and lucky experience for me and no harm to him, as I had not known he
ever went out before I picked him up in the street. I went down our hill
as usual with a friend to take the car. At this side of the street where
the car passes, we walk across the bridge on the canal and then turn and
walk one block to the car stop. When we got to the other side of the
bridge all the people on both sides of the street were massed in a nice
little quiet line and three policemen were carefully and gently placing
each one according to his height so he could see as well as possible. So
we lined in with the rest while the policeman looked on in an
encouraging fashion. Nobody spoke out loud, and after I had noticed the
friend with me having a conversation with the officer, I ventured to ask
why we were left standing there. With the same quiet, she said: "The
Emperor is passing on his way to the commencement exercises of Waseda
University." Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather. I
don't suppose I should have known what was happening at all unless I
could have figured it out from the Chrysanthemums on the carriage doors.
I said to her: "How is he coming, in an automobile? How long are we to
stand here?" I had visions of the stories about the streets being
cleared, and the doors shut for some hours while white sand was
sprinkled over the car tracks, and all the rest. "No," she said, "just a
little time." I saw by now that I was not likely to have much gossip
poured out to me about the Emperor, so I just fixed a nice little thing
about three years old in front of me and then we waited with the rest of
the school children. Soon the procession came, first a body of horse in
plain khaki uniforms, then one very Japanese-looking man alone on the
back seat in one of the light victorias, very clean and shiny, with the
Chrysanthemums on the door. He was dressed in a khaki wool uniform just
like the rest of the army with a cap on his head. Then came some other
shiny, light little victorias with two horses, all just alike. I
rubbered my best and I had a very good look at the one little man alone
in the middle of the seat, and sitting up and looking straight ahead of
him pleasantly. In the midst of the passing I asked the companion with
me, "Which is the Emperor?" and she answered "The one in the first
carriage," and still there was that quiet of perfect breeding; and by
and by all the nice little soldiers on horseback passed, and after I had
stood a little longer on the edge of my bridge I started our little
procession moving towards the car. The Emperor had gone the opposite
way. After a little I said: "I did not know the Emperor went to
commencements and things like that," and I chattered on, and then my
companion said in her slow, proper, calm tone: "That is my first
experience to see the Emperor, too." And I said "Is that so?" and asked
some more questions, still wondering that no one had called out a Banzai
nor made a sound, and it is not till to-day that I learned that all the
people were standing with their eyes cast down to the ground, and that I
was the only one who looked at the Emperor, and their reverence was so
great that that was the reason I had not heard them breathe. For another
thing, Waseda is the liberal university and private, so I wondered still
till I learned then that the Emperor was going to the Peers' School
commencement, and that is the one commencement he goes to every year. So
you see I had luck, and my conscience was clear for having rubbered, and
I have seen the Emperor.
The Imperial Garden party comes off the week after we leave Tokyo. To
this party all the nobles of the third rank and above, and all the
professors in the Imperial University, and all the foreigners of latest
arrival, are asked. So a foreigner can go just once and no more unless a
Professor. We put our names down in the Ambassador's book for an
invitation before we knew all the niceties of the case. So now that we
have learned that we can go once and no more, and that we are expected
to go if we are invited, we will take back our request for an invitation
as the party is on the 17th of April, and we are to be in Kyoto on the
15th. So in our good luck, a daughter of a Baron, who is a member of the
Imperial household, has asked us to go with her to-morrow to see the
Imperial Garden where the party is to be and we may see the gardens all
the better. This Imperial Garden is one of the prince's gardens and not
the one behind the moat where the Emperor lives. It seems the fall
chrysanthemum party is in that garden, though never inside the inner
moat where no one goes unless he has an audience. The moat and the
surroundings of the palace are lovely, but as you can read the guide
book if you want a description, I will not bore you with an attempt. The
walls of the moat were built by labor of the feudal dependencies, and
like all such labor it spared no pains to be splendid. Some of the moats
have been filled up long ago, but there are still three around the
palace. Inside the outer one you may walk part of the time and see the
grand gates with their solemn guards. In these gardens the air is fresh
and the birds sing in the trees, and the dust of the city never gets
there.
