shouldered, and our bearers walk like human beings. We thank Providence, however, that we are sufficiently exalted to be allowed a norima instead of having to travel in the smaller conveyance called a cango—a sort of a bird-cage open at the sides, which by far the major portion of the people we meet on the roads are compelled to be satisfied with. We know what it is to be cramped up in a cango, because in scaling the two or three high ranges of mountain-land between Yedo and Miaco, people of all grades must get into them, in consequence of the steepness and danger of the mountain paths. But how those poor women and men can sit there in the dust, sun, rain, or wind, cramped up with their knees and chins together, through some of the terribly long journeys they have to make, is a perfect mystery. They must be a patient, long-suffering race, or they would have rebelled against it, for by the laws they must travel. Every noble and every official passes annually with all his relatives or retainers to and from the capital. Every governorship, judgeship, and generalship is in duplicate, one at court, the other in office; they relieve each other annually. Then all the shrines have to be visited, and pilgrimages done—in fact, everybody seems to travel more or less in Japan, yet they travel very uncomfortably as far as the vehicles are concerned.
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How Soldiers are Fed in Nipon. (Fac-simile of a sketch from Yedo.) (See p. 384.)
After a short stage in our norima, the general halt is sounded; another post-house receives us, another meal is discussed, and following the general custom of those around us, we all go off for an afternoon’s nap. It is very un-English this custom of sleeping away two hours of the afternoon; the Chinamen don’t do it, yet they appeared to go all to sleep in Yedo during the afternoon. Possibly the custom has been derived from the old Portuguese, Spanish, and Dutch visitors: it is not the only point in which we recognise a grafting of European habits on to native ones, and it will be deeply interesting for future visitors to this strange people to note how far their ancient love for European customs has allowed those customs to survive the subsequent persecution and expulsion of the foreigner.
Nigh unto our resting-place a monastery of blind devotees, or monks, or the shrine of some beneficent god or goddess would, in all probability, be found; and it was charming to observe how lively was the faith of these poor islanders, and how well their clergy seemed to be supported, and how rich their temples were in such wealth as the land possessed. In former days, when more of the interior was known, European visitors were struck with the vast wealth of some of these edifices, and their descriptions, supported by Japanese authorities, are truly marvellous. For instance, in the great temple of Miaco the Spanish Ambassador, Don Rodriguez de Vivero, saw such an accumulation of wealth, such a profusion of human wit and ingenuity, as perfectly put to blush all the cathedrals of Europe. The great bell of that Temple weighed alone two million and a quarter Dutch pounds, and so huge was the principal idol—a bronze one—that one of the ambassador’s suite could not embrace the thumb with both hands; 100,000 men were at work on the edifice, and had been for some time, and yet it was still incomplete. Satan, as the worthy Don suggests, could not have invented a shorter way of impoverishing the national exchequer than in the construction of such temples and such idols. In all probability, wars and earthquakes have swept away many of these ancient and wealthy temples; but we shall be curious to read the report of the first traveller who visits Miaco in the present day, and is allowed to see it, and tell us what he has seen. Apart from their wealthy