Chapter 10. American Costumes

Fashion is the work of the devil. When he made up his mind to enslave mankind he found in fashion his most effective weapon. Fashion enthralls man, it deprives him of his freedom; it is the most autocratic dictator, its mandate being obeyed by all classes, high and low, without exception. Every season it issues new decrees, and no matter how ludicrous they are, everyone submits forthwith. The fashions of this season are changed in the next. Look, for example, at women's hats; some years ago the "merry widow" which was about two or three feet in diameter, was all the rage, and the larger it became the more fashionable it was. Sometimes the wearer could hardly go through a doorway. Then came the hat crowned with birds' feathers, some ladies even placing the complete bird on their hats -- a most ridiculous exhibition of bad taste. The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals should take up the question of the destruction of birds for their plumage, and agitate until the law makes it illegal to wear a bird on a hat. Some may say that if people kill animals and birds for food they might just as well wear a dead bird on their hats, if they wish to be so silly, although the large majority of America's population, I am sorry to find, sincerely believe meat to be a necessary article of diet; yet who will claim that a dead bird on a hat is an indispensable article of wearing apparel? Why do we dress at all? First, I suppose, for protection against cold and heat; secondly, for comfort; thirdly, for decency; and, fourthly, for ornament. Now does the dress of Americans meet these requirements?

First, as regards the weather, does woman's dress protect her from the cold? The fact that a large number of persons daily suffer from colds arouses the suspicion that their dress is at fault. The body is neither equally nor evenly covered, the upper portion being as a rule nearly bare, or very thinly clad, so that the slightest exposure to a draught, or a sudden change of temperature, subjects the wearer to the unpleasant experience of catching cold, unless she is so physically robust and healthy that she can resist all the dangers to which her clothing, or rather her lack of clothing, subjects her. Indeed ladies' dress, instead of affording protection sometimes endangers their lives. The following extract from the "London Times" -- and the facts cannot be doubted -- is a warning to the fair sex. "The strong gale which swept over Bradford resulted in an extraordinary accident by which a girl lost her life. Mary Bailey, aged 16, the daughter of an electrician, who is a pupil at the Hanson Secondary School, was in the school yard when she was suddenly lifted up into the air by a violent gust of wind which got under her clothes converting them into a sort of parachute. After being carried to a height estimated by spectators at 20 feet, she turned over in the air and fell to the ground striking the concreted floor of the yard with great force. She was terribly injured and died half an hour later." Had the poor girl been wearing Chinese clothing this terrible occurrence could not have happened; her life would not have been sacrificed to fashion.

As to the second point, comfort, I do not believe that the wearer of a fashionable costume is either comfortable or contented. I will say nothing of the unnecessary garments which the average woman affects, but let us see what can be said for the tight corset binding the waist. So far from being comfortable it must be most inconvenient, a sort of perpetual penance and it is certainly injurious to the health. I feel confident that physicians will support me in my belief that the death-rate among American women would be less if corset and other tight lacing were abolished. I have known of instances where tight lacing for the ballroom has caused the death of enceinte women. As to the third object, decency, I am not convinced that the American dress fulfils this object. When I say American dress, I include also the clothing worn by Europeans for both are practically the same. It may be a matter of education, but from the Oriental point of view we would prefer that ladies' dresses should be worn more loosely, so that the figure should be less prominent. I am aware that this is a view which my American friends do not share. It is very curious that what is considered as indecent in one country is thought to be quite proper in another. During the hot summers in the Province of Kiangsu the working women avoid the inconveniences and chills of perspiration by going about their work with nothing on the upper part of their bodies, except a chest protector to cover the breasts; in Western countries women would never think of doing this, even during a season of extreme heat; yet they do not object, even in the depth of winter, to uncovering their shoulders as low as possible when attending a dinner-party, a ball, or the theater. I remember the case of a Chinese rice-pounder in Hongkong who was arrested and taken to the Police Court on a charge of indecency. To enable him to do his work better he had dispensed with all his clothing excepting a loin cloth; for this he was sentenced to pay a fine of $2, or, in default of payment to be imprisoned for a week. The English Magistrate, in imposing the fine, lectured him severely, remarking that in a civilized community such primitive manners could not be tolerated, as they were both barbarous and indecent. When he said this did he think of the way the women of his country dress when they go to a ball?



It must be remembered that modesty is wholly a matter of conventionality and custom. Competent observers have testified that savages who have been accustomed to nudity all their lives are covered with shame when made to put on clothing for the first time. They exhibit as much confusion as a civilized person would if compelled to strip naked in public. In the words of a competent authority on this subject: "The facts appear to prove that the feeling of shame, far from being the cause of man's covering his body is, on the contrary, a result of this custom; and that the covering, if not used as a protection from the climate, owes its origin, at least in many cases, to the desire of men and women to make themselves attractive." Strange as it may seem, it is nevertheless true, that a figure partially clad appears more indecent than one that is perfectly nude.

The fourth object of clothes is ornament, but ornaments should be harmless, not only to the wearer, but also to other people; yet from the following paragraph, copied from one of the daily newspapers, it does not appear that they are. "London, May 7. The death of a girl from blood-poisoning caused by a hatpin penetrating her nose was inquired into at Stockport, Cheshire, yesterday. The deceased was Mary Elizabeth Thornton, aged twenty-four, daughter of a Stockport tradesman. The father said that on Saturday evening, April 20, his daughter was speaking to a friend, Mrs. Pickford, outside the shop. On the following Monday she complained of her nose being sore. Next day she again complained and said, "It must be the hatpin." While talking to Mrs. Pickford, she explained, Mrs. Pickford's baby stumbled on the footpath. They both stooped to pic* it up, and a hatpin in Mrs. Pickford's hat caught her in the nostril. His daughter gradually got worse and died on Saturday last. Mrs. Pickford, wife of a paper merchant, said that some minutes after the deceased had pic*ed up the child she said, "Do you know, I scratched my nose on your hatpin?" Mrs. Pickford was wearing the hatpin in court. It projected two inches from the hat and was about twelve inches in length. Dr. Howie Smith said that septic inflammation was set up as a result of the wound, and travelling to the brain caused meningitis. The coroner said that not many cases came before coroners in which death was directly traceable to the hatpin but there must be a very large number of cases in which the hatpin caused injury, in some cases loss of sight. It was no uncommon sight to see these deadly weapons protruding three or four inches from the hat. In Hamburg women were compelled by statute to put shields or protectors on the points of hatpins. In England nothing had been done, but this case showed that it was high time something was done. If women insisted on wearing hatpins they should take precaution of wearing also a shield or protector which would prevent them inflicting injury on other people. The jury returned a verdict of accidental death, and expressed their opinion that long hatpins ought to be done away with or their points protected."

To wear jewels, necklaces of brilliants, precious stones and pearls, or ribbons with brilliants round the hair is a pleasing custom and a pretty sight. But to see a lady wearing a long gown trailing on the ground does not impress me as being elegant, though I understand the ladies in Europe and America think otherwise. It would almost seem as if their conceptions of beauty depended on the length of their skirts. In a ballroom one sometimes finds it very difficult not to tread on the ladies' skirts, and on ceremonial occasions each lady has two page boys to hold up the train of her dress. It is impossible to teach an Oriental to appreciate this sort of thing. Certainly skirts which are not made either for utility or comfort, and which fashion changes, add nothing to the wearer's beauty; especially does this remark apply to the "hobble skirt", with its impediment to free movement of the legs. The ungainly "hobble skirt" compels the wearer to walk carefully and with short steps, and when she dances she has to lift up her dress. Now the latest fashion seems to be the "slashed skirt" which, however, has the advantage of keeping the lower hem of the skirt clean. Doubtless this, in turn, will give place to other novelties. A Chinese lady, Doctor Ya Mei-kin, who has been educated in America, adopted while there the American attire, but as soon as she returned to China she resumed her own native dress. Let us hear what she has to say on this subject. Speaking of Western civilization she said: "If we keep our own mode of life it is not for the sake of blind conservatism. We are more logical in our ways than the average European imagines. I wear for instance this `ao' dress as you see, cut in one piece and allowing the limbs free play -- because it is manifestly a more rational and comfortable attire than your fashionable skirt from Paris. On the other hand we are ready to assimilate such notions from the West as will really prove beneficial to us." Beauty is a matter of education: when you have become accustomed to anything, however quaint or queer, you will not think it so after a while. When I first went abroad and saw young girls going about in the streets with their hair falling loose over their shoulders, I was a little shocked. I thought how careless their parents must be to allow their girls to go out in that untidy state. Later, finding that it was the fashion, I changed my mind, until by degrees I came to think that it looked quite nice; thus do conventionality and custom change one's opinions. But it should be remembered that no custom or conventionality which sanctions the distorting of nature, or which interferes with the free exercise of any member of the body, can ever be called beautiful. It has always been a great wonder to me that American and European ladies who are by no means slow to help forward any movement for reform, have taken no active steps to improve the uncouth and injurious style of their own clothes. How can they expect to be granted the privileges of men until they show their superiority by freeing themselves from the enthrallment of the conventionalities of fashion?

Men's dress is by no means superior to the women's. It is so tight that it causes the wearer to suffer from the heat much more than is necessary, and I am certain that many cases of sunstroke have been chiefly due to tight clothing. I must admire the courage of Dr. Mary Walker, an American lady, who has adopted man's costume, but I wonder that, with her singular independence and ingenuity she has not introduced a better form of dress, instead of slavishly adopting the garb of the men. I speak from experience. When I was a law student in England, in deference to the opinion of my English friends, I discarded Chinese clothes in favor of the European dress, but I soon found it very uncomfortable. In the winter it was not warm enough, but in summer it was too warm because it was so tight. Then I had trouble with the shoes. They gave me the most distressing corns. When, on returning to China, I resumed my own national costume my corns disappeared, and I had no more colds. I do not contend that the Chinese dress is perfect, but I have no hesitation in affirming that it is more comfortable and, according to my views, very much prettier than the American fashions. It is superior to any other kind of dress that I have known. To appreciate the benefits to be derived from comfortable clothing, you have to wear it for a while. Dress should not restrain the free movement of every part of the body, neither should it be so tight as to hinder in any way the free circulation of the blood, or to interfere with the process of evaporation through the skin. I cannot understand why Americans, who are correct and cautious about most things, are so very careless of their own personal comfort in the matter of clothing. Is anything more important than that which concerns their health and comfort? Why should they continue wearing clothes which retard their movements, and which are so inconvenient that they expose the wearers to constant risk and danger? How can they consistently call themselves independent while they servilely follow the mandates of the dressmakers who periodically make money by inventing new fashions necessitating new clothes? Brave Americans, wake up! Assert your freedom!

It would be very bold, and indeed impertinent, on my part to suggest to my American friends that they should adopt the Chinese costume. It has much to recommend it, but I must candidly confess that it might be improved. Why not convene an international congress to decide as to the best form of dress for men and women? Male and female delegates from all over the world might be invited, and samples of all kinds of costumes exhibited. Out of them all let those which are considered the best for men and most suitable for women be recommended, with such improvements as the congress may deem necessary. The advantages of a universal uniformity of costumes would be far-reaching. There would be no further occasion for any one to look askance at another, as has frequently happened when some stranger has been seen wearing what was considered an uncomely or unsuitable garb; universal uniformity of costume would also tend to draw people closer together, and to make them more friendly. Uniforms and badges promote brotherhood. I have enough faith in the American people to believe that my humble suggestion will receive their favorable consideration and that in due time it will be carried into effect.

Chapter 11. American versus Chinese Civilization

This is a big subject. Its exhaustive treatment would require a large volume. In a little chapter such as this I have no intention of doing more than to cast a glance at its cuff buttons and some of the frills on its shirt. Those who want a thesis must look elsewhere. Now what is Civilization? According to Webster it is "the act of civilizing or the state of being civilized; national culture; refinement." "Civilization began with the domestication of animals," says Alfred Russell Wallace, but whether for the animal that was domesticated or for the man domesticating it is not clear. In a way the remark probably applies to both, for the commencement of culture, or the beginning of civilization, was our reclamation from a savage state. Burke says: "Our manners, our civilization, and all the good things connected with manners and civilization have in this European world of ours depended for ages upon two principles -- the spirit of a gentleman, and the spirit of religion." We often hear people, especially Westerners, calling themselves "highly civilized", and to some extent they have good grounds for their claim, but do they really manifest the qualifications mentioned by Burke? Are they indeed so "highly civilized" as to be in all respects worthy paragons to the so-called semi-civilized nations? Have not some of their policies been such as can be characterized only as crooked and selfish actions which less civilized peoples would not have thought of? I believe that every disinterested reader will be able to supply confirmatory illustrations for himself, but I will enforce the point by giving a few Chinese ideals of a truly civilized man:

"He guards his body as if holding jade"; i.e., he will not contaminate himself with mental or moral filth. "He does not gratify his appetite, nor in his dwelling place does he seek ease"; i.e., he uses the physical without being submerged by it. "Without weapons he will not attack a tiger, nor will he dare to cross a river without a boat"; in other words he will never ruin himself and his family by purely speculative practices. He will "send charcoal in a snowstorm, but he will not add flowers to embroidery", meaning that he renders timely assistance when necessary, but does not curry favor by presents to those who do not need them.

Our most honored heroes are said to have made their virtue "brilliant" and one of them engraved on his bath-tub the axiom -- "If you can renovate yourself one day, do so from day to day. Let there be daily renovation." Our ideal for the ruler is that the regulation of the state must commence with his regulation of himself.

It is too often forgotten that civilization, like religion, originally came from the East. Long before Europe and America were civilized, yea while they were still in a state of barbarism, there were nations in the East, including China, superior to them in manners, in education, and in government; possessed of a literature equal to any, and of arts and sciences totally unknown in the West. Self-preservation and self-interest make all men restless, and so Eastern peoples gradually moved to the West taking their knowledge with them; Western people who came into close contact with them learned their civilization. This fusion of East and West was the beginning of Western civilization. A Chinese proverb compares a pupil who excels his teacher to the color green, which originates with blue but is superior to it. This may aptly be applied to Westerners, for they originally learned literature, science, and other arts from the East; but they have proven apt pupils and have excelled their old masters. I wish I could find an apothegm concerning a former master who went back to school and surpassed his clever pupil. The non-existence of such a maxim probably indicates that no such case has as yet occurred, but that by no means proves that it never will. Coming now to particulars I would say that one of the distinguishing features in the American people which I much admire is their earnestness and perseverance. When they decide to take up anything, whether it be an invention or the investigation of a difficult problem, they display indomitable perseverance and patience. Mr. Edison, for example, sleeps, it is said, in his factory and is inaccessible for days when he has a problem to solve, frequently even forgetting food and sleep. I can only compare him to our sage Confucius, who, hearing a charming piece of music which he wanted to study, became so engrossed in it that for many days he forgot to eat, while for three months he did not know the taste of meat.

The dauntless courage of the aviators, not only in America, but in Europe also, is a wonderful thing. "The toll of the air", in the shape of fatal accidents from aviation, mounts into the hundreds, and yet men are undeterred in the pursuit of their investigations. With such intrepidity, perseverance, and genius, it is merely a question of time, and I hope it will not be long, when the art of flying, either by aeroplanes or airships, will be perfectly safe. When that time arrives I mean to make an air trip to America, and I anticipate pleasures from the novel experience such as I do not get from travelling by land or sea.

