perhaps mulcted to a small
amount; and with this administration of justice, he and his country must
be content. Who does not see that such an abdication of authority on our
part would lead to the perpetration of wrongs that would soon become
unendurable, even if we were first to become a broken spirited people?
And, considering the arrogance and recklessness of many foreigners in
China, and the pusillanimous character of the natives, what can be
expected but contempt and aggression on one side, and mistrust and
finesse on the other? What but a chronic discontent, wholly incompatible
with healthful commerce and peaceful intercourse, can be expected from
such a state of things? Consider further that this occurs among a people
of the highest antiquity, with a history and a civilization of which
they are justly proud; who, in political and moral science, were in
advance of Greece and Rome, at a time when those, whom they now
designate 'barbarians,' really were so. When our ancestors were half
naked savages, the Chinese were a polished literary people. In calling
attention to this subject we do so, not less in the interest of our
oriental clients than in that of our own lands; for our relations with
the empire of China will, with the growth of our power on the Pacific,
assume such importance, that good policy demands that we should avoid
any course likely to render hostile such a large portion of the human
race. Many years ago we deprecated Chinese emigration into California,
on the ground that, as _proletaires_, they would degrade labor, and
leave that State without its most important element of strength; yet to
the Chinese, in their own country, we would pursue a conciliatory
instead of a domineering course.
Hardly had the Portuguese doubled the Cape of Good Hope, when the
Chinese, who had but imperfectly resisted aggression from neighboring
countries, began to suffer annoyance from the 'barbarians from the
Western Ocean.' At an early day the Portuguese established a factory at
the mouth of the river on which Ningpo is situated. The factory became a
colony, and the colony a little state. 'At the origin of colonies,' says
M. Cochin, 'we find in general two men, a filibuster and a missionary.
To go so far, one must have either a devil in his body, or God in his
heart. When to these two men is joined a third--a ruler--all goes on
well; the first subjugates, the second converts, and the third
organizes.' All these went to wor
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