SECOND TELEGRAM
For the Perusal of the Great President:—
In our humble opinion the reason why the people—Chinese and foreign—cannot excuse the President is because the movement for the change of Kuo-ti has been inspired, and indeed actually originated in Peking, and that the ringleaders of the plot against the Min Kuo are all "bosom-men" of the President. The Chou An Hui, organized by Yang Tu and five other men, set the fire ablaze and the circular telegram sent by Chu Chi-chien and six other persons precipitated the destruction of the Republican structure. The President knew that the bad deed was being done and yet he did nothing to arrest the same or punish the evil-doers. The people therefore, are suspicious. A mandate was issued on the 24th of the 11th month of the 3rd year in which it is affirmed: "Democracy and republicanism are laid down in the Constitutional Compact; and there is also a law relating to the punishment of those who spread sedition in order to disturb the minds of the people. If any one Shall hereafter dare to advance strange doctrines and misconstrue the meaning of the Constitution, he will be punished severely in accordance with the law of sedition."
Yang Tu for having publicly organized the said Society and Chu Chi-chien for having directly plotted by telegram are the principal offenders in the present flagrant case of sedition. As their crimes are obvious and the subject of abundant proof, we hereby ask the President to carry out at once the terms of the said mandate and publicly execute Yang Tu, Sun Yu-yun, Yen Fu, Liu Shih-pei, Li Hsieh-ho, Hu Ying, Chu Chi-chien, Tuan Chih-kuei, Chow Tzu-chi, Liang Shih-yi, Chang Cheng-fang and Yuan Nai-kuan to the end that the whole nation may be pacified. Then, and not till then, will the world believe in the sincerity of the President, in his love for the country and his intention to abide by the law. All the troops and people here are in anger; and unless a substantial proof from the Central Authorities is forthcoming, guaranteeing the maintenance of the Republic, it will be impossible to suppress or pacify them. We await a reply within twenty-four hours.
(Signed) THE GOVERNORS OF YUNNAN PROVINCE.
General Feng Kuo-chang, President of the Republic.
The Scholar Liang Chi-chao, sometime Minister of Justice, and the foremost "Brain" in China.
It was evident from the beginning that pride prevented Yuan Shih-kai from retreating from the false position he had taken up. Under his instructions the State Department sent a stream of powerful telegraphic messages to Yunnan attempting to dissuade the Republican leaders from revolt. But the die had been cast and very gravely the standard of rebellion was raised in the capital city of Yunnan and the people exhorted to shed their blood. Everything pointed to the fact that this rising was to be very different from the abortive July outbreak of 1913. There was a soberness and a deliberation about it all which impressed close observers with a sense of the ominous end which was now in sight.
Still Peking remained purblind. During the month of January the splendour of the dream empire, which was already dissolving into thin air, filled the newspapers. It was reported that an Imperial Edict printed on Yellow Paper announcing the enthronement was ready for universal distribution: that twelve new Imperial Seals in jade or gold were being manufactured: that a golden chair and a magnificent State Coach in the style of Louis XV were almost ready. Homage to the portrait of Yuan Shih-kai by all officials throughout the country was soon to be ordered; sycophantic scholars were busily preparing a volume poetically entitled "The Golden Mirror of the Empire," in which the virtues of the new sovereign were extolled in high-sounding language. A recondite significance, it was said, was to be given to the old ceremonial dress, which was to be revived, from the fact that every official would carry a Hu or Ivory Tablet to be held against the breast. The very mention of this was sufficient to make the local price of ivory leap skywards! In the privacy of drawing-rooms the story went the rounds that Yuan Shih-kai, now completely deluded into believing in the success of his great scheme, had held a full dress rehearsal of a ceremony which would be the first one at his new Court when he would invest the numerous ladies of his establishment with royal rank. Seated on his Throne he had been engaged in instructing these interested females, already robed in magnificent costumes, in the parts they were to play, when he had noticed the absence of the Korean Lady—a consort he had won, it is said, in his Seoul days in competition against the Japanese Envoy accredited to Korea, thereby precipitating the war of 1894-95.[[19]] The Korean Lady had refused to enter the Throne-room, he was told, because she was dissatisfied with the rank he proposed to confer on her. Sternly he sent for her and told her to take her place in the circle. But no sooner had she arrived than hysterically she screamed, "You told me when you wedded me that no wife would be my superior: now I am counted only a secondary consort." With that she hurled herself at the eldest wife who was occupying the post of honour and assailed her bitterly. Amidst the general confusion the would-be-Emperor hastily descended from his Throne and vainly intervened, but the women were not to be parted until their robes were in tatters.