The remarkable genius for organization observable anywhere in America arouses the visitor's enthusiastic admiration. One visits a mercantile office where a number of men are working at different desks in a large room, and marvels at the quiet and systematic manner in which they perform their tasks; or one goes to a big bank and is amazed at the large number of customers ever going in and coming out. It is difficult to calculate the enormous amount of business transacted every hour, yet all is done with perfect organization and a proper division of labor, so that any information required is furnished by the manager or by a clerk, at a moment's notice. I have often been in these places, and the calm, quiet, earnest way in which the employees performed their tasks was beyond praise. It showed that the heads who organized and were directing the institutions had a firm grasp of multiplex details. We Chinese have a reputation for being good business men. When in business on our own account, or in partnership with a few friends, we succeed marvelously well; but we have yet much to learn regarding large concerns such as corporations or joint stock companies. This is not to be wondered at, for joint stock companies and corporations as conducted in the West were unknown in China before the advent of foreign merchants in our midst. Since then a few joint stock companies have been started in Hongkong, Shanghai, and other ports; these have been carried on by Chinese exclusively, but the managers have not as yet mastered the systematic Western methods of conducting such concerns. Even unpractised and inexpert eyes can see great room for improvement in the management of these businesses. Here, I must admit, the Japanese are ahead of us. Take, for instance, the Yokohama Specie Bank: it has a paid-up capital of Yen 30,000,000 and has branches and agencies not only in all the important towns in Japan, but also in different ports in China, London, New York, San Francisco, Honolulu, Bombay, Calcutta and other places. It is conducted in the latest and most approved scientific fashion; its reports and accounts, published half-yearly, reveal the exact state of the concern's financial position and incidentally show that it makes enormous profits. True, several Chinese banks of a private or official nature have been established, and some of them have been doing a fair business, but candor compels me to say that they are not conducted as scientifically as is the Yokohama Specie Bank, or most American banks. Corporations and joint stock companies are still in their infancy in China; but Chinese merchants and bankers, profiting by the mistakes of the past, will doubtless gradually improve their systems, so that in the future there will be less and less cause to find fault with them.

One system which has been in vogue within the last ten or twenty years in America, and which has lately figured much in the limelight, is that of "Trusts". Here, again, it is only the ingenuity of Americans which could have brought the system to such gigantic proportions as to make it possible for it to wield an immense influence over trade, not only in America but in other countries also. The main object of the Trust seems to be to combine several companies under one direction, so as to economize expenses, regulate production and the price of commodities by destroying competition. Its advocates declare their policy to be productive of good to the world, inasmuch as it secures regular supplies of commodities of the best kind at fair and reasonable prices. On the other hand, its opponents contend that Trusts are injurious to the real interests of the public, as small companies cannot compete with them, and without healthy competition the consumer always suffers. Where experts differ it were perhaps wiser for me not to express an opinion lest I should show no more wisdom than the boy who argued that lobsters were black and not red because he had often seen them swimming about on the seashore, but was confuted by his friend who said he knew they were red and not black for he had seen them on his father's dinner table.

The fact, however, which remains indisputable, is the immense power of wealth. No one boycotts money. It is something no one seems to get enough of. I have never heard that multi-millionaires like Carnegie or Rockefeller ever expressed regrets at not being poor, even though they seem more eager to give money away than to make it. Most people in America are desirous for money, and rush every day to their business with no other thought than to accumulate it quickly. Their love of money leaves them scarcely time to eat, to drink, or to sleep; waking or sleeping they think of nothing else. Wealth is their goal and when they reach it they will probably be still unsatisfied. The Chinese are, of course, not averse to wealth. They can enjoy the jingling coin as much as anyone, but money is not their only thought. They carry on their business calmly and quietly, and they are very patient. I trust they will always retain these habits and never feel any temptation to imitate the Americans in their mad chase after money.

There is, however, one American characteristic my countrymen might learn with profit, and that is the recognition of the fact that punctuality is the soul of business. Americans know this; it is one cause of their success. Make an appointment with an American and you will find him in his office at the appointed time. Everything to be done by him during the course of the day has its fixed hour, and hence he is able to accomplish a greater amount of work in a given time than many others. Chinese, unfortunately, have no adequate conceptions of the value of time. This is due, perhaps, to our mode of reckoning. In the West a day is divided into twenty-four hours, and each hour into sixty minutes, but in China it has been for centuries the custom to divide day and night into twelve (shih) "periods" of two hours each, so that an appointment is not made for a particular minute, as in America, but for one or other of these two-hour periods. This has created ingrained habits of unpunctuality which clocks and watches and contact with foreigners are slow to remove. The time-keeping railway is, however, working a revolution, especially in places where there is only one train a day, and a man who misses that has to wait for the morrow before he can resume his journey.

Some years ago a luncheon -- "tiffin" we call it in China -- was given in my honor at a Peking restaurant by a couple of friends; the hour was fixed at noon sharp. I arrived on the stroke of twelve, but found that not only were none of the guests there, but that even the hosts themselves were absent. As I had several engagements I did not wait, but I ordered a few dishes and ate what I required. None of the hosts had made their appearance by the time I had finished, so I left with a request to the waiter that he would convey my thanks.

Knowing the unpunctuality of our people, the conveners of a public meeting will often tell the Chinese that it will begin an hour or two before the set time, whereas foreigners are notified of the exact hour. Not being aware of this device I once attended a conference at the appointed time, only to find that I had to wait for over an hour. I protested that in future I should be treated as a foreigner in this regard. As civilized people have always found it necessary to wear clothes I ought not to omit a reference to them here, but in view of what has already been said in the previous chapter I shall at this juncture content myself with quoting Mrs. M. S. G. Nichols, an English lady who has written on this subject. She characterizes the clothing of men as unbeautiful, but she principally devotes her attention to the dress of women. I quote the following from her book:* "The relation of a woman's dress to her health is seldom considered, still less is it contemplated as to its effect upon the health of her children; yet everyone must see that all that concerns the mothers of our race is important. The clothing of woman should be regarded in every aspect if we wish to see its effect upon her health, and consequently upon the health of her offspring. The usual way is to consider the beauty or fashion of dress first, its comfort and healthfulness afterward, if at all. We must reverse this method. First, use, then beauty, flowing from, or in harmony with, use. That is the true law of life" (p. 14). On page 23 she continues: "A great deal more clothing is worn by women in some of fashion's phases than is needed for warmth, and mostly in the form of heavy skirts dragging down upon the hips. The heavy trailing skirts also are burdens upon the spine. Such evils of women's clothes, especially in view of maternity, can hardly be over-estimated. The pains and perils that attend birth are heightened, if not caused, by improper clothing. The nerves of the spine and the maternal system of nerves become diseased together." And on page 32 she writes: "When I first went to an evening party in a fashionable town, I was shocked at seeing ladies with low dresses, and I cannot even now like to see a man, justly called a rake, looking at the half-exposed bosom of a lady. There is no doubt that too much clothing is an evil, as well as too little; but clothing that swelters or leaves us with a cold are both lesser evils than the exposure of esoteric charms to stir the already heated blood of the `roue'. What we have to do, as far as fashion and the public opinion it forms will allow, is to suit our clothing to our climate, and to be truly modest and healthful in our attire." Mrs. Nichols, speaking from her own experience, has naturally devoted her book largely to a condemnation of woman's dress, but man's dress as worn in the West is just as bad. The dreadful high collar and tight clothes which are donned all the year round, irrespective of the weather, must be very uncomfortable. Men wear nearly the same kind of clothing at all seasons of the year. That might be tolerated in the frigid or temperate zones, but should not the style be changed in the tropical heat of summer common to the Eastern countries? I did not notice that men made much difference in their dress in summer; I have seen them, when the thermometer was ranging between 80 and 90, wearing a singlet shirt, waistcoat and coat. The coat may not have been as thick as that worn in winter, still it was made of serge, wool or some similarly unsuitable stuff. However hot the weather might be it was seldom that anyone was to be seen on the street without a coat. No wonder we frequently hear of deaths from sunstroke or heat, a fatality almost unknown among the Chinese.**

  
 * "The Clothes Question Considered in its Relation to Beauty, Comfort and Health", by Mrs. M. S. G. Nichols. Published in London, 32 Fopstone Road, Earl's Court, S.W.
** There have been a few cases of Chinese workmen who through carelessness have exposed themselves by working in the sun; but such cases are rare.



Chinese dress changes with the seasons, varying from the thickest fur to the lightest gauze. In winter we wear fur or garments lined with cotton wadding; in spring we don a lighter fur or some other thinner garment; in summer we use silk, gauze or grass cloth, according to the weather. Our fashions are set by the weather; not by the arbitrary decrees of dressmakers and tailors from Peking or elsewhere. The number of deaths in America and in Europe every year, resulting from following the fashion must, I fear, be considerable, although of course no doctor would dare in his death certificate to assign unsuitable clothing as the cause of the decease of a patient.

Even in the matter of dressing, and in this twentieth century, "might is right". In the opinion of an impartial observer the dress of man is queer, and that of woman, uncouth; but as all nations in Europe and America are wearing the same kind of dress, mighty Conventionality is extending its influence, so that even some natives of the East have discarded their national dress in favor of the uglier Western attire. If the newly adopted dress were, if no better than, at least equal to, the old one in beauty and comfort, it might be sanctioned for the sake of uniformity, as suggested in the previous chapter; but when it is otherwise why should we imitate? Why should the world assume a depressing monotony of costume? Why should we allow nature's diversities to disappear? Formerly a Chinese student when returning from Europe or America at once resumed his national dress, for if he dared to continue to favor the Western garb he was looked upon as a "half-foreign devil". Since the establishment of the Chinese Republic in 1911, this sentiment has entirely changed, and the inelegant foreign dress is no longer considered fantastic; on the contrary it has become a fashion, not only in cities where foreigners are numerous, but even in interior towns and villages where they are seldom seen.

Chinese ladies, like their Japanese sisters, have not yet, to their credit be it said, become obsessed by this new fashion, which shows that they have more common sense than some men. I have, however, seen a few young and foolish girls imitating the foreign dress of Western women. Indeed this craze for Western fashion has even caught hold of our legislators in Peking, who, having fallen under the spell of clothes, in solemn conclave decided that the frock coat, with the tall-top hat, should in future be the official uniform; and the swallow-tail coat with a white shirt front the evening dress in China. I need hardly say that this action of the Peking Parliament aroused universal surprise and indignation. How could the scholars and gentry of the interior, where foreign tailors are unknown, be expected to dress in frock coats at formal ceremonies, or to attend public entertainments in swallow-tails? Public meetings were held to discuss the subject, and the new style of dress was condemned as unsuitable. At the same time it was thought by many that the present dresses of men and women leave much room for improvement. It should be mentioned that as soon as it was known that the dress uniform was under discussion in Parliament, the silk, hat and other trades guilds, imitating the habits of the wide-world which always everywhere considers self first, fearing that the contemplated change in dress might injuriously affect their respective interests, sent delegates to Peking to "lobby" the members to "go slow" and not to introduce too radical changes. The result was that in addition to the two forms of dress above mentioned, two more patterns were authorized, one for man's ordinary wear and the other for women, both following Chinese styles, but all to be made of home-manufactured material. This was to soothe the ruffled feelings of the manufacturers and traders, for in purchasing a foreign suit some of the materials at least, if not all, must be of foreign origin or foreign make.

During a recent visit to Peking I protested against this novel fashion, and submitted a memorandum to President Yuan with a request that it should be transmitted to Parliament. My suggestion is that the frock-coat and evening-dress regulation should be optional, and that the Chinese dress uniform as sketched by me in my memorandum should be adopted as an alternative. I am in hopes that my suggestion will be favorably considered. The point I have taken is that Chinese diplomats and others who go abroad should, in order to avoid curiosity, and for the sake of uniformity, adopt Western dress, and that those who are at home, if they prefer the ugly change, should be at liberty to adopt it, but that it should not be compulsory on others who object to suffering from cold in winter, or to being liable to sunstroke in summer. I have taken this middle course in order to satisfy both sides; for it would be difficult to induce Parliament to abolish or alter what has been so recently fixed by them. The Chinese dress, as is well known all over the world, is superior to that worn by civilized people in the West, and the recent change favored by the Chinese is deplored by most foreigners in China. The following paragraph, written by a foreign merchant and published in one of the Shanghai papers, expresses the opinion of almost all intelligent foreigners on this subject:



"Some time back the world was jubilant over the news that among the great reforms adopted in China was the discarding of the Chinese tunic, that great typical national costume. `They are indeed getting civilized,' said the gossip; and one and all admired the energy displayed by the resolute Young China in coming into line with the CIVILIZED world, adopting even our uncomfortable, anti-hygienic and anti-esthetic costume.

"Foreign `fashioned' tailor shops, hat stores, shoemakers, etc., sprang up all over the country. When I passed through Canton in September last, I could not help noticing also that those typical streets lined with boat-shaped, high-soled shoes, had been replaced by foreign-style boot and shoemakers. "Undoubtedly the reform was gaining ground and the Chinese would have to be in the future depicted dressed up as a Caucasian. "In my simplicity I sincerely confess I could not but deplore the passing away of the century-old tunic, so esthetic, so comfortable, so rich, so typical of the race. In my heart I was sorry for the change, as to my conception it was not in the dress where the Chinese had to seek reform. . . ."

I agree with this writer that it is not in the domain of dress that we Chinese should learn from the Western peoples. There are many things in China which could be very well improved but certainly not dress.

Chapter 12. American versus Chinese Civilization (Continued)

The question has often been asked "Which are the civilized nations?" And the answer has been, "All Europe and America." To the query, "What about the nations in the East?" the answer has been made that with the exception of Japan, who has now become a great civilized power, the other nations are more or less civilized. When the matter is further pressed and it is asked, "What about China?" the general reply is, "She is semi-civilized," or in other words, not so civilized as the nations in the West.

Before pronouncing such an opinion justifiable, let us consider the plain facts. I take it that civilization inculcates culture, refinement, humane conduct, fair dealing and just treatment. Amiel says, "Civilization is first and foremost a moral thing." There is no doubt that the human race, especially in the West, has improved wonderfully within the last century. Many inventions and discoveries have been made, and men are now able to enjoy comforts which could not have been obtained before.

From a material point of view we have certainly progressed, but do the "civilized" people in the West live longer than the so-called semi-civilized races? Have they succeeded in prolonging their lives? Are they happier than others? I should like to hear their answers. Is it not a fact that Americans are more liable to catch cold than Asiatics; with the least change of air, and with the slightest appearance of an epidemic are they not more easily infected than Asiatics? If so, why? With their genius for invention why have they not discovered means to safeguard themselves so that they can live longer on this earth? Again, can Americans say that they are happier than the Chinese? From personal observation I have formed the opinion that the Chinese are more contented than Americans, and on the whole happier; and certainly one meets more old people in China than in America. Since the United States of America is rich, well governed, and provided with more material comforts than China, Americans, one would think, should be happier than we are, but are they? Are there not many in their midst who are friendless and penurious? In China no man is without friends, or if he is, it is his own fault. "Virtue is never friendless," said Confucius, and, as society is constituted in China, this is literally true. If this is not so in America I fear there is something wrong with that boasted civilization, and that their material triumphs over the physical forces of nature have been paid dearly for by a loss of insight into her profound spiritualities. Perhaps some will understand when I quote Lao Tsze's address to Confucius on "Simplicity". "The chaff from winnowing will blind a man. Mosquitoes will bite a man and keep him awake all night, and so it is with all the talk of yours about charity and duty to one's neighbor, it drives one crazy. Sir, strive to keep the world in its original simplicity -- why so much fuss? The wind blows as it listeth, so let virtue establish itself. The swan is white without a daily bath, and the raven is black without dyeing itself. When the pond is dry and the fishes are gasping for breath it is of no use to moisten them with a little water or a little sprinkling. Compared to their original and simple condition in the pond and the rivers it is nothing."

