A Budget of Letters from Japan. Reminiscences of work and travel, etc

Preface

. During my leisure hours, while a sojourner in " the land of the gods and of the rising sun," I made it a practice — partly as a matter of recreation, and partly from a desire to secure accurate information — to carefully reduce to writing my observations and experiences while dwelling in that beautiful country, in order that I might always have something tangible wherewith to refresh my memory in coming years when those vivid impressions had become dimmed through lapse of time. In the course of years, these " wayside jottings " accumulated in a manner quite surprising to myself. Throw ing out all matter that had been dwelt upon to any extent by other writers upon Japan, and retaining only that which seemed to me to be fresh material upon this subject, I reduced the substance of my journals to a book, adopting the form of correspondence as being conversational in its nature and best suited for conveying to other minds the results of my own observations and experiences.

Submitting the work to several impartial readers, I was strongly urged by them to have it published as containing matter of general interest presented in a readable manner. Bowing to their judgment in the mat ter, I now submit this " Budget of Letters " to the individual opinion of each reader, hoping that each may derive as much profit and pleasure from the perusal thereof as I have derived from the composing. Arthur C. Maclay. 32 Park Place, New York City, July I, 1S86. EXPLANATORY REMARKS. New York City, February i, 1886. Dear Public : Inasmuch as introductions are, subjectively and objectively, a bore, permit me to be very brief in introducing to you my friend Theophilus Pratt. He was a school-teacher in Japan for four years. He taught in various parts of the Japanese Em pire from the year 1873 to the year 1878.

During that time he wrote me quite a number of letters, which to me were very interesting. They are upon a variety of topics, including house-keeping, rebellions, and assassinations. They describe the halcyon days of school-teaching in Japan. They also touch upon events of general interest to Americans and Europeans. These letters, I repeat, were very interesting to me. Hence I naturally inferred that they might interest others. Therefore I have arranged them in book form, and now present them for your perusal. Hoping that our tastes in this matter will coincide, I remain, Very respectfully yours, Julius Marcellus Van Tag. CONTENTS.

Letter XXI

Farewell to Japan. . . . ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE The Yomei Gateway Frontispiece Casting up Accounts 21 Iwa-ki-san 35 Street Vender 43 Gossiping at the Well 51 Old-style Warriors 57 Third Moat of the Tokio Castle 68 Our Postal Service 81 Mayebara 99 Street Scene in Hirosaki 1 1 1 Ainos 130 The Ubiquitous Jinrikisha .- 145 The Kago 162 The Tomb of Tokugawa Iyeyas 173 Glimpse of Chiusenji Lake 186 View of the Third Terrace, Nikko Temples 196 The Citadel of Owari Castle 219 The Great Bell at Dai-Butz Temple, Kioto. 243 The Death of Buddha ... 258 Image of Dai-Butz at Kamakura 272 The Citadel of Kumamoto Castle 287 Ruins of the Citadel of Aidzu Castle 303 A Quiet Corner in a Buddhist Cemetery 333 At Home 346 The Three Estates A BUDGET OF LETTERS FROM JAPAN.

Letter I. The Farewell

San Francisco, California, October to, 1873. Dear Julius Marcellus: I AM off for Japan. I left New York in such a hurry that I was unable to give you a parting call. I therefore present my apologies and explanations by letter. I expect to be gone for three or four years ; and I wish to open a regular correspondence with you during my sojourn abroad. If you agree to this plan, be so kind as to notify me to that effect. Why did I decide so suddenly to go to Japan? Permit me to explain. You will remember that my studies were interrupted by the failure of my eyesight last year. This inopportune event laid me on the shelf, colloquially speaking. About six weeks ago I received a letter from my friend Adamson, in Yokohama, urging me to go out to Japan and teach school. He said the work would be agreeable and not too hard for my eyes.

