Chapter XXIV: Her Majesty’s New Policy

The crisis of 1900, all the horror of that abomination of desolation in her Capital and the hardships of her wandering in the wilderness, had brought home to the Empress the inherent weakness of her country and the stern necessity for remedial measures. Already, before the issue of the penitential Decree, quoted in an earlier chapter, she had announced to the world, with characteristic decision, her intention to adopt new measures and to break with those hoary traditions of the past which, as she had learned, were the first cause of the rottenness of the State. Her subsequent policy became in fact (though she was careful never to admit it) a justification of those very measures which the Emperor had so enthusiastically inaugurated in 1898, but her methods differed from his in that she omitted no precaution for conciliating the conflicting interests about the Throne and for disarming the opposition of the _intransigeants_ of the provinces.

The first intimation of Her Majesty’s conversion to new ideals of Government was given to the world in an Edict issued at Hsi-an on the 28th January, 1901, in the name of the Emperor. This document, drafted with the assistance of Jung Lu, is a remarkable example of Tzŭ Hsi’s masculine intelligence and statecraft, though somewhat marred by those long-winded repetitions in which Chinese Edicts abound. It was received with enthusiastic delight by the _literati_ throughout the Empire, even in Canton and the southern provinces, where, at the moment, Her Majesty was not personally popular. The vernacular Press claimed it as the most striking Edict in Chinese history. It combined an eloquent appeal to the people to accept the principle of reform together with a masterful justification of China and her people _vis-à-vis_ the outside world. It was most skilfully worded so as to placate all parties in the State and thus to enhance the reputation of the Old Buddha. The “Young China” party was particularly enthusiastic, for by this Decree Her Majesty definitely abandoned the principle of absolute autocracy which had been for centuries the corner-stone of the Chinese system of government. It was realised that so complete a departure from the traditions of the Manchu Dynasty, of the Imperial Clan and of all her previous convictions, could not have been attained but for the bitter lessons of 1900, and, admiration was therefore the more keen for the skill and courage with which, on the verge of old age, she resumed the burden of government in her ravaged capital. It was the ruling passion bravely asserted, and the sympathy of the nation could hardly be withheld from a ruler who thus bore her share in the national humiliation, who so frankly accepted responsibility for past errors and promised new and better methods for the future.

It was, of course, inevitable, in the light of all experience, that many of her subjects, as well as most foreigners, should doubt her sincerity, and should regard this Edict, like many others, as a case of “when the devil was sick.” But gradually, after the return of the Court, as it became clear to her immediate retainers and high officials that this self-confident woman was really in earnest, and as she continued steadily to impress her new policy upon the reluctant Clansmen, her popularity with the people at large, and especially in the south (where it had been much damaged by her fierce suppression of the Cantonese reformers of 1898), was gradually restored. From this time forward to the end of her life, whatever may have been the good or bad faith of her advisers and chief officials, every act of her career is stamped with unmistakable signs of her sincerity in the cause of reform, borne out by her recorded words and deeds.

From the Boxer movement she had learned at a bitter cost the lesson she was now putting into practice, but for all that she remained to the end faithful in her affection for the memory of the Boxer leaders; to the last she never failed to praise their loyalty to her person and the patriotic bravery of their attempt to expel the foreigner. But she had been compelled to learn in the hard school of experience the utter hopelessness of that attempt, and she was forced to the conclusion that, for the future, and until China should be strong enough, all anti-foreign proceedings must be suppressed.

Unflinchingly, therefore, she announced to her people a change of front unparalleled in the history of China. Certain it is (as was fully proved in the case of the Emperor in 1898) that no other ruler of the Dynasty could have proclaimed such drastic changes without causing serious dissensions and possibly civil war. But so masterly were her methods of dealing with the necessities of the situation, and so forcibly did the style and arguments of her Decrees appeal to the _literati_, that they carried very general conviction. Even the most bigoted Confucianists were won by her subtle suggestions as to what would have been the attitude of the Sage himself if confronted by such problems as the nation had now to face.

The text of the Decree recording her conversion is interesting:—

“Throughout the entire universe there exist certain fixed
principles which govern the conduct of men, but nowhere do we
find any finally fixed form of government. It is written in
the Book of Changes[122] that when any given condition of
affairs has run its natural course, and has been succeeded by
another, there is no saying how long this new state may last;
also in the Dialogues of Confucius it is written, that there
is no difficulty in tracing the changes and reforms which each
Dynasty has made in regard to the methods of its predecessors.
Certain things remain ever unchanged, namely, the three
fundamental bonds, between Sovereign and subject, father and
son, husband and wife; also the five great moral obligations.
These vary not, but are all as the sun and moon, enlightening
the world. But in other matters there should be no fixed
objection to change, no hide-bound finality of ideas; to obtain
music from a lute or guitar one must touch all the strings.
Each Dynasty in turn, since the beginning of time, has seen fit
to introduce changes and has abolished certain customs of its
predecessors; our own ancestors have set us many an example in
modifying their conduct to meet the exigencies of their day.
The system which prevailed at the date when first the Manchus
captured Peking was very different from that in vogue when
Moukden was the capital of our Empire.

“Looking at the matter broadly, we may observe that any system
which has lasted too long is in danger of becoming stereotyped,
and things that are obsolete should be modified. The essential
need which confronts us is at all costs to strengthen our
Empire and to improve the condition of our subjects. Ever
since our journey to the West the Empress Dowager has been
over-burdened with the labours and cares of the State.[123]

“Bitterly have we reproached ourselves with the thought that
for the past twenty years abuses have steadily been increasing,
while means of suppressing them have been continually put off
until, at last, the state of our country has become parlous
indeed. At this moment, when peace negotiations are proceeding,
it is a matter of urgent necessity that steps be taken to
reorganise our system of government so that hereafter our
Celestial Empire may recover its ancient place of wealth and
power. The Empress Dowager has now decided that we should
correct our shortcomings by adopting the best methods and
systems which obtain in foreign countries, basing our future
conduct upon a wise recognition of past errors.

“Ever since the 23rd and 24th years of Kuang Hsü (1897
and 1898) there has been no lack of plans for reform, and
suggestions of administrative change, but they have all been
marked by vagueness and foolish looseness of thought. The
crisis which was brought about in 1898 by the arch-traitor
K’ang Yu-wei was in its possible consequences even more
dangerous than the evil which has since been brought about
by the unholy arts of the Boxers. To this day Kang and his
associates continue to preach treason and to disturb the public
mind by means of their writings from overseas. The object of
their writings is simply anarchy, nor do they scruple to use
catchwords which, while apparently appealing to the patriotism
of our people, are really intended to create dissension. Thus
they talk of the “defence of the Empire” and the “protection
of the Chinese race,” and many of their dupes fail to realise
that their main object is not reform, but a revolution against
the Manchu Dynasty, and that they hope to create ill-feeling
between the Empress Dowager and the Emperor. With treacherous
cunning those conspirators took advantage of our weak state of
health, and we were therefore glad when at our urgent request
Her Majesty the Empress Dowager resumed the Regency. With
amazing rapidity she grasped all the needs of the situation and
delivered us from imminent peril, visiting swift punishment
upon those traitors. But, whilst ridding the State of these
evil-doers it was never Her Majesty’s wish or intention
to block reform measures, whilst we, on our side, though
recognising the necessity for change in certain directions,
were never guilty of any desire to abolish all the ancient ways
of our ancestors. Our loyal subjects must recognise that it has
been Her Majesty’s invariable wish, and our own, to follow the
happy mean, we, as mother and son, being in complete accord, to
steer a wise middle course between conflicting policies.

“We have to-day received Her Majesty’s orders, and learn that
she is now thoroughly bent on radical reform. Nevertheless,
whilst we are convinced of the necessity of blending in
one harmonious form of administration the best customs and
traditions of Chinese and European Governments, there is to
be no talk of reaction or revolution. The chief defect in our
system of administration is undoubtedly too close an adherence
to obsolete methods, a too slavish devotion to the written
word; the result is a surfeit of commonplace and inefficient
officials, and a deplorable lack of men of real talent. The
average commonplace man makes a god of the written word,
whilst every bureaucrat in the land regards it as a talisman
wherewith to fill his purse, so that we have huge mountains
of correspondence eternally growing up between one government
office and another, the value of which is absolutely _nil_
so far as any good to the country is concerned. On the other
hand men of real ability lose heart and give up the public
service in disgust, prevented from coming to the front by the
mass of inefficiency that blocks the way. Our whole system of
government has come to grief through corruption, and the first
steps of progress in our Empire are clogged by the fatal word
‘Precedent.’

“Up to the present the study of European methods has gone
no further than a superficial knowledge of the languages,
literature and mechanical arts of the West, but it must be
evident that these things are not the essentials upon which
European civilisation has been founded. The essential spirit
of that civilisation is to be looked for in the fact that
real sympathy and understanding exists between rulers and
people, that officials are required to be truthful in word
and courageous in action. The teachings handed down to us by
our sacred ancestors are really the same as those upon which
the wealth and power of European countries have been based,
but China has hitherto failed to realise this and has been
content to acquire the rudiments of European languages or
technicalities, while changing nothing of her ancient habits
of inefficiency and deep-rooted corruption. Ignoring our real
needs we have so far taken from Europe nothing but externals;
how can we possibly hope to advance on such lines? Any reforms
to be effective and permanent must be made with a real desire
for efficiency and honesty.

“We therefore hereby decree and command that the officials
concerned shall now make close enquiry and comparison as
to the various systems of government in force in European
countries with special reference to those which obtain in China
to-day, not only as regards the constitution of the Court and
central government, but also concerning those things which
make for the prosperity of our subjects, such as the system of
examinations and education, the administration of the army and
the regulation of finance. They will be required to report as
to what changes are advisable and what institutions should be
abolished; what methods we should adopt from abroad and what
existing Chinese institutions should be retained. The things we
chiefly need are a constant supply of men of talent, a sound
basis of national finance, and an efficient army. Reports on
these matters must be forwarded within two months, and upon
them we shall humbly address Her Majesty, and ask for her
decision before we take any definite action.

“Whilst the Court was in residence at T’ai-yüan we urgently
called upon our subjects to assist us, and many Memorials were
received, but as a general rule the advice they tendered was
either stupid plagiarism taken from newspaper articles or else
the narrow and bigoted views of untravelled scholars. They
frequently sounded quite reasonable, but were in reality sheer
nonsense, their principal characteristic being overweening
conceit, which effectively prevented any breadth of argument.
Very few of the suggestions advanced were practicable, for
the reason that in recommending any course of action writers
laid stress upon its alleged advantages without realising its
drawbacks. There are many who talk glibly of reform and the
wealth and power of foreign States, but deceive themselves
as to the real origin of all knowledge; on the other hand
your bigoted Confucianist will discourse endlessly upon the
doctrines of the Sages, without in the least realising the
needs of the present day. It is now for you, our officials, to
steer a reasonable midway course, avoiding both these defects
in submitting your proposals. We desire that your views shall
be elaborated in the fullest detail for our consideration in
determining upon a course of action.

“The first essential, however, more important even than the
devising of new systems, is to secure men of administrative
ability. Without talent no system can be made to succeed. If
the letter of our projected reforms be not illuminated and
guided by this spirit of efficiency in our officials then must
all our hopes of reforming the State disappear into the limbo
of lost ideals. We fully recognise that foolish adherence
to the system of promotion by seniority has been one of the
main factors in bringing about a condition of affairs that
is almost incurable. If we would now be rid of it, our first
step evidently is to think no more of selfish interests, but
to consider the commonwealth only and to secure efficiency
by some new and definite method, so that competent persons
only may be in charge of public affairs. But if you, our
officials, continue to cling to your ancient ways, following
the ruts of procrastination and slothful ease; should you
persist in evading responsibility, serving the State with empty
catch-words while you batten on the fruits of your misdeeds,
assuredly the punishment which the law provides stands ready,
and no mercy will be shown you! Let this Decree be promulgated
throughout the land.”

It will be observed that in this Decree the Emperor is made to renounce and condemn the Reformers of 1898 and all their works. This, however sincerely convinced Her Majesty might be of the necessity for remedial measures, was only natural. For it was never one of the weaknesses of this masterful woman to make direct confession of error for the benefit of her own immediate entourage; not thus is prestige maintained in the atmosphere of an Oriental Court. She was now prepared to adopt many of the reforms which K’ang Yu-wei and his friends had advocated, but for all-important purposes of “face” it must be made quite clear that, in her hands, they were something radically different and superior. In promulgating her new opinions she could not afford to say anything which might be construed as direct justification of that reform movement which she herself had so ruthlessly suppressed. And so the “stupid people” must clearly understand that her present programme was by no means “revolutionary” like that of K’ang Yu-wei and his fellow-“conspirators.” Nevertheless, her proposals for reform went as far as theirs, and, in some cases, even further, the only real difference being that in this case she, the Old Buddha, was a prime mover, where before she had been an opponent.

Looking back on the six years of her life and rule which followed the return from exile, there can be but little doubt of the sincerity of her conversion to reform, although there is no reason to believe that her sentiments towards foreigners had undergone any change for the better. The lesson which had been brought home to her with crushing force in the rise and fall of the Boxer movement and in the capture of Peking, was that national inefficiency means national extinction, a lesson which not all the statesmen of western lands have fully learned. She had realised that the material forces of the western world were not to be met and overthrown by quotations from the classics, and that, if China was to continue to exist as an independent State she must follow the example of Japan and put her house in order with equipment and defences adapted from western models. And with Tzŭ Hsi to realise was to act, a quality which, more than all others, distinguished her from the ruck of her Manchu kinsmen and officials, sunk in their lethargic fatalism and helplessness.

The situation which confronted her at the outset was anything but simple. Apart from the time-honoured privileges of the Imperial clans, whose arrogant ignorance she had come to appreciate at its proper value, she must needs be cautious in handling the susceptibilities of the provincial gentry and _literati_, the backbone of China’s collective intelligence. At the same time, as far as the foreign Powers were concerned, she must be careful to preserve to the full that dignity on which her prestige with her own people depended, that “_l’empire c’est moi_” attitude which had been rudely shaken by the events of 1900. Not as the chastened penitent would she appear in their eyes, but as the innocent and injured victim of circumstances beyond her control. There were, in fact, several distinct rôles to be played, and none of them were easy.

The Edict issued from Hsi-an in February 1901 had been warmly applauded by scholars throughout the Empire as a literary feat of the first order, but most of the provincial officials (justified by all tradition and experience) regarded it as merely a classical “obiter dictum,” and proceeded, therefore, in their old way, certain in their minds that the Old Buddha was only amusing herself, as was her wont, by throwing dust in the eyes of the barbarian, and that she would not be displeased if her lieutenants were to proceed slowly in carrying them into effect. Unto the end, even in the face of the earnest exhortations of her valedictory Decree, there were many provincial officials who, for reasons of personal prejudice and self-interest, professed to believe that the Old Buddha had been merely playing a part, but we can find nothing in her official or private record during these six years to justify that belief. Just before her return to Peking she issued an Edict in which her own convictions were very clearly indicated:—

“Ever since my sudden departure from the capital a year ago,”
she declared, “I have not ceased for a moment to brood over the
causes of our national misfortunes and to feel deep remorse.
Now, thanks to the protection of our tutelary deities, I am
about to return to the capital. Whenever I think of the reasons
for our undoing and the causes of our collective weakness I
sincerely deplore the fact that I have not long ago introduced
the necessary reforms, but I am now fully determined to put
in force all possible measures for the reform of the State.
Abandoning our former prejudices, we must proceed to adopt the
best European methods of government. I am firmly determined to
work henceforward on practical lines, so as to deliver the
Empire from its present rotten state. Some of the necessary
measures will naturally require longer periods of preparation
than others, but after my return to Peking they must one and
all gradually be introduced.

“In view of the urgent importance of this matter, Jung Lu and
his colleagues have urged me to make a clear statement of my
intentions and to declare without possibility of hesitation
or doubt the irrevocable decision of the Throne, so that
every official in the land may be stimulated to sincere and
unremitting co-operation. For this reason I issue the present
Decree solemnly recording my opinion that the condition of the
Empire permits of no further evasion or delay in the matter
of reform. Therein lies our only hope for the future. Myself
and the Emperor, in the interests of all that we hold dear,
have no alternative but to face, and steadily to pursue, this
new policy; we must make up our minds what are the things to
strive for, and employ the right men to help us to attain them.
We are, as mother and son, of one mind, endeavouring only to
restore our fallen fortunes. You, our people, can best serve by
united efforts to this end.”

Tzŭ Hsi had not only realised the immense superiority of the material forces of the western world, but she had also been convinced of the immense intellectual and political forces which education and increased means of communication were steadily creating amongst her own subjects, forces with which, as she perceived, the effete and ignorant Manchus would have to reckon sooner or later. It is quite plain from her Edicts on this delicate subject that she realised clearly the dangers which threatened the Manchu rule. She saw that their class privileges, the right to tribute, and all the other benefits of sovereignty which the founders of the Dynasty had won by force of arms and opportunity, had now become an anachronism, and must in the near future involve the Manchus themselves in serious dangers and difficulties, unless, by fusion, means could be found to avert them. Among the rules laid down by the founders of the Dynasty for the maintenance of the pure Manchu stock, was that which forbade intermarriage with Chinese. This law, though frequently violated in the garrisons of the south, had remained generally effective within the Metropolitan province, where it had served its purpose of maintaining the ruling class and its caste. But the Empress had now come to understand that if China was to be preserved as a sovereign State, it must be rather by means of Chinese energy and intelligence grafted on to the Manchu stock, than by the latter’s separate initiative. In January 1902, immediately after her return to Peking, she gave effect to her convictions on this subject in a remarkable Decree whereby she recommended that, for the future, Manchus and Chinese should intermarry. “At the time of the founding of our Dynasty,” she says, “the customs and languages of the two races were greatly different, and this was in itself reason sufficient for prohibiting intermarriage. But at the present day, little or no difference exists between them, and the time has come, therefore, to relax this law for the benefit of the Empire as a whole, and in accordance with the wishes of our people.” In the same Edict Her Majesty deprecated the Chinese custom, which the Manchus had never adopted, of foot-binding, and urged that the educated classes should unite to oppose a custom so injurious to health and inhuman in practice. There was, however, to be no compulsion in this matter. In one respect only did she desire to adhere to the exclusive Manchu traditions, namely, as regards the selection of secondary wives for the Imperial harem, who must continue to be chosen exclusively from Manchu families; she did not desire “to incur any risk of confusion or dissension in the Palace, nor to fall into the error committed by the Ming Dynasty, in the indiscriminate selection of concubines, a matter affecting the direct and legitimate succession to the Throne.” Nor would she expose her kinsmen to the risk of conspiracy against the Dynasty which would certainly occur if the daughters of the great Chinese houses were admitted to the Palace. The law had been laid down once and for all by Nurhachu, and it was binding on every occupant of the Dragon Throne, namely, “no Manchu eunuchs, no Chinese concubines.”

Her next step, in a decree which frankly deplored the hopeless ignorance of her kinsmen, was to authorise the Imperial clansmen and nobles to send their sons to be educated abroad, so that perchance the lump of their inefficiency might yet be leavened. Eligible youths, between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five, and of good physique, were to be selected and their expenses would be defrayed by the Government.

This much for the Manchus; but in regard to the whole question of education, which she declared to be the very root of all China’s difficulties, she perceived, after prolonged consultations with Yüan Shih-k’ai and Chang Chih-tung, that so long as the classical system continued, with its strong hold of tradition upon the masses, it must constitute the chief obstacle to any effective reform of the body politic. After much careful deliberation she decided that unless the whole system of classical examinations were abolished, root and branch, no tinkering with western learning could be of any practical use. The ancient system of arguing in a circle, which for over two centuries had characterised the ideal essay and hypnotised the ideal official, must undoubtedly triumph over all other educational methods, so long as it remained part of the official curriculum. Her Majesty took pains to point out by Edict that colleges had undoubtedly existed in the days of that model ruler, the Regent Duke Chou, more than two thousand five hundred years ago, on lines not greatly different from those of the foreign Universities of the present day; she proved also that the classical essay system was, so to speak, quite a recent innovation, having been introduced for the first time under the Ming Dynasty, about A.D. 1390. Eventually, in 1904, upon the advice of Yüan Shih-k’ai, approved by Chang Chih-tung, a Decree was issued finally abolishing the old system of examinations and making graduation at one of the modern colleges the only recognised path to official employment. At the same time, realising that the training of students in Japan, which had been proceeding on a very large scale, had produced a body of revolutionary scholars most undesirable in the eyes of the Government, she gave orders that arrangements should be made for sending more students in future to Europe and America.

This epoch-making announcement was followed by several other important Decrees, notably that which ordered the complete abolition of the opium traffic within a period of ten years, a Decree, which, embodying a sincere and powerful consensus of public opinion, has produced most unexpected results, marvellously creditable to the moral sense and recuperative energies of the Chinese race. The contrast is most striking between the widespread reform effected under this Edict, and the almost complete failure of those which set forth to reform the Metropolitan administration; these, thanks to the steady passive resistance of the mandarin in possession, resulted merely in perpetuating the old abuses under new names. The one new Ministry created at that time, and saluted by foreigners as a sign of genuine progress, was that of Posts and Communications (Yu-Ch’uan pu), which has been a byword for corrupt practices since its establishment, and a laughing stock among the Chinese themselves for inefficiency and extravagance.

After dealing with education, the Old Buddha turned her attention to a question which had frequently figured in recent Memorials of progressive officials, namely, the abolition of torture and other abuses prevalent in the so-called judicial system of the Empire. She realised that if China were ever to obtain the consent of the western Powers to the abolition of the foreigner’s rights of extra-territoriality, she must devise and enforce civil and criminal codes similar to those of civilised countries. Her Edict on this subject, though in form excellent, seems to lack something of the conviction which marks her other Decrees of this period; it is very different, for instance, from those dealing with the abolition of opium and the reform of education. Its principles were obviously contrary to all her previous ideas and practice, and it is only fair to say that its result, in spite of much drafting of codes, has been little or none, as far as the barbarous practices of the provincial Yamêns are concerned. She decreed that, pending the introduction of the criminal code, decapitation should be the extreme penalty of the law; dismemberment and mutilation were to be abolished as barbarous; branding, flogging, and the vicarious punishment of relatives were to cease. These savage penalties, she observed, were originally introduced into China under the Ming Dynasty, and had only been adopted by the Manchus, with other Chinese customs, against their own more merciful instincts.

Finally, in deference to the unmistakable and growing tendencies of public opinion in the south, Tzŭ Hsi took the first steps towards the introduction of constitutional government by sending an Imperial Commission (under Duke Tsai Tsê) to study the various systems in force in foreign countries, and their results. The return of this Mission was followed in the autumn of 1905 by the issue of the famous Decree in which she definitely announced her intention to grant a constitution, which should come into effect sooner or later, according to circumstances and the amount of energy or procrastination displayed by the officials and people in preparing themselves for the change. As an example of subtle argument calculated to appeal to the Chinese mind, the document is a masterpiece in its way. It says:—

“Ever since the foundation of the Dynasty one wise sovereign
after another has handed down sage counsels to posterity;
it has always been their guiding principle that methods
of Government should be modified and adapted to meet the
exigencies of the moment and changing conditions. China’s
great and increasing danger to-day is largely due to her
unwise adherence to antiquated methods; if we do not amend
our educational and political systems, we shall be violating
the spirit which animated our Imperial ancestors, and shall
disappoint the best hopes of our people. Our Imperial
Commissioners have reported to us that the prosperity and
power of foreign nations are largely due to principles of
constitutional government based on the will of the people,
which assures bonds of union and sympathy between the Sovereign
and his subjects. It is therefore our duty to consider by what
means such a Constitution may be granted as shall retain the
sovereign power in the hands of the Throne, and at the same
time give effect to the wishes of the people in matters of
administration. Our State being at present unprepared, and our
people uneducated, any undue haste is inadvisable, and would
lead to no practical results. We must first reform the official
system, following this by the introduction of new laws, new
methods of education, finance and military organisations,
together with a police system, so that officials and people may
come to realise what executive government means as a foundation
and preparation for the granting of a Constitution.”

