Tokio, the political capital of Japan, is situated about twenty miles from Yokohama, and November 3d, being the Mikado's birthday, we went thither to see him review the local troops. A large field near the citadel was chosen for the display, and all Tokio turned out to witness it, forming about as conglomerate a mass of humanity as can be conceived of; brilliant in its array of brightly dressed and painted women, not ladies, for Tokio, like Paris, has its demi-monde. The number of babies present was amazing. There were young mothers with their infants strapped to their backs, and old women with their grandchildren fastened to theirs. Each young boy and girl of nine or ten years had a baby brother or sister secured to his or her back, and there were men with babies in their arms, though this is unusual in Japan. The infantry among the spectators outnumbered the infantry in the field. No matter where one goes, on the coast or inland, the extraordinary number of young children forms a marked feature.

There were about five thousand men in line, representing the several arms of the service, all dressed in European costume, and mostly officered by foreigners. The Mikado reviewed the troops on horseback in due form, and made a very good appearance accompanied by a well-appointed suite. The military display, being conducted upon imported ideas, was very like such a ceremony in America, save that the cavalry was small in numbers, riding upon the merest caricatures of horses,—ponies about the size of Newfoundland dogs; but what they lacked in size they made up in viciousness, so that it was about all the gallant cavalry could do to keep in their saddles. Indeed, many of them came to grief, spread out like galvanized bullfrogs upon the greensward, while their horses scampered off the field.

Tokio must contain over half a million of people. There is said to be over a million, but this may be doubted, though geographically it covers more ground than London. It is well laid out, with broad streets and good roads, and has a thorough police arrangement, having adopted numerous European and American ideas. The city is intersected by many canals and river courses, one bridge especially attracting our attention, the Bridge of Japan, which is to this country what the golden mile-stone was in the Forum at Rome: all distances throughout the empire are measured from it. The review having taken place in the early morning, we had a large portion of the day to visit places of interest in the town. Among these was the renowned temple of Shiba, which is over six centuries in age, composed of numerous kiosk-like buildings, looking more like immense lacquered jewel cases than anything else. There are many broad walks and courts, and stone pillars for lanterns, lofty trees and sacred tombs, for here lie buried most of the by-gone Tycoons. The temple portion of this vast space contains a great amount of gold, silver, bronze, and carved articles, the intrinsic value of which aggregates millions of dollars. Where could such an accumulation of wealth come from? History knows nothing of the importation of the precious metals, though it is true they are found in more or less abundance all over the country. Copper of the best and purest quality is a native product, the exportation of which is prohibited, and mining for the precious metals is carried on to but a very limited extent. The temple of Shiba is located near the centre of the population, occupying many acres of ground, walled in and shaded by a thick growth of trees, whose branches are black with thousands of undisturbed rooks and pigeons. The principal characteristic of the architecture is its boldness of relief, overhanging roofs, heavy brackets and carvings. The doors are of bronze, in bas-relief.

After visiting the temple of Shiba we took jinrikishas to that section of the suburbs known as Atago-Yama, a hill from which we were promised a fine view of the city. Here a steep flight of a hundred stone steps were ascended, which led to the summit, where were found some tea-booths, tended by fancifully dressed Japanese girls, and a small temple with sacred birds and horses. The temple required a strong effort of the imagination to invest it with the least interest, but the view from this point was fine. A couple of miles southeasterly was the broad, glistening Bay of Tokio, and round the other points of the compass was the imperial city itself, covering a plain of some eight miles square, divided by water-ways, bridges, and clumps of graceful trees, looming conspicuously above the low dwellings. The whole was as level as a checker-board, but yet there was relief to the picture in the fine open gardens, the high, peaked gable roofs of the temples, and the broad, white roadways.

At a subsequent visit to the city we attended a fair held in the grounds surrounding one of the many temples of Tokio, giving it a half-secular, half-religious character; but the whole exhibition, as to any coherent purpose, was quite incomprehensible to a foreigner. Enormous paper lanterns covered with blue and yellow dragons, and other impossible creatures, with small bodies and big heads, hung over the grounds in all directions. We were told that these would be lighted at night, and glaring fire would be seen coming out of the eyes of these dragons! The temple was gaudily decorated for the occasion with bold and vulgar caricatures, mingled most incongruously, the sacred with the profane. The priests were propitiating the idols inside the temple with drums, fifes, and horns, while the pleasure and trading booths were doing a thriving business outside. The confusion was very great all over the crowded inclosure. Old and young men were flying kites, some were shooting at a mark with bows and arrows, and some were beating tom-toms vigorously.

There was a show of wax figures in one of the booths, illustrating a terrible murder, and another of figures constructed of flowers, similar to immortelles. These last were certainly curious, and with swords and spears placed in their hands were supposed to represent warriors of the bravest type. Japanese art has much of the Chinese element in it, and is apt to culminate in dragons with half human countenances. There were a number of these graceful beings in the show. There were also inclosures where dwarf trees in pots were exhibited, some actually bearing natural sized fruit, like a baby with a man's hat on its head; beside these were singular specimens of blooming plants. In another inclosure were strange birds: green pigeons, Chinese pheasants, and parrots that looked artificially painted, so very odd was their plumage. There were cakes, candy, and fruit for sale, and men, women, and children devouring them.

In another department near at hand, there was exhibited china ware and Japanese toys and curiosities, and our party "invested." The guide could not make us understand what all this meant, but it was a "fair," that was plain enough, and he gave it the English name. The natives were very much in earnest, and worked hard to achieve a good time. At such an exhibition and miscellaneous out-door gathering nearly anywhere else there would have been sure to be many individuals present more or less under the influence of spirituous liquors, and a squad of policemen would naturally be in attendance. Here there was not the least evidence of inebriety or of quarrelsomeness, and certainly no police were present. There was a child-like satisfaction depicted on the faces of the crowd, showing that the people were very easily controlled and amused.

As we stood watching this gay and singular scene, a sad-faced Japanese woman, of a youthful figure, passed up to the temple, without heeding any one of the crowd about her, and pinned a small scrap of paper on one side of the altar, among many other similar tokens. Then we wondered what her prayer might be, as she retired quietly from the spot. Was it a petition for forgiveness of sins, or asking consolation for some great bereavement? Be it what it might, tendered sincerely, though in that blind and simple form, it doubtless won as certain response as the formal devotion of the most pronounced Christian.



CHAPTER III.

Foreign Influence in Japan.—Progress of the People.—Traveling Inland.—Fertility of the Soil.—Grand Temples and Shrines at Nikko.—The Left-Handed Artist.—Japanese Art—City of Kobe.—Kioto and its Temples.—Idol Worship.—Native Amusements.—Morals in Japan.—Lake Biwa.—Osaka on a Gala Day.—The Inland Sea.—Island of Pappenburg.—The Tarpeian Rock of Japan.—Nagasaki.—Girls Coaling a Ship.—National Products.

Realizing the obtuseness of the Japanese in all matters relating to religion, it seems strange that the national government permits our missionaries, and those from other Christian countries, such free scope, even employing them to educate classes in English, formed of the young men of the country. Some writers have lately spoken of an organized persecution of Christians as existing in Japan to-day. This we cannot absolutely controvert, but it was a subject of inquiry with us in different sections of the country, and an entirely different conclusion was the result of all we could learn. There can be no doubt that an inclination to conform to the American model in government and habits of life is rapidly growing in Japan. Every returning youth who has been educated in the United States, or even in Europe, where many are sent for the purpose, becomes on his return an active agent to this end.

It is especially observed that these youths come back wearing the American costume, and they continue to do so, rather priding themselves upon it as a mark of self-respect and distinction. A very earnest desire to acquire the English language is evinced by the middling classes especially in the sea-ports. Yet it is an open question with not a few intelligent people of Yokohama, where we heard the subject freely discussed, whether foreign commerce and foreign intercourse, all things considered, have been of any real advantage thus far to Japan. Trade has broken in upon the quiet habits of a people who were living in great simplicity, and has excited desires and artificial wants heretofore unknown to them. It has made the cost of living much greater, and a spirit of unrest universal, without elevating or improving the people to any appreciable extent. All this in a certain degree is undoubtedly true. At present the common classes are satisfied with the most moderate compensation for their services, and living, lodging, and transportation are cheap enough. As the Japanese become better acquainted with foreign taste and extravagance they will undoubtedly become contaminated and grow extortionate.

A pleasant excursion of a hundred miles inland, with Nikko as the objective point, enabled us to get some idea of posting with Japanese ponies, which are the most nervous and vicious little creatures of their species upon the face of the globe. One little rogue required six men to harness him, and then was dragged forward by his mate for a long distance. The driver, however, finally got the animal into a run, and kept him at that pace until the close of the stage, and another change took place. The fact is, a horse, on the dead run, has not much time to be vicious, but is obliged to go straight ahead by the simple force of circumstances.

