There, I believe, you have the real opinion of the Chinese official on the subject of trade. The “shang,” or merchant, as in Japan, is at the very bottom of the social scale--a parasite, who adds nothing to the common wealth, but exists on the labour and needs of others. I was the more surprised to have this quick revelation from a man of the character and intellect of the Intendent of the Eastern Marshes, because when in acknowledgment of his courtesy I offered to submit myself to cross-examination, he spoke eloquently of the wide difference between European and Chinese civilisation. “It is twenty years,” he said, “since I spoke with an Englishman in Feng-hoang-cheng, and I have never been beyond the borders of China. I have, however, read the diaries of many of my friends who have visited England, and I am aware how far in advance is the civilisation of Europe. I hope that in time we may make some progress in the same direction. We entertain for England and her people sentiments of gratitude and friendship. The English were the first to establish schools in Pekin, and to teach us something of Western thought and achievement. They taught us also how to regulate our trade and how to collect our Custom dues; and we learned from them something of the training of soldiers. We have tried to imitate you, but we are still far behind, though not without hope.” I am aware that language of this kind on the lips of an Oriental is nothing more than the compliment which good breeding dictates; but Chang-shi-lam spoke with such convincing earnestness, his face was so instinct with intelligence, and his eyes had such a look of mournful contemplation that I am disposed to count him among those progressive Chinamen who are not wrapped up in that impenetrable conceit which excludes the very notion of reform. In reply to his compliments I observed that we must become even better friends as our civilisation grew more alike, though we could not but venerate a civilisation which had given Confucius to the world, and had produced so many men of learning. Before taking leave of the Governor I expressed the hope that he and his people would soon be able to live in peace. “Yes,” he answered, “I hope the contest will end quickly, and that the fate of Manchuria will be determined once for all.” The Governor rose and escorted me to the outer court through a group of retainers, whose faces had crowded the doorway during our interview, and who had busied themselves by filling the teacups. As I was saying Good-bye this courtly and distinguished-looking gentleman betrayed the first sign of curiosity. He took my Panama hat and examined it with eyes and fingers expressing wonder that straw or fibre could be woven so fine. But for that little lapse I might have felt that I was taking leave of a cardinal in the Vatican or some priestly chancellor in the mediæval days. Chapter XVII THE SOLDIER AND HIS WAR SONGS.