The Revolution of 1911 had been entirely unexpected in Japan.  Whilst large outbreaks had been certainly counted on since the Chinese Revolutionary party had for years used Japan as an asylum and a base of operations, never had it been anticipated that the fall of an ancient Dynasty could be so easily encompassed.  Consequently, the abdication of the Manchus as the result of intrigues rather than of warfare was looked upon as little short of a catastrophe because it hopelessly complicated the outlook, broke the pattern which had been so carefully woven for so many years, and interjected harsh elements which could not be assigned an orderly place.  Not only was a well-articulated State-system suddenly consigned to the flames, but the ruin threatened to be so general that the balance of power throughout the Far East would be twisted out of shape.  Japanese statesmen had desired a weak China, a China which would ultimately turn to them for assistance because they were a kindred race, but not a China that looked to the French Revolution for its inspiration.  To a people as slow to adjust themselves to violent surprises as are the Japanese, there was an air of desperation about the whole business which greatly alarmed them, and made them determined at the earliest possible moment to throw every ounce of their weight in the direction which would best serve them by bringing matters back to their original starting-point.  For this reason they were not only prepared in theory in 1911 to lend armed assistance to the Manchus but would have speedily done so had not England strongly dissented from such a course of action when she was privately sounded about the matter.  Even to-day, when a temporary adjustment of Japanese policy has been successfully arranged, it is of the highest importance for political students to remember that the dynastic influences in Tokio have never departed from the view that the legitimate sovereignty of China remains vested in the Manchu House and that everything that has taken place since 1911 is irregular and unconstitutional.

For the time being, however, two dissimilar circumstances demanded caution:  first, the enthusiasm which the Japanese democracy, fed by a highly excited press, exhibited towards the Young China which had been so largely grounded in the Tokio schools and which had carried out the Revolution:  secondly—­and far more important—­the deep, abiding and ineradicable animosity which Japanese of all classes felt for the man who had come out of the contest head and shoulders above everybody else—­Yuan Shih-kai.  These two remarkable features ended by completely thrusting into the background during the period 1911-1914 every other element in Japanese statesmanship; and of the two the second must be counted the decisive one.  Dating back to Korea, when Yuan Shih-kai’s extraordinary diplomatic talents constantly allowed him to worst his Japanese rivals and to make Chinese counsels supreme at the Korean Court up to the very moment when the first shots of