In such childishnesses did Peking indulge when a great disaster was preparing. To explain what had occurred in Yunnan it is necessary to go back and tell the story of a remarkable young Chinese—General Tsao-ao, the soul of the new revolt.
In the revolution of 1911 each province had acted on the assumption that it possessed inherent autonomous rights and could assume sovereignty as soon as local arrangements had allowed the organization of a complete provisional government. Yunnan had been one of the earliest provinces to follow the lead of the Wuchang rebels and had virtually erected itself into a separate republic, which attracted much attention because of the iron discipline which was preserved. Possessing a fairly well-organized military system, largely owing to the proximity of the French frontier and the efforts which a succession of Viceroys had made to provide adequate frontier defence, it was amply able to guarantee its newly won autonomy. General Tsao-ao, then in command of a division of troops had been elected Generalissimo of the province; and bending himself to his task in very few weeks he had driven into exile all officials who adhered to the Imperialist cause and made all local institutions completely self-supporting. Even in 1911 it had been reported that this young man dreamed of founding a dynasty for himself in the mountains of South China—an ambition by no means impossible of realization since he had received a first-class military education in the Tokio Military Schools and was thoroughly up-to-date and conversant with modern theories of government.
These reports had at the time greatly concerned Yuan Shih-kai who heard it stated by all who knew him that the Yunnan leader was a genius in his own way. In conformity with his policy of bringing to Peking all who might challenge his authority, he had induced General Tsao-ao, since the latter had played no part in the rebellion of 1913, to lay down his office of Yunnan Governor-General and join him in the capital at the beginning of 1914—another high provincial appointment being held out to him as a bait.
Once in Peking, however, General Tsao-ao had been merely placed in charge of an office concerned with the reorganization of the land-tax, nominally a very important piece of work long advocated by foreign critics. But as there were no funds available, and as the purpose was plainly merely to keep him under observation, he fretted at the restraint, and became engaged in secret political correspondence with men who had been exiled abroad. As he was soon an open suspect, in order to avoid arrest he had taken the bold step at the very inception of the monarchy movement of heading the list of Generals in residence in Peking who petitioned the Senate to institute a Monarchy, this act securing him against summary treatment. But owing to his secret connection with the scholar Liang Chi-chao, who had thrown up his post of Minister of Justice and left the capital in order to oppose the new movement, he was watched more and more carefully—his death being even hinted at.
He was clever enough to meet this ugly development with a masterly piece of trickery conceived in the Eastern vein. One day a carefully arranged dispute took place between him and his wife, and the police were angrily called in to see that his family and all their belongings were taken away to Tientsin as he refused any longer to share the same roof with them. Being now alone in the capital, he apparently abandoned himself to a life of shameless debauch, going nightly to the haunts of pleasure and becoming a notorious figure in the great district in the Outer City of Peking which is filled with adventure and adventuresses and which is the locality from which Haroun al-Raschid obtained through the medium of Arab travellers his great story of "Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp." When governmental suspicions were thoroughly lulled, he arranged with a singing-girl to let him out by the backdoor of her house at dawn from whence he escaped to the railway-station, rapidly reaching Tientsin entirely unobserved.