Two thirds of the national road between Tokio and Nikko is lined on either side by large and ancient cedars, so thickly set that both body and roots, in many instances, have mingled and become one. These trees, completely overarching the narrow road, form a welcome shade, and are also very ornamental, with their straight shafts and thick foliage. The first half of the distance to Nikko is perfectly level, in fact one vast rice field. The journey was divided by stopping at Utsonomiga, where we passed the night in a native tea-house. Our sleeping arrangements were very simple. A Japanese bed consists of a thin cotton mattress spread upon the floor, and a similar article with big sleeves for the arms, which forms the covering. The pillow is a block of wood, for which the experienced traveler usually substitutes his valise. There is not much privacy afforded by the paper screens which divide the several apartments, and which prove to be no obstacle to conversation, if one desires a colloquy with his neighbor. Our night-lamp was a floating wick, in a cup of cocoanut oil, placed in a square paper lantern on legs. The morning toilet was made at a basin of water in the open court-yard. There are no chairs, tables, or wash-stands, unless you improvise them. However, we had a very good night's rest, and started off bright and early in the morning for Nikko.

One is impressed with the manifest fertility of the soil and the high cultivation it receives at the hands of the farmers; and this must be characteristic of a country which, as is shown by government statistics, with but eleven millions of acres under cultivation, feeds and clothes thirty-five millions of people; besides there are twenty-five million pounds of tea, three million pounds of raw silk, and thirty-five million pounds of rice exported annually. The population must constantly be on the increase. All along this finely shaded road neat farm-houses were to be seen, but no domestic cattle. Rows of tea-houses were frequently in sight, extending occasionally into a village or town of considerable dimensions, and filled with an active population. The tea-houses, as well as the shops and dwelling-houses, were all open, exposing each domestic arrangement to the public. The floors of these country houses are slightly raised from the ground, say one step, and covered with neat straw carpeting, upon which the family and visitors "squat" and take their refreshments.

The people in the places through which we passed were a little curious at our appearance, but offered no real annoyance. Many were engaged in mechanical pursuits, but were working after what appeared a most awkward fashion, their tools being simple and of little variety; while as to machinery wherewith to facilitate hand-labor, the Japanese seem to have no more idea of it than does a South Sea Islander. Many of the people make the raising of silk-worms and silk winding a source of livelihood. In the rear of some houses were seen little mulberry orchards, and spread out by the roadside, upon mats, were thousands of cocoons in the warm sunshine. Women were frequently seen outside the houses spinning the silk and winding the thread. Though silk raising is so large and important an industry in Japan, the winding of the material is still performed in the most laborious and primitive manner. Grain was being winnowed, as we drove along, by the simple process of passing it from hand to hand, this being done by the women, who also separated the rice from the stalks, drawing it by the handful through fixed upright wooden teeth, placed close together. Nothing could be more primitive.

We had read of Japanese intemperance in the use of saki, a spirit distilled from rice; but during the time we were in the country, one person only was seen under the influence of intoxication, and who was observed on the road during this trip inland. Intemperance cannot be common among the populace, or it would be more obvious. One may see more drunkenness among the common people of American cities in ten minutes than in ten weeks in Japan. Grapes are raised to some extent, but no wine is made from them, or at least not in any large quantity.

The city of Nikko is at present a place of not more than five hundred houses, all of which are located upon one broad thoroughfare, thatched with rice straw, and built of the frailest material. We were told that about a century ago a hundred thousand people dwelt here, but a fire swept their homes away in a single night, leaving only ashes to mark the spot. There is no foundation or cellar to a Japanese dwelling. The temples in this vicinity are isolated from the dwellings, a river running between, and are wonderful in architecture, size, and costliness. They are many hundred years of age, and contain, among other curious ornaments, statues of grotesque shapes in bronze, of priceless value, mammoth bronze figures of birds of the stork species, etc., life-like in character, and of exquisite finish. There are also many emblems and idols in gold, silver, and gilded wood. Some of the bronzes are known to be over a thousand years old, and we were assured that none of such valuable composition has been used for centuries. All ancient Japanese bronze has in it a large percentage of gold and silver.

Before the door, just over the entrance to these temples, there is fastened a gong, and above it hangs a metallic hammer, depending from which is a rope. When a priest, or native of the people, comes hither to pray, he pulls the rope vigorously, and thus produces a series of strokes upon the gong that might wake the dead. This is to call the attention of the Deity, and lead him to give ear to the petition about to be offered! Enormous bells of exquisite purity of sound, hung a few feet from the ground in the area before the temples, are rung at stated periods by the use of a battering ram of wood, suspended near them, causing the huge monsters to give out soft, muffled, though deep and far-reaching notes, that float off among the mountain passes, and come back again from Echo's lips, with startling distinctness. Several priests, clad in long, yellow robes, were seen actively employed, chanting, praying, and performing inexplicable ceremonies. One had a lot of little pine chips by his side, and was busy in alternately feeding a small fire upon a stone slab and beating a tom-tom. This, as our guide informed us, was to propitiate the god of fire, and to avert all possible catastrophes from that much dreaded source. When we passed out of the grounds, some hours later, this priest was still busy with his chips and the noisy tom-tom, though there was no audience present except our little party.

Before another shrine, not far away, was a dancing priestess, clothed in a fantastic manner, the only woman devotee whom we chanced to see in Japan. She held out a lacquered salver for money, presumedly for religious purposes, and on receiving the same she commenced a series of gyrations worthy of the whirling dervishes of Cairo. It was impossible not to recall De Foe's couplet as applied to this witch-like creature:—

"God never had a house of prayer But Satan had a chapel there."

If she had been young and pretty one might have endured the farce, but the woman was positively hideous, old, and wrinkled. Another priest, hard by, was seen to be writing prayers upon bits of paper, in anticipation of future demand, suited to all sorts of cases; and to be sold to visiting penitents, who would pin or paste them up in the temples as already described, and where the gods could peruse them at their leisure. The wood-carvings, representing vines, flowers, birds, and beasts, which formed a part of the elaborate ornamentation of the temples, could not be surpassed in Europe or America, and were as fresh and bright as though but just finished by the artist.

Our guide told us that the carvings of these temples were executed by a man whose facility was considered miraculous, and whose whole life was devoted to this object. He was known as the Left-Handed Artist, having but partial use of the right hand, and being also a dwarf. It seems, according to the legend, that, while this artist was working at the ornamentation of the temples at Nikko, he saw and fell in love with a very beautiful Japanese girl resident in the city; but she would have nothing to do with him on account of his deformity of person. In vain was his genius, in vain his tender pleadings; she was inflexible, so that at last, quite heartbroken, the poor sculptor went back to Tokio, his native place, where he carved an image of his beloved in wood, life-size, which, when finished, was so perfect and beautiful that the gods endowed it with life, and the sculptor lived with it as his wife in the enjoyment of mutual love all the rest of his life. A classic fable of similar import will occur to the reader. Is there anything new under the sun?

The temples, shrines, and tombs of Nikko, in such perfect preservation, are to the writer's mind the most remarkable in the world. Their complete isolation, far away from any populous neighborhood; the solemn silence which surrounds them at all times, shaded by a grove of lofty cedars surpassed only in size and height by the giants of the Yosemite, all tend to make them singularly impressive. The approach to the site is by a wide flight of many stone steps, black and moss-grown with the rains and dews of centuries, forming a grand example of ancient masonry, the large, uniform granite blocks so laid and bonded that, after resting there for ages, a knife-blade could not be introduced between the joints. On careful examination it appeared that no composition either of cement or mortar had ever been employed in this masonry, the builders confining themselves to proper foundation and perfect matching together of the stones. At Tokio, the Shiba temple, curious, strange, and interesting as it was, lost effect by the neighborhood of the busy throng always at hand. To enter the Shiba temple was like visiting a grand museum of specialties, while these lonely Nikko shrines at once command the visitor's half unwilling reverence.

Our tea-house at Nikko was a duplicate of that at Utsonomiga. In the garden was the usual ornamentation so much affected by the people here, consisting of rockeries, little mounds of bamboo or dwarf pines, together with small plots of flowering shrubs, and little ponds of gold and silver fish. These fishes attracted notice as being quite different from any with which we were acquainted. They were a small species, not more than three inches long, and generally smaller than that; but they were supplied with a double complement of tail, and had large protruding eyes like a King Charles spaniel, and pug noses like a fashionable bull pup. They were ludicrous little fellows, so curious withal, that at great trouble and care a few were brought home by one of our party; not all of those selected, however, survived the exigencies of the long journey.

On this posting trip, both going to and coming from Nikko, we observed upon the road, in the several villages and posting stations, many curious things. Women seemed to perform the most of the out-door work, ditching and laboring in the rice swamps, with infants lashed to their backs. When they were met taking articles to market, upon the little country ponies, they rode astride, man fashion. Hens were seen with hair in place of feathers, hens as small as domestic pigeons, hens with plumes on their heads like militia captains, and hens with bare crowns like shaven priests. There were also green pigeons and speckled crows, tame as domestic fowls, among which was seen that anomaly, a white crow. At the tea-house where we stopped for the night, our passports, specially granted, were taken by the local officials and returned to us in the morning. The passport was rather a curious document, and disclaimed all responsibility on the part of the Mikado and his government should the holder be murdered by the way, from whatever cause. In short, we were permitted to travel inland, but at our own peril. It is still looked upon by many as somewhat risky to travel away from the populous centres, but we met with no special trouble.