He also said that the pecuniary considerations were by no means to be overlooked. He advised me to go right on to Yokohama so as to be ready to make application for the first vacancy that might occur. This was the only way to do, for there was no probability that a Japanese delegation would wait upon me in the United States. He said I might have to wait a year, or I might have to wait only a month, for one of these flitting opportunities. In almost every transaction in life we are offliged to incur a certain amount of risk. Success is the result of an ever-varying equation. The science of life is to calculate that there is a reasonable prob ability of a given set of circumstances producing a plus quantity, and then to go ahead. In the pres ent case, the circumstances and conditions augur well for success.

The journey across the continent was not specially exciting. We came through from New York with the same car-load of passengers with which we started. We had the usual assortment of travelers. There was the bridal couple going to visit the Yosemite. There was the Englishman returning to China via America despite the warning of anxious friends who had cautioned him to be ware of the free fights and the railway disasters of the reckless Americans. There was the elderly lady with spectacles, who had come to write a book on Mormonism, and wanted to silence all THE FAREWELL. 3 assailants with the fact that she had seen the things therein stated with her own eyes and could not be mistaken. There was the man going to get up a lecture on the Chinese immigration question, and wanted to convince his audiences of his impar tiality by stating that he had been in California and could testify whereof he knew.

And then there was the party of ubiquitous " Globe-Trot ters " with their Cook's Guide. We were given to understand that they represented several millions of dollars and also a rare assortment of refinement and culture. And, finally, there were Mrs. What's her-name, from Boston, and her husband, — but he didn't count. She had strong scientific tastes, and made many very wise observations. She thought that the country, through which we passed yester day, gave strong evidence of glacial erosion. To day she wishes that she could obtain some of those fossils in the ledge of rocks to our right, for she feels positive that the place gives indications of much geological interest. Her meek husband then expresses profound regret that the sordid aspirations of the lucre-loving railroad company will not allow the scientific passengers to spend an hour or two per day at these carboniferous outcroppings.

She then pines for some of those lovely endogenous bulbiferous plants that are growing beside yonder marsh, for she feels sure that they must be some new species, and heaves a regretful sigh as the train passes on. Whereupon her husband turns around and looks wildly down the car, as if seriously contemplating the immediate stopping of the train, or some other desperate maneuver whereby the bulbiferous endo gens may be procured. But, on second thought, he settles down and delivers himself of a diatribe against the vile mercenary spirit of railroad cor porations in general and of the Union Pacific in particular. Enlisting the florid effusions of some of his choice oratorical efforts, he warmly asserts that corruption in high places should be closely scrutinized ; that bribery and trickery among our public officials should be ferreted out, and an indignant public should excoriate the same with withering scorn ; and that the surest way of staying this frightful torrent of chicanery, and of heralding in pure politics, was to grant universal and unre stricted suffrage to the much-abused and down trodden female sex.

To all of which an approving amen was smiled by the budding scientist whose genius was thus being rudely blighted by the grasping avarice of the Union Pacific. It took us about seven days to cover the distance between the oceans. The journey was a most enjoyable one. The greater part of our com pany will take the same steamer for Yokohama. This will make it quite home-like. I have not cumbered myself with very much luggage. A trunk and a box of books tell the tale. They say that Yokohama furnishes all articles needed by Europeans and Americans. I hope you will ex cuse the brevity of this letter. Also, its abrupt termination, for I must go down to Santa Clara THE FAREWELL. 5 this afternoon to visit some cousins living there. Keep me posted on all home news, and I will post you on all news relating to Japan. Truly yours, Theophilus Pratt.

Letter II

A VOYAGE ACROSS THE PACIFIC. Yokohama, Japan, December 18, 1873. Dear Julius Marcellus: I HAVE been here about a month. I have not yet secured a position ; but my friend Adamson says that patience is a great virtue, particularly in Japan. He says that more than half the battle is won by being here on the ground. I hope to report progress in my next letter. My mornings I spend in walking over the delightful hills surrounding Yokohama. For two hours after tiffin I am engaged in teaching a couple of Japanese gentlemen. After that, I have some time for reading. And then before dinner I take another walk through the city or along the Bluffs. I have already been over almost every path within a radius of five miles of this place. Everything is so novel that it seems as if I were in a new world. Private teaching here is not very remunerative.

