LAST WEEK.
There is in every week, as it passes away, an event which occupies the attention of the English public, almost to the exclusion of all others. It may be the entry of Victor Emmanuel into Naples, or the difficulties of the Bank of France, or the Road murder, or the election of an anti-slavery President for the United States, or a terrible railway accident, as recently in the Trent Valley, but there is always one event which overtops and overshadows all others. If one comes to think of it, fifty-two great events in a year form a considerable total. Take the average business life of a man whose existence is prolonged to the usual term of human life, as consisting of forty years—from twenty to sixty years of age—he will then have lived through upwards of two thousand great public events, independently of those lesser, but perhaps to himself, more interesting incidents which distinguish his own private career. Now, during the Last Week, beyond all question the event which has most been canvassed and discussed has been the capture of certain of our countrymen by the Chinese just as the allied forces of Great Britain and France were about to plant their flags upon the very walls of Pekin.
Lord Elgin’s own opinion seems to be that absolute treachery was not intended. The Chinese had not of malice aforethought laid a plan for the capture of the Plenipotentiaries; in other words, intended a repetition of the treachery at the Taku Forts last year. This time—so it was at first suggested—the idea was not to surprise and slay a parcel of unfortunate seamen, but to kidnap or kill personages of no less importance than the representatives of the two Western nations. Lord Elgin and Baron Gros were to be invited to a meeting with the great Chinese dignitaries appointed to treat with them; there was to be a stipulation that only such and such a force was to be displayed on either side; the Chinese were to hold in concealment troops so numerous that both by their numbers, and by the effect of surprise, they might safely calculate upon bearing down any opposition from the European escort; and then—what? Were Lord Elgin and Baron Gros to be carried about in bamboo cages, and exposed to the scorn and derision of the mob of Pekin, that it might be seen in what small account the Imperial Government held their barbarian enemies? Were they to be well-treated, on the other hand, and brought to admire the clemency and mercy of the Emperor? Were they to be crucified, or cajoled? Was their entry into Pekin to be greeted by an illumination, or an impalement, the Plenipotentiaries being principal actors in the latter ceremony? The hypothesis seemed so probable and so completely in accordance with what we have known of the character of the Chinese, and of the spirit as well as the forms of their dealings with Europeans, that it is no great wonder if it found ready acceptance not only in the Allied Camp—but, even more quickly, here at home. Lord Elgin, however, in a despatch which he addressed to the Foreign Office just after the event, and which was published Last Week, gives it as his own opinion “that in this instance there was that mixture of stupidity, want of straightforwardness, suspicion, and bluster, which characterises so generally the conduct of affairs in this country.” He rests this opinion on the ground that San-ko-lin-sin, the Imperial General, must have already received such substantial proof of the superiority of the Europeans in the field that he would not in all probability have courted a renewal of the contest. It must be said in answer that the conduct of the Chinese has invariably been just what Lord Elgin supposes it is not in this present instance. At what period of active hostilities—or during negotiations for peace—or at its conclusion, has treachery ever ceased not only to be the ingredient, but the distinguishing feature in the dealings of the Chinese with the Western nations? In the present case it is admitted that this Imperial General covered the ground assigned for the occupation of the allies with his guns and troops—and did all that in him lay to put them at his mercy. Whatever his intentions may have been, there were the preparations for his perfidy—and the perfidy itself.
In dealing with such a people it is impossible to say what turn events may take. Your Chinaman is not like what we call a mere savage—the toy and sport of his own impulses and passions. He reasons—perhaps he makes a greater show of reasoning than we do—but from precisely similar facts he draws inferences directly the reverse of those which would occur to the mind of a European. Give an Englishman and a Chinaman similar premises—each will work the matter out in his own way; the appeal, in either case, will be to the logical sense; and yet their conclusions will be different as black from white. The Pekin mandarins might, at any moment, make up their minds that the European prisoners should be sternly dealt with, just at the very moment that the preservation and safe return of the captives would be of the most vital importance to themselves. An idea seems to be projected into the Chinese mind by way of refraction. Still, with all this, the vast weight of presumption is happily in favour of the re-delivery of our countrymen in safe condition. They, or some of them, had been seen in a cart on their way to the city of Pekin—under escort, of course—and not ill-treated. Four days after their capture, intelligence had been received that they were alive and well: the wonder perhaps is that in four days they were not given back. One great element which may be fairly taken into account in estimating their chances of safety, in a favourable sense, is that Mr. Parkes is amongst the number, and he is perfectly well acquainted not only with the language but with the character of the Chinese. Many acts of stupid cruelty, of which we seek in vain for an explanation, must have been the mere result of want of power of communication. The captor cannot come to an understanding with his captive for the simple reason that neither understands a word which the other says, and the executioner’s sword cuts the Gordian Knot. Mr. Parkes, however, has many enemies at Pekin—certainly his old antagonist, the Hoppo—amongst official persons who had been employed at Canton during the Lorcha war, of which, and not without