derived less benefit from their intrigues and apostasy than they expected. One of themselves, Kämpfer, admits this:

"By this submissive readiness to assist the emperor in the execution of his designs, with regard to the final destruction of Christianity in his dominions, it is true, indeed, that we stood our ground so far as to maintain ourselves in the country, and to be permitted to carry on our trade, although the court had then some thoughts of a total exclusion of all foreigners whatsoever. But many generous and noble persons, at court and in the country, judged unfavourably of our conduct. It seemed to them inconsistent with reason that the Dutch should ever be expected to be faithful to a foreign monarch, and one, too, whom they look upon as a heathen, whilst they showed so much forwardness to assist him in the destruction of a people with whom they agreed in the most essential parts of their faith (as the Japanese had been well informed by the Portuguese monks), and to sacrifice to their own worldly interests those who followed Christ in the very same way, and hoped to enter the kingdom of heaven through the same gate. These are expressions which I have often heard from the natives, when the conversation happened to turn upon this mournful subject. In short, by our humble complaisance and connivance, we were so far from bringing this proud and jealous nation to any greater confidence, or more intimate friendship, that, on the contrary, their jealousy and mistrust seemed to increase from that time. They both hated and despised us for what we had done. In the year 1641, soon after the total expulsion of the Portuguese, and the suppression of Christianity among the natives, we were ordered to quit our comfortable factory at Firando, and to confine ourselves, under a very rigid inspection, to the small islet of Desima, which is more like a prison than a factory. So great was the covetousness of the Dutch, and so strong the alluring power of the Japanese gold, that rather than quit the prospect of a trade, (indeed most advantageous,) they willingly underwent an almost perpetual imprisonment, for such in fact is our residence at Desima, and chose to suffer many hardships in a foreign and heathen country, to be remiss in performing divine Service on Sundays and solemn festivals, to leave off praying and singing of psalms, entirely to avoid the sign of the cross, the calling upon the name of Christ in presence of the natives, and all the outer signs of Christianity; and lastly, patiently and submissively to bear the abusive and injurious behaviour of these proud infidels towards us, than which nothing can be offered more shocking to a generous and noble mind.” — Ibid. pp. 52-54.

To this miserable islet, Desima, the Dutch are confined; the island is only 600 feet long, and is joined to the Japanese city, Nagasaki, by a bridge strongly guarded. The most rigid watch is held on the Dutch; no females are allowed in their community. Their vessels are searched, the guns and ammunition removed, and the crews are only allowed to refresh themselves' in this filthy prison, Desima; a fit punishment for their treason to the faith and their brethren. They have the gold for which they bartered the gospel duties, but it is poured molten down their throats. With respect to their practical renunciation of Christianity, we follow Mr. Mac Farlane :

All who serve the Dutch, or have any close dealings with them, are bound to take a solemn oath of renunciation and hatred of the Christian religion, once, twice, or even three times a-year; and, at least at one of

these ceremonies, they are made to trample under foot crosses and crucifixes, with the image of the Redeemer upon them. The ill-meant, mocking, impious jests of Voltaire, as to the Dutch going through the same ceremony, may not have been, at every period, quite destitute of truth. As Lutherans or Presbyterians they may have entertained no more reverence for crosses and crucifixes and images of saints, than was felt by our English Puritans, who, in the days of their prepotency, found a rude delight in destroying such articles, and treating them with every imaginable disrespect. The Portuguese, when driven to despair through their hated rivals, nearly involved the Dutch in their own ruin by announcing to the imperial government that they were Christians like themselves. It behoved the Dutch to convince the Japanese that there was the widest difference between them; that they belonged to a sect quite hostile to that of the Portuguese; that they hated Pope, Jesuits, Franciscans, Dominicans, and all manner of monks and priests. We can, therefore, easily credit that, if put by the Japanese government to that test, the Dutchmen would not much scruple to trample upon the cross in the manner described by Voltaire. A bigoted Presbyterian would even find a pleasure in so doing. An old Nangasakian joke is, that a Dutchman, at the time of the great persecution, being surprised in some place by the Japanese police, and being asked whether he were a Christian, replied, "No! I am a Dutchman.' We fear, indeed, that after any lengthened residence in the country, such religion as these Dutchmen carried with them was almost wholly evaporated. The life led in their prison at Nagasaki was little calculated to foster devotional feelings. Kämpfer says that in his time they lived like a set of heathens, that the principles of Christianity were so little conspicuous in their lives and actions, that the Japanese were absurd in fearing that they would attempt the conversion of the heathens.'-Ibid. pp. 57, 58.

