Meantime Rheims had been taken by Langeron's rear-guard under St. Priest, another French emigrant. In the short day Napoleon could spend at Soissons, he took up 2500 new cavalrymen, a new line regiment of infantry, a veteran regiment of the same, and some artillery detachments. These men had been sent forward from Paris in spite of the profound gloom now prevalent there. The truth was at last known; Joseph was helpless; the Empress and her court were preparing for extremities. In the south Soult had been thrown back on Toulouse; in the southwest royalist plots were thickening; in the southeast Augereau had been forced back to Lyons; Macdonald was ready to abandon Provins at the first sign of advance by Schwarzenberg; and the sorry tale of Laon was early unfolded. Yet the administrative machinery was still running, and soldiers were being manufactured from the available materials. With what had been sent to Soissons Napoleon refitted his shattered battalions. Marmont, too, had done his best to make good a temporary lapse, and he had got together about 8000 men at Fismes. Though now overborn by a sense of Napoleon's recklessness, and therefore unfit for the desperate self-sacrifice which would have made him a fit coadjutor for his chief, he was prepared to atone for his disgrace at Athies. Early in the morning of the 13th the main French army moved from Soissons; at four in the afternoon Marmont opened the attack on Rheims. Napoleon himself had arrived, but his troops were slow in coming up, and there was no heavy artillery wherewith to batter in the gates. The struggle went on with desperate courage and gallantry on both sides. St. Priest was killed by the same gunner whose aim had been fatal to Moreau. «We may well say, O Providence! O Providence!» wrote Napoleon to his brother. At ten the beleaguered garrison began to sally and flee. Napoleon rose from the bearskin on which he had been resting before a bivouac fire, and storming with rage lest his prey should escape, hurried in the guns, which were finally within reach. Amid awful tumult and carnage the place fell; 3000 of the enemy were slain, and 3000 captured. The burghers were frenzied with delight as the Emperor marched in, and the whole city burst into an illumination.

Next morning Napoleon and Marmont met. The culprit was loaded with reproaches for the affair at Athies, and treated as a stern father might treat a careless child. No better evidence of the Emperor's low state is needed. Marmont was now the hero of the hour; his peccadillos might have been forgotten; his further faithfulness secured. With Napoleon at his best, this would surely have been the case; but aware that at most the war could be a matter of only a few weeks, the desperate man overdid his rôle of selfconfidence, being too rash, too severe, too haughty. Not that he was without some hope. Although for two years the shadow had been declining on the dial of Napoleon's fortunes, and although under adverse conditions one brilliant combination after another had crumbled, yet his ideas were as great as ever, the adjustment of plans to changing conditions was never more admirable. Yet effort and result did not correspond, and this being so, what would have been trifling misdemeanors in prosperity seemed to him in adversity to be dangerous faults. The great officers of state and army, imitating their master's ambitions, had acquired his weaknesses, but had failed in securing either his strength or adroitness. With him they had lost that fire of youth, which had carried them and him always just over the line of human expectation, and so his nice adjustments failed in exasperating ways at the very turn of necessity. Hard words and stinging reproofs are soon forgotten in generous youth; they rankle in middle life; and even the invigorating address or inspiring word, when heard too often for twenty years, fails of effect. The beginning of the end was the loss of Soissons at the critical instant. Napoleon was uncertain and touchy, his marshals were honeycombed with disaffection, the populations, though flashing like powder at his touch, had nowhere risen en masse. Thereafter the great captain was no longer waging a well-ordered warfare. Like an exhausted swordsman, he lunged here and there in the grand style; but his brain was troubled, his blade broken. Some untapped reservoirs of strength were yet to be opened, some untried expedients were to be essayed, but the end was inevitable. The movement on Rheims was the spasmodic stroke of the dying gladiator.

William M. Sloane.

his high offices, he is a man well suited to be placed at the head of an imposing embassy, and to represent his imperial master. He is of pure Chinese extraction, having no mixture of Manchu blood. Although seventy-four years of age, he is in fair degree of health and vigor, of fine physique, full six feet in height, of commanding presence, erect and stoutly built, with dark, piercing eyes, and a face that is strongly molded and indicative of strength of character, and that would command attention in any foreign circle. Dressed in his partycolored silken flowing robes, and his hat decorated with the three-eyed peacock feathers, he presents a figure which would be distinguished amid the glitter and pageantry of any European court.

For nearly half a century he has been in the public service, but this is the first time he has ever visited the nations of the West, and the second time he has been outside his native land. Only last year, it will be remembered, he was called by his sovereign to undertake the important and difficult mission of a journey to Japan to negotiate peace. On that occasion, although going as the representative of the defeated party, he was not unmindful of his country's greatness, or of the Oriental fondness for display, and the two merchantsteamers chartered for the voyage carried a retinue of one hundred and thirty-five persons, among whom were two Chinese ex-ministers to foreign courts, four secretaries of rank speaking English or French, a score of translators and copyists, a Chinese and a French physician, a captain and a body-guard, with a mandarin chair of highest rank, and its bearers, and cooks and servants in liberal numbers. The interesting and tragic circumstances attending that embassy, and the manner in which he discharged his high trust, added greatly to his prestige abroad, and make his present visit to the West the more attractive. Doubtless he will be received in its capitals and leading cities not only with great curiosity, but with demonstrations of sincere respect, because he is the most distinguished visitor which the great continent of Asia has sent to Europe during this generation. Shahs, princes, rajas, statesmen, and generals have come and gone, some mere puppets of power and others persons of distinction and merit; but none who has so fully represented power, and combined the qualities of a successful soldier, an able statesman, an accomplished diplomatist, and a trained scholar.

