The traditional civilization of China had become unprogressive, and had ceased to produce much of value in the way of art and literature.  This was not due, I think, to any decadence in the race, but merely to lack of new material.  The influx of Western knowledge provides just the stimulus that was needed.  Chinese students are able and extraordinarily keen.  Higher education suffers from lack of funds and absence of libraries, but does not suffer from any lack of the finest human material.  Although Chinese civilization has hitherto been deficient in science, it never contained anything hostile to science, and therefore the spread of scientific knowledge encounters no such obstacles as the Church put in its way in Europe.  I have no doubt that if the Chinese could get a stable government and sufficient funds, they would, within the next thirty years, begin to produce remarkable work in science.  It is quite likely that they might outstrip us, because they come with fresh zest and with all the ardour of a renaissance.  In fact, the enthusiasm for learning in Young China reminds one constantly of the renaissance spirit in fifteenth-century Italy.

It is very remarkable, as distinguishing the Chinese from the Japanese, that the things they wish to learn from us are not those that bring wealth or military strength, but rather those that have either an ethical and social value, or a purely intellectual interest.  They are not by any means uncritical of our civilization.  Some of them told me that they were less critical before 1914, but that the war made them think there must be imperfections in the Western manner of life.  The habit of looking to the West for wisdom was, however, very strong, and some of the younger ones thought that Bolshevism could give what they were looking for.  That hope also must be suffering disappointment, and before long they will realize that they must work out their own salvation by means of a new synthesis.  The Japanese adopted our faults and kept their own, but it is possible to hope that the Chinese will make the opposite selection, keeping their own merits and adopting ours.

The distinctive merit of our civilization, I should say, is the scientific method; the distinctive merit of the Chinese is a just conception of the ends of life.  It is these two that one must hope to see gradually uniting.

Lao-Tze describes the operation of Tao as “production without possession, action without self-assertion, development without domination.”  I think one could derive from these words a conception of the ends of life as reflective Chinese see them, and it must be admitted that they are very different from the ends which most white men set before themselves.  Possession, self-assertion, domination, are eagerly sought, both nationally and individually.  They have been erected into a philosophy by Nietzsche, and Nietzsche’s disciples are not confined to Germany.