Round the World
by
Andrew Carnegie
Part 1 out of 5
Produced by Paul Wenker, Kurt Hockenbury
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
ROUND THE WORLD
BY ANDREW CARNEGIE
PREFACE
It seems almost unnecessary to say that "Round the World," like
"An American Four-in-Hand in Britain," was originally printed for
private circulation. My publishers having asked permission to give
it to the public, I have been induced to undertake the slight
revision, and to make some additions necessary to fit the original
for general circulation, not so much by the favorable reception
accorded to the "Four-in-Hand" in England as well as in America,
nor even by the flattering words of the critics who have dealt so
kindly with it, but chiefly because of many valued letters which
entire strangers have been so extremely good as to take the
trouble to write to me, and which indeed are still coming almost
daily. Some of these are from invalids who thank me for making the
days during which they read the book pass more brightly than
before. Can any knowledge be sweeter to one than this? These
letters are precious to me, and it is their writers who are mainly
responsible for this second volume, especially since some who have
thus written have asked where it could be obtained and I have no
copies to send to them, which it would have given me a rare
pleasure to be able to do.
I hope they will like it as they did the other. Some friends
consider it better; others prefer the "Four-in-Hand." I think them
different. While coaching I was more joyously happy; during the
journey round the World I was gaining more knowledge; but if my
readers like me half as well in the latter as in the former mood,
I shall have only too much cause to subscribe myself with sincere
thanks,
Most gratefully,
THE AUTHOR.
"Think on thy friends when thou haply see'st
Some rare, noteworthy object in thy travels,
Wish them partakers of thy happiness."
ROUND THE WORLD.
NEW YORK, Saturday, October 12, 1878.
Bang! click! the desk closes, the key turns, and good-bye for a
year to my wards--that goodly cluster over which I have watched
with parental solicitude for many a day; their several cribs full
of records and labelled Union Iron Mills, Lucy Furnaces, Keystone
Bridge Works, Union Forge, Cokevale Works, and last, but not
least, that infant Hercules, the Edgar Thomson Steel Rail
Works--good lusty bairns all, and well calculated to survive in
The struggle for existence--great things are expected of them in
The future, but for the present I bid them farewell; I'm off for
a holiday, and the rise and fall of iron and steel "affecteth me
not."
Years ago, Vandy, Harry, and I, standing in the very bottom of the
crater of Mount Vesuvius, where we had roasted eggs and drank to
the success of our next trip, resolved that some day, instead of
turning back as we had then to do, we would make a tour round the
Ball. My first return to Scotland and journey through Europe was
an epoch in my life, I had so early in my days determined to do
it; to-day another epoch comes--our tour fulfils another youthful
aspiration. There is a sense of supreme satisfaction in carrying
out these early dreams which I think nothing else can give, it is
such a triumph to realize one's castles in the air. Other dreams
remain, which in good time also _must_ come to pass; for
nothing can defeat these early inborn hopes, if one lives, and if
death comes there is, until the latest day, the exaltation which
comes from victory if one but continues true to his guiding star
and manfully struggles on.
And now what to take for the long weary hours! for travellers know
that sight-seeing is hard work, and that the ocean wave may become
monotonous. I cannot carry a whole library with me. Yes, even this
can be done; mother's thoughtfulness solves the problem, for she
gives me Shakespeare, in thirteen small handy volumes. Come, then,
my Shakespeare, you alone of all the mighty past shall be my sole
companion. I seek none else; there is no want when you are near,
no mood when you are not welcome--a library indeed, and I look
forward with great pleasure to many hours' communion with you on
lonely seas--a lover might as well sigh for more than his
affianced as I for any but you. A twitch of conscience here. You
ploughman bard, who are so much to me, are you then forgotten? No,
no, Robin, no need of taking you in my trunk; I have you in my
heart, from "A man's a man for a that" to "My Nannie's awa'."
* * * * *
PITTSBURGH, Thursday, October 17.
What is this? A telegram! "Belgic sails from San Francisco 24th
instead of 28th." Can we make it? Yes, travelling direct and via
Omaha, and not seeing Denver as intended. All right! through we
go, and here we are at St. Louis Friday morning, and off for Omaha
to catch the Saturday morning train for San Francisco. If we miss
but one connection we shall reach San Francisco too late. But we
sha'n't. Having courted the fickle goddess assiduously, and
secured her smiles, we are not going to lose faith in her now,
come what may. See if our good fortune doesn't carry us through!
* * * * *
OMAHA, Saturday, October 19.
All aboard for "Frisco!"
A train of three Pullmans, all well filled--but what is this shift
made for, at the last moment, when we thought we were off? Another
car to be attached, carrying to the Pacific coast Rarus and
Sweetzer, the fastest trotter and pacer, respectively, in the
world. How we advance! Shades of Flora Temple and "2.40 on the
plank road!" That was the cry when first I took to horses--that
is, to owning them. At a much earlier age I was stealing a ride on
every thing within reach that had four legs and could go. One
takes to horseflesh by inheritance. Rarus now goes in 2.13-1/4,
and Ten Broeck beats Lexington's best time many seconds. I saw him
do it. And so in this fast age, second by second, we gain upon old
Father Time. Even since this was written more than another second
has been knocked off. America leads the world in trotters, and
will probable do so in running horses as well, when we begin to
develop them in earnest. Our soft roads are favorable for speed;
the English roads would ruin a fast horse.
We traverse all day a vast prairie watered by the Platte. Nothing
could be finer: such fields of corn standing ungathered, such
herds of cattle grazing at will! It is a superb day, and the
russet-brown mantle in which Nature arrays herself in the autumn
never showed to better advantage; but in all directions we see the
prairies on fire. Farmers burn them over as the easiest mode of
getting rid of the rank weeds and undergrowth; but it seems a
dangerous practice. They plough a strip twenty to thirty feet in
width around their houses, barns, hay-stacks, etc., and depend
upon the flames not overleaping this barrier.
Third night out, and we are less fatigued than at the beginning.
The first night upon a sleeping-car is the most fatiguing. Each
successive one is less wearisome, and ere the fifth or sixth comes
you really rest well. So much for custom!
* * * * *
SUNDAY, October 20.
All day long we have been passing through the grazing plains of
Nebraska. Endless herds of cattle untrammelled by fences; the
landscape a brown sea as far as the eye can reach; a rude hut now
and then for a shelter to the shepherds. No wonder we export beef,
for it is fed here for nothing. Horses and cattle thrive on the rich
grasses as if fed on oats; no flies, no mosquitoes, nothing to
disturb or annoy, while the pellucid streams which run through the
ranches furnish the best of water. There can be no question that our
export trade is still in its infancy. The business is now fully
organized, and is subject to well-known rules. At Sherman we saw the
large show-bills of the Wyoming County Cattle Raisers' Association,
offering heavy rewards for offenders against these rules, and the
Cheyenne _Herald_ is filled with advertisements of the various
"marks" adopted by different owners. Large profits have been made in
the trade--the best assurance that it will grow--but from all I can
gather it seems doubtful whether the experiment of exporting cattle
alive will succeed.
We saw numerous herds of antelope to-day, but they graze among the
cattle, and are altogether too finely civilized to meet our idea of
"chasing the antelope over the plain;" one might as well chase a
sheep. As night approaches we get higher and higher up the far-famed
Rocky Mountains, and before dark reach the most elevated point, at
Sherman, eight thousand feet above tide. But our preconceived
notions of the Rocky Mountains, derived from pictures of Fremont _à
la_ Napoleon crossing the Alps, have received a rude shock; we only
climb high plains--not a tree, nor a peak, nor a ravine; when at the
top we are but on level ground--a brown prairie, "only this, and
nothing more."
* * * * *
TUESDAY, October 22.
Desolation! In the great desert! It extends southward to Mexico
and northward to British Columbia, and is five hundred miles in
width. Rivers traverse it only to lose themselves in its sands,
there being no known outlet for the waters of this vast basin.
What caverns must exist below capable of receiving them! and
whither do they finally go?
At the station we begin to meet a mixture of Chinese and
Indians--Shoshones, Piutes, and Winnemuccas. The Chinamen are at
work on the line, and appear to be very expert. At Ogden we get
some honey grapes--the sweetest I ever tasted. It is midnight
before we are out of the desert.
We are up early to see the Sierras. My first glimpse was of a
ravine resembling very much the Alleghany Gap below
Bennington--going to bed in a desert and awaking to such a view
was a delightful surprise indeed. We are now running down the
western slope two hundred and twenty-five miles from San
Francisco, with mines on both sides, and numerous flumes which
tell of busy times. Halloa! what's this? Dutch Flat. Shades of
Bret Harte, true child of genius, what a pity you ever forsook
these scenes to dwindle in the foreign air of the Atlantic coast!
A whispering pine of the Sierras transplanted to Fifth Avenue!
How could it grow? Although it shows some faint signs of life,
how sickly are the leaves! As for fruit, there is none. America
had in Bret Harte its most distinctively national poet. His
reputation in Europe proved his originality. The fact is,
American poets have been only English "with a difference."
Tennyson might have written the "Psalm of Life," Browning
"Thanatopsis," but who could have written "Her Letter," or "Flynn
of Virginia," or "Jim," or "Chiquita"? An American, flesh and
bone, and none other. If the East would only discard him, as
Edinburgh society did his greater prototype, he might be forced
to return to his "native heath" in poverty, and rise again as the
first truly American poet. But poets, and indeed great artists as
a class, seem to yield their best only under pressure. The grape
must be crushed if we would have wine. Give a poet "society" at
his feet and he sings no more, or sings as Tennyson has been
singing of late years--fit strains to prepare us for the disgrace
he has brought upon the poet's calling. Poor, weak, silly old man!
Forgive him, however, for what he has done when truly the poet. He
was noble then and didn't know it; now he is a sham noble and
_knows_ it. Punishment enough that he stands no more upon the
mountain heights o'ertopping the petty ambitions of English life,
"With his garlands
And his singing robes about him."
His poet's robes, alas! are gone. Room, now, for the masquerader
disguised as a British peer! Place, next the last great vulgar
brewer or unprincipled political trimmer in that motley assembly,
the House of Lords!
The weather is superb, the sky cloudless; the train stops to allow
us to see the celebrated Cape Horn; the railroad skirts the edge
of the mountain, and we stand upon a precipice two thousand feet
high, smaller mountains enclosing the plain below, and the
American River running at our feet. It is very fine, indeed, but
the grandeur between Pack Saddle and San Francisco, with the
exception of the entrance to Weber Cañon and a few miles in the
vicinity, is all here; as a whole, the scenery on the Pacific
Railroad is disappointing to one familiar with the Alleghanies.
At Colfax, two hundred miles from San Francisco, we stop for
breakfast and have our first experience of fresh California grapes
and salmon; the former black Hamburgs not to be excelled by the
best hot-house grapes of England; and what a bagful for a quarter!