Henry Ward Beecher says, "Wealth may not produce civilization, but civilization produces money," and in my opinion while wealth may be used to promote happiness and health it as often injures both. Happiness is the product of liberality, intelligence and service to others, and the reflex of happiness is health. My contention is that the people who possess these good qualities in the greatest degree are the most civilized. Now civilization, as mentioned in the previous chapter, was born in the East and travelled westward. The law of nature is spiral, and inasmuch as Eastern civilization taught the people of the West, so Western civilization, which is based upon principles native to the East, will return to its original source. No nation can now remain shut up within itself without intercourse with other nations; the East and the West can no longer exist separate and apart. The new facilities for transportation and travel by land and water bring all nations, European, American, Asiatic and African, next door to each other, and when the art of aviation is more advanced and people travel in the air as safely as they now cross oceans, the relationships of nations will become still closer.

What effect will this have on mankind? The first effect will be, I should say, greater stability. As interests become common, destructive combats will vanish. All alike will be interested in peace. It is a gratifying sign that within recent years the people of America have taken a prominent part in peace movements, and have inaugurated peace congresses, the members of which represent different sections of the country. Annual gatherings of this order must do much to prevent war and to perpetuate peace, by turning people's thoughts in the right direction. Take, for instance, the Lake Mohonk Conference on International Arbitration, which was started by a private gentleman, Mr. A. K. Smiley, who was wont every year to invite prominent officials and others to his beautiful summer place at Lake Mohonk for a conference. He has passed away, to the regret of his many friends, but the good movement still continues, and the nineteenth annual conference was held under the auspices of his brother, Mr. Daniel Smiley. Among those present, there were not only eminent Americans, such as Dr. C. W. Eliot, President Emeritus of Harvard University, Ex-American Ambassador C. Tower, Dr. J. Taylor, President of Vassar College, and Dr. Lyman Abbott, but distinguished foreigners such as J. A. Baker, M.P., of England, Herr Heinrich York Steiner, of Vienna, and many others. Among the large number of people who support this kind of movement, and the number is increasing every day, the name of Mr. Andrew Carnegie stands out very prominently. This benevolent gentleman is a most vigorous advocate of International Peace, and has spent most of his time and money for that purpose. He has given ten million dollars (gold) for the purpose of establishing the Carnegie Peace Fund; the first paragraph in his long letter to the trustees is worthy of reproduction, as it expresses his strong convictions:

"I have transferred to you," he says, "as Trustees of the Carnegie Peace Fund, ten million dollars of five per cent. mortgage bonds, the revenue of which is to be administered by you to hasten the abolition of international war, the foulest blot upon our civilization. Although we no longer eat our fellowmen nor torture our prisoners, nor sack cities, killing their inhabitants, we still kill each other in war like barbarians. Only wild beasts are excusable for doing that in this the Twentieth Century of the Christian era, for the crime of war is inherent, since it decides not in favor of the right, but always of the strong. The nation is criminal which refuses arbitration and drives its adversary to a tribunal which knows nothing of righteous judgment."

I am glad to say that I am familiar with many American magazines and journals which are regularly published to advocate peace, and I have no doubt that in every country similar movements are stirring, for the nations are beginning to realize the disastrous effects of war. If I am not mistaken, however, Americans are the most active in this matter. The Permanent Court of Arbitration at The Hague, whose members belong to nearly every nation, is a significant index of the spirit of the times. Yet what an irony of fate that while people are so active in perpetuating peace they cannot preserve it. Look at the recent wars in Europe, first between Italy and Turkey, and afterward in the Balkans, to say nothing of disturbances in China and other parts of the world. It is just like warning a child not to take poison and then allowing him to swallow it and die. Sensible men should consider this question calmly and seriously. We all agree as to the wickedness of war and yet we war with one another; we do not like war yet we cannot help war. There is surely some hidden defect in the way we have been brought up. Is not the slogan of nationality, to a great extent, the root of the evil? Every schoolboy and schoolgirl is taught the duty of devotion, or strong attachment, to his or her own country, and every statesman or public man preaches the doctrine of loyalty to one's native land; while the man who dares to render service to another country, the interests of which are opposed to the interests of his own land, is denounced a traitor. In such cases the individual is never allowed an opinion as to the right or wrong of the dispute. He is expected to support his own country and to cry at all times, "Our country, right or wrong." A politician's best chance to secure votes is to gloss over the faults of his own party or nation, to dilate on the wickedness of his neighbors and to exhort his compatriots to be loyal to their national flag. Can it be wondered at that men who are imbued with such doctrines become selfish and narrow-minded and are easily involved in quarrels with other nations?

Patriotism is, of course, the national life. Twenty-four centuries ago, speaking in the Greek Colony of Naxos, Pythagoras described this emotion in the following eloquent passage: "Listen, my children, to what the State should be to the good citizen. It is more than father or mother, it is more than husband or wife, it is more than child or friend. The State is the father and mother of all, is the wife of the husband and the husband of the wife. The family is good, and good is the joy of the man in wife and in son. But greater is the State, which is the protector of all, without which the home would be ravaged and destroyed. Dear to the good man is the honor of the woman who bore him, dear the honor of the wife whose children cling to his knees; but dearer should be the honor of the State that keeps safe the wife and the child. It is the State from which comes all that makes your life prosperous, and gives you beauty and safety. Within the State are built up the arts, which make the difference between the barbarian and the man. If the brave man dies gladly for the hearthstone, far more gladly should he die for the State."

But only when the State seeks the good of the governed, for said Pythagoras on another occasion: "Organized society exists for the happiness and welfare of its members; and where it fails to secure these it stands ipso facto condemned."

But to-day should the State be at war with another, and any citizen or section of citizens believe their own country wrong and the opposing nation wronged, they dare not say so, or if they do they run great risk of being punished for treason. Men and women though no longer bought and sold in the market place are subjected to subtler forms of serfdom. In most European countries they are obliged to fight whether they will or not, and irrespective of their private convictions about the dispute; even though, as is the case in some European countries, they may be citizens from compulsion rather than choice, they are not free to abstain from active participation in the quarrel. Chinese rebellions are said to "live on loot", i.e., on the forcible confiscation of private property, but is that worse than winning battles on the forcible deprivation of personal liberty? This is nationalism gone mad! It fosters the desire for territory grabbing and illustrates a fundamental difference between the Orient and the Occident. With us government is based on the consent of the governed in a way that the Westerner can hardly understand, for his passion to expand is chronic. Small nations which are over-populated want territory for their surplus population; great nations desire territory to extend their trade, and when there are several great powers to divide the spoil they distribute it among themselves and call it "spheres of influence", and all in honor of the god Commerce. In China the fundamentals of our social system are brotherhood and the dignity of labor.

What, I ask, is the advantage of adding to national territory? Let us examine the question calmly. If a town or a province is seized the conqueror has to keep a large army to maintain peace and order, and unless the people are well disposed to the new authority there will be constant trouble and friction. All this, I may say, in passing, is opposed to our Confucian code which bases everything on reason and abhors violence. We would rather argue with a mob and find out, if possible, its point of view, than fire on it. We have yet to be convinced that good results flow from the use of the sword and the cannon. Western nations know no other compulsion. If, however, the acquisition of new territory arises from a desire to develop the country and to introduce the most modern and improved systems of government, without ulterior intentions, then it is beyond praise, but I fear that such disinterested actions are rare. The nearest approach to such high principle is the purchase of the Philippine Islands by the United States. I call it "purchase" because the United States Government paid a good price for the Islands after having seized the territory. The intentions of the Government were well known at the time. Since her acquisition of those Islands, America has been doing her best to develop their resources and expand their trade. Administrative and judicial reforms have been introduced, liberal education has been given to the natives, who are being trained for self-government. It has been repeatedly and authoritatively declared by the United States that as soon as they are competent to govern themselves without danger of disturbances, and are able to establish a stable government, America will grant independence to those islands. I believe that when the proper time comes she will fulfill her word, and thus set a noble example to the world.

The British in Hongkong afford an illustration of a different order, proving the truth of my contention that, excepting as a sphere for the exercise of altruism, the acquisition of new territories is an illusive gain. When Hongkong was ceded to Great Britain at the conclusion of a war in which China was defeated, it was a bare island containing only a few fishermen's huts. In order to make it a trading port and encourage people to live there, the British Government spent large sums of money year after year for its improvement and development, and through the wise administration of the local Government every facility was afforded for free trade. It is now a prosperous British colony with a population of nearly half a million. But what have been the advantages to Great Britain? Financially she has been a great loser, for the Island which she received at the close of her war with China was for many years a great drain on her national treasury. Now Hongkong is a self-supporting colony, but what benefits do the British enjoy there that do not belong to everyone else? The colony is open to all foreigners, and every right which a British merchant has is equally shared with everyone else. According to the census of 1911, out of a population of 456,739 only 12,075 were non-Chinese, of whom a small portion were British; the rest were Chinese. Thus the prosperity of that colony depends upon the Chinese who, it is needless to say, are in possession of all the privileges that are enjoyed by British residents. It should be noticed that the number of foreign firms and stores (i.e., non-British) have been and are increasing, while big British hongs are less numerous than before. Financially, the British people have certainly not been gainers by the acquisition of that colony. Of course I shall be told that it adds to the prestige of Great Britain, but this is an empty, bumptious boast dearly paid for by the British tax-payer.

From an economic and moral point of view, however, I must admit that a great deal of good has been done by the British Government in Hongkong. It has provided the Chinese with an actual working model of a Western system of government which, notwithstanding many difficulties, has succeeded in transforming a barren island into a prosperous town, which is now the largest shipping port in China. The impartial administration of law and the humane treatment of criminals cannot but excite admiration and gain the confidence of the natives. If the British Government, in acquiring the desert island, had for its purpose the instruction of the natives in a modern system of government, she is to be sincerely congratulated, but it is feared that her motives were less altruistic. These remarks apply equally, if not with greater force, to the other colonies or possessions in China under the control of European Powers, as well as to the other colonies of the British Empire, such as Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and others which are called "self-governing dominions". The Imperial Government feels very tender toward these colonists, and practically they are allowed to manage their affairs as they like. Since they are so generously treated and enjoy the protection of so great a power, there is no fear that these self-governing dominions will ever become independent of their mother country; but if they ever should do so, it is most improbable that she would declare war against them, as the British people have grown wiser since their experience with the American colonists. British statesmen have been awakened to the necessity of winning the good-will of their colonists, and within recent years have adopted the policy of inviting the Colonial premiers to London to discuss questions affecting Imperial and Colonial interests. Imperial federation seems to be growing popular with the British and it is probable that in the future England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland will each have its own parliament, with an Imperial Parliament, sitting at Westminster, containing representatives from all parts of the British Empire, but America is the only nation which has added to her responsibilities with the avowed purpose of making semi-civilized tribes independent, self-governing colonies, and America is almost the only great power that has never occupied or held territory in China.

Let me ask again what is the object of nations seeking new possessions? Is it for the purpose of trade? If so, the object can be obtained without acquiring territory. In these days of enlightenment anyone can go to any country and trade without restriction, and in the British colonies the alien is in the same position as the native. He is not hampered by "permits" or other "red-tape" methods. Is it for the purpose of emigration? In Europe, America and all the British colonies, so far as I know, white people, unless they are paupers or undesirables, can emigrate to any country and after a short period become naturalized.

Some statesmen would say that it is necessary for a great power to have naval bases or coaling stations in several parts of the world. This presupposes preparations for war; but if international peace were maintained, such possessions would be useless and the money spent on them wasted. In any case it is unproductive expenditure. It is the fashion for politicians (and I am sorry to find them supported by eminent statesmen) to preach the doctrine of armaments; they allege that in order to preserve peace it is necessary to be prepared for war, that a nation with a large army or navy commands respect, and that her word carries weight. This argument cuts both ways, for a nation occupying such a commanding position may be unreasonable and a terror to weaker nations. If this high-toned doctrine continues where will it end? We shall soon see every nation arming to the teeth for the sake of her national honor and safety, and draining her treasury for the purpose of building dreadnaughts and providing armaments. When such a state of things exists can international peace be perpetuated? Will not occasion be found to test those war implements and to utilize the naval and military men? When you purchase a knife don't you expect to use it? Mr. Lloyd George, the English Chancellor of the Exchequer, in a speech in which he lamented the ever-increasing but unnecessary expenditure on armaments, said in Parliament: "I feel confident that it will end in a great disaster -- I won't say to this country, though it is just possible that it may end in a disaster here." A man with a revolver sometimes invites attack, lest what was at first intended only for a defense should become a menace.

When discussing the craze of the Western nations for adding to their territories I said that white people can emigrate to any foreign country that they please, but it is not so with the yellow race. It has been asserted with authority that some countries are reserved exclusively for the white races, and with this object in view laws have been enacted prohibiting the natives of Asia from becoming naturalized citizens, besides imposing very strict and almost prohibitory regulations regarding their admission. Those who support such a policy hold that they, the white people, are superior to the yellow people in intellect, in education, in taste, and in habits, and that the yellow people are unworthy to associate with them. Yet in China we have manners, we have arts, we have morals, and we have managed a fairly large society for thousands of years without the bitter class hatreds, class divisions, and class struggles that have marred the fair progress of the West. We have not enslaved our lives to wealth. We like luxury but we like other things better. We love life more than chasing imitations of life. Our differences of color, like our differences of speech, are accidental, they are due to climatic and other influences. We came originally from one stock. We all started evenly, Heaven has no favorites. Man alone has made differences between man and man, and the yellow man is no whit inferior to the white people in intelligence. During the Russo-Japan War was it not the yellow race that displayed the superior intelligence? I am sometimes almost tempted to say that Asia will have to civilize the West over again. I am not bitter or sarcastic, but I do contend that there are yet many things that the white races have to learn from their colored brethren. In India, in China, and in Japan there are institutions which have a stability unknown outside Asia. Religion has apparently little influence on Western civilization; it is the corner-stone of society in all Asiatic civilizations. The result is that the colored races place morality in the place assigned by their more practical white confreres to economic propositions. We think, as we contemplate the West, that white people do not understand comfort because they have no leisure to enjoy contentment; THEY measure life by accumulation, WE by morality. Family ties are stronger with the so-called colored races than they are among the more irresponsible white races; consequently the social sense is keener among the former and much individual suffering is avoided. We have our vices, but these are not peculiar to US; and, at least, we have the merit of being easily governed. Wherever there are Chinese colonies the general verdict is: "The Chinese make good citizens."

This is what the late Sir Robert Hart, to whom China owes her Customs organization, said about us: "They (the Chinese) are well-behaved, law-abiding, intelligent, economical, and industrious; they can learn anything and do anything; they are punctiliously polite, they worship talent, and they believe in right so firmly that they scorn to think it requires to be supported or enforced by might; they delight in literature, and everywhere they have their literary clubs and coteries for learning and discussing each other's essays and verses; they possess and practise an admirable system of ethics, and they are generous, charitable, and fond of good work; they never forget a favor, they make rich return for any kindness, and though they know money will buy service, a man must be more than wealthy to win esteem and respect; they are practical, teachable, and wonderfully gifted with common sense; they are excellent artisans, reliable workmen, and of a good faith that everyone acknowledges and admires in their commercial dealings; in no country that is or was, has the commandment `Honor thy father and thy mother', been so religiously obeyed, or so fully and without exception given effect to, and it is in fact the keynote of their family, social, official and national life, and because it is so their days are long in the land God has given them."

