same as they were two thousand years ago, with this difference, that a thorough scholarly acquaintance with the classics takes now first rank, while the result of the moral teaching of the sacred text-books is hardly recognised, and is left to the somewhat elastic conscience of the successful candidate for office.
These examinations are open to all grades of society, excepting the most depraved sections of the community, and those having no recognised social status. On the surface, this appears to be the one democratic institution of the country, but in its practical operation proves no exception to the purely conservative basis upon which all Chinese institutions are reared.
Literary graduates, when selected for the Imperial service, are at once cut adrift from the people, and form a caste by themselves, whose sole interest lies in maintaining the ancient policy of the Government, to the exclusion of such measures of progress and reform as would bring the country abreast of the times, and foster the permanent interests of the community from which they sprang. The system is nevertheless popular, and the examination-hall full of infinite possibilities, affording a strong incentive to parents to educate their children, with the result that the schoolmaster is found in every village in the Empire. He is himself a student, an expectant, or unsuccessful candidate for office, who is treated with the honour befitting the dignity of his position, and supported with much self-sacrifice by the villagers. Judging from personal experience, few Chinamen are wholly illiterate, while the majority are too poor to procure anything beyond elementary training. It is from this untutored class that our colonial settlements draw their supplies of labour, the class "par excellence" showing capacity and determination to adapt themselves to new surroundings and to profit by the methods of Western progress. They are naturally free
