THE OLD BUDDHA.*

FOR some years to come the inevitable disorganization of China, her travail and perils of change, must continue to afford material for many writers and a subject of absorbing interest for every student of social and political economics. The spectacle of this vast mass of anachronisms suddenly impelled to adapt itself to an entirely new environment presents, indeed, features without parallel in the history of mankind ; the soul of a people that has brooded through long centuries of isolation is to be changed, it seems, like a garment by the magic of new names and the sudden col- lapse of a dynasty outworn. The works of European writers who have witnessed the passing of the Manchu and the birth of the Republic during the past half-year display, for the most part, a sympathetic enthusiasm for Young China's • Two Yearm in the Forbiddon City. By Trinoosa Der Ling. London: T. Fisher Unwin. LlOs. lid, not.) aspirations ; a pathetic belief in the vision of this ancient people passing, without preparation or training, in one splendid, leap from medievalism to the forefront of modernity. Sun. Yat-sen's Utopian visions of a new heaven and a new earth, to

be attained by the drafting of a Republican Constitution and a new code of laws, arc apparently accepted as practical politics by many observers, the great gulf between constructive and destructive formulae being overlooked in an infectious atmo- sphere of headlong enthusiasm. Even so it was in Turkey four

years ago. But already there are evidences of a soberer judg- ment of men and events; the most optimistic observer is being compelled to recognition of that inexorable law which requires nations and individuals alike to reap as they have sown. The

voices of yesterday spoke of peace and progress ; those of to-morrow will assess the wages of ignorance, inefficiency, and indiscipline. The Empire that was held together, ia

eistremis, by the statecraft of Tzii Hsi, last of the Manchus, is now given over to anarchy, its burden of misrule grievously

increased by the swarm of greedy politicians, wind-fed students, and lawless soldiery who profess to represent the Chinese people. The books of to-day reflect the dream ; those of to-morrow will confess the sad. truth that before a nation is ready for self-government it must have learned self- discipline.

From contemplation of the present condition of the Flowery Kingdom, from all its chaos of lawlessness and looting, we turn with melancholy relief to Princess Der Ling's Two Years

in the Forbidden City—a timely farewell glimpse of the Manchu Court's life at Wan Shou Shan, the Summer Palace of Tzii Hsi. This charmingly naive and intimate description

of the Old Buddha in the twilight days of the Dragon Throne (1903 to 1905) makes no pretence of adding anything to our knowledge of the political history of that period ; it is essen- tially a human document, a picture of the great Empress,

drawn from life by her first lady-in-waiting, without much art, perhaps, but without artifice ; an intelligent, sympathetic, and wholly delightful narrative. Here, in a series of vivid impres-

sions, we see the fantastic shadow-play of the Chinese. Court in its summer pleasaunce by the K'un Ming Lake ; we see the polished surface of the mysterious life of the Forbidden City and catch glimpses of the dark shadow's of human passion, lust, and greed that lurked beneath ; behind the curtains of rigid etiquette we hear the laughter and the terrified whispers of a very human comedy.

The personality of the authoress—exotic product of Manchu parentage and Parisian education—adds no little to the charm of her book : delightful and unexpected are the effects which the Old Buddha and the lady-in-waiting produce on each other. Here East and West meet on a common ground of femininity under conditions unusually picturesque ; and the

sang pur Oriental autocrat has much to ask and much to learn of the lady from Paris. It did not take long for the

irresistible charm of the Old Buddha, that "benign mother" side of her nature to which all testify who knew her, to win the heart of the daughter of Yil Kong, and "to make her so extremely happy there that even Paris pleasures went out of her memory entirely."

Tzii. Hsi's character, as depicted in these pages, confirms the judgment of the diarist, Ching Shan, comptroller of her house- hold, who attributed to her "all the courage of a man and more than the ordinary man's intelligence"; who also said that " when in a good mood she was the most amiable and tractable of

women, but at times her rage was awful to witness." Tail Hsi, it is true, was evidently at pains to conceal from her lady-in- waiting the ruthless and vindictive side of her nature; to appear to her as the tender-hearted and benevolent Old Buddha, utterly incapable of the crimes of which malicious people had accused her. She seems, indeed, to have keenly resented the charges of barbaric cruelty brought against her

by Europeans. It is possible that in her old age she repented her of these evils; but it is far more probable that this attitude was merely one of many manifestations of her infinite capacity for deceiving herself and others. The ladies-in-waiting are frequently instrncted in the gentle art of bamboozling the foreigner:

" I am sorry you have to eat standing " (says Tali Hsi on one occasion), " but I cannot break the law of our great ancestors. Even the young Empress cannot sit in my presence, I am surd the foreigners must think wo aro barbarians to treat our Court ladies in this way, and I don't wish them to know anything about our customs. You will see how differently I act in their presence, so that they cannot see my true self."

And, again, when making kindly arrangements for the reception of Miss Carl (who visited the Palace to paint her portrait for the St. Louis Exhibition) the Old Buddha says to her lady-in-waiting :— " We can treat her as a prisoner without her knowing it, but it will all depend on your mother, your sister, and yourself to act for me in this matter. Each of you will have to play your part very carefully, and I mine also."

Even in this intimacy of her private life, in her pastimes and domestic affairs, Tzii Hsi displayed those Napoleonic qualities which made her for half a century the unchallenged ruler of China, and she suffered, like Napoleon, from the defects of those very qualities. Prudent in counsel, of many devices, her ambition and her curiosity were alike insatiable. Autocrat to her finger-tips, she loved to play Madame Sans- gene ; her extraordinary mastery of detail led her often into undignified fussiness; her love of luxury and display struggled with a very bourgeois instinct of housewifely thrift. Beneath her tenderness for birds and flowers and dogs, beneath her lovable and gentle ways, lurked memories and possibilities of elemental passions untamed. All these things stand out clearly from the narrative of Princess Der Ling, and with them many a delightful vignette of that strange life of the Forbidden City which has now passed for ever. Take, for instance, this picture of a spring cleaning in the Palace :— " Everything had to be taken down and thoroughly overhauled, and all the images, pictures, furniture, and everything else were subjected to a thorough scrubbing. Her Majesty again consulted her book in order to choose a lucky day on which to commence these operations, finally choosing the twelfth day as being most favourable. As we had all received our orders previously, we com- menced early on the morning of the twelfth. Several of the Court ladies were told off to take down and clean the images of Buddha and prepare new curtains for them. The rest of the cleaning was done by the eunuchs. I asked Her Majesty whether I was to clean her jewellery, but she answered that as nobody but herself over wore it it didn't need cleaning."

And this description of a New Year's entertainment

"The evening was spent in music and enjoyment, and was carried on right through the night, none of us going to bed. At Her Majesty's suggestion we commenced gambling with dice, Her Majesty providing each of us with money, sometimes as much as $200. She told us to be serious about it, and to try and win, but of course we took good care not to win from Her Majesty. When Her Majesty began to tire, sho stopped the game and said : Now, all this money I have won I am going to throw on the floor, and you girls can scramble for it.' We knew that she wanted to see some fun, so we fought for it as hard as we could."

Small wonder that Tzii Hsi believed her life to be far more interesting and eventful than that of Queen Victoria.