Japanese do not feel able to pay more than five dollars per month for tuition ; and the majority feel heavily taxed when they have to pay two dollars per month. Unless a person can secure a contract under the government, he will find school-teaching a poor business. But all this is not answering your questions about my voyage across the Pacific. Let us imagine ourselves on the wharves at San Francisco. We pass up the gangway of the huge paddle-wheel steamer chained to the pier. Its accommodations are superb. Upon the upper deck is a social hall where we can have music and dancing. Upon the same deck is a fine broad promenade. Here, the children, the terror of sea going folks, spend most of their time. These steamers take about twenty-six days to reach Yo kohama in moderately fair weather. The pro pellers take about eighteen days.

They are not, however, so comfortable, and many of the ladies prefer the extra time, with comfort. Having arranged our stateroom, we lean over the taffrail beside the main gangway, and watch the passengers coming up from the pier. Here comes the English party. They recognize us and exchange nods, for in journeying we dispense with formal introductions. Behind this party come three or four Japanese gentlemen dressed in Euro pean style and armed with patent leather valises. Then follows a Chinese Commissioner leading his two boys. They are all dressed in their native costume. And their well-greased pig-tails flaunt gently in the breeze. They come stalking up the gangway as consequentially as if they owned the ship. The contrast between them and the Japa nese is characteristic of the two nations.

The tide of passengers and leave-taking friends is now surging up and down the plank in a con tinuous stream. It is within a few minutes of high noon, and we are preparing to start. Ah ! here comes the admirer of bulbiferous endogens. And beside her is the denouncer of corrupt railroad cor porations, our friend Mustaches. That feeble old gentleman meekly following them is the father of the gushing scientist. We came near being deprived of their society across the Pacific. Time's up ! The gang-plank is drawn away. The hawsers are cast loose, and the vessel swings from the wharf. Round go the wheels, and the spray sprinkles the crowd on the pier. The extending wake of boiling waters now marks our course down the bay. Have you ever seen your native cliffs sinking be neath the waves? And have you ever felt as you gazed mournfully astern through the misty air that your farewell might be final, and that you might never see those blue mountains rising from the sea ?

Then you can appreciate our feelings. The passengers crowd the hurricane deck and wave their handkerchiefs to the crowded shore. Many eyes moisten as the gap widens and the re sponsive flutterings become obscured by the dis tance. Even the officers wear a resigned expres sion. But the saddest group of all is the little party of missionaries just abaft the paddle-box. They necessarily feel the situation far more keenly than people who are going abroad for self-interest, expecting to return in a few months, or two or three years at most. Their outlook is gloomy. For they are to be gone for ten years at least, un less death or disease steps in to shorten their exile. Now, in the Sunday schools we used to get the impression that missionaries were a species of beings so divinely constituted that they were not apt to be affected by ordinary human woes ; but here we see simply a sad little company of devoted people who are greviously afflicted, like ordinary mortals, with homesickness.

And as they hurry down into the cabin we grimly wonder how many of the church members at home, who believe in missionaries never leaving the foreign field, and in their going to heaven by way of India and China, and who are so loud in dictating about the econo mical disposal of missionaries, as if they were pieces of church furniture, would thus ostracize themselves from home, friends, and civilized society. But our voyage is begun. The peculiarity of a sea-voyage across the Pacific is that you get almost all nationalities represented. English, French, Germans, Jews, Chinese, Japanese, and Americans are apt to be well represented. All grades of so ciety, all creeds, and all professions are also apt to be represented. The cosmopolitan character of the passengers usually promotes good nature and sociability.

