I thought to myself--'What a wicked little thing I am ever to get angry

with Polly Jane, when she isn't a bit selfish, and always ready to do

good. It's real hard to give up her walk, for John teaches three

evenings in the week, and can't always get a chance to go with her!' So

I spoke as pleasant as I could, and kissed her for good night, and then

set out to walk home with Race Miller.

I have been through Rocky Hollow a great many times, but I shall never

forget that walk! The evening was clear and bright, but it was pretty

dark in among the willows. Race put out his hand once or twice to help

me over a big stone or log, and said:

'Take care, Dimpey! don't go so fast, or you'll hurt your little feet

against the stones.'

My feet are not so very little, but I expect he thought so because his

own are so big. I suppose it was foolish, but he seemed such a stout,

strong fellow, I felt as if he wanted to take me up, and carry me like a

baby; but may be he never thought of such a thing.

When we got out in the road it looked quite light; there was a glow on

the sky where the sun had gone down, and one bright star had come out

just over Spring Mountain, and seemed as if it was keeping watch over

the spring--I mean the spring on the top of the mountain that gives it

its name. Everything was still, except the crickets that kept up a great

singing among the trees. I always liked to be out in the starlight, and

should have felt happy then, only things had gone crooked with me all

day, and nothing seemed to please me. Uncle Ezra--he's our minister, and

one of the best men that ever lived--_he_ says it's always so when we

haven't done right ourselves--and I really believe it is--for I remember

how discontented I felt that night.

Presently Race spoke:

'See that star over the mountain, Dimpey! don't it look handsome up

there all alone? By the by, who is going to wait on you to the

picnic--you didn't say, did you?'

I was so vexed at the question, I'd a great mind to answer,'It's none of

_your_ business, Race Miller, who I go with,' but just then, I can't

tell why, the thoughts I'd had in the morning out in the orchard all

came back to me, and I remembered how Race had given up coming to ask me

because his mother wanted him; and then I thought how good he was to his

mother, and waited on her as if she was a pretty young girl. And what

would _my_ mother say, if she was living, to hear me speak so. Father

always said _she_ never gave any one a cross word in her life! I looked

up at the star, and it appeared to me that mother might be up there

watching me, and knowing all my thoughts; and instead of answering Race,

I put down my head and burst out crying. I'd wanted to have a good hard

cry all day, and now I would have given the world to stop, and I

couldn't.

'Why, Dimpey!' said Race, 'what _is_ the matter?'

I couldn't speak; we were passing a big maple tree, and I stopped and

hid my face against it, so that Race couldn't see it. He let me cry a

few minutes, and then took hold of my hand as gentle as a little child,

and whispered, 'Don't cry, Dimpey! I can't bear it. I'm afraid I shall

do something rash, if you don't stop soon!'

I didn't know what he meant by 'something _rash_,' but his voice sounded

so earnest, it frightened me. I took my hand out of his, and wiped my

eyes; and then I said, 'It's very shallow to cry when one's head aches;

but I couldn't help it.'

'Does your head ache, Dimpey?' said Race; 'oh, how sorry I am I haven't

my wagon here. I'm afraid you can't walk home.'

Now, my head _did_ ache; but it was because I had been crying; but you

see, if one leaves the truth ever so little, how deceitful one has to be

to keep it up. I felt real _mean_ when Race showed so much concern about

me, and told him I could walk very well.

'Won't you take my arm?' said he; 'that will help you.'

I couldn't refuse, though I was dreadfully afraid we might meet

somebody. We walked on in silence for a while, and I could feel Race's

heart beat against my hand that lay on his arm, for he held me close to

his side, as if I was in danger of falling. Presently he said:

'I only asked who you were going with, Dimpey, because I wanted you to

have a good time; if I can't have _your_ company, I don't care to go;

but I hoped you would enjoy yourself.'

Race spoke so honest it made me feel ashamed of my ugly spirit, and I

answered:

'Edward Hassel asked me to go with _him_; but father's got a notion he

drives too fast, and perhaps he won't let me ride with him.'

I felt Race give a kind of shiver; and when he spoke again, his voice

trembled like everything.

'Dimpey!' said he, 'you musn't think I'm jealous of Ned; I want to see

you happy, but I _am_ sorry he asked you first, for it's a dangerous

road up the mountain, and Ned _does_ drive too reckless, that's a fact;

I hope he don't mean to take them young sorrels of his?'

Now, I know I ought to have told Race the whole truth; but I was so

afraid he might say something to father; I only answered:

'Oh, I guess Ned will be careful enough; he goes up to High Farm very

often, and his horses are used to the road.'

'Yes,' said Race; 'but the worst part is past High Farm; however,

perhaps he'll be careful; so don't say that I interfered, Dimpey; for I

don't want any words with Ned.'

He didn't say anything after that until we got to our gate, and then he

spoke out so sudden, he made me start.

'Dimpey, if you knew--'

I don't know what he meant to say, for father was sitting on the

doorstep, and called out:

'Is that _you_, Polly?'

'It's Dimpey, father,' said I. 'Widow Burt is very sick, and needs

watchers; and Mrs. Miller and Polly Jane are going to sit up with her

to-night.'

So we came in; and after talking a few minutes with father, Race went

home.

I was up bright and early next morning, and worked as smart as I could

to get things out of the way before Polly Jane came; for I knew she'd be

tired, and she always would take hold till the work was done, no matter

_how_ tired she was. While I was ironing, Calanthy went in the milkroom

to work over the butter, so I had the kitchen to myself; and having no

one to talk to me, I kept thinking of all that happened the night

before. I had my own share of curiosity, and I couldn't help wondering

what Race Miller had been going to say when father interrupted him: 'If

I only knew'--what? Was it something about Ned, or himself? I turned it

over in my mind twenty times, like a sheet of paper; but the same side

always came up, and there was nothing on it.

It was ten o'clock before Polly Jane got home, and I was right glad I'd

worked so hard, for she looked worn out--and no wonder! Calanthy had

some nice hot coffee and cream cakes ready for her; but she was so

sleepy she could hardly eat anything. She said that Mrs. Burt had passed

a miserable night, and toward morning had got out of her head, and was

so wild and restless they could scarcely keep her in the bed. As soon as

it was light they sent Jim for Dr. Basset, and he gave her a strong dose

of morphine. Mrs. Miller had to go home, and when Mrs. Burt fell asleep,

Polly left Jim to watch her--he was as faithful as a dog, poor

fellow!--and went in to Preston to try and get somebody to stay with her

through the day. Polly Jane went first to 'Squire Stevens's, thinking

that Abby Matilda had less housework to do than most of the girls; her

mother kept a hired woman, and perhaps she'd be willing to go for _one_

day; but Abby was afraid of catching the fever, and said 'they'd better

have Widow Burt taken to the poorhouse at once, for _nobody_ would like

to stay in that damp Hollow and take care of her, poking their eyes out

in the dismal old house!'

'I was so provoked with the unfeelin' thing,' said Polly Jane, that I

told her 'I didn't know as the damp would hurt her _bright_ eyes any

more than my _dull_ ones; and if the house was dismal, so much the more

it needed some one to brighten it up.' I didn't waste many words on her,

however, but went on to Mr. Mill's as fast as I could; but for a wonder,

Rhody wasn't home; her cousin Hepsy came up from Four Corners the day

before, and carried her off to see their aunt Colborn, and she wouldn't

be home until Saturday. I don't know what's to be done, Calanthy, unless

you can think of some one we can hire for a nurse; the doctor says Mrs.

Burt's going to have a hard fit o' sickness, and needs good care every

minute.'

Calanthy sat down on the settee; she isn't very strong, as I told you,

and has to rest considerable; but she's such a good manager, she gets

through more work than many a ruggeder one; and when she's puzzled she

always drops down on that old settee a minute or two, and she's sure to

think the matter out directly. Presently she said:

'Why wouldn't Betsy Mix do? She makes store shirts now, you know, and

she could bring her sewing with her. I dare say she'd like a change of

work, she _sits_ so much.'

'Yes!' said Polly Jane; 'but who's to go after her? the boys are too

busy haying, and want the horses besides; oh, come to think, I guess we

can manage it. I'll run 'round to the schoolhouse and tell John, and he

can dismiss a little earlier at noon, and get Mrs. Miller to lend him

her wagon and old Bob. I saw Bob in the pasture as I came along; and if

Betsy will come, John can drive her right down to the Hollow, and she

and Jim can get along to-night, at any rate.'

'I'll go and tell John,' said I; 'you're too tired, Polly.'

But Polly Jane insisted upon seeing John herself; and when I thought of

his disappointment the night before, I didn't wonder, so I said no more.

Calanthy filled a basket with things to make Betsy Mix comfortable, and

John went after her and took her down to Widow Burt's; when he came

back, he said he left Mrs. Burt more quiet, and poor Jim quite happy

helping Betsy get dinner ready for herself and him. Calanthy had put a

dried apple pie in the basket; and when Jim saw _that_, he sniggered in

his simple way, and called out:

'Golly! Miss Mix! a piece o' that air pie will taste good, _weont_ it,

now?'

We all laughed hard at Jim's speech; and then John went away, and Polly

Jane consented to lie down and rest.

After dinner was cleared away, I set to work to trim my hat. I'd found a

real pretty ribbon at the store--brown, with bright blue stripes.

Perhaps I gave a _little_ too much for it; but it was a great deal

handsomer than the others they had, and then it was a better quality;

and a good ribbon _wears_ twice as long as a poor one, so it comes to

about the same thing in the end. As soon as I had fastened the rosettes

at the ears, I tried it on to see how it looked. It was so becoming,

that I thought to myself, 'When I get on my blue muslin, and a white

ruffled mantilla, and _this hat_, I shall look as well as any one at the

picnic!' I suppose you think I was a _vain_ little thing, and so I was,

but I hope I've got over it now.

Polly Jane had a good long sleep, and woke up as bright as a button.