The natives upon the route were inclined to be a little curious as to the ladies' bonnets and dresses, nor were they quite satisfied without using some familiarity about the gentlemen's attire; but they seemed to be of a soft and pliant mould, easily managed by exercising a little finesse. It was curious to observe how entirely opposite to our own methods were many of theirs. At the post stations the horses were placed and tied in their stalls with their heads to the passage-way, and their tails where we place their heads. Thus they are fed and kept. In place of iron shoes the Japanese pony is shod with close-braided rice straw. Carpenters, in using the fore-plane, draw it towards them instead of pushing it from them. It is the same in using the saw, the teeth of which are set accordingly. So the tailor sews from him, not towards his body, and holds his thread with his toes. They have no chimneys to the houses, the smoke finding its way out at the doors and windows, though brasiers are used instead of fireplaces, and in hot weather are placed outside the dwelling for cooking purposes. The men shave their heads just where the Chinese do not, making a bald spot on the top; and so we might go on specifying peculiarities, showing that the Japanese are our antipodes not only geographically but also in manners and customs.

As regards Japanese art, of which every one has seen such laughable specimens, it must yet be admitted that there is a certain artistic element extant among the people; otherwise we should not have the thousand and one beautifully finished articles which are produced by them, exhibiting exquisite finish and perfection of detail. Of perspective they have no idea whatever; half-tones and the play of light and shade they do not understand; there is no distinction of distances. Their figures are good, delicately executed, and their choice of colors admirable. In profile work or bas-relief they get on very well, where there is no perspective required, but in grouping they pile houses on the sea and mountains on the housetops. At caricature they greatly excel, indeed they scarcely attempt to represent the human face and figure in any other light. In place of entertaining any idea of what is lovely in our species, they look only at the human face and form from the ludicrous side, and this they render by giving it ideal ugliness, or by exaggerating the grosser characteristics. The Japanese artist knowing nothing of anatomy as a science, in its connection with art, nor even attempting the simplest principle of foreshortening, we can only fairly judge as to his success in what he practices. It will be curious to watch the progress of the Japanese, and see their first attempts in perspective drawing. So intelligent and imitative a race will not fail to acquire this simple principle of art and nature; the only mystery seems to be how it has so long escaped them.

Architecture can hardly be said to exist in Japan, though we have used the term. The houses of the prince and the cobbler are the same, consisting of a one-story building composed of a few upright posts, perhaps of bamboo, and a heavy thatched roof. The outer walls are mere sliding doors or shutters, while the interior is divided by screens or sliding partitions. The man of means uses finer material and polished wood, with better painted screens: that is all. Prince and peasant use rice-paper in place of glass, and a portable brasier to warm the hands and feet and to cook with; there are no fireplaces in the country, except in European houses. The pagodas and temples at Nikko and elsewhere are of the typical Chinese stamp, and as far as architectural design is concerned are all alike, and all built of wood. When speaking of the fine and durable masonry, reference was had to the lofty inclosing walls, causeways, and steps which lead up to the broad ground and tombs at Nikko.

We took passage from Yokohama for Kobe in the English mail steamship Sumatra, of the P. and O. line, which, after two days' pleasant voyage, landed us at the northern entrance to the Inland Sea of Japan. Kobe is of some commercial importance, quite Europeanized, but of very little interest to the traveler, gaining its business as the sea-port for the imperial city of Osaka, with which it is connected by the river Yedo. After looking about us here for a day, visiting some lofty and pretty falls in the neighborhood, and some curious Buddhist shrines in a grove back of the town, the cars were taken for Kioto, sixty miles inland, where we arrived in the afternoon and found a good native public house, the Masuyama Hotel, situated on a hill-side completely overlooking the town. Here we had beds, wash-stands, chairs, and the ordinary comforts of civilization. Kioto has a population of over three hundred thousand, and, as we were told, once numbered two million of inhabitants, which one can easily credit, since it was in the past the political capital of the country and sole residence of the emperors; but now the Mikado lives permanently at Tokio.

Kioto is called the City of Temples, and we certainly visited so many that only a confused memory of them in the aggregate is retained. They were by no means equal in grandeur, ornamentation, architecture, or age to those of Nikko, Kamakura, or Tokio. More religious pretentiousness was obvious here,—more people were congregated before the images, engaged in acts of devotion. It might be added, if there was any chastening influence in the ceremonies, they were more needed at Kioto than at any other place, perhaps, in the whole country, judging from only too obvious circumstances. The Japanese character presents as much unlikeness to the Oriental as to the European type, and is comparable only to itself. In nothing is this more apparent than in the fact that a people who are so intelligent, who can reason calmly and cogently on nearly any other subject, should be so obtuse in religious matters. A Japanese believes the little caricature in ivory or wood, which has perhaps been manufactured under his own eye, or even by his own hands, is sacred, and will address his prayers to it with a solemn conviction of its powers to respond. Than this idolatry cannot further go. His most revered gods are effigies of renowned warriors and successful generals. African fetich is no blinder than such baseless adoration performed by an intelligent people. Some of the indigenous animals, such as foxes, badgers, and snakes, are protected with superstitious reverence, if not absolutely worshiped. At Tokio we saw ponies that were held sacred, dedicated in some way to the use of the church, kept in idleness, and reverenced by both priests and people, being fed on the fat of the land, like sacred bulls at Benares.

At the Kioto temples it was observable that fully a score of priests were kept busy writing brief prayers upon slips of paper at the solicitation of devotees, doubtless suited to their supposed necessities. These scraps the recipients pressed to their lips, foreheads, and breasts, then pinned or pasted them up in the temples among thousands of similar offerings. One of these temples, we were told by our guide, contained over thirty thousand idols, and as far as a casual glance could take in the confused mass of them ranged close to each other, the aggregate number may be correct. These idols were three feet high, representing some approach to the human figure, each possessing many arms and hands. They were carved from solid blocks of wood, and very heavily gilded, presenting a most gaudy and toy-like appearance. While we stood within this temple some women came in, prostrated themselves before the glittering toys for a few moments, and then passed out, making room for others; but we saw no men at devotion in this temple of many thousand idols.

The streets of Kioto were thronged with mountebanks, peep-shows, performing acrobats, and conjurers. Sleek and pampered priests in yellow robes were met at every turn, a class who exercise a certain influence over the people through their superstition, but who command no personal respect. We were told that they are a profligate set, like too many of their class elsewhere, and enjoyed a certain immunity from the laws. Before the temples was seen in one or two instances a theatrical performance in progress, which seemed rather incongruous, but upon inquiry this was found to be designed to appease the special gods of the temple,—to entertain and amuse them! so that they would grant favors to the people. The exhibition consisted of dancing and posturing by professionals of both sexes, accompanied by the noise of tom-toms, whistles, gongs, bells, and fifes. There was no attempt at time or harmony, as far as could be discovered, the end and aim being apparently to make all the noise possible.

Amusements are not lacking at Kioto, as there are numerous theatres where farce, tragedy, and comedy are duly represented after the crude fashion of the country. These theatres open at early morning and the play lasts until midnight, with the briefest intermissions. The spectators bring their food with them; so that eating, drinking, and smoking are going on all the while during the performance. At some of these theatres women only perform, at others only men, but in no instance do the two sexes mingle in these public exhibitions. The mechanical arrangements are of the most primitive character, such as would not satisfy children in America, but the pantomime is very good. As to speaking characters, they are very seldom attempted. The price of admission is about five cents of our currency, and from six hundred to a thousand persons often gather at these theatres. Music (it is called by that name) and posturing fill up the intervals. To an American observer the whole exhibition seems cruder than a Comanche wardance.

Singing and posturing girls are here let out in groups, as in other Japanese cities, to entertain foreigners or natives at their meals; but the performances and the purpose are highly objectionable, morality in this latitude being much like that of the average European capitals, that is, at a very low ebb, as viewed from our stand-point. There are also public exhibitions of acrobats in wrestling, fencing, and the like, while others are devoted entirely to sleight-of-hand tricks, very good of their kind.

The porcelain manufactories of Kioto were found interesting,—everything being done, however, by the patient and slow process of hand labor, with the crudest of tools. The same remark applies to the silk manufactories, where the weaving is performed in a laborious manner, each small hand-loom requiring two persons to operate it. The goods thus produced are really fine, but could not be sold in the present markets of the world except that Japanese labor is held at starvation prices. The average pay of the weavers is less than thirty cents per day, and the boy helpers, who work the shuttles, receive but twelve. The various manufactories of paper here and elsewhere in the country form one of its most extended industries, the basis of the material being the bark of certain trees; indeed, one is on this account designated as the paper-tree, and, being a species of the mulberry, it serves a double purpose,—its leaves feeding the little insect which is so important a factor in Japanese products. It must not be supposed that the large amount of paper which is produced indicates its consumption for printing purposes: the demand for that species of the article is very limited, but the general uses to which the manufactured paper are put in Japan is infinite. A very superior grade of oil paper is manufactured which is suitable even for clothing, and is so used. It has been mentioned how universally a certain grade is used in place of glass; paper is also employed for partitions of rooms in place of lath and plaster; for fans, an immense amount is required; also, for cases and boxes, for twine, letter-bags, purses, umbrellas, and many other articles.

The largest lake in Japan is that of Biwa, a very fine sheet of water, nearly fifty miles long, but rather narrow, probably not exceeding an average width of more than ten miles. It is situated about eight miles from Kioto, and thither we went in jinrikishas. It was anciently the summer resort of the Mikados, and is a very beautiful lake, abounding in fish, a most important matter to the neighborhood, as rice and fish are the chief diet in Japan. There are many pleasure-houses, so-called, along its banks, where the visitor is entertained with fish fresh from the water, cooked in a great variety of ways. On the north and west side the lake is hemmed in, like a Scotch loch, by lofty hills, but on the other sides by pleasant, highly cultivated lands, slightly undulating, and ornamented with pretty little hamlets, and tea-houses for visitors who sail upon the lake for pleasure. Our jinrikisha men took us there in less than an hour and a half, but as the road rises towards Kioto we were fully two hours in returning. On this occasion women harnessed tandem, with men, to some jinrikishas were met, and they trotted off quite as easily at a pony gait as did the men, but it is gratifying to say that it was the only time we saw women so employed.

