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As I look back down a enough, but all alike imbued long vista of memories, in with the atmosphere of myswhich M'Quigg and old Kuan tery and awe essential to the figure against a dim back- Oriental mind on such occaground of ever-shifting scenes, sions. From all these rumours my thoughts generally turn, there gradually emerged the sooner or later, to certain red- melancholy fact that in his letter days and nights, which lonely pavilion of the “Ocean stand out clearly from the Terrace," brow - beaten and level monotone of our exotic friendless to the last, his existence at Peking, like trees Majesty Kuang Hsü had come beside a long and dusty road. to his end, seen off on that One of these I remember with long journey by the ruthless especial vividness of detail-old Dowager and by his own the 15th of November 1908, a grim, forbidding Consort. day that left its mark on death, of course, had not been China's history. On the previ- unexpected. For several days ous day rumour, thousand- edicts had reported the coming tongued, had run, swiftly and going of famous physicians, spreading, from the Imperial and on the 13th, the Empress City. The Son of Heaven, by Dowager had appointed Prince all accounts, was dead. Many Ch'un Regent and his infant and various were the versions son Heir Apparent. Also, ever given of the death-bed scene, since the Old Buddha had desome (concocted for, or by, prived him of all power and foreign journalists) obviously dignity after the coup-d'état of fantastic, others plausible '98, he had been so often reVOL. CCXV.—NO. MCCXCIX.


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