"In the ritual, we shall introduce some changes appropriate to republicanism," Mr. Chu assured me. "I am myself designing a special ceremonial dress to be worn by those participating, and the music and liturgy will be somewhat changed." But it was difficult to see wherein consisted the specific republican bias of the changes. Yuan Shih-kai did proceed to the Temple of Heaven before daybreak on December 23rd; in the dark of the morning the President drove to that wonderfully dignified open-air sanctuary in its large sacred grove along the southern wall of the Chinese city. He drove surrounded by personal bodyguards over streets covered with yellow sand and lined three-fold with soldiers stationed there the evening before. With him were the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, the Master of Ceremonies, the Censor General, the Minister of War, and a staff of other high officials and generals. Arrived at the temple, he changed his uniform for the sacrificial robes and hat, and, after ablutions, proceeded together with all the other dignitaries to the great circular altar, which he ascended. He was there joined by the sacrificial meat-bearers, the silk and jade bearers, the cupbearers, and those who chanted invocations. In succession the different ceremonial offerings were brought forward and presented to Heaven with many series of bows. A prayer was then offered, as follows:
Heaven, Thou dost look down on us and givest us the nation. All-seeing and all-hearing, everywhere, yet how near and how close: We come before Thee on this winter solstice day when the air assumes a new life; in spirit devout, and with ceremony old, we offer to Thee jade, silk, and meat. May our prayer and offerings rise unto Thee together with sweet incense. We sanctify ourselves and pray that Thou accept our offerings.
The first Confucian ceremony, which the President attended in person at four o'clock in the morning, took place about two months later. A complete rehearsal of the ceremony, with all details, had been held on the preceding afternoon. Many foreigners were present. Passing from the entrance of the Temple, between rows of immemorial ilex trees, and through lofty porticoes, in one of which are preserved the famous stone drums which date from the time of the Sage, the visitors entered the innermost enclosure. It, too, is set with ancient trees, which, however, leave the central portion open. The musical instruments were placed on the platform in front of the main temple hall. Here the ceremony itself was enacted, while the surface of the court was filled with members of the Confucian Society, ranks of dignified long-gowned men, members of the best classes of Peking.
I was told that the music played on this occasion was a modification of the classic strains which had from time immemorial been heard here. Perfect knowledge of this music seems no longer to exist. The music accompanying the ceremony was nevertheless attractive, produced with jade plaques, flutes, long-stringed instruments resembling small harps, but with strings of more uniform length, drums, and cymbals. A dominant note was struck on one of the jade plaques, whereupon all the instruments fell in with a humming sound, held for fully a minute, which resembled the murmur of forest trees or the surging of waves. There was no melody; only a succession of dominants, with the accompaniment of this flow of sound surging up, then ebbing and receding. One of the instruments is most curious, in the shape of a leopard-like animal, in whose back there are closely set about twenty small boards. At certain stages of the music a stick is rapidly passed over these boards, giving a very peculiar punctuation to the strains that are being played.
The chief dignitaries officiating were Mr. Chu Chi-chien, the Minister of the Interior, and Mr. Sun Pao-chi, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, gorgeous in their newly devised ceremonial costumes. The splendid and dignified surroundings of the temple courts enhanced the ceremony, but it depended for its effect on the manner of chanting, the music, and the very dignified demeanour of all who participated. Quite apart from the question of the advisability of a state religion or the possible reactionary influences which such ceremonies might have, I could not but feel that the refusal to cast off entirely such traditions was inspired by sound instinct.
Moreover, this revival came during the adoption of new ways. Chinese ladies came out in general society for the first time on the night of the 5th of February, at the Foreign Office ball. Many representatives of the outlying dependencies of China were there in picturesque costumes, invariably exhibiting a natural self-confidence which made them seem entirely in place in these modern surroundings. The Foreign Office building, planned by an American architect, contains on the main floor an impressive suite of apartments so arranged as to give ample space for large entertainments, while it affords every opportunity for the more intimate gathering of smaller groups. Guests were promenading through the long rows of apartments from the ballroom, where the excellent Navy Band was playing for the dancers.
The Chinese women gave no hint of being unaccustomed to such general gatherings of society, but bore themselves with natural ease and dignity. Nor did they conceal their somewhat amused interest in the forms of the modern dance; for only a few of the younger Chinese ladies had at that time acquired this Western art. The number of votaries, however, increased rapidly during the next few years.
From among the Tartars of the outlying regions this occasion was graced by a Living Buddha from Mongolia, to whom the Chinese officials were most attentive. Surrounded by a large retinue, he overtopped them all, and his bodily girth seemed enormous. He found his way early in the evening to a room where refreshments were being offered, took possession of a table, and proceeded to divest himself of seven or eight layers of outer garments. Thus reduced, he became a man of more normal dimensions. Several of his servitors then went foraging among the various tables, bringing choice dishes to which the Living Buddha did all justice. Long after midnight reports still came to the ballroom: "The Living Buddha is still eating."
It seems remarkable that Chinese women should so readily adapt themselves to wholly new situations. They have shown themselves capable of leadership in social, political, and scientific matters; a great many develop wide intellectual interests and manifest keen mental powers. When I gave the Commencement address at the Women's Medical College of Peking, the 13th of February, I was curious to see what types of Chinese women would devote themselves to a medical education. In this field Dr. King Ya-mei and Dr. Mary Stone are the pioneers. With the advance of modern medicine in China many Chinese women have adopted the career of nurses and of physicians. On this occasion the women students of the middle school sang various selections, and I was impressed with the cello-like quality of their alto voices. As customary on such occasions my address was made through an interpreter. The delivery of these chopped-off paragraphs can scarcely be inspiring, yet Chinese audiences are so courteous and attentive that they never give the speaker any suggestion of impatience.