The cry of "America for the Americans" or "Australia for the Australians" is most illogical, for those people were not the original owners of the soil; with far greater reason we in the far East might shout, "China for the Chinese", "Japan for the Japanese". I will quote Mr. T. S. Sutton, English Secretary of the Chinese-American League of Justice, on this point. "The most asinine whine in the world," he says, "is that of `America for the Americans' or `China for the Chinese', etc. It is the hissing slogan of greed, fear, envy, selfishness, ignorance and prejudice. No man, no human being who calls himself a man, no Christian, no sane or reasonable person, should or could ever be guilty of uttering that despicable wail. God made the world for all men, and if God has any preference, if God is any respecter of persons, He must surely favor the Chinese, for He has made more of them than of any other people on the globe. `America for the aboriginal Indians' was once the cry. Then when the English came over it changed to `America for the English', later `America for the Puritans', and around New Orleans they cried `America for the French'. In Pennsylvania the slogan was `America for the Dutch', etc., but the truth remains that God has set aside America as `the melting pot' of the world, the land to which all people may come, and from which there has arisen, and will continue to rise, a great mixed race, a cosmopolitan nation that may, if it is not misled by prejudice and ignorance, yet lead the world." Although Mr. Sutton's phraseology is somewhat strong, his arguments are sound and unanswerable.

I now pass to some less controversial aspects of my theme, and note a praiseworthy custom that is practically unknown in the Far East. I refer to the habit of international marriages which are not only common in cosmopolitan America but are of daily occurrence in Europe also, among ordinary people as well as the royal families of Europe, so that nearly all the European courts are related one to the other. This is a good omen for a permanent world-peace. There have been some marriages of Asiatics with Europeans and Americans, and they should be encouraged. Everything that brings the East and West together and helps each to understand the other better, is good. The offspring from such mixed unions inherit the good points of both sides. The head master of the Queen's College in Hongkong, where there are hundreds of boys of different nationalities studying together, once told me that formerly at the yearly examination the prizes were nearly all won by the Chinese students, but that in later years when Eurasian boys were admitted, they beat the Chinese and all the others, and generally came out the best. Not only in school but in business also they have turned out well. It is well known that the richest man in Hongkong is a Eurasian. It is said that the father of Aguinaldo, the well-known Philippine leader, was a Chinese. There is no doubt that mixed marriages of the white with the yellow races will be productive of good to both sides. But do Chinese really make good husbands? my lady friends ask. I will cite the case of an American lady. Some years ago a Chinese called on me at my Legation in Washington accompanied by an American lady and a girl. The lady was introduced to me as his wife and the girl as his daughter; I naturally supposed that the lady was the girl's mother, but she told me that the girl was the daughter of her late intimate friend, and that after her death, knowing that the child's father had been a good and affectionate husband to her friend, she had gladly become his second wife, and adopted his daughter.

Those who believe in reincarnation (and I hope most of my readers do, as it is a clue to many mysteries) understand that when people are reincarnated they are not always born in the same country or continent as that in which they lived in their previous life. I have an impression that in one of my former existences I was born and brought up in the United States. In saying this I do not express the slightest regrets at having now been born in Asia. I only wish to give a hint to those white people who advocate an exclusive policy that in their next life they may be born in Asia or Africa, and that the injury they are now inflicting on the yellow people they may themselves have to suffer in another life. While admitting that we Chinese have our faults and that in some matters we have much to learn, especially from the Americans, we at least possess one moral quality, magnanimity, while the primal virtues of industry, economy, obedience, and love of peace, combined with a "moderation in all things", are also common among us. Our people have frequently been slighted or ill-treated but we entertain no revengeful spirit, and are willing to forget. We believe that in the end right will conquer might. Innumerable as have been the disputes between Chinese and foreigners it can at least be said, without going into details, that we have not, in the first instance, been the aggressors. Let me supply a local illustration showing how our faults are always exaggerated. Western people are fond of horse-racing. In Shanghai they have secured from the Chinese a large piece of ground where they hold race meetings twice a year, but no Chinese are allowed on the grand-stand during the race days. They are provided with a separate entrance, and a separate enclosure, as though they were the victims of some infectious disease. I have been told that a few years ago a Chinese gentleman took some Chinese ladies into the grand-stand and that they misbehaved; hence this discriminatory treatment of Chinese. It is proper that steps should be taken to preserve order and decency in public places, but is it fair to interdict the people of a nation on account of the misconduct of two or three? Suppose it had been Germans who had misbehaved themselves (which is not likely), would the race club have dared to exclude Germans from sharing with other nations the pleasures of the races?

In contrast with this, let us see what the Chinese have done. Having learned the game of horse-racing from the foreigners in China, and not being allowed to participate, they have formed their own race club, and, with intention, have called it the "International Recreation Club". This Club has purchased a large tract of land at Kiangwan, about five miles from Shanghai, and has turned it into a race-course, considerably larger than that in Shanghai. When a race meeting is held there, IT IS OPEN TO FOREIGNERS AS WELL AS CHINESE, in fact complimentary tickets have even been sent to the members of the foreign race club inviting their attendance. Half of the members of the race committee are foreigners; while foreigners and Chinese act jointly as stewards and judges; the ponies that run are owned by foreigners as well as by Chinese, and Chinese jockeys compete with foreign jockeys in all the events. A most pleasing feature of these races is the very manifest cordial good feeling which prevails throughout the races there. The Chinese have been dubbed "semi-civilized and heathenish", but the "International Recreation Club" and the Kiangwan race-course display an absence of any desire to retaliate and sentiments of international friendship such as it would, perhaps, be difficult to parallel. Should such people be denied admission into Australia, Canada, or the United States? Would not the exclusionists in those countries profit by association with them?

The immigration laws in force in Australia are, I am informed, even more strict and more severe than those in the United States. They amount to almost total prohibition; for they are directed not only against Chinese laborers but are so operated that the Chinese merchant and student are also practically refused admission. In the course of a lecture delivered in England by Mrs. Annie Besant in 1912 on "The citizenship of colored races in the British Empire", while condemning the race prejudices of her own people, she brought out a fact which will be interesting to my readers, especially to the Australians. She says, "In Australia a very curious change is taking place. Color has very much deepened in that clime, and the Australian has become very yellow; so that it becomes a problem whether, after a time, the people would be allowed to live in their own country. The white people are far more colored than are some Indians." In the face of this plain fact is it not time, for their own sake, that the Australians should drop their cry against yellow people and induce their Parliament to abolish, or at least to modify, their immigration laws with regard to the yellow race? Australians are anxious to extend their trade, and they have sent commercial commissioners to Japan and other Eastern countries with the view to developing and expanding commerce. Mr. J. B. Suttor, Special Commissioner of New South Wales, has published the following advertisement:

"NEW SOUTH WALES. The Land of Reward for Capital Commerce and Industry. Specially subsidized steamers now giving direct service between Sydney, THE PREMIER COMMERCIAL CENTER OF AUSTRALIA, AND SHANGHAI. Thus offering special facilities for Commerce and Tourists. NEW SOUTH WALES PRODUCTS ARE STANDARDS OF EXCELLENCE."

Commerce and friendship go together, but how Australians can expect to develop trade in a country whose people are not allowed to come to visit her shores even for the purposes of trade, passes my comprehension. Perhaps, having heard so much of the forgiving and magnanimous spirit of the Chinese, Australians expect the Chinese to greet them with smiles and to trade with them, while being kicked in return. I believe in the doctrine of the universal brotherhood of men. It is contrary to the law (God) of creation that some people should shut out other people from portions of the earth solely from motives of selfishness and jealousy; the injury caused by such selfish acts will sooner or later react on the doers. "Every man is his own ancestor. We are preparing for the days that come, and we are what we are to-day on account of what has gone before." The dog-in-the-manger policy develops doggish instincts in those who practise it; and, after all, civilization without kindness and justice is not worth having. In conclusion, I will let the English poet, William Wordsworth, state "Nature's case".

Listen to these noble lines from the ninth canto of his "Excursion". "Alas! what differs more than man from man, And whence that difference? Whence but from himself? For see the universal Race endowed With the same upright form. The sun is fixed And the infinite magnificence of heaven Fixed, within reach of every human eye; The sleepless ocean murmurs for all years; The vernal field infuses fresh delight Into all hearts. Throughout the world of sense, Even as an object is sublime or fair, That object is laid open to the view Without reserve or veil; and as a power Is salutary, or an influence sweet, Are each and all enabled to perceive That power, that influence, by impartial law, Gifts nobler are vouchsafed alike to all; Reason, and, with that reason, smiles and tears; Imagination, freedom in the will; Conscience to guide and check; and death to be Foretasted, immortality conceived By all -- a blissful immortality, To them whose holiness on earth shall make The Spirit capable of heaven, assured. ..............................The smoke ascends To Heaven as lightly from the cottage hearth As from the haughtiest palace. He whose soul Ponders this true equality, may walk The fields of earth with gratitude and hope; Yet, in that meditation, will he find Motive to sadder grief, as we have found; Lamenting ancient virtues overthrown, And for the injustice grieving, that hath made So wide a difference between man and man."

Chapter 13. Dinners, Banquets, Etc.

Dinner, as we all know, indicates a certain hour and a certain habit whose aim is the nourishment of the body, and a deliverance from hunger; but in our modern civilized life it possesses other purposes also. Man is a gregarious animal, and when he takes his food he likes company; from this peculiarity there has sprung up the custom of dinner parties. In attending dinner parties, however, the guests as a rule do not seek sustenance, they only go to them when they have nothing else to do, and many scarcely touch the food that is laid before them. Their object is to do honor to the host and hostess, not to eat, but to be entertained by pleasant and congenial conversation. Nevertheless, the host, at whose invitation the company has assembled, is expected to provide a great abundance and a large variety of savory dishes, as well as a good supply of choice wines. Flesh and wine are indispensable, even though the entertainers eschew both in their private life, and most of the guests daily consume too much of each. Few have the courage to part with conventional practices when arranging a social function. American chefs are excellent caterers, and well know how to please the tastes of the American people. They concentrate on the art of providing dainty dishes, and human ingenuity is heavily taxed by them in their efforts to invent new gustatory delicacies. The dishes which they place before each guest are so numerous that even a gourmand must leave some untouched. At a fashionable dinner no one can possibly taste, much less eat, everything that is placed before him, yet the food is all so nicely cooked and served in so appetizing a manner, that it is difficult to resist the temptation at least to sample it; when you have done this, however, you will continue eating until all has been finished, but your stomach will probably be a sad sufferer, groaning grievously on the following day on account of the frolic of your palate. This ill-mated pair, although both are chiefly interested in food, seldom seem to agree. I must not omit to mention however that the number of courses served at an American millionaire's dinner is after all less numerous than those furnished at a Chinese feast. When a Chinese gentleman asks his friends to dine with him the menu may include anywhere from thirty to fifty or a hundred courses; but many of the dishes are only intended for show. The guests are not expected to eat everything on the table, or even to taste every delicacy, unless, indeed, they specially desire to do so. Again, we don't eat so heartily as do the Americans, but content ourselves with one or two mouthfuls from each set of dishes, and allow appreciable intervals to elapse between courses, during which we make merry, smoke, and otherwise enjoy the company. This is a distinct advantage in favor of China.

In Europe and America, dessert forms the last course at dinner; in China this is served first. I do not know which is the better way. Chinese are ever ready to accept the best from every quarter, and so many of us have recently adopted the Western practice regarding dessert, while still retaining the ancient Chinese custom, so that now we eat sweetmeats and fruit at the beginning, during dinner, and at the end. This happy combination of Eastern and Western practices is, I submit, worthy of expansion and extension. If it were to become universal it would help to discourage the present unwholesome habit, for it is nothing more than a habit, of devouring flesh. One of the dishes indispensable at a fashionable American dinner is the terrapin. Those who eat these things say that their flesh has a most agreeable and delicate flavor, and that their gelatinous skinny necks and fins are delicious, but apparently the most palatable tidbits pall the taste in time, for it is said that about forty years ago terrapins were so abundant and cheap that workmen in their agreement with their employers stipulated that terrapin should not be supplied at their dinner table more than three times a week. Since then terrapins have become so rare that no stylish dinner ever takes place without this dish. Oysters are another Western sine qua non, and are always served raw. I wonder how many ladies and gentlemen who swallow these mollusca with such evident relish know that they are veritable scavengers, which pick up and swallow every dirty thing in the water. A friend of mine after taking a few of them on one occasion, had to leave the table and go home; he was ill afterward for several days. One cannot be too careful as to what one eats. The United States has a Pure Food Department, but I think it might learn a great deal that it does not know if it were to send a commission to China to study life in the Buddhist monasteries, where only sanitary, healthful food is consumed. It is always a surprise to me that people are so indifferent to the kind of food they take. Public health officers are useful officials, but when we have become more civilized each individual will be his own health officer.

Some of the well-known Chinese dishes are very relishable and should not be overlooked by chefs and dinner hostesses. I refer to the sharks' fins, and birds' nest -- the Eastern counterpart of the Western piece de resistance -- the terrapin. From a hygienic point of view sharks' fins may not be considered as very desirable, seeing they are part of the shark, but they are certainly not worse, and are perhaps better, than what is called the "high and tender" pheasant, and other flesh foods which are constantly found on Western dining tables, and which are so readily eaten by connoisseurs. Birds' nest soup is far superior to turtle soup, and I have the opinion of an American chemist who analyzed it, that it is innocuous and minus the injurious uric acid generated by animal flesh, the cause of rheumatic and similar painful complaints.

The "chop suey" supplied in the Chinese restaurants in New York, Chicago, and other places, seems to be a favorite dish with the American public. It shows the similarity of our tastes, and encourages me to expect that some of my recommendations will be accepted.

Will some one inform me why so many varieties of wines are always served on American tables, and why the sparkling champagne is never avoidable? Wealthy families will spare neither pains nor expense to spread most sumptuous dinners, and it has been reported that the cost of an entertainment given by one rich lady amounted to twenty thousand pounds sterling, although, as I have said, eating is the last thing for which the guests assemble. I do not suppose that many will agree with me, but in my opinion it would be much more agreeable, and improve the general conversation, if all drinks of an intoxicating nature were abolished from the dining table. It is gratifying to know that there are some families (may the number increase every day!) where intoxicating liquors are never seen on their tables. The first instance of this sort that came under my notice was in the home of that excellent woman, Mrs. M. F. Henderson, who is an ardent advocate of diet reform and teetotalism. Mr. William Jennings Bryan, the Secretary of State, has set a noble example, as from newspaper reports it appears that he gave a farewell dinner to Ambassador Bryce, without champagne or other alcoholic drinks. He has a loyal supporter in Shanghai, in the person of the American Consul-General, Dr. A. P. Wilder, who, to the great regret of everybody who knows him in this port, is retiring from the service on account of ill-health. Dr. Wilder is very popular and figures largely in the social life of the community, but Dr. Wilder is a staunch opponent of alcohol, and through his influence wines at public dinners are always treated as extras. So long as the liquor traffic is so extensively and profitably carried on in Europe and America, and so long as the consumption of alcohol is so enormous, so long will there be a difference of opinion as to its ill effects, but in this matter, by means of its State Prohibition Laws, America is setting an example to the world. In no other country are there such extensive tracts without alcohol as the "Dry States" of America. China, who is waging war on opium, recognizes in this fact a kindred, active moral force which is absent elsewhere, and, shaking hands with her sister republic across the seas, hopes that she will some day be as free of alcoholic poisons as China herself hopes to be of opium. Every vice, however, has its defense. Some years ago I met a famous Dutch artist in Peking, who, though still in the prime of life, was obliged to lay aside his work for a few days each month, due to an occasional attack of rheumatism. I found he was fond of his cup, though I did not understand that he was an immoderate drinker. I discoursed to him somewhat lengthily about the evil effects of drink, and showed him that unless he was willing to give up all intoxicating liquor, his rheumatism would never give him up. He listened attentively, pondered for a few minutes, and then gave this characteristic answer: "I admit the soundness of your argument but I enjoy my glass exceedingly; if I were to follow your advice I should be deprived of a lot of pleasure. Indeed, I would rather have the rheumatic pains, which disappear after two or three days, and continue to enjoy my alcoholic drinks, than endure the misery of doing without them." I warned him that in course of time his rheumatism would be longer in duration and attack him more frequently, if he continued to ignore its warnings and to play with what, for him, was certainly poison. When anyone has a habit, be it injurious or otherwise, it is not easy to persuade him to abandon it.