The morning was well-advanced before the detectives who nightly watched his movements became suspicious. Then finding that his whereabouts were unknown to the coachman dozing on the box of his carriage, they roughly entered the house where he had passed the night only to find that the bird had flown. Hasty telegrams were dispatched in every direction, particularly to Tientsin—the great centre for political refugees—and his summary arrest ordered. But fortune favoured him. A bare quarter-of-an-hour before the police began their search he had embarked with his family on a Japanese steamer lying in the Tientsin river and could snap his fingers at Yuan Shih-kai.
Once in Japan he lost no time in assembling his revolutionary friends and in a body they embarked for South China. As rapidly as possible he reached Yunnan province from Hongkong, travelling by way of the French Tonkin railway. Entering the province early in December he found everything fairly ready for revolt, though there was a deficiency in arms and munitions which had to be made good. Yuan Shih-kai, furious at this evasion, had telegraphed to confidential agents in Yunnan to kill him at sight, but fortunately he was warned and spared to perform his important work. Had a fortnight of grâce been vouchsafed him, he would have probably made the most brilliant modern campaign that has been witnessed in China, for he was an excellent soldier. Acting from the natural fortress of Yunnan it was his plan to descend suddenly on the Yangtsze Valley by way of Chungking and to capture the upper river in one victorious march thus closing the vast province of Szechuan to the Northern troops. But circumstances had made it imperative for him and his friends to telegraph the Yunnan ultimatum a fortnight sooner than it should have been dispatched, and the warning thus conveyed to the Central Government largely crippled the Yunnan offensive.
The circumstances which had made instant action necessary were as follows. As we have seen from the record of the previous risings, the region of the Yangtsze river has superlative value in Chinese politics. Offering as it does an easy road into the heart of the country and touching more than half the Provinces, it is indeed a priceless means of communication, and for this reason Yuan Shih-kai had been careful after the crushing of the rebellion of 1913 to load the river-towns with his troops under the command of Generals he believed incorruptible. Chief of these was General Feng Kuo-chang at Nanking who held the balance of power on the great river, and whose politics, though not entirely above suspicion, had been proof against all the tempting offers South China made to him until the ill-fated monarchy movement had commenced. But during this movement General Feng Kuo-chang had expressed himself in such contemptuous terms of the would-be Emperor that orders had been given to another high official—Admiral Tseng, Garrison Commissioner at Shanghai—to have him assassinated. Instead of obeying his instructions, Admiral Tseng had conveyed a warning to his proposed victim, the consequence being that the unfortunate admiral was himself brutally murdered on the streets of Shanghai by revolver-shots for betraying the confidence of his master. After this dénouement it was not very strange that General Feng Kuo-chang should have intimated to the Republican Party that as soon as they entered the Yangtsze Valley he would throw in his lot with them together with all his troops. Of this Yuan Shih-kai became aware through his extraordinary system of intelligence; and following his usual practice he had ordered General Feng Kuo-chang to Peking as Chief of the General Staff—an appointment which would place him under direct surveillance. First on one excuse, then on another, General Feng Kuo-chang had managed to delay his departure from day to day without actually coming under the grave charge of refusing to obey orders. But finally the position was such that he telegraphed to General Tsao-ao that unless the Yunnan arrangements were hastened he would have to leave Nanking—and abandon this important centre to one of Yuan Shih-kai's own henchmen—which meant the end of all hopes of the Yangtsze Valley rising en masse.
It was to save Feng Kuo-chang, then, that the young patriot Tsao-ao caused the ultimatum to be dispatched fourteen days too soon, i.e., before the Yunnan troops had marched over the mountain-barrier into the neighbouring province of Szechuan and seized the city of Chungking—which would have barred the advance of the Northern troops permanently as the river defiles even when lightly defended are impassable here to the strongest force. It was largely due to the hardships of forced marches conducted over these rugged mountains, which raise their precipitous peaks to the heavens, that Tsao-ao subsequently lost his life, his health being undermined by exposure, tuberculosis finally claiming him. But one thing at least did his resolute action secure. With Yunnan in open revolt and several other provinces about to follow suit, General Feng Kuo-chang was able to telegraph Peking that it was impossible for him to leave his post at Nanking without rebellion breaking out. This veiled threat was understood by Yuan Shih-kai. Grimly he accepted the checkmate.