We tried the native white wine at dinner, and found it a fair
Sauterne. With such grapes and climate, it must surely be only a
question of a few years before the true American wine makes its
appearance, and then what shall we have to import? Silks and
woollens are going, watches and jewelry have already gone, and in
this connection I think I may venture to say good-bye to foreign
iron and steel; cotton goods went long ago. Now if wines, and
especially champagne--that creature of fashion--should go, what
shall we have to tax? What if America, which has given to mankind
so many political lessons, should be destined to show a government
living up to the very highest dictate of political economy, viz.,
supported by direct taxation! No, there remain our home products,
whiskey and tobacco; let us be satisfied to do the next best thing
and make these pay the entire cost of government. The day is not
far distant when out of these two so-called luxuries we shall
collect all our taxes; and those virtuous citizens who use neither
shall escape scot-free. Although these sentences were written
years ago, now since we approach the threshold of fulfilment I am
not sure that upon the whole the total abolition of the internal
revenue system is not preferable. We should thus dispense with
four thousand officials. In government, the fewer the better.
No greater contrast can be imagined than that from the barren
desert to the fertile plains below; oleanders and geraniums greet
us with their welcome smiles; grapes, pears, peaches, all in
profusion; we are indeed in the Italy of America at last, and
Sacramento is reached by half-past ten. Since the great flood
which almost ruined it some years ago, extensive dykes have been
built, walling in the city, which so far have proved a sufficient
barrier against the rapid swellings of the American River, that
pours down its torrents from the mountains; but if Sacramento be
now secure against flood, it is certainly vulnerable to the
attacks of the not less terrible demon of fire. Such a mass of
combustible material piled together and called a city I never saw
before: it is a tinder-box, and we are to hear of its destruction
some day. Prepare for an extra: "Great fire in Sacramento; the
city in ashes;" but then, don't let us call it accidental.
What a valley we rush through for the hundred miles which separate
Sacramento from San Francisco! It is about sixty miles wide, and as
level as a billiard-table. Here are the famous wheat fields: as far
as the eye can reach on either side we see nothing but the golden
straw standing, minus the heads of wheat which have been cut off,
the straw being left to be burned down as a fertilizer. Fancy a
Western prairie, substitute golden grain for corn, and you have
before you the California harvest; for four hundred miles this
valley extends, and it is wheat from one end to the other--nothing
but wheat. Granted sufficient rain in the rainy season--that is,
from November till February--and the husbandman seeks nothing more;
Nature does all the rest, and a bountiful harvest is a certainty. In
some years there is a scarcity of rain, but to provide against even
this sole remaining contingency the rivers have but to be properly
used for irrigation; with this done, the wheat crop of the Pacific
coast will outstrip in value, year after year, all the gold and
silver that can be mined. Douglas Jerrold's famous saying applies to
no other land so well as to this, for it indeed needs only "to be
tickled with a hoe to smile with a harvest."
We reached Oakland, the Jersey City of San Francisco, on time to
the minute; the ferry-boat starts, and there lies before us the
New York of the Pacific: but instead of the bright sparkling city
we had pictured, sinking to rest with its tall spires suffused by
the glories of the setting sun, imagine our surprise when not even
our own smoky Pittsburgh could boast a denser canopy of smoke. A
friend who had kindly met us upon arrival at Oakland tried to
explain that this was not all smoke; it was mostly fog, and a
peculiar wind which sometimes had this effect; but we could
scarcely be mistaken upon that point. No, no, Mr. O'B., you may
know all about "Frisco," the Chinese, the mines, and the Yosemite,
but do allow me to know something about smoke. We reached our
hotel, from the seven days' trip, and, after a bath and a good
dinner with agreeable company, were shown as much of the city as
it was possible to see before the "wee short hour ayont the
twal'."
* * * * *
PALACE HOTEL, SAN FRANCISCO, Wednesday Evening, October 23.
A palace truly! Where shall we find its equal? Windsor Hotel,
good-bye! you must yield the palm to your great Western rival, as
far as structure goes, though in all other respects you may keep
the foremost place. There is no other hotel building in the world
equal to this. The court of the Grand at Paris is poor compared to
that of the Palace. Its general effect at night, when brilliantly
lighted, is superb; its furniture, rooms and appointments are all
fine, but then it tells you all over it was built to "whip all
creation," and the millions of its lucky owner enabled him to
triumph. It is as much in place in San Francisco as the Taj would
be in Sligo; but then your California operator, when he has made a
"pile," goes in for a hotel, just as in New York one takes to a
marble palace or a grand railway depot, or in Cincinnati to a
music hall, or in Pittsburgh to building a church or another
rolling mill. Every community has its social idiosyncrasies, but
it struck us as rather an amusing coincidence that while we had
recently greeted no less a man than Potter Palmer, Esq., behind
the counter in Chicago as "mine host of the Garter," we should so
soon have found ourselves in the keeping of Senator Sharon, lessee
of the Palace. These hotels do not impress one as being quite
suitable monuments for one who naturally considers his labors
about over when he builds, as they are apt apparently to prove
rather lively for comfort to the owners, and we have decided when
our building time comes that it shall not be in the hotel line. We
got to bed at last, but who could sleep after such a day--after
such a week! The ceaseless motion, with the click, click, click of
the wheels--our sweet lullaby apparently this had become--was
wanting; and then the telegrams from home, which bade us Godspeed,
the warm, balmy air of Italy, when we had left winter behind--all
this drove sleep away; and when drowsiness came, what apparitions
of Japanese, Chinese, Indians, elephants, camels, josses! passed
through our brain in endless procession. We were at the Golden
Gate; we had just reached the edge of the Pacific Ocean, and
before us lay
... "the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous East, with richest hand,
Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold.
To every blink the livelong night there came this refrain, which
seemed to close each scene of Oriental magnificence that haunted
the imagination:
"And our gude ship sails ye morn,
And our gude ship sails ye morn."
Do what I would, the words of the old Scotch ballad would not
down. Sleep! who could sleep in such an hour? Dead must be the man
whose pulse beats not quicker, and whose enthusiasm is not
enkindled when for the first time he is privileged to whisper to
himself, The East! the East!
"And our gude ship sails ye morn."
* * * * *
HARBOR OF SAN FRANCISCO, Thursday, October 24.
At last! noon, 24th, and there she lies--the Belgic at her dock!
What a crowd! but not of us; eight hundred Chinamen are to return
to the Flowery Land. One looks like another; but how quiet they
are! Are they happy? overjoyed at being homeward bound? We cannot
judge. Those sphinx-like, copper-colored faces tell us no tales.
We had asked a question last night by telegraph, and here is the
reply brought to us on the deck. It ends with a tender good-bye.
How near and yet how far! but even if the message had sought us
out at the Antipodes, its power to warm the heart with the sense
of the near presence and companionship of those we love would only
have been enhanced. In this we seem almost to have reached the
dream of the Swedish seer, who tells us that thought brings
presence, annihilating space in heaven.
We start promptly at noon. Our ship is deeply laden with flour,
which China needs in consequence of the famine prevailing in its
northern provinces, not owing to a failure of the rice, as I had
understood, but of the millet, which is used by the poor instead
of rice. Some writers estimate that five millions of people must
die from starvation before the next crop can be gathered; but this
seems incredible. And now America comes to the rescue, so that at
this moment, while from its Eastern shores it pours forth its
inexhaustible stores to feed Europe, it sends from the West of its
surplus to the older races of the far East. Thus from all sides,
fabled Ceres as she is, she scatters to all peoples from the horn
of plenty. Favored land, may you prove worthy of all your
blessings and show to the world that after ages of wars and
conquests there comes at last to the troubled earth the glorious
reign of peace. But no new steel cruisers, no standing army. These
are the devil's tools in monarchies; the Republic's weapons are
the ploughshare and the pruning hook.
For three hundred miles the Pacific is never pacific. Coast winds
create a swell, and our first two nights at sea were trying to bad
sailors, but the motion was to me so soft after our long railway
ride that I seemed to be resting on air cushions. It was more
delightful to be awake and enjoy the sense of perfect rest than to
sleep, tired as we were; so we lay literally
"Rocked in the cradle of the rude imperious surge,"
and enjoyed it.
To some of my talented New York friends who are touched with
Buddhism just now and much puzzled to describe, and I judge even
to imagine, their heaven, I confidently recommend a week's
continuous jar upon a rough railway as the surest preparation for
attaining a just conception of Nirvana, where perfect rest is held
the greatest possible bliss. Lying, as I did apparently, upon air
cushions, and rocked so softly on the waves, I had not a wish;
desire was gone; I was content; every particle of my weary body
seemed bathed in delight. Here was the delicious sense of rest we
are promised in Nirvana. The third day out we are beyond the
influence of the coast, and begin our first experience of the
Pacific Ocean. So far it is simply perfect; we are on the ideal
summer sea. What hours for lovers, these superb nights! they would
develop rapidly, I'm sure, under such skyey influences. The
temperature is genial, balmy breezes blow, there is no feeling of
chilliness; the sea, bathed in silver, glistens in the moonlight;
we sit under awnings and glide through the water. The loneliness
of this great ocean I find very impressive--so different from the
Atlantic pathway--we are so terribly alone, a speck in the
universe; the sky seems to enclose us in a huge inverted bowl, and
we are only groping about, as it were, to find a way out; it is
equidistant all around us; nothing but clouds and water. But as we
sail westward we have every night a magnificent picture. I have
never seen such resplendent sunsets as these: we seem nightly to
be just approaching the gates of Enchanted Land; through the
clouds, in beautiful perspective, shine the gardens of the
Hesperides, and imagination readily creates fairy lands beyond,
peopled with spirits and fays. It is not so much the gorgeousness
of the colors as their variety which gives these sunsets a
character of their own; one can find anything he chooses in their
infinite depths. Turner must have seen such in his mind's eye. "I
never saw such sunsets as these you paint," said the critic of his
style. "No; don't you wish you could?" was the reply. But I think
even a prosaic critic would feel that these Pacific pictures have
a spiritual sense beyond the letter, unless, indeed, he were
Wordsworth's friend, to whom
"A primrose by a river's brim
A yellow primrose was to him,
And it was nothing more."
He, of course, is hopeless.
* * * * *
THURSDAY, October 31.
We have been a week at sea. Can it be only seven days since we
waved adieu to bright eyes on the pier? We begin to feel at home
on the ship. The passengers are now known to each other, and
hereafter the days, will slip by faster. I went down with the
doctor and Vandy to see the Chinamen to-day. What a sight! Piled
in narrow cots three tiers deep, with passages between the rows
scarcely wide enough for one to walk, from end to end of the ship
these poor wretches lie in an atmosphere so stifling that I had to
rush up to the deck for air. So far three have died, and two have
become crazy. My foolish curiosity has made the voyage less
satisfactory, for I cannot forget the danger of disease breaking
out among this horde, nor can I drive the yellow, stupid-looking
faces out of mind. The night of the day in which I had gone below
we were playing a rubber of whist in the cabin when the port-hole
at my head was pushed open, and a voice in broken English shouted,
"Crazee manee; he makee firee, firee!" I jumped round and saw a
Chinaman. Such an expression--Shakespeare alone has described it--
"And with a look so piteous in purport,
As if he had been loosed out of hell
To speak of horrors."
Fire! that epitome of all that is appalling at sea, the danger
each one instinctively dreads, but no one mentions. One ran one
way and one another. The doctor (a real canny Scot, who sings "My
Nannie's awa'" like Wilson) was over the rail and down the hold in
a moment. I ran to Captain Meyer's room on the upper deck and
roused him. He too was down and in the hold like a flash--brave
fellows that they are, these "true British sailors." I waited the
result, knowing that if fire had really started, a general
stampede of Chinamen would soon come from the hatches; but all was
still. How long those few moments seemed! In a short time the
captain returned, looking, in his night-clothes, like a ghost. One
of the crazy men had broken loose from his chains, and the
Chinamen were panic-stricken. The watchman wanted the most
startling alarm, and found it, undoubtedly, in that word fire. It
is all over; but when he next has to sound an alarm let him "take
any form but that."