And, when John Morgan came over after tea, they started for a walk, as

happy as could be. I stood in the door, as they went out the gate, and I

thought, 'John _is_ a good young man, that's certain, but I _do_ wish he

was rather better looking. I don't see how Polly can fancy him for a

steady beau.' Just at that minute up galloped Ned Hassel on the gray

sorrel. He saw me at the door, I know, though I ran into the parlor, and

took up my stocking, and began to knit it as fast as I could. He made

his horse dance and caper before he got off. More fool he! for father

sat on the porch, and was looking at him all the time! When he came in,

he had a beautiful color in his cheeks, and his eyes were as bright as

diamonds; and, as he pushed the hair off his forehead, and said 'Good

evening,' he looked as handsome as a picture, and I thought I was

_almost_ in love with him. Much I knew about love, _then_. But we've all

got to learn.

After talking to father and the boys about the harvest, and the

election, and such things, he turned to me and said:

'Will you ride with me to the picnic, next week, Dimpey?'

I looked at father, and he answered:

'I think you've chosen a dangerous place for your picnic, Ned! When

young people get in a frolic, I'd rather it wouldn't be on Spring

Mountain.'

'Oh! there's no danger,' said Ned, 'I go up to High Farm two or three

times a week, and I never had any accident.'

'Yes,' said brother Joe, 'but we're not going to have the picnic at High

Farm. The road does well enough till you get past there; and _I_ think

we'd better walk the rest of the way.'

'How would we get the provisions up, I wonder?' said Ned. 'It would

break our backs to lug the baskets to the top of the mountain. I, for

one, wouldn't undertake it at _any_ price!'

Father looked vexed, and said, 'Young men's backs must be weak

now-a-days. I think it's a risky thing to drive up to the Spring, and

I'd rather Dimpey wouldn't go _this_ time.'

I felt the tears come in my eyes, and I couldn't speak. Ned turned very

red, and said nothing for a minute or two; then he spoke quite mild and

pleasant:

'Can't you persuade your father to let you go with me, Dimpey? I promise

to take the _best_ of care of you!'

I suppose father noticed that I felt bad, for he said, 'Do you want to

go very much, Dimpey?'

I stammered out, 'Yes, sir, I'd like to go with the rest, if you was

willing.'

'Well then, Ned,' said father, 'Dimpey may go, on one condition, that

you drive your brown mare, and not either of them young horses.'

'The brown mare!' said Ned. 'Why, she's the slowest old poke in the

county. It would take her till sundown to get there, and there wouldn't

be much fun in that!'

'Very well,' said father, quite determined like, 'I shan't risk my

Dimpey's neck on top of Spring Mountain after anything faster. So you

can do as you please.'

Ned started up, and went right out the front door without saying a word!

I couldn't believe my senses, that he was going off in that way--so

disrespectful to father! I heard him speaking to his horse; and Bill

remarked, 'Well, I've seen _manners_ before, but this beats all!' Father

didn't open his lips; and, in a few minutes, Ned came back, and stood in

the doorway.

'I thought that Lightning had got unhitched,' said he, 'but he's only a

little uneasy. Good night, Mr. Swift, I'll be up here with the brown

mare bright and early next Wednesday. The boys agreed to meet at the hay

scales, at ten o'clock, and start from there, but the mare's so slow,

I'll have to be in time. Could you get ready by half past nine, Dimpey?'

I said I could, and felt very happy that Ned had come back. So he said

good night to me and the boys, and went off. When he was gone, Joe spoke

out:

'I wonder if one of the Hassels ever told the truth; if he did, I guess

it was by accident. Ned knew well enough that nothing ailed his horse,

but he was so mad, he had to go out doors, for fear he'd boil over. If I

was you, Dimpey, I wouldn't encourage him to come here much; for he's as

deceitful as a cat-a-mountain!'

'Yes,' said father, 'I am afraid he's a chip of the old block; but I've

passed my word you shall go with him, Dimpey, and I won't take it back,

though I'd rather see you keep company with any other young man in

Preston; that's a fact! I promised your Uncle Ezra I'd never have any

more angry words with old Hassel, and I don't mean to. But I don't care

to have any further dealings with the family than I can help. They're a

slippery set. Reach me the Bible, Dimpey! and I'll get ready for bed.'

So father read the psalm, 'Fret not thyself because of evil doers.' I

think he picked it out on purpose; and then he prayed that we might all

lead better lives, and live in Christian fellowship with each other.

Now the truth was, he and Mr. Hassel had quarrelled long ago, about some

land that Mr. Hassel had sold him. The title wasn't good, and father

always thought Mr. Hassel knew it when he sold the land. They had a

great many words about it, and put it into law; and father went to a

good deal of expense and trouble. He and Mr. Hassel didn't speak for

some time. But Uncle Ezra talked to him, and got him to be reconciled to

his enemy. It all happened when I was a child, and I never just knew the

rights of it. But I know that father was very glad when Mr. Hassel sold

his farm joining ours, and bought another at the foot of Spring

Mountain, where he has lived ever since. It troubled me very much that

our folks felt so set against the family; for Ned was the best-looking

young man in our place, and had such a dashing sort of a way with him,

that he took my fancy considerable, and I must confess I was rather

blind to his faults. I went to sleep that night with my head full of

the picnic, and dreamed that I rode up the mountain on Ned's Lightning,

and just as I got to the steepest part, the horse gave a jump, and

tumbled me over its head right down the side of the mountain; and as I

felt myself rolling down, down, down, I screamed so that I woke myself

up, and Calanthy too, who ran in from her room to shake me. I often

scream out in that way, if I have a bad dream. But I didn't tell the

girls what I was dreaming about.

The next morning, as soon as the work was done, Polly Jane said she

would go down to Rocky Hollow, and see how Widow Burt was getting on,

and if Betsy Mix could do for her. She didn't get back to dinner, and

Calanthy began to feel so uneasy, she said she would go herself and see

what was the matter. I begged her to send _me_ instead, for I knew she

couldn't bear such a long walk in the middle of the day. Father and the

boys had both our steady horses in the hay field, and I couldn't drive

the colt, so there was no way to ride. So at last she consented I should

go, but told me to take her big parasol, and get back as soon as I

could. When I got near the Hollow, I met Dr. Basset. He stopped his

horse and said:

'Mrs. Burt is very sick, Dimpey; and I'm going after a woman to help

Betsy Mix take care of her. She can't get along without help. Polly Jane

will stay till sundown, but _you_ can't do any good. So, you'd better

get in, and ride back with me; I'm going past your house.'

I was glad of a chance to ride home, so I got in the wagon, and asked

Dr. Basset if he thought Widow Burt wouldn't live?

'I can't say for _that_,' said he; 'but she's a mighty sick woman _now_.

She was out of her mind all last night, and I don't know what Betsy

would have done if Race Miller hadn't come in. He saw how Mrs. Burt was,

and stayed through the night, and he's so strong he could hold her when

Betsy couldn't manage. Once she jumped out of bed, and wanted to go sit

in the Hollow, and poor Jim would have let her climb a tree if she had a

mind to. But Race lifted her back in the bed, and sang hymns to her till

she was quiet. You know what a good voice he has. Betsy says it seemed

to act like opium on Mrs. Burt!'

'What would become of Jim if she should die, doctor?' said I.

'The Lord only knows, Dimpey. I'm afraid he'd have to go to the

poorhouse. I always hoped he'd be taken _first_; but we don't know what

is best, and God does.'

Doctor Basset is a real feeling man. I can't see what Preston would do

without him. So he took me home, and, after tea, Biel harnessed the

colt, and went after Polly Jane. She said that Doctor Basset had been

over to Pine Hill, and brought Mrs. Jessop back with him. She's a

strong, hearty woman, and has had experience in fevers, and knows just

what to do. The doctor told Jim he must mind what she said, if he wanted

his mother to get well; and she had set him to work directly, as it was

better to keep him busy.

'But,' said Polly Jane, 'I never saw such a fellow in time of trouble as

Race Miller. He had been busy by daylight clearing up around the house,

and making things look comfortable. You'd hardly know the old place if

you could see it now. He came in again this afternoon, and I told him I

didn't know how he could spare so much time from his own work; but he

said:

'Why, you know, Polly, I've let out a part of our farm on shares this

year, so I haven't as much hay to get in as usual, and I finished haying

yesterday. Besides, Hiram is a right smart fellow, and won't neglect

anything if I _am_ away.'

He wouldn't take any credit for what he'd done, but I thought to myself,

'I should think that any man who wasn't a real _shirk_, would be

ashamed not to be smart if _you_ was looking at him!'

This was Wednesday. Mrs. Burt's fever never broke till next Monday,

which was the ninth day, and then she was so weak they hardly dared

speak in her room, and the doctor said her life depended on good

nursing. Betsy Mix gave out, and went home; but Mrs. Jessop stayed. She

could get along if any of the neighbors would come in for a few hours

every day, and let her go to sleep. So, Mrs. Miller and Polly Jane

helped her; and when Rhody Mills got back she went right out to the

Hollow, and insisted on watching one night. The neighbors all sent

things to keep the pot boiling, and I don't believe poor Jim ever lived

so well or saw as much company in his life before. 'Squire Stevens's

folks didn't help any, except one day Mrs. Stevens sent a loaf of bread

that was so heavy Mrs. Jessop gave it to the pig. But then some people

never have their bread _light_, you know; and perhaps she sent the best

she had.

Well, Wednesday was the day for the picnic! John Morgan wanted to hire a

wagon, and take Polly Jane; but she was tired going backward and forward

to Rocky Hollow, and didn't care to go. Joe and Biel drove our steady

horses, and Cousin Nancy and Rhody Mills went with _them_. I couldn't

find out if Race Miller was going or not; but I didn't hear of his

inviting anybody else. Calanthy roasted a nice pair of chickens for us,

and her biscuits were as light as a feather _this_ time, and I made some

_real nice_ cake, and Calanthy iced it for me; it looked beautiful!

Polly Jane came home from the Hollow Tuesday afternoon, and said that

Widow Burt had her senses, and was lying still and comfortable. She

appeared to know all that had been done for her, and was very thankful;

but Dr. Basset had forbidden her to speak much. He let her take hold of

Jim's hand and tell him she felt better, and the poor fellow went out in

the shed, and cried like a baby. Race Miller stepped in just then. He

always seemed to happen along at the right minute, and he set Jim to

work cleaning some fish he'd caught. The thought of a good dinner soon

made Jim laugh again; but that's the way with simpletons, you know.

I do believe there never _was_ a lovelier morning than that Wednesday.

