The Old World and Its Ways

The shape of the garment never changes, but the color does. This season grey has been the correct shade. Feminine pride shows itself in the obi, a broad sash or belt tied in a very stiff and incomprehensible bow at the back. The material used for the obi is often bright in color and of rich and expensive brocades. A wooden disc is often concealed within the bow of the obi to keep it in shape and also to brace the back. Two neck cloths are usually worn, folded inside the kimono to protect the bare throat. These harmonize with the obi in color and give a dainty finish to the costume. As the kimono is quite narrow in the skirt, the women take very short steps. This short step, coupled with the dragging of the sandals, makes the women's gait quite unlike the free stride of the American woman. In the middle and higher schools the girls wear a pleated skirt over the kimono. These are uniform for each school and wine color is the shade now prevailing. The men and women of the same class wear practically the same kind of shoes.

Next to the obi, the hair receives the greatest attention and it is certainly arranged with elaborate care. The process is so complicated that a hair dresser is employed once or twice a week and beetle's oil is used in many instances to make the hair smooth and glossy. At night the Japanese women place a very hard, round cushion under the neck in order to keep the hair from becoming disarranged. The stores now have on sale air pillows, which are more comfortable than the wooden ones formerly used. The vexing question of millinery is settled by dispensing with hats entirely. Among the poorer classes the hat is seldom used by the men.

More interesting in appearance than either the men or women are the children – and I may add that there is no evidence of race suicide in Japan. They are to be seen everywhere, and a good natured lot they are. The babies are carried on the back of the mother or an older child, and it is not unusual to see the baby fast asleep while the bearer goes about her work. Of the tens of thousands of babies we have seen, scarcely a half dozen have been crying. The younger children sometimes have the lower part of the head shaved, leaving a cap of long hair on the crown of the head. Occasionally a spot is shaved in the center of this cap. After seeing the children on the streets, one can better appreciate the Japanese dolls, which look so strange to American children.

Cleanliness is the passion of the Japanese. The daily bath is a matter of routine, and among the middle classes there are probably more who go above this average than below. It is said that in the city of Tokyo there are over eleven hundred public baths, and it is estimated that five hundred thousand baths are taken daily at these places. The usual charge is one and a quarter cents (in our money) for adults and one cent for children. One enthusiastic admirer of Japan declares that a Japanese boy, coming unexpectedly into the possession of a few cents, will be more apt to spend it on a bath than on something to eat or drink. The private houses have baths wherever the owners can afford them. The bath tub is made like a barrel – sometimes of stone, but more often of wood – and is sunk below the level of the floor. The favorite temperature is one hundred and ten degrees, and in the winter time the bath tub often takes the place of a stove. In fact, at the hot springs people have been known to remain in the bath for days at a time. I do not vouch for the statement, but Mr. Basil H. Chamberlain in his book entitled "Things Japanese," says that when he was at one of these hot springs "the caretaker of the establishment, a hale old man of eighty, used to stay in the bath during the entire winter." Until recently the men and women bathed promiscuously in the public baths; occasionally, but not always, a string separated the bathers. Now different apartments must be provided.

The Japanese are a very polite people. They have often been likened to the French in this respect – the French done in bronze, so to speak. They bow very low, and in exchanging salutations and farewells sometimes bow several times. When the parties are seated on the floor, they rise to the knees and bow the head to the floor. Servants, when they bring food to those who are seated on the floor, drop upon their knees and, bowing, present the tray.

In speaking of the people I desire to emphasize one conclusion that has been drawn from my observations here, viz., that I have never seen a more quiet, orderly or self-restrained people. I have visited all of the larger cities and several of the smaller ones, in all parts of the islands; have mingled in the crowds that assembled at Tokyo and at Yokohama at the time of the reception to Togo and during the naval review; have ridden through the streets in day time and at night; and have walked when the entire street was a mass of humanity. I have not seen one drunken native or witnessed a fight or altercation of any kind. This is the more remarkable when it is remembered that these have been gala days when the entire population turned out to display its patriotism and to enjoy a vacation.

