The glorious rays of the sun burst through it the eastern hills. From night to day is but a moment. There is no lingering dawn. The country is ablaze with colour, and yet the autumn is well advanced towards the so-called St. Martin's summer. In spite of the early hour, the streets of Pekin show unusual bustle. These endless thoroughfares, which on ordinary mornings are so gloomy and deserted, have awaked to life. At the doors of those quaint and attractive shops, full of the strange odds and ends that are of perennial interest to the wanderer in the East, and at the street corners, groups of people are talking vivaciously. Curious eyes are peeping from little windows, and everybody is evidently in expectation of some unusual sight. But what gives the most unfamiliar aspect to the scene is that there are street-sweepers here and there, more or less busy at their work, and a few policemen, in the most fanciful uniforms. It is the day of the Imperial reception of the diplomatic corps. It is an innovation in the functions at the Court of the Dragon that the representatives of the Western nations should be annually received in state, a favour which has been granted since the Allies entered Pekin, one of the very few concessions, I am afraid, that have been granted. The Court passes the autumn in the beautiful residence some sixteen miles from the city. We are compelled to travel all this way, and by any means we may find convenient, as there is no railway. Some are riding, some are carried in old-fashioned canopied palanquins. I see the conservative representative of Portugal carried by a magnificent team of stalwart Cantonese, with endless pigtails and rich harness--I ought to say livery. Germany, on the contrary, rattles over the most impracticable, neglected highway in a Tyrolean carriage, an object of great wonder and interest to the natives, as it is the first and only four-wheeler in the city. It is a long journey, but not devoid of interest. We pass through a series of villages and hamlets, each of them teeming with busy life. I must say the energy and industry of the Chinese fill me with admiration. All along the road we meet people bearing signs of trade or commerce. Some are carrying huge baskets of fruit, of flowers, or grain. Others are laden with many kinds of goods. Many push wheelbarrows burdened with more than a European cart could bear. Caravans of heavy Mongolian camels roped together travel to and fro in one never-ending, sinuous line. But the greater part of the traffic is absorbed by the Imperial household.