Meanwhile, the temper of the Chinese people was sounded in a gratifying way. John Mott asked the Y.M.C.A. in China to raise $100,000 for the War Works Drive. I sat at dinner one evening with Liang Shih-yi and Chow Tsu-chi, and said: "A drive is going on in the United States to aid all the war works undertaken for the benefit of the soldiers at the front. Do you suppose that some of our friends in China would wish to contribute?" They both replied: "Yes, we are sure they would."

Two days elapsed. Chow Tsu-chi called, told me they had formed a National War Works Committee, and that local committees were being formed in every provincial capital. They raised, not $100,000, but more than $1,000,000!

It was the more remarkable because this way of contributing to a public purpose had never been tried in China. Only the Shun Tien Shih Pao of Peking, Japanese-controlled, threw cold water on the movement, saying that to be sending money to Europe while so many provinces in China themselves needed aid was peculiar.

The representatives of the Associated Powers met on October 18th. They felt that participation in the war had not united China; a clique had perverted it to factional uses. Each representative, it was agreed, should present instances in which the Central Government or local officials had obstructed action or been remiss. At the next meeting, on the 28th, I had prepared a memorandum of instances; this was made the basis of a statement. A conference was to be held with the President of China, to be quite friendly, but to make manifest the grave shortcomings due to political vices. Thus, it was thought, the responsible and conscientious elements in the Government would be fortified against the clique that had invaded it. The Foreign Minister, however, asked that the conference be deferred, in order that the Government might strive to bring its action more completely into accord with its real desire. There was no threat in our suggestion. But publicists often overlooked its true object, and treated it as if it had been a condemnation of China rather than of the controlling clique in the Government.

Joy and cheerfulness greeted the news of the Armistice. The American Legation Band was the first to celebrate, with a detachment of marines it paraded the legation compounds; only the Japanese Legation sentinel failed to salute it; he had failed to gather its purport. At Sir John Jordan's personal invitation I joined the British Legation's impromptu festivities that night, with some members of my staff. Responding to Sir John's remarks of welcome, I spoke of the trinity of democratic peoples, the British, French, and Americans, as destined to lead the world to a fuller understanding of free institutions and popular rights.

In the continuous round of festivities and celebrations the foreign and Chinese communities joined whole-heartedly, with dinners, receptions, special meetings of societies, and finally a great national celebration on the 28th of November. We gave a reception on the 20th to the ministers of the Associated Powers. As each minister arrived, the national air of his country was played by the Marine Band. When the Russian minister came in, the band, without special instructions, played the old Russian Imperial hymn. Prince Koudacheff was moved, for this anthem was now outlawed in his country; he came to me in tears. Next day he showed me a song with music which he had suggested for adoption by the Siberian Government as the Russian national hymn. But at the solemn service held on the Sunday following, when the national airs of the different countries were played, when the turn came for the Russian hymn a pause was noted. Those conducting the service had ruled out the old Imperial hymn. As there was apparently no music available as a substitute, poor Russia had to go unsaluted.

From early in the morning of the national celebration, Chinese troops marched toward the Imperial City, where they lined the spacious interior courts. The legation guards followed. Multitudes of Europeans and Chinese flocked to the palace, where the diplomats were gathered, all but myself resplendent in gorgeous uniforms. The neutral ministers, too, were in attendance. The European adviser had found a precedent among peace celebrations in Europe, such as that after the Danish War and the Franco-Prussian War, in accordance with which the neutral ministers might attend, though peace was not fully concluded. Also, it was argued that the Chinese were celebrating the cessation of hostilities, and the participation of friendly representatives might be invited.

Whispered controversy was heard among the ministers. The representative of France, seeing senior neutral representatives ahead of him, said this occasion was different, and demanded that the rank of precedence be changed. Time was too short for so thorny a problem. We agreed to say nothing at all, but to walk in a group forming itself spontaneously.

We gathered in the pavilion of the Ta Ho-men, the gate which leads into the court immediately before the main Coronation Hall of the Imperial City. Here, in the very inner sanctuary of the thousand-year-old imperialism of China, the victory of freedom was celebrated. The square was massed with troops, Chinese and foreign. On the ascending terraces stood thousands of guests, the military and officials in uniform; over the balustrades waved forests of flags of the Associated Nations, as well as long floating banners with Chinese inscriptions in gold.

After the President had ascended the steps to the music of bands of the nations, bowed to all the flags, and made his address, aeroplanes appeared, dropping innumerable Chinese flags and messages of felicitation printed in gold on red; then they continued to circle above the Imperial City. While the military were marching to the gate, rockets were sent skyward; exploding, they released paper figures of animals, as well as soldiers and weapons of war, which floated a long time in the air. When the President left the Tung Hua Palace, where he had received thousands of guests, the aeroplanes preceded him on his ride to his own residence.