or the sake of
recognition at the hands of men who paint their ceilings white, their
grates black, their mantelpieces French grey, and their carriages yellow
and red. The Mikado wears blue and gold and red, his guards wear orange
breeches with a stone-blue stripe down them; the American missionary
teaches the Japanese girl to wear bangs--"shingled bangs"--on her
forehead, plait her hair into a pigtail, and to tie it up with magenta
and cobalt ribbons. The German sells them the offensive chromos of his
own country and the labels of his beer-bottles. Allen and Ginter
devastate Tokio with their blood-red and grass-green tobacco-tins. And
in the face of all these things the country wishes to progress toward
civilisation! I have read the entire Constitution of Japan, and it is
dearly bought at the price of one of the kaleidoscope omnibuses plying
in the street there."

"Are you going to inflict all that nonsense on them at home?" said the
Professor.

"I am. For this reason. In the years to come, when Japan has sold her
birthright for the privilege of being cheated on equal terms by her
neighbours; when she has so heavily run into debt for her railways and
public works that the financial assistance of England and annexation is
her only help; when the Daimios through poverty have sold the treasures
of their houses to the curio-dealer, and the dealer has sold them to the
English collector; when all the people wear slop-trousers and ready-made
petticoats, and the Americans have established soap factories on the
rivers and a boarding-house on the top of Fujiyama, some one will turn
up the files of the _Pioneer_ and say: 'This thing was prophesied.' Then
they will be sorry that they began tampering with the great
sausage-machine of civilisation. What is put into the receiver must come
out at the spout; but it must come out mincemeat. _Dixi!_ And now let us
go to the tomb of the Forty-Seven Ronins."

"It has been said some time ago, and much better than you can say it,"
said the Professor, _apropos_ of nothing that I could see.

Distances are calculated by the hour in Tokio. Forty minutes in a
'rickshaw, running at full speed, will take you a little way into the
city; two hours from the Ueno Park brings you to the tomb of the famous
Forty-Seven, passing on the way the very splendid temples of Shiba,
which are all fully described in the guide-books. Lacquer, gold-inlaid
bronze-work, and crystals carved with the words "Om" and "S