Yesterday some Chinese whom I had known in the old days came stealthily to see me, and as soon as they were alone with me, without excuse or warning, they fell on their knees and began bitterly weeping. How sad, indeed, they were, these respectable people of the Chinese _bourgeoisie_--so sad that for a long time I could not persuade them to speak. Yet even as they wept they were dignified in a curious way, and you felt that you were in the presence of men who had only been cruelly wronged. At length they began speaking. They had lost everything, absolutely everything, they said, what with the Boxers and the sack, all this long, unending Reign of Terror. But that they did not mind. They were bitter and beyond consolation because they had lost the intangible--their honour. Each one had had women of their households violated. One, with many hideous details, told me how ... soldiers came in and violated all his womankind, young and old. That account, muttered to me with trembling lips, was no invention. Their blanched and haggard faces showed that it was only the truth they were speaking. About such elemental tragedies no one lies. I tried to comfort these poor men as best I could. I told them old sayings which had once been familiar to me; it was hard to know really what to do. Yet they at length became more philosophic, and said they understood that this was a visitation which the nation had deserved. China had been utterly wrong; it had been madness. Then they remained silent, and that silence was like a sermon straight from Heaven, both for them and for me. I saw dimly for a few seconds many things, and understood that it was useless saying more. But as they were wretchedly poor, I gave them silver from the rich men's houses, which seemed very Biblical--each man as much as he could carry--and told them that they could always come for more. I asked them also to tell all the people I had known to come, too; I would do as much as I could for all of them. So all to-day they have been coming, and I have showered largesse. A few households have thus some relief, but the last man who came told me that a Hanlin scholar, who was his neighbour--a learned man, who in the times of peace was courted by all--is now selling wretched little cakes down the side alleys so as to save himself and his few remaining relations from slow starvation. Such things are the dregs. It is too much.... X PICKING UP THREADS September, 1900. * * * * *