Chapter IX: Introduction (7)

It was the American Union which opened the door of Japan to western civilization. It had been desired by all of the European nations, as well as by the United States, to obtain access to Japanese ports. Supplies were frequently needed, particularly water and coal, but no distress was ever considered a sufficient excuse for the Japanese to permit the landing of a foreign vessel’s crew. Shipwrecked sailors frequently passed through seasons of great trial and danger, before they were restored to their own people. Even Japanese sailors who were shipwrecked on other shores, or carried out to sea, were refused re-admission to their own country when rescued by foreigners.

Commodore Matthew Calbraith Perry of the American navy, urged upon President Millard Fillmore the necessity and possibility of making some sort of a treaty with the exclusive empire. It was decided that the most effective way to advance this desire was to sail into the bay of Yeddo with a squadron sufficient to command respect. A fleet was assigned to the undertaking, under the command of Perry, and the American vessels sailed away to the Orient to rendezvous at the chief city of the Liu Kiu islands, Napha. From Napha the fleet sailed for Japan, the Susquehanna, the flagship, the advance of the line of the ships of seventeen nations.

It was on the seventh day of July, 1853, under a sky and over a sea of perfect calm, that the four American warships appeared off Uraga in the Bay of Yeddo. Without delay the officials of Uraga emphatically notified the “barbarian” envoy that he must go to Nagasaki, where all business with foreigners had to be done. The barbarian refused to go. He informed the messengers that he was the bearer of a letter from the President of the United States to the Emperor of Japan; that he had sailed as near as possible to the destination of the letter and would now deliver it and continue it on its way by land, but he would not retrace his path until the letter was delivered. The shogun Iyeyoshi on receiving information of such decision, was exceedingly troubled and called his officials to a council. Alarm was wide spread, and it was ordered that strict watch should be kept along the shore to prevent the barbarian vessels from committing acts of violence. During the eight days while Commodore Perry’s fleet was waiting in the Bay of Yeddo, the boats of his ships were busily engaged in taking soundings and surveying the shores and the anchorage. No sailors were permitted to land, and no natives were molested. Every effort was made to indicate to the Japanese the desire for a peaceful friendship.

A learned Chinese scholar was sent by the shogun to Uraga, who acted as an official and eminent interpreter in an interview with the American envoy. Continued councils were called by the shogun, not only of his chief officers but of the daimios, the nobles, and the retired nobles of Yeddo. The citizens of Yeddo and the surrounding villages were in great tumult, fearing that there would be a war, for which the country was totally unprepared. Meanwhile the envoy was impatiently demanding an answer. At last, after eight days, the patience and the impatience, combined with the demonstrations made by the vessels of the fleet, which were highly impressive to the Japanese who had never seen a steamboat, won success for Commodore Perry’s message. A high Japanese commissioner came to Uraga, prepared a magnificent pavilion for the ceremonies, and announced himself ready to receive the letter to the emperor. With great pomp and ceremony the Americans landed and in this pavilion with proper formalities, delivered the letter and presents from the president. Then having, for the first time in history, gained several important points of etiquette in a country where etiquette was more than law or morals, the splendid diplomat and warrior Perry sailed away with his fleet July 17, 1853.

It was in response to a temporizing policy on the part of Japan, and to the good judgment and careful decision of Commodore Perry, that the fleet sailed away without demanding an immediate reply to his letter. The American envoy was informed that in a matter of so much importance a decision could not be at once reached, and that if he now left, he would on his return get a definite answer. No wonder there was commotion. The nineteenth century had come suddenly into contact with the fourteenth. The spirit of commerce and the spirit of feudalism, two great but conflicting forces, met in their full development, and the result was necessarily a convulsion. We are hardly surprised to hear that the shogun died before Commodore Perry’s return, or that during the next few years the land was harassed by earthquakes and pestilences.

Perry’s second appearance was in February, 1854, this time with a much larger fleet. A hot debate took place in the shogun’s council as to the answer that should be given. The old daimio of Mito, the head of one of the three families, which, forming the Tokugawa clan, furnished the occupants of the shogunate, wanted to fight and settle the question once for all. “At first,” he said, “they will give us philosophical instruments, machinery and other curiosities; will take ignorant people in; and trade being their chief object they will manage to impoverish the country, after which they will treat us just as they like, perhaps behave with the greatest rudeness and insult us, and end by swallowing up Japan. If we do not drive them away now we shall never have another opportunity.”

Others gave contrary advice, saying, “If we try to drive them away they will immediately commence hostilities, and then we shall be obliged to fight. If we once get into a dispute we shall have an enemy to fight who will not be easily disposed of. He does not care how long he will have to spend over it, but he will come with myriads of men-of-war and surround our shores completely; however large a number of ships we might destroy, he is so accustomed to that sort of thing that he would not care in the least. In time the country would be put to an immense expense and the people plunged into misery. Rather than allow this, as we are not the equals of foreigners in the mechanical arts, let us have intercourse with foreign countries, learn their drill and tactics, and when we have made the nation as united as one family, we shall be able to go abroad and give lands in foreign countries to those who have distinguished themselves in battle.”

