Zhong Wen: In the early modern period, the three-century-long wave of “China fever”—spreading widely from the 16th to the 19th century—is a famous example. In the late stage of the Renaissance and the early Enlightenment, before the radical historians (like Rousseau) came to dominate European intellectual life, this “golden age” (from Montaigne, Vico, Herder, and Goethe to the era of Haydn and Mozart) was an age in which Chinese and Western civilizations mutually transmitted and exchanged with each other.

Between 1585 and the end of the 16th century—within only twenty years—Mendoza’s History of the Great Chinese Empire was reprinted repeatedly, eventually reaching thirty editions. Around this time, the great French thinker Montaigne (Michel Eyquem de Montaigne, 1533–1592), one of the founders of modern philosophy and the modern essay, annotated the French edition of this work and wrote: “The government and arts of the Chinese Empire surpass ours in many outstanding respects. Chinese history shows us how vast and endlessly varied the world is. Neither our predecessors nor we ourselves have fully understood it. The Chinese send imperial commissioners throughout the realm, punishing corrupt officials and rewarding the upright.”

From Montaigne’s remarks about China, we can see his understanding of Chinese society, his criticism of Europe’s current condition, and his awareness of the world’s vast and varied civilizations beyond Europe.

The scientist Scaliger (Joseph Justus Scaliger, 1540–1609), in a 1587 letter to Montaigne, said that compared to “this admirable kingdom” of China, “we French are far too small.” Not only can the French not live in harmony among themselves, “we kill one another,” whereas the Chinese “live contentedly, with orderly laws.” For this reason alone, Scaliger said, the Chinese could rightly reproach the French, making them “ashamed beyond measure.”

The philosopher and scientist Leibniz (Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, 1646–1716) not only studied Confucian thought and Chinese civilization on his own, but also actively promoted the establishment of academies—especially for scientific and Sinological research—in Germany, Austria, Russia, and Poland. He even wrote to the Kangxi Emperor suggesting that such an academy be founded in Beijing. Unfortunately, the Qing court failed to follow the trend of the age. In 1700, when Leibniz became the first president of the Berlin Academy of Sciences, he clearly advocated using the academy as a pivot “to open the gate of China and facilitate the exchange between European and Chinese cultures.”

Bo Ya: Leibniz greatly admired China’s Confucian-centered model of benevolent governance and its system of social relations regulated by li (ritual propriety): “I fear that if things continue this way, we will soon fall behind the Chinese in all that is worthy of praise.… In view of the sharp decline of our morals, I believe it would be quite necessary for China to send missionaries to teach us the practice of natural theology, just as we send missionaries to teach them revealed theology.”

Zhong Wen: What Leibniz said is exceptionally clear. The natural theology embedded in Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism shares resonances with the Christian theology of divine revelation. Dialogue and integration between them is entirely possible—just as, in the Tang dynasty, high officials like Chancellor Fang Xuanling and General Guo Ziyi could simultaneously be statesmen, Confucian scholars, and adherents of the then newly introduced Christian sect.

Leibniz advocated that Chinese and Western civilizations “exchange our respective abilities and jointly kindle the lamp of wisdom.” Situated at opposite ends of the Eurasian continent, Europe and China possessed humankind’s greatest cultures and most advanced civilizations. These two most civilized yet most distant nations, once united, could gradually lead the peoples in between toward a more rational life: “East–West relations are an important medium for unifying the world.”

The historian of science Joseph Needham wrote: “The stream of ideas that flowed into Europe with Leibniz promoted the modern widespread embrace of organic naturalism.”

After Leibniz, Voltaire (François-Marie de Voltaire, 1694–1778) praised China as “the most beautiful, the most ancient, the most extensive, the most populous, and the best-governed country in the world,” excelling especially in political administration and moral cultivation. “The Chinese early possessed knowledge and practical skill in all things useful to society. Although not as advanced in science as we are today, they have made morality sublime and perfect—and morality is what science depends upon first of all.”

He revered Confucius as “the only true master of mankind.” Confucianism teaches people to cultivate virtue and use universal reason to restrain selfish desires, thereby creating a peaceful and happy society. It is for this reason, Voltaire argued, that China had remained stable and prosperous for over two thousand years: “In these two matters (morality and governance), China has already achieved perfection.”

Bo Ya: Voltaire judged that China’s political system was not despotism but monarchy limited by law. This is clearly a misinterpretation. He further (and mistakenly) concluded that Chinese enlightened monarchy—or constitutional monarchy—was the best possible form of government, and that “no organization of government superior to that of China could be devised by human wisdom.” He claimed Chinese moral, political, and legal systems formed a model of justice and benevolence. It appears Voltaire had little real understanding of Chinese history.

Zhong Wen: Voltaire and others regarded Chinese culture as the most rational and humane, containing both rationalist and humanistic spirit. Their views differed from the radical Enlightenment of Rousseau. Instead, they represented the moderate and enlightened branch:
“Confucius became the patron saint of the Enlightenment.… In the psychology of Europeans, a widely accepted concept of China gradually formed, one that was held as a model.… From China they discovered an entirely new moral world.”

