East of the barrier; or, Side lights on the Manchuria mission

Index

Bibliography

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2 37

ILLUSTRATIONS

Frontispiece

42 46

View of Chien Shan (Thousand Peaks), with Buddhist Temple .

A Chinese Salutation.

A Barber at Work The Author and His Teacher Language Chart

The First Theological Licentiates, with Professors Ross and Fulton The Present Theological Students Setting out on a Journey Interior of Inn Chinese Official and His Son Chinese Girls’ School

A Buddhist Priest at Prayer J The old Faith and The Moukden Church the Ne"a

Mission Map of Manchuria showing Route

of the Trans-Siberian Railway . End of Book

Chapter I

The chief geographical features in Manchuria are its excellent waterways, its splendid forests, and its fertile soil. Those colonists who have settled in its southern provinces fully realise its value, and have turned out a hard-working and, in addition, a hardy and progressive race. — Clive Bigham, C.M.G.

CHAPTER I

MANCHURIA IN MINIATURE HE name Manchuria is unknown to the

1 Chinese. They describe the country vaguely as the “ three Eastern provinces ” ; or when referring more particularly to the southern province, they speak simply of “ East of the Barrier ” — -a name derived from the Great Wall which stretches for twelve hundred and fifty miles, from the seaboard on the east to the plains of Mongolia on the west, and divides the country from the eighteen provinces, or what is known as China proper. Manchuria is, however, an integral part of the Chinese Empire. The inhabitants speak the same language, have the same customs, and are governed by the same laws, as the people all over the Empire. As the cradle of the Manchu dynasty there are naturally more of that race in Manchuria (especially in the north) than elsewhere, but not so many as is popularly supposed. A recent authority 1 says, “ of the 17,000,000 inhabitants of the three provinces 1 Manchuria. Alex. Hosie, M.A., F.R.G.S.

of Manchuria probably not more than ten per cent, are Manchus.” The bulk of the population is made up partly of the “ descendants of Chinese who had already settled in Southern Manchuria dtfring the Ming dynasty,” but more especially of immigrants that pass yearly into the country in a constant stream from the overflow population of the more crowded south. As soon as the port opens in early spring, thousands of immigrants cover the roads. Most of them are men in middle life. But it is no uncommon sight to witness whole families, carrying bag and baggage on their Shantung barrows, pushing on to the north and east, where they cut down the virgin forest, and obtain small land-holdings from the Government, rent-free for the first four years. The great majority build for themselves homes, and settle down in the country of their adoption either as farmers or merchants, and never return permanently to their ancestral haunts. On the whole, the dwellers in these northern provinces are less conservative and less anti-foreign than their brethren in the south, due probably to the fact that they have left their old moorings and entered upon a freer life. They are consequently more progressive, more hardy, and more susceptible to western influences.

Each of the three provinces is administered by a Governor- General or Viceroy, who must be a Manchu, assisted by a large staff of officials of varying rank, both Manchu and Chinese. The names of the three provinces are: (1) Feng Tien or Hsing-Ching in the south; (2) Kirin in the centre; and (3) Heilung-chiang in the north. The country covers a geographical area of some 300,000 square miles. The most northerly province is much the largest, but the most sparsely populated ; while the southern province is not only the most populous, but the best cultivated. It is for the most part flat, except towards the east, and extremely fertile. The country produces millet, wheat, rice, beans, opium, tobacco, vegetables, and fruits of all kinds. It is rich in undeveloped mineral wealth. Gold, silver, copper, lead, iron, coal, asbestos, soda, are to be found in greater or less abundance. Among the principal exports are immense quantities of bean-cake and bean-oil, with gold, silver, silks, furs, skins, and pigs’ bristles. The total export trade for 1899 was valued at £3,7 8 3,9 14 sterling.