The Japanese house deserves a somewhat extended description. It is built of wood, is one story in height, unpainted and has a thatched or a tile roof. The thatched roof is cheaper, but far less durable. Some of the temples and palaces have a roof constructed like a thatched roof in which the bark of the arbor vitæ is used in place of grass or straw. These roofs are often a foot thick and are quite imposing. In cities most buildings are roofed with tile of a pattern which has been used for hundreds of years. Shingles are sometimes used on newer structures, but they are not nearly so large as our shingles, and instead of being fastened with nails, are held in place by wire. On the business streets the houses are generally two stories, the merchant living above the store. The public buildings are now being constructed of brick and stone and modeled after the buildings of America and Europe. But returning to the native architecture – the house is really little more than a frame, for the dividing walls are sliding screens, and, except in cold weather, the outside walls are taken out during the day. The rooms open into each other, the hallway extending around the outside instead of going through the center. Frail sliding partitions covered with paper separate the rooms from the hall, glass being almost unknown. The floor is covered with a heavy matting two inches thick, and as these mats are of uniform size, six feet by three, the rooms are made to fit the mats, twelve feet square being the common size. As the walls of the room are not stationary, there is no place for the hanging of pictures, although the sliding walls are often richly decorated. Such pictures as the house contains are painted on silk or paper and are rolled up when not on exhibition. At one end of the room used for company, there is generally a raised platform upon which a pot of flowers or other ornament is placed, and above this there are one or two shelves, the upper one being inclosed in sliding doors. There are no bedsteads, the beds being made upon the floor and rolled up during the day. There are no tables or chairs. There is usually a diminutive desk about a foot high upon which writing material is placed. The writing is done with a brush and the writing case or box containing the brush, ink, etc., has furnished the lacquer industry with one of the most popular articles for ornamentation. The people sit upon cushions upon the floor and their meals are served upon trays.

Japanese food is so different from American food that it takes the visitor some time to acquire a fondness for it, more time than the tourist usually has at his disposal. With the masses rice is the staple article of diet, and it is the most palatable native dish that the foreigner finds here. The white rice raised in Japan is superior in quality to some of the rice raised in China, and the farmers are often compelled to sell good rice and buy the poorer quality. Millet, which is even cheaper, is used as a substitute for rice.

As might be expected in a seagirt land, fish, lobster, crab, shrimp, etc., take the place of meat, the fish being often served raw. As a matter of fact, it is sometimes brought to the table alive and carved in the presence of the guests. Sweet potatoes, pickled radishes, mushrooms, sea weed, barley and fruit give variety to the diet. The radishes are white and enormous in size. I saw some which were two feet long and two and a half inches in diameter. Another variety is conical in form and six or eight inches in diameter. I heard of a kind of turnip which grows so large that two of them make a load for the small Japanese horses. The chicken is found quite generally throughout the country, but is small like the fighting breeds or the Leghorns. Ducks, also, are plentiful. Milk is seldom used except in case of sickness, and butter is almost unknown among the masses.

But the subject of food led me away from the house. No description would be complete which did not mention the little gate through which the tiny door yard is entered; the low doorway upon which the foreigner constantly bumps his head, and the little garden at the rear of the house with its fish pond, its miniature mountains, its climbing vines and fragrant flowers. The dwarf trees are cultivated here, and they are a delight to the eye; gnarled and knotted pines two feet high and thirty or forty years old are not uncommon. Little maple trees are seen here fifty years old and looking all of their age, but only twelve inches in height. We saw a collection of these dwarf trees, several hundred in number, and one could almost imagine himself transported to the home of the brownies. Some of these trees bear fruit ludicrously large for the size of the tree. The houses are heated by charcoal fires in open urns or braziers, but an American would not be satisfied with the amount of heat supplied. These braziers are moved about the room as convenience requires and supply heat for the inevitable tea.

But I have reached the limit of this article and must defer until the next description of the Japanese customs as we found them in the homes which we were privileged to visit.

CHAPTER III.