Bo Ya: What is even more absurd is that Quesnay, Mirabeau, Goethe, and others believed they had discovered “the soul of the Chinese people” under the barbaric Manchu regime.

Zhong Wen: Quesnay (François Quesnay, 1694–1774), revered as “the Confucius of Europe,” found in China’s economic system the theoretical foundation for his Physiocracy. Using this, he sought to reform France’s mercantilist policies since the era of Louis XIV. In his 1767 essay The Despotic Government of China, he wrote: “Without agriculture, societies can only form imperfect nations. Only agrarian peoples can, under a stable and unified government, build enduring states that directly follow the immutable order of natural law. Thus agriculture itself forms the foundation of such states and determines their form of governance.… The development or decline of agriculture necessarily depends on the form of government.”

Quesnay recognized agriculture as the fundamental “first industry” in national economics and observed the intimate link between agricultural production and political structures—precisely the institutional foundation of Chinese civilization:
“In China, tenant-farmers enjoy a higher status than merchants and artisans.… This single, modest agricultural tax has been followed by the government for many centuries as a basic principle.”

In other words, a civilization that takes agriculture as its foundation and whose national policy favors agricultural development is the one most compatible with “natural order” and “natural law.”
The broad Chinese Empire’s political and moral systems, Quesnay wrote, were based on a deep understanding of these natural laws and therefore “can serve as a model for all nations.”

Bo Ya: Quesnay explained why he used the term “despotism” for China: “It is because the monarch holds supreme authority.” But he added: “The Chinese system is founded upon wise and immutable laws, which the emperor carries out with prudence and fidelity.” Therefore, the rule of this empire is “as stable and enlightened as the universal and fundamental laws upon which it is based.”

Quesnay’s view of a monarch holding absolute power applies mainly to the Ming and Qing after the abolition of the chancellorship—especially the Qing. In the Ming dynasty, however, grand secretaries, the Six Ministries, and even ordinary officials and citizens participated in governance through court debates, remonstrance, memorials, and the censorate. Ricci’s China in the Sixteenth Century (Book I, Chapter 6, “Government Organization”) provides firsthand observations. At most, Quesnay’s “despotism” could be called “enlightened despotism” or “classical constitutionalism.”

Zhong Wen: Quesnay’s disciple Mirabeau, a famous intellectual and political leader, went even further. At Quesnay’s funeral he declared:
“The entire doctrine of Confucius lies in restoring the brightness and beauty of human nature bestowed by Heaven but obscured by ignorance and selfish desire.… To this great moral and religious teaching, nothing can be added.”

Quesnay himself, after examining China’s systems of education, civil service examinations, remonstrance, the scholar-official bureaucracy, and the judiciary, concluded:
“A prosperous and enduring government ought to follow the model of the Chinese Empire.”

After more than three centuries of effort, a complete “image of China” had taken shape in Europe—built through missionaries’ research and Enlightenment thinkers’ interpretations. Leibniz revealed its philosophical foundation; Voltaire, its political and social structure; Quesnay, its economic and institutional basis.

By the 18th century, “China fever” reached new heights. Chinese influence swept through cuisine, interior decoration, clothing, gardens, architecture, painting, decorative arts, literature, and the humanities—forming the trend known as chinoiserie.

Its impact was so great that Goethe (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 1749–1832), after reading Chinese literature, famously predicted that “the age of world literature is arriving,” adding that China’s strict moral discipline “has sustained the nation for thousands of years and will sustain it still.” In his Chinese–German Seasons and Hours, he wrote: “Wherever my eyes turn, I see the East.”

Bo Ya: People say the deep reason for the decline of the three-century-long “China fever” was the Qing government’s rigid, repressive, and stagnant policies, which caused China’s national strength and international image to deteriorate, while the formerly backward European nations—such as Britain and Germany—were actively borrowing Confucian ideas and promoting openness. Thus they overtook China and surpassed it. I believe China fell behind mainly because the Qing “blocked reform and opening”—a retrograde behavior similar to the contemporary Communist Party.

Zhong Wen: American scholar David E. Mungello, in The Great Encounter of China and the West (1500–1800), ends the book with a striking and ironic description of the 1793 Macartney mission’s audience with the Qianlong Emperor at the Jehol summer palace—a scene marking the close of the fruitful 1500–1800 encounter.

Although China’s grandeur remained visible—the solemn arrangement, exquisite furnishings, numerous attendants, and tight control over foreign envoys—signs of decline were already apparent. Qianlong was aging, and his senility deepened his infatuation with a handsome young guard whose face reminded him of a lost concubine. That guard was none other than the corrupt official Heshen, whose greed worsened China’s late-18th-century decline. Macartney saw these symptoms clearly, comparing China to a huge but drifting vessel, floating dangerously.

Although his embassy ended in diplomatic failure, the East India Company considered the valuable intelligence gathered worth the expense.

Bo Ya: Qianlong’s so-called “prosperous age” was gold on the outside but rotten within. And now, in 2024, China has abandoned the virtue of “restraint,” causing society to slip rapidly into a crisis—while still declaring itself a “prosperous age.”