After this Mr. Mac Farlane must have ventured upon a gentle jest, when he goes on to observe: But good and religious men have gone through this ordeal without any detriment to their 'faith or morals; so let not these remarks be taken as un'charitable, or as disrespectful to the Dutch.'

It is, perhaps, fortunate for us that we were never subjected to the like temptations. The history of the English commercial intercourse with Japan does not admit of abridgment, and it is curious as an almost solitary instance of English failure in trade:

Through the help and admirable diplomacy of Adams, a commercial treaty, or a series of privileges, more favourable than any ever enjoyed by Portuguese or by Dutch, was granted to the English, and apparently without any demur or delay on the part of the imperial court.

The first article in these original privileges of 1613 runs thus :-" We give free license to the King of England's subjects, Sir Thomas Smith, Governor, and Company of the East India Merchants, for ever, safely to come into any our ports or empire of Japan, with their ships and merchandise, without hindrance to them or their goods; and to abide, buy, sell, and barter, according to their own manner with all nations; and to tarry so long as they will, and depart at their pleasure."

. The second article exempted English goods from all manner of customs or duties; the third granted to the English full freedom of building houses in any part of the empire, which houses, at their departure, they might freely sell; the fourth article placed the property of any English subject that might die in the empire under the sole control of the captain, merchant, or English resident, and exempted entirely all English subjects, whatever their offences, from the somewhat summary process of Japanese

law; and the three remaining articles were all in the same liberal and most friendly spirit.

These privileges were, however, somewhat modified in 1616, when the English, wherever they might arrive on the coast, were ordered to repair immediately to the port and town Firando, there to sell their merchandise, and not to stay at, or trade, in any other port whatsoever. But it was ordered at the same time, that, in case of contrary winds or bad weather, the English ships might abide in any other port, without paying anchorage duties; and the people were enjoined to treat such ships in a friendly manner, and to sell them whatsoever they might require. At the same time, all the other valuable privileges of 1613 were confirmed. Captain Cock, who established himself at Firando, and remained in the country long after the departure of Saris, paid more than one visit to the imperial court at Jeddo.

Our factory at Firando, or rather, perhaps, those who managed their shipments in England, made an injudicious selection of merchandise, sending out commodities which were not in request in that country. In this manner the trade was conducted, rather at a loss than profit; and this, with some other circumstances of discouragement, induced the East India Company prematurely to abandon the experiment.

"Of the English," says a recent English writer, (Rundall,) "it is simply to be observed, that in their commercial project they failed, and that they retired with honour, and regretted, from the scene of their misadventure." In the year 1623, after upwards of 40,0007. had been uselessly expended, they entirely withdrew from that country and trade.'—Ibid. pp. 66—69.

From that time to the present the Japanese have maintained their policy, not, as we have said, without justification. And we have been thus minute in our historical statement, because we doubt whether here or in the United States much is known of the antecedents of the present state of things in Japan.

We were attracted to the name of Japan, chiefly on account of the commercial interests involved in the proposed American expedition to these islands. Proposed, we say, for we have not heard much of it lately. If this expedition is undertaken as one of aggression, we cannot doubt but that the Americans, fertile in expedients for aggrandisement, will find some occasion for mortal quarrel with the poor islanders. One presents itself in limine: it is the practice of the Japanese authorities to surround all foreign ships on their arrival with a triple circle of guard-boats. A ship-of-war may not unreasonably regard this as an insult. A casus belli is at once established; and a pretext for a collision given. A lesson is to be read: the Japanese towns are battered, and immense destruction of life and property ensues. The local anthorities, military and civil, are held responsible at the seat of government. With one consent they all rip up their bowels-the prescribed method of suicide-in atonement for neglect of duty. The Americans occupy and retain an island on the coast: the old story between China and England is repeated, and free-trade and the Gospel once more enter Japan, through seas of blood. Whether in either case, that of China or Japan, the best course is adopted, either for

recommending our commercial policy or our religion in these places may be questioned.