It was as clear as a bell, but not nearly as hot as the week before. If

the day had been made on purpose for a picnic, it couldn't have been a

better one. I felt so glad Widow Burt was like to get well, and that

father had consented to let me ride with Ned Hassel, and that my cake

was so handsome, and everything else so good, I didn't know how to be

happy enough! I went singing about the house till it was time to dress

myself, and when I got on my blue muslin and my clean white mantilla,

and had smoothed my hair till it shone like satin under the new rosettes

in my round hat, I _did_ think I looked pretty nice. I couldn't help it;

and when Ned drove up a little after nine o'clock, I felt as if all was

going right at last. The girls kissed me good-by, and when father helped

me in the wagon, I saw the tears standing in his eyes. He always said I

favored mother very much, and I suppose he was thinking of _her_. He

only said:

'Take good care of Dimpey, Ned!'

'Yes, sir,' said Ned, 'I will.'

And as I took my seat at his side, he whispered:

'If there's a prettier girl at this picnic than Dimpey Swift, I'd like

to see her. You look like an angel, Dimpey! but I hope you haven't any

_wings_, for we couldn't spare you just now!'

I was delighted at this nonsense; but I was young and foolish, and

didn't sense what a goose Ned was with all his fine compliments.

The brown mare went along so fast, I thought we would not be much behind

the rest of the company after all; and when we got to the hay scales,

there was no one there! Ned stopped a minute, and then he said:

'Dimpey, I've got some currant wine in my basket; but I forgot the wine

glasses. I think we'd better drive on to our house and get them, and we

can wait there till the others come up.'

'But,' said I, 'you appointed to meet _here_. Won't they wait for you?'

'That's true. Just hold the lines, and I'll run in to Mr. Smith's, and

ask him to tell them we've gone on, and will meet them at the foot of

the mountain.'

So Ned ran in to Mr. Smith's, and out again in two seconds, and when he

took the lines, he started off at such a rate, I wondered what possessed

him, as we had plenty of time. However, I like to ride fast, as I said

before; and to tell the truth, Ned was talking to me all the way about

'my beautiful eyes, and how proud he should feel if he had a wife with

_my_ complexion;' and he asked me, 'if I didn't think we'd make a

handsome _team_ if we were in one harness,' and all _such_ speeches, so

that I got quite bewildered-like, and might have been riding behind a

humpbacked camel without knowing it!

When we got to Mr. Hassel's, the old man was sitting on the steps

reading the newspaper. He came to the gate to speak to us, and Ned said:

'You had better go in, and wait, Dimpey; the boys will not be here yet a

while, and I want to fix my wagon more comfortable before we start to go

up to the mountain.'

So Mr. Hassel helped me out, and asked me into the house. I should have

liked to stay on the steps, where I could see the picnickers as they

came along; but he went into the living room, which was at the back of

the house, and I followed him. I sat down, and he began to talk of all

sorts of things. I answered as well as I could, and pretty soon I heard

some one shout at the front gate:

'Hallo, Ned! here we are! Where's your team?'

I heard Ned answer: 'Hallo!' and then run around the house. I couldn't

hear what more he said; and then there was a great laughing, and a

scraping of wheels, as if they were all driving past. I sat still,

wondering why Ned didn't come for me. My face was so red when I went in

the house, that I hardly dared to look at Mr. Hassel; but now I looked

up suddenly, and he sat looking at me with such a strange sort of smile,

I didn't know what to make of it. It's likely he knew well enough--but

never mind that _now_.

Presently there was a great cracking of a whip and a whoaing in the door

yard. I heard wheels moving fast, and Ned looked in the room, and said:

'Come, Dimpey! let's be off; the boys have gone on ahead, but we'll soon

catch them up.'

I followed him out to the gate; the wagon was there, and I was

astonished to see a _pair_ of horses harnessed to it, and a man standing

at their heads; but before I had time to think, Ned had lifted me in,

jumped into his seat, and taken up the lines. We were off like a shot,

and I was actually riding behind the fast sorrels!

'Oh, Ned!' said I, 'what _does_ this mean? Didn't you promise father you

wouldn't drive these horses?'

'No,' said he, 'I didn't make any promise. I only said I'd be at your

house with the brown mare, and so I was; but I never said I'd drive her

up the mountain. The sorrels will go nicely, and the boys won't say

anything to your father, if you're not afraid.'

'But what would father say if he knew it; and Calanthy, too! Let me get

down, Ned. I can't ride with you.'

But the more I begged, the louder Ned laughed and urged his horses. The

ground seemed to fly from under the wagon, and in few minutes we caught

up to the company. Now I know I ought to have told brother Joe I was

riding against my will, and that I should have jumped out the moment I

got a chance, but I could not bear to let the girls know how Ned had

acted. So I sat still while he drove past them all; and I was even

wicked enough to feel a little proud as we passed Abby Matilda and her

beau! Ned kept making love to me all the way up to the farm. It sounded

well enough _then_, but it makes me sick to think of it now. The horses

went along like kittens, and he seemed to have complete management of

them, and when he came to steep places, he drove so carefully that I

could not feel as if there was any danger. It was very cool and pleasant

among the trees, and everything smelled so fresh and sweet, it was

delightful riding, and I tried not to think about father. Most of the

company left their wagons at High Farm, and walked the rest of the way;

but John Mills and Abby Matilda drove up to the top of the mountain, and

so did a few others. We got safely to the spring, and when Ned helped me

out of the wagon, he said:

'There now, Dimpey! don't the sorrels go beautiful? Your hair is just as

sleek as when we started, and your cheeks are only a little redder, but

that don't hurt 'em any.'

As he lifted me down, his face touched mine for a minute. I don't know

that he did it on purpose, but I shouldn't wonder! I was glad to stoop

down to the spring, and wet my cheeks, for they felt hot enough by this

time. However they had time to get cool while Ned was unharnessing his

horses, and presently Abby Matilda and her beau came along.

'Dear me, Dimpey,' said she, 'have you really got here without breaking

your bones, and with Mr. Hassel's wonderful team, too?'

I was so provoked at the mean thing--I know she was jealous because Ned

didn't ask _her_--that I never said a word; but Ned answered:

'My horses are not in the habit of breaking anybody's bones, Miss Abby,

and if they were, they wouldn't pick out the belle of Preston to

practise on--not while I'm master.'

Abby colored up, and flirted her head, as she always does when she's

angry; but the rest of the company began to come up, and nothing more

was said.

I'm not going to tell you much about the picnic, though it was a real

nice one, and in such a beautiful place. Every one says there's one of

the handsomest views in the world from Spring Mountain; you can see five

villages, and the river winds so pretty among the hills; then you can

count a great many church steeples, and there are such noble trees up

there, and nice, shady places, and rocks to sit on, that it's the very

spot for a picnic. We played plays, and told stories, and sang

considerable; our Biel is a funny little fellow, and can imitate almost

any animal: he kept us all laughing, till even Abby Matilda forgot her

airs, and was quite pleasant. Then we had a right good dinner--cold

chicken, and ham, and tongue, and lots of nice pies and cakes, and

plenty of currant wine and milk punch, and the clear, good water from

the spring. Calanthy's biscuits were so good everybody wanted them, and

my Washington cake was praised to the skies, and I was as happy as I

could be.

In the midst of the dinner our Joe spoke out--Joe _is_ good, but he

don't always know when to speak.

'Where is Race Miller, boys? I thought he was coming with us? He didn't

say nothing to the contrary, the other day.'

Ned Hassel was sitting next to me on the grass; he gave me a nudge, and

answered, 'I shouldn't wonder if Race has got the mitten from one of the

girls; I met him early this morning, and he looked as black as thunder.'

'Well,' said Abby Matilda--she _must_ have her say--'if I was a man, and

anyone gave me the mitten, I'd have too much spirit to show it by

keeping away from a picnic!'

'Pooh!' said Rhody Mills, 'what nonsense! like enough Race is hard at

work for his mother or somebody else. He's always ready to help anyone

that asks him.'

Well, the afternoon passed away, and when the sun began to get low, the

boys said it was time to be going home. While Ned was harnessing his

horses, something got tangled in the harness, and it took him a little

while to fix it, so that the others that were riding started first. I

saw Joe look back to see if we were coming, and that made me think of

father again; I had never deceived him in my life, and I couldn't bear

to think of it then; I wondered how Ned would manage, and whether our

boys would tell father about the horses, and I was glad we were behind

the rest, so that Ned would have to drive slowly, for the road was not

wide enough for teams to pass each other. Now the picnic was over I felt

very uncomfortable, and blamed myself more and more. However, we started

directly, and soon overtook the rest. As we drew up behind the wagon

that Abby Matilda was in, Ned said, 'What makes you so still, Dimpey;

haven't we had a real good time?'

'Yes,' said I; 'but I was thinking what father will say when he hears

you took the fast horses, after all!'

'What will he say? why, nothing, when he sees you safe and sound;

besides, what's the use of telling him anything about it; he won't ask

any questions when I take you home with the brown mare, and I'm sure Joe

and Biel won't be mean enough to speak of the sorrels.'

I tried to feel satisfied, though I knew it was wrong; but I thought to

myself, 'There's no help for it _now_.'

So we jogged along slowly till we came to a place where a thick clump of

elders divides the road into two paths; it is just at the steepest part

of the mountain, and the path on the left is very narrow, and right on

the edge of the precipice. At that minute Abby Matilda looked around,

and called out, in her spiteful way, 'It must be dreadful hard for

Thunder and Lightning to keep in the rear; what a pity we can't let you

pass us, _Mr._ Hassel!'

I suppose she vexed Ned, for he answered, 'Perhaps we _can_ do it if we

try, _Miss Stevens_,' and before I could speak he turned his horses into

the narrow part of the road! I looked down the side of the mountain, and

it made me feel so sick and giddy that I put out my hands and caught the

lines; this gave them a sudden jerk, the near horse started, and began

to back--Abby screamed, and that frightened him more--I felt the wheel

going over the edge--the bushes were close on the other side of the

wagon--there was no place to jump--Ned dropped the lines and sprang out

at the back--I remember seeing something break through the bushes at the

horses' heads, and that is the last I recollect, for I fainted away and

fell in the bottom of the wagon.

When I came to my senses I felt so strange and confused I did not know

where I was; my head had a dull pain in it, and when I touched it, I

found it was bandaged up, and my forehead felt sore and bruised. Some

one took hold of my hand, and I heard a sobbing; I opened my eyes, and

made out that I was on my own bed at home. Calanthy was standing by me,

and Polly Jane sat by the foot of the bed crying as if her heart would

break. I tried to think, but I couldn't get things right; and the picnic

seemed like something that had happened a great while ago.

'What is the matter, Polly?' said I; 'is anyone hurt? Tell father I

didn't mean to be deceitful; I'll go tell him myself.' I tried to sit

up, but I fell back on the pillow. Calanthy stooped down and kissed me,

and I heard her say, 'Lie still, my pet lamb. Father isn't angry with

you; he's stepped out a minute, but he'll be back soon; drink this, and

you'll soon be better.' She held a cup to my lips; I drank something,

and then fell asleep directly.

I wasn't able to sit up for several days, and they kept me very still,

and wouldn't let me ask questions; only Calanthy told me that Dr. Basset

said I'd had a great shock, and it would take me some time to get over

it. I had a cut on my forehead, too, but it healed up pretty soon. It

seemed as if Calanthy and Polly Jane couldn't do enough for me, and

whenever father came in the room he was as good to me as ever, and I

could see that he could hardly keep from crying when I spoke to him.

When I got well enough to sit in a rocking chair, and have my knitting

work, father came in one morning, and brought Uncle Ezra with him. I was

very glad to see uncle, though I was ashamed to have him know how vain

and wicked I'd been; but I'd thought a good deal while I was sick, and I

made up my mind to do right, whatever came of it. So I told him how

wrong I had acted, and how sorry I felt for it, and then I asked him to

tell me _how_ my life had been saved, and if any one was killed, and all

about the accident. I had my memory by that time, and recollected all I

have been telling.

Uncle Ezra took hold of my hand while I was speaking, and then he said,

'We have great reason to be thankful, my child, that we have you with us

yet; you've had a narrow escape; but I'm sure it will be such a lesson

to you that you'll never disobey your father again. You are young,

Dimpey, and may have many years to live; but I hope you'll always be our

own dear honest child, and make as good a woman as your mother was.'

Then Uncle Ezra told me that when Ned Hassel jumped out of his wagon,

leaving me in it--the coward!--Race Miller pushed his way through the

elder bushes, and caught the horses by their heads. They struggled, and

threw him down; but the off horse fell with him, and partly on him. This

jerked the wagon against the bushes, and the wheel, which was slipping

over the edge of the road, caught against a big stone, which held it a

minute. John Mills had jumped to the ground at that minute. He pitched

the seat out of Ned's wagon, and he and Biel dragged me out of the back

in less time than it takes to tell it. Then the traces all gave way, the

horse that had fallen struggled to his feet, the wagon went over, and

clattered down the side of the mountain, and the horses started to run,

but were stopped by some of the boys who were walking. I had struck my

head as I fell, and lay senseless, but our boys carried me down to High

Farm, and got a large wagon and a bed to put me on. They _do_ say Joe

pushed Ned Hassel out of the way, and dared him to touch me. In the mean

time, John Mills and the others helped up Race Miller; but one of his

arms was broken, and he was so faint he could not stand.

When Uncle Ezra told me this, I burst out crying, and felt as if I

should die with sorrow; but father comforted me, and said Race was doing

well, and was as cheerful as ever, and had asked them not to tell he was

hurt, for fear it might worry me. Now wasn't he a noble fellow; and what

did it matter if he _was_ homely? I felt some curiosity to know what had

become of Ned Hassel, for no one had mentioned him while I was sick, but

I didn't like to ask; however, I think father must have known my

thoughts, for just as he was going out of the room, he turned back, and

said:

'If you'd like to know anything about your 2.40 beau, Dimpey, he came up

here the day after the picnic to ask about you; but I told him your

mother's daughter didn't keep company with liars; and he'd better not

show his face inside my dooryard, unless he wanted the boys to put him

out. He blustered a little, but I guess he didn't think best to make

much noise in _this_ neighborhood; so he took himself off, and that's

the last of him.'

'Yes,' thought I, _I_ never want to see him again, I'm sure!'

The first time I went to meeting was on a pleasant Sunday afternoon, and

if ever any one felt really thankful, I think _I_ did. Uncle Ezra

preached a beautiful sermon, and every word of it seemed as if it was

meant on purpose for _me_. I hardly dared raise my eyes, but I saw that

Mrs. Miller was in her seat as usual, and I heard Race's voice among the

singers. When we came out, Mrs. Miller walked right up to me, and kissed

me before everybody. I had felt as though she must almost hate me; but

she looked so pleasant, it brought the tears into my eyes.

'Do you feel quite strong again, Dimpey?' said she; 'I've heard from you

every day; but I haven't been up to see you, because I thought you had

plenty of company, and I had my big boy to take care of.'

'Is Race's arm 'most well?' said I.

'Here he is,' said Mrs. Miller; 'ask him yourself.'

I turned around, and there stood Race. His arm was in a sling, and he

was paler than usual; but he smiled, and his eyes twinkled more than

ever; and, would you believe it, he actually looked handsome! I tried to

speak, and thank him for all he had done; but I choked, so I could

hardly say a word. He walked along by my side till we came to our

gate--it isn't far from the meeting house--then he said:

'Dimpey, will you do me a kindness?'

'Yes, Race,' I answered; 'I'd do you a hundred, if I knew how.'

'Well, then, just come over to our house, and take tea with mother;

she's been waiting on me so long, I want to do something to please her,

and I know you'll brighten her up nicely; _I'm_ such a dull fellow for

company, you know.'

I didn't _know_ any such thing; but I ran and asked Calanthy if I'd

better go, and she said 'Certainly.'

So I went home with Mrs. Miller and Race, and we had the snuggest little

tea that ever was. Mrs. Miller makes the best muffins I ever tasted, and

she had some ready mixed, and nothing to do but put them on the griddle.

After we had done tea, she told Race to sit down in her big chair by the

window, and not to stir out of it till she gave him leave. Then she gave

me an apron, and said I might help her wash up the tea things, if I

liked; of course, I was delighted to do it; and Race sat still, and

looked at us.

'What are you smiling at, Race?' said his mother--they always joked

together considerable.

'I was thinking,' said he, 'how funny it seems to sit here and be waited

on; take care I don't grow lazy, mother!'

Mrs. Miller laughed, and said: 'Well, I _am_ a little uneasy about

that--' and just then Hiram came in from milking, and she went into the

milkroom to strain the milk.

I was folding up my apron, and I thought I mightn't have another chance

to speak, so I said:

'I haven't thanked you yet, Race, for saving my life; but you believe I

_am_ thankful, don't you?'

'Come here, Dimpey,' said he.

I walked toward him, for I felt as if he had a right to ask me; he got

up from the big chair, and put me gently in it, and then took a little

bench and sat down close to my feet.

'Are you glad to live, Dimpey?' said he.

I looked at him in astonishment at such a strange question; but I saw

his eyes were full, and his lips trembling.

He said it again, 'Are you glad your life was spared, Dimpey?'

'Yes, to be sure,' said I; 'it would have been dreadful to die so

suddenly; and oh, think how our folks would have felt, if I had been

killed! And you too, Race! what could your mother do without _you?_ I am

so sorry you were hurt saving _me_, and so thankful it was no worse,'

and here my eyes ran over, and I stopped.

'Dimpey,' said Race, and his voice shook as it did that night in the

Hollow, '_I_ ought to be very thankful for my mother's sake, that God

has spared my life, and I hope I am _now_; but when I sat in the elder

bushes on Spring Mountain, and saw you sitting by the side of Ned

Hassel, and looking so sweet and innocent, I thought that the day you

married him would finish all _my_ happiness on earth, and I should have

nothing to live for but to take care of my good mother. You will tell me

the truth now, Dimpey, I'm sure--will that day _ever_ come?'

'_Never_, Race!' said I; 'the lying coward! has he _dared_ to say so?'

I started up from the chair; and, I don't know how it was, I fell into

Race's arms, and he sat down in the chair, and drew me on his knee as he

did when I was a little child; and looking down on his broken arm, it

seemed to me like my own old dolly, and I put my hands carefully around

it, as I did around my doll in my childish trouble.

* * * * *

It is two years now, since Race and I were married; and I believe no one

ever had a better husband! We live on the old homestead--it is one of

the pleasantest places in Preston--the mortgage is all paid off, and we

are as comfortable as any family need be. Mrs. Miller is as fond of me

as if I was her own born daughter, and everybody thinks our little Phebe

is almost too sweet to live--she is the picture of Race; but I think her

curly hair and saucy blue eyes make her the handsomest baby I ever saw.

Widow Burt and Jim have come away from the Hollow; last year Race put up

a new barn, and moved the old one down to the end of the lane--our boys

helped him fix it up for a house, and Mrs. Burt and Jim live in it. They

make baskets yet, and we find them very useful when we want extra help.

Mrs. Burt is stronger than before she was sick; and poor Jim almost

worships Race, and would run errands all day, if we asked him to--he

thinks there is nothing like our baby on the face of the earth; and

simple as he looks, she is always ready to go to him.

Race wouldn't tell me till after we were married, how he came to be

hiding in the bushes on the day of the picnic; he always said I must

_guess_--so you may guess too!

After all, I have reason to bless the day I went up Spring Mountain!

ENDURANCE.

At first did I almost despair,

And thought I _never_ it could bear--

And yet I have it borne till now:

But only never ask me _how!_

--HEINE.

JAPANESE FOREIGN RELATIONS.

[The article we are now about to offer our readers is from the pen

of the well-known and highly-esteemed Dr. MACGOWAN, Honorary Member

of the Archæological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland,

Corresponding Member of the Société Impériale Zoologique

d'Acclimation, Asiatic Society of Bengal, of the Agricultural and

Horticultural Society of India, Ethnological Society of London,

American Oriental Society, &c., &c., who was for more than twenty

years a resident of the far East, of China and Japan. He has

lectured on China and Japan before the most erudite audiences, and

has never failed to give entire satisfaction. His lectures were

delivered in New York under the auspices of the Geographical and

Statistical Society, in compliance with an invitation drawn up by

Chancellor Ferris, and signed by President King of Columbia

College, Hon. Townsend Harris, late U. S. Minister to Japan, Hon.