JAPANESE CUSTOMS AND HOSPITALITY

Every nation has its customs, its way of doing things, and a nation's customs and ways are likely to be peculiar in proportion as the nation is isolated. In Japan, therefore, one would expect to see many strange things, and the expectation is more than realized. In some things their customs are exactly the opposite of ours. In writing they place their characters in vertical lines and move from right to left, while our letters are arranged on horizontal lines and read from left to right. Their books begin where ours end and end where ours begin. The Japanese carpenters pull the saw and plane toward them, while ours push them from them. The Japanese mounts his steed from the right, while the American mounts from the left; Japanese turn to the left, Americans to the right. Japanese write it "Smith John Mr.," while we say "Mr. John Smith." At dinners in Japan wine is served hot and soup cold, and the yard is generally at the back of the house instead of the front.

The Japanese wear white for mourning and often bury their dead in a sitting posture. The death is sometimes announced as occurring at the house when it actually occurred elsewhere, and the date of the death is fixed to suit the convenience of the family. This is partly due to the fact that the Japanese like to have the death appear as occurring at home. Sometimes funeral services are held over a part of the body. An American lady whose Japanese maid died while attending her mistress in the United States, reports an incident worth relating. The lady cabled her husband asking instructions in regard to the disposition of the body. He conferred with the family of the deceased and cabled back directing the wife to bring a lock of the hair and the false teeth of the departed. The instructions were followed and upon the delivery of these precious relics, they were interred with the usual ceremonies.

The handshake is uncommon even among Japanese politicians, except in their intercourse with foreigners. When Baron Komura returned from the peace conference in which he played so important a part, I was anxious to witness his landing, partly out of respect to the man and partly out of curiosity to see whether the threatened manifestations of disapproval would be made by the populace, it having been rumored that thousands of death lanterns were being prepared for a hostile parade. (It is needless to say that the threats did not materialize and that no expressions of disapproval were heard after his arrival.) I found it impossible to learn either the hour or the landing place, and, despairing of being present, started to visit a furniture factory to inspect some wood carving. Consul-General Jones of Dalney (near Port Arthur), then visiting in Yokohama, was my escort and, as good fortune would have it, we passed near the Detached Palace. Dr. Jones, hearing that the landing might be made there, obtained permission for us to await the peace commissioner's coming. We found Marquis Ito there and a half dozen other officials. As Baron Komura did not arrive for half an hour, it gave me the best opportunity that I could have had to become acquainted with the Marquis, who is the most influential man in Japan at present. He is President of the Privy Council of Elder Statesmen and is credited with being the most potent factor in the shaping of Japan's demands at Portsmouth.

When Baron Komura stepped from the launch upon the soil of his native land, he was met by Marquis Ito, and each greeted the other with a low bow. The baron then saluted the other officials in the same manner and, turning, bowed to a group of Japanese ladies representing the Woman's Patriotic Association. Dr. Jones and I stood some feet in the rear of the officials and were greeted by the baron after he had saluted his own countrymen. He extended his hand to us. The incident is mentioned as illustrating the difference in the manner of greeting. For who would be more apt to clasp hands, if that were customary, than these two distinguished statesmen whose personalities are indissolubly linked together in the conclusion of a world renowned treaty?

