LESSON 1. ENGLISH WIT AND HUMOR. Every country and every language has its own type of wit and humor. In the following pages we have some examples of English humorous anecdotes, jokes, puns and riddles. Many funny stories are based on examples of ignorance or misunderstanding. The first story is of this kind. Although the answer of the man is as absurd as it is amusing, we have to admit that it is strictly logical. GOOD LOGIC "This letter's too heavy," said the post office clerk. "You'll have to put another stamp on it." "What s the good of that?" asked the man. "If I stick another stamp on it, that'll make the letter heavier still, won't it?" ------------------------------------ The second story is another example of an answer which is absurd in spite of its apparent logic. IGNORANCE EXCUSES IGNORANCE. "What are you doing, dear?" a mother said to her little four-year-old daughter. "I'm writing a letter to Alice," the little girl replied. "But dear" said the mother, "you don't know how to write." The little girl, however, as she calmly continued making marks on the paper with her pencil, answered: "Well, mother, Alice doesn't know how to read, so it doesn't matter." ------------------------------------ The next story is also one which concerns a little girl's sense of logic. This time, however, the child's reasoning is quite sound, and her answer is more than usually shrewd. A BAD BARGAIN. The little girl had been very naughty, and her mother declared that instead of punishing her she would just get a good little girl in her place. But the daughter was not in the least afraid "You couldn't," she laughed. Her mother was surprised and asked the reason. "Because," explained the little girl, "nobody would be silly enough to give you a good girl in exchange for a bad one!" ------------------------------------ The following story is about an amusing misunderstanding due to the fact that the past tense of the verb to smell (i.e. smelt) is pronounced and spelt exactly in the same way as the present tense of the verb to smelt. SMELLING AND SMELTING. An old lady was examining with great interest the professor's wonderful collection of mineral ores. She took up one specimen, looked at it closely and said, "What do you call this, professor?" "That is silver ore," was the answer. "Very interesting." she replied. "But how ever do they obtain the silver ?" "Oh, it's quite a simple process. They merely smelt it." Then the old lady put her nose to it and started smelling it. She then said, "I've smelt it, too; but I can't see any silver!" ------------------------------------ The next two stories are examples of amusing tricks or dodges. In the first one the school inspector confesses that he, in common with schoolboys, experiences difficulties in connection with English spelling; and, instead of teaching the boys how to overcome a difficulty, merely tells them a way in which they can dodge it. THE INSPECTOR'S DODGE. At a school inspection, some of the boys found a difficulty in the correct placing of he letters "i" and "e" in such words as "believe," "receive" etc., when the inspector said, with a smile : "My boys, I will give you a rule which never fails in such cases; one that I always use myself." The pupils were all attention, and even the master seemed very eager to learn how to overcome this difficulty. The inspector continued, "It is simply this : Write the 'i' and 'e' exactly alike and put the dot in the middle over them." ------------------------------------ The next story is also one that describes an amusing and ingenious trick by which a business firm, in a perfectly legal way, were enabled to avoid paying a high import duty. DODGING THE IMPORT DUTY. Some Boston men once bought a mineral water spring situated in Canada, bottled the water and imported it into the United States. As the water was of a particularly good quality it soon gained a reputation and was sold in large quantities. One day, however, the United States government imposed an import duty of 25 cents a gallon on all mineral spring water. This, of course, was a great blow to the business men, for it meant a very serious decrease in their profits, so they went to a New York lawyer and asked him if there were any way in which they could avoid paying the tax. The lawyer thought over the problem, and at last found a solution. "Freeze your water," he said with a smile. "Import it into the United States in the form of blocks of ice, and bottle it on this side of the border. There isn't any duty on ice." The scheme worked and is still working. This particular spring water is drunk all over the thanks to the United States to-day, and thanks to the ingenious dodge found by the lawyer, the firm is saved 25 cents on every gallon of it. ------------------------------------ PUNS. A pun is a play upon words, especially when two words are pronounced alike. A well-known English humorist once boasted that he could make a pun on any subject. "Well, then," said a friend, "make one on the King." "The King is not a subject," replied the witty man. "Very well," continued his friend. "Make a pun on the name of Dunlop, the man who invented the pneumatic tire." "That's quite easy." replied the humorist. "You only have to lop off the last syllable, and it's dun [done]!" "Can you make a pun on the name of Julius Cesar?" the friend went on. "Yes," said the other, "if you will tell me the name of the lady he sees." [The name "Julius Cesar" is pronounced in the same way as most people pronounce "Julius sees her."] "Can you give me a pun on the name of a fruit?" then said his friend. "Oh yes," said the joker, "I can give you a pear." [The word "pear," a sort of fruit, is pronounced exactly like the word "pair," meaning two.] "Now make a pun about a gift," continued his friend. "No I won't," said the humorist. "I've said quite enough for the present." [For the present has two meanings: for the gift and for the time being.] ------------------------------------ RIDDLES. A riddle is a joke in the form of a question and an answer. Sometimes a riddle is simply a puzzle, sometimes it consists of a mere trick, but more often the answer contains a pun. Here are two examples of puzzle riddles: -- "I went to the wood and got it. I sat down to look for it, but as I couldn't find it, l had to go home with it." The answer is, "A thorn in my foot." It means that somebody went to a wood, and that a tiny thorn entered his foot. He tried to find it, so as to pull it out, but as it was so small it was invisible, and he was forced to go home with the thing that he could not find. "What is it that when you throw it up is white, and when it comes down is yellow?" The answer is, "An egg." Here are two examples of trick puzzles: You ask, "Why does a hen cross a road?" The person you ask thinks of all possible reasons, and then you give the real reason, which is so obvious that no one has thought of it: "A hen crosses the road in order to get to the other side." Or you ask, "Who is the man who wears the biggest boots?" The answer, of course, is: "The man with the biggest feet." Here are two examples of riddles with puns. "Why is Athens like the wick of a candle?" Answer: "Because it is in the middle of Greece [grease]." Greece, of which Athens is the capital, is pronounced exactly like the word grease, of which a candle is often composed. A particularly good pun-riddle is the following: "Why need no man starve in a desert?" The answer is, "Because of the sand which is there." At first sight this does not seem to be a logical answer, but when we consider that the words sand which is are generally pronounced in the same way as sandwiches, we note that no one starves in a place where there are sandwiches. LESSON 2. THE ADVENTURE OF THE THREE STUDENTS. This is a slightly abridged and otherwise modified version of one of the famous Sherlock Holmes stories. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, then a struggling young medical doctor, wrote the first of them. gA Study in Scarlet," in 1887, since when he has written nearly sixty others, the last appearing in The Strand Magazine of April, 1927. Sherlock Holmes is an amateur detective, who achieves his successes by dint of careful observation and logical reasoning. Dr, Watson is his friend and companion, and is supposed to write the stories. In the present story we see how, by accurate observation and reasoning, Sherlock Holmes is able to discover which of three University students attempted to cheat in an examination. -------------------------------------------- PARTT. THE MYSTERY. It was in the year 1895 that certain events caused Mr. Sherlock Holmes and myself to spend some weeks in one of our great University towns, and it was during this time that the adventure that I am about to relate occurred. We were staying at the time in lodgings close to a library where Sherlock Holmes was doing some literary research work. Here it was that one evening we received a visit from an acquaintance, Mr. Hilton Soames, tutor and lecturer at the College of St. Luke's. Mr. Soames was a tall man, of a nervous and excitable disposition. I had always known him to be restless in his manner, but on this particular occasion he was in such a state of agitation that it was clear something very unusual had occurred. "I trust, Mr. Holmes, that you can spare me a few hours of your valuable time. We have had a very painful incident at St. Luke's, and really, but for the happy chance of your being in the town, I should have been at a loss what to do." "I'm very busy just now," my friend answered. "I should much prefer that you called in the help of the police." "No, no, my dear sir; such a course is utterly impossible. This is one of those cases where, for the reputation of the college, it's most essential to avoid scandal. I beg you, Mr. Holmes, to do what you can." "Well," said my friend, "what's the trouble?" "I must explain to you, Mr. Holmes, that to-morrow's the first day of the examination for the Fortescue Scholarship. I'm one of the examiners. My subject's Greek, and the first of the papers consists of a long passage of Greek translation which the candidate has not seen. This passage is printed on the examination paper, and it would naturally be an immense advantage if the candidate could prepare it in advance. For this reason, of course, we take great care to keep the paper secret. "To-day about three o'clock the proofs of this paper arrived from the printers. I had to read it over carefully, as the text must be absolutely correct. At four-thirty my task was not yet completed. I had, however, promised to take tea in a friend's rooms, so I left the proof on my desk. I was absent rather more than one hour. As I approached my door I was astonished to see a key in it. For an instant I imagined that I'd left my own there, but on feeling in my pocket I found that it was all right. The only duplicate which existed, so far as I knew, was that which belonged to my servant Bannister, a man who has looked after my room for ten years, and whose honesty is absolutely above suspicion. I found that the key was indeed his, that he had entered my room to know if wanted tea, and that he had very carelessly left the key in the door when he came out. His visit to my room must have been within a very few minutes of my leaving it. "The moment I looked at my table I was aware that someone had been touching my papers. The proof was in three long sheets. I had left them all together. Now I found that one of them was lying on the floor, one was on the side table near the window, and the third was where I had left it." Holmes interrupted. "The first page on the floor, the second near the window, and the third where you left it." "Exactly, Mr. Holmes. You astonish me. How could you possibly know that?" "Pray continue your very interesting statement." "I called Bannister at once. He swore solemnly that he had not touched the papers, and I'm convinced that he was speaking the truth. He was very much upset by the incident. He nearly fainted when we found that somebody had certainly been meddling with the papers. I gave him a little brandy and left him in a chair while I made a most careful examination of the room. On the table close to the window were several chips from a pencil which had been sharpened. A broken tip of lead was lying there, too. Evidently the rascal had copied the paper in a great hurry, had broken his pencil, and had been obliged to put a fresh point to it." "Excellent!" said Holmes, who was getting interested. "That was not all. I have a new writing table with a fine surface of red leather. I'm prepared to swear, and so's Bannister, that it was smooth and undamaged. Now I found a clean cut in it about three inches long -- not a mere scratch, but a positive cut. Not only this, but on the table I found a small ball of black dough, or clay, with specks of something which looks like sawdust in it. I'm convinced that these marks were left by the man who meddled with the papers. I was at my wits' ends, when suddenly the happy thought occurred to me that you were in the town, and I came straight round to put the matter into your hands. Do help me Mr. Holmes! You see my dilemma. Either I must find the man, or else the examination must be postponed until fresh papers are prepared, and since this cannot be done without explanation, a terrible scandal must result, which will throw a cloud not only on the college but on the University." "I shall be happy to look into it and to give you such advice as I can," said Holms, rising and putting on his overcoat. [Mr. Soames informs Sherlock Holmes that an Indian student by the name of Daulat Ras was the only person who had visited his study between the time of the arrival of the proofs and the discovery that they had been touched.] LESSON 3. THE ADVENTURE OF THE THREE STUDENTS. PART U. THE BEGINNING OF THE ENQUIRY It was already twilight when we reached the scene of our problem. Holmes stopped and looked earnestly at the window of Mr. Soames' room. He approached it, and standing on tiptoe looked into the room. The lecturer unlocked the door and we stood at the entrance while Holmes examination of the carpet. "I'm afraid there are no signs here," said he. "One could hardly hope for any upon so dry a day. Your servant seems to have quite recovered. You left him in a chair you say; which chair?" "By the window there." "I see. Near this little table. Of course, what has happened is very clear. The man entered and took the papers, sheet by sheet, from the center table. He carried them over to the window table, because from there he could see if you came across the courtyard, and so could make his escape if necessary." "As a matter of fact, he could not," said Soames, "for I entered by the side door." "Ah, that's good! Well, anyhow, that was in his mind. Let me see the three sheets. No finger impressions -- no! Well, he carried over this one first and he copied it. How long would it take him to do that, using every possible abbreviation? A quarter of an hour, not less. Then he threw it down and seized the next. He was copying that one when your return caused him to make a very hurried retreat -- very hurried, since he hadn't time to replace the papers which would tell you that he'd been there. He wrote so furiously that he broke his pencil, and had, as you observe, to sharpen it again. This is of interest, Watson. The pencil was about the usual size, with a soft lead; the outer color was dark blue, the maker's name was printed in silver letters, and the piece remaining is only about an inch and a half long. Look for such a pencil, Mr. Soames, and you've got your man. When I add that he possesses a large and very blunt knife, you have an additional piece of evidence. Mr. Soames was somewhat astonished at this flood of information. "I can follow the other points," said he, "the soft lead the color, the silver letters, the large and blunt knife, but really, how you come to know the length -- " Holmes held out a small chip with the letters NN and a space of clear wood after them. "You see?" "No, I'm afraid that even now -- " "You don't see the meaning of the NN? It's at the end of a word. You are aware that Johann Faber is the most common maker's name. Is it not clear that there is just as much of the pencil left as usually follows the Johann?" "Now let us look at the central table," Sherlock Holmes continued. "This small lump of clay is, I presume, the black stuff you spoke of. Roughly like a pyramid in shape and hollowed out, I perceive. As you say, there appear to be grains of sawdust in it. Dear me, this is very interesting. And the cut -- a positive tear, I see. It began with a thin scratch and ended in a jagged hole. I am much indebted to you for directing my attention to this case, Mr. Soames. Where does that door lead to?" "To my bedroom." "Have you been in it since your adventure?" "No, I came straight away for you." "I should like to have a glance round. What a charming old-fashioned room! Perhaps you will kindly wait a minute until I've examined the floor. No, I see nothing. What about this curtain? You hang your clothes behind it. If anyone were forced to conceal himself in this room he must do it there, since the bed's too low and the wardrobe too shallow. No one there, I suppose?" As Holmes drew the curtain I was aware, from his attitude, that he was prepared for an emergency. As a matter of fact the drawn curtain disclosed nothing but three or four suits of clothes hanging from a line of pegs. Holmes turned away, and stooped suddenly to the floor." "Hallo! What's this?" said he. It was a small pyramid of black, dough-like stuff, exactly like the one upon the table of the study. Holmes held it out on his open palm in the glare of the electric light. "Your visitor seems to have left traces in your bedroom as well as in your study, Mr. Soames." "What could he have wanted there?" "I think it's clear enough. You came back by an unexpected way, and so he had no warning until you were at the very door. What could he do? He caught up everything which would betray him, and he rushed into your bedroom to conceal himself." "Good gracious, Mr. Holmes, do you mean to tell me that all the time I was talking to Bannister in this room we had the man prisoner if we'd only known it?" "So I read it. I understand you to say that there are three students who use these stairs and are in the habit of passing your door?" "Yes, there are." "And are they all in for this examination?" "Yes." "Have you any reason to suspect any one of them more than the others?" Soames hesitated. "It s a very delicate question," said he. "One hardly likes to throw suspicion where there are no proofs." "Let's hear the suspicions. I'll look after the proofs." "I'll tell you, then, in a few words the character of the three men who inhabit these rooms. The lowest of the three is