He is a striking illustration of the workings of the social and political system of the Chinese Empire. Although it is the oldest

VOL. LII.-71.

monarchy of the earth, it may be said to possess no hereditary nobility. It is the only land which bases its aristocracy on letters, and in this respect is a near approach to a pure democracy. The highest posts in the empire, except the few places held by the princes of the imperial blood, are open to the lowest subject, and the road to them is through the three grades of the competitive scholastic examinations held in the district, the province, and at Peking, the imperial capital.

CHINESE EDUCATION.

LI HUNG CHANG came of worthy but not distinguished parentage. His father had successfully passed the examinations, but held no official position, and was possessed of no opportunity to secure his son's advancement beyond affording him an opportunity to pursue his studies and fit himself for the examinations. These he successfully passed in all grades, and in the final contest at Peking he came out with distinguished honors among twenty thousand competitors. Later he was made a member of the Hanlin College, which corresponds somewhat to the French Academy. He therefore has reason to take pride in his accomplishments and standing as a scholar, though, judged by the Western standard of education, Chinese scholars would hold a very low grade. They have no conception of learning as understood in the West-of mathematics, chemistry, geology, or kindred sciences, and of universal history. Indeed, they have a very imperfect knowledge of geography. Their curriculum of study embraces the Chinese classics and philosophy (a voluminous compilation, especially holding in eminence the teachings of Confucius), the theory of government, and Chinese poetry and history. It is the standard fixed two thousand years ago, and has undergone little change in the succeeding centuries. One of our diplomatic representatives tells of a conversation had with one of the most distinguished scholars and highest officers in the empire, in which they canvassed their respective systems of education; and he reports that his Chinese friend had never heard of Homer, Virgil, or Shakspere; knew something of Alexander having crossed the Indus, had a vague knowledge of Cæsar and Napoleon, but none whatever of Hannibal, Peter the Great, Wellington, or other modern soldiers; and he was ignorant of astronomy, mathematics, or the modern sciences. When the American minister expressed surprise at these defects in Chinese education, the mandarin replied: «That is your civilization, and you learn it; we have ours,

and we learn it. For centuries we have gone on satisfied to know what we know. Why should we care to know what you know? » Yet it must be conceded that Chinese scholars and officials are usually men of decided intellectual ability, and they cannot be set down as uneducated because they have not followed the curriculum of study marked out by European civilization. It is a source of natural pride that they possess a literature and philosophy older than any similar learning of the West, and which even at this day are not obsolete, but exercise an elevating moral and intellectual influence on a vast multitude of the human family. But no one of his race more than Li Hung Chang recognizes the defects of the national system of education. Largely through his influence, the Emperor has established at Peking a college with a full faculty of foreign professors for the instruction of chosen Chinese youths in the European languages and modern sciences, with a view to training them for the diplomatic service. So he has also established at Tientsin, for the last twenty-five years his viceregal residence, schools for military, naval, and medical education, manned by European instructors; and his example has been followed by other viceroys.

Neither does he regard the competitive educational system of admission to the public service as a perfect method, and more than once he has recommended to his Emperor material modifications in the existing system. But it must be confessed that it has stood the test of centuries with much benefit to China, and its practical operation has demonstrated that it possesses two merits of inestimable value to any nation: first, it brings all the offices of the empire within the reach of the lowest subject; and secondly, it diminishes the incentives to, and opportunities of, corruption and favoritism in securing entrance into official life. But in China the competitive examination ends with the admission; beyond that step promotion must come through other methods. Li Hung Chang secured the right of admission to office through his assiduous application to study, and every succeeding step in his upward career has been attained by his own genius and capacity.

THE TAIPING REBELLION.

He had developed in his studies great literary taste, and the high distinction with which he passed his final examination at Peking was a guarantee of some desirable civil post in which he might satisfy his taste

