A JAPANESE SERMON




THE FORTY-SEVEN RÔNINS


The books which have been written of late years about Japan have
either been compiled from official records, or have contained the
sketchy impressions of passing travellers. Of the inner life of the
Japanese the world at large knows but little: their religion, their
superstitions, their ways of thought, the hidden springs by which they
move--all these are as yet mysteries. Nor is this to be wondered at.
The first Western men who came in contact with Japan--I am speaking
not of the old Dutch and Portuguese traders and priests, but of the
diplomatists and merchants of eleven years ago--met with a cold
reception. Above all things, the native Government threw obstacles in
the way of any inquiry into their language, literature, and history.
The fact was that the Tycoon's Government--with whom alone, so long as
the Mikado remained in seclusion in his sacred capital at Kiôto, any
relations were maintained--knew that the Imperial purple with which
they sought to invest their chief must quickly fade before the strong
sunlight which would be brought upon it so soon as there should be
European linguists capable of examining their books and records. No
opportunity was lost of throwing dust in the eyes of the new-comers,
whom, even in the most trifling details, it was the official policy to
lead astray. Now, however, there is no cause for concealment; the _Roi
Fainéant_ has shaken off his sloth, and his _Maire du Palais_,
together, and an intelligible Government, which need not fear scrutiny