hundreds going through the streets at dusk, in this freezing weather, with nothing but nature's covering, with the addition of a thick coat of native soil, and a cloth thrown around their loins. After seeing a few of these poor shivering wretches, crouching along by the side of buildings, in order, if possible, to avoid the cutting wind, one cannot but think that even Japan is not entirely free from misery. Even in death these poor creatures are not allowed their six feet of earth, but are thrown by hundreds into a pit, or more properly, cesspool.

After many tedious delays, finding that there was little chance of having any company, I concluded to make the trip to Yedo alone. I had been very kindly invited "to make myself at home" at the Legation, and having procured through the United States Consul a guard of Yaconins, I started out one morning in February, mounted on a splendid little pony, and followed in single file by the two-sworded gentlemen. The dress of these Yaconins is peculiar and unique. A pair of huge pantaloons, or rather bags, a tight vest, and a coat made with immense sleeves. On foot their head is generally uncovered, but when riding they wear either a skull cap or a neatly made straw hat. In rainy weather they envelop themselves in a straw cloak, which, from its peculiar construction, appears to shed water to a great extent. The swords are not carried by the side as in European nations, but are thrust through a belt, "fore and aft," so as to be in a convenient position for use.

After a ride of about three miles, principally through the upper portion of Yokohama, we arrived at what remained of the burnt town of Kanagawa. All along the road the guard kept up a continual "Hey, hey, hey," to clear the road, and the rapidity with which the lower classes made way proved that they stood in some awe of the military gentlemen; indeed, one or two individuals who did not keep at a sufficient distance from the horses, were gently taught better manners by a sharp cut from a whip.

The town of Kanagawa extends, or rather extended for three miles along the bay of Yedo directly opposite Yokohama, but one afternoon a fire broke out at the windward end of it, and in a few hours it was a heap of ashes. At night the view of the fire was a beautiful one, the flames extending for a league along the shore, and lighting up the entire bay and shipping. As soon as the fire was discovered, sixty men from the

were

United States steamer "Monocacy" sent to assist in subduing it, but they were informed in the most emphatic manner that their assistance was entirely superfluous, and that they might return to their vessel. But now look at an instance of Japanese enterprise. The fire took place on Thursday night; instead of sitting down to bemoan their loss, or waiting a single day for matters to become settled, they start to work the next morning, while the ashes of their old homes are still hot to rebuild the town. Not a moment is lost, but men, women, and children, with tremendous energy, collect materials for their new roof, and when I passed through the place on the following Sunday, not only were there a large number of houses framed, but dozens had roofs nearly completed. Every thing had been cleaned out with the exception of a few mud "godowns," into which the owners had thrust their valuables, and the mud appeared to have withstood the fire very well. That was two weeks previous, and now the houses had risen on both sides of us in a most surprising manner; not palatial residences to be sure, but answering to keep out wind and rain.

We were now on the Tacaido or main road of the empire, a fine macadamized thoroughfare (ubiquitous McAdam) extending from Yedo to the most southern part of the island. We now began to meet large bodies of troops followed by coolies carrying baggage, and officers who were being conveyed in baskets or cangoes. They were all in rapid motion, and I subsequently discovered that they were some of the Tycoon's army en route for the pass in the Hakoni mountains which they were about to fortify. We rode on, keeping to the left as is the custom here, when, as we turned a bend in the road, I noticed just ahead of us an officer in a cango of rather better material than the others, surrounded by a guard who spread themselves across the road, and putting on a forbidding expression, appeared to have doubts about allowing us to pass. I was beginning to think that discretion is the better part of valor when one of my Yaconins shouted "anata!" and rushing up, they turned my pony to one side, and forming themselves into a hollow square, prepared to resist all aggression. In the meantime I had laid my hand on my revolver, and was ready for all sorts of sanguinary

measures.

These Yaconins have to be careful of for eigners under their care, if only in self-defence as their heads are made directly re

sponsible for any injury which the "tojans" may receive. At our grand military display the Tycoon's men drew in their horns, and passed on their way in the most peaceable manner, we doing likewise.

We rode on without meeting with any other obstruction, with the exception of the continued petitions of beggars, who line the Tacaido for miles.

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Every description of suffering humanity were here; some poor creatures that it was perfectly sickening to look at, gather on this road from every part of the island, and having managed to set up a few sticks covered with straw to keep out a portion of the rain, they bow their heads to the ground to all passers by, calling out in the most piteous tones, "Anata, tempo sinjo,” “ Tempo sinjo." It must not be supposed that there is a large amount of pauperism in Japan, for it strikes me that the proportion is small, but it is the lame and deformed who collect from all parts of the country on these few miles of road. In the towns and cities but few beggars are seen. I noticed that these creatures seldom ask in vain, nearly all the passers by having a supply of "cash" which, though of small value, is dealt out to all of them by the piece; but when it is remembered that a "cash" is equal to but one sixteenth of a cent, it will be seen that the beggars do not become rich from their spoils.