You, of course,- know what a sea voyage is. There is much sameness in the general run of events. Eating is our prime occupation. Coffee and toast at seven ; breakfast at eight ; tiffin at twelve ; a regular dinner at five ; and tea at nine ; there you have it. Our interludes we fill in with reading and gossip- Sometimes the Japanese passengers are criticised. You are duly informed how many cigars they smoke per day; how many bottles of wine they drink at dinner ; how often they pace up and down the spar-deck indorsing the civilized method of exercise ; how little Tanaka, while pacing the deck with the dignity of a tycoon, had his high hat blown over the quarter-rail and came very near going over himself while frantically hopping after it ; and how sociable, genial, and chatty they are. Then you will hear a long yarn about the missionaries.

How the stewardess says the ship al ways meets a storm when they come aboard ; and how foolish it is for people to spend thousands of dollars in sending them abroad when there are so many heathens at home. Then you will hear about the English. How they bet on every imaginable thing, — on the weather, on the number of miles run per day, on the prospects of rain, on the continuance of the wind, and on the length of the voyage. Then the Americans catch it. And our English cousins furnish us with a series of dissolving views upon society, politics, and morality in all that por tion of dangerous territory called by civilized na tions America, but which we designate the United States. They always advance the same arguments, and tenaciously cling to the same line of assertion. They get most of their ideas from English newspapers and journals, and never think for themselves as to whether their ideas are accurate.

I have had several tilts with them and have now become so familiar with their mode of attack that I begin to wish they would start a new journal in England so that we can have a little variety in our discourses. After a short conversation you can tell by what London newspaper an Englishman swears. We have had several animated after-dinner dis cussions. As a matter of recreation, I have dramatized these belligerent talks. I here insert a copy of my humble efforts. It will serve as a sample. ACT I. Scene I (Captain's table. Dramatis Pcrsonœ. — Captain, two Germans, three Englishmen, and two Americans. All busily engaged in eating nuts and raisins.) Dr. Smith of London. — I say, would you mind just passing that dish of almonds ? Mr. Brown of New York. — With pleasure. Dr. S. — An uncommonly auspicious beginning for our pas sage, you know.

Mr. B. — It is, indeed. But I fear we shall have some cases of seasickness before we reach Japan. Dr. S. — I am rather inclined to think so myself, you know. Mr. B. — This Pacific has a false reputation, I think. The captain thinks we will have some rough weather before we're through. Dr. S.— So the "Jright dark" told me. Mr. B.— Excuse me, but I didn't catch the gentleman's name. Dr. S. — That gentleman near the purser. Mr. B. Oh ! Freight clerk, you mean — that individual with a red moustache. Dr. S. — Ah ! That's another one of the peculiarities of the American language. You know, I am often floored by some of your odd provincialisms. You never know when you are going to turn the corner sharp upon one of them. It's con foundedly awkward, you know. Mr. B. — I don't think much difference exists in the cultivated language of the two countries.

The colloquial does vary somewhat, I believe. Dr. S. — But you Americans are changing the English language, you know. Mr. B. — All languages, sir, that live must grow, you know. Even in England the language has changed within a century. Dr. S. — But your American phrases and patois, so to speak, are sometimes quite unintelligible. Captain. — To hear you talk, doctor, one would think that the English language was spoken in full perfection in Eng land. But I have been to places within two hours' ride of London where you positively can't understand the people and they can't understand you. Just go over the Sussex Downs some time. And as for patois, you have a number of them even in so small a space as England ; to say nothing of the barbaric lingo you find in Wales, Ireland, and Scotland. Mr. Jones of Liverpool. — And don't you find the same thing in America ?

Captain. — No. You can go from Maine to California and be perfectly understood, except among the Indians. Dr. 5.— Quite true. Yes, quite true. But I'm afraid you don't fully grasp my meaning, you know. I refer more par ticularly to the newspaper literature of America. I think you'll own that American editors are guilty of the most un justifiable liberties in distorting the English language. Look at the Police Gazette, the Buckeye Democrat, and the infernal orthography of Artemus Ward and Naseby. Mr. B. — Be fair, doctor. You are not selecting standard papers. And then you must remember that no American pretends to recommend the spelling of Ward and Naseby. These writers are popular both in England and America because they are humorous and witty. Mr. Griggs of New York. — Guess you'd better try again, doctor.