We have a reverend missionary and wife, with two young lady
missionaries in embryo, who are on their way to begin their labors
among the Chinese. They are busily engaged learning the language.
Poor girls! what a life they have before them! But apart from all
question of its true usefulness, they have the grand thought to
sustain them, and ennoble their lives, that they go at the call of
what seems to them their duty. We watch the Chinese eating and
laugh at their chopsticks, but we forget that one reason why John
Chinaman prides himself upon being at the pinnacle of civilization
is that he uses these very chopsticks. (None of the races of Asia,
and until recently he knew no other, have ever got beyond
chopsticks, the use of which was first taught China, while most
of them don't even have them yet.) Let us not forget that our
ancestors were using their fingers--barbarians that they
were--when the Chinese had risen, centuries before, to the
refinement of these sticks, for the fork is only about three
hundred years old. Shakespeare probably, Spenser certainly, had
only a knife at his girdle to carve the meat he ate, the fingers
being important auxiliaries. We must be modest upon this chopstick
question. It costs the ship eleven cents (5-1/2 d.) per day a head
to feed these people, and this pays for a wholesome diet in great
abundance, much beyond what they are accustomed to.
While on the subject of the Chinaman I may note that of course we
did not get through California without hearing the Chinese problem
warmly discussed. It is the burning question just now upon the
Pacific coast, but it seems to me our Californians' fears are, as
Colonel Diehl would put it, "slightly previous." There are only
about 130,000 Chinese in America, and great numbers are returning
as the result of hard times, and I fear harder treatment. There is
no indication that we are to be overrun by them, and until they
change their religious ideas and come to California to marry,
settle, die, and be buried there, it is preposterous to believe
there is any thing in the agitation against them beyond the usual
prejudice of the ignorant races next to them in the social scale.
I met the owner of a quicksilver mine, whose remarks shed a flood
of light upon the matter. The mine yields a lean ore, and did not
pay when worked by white labor costing $2 to $2.50 per day. He
contracted with a Chinaman to furnish 170 men at one-half these
rates. They work well, doing as much per man as the white man can
do in this climate. He has no trouble with them--no fights, no
sprees, no strikes. The difference in the cost enables him to work
at a profit a mine which otherwise would be idle; and to such as
talk against Chinese labor in the neighborhood, he replies, "Very
well, drive it off if you please, but the mine stops if you do."
The benefit to the district of having a mine actively at work has
so far insured protection. This is the whole story. Our free
American citizen from Tipperary and the restless rowdy of home
growth find a rival beating them in the race, and instead of
taking the lesson to heart and practising the virtues which cause
the Chinaman to excel, they mount the rostrum and proclaim that
this is a "white man's country," and "down with the nigger and the
Heathen Chinee," and "three cheers for whiskey and a free fight!"
The Chinese question has not reached a stage requiring
legislation, nor, if let alone, will it do so for centuries to
come--and not then unless the Chinese change their religious
ideas, which they have not done for thousands of years, and are
not likely to do in our time.
* * * * *
FRIDAY, November 1
We saw flying-fishes to-day for the first time. The captain had
been telling us as we approached the 3Oth degree of latitude that
we should see these curiosities, and, sure enough, while standing
on the bridge this morning, looking toward the bow, I saw three
objects rise out of the water and fly from us. One seemed as large
as a herring, the others were like humming-birds. They have much
larger wings than I had supposed, and shine brightly in the sun as
they fly. We have on board a gentleman connected with the Dutch
Government, who visits their out-of-the-way possessions in the
Malay Archipelago. He has been where a white man never was
before--in the interior of New Guinea--and has seen strange
things. He tells us that the birds of paradise take seven years to
develop. The first year male and female are alike, but year after
year the male acquires brighter feathers, until it becomes the
superb bird we know. Some one remarked that it is just the reverse
with the birds of paradise in man's creation. Here our Eve puts on
gayer plumage year after year until finally she develops into a
still more superb bird, while the male remains the same
sober-suited fowl he was at first; but this was from a bachelor,
I think.
We are in a new world, and the talk is all of people and islands and
animals we never heard of. Do you know, for instance, that such a
potentate as the Sultan of Terantor exists? and, ambitious ruler
that he is, that he now claims tribute from the whole of New Guinea?
Then, again, let me tell you that the Sultan of Burnei gets $6,000
per year tribute from Setwanak, and, like a grasping tyrant, demands
more; hence the wars which rage in that quarter of the globe. The
Setwanaks have appealed to the "God of Battles," and are no doubt
shouting on all hands that "Resistance to tyrants is obedience to
God;" and "Millions for defence; not a cent for tribute." Look out
for their forthcoming declaration of independence; and why shouldn't
they have their "_Whereases_" as well as your even Christian? The
only trouble is that when monarchs fight nothing is settled as a
rule; what one loses to-day, he tries to win back to-morrow, and so
the masses are kept in a state of perpetual war, or preparation for
war, equally expensive. If Herbert Spencer had never formulated
anything but the law underlying these sad contentions between man
and man, he would have deserved to rank as one of our greatest
benefactors. "When power is arbitrarily held by chief or king, the
military spirit is developed, and wars of conquest and dynasties
ensue; and just in proportion as power is obtained by the people,
the industrial type is developed and peace ensues." Therefore the
greatest thinker of the age is a republican. I quote from memory,
but the substance is there, and it is because this law is true that
there is hope for the future of the world, for everywhere the people
are marching to political power. England is yet the world's greatest
offender, because she is still ruled by the few, her boasted
representative system being only a sham. When the masses do really
govern, England will be pacific and make friends throughout the
world instead of enemies, "and sing the songs of peace to all her
neighbors."
The Dutch have 35,000,000 under their sway in Java and the other
Malay Islands; as many as Great Britain has within her borders.
The world gets most of its spices and its coffee from these
people. So the Dutch are not to be credited only with having taken
Holland, you see.
Another Chinaman is reported gone to-day: all have to be embalmed,
of course, and the doctor gets as his fee $12.50 for each corpse.
He complained to me the other day that these people would not take
his medicines, and, Scotchman--like, didn't see the point I
made--that they might naturally hesitate to swallow the potions of
one whose highest reward arose from a fatal result. The Heathen
Chinee is not a fool. The coffins of the dead on the wheel-house
begin to make quite a show; they are covered with canvas, but one
will sometimes see the pile. Not one of these men could ever have
been induced to leave his home without satisfactory assurance that
in case of death his remains would be carried back and carefully
buried in the spot where he first drew breath. I remember reading
in MacLeod's "Highland Parish" that so strongly implanted is this
sentiment in the Highlanders that even a wife who marries out of
her clan is brought home at her death and buried among her own
kith and kin. I confess to a strange sympathy with this feeling
myself. It seems to agree with the eternal fitness of things, that
where we first saw day we should rest after the race is run. Yes,
the old song is right:
"Wherever we wander in life's stormy ways
May our paths lead to home ere the close of our days,
And our evening of life in serenity close
In the Isle where the bones of our Fathers repose."
One of our company has kindly shown me "some things in waves"
which I have always passed over before. Hereafter they will have a
new interest and a new beauty for me. I now watch by the hour for
some rare effect and colors to which I was before stone-blind.
Some of the rarest jewels are rated by comparison with the emerald
and aqua-marine tints shown by the pure waves of the ocean.
Thanks, my fellow-traveller, for a new sense awakened.
The albatrosses, which follow us in large numbers, are a source of
pleasure. These are not the sacred birds of the Ancient Mariner,
but are of the same species. They excel all other birds, I think,
in power and gracefulness of flight. It is rather a glide than a
fly, as they appear scarcely ever to flap their wings, but sail on
as it were "by the sole act of their unlorded will." No wonder
such woe befell the Ancient Mariner through killing one. They are
too grand to destroy. Last evening I had a treat in seeing these
birds gathering for the night on the waters in the hollow of a
deep wave. A dozen were already in the nest as our ship swept
past, and others were coming every moment from all directions to
the fold; probably thirty birds would thus nestle together through
the long night in the middle of this waste of waters. I was glad
for their sakes, poor wanderers, that their lonely lives were
brightened at night by the companionship of their fellows.
Our second Sunday at sea. As I write, the bell tolls for church.
Our missionary will have a small congregation, for there are only
twenty-two passengers. I trust he will be moved to speak to us,
away in mid-ocean, of the great works of the Unknown, the mighty
deep, the universe, the stars, at which we nightly wonder, and not
drag us down to the level of dogmas we can know nothing of, and
about which we care less. The sermon is over. Pshaw! He spent the
morning attempting to prove to us that the wine Christ made at the
marriage feast was not fermented, as if it mattered, or as if this
could ever be known! and I was in the mood to preach such a
magnificent sermon myself, too, if I had had his place. No; I
shall never forgive him--never!
It is an even chance that this missionary will one day inflict
such frivolous stuff upon the heathen as part of the divine
message; for of the majesty, the sweetness, and the reforming
power of Christ's teaching and character, he seems to have not the
faintest conception. To the enquiry one constantly hears in the
East, why churches send forth as missionaries such inferior men as
they generally do, whose task is to eradicate error and plant
truth--there is this to be said: churches must take the best
material at their disposal, and men who have the ability to
influence their fellows through the pulpit find their best and
highest work at home. This leaves the incapables for foreign
service. The other class from which missionaries must be drawn are
the over-zealous, who have plenty of enthusiastic emotional
fervor, but combined in most cases with narrow, dogmatic
views--the very kind of men to irritate the people to whom they
are sent, and the least likely to win their hearts or reach their
understanding. There are notable exceptions, able men who still go
at duty's call; but such generally see that they can be ill spared
from more pressing home work.
* * * * *
MONDAY, November 4.
Our course is the southerly one, 5,120 miles to Yokohama, some
five hundred miles farther than that of the great circle; but for
the increased distance we have full compensation in the delightful
weather and calm seas we experience. The water is about 72°, the
air 73°, so that it is genial on deck. We are really in summer
weather--something so different from Atlantic sailing that I get
accustomed to it with difficulty. Last night at ten o'clock we
passed the half-way point ten days and eight hours out. The
captain showed us his chart to-day, and it was reassuring to see
that to-morrow we shall pass within 120 miles of land--the Midway
Islands. Upon one of this coral group the Pacific Mail Company has
deposited 3,000 tons of coal and a large amount of mess pork as a
reserve supply in case any steamer should be disabled. We passed
the Sandwich Islands, not more than 450 miles to the southward,
when one quarter of the way over, and the Bonin Islands occupy
about the same relative position in our course to the eastward, so
that the immense distance between San Francisco and Yokohama is
finely provided for in case of accident. You have but to sail
southward and find a port of refuge. Indeed, there is along this
entire parallel of latitude a new strip of land under process of
manufacture. A good chart shows islands dotting the South Pacific
Ocean, all of coral formation; these millions of toilers are hard
at work, and it is only a question of time when our posterity will
run by rail from the Sandwich to the Philippine Islands, always
provided that the work of these little builders is not interfered
with by forces which destroy. Thus the grand, never-ending work of
creation goes on, cycle upon cycle, revealing new wonders at every
turn and knowing no rest or pause.
