1705041458 I saw then that my friend’s unfortunate communication still rankled. I did not quite know how to reply. I murmured something complimentary.

1705041459

1705041460 He was an old man, tall, with a thin gray queue, and bright large eyes under which were heavy bags. His teeth were broken and discolored. He was exceedingly thin, and his hands, fine and small, were withered and clawlike. I had been told that he was an opium smoker. He was very shabbily dressed in a black gown, a little black cap, both much the worse for wear, and dark gray trousers gartered at the ankle. He was watching. He did not quite know what attitude to take up, and he had the manner of a man who was on his guard. Of course the philosopher occupies a royal place among those who concern themselves with the things of the spirit and we have the authority of Benjamin Disraeli that royalty must be treated with abundant flattery. I seized my trowel. Presently I was conscious of a certain relaxation in his demeanor. He was like a man who was all set and rigid to have his photograph taken, but hearing the shutter click lets himself go and eases into his natural self. He showed me his books.

1705041461

1705041462 “I took the Ph.D. in Berlin, you know,” he said. “And afterwards I studied for some time in Oxford. But the English, if you will allow me to say so, have no great aptitude for philosophy.”

1705041463

1705041464 Though he put the remark apologetically it was evident that he was not displeased to say a slightly disagreeable thing.

1705041465

1705041466 “We have had philosophers who have not been without influence in the world of thought,” I suggested.

1705041467

1705041468 “Hume and Berkeley? The philosophers who taught at Oxford when I was there were anxious not to offend their theological colleagues. They would not follow their thought to its logical consequences in case they should jeopardize their position in university society.”

1705041469

1705041470 “Have you studied the modern developments of philosophy in America?” I asked.

1705041471

1705041472 “Are you speaking of Pragmatism? It is the last refuge of those who want to believe the incredible. I have more use for American petroleum than for American philosophy.”

1705041473

1705041474 His judgments were tart. We sat down once more and drank another cup of tea. He began to talk with fluency. He spoke a somewhat formal but an idiomatic English. Now and then he helped himself out with a German phrase. So far as it was possible for a man of that stubborn character to be influenced he had been influenced by Germany. The method and the industry of the Germans had deeply impressed him and their philosophical acumen was patent to him when a laborious professor published in a learned magazine an essay on one of his own writings.

1705041475

1705041476 “I have written twenty books,” he said, “and that is the only notice that has ever been taken of me in a European publication.”

1705041477

1705041478 But his study of Western philosophy had only served in the end to satisfy him that wisdom after all was to be found within the limits of the Confucian canon. He accepted its philosophy with conviction. It answered the needs of his spirit with a completeness which made all foreign learning seem vain. I was interested in this because it bore out an opinion of mine that philosophy is an affair of character rather than of logic; the philosopher believes not according to evidence, but according to his own temperament; and his thinking merely serves to make reasonable what his instinct regards true. If Confucianism gained so firm a hold on the Chinese it is because it explained and expressed them as no other system of thought could do.

1705041479

1705041480 My host lit a cigarette. His voice at first had been thin and tired, but as he grew interested in what he said it gained volume. He talked vehemently. There was in him none of the repose of the sage. He was a polemist and a fighter. He loathed the modern cry for individualism. For him society was the unit, and the family the foundation of society. He upheld the old China and the old school, monarchy, and the rigid canon of Confucius. He grew violent and bitter as he spoke of the students, fresh from foreign universities, who with sacrilegious hands tore down the oldest civilization in the world.

1705041481

1705041482 “But you, do you know what you are doing?” he exclaimed,“what is the reason for which you deem yourselves our betters? Have you excelled us in arts or letters? Has our civilization been less elaborate, less complicated, less refined than yours? Why, when you lived in caves and clothed yourselves with skins we were a cultured people. Do you know that we tried an experiment which is unique in the history of the world? We sought to rule this great country not by force but by wisdom. And for centuries we succeeded. Then why does the white men despise the yellow? Shall I tell you? Because he has invented the machine gun. That is your superiority. We are a defenseless horde and you can blow us into eternity. You have shattered the dream of our philosophers that the world could be governed by the power of law and order. And now you are teaching our young men your secret. You have thrust your hideous inventions upon us. Do you not know that we have a genius for mechanics? Do you not know that there are in this country four hundred millions of the most practical and industrious people in the world? Do you think it will take us long to learn? And what will become of your superiority when the yellow man can make as good guns as the white and fire them as straight? You have appealed to the machine gun and by the machine gun shall you be judged.”

1705041483

1705041484 But at that moment we were interrupted. A little girl come softly in and nestled close up to the old gentleman. She stared at me with curious eyes. He told me that she was his youngest child. He put his arms round her and with a murmur of caressing words kissed her fondly. She wore a black coat and trousers that barely reached her ankles, and she had a long pigtail hanging down her back. She was born on the day the revolution was brought to a successful issue by the abdication of the emperor.

1705041485

1705041486 “I thought she heralded the Spring of the new era,” he said. “She was but the last flower of this great nation’s Fall.”

1705041487

1705041488 From a drawer in his roll-top desk he took a few cash, and handing them to her, sent her away.

1705041489

1705041490 “You see that I wear a queue,” he said, taking it in his hands. “It is a symbol. I am the last representative of the Old China.”

1705041491

1705041492 He talked to me, more gently now, of how philosophers in long past days wandered from state to state with their disciples, teaching all who were worthy to learn. Kings called them to their councils and made them rulers of cities. His erudition was great and his eloquent phrases gave a multicolored vitality to the incidents he related to me of the history of his country. I could not help thinking him a somewhat pathetic figure. He felt in himself the capacity to administer the state, but there was no king to intrust him with office; he had vast stores of learning which he was eager to impart to the great band of students that his soul hankered after, and there came to listen but a few wretched, half-starved, and obtuse provincials.

1705041493

1705041494 Once or twice discretion had made me suggest that I should take my leave, but he had been unwilling to let me go. Now at last I was obliged to. I rose. He held my hand.

1705041495

1705041496 “I should like to give you something as a recollection of your visit to the last philosopher in China, but I am a poor man and I do not know what I can give you that would be worthy of your acceptance.”

1705041497

1705041498 I protested that the recollection of my visit was in itself a priceless gift. He smiled.

1705041499

1705041500 “Men have short memories in these degenerate days, and I should like to give you something more substantial. I would give you one of my books but you cannot read Chinese.”

1705041501

1705041502 He looked at me with an amicable perplexity. I had an inspiration.

1705041503

1705041504 “Give me a sample of your calligraphy,” I said.

1705041505

1705041506 “Would you like that?” He smiled. “In my youth I was considered to wield the brush in a manner that was not entirely despicable.”

1705041507

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