To-night I am wearing tabi, those nice little toe socks which will not
fit my feet, but which are so much nicer than the felt toe slippers that
fall off your feet every time you go upstairs. As a matter of fact, I
wear ordinary house slippers in this house, but it is nicer not to and
we always take them off when we come in from outdoors. Truly, the
Japanese are a cleaner people than we are. Have I told you we bathe in a
Japanese tub? Every night a hot, very hot wooden box over three feet
deep is filled for us. This one has water turned in from a faucet, but
in Kamakura the little charcoal stove is in the end of the tub and the
water is carried in by buckets, and is reheated each night. It seems all
right and I regret all the years our country went without bath tubs, and
all the fuss we made to get them when this little, simple device was all
there and as old as the hills. But we can catch up with the heating and
cooking with charcoal hibashi.
We have learned to eat with chop sticks very well, and it is not a bad
way. The main objection I see to it is that one eats too fast, and
Fletcherizing is not known in this country. The nice little way of doing
your own cooking is something to introduce for cuteness in New York.
These last few days we have just been sightseeing in the real European
sense, running about town and buying small things all day and then
having the wonderful advantage of coming back to this delightful home of
perfect comfort at night, which is quite unlike Europe, and spoils us
for the common lot of knocking about.
The greatest actor of the country is here. He belongs in Osaka, his name
is Ganjiro, and we have a box for Thursday. The play is the one that was
given in New York called "Bushido." It is much longer than as given
there. It is called by another name and is acted quite differently. On
Sunday we are going again to the Noh Dance, or if no good tickets are to
be had for that, we are going to a theater where women act all the parts
to offset the usual way here of having only men in the company. The men
who act women's parts here do make up very well. They live and dress and
act as women all the time so as not to lose the art. Only when they
stand in pose they cannot conceal the fact that they are men. The play
begins at one in the afternoon and lasts until ten at night. Tea and
dinner is brought into your box in those nice little lacquer lunch
boxes. Ganjiro is on the stage in every scene for eight hours, so you
can see the actors work for their art here. The costumes are superb, but
the actors do not simply strut to show off. Their speech being very
affected in manner they have had to depend upon expression to get
results, and as a consequence their acting is done with their entire
body more than any other school in the world. The best ones, like the
ones we are to see, can express any emotion, so 'tis said, with their
backs and the calves of their legs when you can't see their faces.
TOKYO, April 1.
Our activities of late have been miscellaneous; we spent three days,
counting coming and going four days, at Kamakura last week. It is on the
seaside and is a great resort, summer and winter, for the Japanese, and
at the hotel for Europeans over weekends. For summers the foreigners go
to the mountains, while the Japanese take to the seaside, largely
because there is more for the children to do on the seashore, but partly
because mountains seem to be an acquired taste. Kamakura is about ten
degrees warmer than Tokyo, as it is sheltered by the hills. Peas were in
blossom and the cherry trees all out. It was cold and rainy while we
were there, however, except one day, when we crowded in so much
sightseeing we got rather tired. Mamma and I are now catching up on
calls, prior to leaving and doing some sightseeing. To-day we went to a
shop where they publish very fine reproductions of the old art of Japan,
including Chinese paintings owned in Japan, much better worth buying
than the color print reproductions to my mind, though we have laid in
some reproductions of the latter. There are so many millionaires made by
the war in Japan, that lots of the old lords are selling out part of
their treasures now; prices I think are too high even for Americans. The
old Daimyo families evidently have enough business sense to take
advantage of the market, though some are hard up and sell more for that
reason. A week ago we went to an auction room where there was a big
collection of genuine old stuff, much finer than appears in the curio
shops, and this weekend there is another big sale by a Marquis. However,
it is said they keep the best things and unload on the nouveau riche;
not but what a lot of it is mighty good as it is.