Gilchrist, a fine scholar and athlete. He's a fine, manly fellow, our champion long-distance jumper. His father was the notorious Sir Jabez Gilchrist, who ruined himself in horse-racing. My scholar has been left very poor, but he is hard-working and industrious. He'll do well. "The second floor is inhabited by Daulat Ras, the Indian. He's a quiet, inscrutable fellow, as most of these Indians are. He's well up in his work, though Greek's his weak subject. He's steady and methodical." "The top floor belongs to Miles McLaren. He's a brilliant fellow when he chooses to work -- one of the brightest intellects of the University, but he's irregular, dissipated, and without moral principles. He was nearly expelled over a card scandal in his first year. He has been idling all this term, and he must look forward with dread to this examination." "Then that's the one you suspect?" "I dare not go so far as that. But of the three he's perhaps the least unlikely." "Exactly. Now, Mr. Soames, let us have a look at your servant, Bannister." He was a little white-faced, clean-shaven, gray-haired fellow of fifty. He was still suffering from this sudden disturbance of the quiet routine of his life. His plump face was twitching with his nervousness, and his fingers could not keep still. "We are investigating this unhappy business, Bannister," said his master. "Yes, sir." "I understand," said Holmes, "that you left your key in the door?" "Yes, sir." "Wasn't it very extraordinary that you should do this on the very day when there were these papers inside?" "It was most unfortunate, sir. But I have occasionally done the same thing at other times." "When did you enter the room?" "It was about half-past four. That's Mr. Soames' tea-time." "How long did you stay?" "When I saw that he was absent I went out of the room at once." "Did you look at those papers on the table?" "No, sir; certainly not." "How came you to leave the key in the door?" "I had the tea-tray in my hand. I thought I'd come back for the key. Then I forgot." "When Mr. Soames returned and called for you, you were very much disturbed?" "Yes, sir. Such a thing has never happened during the many years that I've been here. I very nearly fainted, sir." "So I understand. Where were you when you began to feel bad?" "Where was I, sir? Why here, near the door." "That's singular, because you sat down in that chair over yonder near the corner. Why did you pass these other chairs?" "I don t know, sir. It didn't matter to me where I sat." "I really don't think he knew much about it, Mr. Holmes. He was looking very bad -- quite ghastly!" "You stayed here when your master left?" "Only for a minute or so. Then I locked the door and went to my room." "Whom do you suspect?" "Oh, I wouldn't venture to say, sir. I don't believe there's any gentleman in this University who's capable of doing such an action. No, Sir, I won't believe it." "Thank you; that'll do," said Holmes. LESSON 4. THE ADVENTURE OF THE THREE STUDENTS. PART V. THE END OF THE ENQUIRY. When the servant had retired, Holmes turned to Soames: "The three students are probably in their rooms. I should like to pay a little visit to each of them. Is it possible?" "No difficulty in the world," Soames answered. "This set of rooms is quite the oldest in the college, and it's not unusual for visitors to go over them. Come along, and I'll personally conduct you." [Holmes, Watson and Soames set out to visit the three students in turn under the pretext of observing the curious architecture ancient furniture and carvings. In the first two cases Holmes makes a sketch and breaks his pencil so as to give himself an opportunity of borrowing the student's knife. In the case of the third visit, the student, McLaren, refused to let them into his room. "I don't care who you are," he roared in an angry voice. "To-morrow's the exam., and I m busy."] "A rude fellow," said our guide, with some indignation. "Of course he did not realize that it was I who was knocking, but none the less his conduct was very impolite, and, indeed, under the circumstances, rather suspicious." Holmes's comment was a curious one. "Can you tell me his exact height?" he asked. "Really, Mr. Holmes, I cannot undertake to say. He's taller than the Indian, not so tall as Gilchrist. I suppose five foot six would be about it." "That's very important," said Holmes. "And now, Mr. Soames, I wish you good-night." Our guide cried aloud in his astonishment and disappointment. "Good gracious, Mr. Holmes, you're surely not going to leave me so suddenly! You don't seem to realize the position." But Holmes reassured him. "You can be perfectly easy in your mind. We shall certainly find some way out of your difficulties. I shall come round to-morrow morning early and have a chat with you on the matter. In the meantime, change nothing. Act as if nothing whatever had happened." [As Sherlock Holmes and Watson returned to their lodgings, they commented on the case. Watson was inclined to suspect the inhospitable and bad-tempered McLaren. Holmes wondered at the strange behavior of Bannister. The pencil and knife clues had proved disappointing. Early next morning Holmes and Watson start out for college.] "Soames will be in a dreadful state of nervousness until we are able to tell him something positive," said Holmes. "Have you anything positive to tell him?" "I think so." "You have formed a conclusion?" "Yes, my dear Watson; I have solved the mystery." "But what fresh evidence could you have got?" He held out his hand. On the palm were three little pyramids of black doughy clay. "Why, Homes, you had only two yesterday!" "And one more this morning. It's a fair argument that wherever No.3 came from is also the source of Nos.1 and 2. Eh, Watson?" The unfortunate tutor was in a state of pitiable agitation. In a few hours the examinations would commence, and he was still in the dilemma between making the facts public and allowing the guilty person to compete for the valuable scholarship. "Thank Heaven that you have come! I feared that you had given it up in despair. What am I to do? Shall the examination proceed?" "Yes; let it proceed, by all means." "But this rascal-- ?" "He shall not compete." "You know him?" "I think so. If this matter is not to become public we must give ourselves certain powers, and act as if we were judge and jury. You there, if you please, Soames! Watson, you here! I'll take the arm-chair in the middle. I think that we are now sufficiently imposing to strike terror into a guilty breast. Kindly ring the bell!" Bannister entered, and shrank hack in evident surprise and fear at our judicial appearance. "You will kindly close the door," said Holmes. "Now Bannister, will you please tell us the truth about yesterday's incident?" "I have told you everything, sir." "Nothing to add?" "Nothing at all sir." "Well then, I must make some suggestions to you. When you sat down on that chair yesterday, did you do so to conceal some object which would have shown who had been in the room?" Bannister's face was ghastly. "No sir; certainly not." "It's only a suggestion," said Holmes. "I frankly admit that I'm unable to prove it. But it seems probable enough, since the moment that Mr. Soames' back was turned you released the man who was hiding in that bedroom." Bannister licked his dry lips. "There was no man, sir." "Ah, that's a pity, Bannister. Up to now you may have spoken the truth, but now I know that you have lied." "There was no man, sir." "In that case you can give us no further information. Would you please remain in the room? Stand over there near the bedroom door. Now, Soames, I'm going to ask you to have the great kindness to go up to the room of young Gilchrist, and to ask him to step down into yours." An instant later the tutor returned, bringing with him the student. He was a fine figure of a man, tall and active-looking, with a pleasant open face. His troubled blue eyes glanced at each of us, and finally rested with an expression of terror upon Bannister in the further corner. "Just close the door," said Holmes. "Now, Mr. Gilchrist, we are all quite alone here, and no one need ever know one word of what passes between us. We can be perfectly frank with each other. We want to know, Mr. Gilchrist, how you, an honorable man, ever came to commit such an action as that of yesterday." The unfortunate young man cast a look full of horror and reproach at Bannister. "No, no. Mr. Gilchrist, sir; I never said a word -- never one word!" cried the servant. "No, but you have now," said Holmes. "Now, sir, you must see that after Bunnister's words your position is hopeless, and that your only chance lies in a frank confession." For a moment Gilchrist tried to control his features. The next he had thrown himself on his knees beside the table, and, burying his face in his hands, he burst into a storm of passionate sobbing. LESSON 5. TIIE ADVENTURE OF THE THREE STUDENTS. PART W. THE SOLUTION. "Come, come," said Holmes, kindly; "it is human to err, and at least no one can accuse you of being a hardened criminal. Perhaps it would be easier for you if I were to tell Mr. Soames what occurred. Listen: "The first conclusion that I came to was that the man who entered knew that the papers were there. How did he know? When I approached your room I examined the window. I was measuring how tall a man would need to be in order to see as he passed what papers were on the central table. I am six feet high, and I could do it with an effort. No one less than that would have a chance. Already, you see, I had reason to believe that if one of your three students was a man of unusual height he was the most worth watching of the three. I could make nothing of the scratch and the lumps of black stuff until you mentioned that Gilchrist was a long-distance jumper. Then the whole thing came to me in an instant and I only needed certain proofs which I soon obtained. "What happened was this: This young fellow had employed his afternoon at the athletic grounds, where he had been practicing the jump. He returned carrying his jumping shoes, which are provided, as you are aware with several sharp spikes. As he passed your window he saw, by means of his great height, these proofs upon your table, and guessed what they were. No harm would have been done had it not been that as he passed your door, he perceived the key which had been left by the carelessness of your servant. A sudden temptation came over him to enter and see if they were indeed the proofs. It was not a dangerous thing to do, for he could always pretend that he had simply looked in to ask a question. "Well, when he saw that they were indeed the proofs, it was then that he yielded to the temptation. He put his shoes on the table. What was it you put on that chair near the window?" "Gloves," said the young man. Holmes looked triumphantly at Bannister. "He put his gloves on the chair, and took the proofs, sheet by sheet, to, copy them. He thought the tutor must return by the main gate, and that he would see him. As we know, he came by the side gate. Suddenly he heard him at the very door. There was no possible escape. He forgot his gloves but he caught up his shoes and darted into the bedroom. You observe that the scratch on that table is slight at one side, but deepens in the direction of the bedroom door. That in itself is enough to show us that the shoes had been drawn in that direction, and that the culprit had taken refuge there. The earth round the spike had been left on the table and a second sample was loosened and fell in the bedroom. I may add that I walked out to the athletic grounds this morning, saw that sticky black clay is used in the jumping pit and carried away a specimen of it, together with some of the fine tan or sawdust which is scattered over it to prevent the athlete from slipping. Have I told the truth, Mr. Gilchrist?" "Yes, sir, it is true," said he. "Good heavens, have you nothing to add?" cried Soames. "Yes, sir, I have. I have a letter here Mr. Soames, which I wrote to you early this morning in the middle of a restless night. Here it is, sir. You will see that I have said, 'I have determined not to go in for the examination. I have been offered a commission in the Rhodesian Police, and I am going out to South Africa at once.'" "I am indeed pleased to hear that you did not intend to profit by your unfair advantage," said Soames. "But why did you change your purpose?" Gilchrist pointed to Bannister. "There's the man who sent me in the right path," said he. "Come, now Bannister," said Holmes, "It'll be clear to you from what I've said that only you could have let this young man out, since you were left in the room and must have locked the door when you went out. As to his escaping by that window, it was incredible. Can't you clear up the last point in this mystery, and tell us the reason for your action?" "It was simple enough, sir, if you'd only known; but with all your cleverness it was impossible that you could know. A long time ago, I was butler to old Sir Jabez Gilchrist this young gentleman's father. When he was ruined I came to the college as a servant but I never forgot my old employer. I watched his son all I could f or the sake of the old days. Well, sir, when I came into this room yesterday when the alarm was given, the first thing I saw was Mr. Gilchrist's tan gloves lying on that chair. If Mr. Soames saw them he would know who had been here. I sat down on that chair and nothing would move me until Mr. Soames went for you. Then out came my poor young master that I'd known since he was a baby, and he confessed it all to me. Wasn't it natural, sir, that I should save him, and wasn't it natural, too, that I should try to speak to him as his dead father would have done, and make him understand that he could not profit by such a deed? Could you blame me, sir?" "No, indeed," said Holmes, heartily, springing to his feet. "Well, Soames, I think we have cleared your little problem up, and our break-fast awaits us at home. Come, Watson! As to you, sir, I trust that a bright future awaits you in Rhodesia. For once you have fallen low. Let us see in the future how high you can rise." LESSON 6. NEWSPAPER ITEMS. BOY SCOUT CAMPS The Union of Japan Boy Scouts, organized by 740 companies in the country, has established a camp village on the slope of Mount Aso in Iida-mura, Oita-ken, some twenty-five miles from Beppu. It is intended to make the place a center for the training of boy scouts in future. Another summer camp has been established in Miai-mura, a suburb of Okazaki on the Tokaido, for boys in the Kanto, Central and Kinki districts. SUDDEN DEATH OF UNIVERSITY LECTURER. Oxford, May 31st. The death occurred here last night of Dr. Charles Watson, lecturer on social science at St. Luke's College, and author of several works on social and educational problems. For some months past, Dr. Watson had been suffering from heart trouble; but as this did not seem to be of a serious nature, and as he had been feeling much better for the past few weeks, his death was entirely unexpected, and came as a great shock to the members of his family and to his many friends. He was born in 1871 at Nottingham, where he received his early education. He subsequently studied at London University and at the University of Geneva, Switzerland, where he obtained his doctor's degree. At the age of 29 he married the youngest daughter of Major-General Stanley. His eldest son, now an electrical engineer in London, was born in 1900. A second son was born in 1902, and a daughter a few years later. Although somewhat eccentric in his habits and behavior, Dr. Watson was exceedingly popular among his students, who recognized his genius and felt for him a very real affection. The death of Dr. Watson, at the comparatively early age of 56, is a loss to the educational world, and particularly to the University with which his name is associated. THE WEATHER. Tokyo, March 25th. Apart from cloudy intervals during the morning, the weather will be fine in the Tokyo district to-day. The wind will be mostly from the south, increasing in strength towards the evening. Windy weather is reported from Manchuria, and severe gales from the Shanghai district. A cyclone was reported near Formosa at midnight, moving in the direction of China. Tokyo, July 18th. Weather conditions in the Tokyo district are likely to remain unchanged for the next few days. Clear skies and light winds from the north are reported from the Hokkaido. An exceptional degree of heat is reported from Formosa, Shanghai, and South China. Tokyo, August 19th. Heavy rain fell yesterday throughout the Main Island and Shikoku. Rainy weather is likely to continue for the next few days. Exceptionally windy weather is reported from Kyushu and the south, amounting in certain districts to a gale. TELEPHONE SERVICE TO THE CONTINENT. London, April 28th, 1927. With the opening on Friday of a group of lines of the new telephonic cable to Belgium, an improvement in the telephone service between this country and the Continent is to be expected. The cable was laid last year, and the new lines to Brussels are now in use. Other lines to Antwerp will be opened soon. The authorities state that the new cable should give greatly improved hearing and a quicker service. The new cable to France, which will not be opened for some little time, will eventually provide direct telephonic communication between Great Britain and Switzerland. At present, such communication can be obtained only over the French lines. DR. BUTLER LECTUICES ON RUSKIN. Dr. Soames Butler, the well-known authority on social and economic problems, gave a lecture last night at the London School of Economics. The lecture was entitled "The Doctrines of John Ruskin." In the course of his two hours' talk the lecturer gave an account of the life and work of that great but somewhat eccentric genius. He pointed out in what manner and to what extent he had influenced the thought and ideals of the educational world of the past generation. While showing sympathy for the aims and ideals of Ruskin (a sympathy which, he said, amounted almost to reverence), the lecturer criticized the obvious defects and weak points in his social and economic doctrines. The lecture was followed with great interest by his audience, which was composed, for the greater part, of the students of the college. On Monday next Dr. Butler will lecture on "The Influence of Herbert Spencer on Modem Thought." FIRES. On the 5th instant at about 1.30 p.m., while a strong northeast wind was blowing, a fire broke out in Honjo-mura, (Hondyo-mura) Shimane-ken (Simane-ken). The flames spread rapidly, and by 6 p.m. eighty houses, including a postoffice and a branch of the Matsue Bank, were completely destroyed and ten others partially burnt. The loss is heavy and is believed to amount to half a million yen. A disastrous fire broke out in Hihoro-mura, Abashiri (Abasiri), Hokkaido, yesterday morning at 10 o'clock, and by 3 p.m. eighty houses had been burnt. The loss exceeds \250,000. NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH! An amusing and most interesting play entitled " Nothing but the Truth " was performed last night at the Imperial Hotel Theatre by the Tokyo Amateur Dramatic Society before an enthusiastic audience. In the play a young man makes a bet that he will say nothing but the truth in the course of twenty-four hours. His bet is accepted, and we see by his experience how difficult it is in modern conditions to be perfectly sincere and to make no statement which is not absolutely true. At every instant it is to his advantage to tell a lie. In spite of everything, the young man succeeds in his undertaking and finally wins the bet. No sooner, however, has the period of twenty-four hours come to an end than he relieves the difficult situation by dint of a few bold and successful lies. The actors are deserving of all praise for the manner in which they played their parts, and the audience showed their appreciation by applauding heartily. This play is one of the most successful efforts of the Tokyo Amateur Dramatic Society. The second performance will take place to-night. IRON FROM JAPANESE SAND. For many years past it has been known that there are in the northern part of Japan extensive deposits of sand containing a certain proportion of iron ore. Although so far no process has been discovered by which the iron may be successfully extracted from the sand, it is now reported that new efforts are to be made in this direction. It is expected that by some new process, the nature of which is at present kept secret, it will be possible in the near future to produce iron cheaply and economically. If this idea is realized Japan will benefit very considerably, for at present we have to depend almost entirely on foreign countries for our supply of iron ore. We await with interest the development of the idea of which the consequences may be of great importance. NEW STUDANT ASSOCIATION. The inauguration ceremony of an association called the Zen Daigaku Yamato Damashil (Damasii) Renmei was held in Hibiya Park on the 6th instant. There were present a large number of students representing the Tokyo Imperial University, the Meiji (Meidi), Keio and Commercial Universities, and fourteen other colleges. Following the opening address by Mr. Nakamura, the regulations of the new association were approved, a declaration was made, and a resolution was adopted. Among the persons who sent messages of congratulation to the meeting were Viscount Kiyoura, Drs. Sawayanagi and Mano, and Mr Toyama. ENGLISH TEACHERS' CONFERENCE. Plans for the Autumn Conference of the Institute for Research in English Teaching are now in preparation. It is expected that it will be held at the Seinen Kaikan in the middle of October. The Minister of Education, who is the President of the Institute, will probably open the conference and deliver an address. On former occasions this conference has been attended by teachers from all parts of the Empire, and an equally good and representative attendance is expected on this occasion. A discussion on the present system of entrance examinations to the High Schools will be an important feature of the meeting. Another feature will be a series of demonstrations of modern methods of English teaching. RUSSIAN CHILDREN IN JAPAN. The Yorozu says: There has been a total absence of schools for the children of Russian residents in the Hanshin (Hansin) district since the European War, except so far as a group of the Russians have been giving lessons to these children at their residences out of sympathy. Now that the friendly relations between Japan and Russia have been restored and the number of Russian residents and children has increased, there is a plan among the Soviet community, supported by its consul in Kobe, to inaugurate a school for Russian children. It is said that a subscription list has already been opened. LESSON7. BOOKS. John Ruskin was born in London in 1819. He was brought up very severely; he was not allowed to play with toys, and was often punished. He was early trained in the study of English classics. He began to compose as soon as he had learnt to read and write. He wrote his first poem before he was seven. His school education was irregular and not successful. He was taught drawing and painting, and traveled extensively. When he was twenty-four he wrote his first work, entitled Modern Painters, Vol. I. This book made him famous, but the views that he expressed in it were violently attacked by critics. When he was forty years old he turned his attention from art to problems of education, morals, religion, and industry. The entire set of Ruskin's publications amounts more than fifty volumes. His father left him a large fortune, most of which he spent in founding museums and educational institutions. In 1869 he became professor of art at Oxford University. His long life was spent in preaching the doctrine of beauty -- beauty in buildings, in painting, in clothing, in manners, in conduct. In order to impress upon his students the dignity of labor, he used to take them out into the country to break stones and to make roads. His views on philosophy and economics are considered to be unpractical and unsound. A more serious defect was his practice of violently criticizing philosophers, economists and men of science, of whom he knew almost nothing, and whom he persisted in misunderstanding. The following is an extract from one of his works: ------------------------------------------------------- All books may be divided into two classes -- books of the hour, and books of all time. Yet it is not merely the bad book that does not last, and the good one that does. There are good books for the hour and good ones for all time; bad books for the hour and bad ones for all time. I must define the two kinds before I go on. The good book of the hour, then -- I do not speak of the bad ones -- is simply the useful or pleasant talk of some person printed for you. Very useful often, telling you what you need to know; very pleasant often, as sensible friends' present talk would be. These bright accounts of travels, good-humored and witty discussions of questions, lively or pathetic story-telling in the form of novels; firm fact-telling -- all these books of the hour are the peculiar possession of the present age. We ought to be entirely thankful for them, and entirely ashamed of ourselves if we make no good use of them. But we make the worst possible use, if we allow them to usurp the place of true books; for, strictly speaking, they are not books at all, but merely letters or newspapers in good print. Our friend's letter may be delightful, or necessary, to-day; whether worth keeping or not, is to be considered. The newspaper may be entirely proper at breakfast time, but it is not reading for all day. So, though bound up in a volume, the long letter which gives you so pleasant an account of the inns and weather last year at such a place, or which tells you that amusing story, or relates such circumstances of interest, may not be, in the real sense of the word, a "book" at all, nor, in the real sense, to be "read." A book is not a talked thing, but a written thing. The book of talk is printed only because its author cannot speak to thousands of people at once; if he could, he would -- the volume is mere multiplication of the voice. You cannot talk to your friend in India; if you could, you would; you write instead: that is merely a way of carrying the voice. But a book is written, not to multiply the voice merely, not to carry it merely, but to preserve it. The author has something to say which he perceives to be true and useful, or helpfully beautiful. So far as he knows, no one has yet said it; so far as he knows, no one can say it. He is bound to say it, clearly and in a melodious manner if he may; clearly, at all events. In the sum of his life he finds this to be the thing, or group of things, manifest to him; this the piece of true knowledge, or sight, which his share of sunshine and earth has allowed him to seize. He would set it down forever; carve it on a rock, if he could, saying, "This is the best of me; for the rest, I ate and drank and slept, loved and hated, like another; my life was as the vapor, and is not; but this I saw and knew: this, if anything of mine, is worth your memory." That is his "writing"; that is a "book." Now books of this kind have been written in all ages by their greatest men -- by great leaders, great statesmen, great thinkers. These are all at your choice; and life is short. You have heard as much before: yet have you measured and mapped out this short life and its possibilities? Do you know, if you read this, that you cannot read that -- that what you lose to-day you cannot gain to-morrow? Very ready we are to say of a book, "How good this is-that is just what I think ! " But the right feeling is, "How strange that is! I never thought of that before, and yet I see it is true; or if I do not now, I hope I shall, some day." But whether you feel thus or not, at least he sure that you go to the author to get at his meaning, not to find yours. And be sure also, if the author is worth anything, that you will not get his meaning all at once; nay, that at his whole meaning you may not for a long time arrive in any wise. Not that he does not say what he means, and in strong words too; but he cannot say it all, and, what is more strange, will not, but in a hidden way in order that he may be sure you want it. When, therefore, you come to a good book, you must ask yourself, "Am I ready to work as an Australian miner would? Are my pickaxes in good order, and am I in good trim myself, my sleeves well up to the elbow, and my breath good, and my temper?" For your pickaxes are your own care, wit, and learning; your smelting-furnace is your own thoughtful soul. Do not hope to get at any good author's meaning without these tools and that fire; often you will need sharpest, finest carving, and the most careful melting, before you can gather one grain of the precious gold. I cannot, of course, tell you what to choose for your library, for every several mind needs different books; but there are some books which we all need, and which if you read as much as you ought, you will not need to have your shelves enlarged to right and left for purposes of study. If you want to understand any subject whatever, read the best book upon it you can hear of. A common book will often give you amusement, but it is only a noble book which will give you dear friends. Avoid that class of literature which has a knowing tone; it is the most poisonous of all. Every good book, or piece of book, is full of admiration and awe; and it always leads you to reverence or love something with your whole heart. It may become necessary for you, as you advance in life, to set your hand to things that need to be altered in the world; but for a young person the safest temper is one of reverence, and the safest place one of obscurity. Certainly at present, and perhaps through all your life, your teachers are wisest when they make you content in quiet virtue; and that literature and art are best for you which point out in common life and familiar things, the objects for hopeful labor and for humble love. LESSON 8. INDUSTRY AND COMMERCE. Let us imagine a man who, like Robinson Crusoe, finds himself alone upon an island without food, clothes or tools. The first thing he must do is to keep himself alive, and to do this his first activities must be to obtain food and clothing, and to find some cave or hollow tree as a safe place to live in. A man who works in this way to get his own food and make his own clothing becomes a producer. Production is the result of labor, and as soon as he produces more than is necessary for his immediate wants, and begins to lay aside a store of things for future use, he really becomes a capitalist. Here then, we have two conditions without which human life cannot be supported, viz. there must be production and there must he a store of the product of labour, which is capital. If there is to be any degree of comfort, there must be exchanges of these collected materials. In a primitive state of society, where the hunter exchanges skins with the farmer who grows wheat, the latter must have a greater store of wheat than he can consume himself, and the other must have more skins than he can use, that is to say, a surplus store of skins. In a more advanced state of society, when money is exchanged for the surplus stock, the exchange of one for the other is just as real as the exchange of wheat for skins. The only difference is that the exchange is not so direct, being usually conducted through a middleman, or merchant, although it is much more rapid. But in whatever manner the system of exchange is carried on, whether the value of the articles to be exchanged is measured by goods or by a price in money, each of those who exchange profits by the exchange, because each obtains a supply of goods by parting with a store of which he has little or no need. While man is the only living creature that exchanges, men of all classes of society either exchange or else buy and sell. No uncivilized race, even in Africa, has ever been found without a strong desire to exchange the natural products of the country for the manufactured articles possessed by the traveler. As men have advanced from a primitive towards a more civilized state of society, they have exchanged on a larger and larger scale. Each producer has found it more convenient and of greater utility to adopt some fixed measure of employment or production, and to exchange the product of his labor, not directly, but through other persons. In this improved condition of life, the producer of articles became a manufacturer. For still greater convenience, the wholesale merchant bought large quantities of goods from the manufacturers or producers, while the retail dealers, having been supplied in smaller quantities, sold smaller supplies of goods to the consumers, and between these another dealer sometimes intervened, and thus the transfer of useful articles from the workshop of the producer to the home of the consumer passed, and still passes, through several hands. In this passage from hand to hand, each seller, or middleman, obtains a certain profit, for which the consumer has to pay. It is obvious, therefore, that the fewer the hands through which a necessary article has to pass, the better it is for the consumer, or the person who really wishes to use it. But a manufacturer finds it more profitable to sell his goods in large rather than in small quantities. If he were compelled to sell by retail, he could manufacture in small quantities only, and being limited in his rate of production, and therefore in his sales, he would be obliged to obtain larger profits. Thus, as a general rule, it is much better for all parties concerned that the manufacturer should sell only in large quantities to wholesale merchants, who must, of course, make a profit out of their work as exchangers. Producers and capitalists are mutually dependent upon each other, for although labor, or production, is the source of all wealth, its efforts to convert the raw products of nature into useful manufactured goods are feeble in the extreme until they are helped by capital. Thus a producer is one who by his labor gives to natural objects a form and value such as to make them ready for sale. He can neither create nor destroy any natural object, but he can change its form so as to make it useful. He cannot, for instance, create iron, but he can extract it from the ore; he can then convert it into steel, and from the steel can manufacture a knife, and by means of merchants, or middlemen, this finished product can be distributed to all parts of the world. But if the producer had not the means to secure his stock of ore, he would be obliged to find some capitalist who would help him. We must remember that capital is not only the material before it has been converted by labor into a useful product, but is also the instrument by which this change is brought about. Moreover, it is by means of capital that the producer is able to live during the time that he is changing natural objects into finished and useful articles for man's needs. Let us suppose, for instance, that a new source of iron ore is discovered in Japan. This iron ore will be easily sold to those who are at present importing iron ore from abroad. But the workmen who extract the ore from the earth must be paid in order that they may live. Machinery for these mining operations must also be bought and paid for. Without capital, the new enterprise would obviously be impossible. So the capitalist intervenes. He lends his money to those who wish to extract from the soil a newly discovered source of national wealth. By means of this money, it becomes possible to produce. By this production the nation benefits. Unproductive land becomes productive, the workmen earn their living, and the leaders of the enterprise are able to compete with foreign enterprises and supply cheap iron ore to Japanese manufacturers. Stores of minerals, plentiful supplies of water, fertile soils, extensive forests, seas abounding in fish, and an abundance of animal life, constitute the chief natural resources of the world. Very few lands are favored by the presence of all these resources, yet most countries possess some of them, and when the labor of man is brought to bear upon these gifts of nature, vast supplies of wealth are produced, which usually more than provide for the requirements of the country itself. The surplus supplies of one region can, therefore, be exchanged for those of another, and in this way the people of different countries become importers and exporters. Just think what good things we should have to do without if we were unable to exchange our products for those of distant lands. How would the Englishman, for instance, get on without tea, coffee, cocoa and sugar? He would have no oranges, bananas, figs or dates; he would be entirely at a loss for his supplies of cotton, tropical grains, wines and decorative wood. This utility of exchange being everywhere recognized, each nation devotes its full energies to the production of those articles for which it has natural advantages. England, for instance, contains vast supplies of coal and iron, together with an abundant water supply, and these stores of wealth enable the English to manufacture goods more cheaply than countries which have not such an abundance of these natural products. Therefore they are able to offer their manufactures in exchange for foreign produce. The productions brought into a country are called its imports, while those sent out are known