All the officials we interviewed always ended their encomiums on the suggested scheme by a saving clause to the effect that, before we did anything, we must ask his Excellency Chang-Chih-Tung. When we passed through Peking the first time we failed to see him, and it was therefore with some anxiety I sought an interview with him on our return journey. Chang was a figure in the politics of China whose importance it would be hard to over-estimate. Not that he had the reputation for being a peculiarly able man; in fact, some of the Europeans spoke slightingly of his mentality. His force and influence came rather from his moral qualities. He was the perfect type of Confucian scholar. Wonderfully well versed in all the knowledge of the literati of China, he was far from despising any form of knowledge; in fact, he was one of the first of the statesmen of China to recognise the importance of Western education. When we were discussing with some leading merchants the want of integrity of many of the officials, they claimed Chang as an exception with enthusiasm. He had held the highest offices and still remained comparatively poor. His reputation for clean-handedness was enhanced by his age. In China the old are greatly reverenced, and an old, honest, and learned statesman combined three of the qualities most admired in China. It was therefore with some trepidation that I {322} found myself going to see a man whose moral authority was so great that he could with a word mar or make the University scheme as far as the power of the Chinese officials extended, and in his case this was very far. I was alone, for owing to the rather heated debates that divided the British and Chinese Governments over the Canton-Wuchang Railway, it was thought advisable that no member of the Legation should come with me. I drove down to the north end of the city, and turning down a by-lane, scarcely wide enough for the carriage to pass, we drew up opposite a very modest dwelling. I was received by His Excellency's nephew, a man of extremely courtly manners; and as he conducted me across the yard I was struck by the simplicity of the house. The room, for instance, into which I was ushered had a brick floor, and was separated from the courtyard only by a paper and wood screen. Imagine what the intense cold must be in a Peking winter when the thermometer is somewhere below zero! The furniture of the room was equally simple. Two Chinese chairs of the Chinese guest-room pattern, standing on each side of the usual Chinese table, were supported on the other side of the room by a token of the ever-encroaching West in the shape of a common round table and some mongrel-looking stools, which looked as if they were productions of Japan palmed off as European.