Yet all the while he was acting with his customary energy. Troops were dispatched towards Szechuan in great numbers, being tracked up the rapids of the upper river on board fleets of junks which were ruthlessly commandeered. Now commenced an extraordinary race between the Yunnan mountaineers and the Northern plainsmen for the strategic city of Chungking. For some weeks the result was in doubt; for although Szechuan province was held by Northern garrisons, they were relatively speaking weak and surrounded by hostile Szechuan troops whose politics were doubtful. In the end, however, Yuan Shih-kai's men reached their goal first and Chungking was saved. Heavy and continuous mountain-fighting ensued, in which the Southern troops were only partially successful. Being less well-equipped in mountain artillery and less well-found in general supplies they were forced to rely largely on guerrilla warfare. There is little accurate record of the desperate fighting which occurred in this wild region but it is known that the original Yunnan force was nearly annihilated, and that of the remnant numbers perished from disease and exposure.
Other events were, however, hastening the débâcle. Kueichow province had almost at once followed the example of Yunnan. A third province, Kwangsi, under a veteran who was much respected, General Lu Yun Ting, was soon added; and gradually as in 1911 it became clear that the army was only one chessman in a complicated and very ingenious game.
FOOTNOTES:
[ [19] ] This story is firmly believed by many, namely that a beautiful woman caused the loss of Korea.
CHAPTER XIII
"THE THIRD REVOLUTION" (Continued)
THE DOWNFALL AND DEATH OF YUAN SHIH-KAI
As had been the case during the previous revolts, it was not publicly or on the battlefield that the most crucial work was performed: the decisive elements in this new and conclusive struggle were marshalled behind the scenes and performed their task unseen. Though the mandarinate, at the head of which stood Yuan Shih-kai, left no stone unturned to save itself from its impending fate, all was in vain. Slowly but inexorably it was shown that a final reckoning had to be faced.
The reasons are not far to seek. Too long had the moral sense of educated men been outraged by common fraud and deceit for any continuance of a régime which had disgraced China for four long years to be humanly possible. Far and wide the word was rapidly passing that Yuan Shih-kai was not the man he had once been; he was in reality feeble and choleric—prematurely old from too much history-making and too many hours spent in the harem. He had indeed become a mere Colossus with feet of clay,—a man who could be hurled to the ground by precisely the same methods he had used to destroy the Manchus. Even his foreign supporters were becoming tired and suspicious of him, endless trouble being now associated with his name, there being no promise that quieter times could possibly come so long as he lived. A very full comprehension of the general position is given by perusing the valedictory letter of the leader of the Chinellectuals, that remarkable man—Liang Ch'i-chao, who in December had silently and secretly fled from Tientsin on information reaching him that his assassination was being planned. On the even of his departure Pg206 he had sent the following brilliant document to the Emperor-elect as a reply to an attempt to entrap him to Peking, a document the meaning of which was clear to every educated man. Its exquisite irony mixed with its bluntness told all that was necessary to tell—and forecasted the inevitable fall. It runs:—
For the Kind Perusal of the Great President:—
A respectful reading of your kind instructions reveals to me your modesty and the brotherly love which you cherish for your humble servant, who is so moved by your heart-touching sympathy that he does not know how to return your kindness. A desire then seized him to submit his humble views for your wise consideration; though on the one hand he has thought that he might fail to express what he wishes to say if he were to do so in a set of brief words, while on the other hand he has no desire to trouble the busy mind of one on whose shoulders fall myriads of affairs, with views expressed in many words. Furthermore, what Ch'i-chao desires to say relates to what can be likened to the anxiety of one who, fearing that the heavens may some day fall on him, strives to ward off the catastrophe. If his words should be misunderstood, it would only increase his offence. Time and again he has essayed to write; but each time he has stopped short. Now he is going South to visit his parents; and looking at the Palace-Gate from afar, he realizes that he is leaving the Capital indefinitely. The thought that he has been a protégé of the Great President and that dangers loom ahead before the nation as well as his sense of duty and friendly obligations, charge him with the responsibility of saying something. He therefore begs to take the liberty of presenting his humble but extravagant views for the kind consideration of the Great President.