The climate is good. During the months of July and August the heat is intense, — from 90° to ioo° in the shade, — and is particularly trying, owing to the heavy rains which fall at this season of the year. The winter is long and severe — the barometer falling sometimes to 34° below zero. But as the atmosphere is dry, and the sun warm, the winter cold is not so disagreeable as the lowness of the temperature would seem to indicate. The transition from heat to cold, and vice versa , is very rapid. Spring and autumn do not extend beyond a month, or six weeks at the most. The long warm summer with its refreshing rains, enables the farmers to reap two or three crops ; while the long winter with its hard, smooth roads, enables them to cart their produce to the port, or else to the riverside, whence it is conveyed by junks in the spring.

Prior to the Russian occupation of Port Arthur and Ta-lien-wan (Dalny) in 1898, Newchwang (Yingkow) was the only gateway to these northern provinces. Newchwang was made a treaty-port in i860. It has a native population of about 60,000, and a large foreign settlement, chiefly British, though the Russians have now a growing colony three miles higher up the river. Steamships of all nationalities and a perfect forest of Chinese junks are constantly to be seen in the river Liao, at the mouth of which Newchwang stands. The bulk of the trade is in the hands of the British, Japanese, and Americans. The trade with Japan alone has trebled itself since the war with China in 1895. The total imports for 1899 were valued at £5,633,435 sterling.

Proceeding in a north - easterly direction from Newchwang, the first city of any importance that we touch is Haicheng (the city by the sea). Though it is forty miles from the seaboard, it would appear from the name that it was not always so. It is on record that Tang Wang came to Haicheng in 1700. The city was then in the hands of the Koreans. He landed his troops at Hsaio-ma-tow (small ferry), the name of a village five miles from Haicheng. The attack was evidently made from a hill that still bears the name of the conqueror — Tang Wang Shan. The Koreans were forced to retire, and from that time the city has been in the hands of the Chinese. On the rising ground within the city, two sides of a Korean wall, two Korean gateways, and an old well, within what must have been the Korean fortress, are still extant. A magnificent Confucian temple now crowns this hill.

The population of Haicheng is estimated at 20,000. It is a third-grade (Hsien) city. It was captured by the Japanese in December

1 894, and was handed back to the Chinese upon their evacuation of Liaotung in December

1895. The impression left upon the Chinese mind by the Japanese was so favourable that it is the least anti-foreign city in Manchuria to-day. In the eastern quarter of the city there are about one thousand Mahommedan families. They have a school for the education of their boys, and a pretty mosque, where they practise unmolested the rites of their faith. In one of the Buddhist temples (San Hsiao Si) is to be found what is probably the largest idol in the country. It is an immense image of Buddha, standing thirty feet high. The head alone measures six feet. The priest of this temple became a convert to Christianity, and handed over the magnificent buildings to the Christian Church. It was afterwards found, however, that he had gone beyond his rights, and the matter was quietly dropped.

Twenty miles north of Haicheng we skirt one of the most picturesque spots in Manchuria — the “ Thousand Peaks ” (Chien Shan), so called from the innumerable jagged spurs on the mountain range that cut the sky - line. Flowers, trees, and shrubs luxuriate among the hills in great profusion. There are wolves, foxes, and snakes in plenty, and at least one tiger is believed by the natives to have his lair in the vicinity. Many of the hills are crowned by Buddhist and Taoist temples. In these religious retreats those who have renounced the world lead a recluse life. The temple of the “ Dragon Spring ” is the finest. Most of them own sufficient land for the support of the priests, which they let out to the natives for cultivation. The priests are extremely illiterate, and often positively immoral.