A brief account of the reception of Admiral Togo may be interesting to those who read this article. While at Tokyo I visited the city hall, at the invitation of the mayor and city council. While there Mayor Ozaki informed me that he, in company with the mayors of the other cities, would tender Admiral Togo a reception on the following Tuesday, and invited me to be present. Of course I accepted, because it afforded a rare opportunity to observe Japanese customs as well as to see a large concourse of people. As I witnessed the naval review in Yokohama the day before and the illumination at night, I did not reach Tokyo until the morning of the reception, and this led me into considerable embarrassment. On the train I met a Japanese gentleman who could speak English. He was kind enough to find me a 'rikisha man and a pusher and to instruct them to take me at once to Uyeno Park. He then left me and the 'rikisha men followed his instructions to the letter. They had not proceeded far when I discovered that Admiral Togo had arrived on the same train and that a long procession had formed to conduct him to the park. Before I knew it, I was whisked past an escort of distinguished citizens who, clad in Prince Alberts and silk hats, followed the carriages, and then I found my 'rikisha drawn into an open space between two carriages. Grabbing the 'rikisha man in front of me, I told him by word and gesture to get out of the line of the procession. He could not understand English, and evidently thinking that I wanted to get nearer the front, he ran past a few carriages and then dropped into another opening. Again I got him out of the line, employing more emphasis than before, only to be carried still nearer the front. After repeated changes of position, all the time employing such sign language as I could command and attempting to convey by different tones of voice suggestions that I could not translate into language, I at last reached the head of the procession. And the 'rikisha men, as if satisfied with the success of their efforts, paused to await the starting of the line. I tried to inform them that I was not a part of the procession; that I wanted to get on another street; that they should take me to the park by some other route and do so at once. They at last comprehended sufficiently to leave the carriages and take up a rapid gait, but get off of the street they would not. For three miles they drew me between two rows of expectant people, whose eyes peered down the street to catch a glimpse of the great admiral, who, as the commander of the Japanese navy, has won such signal victories over the Russians. I saw a million people; they represented every class, age and condition. I saw more people than I ever saw before in a single day. Old men and old women, feeble, but strengthened by their enthusiasm; middle aged men and women whose sons had shared in the dangers and in the triumphs of the navy; students from the boys' schools and students from the girls' schools with flags and banners, little children dressed in all the colors of the rainbow – all were there. And I could imagine that each one of them old enough to think, was wondering why a foreigner was intruding upon a street which the police had cleared for a triumphal procession. If some one had angrily caught my 'rikisha men and thrust them through the crowd to a side street I should not have complained – I would even have felt relieved, but no one molested them or me and I reached the park some minutes ahead of the admiral. How glad I was to alight, and how willingly I rewarded the smiles of the 'rikisha men with a bonus – for had they not done their duty as they understood it? And had they not also given me, in spite of my protests, such a view of the people of Tokyo as I could have obtained in no other way?

At the park I luckily fell in with some of the councilmen whom I had met before and they took me in hand. I saw the procession arrive, heard the banzais (the Japanese cheers) as they rolled along the street, keeping pace with Togo's carriage, and I witnessed the earnest, yet always orderly, rejoicing of the crowd that had congregated at the end of the route. When the procession passed by us into the park the members of the city council fell in behind the carriages, and I with them. When we reached the stand, a seat was tendered me on the front row from which the extraordinary ceremonies attending the reception could be witnessed. Mayor Ozaki, the presiding officer, escorted Admiral Togo to a raised platform, and there the two took seats on little camp stools some ten feet apart, facing each other, with their sides to the audience and to those on the stand. After a moment's delay, a priest, clad in his official robes, approached with cake and a teacup on a tray and, kneeling, placed them before the admiral. Tea was then brought in a long handled pot and poured into the cup. After the distinguished guest had partaken of these refreshments, the mayor arose and read an address of welcome. He has the reputation of being one of the best orators in the empire, and his part was doubly interesting to me. As he confined himself to his manuscript, I could not judge of his delivery, but his voice was pleasing and his manner natural. The address recited the exploits of Admiral Togo and gave expression to the gratitude of the people. At its conclusion the hero-admiral arose and modestly acknowledged the compliment paid to him and to his officers. Admiral Togo is short, even for the Japanese, and has a scanty beard. Neither in stature nor in countenance does he give evidence of the stern courage and indomitable will which have raised him to the pinnacle of fame.

When he sat down the mayor proposed three times three banzais, and they were given with a will by the enormous crowd that stood in the open place before the stand. While writing this article, I am in receipt of information that Mayor Ozaki has secured for me one of the little camp stools above referred to and has had made for me a duplicate of the other. They will not only be interesting souvenirs of an historic occasion, and prized as such, but they will be interesting also because they contrast so sharply with the large and richly upholstered chairs used in America on similar occasions.

From this public meeting the admiral and his officers were conducted to a neighboring hall where an elaborate luncheon was served. With the councilmen I went to this hall and was presented to the admiral and his associates, one of whom had been a student at Annapolis.

By the courtesy of Hon. Lloyd Griscom, the American minister, I had an audience with the emperor, these audiences being arranged through the minister representing the country from which the caller comes. Our minister, to whom I am indebted for much assistance and many kindnesses during my stay at the capital, accompanied me to the palace and instructed me, as they say in the fraternities, "in the secret work of the order." Except where the caller wears a uniform, he is expected to appear in evening dress, although the hour fixed is in the day time. At the outer door stand men in livery, one of whom conducts the callers through long halls, beautifully decorated on ceilings and walls, to a spacious reception room where a halt is made until the summons comes from the emperor's room. The emperor stands in the middle of the receiving room with an interpreter at his side. The caller on reaching the threshold bows; he then advances half way to the emperor, pauses and bows again; he then proceeds and bows a third time as he takes the extended hand of the sovereign.