Gone, November 5th, 1878, a _dies non_, which never was born.
Lost, strayed, or stolen--a rare diadem, composed of twenty-four
precious gems--some diamonds bright, some rubies rare, some jet as
black as night. It was to have been displayed at midnight to an
admiring few who nightly gaze upon the stars, but when looked for
it was nowhere to be found. A well-known party, familiarly known
as Old Sol, is thought to be concerned in the matter, but chiefly
is suspected a notorious thief who has stolen many precious
jewels--Old Father Time. Oh! many an hour has that thief stolen,
but this gobbling up of a whole day and night at one fell swoop
seems out of all reason. Yet he has done it! We have no 5th of
November. An amusing story is told of some clergymen returning to
America, in which case a day is gained, and it is necessary to
have two days of the same date instead of omitting one, as in our
case. The line was crossed on Sunday, and the captain, never
thinking, called out to the chief officer to make another Sunday
to-morrow. One of the clergymen was Scotch, and Presbyterian at
that. "Mak a Sawbath--mak the holy Sawbath; ma conscience!" The
order had been given, however, and two Sundays were observed; but
our scandalized friend could never be reconciled to the captain
who had presumed to have a holy Sabbath of his "ain making."
* * * * *
THURSDAY, November 7.
These nights were not made for sleep, nor these days either, for
that matter; but of all the nights I have ever seen I think this
one excels. The moon is overhead and at the full, casting her
mellow light around, suffusing with a soft glory the heavens
above, and lending to the dancing, foaming waves a silvery
shimmer. Jupiter is on the western horizon, fading out of sight,
but how lustrous! Lyra, Arcturus, Aldebaran, seem of gigantic
size. All sails are set, and a fair, balmy wind from the sweet
south makes the Belgic glide through the rushing waters. We are
only twenty miles from the Morrell Islands. How I long for a
deckful of my friends to exult with me in this delight! Nothing
but Byron's lines will do it justice. They are too long to quote
here, but here are a few lines, which I must repeat:
.... "for the night
Hath been to me a more familiar face
Than that of man; and in her starry shade
Of dim and solitary loveliness
I learned the language of another world."
One does feel in such moments, when beauty and sublimity are so
overpoweringly displayed, that there are worlds and life beyond
our ken, or should be such, for this short day on earth surely
should be but the foretaste of a sublime existence which such
moods indicate as our congenial home.
* * * * *
FRIDAY, November 8.
I know I went to bed some time early this morning, but after
reading last night's effusion in the cold, sober light of day, it
strikes me I must have been rather enthusiastic. However, as I
intend these notes to be an honest record of my feelings, I shall
not attempt to modify the outburst. I know I recited poetry all
the evening as I trod the deck, and therefore was in the mood for
anything. The captain told me to-night that in all his voyages at
this season he had never had one so fine as this. Of course he
hadn't. Just our luck, you see. He never had one who enjoyed a
trip more--that he is free to confess. I fairly revel in the sea,
and pity poor Vandy, who is never quite up to the mark on
shipboard. Some far-away ancestor, some good Scotch "deil ma
care," who took to smuggling instead of the more fashionable
occupation of cattle-stealing, for most of the carles
"Found the meat that made their broth
In England and in Scotland both,"
must have implanted in the Carnegies the instinct of the salmon
for the sea. I should have been a sailor bold, and sailed the
"sawt, sawt faeme," a pirate with a pirate's bride captured _vi
et armis_, and all the rest of it.
I am up late again to-night, but, fortunately, there wasn't a soul
on deck to hear me trying to sing
"Up, up with the flag; let it wave o'er the sea,
I'm afloat, I'm afloat, and the Rover is free!"
The officer on the bridge halloaed to me once, and asked if I
wanted any thing; but I forgave him. He could only hear my roaring
at his distance; had I been nearer, the melody would no doubt have
reached his ears, and he would have known I was singing a tune.
Still I thought it politic to affect not having heard him, and
quietly stepped down to bed. I shall avoid friend Ryan in the
morning, as it would be embarrassing to be asked, especially
before the young ladies, who or what I was howling at last night.
Some people have no tact, and he might be one of these and fail to
comprehend. With the exception of the officers, our crew, sailors,
stewards, and all, are Chinese, and in all and each of these
capacities they excel. They stand the heat of the furnaces better
than any other people, and as stewards are models.
* * * * *
SUNDAY, November 10.
Our third Sunday at sea. The past week has been unbroken sunshine,
moonlight, and smooth seas. So far not a ship has been seen. I
have read carefully eleven of Shakespeare's plays during the spare
hours of the voyage, and have enjoyed those most with which I was
least familiar, while some passages in even the best known I
wonder greatly at not having long ere this committed to memory, to
live there with the rest, and come at my call to minister to me.
They are such gems. I have them now, and feel as if I have made
new friends, whose angel visits will do me good in days and nights
to come. Byron affected to disparage the master, but I note two
other gems, beside many I knew of before, for which he stands
indebted. The idea in his celebrated lines in "Mazeppa"--
"Methought that mist of dawning gray
Would never dapple into day"--
is from _Two Gentlemen of Verona_, and the "Bright,
particular star" from _All's Well that Ends Well_. But of
course I do not intend any reflection upon Byron. Such was, and
is, the all-pervading, transcendent nature of Shakespeare's
genius; it was, and is, and shall be for ages yet to come, simply
impossible for any writer to avoid drawing from that fountain, for
every thing has its "environment," and Shakespeare is the
environment of all English-speaking men.
* * * * *
WEDNESDAY, November 13.
Four hundred and fifty miles from land! To-day we have had the
only taste of Neptune's power he has favored us with: it began to
blow at midnight, and today we have a grand sea. I have just come
from the deck after witnessing the Pacific in its fury, and no one
would believe that one ocean could differ as much from another as
this does from the Atlantic. The waves here move in immense
masses. It is an acre of water in motion, as one solid lump,
instead of a few feet square dashed into foam. One says
instinctively,
"What care these roarers for the name of king?"
I have noticed that even in the smallest waves cast aside by the
ship formations are different from those of other seas. It is
midnight, and we are only 125 miles from Japan. Not a passenger
except myself on deck, but I cannot sleep. Vandy would be with me,
I know, poor fellow, were he able to crawl, but the storm has
settled him for the present. How strange that none feel sufficient
interest to stay awake and watch with me! They would be amply
repaid. The phosphorescent sea shows forth its wonders now--not
alone in the myriads of small stars of light, which please you in
the Atlantic, but at every turn of the foam dashed from the bow
and sides of the ship masses of glittering phosphorescence as
large as my travelling cap. What creatures these must be which can
emit light in such clusters! I leave the deck with the cheery
"All's well!" ringing in my ears as the ship dances before the
wind which brings to a close our long flight across the Pacific.
How we have longed for this last night, and yet how often in after
life are we to sigh for a return to the glorious nights we have
lived at sea! Where we have
"Mingled with the universe to feel
What we can ne'er express,
Nor cannot all conceal."
Good-night, my band of dear, dear friends, now in the midst of
your daily toil--for it is yet day with you--racking your brains
that the holiday wanderer may revel as he is now doing. In the
earnest hope that the day may not be far distant when to you may
come similar enjoyment when he is the toiler, he goes at last to
bed.
* * * * *
FRIDAY, November 15.
Land ahoy! The islands of Japan are in sight, and the entrance to
the bay is reached at 4 P.M. The sail up this bay is never to be
forgotten. The sun set as we entered, and then came such a sky as
Italy cannot rival. I have seen it pictured as deluging Egypt with
its glory, but this we have yet to see. Fusiyama itself shone
forth under its rays, its very summit clear, more than 14,000 feet
above us. The clouds in large masses lay east and west of the
peak, but cowering far below, as if not one speck dared to rise to
its crown. It stood alone in solitary grandeur, by far the most
impressive mountain I have yet seen; for mountains, as a rule, are
disappointing, the height being generally attained by gradations.
It is only to Fusiyama, and such as it, that rise alone in one
unbroken pyramid, that one can apply Schiller's grand line,
"Ye are the things which tower,"
Fusiyama _towers_ beyond any crag or peak I know of; and I do
not wonder that in early days the Japanese made the home of their
gods upon its crest.
It was nine o'clock when the anchor dropped, and in a few minutes
after small boats crowded alongside to take us ashore. Until you
are rowed in a sampan in style, never flatter yourself you have
known the grotesque in the way of transportation. Fancy a large,
wide canoe, with a small cabin in the stern, the deck in front
lower than the sides, and on this four creatures, resembling
nothing on earth so much as the demons in the _Black Crook_,
minus most of the covering. They stand two on each side, but not
in a line, and each works a long oar scull-fashion, accompanying
each stroke with shouts such as we never heard before; the last
one steers as well as sculls with his oar, and thus we go
propelled by these yelling devils, who apparently work themselves
into a state of fearful excitement. We land finally, pass the
Custom House without examination, and with sea-legs which are far
from steady reach our hotel. A bite of supper--but what fearful
creatures again to bow and wait on us! More demons. We laugh every
minute at some funny performance, and wonder where we can be; but
how surprisingly good every thing is which we eat or drink on land
after twenty-two days at sea!
* * * * *
TUESDAY, November 19.
We have been three days in Japan, and all we can tell you is that
we are powerless to convey more than the faintest idea of that
which meets us at every turn. Had we to return to-morrow, we
should still feel that we had been fully compensated for our
journey. Though we have seen most of the strange and novel which
Europe has to show, a few hours' stroll in Yokohama or Tokio has
revealed to us more of the unexpected than all we ever saw
elsewhere. No country I have visited till now has proved as
strange as I had imagined it; the contrary obtains here. All is so
far beyond what I had pictured it that I am constantly regretting
so few of my friends will probably ever visit Japan to see and
enjoy for themselves. Let me try to describe a walk. We are at the
hotel door, having received the repeated bows, almost to the
ground, of numerous demons. A dozen big fellows rush up, each
between the shafts of his "ginrikshaw" like a cab-horse, and
invite us to enter, just as cabmen do elsewhere. But look at their
costume, or shall I rather say want of costume? No shoes, unless a
mat of straw secured with straw strings twisted around and between
the big toe and the next one may be called a shoe; legs and body
bare, except a narrow strip of rag around the loins; and such a
hat! it is either of some dark material, as big as the head of a
barrel (I do not exaggerate), to shelter them from sun and rain,
or a light straw flat of equal size. These are the Bettoes, who
will run and draw you eighteen miles in three hours and a quarter,
this being the distance and time by "ginrikshaw" to Tokio. We
decline their proffers and walk on. What is this? A man on stilts!
