an adequate tax, we shall have done our utmost in that direction. How foolish then, how quixotic, how pedantic, how provincial to separate ourselves, in working towards practical and realizable aims, from those who are otherwise our best allies, because forsooth we differ, or think we differ, on some abstract points, which may possibly come to have practical significance some time about the twenty-fifth century! "We are all Socialists now," says the finger-post politician; so much the better then, say all sensible Individualists among us. The slight encroachments made by taxation upon the earnings of the individual—earnings already vitiated from the very outset by the unequal distribution of raw material-are as nothing compared with the steps taken towards a more equitable division of natural goods. For the capitalist himself, that great bugbear of Socialism (with whom we as Individualists have no personal quarrel), hangs in the last resort to the skirts of the squatter monopolist: without the inequality of wealth produced by monopoly, he would be rendered so insignificant as to be practically innocuous. If we could all be pure Individualists on an even basis at once, if we could get rid of all the artificial monopolies, the hereditary inequalities, the land-grabbing and coaltaxing, the ground-rents and tithes then indeed we might have fair ground to complain of the slightest infringement of our personal liberty. But as long as all these greater evils and injustices remain unredressed, how absurd to make a noisy fuss about small contributions for the public good, which mainly fall upon the broad shoulders of those already too rich, through these very monopolies and unjust privileges! Individualism is only a tenable creed if it is thorough-going and consistent, if it bases itself upon first principles: to pretend to Individualism while upholding all the worst encroachments upon individuality in the shape of robbery from the common stock, with its consequent restriction of individual liberty to the right of starving in the public highway, is a sham and a delusion.

GRANT ALLEN.

RAILWAYS IN CHINA.

[MAY

VER since the opening of the Treaty Ports the attention of foreigners in China has been attracted to the development of the means of inter-communication in a country where the engineering difficulties to be encountered are comparatively small. The frequent recurrence of famine over the vast area of China, the enormous difficulties of transport with the consequent delay and uncertainty in conveying relief, and the increased price of all commodities in a ratio out of all proportion to the distance from the area of production, offered such strong arguments for the introduction of railways that it seemed impossible even for Chinese prejudice to withstand them, provided any feasible scheme could be produced. The most practical method appeared to be by way of demonstration, and accordingly a small line was constructed between Shanghai and Wusung, a distance of thirteen miles. In December 1876 the line was opened for traffic under a convention between the Governments of Great Britain and China, and for some time met with a fair measure of success. From December to October 175,995 tickets were issued, and the sum of $38,258.78 was realized by their sale. Happily no casualty of any kind happened to passengers, and the promoters of the railway had reason to congratulate themselves on the complete success of their undertaking. But they had under-estimated the intense conservatism of the Chinese character, the dislike which such an innovation was sure to arouse among a nation profoundly affected by an ancient system of geomancy and imbued with a traditional reverence for the places of the dead, and, above all, the opposition to be encountered from the host of carriers by road and canal, already jealous of the slightest interference with their means of livelihood. With such potent influences arrayed against it, the railway bantling could hardly

On October 20, 1877, the The rails were torn up, the

be long-lived. It lasted barely a year. Chinese authorities purchased the line. permanent way was destroyed, and the remains of the first railway in China are now lying rusting on the Formosan beach.

Meanwhile events had been moving rapidly. China had formally entered the comity of nations. Her political relations with foreign Powers were becoming closer and more involved. Emigrants were annually departing from her shores in increasing numbers to Australasia, the Straits Settlements, the United States, and Peru, and their care formed an additional and growing tax upon the resources of Chinese diplomacy. The national cohesion could not long withstand the disintegrating processes at work, and the barriers of ancient exclusiveness were crumbling away as surely and more rapidly than the Great Wall itself. It became necessary to appoint ambassadors and consuls at foreign Courts and at those places where large numbers of Chinese subjects had settled. It was soon found that Celestial diplomacy could hold its own against that of the West, but it was felt to be intolerable that all the advantages of a rapid means of communication should be on the side of the barbarian. The telegraph wire at any rate soared above the gods of the earth and the spirits of ancestors at rest within the tomb. It interfered with no man's property, and not even the most superstitious of the Censors had a valid objection to offer. In fact, all that was required was a fair start, and, that once obtained, the wires "forged ahead" until in 1884 there were 3089 miles of line open, and the Imperial authorities at Peking found themselves in direct communication with the Marquis Tseng, who was then their representative in Great Britain.

