The edict in which she published to the world her degradation of Prince Kung in April, 1865, is like an Æschylean chorus. Success followed by insolence; insolence by Nemesis. I have no doubt that his somewhat abrupt manner might have been very offensive to august ears; but if it be true that he told the two Empresses that if they sat upon their thrones behind the curtain it was because he had so willed it, there is no wonder that an Empress imbued with the spirit of a Tudor queen should have refused to brook such language as that. In a month, however, the necessary man was once more called into favour, and then it was that I first saw him. I had a great admiration for Prince Kung. It was impossible not to be attracted by his _bonhomie_ and his pleasant manner. To me, as I have said, he was always specially courteous. I do not suppose that he had any greater love of the foreign devils than the rest of his countrymen; but if he hated us he had the wisdom to mask his dislike. The documents which successive crises have brought to light have taught us many a lesson. Your Chinese gentleman is a great scribe, and rather than suffer his pen to be idle he will console himself in difficult moments by writing down voluminous indiscretions; and so it has become pretty evident that even those among the Chinese statesmen who professed the greatest friendship for us in their hearts hated us. The Empress Tsŭ Hsi herself, when she coaxed and talked soft nonsense to the wives of the Foreign Ministers, told Jung Lu that she knew how to win them to her side with rich gifts and honeyed words. How she fooled the dear ladies to their hearts’ content is well told by Messrs. Bland and Backhouse. Nor is this feeling to be wondered at. We were self-invited guests in her country; we needed the trade, export and import, of the Chinese who, until we came, were self-sufficing; opium and grey shirtings notwithstanding, in their view we brought nothing but trouble upon them.