The latter view carried and a treaty with the United States was signed on the thirty-first of March, 1854. Now be it observed that the shogun did this without the sanction of the mikado, whom indeed he had never yet consulted on the matter, and that he subscribed himself Tai Kun, (“Tycoon,”) or great ruler, a title to which he had no right and which if it meant anything at all involved an assumption of the authority of supreme ruler in the empire. This was the view naturally taken by Perry and by the ambassadors from European countries who a few years later obtained treaties with Japan. They were under the impression that they were dealing with the emperor; and hearing of the existence of another potentate living in an inland city, surrounded with a halo of national veneration, they conceived the plausible but erroneous theory that the tycoon was the temporal sovereign, and this mysterious mikado the spiritual sovereign of the country. They little dreamed that the so-called tycoon was no sovereign at all, and that consequently the treaties which he signed had no legal validity.

The shogun could ill afford thus to lay himself open to the charge of treason. From the first there had been a certain class of daimios who had never heartily submitted to the Tokugawa administration. The principal clans which thus submitted to the regime under protest against what they considered a usurpation, an encroachment on the authority of the mikado, whom alone they recognized as the divinely appointed ruler of Japan, were those of Satsuma, Choshiu, and Tosa. As the years of peace cast their spell over the nation, making the people forgetful of war and transforming the descendants of Iyeyasu into luxurious idlers, much more like impotent mikados than successors of the energetic soldier and law-giver, their hopes more and more arose that an opportunity would be given them to overthrow the shogunate and bring about the unification of the empire at the hands of the mikado. Their time had now come. The shogun was enervated and he had so far forgotten himself as to open the country to foreign trade, without the sanction of the “Son of Heaven.” It was this illegal act of the shogun that precipitated the confusion, violence and disaster of the next few years, reaching ultimately in 1868 to the complete overthrow of his own power and the restoration of the mikado to his rightful position as actual as well as nominal ruler of the empire.

Fearing the consequences of the illegal act into which he had been driven, the shogun lost no time in sending messengers to Kioto to inform the mikado of what had happened and seek his sanction to the policy adopted. It was plead in excuse for the course of conduct, that affairs had reached such a condition that the shogun was driven to sign the treaty. The emperor in great agitation summoned a council. The decision was unanimous against the shogun’s action, and the messengers were informed that no sanction could be given to the treaty. The next important step was not taken until July, 1858, when Lord Elgin arrived with propositions on the part of Great Britain for a treaty of amity and commerce. He was unaccompanied by any armed force, and brought a steam yacht as a present from Queen Victoria to the tycoon of Japan.

A few months later treaties were entered into with all the leading powers of Europe, but if there was a political lull between 1854 and 1858, the poor Japanese had distractions of a very different kind. From a violent earthquake and consequent conflagration, one hundred and four thousand of the inhabitants of Yeddo lost their lives. A terrific storm swept away one hundred thousand more, and in a visitation of cholera thirty thousand persons perished in Yeddo alone. Moreover, just when the treaties were being signed, the shogun Iyesada died, “as if,” says Sir R. Alcock, “a further victim was required for immolation on the altar of the outraged gods of Japan.”

The political tempest that had been gathering now swept over the nation. For the next ten years there was so much disorder, intrigue, and bloodshed, that Japan became among the western nations a byword for treachery and assassination. Defenseless foreigners were cut down in the streets of Yeddo and Yokohama and even in the legations. Twice was the British legation attacked, on one of the occasions being taken by storm and held for a time by a band of free-lances. No foreigner’s life was safe. Even when out on the most trivial errand, every foreign resident was accompanied by an armed escort furnished by the shogun’s government. It is needless to give an account of all the different assassinations, successful or attempted, which darkened the period. The secretary to the American legation was cut down near Shiba, Yeddo, when returning from the Prussian legation with an armed escort; a Japanese interpreter attached to the British legation was fatally stabbed in broad daylight while standing at the legation flagstaff; one of the guard at the same legation murdered two Englishmen in the garden and then committed suicide; an Englishman was cut down on the highway between Yokohama and Yeddo by certain retainers of the daimio of Satsuma, whose procession he had unwittingly crossed on horseback; and these were not all.

It is not a satisfactory answer to say that hatred of foreigners was the leading motive that inspired all these acts of violence. This was no doubt more or less involved, but the true explanation is to be found in the hostility of the mikado’s partisans to the shogun’s government. All possible means were taken to thwart the shogun and bring him into complications with the ambassadors at his court. Every attack on a foreigner brought fresh trouble upon the Yeddo government and hastened its collapse. Long before foreigners arrived, the seeds of revolution had sprouted and their growth was showing above the soil. It is to the state of political parties and of feudalism at this epoch in Japanese history, and not to mere ill will against foreigners, that this policy of intrigue and assassination must be ascribed.

It would take too long to discuss all the complications of this period and to inquire, for instance, how far when the Japanese government failed to arrest and execute the murderer of Mr. Richardson, the British were justified in demanding an indemnity of $500,000 from the shogun and $125,000 from the daimio of Satsuma, or in enforcing their demands with a threatened bombardment of Yeddo and an actual bombardment of Kagoshima. It is out of our scope here to inquire into the shelling of the batteries of the daimio of Choshiu, at Shimonoseki, in turn by the Americans, British, French and Dutch, the men of Choshiu having fired upon some Dutch, American, and French vessels that had entered the straits against the prohibition of the Japanese. An indemnity of $3,000,000 was also exacted and distributed among these nations.