George Bancroft, Hon. Luther Bradish, Hon. Judge Clerke, Hon.

George Opdyke, and other prominent citizens.

At the conclusion of the course, the following resolution,

presented by the Rev. Dr. Prime, was passed unanimously:

'_Resolved_, That this audience has listened with

great satisfaction, instruction, and delight, to the

valuable and highly entertaining lectures of Dr.

MACGOWAN on Japan, and that our thanks are

eminently due to him for imparting to us in so attractive

a form the results of his extensive travel, illustrated

with curious and elegant works of nature and art from

that remarkable empire.'

'On commencing his course of lectures in the Cooper

Institute, Dr. MACGOWAN was introduced by the

Hon. Judge Daly, who appeared as the representative of

the Geographical and Statistical Society. Judge Daly said

that 'the lecturer came before his countrymen with a

well-earned European reputation, that his investigations

had attracted much attention abroad, and in the matter

of physical geography his researches were referred to

in Humboldt's _Cosmos_, and his discovery and

description of the egre or bore of the Tsien-tang River

in China, occupies a large space in Maury's '_Physical

Geography of the Sea_.'' Besides giving the Society's

cordial commendation of Dr. MACGOWAN'S Lectures,

the Judge expressed on the part of the Society, a deep

sense of the importance in a national point of view of

the lecturer's projected exploration in the far

East.'-_Abridged Report_.

We could fill pages with such testimonials. We extract the

following from notices of Dr. MACGOWAN'S lectures in Europe:

'A large number of Members of Parliament, A. H. Layard,

Richard Cobden, John Bright, Sir M. Peto, T. B.

Horsfall, Lord Alfred Churchill, and others joined in

commending the lectures to Chambers of Commerce,

Colleges, Literary and Mechanics' Institutions; and

they were commended also to Young Men's Christian

Associations by the Archbishop of Canterbury.

'They were delivered in various parts of the United

Kingdom under the chairmanship of the Right Hon. the

Earl of Shaftesbury, the Most Noble the Marquis of

Cholmondeley, the Right Hon. the Earl of Cavan, the

Right Hon. Lord Lyttleton, the Right Hon. Earl

Strangford, Lord Henry Cholmondeley, the Hon. A.

Kinnaird, M. P., Sir J. F. Davis, Bart., Sir Henry

Havelock, Bart., Sir J. Coleridge, Bart., Sir Roderick

I. Murchison, the Right Hon. and Right Rev. Lord

Auckland, Bishop of Bath and Wells, the Lord Bishop of

Oxford, the Bishop of Victoria, the Hon. and Rev. B. W.

Noel, the Rev. Canon McNeille, Rev. C. H. Spurgeon,

General Alexander, General Lawrence, Hon. Capt. Maude,

R. N., and other public men.

'In Scotland, the Right Hon. the Earl of Kintore, Rev.

Dr. Guthrie, Professor Sampson, Dr. Bell, and the

Provosts of the principal towns.

'In Ireland, His Grace the Archbishop of Dublin, Lord

Gough, Lord Roden, Lord Talbot de Malahide, the Right

Hon. Judge Crampton, Sir W. Hamilton, Astronomer Royal,

and the Right Hon. J. Whiteside, M. P. Under the

auspices of the Lord Lieutenant, Earl of Carlisle.'

In China, while occupied as Medical Missionary and United States

Consul, he published a newspaper in the Chinese language; in

London, also, he rendered valuable service in vindicating our

Government from the attacks of Lord Brougham and Sir John Bowring.

In all his various efforts, Dr. MACGOWAN received the

highest commendation from the press, as well as from his learned

audiences. We therefore call the attention of our readers to the

present essay, on the important subject of 'Japanese Foreign

Relations,' as from the pen of one familiar with the history and

bearing of the questions of which he treats.--ED. CONTINENTAL.]

Strolling recently from Nagasaki toward the volcanic mountain Simabara,

the writer was compelled to retrace his steps by the yaconins, or guards

of the prince of Fizen, and thus he failed to accomplish the object he

had in view--that of searching for the monument erected, it is said, to

commemorate the expulsion of foreigners from Japan, and the suppression

of Christianity, bearing an impious inscription, forbidding Christians

and the God of the Christians from ever appearing in that 'Eden Minor.'

Whether the monument still exists or not, it is certain that the spirit

of the edict of Gongen Sama, which expelled Europeans forever from the

country, and enjoined natives to slay foreigners, still actuates the

ruling classes in the insular empire of the Pacific. Hence the

exclamation of the daring and potent prince of Kago, who, in 1853, when

the American treaty was before the Daimios, in council, placing his hand

upon the hilts of his swords, said: 'Rather than admit foreigners into

the country, let us die fighting.' He was overruled--a decade has

elapsed, and his forebodings of evil have been realized. One of the

results of the concession to Americans has been a despatch from Earl

Russell to the British minister at Yedo, which says: 'It would be better

that the Tycoon's palace should be destroyed than that our rightful

position by treaty should be weakened or impaired.' When a British

minister threatens to burn a palace, Eastern Asiatics know full well

that the torch will be preceded by a bombardment and followed by

_looting_, which in Anglo-Indian parlance means plundering. Thirteen

ships of war, two of them French, are at Yokahama, within a few hours'

sail of the palace which adorns Yedo, the proud metropolis of the 'Land

of the Rising Sun,' awaiting an answer to a British ultimatum.

As the Japanese are neighbors of our countrymen whose homes are on our

Pacific coast, we should not be so absorbed in the struggle to maintain

our nationality as to be unmindful of the perils by which they are

surrounded. While the subjugation of Mexico, by one of the Allied

Powers, which aims at a general protectorate of the East, causes us

anxiety, the prospective invasion of Japan by the other power cannot but

be regarded by us with solicitude, for in its results it promises to

open another 'neutral' port to facilitate the operations of other

_Nashvilles_ and _Alabamas_ against our commerce. Assuming that we shall

speedily avert the impending danger of foreign domination involved in

the present contest, the various questions affecting American interests

in Eastern Asia become fitting subjects for discussion, and at this

moment the foreign relations of Japan particularly demand consideration.

At one period of their history, the foreign relations of the Japanese

were of the most amicable character. In their treatment of the Europeans

who first visited them, they were courteous and liberal. For a period of

ninety years the Portuguese carried on a highly lucrative commerce, by

which they built up the port of Macao, which has been styled the

brightest jewel in the Lusitanian crown. To Xavier and his

co-religionists they extended a cordial welcome. Bringing, as did the

missionaries, a similar but more imposing ritual, with dogmas in many

points analogous, but accompanied with the sublime teachings of the

gospel, the propagation of the new faith was so facile, that a single

generation might have witnessed the nominal christianization of the

entire empire, had not fatal dissensions arisen among the different

orders of the Portuguese, Spanish, and Italian missionaries. In

consequence of these dissensions the country was closed to foreign

commerce and religion for more than two centuries. A like cause led to

the closing of China to Christian nations.

The edicts of Gongen Sama (founder of the reigning Tycoon family) not

only prohibited the visit of any foreigner under penalty of death, but

condemned to death any native who might return to Japan after going

abroad, or being driven to another land by a storm. The vindictive code

was no _brutum fulmen_, for not long after their exclusion, the Macao

Portuguese despatched an embassy, nearly all the members of which,

including attendants and ships' crews, were massacred. Of the sixty,

only the menials, thirteen in number, were suffered to return.

A long period of exemption from foreign intrusion followed. With the

present century commenced a series of private and semi-official visits

from various nations. During their seclusion they ceased not to feel an

interest in Western affairs, but, aided by the Dutch, they studied

physical sciences and contemporaneous history. Thus they heard of the

gradual approach of the irrepressible foreigner, the opening of China

through the Opium War, the acquisition of Hong Kong by the English, the

frequent appearance of American whalers off their coast, the rise of

California, and the introduction of steam on the Pacific. These things

must have suggested to thoughtful observers the necessity of modifying

some day the institutions of Gongen Sama; indeed, the Dutch state that

they counselled against resisting the demands likely to be made by

mercantile powers for a relaxation of their prohibitive policy.

Therefore it was that the not unreasonable requirements of Commodore

Perry were complied with, which guaranteed succor and good treatment of

distressed sailors, and the admission of a consul. This last concession

was obtained with much difficulty, for they regarded it as an

abandonment of their policy of isolation, and such it proved.

Our minister, Mr. Townsend Harris (then consul general), succeeded,

after much resistance from the Japanese, in getting access to Yedo from

his consulate at Simoda in 1857, his object being to negotiate a

commercial treaty, which in the following year he accomplished. Many

English writers endeavor to rob Mr. Harris of the honor which he gained

in thus opening an empire to the commerce of the world. The Tycoon

acquiesced, say they, while the echoes of the allied guns in north China

were booming in his ears. Our minister is represented as holding the

British and French fleets _in terrorem_ over the nervous Japanese, and

obtaining, without the cost and odium of an expedition, the same

advantages as if an American expedition had been despatched, and had

been successful. The truth however is, the American treaty was

negotiated, drawn, and ready for signature before he or they heard of

the attack on the forts at Taku; and only signed at the appointed time,

after learning that news. Now, however, finding themselves in a

quandary, we see their highest authorities on this question pleading in

extenuation the circumstance that they were 'driven by the Americans

into making a Japanese treaty'!

The concession made by the Japanese, in the first place--of kind

treatment of shipwrecked voyagers, and of facilities for the refitting

of disabled vessels--was no more than we had a right to exact; perhaps,

also, we may be justified in having urged them to admit a resident

official agent to protect those interests. But if a nation deems it

politic to isolate itself from all others, has any state the right to

compel that nation to abandon its exclusivism, and to receive offensive

strangers as residents? No publicist will answer this in the

affirmative, nor do statesmen advocate such a claim; yet practically

Christian nations have uniformly acted on the assumption that they might

rightfully force themselves upon an unwilling people. It is however from

the corollary involved in this assumption that weak peoples are made to

suffer. It would avail the aggressive power little if its subjects were

required to comply with all the laws of the country into which they had

thrust themselves, for in that case the laws could be made to operate so

as to thwart them in every important undertaking. Hence to the right of

residing in a country contrary to the will of its government is joined

the correlative, that of compelling the feeble state to abdicate its

sovereignty to the extent of exempting the intrusive foreigner from

local jurisdiction--of according the advantage of extra-territoriality.

