I suppose in some subtle way the conviction is being gradually forced home that something must really be done to try and ameliorate the general situation. It could obviously not go on forever in this way, with the commanders of the rival columns almost fighting among themselves, and with everybody quietly looting, and our Ministers, who have lost so much, just twiddling their thumbs and delaying their departure because they are afraid of worse things happening. So somebody has been getting into communication with whoever represents the last vestiges of Chinese authority in this ruined capital, and diligent search has discovered that there are actually a few high officials left and a great number of smaller ones. These have all shown a trembling haste to oblige; and after some _pourparlers_, there is now a faint possibility of a _modus vivendi_ being arranged during the next few weeks. For it soon transpired, after the confidence of these remaining officials had been gained, that Prince Ching had been discreetly dropped by the fleeing Court only about fifty miles to the southwest of Peking--dropped just behind the first mountain barriers, so that he was at once safe and yet within easy call. He had been in waiting there for weeks, it appears. Sage old man! Those conciliatory despatches, coming from the officers of the defunct Tsung-li Yamen, have made of this old Manchu prince the natural person to bridge over the ever-widening gulf the Court has dug by its insanity. People remember now that this procedure of leaving behind a Prince to begin the first _pourparlers_ is only the precedent of 1860. Then Prince Kung played exactly the same _role_ when the Court had fled to Jehol. Prince Ching fenced a long time before he would move forward, or even disclose his safe hiding-place; but in the end he was prevailed upon by some one. And yesterday he actually entered Peking through the same Northern Gates which witnessed the mad flight of the Court a month ago.