The conversation is brief and formal, consisting of answers to the questions asked by his majesty. The emperor is fifty-three years old, about five feet six inches in height, well built and wears a beard, although, as is the case with most Japanese, the growth is not heavy. On retiring the caller repeats the three bows.

We were shown through the palace, and having seen the old palace at Kyoto, which was the capital until the date of the restoration (1868), I was struck with the difference. The former was severely plain; the latter represents the best that Japanese art can produce.

No discussion of Japanese customs would be complete without mention of the tea ceremonial. One meets tea on his arrival; it is his constant companion during his stay and it is mingled with the farewells that speed him on his departure. Whenever he enters a house he is offered tea and cake and they are never refused. This custom prevails in the larger stores and is scrupulously observed at public buildings and colleges. The tea is served in dainty cups and taken without sugar or cream. The tea drinking habit is universal here, the kettle of hot water sitting on the coals in the brazier most of the time. At each railroad station the boys sing out, "Cha! Cha!" (the Japanese word for tea) and for less than two cents in our money they will furnish the traveler with an earthen pot of hot tea, with pot and cup thrown in.

The use of tea at social gatherings dates back at least six hundred years, when a tea ceremonial was instituted by a Buddhist priest to soften the manners of the warriors. It partook of a religious character at first, but soon became a social form, and different schools of tea drinkers vied with each other in suggesting rules and methods of procedure. About three hundred years ago Hideyoshi, one of the greatest of the military rulers of Japan, gave what is described as the largest tea party on record; the invitations being in the form of an imperial edict. All lovers of tea were summoned to assemble at a given date in a pine grove near Kyoto, and they seem to have done so. The tea party lasted ten days and the emperor drank at every booth.

According to Chamberlain, tea drinking had reached the luxurious stage before the middle of the fourteenth century. The lords took part in the daily gatherings, reclining on tiger skins, the walls of the guest chamber being richly ornamented. One of the popular games of that day was the offering of a number of varieties of tea, the guests being required to guess where each variety was produced, the best guess winning a handsome prize. The tea ceremony answered at least one useful purpose – it furnished an innocent way of killing time, and the lords of that day seem to have had an abundance of time on their hands. The daughters of the upper classes were trained to perform the ceremony and displayed much skill therein. Even to this day it is regarded as one of the accomplishments, and young ladies perfect themselves in it, much as our daughters learn music and singing. At Kagoshima, Governor Chikami, one of the most scholarly men whom I have met here, had his daughter perform for my instruction a part of the ceremony, time not permitting more. With charming grace she prepared, poured and served this Japanese nectar, each motion being according to the rules of the most approved sect, for there are sects among tea drinkers.

The theatre is an ancient institution here, although until recently the actors were considered beneath even the mercantile class. Their social standing has been somewhat improved since the advent of western ideas. The theatre building is very plain as compared with ours or even with the better class of homes here. They are always on the ground floor and have a circular, revolving stage within the larger stage which makes it possible to change the scenes instantly.

The plays are divided into two kinds – historical ones reproducing old Japan, and modern plays. The performance often lasts through the entire day and evening, some of the audience bringing their tea kettles and food. Lunches, fruit, cigarettes and tea are also on sale in the theatre. The people sit on the floor as they do in their homes and at public meetings. One of the side aisles is raised to the level of the stage and the actors use it for entrance and exit.

In this connection a word should be said in regard to the Geisha girls who have furnished such ample material for the artist and the decorator. They are selected for their beauty and trained in what is called a dance, although it differs so much from the American dance as scarcely to be describable by that term. It is rather a series of graceful poses in which gay costumes, dainty fans, flags, scarfs and sometimes parasols, play a part. The faces of the dancers are expressionless and there is no exposure of the limbs. The Geisha girls are often called in to entertain guests at a private dinner, the performance being before, not after, the meal.