Such stern measures doubtless appeared to the foreign ambassadors necessary to prevent the expulsion or even the utter extermination of foreigners. Whether their policy was mistaken or not, certain it is that they can have had no adequate conception of the difficulties with which the shogun had to contend. The position of that ruler was one of such distraction as might well evoke for him the pity of every disinterested onlooker. Do as he would, he could not escape trouble; on the one side were the mikado’s partisans ever growing in power and in determination to crush him, and on the other were the equally irresistible foreigners with their impatient demands and their alarming threats. He was as helpless as a man between a wall of rock and an advancing tide.

The internal difficulties of the country were increased by dissensions which broke out in the imperial court. The clans of Satsuma and Choshiu had been summoned to Kioto to preserve order. For some reason the former were relieved of this duty, or rather privilege, and it therefore devolved exclusively upon the Choshiu men. Taking advantage of their position, the Choshiu men persuaded the mikado to undertake a progress to the province of Yamato, there to proclaim his intention of taking the field against foreigners; but this proposal roused the jealousy of the other clans at the imperial court, as they feared that the men of Choshiu were planning to obtain possession of the mikado’s person and thus acquire pre-eminence. The intended expedition was abandoned, and the men of Choshiu, accompanied by Sanjo, afterward prime minister of the reformed government, and six other nobles who had supported them, were banished from Kioto.

The ill feeling thus occasioned between Choshiu and Satsuma, was fomented by an unfortunate incident which occurred at Shimonoseki early in 1864. The former clan recklessly fired upon a vessel, which being of European build they mistook for a foreign one, but which really belonged to Satsuma. Thus Choshiu was in disfavor both with the shogun and with the mikado, and in this year we have the strange spectacle of these two rulers leaguing their forces together for its punishment. August 20, 1864, the Choshiu men advanced upon Kioto, but were repulsed with much slaughter, only however after the greater part of the city had been destroyed by fire. The rebellion was not at once quelled; indeed the Choshiu samurai were proving themselves more than a match for the troops which the shogun had sent against them, when at length the imperial court ordered the fighting to be abandoned. Simultaneously with the Choshiu rebellion the shogun had to meet an insurrection by the daimio of Mito, in the east. His troubles no doubt hastened his death, which took place at Osaka in September, 1866, shortly before the war against Choshiu terminated. Then there succeeded Keiki, the last of the shoguns.

It should be noted, however, that before this the mikado’s sanction had been obtained to the foreign treaties. In November, 1865, British, French, and Dutch squadrons came to anchor off Hiogo, of which the foreign settlement of Kobe is now a suburb, and sent letters to Kioto demanding the imperial consent. The nearness of such an armed force was too great an argument to be withstood, and the demand was granted. Little more than a year after his accession to the shogunate Keiki resigned. In doing so he proved himself capable of duly appreciating the national situation. Now that foreigners had been admitted, it was more necessary than ever that the government should be strong, and this, it was seen, was impossible without the abolition of the old dual system. He had secured the mikado’s consent to the treaties, on the condition that they should be revised, and that Hiogo should never be opened as a port of foreign commerce.

But the end had not yet come. On the same day when the shogunate was abolished, January 3, 1868, the forces friendly to the Tokagawas were dismissed from Kioto, and the guardianship of the imperial palace was committed to the clans of Satsuma, Tosa, and Geishiu. This measure gave Keiki great offense, and availing himself of a former order of the court which directed him to continue the conduct of affairs, he marched with his retainers and friends to Ozaka and sent a request to the mikado that all Satsuma men who had any share in the government should be dismissed. To this the court would not consent, and Keiki marched against Kioto with a force of thirty thousand men, his declared object being to remove from the mikado his bad counselors. A desperate engagement took place at Fushimi, in which the victory was with the loyalists. But this was only the beginning of a short but sharp civil war, of which the principal fighting was in the regions between Yeddo and Nikko.

The restoration was at last complete. Proclamation was made “to sovereigns of all foreign nations and their subjects, that permission had been granted to the shogun Yoshinobu, or Keiki, to return the governing power in accordance with his own request;” and the manifesto continued: “henceforward we shall exercise supreme authority both in the internal and external affairs of the country. Consequently the title of emperor should be substituted for that of tycoon which had been hitherto employed in the treaties.” Appended were the seal of Dai Nippon, and the signature of Mutsuhito, this being the first occasion in Japanese history on which the name of an emperor had appeared during his lifetime.

With the triumph of the imperial party one might have expected a return to the old policy of isolation. There can be no doubt that when the Satsuma, Choshiu, and other southern clans commenced their agitation for the abolition of the shogunate, their ideas with regard to foreign intercourse were decidedly retrogressive. But after all, the leading motive which inspired them was dissatisfaction with the semi-imperial position occupied by the upstart Tokugawas; to this their opposition to foreigners was quite secondary. It so happened that the Tokugawa shoguns got involved with foreigners, and it was so much the worse for the foreigners. To go deeper, what was at the bottom of this desire was the overthrow of the shogunate. Doubtless their patriotism, what they had at heart, was the highest welfare of their country, and this they believed impossible without its unification. Their primary motive then, being patriotism, we need not be surprised that they were willing to entertain the notion that perhaps after all the prosperity of their country might best be insured by the adoption of a policy of free foreign intercourse. This idea more and more commended itself, until it became a conviction; and when they got into power they astonished the world by the thoroughness with which they broke loose from the old traditions and entered upon a policy of enlightened reformation. To the political and social revolution which accompanied the restoration of the mikado in 1868, there has been no parallel in the history of mankind.