His shoes are composed of a flat wooden sole about a quarter of an
inch thick, on which the foot rests, elevated upon two similar
pieces of board, about four inches high, placed crosswise. about
three inches apart. On the edges of these cross-pieces he struts
along. A second has solid wooden pieces of equal height, a third
has flat straw shoes, a fourth has none. Look out behind! What is
this noise? "Hulda, hulda, hulda!" shouted in our ears. We look
around, and four coolies, as naked as Adam, one at each corner of
a four-wheel truck, pushing a load of iron and relieving
themselves at every step by those unearthly groans. Never have we
seen that indispensable commodity transported in that fashion
before. But look there! A fishmonger comes with a basket swinging
on each end of a bamboo pole carried over the shoulder--all single
loads are so carried--and yonder goes a water-carrier, carrying
his stoups in the same manner, while over his shoulders he has
flung a coat that would make the reputation of a clown in the
circus. The dress of the women is not so varied, but their painted
lips and whitened necks, and, in the case of the married women,
their blackened teeth, afford us much cause for staring, although
I cannot bear to look upon these hideous-looking wretches when
they smile; I have to turn my eyes away. How women can be induced
to make such disgusting frights of themselves I cannot conceive,
but Fashion--Fashion does anything. The appearance of the children
is comical in the extreme. They are so thickly padded with dress
upon dress as to give them the look of little fat Esquimaux. The
women invariably carry them on their backs, Indian fashion. Here
are two Japs meeting in the middle of the street. They bow three
times, each inclination lower and more profound than the preceding
one, infinite care being taken to drop the proper number of inches
befitting their respective ranks, and then shake their own hands
in token of their joy. We soon reach the region of the shops.
These are small booths, and squat on the floor sit four or five
men and women around a brazier, warming their hands while they
smoke. All the shops are of wood, but a small part is constructed
of mud, and is said to be fire-proof. In this the valuables are
instantly thrown when one of the very frequent fires occurs. The
floors are matted, and kept scrupulously clean. No one thinks of
entering without first taking his shoes off. The shop floors are
raised about eighteen inches above the street, and on the edges
purchasers sit sidewise and make their bargains. The entire street
is a pavement, as no horses are to be provided for. We visited the
tea factories at Yokohama. Japan has become of late years an
exporter of tea to America, no less than five thousand tons being
shipped last year. Tea when first gathered is tasteless, but after
being exposed to the sun it ferments like hay. It is then curled,
twisted, baked, and brought to the dealers, who again pick it over
carefully and roll it into the form in which it reaches us. We saw
many hundreds of women and girls in the establishment of Messrs.
Walsh, Hall & Co. rolling rapidly about with their hands a
quantity of the leaves in large round pots under which a small
charcoal fire was burning. And now, for the benefit of my lady
friends, let me explain that the difference between black and
green tea is simply this: the former is allowed to cure or ferment
in the sun about fifty minutes longer than the latter, and during
this extra fifty minutes certain elements pass off which are
thought to affect the nervous system; hence green tea has a
greater effect upon weak nerves than the black, but you see the
same leaf makes either kind, as the owner elects. But here comes
in a strange prejudice. Green tea of the natural color could not
be sold in the American market. No, we insist upon having a
"prettier green," and we are accommodated, of course. What can a
dealer do but meet the imperious demands of his patrons? The
required color is obtained by adulterating the pure tea with a
mixture of indigo and gypsum, which the most conscientious dealers
are compelled to do. But we saw used in one case Prussian blue,
which is poisonous--this, however, was not in Messrs. Walsh, Hall
& Co.'s--and I was told that ultramarine is sometimes resorted to.
These more pernicious substances produce even a "prettier green"
than the indigo and gypsum, and secure the preference of ignorant
people. Moral--Stick to black tea and escape poison. For all of
which information, and many kind attentions, I have to thank Mr.
Walsh, our banker.
One hears very often in Japan during the night a long, plaintive
kind of whistle, which, upon inquiry, I found proceeded from blind
men or women, called shampooers, who are employed to rub or pinch
those suffering from pain, and who cure restlessness by the same
means. It is a favorite cure of the Japanese, and some foreigners
tell us they have employed it with success. I suppose, this
climate being productive of rheumatism and kindred pains, the
people are prone to fly to anything that secures temporary relief;
but it is a new idea, this, of being pinched to sleep.
We live well at the hotels here. Japan abounds in fish and game in
great variety. Woodcock, snipe, hares, and venison are cheap, and
all of excellent quality. The beef and mutton are also good, as
are the vegetables. Turnips, radishes and carrots are enormous,
owing, I suppose to the depth and fineness of the soil. Vandy
measured some of each, and reports: "Radishes, eighteen inches,
and beautifully white; carrots, twenty inches, and splendid."
* * * * *
WEDNESDAY, November 20.
We started this morning from Yokohama for Tokio, the great city of
the Empire, which contains 1,030,000 inhabitants, according to a
census taken last year. Until within a few years past Japan had
two rulers--the Mikado, or spiritual, and the Tycoon, or secular
ruler, although, strictly speaking, the former was theoretically
the supreme ruler, the latter obtaining his power through marriage
with the family of the former. The seat of the Mikado was at
Kioto, a fine city near the centre of the island, while the Tycoon
resided at Tokio, or Yeddo, as it was then called. The Mikado was
invisible, being the veritable veiled prophet, none but a
privileged few being ever permitted to gaze upon his divine
person. A few years ago it was decided to combine the two powers,
and make Yeddo the only capital. The Mikado was carried to Yeddo
closely veiled, in triumphal procession, and the vast crowds,
assembled at every point to see the cavalcade, prostrated
themselves, and remained with eyes bent upon the ground as the
sacred car approached. An eye-witness describing the entry into
Tokio says that few dared to look up as the Presence passed.
Lately, the same Mikado has made a royal progress through the
country, meeting the principal men in each district, and
travelling in view of the entire population, so rapidly have
manners changed in Japan. When the Mikado was elevated to supreme
power, the feudal system, which had existed up to that time, was
abolished, and we now see no more of the Samuri, or two-sworded
men, or of the Daimios, the petty princes who formerly promenaded
the streets in gorgeous dresses, accompanied by their military
retainers. The soldiers, sailors, policemen, and all the official
classes are dressed in European style. It is the reigning fashion
to be European, and even furniture after our patterns is coming
into use. It is the same with food. The hotel where we are
rejoices in a French cook, expressly imported, and every night we
have parties of wealthy Japanese dining at this Tokio Delmonico's.
Last night we had a party of the most celebrated actors enjoying a
dinner to commemorate the successful completion of a new piece
which had enjoyed a great run. I amused myself trying to select
the Montagu, Gilbert, Becket, and Booth of the party, and
succeeded well, as I afterward heard. Actors are held in
estimation in Tokio, and these attracted great attention as they
dined. Matters are much as with us, I fancy. Our interpreter, in
his broken English, told us in regard to the two young lovers,
"Very high thought by much high ladies--oh, very high!" I do not
think European dress improves the appearance of the Japanese
gentlemen; they are very short, and--I regret to report
it--generally quite crooked in the legs, and their own flowing
costumes render them dignified and graceful. Indeed, after a
residence in the East for a while one agrees with the opinion he
hears often expressed there that our costume is the most
unpicturesque dress in the world.
We were fortunate in having as shipmates Captain Totaki, of the
navy, and a young lady, Mlle. Rio, who had been in America several
years, and had acquired an English education. They were
excessively kind to us during our entire stay, and much of the
pleasure derived is due to them. The captain gave us one evening
an entertainment at a fashionable tea-house, and introduced us to
the celebrated singing and dancing girls of Japan, of whom all
have heard. We were shown into a large room, the floor of which
was covered with bamboo matting laid upon some soft substance. Of
course our shoes were laid aside at the door of the house. There
were neither chairs nor furniture of any kind, but subsequently
chairs were found for us. The salutations on the part of the
numerous women servants were most profound, each prostrating
herself to the floor, and touching the mat with her forehead every
time she entered or left the apartment. Velvet mats were carried
into the room by a servant and placed around a brazier of
charcoal. In a few minutes servant after servant entered,
prostrating herself to the ground, and placing before us some
Japanese delicacy. One served soup in small lacquer bowls, another
fish, a third cakes, a fourth tea in very tiny cups, and others
various things, and finally saki, the wine of the country, was
produced, served in small cups like the tea. Then came the girls.
Seven approached, each carrying a musical instrument of queer
construction. They bowed profoundly, but I noticed did not touch
the mat with their foreheads, their rank being much superior to
that of the servants, and began to play and sing.
No entertainment is complete without a troop of these Gahazi
girls, and such entertainments form about the only social
amusement of the Japanese. And now for the music. Please
understand that the Japanese scale is not like ours, and nothing
like melody to our ears can be produced by it. They have a full
tone between each first and second note, and a semitone between
each third and fourth, and yet the same feelings are awakened in
them by their music as in us by ours, so that harmony itself is
simply a matter of education after all, and the glorious Fifth
Symphony itself, "Lohengrin," or "Scots wha hae," played or sung
as I have heard them, would convey no more meaning to these people
than so much rattling of cross-bones; but imagine the Fifth
Symphony on any scale but ours! I cannot reconcile myself to the
idea that we have not the only scale for such a theme; but one has
to learn that there are different ways for every thing, and no one
who knows much will assume that he has the best. Owing to the
change of the scale, I suppose I missed the sentiment of every
piece performed. When I thought they were giving us a wail for the
dead it turned out to be a warm welcome, and an assurance on the
part of those pretty maidens of their happiness in being permitted
the great honor of performing before such illustrious visitors.
Our companion, Mile. Rio, took one of the instruments and played
and sang a piece for us, but I was not more fortunate in my guess
with her. It was a wedding chorus, which I was willing to wager
was the Japanese "Miserere"; but this error may have its
significance after all. To us, in short, the music was execrable.
A falsetto, and a grinding, singsong falsetto at that--the most
disagreeable sound I ever heard in music--is very common, and
highly esteemed. The instruments resemble banjos, and there is a
harsh kind of drum accompaniment; but there is one larger string
instrument, the Japanese piano, upon which much older women play,
the younger girls not being sufficiently skilled to perform upon
it.
After a few songs had been sung, several of the girls laid down
their banjos, and after obeisance prepared to dance. Instead of
being a sprightly performance to, lively music, "first ae caper
syne anither," Japanese dancing is a very stately and measured
performance, the body instead of the feet being most brought into
requisition. With the aid of the indispensable fan the girls
succeed in depicting many different emotions, and all with
exquisite grace. It is the very poetry of motion. Each dance
illustrates a story, and is as well known by name as is the
"Highland Fling" or the "Sailor's Hornpipe." Here there was no
difficulty in following the story. Unlike music, acting is a
universal language, and in its domain "one touch of nature makes
the whole world kin." There are no different scales for the
expression of feeling. Love, in some of its manifold forms, as was
to have been expected, is the theme of most of these dances. I
redeemed my reputation here as a guesser, I think. I could give a
very fair report to Mlle. Rio of most that took place in the
dances, and we enjoyed this portion of the entertainment highly.
To a Japanese, how stupid our people must appear whirling round a
room until fatigued or dizzy, all for the fun of the thing!
The dresses of the girls were of the richest and most fashionable
description, the quietness of the colors surprising us, and their
manners those of high-born women. Indeed, they set the fashions,
and are the best educated and most accomplished of their sex.
These girls are sent for to furnish entertainment for an evening
just as we would engage a band for a party. They are said to be
highly respectable as a class, invariably reside with their
parents, who educate them at great expense, and often make, we
were told, very favorable marriages. The contrast between them and
their less accomplished sisters is so great as to strike even us,
who have been here only a few days, and must be held ignorant of
style.