Why don't you quote the Harpers', the Atlantic Monthly, and the North American Review ? Dr. S. — Well, take the Harper's Weekly then. See how it copies pictures from English papers. You will often find the same picture in both papers. Mr. B. — Well, supposing we do. Don't you copy Ameri can jokes into your English papers ? We copy your choice illustrations, and you copy our witticisms. Doesn't that leave the sides equally balanced ? Mr. Jones. — But your American papers are so addicted to exaggeration that a stranger finds himself sorely puzzled what to believe. I have met a great many Americans who, when I say that a certain thing is stated so and so in the newspaper, immediately burst out laughing and say that is just why they don't believe it. A man can't tell what to be lieve, you know.

It's intensely awkward, indeed it is. Mr. Griggs. — I regret to say that your remarks are quite just respecting what we designate as our newspaper "trash." Some of these papers are very vile, I admit. But our first class newspapers are not generally unreliable. You must remember that your English papers frequently make blun ders. And they sometimes get decidedly personal. Mr. Pinker of London. — Then you Americans are so superficial. You don't do things thoroughly. Why, I met an American in Paris who had been there just a week and was talking of returning home. He thought he had " done " Europe ! You Americans think you can do Europe in three months ! Captain.— -Pray how long have you been in the United States ? Mr. Pinker. — Just long enough to come across and take Niagara in. Captain. — I thought so.

That's just the way nine out of every ten Englishmen do up the States. I've met lots of them on this route. You fellows jump on the train at New York. Then you make a rush because you have heard that railway traveling is dangerous in America, and you never know when a band of Sioux will board the train. At Niagara you scamper on to the Canadian side, and then thank your stars that you are safe. Then you make a bee line for San Francisco and board the first steamer for Japan. And after that you consider yourselves fit to discuss America, socially, politically, and otherwise. You fellows lack consistency. Mr. Pinker. — Well, I saw enough to see that Americans all live in hotels. Your daughters trail their dresses through public drawing-rooms everywhere. Mr. Dobbs. — Alter what you have said, it can hardly be expected that you should possess an exhaustive and critical comprehension of our institutions.

I have lived in America thirty years, aud I feel confident in asserting that as regards America outside of the large cities, your statement is essen tially incorrect. Mr. Pinker. — I've been told so by many travelers. Then there's an awful amount of rascality in America. The ve nality is something frightful. The papers are full of it. Even the railroad corporations are corrupt. In coming over ou the train, it was a subject of remark how the Union Pacific Company ignored the interests of the passengers. And besides, the cars in America never go over twenty-five miles an hour. Now between London and Liverpool we have trains that go over fifty miles per hour. Mr. Griggs. — Have you ever heard of the Erie road ? Mr. Pinker. — No. Mr. Griggs. — Well, what are you blowing for then ? We have got trains there that go as fast as any in England.

Mr. Pinker. — I don't believe it. Mr. Griggs. — Look here, my friend. I see what you Eng lish want. You want us to make a clean, unadulterated, up and-down, out-and-out confession that republicanism is a failure ; that the American social system is mawkishly tame ; that our political institutions are corrupt to the core ; that our people are rapidly degenerating into effeminacy and im becility ; that education of the masses is bosh ; that the abolishing of our Constitution and the adoption of British in stitutions is merely a question of time ; and that our benighted citizens are gradually becoming aware of these facts, and are beginning to see the error they committed a hundred years ago in separating from the essence of political freedom. When we have humiliated ourselves to that extent and sufficiently groveled in the dust, you may possibly be induced to smile upon us ; and may condescend to appoint governors to fatten off us ; and may modestly send over tax-collectors to fill the depleted treasuries of your bankrupt government, and to squeeze out of us wherewith to help support your useless, scrofulous breed of nobles that now greedily looks upon our prosperity.

