  [1] "We are never for a moment unwatched; ... if my servant runs after a butterfly, a two-sworded official runs after him."—Laurence Oliphant, Letter from Yedo, July 1861. [2] "As a general rule, our guardians exercise their functions with civility; when they are impertinent, one has to submit as one would to one's jailor.... With entire humility, one is in no danger whatever."—Oliphant, 2nd July 1861. [3] The effect of the commercial isolation of Japan on the value of general commodities was no less striking. The first foreign traders might have bought with eyes shut nearly every article that was offered to them, so great was the disparity of prices between Japan and her nearest markets. Mr Hunter gives an interesting example. "I had in go-downs," he says, "8000 piculs of sapan-wood imported from Manila unsaleable at one dollar and a quarter per picul, which was about its cost. Immediately that the opening of the port of Simoda to foreign trade was announced officially, an English vessel was chartered to carry it there. Brief—it was sold for 35 dollars per picul, and the proceeds were invested in Japanese vegetable wax at a cost of 6½ dollars, and sold for $17 the picul (133? lb. English)," so that in the short voyage from China to Japan and back the capital multiplied seventy times! [4] A story is told of two Samurai meeting on a bridge which was too narrow to allow of their passing each other. Neither being willing to give way, they were about to settle the difficulty at the point of the sword, when a peasant, strolling along the dry bed of the stream, offered to extricate them without loss of dignity on either side. Amused at his impertinence, and curious to see how he would effect his purpose, they consented to humour him; and when each, following his instructions, was seated in one of the baskets at either end of the pole he was carrying, he swung it round on to the opposite shoulder, asked pardon, bowed, and went on his way, leaving them each facing in the direction in which he would proceed. [5] Ieyasu says the Samurai are the masters of the four classes. Agriculturists, artisans, and merchants may not behave in a rude manner towards Samurai. The term for a rude man is, "other than expected fellow"; and a Samurai is not to be interfered with in cutting down a fellow who has behaved to him in a manner other than is expected. The Samurai are grouped into direct retainers, secondary retainers and nobles, and retainers of high and low grade; but the same line of conduct is equally allowable to them all towards an "other than expected fellow." [6] "All my old friends have disappeared," writes Laurence Oliphant on his return to Yedo as secretary of Legation. "One who was an especial favourite of mine when I was here last, ripped himself up a short time ago; and two of the other commissioners are disgraced, and it is supposed have followed his example. This was all on account of their friendship for foreigners. Every one, down to the lowest interpreter, who has had anything to do with the introduction of foreigners, has disappeared or been disgraced." [7] This man, Murioka by name, became afterwards well known to foreigners, and was always ready to talk freely about the whole transaction. When asked why he struck at a lady he would reply, "How should I know, never having seen a foreign woman, least of all on horseback?" [8] It was a common thing for a Daimio to rid himself of the irksome obligations of his position by abdicating in favour of his son. On better acquaintance Shimadso Saburo proved a most genial old gentleman. Three years later he entertained Sir Harry and Lady Parkes at his capital most hospitably. [9] Count InouyÉ, the foremost statesman of the new Japan, is said to have confessed that he set fire to the British Legation with his own hand with the express object of embarrassing the Tycoon's Government. [10] The following souvenir of Count Mutsu, Foreign Minister of Japan, who died in 1897, told by Mr J. F. Lowder and quoted in 'Things Japanese' by Mr Basil Hall Chamberlain, affords a graphic illustration of this point. "In the very early Sixties, when he was in his nineteenth or twentieth year, he was in Nagasaki desirous of acquiring a knowledge of English. A lady of my acquaintance taking an interest in him used to devote an hour or two every morning to teaching him to read and write, but it was not long before he came to me despairing of his slow progress, and asking whether I could not give him a berth on board ship where nothing but English was spoken. Believing him to be physically too weak to stand such an ordeal, I endeavoured to dissuade him, but without success; and so with some misgivings I shipped him as a cabin-boy, which was the only position I could obtain for him, on board a small British schooner that used in those days to voyage between Nagasaki and Shanghai. How long he remained on board I cannot say, but my recollection is that it was a very considerable time." [11] The foreign trade of Japan now (1900) approximates 40 millions sterling, exports and imports being very nearly balanced. [12] There is more truth than may appear in the bishop's paradox. Peking is singularly free from epidemics, except occasionally of smallpox. When Shanghai suffered so severely from cholera in 1862, there were two British regiments quartered there—one, the 67th, within the native city, amid filth and stagnant water; the other, the 31st, in the foreign settlement, in quarters carefully selected by the surgeon, Dr Rennie. The 31st lost a third of its strength; the 67th suffered very little. Writing in August 1860 from Peitang, a town 500 yards square in the midst of a great swamp, into which 17,000 men were huddled, Sir Hope Grant says: "Notwithstanding the pestilential nature of the place, our troops, wonderful to say, never enjoyed better health." [13] See infra, "Revision of the Treaty," pp. 210-222. [14] Vide 'U.S. Diplomatic Corresp.,' vol. ii. for 1867, p. 424. [15] He now knows better. |
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