The pliant Chinese readily yielded to this new order of things on

discovering that foreign nations possessed the will and the power to

enforce it; but the intractable Japanese must have their spirit cowed by

violence ere they can become resigned to the national degradation. It

was soon discovered that the measure was highly unpopular: the

functionaries who acceded to the demands of the hated foreigner

forfeited their lives or their posts. Nobles who were intensely hostile

to the regime, succeeded to the administration; and on them devolved the

task of inaugurating a new era, of accommodating the institutions of

their country to what they could not but regard as the first stage of a

revolution.

The delicate undertaking, of reconciling the antagonistic principles of

an encroaching commerce and of a feudal despotism, was committed to two

diplomatists eminently fitted for its proper performance. Mr. Townsend

Harris, who by long and patient study had conciliated the people and won

the confidence of the Government, as United States consul general at

Simoda, was appointed as American minister to Yedo; and Sir Rutherford

Alcock, whose experience as a British consular officer in China dated

from the period of the treaty of Nanking in 1842, was delegated as his

country's ambassador to that metropolis, the capital of the Tycoon.

Several difficulties were to be encountered at the threshold. First came

a question of currency. Commodore Perry's treaty allowed foreign coins

to be taken at only a third of their value, and under the new treaties

our merchants found that by the rate of exchange the price of native

products had been raised fifty to seventy per cent.; on the other hand,

they were able to purchase gold with silver, weight for weight. The

correspondence on this subject, written and verbal, plainly disclosed

that the free extension of trade was not contemplated by those

islanders. Next we find the Japanese gaining a diplomatic victory in the

location of the foreign factories, having managed to have them placed at

Yokuhama, instead of Kanagawa, the site stipulated for in the treaties,

an arrangement which serves to isolate and almost imprison the foreign

settlement; but as Yokuhama was the choice also of the mercantile

community, the ambassadors could not well press their point--it went by

default. It is the misfortune of Orientals generally, that in all their

controversies with the English, the latter have been the

historiographers, and therefore, in almost every step of their

aggressive career, appear as disinterested champions of justice, seeking

the improvement of semi-civilized peoples, by inflicting upon them

wholesome and merited chastisement. Let it be conceded that the charges

against the Japanese which we find in the Blue Book and in Sir

Rutherford Alcock's 'Capital of the Tycoon,' are all well founded, and

the resort to strong measures on the part of the British will be

admitted to be justifiable.

These authorities narrate a series of murderous assaults, made upon

Russian, French, Dutch, American, and British subjects in quick

succession, indicative, we are assured, of a fixed determination of a

powerful party to restore the regime of Gongen Sama. A party of Russian

officers were insulted in the streets of Yedo, for which, in compliance

with the demands of Count Mouravieff, a responsible official was

degraded. To avenge this disgrace of a Japanese officer, some of his

friends set upon a Russian officer and his servant, hacking them to

pieces in one of the public streets. The next victim was a servant of

the French consul, who was hewn down and cut to pieces in the street.

This was soon followed by the murder of the linguist of the British

embassy, a Chinaman; the sword which was thrust through his body was

left in that position by the assassin. The same night there was an

attempt to fire the residence of the French consul general. Two Dutch

captains were next barbarously slaughtered in the streets of Yokuhama;

one of the unhappy men was over sixty years of age. The French legation

again suffered in the person of an Italian servant, who was cut down

while quietly standing at his master's gate. Mr. Heuskin, secretary of

the United States legation, was the first assailed of the diplomatic

body. He was a valuable public servant, highly esteemed by natives and

foreigners. A native of Holland, he was linguist as well as secretary,

the Dutch language being the medium of communication. Despite various

warnings against exposing himself by night, he, on returning home at a

late hour from the Prussian embassy, was waylaid and hewn down, dying

speedily of his wounds. Hitherto the English, personally, had escaped

severe assaults; but, a few months after the assassination of the

secretary, a midnight attack was made on the British legation, which,

from its formidable character, showed that it contemplated the massacre

of the entire body. The assassins met with a spirited resistance from

the English and their Japanese guard. In that desperate encounter, Mr.

Lawrence Oliphant, secretary of legation, was wounded severely, Mr.

Morrison (consul, a son of the celebrated missionary) and two servants

slightly. Of the Tycoon's guard two were killed and fourteen wounded. On

the part of the assailants three were killed on the spot, two, who were

captured, committed suicide by ripping themselves up, and several of

those who escaped were wounded.

A subsequent attack on the British legation resulted in the death of two

English sentries, one receiving nine and the other sixteen sword wounds.

The last of these murderous assaults was made on three English gentlemen

and a lady, who were riding on the Tokaido, where they were met by the

cortege of Shimadzoo Sabara, prince of Satzuma. Being ordered to return,

they complied, but no sooner had they turned their backs than they were

set upon by the retainers of the prince, numbering between five and six

hundred. The lady miraculously escaped, two of the gentlemen were

wounded, and the third, Mr. Richardson, being nearly cut to pieces, fell

from his horse, and when lying in a dying state, one of the high

officials of the cortege commanded a follower to cut the throat of the

unfortunate gentleman, an order that was quickly obeyed.

These sanguinary deeds were diversified by various attempts at

arson--the latest, with aid of gunpowder, being successful. On the first

of last February, the British minister's residence at Yedo was burned to

the ground by armed incendiaries, who made their work more sure by

laying trains of gunpowder, which caused a tremendous explosion; but as

it was, the members of the legation were all at Yokuhama, and there was

no loss of life except among the natives who tried to extinguish the

fire--they were shot down by the incendiaries.

The inquiry naturally occurs, Are there no extenuating circumstances to

be adduced on the part of the Japanese? Were there no acts of

provocation on the part of foreigners? If we rely merely on the

testimony of the complainants, the reply would be an unqualified

negative. An impartial witness, however, finds no difficulty in

presenting apologies, which have some claims to be considered as a

justification of their conduct. The Japanese affirm that nearly every

case of assault was designed to avenge personal insult. The linguist and

the sentries of the British legation had perpetrated wrongs upon those

by whom they subsequently fell. When the attack was made upon the

sentries, it was by a solitary avenger, who stealthily crawled on his

hands and knees until he reached and slew the offender; and he killed

the other because this last attempted to prevent his escape. In like

manner, the servants of the French official had committed outrages upon

these vindictive people, from whose resentment they suffered.

It should be remembered that if these men, instead of revenging

themselves, had sought legal redress, it could have been obtained, if at

all, only at the hands of the masters of the aggressors, who would have

been tried and punished, if convicted, according to the foreigners'

code. The Chinese sometimes resort to our tribunals, but oftener submit

to wrong; the nobler Japanese have a sense of honor which will not

easily brook such an invasion of their rights.

With regard to the case which the English make the immediate _casus

belli_--the murder of Richardson--there are contradictory statements; it

is denied by the Japanese that he and his party turned back to make way

for the prince of Satzuma's cortege; they say, on the contrary, that he

was killed only after obstinate persistence in dashing through the

cavalcade. Moreover, patriotism undoubtedly prompted many of the deeds

of violence detailed in the foregoing record. Take for example the

reason assigned by one of the assassins who was slain in one of the

attacks on the British legation, as declared in a paper found on his

body.

'I, though I am a person of low standing, have no patience to stand

by and see the sacred empire defiled by the foreigner. If this

thing from time to time may cause the foreigner to retire, and

partly tranquillize the manes of departed mikados and tycoons, I

shall take to myself the highest praise. Regardless of my own life,

I am determined to set out.'

There were appended to the paper, from which the above extract is taken,

the names of fourteen _Lonins_, or bravos. These impulsive patriots did

not restrict their assaults to the aggressive foreigner, but assailed

also the nobles who acceded to the foreigners' demands. Several times

ministers of state were attacked in the streets, while surrounded by

their retainers, and on each occasion many lives were lost in the fight

which ensued. Indeed, continuing to follow English official authority,

it would appear that the American treaties cost the lives of two

tycoons, one regent, and several ministers and nobles, for the most part

by self-evisceration. The assassination of the Gotairo, or regent, is

fresh in the minds of the public. It took place at noon, while he was in

the midst of his guard, on his way to the palace. His head, we are

informed, was exposed at the execution ground at Miako, there being

placed over it the inscription: 'THIS IS THE HEAD OF A TRAITOR WHO HAS

VIOLATED THE MOST SACRED LAWS OF JAPAN--THOSE WHICH FORBID THE ADMISSION

OF FOREIGNERS INTO THE COUNTRY,'--but which the Japanese affirm was

never written. The sentence, however, seems to express the motives of

the murderers. It is the aristocracy of the empire that is fiercely

arrayed against an abandonment of the policy of isolation: that the

populace is not particularly hostile, is evinced by the comparative

immunity of foreigners from violence at the ports of Hakodadi and

Nagasaki.

Why should the ruling classes seek to abrogate the treaties and defy

foreign powers? The Daimios are not ignorant of the prowess and

resources of the country against which they particularly array

themselves: they are a well-informed and astute class, and cannot fall

to see that feudalism and commerce are antagonistic--that free

intercourse with foreigners is incompatible with the existence of the

present form of government: and therefore many of them would fain revert

to the conservative policy of isolation. More than four years ago, the

writer of this article, then in Japan, although his opportunities of

observation were limited, published the opinion that a revolution would

be the inevitable result of the concessions that had been extorted from

the tycoon; that civil war could hardly fail to take place, by which the

government would be brought under the sway of one ruler, tycoon, mikado,

or some powerful daimio, which would lead to the destruction of the

feudal system, and to the introduction of Christian civilization, a

consummation which we in the interest of the Japanese may devoutly wish,

but which the daimios, having full knowledge of the same, must in

self-defence resist to the last. Hence the English base their charge

that the attacks on foreigners were instigated by the nobles, and

perpetrated by their retainers, which remains to be proved.

Apart from the prospective evils consequent on an abandonment of the

restrictive policy under which the empire has long prospered, there were

immediate consequences which to a high-minded people must be galling and

degrading beyond endurance. The treaties have robbed them of their

independence: compelling them to abdicate sovereignty to the extent of

absolving resident foreigners from Japanese jurisdiction. In various

publications in the East and in Europe the writer has attempted to show

how disastrous extra-territoriality has been to China; on the present

occasion it will suffice to name this violation of a nation's rights as

justifying resistance to the last on the part of patriots in Japan.