At eleven o'clock, having partaken of a cup of the weakest tea imaginable at the ferry inn, we prepared to cross a stream about seventy five yards wide.

Their method of preparing tea is peculiar. They serve one with an almost colorless infusion of the leaves, and although it may be extremely "delicate," the taste of tea is so infinitesimally homoeopathic that I would as soon drink the unadulterated hot water.

The ferry boats are large scows, and as no payment was required from us, I imagine that they are provided at government expense. We spent about half an hour endeavoring to persuade my pony that it was his duty to embark, but he evidently had conscientious scruples, and we finally compromised matters by taking him up bodily, and depositing him in the scow.

We now began to enter the limits of the great city, and the houses and population became thicker at every mile. We arrived at last at the Legation at half past twelve, after a ride of twenty-two miles. While we were waiting at the gate for the appearance of the head man, I was surrounded by a crowd of

gaping women and children who, although they have seen foreigners several times, appear to be able at each new exhibition to discover some new and interesting points in the peculiar biped.

Having delivered my note to the butler (which note looked to the uninitiated eye as if a playful fly had run through a puddle of ink, and then proceeded on a drunken spree over the paper), the gates were thrown open, and I entered the Legation grounds. My bettoe had followed us on foot all the way, and now stood ready to take charge of the pony as soon as I dismounted.

These bettoes are a wonderful set of fellows. Generally small but finely formed, they are dressed in winter in tights, with a loose covering thrown over their shoulders; in summer they content themselves with Dame Nature's covering, but in order to make some slight improvement on the old lady's work, they tattoo themselves in the most grotesque and fanciful manner. On the run they are indeed marvellous, being able to hold their own with any horse. The one I had kept right after us all the way up, and we went at no snail's pace, and appeared to be as fresh as ever on arriving at the end of our journey.

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I found the Legation a fine, large house, built in Japanese style on a single floor, and with paper doors and windows. Mine host the butler, went straightway to work, and had chow-chow" prepared for me at short notice, which I devoured with a relish. I had sent for an interpreter, and shortly after he arrived. He was dressed in European clothes, and had discarded the sword for the more useful if not more ornamental pistol. I soon discovered that he was a good deal of a traveller, having been to the United States with the Commissioners in 1867, and also to England and France. He said that he found English easy to learn, and he spoke very fluently, but that he could not succeed with French, the pronunciation was one too many for him." Not supposing that he would care to be seen in the streets with a foreigner, I asked him to direct the guard to take me to the foreign Concession, and was surprised at his saying that he would walk over there with me if I liked. I was very glad to accept this offer, as my knowledge of the language extends to about a dozen words, which I fling out on all occasions, "regardless of cost" and in a promiscuous manner, in hopes that I may strike something that will convey my meaning. The result, however, is not

always satisfactory. We started out about half past one, accompanied by my invincible guard.

Yedo, I believe, covers more ground than any other city in the world, and a walk through a portion of it gives one some idea of its vast extent.

The streets through which we passed were lined on either side by Daimios' quarters. Each Daimio or Prince was compelled, until recently, to spend six months of the year at Yedo, and some of their establishments are quite grand. Averaging perhaps from ten to fifteen acres each, the ground is enclosed by a fine stone wall. Inside of this and entirely surrounding the compound, are barracks, or quarters for the retinue, while in the centre is the castle and other buildings. There are about three hundred of these Daimios, so that their quarters alone take up a considerable amount of room; in fact, all streets in sight were lined with these enclosures. It is really funny to notice the age at which they allow their small boys to wield swords. Hundreds of little fellows of nine or ten years, strut along the streets with two swords in their belts, and with the same dignified expression that their immortal ancestors have handed down to them, and I have no doubt that they make as free use of their weapons, when excited, as their fathers. The poor dogs have to suffer the most from these weapons, as they are convenient objects to test the edge of a sword. I saw poor beasts with slices off their backs, and minus tails, and one large animal had just been divided as we passed. Cut with one powerful stroke of a sword directly in half, the poor thing was just dying. It appears that all the upper classes are permitted to carry weapons, the merchants being the only exceptions.