Our first introduction to this national amusement was at the Maple Club dinner given at Tokyo by a society composed of Japanese men who had studied in the United States. The name of the society is a Japanese phrase which means the "Friends of America." The Maple Club is the most famous restaurant in Japan, and the Geisha girls employed there stand at the head of their profession. During the dancing there is music on stringed instruments, which resembles the banjo in tone, and sometimes singing. At the Maple Club the Geisha girls displayed American and Japanese flags. We saw the dancing again at an elaborate dinner given by Mr. Fukuzawa, editor of the Jiji Shimpo. Here also the flags of both nations were used.

In what words can I adequately describe the hospitality of the Japanese? I have read, and even heard, that among the more ignorant classes there is a decided anti-foreign feeling, and it is not unnatural that those who refuse to reconcile themselves to Japan's new attitude should blame the foreigner for the change, but we did not encounter this sentiment anywhere. Never in our own country have we been the recipients of more constant kindness or more considerate attention. From Marquis Ito down through all the ranks of official life we found everyone friendly to America, and to us as representatives of America. At the dinner given by Minister Griscom there were present, besides Marquis Ito, the leader of the liberal party, Count Okuma, the leader of the progressive party (the opposition party), and a number of other prominent Japanese politicians.

At the dinner given by Consul General Miller at Yokohama, Governor Sufu and Mayor Ichihara were present. The state and city officials wherever we have been have done everything possible to make our stay pleasant. The college and school authorities have opened their institutions to us and many without official position have in unmistakable ways shown themselves friendly. We will carry away with us a number of handsome presents bestowed by municipalities, colleges, societies and individuals.

We were entertained by Count Okuma soon after our arrival and met there, among others, Mr. Kato of the state department, and President Hatoyama of the Waseda University, and their wives. The count's house is half European and half Japanese, and his garden is celebrated for its beauty. At Viscount Kana's we saw a delightful bit of home life. He is one of the few daimios, or feudal lords, who has become conspicuous in the politics of Japan, and we soon discovered the secret of his success. He has devoted himself to the interests of agriculture and spent his time in an earnest and intelligent effort to improve the condition of the rural population. He is known as "The Farmer's Friend." His house is at the top of a beautifully terraced hill, which was once a part of his feudal estate. He and his wife and six children met us at the bottom of the hill on our arrival and escorted us to the bottom on our departure. The children assisted in serving the dinner and afterward sang for us the American national air as well as their own national hymn. The hospitality was so genuine and so heartily entered into by all the family that we could hardly realize that we were in a foreign land and entertained by hosts to whom we had to speak through an interpreter.

In the country, fifteen miles from Kagoshima, I was a guest at the home of Mr. Yamashita, the father of the young man, who, when a student in America, made his home with us for more than five years. Mr. Yamashita was of the samurai class and since the abolition of feudalism has been engaged in farming. He had invited his relatives and also the postmaster and the principal of the district school to the noon meal. He could not have been more thoughtful of my comfort or more kindly in his manner. The little country school which stood near by turned out to bid us welcome. The children were massed at a bridge over which large flags of the two nations floated from bamboo poles. Each child also held a flag, the Japanese and American flags alternating. As young Yamashita and I rode between the lines they waved their flags and shouted "Banzai." And so it was at other schools. Older people may be diplomatic and feign good will, but children speak from their hearts. There is no mistaking their meaning, and in my memory the echo of the voices of the children, mingling with the assurances of the men and women, convinces me that Japan entertains nothing but good will toward our nation. Steam has narrowed the Pacific and made us neighbors; let Justice keep us friends.

CHAPTER IV.

JAPAN – HER HISTORY AND PROGRESS

As for the islands themselves, they are largely of volcanic origin, and a number of smoking peaks still give evidence of the mighty convulsions which piled up these masses of masonry. Asosan mountain, on the island of Kyushu, has the largest crater in the world.

Japan is the home of the earthquake. The Japanese Year Book of 1905 is authority for the statement that Japan was visited by 17,750 earthquakes during the thirteen years ending 1887 – an average of more than thirteen hundred a year, or three and a half each day. It is needless to say that a large majority of these were so trivial as to be unnoticed, except by those in charge of the delicate instrument which registers them.

