I tried to quiet his apprehensions by speaking of the educational work of missionaries, of the fact that they, also, respected the great sage; but it was hard to allay his opposition.
The magistrate was jovial, laughing uproariously at the mildest joke. When we arose from the table, the Duke took us to the apartments of the Duchess, who was staying with the infant daughter recently born, their first child. The Duchess was his second wife, and he was considerably her senior. The little lady seemed to be particularly fond of cats, of which at least forty were playing about her; one of these she presented to Mrs. Adams.
The great Temple of Confucius immediately adjoins the palace. Although the afternoon was wearing on, we still had time to visit it and to wander about in its noble courts. The pillars in the main halls are adorned by marvellous sculpture, and the temple is remarkable for the refined beauty of the structures composing it and for the serene dignity of its aspect. Adjoining the main temple is an ancient well near which stood the original house of Confucius. Stone reliefs present in a long series the history of Confucius in pictures, and there is a great collection of instruments used in performing the classical music. But the chief charm of the temple lies in the vistas afforded by its courts, set with magnificent trees and with the monuments of the past seventy generations.
It was dark when we had finished our visit to the temple. We bade the Duke farewell, and our cavalcade, starting back to the station, was now made picturesque by the flaring torches and the huge paper lanterns which were carried alongside each chair and cart. Slowly the procession wound its way back over the dark plains toward the lights of the station platform and the emblems of a mechanical civilization that contrasted at every point with the life we had seen. The Duke had regretted having objected so strongly to the proposal to bring the railway closer to the town, for it was of inconvenience to visitors; but he felt, after all, that the great sage himself would always prefer the peacefulness and quiet of the older civilization.
I revisited Chüfu three years later, this time with Mr. Charles R. Crane and Mrs. Reinsch, who had been unable to accompany me on the first visit. The officials were expecting us, and everywhere we were followed with attentions. Not satisfied with giving us two private cars, the railway officials insisted that we have a special engine, too. In the region of Chüfu we gathered an army of military escorts. Arriving at the palace, the Duke greeted us with a child on either arm. The little daughter was now over three, the son slightly over one year old. I have never seen any one who appeared more devoted to his children than the Duke. He always had them with him, carried them about, playing with them and fondling them. When he and the Duchess visited us in Peking he brought the two little ones, and they and my small children played long together joyfully and to the amusement of their elders. The Duke was tall, broad-shouldered, aristocratic looking. While not credited with great ability, he was undoubtedly a man of intelligence, although his education had been narrowly classical and had not given him contact with the world's affairs. He was seventy-third in line from the great sage. At that time he was engaged especially with plans to create in Chüfu a university wherein the Confucian tradition should be preserved in its purity, but which should also teach modern science.
Once during the revolution against the Manchus the Duke was considered a possible successor to the throne. If the country had had a Chinese family of great prominence in affairs, the transfer of the monarchy to a Chinese house might have been accomplished, but the Duke was by no means a man of action or a politician. Neither had the descendants of the Ming, Sung, and Chow emperors, or of other Imperial houses, sufficient prominence or genius for leadership to command national attention.
The title of the Holy Duke is the only one in China which remains permanently the same. Under the empire, titles were granted, but in each succeeding generation the rank was lowered by one grade until the status of a commoner had again been reached. By this arrangement, under which noble rank gradually "petered out," China escaped the creation of a class or caste of nobility.