We returned to Kobe by way of Osaka, a city nearly as large as Kioto, and much more of a business and manufacturing centre. The national mint is located here, with some other large government works. The ancient fort overlooking the town is of great interest, and is still fortified, affording barracks for a couple of regiments of the regular army. It is a remarkably substantial structure; many of the stones of which it is composed are so large that it is a wonder how they could ever have been transported intact from the quarry. Osaka has rivers and canals running through it much like Amsterdam, though not so numerous, and has been appropriately called the Venice of Japan. It is not Europeanized like Kobe or Yokohama; it is purely Japanese in all respects, and possesses a considerable commerce. The day of our arrival was a festal one, being consecrated to the god of the waters; wherefore large boats gayly decked with flags and party-colored streamers, containing crowds of gayly dressed men in harlequin style, were rowing in long processions through the water-ways of the city and under the many high-arched bridges. On the decks of the boats the people were dancing and singing (howling), to the notes of an indescribable instrument, which could give a Scotch bag-pipe liberal odds and then surpass it in its most hideous discordance. Music is not a strong point with the Chinese or Japanese; if they have any actual melody in their compositions, no foreign ear can detect it. At one of the public performances at Kobe it seemed that the notes were produced by a file and rusty saw.

We embarked at Kobe November 26th, on the Japanese steamship Nugata Maru, officered by Europeans, but manned by natives, bound for Nagasaki, near the southernmost point of Japan, and to reach which we sailed the whole length of the famous and beautiful Inland Sea. It was a most enchanting voyage of two days and two nights, among innumerable islands and grotesquely formed hills, which were covered with foliage and verdure to the very water's edge. Many of these islands were inhabited, and cultivated on their abrupt sides in terraces, like vineyards on the Rhine, displaying great care and taste. The aspect of the conical islands, bluffs, headlands, and inlets recalled the St. Lawrence River in Canada, presenting narrow and winding passages, losing themselves in creeks and bays after a most curious fashion, while little brown hamlets here and there fringed the coast line. At night, the scene changing constantly was enhanced in beauty by the clearness of the atmosphere and the brightness of the moon. We slept scarcely at all on board the Nugata Maru; it seemed almost sacrilege to miss an hour of the beautiful flying panorama which was being so silently spread before our vision.

The sea was one sheet of rippling silver; the stars, partially eclipsed by the moon, "silver empress of the night," were nevertheless bright and sparkling with diamond lustre. All was still, for though we eagerly watched, we rarely spoke; silence became eloquent on such an occasion. Now and then the deep, hoarse voice of the captain from the forecastle of the steamer floated aft: "Port your helm," "Starbord," "Steady." In this intricate navigation the captain leaves the bridge to the officer of the watch, and temporarily takes the post of the forward lookout. Now we run close in under some towering headland, now sheer off from a green isle so near that none but an experienced pilot would dare to hug the shore so closely. At many points the sea seemed to be completely land-locked, like the Lakes of Killarney, framed in by lofty hills. Too much had not been promised us in this special voyage through the Inland Sea. For once, fruition was confirmation. We could have sailed on and on, over those still, deep waters and among those fairy-like isles, for weeks unwearied, and when at last we anchored in the snug harbor of Nagasaki the voyage had been only too brief.

A sad interest attaches to the small but lofty island of Pappenburg, which stands like a sentinel guarding the entrance to the harbor of Nagasaki. It is the Tarpeian Rock of the far East. During the persecution of the Christians in the seventeenth century, the steep cliff, which forms the seaward side of the island, was an execution point, and from here men and women who declined to abjure their faith were cast headlong on to the sea-washed rocks far below. The present verdure and beauty which so characterize the spot are in strong contrast with the sad history of the place; nor could we gaze upon its precipitous side, as we steamed slowly by, without a shudder at the tragedies once enacted there.

Nagasaki was found to be a thrifty commercial city of about a hundred thousand inhabitants, with a fine harbor, the entrance being as narrow as that of Havana; but once inside, the combined fleets of the world might find good anchorage under the shallow of the lofty hills which surround its deep, clear waters. The extreme length of the harbor must be about four miles, by two in width. Tall, dark pines and a verdant undergrowth mark the deep ravines and sloping hill-sides, upon which European dwellings may be seen overlooking the bay, interspersed with a few Buddhist temples. During a delightful afternoon stroll and climb among these hills, we came upon many wild flowers, shaded by oaks and camphor-trees of great size and beautiful foliage, with occasional specimens of the Japan wax-tree. Still farther up, the hills were covered with dark, moss-crowned grave-stones, bearing curious characters and marking the sleeping-place of by-gone generations, the unbroken quiet of this city of the dead, contrasting with the hum of feverish life that came up from the busy town.

Nagasaki is quaint even for a Japanese city, its clean, broad streets ornamented by growing palms, pomegranates, and bamboo-trees, while each shop is a little museum in itself. Like Osaka, it is thoroughly Japanese in its appearance, as well as in the manners and customs of its thrifty inhabitants. Here, and throughout the entire country, one feels impressed with the evident peace, plenty, and content. As to the products of this locality, they are mostly figured porcelain, embroidered silks, japaned goods, ebony and shell finely carved and manufactured into ornaments. Every little low house has a shop in front, and is, as usual, quite open to the street; but small as these houses are, room is nearly always found in the rear or side for a little flower-garden, fifteen or twenty feet square, where dwarf trees flourish amid little hillocks of turf, and ferns, and small tubs of gold fish. Azaleas, laurels, and tiny clumps of bamboos are the most common plants to be seen.

This indicates a pure and simple taste in the people, yet there is a system of social debasement throughout Japan, which was here so obvious that it cannot be passed without notice. It is no worse, perhaps, than in Vienna or Paris, where the law affords it certain sanction; but when realized in connection with the quiet, peaceful aspect of Japanese domestic life, the contrast renders the system more repulsive than it appears elsewhere. The young women in these public establishments are really slaves, as much as Circassian girls sold into Turkish harems, or at Moorish Tangier. In Japan they are also sold, while yet children, by their parents, for this purpose, and for a period of ten years. At the close of their term such women are not considered disgraced, and are eligible for marriage, frequently being sought by desirable husbands, and rearing respectable families. The Japanese are not immaculate, and primitive innocence does not exist among them. Virtue in women before marriage is held rather lightly, but afterwards they must be spotless, otherwise the penalty is death.

As regards the flora of Japan we learned some interesting facts. Though the country is densely populated for its number of square miles, the forest area is four times more extensive than that portion brought under cultivation. Botanists declare its vegetation to be the richest, as well as the most varied, of any portion of the globe. The cultivation of the soil is skillfully and thoroughly systematized, the greatest possible results being obtained from a given area. This is partly due to a system of thorough enrichment, applied in the form of liquid manure, and entirely by hand. Its flora is spontaneous and magnificent, repaying the least attention by a development and profuseness of yield that is surprising. Next in importance to the product of rice, which is the staple food of the people, comes that of the mulberry and tea-plants, one species of the former not only feeding the silk-worm, but also, as has been mentioned, affording the fibre of which paper is made, as well as cordage and dress material. In usefulness the bamboo is most remarkable, growing to a height of fifty or sixty feet, and entering into the construction of house-frames, screens, mats, pipes, and sails. The umbrella-pine grows to a height of a hundred feet, with dense foliage, and the cedars reach two hundred feet, with a girth of twenty, which is, however, far exceeded by the noble camphor-trees. The camphor of commerce is extracted from the stem and roots, cut into small pieces, by a simple process of decoction.

As at San Francisco, there is an abundance of birds hovering constantly about the harbor of Nagasaki, not sea-gulls, but a brown fishing-hawk, which here seems to take the place of the gull, swooping down upon its finny prey after the same fashion, and uttering a wild, shrill cry when doing so. Another peculiarity about this feathery fisherman is that he affects the rigging of ships lying at anchor, and roosts in the shrouds or on the spars, which a sea-gull or other ocean bird is rarely known to do. This harbor, in its sheltered character, resembles a Swiss or Scotch lake, many of its peculiarities being identical with them. The hills spring from the very water's edge, and the pine is the prevailing tree; the principal difference being an inclination here to more tropical verdure than in the localities referred to. The bay is nearly land-locked, and while a pretty heavy gale may be blowing just outside, the surface of the harbor would be scarcely ruffled.

The ship took in coal here after a style quite Japanese. Large flat boats came alongside, each laden with many tons of coal from a native mine near at hand; and a broad port-hole being opened near the ship's coal bunks, a line of Japanese girls and boys, each not more than twelve or thirteen years of age, was formed upon a gangway reaching from the bunks down the ship's side to the coal barge. Along this line of girls and boys were rapidly passed baskets of coal, which might weigh from sixty to eighty pounds each, so fast as to form one continuous stream of the article discharging on board. The empty baskets were passed back into the coaling barge by a line of younger girls at another port-hole, being refilled by a third gang in the boat. The line of full coal baskets would not be broken once in an hour, until the barge was emptied and another hauled alongside to be similarly discharged. It was remarkable how quickly the ship took on board her necessary supply of fuel in this manner, and how steadily those young begrimed children worked all day. The local agent told us they were paid for the ten or twelve hours' work fifteen cents each. Their boiled rice and dried fish would cost them four or five cents for the day, and so they would be able to save ten cents. Clothing does not enter into cost when it is not worn, and these little imps were as nearly naked as was possible. They stopped work for about twenty-five minutes at meridian, and were served each with a bowl of rice and fish, which they dispatched with chopsticks, then drank a lacquered bowl of hot tea.