Continuing our journey northwards for another forty miles, the next place of importance is Liaoyang — the ancient capital of Korea. It is a second-grade (Chow) city, and much larger than Haicheng. While still some distance from the city, the attention of the traveller is arrested by a lofty white tower, one of the finest specimens of a number of such towers throughout Manchuria. They are probably Lama structures of the sixteenth century. Ruskin tells us that the function of the tower is threefold: (1) to withstand war, (2) to look forth for tidings, and (3) to point to Heaven. The white tower of Liaoyang fulfils the last of these. The circles that entwine it are probably a symbolical representation of the cycles through which the soul passes in its ascent to Nirvana. This tower now marks the site of the new Russian railway station, around which quite a large Russian colony has sprung up within the last three years. The population of Liaoyang is about 150,000. The high wall with which it is enclosed is in excellent preservation, and the numerous orchards and market gardens within the enclosure testify to unlimited scope for expansion. It is probably the best preserved city in Manchuria to-day. It was practically saved from destruction by the timely intervention of Dr. Westwater, who was with the Russian army during the campaign of 1900.

Some twenty miles north-east of Liaoyang, at Yentai, among the low hills that run parallel with the main road, the Russians are now carrying on extensive mining operations. Coal is found in great abundance. From this point the hills gradually recede eastwards, and the country is flat and uninteresting, unless one finds interest in the broad and fertile acres that everywhere make up the landscape.

Moukden, the capital of the province, is forty miles from Liaoyang. As we approach it we cross the Hun River, the largest tributary of the Liao. In summer the junks are able to come up within a few miles of the city. Moukden has a population of some 300,000. High stone walls enclose the city proper, within which are to be found the various Government offices and the principal business houses. The residential parts of the city are in the extensive suburbs that have grown up on all sides. During the Boxer outbreak Moukden suffered severely. The best shops were pillaged and some of the finest streets were burned to ashes.

Just within the east gate is the famous “ Fox ” temple. It is much frequented by people who pray to the canonised Fox — the mythical ancestor of all the foxes. He is represented now as a bland old gentleman with long beard and cunning cast of eye. The “ Fox ” temple is a kind of Chinese Lourdes. Miracles of healing are said to take place, and certainly many tablets adorn the walls — the votive offerings of those devotees who profess to have received healing at his shrine.

The Confucian Temple of Literature in the east suburb is one of the prettiest buildings in the city. The Chinese say that the god of literature resides in the middle star of the plough. After graduation, students, gorgeously dressed, march in procession with the magistrate at their head, and solemnly prostrate themselves before the tablet of Confucius.

On the north side of the city is the grave of Wen Hsiang — -a quiet resting-place encircled by a pretty pine wood. Originally a “ table boy,” he was educated by his master, whose daughter he subsequently married. He was president of several of the six Boards, and a member of the Tsung li Yamen. In 1861 he was Secretary of State. He died in 1876. It is a curious fact that the most beautiful spots in China are dedicated to the dead. A few miles farther north, within a beautifully wooded enclosure, are the tombs of the founders of the Manchu dynasty. A number of Manchu retainers guard the grounds. Until quite recently no foreigner was allowed to enter the sacred precincts. Inside are beautiful avenues of elm trees, on either hand stone animals, and at intervals temples where the worshippers of the dead perform their ceremonies. The tomb itself is on the west side, covered by a huge mound, on the pinnacle of which grows the spirit tree. The Russian railway passes ten miles west of the city of Moukden, in deference to the prejudices of the Chinese, who could not tolerate anything so barbarian as a railway in the near neighbourhood of their mighty dead.

To the north of Moukden the country is more hilly. Passing through Yilu, a busy little market-town, the next place of any importance is Tiehling (“the city of the Iron Hill”) situated at the junction of the Liao and Tsai Rivers. It is one of the most flourishing towns in the province, and has a great commercial future before it. It focuses the trade of the country to the east, and has every facility for transport, both by road and by river. The name would seem to indicate that iron is to be found in the vicinity.

A run of twenty-five miles over undulating territory brings us to Kaiyuan, an important market-town of some 25,000 inhabitants, situated on the banks of the Ching River and at the mouth of the valley of the same name. It is the business centre of an immense agricultural region lying chiefly to the east. Still farther north is the large town of Mai-mai-kai (Merchant Street). Each of the places mentioned — Haicheng, Liaoyang, Moukden, Yilu, Tiehling, Kaiyuan, and Mai-mai-kai — is an important missionary centre of the United Free Church, from which there flows a continual stream of influence upon the neighbourhoods around. Important however, as these towns and cities are, Manchuria is after all a country of villages. The people are a race of farmers, and no matter in what direction we turn, we pass a village at every two or three miles’ interval.