All. — I say, hold on ! Are you wound up for any special length of time ? Mr. Jones. — Let the steward clear the table, and we'll ad journ to the smoking-room, where brother Griggs may con tinue his speech. {Exeunt.) That's about the way it goes. I always thought that Americans wer-e given to bragging. But I must confess that the English are just as bad. I LETTERS FROM JAPAN. find that the elements of human nature are the same all over the world. "And it takes a sea voyage to bring out all its phases. Take the Bulbiferous Endogen, for example, and her partner. There you have an aggressive female linked to an insipid man. She represents a type of womanhood which, thank heavens, will never be very popular. It certainly is not a fair specimen of our American ladies. She has energy and positiveness enough for a school boy, but she lacks the true instincts of a lady.

She is well read and has considerable intelligence, but she parades her knowledge so incessantly that you become disgusted. She takes endless pains to let you know that she is intellectual and scholarly ; yet she is oblivious of the fact that true scholarship is always modest, and that only pedants love to display. Once in awhile she gets off a clever remark, but the superficiality that invariably accompanies these hits quite destroys their effect ; and the air of conscious superiority that she assumes fairly makes you pity her. After conversing with her about ten minutes you are usually refreshed with the information that she graduated at the head of her class in some college ; that there were some men in the same class, but that they, of course, were entirely inferior to the ladies in scholarship ; that she has studied Latin, Greek, higher mathematics, logic, rhetoric, chemistry, and lots of other things ; that she is proficient in French and German ; that she considers herself equal to any Harvard or Yale graduate ; that it is all bosh to say any intellectual difference exists between men and women, — that if any does exist it is in favor of women ; and finally, that female suffrage is only a question of time.

For emphasis, she gravely looks over her glasses and slowly taps the arm of her chair with her fan so as to direct with greater force the arrow of conviction, and looks around ready to an nihilate any one should they chance to question her views. And Mustaches sits by tamely breath ing forth an occasional "That's so! By Jingo!" and fills in the pauses by telling how he prepared for Yale College but did not enter (for reasons quite obvious), and that he hopes to see the day when co-education and woman suffrage shall prevail all over the United States. Bah ! Let us drop this compound of nauseating egotism and pedantic prig gishness. On the twenty-sixth day we sighted the Japan coast. I went on deck to get a view, but could see nothing that looked like land. Finally, just over the bows, I was able to see the dim outlines of snowy Fujisan some eighty miles away, rising and falling with the ship.

At mid-day, we passed several fishing boats. By three o'clock in the afternoon we rounded Cape King and entered Yeddo Bay. From this point up to Yokohama is a sail that the visitor will never forget. Fishing boats are swarming in all the inlets that branch from the bay. The nude condition of the boatmen much mortified our Jap anese passengers, who were highly disgusted at this prominent display of nature unadorned on the part of their countrymen. We steam rapidly up the bay, and leave behind us a lengthened vista of hills, groves, temples, and fishing hamlets. And we drop anchor in Yoko hama harbor just as the evening mists begin to float from the distant valleys and repose against the sides of the lordly cone that we sighted this morning. We let down the gangway and are immediately beset by a fleet of boats scuffling for the first place beside it.

While waiting the arrival of Fred, I lean over the railing and waffch the surging crowd of half naked savages scrambling, yelling, and gesticulat ing in the most demoralized manner beneath. It amuses us immensely. And so this is Japan, the civilized Japan, about which I have heard so much. Incredible ! There must be some mistake ! These wretches must be imported. I turn to see who is grasping my arm. — " Why, bless me ! Fred, my boy, how are you ! I didn't know you were anywhere within a league. Fred. — " I have been on the Bluffs the past hour watching you coming up the bay. I was just going out for my afternoon walk around Mississippi Bay when the gun went off. Come, get your baggage, and let's be going. My boat is waiting. I want you to stay with me in Yokohama until you have negotiated a contract."