ented to be my titular
father.

The ceremony was brief but impressive. I could not but be struck by
the contrast between the two Mikados--the one whom I had seen
yesterday, an alert statesman, wearing Western clothes, and speaking
French with hardly a trace of accent, and the one before me now, a
solemn, pontifical figure, in his immemorial robes, moving, speaking
with the etiquette of a bygone age.

Everything passed in the Japanese language, of which I did not then
know a single word.

Mr. Katahashi did his best to provide a running translation,
whispering in my ear, and prompting me with the Japanese words which
it was necessary for me to pronounce.

As far as I could understand, Prince Yorimo asked permission of the
Emperor to adopt a son, as he was childless and desired to have some
one who would sacrifice to his own spirit and those of his father and
grandfather after he was dead.

The Mikado graciously consenting, I was brought forward, and made to
renounce my own family and ancestors, and promise to sacrifice
exclusively to those of my new father.

Prince Yorimo next brought forward a robe embroidered with the
imperial emblems, the most prominent of which was the Rising Sun. I
was divested of the dress lent me by Katahashi, and my adoptive
father flung the imperial garment over my shoulders.

The girding on of the samurai weapon followed, and my father
addressed me a short exhortation, bidding me hold myself ready at all
times to obey the will of the Divine Emperor, even to the point of
committing _seppuku_ at his command.

_Seppuku_ is the correct name of the rite known in the West by the
vulgar name of _hara-kiri_, or the "happy despatch." It is a form of
voluntary execution permitted by the ancient laws of Japan to men of
noble rank, much as European nobles were allowed to be beheaded
instead of being hanged.

I was then permitted to kiss the hand of Prince Yorimo, who formally
presented me to the Mikado, whose hand also I had to kiss, kneeling.

That was the whole of the ceremony, at the close of which Mr.
Katahashi bade me a temporary farewell, and my princely father
carried me off to a banquet in his own mansion.

Tedious and uninteresting as I fear these details must seem to the
reader, I have thought it right to record them as an illustration of
the spirit of Japan, of that country of which I am proud to be an
adopted son.

The moment we had quitted the Hall of the Imperial Family, Princ