An extremely interesting month had been passed in the country which we were now about to leave behind us, and should have been glad to tarry longer in, but our arrangements, to a certain extent, were imperative, and so we prepared to sail southward, through the long reach of the China Sea. Some reflections, the result of our late experience, were forced upon us at this juncture, relative to the people whose brief acquaintance we had made.

The natural intelligence of the Japanese has no superior among any race, however much it may be perverted, or have lain dormant for want of stimulus. There is evidence sufficient of this in the fact that the young men of Japan, who are sent to this country for educational purposes, so frequently win academic prizes and honors over our native scholars. This, too, notwithstanding the disadvantages under which a foreigner must be placed. Instances of the brightness of their natural intelligence have been so numerous in our colleges and educational institutions as to cause public remark. It is therefore safe to say that the mental capacity of the Japanese youth is certainly equal to those of our own in the same class of society. No sooner have they been fairly introduced to American and European civilization than they have taken a stride, of four or five centuries at a single leap, from feudalism in its most ultra form to constitutional government. When an American squadron opened the port of Yokohama, in 1853, to the commerce of the world, it also opened that hermetically sealed land to the introduction of progressive ideas; and though, unfortunately, the elements of civilization which are most readily assimilated are not always the most beneficial, still, the result, taken as a whole, has been worthy of the admiration of the world at large.

When we speak of the progress of the Japanese as a nation, we must not forget that the national records of the country date from nearly seven hundred years before the time of Christ on earth, and that a regular succession of Mikados, in lineal descent from the founders of their dynasty and race, has since that remote date been carefully preserved. Taking the Western Powers as a model, the Japanese have not failed to emulate them in nearly all the prominent features of civilization, promptly furnishing themselves with rifled cannon and torpedo boats, with newspapers and a national debt. As we have remarked, the army and civil officers have long since adopted the American costume. The railroad and the telegraph, too much of an innovation for the more pretentious Chinese, are quite domesticated in Japan. But still it is really to be hoped that the progressive spirit, so apparent in the policy of the Mikado and his advisers, may not quite obliterate all traces of the antique and picturesque customs of a country so peculiar and original.



CHAPTER IV.

Sail for Hong Kong.—Ocean Storms.—Sunset at Sea.—A Water-Spout.—Arrival in China.—Typhoon Bay.—Manners and Customs.—In and about Hong Kong.—Public Buildings.—Voyage up the Pearl River.—City of Canton.—Strangest of Strange Cities.—Opium Dens.—Temple of Honan.—The Worship of Swine.—Praying with a Fan.—Local Peculiarities.—Half Round the World.—Singapore.—A Tiger Hunt.—Burial at Sea.—Penang.—The Wonderful Palm.

We sailed from Nagasaki early on the morning of November 29th, in the same steamship, the Nugata Maru, which had brought us from Kobe, being now bound for Hong Kong, through the Yellow and China Seas, a distance of eleven hundred miles. These are proverbially rough waters, and they fully sustained their reputation for the first two days of the voyage. The marvel seemed rather to be that more ships were not lost here, than that so many were. It is really little better than a vast graveyard for commerce. Our staunch iron hull was tossed about like a feather in the wind, causing us to realize that there is something awfully grand in these ocean storms, uncomfortable as they are.

Our crew was composed of Japanese, and excellent sailors they are, quiet, obedient, and untiring. Sea life is very similar in nearly all latitudes, and affords but few incidents worthy of recording. An old sea-captain told the author, some years since, that the finest sunsets he had ever seen were in these waters, off the coast of Cochin China, and that it was a peculiarity of the region; or, to use his own words, "First, we would have a typhoon that shivered our sails into threads, and then a sunset that looked like a scene in a theatre." Allowance was made in this instance for a fancied charm brought about by the great contrast of a raging storm followed by a serene nightfall. It seemed as though we had witnessed as fine exhibitions of Nature in this line, both in Europe and America, as could be enjoyed, but an agreeable surprise was in store for us.

We had crossed the southern portion of the Yellow Sea, and having run down the Corean Straits, with the Loo-Choo Islands under our lee, were sailing southward upon the China Sea. It was the 2d of December, and we too were now off the coast of Cochin China. Never before had any of our little party witnessed such a gorgeous array of cloud and color effect; nor was the display fleeting. The peculiar aspect lasted for half an hour or more, full of change to be sure, like opal hues, hovering and evanescent, but not obliterated. The transparent clouds that hung above the western horizon, as dainty in form and texture as a butterfly's wings, were tinted with turquoise blue. Immediately over the section where the sun had so lately disappeared, the gradations of color were multiform and brilliant, fading into each other's embrace. Close to the water line, where sky and ocean mingled, there was a mound of quivering flame that seemed like burning lava pouring from some volcanic source. This lavish display of iris hues was softly reflected by the vapory tissue of clouds that hung over the opposite expanse; the shades changing to ruby and sapphire tints alternately, until the east almost rivaled the west in the gorgeousness of its robes. In the mean time the sea, now wonderfully calm, expanding into infinite space, reproduced upon its shimmering surface, as in a mirror, this magic array of color permeated by the amber twilight. Gradually the curtain of night dropped over the scene, but there still lingered a long crimson line on the distant horizon where the sun had sunk into the sea. The most careless eye on board the ship watched the constantly changing effects with bated breath. Nature revels in beauty, and does her work with a lavish hand in the far East. It has been our lot to see the sun set in many lands and on many seas, but never before in such gorgeous splendor.

Just at night, December 4th, we arrived below Hong Kong, dropping anchor in Typhoon Bay, where, among the dark shadows of the cliff-like shore, we watched the stars overhead and the long bright wake cast by the light-house, counted the small dancing lights in the native settlements on the shore, and wondered what Hong Kong was like.

With the early morning light we steamed up to the magnificent harbor, surrounded by a range of lofty hills, rendering it a shelter and affording depth of water sufficient for any known tonnage. Its extensive area was well covered with ships of war and merchantmen, bearing the flags of all nations, among which the Stars and Stripes gladdened our eyes. Hong Kong signifies "good harbor" in Chinese, and the name is well applied. This is the most easterly possession of Great Britain, which she has taken care to render very strong in a military point of view, and where a large number of troops are constantly kept. The scarlet uniforms of the garrison form a striking feature of the busy streets, at all hours of the day. The houses in the European section of the city are large and handsome structures, mostly of stone, rising tier upon tier from the main street to a height of some hundreds of feet on the face of the hill immediately back of the town. On and about the lofty Victoria Peak are many charming bungalows, with attractive surroundings, and a noble prospect of the harbor and country. The streets appropriated to the occupancy of the Europeans are spacious and clean, but the Chinese portion of Hong Kong is quite characteristic of the race,—very crowded and very dirty, seeming to invite all sorts of epidemic diseases; and consequently the mortality is very great and sweeping at times, promoted by ignorance and excess among strangers and seamen.

One soon learns to detect an opium-eating people, and here we found examples all about us in every relation of life. It is a vice nearly always pursued in secret, but its traces upon the heavy, bleared eye and sallow features are plain and disfiguring enough. The disgraceful trade in the fatal drug, forced upon China by the English at the point of the bayonet, flourishes and increases, forming the heaviest item of import. It seems almost incredible that a people can long exist and consume such large quantities of this active poison. Other forms of stimulants are seldom resorted to by the natives, and an intoxicated person is scarcely, if ever, met with among the Chinese population. As to Europeans, it is the same here as it is in India, the habit of drinking freely of spirituous liquors is universal, and one half the invalidism which is attributed to climate should be ascribed to indulgence in hard drinking.

The streets of Hong Kong afford strange local pictures. The shoemaker industriously plies his trade in the open thoroughfare; cooking goes on in the gutters beside the sidewalks filling the atmosphere with greasy odors; the itinerant peddler, with a wooden box hung from his neck, disposes of food made from mysterious sources; the street barber is seen actively employed out of doors; the milkman drives his goats to the customer's door and there milks the required quantity; the Chinese themselves ignore the article altogether. The universal fan is carried by men, not by women, and when the owner is not using it, he thrusts it in the back of his neck with the handle protruding. Sedan chairs are rushing hither and thither, borne upon men's shoulders, transporting both natives and Europeans on business errands. Here, as in southern Italy, one observes a propensity to eat, sleep, live, and die in the streets, exhibited by the mass of the population.