While for good political reasons some daimios have endeavored to render

the treaties inoperative, and to frighten foreigners out of the land,

there has been springing up among the people a strong antipathy toward

them, for which they have themselves alone to blame. Who that read the

glowing accounts of the reception at first accorded to our people, did

not admire the suavity and hospitality of the Japanese? This friendly

intercourse lasted only until the parties came to understand each other.

Now, we are told that when a western man passes through the streets he

is hooted at as 'Tojin baka,' a foreign fool, a gentler way of putting

it than in China--where it is 'Fanqui'--foreign devil. The practical

joking in which many foreigners are apt to indulge is often carried too

far, and being accompanied by an arrogant demeanor of superiority,

proves highly offensive. Again, we find the _Tojin baka_ often fail to

discriminate between different classes of females. Discovering that the

Japanese were lewd beyond all other people, with institutions fostering

vice, without even the flimsy pretext of hygienic considerations, they

take liberties which rouse the vindictive rage of husbands.

Palliation may be found for the alleged arson mentioned in the catalogue

of complaints that have excited British indignation. In the question of

a site for the residence of the ambassadors, the irrepressible foreigner

demanded a celebrated temple, and its magnificent grounds, the Hyde Park

of Yedo--a favorite place of resort of the citizens on holiday

merrymaking. Recent accounts represent this cession of a popular place

of recreation as having cost the tycoon much of his popularity, and as

involving him in a controversy with the spiritual emperor, who, as

Pontifex maximus, has exclusive authority over religious edifices.

Yielding to pressure from above and below, the tycoon begged the

ambassadors to consent to the removal of the buildings to some other

site in the metropolis less obnoxious to the mikado and to the populace,

all the expense of which the Japanese Government offered to pay. Only

one of the buildings had been completed, that for the British legation.

Colonel Neal, H. B. M. _chargé d'affaires_, was solicited to give his

consent, which he refused. Time was precious. The mikado's envoy was

about to return with a final answer; it was necessary that something

should be done to save the tycoon from the consequences of his

disobedience. The knot was cut, as we have seen, by the torch and by

gunpowder.

In the use of firearms the prejudices of the natives have been

needlessly offended. Shooting game is not generally allowed to the

people, yet foreigners here often been reckless in the pursuit of sport,

regardless where they sought it, and terrifying the people. Again,

riding on horseback is allowed only to the nobles, and it is a source of

provocation to all classes to witness the equestrian performances of

foreigners of every station in life, whose amusement at times consists

in making pedestrians scatter as they gallop through crowded streets.

Moreover, the Chinese servants in the employ of foreigners habitually

insult and oppress the natives, presuming on immunity as retainers of

the privileged stranger. As the Japanese hold the Celestials in supreme

contempt, and as that feeling is fully reciprocated, collisions are the

consequence, and it is pretty certain that the 'servants' of the

legation who were murdered were offending Chinamen.

Guizot remarks, in his 'History of Civilization,' 'of all systems of

government, it may be asserted, without fear of contradiction, that the

most difficult to establish and render effectual, is the federative

system--which eminently requires the greatest maturity of reason, of

morality, and of civilization, in which it is applied. The very nature

itself of feudalism is opposed to order and legality.' It was with the

executive of a feudal federative system that European and American

governments negotiated these treaties, a duplicate sovereign over six

hundred and twenty feudal barons, commanding above two hundred thousand

armed retainers, governing a people wanting in reason and morality. The

existence of the theocratic element served further to complicate the

machinery of government at Yedo. It may be questioned whether the

ministers of the tycoon were ever heartily in favor of an abandonment of

the policy of exclusivism. It is probable that they yielded to the

demands made upon them, as the least of two evils, a refusal promising

to involve them in wars, which might eventually lead to their

subjugation to one of the least scrupulous of the aggressive powers. In

the inauguration of the system, Japanese statesmanship was exposed to a

severe ordeal. On one hand was the task of pacifying the native

opponents of the fundamental change in polity, and on the other, the

duty of evading, as far as possible, the concessions that had been wrung

from them by the foreigner. Something answering to demagoguism is found

in the Ultra Orient: there was not only the honest opposition of the

patriot, but the factious hostility of the office seeker, against whom

the ministry were called to contend. As a consequence, those who were

responsible for the innovation soon lost their lives or their posts.

Their successors found themselves, as is often the case in political

changes, obliged, when in power, to carry out the general policy which,

when in opposition, they decried. Instead of abrogating the treaties,

they aimed, by evasions and restrictions, to render nugatory many of

their stipulations. The _Japanese Herald_, an English mercantile

newspaper, published in Yokuhama, gives the following list of

concessions made to the Japanese Government:

'The right to trade in gold was given up; the right to exchange

money, weight for weight, was given up; enforcing recovery of debts

clause was given up; Ne-egata was given up; Yedo followed;

non-circulation of dollars in the country unopposed; Kanagawa as a

residence given up; land leases at the usual rate of the country

given up; restrictions on employment of servants allowed without

remonstrance; immunity from local jurisdiction endangered; and,

lastly, Osaka given up on our own minister's representation.'

Still, the gioro, or council of state, failed to appease the factious

opposition, and are charged by Sir Rutherford with not being really

desirous of securing foreigners from injurious treatment even from the

hands of their own officials. A candid observer, on reviewing all the

circumstances of the case, will absolve the Government of the tycoon

from the charge of complicity in the injurious treatment from which

foreigners have suffered. It must be admitted that the Government were,

as they protested, helpless in the matter. In almost every instance they

failed to discover and punish the murderous assailants, who were

screened by disaffected powerful daimios. They encountered obstacles,

the same in character, but far greater in degree, in repressing the

hostility toward foreigners which our authorities had in restraining

aggression against natives; and further, it ought not to be forgotten

that they acceded promptly to all the demands made upon them for

pecuniary compensation as an atonement for lives taken and for wounds

inflicted. Ten thousand dollars was sent through Mr. Harris to

Philadelphia, for the widowed mother of the murdered Heuskin, and such

was their regret for the occurrence that the Government would have paid

manifold more, if our minister had seen fit to exact as much. English

sufferers, or their relations, also received liberal compensation.

Menaced by the feudal aristocracy, and by the theocratic element of the

Government, the tycoon's ministers could not but look forward to the

period when, by treaty stipulations, the concessions which had been so

fatal to their predecessors, and against which they had themselves

inveighed, were to be extended to new ports. If the admission of

foreigners into or near the metropolis or seat of the temporal authority

had proved disastrous, what evils might not be expected when, by

admitting them to Hiogo, or Osaca, they would be brought so near to the

capital or seat of the spiritual power!

To avert, or rather to postpone this impending evil, an embassy was

despatched to European countries with which treaties had been made,

soliciting an extension of time (five years) for the opening of new

ports. Mr. Harris easily obtained the assent of our Government to the

reasonable request. Earl Russell acceded also, but required as an

equivalent the strict execution of all the other points of the treaty;

viz., the abolition of all restrictions, whether as regards quantity or

price, on the sale by Japanese to foreigners of all kinds of

merchandise; all restrictions on labor, and more particularly on the

hire of carpenters, boatmen, boats and coolies, teachers, and servants,

of whatever denomination; all restrictions whereby daimios are prevented

from sending their produce to market, and from selling the same directly

to their own agents; all restrictions resulting from attempts on the

part of the customhouse authorities and other officials to obtain fees;

all restrictions limiting the classes of persons who shall be allowed to

trade with foreigners; and all restrictions imposed on free intercourse

of a social kind between foreigners and the people of Japan. These all

seem reasonable, and are only what the Japanese Government was already

bound by treaty to fulfil; but as our Federal Government has found

itself embarrassed by South Carolina's treatment of colored British

subjects, so the tycoon's ministers find some of the feudal daimios

nullifying or disregarding the treaty obligations of the general

government.

If, however, a more conciliatory policy on the part of British residents

had been pursued toward the Japanese people, if greater allowance had

been made by English officials for the peculiar difficulties surrounding

the Government to which they were accredited, and if more confidence had

been placed in the good faith of the tycoon's ministers, it is certain

that all opposition would have been gradually overcome. At one time a

majority of the daimios had become reconciled to foreign intercourse;

but the anti-foreign party has been increased and incensed by recent

events; and there is danger that a compliance with the new demands of

the foreigner will involve the country in civil war.

The treatment which the luckless envoys experienced on their return from

Europe after a successful mission, shows how imperfectly the demands of

the British minister will be complied with: we find official accounts

from the Swiss embassy published in the _Dagblad_ of the Hague, that

they were degraded from rank and dismissed from office; the secretary

and linguist having been a pupil and friend of the writer, he perused

their political obituary with much regret. However, office holding in

the far East is not only an equivocal honor, but a precarious means of

subsistence, which, as the aspirants fully understand, one can somewhat

economize his commiseration. Why, they are used to it in that strange

country. The last mail brings intelligence of the degradation of one

hundred and ten office holders of all grades, from the proud minister of

state down to the humble clerk. In this list of casualties, too, a

friend and pupil turns up. Dr. Itowo Gambono was a fussy fellow,

something of a politician and courtier, and never mindful of

professional etiquette when it stood in the way of his advancement. His

Imperial Majesty the Tycoon, a dissolute youth of nineteen, with three

wives, is subject, of course, to various maladies. The court physician

administered a prescription so nauseous that the royal patient kicked

against the whole materia medica; and great was the consternation of the

court, when Dr. Itowo Gambono, who had been engineering for the office

of surgeon royal, allayed apprehension by making known his

qualifications, and the palatable character of his prescriptions. He was

installed in office; but trusting exclusively to the _vis medicatrix

naturæ_, and having been discovered in administering nothing but

sweetened water, he suffered in the general proscription. A medical jury

might render the verdict: Served him right for intriguing against his

_confrere_.