The problem of Kuo-ti (form of State) appears to have gone too far for reconsideration: the position is like unto a man riding on the back of a wild tiger.... Ch'i-chao therefore at one moment thought he would say no more about it, since added comment thereon might make him all the more open to suspicion. But a sober study of the general situation and a quiet consideration of the possible future make him tremble like an autumn leaf; for the more he meditates, the more dangerous the situation appears. It is true that the minor trouble of "foreign advice" and rebel plotting can be settled and guarded against; but what Ch'i-chao bitterly deplores is that the original intention of the Great President to devote his life and energy to the interest of the country—an intention he has fulfilled during the past four years—will be difficult to explain to the world in future. The trust of the world in the Great President would be shattered with the result that the foundation of the country will be unsettled. Do not the Sages say: "In dealing with the people aim at faithfulness?" If faithfulness to promises be observed by those in authority, then the people will naturally surrender themselves. Once, however, a promise is broken, it will be as hard to win back the people's trust as to ascend to the very Heavens. Several times have oaths of office been uttered; yet even before the lips are dry, action hath falsified the words of promise. In these circumstances, how can one hope to send forth his orders to the country in the future, and expect them to be obeyed? The people will say "he started in righteousness but ended in self-seeking: how can we trust our lives in his hands, if he should choose to pursue even further his love of self-enrichment?" It is possible for Ch'i-chao to believe that the Great President has no desire to make profit for himself by the sacrifice of the country, but how can the mass of the people—who believe only what they are told—understand what Ch'i-chao may, perchance, believe?
The Great President sees no one but those who are always near him; and these are the people who have tried to win his favour and gain rewards by concocting the alleged unanimous petitions of the whole country urging his accession to the Throne. In reality, however, the will of the people is precisely the opposite. Even the high officials in the Capital talk about the matter in a jeering and sarcastic way. As for the tone of the newspapers outside Peking, that is better left unmentioned. And as for the "small people" who crowd the streets and the market-places, they go about as if something untoward might happen at any moment. If a kingdom can be maintained by mere force, then the disturbance at the time of Ch'in Chih-huang and Sui Yang Ti could not have been successful. If, on the other hand, it is necessary to secure the co-operation and the willing submission of the hearts of the people, then is it not time that our Great President bethinks himself and boldly takes his own stand?
Some argue that to hesitate in the middle of a course after indulging in much pomp and pageantry at the beginning will result in ridicule and derision and that the dignity of the Chief Executive will be lowered. But do they even know whether the Great President has taken the least part in connection with the phantasies of the past four months? Do they know that the Great President has, on many occasions, sworn fidelity before high Heaven and the noon-day sun? Now if he carries out his sacrosanct promise and is deaf to the unrighteous advice of evil counsellors, his high virtue will be made even more manifest than ever before. Wherein then is there need of doubt or fear?