A walk of four miles brought us to the new hotel for foreigners. The Concession is at present merely an open lot, no houses having been commenced. The hotel is a fine, large building, nearly completed, of two stories, with large rooms and halls, and, situated directly on the water, commands a fine view of the bay of Yedo. On the way back, I had the honor of being hooted at, and called by epithets which, if translated, I imagine would have been any thing but pleasant, and I thanked my stars for once that I did not comprehend their villainous jargon. When I arrived at the Legation, I was rather fagged out. Twenty-two miles' ride and eight miles' walk I found sufficient to make my

joints ache considerably, and I was glad to tumble in at an early hour. The Legation is situated next door to a large temple, and I was awakened at midnight by the "boom boom" of the gong, and in my half sleepy state, grasped my pistol, imagining that something fearful was about to take place.

The next morning, after breakfast, I started out for a ride around the castle, accompanied as usual by my invincible guard. On our way there we passed through the principal part of the city, which, as far as buildings are concerned, presents very little of interest. A person having seen one town has seen all, as there is very little variety. The same little paper houses, the same overwhelming population blocking up the streets, and the same scrupulous cleanliness pervading every thing. The castle is surrounded by three, moats about one hundred and fifty feet wide, with a wall and embankment inside of the first two. The castle itself is situated on quite a hill, on an artificial island containing at a rough estimate fifty acres. From the inner moat rises a finely sodded bank, about thirty feet high, on top of this is a high and substantal stone wall furthermore deponent saith not, as neither love nor money could effect an entrance. The three moats are spanned by bridges built, as all their bridges are throughout the country, in the most substantial manner. Never built on the level, but always with a slight curve and with narrow plank, they are models of strength and durability. Each moat is filled with countless numbers of wild fowl which no one is allowed to molest. We next ascended Tassojama, a temple hill situated near the centre of the city, from which a splendid view can be obtained of houses in every direction, while behind us is the never failing background to Japanese views, snowclad Fusyama.

The Government, being in constant expec tation of an attack on the city, were exceedingly anxious to get rid of all foreigners, and as the officers at the English Legation were requested to retire to Yokohama, I found it necessary to start on my return immediately after "tiffen," arriving in Yokohama about five o'clock. When we arrived at the custom-house, I informed my guard that it was "all right," and wished them good day, but the fellows would not leave me until they had delivered me with no bones broken at the palatial residence from which I started, when they took their leave in a becoming manner.

PROBABLY, the truth of the familiar saying, that a reputation cannot be assailed by any other man so successfully as by its owner: in other words, that a man, when he fairly sets about it, can "write himself down" faster and more effectually than any other man can do the work for him-was never more signally shown than in the recent publication of "Napoleon's Correspondence" by order of Louis Napoleon.

The object of the latter personage was, of course, the glorification, generally, of 'mon oncle; " though he may have thought that the rays of the halo thus evoked would extend to and include the great captain's successor in office. At any rate, the faith of the nephew in the impeccability of the uncle was exemplary, touching and supreme- as is effectually made obvious by the fact, not only of his ordering the publication, but of his directing the members of the Commission who superintended the publishing, to "make no alteration, suppression or modification of the texts."

The thirteen originally appointed Commissioners pursued their task with great diligence. In the space of six years-from 1858 to 1864-they published no less than fifteen large, closely printed octavo volumes. They performed their task, also, with great fidelity-indeed, with too much fidelity; for, in 1864, the master of ceremonies found it necessary to supersede them by a new Commission of six members, of whom Prince Napoleon was the chief; who were instructed to publish only what the Emperor himself would have made public, had he lived long enough to be his own publisher.

On the subject of this change of editorship, the Edinburgh Review, in a masterly and-as far as it goes-an exhaustive article, of which we make free use as we write, remarks:

If any surprise was felt by the public, it was caused, not by the measure itself, but by the Tact of its having been so long delayed. Had the situation of the French press been different, had there existed in France any of those sure and prompt means for testing public opinion which free countries afford, there can be little doubt that the knowledge of the impression produced by the publication of this correspondence would have quickly dispelled the delusions of those who flattered themselves

that they were raising a monument to the glory of the founder of the Bonaparte dynasty. No pamphleteer, however hostile, could have produced a work half so damaging to the reputation of the imperial hero; no libeller, however unscrupulous, would have dared to invent some of the letters which have thus been given to the world in the blindness of political idolatry. But it was long before the effect on the public outside the imperialist atmosphere could be appeciated, and, in the meantime, fifteen volumes had been published.. The work was expensive and quite beyond the reach of popular readers; it was long and filled up in a great measure with administrative and military matters which deterred indolent minds accustomed to the light food of small chronicles and lively causeries. News. papers and reviews were afraid to tread on such dangerous ground, and withheld their criticism; in a word, the correspondence, all things considered, was little read and still less spoken of. Now and then a political writer, bolder than the rest, would quote some startling passage to show the evils of uncontrolled power and the dangers of excessive centralization, but without daring to add a commentary. So the work proceeded rapidly and noiselessly, watched and appreciated only by a select few. It was half completed before its most zealous promoters had found out that their pious efforts had resulted in the most complete and irrefragable collection of accusing testimony that any one man was ever made to furnish against himself.

