One cannot but admire the Japanese, however, for the cleanliness of their houses and for the good-will—­sometimes too much of it—­which they display as well in their commercial dealings as in their colonising schemes.  The custom of daily bathing in water of a boiling-point temperature is carried on by them in Corea as in their own country, notwithstanding which I venture to say that the Japanese are very dirty people.  This remark seems non-coherent and requires, I am afraid, some explanation.

“How can they be dirty if they bathe every day?  I call that being very clean,” I fancy I hear you reply.

So they would undoubtedly be, if they bathed in clean water; but, unfortunately, this is just what they do not do, and, to my uncivilised mind, bathing in filthy water seems ten times more dirty than not bathing at all.  Just imagine a small tank of water in which dozens, if not hundreds, of people have been already boiled before you in your turn use it, and upon which float large “eyes” of greasy matter.  Well, this is what every good Japanese is expected to immerse himself in, right up to his nose, for at least half an hour at a time!  I cannot but admire them for their courage in doing it, but, certainly, from the point of view of cleanliness my view is quite different; for, really and truly, I have always failed to see where the “cleanliness” comes in.  Persons belonging to the wealthier classes have small baths of their own, in the steaming hot liquid of which bask in turns the family itself, their friends, the children and servants; and probably the same water is used again and again for two or three days in succession.

I remember well how horrified I was one evening, in the Land of the Rising Sun, when, on visiting a small village, I was, as a matter of politeness on their part, requested to join in the bath.  Being a novice at Japanese experiences, and as their request was so pressing, I thanked them and accepted; whereupon, I was buoyantly led to the bath.  Oh what a sight!  Three skinny old women, “disgraces,” I may almost call them, for certainly they could not be classified under the designation of “graces,” were sitting in a row with steaming water up to their necks, undergoing the process of being boiled.  What! thought I, panic-stricken—­am I to bathe with these three ... old lizards?  Oh no, not I! and I made a rush for the door, greatly to the annoyance of the people, who not only considered me very dirty, but also very rude in not availing myself of their polite invitation!  The next morning as I took my cold bath as usual in beautifully clean spring water, I was condemned and pitied as a lunatic!  Such are the different customs of different people.

[Illustration:  THE PEKIN PASS]