inexorable logic, state his case thus:  “You, Europeans and Americans, insist on my receiving and protecting your missionaries.  I do not want them.  I have, in Confucianism, a system of philosophy, which, whatever you may think of it, suits all my spiritual requirements, and which has been sufficient to hold Chinese society together for long centuries past.  Nevertheless, I bow to your wishes.  But then surely you ought in justice to allow free entry into your dominions to my carpenters and bricklayers, of whom I have a large surplus, of which I should be glad to be rid.  Is not your boasted philanthropy somewhat vicarious, and does not your public morality savour in some degree of mere opportunist cant?”

To all of which, Europeans and Americans can only reply that the instinct of self-preservation, which is strong within them, points clearly to the absolute necessity of excluding the Chinese carpenters and bricklayers; and, further, as regards the missionaries, that there can be but one answer, and that in a Christian sense, to the question asked by jesting Pilate.  In effect they say that circumstances alter cases, and that might is right—­a plea which may perhaps suffice to salve the conscience of an opportunist politician, but ought to appeal less forcibly to a stern moralist.

Foreign emigration, even if it were possible, would, however, be a mere palliative.  A more thorough and effective remedy would be to facilitate the dispersion of the population in the congested districts over those wide tracts of China itself which are suffering in a less degree from congestion.  I conceive that the execution of a policy of this nature would not be altogether impossible.  It could be carried into effect by improving the means of locomotion, possibly by the construction of irrigation works on a large scale, and by developing the resources of the country, which are admittedly very great.  But there is one condition which is essential to the execution of this programme, and that is that the financial administration of the country should be sufficiently honest to inspire the confidence of those European investors who alone can provide the necessary capital.  Now, according to Mr. Bland, this fundamental quality of honesty is not to be found throughout the length and breadth of China, whether in the ranks of the old Mandarins or in those of the young Republicans.

The essential virtue of personal integrity [he says], the capacity to handle public funds with common honesty, has been conspicuously lacking in Young China.  The leopard has not changed his spots; the sons and brothers of the classical Mandarin remain, in spite of Western learning, Mandarins by instinct and in practice.

A very close observer of Eastern affairs—­Mr. Stanley Lane-Poole—­has said that the East has an extraordinary facility for assimilating all the worst features of any new civilisation with which it is brought in contact.  This is what has happened in India, in Turkey, in Egypt, and in Persia.  Even in Japan it has yet to be seen whether the old national virtues will survive prolonged contact with the West.  Hear now what Mr. Bland has to say of China: