plishing any of its objects.

This was not the only rebuff Russia experienced at this time. The naval officer Krusenstern conceived the idea that it would be possible to attain all the objects of his sovereign, and to open up a new channel for a profitable trade by establishing communications by sea with Canton, where the Russian flag had never been seen. The Russian Government fitted out two ships for him, and he safely arrived at Canton, where he disposed of their cargoes. When it became known at Pekin that a new race of foreigners had presented themselves at Canton, a special edict was issued ordering that "all vessels belonging to any other nation than those which have been in the habit of visiting this port shall on no account whatever be permitted to trade, but merely suffered to remain in port until every circumstance is reported to us and our pleasure made known." Thus in its first attempt to add to its possession of a land trade, via Kiachta and the Mongol steppe, a share in the sea trade with Canton, Russia experienced a rude and discouraging rebuff.

The unsatisfactory state of our relations with the Chinese Government which was brought home to the British authorities by the difficulty our ships of war experienced in obtaining water and other necessary supplies on the China coast, which had generally to be obtained by force, led to the decision that another embassy should be sent to Pekin, for the purpose of effecting a better understanding. The reasoning which led to this conclusion was natural but fallacious. The home Government was much swayed in its judgment by the experience it had acquired in other Asiatic countries, especially Persia, where the rulers thought it derogatory to treat with ambassadors of a lower rank than from a sovereign. Unfortunately the Chinese reasoned in a totally different fashion. They would much rather have dealt with the East India Company's agents at Canton, as they could treat them as mere merchants who were quite content so long as they were on amicable terms with the Hoppo. They felt a very different arrangement and mode of treatment were required when they had to deal with the spokesmen of powerful and independent Empires. The pretension of foreigners that their sovereigns were on a perfect equality with the ruler of the Middle Kingdom was both inconvenient and dangerous. Embassies from States of undoubted inferiority, which were not offended at being styled tributary nations, were welcome at Pekin, but those from nations asserting a position of equality were quite beyond the comprehension of the Chinese, and as such to be deprecated and absolutely forbidden. The experience of official treatment in China was also very much against any sanguine view as to the benefits that might accrue from another mission to the capital. In favour of it there was only the reception accorded to Lord Macartney by the Emperor Keen Lung, who was a ruler of exceptional breadth of view and independence of judgment, and even that audience had produced little or no practical result. On the other hand, many circumstances forbade a too hopeful view of the case. The rejection of the present to Sung Tajin, the arrogant tone of the Emperor's letters, the assertion of China's sovereign rights at Macao, and the failure of the Russian embassy under Count Goloyken, all pointed to the conclusion that the Emperor Kiaking would give any envoy to his Court a very different reception from what his father did. But in face of these unfavourable facts the decision to send a second embassy to Pekin was formed and persisted in. By a strange coincidence the second embassy, like the first, was contemporaneous with a disturbed condition of things in Nepaul. When Lord Macartney went to

Pekin the Chinese had just completed their successful invasion of Nepaul, and when Lord Amherst followed in his steps we were bringing to a victorious conclusion a long and arduous war in the same country. The Goorkhas, when hard pressed, had applied to the Chinese for aid, concluding their letter with the remark, "Consider, if you abandon your dependents, that the English will soon be masters of Lhasa "; but they received no comfort from the Chinese authorities, who told them that they "were a race of robbers, who richly deserved whatever punishment they received." Notwithstanding this, the probability remains that events in the Himalayan region led the Chinese government to doubt the wisdom of cultivating close relations with the power which was supreme in India.

Lord Amherst, who was specially selected for the mission on account of his diplomatic experience, reached the mouth of the Peiho in August, 1816. Among the members of his staff was Sir George Staunton, one of the earliest of English sinologues, and he seems to have formed the conclusion immediately on reaching Tientsin that the mission had arrived at the wrong moment to do any good. However, Lord Amherst, relying on his pacific and friendly intentions, as expressed in the phrase "conciliation and compliment," remained hopeful long after his experienced secretary had made up his mind that the mission would prove abortive, and the permission to proceed to Pekin seemed to warrant the belief that something, after all, might be accomplished. The preliminary discussions at Tientsin had related to the question of the ceremony to be observed during an audience with the Emperor, and as to whether the prostration ceremony of the kotow should be performed or not. They had led to no final decision, and the point remained in abeyance until the embassy reached Pekin, whither it was sent more from the desire of the Tientsin officials to shift on to other shoulders the settlement of a delicate point than by the express order of the Emperor. At the time it was thought differently, and Lord Amherst naturally supposed that he had been summoned to Pekin by the Emperor; and as some assurance had been given that the kotow would be waived, he thought at least that he might count on an audience. But the circumstances of the journey were little calculated to inspire confidence as to the good results likely to ensue from even an audience with the Emperor. The mission was hurried along at a rapid rate over bad roads in uncomfortable vehicles without any time for rest or refreshment, and on reaching Pekin it was led by a circuitous route outside the walls to the palace of Yuen-min-yuen. Immediately on arrival Lord Amherst was informed that the Emperor was willing to grant him audience, and that he then and there awaited him. It is not surprising that Lord Amherst should have considered this sudden summons, following on the discourteous treatment he had received during the hurried journey from Tientsin to Pekin, as part of a plan to humiliate and throw discredit on the British mission. In begging to be excused from this hasty and unprepared-for interview, Lord Amherst pleaded the fatigue of himself and his party, the absence of their uniforms and of the presents for the Emperor, which were in the heavy baggage in the rear, and it was obvious that the suggestion violated every point of diplomatic punctilio. Lord Amherst was supported in his refusal by both his Assistant-commissioners, Sir George Staunton and Mr. Henry Ellis; and it is not surprising that they should all have come to the same conclusion, that behind this proposal for an immediate reception there lurked an intention to cast a stigma on the majesty of the sovereign

of Great Britain. The positive and repeated assurance that the kotow would be waived, and that everything should be done in accordance with the English ceremony, did not avail to induce the envoy to alter his decision.

However natural the views of Lord Amherst were,—and it would be absurd for anyone to attempt to censure his action,—there can be no doubt, from the information subsequently obtained, that the proposal for an immediate audience was made in good faith, and with the most friendly intentions. The Emperor Kiaking had not been acquainted with the departure of the mission from Tientsin, and he appears only to have been apprised of its arrival at Pekin when it entered the palace of Yuen-minyuen. Then his curiosity to see the foreigners overcame his political resolutions, and with the natural resolve of an irresponsible despot to gratify his wish without regard to the convenience of others, he determined to see them at once, and ordered that Lord Amherst and his companions should be brought forthwith into his presence. This sudden decision was most disconcerting to his own ministers, who had practically decided that no audience should be granted unless Lord Amherst performed the kotow, and especially to his brother-in-law Ho Koong Yay, who, at the Emperor's repeated wish to see the English representatives, was compelled to abandon his own schemes and to remove all restrictions to the audience. The firmness of Lord Amherst was unexpected and misunderstood. Ho Koong Yay repeated his invitation several times, and even resorted to entreaty; but when the Chinese found that nothing was to be gained they changed their tone, and the infuriated Kiaking ordered that the ambassador and his suite should not be allowed to remain at Yuen-min-yuen, and that they should be sent back to the coast without a moment's delay. Mr. Henry Ellis, in his account of the embassy, writes as follows on this incident: "The house of Sung Tajin, selected for our residence, was extremely commodious and pleasantly situated, with flowers and trees near the principal apartments. Its aspect was so agreeable that we could not but look forward with some satisfaction to remaining there a few days. Such, however, was not to be our fate; before two hours had elapsed a report was brought that opposition was made by the Chinese to unloading the carts; and soon after the mandarins announced that the Emperor, incensed by the ambassador's refusal to attend him according to his commands, had given orders for our immediate departure. The order was so peremptory that no alteration was proposed; in vain was the fatigue of every individual of the embassy pleaded; no consideration was allowed to weigh against the positive commands of the Emperor." Thus ignominiously ended the Amherst mission, which was summarily dismissed, and hurried back to the coast in a highly-inconvenient and inglorious manner. In a letter to the Prince Regent, Kiaking suggested that it would not be necessary for the British government to send another embassy to China. He took some personal satisfaction out of his disappointment by depriving Ho Koong Yay of all his offices, and mulcting him in five years of his pay as an Imperial Duke. The cause of his disgrace was expressly stated to be the mismanagement of the relations with the English ambassador and the suppression of material facts from the Emperor's knowledge. Sung Tajin, who had been specially recalled from his governorship in Ili to take part in the reception of the Europeans, and whose sympathy for them was well known, was also disgraced, and did not recover his position until after the

death of Kiaking. The failure of the Amherst mission put an end to all schemes for diplomatic intercourse with Pekin until another generation. had passed away; but the facts of the case show that its failure was not altogether due to the hostility of the Chinese Emperor. No practical results, in all probability, would have followed; but if Lord Amherst had gone somewhat out of his way to humour the Chinese autocrat, there is no doubt that he would have been received in audience without any humiliating conditions.

