After dinner that evening, accompanied by a friend staying at the same hotel, I strolled down to the Public Gardens, where the police band was playing and the “beauty and fashion” of Macao assembled. They were crowded with gay promenaders. Trim Portuguese naval or military officers, brightly dressed ladies, soldiers, civilians, priests and laity strolled up and down the walks or sat on the benches. Sallow‐complexioned children chased each other round the flower‐beds. Opposite the bandstand stood a line of chairs reserved for the Governor and his party. We met some acquaintances among the few British residents in the colony; and one of them, being an honorary member of the Military Club situated at one end of the Gardens, invited us into it. We sat at one of the little tables on the terrace, where the élite of Macao drank their coffee and liqueurs, and watched the gay groups promenading below. The scene was animated and interesting, thoroughly typical of the way in which Continental nations enjoy outdoor life, as the English never can. Hong Kong, with all its wealth and large European population, has no similar social gathering‐place; and its citizens wrap themselves in truly British unneighbourly isolation. The government of Macao is administered from Portugal. The Governor is appointed from Europe; and the local Senate is vested solely with the municipal administration of the colony. The garrison consists of Portuguese artillerymen to man the forts and a regiment of Infantry of the Line, relieved regularly from Europe. There is also a battalion of police, supplemented by Indian and Chinese constables—the former recruited among the natives of the Portuguese territory of Goa on the Bombay coast, though many of the sepoys hail from British India. A gunboat is generally stationed in the harbour. The troubles all over China in 1900 had a disturbing influence even in this isolated Portuguese colony. An attack from Canton was feared in Macao as well as in Hong Kong; and the utmost vigilance was observed by the garrison. One night heavy firing was heard from the direction of the Porta Cerco, the barrier on the isthmus. It was thought that the Chinese were at last descending on the settlement. The alarm sounded and the troops were called out. Sailors were landed from the _Zaire_ with machine‐guns. A British resident in Macao told me that so prompt were the garrison in turning out that in twenty minutes all were at their posts and every position for defence occupied. At each street‐corner stood a strong guard; and machine‐guns were placed so as to prevent any attempt on the part of the Chinese in the city to aid their fellow‐countrymen outside. However, it was found that the alarm was occasioned by the villagers who lived just outside the boundary, firing on the guards at the barrier in revenge for the continual insults to which their women, when passing in and out to market in Macao, were subjected by the Portuguese soldiers at the gate.