The curious reader will be gratified with learning what some of the

Japanese themselves have to say on the question of the relations betwixt

the foreigner and their own Government, and it is not likely that the

subjoined translation of a document, purporting to be a protest

addressed to the tycoon's ministers, but intended as a complaint against

them to the mikado or spiritual emperor, will be found too long for

perusal:

'When you consulted us about the new relations into which we were

to enter with foreigners, you told us, upon the authority of a

certain Harisoo (Mr. Harris) the American, that the treaty would

give us plenty and abundance. Both you and Harisoo said that cotton

would be sold for a mere nothing, and that silk and manufactured

goods would not cost us anything. The daily necessaries of life

would be brought to our country from all quarters of the globe, and

our farmers would not be required to sow and reap. We anxiously

expect these miracles, and at present we enjoy advantages which you

never mentioned, namely, that those articles which you and Harisoo

promised to give us at very low prices are now three times as

expensive as they formerly were. You told us that our treasuries

would be always open to receive the enormous riches which our

intercourse with foreigners would always give us. It is an

undeniable fact that our treasuries have been always open, but,

instead of receiving money, we have been called upon to sacrifice

the little we possess. You monopolize the import and export duties

completely, and we had a right to suppose that those duties which,

according to your statement and those of your financier Harisoo,

would enrich the Japanese nation, ought to cover expenses such as

building fortifications and buying men-of-war, which you say must

inspire the barbarians with the respect due to our country. But

what have you done for the last three years? What has been the

tenor of all your despatches? Japan must be fortified,

fortifications must be built, the artillery and navy increased.

Money is required. If we could only see those fortifications,

those men-of-war, we would complain less about expenses; but

everything is proposed and nothing executed. You think that

drawings and plans will scare foreigners, and cause them to flee

from our country; but we doubt it, for they really equal us in this

art. You sometimes talk to us about political economy; we candidly

own you give us excellent advice; unfortunately we have numerous

proofs that you do not follow the precepts that you give us. Why

was such an incredible sum of money spent for all the vain and

useless pomp which accompanied the sister of the mikado on her

journey to Yedo, preparatory to her marriage with the tycoon? Why

was so much money wasted in rebuilding the palace of the tycoon? We

shall not mention the various ways in which the public money is

wasted, as this would cause the nation to blush, and the mikado to

mourn. As you always remind us of the great principles of political

economy when you demand pecuniary supplies, pardon us for making

the following remarks. Owing to the troubled state of the country,

the presence of the daimios at Yedo was formerly very necessary.

Now, this is not the case at present, and still our lords are

always travelling to and from the capital. The personal fatigue,

the vexation, the expense of the immense retinue which always

accompanies them, can no longer be supported.

'The time has come that these ruinous journeys should cease, and

the lords of Japan declare themselves unable to defray the expense

which you impose upon them. As foreign trade has nearly ruined us,

and as fortifications and numerous other unforeseen expenses are

deemed necessary in all the parts which have been opened to

barbarians, we not only demand that the new ports Osaka, Neëgata,

and Yedo shall not be opened, but that Kanagawa be closed. You

always assert that we are opposed to friendly intercourse with

foreign nations, but this is utterly false; we willingly consent to

open the whole of Japan, if this step does not occasion expenses

which are beyond our means. We have not murdered our servants who

were favorably inclined toward the opening of Japan to foreigners.

We never spread insulting libels against foreigners amongst our

people. _We_ never called Harisoo a fool, Aroako (Sir R. Alcock)

a ----, and Borrookoroo (M. de Bellecourt, French consul general)

a ----. _We_ never called the consuls drunkards and foreign

merchants thieves. _You_ teach the young to despise and insult

foreigners, and although you always tell us that the foreign

nations are powerful and greatly to be feared, a high functionary

lately said, 'With the exception of one of the nations, all the

foreigners could be insulted with impunity.''

Although this document, evidently a clumsy forgery, bears traces of

having been composed apparently by a native penny-a-liner for the

foreign newspaper, yet it apparently expresses the opinion of a large

class of rulers and people, and serves to exhibit some of the features

of the varied opposition which the tycoon has to encounter.

The perils which menace the tycoon, or rather the council of state, are

multiform. In the Prince of Mito, they have an aspirant to the

tycoonship, by whose machinations it is believed foreigners have

suffered, merely that the Government might be embarrassed. Rulers like

the Prince of Kago, preferring death to compliance with the foreigners'

demands; recent events admonishing the council and ministers that this

penalty is likely to attend their yielding; at the same time importunity

is used at the court of Miako--the spiritual emperor--to curtail or

abolish the authority at Yedo; while the barbarian stands, torch in

hand, ready not only to fire another palace, but with formidable fleets

prepared to bombard cities!

One of the most resolute and powerful of the daimios who hold that it

were better to die fighting rather than yield the points in dispute, is

Shimadzu Sabara, Prince of Satzuma. It was his retainers who killed

Richardson, and he will not suffer them to be delivered up for

punishment, from the conviction doubtless that they committed the deed

while resisting the advance of an arrogant foreigner. He seems to have

the ability and the will to resist any attempt on the part of the

general government to coerce him, hence the embarrassment which is

occasioned by the British demand for the punishment of the assassins. He

has particularly allied himself to the spiritual emperor, in whose

capital he is popular; we read of him a short time since making a

donation to the poor of Miako of ten thousand piculs of rice. Strictly

speaking, Shimadzu Sabara is regent of Satzuma, the prince, who is his

nephew, being only six years of age. Satzuma, the principality, is on

the southerly extremity of the most southerly island of the Archipelago

Kiusiu. Its capital, Kagosima, is a rich port, having 500,000

inhabitants; the Loo Choo Islands acknowledge the Prince of Satzuma as

suzerain. Much of the prosperity of that part of Japan is due to the

sagacity and enterprise of the late prince. He applied himself to the

study of natural science, particularly the practical part, and

established manufactories on a large scale, introducing all foreign arts

that could be acquired. His glass manufactures have attained to a good

degree of perfection, and the foundery for smelting and forging iron ore

is on an extensive scale, employing about two thousand men. Some bronze

guns made there were of a caliber for balls of 150 pounds weight. He

constructed also several spacious docks. This prince paid the writer of

this article the compliment of republishing his 'Treatise on the Law of

Storms,' published several years ago in the Chinese language. He died in

1859, much lamented by his subjects.

Not less enterprising is the Prince of Fizen, in whose principality the

well-known port of Nagasaki is situated. The foundery, with its steam

hammer and other appliances, for his navy, consisting of several

steamers purchased from foreigners, is a striking object in that

beautiful harbor. He is in favor of intercourse with foreigners; we read

of his assembling his vassals like a baron of olden time, and taking

their opinions, and that of his officers, on the question of admitting

foreigners, and informing his suzerain of their acquiescence. Stimulated

by the example of these two princes, other nobles are desirous of

acquiring power by adopting improvements from abroad. It has been stated

that applications have been made for sixty steamers. A Dutch mercantile

paper lately published a list of twenty steamers in course of

construction for the Japanese. As American steamers have been found best

adapted for the Chinese waters, we ought to construct more for our

Japanese neighbors than we have yet done.

The British Government demands an indemnity for the families of the

slain--£5,000 for each sentry, and £10,000 for Mr. Richardson, and the

punishment of the murderers. As the validity of the treaties has been

questioned, Japanese having recently in several instances taken the

position that the tycoon had no authority to make them, it has been

proposed that Miako should be visited and the mikado compelled to ratify

it; and as the Prince of Satzuma is responsible for the latest murder,

it has been proposed that Kagosima should be bombarded, and that his

fief, the Loo Choo Islands, should be held as a material guarantee for

the fulfilment of his (the tycoon's) and the mikados' obligations. Some

British journalists have maintained that as the expense of a war, from

the courage of the people and the appliances of the rulers, would be

great, as the trade is of small value, and as the Japanese have right on

their side in resisting the encroachments of foreigners, it is

advisable, after obtaining due reparation, to withdraw from the country

altogether:--a proposition little in accordance with Britain's

antecedents; such a relinquishment of purpose would occasion a loss of

prestige which would jeopardize her sway from Hong Kong to Bombay. The

response made to the proposition to retire from the country is that it

would not only be ignominious, but perilous to their interests in the

far East, which are now in jeopardy from the 'encroachments of Russia,

the diplomacy, not always honest and aboveboard, of America, and the

ambitious policy of France.'

An ulterior object with that power is to obtain a foothold in the North

Pacific, which shall connect Hong Kong with British Columbia, and events

will be shaped as far as possible to secure that end. With France

strongly fortified at Annam, and Russian power growing on the Amoor, the

English are apprehensive that in a war with either of those countries

their cargoes of silk, tea, and opium would be somewhat insecure. While

England has the merit of extending free trade to her new acquisitions,

she makes them, even in peace, a means of annoyance to American

commerce; consequently, we cannot regard with indifference her

territorial expansion in the North Pacific. When we come to devote the

attention to our interests in that part of the world which they merit,

our friends on the Pacific coast will discover that European Governments

are in possession of all the commanding points, if, indeed, they do not

find China and Japan under an Anglo-French protectorate--an end for

which many are devoting their energies. In view of the fact that it is

through our agency that this country has been opened, and thus exposed

to its present dangers, and considering that the Japanese Government is

nearly, if not wholly, blameless, as regards its foreign relations,

Americans cannot but hope that in the approaching conflict, Japan will

suffer neither loss of territory, power, or character.

An article, in the American treaty says:

'The President of the United States, at the request of the Japanese

Government, will act as a friendly mediator in such matters of

difference as arise between the Government of Japan and the

European powers.'

Accordingly, application has been made to Mr. Pruyn, soliciting through

him an extension of time in replying to Colonel Neal's ultimatum, which

has been accorded, but as a sharp correspondence is said to have arisen

between the English and American ambassadors in relation to the sale of

arms by our merchants to the Japanese, Mr. Pruyn's mediation is not

likely to avail much in the approaching strife. As Japan is a friendly

power, to which we are allied by treaty, we feel curious to hear what

arguments have been adduced by the English to show that we ought not to

deal in material of war with that country.

The position of Americans in Japan, as regards diplomacy, commerce, and

Christian missions, with other matters of general interest, omitted for

want of space, will form subjects of another article in the series which

is proposed for publication in THE CONTINENTAL on Eastern Asiatic

questions.

WAS HE SUCCESSFUL?

'Do but grasp into the thick of human life! Every one _lives_

it--to not many is it _known_; and seize it where you will, it is

interesting.'--GOETHE.

'SUCCESSFUL.--Terminating in accomplishing what is wished or

intended.'--WEBSTER'S _Dictionary_.