Early on the 6th June an electric thrill ran through Peking—Yuan Shih-kai was dead! At first the news was not believed, but by eleven o’clock it was definitely known in the Legation Quarter that he had died a few minutes after ten o’clock that morning from uraemia of the blood—the surgeon of the French Legation being in attendance almost to the last. A certificate issued later by this gentleman immediately quieted the rumours of suicide, though many still refused to believe that he was actually dead. “I did not wish this end,” he is reported to have whispered hoarsely a few minutes before he expired, “I did not wish to be Emperor. Those around me said that the people wanted a king and named me for the Throne. I believed and was misled.” And in this way did his light flicker out. If there are sermons in stones and books in the running brooks surely there is an eloquent lesson in this tragedy! Before expiring the wretched man issued the following Death Mandate in accordance with the ancient tradition, attempting as the long night fell on him to make his peace with men:—
LAST MANDATE OF YUAN SHIH-KAI
The Min Kuo has been established for five years. Unworthily have I, the Great President, been entrusted with the great task by the citizens. Owing to my lack of virtue and ability I have not been able fully to transform into deeds what I have desired to accomplish; and I blush to say that I have not realized one ten-thousandth part of my original intention to save the country and