One of the first acts of the mikado after the restoration, was to assemble the kuges and daimios and make oath before them “that a deliberative assembly should be formed, and all measures be decided upon by public opinion; that impartiality and justice should form the basis of his action; and that intellect and learning should be sought for throughout the world in order to establish the foundations of the empire.” In the mid-summer of 1868, the mikado, recognizing Yeddo as really the center of the nation’s life, made it the capital of the empire and transferred his court thither; but the name Yeddo, being distasteful on account of its associations with the shogunate, was abolished, and the city renamed Tokio, or “Eastern Capital.” At the same time the ancient capital Kioto, received the new name of Saikio or “Western Capital.” For the creation of a central administration, however, more was necessary than the abolition of the shogunate and the establishment of the mikado’s authority. The great fabric of feudalism still remained intact. Within his own territory each daimio was practically an independent sovereign, taxing his subjects as he saw fit, often issuing his own currency, and sometimes even granting passports so as to control intercourse with neighboring provinces. Here was a formidable barrier to the consolidation of the empire. But the reformers had the courage and the tact necessary to remove it.

The first step towards the above revolution was taken in 1869, when the daimios of Satsuma, Choshiu, Hizen, and Tosa addressed a memorial to the mikado requesting his authorization for the resignation of their fiefs into his hands. Other nobles followed their example, and the consequence was the acceptance by the mikado of control over the land and revenues of the different provinces, the names of the clans however being still preserved, and the daimios allowed to remain over them as governors, each with one-tenth of the former assessment of his territory as rental. By this arrangement the evil of too suddenly terminating the relation between the clans and their lords was sought to be avoided, but it was only temporary; in 1871 the clan system was totally abolished, and the country redivided for administrative purposes, with officers chosen irrespectively of hereditary rank or clan connection.

But the payment of hereditary pensions and allowances of the ex-daimios and ex-samurai proved such a drain upon the national resources that in 1876 the reformed government found it necessary to compulsorily convert them into capital sums. The rate of commutation varied from five years’ purchase in the case of the largest pensions, to fourteen years’ in that of the smallest. The number of the pensioners with whom they had thus to deal was three hundred and eighteen thousand four hundred and twenty-eight. The act of the daimios in thus suppressing themselves looks at first sight like a grand act of self-sacrifice, as we are not accustomed to see landed proprietors manifesting such disinterestedness for the patriotic object of advancing their country’s good. But the vast majority of daimios had come to be mere idlers, as the greater mikado had been. Their territories were governed by the more able and energetic of their retainers, and it was a number of these men that had most influence in bringing about the restoration of the mikado’s authority. Intense patriots, they saw that the advancement of their country could not be realized without its unification, and at the same time they cannot but have preferred a larger scope for their talents, which service immediately under the mikado would give them. From being ministers of their provincial governments, they aspired to be ministers of the imperial government. They were successful; and their lords, who had all along been accustomed to yield to their advice quite cheerfully, acquiesced when asked for the good of the empire to give up their fiefs to the mikado. One result of this is that while most of the ex-daimios have retired into private life, the country is now governed almost exclusively by ex-samurai. Such sweeping changes were not to be accomplished without rousing opposition and even rebellion. The government incurred much risk in interfering with the ancient privileges of the samurai. It is not surprising that several rebellions had to be put down during the years immediately succeeding 1868.

Dr. William Elliot Griffis, in his exhaustive and interesting work, “The Mikado’s Empire,” discusses at length the change of Japan from feudalism to its present condition, the abolition of the shogunate, and the rebellions that followed that event. He declares that popular impression to be wrong which suggests that the immediate cause of the fall of the shogun’s government, the restoration of the mikado to supreme power, and the abolition of the dual and feudal systems, was the presence of foreigners on the soil of Japan. The foreigners and their ideas were the occasion, not the cause, of the destruction of the dual system of government. Their presence served merely to hasten what was already inevitable.

The history of Japan from the abolition of feudalism in 1871 up to the present time, is a record of advance in all the arts of western civilization. The mikado, Mutsuhito, has shown himself to be much more than a petty divinity, a real man. He has taken a firm stand in advocacy of the introduction of western customs, wherever they were improvements. The imperial navy, dockyards, and machine shops have been a pride to him. He has withdrawn himself from mediæval seclusion and assumed divinity, and has made himself accessible and visible to his subjects. He has placed the empress in a position like to that occupied by the consorts of European monarchs, and with her he has adopted European attire. In the latter part of June, 1872, the mikado left Tokio in the flagship of Admiral Akamatsu, and made a tour throughout the south and west of his empire. For the first time in twelve centuries the emperor of Japan moved freely and unveiled among his subjects.