Among the strange things connected with Napoleon's career, one of the most strange is the fact that, after a legion of authors have endeavored to set the world right as to the character of the first Emperor of the French, and, in their varied efforts, have represented him in all the phases intermediate between a demon and a deity; leaving the real question, like the authorship of Junius, in such a confused state that its solution seemed to be hopeless; the hero of all these "Lives" should himself have dispelled the fog of uncertainty, and, with his own hand, have rendered a decision of the disputed point in such indisputable terms that dissent, on the part of any intelligent man who will read what is written, is simply impossible.

Hitherto, any man, according to his prejudices or his convictions, might adopt or reject any of Napoleon's "characters," as found in

the pages of the Emperor's self-constituted biographers, on the ground that "that is the English view of the case;" or, "the Prussian; or, "the French;" and so on. As if any one was necessarily less or more correct than any other because its origin was known. As if an anonymous Life of Napoleon might be more credible because its origin was unknown. But now, we have a record which is no man's "view;" which is neither history nor biography as produced by a third person, but is a posthumous confession of the hero himself. It is a photograph, taken from the living subject; and, whether flattering or damning, it is mathematically accurate in every line and feature. The most abject and de'voted of Napoleon's worshippers must admit that this picture is correct; or, that the god of their idolatry misrepresents himself: for it is his own handiwork.

The period of time included in the fifteen volumes of the first Commission, is about sixteen years from the latter part of October, 1793, to the end of August, 1809; that is, from Napoleon's twenty-fourth to his fortieth year. As one may say, from his majority to his maturity-from the commencement of his public life to the highest flight of his imperial power.

The contents of these fifteen volumes of "Correspondence" are not, however, merely letters. Proclamations; messages to the Directory on public affairs, civil as well as military; bulletins; a variety of official documents, not necessarily written by Napoleon, though bearing his signature and issued by his authority; these, and a mass of miscellanies of less importance, help to fill the books; but of letters there are enough. Enough of such as Napoleon "would not have made public, had he lived long enough to be his own publisher," to substantiate what his adversaries have alleged against him; and also enough on matters purely military to justify the intensified praise of even Thiers himself. This latter result was, indeed, hardly needed. The world has long been divided on the question of Napoleon's character; but there is little diversity of opinion as to his military genius.

The various estimates of his character, apart from his qualities as a soldier, owe their existence, mainly, to the. credulity or incredulity of men as to the facts of his carcer; on which subject, the testimony of historians is hopelessly conflicting. But it is remarkable that on some points about which the witnesses agree as to the facts, the public

voice is still diametrically divided between censure and praise. What many men regard as despicable in Napoleon, others hold to be a proof of his greatness. For example, a portion of the readers of this correspondence will concur with the Commissioners when they say-in that inflated style which none but Frenchmen ever attain

What most surprises one in this correspondence, is the impression it gives of the universal and powerful mind which embraced every thing; and which could, with equal facility, rise to the most sublime conceptions and descend to the most trifling details. Now soaring above the world, Napoleon marks out the limits of new states; and, anon, he concentrates his solicitude on the humblest hamlet of his Empire.

For our own part, we find nothing "sur prising" in all that; and, as the Commissioners claim for the object of their panegyric little less than supernatural qualities, it is superfluous for them to be surprised at his capacity for details. But that is only a par tial statement of this matter of detail. Not only did Napoleon mark out new states and supervise hamlets; but, as the reviewer be fore us says,

At the very zenith of his power, with one half of Europe under his rule and the other half in arms against him, he concocted little police plots, planned scurrilous pamphlets for literary hirelings, suggested caricatures which he thought might be telling against his enemies, found time for the ordering of fêtes and monuments, read reports on the chitchat of the salons of Paris, and, with great pride in his superior vigilance, himself denounced their intrigues to his mortified Minister of Police. This activity might have been admired had it been successful; but, unfortunately, the pamphlet, the caricature, and the monument designed by the imperial meddler were generally bad. In spite of his police and counterpolice, his empire was so insecure that-as was shown by the momentary success of the Malet conspiracy-its very existence was at the mercy of a bandful of resolute men. Neither literature nor art, neither trade nor agriculture, throve under his unvarying and stifling solicitude. In France, all was done by the Government; and all, or almost all, was ill done.

All this certainly shows a capacity for detail, but there is nothing in it to command respect and surely nothing to warrant pane gyric. It indicates littleness, not greatness, of character. At the same time, it indicates mere littleness; it involves no moral derelic tion, properly so called. But as the investi