When China purchased the Shanghai-Woosung railway in 1876, she was thought to be going ahead.  What did we think when she tore up the track and dumped it in the river?  An aeon seems to have passed since that day of darkness.

The advent of railways has been slow in comparison with the telegraph.  The provinces are covered with wires.  Governors and captains consult with each other by wire, in preference to a tardy exchange of written correspondence.  The people, too, appreciate the advantage of communicating by a flash with distant members of their families, and of settling questions of business at remote places without stirring from their own doors.  To have their thunder god bottled up and brought down to be their courier was to them the wonder of wonders; yet they have now become so accustomed to this startling innovation, that they cease to marvel.

The wireless telegraph is also at work—­a little manual, translated by a native Christian, tells people how to use it.

Over forty years ago, when I exhibited the Morse system to the astonished dignitaries of Peking, those old men, though heads of departments, chuckled like children when, touching a button, they heard a bell ring; or when wrapping a wire round their bodies, they saw the lightning leap from point to point.  “It’s wonderful,” they exclaimed, “but we can’t use it in [Page 205] our country.  The people would steal the wires.”  Electric bells are now common appliances in the houses of Chinese who live in foreign settlements.  Electric trolleys are soon to be running at Shanghai and Tientsin.  Telephones, both private and public, are a convenience much appreciated.  Accustomed as the Chinese are to the instantaneous transmission of thought and speech, they have yet to see the telodyne—­electricity as a transmitter of force.  But will they not see it when the trolleys run?  The advent of electric power will mark an epoch.

China’s weakness is not due wholly to backwardness in the arts and sciences.  It is to be equally ascribed to defective connection of parts and to a lack of communication between places.  Hence a sense of solidarity is wanting, and instead there is a predominance of local over national interests.  For this disease the remedy is forthcoming—­rail and wire are rapidly welding the disjointed members of the Empire into a solid unity.  The post office contributes to the same result.

A postal system China has long possessed:  mounted couriers for official despatches, and foot messengers for private parties, the Government providing the former, and merchant companies the latter.  The modernised post office, now operating in every province, provides for both.  To most of the large towns the mails are carried by steamboat or railroad—­a marvellous gain in time, compared with horse or foot.  The old method was slow and uncertain; the new is safe and expeditious.

That the people appreciate the change is shown by [Page 206] the following figures:  In 1904 stamps to the amount of $400,000 (Mexican) were sold; in 1905 the sale rose to $600,000—­an advance of 50 per cent. in one year.  What may we not expect when the women learn to read, and when education becomes more general among men?