Again in the same year Japan challenged the admiration of Christendom. The coolie trade, carried on by Portuguese at Macao, in China, between the local kidnappers and Peru and Cuba, had long existed in defiance of the Chinese government. Thousands of ignorant Chinese were yearly decoyed from Macao and shipped in sweltering shipholds, under the name of “passengers.” In Cuba and Peru their contracts were often broken, they were cruelly treated, and only a small portion of them returned alive to tell their wrongs. The Japanese government had with a fierce jealousy watched the beginning of such a traffic on their own shores. In the last days of the shogunate, coolie traders came to Japan to ship irresponsible hordes of Japanese coolies and women to the United States. To their everlasting shame, be it said some were Americans. Among the first things done by the mikado’s government after the restoration, was the sending of an official who effected the joyful delivery of these people and their return to their homes.

So the Japanese set to work to destroy this nefarious traffic. The Peruvian ship Maria Luz, loaded with Chinese, entered the port of Yokohama. Two fugitive coolies in succession swam to the English war ship Iron Duke. Hearing the piteous story of their wrongs, Mr. Watson, the British chargé d’affaires, called the attention of the Japanese authorities to these illegal acts in their waters. A protracted enquiry was instituted and the coolies landed. The Japanese refused to force them on board against their will, and later shipped them to China, a favor which was gratefully acknowledged by the Chinese government. This act of a pagan nation achieved a grand moral victory for the world and humanity. Within four years the coolie traffic, which was but another name for the slave trade, was abolished from the face of the earth, and the coolie prisons of Macao were in ruins. Yet the act of freeing the Chinese coolies in 1872 was done in the face of clamor and opposition, and a rain of protests from the foreign consuls, ministers, and a part of the press. Abuse and threats and diplomatic pressure were in vain. The Japanese never wavered, but marched straight to the duty before them, the liberation of the slaves. The British chargé and the American consul, Colonel Charles O. Shepherd, alone gave hearty support and unwavering sympathy to the right side.

During the same year, 1872, two legations and three consulates were established abroad, and from that time forward the number has been increasing until the representatives of Japan’s government are found all over the world. Scores of daily newspapers and hundreds of weeklies have been furnishing the country with information and awakening thought. The editors are often men of culture or students returned from abroad.

The Corean war project had, in 1872, become popular in the cabinet and was the absorbing theme of the army and navy. During the Tokugawa period Corea had regularly sent embassies of homage and congratulation to Japan; but not relishing the change of affairs in 1868, disgusted at the foreignizing tendencies of the mikado’s government, incensed at Japan’s departure from Turanian ideals, and emboldened by the failure of the French and American expeditions, Corea sent insulting letters taunting Japan with slavish truckling to the foreign barbarians, declared herself an enemy, and challenged Japan to fight. About this time a Liu Kiu junk was wrecked on eastern Formosa. The crew was killed by the savages, and, it is said, eaten. The Liu Kiuans appealed to their tributary lords at Satsuma, who referred the matter to Tokio. English, Dutch, American, German, and Chinese ships have from time to time been wrecked on this cannibal coast, the terror of the commerce of Christendom. Their war ships vainly attempted to chastise the savages. Soyejima, with others, conceived the idea of occupying the coast, to rule the wild tribes, and of erecting light houses in the interests of commerce. China laid no claim to eastern Formosa, all trace of which was omitted from the maps of the “Middle Kingdom.” In the spring of 1873, Soyejima went to Peking and there, among other things granted him, was an audience with the Chinese emperor. He thus reaped the results of the diplomatic labors of half a century. The Japanese ambassador stood upright before the “Dragon Face” and the “Dragon Throne,” robed in the tight black dress-coat, trousers, and linen of western civilization, bearing the congratulations of the young mikado of the “Sunrise Kingdom” to the youthful emperor of the “Middle Kingdom.” In the Tsung-li Yamen, Chinese responsibility over eastern Formosa was disavowed, and the right of Japan to chastise the savages granted. A Japanese junk was wrecked on Formosa, and its crew stripped and plundered while Soyejima was absent in China. This event piled fresh fuel on the flames of the war feeling now popular even among the unarmed classes.

Japan at this time had to struggle with opposition within and without, to every move in the direction of advancement in civilization. Says Griffis, “At home were the stolidly conservative peasantry backed by ignorance, superstition, priestcraft, and political hostility. On their own soil they were fronted by aggressive foreigners who studied all Japanese questions through the spectacles of dollars and cents and trade, and whose diplomatists too often made the principles of Shylock their system. Outside the Asiatic nations beheld with contempt, jealousy and alarm the departure of one of their number from Turanian ideas, principles, and civilization. China with ill-concealed anger, Corea with open defiance taunted Japan with servile submission to the ‘foreign devils.’

“For the first time the nation was represented to the world by an embassy at once august and plenipotentiary. It was not a squad of petty officials or local nobles going forth to kiss a toe, to play the part of figure-heads, or stool-pigeons, to beg the aliens to get out of Japan, to keep the scales on foreign eyes, to buy gun-boats, or to hire employees. A noble of highest rank, and blood of immemorial antiquity, with four cabinet ministers, set out to visit the courts of the fifteen nations having treaties with Dai Nippon. They were accompanied by commissioners representing every government department, sent to study and report upon the methods and resources of foreign civilizations. They arrived in Washington February 29, 1872, and for the first time in history a letter signed by the mikado was seen outside of Asia. It was presented by the ambassadors, robed in their ancient Yamato costume, to the President of the United States on the 4th of March, Mr. Arinori Mori acting as interpreter. The first president of the free republic, and the men who had elevated the eta to citizenship stood face to face in fraternal accord. The one hundred and twenty-third sovereign of an empire in its twenty-sixth centennial saluted the citizen ruler of a nation whose century aloe had not yet bloomed. On the 6th of March they were welcomed on the floor of Congress. This day marked the formal entrance of Japan upon the theater of universal history.”