The three so-called religions of China all flourish on Manchurian soil. These are: (i) Confucianism ; the cult more particularly of the literary and governing classes. (2) Taoism; which represents the reaction in Chinese religious thought against the hard materialism of Confucius. Its founder was Lao Tzu, a contemporary of Confucius. His mystical philosophy has not deeply influenced the nation, though it has given the Christian Church some of its choicest and most spiritual converts. (3) Buddhism ; the religion of the bulk of the peasantry. It is not uncommon, however, to find people whose religious experience is coloured by all three. Confucianism has no priesthood, so that priests are either Buddhist or Taoist, easily distinguishable from the laity by their low-necked dress, or shaven head. The religious indifference of the people is frequently illustrated by their readiness to call in either to say prayers or conduct funeral ceremonies.

The traveller in Manchuria cannot fail to notice the very large number of wayside shrines. On every hillside, under village trees, and at the parting of the ways, these evidences of a primitive nature - worship meet the eye. They are the shrines of the god of the hills. He dates back to the time when the hills were forest - clad. He is always represented as a young man with an axe over his shoulder. He is the clearer of the forest ; he knows the secrets of the forest. The people of Korea pray to him to this hour. On his left should sit the god of nervous diseases ; on his right the god of the ground, who is prayed to at death and takes charge of the spirit after death. These wayside shrines are everywhere over the country, testifying to the tenacity of a nature-worship, which is older than any of the religious systems, and as vigorous to-day as any of them.

William C. Burns was the pioneer missionary to Manchuria. Though he lived for only seven months in Newchwang, his death attracted attention to this unevangelised part of the world. “ God buries His workmen, but carries on His work.” Since Burns’ death in 1868 vast changes have been wrought in the religious condition of the people of Manchuria. Missionaries have established themselves all over the interior, and a native Christian church of twenty thousand members testifies to the success of their labours. The three Protestant societies at work are: (1) The Mission of the Irish

Presbyterian Church , since 1869, working to the west of the river Liao, at Newchwang, Chin-chow, Kuang-ning, Moukden, Hsin-min-tun, Fa-ku-men, and in the north at Kuan- Cheng-Tzu, Kirin, and Ku-yii-Shu. (2) The Mission of the United Free Church of Scotland , since 1872, working on the east of the Liao and towards Korea, also in the north at Ashiho. These two missions united in 1890, and though still controlled by separate committees at home, are one before the eyes of the native church. (3) The Danish Lutheran Mission , since 1895, working on the southern seaboard ; but they are not numerous. In addition to these societies, there is (4) The Mission of the Roman Catholics , since 1838. They are probably as numerous as the Protestant Missions. They observe no territorial limitations, but “ count the whole world their parish.”

The projection of a branch of the great Trans-Siberian Railway through Manchuria is bound to exercise a potent influence over the future development of the country. The line, which is now completed, runs from Port Arthur in the south, in a north-easterly direction, right through the plain to Harbin, a distance of six hundred miles. At Harbin it meets the junction line from Vladivostock, a distance of four hundred miles. There is also a loop line from Newchwang, which joins the line from Port

Arthur at Ta shih chiao (great stone bridge), a distance of twenty miles. Already the railway has begun to tap much of the traffic formerly carried on by road and by river. “ As a civilising power it will do much to develop this vast and fertile portion of China, exploiting its resources and educating its people. Comprehensive in its inception, patient and arduous in its execution, its completion must assuredly give a mighty impetus to the moral and material evolution of Oriental Asia ; and no one, however Russophobe, can honestly hesitate to appreciate and sympathise with such a magnificent and such a humanising enterprise.” 1

Upon the outbreak of the “ Boxer ” hostilities the Russian authorities formally took possession of Newchwang, and it is now temporarily under their administration. Of the Russian action, Mr. Fulford, the British Consul at the time, writes : “ On July 28th, 1900, the Russian Consul, hearing a rumour that a Russian captive was held in the native city, wrote to the Taotai that he must be given up immediately, or if anything happened to him the city would be bombarded. The rumour was false, but the threat gave rise to great alarm. On August 3rd the Russian Consul informed the Taotai that next day, being a Russian festival, a salute of thirty-one guns would be fired by the 1 A Year in China. Clive Bigham, C.M.G.