The most wonderful sights of Tokio are the temples and the famous
tombs of the Tycoons. There is much similarity in the latter, but
that of the sixth Tycoon, at Shibba, is by far the most
magnificent. It has been rendered familiar by photographs and
engravings, and at any rate no description would convey a just
idea of it. It is gorgeous in color, and the extreme delicacy of
the gold is surprising; upon it, too, are found the finest known
specimens of the old lacquer. But these tombs totally failed to
impress me with any feeling akin to reverence; indeed, nothing in
Japan seems calculated to do so--the odor of the toyshop pervades
everything, even their temples. As for their religious belief, it
is hard to tell what it is, or whether they have any. One thing is
sure, the educated classes have discarded the faith of the
multitude, if they ever really entertained it, and no longer
worship the gods of old. The ignorant classes, however, are seen
pouring into the temples with their modest offerings, and asking
for prayers in their behalf. It is in Japan as it was in
Greece--one religion for the masses, and another, or rather none
in the ordinary sense, for the educated few.
As in Catholic countries, some shrines are esteemed more than
others. The Temple of the Foxes is the most popular in the Empire.
It is adorned with statues of Master Reynard in various postures.
His votaries are numerous, for the sagacity of the fox has passed
into a proverb, and these people hope by prayers and gifts to move
the fox-god to bestow upon them the shrewdness of the symbol. The
fox may be justly rated as the most successful preacher in Japan:
he draws better than any other, and his congregation is the
largest; but he has a rival not without pretensions in the
favorite goddess "Emma." We found her to be a large, very fat
woman, sitting in Japanese style, and surrounded by images of
children. Babies cluster like cherubs around the principal figure,
while an attendant sells for a cent apiece ugly painted ones made
out of clay, many of which have been placed by worshippers before
the goddess. As we approached, a young woman--married, for her
teeth were black, and respectably but not richly dressed--was on
her knees before the goddess so earnestly engaged in prayer that
she appeared wholly unconscious of our presence. There was no
mistaking that this was sincere devotion--a lifting up of the soul
to some power considered higher than itself. I became most anxious
to know what sorrow could so move her, and our interpreter
afterward told us that she asked but one gift from the goddess. It
was the prayer of old that a man-child should be born to her; and,
poor woman! when one knows what her life must be in this country
should this prayer remain unanswered, it saddens one to think of
it. A living death; another installed in her place; all that woman
holds dear trembling in the balance. How I pitied her! I also saw
men praying before other idols and working themselves into a state
of frenzy. Indeed I saw so much in the temples to make me unhappy
that I wished I had never visited any of them. It gives one such
desponding hopes of our race, of its present and of its future,
when so many are so bound down to the lowest form of superstition.
At one of the principal Shinto temples I saw the sacred dance with
which that great god is propitiated. In a booth two stories high,
in front of the temple, was a small stage upon which sat three old
priests. One beat a drum, the second played a flute, while the
third fingered a guitar. To this music a very pretty young
daughter of a priest, gorgeously arrayed in sacred robes, postured
with a fan, keeping time to the music. This was all. But, like the
tom-tom beating of the Buddhist which we heard at the same moment
from an opposite temple, the dance is thought to dispose the gods
to receive favorably the gifts and prayers of the devotees. We saw
at the same temple a large wooden figure which is reputed able to
cure all manner of diseases. So much and so hard had this figure
been rubbed by the poor sufferers that the nose is no longer
there; the face is literally rubbed smooth. The ears are gone, and
it is only a question of time when all traces of human form will
have vanished. It reminded us of the toe of St. Peter, in the
cathedral at Rome, which has been worn smooth by the osculations
of devout Christians.
Japan is rapidly adopting the manners and customs of European
civilization. There is at present a cry for representative
government, and one need not be surprised to hear by and by of the
Parliament of Japan. War-ships are building at the arsenal, which
are not only constructed but designed by native genius. A standing
army of about 50,000 men is maintained. Gas has been introduced in
some places, and railroads and telegraphs are in operation; and,
not to be behind their neighbors, a public debt and irredeemable
currency (based upon the property of the nation, of course,) have
been created. The currency is now at 22 per cent. discount as
compared with gold, and further depreciation is apprehended. (It
has since reached 50 per cent. discount.) It is modelled on our
American paper money, and is actually printed in New York. Let us
hope that Japan may soon be able to follow the Republic farther by
making it convertible--as good as gold. Notwithstanding its wide
"base"--in short, our greenbackers' "base"--it doesn't seem to
work here any better than at home.
Art in Japan is utilitarian; in no other country are articles of
common use so artistic. The furniture of a Japanese house is
scanty. We see no walls hung with pictures with showy gilt frames,
no portieres or curtains, none of the sofas, chairs, tables,
brackets, chandeliers, etc., which give our rooms so crowded an
appearance. The bareness of the rooms strikes one at once upon
entering, but when one examines the utensils in daily use even by
the poorer classes he sees that they are of uncommon beauty.
Surely this is of more moment than to have art confined to the
few, both as to articles and to persons. In Japan, art may be said
to be democratic; all classes are brought under its sway.
One thing must be said, however, about art throughout the East, in
China and in India as well as in Japan: up to this time it has
been content to remain solely decorative. The higher creative and
imaginative power has yet to be reached. Why this should be so is
an interesting question, and I resolve to read up the authorities
when opportunity offers and see how they account for it. May not
the poverty of the East have much to do with it? So very few are
rich; indeed, scarcely any are opulent in our sense, six thousand
dollars (£1,200) a year being considered a fortune in Japan, I am
told, and very few, even of the higher classes, possess as much.
In China and India it is much the same, a few rajahs in the latter
country excepted.
The start which religion gave to art in Europe is wanting in the
East, for the temples are mean and destitute of costly works. Rich
commercial and manufacturing classes do not exist in the East--as
wealth does not run into "pockets" as it does in Europe--especially
in England--and in America. I fear, therefore, that art in the East
will not advance much beyond the decorative stage for centuries
to come.
* * * * *
SATURDAY, November 23.
Vandy and I walked to-day through the principal street of Tokio
from end to end, a distance of three miles. It is a fine, broad
avenue, crowded with people and vehicles drawn or pushed by men.
There is also a line of small one-horse wagons running as
omnibuses on the street--novel feature, unknown anywhere else in
the Empire. Our appearance attracted such crowds whenever we
stopped at a shop, that the police had to drive the gazers away.
The city is built upon a plain, and supplied with water by wells
only. Fires are of frequent occurrence. Japanese cities are such
piles of combustible material that I wonder they exist at all. But
fires are little used--only a brazier of charcoal now and then for
cooking purposes; and as most of the people eat at cook-shops,
there is never any fire at all in many of the houses. Long ladders
are erected as fire-towers, and upon these watchmen sit through
the night to give the alarm. It is only by tearing down or blowing
up surrounding houses that the progress of a fire can generally be
stayed. There is no such thing as insurance in Japan, the risks
being much too great.
The Japanese go to the theatre early in the morning and remain
until five o'clock in the evening. Doors open at five A.M., but
the rich classes do not appear before six or seven o'clock, at
which hour the performance begins. Breakfast is served in the
theatre about noon. The audience smoke, eat, sip tea, and enjoy
themselves as they choose. No seats are provided, but a small mat
is put down for each person as he enters, and beside it a box
filled with sand, in the middle of which are two pieces of glowing
charcoal, at which pipes are lighted. Ladies, as well as
gentlemen, be it remembered, invariably smoke in Japan. Every one
carries a small pipe with a long stem, and a tobacco-pouch
attached to it. At short intervals a little tobacco is put into
the pipe--just enough to give two whirls of smoke--after which the
tobacco is knocked out and the pipe again replenished. In no case
have I ever seen more than two very small whiffs taken at one
time. Even young ladies smoke in this manner, and to one who
detests tobacco, as I instinctively do, it may be imagined this
habit did not add to their attractiveness. A sweetheart who
defiled her lips with tobacco! "Phew!" Neither is it considered
disrespectful in any degree to begin smoking in the presence of
others. Deferential as the singing girls were, when at leisure
they lighted their pipes as a matter of course, wholly unconscious
that they were taking a liberty.
The marriage ceremony differs greatly from ours. The priests have
nothing to do with it, nor is there any religious ceremony. The
parents of a young man select a proper wife for him when he is
about twenty years of age, and manage the whole affair. They
consult the young lady's parents, and if the match is a
satisfactory one to them, writings are exchanged between the
parents of the young couple, the day is appointed, and the bride
and groom drink saki from the same cup; feasting and rejoicings
follow, sometimes continued for several days if the parents are
wealthy, and the marriage is consummated. In all cases the bride
goes to reside with the husband's parents, to whom, much more than
to the husband, it is necessary she should continue to be
satisfactory. Very often three generations live together, and an
amount of deference is paid to the oldest such as we have no
conception of.
The custom of blacking the teeth by married women, is the most
revolting practice I have yet seen. I have been in the houses of
fine people of Japan, and seen women, otherwise good-looking, who
had only to open their lips to convert themselves into objects of
disgust. I rejoice, therefore, to hear that fashion is setting in
against this abomination, and that some of the more recent brides
have refused to conform to the custom.
One readily gets used to anything, earthquakes included, and Japan
has many of these unruly visitors. One night we had three shocks
at Tokio, one sufficiently strong to wake me from sleep. My bed
shook violently, and the house threatened to fall upon us. The
same night we had a large fire in the city, and a hundred shrill,
tinkling bells, like so many cows in the woods, were rung to give
the alarm. The clapping of the night watchmen about our street
assured me, however, that it was all right with us, and I lay
still. The night watchmen here use two small square pieces of hard
wood which they strike frequently against each other as they go
the rounds as their "All's well" signal; but I think strangers, as
a rule, fail to appreciate the point in being awakened every now
and then simply to be assured that there is not the slightest
occasion for their being awake at all.
* * * * *
MONDAY, November 25.
To-day we took a small steamer and visited the arsenal upon the
invitation of our friend Captain Totaki, Mlle. Rio being of the
party. It is finely situated on the bay about fifteen miles below
Yokohama, and is quite extensive, having good shops filled with
modern tools. Several ships have already been built here, and two
men-of-war are now upon the stocks--another evidence of so-called
civilization. Japan, you see, is ambitious. All the officials,
foremen, and mechanics, are natives, and these have proved their
ability in every department. The wages paid surprise us. All
branches are about upon an equality. Painters, moulders,
blacksmiths, carpenters, machinists, all get the same
compensation--from 25 to 40 cents per day, according to their
respective value as workmen; common labor, outside, 18 cents; shop
labor, inside, 25 cents; foreman of department, $80 per month. Work,
nine hours per day, every tenth day being a day of rest
corresponding to our Sunday. In addition to the two men-of-war under
construction, the machinery for which is all designed and
manufactured here, the Emperor is having built for his private use a
large side-wheel yacht, which promises to be magnificent. However
poor a nation may be, or however depreciated its currency, if it set
up an emperor, king, or queen, improper personal expenditure
inevitably follows. Even as good a woman as Queen Victoria, probably
the most respectable woman who ever occupied a throne--such a
character as one would not hesitate to introduce to his family
circle, which is saying much for a monarch--will squander thirty
thousand pounds per annum of the people's money on a private yacht
which she has used but a few times, and which is one of three she
insists upon keeping at the State's expense. It is the old story:
make any human being believe he is _born_ to position and he becomes
arbitrary and inconsiderate of those who have exalted him. Serves
the foolish ones right, I suppose is the proper verdict. But one is
not indignant at the worship of their emperor by the Japanese: he is
a real ruler, has power, and stands firmly upon divine right. The
Japanese are yet children politically; but the English should be out
of their swaddling-clothes, surely.