In its subordinate objects the embassy was a signal success. Much was learned of Christendom. The results at home were the splendid series of reforms which mark the year 1872 as epochal. But in its prime object the embassy was an entire failure. One constant and supreme object was ever present, beyond amusement or thirst for knowledge. It was to ask that in the revision of the treaties the extra-territoriality clause be stricken out, that foreigners be made subject to the laws of Japan. The failure of the mission was predicted by all who knew the facts. From Washington to St. Petersburg point-blank refusal was made. No Christian governments would for a moment trust their people to pagan edicts and prisons. While Japan slandered Christianity by proclamations, imprisoned men for their beliefs, knew nothing of trial by jury, of the habeas corpus writ, or of modern jurisprudence; in short while Japan maintained the institutions of barbarism, they refused to recognize her as a peer among nations.

At home the watchword was progress. Public persecution for conscience' sake vanished. All the Christians torn from their homes and exiled and imprisoned in 1868 were set free and restored to their native villages. Education advanced rapidly, public decency was improved, and the standards of Christendom attempted.

While in Europe Iwakura and his companions in the embassy kept cognizant of home affairs. With eyes opened by all that they had seen abroad, mighty results, but of slow growth, they saw their country going too fast. Behind the war project lay an abyss of ruin. On their return the war scheme brought up in a cabinet meeting was rejected. The disappointment of the army was keen and that of expectant foreign contractors pitiable. The advocates of war among the cabinet ministers resigned and retired to private life. Assassins attacked Iwakura, but his injuries did not result fatally. The spirit of feudalism was against him.

On the 17th of January, the ministers who had resigned sent in a memorial praying for the establishment of a representative assembly in which the popular wish might be discussed. Their request was declined. It was officially declared that Japan was not ready for such institutions. Hizen, the home of one of the great clans of the coalition of 1868, was the chief seat of disaffection. With perhaps no evil intent, Eto, who had been the head of the department of justice, had returned to his home there and was followed by many of his clansmen. Scores of officials and men assembled with traitorous intent, and raised the cry of “On to Corea.” The rebellion was annihilated in ten days. A dozen ringleaders were sent to kneel before the blood pit. The national government was vindicated and sectionalism crushed.

The Formosan affair was also brought to a conclusion. Thirteen hundred Japanese soldiers occupied the island for six months, conquering the savages wherever they met, building roads and fortifications. At last the Chinese government in shame began to urge their claims on Formosa and to declare the Japanese intruders. For a time war seemed inevitable. The man for the crisis was Okubo, a leader in the cabinet, the master spirit in crushing the rebellion, and now an ambassador at Peking. The result was that the Chinese paid in solid silver an indemnity of $700,000 and the Japanese disembarked. Japan single-handed, with no foreign sympathy, but with positive opposition, had in the interests of humanity rescued a coast from terror and placed it in a condition of safety. In the face of threatened war a nation having but one-tenth the population, area, or resources of China, had abated not a jot of its just demands nor flinched from battle. The righteousness of her cause was vindicated.

The Corean affair ended happily. In 1875 Kuroda Kiyotaka with men of war entered Corean waters. Patience, skill, and tact were crowned with success. On behalf of Japan a treaty of peace, friendship, and commerce was made between the two countries February 27, 1876. Japan thus peacefully opened this last of the hermit nations to the world.

The rebellions which we have mentioned were of a mild type compared with that which in 1877 shook the government to its foundations. In the limits of our space it is impossible to enter deeply into the causes of the Satsuma rebellion. Its leader, Saigo Takamori, was one of the most powerful members of the reformed government until 1873 when he resigned as some of his predecessors had done, indignant at the peace policy which was pursued. A veritable Cincinnatus, he seems to have won the hearts of all classes around him by the Spartan simplicity of his life and the affability of his manner, and there was none more able or more willing to come to the front when duty to his country called him. It is a thousand pities that such a genuine patriot should have sacrificed himself through a mistaken notion of duty. Ambition to maintain and extend the military fame of his country seems to have blinded him to all other more practical considerations. The policy of Okubo and the rest of the majority in the cabinet, with its regard for peace and material prosperity, was in his eyes unworthy of the warlike traditions of old Japan. But we cannot follow out the story of this famous rebellion—how Saigo established a private school in his native city of Kagoshima for the training of young Shizoku in military tactics, how the reports of the policy of the government more and more dissatisfied him, until a rumor that Okubo had sent policemen to Kagoshima to assassinate him precipitated the storm that had been brewing. This report was not supported by satisfactory evidence, although the Kagoshima authorities extorted a so-called confession from a policeman. Okubo was too noble to be guilty of such an act. It was only after eight months of hard fighting, during which victory swayed from one side to another, and the death of Saigo and his leading generals when surrounded at last like rats in a trap, and the expenditure of over forty million yen, that the much tried government could freely draw breath again. The people of Satsuma believe that Saigo’s spirit has taken up its abode in the planet Mars, and that his figure may be seen there when that star is in the ascendant.