My other experience that I have not written about is seeing Judo. The
great Judo expert is president of a normal school, and he arranged a
special exhibition by experts for my benefit, he explaining the theory
of each part of it in advance. It took place Sunday morning in a big
Judo hall, and there were lots of couples doing "free" work, too; they
are too quick for my eye in that to see anything but persons suddenly
thrown over somebody's back and flopped down on the ground. It is really
an art. The Professor took the old practices and studied them, worked
out their mechanical principles, and then devised a graded scientific
set of exercises. The system is really not a lot of tricks, but is based
on the elementary laws of mechanics, a study of the equilibrium of the
human body, the ways in which it is disturbed, how to recover your own
and take advantage of the shiftings of the center of gravity of the
other person. The first thing that is taught is how to fall down without
being hurt, that alone is worth the price of admission and ought to be
taught in all our gyms. It isn't a good substitute for out-of-door
games, but I think it is much better than most of our inside formal
gymnastics. The mental element is much stronger. In short, I think a
study ought to be made here from the standpoint of conscious control.
Tell Mr. Alexander to get a book by Harrison--a compatriot of his--out
of the library, called "The Fighting Spirit of Japan." It is a
journalist's book, not meant to be deep, but is interesting and said to
be reliable as far as it goes. I noticed at the Judo the small waists of
all these people; they breathe always from the abdomen. Their biceps are
not specially large, but their forearms are larger than any I have ever
seen. I have yet to see a Japanese throw his head back when he rises. In
the army they have an indirect method of getting deep breathing which
really goes back to the Buddhist Zen teaching of the old Samurai.
However, they have adopted a lot of the modern physical exercises from
other armies.
The gardens round here are full of cherry trees in blossom--and the
streets are full of people too full of sake. The Japanese take their
drunkenness apparently seasonly, as we hadn't seen drunken people till
now.
TOKYO, April 2.
We have had another great day to-day. This morning rose early and wrote
letters, which were not sent in spite of the haste, as we decided the
slow boat was slower than waiting for a later and faster one. So you
ought to get many letters at once. The day has been sunshiny and bright,
but not at all sultry, so perfect for getting about. We went to the art
store to get some prints which we had selected the day before and then
on to call on a Professor of Political Economy, who is also a member of
Parliament, radical and very wide awake and interesting, quite like an
American in his energy and curiosity and interest. We visited and
learned a lot about things here and there and then he took us to lunch
at his mother-in-law's house. They have a beautiful house in Japanese
style, with a foreign style addition, like most of the houses of the
rich, the Japanese part having no resemblance whatever to the foreign,
which is so much less beautiful. In carpets and table covers and
tapestries imitated from the German, the Japanese have no taste, while
in their own line they remain exquisite. This house is one of the most
absolute cleanliness. No floor in it but shines like a mirror and has
not a fleck of dust, never had one. Let me see if I can describe
accurately this entertainment. We took three 'rickshas and rode through
the cherry lined narrow streets over hills where are the lovely gardens
of the rich showing through the gateways and showing over the top of the
bamboo walls, which are built of poles about six feet long upright and
tied together with cords. They are very pretty with the green. When we
reached the house Mr. U---- took us in to the foreign drawing room,
which is very mid-Victorian and German in its general effect. This one
has in it a beautiful lacquer cabinet, very large and quite overpowering
every other thing in the room. There the ladies of the house came in and
made their bows, very amiable and smiling at our thanks for their
hospitality. The sister-in-law, a young girl of sixteen, who wants to go
to America, and afterwards the grandmother, very much the commanding
character that a grandmother ought to be. The children hovered round
them all much like our children. The ladies brought us tea with their
own hands in lovely blue and white cups with little lacquer stands and
covers. Candy with the tea, which was green. I forgot to say that we had
already, during the hour with Mr. U---- had tea three different times
and of three different kinds, besides little refreshments therewith.
