crossed his face, but he uttered no sound. At
that moment the _kaishaku_, who, still crouching by his side, had been
keenly watching his every movement, sprang to his feet, poised his
sword for a second in the air; there was a flash, a heavy, ugly thud,
a crashing fall; with one blow the head had been severed from the
body.

A dead silence followed, broken only by the hideous noise of the blood
throbbing out of the inert heap before us, which but a moment before
had been a brave and chivalrous man. It was horrible.

The _kaishaku_ made a low bow, wiped his sword with a piece of paper
which he had ready for the purpose, and retired from the raised
floor; and the stained dirk was solemnly borne away, a bloody proof of
the execution.

The two representatives of the Mikado then left their places, and,
crossing over to where the foreign witnesses sat, called us to witness
that the sentence of death upon Taki Zenzaburo had been faithfully
carried out. The ceremony being at an end, we left the temple.

The ceremony, to which the place and the hour gave an additional
solemnity, was characterized throughout by that extreme dignity and
punctiliousness which are the distinctive marks of the proceedings of
Japanese gentlemen of rank; and it is important to note this fact,
because it carries with it the conviction that the dead man was indeed
the officer who had committed the crime, and no substitute. While
profoundly impressed by the terrible scene it was impossible at the
same time not to be filled with admiration of the firm and manly
bearing of the sufferer, and of the nerve with which the _kaishaku_
performed his last duty to his master. Nothing could more strongly
show the force of education. The Samurai, or gentleman of the military
class, from his earliest years learns to look upon the _hara-kiri_ as
a ceremony in which some day he may be called upon to play a part as
principal or second. In old-fashioned families, which hold to the
traditions of ancient chivalry, the child is instructed in the rite
and familiarized with the idea as an honourable expiation of crime or
blotting out of disgrace. If the hour comes, he is prepared for it,
and gravely faces an ordeal which early training has robbed of half
its horrors. In what other country in the world does a man learn that
the last tribute of affection which he may have to pay to his best
friend may be to act as his executioner?

Since I wrote the above, we have heard th