Others may even suggest that since the proposal was initiated by military men, the tie that has hitherto bound the latter to the Great President may be snapped in case the pear fails to ripen. But in the humble opinion of Ch'i-chao, the troops are now all fully inspired with a sense of obedience to the Chief Executive. Who then can claim the right to drag our Great President into unrighteousness for the sake of vanity and vainglory? Who will dare disobey the behests of the Great President if he should elect to open his heart and follow the path of honour and unbroken vows? If to-day, as Head of the nation, he is powerless to silence the riotous clamour of the soldiery as happened at Chen-chiao in ancient time, then be sure in the capacity of an Emperor he will not be able to suppress an outbreak of troops even as it happened once at Yuyang in the Tang dynasty.[[20]] To give them the handle of the sword is simply courting trouble for the future. But can we suspect the troops—so long trained under the Great President—of such unworthy conduct? The ancients say "However a thing is done, do not hurt the feelings of those who love you, or let your enemy have a chance to rejoice." Recently calamities in the forms of drought and flood have repeatedly visited China; and the ancients warn us that in such ways does Heaven manifest its Will regarding great movements in our country. In addition to these we must remember the prevailing evils of a corrupt officialdom, the incessant ravages of robbers, excesses in punishment, the unusually heavy burdens of taxation, as well as the irregularity of weather and rain, which all go to increase the murmurs and complaints of the people. Internally, the rebels are accumulating strength against an opportune time to rise; externally, powerful neighbouring countries are waiting for an opportunity to harass us. Why then should our Great President risk his precious person and become a target of public criticism; or "abandon the rock of peace in search of the tiger's tail"; or discourage the loyalty of faithful ones and encourage the sinister ambitions of the unscrupulous? Ch'i-chao sincerely hopes that the Great President will devote himself to the establishment of a new era which shall be an inspiration to heroism and thus escape the fate of those who are stigmatized in our annals with the name of Traitor. He hopes that the renown of the Great President will long be remembered in the land of Chung Hua (China) and he prays that the fate of China may not end with any abrupt ending that may befall the Great President. He therefore submits his views with a bleeding heart. He realizes that his words may not win the approval of one who is wise and clever; but Ch'i-chao feels that unless he unburdens what is in his heart, he will be false to the duty which bids him speak and be true to the kindness that has been showered on him by the Great President. Whether his loyalty to the Imperative Word will be rewarded with approval or with reproof, the order of the Great President will say.
There are other words of which Ch'i-chao wishes to tender to the Great President. To be an independent nation to-day, we must need follow the ways of the present age. One who opposes the current of the world and protects himself against the enriching influence of the world-spirit must eventually share the fate of the unselected. It is sincerely hoped that the Great President will refrain to some extent from restoring the old and withal work for real reform. Law can only be made a living force by both the ruler and the people obeying it with sincerity. When the law loses its strength, the people will not know how to act; and then the dignity of Government will disappear. It is hoped that the Great President will keep himself within the bounds of law and not lead the officials and the people to juggle with words. Participation in politics and patriotism are closely related. Bear well in mind that it is impossible to expect the people to share the responsibilities of the country, unless they are given a voice in the transaction of public business. The hope is expressed that the Great President will establish a real organ representing the true will of the people and encourage the natural growth of the free expression of public opinion. Let us not become so arrogant and oppressive that the people will have no chance to express their views, as this may inspire hatred on the part of the people. The relation between the Central Government and the provincial centres is like that between the trunk and branches of a tree. If the branches are all withered, how can the trunk continue to grow? It is hoped that the Great President, while giving due consideration to the maintenance of the dignity of the Central Government, will at the same time allow the local life of the provinces to develop. Ethics, Righteousness, Purity and Conscientiousness are four great principles. When these four principles are neglected, a country dies. If the whole country should come in spirit to be like "concubines and women," weak and open to be coerced and forced along with whomsoever be on the stronger side, how can a State be established? May the Great President encourage principle, and virtue, stimulate purity of character, reject men of covetous and mean character, and grant wise tolerance to those who know no fear in defending the right. Only then will the vitality of the country be retained in some degree; and in time of emergency, there will be a reserve of strength to be drawn upon in support of the State. All these considerations are of the order of obvious truths and it must be assumed that the Great President, who is greatly wise, is not unaware of the same. The reason why Ch'i-chao ventures to repeat them is this. He holds it true that a duty is laid on him to submit whatever humble thoughts are his, and at the same time he believes that the Great President will not condemn a proper physic even though it may be cheap and simple. How fortunate will Ch'i-chao be if advice so tendered shall meet with approval. He is proceeding farther and farther away from the Palace every day and he does not know how soon he will be able to seek an audience again. He writes these words with tears dropping into the ink-slab and he trusts that his words may receive the attention of the Great President.