After a little we were summoned to lunch. Three places set on a low
table and a beautiful blue brocade cushion to sit upon. The two younger
ladies on their knees ready to serve us. They poured out wine for us, or
Vermouth, and we took the latter. We had before us, each, one lacquer
bowl, covered, that contained the usual fish soup with little pieces of
fish and green things cut up in it. This we drink, putting the solid
bits into our mouths with the chop sticks. The grandmother thought she
ought to have prepared foreign food, but the clever girl of sixteen had
spoken for home food, and so we thanked them for giving that to us, as
we seldom get a real genuine Japanese meal. And this is the first we
have had where we were served by the ladies of the house, except the
dolls' food at the festival. It seems this is the highest compliment
that we have had, as the real Japanese home is open to the foreigner
only when the foreigner is asked to sit on the floor and is served by
the ladies of the household. They kneel near the table and the maid
brings the dishes and hands them to the ladies, who in turn serve the
dishes to the guests. It is very pretty. I have reached the stage where
I can sit on my heels for the length of a meal, but I rise very
awkwardly, as my feet are asleep clear up to my knees at the end. We ate
soup, cold fried lobster and shrimps, which are dipped in sauce besides;
and cold vegetables in another bowl, and then hot fried fish; then some
little pickles, then rice, of which the Japanese eat several bowls, then
the dessert, which has been beside you all the time, and is a cold
omelette, which tastes very good, and then they give you tea, Formosa
oolong. We had toast, too, but that is foreign. Then we left the table
and were shown the rooms upstairs, which contain many pieces of lacquer
and bronze and woodwork, and then we went down and there was tea and a
dish of fruit ready for us. We had not much time for this, as they were
going to send us in a motor to the Imperial Gardens. But as the last
kind of tea had to be brought we were at the door putting on our shoes
when it arrived. This tea is strong oolong and has milk in it, with two
lumps of sugar for you to put in yourself. Thus we had been served with
tea six times within three hours.
It is hard to describe the Imperial Gardens. Read the guide book and you
will see that it is. Ten thousand orchid plants were the beginning of
the sight. We saw the lettuce and the string beans and the tomatoes and
potatoes and eggplant and melons, and all growing under glass, for the
Emperor to eat. Never saw such perfect lettuce, all the heads in one
frame of exactly the same size and arrangement, as if they were
artificial, and all the others just right. Why potatoes under glass?
Don't ask me. Grapes in pots looked as if the raising of grapes under
glass was in its beginning, but maybe not, as I was not familiar enough
with those little vines to know whether they would bear or not. The
flowers in the frames were perfection. Masses of Mignonette daisies, and
some other bright flowers I did not know were ready to put out in the
beds which were prepared for the garden party. We cannot go on the 17th.
A very large pavilion with shingle roof under which the Emperor and
Empress are to sit at the party is being built and will be taken down
the next day, or rather week, as it will take more than one day. Then if
it rains there will be no party. To-night it looks as if rain might
spoil the blossoms. But to-day was perfect. It is a little surprising
when one sees this famous garden after reading about Japanese gardens
for all one's life. There is such a large expanse of grass with no
flowers and the grass does not get green here so soon as with us, and it
is now all brown, though big masses of daffodils are superb. These under
the cherry trees with the sunshine shining through slantways made one of
the brilliant sights of a lifetime. The artificial lakes and rivers and
waterfall and the bridges and islands and hills with big birds walking
and swimming make enough to have come for to Japan. The groups of trees
are as fine as anything can be and across the long expanses the view of
them is like a succession of pictures. There are a hundred and
sixty-five acres in the park, no buildings. In the beginning it was
pretty well to one side of the city, but now it is on a car track of
much travel, though still on the outskirts on its outer edge.
On Monday we have arranged to go to the theater again at the Imperial.
To-day it is the great actor Ganjiro at a small theater. It is said the
jealousy of the Tokyo actors and managers keeps Ganjiro from getting a
fair chance when he comes here. Mr. T----, formerly of Chicago, has just
been here to try to arrange a dinner for us before we leave, the dinner
to be at a restaurant with all the old students present. The restaurants
are always amusing and we agreed, of course. This may keep us in Tokyo
one day longer, though that is not decided yet. For the rest of the time
we are to make up on calls as far as we can and ride about to see the
cherry blossoms, and I hope we may see some of the famous tea houses.
Thus far we have seen no tea house at all, and there is not one
afternoon tea house where ladies go in this city excepting the
new-fashioned department stores, and they do not stand for anything
different than they do with us. This shows how little the real ladies of
Tokyo go out of their houses.
The Sumida river is a big river gathering up all the small streams from
one side of the mountains. It is full of junks and other craft and is
the center of much history, both for Tokyo as a city and for the whole
country.
TOKYO, April 4.
Ganjiro, the greatest actor from Osaka, is acting here now, and the show
was great. He did the scene among other things they did in New York
under the name of "Bushido." A dance by a fox who had taken the form of
a man was a wonderful thing. There is no use in trying to describe it.