Imagine a short, slouchy figure, with sloping eyes, a yellow complexion, features characterized by a sort of low cunning, a shaved head with a pigtail, clad in a loose cloth blouse, half shirt and half jacket, continuations not exactly pants nor yet a petticoat, and shoes thick-soled and shearing upwards like a Madras surf-boat, and you have John Chinaman as he appears at home. The portrait is universal. One Chinaman is as like another as two peas,—a uniformity often leading to ludicrous mistakes. John eats principally rice. It is in fact the basis of all his dishes, which are varied by the addition of dried fish and vegetables, adding occasionally such portions of animals as are usually thrown away by civilized people. Rats, cats, and dogs are not declined by his omnivorous appetite, and he is charged with craving nearly all sorts of vermin, such as snakes, slugs, scorpion's eggs, and caterpillars, which he complacently adds to his stews. Without the physical strength or size of Europeans, he makes up in industry what he lacks in muscle; and as his food costs about one fifth the sum which we generally calculate necessary for a common laborer, he can work much cheaper, and still lay up money from his wages.

Certain peculiarities challenge our observation. The Chinese mariner's compass does not point to the north pole, but to the south; that is, the index is placed on the opposite end of the needle. When Chinamen meet each other in the street, instead of mutually grasping hands, they shake their own hands. The men wear skirts and the women wear pants. The men wear their hair as long as it will grow, the women bind theirs up as snug as possible. The dressmakers are not women, but men. The spoken language is never written, and the written language is never spoken. In reading a book the Chinaman begins at the end and reads backwards; all notes in the books appear at the top of the page in place of the bottom, as with us. White is the mourning color, not black; surnames precede the given names; vessels are launched sideways, not endways; in mounting a horse the Chinese do so from the off-side. At dinner we commence the meal with soup and fish, they reverse the order and begin with the dessert. Grown up men fly kites, and boys look on admiringly; our bridesmaids are young and dressed in white, theirs are old women clad in black; and so on.

From its special position in the East, Hong Kong is the resort of all sorts of people, from all quarters of the globe. England is of course the most strongly represented. There are comparatively very few Americans, but plenty of French and Germans, the latter mostly Jews and money lenders. There are numbers of East Indians, Italians, Portuguese, and Spaniards, with here and there a Parsee, making altogether a population which reminds one of Marseilles in its conglomerate character. These several races, mingling with the Chinese, make up an incongruous community. An early morning visit to the water front of the city affords much amusement, especially at the hour when the market boats arrive from the country, and from along shore, with fish and vegetables. Here the people swarm like ants or bees more than like human beings, all eager for business, all crowding and talking at the same time, and creating a confusion that would seem to defeat its own object, namely, to buy and to sell. The vegetables are various and good; the variety of fruit limited and poor in flavor; but the fish are abundant and various in shape, size, and colors. Nine tenths of the business on the river front is done by women, and nearly all have an infant strapped to their backs, while they carry heavy burdens in their hands, or are engaged in rowing or sculling their boats. They carry on trade, make change, clean fish, and the like, quite oblivious of the infants at their backs. Babies thus managed are often shaken about most unmercifully, and among Europeans would assert themselves by the loudest screeching; but who ever heard a Chinese or Japanese baby cry?

The environs of Hong Kong are extremely interesting, and the roads are kept in most admirable condition. The jinrikisha is the common mode of conveyance, though the palanquin is perhaps nearly as much used. The introduction of the former vehicle into both China and Japan is of quite recent date. We enjoyed several expeditious in the suburbs by both means of transportation, the charges being extremely moderate. The Japanese jinrikisha men seemed lighter, yet more muscular, than do their Chinese brethren when between the shafts; and the latter, after a few miles, exhibited symptoms of fatigue, whereas, on a long thirty-five mile trip, this was never observed in a Japanese: either he was superior in pluck or muscles, or both, to John Chinaman.

The English burial-ground, located about three miles from the town, is a very beautiful cemetery, and is to Hong Kong what Mount Auburn is to Boston,—not quite so extensive, but superior in its collection of flowers and trees, which must have been gathered and naturalized here at a great cost. The varieties of the cactus family are remarkable in numbers and mode of training. The same may be said of the camphor-tree, the aloes, tall and graceful cypresses, mingling with which are Cape jasmines, hydrangeas, magnolias, and the scarlet geranium, tall and hedge-like, barked by white, variegated, and scarlet camellias. Everything indicated a semi-tropical climate. These Chinese gardeners exhibit great skill and genius in the cultivation of all plants, and landscape gardening is carried far beyond our ideas of the art in America. Some flowering shrubs, on close examination, proved to be old friends, but so trained and developed as to be hardly recognizable. We observed a curious mode of grafting plants so as to cause several species to blossom on the same branch, thus forming, as it were, a glowing bouquet. The samples of dwarf trees were also very singular,—a little orange-tree, for instance, bearing an orange weighing more than itself, and lemons so arranged as to grow by grafting in and with an orange. It was an agreeable sight to see choice bouquets for sale on the public streets, containing a great variety of flowers arranged with genuine taste, a little too formal and stiff to meet our fancy, but yet finding ready customers at reasonable prices. In Madrid, Florence, or Paris, it is sunny-faced girls who offer these fragrant emblems to the passer-by; but at Hong Kong it is done with less effect by almond-eyed men and ragged boys. The city is so far Europeanized as to be less typical of Chinese manners and customs than are cities further inland; but revelations come upon us with less of a shock when mingled, as they are here, with more civilized methods.

The policemen of Hong Kong are Sikhs, whom the English government have imported from India for this special service. These officers are under excellent discipline. They are tall, dark, and heavily bearded men, presenting quite a striking appearance in their semi-military uniforms. Of course they have no sympathy with the Chinese, who cower under the police batons, which are ruthlessly used when deemed necessary. Society in the city is entirely English, and, to use an expressive word, is "fast." Balls, races, regattas, and fetes of all kinds follow each other with ceaseless energy. The gayety of domestic and social life, and the luxurious mode of living generally, exceed that of any European colony we have chanced to meet with. Club life, evening entertainments, and late hours, are the characteristics of Hong Kong; the serious affairs of life seem to have been left at home in far-off England,—an inevitable result where the military element enters so largely into the community.

It was represented to us, and so appeared upon observation, that the well known practice of compressing the feet of the females from their birth was a gradually declining custom. Some few middle-aged women were met with in the streets whose feet had been thus treated in infancy, and who hobbled about with much difficulty, but no young girls were to be seen thus hampered. When this hideous deformity has been adopted, the knee and ankle joints do not bend at all in walking; all movement is from the thigh joints, a mincing gait is imparted, and the arms swing from side to side, the whole body being at all times liable to topple over. A traveler is not competent, however, to speak of the higher classes of women, as no access is afforded to domestic life in wealthy families. Only women of the common class appear indiscriminately in public, Oriental exclusiveness wrapping itself about the sex in China nearly as rigidly as in Egypt. If women go abroad at all, it is in curtained palanquins, quite hidden from the public eye, or at most only partially visible through semi-transparent veils of gauze. Anywhere east of Italy woman is a toy or a slave.

The European portion of Hong Kong consists almost entirely of one broad avenue, called Victoria Road, which is the Broadway or Washington Street of the city, and which runs parallel with the shore front, from which it is separated by a single block. This thoroughfare is well paved, and is mostly lined with attractive stores, hotels, and club-houses, with a few dwellings intermixed. The intersecting streets are in many cases so steep as to be ascended by broad stone steps, like portions of Naples and Rome. After leaving the Victoria Road, one plunges immediately into Chinese life among narrow lanes and crowded, dirty abodes, like China Town at San Francisco, such dwellings as are only to be found in the midst of a miserable and degraded condition of humanity. The river or harbor front is lined with lofty European warehouses, and some good residences,—half devoted to business, however, the locality being mostly given up to the requirements of commerce. It will be remembered that Hong Kong is an island, nearly forty miles in circumference, consisting of a cluster of hills rising almost to the dignity of mountains. The gray granite, of which the island is mostly composed, affords an excellent material for building purposes, and is largely employed for that object. Nearly all the public buildings are constructed of this granite, which presents a fine appearance, and affords good opportunity for architectural display.

The side-wheel steamer Han Kow was taken for a passage up the Pearl River to Canton, the commercial capital of China, situated a little less than one hundred miles from Hong Kong. The steamer had some two or three hundred Chinese passengers, who were partitioned off in a part of the vessel by themselves, and securely locked, away from the European passengers. In the cabin, ranged about the foremast, were a dozen loaded repeating arms, rifles, and pistols for the use of the whites, in case the Chinese should rise and attempt an act of piracy by taking the ship. This has more than once been done upon the Pearl River, and the steamboat company now goes prepared to visit condign punishment upon such offenders.

In passing up the river, on board the Han Kow, a fine view was afforded of the farming and vegetation of the country. Banana, orange, sugar-cane, and tea culture, in their various stages, were in distinct view, the steamer at times nearly grazing the right or left bank, and being obliged to move slowly on account of shallow water in the winding channel. Strange birds, brilliant flowers, and remarkable trees trained to grow in the shape of men and animals, were seen bordering the plantations. Great fertility of soil, however it might be induced, was manifested on all hands, and the vegetation exhibited tropical luxuriance. The number of small fishing-boats upon the river was quite marked, showing from whence came a large percentage of the daily food of the humbler classes. These boats seemed to be almost entirely rowed and managed by women, always with the inevitable baby at their backs, sometimes sleeping, sometimes gazing vacantly about, but always quiet and contented.