The captain being high in command, and this being his first visit
to the arsenal since his return from a tour round the world, he
was received by the officials with manifestations of delight. We
had another opportunity of seeing the bowing practice in its
fullest development. The various foremen as they approached bowed
three times almost to the ground, and in some cases they went
first upon their knees and struck the floor three times with their
foreheads. We were afterward informed that only a few years ago
these would have added to the obeisance by extending the arms to
their full length and placing the palms of the hands flat upon the
ground; now this is omitted, and I have no doubt, as intelligence
spreads, less and less of this deference will be exacted. But up
to this date it may safely be said Japan is in the condition of
Sir Pertinax MacSycophant, who, it will be remembered, admitted
that his success came from "booing." He "never could stand strecht
in the presence of a great man;" no more can a Japanese.
My writing has just been interrupted by another earthquake shock.
My chair began to tremble, then the house; I could not write, and
looking up I saw Vandy standing in amazement. For a few moments it
seemed as if we were rocking to pieces, and that the end of all
things had come. I shall never forget the sensation. The motion of
a ship rolling at sea transferred to land, where you have the
solid earth and heavy stone walls surrounding and threatening to
fall upon you, is far from agreeable; but it passed away, and old
Mother Earth became steady once more.
The way to buy in Japan is not by visiting the shops, for there
nothing is displayed, and a stranger has infinite difficulty in
learning where certain articles are to be found; but just intimate
to your "boy" what you wish, and at your door in a few minutes
stand not one or two merchants, but five or six, all bowing as you
pass in or out, and awaiting master's pleasure to examine their
wares. They leave any articles you may wish to decide upon, and
the result is that one's rooms become perfect bazaars. The most
unpleasant feature connected with purchasing is that everything is
a matter of bargain. A price is named, and you are expected to
make an offer. Vandy is a great success at this game, and seems to
enjoy it. I am strictly prohibited from interfering, and so escape
all trouble. It is always comforting to know that one's interests
are in much abler hands than his own, and I always have this
pleasure when Vandy is about.
Wherever we go, Fusiyama looks down upon us. What a beautiful cone
it is, and how grandly it pierces the heavens, its summit clad
with perpetual snow! No wonder that the Japanese represent it on
so many of their articles. Thousands of pilgrims flock to it
annually from all parts of the Empire, for it is their sacred
mount and the gods reward such as worship at this shrine. It was
once an active volcano; but there has been no eruption since about
1700, when ashes were thrown from it into Yeddo, sixty miles away.
The crater is nearly five hundred feet deep. Fusiyama stands alone
among mountains, a vast pyramid rising as Cheops does from the
plain, no "rascally comparative" near to dispute its sway.
* * * * *
WEDNESDAY, November 27.
We sail to-day for Shanghai, leaving Yokohama with sincere regret;
nor shall we soon forget the good, kind faces of those who have done
so much to make our visit to Japan an agreeable one. Had it been
possible to remain until Saturday I should have been greatly tempted
to do so to accept an invitation received to respond to a toast at
St. Andrew's banquet. It would surely have stirred me to hold forth
on Scotland's glory to my fellow-countrymen in Japan; but this had
to be foregone. At Kiobe the steamer lay for twenty-four hours, and
this enabled us to run up by rail to Kioto, the former residence of
the Mikado, reputed to be the Paris of Japan. The city itself
deserves this reputation about as well as Cincinnati does that of
our American Paris, which I see some one has called it. Kioto is
only a mass of poor one-story buildings, but its situation is
beautiful, and cannot probably be equalled elsewhere in the Empire,
and this one can justly say of Cincinnati as well, while the beauty
of Paris is of the city and not at all rural. There are more pretty
toy villas embowered in trees upon the little hills about Kioto than
we saw in all other parts of Japan. The temples at Kioto are much
inferior to those at Shibba. Our journey enabled us to see about
seventy miles of the interior, and we were again impressed by the
evidences on every hand of a teeming population. Gangs of men and
women were everywhere at work upon small patches of ground, six or
seven persons being busily engaged sometimes on less than one acre.
It is not farming; there is in Japan scarcely such a thing as
farming in our sense; it is a system of gardening such as we see in
the neighborhood of large cities. Compared with that prevalent
throughout the whole country, I have seen nothing equal to it in
thoroughness, not even in Belgium.
We are upon the old steamer Costa Rica, now belonging to the
Japanese Company, which recently purchased this and other boats from
the Pacific Mail Company. Among our cargo is a large lot of live
turkeys which some pushing Jap is taking over to Shanghai for
Christmas; and listen, you favored souls who revel in the famous
bird at a dollar a head, your fellow countrymen in China have to pay
ten dollars for their Christmas turkey. It is said the Chinese
climate is too damp for the noble bird; but it flourishes in Japan.
I wish the exporter who thus develops the resources of his country
much profit on his venture. But it strikes me that, instead of the
eagle, the more useful gobbler has superior claims to be voted the
national bird of America. "A turkey for a dollar!" repeated the
shipper as I told him our price; "a turkey for a dollar--what a
country!" The climate of Northern China is not favorable for
Europeans, and many take a run over to Japan to recuperate, a fact
which argues much for the future of Japan. Although our ship belongs
to the Japanese, the servants are generally Chinamen, and the agent
explains this by informing us that while the former do very well
until they arrive at the age of manhood, they then begin to develop
more ambitious ideas and cannot be managed, while with the Chinese a
"boy" (a servant throughout the East is called "boy") is always a
boy, and is constantly on the watch to serve his master. Again, the
Japs are pugnacious, a race of little game-cocks, always in for a
fight, especially with a Chinaman. The captain told us the other day
a great big Chinaman had complained to him that one of the Japs had
abused him. Upon calling up the belligerent, he proved to be such a
small specimen that the captain asked the sufferer why he hadn't
picked him up and thrown him overboard. The complaint was dismissed:
served the big fellow right. But some missionary should expound the
civilized doctrine to him, per revised edition, which reads: "When
smitten on the one cheek, turn to the smiter the other also, but if
he smites you on that, _go for him_." To-morrow is to be one of the
great days of our trip, for we shall enter the famous inland sea of
Japan at daybreak. Will it be fine to-morrow? is the question with
all on board. The signs are earnestly discussed. The sun sets
favorably, and I quote Shakespeare to them, which settles the
question:
"The weary sun hath made a golden set,
And by the bright track of his fiery car
Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow."
Let to-morrow be fair, whatever we may miss hereafter. This is the
universal sentiment.
* * * * *
SATURDAY, November 30.
What a day this has been! Many a rich experience which seemed
grand enough never to fade from the memory may pass into oblivion,
but no mortal can ever sail through the inland sea of Japan on a
fine day and cease to remember it till the day he dies. It
deserves its reputation as the most beautiful voyage in the world;
at least I cannot conceive how, taking the elements of earth,
water and sky, anything more exquisitely beautiful could be
produced from them. Entering the narrow sea at sunrise, we sail
for three hundred and fifty miles through three thousand pretty
islands,
"Which seem to stand
To sentinel enchanted land."
These divide the water, making, not one but a dozen pretty lakes in
view at once. It is the Lakes of Killarney, or the English or Scotch
lakes, multiplied a hundred-fold; but instead of the islands and
mountains being in pasture, they are cultivated to their very tops,
terraced in every form, in order to utilize every rod of ground. On
the shores cluster villages, nestling in sheltered nooks, while the
water swarms with the sails of tiny fishing boats, giving a sense of
warm, happy life throughout. These sail-boats add greatly to the
beauty of the scene. I counted at one time from the bow of our
steamer, without looking back, ninety-seven sails glistening in the
sun, while on the hills were seen everywhere gangs of people at work
upon their little farm-gardens. It is a panorama of busy, crowded
life, but life under most beautiful surroundings, from beginning to
end, and we all vote that never before have we, in a like space of
time, seen so much of fairy-land as upon this ever-memorable day. We
begin to understand how the thirty odd millions of the Japanese
exist upon so small an area. The rivers and seas abound in fish; the
hills and valleys under irrigation and constant labor grow their
rice, millet, and vegetables. A few dollars per year supply all the
clothing needed, and a few dollars build their light wooden houses.
Thus they have everything they need, or consider necessary, and are
happy as the day is long, certain of one established fact in nature,
to wit, that there is no place like Japan; and no doubt they daily
and hourly thank their stars that their lines have fallen in
pleasant places, and pity us--slaves to imaginary wants--who deny
ourselves the present happiness they consider it wisdom to enjoy, in
vain hopes of banquetting to surfeit at some future time, which
always comes too late.
On emerging from this fairy scene, we encountered a gale upon the
China Sea, which lasted for the few hours we were upon it before
reaching Nagasaki, the last port of Japan. Here, two hundred years
ago, the Dutch secured a small island, from which they traded with
Japan long before any other nation was permitted to do so. The
Catholics also had their headquarters here. They were so
successful in converting the natives that the government became
alarmed, and several thousand Christians were driven to the island
and all massacred. This was in the sixteenth century; but it is
only a few years ago that seven thousand native Catholics were
banished from this region. To-day all is changed. These fugitives
have been permitted to return, and there is entire freedom of
religious worship. Last month a return was made of professing
Christians (Catholics) in this district, and thirty-five thousand
were reported. Protestants are very few indeed.
As far as I saw in the East, here is the only real and
considerable advance made toward christianizing a people. At other
stations throughout my journey I saw only a few ignorant natives
who professed Christianity--sometimes a dozen or two, rarely
more. European residents invariably told me that these were the
dependants or servants of foreigners who held their places mainly
because of their conversion to the new faith. If dismissed, they
relapsed. One can readily see that the lowest and most
unscrupulous would be the first to fall before the almost
irresistible temptation, for a means of comfortable livelihood
seems the one serious concern of life in all the East to a degree
difficult for us in America, at least, to imagine.
I remember the dear, kind Catholic Bishop of Canton telling me
with such delicious simplicity that every workman engaged in
building the Cathedral--a work of many years and yet
unfinished--had by the grace of God been converted to Holy Mother
Church. The hotel-keeper told me afterward this so-called
conversion was a source of much amusement among the natives. Well,
be it so. I believe, myself, that the holy father is the victim of
misplaced confidence. But here in Nagasaki nothing like this can
be said. Thirty-five thousand professing Christians in a district
where there are not a hundred foreign Christian families, if half
so many, and where to be a Christian is to declare one's self of
the minority and so out of fashion, surely this does prove that
the Church has succeeded, and justifies it in hoping that ere long
this part of Japan at least will one day enter the fold.
One great reason for this undoubted success is probably that
neither the Government nor the people have the slightest objection
to missionaries, for their own religion sets but lightly on the
Japanese. With the Chinaman it is totally different. His own
religion is sacred to him, a vital force, and his gods must not be
defamed. He stands by his faith like a Covenanter. It touches the
most sacred feelings of his nature, and is everything to him. Mrs.
D. O. Hill's celebrated statue of Livingstone in Prince's Gardens,
Edinburgh, therefore, represents too truly the attitude of our
missionaries in the flowery land as well as in other so-called
heathen lands: the Bible in one hand and the pistol in the other.
In Japan the pistol is wholly unnecessary. The man of Japan
regards missionaries as harmless curiosities, and if not disposed
to trouble himself about their new ideas, he has not the least
objection to their being expounded.
