his four Commissioners of Customs were driving, like the Marquis of
Carabbas, in a glass coach through the streets of Vienna. The Chinese
spared neither pains nor expense to make a good showing, and gave a
gala performance at the Opera in return for Austrian hospitality.

In 1878 came the Paris Exhibition, and to this he went himself as
President of the Chinese Government's Commission. He arrived in Paris
just before the Exhibition opened--just in time to be present at the
great opening ceremony in fact. This was a very grand affair, but
with--for him--a ludicrous climax. Coming away, he and his secretary
lost their carriage in the crowd, and had to walk the whole way home,
not a cab being obtainable--and this, too, in elaborate and heavy
uniforms, and at the risk of being hooted by _gamins_. But by good
luck, in those days gold lace and medals were so plentiful that they
attracted no embarrassing attention.

[Illustration: SIR ROBERT HART IN 1878.]

Numberless functions, of course, took place in connection with the
Exhibition, and scarcely a night passed without some gigantic official
reception at which two or three thousand people were present. The
Minister of Education, for example, gave a magnificent _soirée_ at
which the old dances, the stately minuet and the graceful pavane, were
danced in splendid and appropriate costumes. Bernhardt, then at the
height of her powers, recited one night at the Élysée; so also did
Coquelin. But to Robert Hart these "crushes" were often an ordeal.
Conventional entertainments never had a great attraction for him;
besides, these gatherings were really too big for any one's comfort or
pleasure; conversation was nearly impossible, and nobody felt at home.