The river is nearly two miles broad on an average, sometimes opening into bays of considerable size, six or eight miles across, and thus forming a water-way of immense importance in a country where railroads are unknown. The canals and rivers of China are her great dependence, her inland highways or roads being unworthy of the name,—exhibiting one of the most prominent features of the lack of national enterprise. China looks to the past, not to the future. Some advance has been forced upon her in the art of war. She no longer fights with fans, gongs, and fire-crackers, but "shoots bullets every time," as the French found to their most serious cost very lately. The remoteness of the country from the centres of civilization, the exclusiveness of the government, the almost incomprehensible character of the spoken language,—entirely different from the written tongue,—has always excited curiosity, and thrown a halo of romance over everything Chinese. This false glamour, however, disappears, like dew before the sun, by personal observation, and is superseded by something like a sense of contempt. The missionaries of science, commerce, and of religion have done much within the last twenty years to dispel the extravagant ideas entertained of the Celestial Empire, and have shown us that the race is by no means celestial, but a people very much like the rest of the Eastern nations, certainly no more civilized.

Canton is the strangest of all strange cities, and perhaps the most representative one in China. With a population of a million and a half, it has not a street within its walls over eight feet wide. Horses and vehicles are unknown. Even the useful and comfortable jinrikisha could not be used here, where everything to be moved must be transported on human shoulders. The city extends to about a distance of four miles on the banks of the Pearl River, and fully a hundred thousand people live in boats along the river front. The families occupying these sampans will average at least four individuals; a man and wife with two children,—frequently there are half a dozen of the latter. These boats are about twenty feet long and five wide. But a small portion of the after part has any covering, and the cooking is done in the bow. Here the family live,—cook, eat, and sleep, knowing no other home. The youngest children are often seen tied to the thwarts, and if they tumble overboard they are easily pulled back again.

There are hundreds of temples distributed over the city, many of which were visited and found to be crowded with idols and idlers, though we never saw a Chinaman praying in them. The corner of nearly every street, as well as numerous stores and dwelling-houses, have each an idol and small shrine on which incense is kept burning all the time, and every day of the year. The whole city is permeated with the smell of this highly scented incense, and though used in such small individual quantities the consumption in the aggregate must be very large. Of the numerous temples and pagodas in Canton probably the most famous is that of the Temple of the Five Hundred Gods, containing that number of gilded statues of Buddhist sages, apostles, and deified warriors. The expressions on the features of this large number of statues were remarkable in the fact that they all differed essentially from each other; otherwise they were exceedingly commonplace.

Every sort of manufacture or business is performed in the most primitive manner by hand, machinery of any sort being scarcely known; but personal service or labor is so cheap that it even competes with machinery. One is surprised as to how such a crowded community can exist in such an inconsiderable space; whole families live and sleep in a single small room. The Chinese, in point of domestic comfort and cleanliness, are a century behind the Japanese; and this remark will apply as well to nearly all the relations of life. There is less of nudity here than in the latter country; but, so far as one can judge by brief observation and inquiry, morality is at a lower gauge in China than in Japan. It is doubtless as true here as elsewhere, that "one touch of nature makes the whole world kin," but you lack the touch of nature. With the Japanese the traveler feels himself sympathizing. He goes among them freely, he enters their houses and drinks tea with them, but not so with the Chinese; here we realize no sense of affiliation, but rather one of repulsion. The universal amusement is that of gambling, and the means whereby the people gratify this passion are endless. Dominos, and several similar games, are most popular in connection with cards, the latter game, however, differing very materially from our own. The Chinese cards number a hundred to the pack. Cock fighting is universal, and is as much of a national game as at Manilla.

Our guide, who was an intelligent and high-caste native, took us into one of the opium dens, to be found in nearly every street of Canton, and where we saw the victims of the terrible indulgence in the several stages of debasement. A number of the smokers appeared to be men of average health and strength, but all had the dull, vacant eye and attenuated forms of the victims of this insidious habit. It was curious to hear the guide stoutly defend the use of the opium pipe. He declared that it lengthened, not shortened, life; besides which he insisted that with opium one lived a double life, and therefore he lived twice as long as he would do without it. "Europeans get drunk," said he, "and have nasty headache; Chinaman smokes opium, enjoys paradise on earth, but has no headache." Of course one cannot argue with an opium consumer to any good effect. The habit once acquired is never successfully abandoned. There is always some hope of reform for a drunkard, but for an opium-eater, never. No statistics of a reliable character as to the quantity of the deadly drug which is consumed in China can be obtained, but the aggregate amount, large as it is known to be, is yet increasing. All the opium which can be obtained from India is consumed here, beside that which is raised in China; the former by the wealthier classes, the latter by the poor,—the home product being cheaper and much inferior in quality.

The temples generally seemed to abound with votive offerings; but the one aim, so far as we could understand, was to appease the wrath of malignant deities. These gods, it would appear, are largely composed of departed ancestors, and the power of such spirits for mischief is the most prominent article of Chinese faith. In one temple was observed the hermetically sealed coffin of some lately defunct citizen, beside whose casket an abundant meal of cooked rice and vegetables was conspicuously placed. This preparation of food for the dead and buried is not, however, an exclusive Chinese idea. We have also seen food placed by the side of newly-made Italian graves at Genoa and Pisa, and our Western Indians bury arms, clothing, and dried meats with the bodies of deceased warriors. It is known that reverence for parents is the leading moral precept of Chinese faith, and more than that, it is lived up to upon earth by all classes, and when these parents die they are addressed spiritually and reverentially as guardians. At the entrance of the temples there are always two large, gilded wooden figures or idols, considered as a sort of presiding guard over the place.

We visited the Temple of Honan, a place of great sanctity to the natives. The service is conducted by a college of Buddhist priests resident within its walls. The institution consists of a group of shrines or demi-temples dedicated to special gods, and standing within enclosed courts, shaded by trees of great height, size, and age, the grounds covering many acres. At the main entrance are placed, as usual, two hideous idols of colossal size, figures half animal and half human in design, with strangely distorted countenances. Here the shaven-headed priests were busy performing rites and chanting before burning incense and lighted candles, after the Roman Catholic style. Within an enclosure were a number of sacred hogs, wallowing in filth like any other swine. Some lively Chinese boys mounted the largest of these, and extracting a few of the "sacred" bristles offered them to us for pennies. Upon our inquiring as to the final disposition of these animals, our guide, himself a remarkably dignified native, with "millions" of self-conceit, admitted that the fattest of the lot would probably be eaten in due season. We shall often have occasion, in these notes, to see how low poor humanity in its blindness can descend, groveling after strange gods. When trying to analyze the frame of mind which probably actuated these people in making sacred objects of swine, the thought suggested itself that after all it might be an instinctive groping of ignorance after light and truth. Crude, and even disgusting as it appears to an intelligent Christian, it has its palliating features. The Parsee worships fire, the Japanese bows before foxes and snakes, the Hindu deifies cows and monkeys. Why should not the Chinese have their swine as objects of veneration? There are certain forms of what is called Christian worship which are by no means above comparison with even Chinese extravagance.

Within the walls of this Temple of Honan was a spacious and curious garden, where the dwarf trees and flowering shrubs were ingeniously trimmed to make them grow in the forms of various animals; and here was a large pond of the sacred lotus in bloom, the thin, soft, white velvety leaves displaying every line and vein in their formation. The fragrance was very delicate. In the poetical language of the East the lotus is called the "goddess" as we call the rose the "queen" of flowers. We were here shown the cremating ovens in which the bodies of the departed priests are disposed of, and also the crude cells and the large refectory of the order. But somehow these priests, who pretend to lead such lives of self-denial, are wonderfully round and unctuous in personal appearance. Our visit to the Temple of Honan was a very curious and not uninteresting experience, made up of a strange conglomerate of swine, priests, fat idols, flower gardens, human roasting ovens, and pond lilies.

All over Canton may be seen lofty towers, square in form, which dominate the town. Our guide called these warehouses, or storehouses for the safe keeping of goods, they being both fire-proof and thief-proof. But further inquiry proved them to be a series of pawnbroker's establishments. In summer the average Chinaman pawns his winter clothing, and other articles not in actual use, thus enabling him to employ more capital in his business, whatever it may be. When the cold weather comes he redeems his needed clothing, and the same with other articles. So universal is this practice that hundreds of these tower-like pawning places are required to meet the demands of the citizens. As these establishments are supposed to be fire-proof, they do certainly afford a place of safety for valuable articles not in use, the owner paying storage in the form of interest for the money loaned, the goods being security.

The dwelling-house and pleasure-grounds of the late Poon-tin-qua, a distinguished and rich Chinaman, were visited, and proved to be typical of all Chinese pictures. Here were airy summer-houses, pavilions, bridges, rockeries, and ornamental sheets of water, as we see these things represented on lacquered ware, decorated China dishes, and fans. It was really very curious and amusing, and showed much of luxurious life,—even a private theatre being contained in the establishment. Though all seem to be deserted now and somewhat neglected, still the garden showed us roses, camellias, azaleas, lilies, and green shrubs trained in the usual grotesque manner, not forgetting the dwarf trees, which seem to give this people great satisfaction when successfully cultivated.

As regards the punishment of crime in Canton, one would look in vain for justice, but there is plenty of cruelty. We visited the execution yard, a circumscribed space in the very heart of the city. Here, our guide told us, twenty condemned prisoners were executed weekly, by decapitation, each Friday being devoted to clearing the docket. The executioner takes off a head with one stroke of the sword, and the guide said he had witnessed the decapitation of eleven heads in seven minutes. Through a grating in the wall of the yard, an open area was seen where a crowd of manacled prisoners were sitting upon the ground, no shelter being afforded them night or day. The place was more filthy than a cattle-pen,—so offensive that we remained but a few moments. It is doubtful if anywhere else in the world such barbarous carnage and cruelty exists, under the guise of legal punishment.

