Page:ONCE A WEEK JUL TO DEC 1860.pdf/679

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page needs to be proofread.
Dec. 8, 1860.]
LAST WEEK.
671

strong hand of power. We have not tolerated the misgovernment of thirty millions—why should we stand by quietly and witness the degradation and oppression of three hundred millions, if we have the power to prevent it, and that without a violation of the canons of public policy and right which regulate the intercourse of nations even in the Western world?

Before we take leave of these distant Eastern regions, it is pleasant to think that by intelligence received Last Week from Japan, our intercourse with the Japanese seems to be proceeding in the most friendly manner. Mr. Alcock, our envoy at Jeddo, had not only succeeded in obtaining from the Government facilities for travelling in the interior, but he had actually gained permission to visit the sacred mountain of Fusi-jama. This is almost as though one should say in the old days of Turkish bigotry that a Christian had been admitted to profane the famous Mosque of Omar with his infidel tread. Matters must have been shrewdly enough managed at Jeddo; and there can, at the bottom, exist no very unfriendly feeling towards the Europeans at Japan when such a concession was made. It would no doubt have been much easier to have moved the Japanese Government to yield a far more important point. The Alpine Club would not do amiss to turn their attention to Fusi-jama, now that they seem pretty well to have exhausted the catalogue of Schrekhorns and Wetterhorns, and reduced the ascent of Mont Blanc pretty much to the dimensions of a vulgar stroll.

True, the height of the mountain is only guessed at 14,000 feet above the sea-level by the English visitors, although the Japanese themselves place it at 17,000; but the marvellous beauty of the scenery—so it is said—more than atones for any deficiency in mere altitude. Mr. E. B. De Fonblanque has forwarded home an account of the ascent which, though written under date Sep. 20, from Kanagawa, in Japan, was only received and published in London Last Week. After writing with enthusiasm of the beauty of the scenery, which, as he writes, cannot be equalled within the same compass in any part of the world, he speaks with delight of the cordial and gentle manners of the people. The travellers, who were of course to the Japanese villagers, just what Japanese travellers would be to us, were not pressed upon or annoyed even by the curiosity of the people. In the course of their journey they did not see either a drunkard or a beggar. The houses were clean, and in good repair; the little gardens were well cultivated, and decorated with ornamental flowers. Everywhere signs of peace and prosperity were seen. The journey thus undertaken was not an inconsiderable one, for the party had to travel six days before they reached the foot of the mountain, and under the auspices of the priests, commenced the ascent. At every half-mile, until the real rough scrambling began, they found seats for repose, and were presented with quaint little cups of tea, just as in Switzerland: at various unexpected turns, there are found little sheds where Alpine-strawberries and cream are displayed before the not ungrateful tourist. When the top of the mountain was attained, Mr. Alcock displayed the British flag. The party fired twenty-one rounds from their revolvers into the crater of Fusi-jama, and Queen Victoria’s health was drunk in champagne, to the astonishment of the Japanese, who seem to have considered the firing and the bumpers of champagne as elements in a religious ceremony. It appears wonderful that, amongst the hundreds and hundreds of enterprising young Englishmen who are in want of an occupation, the idea has not occurred to some one or other of the number to make Japan his own in a literary sense. A few years ago it would have been as impossible to raise the veil which had hung over these islands for centuries as it would have been to penetrate, unchallenged, into a fortified town in time of war. All the efforts of Sir Stamford Raffles and of other marking Englishmen to effect an entry into this mysterious empire had been paralysed in the presence of Japanese obstinacy and Japanese traditions. The Dutch pedlars might come to Nangasaki if they would, leave there what merchandise they might judge fit for the Japanese market, and receive such Japanese wares as were assigned to them in exchange by the Japanese authorities—but there was an end of European intercourse with Japan. Now, matters are changed. The entry into Japan and the rupture of the old traditions have been effected.

If an Englishman—a young man, with a few years of life to spare—wanted to go to Jeddo, there take up his residence, learn the language, and so recommend himself to the “best society,” that all suspicion of his intentions should be removed, he might, in all probability, before a couple of years had elapsed, have the run of the country. It would be like a glimpse of Mexico or Peru, when the Spaniards for the first time landed upon the shores of America. Here is a high civilisation, with which Greece, Syria, and Rome have not been concerned. Religion, policy, laws, agriculture, war, manufactures, literature, the drama, the manners of the people, would furnish a chapter in “The Japanese at Home,” which would certainly be read with deep interest. There would be no hardships, or fevers, or sickness, such as infallibly fall to the lot of the African traveller, and such as Dr. Livingstone recently endured. If a man’s inclinations lead him towards either Pole, into the Arctic or Antarctic regions, where so many of our countrymen have found their icy graves, he must at the very least make up his mind to months of dreariness and despondency, ungladdened by the rays of the pleasant sun. Leichardt and his companions had their Australian troubles—but a ramble in Japan would be a mere pleasure excursion.

The facilities for travel—railroads excepted—appear to be quite equal to those which we find in Europe; the hotels or guest-houses, as our own landlords would say, “replete with every comfort the most fastidious taste could desire.” Within two months, a traveller starting from the London Bridge station might be in Jeddo, and so he chose the proper season of the year, the voyage itself would be but a yachting excursion of the most delightful kind. Why will not one or more young Englishmen, with sufficient means, and ample time at their disposal, give three, four, or five