the British and the German forces would soon aggregate 10,000 men. Tientsin fell before the allies on July 14, three days before the arrival of the fresh troops from Japan. After three weeks at Tientsin during which nothing could be done, 15,780 allied forces, of which 8000 were the Japanese, began to march toward Peking on August 4. All along the way there were sanguinary encounters with the Boxers and Chinese troops, so that the allies probably lost 800 men before they reached Peking on August 14. The Japanese soldiers, after a terrible battle lasting for nearly fifteen hours till 9.50 P. M., bombarded the eastern walls at two of the gates and rushed into the Forbidden City, while previously a column dispatched by them had led the rest of the allied forces toward the British legation through the gate which the Russians had exploded about 5 P. M. With what wild burst of joy and enthusiasm the foreigners, who had been defending themselves under unspeakable difficulties within the walls of the British legation, received the triumphant entry of the allied soldiers may better be imagined than told. The siege had at length been raised, the imperial court had fled toward Si-ngan, and the capital of China fell into the hands of the powers. It is unnecessary to remind the reader that all during this memorable campaign the Japanese soldiers won universal praise for their dash and discipline. With no less admiration were their commissariat system and method of transportation regarded by their comrades. Repeatedly was it seen by impartial observers that even in orderliness among themselves and just and moderate treatment of the non-combatants, the troops of the non-Christian Japan were behind those of no Christian country then represented in North China. They excelled also in the power of organization and control in their dealings with the people of Peking, who had come under the provisional government of the conquering powers. All these merits were externally visible, but only the Japanese soldier himself will know what burning love of his country's name, which he carried deep in his bosom, animated him with courage and patience and bridled his animal passion. He marched shoulder to shoulder with the troops of the powers, three of which had five years before treated his country with indignity and forced her to forsake the price of the blood of her sons only to appropriate it for themselves. He could now show them that he had not been forever reduced by them into an insignificant position, but, on the contrary, had advanced beyond his former degree of military efficiency, and could vie with any one of them either in the art of war or in the moral qualities that constitute the modern soldier. His experience was invaluable both in training his mind and body and in demonstrating anew that, after all, his racial identity was hardly a bar against his full participation in the arts of civilization. As precious