Much has been said about the wonderful Water-clock of Canton, but it is actually a very simple and crude mode of measuring time, which any smart Yankee school-boy would improve upon. It consists of four tubs of water, located one above the other on a wooden frame, each dripping slowly into the one below it, the last being furnished with a float, the rise of which is measured on a graduated scale, indicating units of time; and such is the famous Water-clock of Canton. We were not disposed to walk any more than was necessary in the public streets, where the foulest odors assailed us at every step, and disgusting sights met the eye in the form of diseased individuals of the most loathsome type. The stranger is jostled by staggering coolies, with buckets of the vilest contents, or importuned for alms by beggars who thrust their deformed limbs into his very face. It is but natural to fear contagion of some sort from contact with such creatures, and yet the crowd is so dense that it is impossible to entirely avoid them. Underfoot the streets are wet, muddy, tortuous, and slippery, so that one comes from them with a feeling that a hot bath is an immediate necessity. Why some deadly pestilence does not at once break out and sweep away the people is a mystery. We know that the Ghetto at Rome, which forms the most filthy part of the Eternal City, was entirely spared when the rest of the place was decimated by cholera; but Canton generally is far dirtier than the Roman Ghetto.

As we found it almost impossible to traverse the streets of Canton on foot, we were carried, each person, in a palanquin, upon the shoulders of four coolies. These vehicles can make their way through the narrow streets, but cannot turn round in them without going to some open space where several streets meet. The bearers trudge along, keeping step with each other, and uttering a loud, peculiar cry to clear the way, reminding one of the gondoliers on the canals of Venice. People were obliged to step into shops and doorways, or flatten themselves against buildings, in order to make room for us to pass in the palanquins, but they did so with a good grace and took it quite as a matter of course. Whenever we stopped for a trifling purchase or to visit some point of interest, a small crowd was sure to collect. The narrow lanes are lined in many sections by stores containing very attractive goods, curiosities, silks, fine China ware, ivory, scented woods, mother-of-pearl and carved tortoise shell, all goods of native manufacture. The remarkable patience and imitative skill of the Chinese enables them to produce very choice goods in these lines of art. The shops being all open in front, the entire contents can be seen by the passers-by. Many of these passages are covered over at the top by matting, which effectually excludes the sun, and, indeed, much other light, so that they often have a sombre and dreary appearance.

It was interesting to watch the operation of the primitive hand-loom in which is woven the favorite Canton silk. The fabric is beautiful and expensive, being sold by the pound in place of by the yard, as with us. Men and boys only engage in silk weaving. Women assume the heavier and more exposed branches of labor, and of out-door-life, besides lugging their infants. Some of the lofty and utterly useless pagodas, which are over twelve hundred years old, are quite unique in architecture and ornamentation. One was visited which was nine stories high, measuring in a vertical line about two hundred feet. Observing a woman at one of the shrines fanning an idol, the guide was asked for an explanation. He said that the woman would presently take this fan home with which to fan some sick person, and from this process would hope for miraculous intervention in behalf of the suffering one. "And do you believe there is any efficacy in such a proceeding?" we asked. "You would call it the result of credulity and imagination," was his intelligent reply, "but I have seen some wonderful cures brought about after this manner. Do not people, who call themselves Christians, believe in prayer?" "Most certainly," we replied. "Well," continued the guide, "this is simply Chinese prayer." After this explanation, the queer proceeding of fanning an idol seamed less strange. That was certainly a good answer,—calling it Chinese prayer.

Undoubtedly our type of features is repulsive to the average Chinaman, certainly his is very much so to us. One looked in vain among the smooth chins, shaved heads, and almond eyes of the crowd for signs of intelligence and manliness. There are no tokens of humor or cheerfulness to be seen, but in its place there is plenty of cunning, slyness, and deceit, if there is any truth in physiognomy. The men look like women and the women like children, except that their features are so hard and forbidding. The better classes wear a supercilious expression of features that makes the toes of one's boots tingle; and yet in all the shops there is a cringing assiduity to get all the silver and pennies from the outside barbarians that is possible. In the streets there was a most unmistakable surliness exhibited that would have broken into forcible demonstration as we passed through them only for the instinctive cowardice of the Asiatics. It is quite impossible to express what a strange sea of life these narrow Canton streets exhibited, as we floated through them in palanquins upon the shoulders of the coolies. Their filth dominated all other characteristics, and forced upon the memory Charles Lamb's remark to his friend, when he said: "Martin, if dirt was trumps, what a hand you would hold."

Philanthropic societies are numerous in the cities of China, hardly exceeded in variety and excellence of design by those of Europe and America. These embrace well-organized orphan asylums, institutions for the relief of indigent widows with families, homes for the aged and infirm, public hospitals, and free schools in nearly every district. As with ourselves, some of these are purely governmental charities, others are supported by liberal endowments left by deceased citizens. Depots for the distribution of medicines to the poor are numerous, and others exist for distributing clothing to the needy. One organization was mentioned to us which supplied coffins to the poor, and bore the expenses of burial. Among the dense population of the country there must be ample occasion for the exercise of such charities. It must be remembered that these societies and organizations are not copied from European or American models; they have existed here from time immemorial.

Philologists have vainly endeavored to trace any affinity between the Chinese language and that of other nations, ancient or modern. It is unique,—an original tongue, and, what is equally remarkable, no other nation, except the neighboring Japanese, have ever borrowed from it, or amalgamated any of its elements with their own. It must have risen in its written form from the untutored efforts of a primitive people. Like the Egyptian tongue, it was at first probably composed of hieroglyphics, which, in the course of time, became symbolic as they stand to-day.

The foreign population of Canton, American, English, French, etc., live upon a spacious and beautiful island by themselves. The island is connected with the city proper by a stone bridge having iron gates, through which no native is permitted to pass unless in the domestic employment of the residents, and then they are obliged to show their written permits each time to the guard on duty at the gate of the bridge. All of the foreign consuls with their families reside here in elegant quarters, surrounding their European style of dwellings with fine gardens, trees, and pleasant walks, and here they extend to travelers hospitality only too open-handed and generous. They are completely isolated from the outer world socially, and intelligent visitors from abroad are cordially welcomed by them.

An inexhaustible agricultural capacity remains unimproved in China, and the same may be said of her rich store of mineral wealth, which, under American enterprise and facilities, would soon revolutionize the country in its products and exports. Save the districts which are traversed by the canals, the present means of communication between different parts of the country are scarcely superior to those of Central Africa. The so-called national roads are nearly impassable. No other country in the world would be so surely and rapidly benefited by a thorough system of railroads as would China. Gold and silver are found in nearly every province of the Empire, the former being still procured by the most primitive processes, such as washing the river sands by hand, which are recharged by the freshets from the mountains,—a mode that would satisfy only Chinese labor. Coal is the most widespread, most valuable, and most accessible of all the buried treasures. If the twelve thousand miles of coal-fields have made Great Britain the workshop of the world, what may not be anticipated from the four hundred thousand square miles of Chinese coal-fields, which are capable of supplying the whole world, at the present rate of consumption, for thousands of years?

The depressing monotony in the customs, habits, and ideas of the Chinese, as contrasted with their neighbors, the Japanese, forces itself upon the notice of the traveler. There is no variety among the race, either in manners, dress, or architecture; one section of the country seems precisely like another, so far as the people are concerned, however widely divided, and all follow one model. There is no individuality. They look to the past not to the future. There is no such possibility as a nation's standing still; it either retrogrades or progresses. China, whose people do everything in a left-handed manner, advances like a crab, backwards. It would seem as if she must eventually dry up and die of old age; and yet, within the limits of the Chinese Empire is probably comprised one fourth of the human race. Strive as much as we may to be fair and liberal, it is yet impossible to disguise our strong dislike to the people whom we were now about to leave. A sense of relief on departing from pestilential Canton was inevitable, and there was little to attract us longer at Hong Kong, to which city we returned in the steamship Powan.

It is not wise to shut our eyes to facts which have passed into history, or be too strongly influenced by personal prejudice. The Chinese have long been a cultured, reading people. Their veritable records take them back to the days of Abraham. Five hundred years before the art of printing was known to Europe, books were multiplied by movable types in China, and her annals thereby preserved. Whatever of ignorance may attach to the people as it regards matters extraneous to their empire, the detailed and accurate knowledge of their own country and its statistics is evident enough from the elaborate printed works in the native tongue. Every province has its separate history in print, specifying its productions, a brief record of its eminent men, and of all matters of local importance. Reliable maps of every section of the country are extant. The civil code of laws is annually published and corrected. In the departments of science relating to geography and astronomy, they have long been well advanced. A certain amount of education is universal, eight tenths of the people being able to read and write. The estimate in which letters are held is clear, from the fact that learning forms the very threshold that leads to fame, honor, and official position. Competitive examination is the mode by which office is disposed of, those who hold the highest standard of scholarship bearing off the palm. The art of printing has been referred to as having its origin in China. In two other important discoveries this nation long precedes Europe; namely, in the use of gunpowder and the magnetic compass, the knowledge of which traveled slowly westward through the channels of Oriental commerce, by way of Asia Minor or the Red Sea. It is only just and fair for us to look on both sides of the subject.