The dynasty was still left standing, but in all other respects the desires of the Revolutionists had been sanctioned by the Sovereign. The Throne itself had been stripped of its power and prestige, and had been forced to act at the dictation of the National Assembly. The surrender on paper appeared to be complete, though it must be steadily kept in mind that in China, less perhaps than in any other land, are promises and concessions always held to be irrevocable. Yuan Shih K'ai had been invested with an authority which was practically supreme. He was at once Prime Minister and Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy employed against the Yangtsze Revolutionists. In the best interests of the Chinese people it was to be hoped that they had been inspired by an unfeigned desire on both sides to reach an accommodation without further bloodshed; but in no country are delusive negotiations more habitually employed than in China as a means of gaining time, and it was at least conceivable that in the present crisis each leader would believe that time was on his side. In a few days it was expected that Yuan Shi K'ai's party would show what degree of influence it could exert over the insurgent provinces. The number of these provinces continued to grow, and, in at least some instances, the movement in them seemed to be deeply tinged with a particularism which tended strongly towards separatism. The Empire was, indeed, as a writer in the _Times_ put it, "bubbling like a cauldron," but a good many of the bubbles may subside, under judicious handling, with surprising rapidity. What seemed certain, however, so far as anything is certain in China, was that the old Monarchy had fallen never to rise again, and that it would drag down much in China in its fall. It had long survived its day. Its servants, like the servants of Solomon in the Koran, had propped up a corpse and summoned {154} kings and princes to do it homage. They bowed down before it, says the story, so long as it stood upright. But at last the worms gnawed away the staff on which it rested, it lay prone in the dust, and the world fell into confusion. With the fall of Hanyang, millions of people, Chinese and foreigners, were speaking or thinking chiefly of one question those days, What would be the fate of the rebellion? Bound up in this question were many others, its corollaries. Would the rebellion be now speedily crushed, or succumb only after a prolonged civil war which would sap the already decimated resources of the country, partly suspend and disorganise business, and cause enormous destruction to life and property? Or would the Revolutionary forces quickly defeat the Government armies, acquire following and resources by success, and replace the existing Government at Peking with another and, if so, what kind of Government?