"The Aristocracy of Health" written by the talented Mrs. Henderson is an admirable work. I owe much to it. The facts and arguments adduced against tobacco smoking, strong drink and poisonous foods, are set forth in such a clear and convincing manner, that soon after reading it I became a teetotaler and "sanitarian"* and began at once to reap the benefits. I felt that I ought not to keep such a good thing to myself, but that I should preach the doctrine far and wide. I soon found, however, that it was an impossible task to try to save men from themselves, and I acquired the unenviable sobriquet of "crank"; but I was not dismayed. From my native friends I turned to the foreign community in Peking, thinking that the latter would possess better judgment, appreciate and be converted to the sanitarian doctrine. Among the foreigners I appealed to, one was a distinguished diplomat, and the other a gentleman in the Chinese service, with a world-wide reputation. Both were elderly and in delicate health, and it was my earnest hope that by reading Mrs. Henderson's book, which was sent to them, they would be convinced of their errors and turn over a new leaf -- I was disappointed. Both, in returning the book, made substantially the same answer. "Mrs. Henderson's work is very interesting, but at my time of life it is not advisable to change life-long habits. I eat flesh moderately, and never drink much wine." They both seemed to overlook the crucial problem as to whether or not animal food contains hurtful poison. If it does, it should not be eaten at all. We never hear of sensible people taking arsenic, strychnine, or other poisons, in moderation, but many foolish women, I believe, take arsenic to pale their complexions, while others, both men and women, take strychnine in combination with other drugs, as a tonic, but will anyone argue that these substances are foods? The rule of moderation is applicable to things which are nutritious, or at least harmless, but not to noxious foods, however small the quantity of poison they may contain.

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*  I have never been a smoker and have always eschewed tobacco, cigarettes, etc.; though for a short while to oblige friends I occasionally accepted a cigarette, now I firmly refuse everything of the sort.
   
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Pleasant conversation at the dinner table is always enjoyable, and a good talker is always welcome, but I often wonder why Americans, who generally are so quick to improve opportunity, and are noted for their freedom from traditional conventionalisms, do not make a more systematic use of the general love of good conversation. Anyone who is a witty conversationalist, with a large fund of anecdote, is sure to be asked by every dinner host to help to entertain the guests, but if the company be large the favorite can be enjoyed by only a few, and those who are too far away to hear, or who are just near enough to hear a part but not all, are likely to feel aggrieved. They cannot hear what is amusing the rest, while the talk elsewhere prevents their talking as they would if there were no interruptions. A raconteur generally monopolizes half the company, and leaves the other half out in the cold. This might be avoided if talkers were engaged to entertain the whole company during dinner, as pianists are now sometimes engaged to play to them after dinner. Or, the entertainment might be varied by engaging a good professional reciter to reproduce literary gems, comic or otherwise. I am sure the result would bring more general satisfaction to the guests than the present method of leaving them to entertain themselves. Chinese employ singing girls; Japanese, geishas to talk, sing or dance. The ideal would here again seem to be an amalgamation of East and West.

It is difficult for a mixed crowd to be always agreeable, even in the congenial atmosphere of a good feast, unless the guests have been selected with a view to their opinions rather than to their social standing. Place a number of people whose ideas are common, with a difference, around a well-spread table and there will be no lack of good, earnest, instructive conversation. Most men and women can talk well if they have the right sort of listeners. If the hearer is unsympathetic the best talker becomes dumb. Hosts who remember this will always be appreciated. As a rule, a dinner conversation is seldom worth remembering, which is a pity. Man, the most sensible of all animals, can talk nonsense better than all the rest of his tribe. Perhaps the flow of words may be as steady as the eastward flow of the Yang-tse-Kiang in my own country, but the memory only retains a recollection of a vague, undefined -- what? The conversation like the flavors provided by the cooks has been evanescent. Why should not hostesses make as much effort to stimulate the minds of their guests as they do to gratify their palates? What a boon it would be to many a bashful man, sitting next to a lady with whom he has nothing in common, if some public entertainer during the dinner relieved him from the necessity of always thinking of what he should say next? How much more he could enjoy the tasty dishes his hostess had provided; and as for the lady -- what a number of suppressed yawns she might have avoided. To take great pains and spend large sums to provide nice food for people who cannot enjoy it because they have to talk to one another, seems a pity. Let one man talk to the rest and leave them leisure to eat, is my suggestion. The opportunities afforded at the dining table may be turned to many useful purposes. Of course not all are ill-paired, and many young men and ladies meet, sit side by side, engage in a friendly, pleasant conversation, renew their acquaintance at other times, and finally merge their separate paths in the highway of marriage. Perhaps China might borrow a leaf from this custom and substitute dinner parties for go-betweens. The dinner-party method, however, has its dangers as well as its advantages -- it depends on the point of view. Personal peculiarities and defects, if any, can be easily detected by the way in which the conversation is carried on, and the manner in which the food is handled. It has sometimes happened that the affianced have cancelled their engagement after a dinner party. On the other hand, matters of great import can often be arranged at the dinner table better than anywhere else. Commercial transactions involving millions of dollars have frequently been settled while the parties were sipping champagne; even international problems, ending in elaborate negotiations and treaties, have been first discussed with the afterdinner cigar. The atmosphere of good friendship and equality, engendered by a well-furnished room, good cheer, pleasant company, and a genial hostess, disarms prejudice, removes barriers, melts reserve, and disposes one to see that there is another side to every question.

In China when people have quarreled their friends generally invite them to dinner, where the matters in dispute are amicably arranged. These are called "peace dinners". I would recommend that a similar expedient should be adopted in America; many a knotty point could be disposed of by a friendly discussion at the dinner table. If international disputes were always arranged in this way the representatives of nations having complaints against each other might more often than now discover unexpected ways of adjusting their differences. Why should such matters invariably be remanded to formal conferences and set speeches? The preliminaries, at least, would probably be better arranged at dinner parties and social functions. Eating has always been associated with friendship. "To eat salt" with an Arab forms a most binding contract. Even "the serpent" in the book of Genesis commenced his acquaintance with Eve by suggesting a meal.

It almost seems as if there were certain unwritten laws in American society, assigning certain functions to certain days in the week. I do not believe Americans are superstitious, but I found that Thursday was greatly in favor. I remember on one occasion that Mrs. Grant, widow of the late President, sent an invitation to my wife and myself to dine at her house some Thursday evening; this was three weeks in advance, and we readily accepted her invitation. After our acceptance, about a dozen invitations came for that same Thursday, all of which we had, of course, to decline. Curiously enough we received no invitations for any other day during that week, and just before that eventful Thursday we received a letter from Mrs. Grant cancelling the invitation on account of the death of one of her relations, so that we had to dine at home after all. Now we Chinese make no such distinctions between days. Every day of the week is equally good; in order however to avoid clashing with other peoples' engagements, we generally fix Fridays for our receptions or dinners, but there is not among the Chinese an entertainment season as there is in Washington, and other great cities, when everybody in good society is busy attending or giving "At Homes", tea parties or dinners. I frequently attended "At Homes" or tea parties in half-a-dozen places or more in one afternoon, but no one can dine during the same evening in more than one place. In this respect America might learn a lesson from China. We can accept half-a-dozen invitations to dinner for one evening; all we have to do is to go to each place in turn, partake of one or two dishes, excuse ourselves to the host and then go somewhere else. By this means we avoid the seeming rudeness of a declination, and escape the ill feelings which are frequently created in the West by invitations being refused. The Chinese method makes possible the cultivation of democratic friendships without violating aristocratic instincts, and for candidates at election times it would prove an agreeable method by which to make new friends. We are less rigid than Americans about dropping in and taking a mouthful or two at dinner, even without a special invitation.*

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*
   
    Since writing the above, I have heard from an American lady that "progressive dinners" have recently been introduced by the idle and rich set of young people in New York. The modus operandi is that several dinners will, by arrangement, be given on a certain day, and the guests will go to each house alternately, eating one or two dishes only and remaining at the last house for fruit. I can hardly believe this, but my friend assures me it is a fact. It seems that eating is turned into play, and to appreciate the fun, I would like to be one of the actors.
   
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Washington officials and diplomats usually give large entertainments. The arranging of the seats at the dinner table is a delicate matter, as the rule of precedence has to be observed, and inattention to the rule, by placing a wrong seat for a gentleman or lady who is entitled to a higher place, may be considered as a slight. It is at such functions as these that the professional story-teller, the good reciter, the clever reader, the perfect entertainer would make the natural selfish reserve of mankind less apparent.

Fashionable people, who entertain a good deal, are, I understand, often puzzled to know how to provide novelties. In addition to the suggestions I have made, may I be pardoned another? There are many good cooks in the U.S.A. Why not commission these to sometimes prepare a recherche Chinese dinner, with the food served in bowls instead of plates, and with chop-sticks ("nimble lads" we call them) for show, but forks and spoons for use. I see no reason why Chinese meals should not become fashionable in America, as Western preparations are frequently favored by the Elite in China. One marked difference between the two styles is the manner in which the Chinese purveyor throws his most delicate flavors into strong relief by prefacing it with a diet which is insipid, harsh or pungent. Contrasts add zest to everything human, be it dining, working, playing, or wooing.

This suggests an occasional, toothsome vegetarian repast as a set-off to the same round of fish, flesh, fowl and wine fumes. No people in the world can prepare such delicious vegetarian banquets as a Chinese culinary artist. A banquet is a more formal affair than the dinner parties I have been discussing. It is generally gotten up to celebrate some special event, such as the conclusion of some important business, or the birthday of some national hero like Washington, Lincoln, or Grant; or the Chambers of Commerce and Associations of different trades in the important cities of America will hold their annual meetings to hear a report and discuss the businesses transacted during the year, winding up by holding a large banquet. The food supplied on these occasions is by no means superior to that given at private dinners, yet everybody is glad to be invited. It is the inevitable rule that speeches follow the eating, and people attend, not for the sake of the food, but for the privilege of hearing others talk. Indeed, except for the opportunity of talking, or hearing others talk, people would probably prefer a quiet meal at home. Speakers with a reputation, orators, statesmen, or foreign diplomats are frequently invited, and sometimes eminent men from other countries are the guests of honor. These functions occur every year, and the Foreign Ministers with whose countries the Associations have commercial relations are generally present. The topics discussed are nearly always the same, and it is not easy to speak at one of these gatherings without going over the same ground as that covered on previous occasions. I remember that a colleague of mine who was a clever diplomat, and for whom I had great respect, once when asked to make an after-dinner speech, reluctantly rose and, as far as I can remember, spoke to the following effect: "Mr. Chairman and gentlemen, I thank your Association for inviting me to this splendid banquet, but as I had the honor of speaking at your banquet last year I have nothing more to add, and I refer you to that speech;" he then sat down. The novelty of his remarks, of course, won him applause, but I should like to know what the company really thought of him. For my part, I praised his wisdom, for he diplomatically rebuked all whose only interest is that which has its birth with the day and disappears with the night.

Banquets and dinners in America, as in China, are, however, often far removed from frivolities. Statesmen sometimes select these opportunities for a pronouncement of their policy, even the President of the nation may occasionally think it advisable to do this. Speeches delivered on such occasions are generally reported in all the newspapers, and, of course, discussed by all sorts of people, the wise and the otherwise, so that the speaker has to be very careful as to what he says. Our President confines himself to the more formal procedure of issuing an official mandate, the same in kind, though differing in expression, as an American President's Inaugural Address, or one of his Messages to Congress. Commercial men do not understand and are impatient with the restrictions which hedge round a Foreign Minister, and in their anxiety to get speakers they will look anywhere. On one occasion I received an invitation to go to Canada to attend a banquet at a Commercial Club in one of the principal Canadian cities. It would have given me great pleasure to be able to comply with this request, as I had not then visited that country, but, contrary to inclination, I had to decline. I was accredited as Minister to Washington, and did not feel at liberty to visit another country without the special permission of my Home Government. Public speaking, like any other art, has to be cultivated. However scholarly a man may be, and however clever he may be in private conversation, when called upon to speak in public he may sometimes make a very poor impression. I have known highly placed foreign officials, with deserved reputations for wisdom and ability, who were shockingly poor speakers at banquets. They would hesitate and almost stammer, and would prove quite incapable of expressing their thoughts in any sensible or intelligent manner. In this respect, personal observations have convinced me that Americans, as a rule, are better speakers than. . . . (I will not mention the nationality in my mind, it might give offense.) An American, who, without previous notice, is called upon to speak, generally acquits himself creditably. He is nearly always witty, appreciative, and frank. This is due, I believe, to the thorough-going nature of his education: he is taught to be self-confident, to believe in his own ability to create, to express his opinions without fear. A diffident and retiring man, whose chief characteristic is extreme modesty, is not likely to be a good speaker; but Americans are free from this weakness. Far be it from me to suggest that there are no good speakers in other countries. America can by no means claim a monopoly of orators; there are many elsewhere whose sage sayings and forcible logic are appreciated by all who hear or read them; but, on the whole, Americans excel others in the readiness of their wit, and their power to make a good extempore speech on any subject, without opportunity for preparation.

Neither is the fair sex in America behind the men in this matter. I have heard some most excellent speeches by women, speeches which would do credit to an orator; but they labor under a disadvantage. The female voice is soft and low, it is not easily heard in a large room, and consequently the audience sometimes does not appreciate lady speakers to the extent that they deserve. However, I know a lady who possesses a powerful, masculine voice, and who is a very popular speaker, but she is an exception. Anyhow I believe the worst speaker, male or female, could improve by practising private declamation, and awakening to the importance of articulation, modulation, and -- the pause. Another class of social functions are "At Homes", tea parties, and receptions. The number of guests invited to these is almost unlimited, it may be one or two dozen, or one or two dozen hundreds. The purpose of these is usually to meet some distinguished stranger, some guest in the house, or the newly married daughter of the hostess. It is impossible for the host or hostess to remember all those who attend, or even all who have been invited to attend; generally visitors leave their cards, although many do not even observe this rule, but walk right in as if they owned the house. When a newcomer is introduced his name is scarcely audible, and before the hostess, or the distinguished guest, has exchanged more than one or two words with him, another stranger comes along, so that it is quite excusable if the next time the hosts meet these people they do not recognize them. In China a new fashion is now in vogue; new acquaintances exchange cards. If this custom should be adopted in America there would be less complaints about new friends receiving the cold shoulder from those who they thought should have known them.

