pen reduces the military official to abject submission." On the other
hand, it is admitted that "Civilians give the empire peace, and soldiers
give it security."

Chinese parents have never, until recent days, willingly trained their
sons for the army. They have always wished their boys to follow the
stereotyped literary curriculum, and then, after passing successfully
through the great competitive examinations, to rise to high civil office
in the state. A good deal of ridicule has been heaped of late on the
Chinese competitive examination, the subjects of which were drawn
exclusively from the Confucian Canon, and included a knowledge of
ancient history, of a comprehensive scheme of morality, initiated by
Confucius, and further elaborated by Mencius (372-289 B.C.), of the
ballads and ceremonial rites of three thousand years ago, and of an
aptitude for essay-writing and the composition of verse. The whole
curriculum may be fitly compared with such an education as was given
to William Pitt and others among our own great statesmen, in which an
ability to read the Greek and Roman classics, coupled with an intimate
knowledge of the Peloponnesian War, carried the student about as far as
it was considered necessary for him to go. The Chinese course, too, has
certainly brought to the front in its time a great many eminent men, who
have held their own in diplomacy, if not in warfare, with the subtlest
intellects of the West.

Their system of competitive examinations has indeed served the Chinese
well. It is the brightest spot in the whole administration, being
absolutely above suspicion, such as attaches to other departments of the
state. Attempts have been made from time to time to gain admission by
improper means to the list of successful candidates, and it would be
absurd to say that not one has ever succeeded; the risk, however, is too