soon made short work of twenty centuries of literature. Beautiful
silk-covered volumes, illumined by hand and written by masters of the
Chinese brush, were pitched unceremoniously here and there by the
thousand with utter disregard. Sometimes a sinologue, of whom there
are plenty in the Legations, unable to restrain himself at the sight
of these literary riches which in any other times would be utterly
beyond his reach, would select an armful of volumes and attempt to
fight his way back through the flames to where he might deposit his
burden in safety; but soon the way was barred by marines with stern
orders to stop such literary looting. Some of these books were worth
their weight in gold. A few managed to get through with their spoils,
and it is possible that missing copies of China's literature may be
some day resurrected in strange lands.

With such curious scenes proceeding these fires were checked in one
direction only to break out in another. For later on, sneaking in
under the cover of trees and the many massive buildings which pushed
up so close, Chinese marauders finding that they could escape, threw
torch after torch soaked in petroleum on the neighbouring roofs and
rafters. In some cases they forced our posts to seek cover by firing
on them very heavily, and then with a sudden dash they could
accomplish their deadly work at ease. At one time, thanks to this
policy, the outbuildings of the British Legation actually caught fire,
and the flames, urged on by a sharp north wind, lolled out their
tongues longingly towards the main buildings. Lines of men, women, and
children were hastily formed to our wells and hundreds of utensils of
the most incongruous character were brought into play. I came back to
find ladies of the Legations handing even _pots de chambre_ full of
water to the next person in the long chain which had been formed; and
among all these people who were at length willing to work because of