There is now no established religion in Japan, Buddhism having
been abolished in 1874. The temples and priesthood are maintained
by voluntary contributions. The poor laws are simple: government
gives nine bushels of rice to every person over seventy or under
fifteen years of age, who cannot work, and the same to foundlings
under thirteen. Out of the total population of thirty-six
millions, there are only ten thousand and fifty paupers, and of
these more than a thousand are at Tokio in the workhouse.
* * * * *
HARBOR OF NAGASAKI, MONDAY, December 2.
Vandy and I were off early this morning for the shore, and did not
return to the ship until late in the afternoon, having walked over
the high hills and down into the valleys beyond. We had a real
tramp in the country. It is here just as elsewhere, terrace upon
terrace, every foot of ground under cultivation; water carried by
men in pails, or on the backs of oxen, to the highest peaks, which
it is impossible to irrigate, and every single plant, be it rice,
millet, turnip, cabbage, or carrot, watered daily. What good
Mother Earth can be induced to yield under such attention is a
marvel. The bountiful earth has another meaning when you see what
she can be made to bring forth. Although we are in December, the
sun shines bright, and it is quite warm. I sat down several times
under the hedge-rows, and heard the constant hum of insect life
around me. Butterflies flitted about, the bees gathered honey, and
all looked and felt like a day in June. The houses of the people
which we saw were poor, and the total absence of glass causes them
to look like deserted hovels; but closer inspection showed fine
mats on the floors, and everything scrupulously clean. I counted
upon one hillside forty-seven terraces from the bottom to the top.
These are divided vertically, so that I think twenty-five feet
square would be about the average size of each patch; and as the
division of terraces is made to suit the ground, and hence very
irregularly, the appearance of a hillside in Japan is something
like that of a bed-quilt of irregular pieces. The terrace-walls
are overgrown with vines, ferns, etc., so that they appear like
low green hedges: and this adds much to the beauty of the
landscape. No wonder the cultivators of these lovely spots never
dream of leaving them. Animal food is not half as important to the
Japanese as the supply of fish--indeed the former is said to be
comparatively little used, while fish of some kind or in some form
is ever present at meals. The favorite fish is the _tai_,
which is red when taken from streams with sandy bottoms, but black
when caught at the mouths of the same streams, where the dark soil
of the sea begins. A curious parallel case is seen in the black
and red pines of this country: in sandy soils they grow red, while
in the softer black soil they are dark. Transplant the two
varieties and they change color. The same law, you see, with fish
and plant. We are all creatures of our environment. Therefore let
us choose our companions and surroundings well. To know the best
that has been said and done in the world is no doubt much; to be
planted and to grow among those who have done the greatest work
and who live up to the best standard in our day and generation is
surely equally important.
We had an alarm of fire oft the Belgic in mid-ocean, but this
morning we had the real article. I had just parted from the
captain at the stern of the ship, intending to go ashore, when,
walking forward, I saw dense volumes of smoke issuing from the
walking-beam pit, and in a few moments I heard the cry of fire
from below. All was in a bustle at once, but the crew got finely
to work. Fortunately, although there was no steam in the main
boilers, the small donkey boiler was full, and the pumps were put
to work. Meanwhile boats from the various men-of-war in the harbor
with hand fire-engines came to our assistance. The steamer is an
old wooden craft, and I knew her cargo was combustible. Were the
smoke ever to give place to flame, panic was sure to ensue, and
not one of the small native boats that had until now been
clustering around us could then be induced to approach; indeed,
they had already all rowed off. There was one lady on board, Mrs.
McK., a veritable Princess of Thule from the Island of Lewes, and
I decided that she had better be taken off with her sick child at
once; so, bribing a greedy native by the immense reward of a whole
dollar (a large fee here, small as it seems at home) to come
alongside, I grasped the baby and followed the mother down the
gangway, and remained at a safe distance until the danger was
over. A few minutes more, and the Costa Rica would have followed
her sister ship, the America, which some years ago took fire under
similar circumstances in the harbor of Yokohama, and was
completely destroyed. Fortunately we are about done with wooden
steamships; otherwise they should not be permitted to run as
passenger vessels.
The post-office department of Japan is of recent origin, having
been established in 1871; yet in 1881, after only ten years'
growth, it carried ninety-five millions of letters, newspapers,
books, etc. Thirty millions of these were post-cards. Three
millions of telegrams were also transmitted in that year. Perhaps
no statement will give one a clearer idea than this of the rapid
progress of this strange country in the ways of the West.
Japan has only two short lines of railway for thirty-six millions
of people--a population nearly equal to that of Great Britain: one
eighteen miles from Yokohama to Tokio, the other seventy miles
from Hiogo to Kioto. This seems a scanty allowance; nevertheless
it is not probable that more than a few hundred miles of rail will
be built for centuries. The habits and poverty of the people, and
in many districts the topography of the country, are such as to
render railways unsuitable. The main highways are, however, kept
in admirable order. I was amused with the classification of these.
Those of the first class are such as lead from the capital to the
treaty ports; of the second class those lines leading to the
national shrines. Commerce has thus usurped the first place. Both
the first and the second class roads are maintained by the General
Government as being national affairs. Various grades of roads
follow, some being maintained by large districts; others, of local
importance, by taxes upon a smaller area; but all under the strict
supervision of central officials at Tokio.
Not the least surprising feature in the revolution going forward
so peacefully in Japan is the prompt adoption of the newspaper as
one of the essentials of life. A few years ago the official
Gazette, read only by officials and containing nothing of general
interest, was the only publication in the Empire; to-day several
hundred newspapers are published, many of them daily. A censorship
of the press still exists, however, and leads to the usual mode of
evasion. Pungent political articles are conveyed under cover of
criticisms ostensibly upon the blunders of lands not so
enlightened as Japan. Here is a specimen: "In America during the
Civil War paper currency was issued and made legal tender. At
every successive issue the premium rose higher and higher till the
currency was not worth more than a third of its face. The Southern
States followed in the same path, but they kept on till their
issues were found to be good for about one purpose only--to line
trunks withal--such fools these Americans be. Happy Japan! blessed
with rulers of preeminent ability, who keep the finances of our
land in such creditable form."
The fact was that Japanese currency was then at 22 per cent,
discount and rapidly declining in value under successive issues,
just as it had done in America. Such articles are no doubt far
more effective than open, undisguised assaults could possibly be,
for the cleverness of the evasion gives additional zest to the
attack. The Press is a hard dog to muzzle, and, like dogs in
general, only vicious when muzzled. The Japanese will soon find it
safer to "let Truth and Error grapple" in the full face of day,
for they are not slow to learn.
* * * * *
TUESDAY, December 3.
The turbulent China Sea has passed into a proverb. The Channel
passage in a gale, I suppose, comes nearest to it. We started to
cross this sea at daylight, and surely we have reason to be
grateful. It is as smooth as a mirror, the winds are hushed, and
as I write the shores of Japan fade peacefully from view. I cannot
help thinking how improbable that I shall ever see them again;
but, however that may be, farewell for the present to Japan. Take
a stranger's best wishes for your future.
Our cargo shows something of the resources of the country. It
amounts to eight hundred tons, comprising seaweed--a special kind
of which the Chinese are fond--ginseng, camphor, timber,
isinglass, Japan piece-goods, ingot copper, etc. Every week this
line takes to China a similar cargo, and the trade is rapidly
extending. This steamship company is worth noting as an evidence
of what Japanese enterprise is doing. The principal owner, the
Commodore Garrison of Japan, had a small beginning, but now runs
some thirty-seven steamers between the various Japanese ports.
Under the management of Mr. Krebs, a remarkable Dane, this company
beat off the Pacific Mail Company from the China trade, and
actually purchased their ships. There are many things found on
these vessels which our Atlantic companies might imitate with
advantage.
I believe I mentioned that Japan, not to be behind her Western
neighbors, had created a public debt, which now amounts to about
$300,000,000, but $250,000,000 of this was used in payment of the
two hundred and sixty-six daimios and their numerous retainers,
when government took over the land to itself. Each of these
potentates had vested rights in a certain proportion of the yield
of the soil of his district, and this was commuted by the
government into so much in its bonds, a fixed land tax being
substituted for the irregular exactions of former landlords. On
every side I hear that this has greatly improved the condition of
the population--made the people more contented, and at the same
time vastly augmented the products of the soil. Not less than
three millions of the population shared in this operation.
The nationalization of the land is under discussion in England,
and it is conceded that some change has to be made. Here is Japan
proving the results of nationalization, while Denmark shows what
private ownership of small pieces of land can do under a system of
cumulative taxation in proportion to the size of the estate held.
One of these two systems is likely to prevail in England some day.
Meanwhile, here is food for thought for the British tax-payer: out
of seventy-five million yens (£15,000,000) of revenue raised by
Japan, forty-three million comes from the land tax. The tax on
alcoholic liquors yields about seventeen millions more.
Since my visit to Japan an imperial decree has been published,
promising that a national assembly shall meet in 1890; so we have
the foundations of representative government almost at hand.
Surely no other nation ever abandoned its traditions and embraced
so rapidly those of a civilization of an opposite character. This
is not development under the law of slow evolution; it seems more
like a case of spontaneous generation. Presto, change! and here
before our very eyes is presented the strange spectacle of the
most curious, backward, feudalistic Eastern nation turning into a
Western one of the most advanced type.
That Japan will succeed in her effort to establish a central
government, under something like our ideas of freedom and law, and
that she has such resources as will enable her to maintain it and
educate her people, I am glad to be able to say I believe; but
much remains to be done requiring in the race the exercise of
solid qualities, the possession of which I find some Europeans
disposed to deny them. They have travelled, perhaps, quite fast
enough, and I look for a temporary triumph of the more
conservative party. But the seed is sown, and Japan will move,
upon the whole, in the direction of progress. And so, once more,
farewell, Japan; and China, now almost within sight, all hail!
* * * * *
CHINA.
In one respect at least pilgrims from other lands must bow to the
empire we are about to visit. It is the oldest form of civilized
government on earth. While the English monarchy boasts its
uninterrupted course of eight hundred years, and America has just
celebrated its first century of existence, this remarkable people
live under a government which has been substantially unchanged for
four thousand long years. The first authenticated dynasty dates
from 2345 B.C., and what is now China has been under one central
government for nearly two thousand five hundred years. Even the
Papacy, the most venerable of existing Western institutions, is
young compared to this. There was something in the reply of the
mandarin to the boast of one of our people as to the superiority
of our system: "Wait until it is tried!" To a Chinaman a thousand
years or so seems too short to prove anything. Theirs alone has
stood the test of ages. That the Chinese are a great race goes
without saying. Four hundred millions (nearly one-third of the
human race) existing for thousands of years under one unchanging
government, riding out the storms which have overwhelmed all other
nations; nay, even absorbing into themselves the Tartar hordes,
who came as conquerors, and making them Chinese against their
will. Such a record tells a story indeed! At a date so remote that
Egypt and Assyria were the great Western powers, when Athens and
Troy had just been founded, and Rome was not even thought of,
these people were governed much as they are now, and since A.D. 67
have published a daily Peking _Gazette_, of which (thanks to
our intelligent "host of the Garter," Mr. Janssen) we have secured
a copy. We are all but of yesterday compared to the Heathen
Chinee, and it is impossible to sit down and scribble glibly of
such a people. In Japan there is no record. It is a new race
appearing almost for the first time among civilized nations. It
has given the world nothing, but how widely different here! It is
to China the world owes the compass, gunpowder, porcelain, and
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