for study. But the course of public affairs was destined to defeat this natural expectation, and turn his life into an entirely different channel. The Taiping rebellion, the most formidable of the many revolts against the reigning dynasty, had its inception during his student days; and about the time of his return from the imperial capital to his father's home on the Yang-tse-kiang River, to receive the honors which every community in China showers upon its successful students at the examinations, the rebellion assumed most alarming proportions. Its leaders captured the ancient capital, Nanking, a most important neighboring city, and marched a great army by the parental home on its triumphant way northward toward Peking. The young student, fired with patriotic zeal, and greatly alarmed for the fate of the sovereign whose honors he had so recently received, raised a regiment of home militia and entered upon the untried field of war. He possessed no training or experience as a soldier, but he developed many of the qualities of a successful general. His force was small and his resources were few, but he fell upon and harassed the rear of the rebel army, and sought to cut off its communications. Its advance on Peking was finally checked, and it was forced to recross the great river and return to Nanking. The imperial capital was saved, and the young student soldier had borne such an honorable and conspicuous part in this campaign that he attracted the attention of the generalissimo of the imperial army, Tseng Kwo-fan; his forces were attached to the latter's command, and he was assigned an important post under the general-in-chief. Tseng Kwo-fan was at the time the leading man of the empire, the father of the Marquis Tseng, who in the present generation attained much fame as a diplomatist in European capitals, and the former was not slow in recognizing the ability of the young soldier. He displayed such military qualities, and such devotion to the imperial cause, that he rose rapidly in the army, and soon became the active commander in the field, having immediate charge of the operations about Nanking and Shanghai, which latter city and important treaty-port was being threatened by the rebels.

With a spirit of liberality and quick discernment little characteristic of his countrymen, he early recognized the fact that the methods and weapons of Chinese warfare were antiquated and ill-suited to the work in hand, and he welcomed the opportunity afforded by his stay at Shanghai to introduce into the campaign modern military appliances. A foreign legion, enlisted from the unemployed and

adventurous Europeans who frequented that port, was admitted into the Chinese army under the command of an American sailor named Ward, and which, on account of its brilliant successes, and following the Chinese practice of adopting high-sounding titles, was called the «Ever-Victorious Army.» Ward, after a thorough organization of his foreign contingent, and a series of triumphs over the rebels, was killed in an assault upon the enemy, and the command of the corps devolved upon Colonel Gordon, who was detached from the British army for that purpose. This foreign contingent was the most trustworthy ally of the Chinese general in the suppression of the great rebellion, and much fame has justly come to Gordon for the part he bore in the contest. But there is a general disposition on the part of British writers to belittle the services and smirch the reputation of the American, Ward, who is always styled by them an "adventurer.» How he differed from Gordon in that respect is not apparent: but certain it is that he is entitled to the credit of having displayed marked military ability both in organizing his forces and in leading them in battle; and he demonstrated the wisdom of the Chinese commander in enlisting the corps, and its utility as a means of putting down the rebellion. No greater indorsement of his military genius could have been given than by Gordon himself in adopting his organization and following his methods to the smallest details.

Li Hung Chang came out of these campaigns with a high reputation for military skill, great administrative capacity, and devoted loyalty to the reigning dynasty, and was thenceforward the most famous man of his nation. But just at the close of the war an incident occurred which, in the estimation of most foreigners, has remained as a blight upon his fair fame. In the final great battle, which resulted in the capture of the most prominent of the leaders of the rebellion, Gordon, who was instrumental in their actual capture, promised to spare their lives, but immediately after being sent to headquarters they were beheaded. Gordon, who was of an impetuous temperament, denounced this act as a breach of faith, and, it is said, threatened to take the life of Li and to throw up his command. But he did neither. Li claimed that the refractory conduct of the rebel princes after their surrender made the punishment a necessity; and such a cool-headed and experienced man as Sir Robert Hart, with a full knowledge of the facts, held that Colonel Gordon was not justified in his conduct, and

induced him to reconsider his action and judgment. Gordon continued in command for some time, and up to the day of his death at Khartum maintained most friendly relations with the viceroy. Notwithstanding these facts, English writers generally insist that Li was guilty of bad faith and of bloody and inhuman conduct. But it should be borne in mind that the Taiping rebellion was a most desolating and relentless war; that it had destroyed many populous cities; had laid waste nearly one half of the empire; had sacrificed an enormous number of lives, estimated as high as twenty millions; and that the leaders who were beheaded had been guilty of horrid cruelties. Under such circumstances it would not have been strange if even the most civilized and Christian commander, in the flush of victory, should have ordered the execution of the authors of such untold horrors and bloodshed. The sepoy mutiny of India synchronizes with the Taiping rebellion. If the << heathen Chinese » should wish to retort upon his foreign critics, he might not find it difficult to parallel his own conduct with that of his civilized neighbors, the rulers of India.

LI'S HONORS AND PROMOTION.

THE overthrow of the rebels, and the part he bore in accomplishing this result, brought to him distinguished honors from the throne. He was made an earl, was presented with the yellow jacket (the exclusive emblem of the imperial favor), and was appointed viceroy of an important province. But he was afforded little opportunity for the exercise of his executive faculties in affairs of peace. The country continued in a state of unrest; new revolts in other parts of the empire broke out, and, as the hero of the Taiping war, he was designated by the Emperor to suppress them. For the next few years he was kept busy with military affairs, and, owing to the difficulty and delays experienced, he more than once suffered reprimands from Peking; but no other man was found equal to the tasks set him, and he always emerged in the end with success, and was the recipient of the renewed gratitude of his sovereign.

As the Taiping rebellion brought him out of the quiet of his father's home, and thrust him into a new and untried career of service, so another unexpected and almost equally alarming event called him from the interior of the country, and from internal warfare, to a service in which he was altogether inexperienced, and which was destined to bring to him new burdens and honors. Since the Anglo