In large receptions, such as those mentioned above, however spacious the reception hall, in a great many instances there is not even standing room for all who attend. It requires but little imagination to understand the condition of the atmosphere when there is no proper ventilation. Now, what always astonished me was, that although the parlor might be crowded with ladies and gentlemen, all the windows were, as a rule, kept closed, with the result that the place was full of vitiated air. Frequently after a short time I have had to slip away when I would willingly have remained longer to enjoy the charming company. If I had done so, however, I should have taken into my lungs a large amount of the obnoxious atmosphere exhaled from hundreds of other persons in the room, to the injury of my health, and no one can give his fellows his best unless his health is hearty. No wonder we often hear of a host or hostess being unwell after a big function. Their feelings on the morning after are often the reverse of "good-will to men", and the cause is not a lowered moral heartiness but a weakened physical body through breathing too much air exhaled from other people's lungs. When man understands, he will make "good health" a religious duty.

In connection with this I quote Dr. J. H. Kellogg, the eminent physician and Superintendent of the Battle Creek Sanitarium. In his book, "The Living Temple"*, the doctor speaks as follows on the importance of breathing pure air: "The purpose of breathing is to obtain from the air a supply of oxygen, which the blood takes up and carries to the tissues. Oxygen is one of the most essential of all the materials required for the support of life. . . . The amount of oxygen necessarily required for this purpose is about one and one-fourth cubic inches for each breath. . . . In place of the one and one-fourth cubic inches of oxygen taken into the blood, a cubic inch of carbonic acid gas is given off, and along with it are thrown off various other still more poisonous substances which find a natural exit through the lungs. The amount of these combined poisons thrown off with a single breath is sufficient to contaminate, and render unfit to breathe, three cubic feet, or three-fourths of a barrel, of air. Counting an average of twenty breaths a minute for children and adults, the amount of air contaminated per minute would be three times twenty or sixty cubic feet, or one cubic foot a second. . . . Every one should become intelligent in relation to the matter of ventilation, and should appreciate its importance. Vast and irreparable injury frequently results from the confinement of several scores or hundreds of people in a schoolroom, church, or lecture room, without adequate means of removing the impurities thrown off from their lungs and bodies. The same air being breathed over and over becomes densely charged with poisons, which render the blood impure, lessen the bodily resistance, and induce susceptibility to taking cold, and to infection with the germs of pneumonia, consumption, and other infectious diseases, which are always present in a very crowded audience room. Suppose, for example, a thousand persons are seated in a room forty feet in width, sixty in length, and fifteen in height: how long a time would elapse before the air of such a room would become unfit for further respiration? Remembering that each person spoils one foot of air every second, it is clear that one thousand cubic feet of air will be contaminated for every second that the room is occupied. To ascertain the number of seconds which would elapse before the entire air contained in the room will be contaminated, so that it is unfit for further breathing, we have only to divide the cubic contents of the room by one thousand. Multiplying, we have 60*40*15 equals 36,000, the number of cubic feet. This, divided by one thousand, gives thirty-six as the number of seconds. Thus it appears that with closed doors and windows, breath poisoning of the audience would begin at the end of thirty-six seconds, or less than one minute. The condition of the air in such a room at the end of an hour cannot be adequately pictured in words, and yet hundreds of audiences are daily subjected to just such inhumane treatment through ignorance."

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   *  "The Living Temple", by J. H. Kellogg, pp. 282 et al. Published by Good Health Publishing Co., Battle Creek, Mich., U.S.A.
   
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The above remarks apply not only to churches, lecture rooms, and other public places, but also with equal force to offices and family houses. I should like to know how many persons pay even a little attention to this important subject of pure air breathing? You go to an office, whether large or small, and you find all the windows closed, although there are half-a-dozen or more persons working in the room. No wonder that managers, clerks, and other office workers often break down and require a holiday to recuperate their impaired health at the seaside, or elsewhere.

When you call at a private residence you will find the same thing, all the windows closed. It is true that there are not so many persons in the room as in an office, but if your sense of smell is keen you will notice that the air has close, stuffy exhalations, which surely cannot be sanitary. If you venture to suggest that one of the windows be opened the lady of the house will at once tell you that you will be in a draught and catch cold. It is a matter of daily occurrence to find a number of persons dining in a room where there is no opening for the contaminated air to leak out, or for the fresh air to come in. After dinner the gentlemen adjourn to the library to enjoy the sweet perfumes of smoking for an hour or so with closed windows. What a picture would be presented if the bacteria in the air could be sketched, enlarged, and thrown on a screen, or better still shown in a cinematograph, but apparently gentlemen do not mind anything so long as they can inhale the pernicious tobacco fumes. It is a common practice, I fear, to keep the windows of the bedroom closed, except in hot weather. I have often suggested to friends that, for the sake of their health, they should at least keep one of the windows, if not more, open during the night, but they have pooh-poohed the idea on account of that bugaboo -- a draught. It is one of the mysteries of the age that people should be willing to breathe second-hand air when there is so much pure, fresh air out of doors to be had for nothing; after inhaling and exhaling the same air over and over again all through the night it is not strange that they rise in the morning languid and dull instead of being refreshed and in high spirits. No one who is deprived of a sufficiency of fresh air can long remain efficient. Health is the cornerstone of success. I hear many nowadays talking of Eugenics. Eugenics was founded ten years ago by Sir Francis Galton, who defined it thus: "The study of agencies under control that may improve or impair the racial qualities of future generations, either physically or mentally." The University of London has adopted this definition, where a chair of Eugenics has been founded. This science is undoubtedly of the first importance, but what advantage is good birth if afterward life is poisoned with foul air? A dust-laden atmosphere is a germ-laden atmosphere, therefore physicians prescribe for tubercular convalescents conditions in which the air is 90% free from dust. However, the air of the city has been scientifically proven to be as pure as the air of the country. All that is necessary to secure proper lung food is plenty of it, -- houses so constructed that the air inside shall be free to go out and the air outside to come in. Air in a closed cage must be mischievous, and what are ill-ventilated rooms but vicious air cages, in which mischiefs of all sorts breed?

America professes to believe in publicity, and what is "publicity" but the open window and the open door? Practise this philosophy and it will be easy to keep on the sunny side of the street and to discourage the glooms. The joys fly in at open windows.

Chapter 14. Theaters

The ideal of China is sincerity but an actor is a pretender. He appears to be what he is not. Now our ancient wise men felt that pretense of any sort must have a dangerous reactionary influence on the character. If a man learns how to be a clever actor on the stage he may be a skilled deceiver in other walks of life. Moreover, no one to whom sincerity is as the gums are to the teeth, would wish to acquire the art of acting as though he were some one else. Hence actors in China have from ancient times been looked down upon. Actresses, until the last decade or so, were unknown in China, and a boy who became an actor could never afterward occupy any position of honor. He, his children and his grandchildren might be farmers, merchants or soldiers, but they could never be teachers, literary men or officials. The Chinese feeling for sincerity, amounting almost to worship, has caused the profession of an actor in China to be considered a very low one, and so until the new regime the actor was always debarred from attending any literary examination, and was also deprived of the privilege of obtaining official appointment; in fact he was considered an outcast of society. No respectable Chinese family would think of allowing their son to go on the stage. As a natural consequent the members of the Chinese stage have, as a rule, been men who were as much below the level of moral respectability as conventionalism had already adjudged them to be below the level of social respectability. Regard anyone as a mirror with a cracked face and he will soon justify your opinion of him. If the morals of Chinese actors will not bear investigation it is probably due to the social ostracism to which they have always been subjected. The same phenomenon may be seen in connection with Buddhism. As soon as Buddhism in China ceased to be a power the priests became a despised class and being despised they have often given occasion to others to despise them. I am aware that quite a different view is held of the stage in America and Europe, and that actors and actresses are placed on an equal footing with other members of society. This does not, of course, mean that either America or Europe lays less stress on sincerity than China, but simply that we have developed in different ways. I have heard of the old "morality plays", I know that English drama, like the Egyptian, Greek, and Indian, had its origin in religion, but this alone will not explain the different attitude assumed toward actors in the West from that taken up in China. I am inclined to think that the reason why actors are not despised in the West as they are in China is because the West considers first the utility of pleasure, and the East the supremacy of sincerity. Here, as is so frequently the case, apparent differences are largely differences of emphasis. The West would seem to emphasize the beauty of the desire to please where Chinese consider the effect on character or business. The expensive dinners which no one eats and which I discussed in a previous chapter are an illustration. No one in China would spend money in this fashion excepting for some definite purpose.

 

We Chinese like to flatter, and to openly praise to their faces those whom we admire. Most Westerners, would, I think, please rather than admire; most men and women in America and Europe enjoy applause more than instruction. This recognition of the delicate pleasure of being able to please some one else naturally attracts quite a different type to the Western stage from the material usually found in Chinese dramatic companies, and in a society where everyone acknowledges the beauty of pleasing another, the position of the actor naturally becomes both envied and desirable. When therefore a man or woman succeeds on the European or American stage he or she is looked up to and welcomed in fashionable society, e.g., Henry Irving had the entree to the highest society, and his portrait was always found among the notables. Newspapers published long notices of his stage performances, and when he died he received as great honors as England could give. During his lifetime he enjoyed the royal favor of Queen Victoria, who conferred a knighthood upon him. After his death his biography was published and read by thousands. All this is quite contrary to the spirit of the Chinese who, no matter how clever a man may be as an actor, can never forget that he is a pretender and that the cleverer he is the greater care exists for guarding one's self against his tricks.

Actresses are no less respected and honored in the West, whereas in China there are positively no respectable women on the stage. Yet in the West it is a common occurrence to hear of marriages of actresses to bankers, merchants, and millionaires. Even ballet-girls have become duchesses by marriage. The stage is considered a noble profession. Often, when a girl has a good voice, nothing will satisfy her but a stage career. A situation such as this is very difficult for a Chinese to analyze. The average Chinese woman lacks the imagination, the self-abandon, the courage which must be necessary before a girl can think of herself as standing alone in a bright light before a large audience waiting to see her dance or hear her sing. Chinese actresses were quite unknown until very recently, and the few that may be now found on the Chinese stage were nearly all of questionable character before they entered the theater. In the northern part of China some good Chinese women may be found in circuses, but these belong to the working class and take up the circus life with their husbands and brothers for a livelihood. The actresses of the West are different. They are drawn to the stage for the sake of art; and it must be their splendid daring as much as their beauty which induces wealthy men, and even some of the nobility, to marry these women. Man loves courage and respects all who are brave enough to fight for their own. In a world where self-love (not selfishness) is highly esteemed, manhood, or the power of self-assertion, whether in man or woman, naturally becomes a fascinating virtue. No one likes to be colleague to a coward. The millionaires and others who have married actresses -- and as actresses make plenty of money they are not likely to be willing to marry poor men -- meet many women in society as beautiful as the women they see on the stage, but society women lack the supreme courage and daring of the stage girl. Thus, very often the pretty, though less educated, ballet-girl, wins the man whom her more refined and less self-assertive sister -- the ordinary society girl -- is sorry to lose.

The suffragettes are too intent just now on getting "Votes for Women" to listen to proposals of marriage, but when they succeed in obtaining universal suffrage I should think they would have little difficulty in obtaining brave husbands, for the suffragettes have courage. These women, however, are serious, and I do not think that men in the West, judging from what I have seen, like very serious wives. So perhaps after all the ballet-girl and actresses will have more chances in the marriage (I had almost written money) market than the suffragettes.

I may be mistaken in my theories. I have never had the opportunity of discussing the matter with a millionaire or an actress, nor have I talked about the stage with any of the ladies who make it their home, but unless it is their superb independence and their ability to throw off care and to act their part which attract men who are looking for wives, I cannot account for so many actresses marrying so well. What, however, we may ask, is the object of the theater? Is it not amusement? But when a serious play ending tragically is put on the boards is that amusement? The feelings of the audience after witnessing such a play must be far from pleasant, and sometimes even moody; yet tragedies are popular, and many will pay a high price to see a well-known actor commit most objectionable imitation-crimes on the stage. A few weeks before this chapter was written a number of men of different nationalities were punished for being present at a cockfight in Shanghai. Mexican and Spanish bullfights would not be permitted in the United States, and yet it is a question whether the birds or the animals who take part in these fights really suffer very much. They are in a state of ferocious exaltation, and are more concerned about killing their opponents than about their own hurts. Soldiers have been seriously wounded without knowing anything about it until the excitement of the battle had died away. Why then forbid cockfighting or bull-baiting? They would be popular amusements if allowed. It is certain that animals that are driven long distances along dirty roads, cattle, sheep, and fowl that are cooped up for many weary hours in railway trucks, simply that they may reach a distant market and be slaughtered to gratify perverted human appetites, really suffer more than the cock or bull who may be killed or wounded in a fight with others of his own kind. What about the sufferings of pugilists who take part in the prize-fights, in which so many thousands in the United States delight? It cannot be pity, therefore, for the birds or beasts, which makes the authorities forbid cockfighting and bull-baiting. It must be that although these are exhibitions of courage and skill, the exhibition is degrading to the spectators and to those who urge the creatures to fight. But what is the difference, so far as the spectator is concerned, between watching a combat between animals or birds and following a vivid dramatization of cruelty on the stage? In the latter case the mental sufferings which are portrayed are frequently more harrowing than the details of any bull- or cockfight. Such representation, therefore, unless a very clear moral lesson or warning is emblazoned throughout the play, must have the effect of making actors, actresses and spectators less sympathetic with suffering. Familiarity breeds insensibility. What I have said of melodrama applies also, though in a lesser degree, to books, and should be a warning to parents to exercise proper supervision of their children's reading.

Far be it from me to disparage the work of the playwright; the plot is often well laid and the actors, especially the prima-donna, execute their parts admirably. I am considering the matter, at the moment, from the view-point of a play-goer. What benefit does he receive from witnessing a tragedy? In his home and his office has he not enough to engage his serious attention, and to frequently worry his mind? Is it worth his while to dress and spend an evening watching a performance which, however skilfully played, will make him no happier than before? It is a characteristic of those who are fond of sensational plays that they do not mind watching the tragical ending of a hero or a heroine, and all for the sake of amusement. Young people and children are not likely to get good impressions from this sort of thing. It has even been said that murders have been committed by youngsters who had been taken by their parents to see a realistic melodrama. It is dangerous to allow young people of tender age to see such plays. The juvenile mind is not ripe enough to form correct judgments. Some time ago I read in one of the American papers that a boy had killed his father with a knife, on seeing him ill-treat his mother when in a state of intoxication. It appeared that the lad had witnessed a dramatic tragedy in a theater, and in killing his father considered he was doing a heroic act. He could, by the same rule, have been inspired to a noble act of self-sacrifice.