If the average is as great at this time, there have been more than seventy-five since we landed, but we have not been aware of them. The severe shocks have come at periods averaging two and a half years, and the really disastrous ones have been something like fifty years apart. The country about Tokyo is most subject to earthquakes, the last severe one being in 1894. According to an ancient legend, Japan rests upon the back of a large fish and the earthquakes are caused by the moving of the fish. There is a Seismological society in Japan which has published a sixteen-volume work giving all that is scientifically known of the cause and recurrence of these disturbances.

Of the origin of the Japanese themselves nothing certain is known. The best authorities say that they came from the continent in an early Mongol invasion, while others believe that they came from the islands which stretch to the south. One writer announces the theory that they are the lost Israelites. It is quite certain that when the first Japanese landed on the islands they found an earlier race in possession. Some seventeen thousand of these, called Ainus, now occupy the northern extremity of the empire – an indication that the migration was from the southwest. The Ainus have remained distinct; where they have intermarried with the Japanese, the half breeds have died out in the second or third generation. They are a hairy race and in physical characteristics quite different from the Japanese. Their religion is a sort of nature worship, and it is their custom to say a simple grace before eating.

The remoteness of the settlement of Japan is shown by the fact that the reigning family, which claims descent from the gods, has held undisputed sway for twenty-five hundred years, although the record of the first thousand years is so dependent upon verbal tradition that the official history cannot be verified. As concubinage has been practiced from time immemorial, the heir, the oldest son, has not always been born of the empress.

Soon after the beginning of the Christian era the influence of China and Korea began to be felt in Japan, the written characters of the language being quite like the Chinese. Koreans and Japanese do not agree as to the influence which the former have had upon the latter. A very intelligent Korean informs me that his is the mother country and that Japan was settled from Korea, but the Japanese do not take kindly to this theory.

The feudal system, of which I shall speak more at length in another article, was early established in Japan, and society was divided into well defined classes. First came the members of the royal family and those admitted to the circle by favor; next, the Shogun (of whom more will be heard under the subject of government) and his relatives.

Next in rank were the daimios, or lords, of varying degrees of importance. Each daimio had a large number of retainers, who were called samurai, and below these were a still larger number of peasants who tilled the soil and did the manual labor. Some of the early pictures show the gorgeous dress of the daimios and portray the elaborate ceremony employed on state occasions.

The samurai were the warriors and had no other occupation than to defend their lords in the struggles between the clans. They corresponded to the knights in Europe during the days of chivalry, except that there were no romantic adventures over women – woman holding until recently a very subordinate place as compared with "her lord and master."

The samurai were given an annual allowance for their subsistence, and felt that toil was far beneath their dignity. They wore lacquered armor and costly helmets and carried two swords – a long one for the enemy and a short one for themselves.

It was with this short sword that the famous hara-kiri was committed. This ancient form of suicide by disembowelment was considered an highly honorable death and has been practiced until within a generation. General Saigo, one of the great men of Japan and one of its popular heroes, was the last man of prominence to terminate his life in this way. He was one of the leaders in the movement to restore to the emperor the authority which the shoguns had usurped and was for a while close to the throne. In 1874, however, he organized an army for the invasion of Korea, and coming into conflict with the forces of the empire, which were called out to prevent the invasion, he was defeated. In his humiliation he committed hara-kiri. A few years ago the title of Marquis was conferred upon him by a posthumous decree and is now enjoyed by his eldest son. One of his sons is the present mayor of Kyoto and another a colonel in the Imperial Guard. A bronze monument of heroic size, the gift of admiring friends, has recently been placed in the principal park in Tokyo.

Only a few years ago a young Japanese committed suicide in this way in order to emphasize his protest against the encroachments of the Russians, but a strong sentiment is developing against hara-kiri, and it will soon take its place among other obsolete customs.

The samurai represented the intellectual as well as the military strength of the nation. The daimios have furnished few of the men of prominence in modern Japan, nearly all of the leaders in government, education, literature and the professions having come from the samurai class. Now, however, that all social distinctions have been removed and the schools opened to the children of all, the old lines between the classes cannot so easily be traced.