Russian gunboat lying in the river off the town. The Taotai protested that this would terrify the townspeople, and he feared that, under the impression that they were being attacked, the anti-foreign party might attempt some violence against the European quarter. Next morning early — August 4 th — the lawless element of the town evidently got the upper hand, and advanced against the barricade guarding our end of the city. One of the barricades was efficiently defended by the volunteers of the foreign community. The Russian forces then took possession of the town, and a Russian civil administration was provisionally established. The foreign community remained under assurances from the Russian authorities of the enjoyment of their treaty privileges.”

During the following months the Russian army invaded the interior, and took possession of all the cities along the Imperial route. Now that order has been restored, the administration has been handed back to the Chinese officials, although Russian influence is still dominant, and likely to remain so.

CHAPTER II A people of much intelligence Giles

and some wisdom. — Dr.

CHAPTER II

PEEPS AT THE PEOPLE HE most fascinating part of a missionary’s i work is that which brings him into contact with the life of the people. No man in China is more happily circumstanced than he for observing the peculiar workings of the native mind. Though the rigid etiquette of the country precludes him from engaging in pastoral work, in the sense in which we understand it at home, — house-to-house visitation, — still he has ample opportunity, in the troops of visitors who throng his study from day to day, for observing those more prominent qualities which mark off the Chinese race from the rest of mankind. Not unnaturally he is prepared to think well of the people whose good he seeks. “ Love thinketh no evil.” He regards them with a sympathetic, kindly eye, and while not altogether blind to their weaknesses, is prepared to do justice to their many admirable qualities. By a constant effort of intellectual detachment he endeavours to see life from their point of view, and by the growing

Saxon has no doubt many virtues, and among them is to be found a very large percentage of fortiter in re , but a very small percentage of suaviter in modo. When, therefore, we come to the Orient, and find the vast population of the immense Asiatic continent so greatly our superiors in the art of lubricating the friction which is sur$ to arise in the intercourse of man with man, we are filled with that admiration which is the tribute of those who cannot do a thing to those who can do it easily and well. The most bigoted critic of the Chinese is forced to admit that they have brought the practice of politeness to a pitch of perfection which is not only unknown in Western lands, but previous to experience is un thought of and almost unimaginable.”

To some extent, of course, their admirable etiquette has the defects of its qualities. One finds this in the tendency to exaggeration and flattery so common in everyday speech. Their horror of directness, their determination not to offend, has given rise to a wide vocabulary of circumlocutionary phrases that are sometimes positively untrue. But to tell a lie, rather than be offensive, would seem to be the obvious duty of every Chinaman. They address each other continually as the " Honourable Mr. So-and-so.” An ugly fact is invariably alluded to under cover of some veiled periphrasis. They never speak of “death” directly, but say that the deceased is “ not in,” that he has “ greeted the age,” “ ascended to the sky,” or returned to the “ Heavenly Hall.”