But having reached Japan, we may as well survey the mysterious region to which an isolated circumstance has transferred some share of public curiosity. The islands forming the combined Japanese and Kurile archipelago are of considerable length, and very scanty width. Adopting Humboldt's parallel view of the original conformation of the Atlantic islands as the summits of a submerged chain of mountains, it seems not improbable that a similar origin may be given to the Japanese group, which is only a single member of a prolonged chain of volcanic peaks, ranging from Kamschatka through the Aleutian, Japanese and Philippine Islands, down to the southern tropic. They are all volcanic,—indeed, some are active volcanoes; and they present an axis more or less parallel with that of the coast. This gives a great diversity of climate; and, as is well known, by the variation in the isothermal lines, the cold region comes down very far on the eastern coast of Asia. The Japanese possessions, therefore, range from a semi-tropical climate to one approaching to that of Kamschatka. We read of the bamboo as indigenous to Japan, and most extensively used; the camphortree and tea-tree are grown in the most southern island, but the Kurile islands, to which the empire extends, have no better climate than that of Norway. This accounts for the very different terms in which travellers describe Japan,-at one time as the chosen seat of fog and frost and storm, at another, as equal to the garden of the Hesperides.

Mr. Mac Farlane, in what he says of the physical geography of Japan, is neither scientific nor consecutive. Indeed, in the absence of any detailed account, we are left to pick up such information from the most scanty and scattered intimations of various writers. At Nagasaki, the southern port, the thermometer is said to range between 35 and 98° Fahrenheit. At Jeddo, the capital, snow falls every year. The population of this place was once reckoned at 2,000,000. It is doubtless a large place, and larger because it is built after the old Oriental type, in which, as in the interior cities of China, as we learn from Mr. Fortune, vast open spaces are enclosed within the walls.

There is a largeness and roundness in the older oriental descriptions, which certainly satisfies the mind and fills it with a composing sense of breadth and magnitude. Japan, as described, is no exception. Everything seems to be on the most imposing scale. Miaco, the ecclesiastical capital, contains precisely, we are assured, 6000 temples. Marco Polo, speaking of Japan, which he dignifies with the sonorous name of Zipangu,

assures us that the great 'palace was roofed with gold considerably thick,-covered with it as we cover churches with lead.' The palace of the Kobo with its gardens is, we are assured, eight miles in circumference: this palace must be of the same aspect as that which

'In Xanadu did Kublai Khan

A stately pleasure-house decree,
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran.'

But there are no rivers of any size in Japan; the narrowness of the islands and the general bearing of the elevation preventing it. The Fudsi Jamma, compared to the Pico in Teneriffe, is the highest volcanic peak, and is said to be 12,000 feet high; the height indeed of the Pico-which is only 3,000 feet short of that of Mont Blanc. It cannot be so high as this, for the Dutch speak of 'the snow seldom melting on it.' We conceive that in such a climate as that of Jeddo, near which the mountain is laid down in the maps, the line of perpetual snow must be below 12,000 feet. The largest island, Niphon, is in length 900 miles; the greatest width of any of the group is about 100 miles.

The government of Japan is remarkable: it recals the double kings of Sparta-dare we say of Brentford? There is a Secular Emperor, the Kobo, and an Ecclesiastical Emperor, the Mikado or Daïri, who reign co-ordinately. Such at least is the common account; but one which we cannot assent to put in this vague way. The government was a sort of theocracy, because an especial sanctity was attached to the person who reigned. In all early states of society the sacerdotal and kingly offices were considered identical. The emperor ruled by divine right and by inheritance, and was the representative descendant of the gods; we do not find, as in the later developments of Buddhism, that he was an incarnation of the Divinity. In fact, this latter view (the Thibetan) may only have arisen from the literal translation of a metaphor. But as in Thibet so in Japan, the theocracy was a convenient theory for the aristocracy of the sacerdotal caste. The emperor in Japan, or the Dalai Lama in Thibet, seems to lead the life of the Lucretian gods. The Mikado lives shut up in his palace, with one wife and twelve concubines, plenty of paper, books, and music.' But the dignity is dreary enough.

"Even to this day," says Kämpfer, " the princes descended from the family, more particularly those who sit on the throne, are looked upon as persons most holy in themselves, and as Popes by birth. And, in order to preserve these advantageous notions in the minds of their subjects, they are obliged to take an uncommon care of their sacred persons, and to do such things, which, examined according to the customs of other nations, would be thought ridiculous and impertinent. It will not be improper to give a few instances. The ecclesiastical emperor thinks that it would be very prejudicial to his dignity and holiness to touch the ground with his fect for this reason, when he intends to go anywhere, he must be carried