At length all was arranged. Their Excellencies in stars and orders, repair to the palace with their staffs. A long wait, with sweetmeats served, and then the audience.
The German minister, as the senior, reads a short address, and the envoys are named. Prince Ching takes their several letters of credit, and places them before the Son of Heaven. He kneels, and the Imperial youth speaks low a few words.
HOMAGE TO "THE SON OF HEAVEN."
The president of the Tsung Li Yâmen goes to the ministers, and repeats them. The audience is over—the spell is broken. But even now our old friend the Austrian minister, Baron Biegeleben, is finding great difficulty in arranging for the fitting reception of his Imperial and Apostolic Majesty's Commission.
It is time this nonsense ceased. If China is within the pale of nations, she must do as other nations do. If she is not within the roll of civilized States, she must be dealt with differently. Of two things, one!
Here is the Hall of Central Peace, where the Emperor examines and sanctions the prayers for state worship; the Hall of Secure Peace, where the highest literary degrees are conferred; and the palace of Heavenly Purity, where the Emperor in the still morning hour of three, transacts business with his ministers, and which no one enters or leaves without his express permission.
Here at sunrise, the petitions from the six Boards controlling Imperial affairs are submitted to the Vermilion Pencil of the Throne; the prayers also for present and posthumous honours.
Beyond stands the palace of Earth's Repose, where "Heaven's Consort" rules over her miniature court. Adjoining this is a flower garden. Then the Hall of Intense Thought; where sacrifices are made to Confucius, the teacher and thinker. There are other palaces and offices, amongst them a printing office, for the city is self-contained and need have no communication with the outer world. No one knows the population inside this Prohibited City, whether it is great or small. It is wrapped in mystery, and the imagination is free to float round the holy of holies, this Unknown Capital of the Flowery Land.
There are said to be beautiful gardens, with fountains and cascades. But what can make up for the want of variety? Occasionally "the Son of Heaven" goes forth to worship the ashes of his ancestors, or the earth and the moon, at this or that temple.