By this time railways, telegraphs, lighthouse service, and a navy were well under construction in native works. Two national exhibitions were held, one in 1877 and the second in 1881; the latter particularly was a pretentious one and a great success. In 1879 Japan annexed the Liu Kiu islands, bringing their king to Tokio, there to live as a vassal, and reducing the islands to the position of a prefecture in spite of the warlike threats of China. In the same year occurred the visit to Japan of General Grant while he was on his tour around the world. The famous American was entertained most enthusiastically by the citizens of Tokio for some two weeks in July. The enthusiasm awakened by his visit among the citizens was remarkable. Arches and illuminations were on every hand for miles. The entertainment provided by the Japanese for their distinguished guests at any time is so unique when seen by western eyes that it is always impressive and delightful.

LIMITS AND POSSESSIONS OF THE JAPANESE EMPIRE.

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The Islands and their Situation—The Famous Mountain Fuji-yama—Rivers and Canals—Ocean Currents and Their Effect on the Japanese Climate—Japan not a Tropical Country—Flora and Fauna—The Important Cities—Strange History of Yokohama—Commerce—Mining—Agricultural Products—Ceramic Art—Government of the Realm.

The empire of Japan is a collection of islands of various dimensions, numbering nearly four thousand, and situated to the east of the Asiatic continent. Only four of these however, are of size sufficient to entitle them to considerable fame, and around these a sort of belt of defense is formed by the thousands of islets. Dai Nippon is the name given by the natives to their beautiful land, and from this expression, which means Great Japan, our own name for the empire has been taken. Foreign writers have very often blundered in calling the largest island Nippon or Niphon. This more properly applies to the entire empire, while the main island is named in the military geography of Japan, Hondo. This word itself means main land. The other three important islands are Kiushiu, the most southeasterly of all; Shikoku, which lies between the latter and Hondo; and Yesso, which is the most northerly of the chain.

Japan occupies an important position on the surface of the globe, measured by political and commercial possibilities. Its position is such that its people may not unreasonably hope to form a natural link between the Occident and the Orient. Lying in the Pacific Ocean, in the temperate zone and not in the torrid, as many have the thought, it bends like a crescent off the continent of Asia. In the extreme north, near the island of Saghalien, the distance from the main land of Asia is so short that it is little more than a day’s sail in a junk. At the southern extremity, where Kiushiu draws nearest to the Corean peninsula, the distance to the main land is even less. Between this crescent of islands and the Asiatic main land is enclosed the Sea of Japan. For more than four thousand miles eastward stretches the Pacific Ocean, with no stopping point for steamers voyaging to San Francisco unless they diverge far from their course for a call at Honolulu.

The island connections of Japan are numerous. To the south are the Liu Kiu islands, which have been annexed to Japan, and still farther the great island of Formosa. To the north are the Kurile islands, which extend far above Yesso and were ceded to Japan by Russia in return for Saghalien, over which rule was formerly disputed. The chain is almost continuous, although broken and irregular, to Kamtchatka, and thence prolonged by the Aleutian islands in an enormous semicircle to Alaska and our own continent.

The configuration of the land is that resulting from the combined effects of volcanic action and wave erosion. The area of the Japanese islands is about one hundred and fifty thousand square miles, or nearly as great as the New England and Middle States. But of this surface nearly two-thirds consists of mountain land, much of it still lying waste and uncultivated though apparently capable of tillage. On the main island a solid backbone of mountainous elevations runs through a great portion of its length, with subordinate chains extending at right angles and rising again in the other islands. The mountains decrease in height towards the south and there are few highlands along the sea coast. The range is reached by a gradual rise from the sea, until the backbone of the great island chain is reached. Japan rises abruptly from the sea, and deep water begins very close to the shore, indicating that the entire range of islands may be properly characterized as an immense mountain chain thrown up from the bottom of the ocean. The highest peak is Fuji-yama, which rises to a height of more than twelve thousand feet above the sea. It is a wonderfully beautiful mountain, and is the first glimpse that one has of land in approaching Yokohama from the Pacific Ocean. Of the position which this mountain occupies in the affections and traditions of the Japanese, mention will be made in a later chapter.

The islands forming the empire of Japan are comprehended in these limits; between twenty-four degrees and fifty-one degrees north latitude, and one hundred and twenty-four degrees and one hundred and fifty-seven degrees east longitude. That is, speaking roughly, it lies diagonally in and north of the subtropical belt, and has northern points corresponding with Paris and Newfoundland, and southern ones corresponding with Cairo and the Bermuda islands; or coming nearer home, it corresponds pretty nearly in latitude with the eastern coast line of the United States, added to Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, and the contrasts of climate in the latter island and in Florida are probably not more remarkable than those which are observed in the extreme northern and southern regions of Japan.

The most striking geographical feature of Japan is the Inland Sea, which is one of the beauties of the world. It is a long, irregularly shaped arm of the sea, with tides and rapid currents, of variable width and no great depth, studded with innumerable thickly wooded islands. It is the water area which separates Hondo from Shikoku and Kiushiu, and is often spoken of as the Japanese Mediterranean.

