to and fro;
at length one fell to the ground; there was dead silence as it was
raised by a priest and handed to the Emperor. _It was a short one!_
Dismay fell on every one present, no one daring to break the painful,
horrible silence. After a pause the Emperor, with a cry of mingled
rage and despair, dashed the slip to the ground, exclaiming: "May this
temple built by my ancestors evermore be accursed! Henceforward may
every suppliant be denied what he entreats, as I have been! Those
who come in sorrow, may that sorrow be doubled; in happiness, may
that happiness be changed to misery; in hope, may they meet despair;
in health, sickness; in the pride of life and strength, death! I,
Ch'ung Cheng, the last of the Mings, curse it!"

Without another word he retired, followed by his courtiers, proceeded
at once to the palace, and went straight to the apartments of the
Empress. The next morning he and his Empress were found suspended from
a tree on Prospect Hill. "In their death they were not divided." The
scenes that followed; how the rebels took possession of the city and
were driven out again by the Chinese general, assisted by the Tartars;
how the Tartars finally succeeded in establishing the Manchu dynasty,
are all matters of history. The words used by the Emperor at the
temple were prophetic; he _was_ the last of the Mings. The tree on
which the monarch of a mighty Empire closed his career and brought
the Ming dynasty to an end was ordered to be surrounded with chains;
it still exists, and is still in chains. Upward of two hundred
and seventy years have passed since that time, yet the temple is
standing as of old; but the halls that at one time were crowded with
worshippers are now silent, no one ever venturing to worship there;
it is the resort of the fox and the bat, and people at night pass it
shudderingly--"It is the cursed temple!"

The Maniac's Mite

An interesting story is told of a lady named Ch'en, who was a
Buddhist nun celebrated for her virtue and austerity. Between the
years 1628 and 1643 she left her nunnery near Wei-hai city and set
out on a long journey for the purpose of collecting subscriptions for
casting a new image of the Buddha. She wandered through Shantung and
Chihli and finally reached Peking, and there--subscription-book in
hand--she stationed herself at the great south gate in order to take
toll from those who wished to lay up for themselves treasures in the
Western Heaven. The first pas