After all, the main question is, does a sensational play exercise a beneficial or a pernicious influence over the audience? If the reader will consider the matter impartially he should not have any difficulty in coming to a right conclusion. Theatrical performances should afford amusement and excite mirth, as well as give instruction. People who visit theaters desire to be entertained and to pass the time pleasantly. Anything which excites mirth and laughter is always welcomed by an audience. But a serious piece from which humor has been excluded, is calculated, even when played with sympathetic feeling and skill, to create a sense of gravity among the spectators, which, to say the least, can hardly be restful to jaded nerves. Yet when composing his plays the playwright should never lose sight of the moral. Of course he has to pay attention to the arrangement of the different parts of the plot and the characters represented, but while it is important that each act and every scene should be harmoniously and properly set, and that the characters should be adapted to the piece as a whole, it is none the less important that a moral should be enforced by it. The practical lesson to be learned from the play should never be lost sight of. In Chinese plays the moral is always prominent. The villain is punished, virtue is rewarded, while the majority of the plays are historical. All healthy-minded people will desire to see a play end with virtue rewarded, and vice vanquished. Those who want it otherwise are unnatural and possess short views of life. Either in this life or in some other, each receives according to his deserts, and this lesson should always be taught by the play. Yet from all the clever dramas which have been written and acted on the Western stage from time to time what a very small percentage of moral lessons can be drawn, while too many of them have unfortunately been of an objectionable nature. Nearly everyone reads novels, especially the younger folk; to many of these a visit to a theater is like reading a novel, excepting that the performance makes everything more realistic. A piece with a good moral cannot therefore fail to make an excellent impression on the audience while at the same time affording them amusement.

I am somewhat surprised that the churches, ethical societies and reform associations in America do not more clearly appreciate the valuable aid they might receive from the stage. I have been told that some churches pay their singers more than their preachers, which shows that they have some idea of the value of good art. Why not go a step further and preach through a play? This does not mean that there should be no fun but that the moral should be well thrust home. I have heard of preachers who make jokes while preaching, so that it should not be so very difficult to act interesting sermons which would elevate, even if they did not amuse. People who went to church to see a theater would not expect the same entertainment as those who go to the theater simply for a laugh. In China we do not expend as much energy as Americans and Europeans in trying to make other people good. We try to be good ourselves and believe that our good example, like a pure fragrance, will influence others to be likewise. We think practice is as good as precept, and, if I may say so without being supposed to be critical of a race different from my own, the thought has sometimes suggested itself to me that Americans are so intent on doing good to others, and on making others good, that they accomplish less than they would if their actions and intentions were less direct and obvious. I cannot here explain all I mean, but if my readers will study what Li Yu and Chuang Tsz have to say about "Spontaneity" and "Not Interfering", I think they will understand my thought. The theater, as I have already said, was in several countries religious in its origin; why not use it to elevate people indirectly? The ultimate effect, because more natural, might be better and truer than more direct persuasion. Pulpit appeals, I am given to understand, are sometimes very personal.

Since writing the above I have seen a newspaper notice of a dramatic performance in the Ethical Church, Queen's Road, Bayswater, London. The Ethical Church believes "in everything that makes life sweet and human" and the management state that they believe -- "the best trend of dramatic opinion to-day points not only to the transformation of theaters into centers of social enlightenment and moral elevation, but also to the transformation of the churches into centers for the imaginative presentation, by means of all the arts combined, of the deeper truths and meanings of life." Personally, I do not know anything about this society, but surely there is nothing out of harmony with Christianity in these professions, and I am glad to find here an alliance between the two greatest factors in the development of Western thought and culture -- the church and the theater. The newspaper article to which I have referred was describing the "old morality play, Everyman" which had been performed in the church. The visitor who was somewhat critical, and apparently unused to seeing the theater in a church, wrote of the performance thus: "Both the music and the dressing of the play were perfect, and from the moment that Death entered clad in blue stuff with immense blue wings upon his shoulders, and the trump in his hand, and stopped Everyman, a gorgeous figure in crimson robes and jewelled turban, with the question, `Who goes so gaily by?' the play was performed with an impressiveness that never faltered.

"The heaviest burden, of course, falls on Everyman, and the artist who played this part seemed to me, though I am no dramatic critic, to have caught the atmosphere and the spirit of the play. His performance, indeed, was very wonderful from the moment when he offers Death a thousand boons if only the dread summons may be delayed, to that final tense scene, when, stripped of his outer robe, he says his closing prayers, hesitates for a moment to turn back, though the dread angel is there by his side, and then follows the beckoning hand of Good Deeds, a figure splendidly robed in flowing draperies of crimson and with a wonderfully expressive mobile face.

"At the conclusion of the play Dr. Stanton Colt addressed a few words to the enthusiastic audience, `Forsake thy pride, for it will profit thee nothing,' he quoted, `If we could but remember this more carefully and also the fact that nothing save our good deeds shall ever go with us into that other World, surely it would help us to a holier and better life. Earthly things have their place and should have a due regard paid to them, but we must not forget the jewel of our souls.'"



"The Century Theater in New York City has special apparatus for producing wind effects, thunder and lightning simultaneously. The wind machine consists of a drum with slats which are rotated over an apron of corded silk, which produces the whistling sound of wind; the lightning is produced by powdered magnesium electrically ignited; thunder is simulated by rolling a thousand pounds of stone, junk and chain down a chute ending in an iron plate, followed by half-a-dozen cannon balls and supplemented by the deafening notes of a thunder drum."

Although, however, Chinese play-goers do not demand the expensive outfits and stage sceneries of the West, I must note here that not even on the American stage have I seen such gorgeous costumes, or robes of so rich a hue and displaying such glittering gold ornaments and graceful feathers, as I have seen on the simple Chinese stage I have just described. Western fashions are having a tendency in our ports and larger cities to modify some things that I have stated about Chinese theatrical performances, but the point I wish especially to impress on my readers is that theatrical performances in China, while amusing and interesting, are seldom melodramatic, and as I look back on my experiences in the United States, I cannot but think that the good people there are making a mistake in not utilizing the human natural love for excitement and the drama as a subsidiary moral investment. And, of course, all I have said of theaters applies with equal force to moving-picture shows.

I have, of course, heard of the "Passion Play" at Oberammergau in Germany where the life of Jesus Christ is periodically represented on the stage, but I say nothing about this, for, so far as I know, it is not performed in America, and I have not seen it; but I may note in passing that in China theaters are generally associated with the gods in the temples, and that the moral the play is meant to teach is always well driven home into the minds of the audience. We have not, however, ventured to introduce any of our sages to theater audiences.

The theater in China is a much simpler affair than in America. The residents in a locality unite and erect a large stage of bamboo and matting, the bamboo poles are tied with strips of rattan, and all the material of the stage, excepting the rattan, can be used over again when it is taken down. Most of the audience stand in front of the stage and in the open air, the theater generally being in front of the temple; and the play, which often occupies three or four days, is often performed in honor of the god's birthday. There is no curtain, and there are no stage accessories. The audience is thus enabled to concentrate its whole attention on the acting. Female parts are played by men, and everything is beautifully simple. There is no attempt to produce such elaborate effects as I have seen in the West, and of course nothing at all resembling the pantomime, which frequently requires mechanical arts. A newspaper paragraph caught my eye while thinking of this subject. I reproduce it.[/glow]

Chapter 15. Opera and Musical Entertainments

Opera is a form of entertainment which, though very popular in America and England, does not appeal to me. I know that those who are fond of music love to attend it, and that the boxes in an opera house are generally engaged by the fashionable set for the whole season beforehand. I have seen members of the "four hundred" in their boxes in a New York opera house; they have been distinguished by their magnificent toilettes and brilliant jewelry; but I have been thinking of the Chinese drama, which, like the old Greek play, is also based on music, and Chinese music with its soft and plaintive airs is a very different thing from the music of grand opera. Chinese music could not be represented on Western instruments, the intervals between the notes being different. Chinese singing is generally "recitative" accompanied by long notes, broken, or sudden chords from the orchestra. It differs widely from Western music, but its effects are wonderful. One of our writers has thus described music he once heard: "Softly, as the murmur of whispered words; now loud and soft together, like the patter of pearls and pearlets dropping upon a marble dish. Or liquid, like the warbling of the mango-bird in the bush; trickling like the streamlet on its downward course. And then like the torrent, stilled by the grip of frost, so for a moment was the music lulled, in a passion too deep for words." That this famous description of the effects of music which I have borrowed from Mr. Dyer Ball's "Things Chinese" is not exaggerated, anyone who knows China may confirm by personal observation of the keen enjoyment an unlearned, common day laborer will find in playing a single lute all by himself for hours beneath the moon on a warm summer evening, with no one listening but the trees and the flitting insects; but it requires a practised ear to appreciate singing and a good voice. On one occasion I went to an opera house in London to hear the world-renowned Madame Patti. The place was so crowded, and the atmosphere so close, that I felt very uncomfortable and I am ashamed to acknowledge that I had to leave before she had finished. If I had been educated to appreciate that sort of music no doubt I would have comprehended her singing better, and, however uncomfortable, I should no doubt have remained to the end of the entertainment.

While writing this chapter it happened that the following news from New York was published in the local papers in Shanghai. It should be interesting to my readers, especially to those who are lovers of music. "`Yellow music' will be the next novelty to startle and lure this blase town; amusement forecasters already see in the offing a Fall invasion of the mysterious Chinese airs which are now having such a vogue in London under the general term of `yellow music'.

"The time was when Americans and occidentals in general laughed at Chinese music, but this was due to their own ignorance of its full import and to the fact that they heard only the dirges of a Chinese funeral procession or the brassy noises that feature a celestial festival. They did not have opportunity to be enthralled by the throaty, vibrant melodies -- at once so lovingly seductive and harshly compelling -- by which Chinese poets and lovers have revealed their thoughts and won their quest for centuries. The stirring tom-tom, if not the ragtime which sets the occidental capering to-day, was common to the Chinese three or four hundred years ago. They heard it from the wild Tartars and Mongols -- heard it and rejected it, because it was primitive, untamed, and not to be compared with their own carefully controlled melodies. Mr. Emerson Whithorne, the famous British composer, who is an authority on oriental music, made this statement to the London music lovers last week:

"`The popularity of Chinese music is still in its childhood. From now on it will grow rapidly. Chinese music has no literature, as we understand that term, but none can say that it has not most captivating melodies. To the artistic temperament, in particular, it appeals enormously, and well-known artists -- musicians, painters, and so on -- say that it affects them in quite an extraordinary way."

Chinese music from an occidental standpoint has been unjustly described as "clashing cymbals, twanging guitars, harsh flageolets, and shrill flutes, ear-splitting and headache-producing to the foreigner." Such general condemnation shows deplorable ignorance.* The writer had apparently never attended an official service in honor of Confucius, held biennially during the whole of the Ching dynasty at 3 A.M. The "stone chimes", consisting of sonorous stones varying in tone and hanging in frames, which were played on those solemn occasions, have a haunting melody such as can be heard nowhere else. China, I believe, is the only country that has produced music from stones. It is naturally gratifying to me to hear that Chinese airs are now having a vogue in London, and that they will soon be heard in New York. It will take some little time for Westerners to learn to listen intelligently to our melodies which, being always in unison, in one key and in one movement, are apt at first to sound as wearisome and monotonous as Madame Patti's complicated notes did to me, but when they understand them they will have found a new delight in life.

Although we Chinese do not divide our plays into comedies and tragedies there is frequently a good deal of humor on the Chinese stage; yet we have nothing in China corresponding to the popular musical comedy of the West. A musical comedy is really a series of vaudeville performances strung together by the feeblest of plots. The essence seems to be catchy songs, pretty dances, and comic dialogue. The plot is apparently immaterial, its only excuse for existence being to give a certain order of sequence to the aforesaid songs, dances, and dialogues. That, indeed, is the only object for the playwright's introducing any plot at all, hence he does not much care whether it is logical or even within the bounds of probability. The play-goers, I think, care even less. They go to hear the songs, see the dances, laugh at the dialogues, and indulge in frivolous frivolities; what do they want with a plot, much less a moral? Chinese vaudeville takes the form of clever tumbling tricks which I think are much preferable to the sensuous, curious, and self-revealing dances one sees in the West.

Although musical comedy, or, more properly speaking, musical farce, is becoming more and more popular in both Europe and America it is also becoming proportionately more farcical; although in many theaters it is staged as often as the more serious drama, in some having exclusive dominion; and although theater managers find that these plays draw bigger crowds and fill their houses better than any other, in the large cities running for over a year, I cannot help regarding this feature of theatrical life as so much theatrical chaos. It lacks culture, and is sometimes both bizarre and neurotic. I do not object to patter, smart give and take, in which the comical angles of life are exposed, if it is brilliant; neither have I anything to say against light comedy in which the ridiculous side of things is portrayed. This sort of entertainment may help men who have spent a busy day, crowded with anxious moments, and weighted with serious responsibilities, but exhibitions which make men on their way home talk not of art, or of music, or of wit, but of "the little girl who wore a little black net" are distinctly to be condemned. Even the class who think it waste of time to think, and who go to the theater only to "laugh awfully", are not helped by this sort of entertainment. Such songs as the following, which I have culled from the `Play Pictorial', a monthly published in London, must in time pall the taste of even the shallow-minded.

"Can't you spare a glance? Have we got a chance? You've got a knowing pair of eyes; When it's 2 to 1 It isn't much fun," This is what she soon replies: "Oh, won't you buy a race-card, And take a tip from me? If you want to find a winner, It's easy as can be When the Cupid stakes are starting, Your heads are all awhirl, And my tip to-day Is a bit each way On the race-card girl."

Yet this, apparently, is the sort of thing which appeals to the modern American who wants amusement of the lightest kind, amusement which appeals to the eye and ear with the lightest possible tax on his already over-burdened brain. He certainly cannot complain that his wishes have not been faithfully fulfilled. It may be due to my ignorance of English, but the song I have just quoted seems to me silly, and I do not think any "ragtime music" could make it worth singing. Of course many songs and plays in the music halls are such as afford innocent mirth, but it has to be confessed that there are other things of a different type which it is not wise for respectable families to take the young to see. I would not like to say all I think of this feature of Western civilization, but I may quote an Englishman without giving offense. Writing in the `Metropolitan Magazine', Louis Sherwin says: "There is not a doubt that the so-called `high-brow dancer' has had a lot to do with the bare-legged epidemic that rages upon the comic-opera stage to-day. Nothing could be further removed from musical comedy than the art of such women as Isadora Duncan and Maude Allen. To inform Miss Duncan that she has been the means of making nudity popular in musical farce would beyond question incur the lady's very reasonable wrath. But it is none the less true. When the bare-legged classic dancer made her appearance in opera houses, and on concert platforms with symphony orchestras, it was the cue for every chorus girl with an ambition to undress in public. First of all we had a plague of Salomes. Then the musical comedy producers, following their usual custom of religiously avoiding anything original, began to send the pony ballets and soubrettes on the stages without their hosiery and with their knees clad in nothing but a coat of whitewash (sometimes they even forgot to put on the whitewash, and then the sight was horrible). The human form divine, with few exceptions, is a devilish spectacle unless it is properly made up. Some twenty years from now managers will discover what audiences found out months ago, that a chorus girl's bare leg is infinitely less beautiful than the same leg when duly disguised by petticoats and things."

Chapter 16. Conjuring and Circuses

After what I have said as to the position of the actor in China my readers will not be surprised at my saying that the performance of a conjuror should not be encouraged. What pleasure can there be in being tricked? It may be a great display of dexterity to turn water into wine, to seem to cut off a person's head, to appear to swallow swords, to escape from locked handcuffs, and to perform the various cabinet tricks, but cleverness does not alter the fact that after all it is only deception cunningly contrived and performed in such a way as to evade discovery. It appears right to many because it is called "legerdemain" and "conjuring" but in reality it is exactly the same thing as that by which the successful card-sharper strips his victims, viz., such quickness of hand that the eye is deceived. Should we encourage such artful devices? History tells many stories as to the way in which people have been kept in superstitious bondage by illusions and magic, and if it be now held to be right to deceive for fun how can it be held to have been wrong to deceive for religion? Those who made the people believe through practising deception doubtless believed the trick to be less harmful than unbelief. I contend, therefore, that people who go to see conjuring performances derive no good from them, but that, on the contrary, they are apt to be impressed with the idea that to practise deception is to show praiseworthy skill. It is strange how many people pay money to others to deceive them. More than ever before, people to-day actually enjoy being cheated. If the tricks were clumsily devised and easily detected there would be no attraction, but the cleverer and more puzzling the trick the more eagerly people flock to see it.