This “ talent for indirection,” as it has been called, is carried even further than circumlocutionary phraseology. When the business in hand is of extreme delicacy, such as borrowing money, or negotiating a betrothal, it necessitates the calling in of a middle-man to act as “ go-between.” Should your “ boy ” wish an advance in his wages, it is probable that he will not come in person to tell you so. He enlists the services of your “ teacher,” and even your “ teacher ” goes about his task in a truly circuitous fashion. He watches his opportunity. Some morning he finds you in an unusually good mood, then he naively asks you if you are aware that millet (the staple food of the peasantry) has risen in price, adding that, of course, fuel has also risen so much. By this time you are aware that somebody’s wages are in question, but whose? Not his own, for he would not talk in this fashion about himself. “ There’s So-and-so,” he continues, indicating with a nod in the direction of the kitchen ; he has so many “ mouths ” to feed. Then heaving a sigh, he remarks, as he takes himself out of the room, “ I wonder how some people live.” A certain evangelist who wished a rise in his salary, wrote me letters for some months from his country station. He drew a terrible picture of the famine prices he was paying for the bare necessaries of life ; but though he turned up to see me at the end of each month and received his salary, no allusion was ever made to the correspondence by either of us. After a few months the letters ceased. But he knew that if he could do better I was prepared to let him go elsewhere. From this it will be seen that words are not always the index of a Chinaman’s real thoughts. He often purposely uses language to veil his thought, but he expects you to be shrewd enough to divine his meaning. He regards the straight, brusque frankness of the foreigner as a weakness, not as a virtue. And every Chinaman knows that this is the most vulnerable point in the foreigner’s coat-of-mail.

After one has lived amongst the people for awhile, one begins, of course, to get glimpses beneath the surface, and to see how much of their etiquette is purely superficial. Every Chinese wears a mask, which he calls his “ face,” but it would be the height of impropriety to pull it aside and look at the real man. High officials have been known to chose death rather than “ lose face.” It is everything to them. It embraces self-respect, honour, amour proprey nay, even conscience itself. They speak of “ losing one’s face ” ; of “ keeping one’s face ” ; of “ giving a person face ” ; of “ taking away a person’s face ” ; or, when reparation cannot be made, they say “ his face cannot come down.”

To accuse a person of a fault in the presence of others is to take his face away. If he is your servant, he cannot, of course, remain in your service, and will probably acquaint you next day with the fact that he has had a message from home informing him of his mother’s illness or death, and is profoundly sorry to tell you that he must leave your honourable service for an indefinite period. If you wish to give “face” to one you have insulted, the common custom is to invite him to a feast. In the presence of mutual friends reparation is made, and all enmity ceases. To offer a person a handsome present is to give him “ great face.” But the acceptance of a gift generally entails on the receiver the return of something of equal value. Missionaries have sometimes to pay dearly for their intimacy with the official classes, because they are expected to make a return in the shape of some foreign article. It is said of the early Jesuit Fathers that they propagated the gospel in Pekin by the liberal distribution of European clocks. And, on one occasion, after persecution had driven them from the capital, they were one day summarily recalled to the court, because all the clocks in the palace had stopped and no one knew how to set them a-going.

The Chinese are never in a hurry, and yet they are a most industrious people. To toil so hard and yet remain so poor illustrates the irony of their history. From dawn to sunset they are in harness. They work seven days each week, and have never discovered the art of enjoying a month’s holiday. Yet withal they go about their work in a truly artistic fashion. They are Asiatics, and they work as such. They think nothing of resting in the midst of their labours, four or five times between regular meals, to smoke or to sip tea. To have anything to do with Chinese workmen is to undergo a severe discipline in patience, so much so that it has been playfully remarked that after a missionary has built for himself a church or a house, he requires a furlough to restore his shattered nerves. Though his working-day is not so long, by several hours, your Occidental can generally pack as much into one hour as your Asiatic does in three, and therein lies the whole factor of race supremacy. The Oriental has not our energy. The sun is in his blood, and he has yielded to the enervating influences of climate for centuries. As a workman he has little mechanical inventiveness. Show him a short cut how to do a piece of work to-day, but do not be surprised if you find him back in the old groove to-morrow. Introduce some laboursaving machines, and spend infinite pains in instructing him in their use, or in demonstrating their utility, but do not be disappointed should you find them erelong rusting in the fields. The claims of habit would seem to be inexorable, and one almost despairs of ever getting the Chinese mind to grasp the meaning of the word progress.