So ends this remarkable missive which has become an historic document in the archives of the Republic. Once again it was whispered that so great an impression did this fateful warning produce on the Emperor-elect that he was within an ace of cancelling the disastrous scheme which now enmeshed him. But in the end family influence won the day; and stubbornly and doggedly the doomed man pushed on with his attempt to crush revolt and consolidate his crumbling position.
Every possible effort was made to minimize the effect of international influence on the situation. As the sycophantic vernacular press of the capital, long drilled to blind subservience, had begun to speak of his enthronement as a certainty on the 9th February, a Circular Note was sent to the Five Allied Powers that no such date had been fixed, and that the newspaper reports to that effect were inventions. In order specially to conciliate Japan, a high official was appointed to proceed on an Embassy to Tokio to grant special industrial concessions—a manoeuvre which was met with the official refusal of the Tokio Government to be so placated. Peking was coldly informed that owing to "court engagements" it would be impossible for the Emperor of Japan to receive any Chinese Mission. After this open rebuff attention was concentrated on "the punitive expedition" to chastise the disaffected South, 80,000 men being put in the field and a reserve of 80,000 mobilized behind them. An attempt was also made to win over waverers by an indiscriminate distribution of patents of nobility. Princes, Dukes, Marquises, Viscounts and Barons were created in great batches overnight only to be declined in very many cases, one of the most precious possessions of the Chinese race being its sense of humour. Every one, or almost every one, knew that the new patents were not worth the paper they were written on, and that in future years the members of this spurious nobility would be exposed to something worse than contempt. France was invited to close the Tonkin frontier, but this request also met with a rebuff, and revolutionists and arms were conveyed in an ever-more menacing manner into the revolted province of Yunnan by the French railways. A Princedom was at length conferred on Lung Chi Kwang, the Military Governor of Canton, Canton being a pivotal point and Lung Chi Kwang, one of the most cold-blooded murderers in China, in the hope that this would spur him to such an orgy of crime that the South would be crushed. Precisely the opposite occurred, since even murderers are able to read the signs of the times. Attempts were likewise made to enforce the use of the new Imperial Calendar, but little success crowned such efforts, no one outside the metropolis believing for a moment that this innovation possessed any of the elements of permanence.
Meanwhile the monetary position steadily worsened, the lack of money becoming so marked as to spread panic. Still, in spite of this, the leaders refused to take warning, and although the political impasse was constantly discussed, the utmost concession the monarchists were willing to make was to turn China into a Federal Empire with the provinces constituted into self-governing units. The over-issue of paper currency to make good the gaps in the National Finance, now slowly destroyed the credit of the Central Government and made the suspension of specie payment a mere matter of time. By the end of February the province of Kueichow was not only officially admitted by the Peking Government to be in open revolt as well as Yunnan, but rebel troops were reported to be invading the neighbouring province of Hunan. Kwangsi was also reported to be preparing for secession whilst in Szechuan local troops were revolting in increasing numbers. Rumours of an attempted assassination of Yuan Shih-kai by means of bombs now circulated,—and there were many arrests and suicides in the capital. Though by a mandate issued on the 23rd February, the enthronement ceremony was indefinitely postponed, that move came too late. The whole country was plainly trembling on the edge of a huge outbreak when, less than four weeks later, Yuan Shih-kai reluctantly and publicly admitted that the game was up. It is understood that a fateful interview he had with the British Minister greatly influenced him, though the formal declaration of independence of Kwangsi on the 16th March, whither the scholar Liang Ch'i-chao had gone, was also a powerful argument. On the 22nd March the Emperor-elect issued the mandate categorically cancelling the entire monarchy scheme, it being declared that he would now form a Responsible Cabinet. Until that date the Government Gazette had actually perpetrated the folly of publishing side by side Imperial Edicts and Presidential Mandates—the first for Chinese eyes, the second for foreign consumption. Never before even in China had such a farce been seen. A rapid perusal of the Mandate of Cancellation will show how lamely and poorly the retreat is made: