tention. It is what was the secret to his foreign policy.
He certainly did not aspire, as many thought, to contest unaided the
palm of superiority with Russia in Central Asia. He was far too well
informed to dream of that. Nor could he expect to be able to extend his
power to the south, where both Afghanistan and Cashmere would resent his
presence. The only option left to him as a conqueror was to continue
aggrandizing himself at the expense of China. We know not what dreams
may have entered the mind of the stanch Mussulman in his palace at
Kashgar of uniting in one crusade against China all the followers of the
Prophet in Central Asia and of emulating the deeds of some of his
predecessors who had carried fire and sword into the border provinces of
China, and whom even the Great Wall could not withstand. Over these
bright imaginings, arising from tales told of the decadence of China, we
know not how much Yakoob Beg may have brooded as he saw his power spread
eastward through fifteen degrees of longitude, through Aksu to Kucha,
Kucha to Korla, Korla to Karashar, and Karashar to Turfan, until from
his far outpost at Chightam he could almost see the rich cities of Hamil
and Barkul, cities which are the key to Western China and Northern
Tibet, and imagine them to be within his grasp. But the policy of Yakoob
Beg will not be clearly appreciated, unless we bear in mind that these
ambitious longings were held in check by fear of Russia, and by the
hostility of the Tungani, who continued to plot even when subdued. His
keen spirit must have chafed greatly under the inability to accomplish
that which he conceived to be possible, and despite his numerous
triumphs he was at heart a disappointed man.

Moreover, during these later years, when the task he had set before him
had been nearly accomplished, and he had leisure to look around, he was
no longer young or as energetic as he had been. He was entering, for an
Asiatic, upon the evening of life, and had no longer the physical power
to essay any protracted and desperate enterprise. For a "forlorn hope"
he was as eager and as effective as ever, but for those undertakings
which require not only desperate courage but also forethought and
patience he was no longer fit. But the Chinese invasion dispelled all
these, and many other illusions. In their eyes and before their power,
he was only another Sultan of Talifoo. His great qualities, which
attracted sympathy and a certain amount of re