The Winter of 1908: A Fateful Visit to Korea
The crisp winter air of 1908 carried me to Korea during a pivotal moment in its history. The Young Men’s Christian Association had just completed an impressive new building in Seoul (then called Hanseong), and both Japanese and Korean officials had agreed to attend its grand opening ceremony. As an invited guest representing neither side, I found myself mediating tensions between the occupying Japanese forces and the Korean populace during this three-day celebration.
Each day catered to different audiences: Christians on the first day, students from mission and public schools on the second, and government officials on the third. My speeches each day attempted to bridge divides. During the third day’s proceedings, after the Japanese Resident-General Itō Hirobumi spoke, a quick-witted Korean Christian named Yun Su-ha playfully removed my chair just as I prepared to sit down after speaking.
In my address, I drew a poignant parallel between Korea’s two centuries of oppression and the saline lands of northern China – barren until the Yellow River’s floods deposited rich soil that transformed worthless land into fertile treasure. “Your current suffering under Japanese protection,” I argued, “may similarly prepare you for future greatness, just as Itō’s guidance (admired even by China’s emperor) could help forge a new Korean identity if wisely utilized for twenty years.”
The evening before my departure, Itō hosted a remarkable dinner for Japanese and Korean officials along with foreign guests. His closing speech revealed profound insights from his global travels: that national prosperity requires improving citizens’ material conditions, that wealth needs ethical foundations, and that religions undergirding morality create the strongest societies. These words from Asia’s greatest statesman took on tragic significance when he was assassinated shortly thereafter.
Sun Yat-sen: The Revolutionary Path
Dr. Sun Yat-sen’s revolutionary career presented a fascinating case study in radical change versus gradual reform. The London Missionary Society-educated physician turned revolutionary first crossed my path in 1896 after his dramatic kidnapping in London’s Chinese legation. When he visited me to thank my relief work in China, our conversation revealed stark ideological differences.
Sun passionately denounced Manchu rule while advocating simple Han Chinese replacement of the Qing dynasty. I countered that merely changing rulers without systemic reform would prove futile – like flipping a corroded coin to find rust on both sides. My advocacy for cultural enlightenment over violent revolution fell on deaf ears; Sun had already committed fully to overthrowing the Qing.
Our paths crossed again in 1900 when I visited Sun in Yokohama. Immersed in revolutionary planning, he dismissed any possibility of Qing reform. His subsequent global fundraising tour and base in Japan (where 10,000 Chinese students studied Japan’s modernization secrets) laid groundwork for the 1911 revolution that would topple two millennia of imperial rule.
The 1911 Revolution and Its Aftermath
The October 10, 1911 Wuchang Uprising ignited like wildfire across China. The brutal massacre of 15,000 Manchus in Xi’an and similar violence elsewhere marked the revolution’s dark side. By December, the child emperor Puyi abdicated through his regent, transferring power to Premier Yuan Shikai while Sun (returning from exile) became provisional president of the new Republic.
This transition proved far from smooth. Many revolutionary appointees displayed alarming incompetence and corruption surpassing the Qing officials they replaced. Banditry and provincial separatism ran rampant until Yuan Shikai’s firm hand restored order through military force and by recalling exiled reformists like Kang Youwei and Liang Qichao.
When invited to counsel Sun against publicly opposing Yuan’s foreign loans for military modernization, I found him reviewing his protest draft. My argument that China needed unity behind its new leader went unheeded. The subsequent failed 1913 rebellion forced Sun’s faction into exile, where they reportedly plotted further revolution from Japan.
Cultural Crosscurrents: Religion and Reform
The revolutionary period unleashed profound religious and intellectual ferment. My 1910 discussion with Beijing’s chief Muslim imam revealed Islam’s accommodation with Confucianism, while post-1911 Shanghai saw massive public meetings questioning all traditional belief systems. Buddhist and Daoist leaders increasingly invited missionaries like myself to discuss religious reform.
The British Baptist Convention’s 1912 gathering in Shandong’s Qingzhou (where I began mission work decades earlier) culminated in an extraordinary scene: over 1,000 locals – Muslims, Manchus, students and officials – voluntarily gathering to thank Christian educational reforms. A military detachment maintained order as officials recited commemorative poetry – a symbolic moment of cross-cultural appreciation.
Explorations in Shandong: From Daoist Temples to German Qingdao
My 1913 research trip to translate Journey to the West led to Mount Lao’s Daoist temples near German-controlled Qingdao. Compared to Zhejiang’s Buddhist Mount Tiantai, these scattered, rustic temples made less architectural impression until I reached Taiqing Palace – the Daoist headquarters whose abbot maintained an impressive library.
Our discussions ranged from revolution to religious reform, with the abbot advocating ending clerical celibacy and interfaith education. His humble charity to local shellfish gatherers reflected remembered kindnesses from my 1870s famine relief work. My return via a lumber raft – sleeping atop fragrant grasses under starry skies – provided an unexpectedly pleasant conclusion.
Changsha’s Transformation: From Xenophobia to Openness
By 1914, Hunan’s capital Changsha had undergone remarkable change from its fiercely anti-foreign past. Where official Zhou Han once threatened to dismember foreigners, now Christian schools and hospitals flourished. Descendants of eminent families like the Zengs and Nies (including Zeng Guofan’s grandson) actively led Christian work.
My June 1914 visit coincided with catastrophic flooding – streets became canals as citizens lived upstairs above submerged shops. Yet the intellectual climate proved extraordinarily open: Buddhist abbots thanked me for translating their scriptures; educators packed churches to discuss creating a world government; women’s groups pledged to end foot-binding. The warm reception from Hunan’s elite, including the provincial governor’s family, symbolized how far this once-xenophobic region had progressed.
Personal Milestones Amid Global Upheaval
August 1914 brought personal joy as I married Ethel Tribe, a London University graduate and medical missionary, after eleven years of widowhood. Our December trip to Java revealed its eight-layer civilization – indigenous, Indian, Arab, Portuguese, Dutch, French, British and Chinese – just as Europe plunged into World War I, cutting short our intercultural religious dialogues.
From Korea’s colonial tensions to China’s revolution and Java’s multicultural tapestry, these travels (1908-1914) captured East Asia’s dramatic transformation – where Christian institutions interacted with Buddhist reformers, revolutionary idealists clashed with practical statesmen, and ancient civilizations confronted modernity’s challenges. The complex interplay of religious, political and cultural forces during this pivotal era continues to shape our world today.