“The merciful man has no enemies.” This was the legend that met the eye of General Kuroki when he dismounted to receive the welcome of the Governor of Feng-hoang-cheng. Despite the cyclones of passion that sweep over this Empire the Chinese are no lovers of brute force. The Confucian doctrine of life which has dominated China for two thousand five hundred years does not tend to develop the aggressive virtues, and this legend, inscribed in crimson upon a scroll of white silk, represents the attitude of the Chinaman toward all matters that do not appear to touch his rights or his dignity. The Chinese are punctilious in the discharge of all the obligations of courtesy, and their greeting of the victorious soldier was marked with a kindliness, a dignity and an æsthetic taste of which I found evidences in every direction and among all classes. The scene was more strange than impressive. Upon the dusty plain, which stretches before the city down to the bank of the shallow river, was assembled a crowd of civilians and soldiers and officials. Under a rude pavilion, draped with crimson and adorned with the motto “The merciful man has no enemies,” sat the Governors of the Province, the city and the garrison, with others who were in authority over the people. Their loose surcoats were of many colours--deep violet, and crimson and blue, and the sheen of their silken garments was lustrous in the brilliant sunshine. They sat by the roadside after the manner of the East. In the dark shadow of brick walls lounged soldiers whose dress differed little from that of the civilian--a loose robe of indigo blue and a pair of wide trousers ending in a pair of felt shoes. [Illustration: City Wall, Feng-Huang-Cheng.] [Illustration: A Street Scene, Feng-Huang-Cheng.]