It was not just slow posturings, like the other Japanese dances we have
seen, nor was it as wild as the Russian dancers; he did it alone, no
companion, male or female. But it was as free as the Russian and much
more classic at the same time. You will never realize what the human
hand and arm can do until you see this. He put on a number of masks and
then acted or danced according to the type of mask he had on. He can do
an animal's motions without any clawing--as graceful and lithe as a cat.
He is a son of an old man Ganjiro.
Our last days here are rather crowded and we aren't going to get the
things done that should be done. Cherry blossoms are at their
height--another thing indescribable, but if dogwood trees were bigger
and the blossoms were tinged with pink without being pink it would give
the effect more than anything else I know. The indescribable part is the
tree full of blossoms without leaves; of course you get that in the
magnolias, but they are coarse where the cherry is delicate. We went to
a museum to-day, which is finer in some respects than the Imperial; gods
till you can't rest, and wonderful Chinese things, everything except
paintings.
TOKYO, April 8.
We are actually packing up and get away to-morrow morning at 8:30--we
travel all day, the first part till four o'clock on the fastest train in
Japan. The ordinary trains make about fifteen miles an hour, Japan
having unfortunately adopted narrow gauge in early days and going on the
well-known principle of safety first. We have had various and sundry
experiences since writing, the most interesting being on Sunday, when we
were taken into the country both to see the cherry blossoms and the
merry-makers; the time is a kind of a carnival and mild saturnalia based
on bright clothes, and wigs, and sake, about ninety per cent sake.
There were a few besides ourselves not intoxicated, but not many.
Everybody practiced whatever English he knew on us, one dressed-up
fellow informing us "I Chrallie Chaplin," and he was as good an
imitation as most. Aside from one fight we saw no rudeness and not much
boisterousness, the mental effect being apparently to make them
confidential and demonstrative. Usually they are very reserved with one
another, but Sunday it looked as if they were telling each other all
their deepest secrets and life ambitions. Our host of the day laughed
most benevolently all the time, not excluding when a fellow dressed in
bright red woman's clothes insisted on riding on the running board. They
get drunk so seldom that it didn't appeal to him so much as a drunk as
it did as a popular festival; the people really were happy.
There were miles of trees planted each side of a canal that supplies
Tokyo with water, all kinds of trees and in all stages of development,
from no blossoms to full, no leaf and beautiful little pink leaves. The
blossoms are dropping, it is almost a mild snowfall, and yet the trees
seem full.
Yesterday we went to the theater again, the Imperial, a party of ten
filling two boxes. We were taken behind the scenes and shown the green
rooms, etc., and introduced to an actor and to his son, about eleven,
who appeared on the stage later and did a very pretty dance. He had a
teacher in the room and was doing his Chinese writing lesson, never
looked up till he was spoken to, about the handsomest and most
intelligent looking lad I have seen in Japan. Acting is practically an
hereditary profession here. I doubt if an outsider not trained from
early childhood could possibly do the acting anyway, and I don't think
the guild would let him break in if he could, though one man of British
extraction has been quite successful on the Japanese stage. We saw some
very interesting things yesterday, including dances, and learned that
they are very anxious to come to America, but they want a patron. If the
scenes were selected with great care to take those that have lots of
action and not so much talking, and the libretto was carefully
explained, they could make a hit in New York at least.
Our other blowout was the other evening at a Japanese classic tea house,
a part of a Noh dance for entertainment and a twelve-course meal or so.
The most interesting thing though is talking to people. On the whole I
think we have a chance to see people who know Japan much better than
most. We haven't been officialized and putting the different things
together I think we have as good an acquaintance with the social
conditions as anybody would be likely to get in eight weeks. An
experienced journalist could get it, so far as information is concerned,
in a few days, but I think things have to be soaked in by cumulative
impressions to get the feel of the thing and the background. When they
told me first that this was a great psychological moment, that
everything was critical and crucial, I didn't know what they meant, and
I could hardly put it in words now, any more than they did, but I know
inside of me. There are few external signs of a change, but Japan is
nearly in the condition she was in during the first years of contact and
opening up of things fifty or so years ago, so far as the mental
readiness for change is concerned, and the next few years may see rapid
social changes.
NARA, April 12.