If the almost fatal sickness of the Prince of Wales in 1871 was historic, from the sympathy it evoked and the influence it wielded, that of the King in June 1902 was infinitely more memorable. At the latter period the attention of the whole civilized world was focussed upon the figure of the Sovereign who was about to be crowned amid scenes of unprecedented splendour; the press of the Empire and the United States was filled with the record of his movements; the representatives of the Courts of Europe had arrived or were arriving; the Prime Ministers of a dozen countries and the Governors of many other countries of his far-flung realm were in London; dense crowds were swarming through the streets of the gaily-decorated metropolis; the approaching day was being looked forward to by many millions of people in many lands as an evidence, in its successful splendour, of the power and prosperity of the Empire. Three days before the 26th of June the King and Queen Alexandra had arrived in London from Windsor and the Coronation festivities proper had commenced. His Majesty had looked well and had smiled and bowed freely to the welcoming multitudes along the line of route. Rumors of his having caught cold had prevailed, it is true, and in certain sensational quarters there had been statements as to serious illness and even allegations of paralysis. But the evidence of that drive through the cheering streets of London was deemed conclusive and during that afternoon and the next morning the crowds increased and the excitement grew until sober-minded observers who had seen the celebrations of the Queen's Jubilee and the Diamond Jubilee and knew something of the millions then gathered together were dismayed at the prospect of the massed multitudes of Coronation day. It was at 12.45 P.M. on June 24th, when the streets were packed with moving, happy, holiday crowds and the decorations were nearing completion and their full effect and force becoming apparent to the on-lookers, that an official bulletin was posted at the Mansion House which seemed to reach every one in London at the same instant--so rapidly was the news spread. News that almost on the steps of the throne, within a day of the mightiest festival ever designed by human government and helped by a willing people, the King had been stricken down! It appeared incredible. The people of England and of the Empire were almost as dumb-founded as the masses on the streets of the Metropolis. But there was no way of getting beyond the simple words of the bulletin signed by Lord Lister, Sir Thomas Smith, Sir Francis Laking, Sir Thomas Barlow and Sir Frederick Treves: "The King is suffering from perityphlitis. His condition on Saturday was so satisfactory that it was hoped that with care His Majesty would be able to go through the ceremony. On Monday evening a recrudescence became manifest rendering a surgical operation necessary to-day."