whom are hosts of spies, or more properly inspectors
(for there is no secresy or concealment about this
proceeding), exercises a close surveillance over
the acts of each individual; but, in so far as
one can judge, this system is not felt to be burdensome
by any. All seem to think it the most natural
thing in the world that they should move in the
orbit in which they are placed. The agents of
authority wear their two swords; but, as they never
use them except for the purpose of ripping themselves
up, the privilege does not seem to be felt to
be invidious. My interpreter, a Dutchman, lent
to me by the United States Consul-General, has
been two years in the country, and he assures
me that he never saw a Japanese in a passion, and never
saw a parent beat a child. An inexhaustible
fund of good temper seems to prevail in the community.
Whenever in our discussions on business we get
on rough ground, I always find that a joke brings us
at once upon the level again. Yesterday,
at a formal audience with the Foreign Ministers
(to settle about the handing over of the yacht), they
began to propose that, in addition to the Commissioners,
I should allow some other officers (probably spies
or inspectors) to be present at our discussions
on the clauses of the Treaty. After treating this
seriously for some moments, without settling it
to their satisfaction, I at once carried the day,
by saying laughingly, that as they were six to
one already, they ought not to desire to have more
chances in their favour. This provoked a
counterlaugh and a compliment, and no more was said
about the spies. When the Commissioners came yesterday
afternoon to go through the clauses of the Treaty
with me, I was much pleased with the manner in
which they took to their work, raising questions and
objections in a most business-like manner, but without
the slightest appearance of captiousness or a
desire to make difficulties. Their interpreter,
Moriama, is a very good Dutch scholar, and, of course,
being a remarkably shrewd gentleman withal, has a leading
part in the proceedings; but all seem to take
an intelligent share.
[Sidenote: Temples.]
I went into the temple of which this building forms a part, this morning. Two priests came up to me, knelt down, and laid before me two pages of paper, holding out to me at the some time the painting-brush and Indian inkstand, which is the inseparable companion of every Japanese, and making signs which I interpreted into a request that I would write down my name. I sat down on the floor, and complied with their request, which seemed to please them. The priests appear by no means so wretched here as in China, and the temples are in much better case. I have not, however, seen many of them.
[Sidenote: Political condition.]