This was a great step in advance, and quite in keeping with the Chinese method of reversing the procedure of other countries. For once, the telegraph had given a lead to the railway, and other influences were at work to hasten its lagging steps. The veteran warrior and statesman, Tso Tsung-t'ang, lay sick at Foochow. He had seen the masterly subjugation of the rebels in Kashgaria during the long years between 1871 and 1877, where also his own victories had won for him a place in Chinese history beside the most famous generals of old. The Taiping rebellion had received its death-blow at Gordon's hand, but the constant fear of Russian encroachments on the Mongolian frontier, the extreme delicacy and even danger of China's relations with Japan, the restlessness of Corea under the Imperial suzerainty, and the impending difficulties with France filled his patriotic soul with trouble. It may be that with the prescience begotten by approaching death he foresaw the parlous times in store for his country, when France should reach her frontier on the South, when Great Britain should touch her borders on the West, and Russia should approach as near on the North. He was passing away, and on whom was his mantle to fall? His own

difficulties in grappling with an internal war had been heavy enough, but who could save China in the future when her enemies hemmed her in on every side? In a most touching memorial to the Throne, penned shortly before his death, he reviewed the situation, and, with all the weight of his tried patriotism and experience, urged the construction of railways as a first means of safety for his country. The appeal could not pass unheeded by either his countrymen or the Government. The effect on public opinion of such an utterance from one of China's noblest and most trusted sons, with all the weight lent by his subsequent decease, was indeed enormous. It soon became known that the Viceroy of Chihli and his protégé, the Viceroy of Formosa, were in favour of the project. In 1887 the Marquis Tseng returned from his duties abroad to take up an important position in the capital and to throw all his additional knowledge and experience on the side of reform. The same year an historical event happened which had an important bearing on the case. For the first time a prince of the royal blood visited a foreign settlement. Prince Ch'un, who is the father of the present Emperor, and a man of liberal views, journeyed as far south as Chefoo to inspect the Chinese fleet. For the first time in his life he came in contact with foreigners, and was able to see for himself the value of our modern inventions. On his return to Peking he laid the results of his journey before the Dowager Empress, and it soon became known that this wise and astute lady was also on the side of progress. The body of Censors, who there perform the functions of a parliamentary Opposition with us, were ominously silent, a sure sign of their consciousness that any protests of theirs would be ill received at Court. In a word, the times seemed ripe, and, after one or two preliminary memorials, the Imperial rescript was issued in March of last year and the die was cast. For the first time official sanction was obtained for the novel undertaking, and nothing remained but to put it into execution. The matter was happily entrusted to Li Hung-chang, by far the most enlightened and able statesman in China, and in his hands it was felt that success was assured.

But he had set himself a difficult task. To allay the hostility and smooth the susceptibilities of a conservative and superstitious people demanded all the care and tact at his command. The slightest mistake might mean failure, and to ensure success the greatest caution was necessary. His first step was to familiarize the people gradually with the new means of locomotion. The year before the rescript was granted, a small railway on the Decauville system was laid at Tientsin, and for a few cents the public were whirled round a circle of two or three miles. The snorting little engine was found on acquaintance to bel not such a very dreadful object after all, and for several mont': curious and delighted crowds thronged the carriages. Meanwha Liu Ming-ch'uan had not been idle in Formosa, and a line of strafly

railway was being constructed in the very country where a few years before the old Wusung rails had been thrown down in contempt.. The third and most important step, however, was made in Li Hungchang's own province of Chihli. Tong King-sing, a man of great ability and with a taste for Western inventions, had opened at Tongshan the first colliery in China worked on foreign principles. The engineer-in-chief was Mr. C. W. Kinder, a man thoroughly honest, able, and reliable. Under his management, a railway had been constructed to convey the coal from the mine to the port of shipment, some twenty miles distant, and at this the authorities had been content to wink. Here, then, was a man ready to hand, and to him accordingly Li Hung-chang applied. The China Railway Company was formed, with Chinese directors indeed, but with European engineers, and work was at once commenced. Tich lu lai la, "The railways are coming," said Prince Kung once to Dr. Wells Williams at Peking. A decade and more has passed since then, and at last the prince sees his prophecy fulfilled.

The Tongshan line has now been extended until a distance of 81 miles has been completed-viz., Tientsin to Tongku, 27 miles ; Tongku to Lutai, 25 miles; and Lutai to Tongshan, 29 miles. In addition there are 5 miles of sidings and branches. The line is a single one, the rails are of steel, and the gauge throughout is the 4 feet 8 inches common in Great Britain. The four passenger and seven tank locomotives were, with one exception, imported from England.

Financially, there is every reason for believing that the new railway will be a success. The small Tongshan line has already paid a dividend of 6 per cent., and the extension will add enormously to its profits, tapping as it does a populous stretch of country and a busy centre of commerce like Tientsin. An additional feature is the extreme cheapness with which the line has been constructed. The country through which it passes is flat and marshy, and in certain seasons of the year liable to inundations. In consequence of this, an embankment of 8 feet in altitude was in some places required, some fifty bridges had to be constructed, and an extensive system of water channels was found necessary. Bearing this in mind, the total cost so far-viz., a million and a half of taels, or, say, under £4300, per mile-is exceedingly small, and reflects the greatest credit on Mr. Kinder and his staff.

A comparison between the Japanese and the Chinese is a favourite theme with travellers, who never tire of contrasting the former's rapid strides with China's timid steps along the path of progress. Νο doubt Japan is far ahead of China in all modern improvements, but her pioneering has been expensive work, and China has profited by her experience. The first railway in Japan, from Tokio to Yokohama, a distance of 18 miles, was completed in 1880 at a cost of £34,263