submitted it to the Emperor, who sent it to the Privy Council, established in 1888, for consideration. The Emperor himself presided over the deliberations of the Council and Ito tells us, he almost invariably showed a liberal conception of Imperial rights and duties.
The constitution being finally sanctioned by the Emperor was promulgated with great eclat and ceremony on 11th February, 1889. The dawn of the new era was commemorated by an amnesty to political prisoners. Thus the movement which began in 1867 received its fulfilment after a period of twenty years. In the universal joy and jubilation that followed, no criticism was passed on the constitution, all parties having accepted it as the best under the circumstances.
VICTORIOUS IN DEFEAT
(A Short Tale)
(From the Bengali of Rabindranath Tagore).
I.
THE princess was named Invicta (Aparájtá.) Her father's court-poet, Shekhar, had never seen a glimpse of her. And yet, when he read out to the king any new poem of his own, from the floor of the Court where he sat he raised his voice so high as to reach the years of the lady listeners sitting unseen behind the latticed screen of the upper gallery of that lofty hall,—as if he were sending his outburst of song towards an inaccessible starry realm, where the unknown guiding star of his life shone in invisible glory amidst a ring of luminaries.
At times he divined her by a shadow, at times he heard her in the tinkle of her anklets; and then he sat dreaming of the two feet, stirred by which the golden anklets were singing so rhythmically! Ah, with what a touch of blessedness, grace, and tenderness did those two fair, rosy, velvet feet meet the earth at every step! In the temple of his mind he set up these feet; before them he prostrated himself in his quiet hours, and set his songs to the tune of those tinkling anklets!
Whose shadow had he really seen? Whose anklets had rung in his ears? Such a question, such a doubt never assailed that adoring heart.
When Manjari, the princess's maid, went to the river side, she had to pass by Shekhar's house, and she was sure to exchange a word or two with him on her way. Of some morning or eventide when there were no people about in the road, she would even visit him in his rooms. I don't think it was really on business that she went to the water so often. And even if she had any business, one cannot fully explain why she should take pains to put on a gay coloured robe and ear-tops of mango-blossoms just before going to the ghat.
People whispered and giggled. And they were not to blame for it. Shekhar felt a particular delight in her presence, and hardly cared to conceal it.
Her name was Manjari, a name good enough for work-a-day people, as all must admit. But Shekhar went a step further and called her poetically Basanta-Manjari (Spring Bud). At this people shook their heads and said, "He is lost! He is lost!"
Nay more, in his odes to Spring one now and then came upon jingles like manjul banjul manjari. The tale had even reached the king's ears.
The king was greatly amused to hear of this sentimental effusion of his poet,—and chaffed him about it. Shekhar, too, gladly joined in the fun.
The king with a smile put the conundrum, "Does the bee only sing in the court of king Spring?" The poet answered, "No, he also sucks the honey of flower-buds."
In this way, they laughed and made fun. Methinks, in the royal harem the princess Invicta must have now and then jested with Manjari about it. And Manjari did not take it ill.