It was not to be expected that even Tzŭ Hsi could frame so radical and comprehensive a programme of change without incurring the strongest opposition and criticism of those to whom the established order meant loaves and fishes: at Peking, however, owing to the absence of an outspoken press, the opposition ran beneath the surface, exercised in the time-honoured form of dogged adherence to the ancient methods by the officials and bureaucrats on whose goodwill all reform ultimately depends. Against anyone less masterful and less popular than Tzŭ Hsi the Clansmen would undoubtedly have concerted other and more forcible measures, but they knew their Old Buddha and went in wholesome fear of her wrath. It was only her exceptional position and authority that enabled her to introduce the machinery for the establishment of constitutional government, based on the Japanese model, and there is reason to believe that even at this moment many conservative Manchus do not regard that measure seriously.

But despite the promise of constitutional government, public opinion in the south, never restrained in its utterances by the free-lances of the vernacular press of Hongkong and Shanghai, was outspoken in condemnation of Her Majesty’s new policy, criticising her policy in general on the ground of her undignified truckling to Europeans. Lacking alike her masculine intelligence and courageous recognition of hard facts, making no allowance for the difficulties with which she was encompassed, and animated in many instances by a very real hatred of the Manchu rule, they attacked her in unmeasured terms of abuse; while the foreign press of the Treaty Ports, naturally suspicious of her motives and mindful of her share in the anti-foreign rising, was also generally unsympathetic, if not hostile. In both cases knowledge of the woman’s virility and vitality was lacking. Her critics failed to realise that, like most mortals, the Empress was a mixture of good and bad, of wisdom and error, largely swayed by circumstances and the human equations around her, as well as by an essentially feminine quality of mutability; but withal, and above all, a born leader of men and a politician of the very first order.

The following extracts from articles published in the Shanghai press at that time, throw an instructive light on the spirit of Young China (like that of the Babu of India) as displayed in its anti-Manchu proclivities and bigoted chauvinism. One critic, taking for his text the entertainments given by Her Majesty to the Foreign Legations, wrote:—

“There can be no objection to giving a banquet to anyone who
is likely to be grateful and show some return for hospitality,
but what possible good purpose can be served by feasting
those who treat you with suspicion? We Chinese are wont to
despise our ignorant rustics when they display servility to
foreigners, but what is to be said when one in the exalted
position of the Empress Dowager demeans herself by being on
terms of affectionate intimacy with the wives of Foreign
Ministers, and even with women belonging to the commercial and
lower classes? Nowadays foreign food is served at the Palace
in a dining-room decked out in European style: the guests at
these entertainments thank their Imperial hostess on taking
leave, and the very next day their Legations will furiously
rage against China at our Foreign Office. Therefore, as for
moderating their barbarous ways, her food and her wines are
simply wasted. As a matter of fact, these guests of hers do not
scruple to compare her banquets of to-day with the melons and
vegetables which she sent to the Legations during the siege, a
comparison by no means flattering to Her Majesty. The thing is
becoming a scandal. When Russia poured out entertainments in
honour of Li Hung-chang she got something for her money; can
it be that Her Majesty is looking to similar results in the
present case for herself?”

Another critic, nearer the truth as we know, doubted whether the Empress Dowager was in reality enamoured of foreign ways, and whether she was not simulating good relations, while preparing some deep-laid scheme of future revenge.

“It is scarcely credible,” he observed, “that, at her time of
life, she should be able to change all her habits and form ties
so completely alien to her education and nature. Would not the
foreigners naturally ask themselves whether she was likely to
cherish any real affection for people who had plundered her
palace and had forced her to hand over to the executioners her
most faithful and trusted officials?”

This writer had difficulty, however, in believing that she contemplated another Boxer movement and frankly confessed himself perplexed.

“As Her Majesty’s chief occupation at the present time would
appear to be to accumulate money at all costs rather than to
reorganise and strengthen the resources of the Empire, her
ultimate object may well be to secure that whatever happens,
her old age shall be comfortably provided for.”

Nevertheless, unheeding of criticism and strong in the wisdom of her own convictions, Tzŭ Hsi continued steadily on the lines which she had laid down as necessary for the future safety of the Empire. It was not to be expected that even her strong personality could overcome in a day the entrenched forces of native prejudice and conservatism within and without the palace. At the time of her death many of the chief strongholds of the ancient system (_e.g._, the power of the eunuchs and the organised corruption of officials) remained practically uncriticised and untouched; but at her passing she had marked out a rough course by which, if faithfully followed, the ship of State might yet be safely steered through the rocks and shallows of the dangerous seas ahead.