One or two of the rivers of Japan, such as the Sumida, on the banks of which Tokio, the capital, lies, and which is about as broad as the East River between New York and Brooklyn, are worthy of note. Here at the present time are situated several ship yards, and many modern craft built in the American fashion may be seen along the shore. Here it may be mentioned that any particular appellation given to a river in Japan holds good only for a limited part of its course, so that it changes its name perhaps four or five times in flowing a few hundred miles. Indeed the river which passes through the city of Ozaka changes its name four times within the city limits. Most of the larger rivers in the main land run a course tending almost north and south. The general contour of the land is such that they must be short, but this direction gives them the greatest length possible. There are brief periods of excessively heavy rain, and they are often then in fierce flood, carrying everything before them and leaving great plains of water-worn stones and gravel around their mouths. There are many picturesque waterfalls which attract travelers and command the admiration of native artists and poets. The rivers at a short distance from their outlets are rendered navigable chiefly by the courage and expertness of the boatmen,—who are among the most daring and skillful in the world.

Till recently little has been done to deepen river channels or protect their banks, except in the interest of agriculture. In the lower courses, where broad alluvial plains of great fertility have been formed, they are frequently intersected by numerous shallow canals, for the most part of comparatively recent excavation, but some of them are many centuries old and these have been of immense service in keeping up communication throughout the country. In spite of their shallowness and rapid silting, some of the rivers of Japan are capable of being improved so as to admit of the passage of steam vessels of the largest size, and there are fine natural inlets and spacious bays which form harbors of great excellence.

The Japanese coast is usually steep and even precipitous. Its chief natural features, such as sunken rocks, capes, straits, entrances to bays and harbors and the mouths of rivers are now well marked with beacons or lighthouses of modern construction. The tides are not great, and in Yeddo bay the rise is only about four feet on an average. In spring tides it rarely exceeds six feet, and in general the height of the flood tide is never very great. Navigation in summer is somewhat dangerous and difficult, owing to the mists and fogs which are deemed by its sailors to be the great scourge of Japan. Indeed these malarious cloud banks are probably as dangerous to the health of the landsmen as they are to the safety of the mariner. While a large area of land lying under shallow water, during rice cultivation, may have some share in the formation of these dangerous mists, there is the more general cause which is readily to be found in the ocean currents.

Japan occupies a striking position in these currents which flow northward from the Indian ocean and the Malay peninsula. That branch of the great Pacific equatorial current called the Kuro Shiwo, or dark tide or current, on account of its color, flows in a westerly direction past Formosa and the Liu Kiu islands, striking the south point of Kiushiu and sometimes in summer sending a branch up the Sea of Japan. With great velocity it scours the east coast of Kiushiu and the south of Shikoku; thence with diminished rapidity it envelopes the group of islands south of the Bay of Yeddo; and at a point a little north of Tokio it leaves the coast of Japan and flows northeast towards the shores of America, ultimately giving to our own Pacific coast states a far milder climate than the corresponding latitudes on the Atlantic coast.

The yearly evaporation at the tropics, of fully fourteen or fifteen feet of ocean water, causes the great equatorial current of the Pacific to begin its flow. When the warm water reaches the colder waters to the northward, condensation of the water-laden air takes place, with the resulting formation of great cloud banks. The water appears to be of a deep, almost indigo-blue color, whence the name given to the current by the Japanese. Fish occur in great numbers where the Arctic current of fresher, lighter, and cooler water meets the warm salt stream from the south, amidst great commotion. The analogy of this great current to the Gulf stream of the Atlantic is apparent, and there can be no doubt as to its great influence on the climate of Japan. A difference of from twelve to sixteen degrees may be observed in passing from its waters to the cold currents from the north, and the effect of this on the atmosphere is very marked. The sudden and severe changes of temperature are often noticed on the southern coast of Japan and even in Yeddo bay. They are evidently due to eddies or branch currents from the great streams of cold and warm water which interweave themselves in the neighborhood.

In the island of Yesso, the most northerly of the large ones, the extremes of temperature are nearly as great as in New England. In the vicinity of Tokio the winter is usually clear and mild, with occasional sharp frosts and heavy falls of snow. In summer the heat is oppressive for nearly three months. Even at night the heat remains so high that sleep becomes almost impossible, the air being oppressive and no breeze stirring. The greatest heat is usually from the middle of June to early in September. The cold in winter is much more severe on the northwestern coast, and the roads across the main island are often blocked with snow for many months. In Yokohama the snow fall is light, not often exceeding two or three inches. The ice seldom exceeds an inch in thickness. Earthquake shocks are frequent, averaging more than one a month, but of late years there have been none of great severity.

The winds of Japan are at all seasons exceedingly irregular, frequently violent, and subject to sudden changes. The northeast and easterly winds are generally accompanied by rain, and are not violent. The southwest and westerly winds are generally high, often violent, and accompanied with a low barometer. It is from the southwest that the cyclones or typhoons almost invariably come. On clear and pleasant days, which in the neighborhood of Yokohama prevail in excess of foggy ones, there is a regular land and sea breeze at all seasons. The rainfall is above the average of most countries, and about two-thirds of the rainfalls during the six months from April to October.