policy. On the contrary some of them may have deprecated both as being opposed to the interests of Tibet. But they could hardly speak out their minds, and even if they did they could not restrain Shata, for the simple reason that the executive authority practically rests in the hands of the senior premier. He very seldom consulted his colleagues, still less was he inclined to accept advice coming from them. Under the circumstances they must have connived at the acceptance of the bishop's apparel, even if they knew about it.

China's loss of prestige in Tibet since the Japano-Chinese war owing to her inability to assert her power over the vassal state has much to do with this pro-Russian leaning. China is no longer respected, much less feared, by the Tibetans. Previous to that war and before China's internal incompetence had been laid bare by Japan, relations like those between master and vassal bound Tibet to China. The latter interfered with the internal affairs of Tibet and meted out punishments freely to the Tibetan dignitaries and even to the Grand Lama. Now she is entirely helpless. She could not even demand explanations from Tibet when that country was thrown into an unusual agitation about the Temo Rinpoche's affair. The Tibetans are now conducting themselves in utter disregard or even in defiance of the wishes of China, for they are aware of the powerlessness of China to take any active steps against them. They know that their former suzerain is fallen and is therefore no longer to be depended upon. They are prejudiced against England on account of her subjugation of India, and so they have naturally concluded that they should establish friendly relations with Russia, which they knew was England's bitter foe.

It is evident that the Dalai Lama himself favors this view, and it may safely be presumed that unless he was favorably disposed towards Russia he would never have accepted the bishop's garment from the Czar. He is too intelligent a man to accept any present from a foreign sovereign as a mere compliment.

The Dalai Lama's friendly inclination was clearly established when in December, 1900, he sent to Russia his grand chamberlain as envoy with three followers. Leaving Lhasa on that date the party first proceeded towards the Tsan-ni Kenbo's native place, whence they were taken by the Siberian railway, and in time reached St. Petersburg. The party was received with warm welcome by that court, to which it offered presents brought from Tibet. It is said that on that occasion a secret understanding was reached between the two governments.

It was about December of 1901 or January of the following

year that the party returned home. By that time I had already been residing in Lhasa for some time. About two months after the return of the party I went out on a short trip on horseback to a place about fifty miles northeast of Lhasa. While I was there I saw two hundred camels fully loaded arrive from the northeast. The load consisted of small boxes, two packed on each camel. Every load was covered with skin, and so I could not even guess what it contained. The smallness of the boxes however arrested my attention, and I came to the conclusion that some Mongolians must have been bringing ingots of silver as a present to the Dalai Lama. I asked some of the drivers about the contents of the boxes, but they could not tell me anything. They were hired at some intermediate station, and so knew nothing about the contents. However they believed that the boxes contained silver, but they knew for certain that these boxes did not come from China. They had been informed by somebody that they came from some unknown place.

When I returned to the house of my host, the minister of finance came in and informed him that on that day a heavy load had arrived from Russia. On my host inquiring what were the contents of the load, the minister replied that this was a secret. I took a hint from this talk of the minister and left the room. I had however by good chance discovered that the load came from Russia, and though I could not as yet form any idea about the contents, I tried to get some reliable information.

Now I knew one government officer who was one of the worst repositories imaginable for any secret; he was such a gossip that it was easy to worm anything from him. One day I met him and gradually the trend of our conversation was turned to the last caravan. I found him quite communicative as usual, and so I asked him about the contents of the load. The gentleman was so far obliging, that he told me (confidentially, he said) that another caravan of three hundred camels had arrived some time before, and that the load brought by so many camels consisted of small fire-arms, bullets, and other interesting objects. He was quite elated with the weapons, saying that now for the first time Tibet was sufficiently armed to resist any attack which England might undertake against her, and could defiantly reject any improper request which that aggressive power, as the Tibetans believe her to be, might make to her.

I had the opportunity of inspecting one of the guns sent by Russia. It was apparently one of modern pattern, but it did not impress me as possessing any long range nor seem to be quite fit

for active service. The stock bore an inscription attesting that it was made in the United States of America. The Tibetans being ignorant of Roman letters and English firmly believed that all the weapons were made in Russia. It seems that about one-half of the load of the five hundred camels consisted of small arms and ammunition.

The Chinese government appears mortified to see Tibet endeavoring to break off her traditional relation with China, and to attach herself to Russia. The Chinese Amban once tried to interfere with the Tsan-ni Kenbo's dealings in Lhasa, and even intended to arrest him. But it was of no avail, as the Tibetan government extended protection to the man and defeated the purposes of the Amban. On one occasion the Tsan-ni was secretly sent to Darjeeling and on another occasion to Nepal, and the Amban could never catch hold of him. It appears that the British government watched the movements of the Tsan-ni, and this suspicion of England against him appears to have been shared by the Nepal govern

ment.

The existence of the Siberian railway can hardly be expected to give any great help to Russia, if ever the latter should be obliged from one reason or another to send a warlike expedition to Lhasa. The distance from the nearest station to Lhasa is prohibitive of any such undertaking, for the march, even if nothing happens on the road, must require five or six months and is through districts. abounding in deserts and hills. The presence of wild natives in Amdo and Kham is also a discouraging factor, for they are people who are perfectly uncontrollable, given up to plunder and murder, and of course thoroughly at home in their own haunts. Even discipline and superior weapons would not balance the natural advantages which these dreadful people enjoy over intruders, however well informed the latter may be about the topography of the districts. Russia can hardly expect to subdue Tibet by force of arms. It was in consideration of this fact that the Tsan-ni Kenbo has been endeavoring to impose upon the Tibetans that audacious. fiction about the identity of the Czar's person with that of the long dead Founder of the New Sect, so that his master might accomplish by peaceful means what he could hardly effect by force.

Under the circumstances, something like a reaction seems already to have set in against the pro-Russian agitation ingeniously planned by the Tsan-ni Kenbo. It remains to be seen what steps Russia will take towards Tibet to prevent the Lama's country from slipping away from her grasp.

Apparently therefore the Russian manoeuvres in Tibet have succeeded, and the question that naturally arises is this: "Is Russia's footing in Tibet so firmly established as to enable her with any hope of success to make an attempt on India with Tibet as her base?" I cannot answer this question affirmatively, for Russia's influence in Tibet has not yet taken a deep root. She can count only on the Dalai Lama and his senior premier as her most reliable friends, and the support of the rest who are simply blind followers of those two cannot be counted upon. Of course those blind followers would remain pro-Russian if Russia should persist in actively pushing on her policy of fascination; but as their attitude. does not rest on a solid foundation they may abandon it any time. when affairs take a turn unfavorable for Russia. For it must be remembered that by no means the whole of the higher classes of Tibet are even passive supporters of the policy marked out by the Dalai Lama and his trusted lieutenants. On the contrary, there are some few who are secretly suspicious of the motives of Russia. The Czar, they think, may be the sovereign who is the incarnate Founder, but his very munificence towards Tibet may have some deep meaning at bottom. That munificence may not be for nothing; if it is, then Russia must be regarded as a country composed of people who are quite godly-a very rare thing in this world of give and take, where selfishness is a guiding motive. Is it not more reasonable and safer to interpret those repeated acts of outward friendship as coming from her ambitious design to place a snare before Tibet and finally to absorb the country? But such ideas are, I say, confined to only a very limited section, and are exchanged in whispers between confidential friends. They do not seem to have reached the ears of the Dalai Lama and the senior premier.

DOSTOYEVSKY.

BY THE EDITOR.

A

READER has called my attention to Dostoyevsky's instructive little fable of "The Onion" which is found in the great Russian's novel, The Brothers Karamazov, and reads as follows:

"Once upon a time there was a peasant woman, and a very wicked woman she was. And she died and did not leave a single good deed behind. The devils caught her and plunged her into the lake of fire. So her guardian angel stood and wondered what good deed of hers he could remember to tell to God. 'She once pulled up an onion in her garden,' said he, 'and gave it to a beggar And God answered: 'You take that onion then, hold it out to her in the lake, and let her take hold and be pulled out. If you can pull her out of the lake, let her come to Paradise; but if the onion breaks, then the woman must stay where she is.' The angel ran to the woman and held out the onion to her. 'Come,' said he, 'catch hold and I'll pull you out," and he began cautiously pulling her out. He had just pulled her out, when the other sinners in the lake, seeing how she was being drawn out, began catching hold of her so as to be pulled out with her. But she was a very wicked woman and she began kicking them. 'I'm to be pulled out, not you. It's my onion, not yours.' As soon as she said that the onion broke, and the woman fell into the lake and she is burning. there to this day."

Having myself written a little tale, the story of the spider-web, to illustrate the same idea, I naturally take an interest in all kindred expositions and come to the conclusion that this doctrine must be a very ancient inheritance of the human race, likely of a pre-Christian date. According to my version an evil-doer is suffering torture in hell, and when he calls on Buddha for succor the poor wretch cannot remember a single good deed he ever performed on earth. But the All-compassionate One, in his omniscience, recalls that once the