It must not be supposed that an able Chinaman, when he masters our culture, becomes purely imitative.  This may happen among the second-rate Chinese, especially when they turn Christians, but it does not happen among the best.  They remain Chinese, critical of European civilization even when they have assimilated it.  They retain a certain crystal candour and a touching belief in the efficacy of moral forces; the industrial revolution has not yet affected their mental processes.  When they become persuaded of the importance of some opinion, they try to spread it by setting forth the reasons in its favour; they do not hire the front pages of newspapers for advertising, or put up on hoardings along the railways “So-and-so’s opinion is the best.”  In all this they differ greatly from more advanced nations, and particularly from America; it never occurs to them to treat opinions as if they were soaps.  And they have no admiration for ruthlessness, or love of bustling activity without regard to its purpose.  Having thrown over the prejudices in which they were brought up, they have not taken on a new set, but have remained genuinely free in their thoughts, able to consider any proposition honestly on its merits.

The younger men, however, have something more than the first generation of modern intellectuals.  Having had less of a struggle, they have retained more energy and self-confidence.  The candour and honesty of the pioneers survive, with more determination to be socially effective.  This may be merely the natural character of youth, but I think it is more than that.  Young men under thirty have often come in contact with Western ideas at a sufficiently early age to have assimilated them without a great struggle, so that they can acquire knowledge without being torn by spiritual conflicts.  And they have been able to learn Western knowledge from Chinese teachers to begin with, which has made the process less difficult.  Even the youngest students, of course, still have reactionary families, but they find less difficulty than their predecessors in resisting the claims of the family, and in realizing practically, not only theoretically, that the traditional Chinese reverence for the old may well be carried too far.  In these young men I see the hope of China.  When a little experience has taught them practical wisdom, I believe they will be able to lead Chinese opinion in the directions in which it ought to move.

There is one traditional Chinese belief which dies very hard, and that is the belief that correct ethical sentiments are more important then detailed scientific knowledge.  This view is, of course, derived from the Confucian tradition, and is more or less true in a pre-industrial society.  It would have been upheld by Rousseau or Dr. Johnson, and broadly speaking by everybody before the Benthamites.  We, in the West, have now swung to the opposite extreme:  we tend to think that technical efficiency is everything