Christian preachers and moralists could do well to take up this matter and discourage people from frequenting the exhibitions of tricksters. There are doubtless many laws in nature yet undiscovered, and a few persons undoubtedly possess abnormal powers. This makes the cultivation of the love of trickery the more dangerous. It prevents the truth from being perceived. It enables charlatans to find dupes, and causes the real magician to be applauded as a legerdemainist. This is what the New Testament tells us happened in the case of Jesus Christ. His miracles failed to convince because the people had for a long time loved those who could deceive them cleverly. The people said to him, "Thou hast a devil," and others warned them after his death saying, "That deceiver said while he was yet alive `After three days I will rise again.'" When people are taught not only to marvel at the marvelous but to be indifferent to its falsehoods they lose the power of discrimination, and are apt to take the true for the false, the real for the unreal.

 

For an evening's healthy enjoyment I believe a circus is as good a place as can be found anywhere. The air there is not close and vitiated as in a theater; you can spend two or three hours comfortably without inhaling noxious atmospheres. It is interesting to note that the circus is perhaps the only form of ancient entertainment which has retained something of its pristine simplicity. To-day, as in the old Roman circuses, tiers of seats run round the course, which in the larger circuses is still in the form of an ellipse, with its vertical axis, where the horses and performers enter, cut away. But the modern world has nothing in this connection to compare with the Circus Maximus of Rome, which, according to Pliny, held a quarter of a million spectators. It is singular, however, that while the old Roman circuses were held in permanent buildings, modern circuses are mostly travelling exhibitions in temporary erections. In some respects the entertainment offered has degenerated with the change, for we have to-day nothing in the circus to correspond to the thrilling chariot races in which the old Romans delighted. I wonder that in these days of restless search for novelties some one does not re-introduce the Roman chariot race under the old conditions, and with a reproduction of the old surroundings. It would be as interesting and as exciting as, and certainly less dangerous than, polo played in automobiles, which I understand is one of the latest fads in the West. A modern horse-race, with its skill, daring and picturesqueness, is the only modern entertainment comparable to the gorgeous races of the Romans. The exhibition of skillful feats of horsemanship and acrobatic displays by juvenile actors, rope-dancing, high vaulting and other daring gymnastic feats seen in any of our present-day circuses are interesting, but not new. The Romans had many clever tight-rope walkers, and I do not think they used the long pole loaded at the ends to enable them to maintain their equilibrium, as do some later performers. Japanese tumblers are very popular and some of their tricks clever, but I think the Western public would find Chinese acrobats a pleasant diversion. With practice, it would seem as if when taken in hand during its supple years there is nothing that cannot be done with the human body. Sometimes it almost appears as if it were boneless, so well are people able by practice to make use of their limbs to accomplish feats which astonish ordinary persons whose limbs are less pliable.

The trapeze gives opportunity for the display of very clever exhibition, of strength and agility; at first sight the gymnast would appear to be flying from one cross-bar to the other, and when watching such flights I have asked myself: "If a person can do that, why cannot he fly?" Perhaps human beings will some day be seen flying about in the air like birds. It only requires an extension of the trapeze "stunt". Travelling in the air by means of airships or aeroplanes is tame sport in comparison with bird-like flights, whether with or without artificial wings.

There are many advantages in being able to travel in the air. One is a clear and pure atmosphere such as cannot be obtained in a railway car, or in a cabin on board a ship; another is the opportunity afforded of looking down on this earth, seeing it as in a panorama, with the people looking like ants. Such an experience must broaden the mental outlook of the privileged spectator, and enable him to guess how fragmentary and perverted must be our restricted view of things in general. There is, however, danger of using such opportunities for selfish and mischievous purposes. A wicked man might throw a bomb or do some other wicked nonsense just as some one else, who really sees things as they are and not as they seem to be, might employ his superior knowledge to benefit himself and injure his fellows; but the mention of the trapeze and its bird-like performers has diverted me from my theme. I suppose that a reference to the circus would be incomplete which overlooked the clowns, those poor survivals of a professional class of jesters who played what appears to have been a necessary part in society in ruder days, when amusements were less refined and less numerous. The Chinese have never felt the need of professional foolers, and I cannot say that I admire the circus clown, but the intelligence which careful training develops in the horse, the dog, etc., interests me a good deal. An instance of this came under my own observation during a recent visit to Shanghai of "Fillis' Circus". Mr. Fillis had a mare which for many years had acted the part of the horse of a highway robber. The robber, flying from his enemies, urges the animal beyond its strength, and the scene culminated with the dying horse being carried from the arena to the great grief of its master. When this entertainment was given in Shanghai this horse -- "Black Bess" -- fell sick. A tonic was administered in the shape of the lively tune which the band always played as she was about to enter the arena and play her part as the highwayman's mare. The animal made pitiable attempts to rise, and her inability to do so apparently suggested to the intelligent creature the dying scene she had so often played. She lay down and relaxed, prepared to die in reality. The attendants, ignorant of the manner in which the horse had let herself go, tried to lift her, but in her relaxed condition her bowels split -- Black Bess had acted her part for the last time.

Chapter 17. Sports

Perhaps in nothing do the Chinese differ from their Western friends in the matter of amusements more than in regard to sports. The Chinese would never think of assembling in thousands just to see a game played. We are not modernized enough to care to spend half a day watching others play. When we are tired of work we like to do our own playing. Our national game is the shuttlecock, which we toss from one to another over our shoulders, hitting the shuttlecock with the flat soles of the shoes we are wearing. Sometimes we hit with one part of the foot, sometimes with another, according to the rules of the game. This, like kite-flying, is a great amusement among men and boys. We have nothing corresponding to tennis and other Western ball games, nor, indeed, any game in which the opposite sexes join. Archery was a health-giving exercise of which modern ideas of war robbed us. The same baneful influence has caused the old-fashioned healthful gymnastic exercises with heavy weights to be discarded. I have seen young men on board ocean-going steamers throwing heavy bags of sand to one another as a pastime. This, though excellent practice, hardly equals our ancient athletic feats with the bow or the heavy weight. Western sports have been introduced into some mission and other schools in China, but I much doubt if they will ever be really popular among my people. They are too violent, and, from the oriental standpoint, lacking in dignity. Yet, when Chinese residing abroad do take up Western athletic sports they prove themselves the equals of all competitors, as witness their success in the Manila Olympiad, and the name the baseball players from the Hawaiian Islands Chinese University made for themselves when they visited America. Nevertheless, were the average Chinese told that many people buy the daily paper in the West simply to see the result of some game, and that a sporting journalism flourishes there, i.e., papers devoted entirely to sport, they would regard the statement as itself a pleasant sport. Personally, I think we might learn much from the West in regard to sports. They certainly increase the physical and mental faculties, and for this reason, if for no other, deserve to be warmly supported. China suffers because her youths have never been trained to team-work. We should be a more united people if as boys and young men we learned to take part in games which took the form of a contest, in which, while each contestant does his best for his own side, the winning or losing of the game is not considered so important as the pleasure of the exercise. I think a great deal of the manliness which I have admired in the West must be attributed to the natural love of healthy sport for sport's sake. Games honestly and fairly played inculcate the virtues of honor, candidness, and chivalry, of which America has produced many worthy specimens. When one side is defeated the winner does not exult over his defeated opponents but attributes his victory to an accident; I have seen the defeated crew in a boat race applauding their winning opponents. It is a noble example for the defeated contestants to give credit to and to applaud the winner, an example which I hope will be followed by my countrymen.



As an ardent believer in the natural, healthy and compassionate life I was interested to find in the Encyclopaedia Britannica how frequently vegetarians have been winners in athletic sports.* They won the Berlin to Dresden walking match, a distance of 125 miles, the Carwardine Cup (100 miles) and Dibble Shield (6 hours) cycling races (1901-02), the amateur championship of England in tennis (four successive years up to 1902) and racquets (1902), the cycling championship of India (three years), half-mile running championship of Scotland (1896), world's amateur cycle records for all times from four hours to thirteen hours (1902), 100 miles championship Yorkshire Road Club (1899, 1901), tennis gold medal (five times). I have not access to later statistics on this subject but I know that it is the reverse of truth to say, as Professor Gautier, of the Sarbonne, a Catholic foundation in Paris, recently said, that vegetarians "suffer from lack of energy and weakened will power." The above facts disprove it, and as against Prof. Gautier, I quote Dr. J. H. Kellogg, the eminent physician and Superintendent of Battle Creek Sanitarium in Michigan, U.S.A., who has been a strict vegetarian for many years and who, though over sixty years of age, is as strong and vigorous as a man of forty; he told me that he worked sixteen hours daily without the least fatigue. Mrs. Annie Besant, President of the Theosophical Society, is another example. I am credibly informed that she has been a vegetarian for at least thirty-five years and that it is doubtful if any flesh-eater who is sixty-five can equal her in energy. Whatever else vegetarians may lack they are not lacking in powers of endurance.

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*
   
    E. B., 9th ed., vol. 33, p. 649.
   
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It is needless for me to say that hunting, or, as it is called, "sport", is entirely opposed to my idea of the fitness of things. I do not see why it should not be as interesting to shoot at "clay pigeons" as to kill living birds; and why moving targets are not as suitable a recreation as running animals. "The pleasures of the chase" are no doubt fascinating, but when one remembers that these so-called pleasures are memories we have brought with us from the time when we were savages and hunted for the sake of food, no one can be proud of still possessing such tastes. To say that hunters to-day only kill to eat would be denied indignantly by every true sportsman. That the quarry is sometimes eaten afterward is but an incident in the game; the splendid outdoor exercise which the hunt provides can easily be found in other ways without inflicting the fear, distress, and pain which the hunted animals endure. It is a sad commentary on the stage at which humanity still is that even royalty, to whom we look for virtuous examples, seldom misses an opportunity to hunt. When a man has a strong hobby he is unable to see its evil side even though in other respects he may be humane and kind-hearted. Thus the sorry spectacle is presented of highly civilized and humane people displaying their courage by hunting and attacking wild animals, not only in their own native country but in foreign lands as well. Such personages are, I regret to have to add, not unknown in the United States.

The fact that hunting has been followed from time immemorial, that the ancient Egyptians, Assyrians, and Babylonians indulged in this pastime, does not make it any more suitable an occupation for us to-day. The good qualities of temper and patience which hunting demands are equally well developed by athletic sports. I understand that a good hunting establishment will cost as much as $10,000 (2000 Pounds) a year. Surely those who can afford so much on luxuries could find a more refined amusement in yachting and similar recreations. To sail a yacht successfully in half a gale of wind, is, I should imagine, more venturesome, more exciting, and a pastime requiring a manifestation of more of the qualities of daring, than shooting a frightened animal from the safe retreat of the saddle of a trusty horse; and not even the hunt of the wild beast can equal in true sportsmanship a contest with the wind and the waves, for it is only occasionally that a beast shows fight because he is wounded, and even then man is well protected by his gun; but whether yachting or swimming the sportsman's attitude of watchfulness is uninterrupted. I fancy it is convention and custom, rather than conviction of the superiority of the sport, that has given hunting its pre-eminence. It is on record that four thousand years ago the ancient emperors of China started periodically on hunting expeditions. They thus sought relief from the monotony of life in those days; in the days of the Stuarts, in England, royalty found pleasure in shows which were childish and even immoral. Of course in barbarous countries all savages used to hunt for food. For them hunting was an economic necessity, and it is no slander to say that the modern hunt is a relic of barbarism. It is, indeed, a matter of surprise to me that this cruel practice has not ceased, but still exists in this twentieth century. It goes without saying that hunting means killing the defenseless, inflicting misery and death on the helpless; even if it be admitted that there is some justification for killing a ferocious and dangerous animal, why should we take pleasure in hunting and killing the fox, the deer, the hare, the otter, and similar creatures? People who hunt boast of their bravery and fearlessness, and to show their intrepidity and excellent shooting they go to the wilderness and other countries to carry on their "sport". I admire their fearless courage but I am compelled to express my opinion that such actions are not consistent with those of a good-hearted humane gentleman.

Still less excuse is there for the practice of shooting. What right have we to wantonly kill these harmless and defenseless birds flying in the air? I once watched pigeon shooting at a famous watering place, the poor birds were allowed to fly from the trap-holes simply that they might be ruthlessly killed or maimed. That was wanton cruelty; to reprobate too strongly such revolting barbarity is almost impossible. I am glad to say that such cruel practices did not come under my observation during my residence in the States, and I hope that they are not American vices but are prohibited by law. No country, with the least claim to civilization, should allow such things, and our descendants will be astonished that people calling themselves civilized should have indulged in such wholesale and gratuitous atrocities. When people allow animals to be murdered -- for it is nothing but murder -- for the sake of sport, they ought not to be surprised that men are murdered by criminals for reasons which seem to them good and sufficient. An animal has as much right to its life as man has to his. Both may be called upon to sacrifice life for the sake of some greater good to a greater number, but by what manner of reasoning can killing for killing's sake be justified? Does the superior cunning and intellect of man warrant his taking life for fun? Then, should a race superior to humanity ever appear on the earth, man would have no just cause of complaint if he were killed off for its amusement. There formerly existed in India a "well-organized confederacy of professional assassins" called Thugs, who worshipped the goddess Kali with human lives. They murdered according to "rigidly prescribed forms" and for religious reasons. The English, when they came into power in India, naturally took vigorous measures to stamp out Thuggeeism; but from a higher point of view than our own little selves, is there after all so much difference between the ordinary sportsman and the fanatic Thuggee? If there be, the balance is rather in favor of the latter, for the Thug at least had the sanction of religion, while the hunter has nothing to excuse his cruelty beyond the lust of killing. I do not understand why the humane societies, such as "The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals", are so supine in regard to these practices. The Chinese are frequently accused of being cruel to animals, but I think that those who are living in glass houses should not throw stones.

In this connection I would remark that birds are shot not only for pleasure and for their flesh, but in some cases for their plumage, and women who wear hats adorned with birds' feathers, do, though indirectly, encourage the slaughter of the innocent. Once a Chinese was arrested by the police in Hongkong for cruelty to a rat. It appeared that the rat had committed great havoc in his household, stealing and damaging various articles of food; when at last it was caught the man nailed its feet to a board, as a warning to other rats. For this he was brought before the English Magistrate, who imposed a penalty of ten dollars. He was astonished, and pleaded that the rat deserved death, on account of the serious havoc committed in his house. The Magistrate told him that he ought to have instantly killed the rat, and not to have tortured it. The amazed offender paid his fine, but murmured that he did not see the justice of the British Court in not allowing him to punish the rat as he chose, while foreigners in China were allowed the privilege of shooting innocent birds without molestation. I must confess, people are not always consistent. The Peace Societies should take up this matter, for hunting is an imitation of war and an apprenticeship to it. It certainly can find no justification in any of the great world religions, and not even the British, or the Germans, who idolize soldiers, would immortalize a man simply because he was a hunter. From whatever point the subject be viewed it seems undeniable that hunting is only a survival of savagery.