| 1 | Great Britain shall have the right to construct railways between India and Tibet. |
| 2 | The Chinese Government shall contract loans from the British Government for the improvement of the administration of Tibet. |
| 3 | The treaty obligations between Tibet and Great Britain shall be considered valid as heretofore. |
| 4 | British experts shall be engaged for the industrial enterprises of Tibet. |
| 5 | China shall secure the redemption of loans contracted from the British people by the Tibetans. |
| 6 | Neither China nor Great Britain shall send troops to Tibet without reason. |
| 7 | The Chinese Government shall not appoint or dismiss officials in Tibet on its own responsibility. |
| 8 | The British Government shall be allowed to establish telegraph lines in Lhassa, Chiangchu, Chamutao, etc. |
| 9 | British postal service shall be introduced in Lhassa and other places. |
| 10 | China shall not interfere with the actions of the British Government in Tibet. |
| 11 | No privileges or interests in Tibet shall be granted to other nations. |
| 12 | All mines in Tibet shall be jointly worked by the British and Chinese Governments. |
These Twelve Demands, which the Chinese M. P.'s resent so hotly, which they quaintly term "cruel and unreasonable," virtually amount to the annexation of Tibet by the British Government. It is amusing to think that it was the Japanese press which first gave them publicity. We are so accustomed to hearing of the famous Twenty-one Demands of Japan that we fail to realize that other nations make demands equally sweeping and equally arbitrary. Of course, these British demands will not receive the world-wide attention accorded those of Japan. Remember, over here it is not customary to think of or speak of anything but "Japanese aggression." Japan, you see, offers the only stumbling-block to the complete domination of the Orient by Europe. But for Japan—China might possibly become another India. And the Japanese, facing race discrimination and exclusion from most of the European countries, and many of their colonies, as well as America, cannot afford to have China under European control. It is a question of self-preservation.
We were dining the other evening with a Chinese gentleman, of high position, who invited us to dinner at an old and very famous restaurant outside the palace gates. It was at this restaurant, in the days of the dowager empress, that the Mandarins used to assemble every night while waiting for the imperial edicts to be issued from the palace. And as the edicts frequently did not appear until two or three in the morning, they comforted themselves, during this long wait, with much fine and delicate food cooked in the fine and delicate manner that even French cooks cannot excel. And if the cooking in those days was as delicious as at present, they passed the time very pleasantly, and did very well by themselves, those old officials.
It was a bitterly cold night, and the dark street in front of the restaurant was crowded with a motley array of rickshaws, Peking carts, and motors, through which we made our way by the light of a bobbing lantern. We entered a crowded, noisy kitchen, filled with rushing waiters and shouting cooks bending over charcoal fires. In contrast to the freezing wind outside the air was deliciously warm, redolent with the fumes of charcoal and the aroma of savory exotic food. Our table was waiting for us in a private dining-room; the whole place consists of private dining-rooms, separated by good thick stone walls, so that one can't hear the plots and intrigues being hatched next door, though the din in the open courtyard caused by the scrambling, yelling waiters would make that impossible, in any event. The room had a stone floor, and was unheated, only a little less cold than outdoors. Inadvertently, we took off our wraps,—not all, only two or three; for we are becoming quite Chinese in our manner of putting one coat on over another. We put them all on again, however, at the end of the second course, for the draughty windows and the door constantly swinging open into the courtyard made all our warm things indispensable.
Our Chinese gentleman gave us a "number-one" dinner, and a number-one dinner always begins with bird's-nest soup, the greatest delicacy a Chinese can offer; also, the most expensive. Well, we began with it, and truly it is "number-one"—gelatinous, delicate, with an exquisite flavor altogether indescribable. Then followed the other courses. As this dinner was given to foreigners, we had only twelve courses, whereas the usual Chinese dinners run up into the dozens; "forty curses" they are sometimes called by unwary foreigners who have tried to eat their way through a whole meal. The courses come on and on, endlessly; but the proper Chinese custom is that you leave when you have had enough, say four or five. You aren't supposed to sit through an entire meal. Our host told us that he had been to three dinners that evening, before this one, and was expecting to go to one or two more. We felt rather uneasy when he told us this, and thought we ought to be going, ourselves; but he hastily explained that this dinner, given in our honor, was not long and that we must go through all of it. Very easy going, I must say!
After the bird's-nest soup came shark fins, another delicacy and also delicious. Then fish, then soup of another kind, then powdered chicken, then duck and rice, then cake, then shell-fish, then more duck, then lotus-flower soup, and finally fruit and coffee. As each wonderful dish succeeded the other our host apologized profusely, deprecating its poor quality and miserable manner of preparation. We protested vehemently, with enthusiasm. This also is Chinese etiquette, it seems, for the host to denounce each dish, while the guests eat themselves to a standstill. It all took a long time, for we managed our chop-sticks badly; nevertheless, in spite of this handicap, we finished every marvelous course placed before us. A tea-pot of hot sake did something to keep the creeping chill out of our bones, but very little: the thimble-like sake cups contained only a few drops, and one doesn't like to ask for the tea-pot more than seventeen times! During the meal. Mr. Y—— entertained us with many side-lights on the political situation, and we finally asked him to explain the meaning of the Twelve British Demands. He replied promptly, emphatically.
"They are a threat," he said, "a form of coercion, to make us take the next step, to declare war. If we declare war, they will be withdrawn. We are familiar with them. They have appeared before, when it was necessary."