She is a great believer in one of the rules that Confucius lays down for the attainment of “Illustrious Virtue”; she “cultivates her person.” She is always immaculately neat. She designs her own dresses, and has her jewels set according to her own directions. She is very artistic in the arrangement of her flowers and jewels, and sees that they harmonize with her toilet. She has excellent taste in the choice of colors, and I never saw her with an unbecoming color on, except the Imperial yellow. This was not becoming, but she was obliged to wear it on all official occasions. She used to modify it, as much as possible, by the trimmings, and would sometimes have it so heavily embroidered that the original color was hardly visible. She is a great epicure, and often designs new and dainty dishes. She has perfumes and soaps for her own use, made in the Palace. Although there are quantities of French and German soaps and perfumes bought for the Palace, she prefers an almond paste that she has made and often uses the soap made in the Palace. The maids would make these under her supervision. I have frequently seen them bring the mortar in which they were stirring it to Her Majesty, that she might see its progress, and she would energetically stir it herself. She is also a great lover of perfumes, and herself combines the oils of different flowers so as to produce most subtle and delightful perfumes. The Chinese say “colors, odors, and perfumes are good for the soul.” The Empress Dowager’s soul was certainly well cared for in this respect. The Chinese are so near to nature, so simple in every way, that their influence over animals and birds is extraordinary, and seems to us almost magical. They are very fond of all animals, and especially so of birds. They train and teach these latter in wonderful ways. I have often seen a Chinese go near a singing bird’s cage and tell it to sing, and it would pour forth its little heart in melody. Birds never seem to have any fear of them. In the afternoons, in early spring, or on a fine day in winter, one may see hundreds of well-dressed and dignified men each carrying a covered bird cage, taking the birds out for the air. When they arrive at some open space in the city, or beautiful spot in the environs, they uncover the cages and hold them aloft, or simply sit with them on their knees, and the bird will sing as if its little throat would burst. They have absolutely no fear, and, though caged, seem to have a perfect understanding with their owners and obey their voices. They are often let out of the cages when taken out for exercise, but they will return to them at the call of their owners; and these birds are not hatched in cages--they are taken from the forests and trained.