narrator's interest only in the same events or even a more substantial concernment. I have no wish to deny the apologetic character of this book. But at every point the charge of being swerved from the truth by prejudice may be met with these replies: First, very unusual opportunities were afforded the author for ascertaining the truth; and, second, in almost every case where the evidence brought forward seems insufficient there is much more of the same sort of evidence already in his possession, and still more to be had for the asking. But in these days one must limit the size of such undertakings. Few readers wish to wade through a long stretch of shoals in order to reach the firm ground of historical verity.
As to the ventures at conjecture which are sparingly put forth, let them be rated at their seeming worth, after the facts have been carefully studied and the opinions weighed, which have called out these ventures. They are confessedly only entitled to a claim for a certain degree, higher or lower, of probability. The status of all things in the Far East—and for the matter of that, all over the civilized world—is just now so unstable and loaded with uncertainties that no human insight can penetrate to the centre of the forces at work, and no human foresight can look far into the future.
The division of the book into two parts may seem at first sight to injure its unity. Such a division has for its result, as a matter of course, a somewhat abrupt change in the character of the material employed and in the style of its handling. The First Part is a narrative of personal observations and experiences. It gives the results, however, of a serious study of a complicated situation; and it pronounces more or less confident judgments upon a number of subordinate questions involved in the general problem of establishing satisfactory relations between two nations which are inseparably bound together—physically, socially, politically—whether for the