Long before the Amherst mission reached China evidence had been afforded that there were many elements of disorder in that country, and that a dangerous feeling of dissatisfaction was seething below the surface. The Manchus, even in their moments of greatest confidence, had always distrusted the loyalty of their Chinese subjects, and there is no dispute that one of their chief reasons for pursuing an excluding policy towards Europeans was the fear that they might tamper with the mass of their countrymen. What had been merely a sentiment under the great rulers of the 18th century became an absolute conviction when Kiaking found himself the mark of conspirators and assassins. The first of the plots to which he nearly fell a victim occurred at such an early period of his reign that it could not be attributed to popular discontent at his misgovernment. In 1803, only four years after the death of Keen Lung, Kiaking, while passing through the streets of his capital in his chair, carried by coolie bearers, was attacked by a party of conspirators, members of one of the secret societies, and narrowly escaped with his life. His eunuch attendants showed considerable devotion and courage, and in the struggle several were killed; but they succeeded in driving off the would-be assassins. The incident caused great excitement, and much consternation in the Imperial palace, where it was noted that out of the crowds in the streets only six persons came forward to help the sovereign in the moment of danger. After this the Emperor gave up his practice of visiting the outer city of Pekin, and confined himself to the Imperial city, and still more to the Forbidden palace which is situated within it. But even here he could not enjoy the sense of perfect security, for the discovery was made that this attempted assassination was part of an extensive plot with ramifications into the Imperial family itself. Inquisitorial inquiries were made, which resulted in the disgrace and punishment of many of the Emperor's relatives, and thus engendered an amount of suspicion and a sense of insecurity that retained unabated force as long as Kiaking filled the throne. That there was ample justification for this apprehension the second attempt on the person of the Emperor clearly revealed. Whatever dangers the Emperor might be exposed to in the streets of Pekin, where the members of the hated and dreaded secret societies had as free access as himself, it was thought that he could feel safe in the interior of the Forbidden city— a palace-fortress within the Tartar quarter garrisoned by a large force, and to which admission was only permitted to a privileged few. Strict as the regulations were at all times, the attempt on Kiaking and the rumours of sedition led undoubtedly to their being enforced with greater rigour, and it seemed incredible for any attempt to be made on the person of the Emperor except by the mutiny of his Guards or an open rebellion. Yet it was precisely at this moment that an attack was made on the Emperor in his own private apartments which nearly proved successful, and which he himself described as an attack under the elbow. In the year 1813 a band

of conspirators, some two hundred in number, made their way into the Palace either by forcing one of the gates, or, more probably, by climbing the walls at an unguarded spot, and, overpowering the few Guards they met, some of them forced their way into the presence of the Emperor. There is not the least doubt that Kiaking would then have fallen but for the unexpected valour of his son Prince Meenning, afterwards the Emperor Taoukwang, who, snatching up a gun, shot two of the intruders. This prince had been set down as a harmless, inoffensive student, but his prompt action on this occasion excited general admiration, and Kiaking, grateful for his life, at once proclaimed him his heir.

Towards the close of his reign, and very soon after the departure of Lord Amherst, Kiaking was brought face to face with a very serious conspiracy, or what he thought to be such, among the princes of the Manchu Imperial family. By an ordinance passed by Chuntche all the descendants. of that prince's father were declared entitled to wear a yellow girdle and to receive a pension from the state; while, with a view to prevent their becoming a danger to the dynasty, they were excluded from civil or military employment, and assigned to a life of idleness. This Imperial colony was, and is still, one of the most peculiar and least understood of the departments of the Tartar government; and although it has served its purpose in preventing dynastic squabbles, there must always remain the doubt as to how far the dynasty has been injured by the loss of the services of so many of its members who might have possessed useful capacity. They purchased the right to an easy and unlaborious existence, with free quarters and a small income guaranteed, at the heavy price of exclusion from the public service. No matter how great their ambition or natural capability, they had no prospect of emancipating themselves from the dull sphere of inaction to which custom relegated them. Towards the close of Kiaking's reign the number of these useless Yellow Girdles had risen to several thousand, and the Emperor, alarmed by the previous attacks, or having some reason to fear a fresh plot, adopted strenuous measures against them. Whether the Emperor's apprehensions overcame his reason, or whether there were among his kinsmen some men of more than average ability, it is certain that the princes of the Manchu family were goaded. or incited into what amounted to rebellion. The exact particulars remain unknown until the dynastic history sees the light of day; but it is known that many of them were executed, and that many hundreds of them were banished to Manchuria, where they were given employment in taking care of the ancestral tombs of the ruling family.

Special significance was given to these intrigues and palace plots by the remarkable increase in the number and the confidence of the secret societies which, in some form or other, have been a feature of Chinese public life from an early period. Had they not furnished evidence by their increased numbers and daring of the dissatisfaction prevalent among the Chinese masses, whether on account of the hardships of their lot, or from hatred of their Tartar lords, they would scarcely have created so much apprehension in the bosom of the Emperor Kiaking, whose authority met with no open opposition, and whose reign was nominally one of both internal and external peace. These secret societies have always been, in the form of fraternal confederacies and associations, a feature in Chinese life; but during the present century they have acquired an importance they could never previously claim, both in China and among Chinese colonies abroad.