as exports. In the end, the imports and the exports of a country tend to balance each other. Importation and exportation are carried on by traders and merchants, who bring in or send out goods in the hope of making a profit. An importer will only bring into his own land the articles which are in demand, and which, he believes, he can sell at a profit. Similarly, an exporter will only send to foreign lands those goods that are in demand there, and which will yield a profit equal to or greater than that which he can gain at home. If a trader can buy goods at home as cheaply as in a foreign land, he will not, of course, import the foreign produce; and if a manufacturer can sell his goods at home, he also will not trouble to send them abroad unless certain of making a greater profit. The exchange of productions is carried on, therefore, chiefly for profit, but it finally results in the world's population having a common enjoyment of the necessaries and luxuries of life. LESSON 9. LONDON FROM THE RlVER. Supposing somebody said , to you, "I will take you by water to London; we will go up the river Thames in a steamer, and we will not only visit London, but go right through the middle of it," it would sound a most attractive invitation, wouldn't it ? It really would be quite possible, too; but in case you are never able to make this delightful trip, I will tell you exactly what you would see, so that at any rate you can imagine you have been. Coming up the river from the mouth, for the first sixty miles you would see nothing of London at all, and when you began to reach the outskirts, the farthest eastern part, you would not find it very interesting. Glimpses of tall masts or funnels behind houses would puzzle you, no doubt, for it actually looks sometimes as if the ships which carry these things must be in the streets, but they are really in great docks or basins of water, built to hold them while they are being loaded or repaired. At one place, the river makes a great loop southward, doubling up again in a complete horseshoe. Almost at the extreme end of the horseshoe is Greenwich. Here we see the Royal Naval College for officers of the navy. Above it rise the slopes of Greenwich Park, and high above all the Observatory, the most important in the world, because from it the degrees around the world are reckoned. Degrees are measured by imaginary lines leading from pole to pole of the earth. It is plain, of course, that as the world is round, there must be some fixed point selected to make a start, so the imaginary line or degree which passes through Greenwich was chosen as No.0 (naught), and from it all degrees are counted to the east or to the west. We have not fairly reached London yet, but we are approaching from the east end, which is the busy commercial part, as is natural, because it is nearest to the sea. On the north side of us, or the right hand as we make our way up, lies by far the greater part of London, the best known part, where the city and almost all the principal buildings are. To the south or left hand lies, first, near the river, a poor district, and behind that, far-reaching suburbs stretching out to the hills on which the Crystal Palace stands. This part of London covers miles of ground; it has wide open spaces, and is inhabited by better-class people, who prefer to be a little away from the thickest part of the great city. The river runs through London from end to end, but it is not straight, winding about very much in its course, and making great turns in places. As we go along, we shall see miles and miles of poor, dirty-looking buildings bordering the river, with here and there a fine, well-built one to break the dingy line; we shall see docks and wharves and bridges of all sorts and kinds. There are actually fourteen bridges lying in the London area, without counting those which only carry railways. We shall see churches with towers and spires rising up among the houses, and, principal sight of all, the great dome of St Paul's. As we round the last curve, we find an animated scene. The houses rise straight up from the water like cliffs. On each story, instead of windows, there are doors through which the stuff from the ships can easily be taken. Below, in the river, lie ships of every sort and size. Great cranes are stretching out long arms from the ships or from the open doors overhead, and goods are being conveyed up into the warehouses from the water continuously. Food to feed the people of London is coming in by the ton: here is a ship carrying nothing but tea; there is another filled with potatoes; sugar, cocoa, wine, and tobacco are all good cargoes, but these may not be delivered straight into the warehouses, for most of these articles have to pay duty to the Government before they can be sold in England. For the purpose of seeing that nothing escapes, there exists the Custom-House, a little way farther up, where the Government officials live who search the ships' cargoes, and make the owners pay the right amount of duty according to law. Here we see strings of barges, large low-lying clumsy boats carrying top-heavy loads of hay or coal. They are fastened to each other like a row of railway carriages, and on them sit sunburned men and women, whose whole lives are spent on board. The tiny little cabin, a few feet each way, is the only place they have for eating, dressing, and sleeping, and when they are not busy loading or unloading, they spend their time sitting on the edge of the barge and gliding on from place to place. In great contrast to the barges are the swift little boats of the water-police which dart here, there and everywhere. They search into every hole and corner like a terrier looking for rats. There is very little that escapes the notice of the river-police. There we see a dredge which looks like an ugly iron castle; it is busy scraping up mud by the ton from the channel of the river, and this it carries out to sea; it is continuously at work, for were it not for dredging, the mud would make the channel get shallower and shallower from year to year. Now we catch sight of the Tower Bridge, which looks like the gate of London. The bridge has two towers, one on each side. They rise to a great height, and are joined by two bridges, one high up and the other low down on the level of the roadway. The higher one can only he reached by steps, so that if people want to cross that way, they must climb up inside one of the towers. Across the other passes all the traffic -- omnibuses, motorcars, lorries and carts. This one is so low over the water that large steamers cannot pass underneath. So when a large steamer comes up and sounds her steam-whistle to show she wants to pass, the man in charge of the bridge rings a bell; then all the traffic runs off one way or the other, and presently a crack can be seen right across the center of the roadway, midway between the two towers, and it widens as the two halves of the bridge rise slowly, each with one end high in the air; thus they remain until the steamer passes between. On our right, just beyond the bridge, lies the Tower of London, over 800 years old. Prison, fortress, palace; the Tower has been all in turns, sometimes all at once. Some of the saddest stories in English history are associated with the Tower, for it was not a common prison but one in which were confined those who had had the misfortune to offend the King or the Government. Before we reach the next bridge, we pass in front of the Custom-House. Close to it is Billingsgate Market, through which by fat the great part of the fish which supplies London is received, though of course quantities come in by rail too. Billingsgate always smells of the sea. The market is like a great open hall or barn, and both the floor and the stalls are generally soaking wet. Ordinary people do not come to the market. It is visited by salesman who buy in large quantities early in the morning, and carry back the fish to the shops, which sell them again to their customers. LESSON 10. LONDON FROM THE RIVER. (Conclusion) The next bridge under which we pass is London Bridge. As far back as history goes, a bridge has always stood at this part of the river. Until 1738 this was the only bridge in London. The first stone bridge was built in the year 1212. The present bridge is not old, but it is pleasant to look at, with its long arches built of white stone. We next pass under the railway bridge that leads into Cannon Street Station. This is only one of many stations in London, and there is nothing very remarkable about it, but the place where it stands is very interesting, for it was just hereabouts that the City of London first began as a tiny settlement. The City of London is just one special small part, only one square mile in size, lying within greater London, which spreads out for something like thirteen miles in one direction and ten in another. Inside the City the Lord Mayor is like a little King, and he reigns for one year only. During that year he entertains, as an equal, foreign royalties who come to visit him, and if the King of England happens to pay an official visit to the City, the Lord Mayor meets him at the entrance, and hands him the keys. Close by the place where Cannon Street Station is now, there was at one time a rushing stream coming down from the heights through the marshy ground into the river, and on each side of it rose high and steep banks. The earliest inhabitants of England in historical times were the Ancient Britons, who made their living by trapping wild animals and birds and catching fish. It must have occurred to some Ancient Briton that one of these cliffs would be a good place on which to settle. While there he could not be approached by enemies from the front because of the broad river which protected him, nor from the side because of the stream. As the marshes lay to the north at his back, he could feel fairly safe, even in those days when savage men wandered about seeking what they might steal. This first man was no doubt presently joined by his friends, who saw the wisdom of his choice, and so the earliest settlement of London began. When the Romans came, they must have found quite a large colony near the river, because the Britons had already begun to trade with France, then called Gaul, and the Gauls brought goods up by water to exchange for the skins and furs and tin and grain that the Britons could give them. The Romans conquered the Britons without much difficulty, and themselves settled down upon the cliffs near the Thames. They built a very strong fort, much stronger than anything the Britons could build. From this began the Roman city which soon spread far to the north and around. The Romans soon found that to cross the water a bridge was necessary, and it was they who built London Bridge, choosing the narrowest part of the river not far from their own settlement. The Romans stayed there for four hundred years, and then, as we read in an earlier lesson, they were forced to go back to Rome to protect it from its enemies. The Anglo-Saxons came next, and eventually settled in London; later they were conquered by the Danes, who in their turn occupied London. When at last England was settled under the Norman Kings, London continued to be the capital of the kingdom, and grew in power and trade. The most striking events in the history of the City were the Great Plague and the Great Fire. During the plague thousands and thousands and thousands of the inhabitants died; then came the fire and swept the place from end to end, destroying all the streets and houses, so that when it was over, people could not tell even where their houses had stood. The tall column called the Monument, which we noticed as we passed London Bridge, shows us the place where the fire started. After the fire, the City architect, Sir Christopher Wren, designed and rebuilt about fifty churches, including St. Paul's Cathedral. Along the whole length of the City, beside the river, runs a long, narrow, irregular street called Thames Street. The houses on one side of it border the river. Once this street was very fashionable; lords and ladies and royal princes rode along it, and lived in great stone mansions facing the river. How different it is now ! In place of these mansions and palaces we find rows of mean and ugly ware-houses where the loading and unloading of goods goes on all day. Thames Street runs almost up to Blackfriars Bridge, and once we have passed under this, we come upon an altogether different scene. On the south side there are still wharves and broken, irregular, dingy buildings, but on the north is a fine sweeping embankment lined by trees. Close at hand is a place called the Temple, where barristers have their chambers. The next bridge we come to is Waterloo Bridge, said to be one of the most graceful ever built. At the north end we see Somerset House, now occupied by Government offices, and two immense hotels with many rows of windows overlooking the river. The Strand is the great street running along on the north side of these buildings. We are beyond the City now, and are approaching Westminster, which at one time was a separate city by itself. Here stands the famous church called Westminster Abbey. It is the chief burial-place of the great men of the English race. Burial there is an honor the nation grants only to the greatest. In one corner the poets are grouped together; near the east end are many Kings and Queens; we find here statesmen, historians, painters, soldiers, explorers. Here, too, lies the "unknown soldier," whose body is representative of all those English soldiers and sailors killed during the Great War. It is in Westminster Abbey that the Kings and Queens of England are crowned. Close to Westminster Abbey, facing the Thames, are the Houses of Parliament. At one end stands the high tower with that famous clock called Big Ben, which is one of the largest in the world. A royal palace formerly stood here, and in it the Parliament met and sat for five hundred years. About a century ago, this palace, with the exception of one ancient hall, was destroyed by fire, and the buildings as we see them now were put up in its place. Round about Westminster is the finest part of London: Whitehall, with its government offices; Trafalgar Square with the gallery where the nation's pictures are on view, the famous shopping center of Regent Street and Oxford Street; the Strand and Piccadilly, with their theatres, restaurants and hotels, Pall Mall, with its clubs; and finally Bucking-ham Palace, the London residence of the King and Queen. We could go on up the river in our steamer further than Westminster; we could see Lambeth, where is the palace of the Archbishops of Canterbury on the other side; much further up we could go past Chelsea, once a village in the fields, but now all part of London; and so by Fulham we should come to the home of the Bishops of London; and so to Hammersmith, where London, counted as such, ends, though the houses still go on by Chiswick to Kew. But we have seen enough for to-day. LESSON 11. PROVERBS. All over the world, in all countries and among all peoples, we find a number of brief and familiar sayings expressing in a few words the essence of some popular truth. In Japan, for instance, the following examples are well known: -- Obi ni mijikashi, tasuki ni nagashi [Obi ni mizikashi, Tasuki ni nagasi]; Sawaranu kami ni, tatari nashi [Sawaranu Kami ni, tatari nasi]. Such sayings as these are called proverbs. In the following pages, and in later lessons, we shall see many examples of English proverbs and the English translation of foreign proverbs. The truths expressed by proverbs are more empirical than scientific, more practical than theoretical, conforming to the dictates of conventional wisdom rather than to the standards of Utopian idealism. Although the similes and modes of expression differ according to the races or nations that use them, the similarity between many of the world's proverbs is striking. When we study proverbs, one of the first things that we notice is that the style of the language in which they are expressed is often rather different from the ordinary style; in other words, the language of proverbs is often a special sort of language. The two Japanese proverbs given above, worded in the ordinary language that Japanese people use every day would probably be more like Obi ni suru nii wa mijikasugite, tasuki ni suru ni wa nagasugite, and Sawaranakereba kami mo okoranai (or okorimasen desho). Similarly, English proverbs are frequently worded in a style of language differing considerably from the English of everyday life. The reason is fairly clear. A language never remains exactly the same from one century to another, and in the course of a few hundred years it may change so much as to become almost a different language. Words and expressions may go out of fashion and finally become obsolete. Now, most proverbs are very old; they came into existence some hundreds of years ago, and consequently the wording and style in which they are expressed are often those belonging to the older language. Many English proverbs retain traces of the grammar and vocabulary of the mediaeval period, or middle ages. To illustrate this point let us take some examples: If I had not lifted up the stone, you had not found the jewel. In modern English, the last part would read, "you would not have found the jewel." The early bird catcheth the worm. "Catcheth" is the old form of "catches." The cow knows not what her tail is worth till she has lost it. Instead of "knows not" we should now say "does not know," and "till she has lost it" would generally be expressed as "till she loses it" or "until she loses it." He that goes a-borrowing goes a-sorrowing. "He that" is now expressed by "Anybody who" or "People who"; the verb "to sorrow" is not used in modern English, and the form "a-" as in a-borrowing, a-sorrowing, a-fishing etc. is now used only in country dialects and very old-fashioned English. In plain modern English the same thought would probably be expressed by: "People who borrow are not happy." The above proverb is an example of those that rhyme - "rhyming proverbs" we might call them. Quite a large number of common words have a different meaning according to whether they are used in the old or the modern sense. Thus "meat," which means to-day "the flesh of an animal considered as food," once meant simply "food." So when we read the proverb: What is one man's meat is another man's poison, we should understand it to mean, "What is good to eat for one man is poison for another man." The word "ill," which to-day generally means "in bad health" or "suffering from some disease," was formerly used simply in the sense of "bad" or "badly," as in the following examples: Ill luck is good for something. It is an ill wind that blows nobody good (If the wind brings no good to anyone, it must really be a very bad wind). Ill got, ill spent (The money we get by bad means we spend badly). Is this last example we see another characteristic of proverbs, viz. conciseness, which we may call producing the maximum of effect with the minimum of words. Here are some more examples of concise proverbs: Better late than never (It is better to be late in doing something than not to do it at all). First come, first served (Those who come first will be served first). Grasp all, lose all (If you try to grasp everything, you will lose everything. Soon ripe, soon rotten (If something is soon ripe, it will also soon be rotten) Well begun is half done (If you begin your work well, it is as if your work were half done). A large number of proverbs are in the nature of moral precepts or guides to everyday conduct. We have proverbs referring to waste: Waste not, want not (If you do not waste things, you will not be in want of things); proverbs in praise of prudence: A stitch in time saves nine (If you mend something before it is too late, one stitch will be enough; if you leave it too late, nine stitches will be necessary). Prudent pauses forward business tells us that if we want our business to go forward, it is prudent sometimes to pause in -- other terms, not to press forward all the time. There are proverbs, too, that recommend perseverance: Constant dropping wears away the stone. Some proverbs warn us against talking too much: Speech is silver, silence is golden. Other proverbs are of a philosophical nature; some express pessimism and despair, such as : No life without pain. Misfortunes never come singly. Some, on the contrary express optimism, such as: Every cloud has a silver lining. Bad luck often brings good luck. All is for the best (Everything that happens is good in the long run). Other proverbs are of a satirical or ironical nature, commenting on the weaknesses and vanity of human nature. Among these we find: Every bird thinks its own nest charming. Everyone thinks his own burden heaviest. All complain of want of memory, but none of want of judgment. Every man has his weak side. Praise is always pleasant. Such proverbs as the following show the value of experience and practice as against knowledge and theory: Practice makes perfect (If you practice doing something, you will end by doing it perfectly) . Knowledge is a treasure but practice is the key to it. Knowledge without practice makes but half an artist. Many proverbs are to be found in pairs, one being the counterpart of the other, and in some cases one contradicting the other. Thus one proverb says: Might is right, an ironical comment on the fact that those who are strong and powerful receive praise, and that the weak and helpless receive blame. Another proverb claims, however, that Might is not always right, which, of course, is true. Some proverbs show the advantages of wealth, and others, the disadvantages. Among the former we find: A man without money is a bow without an arrow. A light purse makes a heavy heart. Among the latter we have: A great fortune is a great slavery. Great fortune brings with it great misfortune. Many proverbs refer to fools and wise men. For instance: A fool and his money are soon parted. A fool when he is silent is considered wise. Experience may teach a fool. A fool may make money, but it takes a wise man to spend it. Learning makes the wise wiser, but the fool more foolish. A wise man's loss is his secret. Quite a number of proverbs give us advice in judging values, and warn us not to be deceived by appearances. Among these we find: An archer is known by his aim, not by his arrow. The best is cheapest in the end. What costs nothing is worth nothing. It is not the coat that makes the gentleman. An open enemy is better than a false friend. Fairness and justice towards others are recommended by such proverbs as: Be just before you are generous. Fair play is a jewel. Vengeance is wild justice (Revenge is the sort of justice characteristic of savage people). There are two sides to every question. The following proverbs are in praise of good habits in daily life: Early to bed and early to rise. Eat to live, but do not live to eat. By losing present time we lose all time. A place for everything and everything in its place. In many cases we note among proverbs the principle of "alliteration"; by which a sentence is made to contain two or more important words beginning with the same sound. "Waste not, want not," "Speech is silver, silence is golden" are examples of this. In future lessons we shall examine other proverbs, noting their wording and style as well as the morals that they are intended to express. LESSON 12. THREE QUESTIONS. Leo Tolstoy, born in 1828, was the son of a Russian nobleman. He was unfortunate enough to lose both his father and his mother in his childhood, and was brought up partly by an aunt whose influence over him was not very good. At the age of fifteen he entered the University of Kazan, where there was no serious teaching nor any personal interest shown in the students. After a period during which he led a life of pleasure, he turned his attention first to the study of Arabic and Turkish, then of history, religion and law; but without success, and left the University when he was nineteen. During the next four years he led a restless life, sometimes as a social reformer, sometimes as a serious student, sometimes as an idler. In 1851 he joined the army, and shortly after began to write, and within the next few years produced some of his finest work. During the war between Russia on one side, and the French, English, and Turks on the other, he wrote such wonderful descriptions of the siege of Sebastopol that his genius was quickly recognized. He arrived in St. Petersburg (now called Leningrad) to find himself famous. While he was in the army, he had become interested in the sad condition of the peasants, and had made up his mind to help them. He now set free all the peasants on his own estate, and began to teach them. He went abroad to study what seemed to him to be the best systems of education. All this time he wrote constantly, and continued to write throughout his life, and his work is so good that he is looked upon as one of the world's greatest writers. He lived to be a very old man, and died in 1910. The following is an English translation of one of his moral stories. ------------------------------------------------- It once occurred to a certain king that if he always knew the right time to begin everything, if he knew who were the right people to listen to and whom to avoid, and, above all, if he always knew what was the most important thing to do, he could never fail in anything he might undertake. And this thought having occurred to him, he had it proclaimed throughout his kingdom that he would give reward to anyone who would teach him what was the right time for every action, and who were the most necessary people, and how he might know what was the most important thing to do. And learned men came to the king, but they all answered his questions differently. All the answers being different, the king agreed with none of them and gave the reward to none. But, still wishing to find the right answers to his questions, he decided to consult a hermit widely renowned for his wisdom. The hermit lived in a wood which he never quitted, and he received none but common folk. So the king put on simple clothes and, before reaching the hermit's cell, dismounted from his horse and, leaving his bodyguard behind, went on alone. When the king approached, the hermit was digging the ground in front of his hut. Seeing the king, he greeted him and went on digging. The hermit was frail and weak; and each time he stuck his spade into the ground and turned a little earth he breathed heavily. The king went up to him and said: "I have come to you, wise hermit, to ask you three questions: How can I learn to do the right thing at the right time? Whom are the people I most need, and to whom, therefore, should I pay more attention than to the rest? And what affairs are the most important and need my first attention? The hermit listened to the king, but answered nothing. He just spat on his hands and recommenced digging. "You are tired," said the king. "Let me take the spade and work awhile for you." "Thanks!" said the hermit, and, giving the spade to the king, he sat down on the ground. When he had dug two beds, the king stopped and repeated his questions. The hermit again gave no answer, but rose, stretched out his hand for the spade, and said, "Now rest awhile and let me work a bit." The king did not give up the spade, but continued to dig. One hour passed, and then another. The sun began to sink behind the trees, and the king at last stuck the spade into the ground and said: "I came to you, wise man, for an answer to my questions. If you can give me none, tell me so, and I will return home." "Here comes some one running," said the hermit. "Let us see who it is." The king turned round and saw a bearded man come running out of the wood. The man held his hands pressed against his side, and blood was flowing from under them. When he reached the king, he fell fainting on the ground, moaning feebly. The king and the hermit unfastened the man's clothing. There was a large wound in his side. The king washed it as best he could, and bandaged it with his handkerchief and with a towel the hermit had. But the blood would not stop flowing, and the king again and again washed and rebandaged the wound. When at last the blood ceased flowing, the man revived and asked for something to drink. The king brought fresh water and gave it to him. Meanwhile the sun had set and it had become cool. So the king, with the hermit's help, carried the wounded man into the hut and laid him on the bed. Lying on the bed the man closed his eyes and was quiet, but the king was so tired with his walk and with the work he had done that he crouched down on the threshold and also fell asleep -- so soundly that he slept all through the short summer night. When he awoke in the morning, it was long before he could remember where or who he was, or who was the strange bearded man lying on the bed and gazing intently at him with shining eyes. "Forgive me!" said the bearded man in a weak voice, when he saw that the king was awake. "I do not know you, and have nothing to forgive you for," said the king. "You do not know me," replied the stranger, "but I know you. I am that enemy of yours who swore to revenge himself on you because you executed his brother and seized his property. I knew you had gone alone to see the hermit, and I resolved to kill you on your way back. But the day passed and you did not return. So I came out from my ambush to find you, and I came upon your bodyguard, who recognized and wounded me. I escaped from them, but I should have bled to death if you had not dressed my wound. I wished to kill you, and you have saved my life. Now, if I live, and if you wish to have me, I will serve you all my life as your most faithful slave and will bid my sons do the same. Forgive me!" The king was very glad to have made peace with his enemy so easily and to have gained him for a friend. He not only forgave him but said that he would send his servants and his own physician to attend him, and promised to restore his property. Having taken leave of the wounded man, the king went out on the porch and looked around for the hermit. Before going away he wished once more to beg an answer to the questions he had put. The hermit was outside, on his knees, sowing seeds in the beds that had been dug the day before. The king approached him and said to him, "For the last time I beseech you to answer my three questions, wise man." "You have already been answered!" said the hermit, still crouching on his thin legs and looking up at the king, who stood before him. "How answered? What do you mean?" asked the king. "Do you not see? replied the hermit. "If you had not pitied my weakness yesterday, and had not dug these beds for me, but had gone your way, that man would have attacked you, and you would have repented of not having stayed with me. So the most important time was when you were digging the beds, and I was the most important man, and to do me good was your most important business. Afterwards, when that man ran to us, the most important time was when you were attending to him, for if you had not bound up his wound as he would have died without having made peace with you. So he was the most important man, and what you did for him was your most important business. Remember, then, there is only one time that is important -- now! It is the most important time because it is the only time when we have any power. The most necessary man is he with whom you are, for no man knows whether he will ever have dealings with anyone else; and the most important affair is to do him good, because for that purpose alone was man sent into this life." LESSON 13. A LETTER FROM KARUIZAWA. Karuizawa, May 17th, 1927. My dear Cousin, Here we are at Karuizawa. We arrived safely yesterday afternoon at half past four after an interesting journey. Let me tell you exactly what we did and saw. About two hours after leaving you at Ueno station we got to Kumagaya, where there were such lovely cherry trees in bloom a month ago. Here we got our lunch from the men who go along the platform selling things; I chose sandwiches and hot coffee, with chocolate and oranges as dessert. As we got near Takasaki we began to see the mountains; we could see the Myogi rocks, the hills of Karuizawa, and the great peak of Asama beyond. At about half past three we reached Yokogawa, which lies at the foot of the hills. Here we had a splendid view of the Myogi rocks standing up in steep pinnacles against the sky. We had to wait here a little time while they took off the steam locomotive and put the electric one in its place. As you perhaps know, the train goes by electricity from Yokogawa to Karuizawa. This is an excellent idea, for as there are twenty-six tunnels between the two places the smoke of the steam engine would make it very unpleasant. Presently the train began moving slowly up the steep incline, and in a few minutes we reached the first tunnel. Most of these tunnels are very short; sometimes the front part of the train would be in one tunnel, and the rear part in another. Between the tunnels we caught glimpses of the most wonderful scenery: tremendous gorges with rapidly flowing rivers and streams at the bottom, and steep hills growing higher and higher in the distance. Although it is only seven miles between Yokogawa and Karuizawa, the climb takes a whole hour. About half-way up comes the little station of Kumanotaira standing between two tunnels. Here we had to stop while the up-train passed us (for this is only a single-track railway). As we came out of the twenty-sixth tunnel, we saw Karuizawa in front of us, and a few minutes later we reached the station. The men who were to help us move in were there; they took our luggage and told us they would deliver it at the house. The station is some distance from the residential part of Karuizawa, and so we had to have rikshas to take us to the house. I should have liked to walk, but I am not yet strong enough for so much exercise. On coming out of the station the first thing we saw was Hanare-yama, a great bold hill about a mile to the west. Beyond that, and some miles away, we could see Asama. There was still some snow on the sides, and on the top was a thick cloud of steam rising out of the crater. The people here have told us that it was only yesterday that it started steaming again after a long period of inactivity. We could see that Karuizawa is on the edge of a plain, with a ring of hills all round it. It was not nearly as cold as we thought it would be, in fact I daresay the temperature is not more than five degrees below that of Tokyo. Soon we arrived at the main street of the village. It looked so strange, and so different from anything I have seen before. It is a street with curious little foreign-style shops in it, but as most of the shops were closed it looked rather lonely and desolate. There were very few people about and, contrary to my expectations, no foreigners. I had been told that Karuizawa is quite a foreign town. I expect it will look quite different when the regular season starts -- at present it looks as if it were just waking up after a long winter sleep. At length we reached the house we are going to occupy. It is situated about half-way up one of the many hills bordering the plain, a steep cone-shaped hill called Atago-yama. The men had been busy opening and cleaning the house ready for us to come in. There are eight rooms in the house, not counting the kitchen and the servants' quarters. Five of them are downstairs and the other three on the upper floor. There is quite a lot of furniture in the house, although of a rather rough sort; wooden beds, plain tables and seats made of planks of wood nailed together, and wicker and bamboo chairs. In the front part of the house there is a big square verandah with the supports and railings of rough pine logs; the whole house is built of wooden planks covered with a roof of shingles -- all very rustic and primitive. There is quite a large plot of ground round the house, most of it covered with trees, so it will be quite cool and shad, when the hot season comes. We had some little difficulty about the evening meal yesterday evening. We could get nothing except a little fish. But some people we know here were very kind and gave us a loaf of bread and some butter. We discovered, too, that we had forgotten to bring any soap with us! So before we could have a wash we had to send the servant down into the village to buy some. For the next few weeks we shall have to order our provisions from Tokyo. After that, when the regular summer residents arrive, the chief Tokyo and Kobe shops will open their branches here. We have given orders for bread, butter, and milk to be delivered daily. The water we get from a well in the garden -- a woman comes to draw it twice a day. We found that the beds were provided with mattresses, pillows and futons but no sheets or blankets, so it was fortunate that we had brought ours with us, especially as it was rather cold during the night. In one of the rooms downstairs there is a great open fireplace with a hearth for burning wood. A large pile of logs had been sent to the house, so we had a nice log fire, which was very cosy and cheerful; such a contrast to the fog and rain outside -- for it came on to rain at about six o'clock. When we woke up this morning after a nice long night's rest, we found that the rain had quite cleared off and that it was a brilliant sunshiny morning. After breakfast we walked round and explored. Do you know, we found a cherry tree in the garden with the blossoms still on it! As we are here 3.000 feet above sea-level the climate is quite different from that of the plains -- it is as if we were a month earlier in the year. The soil here is so curious; it is very sandy and all covered with whitish stones that are so light that they float on water when they are dry! It is a sort of pumice stone that has been thrown out of the volcano. That reminds me that Asama is still sending its steam up into the sky. I hope it won't erupt seriously while we are here -- and yet it would be an exciting experience to see a volcano in eruption ! It is all very novel and exciting, and I am sure that I am going to enjoy myself very much. The doctor told my father that the pure mountain air would do me good and that I should soon be quite well again. I will write to you again as soon as we get fairly settled, and tell you more about our life in Karuizawa. You must really come and pay us a visit this summer. Your affectionate cousin, John. P.S. Thank you so much for coming to see us off at Ueno. LESSON 14. THE FORTY-SEVEN RONINS PART L During the last years of the Shogunate and the early years of the Restoration, one of the secretaries to the British Legation in Japan was Bertram Mitford, who later became Lord Redesdale. In 1871 he wrote Tales of Old Japan, when for the first time the British people had the opportunity of learning something about the old history, traditions and stories of Japan. The author tells us that his work consists essentially of the translation of some of the most interesting national legends and histories, together with other specimens of literature bearing upon the same subject. "Thus the Japanese may tell their own tale, their translator only adding here and there a few words of heading.... where an explanation or amplification may be necessary." The following is a slightly abridged and adapted version of his account of the Forty-Seven Ronins. The story is preceded by an introduction in which the author describes the temple of Sengakuji [Sengakuzi], "renowned throughout the length and breadth of the land for its cemetery, which contains the graves of the Forty-Seven Ronins, famous in Japanese history, heroes of Japanese drama." It should, however, be remembered that the facts as stated by Lord Redesdale may not always be in accordance with the historical evidence. At the beginning of the eighteenth century there lived a daimyo called Asano Takumino-kami, the Lord of the castle of Ako in the province of Harima. Now it happened that an Imperial ambassador from the Court at Kyoto was sent to the Shogun [Syogun] at Yedo, and Takuminokami and another noble called Lord Kamei were appointed to receive and entertain him; and a high official, named Kira Kotsukenosuke [Kotukenosnke] was called upon to teach them the proper ceremonies to be observed upon the occasion. The two nobles were accordingly forced to go daily to the castle to listen to the instructions of Kotsukenosuke. But this Kotsukenosuke was greedy and fond of money; he considered that the presents which the two daimyos had brought him in return for his instructions were not of great enough value. He therefore became prejudiced against the two men; he took no pains in teaching them, but rather sought opportunities of ridiculing them. Takuminokami, restrained by a stern sense of duty, bore his insults with patience; but Lord Kamei, who had less control over his temper, became violently angry, and determined to kill Kotsukenosuke. One night when his duties at the castle were ended, Lord Kamei returned to his own mansion, and having summoned his councilors to a secret conference, said to them: "Kotsukenosuke has insulted Takuminokami and myself during our service in attendance on the Imperial envoy, I was tempted to kill him on the spot, but I considered that if I did this within the precincts of the castle, not only should I have to pay for my deed with my life, but my family and vassals would be ruined. Still, to-morrow when I go to Court I will kill him. My mind is made up, and I will listen to no remonstrance." Now one of Lord Kamei's councilors was a man of great judgment, and when he saw from his lord's manner that remonstrance would be useless, he said; "Your words are law; I will make all preparations accordingly; and to-morrow, when you go to Court, if this Kotsukenosuke should again be insolent, let him die." But the councilor went home, troubled in mind, and thought anxiously about what his lord had said. And as he reflected, it crossed his mind that since Kotsukenosuke had the reputation of being a miser, he would certainly be open to a bribe, and that it was better to pay any sum, no matter how great, than to have his lord and his house ruined. So he collected all the money he could, and giving it to his servants to carry, rode off in the night to Kotsukenosnke's house, and arriving there, said to the retainers: "My master, who is now in attendance upon the Imperia] envoy, owes many thanks to my Lord Kotsukenosuke, who has been at such great pains to teach him the proper ceremonies to be observed during the reception. He has sent this present by me; it is of no great value, but he hopes that his lordship will accept it as a token of his gratitude." And with these words he produced a thousand ounces of silver for Kotsnkenosuke, and a hundred ounces to be distributed among his retainers. When the retainers saw the money, they could not conceal their pleasure, and they thanked the councilor repeatedly. Begging him to wait a little, they went and told their master of the rich present which had arrived with a polite message from Lord Kamei. Kotsukenosuke was delighted, sent for the councilor, and after thanking him, promised that he would the next day instruct his master carefully in all the different points of etiquette. So the councilor was most pleased at the success of his plan, and returned home in high spirits. When Lord Kamei arrived at the palace the next morning, he was astonished to find how well he was received. Kotsukenosuke apologized repeatedly for his former bad behavior and begged forgiveness. And as he kept on bowing and making polite speeches, Lord Kamei made up his mind to forgive him, and gave up all ideas of revenge. Shortly after this, Takuminokami, who had sent no presents, arrived at the castle, and Kotsukenosuke insulted him more violently than ever, sneering at him and ridiculing him. Takuminokami bore these insults patiently for some time, but at length he could no longer restrain his anger. As Kotsukenosuke turned and moved towards an inner room, Takuminokami called out to him: "Stop a moment, my lord." "Well, what is it?" replied the other. And as he turned round, Takuminokami drew his dagger and struck him a blow on the head; but the wound was little more than a scratch and so Kotsukenosuke was able to run away. Takuminokami, pursuing him, tried a second time to cut him down, but failed. At this moment an officer, seeing what was happening, held back the furious noble, and so gave Kotsukenosuke time to make his escape. All was confusion; Takuminokami was arrested and disarmed, and confined in one of the apartments of the palace. A council was held, and when its deliberations were completed, it was decided that as Takuminokami had attacked another man within the walls of the palace, he must perform hara-kiri; his goods must be confiscated, and his family ruined. LESSON 15. THE FORTY-SEVEN RONINS. PART II. So Takuminokami performed hara-kiri, his castle of Ako was confiscated, and his retainers became ronins. Some of them took service with other daimyos, and others became merchants. Now among these retainers was his principal councilor, a man called Oishi [Oisi] Kuranosuke, who with forty-six other faithful dependents, formed a league to avenge their master's death by killing Kotsukenosuke. This Oishi was absent, at the castle of Ako, at the time of this affair, which, had he been with his lord, would never have occurred; for, being a wise man, he would not have failed to send suitable presents; while the councilor who was in attendance upon the lord at Yedo had unwisely neglected this precaution, and so caused the death of his master and the ruin of his house. So Oishi Kuranosuke and his forty-six companions began to lay their plans of vengeance against Kotsukenosuke; but the latter was so well guarded by a body of men lent to him by a daimyo called Lord Uesugi whose daughter he had married, that they saw that the only way of attaining their end would be to throw their enemy off his guard. With this object they separated and disguised themselves, some as carpenters, others as merchants. Their chief, Oishi, went to Kyoto, and built a house in the quarter called Yamashina [Yamasina]. There he gave himself up to idleness and drunkenness, as if nothing were further from his mind than revenge. Kotsukenosuke, in the meanwhile, suspecting that Takuminokami's former retainers would be scheming against his life, secretly sent spies to Kyoto, and kept a faithful account of all that Kuranosuke did. The latter, however, determined to deceive his enemy, went on leading a dissolute life. One day when he was returning home drunk, he fell down in the street and went to sleep, and all the passers by laughed and sneered at him. It happened that a Satsuma man saw this and said, "Is this not Oishi Kuranosuke, who was a councilor of Asano Takuminokami, and who, not having the heart to avenge his lord, has given himself up to drunkenness and low pleasures? Look at him lying drunk in the public street! Faithless beast! Fool and coward! Unworthy the name of a samurai!" And he trod on Kuranosuke's face as he slept and spat upon him, but when spies reported all this to Kotsukenosuke at Yedo, he was greatly relieved at the news, and felt secure from danger. One day Kuranosuke's wife, who was bitterly grieved to see her husband lead this life, went to him and reproached him for his behavior, and begged him to put some restraint upon himself. At this he flew into a violent rage: "Since you do not like my way of life, I will divorce you, and you may go away. Go! -- the sooner the better!" "O my lord," she answered," do not say such terrible words. I have been your faithful wife for twenty years; you cannot be so cruel as to turn me out of doors now. Have pity!" He answered, "Stop this useless talk. My mind is made up, and you must go; and as the children ate in my way also, you are welcome to take them with you." When she heard her husband speak like this, in her grief she went to her eldest son, Oishi Chikara [Tikara] and begged him to plead for her, that she might be pardoned. But nothing would turn Kuranosuke from his purpose, so his wife was sent away, with the two younger children, and went back to her native place. But Oishi Chikara remained with his father. The spies communicated all this without fail to Kotsukenosuke, and he, when be heard how Kuranosuke, having turned his wife and children out of doors, had given himself entirely up to pleasure and drunkenness, began to think that he had no longer anything to fear from the retainers of Takuminokami, who must be cowards, without the courage to avenge their lord. So by degrees he began to keep a less strict watch, and sent back half of the guard which had been lent to him by his father-in-law. Little did he think how he was falling into the trap laid for him by Kuranosuke, who in his zeal to slay his lord's enemy, thought nothing of divorcing his wife and sending away his children. Kuranosuke, by persisting in his apparently shameless conduct, continued to throw dust in the eyes of his enemy; but his associates all went to Yedo, and, having in their capacities as workmen and peddlers managed to visit Kotsukenosuke's house, made themselves familiar with the plan of the building and the arrangement of the different rooms, and ascertained the character of the inmates; which were brave and loyal men, and which were cowards. They sent reports regularly to Kuranosuke, and when at last it became evident from these letters that Kotsukenosuke was thoroughly off his guard, Kuranosuke was delighted that the day of vengeance was so near. Having appointed a meeting-place at Yedo, he left Kyoto secretly. It was now December, and the weather was bitterly cold. One night, during a heavy fall of snow, when all was quiet, and peaceful men were asleep, the ronins determined that no more favorable opportunity could occur for carrying out their purpose. So they held a conference, and having divided their band into two parties, assigned to each man his post. One band, led by Oishi Kuranosnke, was to attack the front gate, and the other, under his son Oishi Chikara, was to attack the rear part; but as Chikara was only sixteen years of age, Yoshida [Yosida] Chuzaemon [Tyuzaemon] was appointed to act as his guardian. Further it was arranged that a drum, beaten at the order of Kuranosuke, should be the signal for the simultaneous attack, and that if anyone killed Kotsukenosuke and cut off his head, he should blow a whistle as a signal to his comrades, who would hurry to the spot, and, having identified the head, carry it off to the temple called Sengakuji, and lay it as an offering before the tomb of their dead lord. Then they must report their deed to the government, and await the sentence of death which would most certainly be passed on them. Midnight was fixed upon as the hour, and the forty-seven comrades, having made all ready for the attack, held a farewell feast together. Then Oishi Kuranosuke addressed the band, and said: "To-night we shall attack our enemy in his mansion; his retainers will certainly resist us, and we shall be obliged to kill them. But to kill old men and women and children is a wicked thing; therefore I beg you each to take great care not to kill a single helpless person." His comrades all applauded this speech, and so they remained, waiting for the hour of midnight. LESSON 16. THE FORTY-SEVEN RONINS. PART V. When the appointed time came, the ronins set out. The wind blew furiously and the snow beat in their faces; but they cared little for wind or snow as they hurried on their road eager for revenge. At last they reached the house, and divided into two bands; and Chikara with twenty-three men, went round to the back gate. Then four men, by means of a rope ladder which they hung on to the roof of the porch, climbed into the courtyard; and, as they saw signs that all the immates of the house were asleep, they went into the porter's lodge where the guard slept, and before the latter had time to recover from their astonishment, bound them. The terrified guard played hard for mercy, that their lives might be spared; and to this the ronins agreed on condition that the keys of the gate should be given up. But the others replied that the keys were kept in the house of one of their officers, and that they had no means of obtaining them. Then the ronins lost patience, and with a hammer smashed the big wooden bolt which secured the gate, and the doors flew open to the right and to the left. At the same time Chikara and his party broke in by the back gate. Then Oishi Kuranosuke sent a messenger to the neighboring houses, with the following message: "We, the ronins who were formerly in the service of Asano Takuminokami, are about to break into the mansion of Kotsukenosuke, to avenge our load. As we are not robbers, no harm will be done to the neighboring houses; have no anxiety." And as Kotsukenosuke was hated by his neighbors for his greediness and love of money, they were not at all inclined to come to his assistance. Still another precaution was taken. In case any of the people inside should run out to call the relations of the family to the rescue, and these coming in force should interfere with the plans of the ronins, Kuranosuke stationed ten of his men armed with bows on the roof of the four sides of the courtyard, with orders to shoot any retainers who might attempt to leave the place. Having thus laid all his plans and posted his men, Kuranosuke with his own hand beat the drum and gave the signal for attack. Ten of Kotsukenosuke's retains, hearing the noise, woke up; and, drawing their swords, rushed into the front room to defend their master. At this moment the ronins, who had burst open the door of the front hall, entered the same room. Then there was a furious fight between the two parties, in the midst of which Chikara, leading his men through the garden, broke into the back of the house; and Kotsukenosuke, in fear of his life, took refuge, with his wife and female servants, in an outhouse, while the rest of his retainers, who slept in a lodge outside the house, made ready to go to the rescue. But the ronins who had come in by the front door, and were fighting with the ten retainers, ended by overwhelming and killing the latter without losing one of their own number; after which, forcing their way bravely towards the back room, they were joined by Chikara and his men, and the two bands were united in one. By this time the remainder of Kotsukenosuke's men had come in, and the fight became general; and Kuranosuke, sitting on a stool, gave his orders and directed the ronins. Soon the defenders of the house found that they were no match for their enemy, so they tried to send a message to their lord's father-in-law, begging him to come to the rescue with all the force at his command. But the messengers were shot down by the archers whom Kuranosuke had posted on the roof. So no help coming, they fought on in despair. Then Kuranosuke cried out in a loud voice: "Kotsukenosuke alone is our enemy; let someone go inside and bring him out dead or alive!" Now in front of Kotsukenosuke's private room stood three brave retainers with drawn swords. The first was Kobayashi Heihachi, the second was Waku Handayu, and the third was Shimizu lkkaku, all expert swordsmen. They fought so valiantly that for a while they kept the whole of the ronins from approaching, and at one moment even forced them back. When Oishi Kuranosuke saw this, he shouted to his men: "What! did not every one of you swear to lay down his life in avenging his lord, and now you are driven back by three men? To die fighting in a master's cause should be the noblest ambition of a retainer!" Then turning to his own son Chikara he said, "Here, boy! Engage those men, and if they are too strong for you, die!" On hearing these words, Chikara seized a spear and attacked Waku Handayu, but could not hold his ground, and backing by degrees, was driven out into the garden, where he missed his footing and slipped into a pond, but as Handayu, thinking to kill him, looked down into the pond, Chikara cut his enemy in the leg and caused him to fall, and then, crawling out of the water, dispatched him. In the meanwhile Kobayashi Heihachi and Shimizu lkkaku had been killed by the other ronins, and of all Kotsukenosuke's retainers not one fighting man remained. Thus the whole of Kotsukenosuke's men having been killed, there was an end to the fighting; but as yet there was no trace of Kotsukenosuke to be found. Then Kuranosuke divided his men into several parties and searched the whole house, but all in vain; women and children were alone to be seen. At this the forty-seven men began to lose heart, fearing that after all their patience and efforts they had allowed their enemy to escape them, and there was a moment when in their despair they agreed to commit suicide together upon the spot; but they determined to make one more effort. So Kuranosuke went into Kotsukenosuke's sleeping-room, and touching the quilt with his own hands, exclaimed, "I have just felt the bed-clothes, and they are still warm, and so our enemy cannot be far off. He must certainly be hidden somewhere in the house." Greatly excited by this, the ronins renewed their search. Now in the tokonoma there was a kakemono hanging; taking this down, they saw that there was a large hole in the wall and on thrusting a spear in, they could feel nothing beyond it. So one of the ronins, called Yazama Jataro, got into the hole, and found that on the other side there was a little courtyard in which there stood a large outhouse for holding charcoal and firewood. Looking into the outhouse, he perceived something white at the further end, at which he struck with his spear, when two armed men sprang out upon him and tried to cut him down, but he kept them back until one of his comrades came up, killed one of the two men and engaged the other, while Jutaro entered the outhouse and felt about with his spear. LESSON 17. THE FORTY-SEVEN RONINS. CONCLUSION. Again seeing something white, Yazama struck it with his lance, when a cry of pain proved that it was a man; so he rushed up, and the man in white clothes, who had been wounded in the thigh, drew his dagger and aimed a blow at him. But Jutaro wrested the dagger from him, and clutching him by the collar, dragged him out of the outhouse. Then the other ronins came up, and they examined the prisoner attentively, and saw that he was a noble-looking man some sixty years of age, dressed in a white sleeping-robe, which was stained by the blood from the thigh-wound which Jutaro had inflicted. The two men felt convinced that this was no other than Kotsukenosuke; and they asked him his name, but he gave no answer. So they gave the signal whistle, and all their comrades collected together at the call. Then Oishi Kuranosuke, bringing a lantern, gazed hard at the old man's features, and it was indeed Kotsukenosuke; and if further proof were wanting, he still bore a scar on his forehead where their master, Asano Takurninokami, had wounded him during the affair at the castle. There being no possibility of mistake, therefore, Oishi Kuranosuke went down on his knees, and addressing the old man very respectfully, said: "My lord we are the retainers of Asano Takuminokami. Last year your lordship and our master quarreled in the palace, and our master was sentenced to hara-kiri, and his family was ruined. We have come to-night to avenge him, as is the duty of faithful and loyal men. I beg your lordship to acknowledge the justice of our purpose. And now, my lord, we request you earnestly to perform hara-kiri. I myself shall have the honor to act as your second, and when I have humbly received your lordship's head, it is my intention to lay it as an offering upon the grave of Asano Takuminokami." Thus, in consideration of the high rank of Kotsukenosuke, the ronins treated him with the greatest courtesy, and over and over again begged him to perform hara-kiri. At last Kuranosuke, seeing that it was useless to urge him to die the death of a nobleman, forced him down, and cut off his head with the same dagger with which Asano Takuminokami had killed himself. Then the forty-seven comrades, happy at having accomplished their design, placed the head in a bucket, and prepared to leave, but they first carefully extinguished all the lights and fires in the place, lest by accident a fire should break out and the neighbors suffer. As they were on their way to Takanawa, the suburb in which the temple called Sengakuji stands, daybreak came, and the people flocked out to see the forty-seven men, who with their clothes and arms all blood-stained, presented a terrible appearance. Everyone praised them, wondering at their bravery and faithfulness. But they expected every moment that Kotsukenosnke's father-in-law would attack them and carry off the head, and made ready to die bravely, sword in hand. However, they reached Takanawa in safety, for Matsudaira Akinokami, one of the eighteen chief daimyos of Japan, had been highly pleased when he heard of the last night's work, and he had made ready to assist the ronins in case they were attacked. So Kotsukenosuke's father-in-law did not dare pursue them. At about seven in the morning they came opposite the palace of Matsudaira, the Prince of Sendai, and the Prince, hearing of it, sent a councilor to them inviting them to come and rest. The councilor said to Oishi Kuranosuke: "Sir, my master requests me to beg you, as you must be worn out after all you have undergone, to come in and accept such poor refreshment as we can offer you." "I thank you, sir," replied Kuranosuke. "It is very good of his lordship to trouble himself to think of us. We accept his kindness gratefully." So the forty-seven ronins went into the palace, and were given a feast, and all the retainers of the Prince of Sendai came and praised them. After returning many thanks to their hosts, they left the palace of the Prince of Sendai and hastened to Sengakuji, where they were met by the abbot of the monastery, who went to the front gate to receive them, and led them to the tomb of Takuminokami. When they came to their lord's grave, they took the head of Kotsukenosuke, and having washed it clean in a well close by, laid it as an offering before the tomb. When they had done this, they engaged the priests of the temple to come and read prayers while they burnt incense. Then Kuranosuke, having given all the money that he had by him to the abbot, said: "When we forty-seven men have performed hara-kiri, I beg you to bury us decently. I rely on your kindness. This is only a trifle that I have to offer, but such as it is, please accept it." And the abbot, wondering at the faithful courage of the men, with tears in his eyes, promised to fulfill their wishes. So the forty-seven ronins, with their minds at rest, waited patiently until they should receive the orders of the government. At last they were summoned to the Court, and the sentence passed on them was as follows: "Whereas, neither respecting the dignity of the city nor fearing the government, having formed a league to kill your enemy, you violently broke into the house of Kira Kotsukenosuke by night and murdered him, the sentence of this Court is, that for this audacious conduct, you perform hara-kiri." When the sentence had been read, the forty-seven ronins were divided into four parties, and handed over to the safe keeping of four different daimyos; and sheriffs were sent to the mansions of those daimyos in whose presence the ronins were made to perform hara-kiri. But as from the very beginning they had all made up their minds that to this end they must come, they met their death nobly; and their corpses were carried to Sengakuji, and buried in front of the tomb of their master, Asano Takuminokami. And the fame of this became known, and people flocked to pray at the graves of these faithful men. Among those who came to pray was a Satsuma man, who, bowing down before the grave of Oishi Kuranosuke, said: "When I saw you lying drunk by the roadside at Yamashina, in Kyoto, I did not know that you were plotting to avenge your lord; and, thinking you to be a faithless man, I trampled on you and spat in your face as I passed. And now I have come to ask pardon and make amends for the insult of last year." With those words he bowed down again, and drawing a dagger, stabbed himself in the belly and died. And the chief priest of the temple, taking pity upon him, buried him by the side of the ronins; and his tomb still remains to be seen with those of the forty-seven comrades. This is the end of the story of the forty-seven ronins. LESSON 18. A TALK ABOUT EDUCATION. A. What are your views on the subject of education? I should be glad to hear them. B. Well, they're very soon stated: I haven't any at all. A. You surely don't mean to say that you've never given a moment's thought to the most important factor in the future development of the human race! Suppose you had children of your own; do you mean to tell me that their physical, moral, and intellectual development would be a matter of absolute indifference to you ? B. Of course I wish to see my fellow-creatures healthy in body and mind rather than weak and vicious. What I mean to say is that I don't think education has much to do with it; it's no use teaching morality and the laws of health at school if the children's home-life's unhealthy and vicious; and no amount of cramming the mind'll make a stupid boy clever. My father had strong views on the subject of education. His idea was that no human being's naturally idle, and that if you once find out what each one has a special aptitude for, and set them to it, they'll go on spontaneously. A. I quite agree with him. The only difficulty is to find out these special attributes -- I mean aptitudes. B. Precisely so. My father thought he'd discovered that my special aptitude was the study of English literature of the seventeenth century. As this was his own special hobby, he was delighted with the discovery. The result is that I have a perfect hatred of literature. The very sight of a volume of Milton or Drayton makes me ill. A. Yes, the only literature you seem to appreciate is the Daily Mail and the Field. B. Come, I read the magazines sometimes. A. You mean you look at the illustrations in the Strand, and read a ghost-story now and then. B. It'll perhaps raise me somewhat in your opinion if I tell you that I really took a good deal of interest in education two years ago; I even went so far as to order Herbert Spencer on Education. A friend of mine who's an ardent disciple of Herbert Spencer was horror-struck at my superficial way of approaching the subject, and said that I oughtn't to think of reading the Education until I'd mastered First Principles. The end of it was that I bought a complete set of Herbert Spencer's works; but unfortunately I stuck fast in the middle of the first chapter of First Principles, so of course I've never got to the Education at all. There they are -- the whole series -- Complete Works of Herbert Spencer -- on a shelf all to themselves; I had it put up on purpose. A. Well, there are some points on which I don't quite agree with Spencer myself . . . . B. Thanks, I'd rather not hear any criticisms till I've read the book myself; I don't want to bias my mind in any way. I'm afraid it's more want of interest in the subject than love of impartiality; but I can't understand how anyone who's once taken an interest in education can ever lose it. ----------------------------------------------------------- B. Since I saw you last, I've read that book on education. A. What book on education? B. Herbert Spencer's. It's all nonsense about your having to read First Principles first. I read it through, and understood every word; it's all as clear as can be. I agree with all he says, especially about moral education. There's one part where he says -- wait a minute, I'll find the page. Here it is, no, it isn't. No, I can't find the place just now. But it's all about how much better it is for children to be punished naturally rather than artificially! A. I don't quite follow you. What do you mean by children being punished artificially? B. Oh, those are not Spencer's actual words; I forget the terms he uses. But it's like, for instance, if a child has had out its box of toys and leaves them scattered all over the floor. The wrong correction would be for the mother to scold the child and then clear away the things herself. The right way would be for the mother to make the child clear them away; or else the next time the child wanted to play with its toys, the mother would say, "If you won't put away your toys when you've done with them, I can't let you have them." A. In other terms, to make the punishment tit the crime. B. Yes, exactly. Or if a little girl's never ready when the mother and the other children are going for a walk or an excursion, simply to leave her at home, and after having been left at home like this while the other children are enjoying themselves, the little girl would soon learn to be ready in time. A. Well, if you agree with everything that Spencer says, I must say I don't. He sometimes goes too far. When he say that there's too much memorizing of rules and not enough in the way of reasoning and demonstration, that's quite sound, and I agree. But when he suggests that the multiplication table should not be learnt by heart he's making a mistake. Mathematical reasoning's all right, but every child should be made to memorize the multiplication table, even up to nineteen times nineteen; it saves such a tremendous amount of calculating work. B. Yes, I agree with you there. But what I specially enjoyed are his hits at ornamental scholarship. Didn't you? A. Yes. Not that I'm against scholarship in the truest and best sense of the term, but I'm certainly against that sort of education that gives the shadow instead of the substance. B. Here's the passage I mean -- page seventeen, "Men who would blush if caught pronouncing Iphigenia instead of Iphigenia, or would resent as an insult any imputation of ignorance respecting the imaginary labors of an imaginary demigod, show not the slightest shame in confessing that they do not know where the Eustachian tubes are, what are the actions of the spinal cord, what is the normal rate of pulsation, or how the lungs are inflated " -- and so on. But I never heard of the Eustachian tubes, did you? I confess I'd forgotten all about them when I first read Spencer's book. Since then I've studied up my physiology again. A. Well, what are they, then? B. I'm ashamed to say I've forgotten again. The only thing that bothers me is, whether it's much good writing about education. It seems to me that the real difficulty is not to know what's right, but to do it. When I was a boy, I was told over and over again that if I lay on the wet grass, I should get rheumatism when I got older, and now I have it regularly every winter -- I had a touch of it last night Now I don't know that I ever questioned the fact that I should get rheumatism -- I simply didn't care. The fact is, some people are born prudent, just as others are born reckless and impulsive, and you can't alter their nature by preaching to them. A. No one ever supposed that education would work miracles. It's enough that it gives people the chance of doing what's right and reasonable. Besides, you forget that it's part of the business of education to trait people to habits of foresight and self-restraint. B. That's just what I doubt whether it can do. A. At any rate, I'm certain you'd have been a better man in every respect if your father had educated you on Spencer's principles. B. Very likely, but I'm afraid I should have been rather a prig -- I should have been too perfect. LESSON 19. JAPANESE ACTIVITIES AND POLICIES IN MANCHURIA- The following interesting article, in a slightly more developed form, appears in an official publication issued by the South Manchuria Railway Company. The author is Mr. H. W. Kinney, well-known as a journalist and novelist. For some years he was the Director of the Department of Education of Hawaii. He is one of those whose writings make known abroad the true state of things in Japan, a country with which he has great sympathy. In a simple and attractive style, he gives his impressions of the Japanese people, their mode of thought, their character and ideals, their policy and activity. Interest is added to Mr. Kinney's writings when we remember that his mother-tongue was Danish, and that for the first twenty years of his life English was an almost unknown language to him. --------------------------------------------- To the world at large Manchuria represents a vast area capable of furnishing it with immense quantities of agricultural, forest, mining, and other products. In its relation to the world, Manchuria is a new country. Not so long ago it had only one (and that a relatively unimportant) open port, Newchwang, through which its foreign trade was conducted. Since then this country has been opened, first by Russian activities, then by Japanese development. Railways have been built which make possible the utilization of enormous tracts of land which, although hitherto unproductive, are of marvelous fertility. During this modern period of development the population has increased from twelve million to twenty-two million inhabitants. Modern industries have been established on a large scale where, some thirty or forty years ago, only the most primitive methods of production were employed, and even then in a very limited measure. And with this, the resources of Manchuria have not yet been even half developed. New railways cause new regions to be settled. New industries spring up, production increases, and the number of people who are able to gain a living and attain prosperity in Manchuria becomes greater each year. The greater share of the credit for this contribution to civilization may be claimed by Japan, which, after the Treaty of Portsmouth in 1905, took over the only partially developed and principally military Russian enterprises in Manchuria, and embarked on the policy of economic development which has made Manchuria the most prosperous and peaceful region in China. In this work the South Manchuria Railway Company has been the principal factor. The activities and aims of the Japanese in Manchuria have from time to time been the object of suspicion and misunderstanding abroad. The reasons, however, for Japan's interest and her ambitions in Manchuria are easily to be understood. There is no question of conquest, nor is there even any question of colonization on a large scale. From the very beginning Japan decided to work out her future by means of industry and commerce -- not by war. She must make the money which she needs in order to pay for the foodstuffs which she must import to feed her rapidly increasing population. She will do this by developing her industry and commerce. In these days of strenuous world-competition, she must seek the markets where she may enjoy the greatest natural advantages. These lie principally in eastern Asia, and Manchuria furnishes one logical field. Thought of conquest is out of the question for many reasons. In the first place, it would be contrary to Japan's established policy of peaceful co-operation with the other Powers (of which she gave a clear demonstration at the Washington Conference). In the second place, it would cause a hatred of Japan on the part of all the rest of China, and this would necessarily result in the loss of her most important and promising market; the game would not be worth the candle. Finally, it has been clearly demonstrated that Japanese employed in a small way as farmers, small merchants, and the like cannot compete with the Chinese, whose standard of living is much lower, and whose energy, patience, and thrift are inexhaustible. Japan must therefore seek to gain from Manchuria by assisting the Chinese to develop the country, and by showing them the way. This she has done, and is doing, by building railways, by showing them better farming methods, and by finding new markets and processes by which the utility and value of the products are increased. As a result, Manchuria is becoming in a rapidly increasing degree a vast storehouse of the raw materials which Japan needs for her industries at home. As the buying power of Manchuria increases with the increase of population, and with the prosperity of the inhabitants, it is also becoming a greater market in which Japan can sell her manufactured goods. To some extent, through profits from railways, mines, and industry and commerce, Japan has profited directly from her activities in Manchuria, but on the whole the results have as yet been out of all proportion to the money and effort expended, and this is largely due to the fact that Japan's principal instrument, the South Manchuria Railway Company, considers itself as a civilizing force rather than as a mere commercial enterprise for profit. It devotes huge portions of its earnings to cultural and humanitarian work; it builds and maintains numerous modem schools, hospitals, and the like, which can yield neither direct nor indirect financial returns. The value of this contribution is, however, greater than it seems at first sight, for it serves a valuable purpose by instructing the Chinese in the arts and means of modern civilization. An example is being provided which the Chinese are showing greater and greater inclination to follow, as is demonstrated by the tremendous improvements of their own towns made through their own efforts. If the freedom from war, which Manchuria has enjoyed almost without interruption since the time of the Russo-Japanese war, continue, it is certain that this region, which was until recent years considered by the inhabitants of China Proper as a wild and barbarous country, will become to them on a magnificent scale a demonstration of what may be done in the rest of China. Thus the aims of Japan in Manchuria are above all economic, yet the strategic considerations cannot be overlooked. Japan is well aware of the fact that if dangers should ever threaten her, such are most likely to develop on the continent of Asia. For centuries the Japanese have recognized the possible peril arising from the geographical position of Korea, "the dagger pointed at Japan's hart"; and the strategic necessity of keeping that peninsula free from danger of hostile occupation is indisputable. It is thus to the interest of Japan, both for economic and military reasons, that Manchuria remain peaceful and undisturbed in Chinese hands. Whose hands these be is relatively unimportant, as long as they be strong enough to maintain peace and order. It is the policy of the Japanese government, therefore, to remain on terms of friendly co-operation with these who rule Manchuria and to assist them, so far as this may be done without encroaching on the principle of non-interference with the internal affairs of China. A strong and far-sighted government of Manchuria is to the best interests of Japan. The portion of Manchuria which Japan actually controls -- the Leased Territory, with about 1,300 square miles; and the Railway Zone, of about 100 square miles -- is exceedingly small when compared with the total of about 282,000 contained in the Three Eastern Provinces. Japan's military force in Manchuria is small, some 7,500 men, though by treaty she has the right to station double that number there. In view of the widespread operations of bandits, often in large bands which attack even small towns, this force is by no means over-large. The development of Manchuria's resources, accompanied by an increase in its population, which will become prosperous through wresting rich products from a hitherto largely idle soil, is the aim of Japan in Manchuria. This will give her raw material for her factories, while the hordes of immigrants from Shantung and Chili who settle as pioneers in Manchuria every year, there rising from poverty-stricken coolies to prosperous farmers, are creating an increase in the world's buying population from which not only Japan but all commercial nations will benefit. A good beginning has already been made; merchants of many nations are already operating and profiting from the great work of civilization which is being carried on, and for which Japan, and her principal instrument, the South Manchuria Railway Company, may justly Claim the greater measure of credit. LESSON 20. EAST AND WEST. "Santaro" is the pen-name of a Japanese writer who has contributed at various times to the columns of the Japan Advertiser under the heading Nippon Tayori a large number of essays, reminiscences, articles, and talks. His style is marked by a facility of expression combined with a simple charm that has gained the appreciation of all those who have read his work. The following is a slightly abridged version of one of his most charming talks entitled East and West. In a few words of introduction he says that this is his own translation of a little moral essay which he had read in Japanese to a group of children. He adds, "To translate one's own composition from one language into another is something like taking one's own photograph: it is difficult to perform, and when it is made, the result is not satisfactory. However, the reader may be curious to know the kind of things that some Japanese are saying among themselves upon the difficult problem of East and West." ------------------------------------------------------ The East and West! What a contrast! The human love of classification is displayed in so many other twin terms, such as rich and poor, wise and foolish, etc. In all these classifications the difficulty is to put your finger on the line that separates the two. There can be no person wise enough to draw a line of distinction between the wise and the foolish in such a way that all mankind will acknowledge it to be just. Whether any person is good or bad is in a large measure a matter of opinion on which we may justly differ. Nor is there any who can make the correct distinction between the East and the West, and say that this is Eastern and that is Western. In too many cases the adjectives Eastern or Western, like the adjectives "good" and "bad," "beautiful" and "ugly," have been used and are used to indicate the mental or emotional state of the person who uses them. What is Eastern contains so much that is Western and vice versa that it is nearer the mark to say that the strictly Western and the strictly Eastern are non-existent The Bible and Christianity, which we generally regard as being Western, are of Eastern origin. An examination of that book, especially the Old Testament, will convince us that there are many passages in it which are descriptive of Eastern manners and customs, and also many expressions that we think we can better understand than the Westerners. And no wonder; the book was of Eastern origin, written by Eastern people, and possibly for the Eastern people. But since the establishment of the Roman Catholic Church, and with the free mingling of the older classical influence of the Greek and Roman civilization, the West developed a peculiar Westernized Christianity, as opposed to the original Eastern Christianity. So when, many centuries later, this Westernized Christianity was brought back to the East, it was found to have changed nearly out of all recognition to the original, so far as the outward forms and ceremonies were concerned. It was as if a child born of Japanese parents were sent over to Europe, brought up and educated there, and married a European woman, and the son born to them, thoroughly assimilated to the manners and thoughts of Europe, came back to Japan to reclaim his father's birthright. In regard to Christianity as it is in Japan to-day, we are told by those who know best that the days of merely foreign propaganda have passed or are passing, to be supplanted by those of a new Japanese Christianity. At first the valiant efforts of the foreign missionaries, and then the rise of true Japanese Christian workers, and the co-operation between them have helped to bring about this state of affairs. In a similar manner, a new Japanese civilization is rising upon the model of the Western, with its roots deeply laid in the ancient soil of Oriental civilization. Thus it is not so easy after all to define how far the East is Western, or the West is Eastern. The more I study this problem the more am I convinced of the essential oneness of human nature between the East and the West. Only the outward symptoms or modes of expression differ. Where the Japanese say o-hayo, the English say good morning, and these two expressions mean totally different things, but the good wishes underlying them are the same. Our superficial habit of looking at the outward forms, instead of looking into the inner meaning of those outward forms, has been and is the cause of many a disastrous misunderstanding between peoples of different towns, provinces, and states. If we are estranged from other peoples on the ground of essential difference in opinion (as we are from monkeys, savages, or criminals), we may wage a perpetual warfare against them, but it is a shame for mankind, if we are to fall out with others on the ground of misunderstanding, on whichever side the fault lies. Civilized people should be ashamed to quarrel over nothing because of their ignorance of foreign manners or customs. While attending an English conversation class once I saw a teacher grow indignant at the words pronounced by a pupil. It was a misunderstanding and soon righted, but the unpleasantness lasted for a few minutes till the explanation was forthcoming. The boy had meant to say "I agree with you," which, because of his clumsy pronunciation, sounded to the foreigner's ear as, "I am angry with you." This incident took place 30 years ago, and I feel proud to say that I was that boy who made the correct interpretation which resulted in apology, thanks, and lastly, good-natured general laughter. This incident has recurred to me from time to time in the course of the journey I have been since making in the world. I have witnessed many cases of grave estrangement, of broken friendships, and separation of business relations caused by similar misunderstandings in words or manners. Not only from the viewpoint of social inter-course but from that of commercial or political interest should we guard against this sort of misunderstanding. In our intercourse with the West, or in the intercourse of Westerners with the East, the crown of success is for those who know the other party tightly. Our own conservatives have often said and are still saying at the top of their voices: "Let the foreigners study our manners, etc., instead of our going out of our way to study their stupid customs." This argument does not hold water. It is the argument of those whose destiny it is to go to the wall, to perish from the earth -- as the history of the world proves. The conservatives again say: "Begin with a study of our own customs, history, traditions, etc." It sounds plausible, but it means little else than the proverb, "Charity begins at home." My own experience, as indeed that of many, is that as we grow in our knowledge of the other countries, we increase in that of our own. All linguists agree in saying that one knowing a foreign language best knows his own, and I commend this saying to every thoughtful young person ambitious to make himself useful to his country, and his country great; for the strongest fighter is he who knows the power and weakness of his antagonist as well as his own. LESSON 21. BUSINESS PROVERBS AND MAXIMS PART T In a previous lesson we read about proverbs what they are, and something about their nature. We noticed among other things that proverbs are generally very old, and that many of them, in consequence, are written in the older styles of language. We noted, too that proverbs are usually brief and concise, expressing in very few words some well-known and generally recognized truth. Proverbs have been defined as "the wisdom of many and the wit of one." As, indeed, one of the essential properties of a proverb is that the truth contained in it must embody popular wisdom and not the wisdom of an individual, we generally exclude from proverbs the famous sayings of well-known personalities, however eminent they may be. In other terms: Proverbs are the wisdom of the streets. Whereas the majority of proverbs are admirable examples of wit, revealing a depth of philosophy or acute observation in the form of a quaint or original simile or of a humorous self-contradiction, there are others that are mere platitudes, that is, dull or commonplace statements in the guise of profound and solemn truths: Everything passes away except what is well done may be quoted as an example of a somewhat trivial expression. We have seen that while some proverbs are philosophical, satirical, or in the nature of comments on human life, human vanities and weaknesses, others give advice and encouragement to us in our daily activities and in our dealings with others. In the present lesson we shall examine a number of proverbs of the latter sort. One rather large group may serve as advice to business people or to all who are engaged in buying and selling. We shall note how great an importance is attached to honesty, fair-dealing and correctness in behavior. The following examples, of course, do not form an exhaustive catalogue of the proverbs relating to this subject. On the contrary, they are but a tiny selection from among hundreds of others. Buying and selling is but winning and losing. This is quite true, when we come to think about it, but of course it is not necessary that in a business transaction one party should always win and the other lose.@ The best and most desirable kind of business is where both parties gain by its transaction.@ In the wording of this proverb we note the rather old-fashioned use of the word but.@ In the more modern style we should say: "Buying and selling is only wining and losing," or "Buying and selling is nothing other than winning and losing." It is well to buy when someone else wants to sell. This is sound business philosophy. If the other person does not feel disposed to sell, you may have to pay an exorbitant price for the goods. If, on the contrary, the other party is more anxious to sell than you are to buy, you will buy with advantage. On the other hand: What costs nothing is worth nothing, Nothing is cheap if you don't want it, The thing you don't want is dear at any price, More than we use is more than we want. Some people are so simple and foolish that whenever they see something to be sold at an exceptionally low price, they want to buy it, thinking more of the bargain than of the real value of the article. In opposition to this proverb, however, there is one that says: Never refuse a good offer. In the face of such contradictory advice we have to decide according to our judgment, weighing the conflicting claims of prudence and boldness. And there is also a proverb: Make hay while the sun shines. Haymakers, as we know, can work only in good weather. It is no use gathering hay while it is wet. This means that we should take advantage of good opportunities, for such opportunities may not last long or may not be repeated. In other terms: let us make the most of our opportunities. Advice to the same effect is found in the proverb: Strike while the iron's hot. This is an allusion to the work of a blacksmith. While the iron is hot, it is easy to beat it and hammer it into shape. If we wait until the iron is cold, it will be too late to do anything with it. The following group of proverbs urge us to boldness in our dealings: Fortune favors the brave, Nothing venture, nothing have. In other words, if we do not venture sometimes, we shall never gain; we must sometimes be prepared to take risks. Dry shoes won't catch fish is to the same effect. To catch fish it may be necessary to step into the water of the river or the sea. Here we note how in English, and other European languages, inanimate objects are personified, and made to appear as if they acted by their own will and initiative instead of being the passive instruments used by man. You cannot make omelets without breaking eggs. This means that if you want to produce something you must be prepared to lose something or to consume something. We cannot paint a picture without using up paint, nor make a table without using up wood, nor build a wall without using up bricks or stone. The above proverb, by the way, is a translation from the French; omelet is a French word meaning a dish made of eggs which have been beater up together and fried. Rather similar to this proverb is: You cannot have your cake and eat it (sometimes expressed in the contrary order: You cannot eat your cake and have it). It is certainly a good thing to have a cake and it is also certainly a good thing to eat it (if we like cakes), but it is impossible to have the advantage of these two good things at the same time. We might also say: You cannot save money and spend it at the same time. Great profits, great risks may be interpreted in two ways, one counseling boldness, and the other prudence. In the first case we may read it as "You will never get great profits unless you are prepared to run great risks"; in the other case we may take it to mean: "Do not be afraid of running risks if you want to succeed." The following is a counsel of prudence: Do not put all your eggs into owe basket. If we put all our eggs into one basket, and if an accident should happen to the basket, we lose all our eggs. This advice has reference chiefly to investments. If the business man invests all his money in one undertaking, and if the undertaking fails, he will lose all his money; if he distributes his capital among several undertakings, he is loss liable to lose it all. A small shop may have a good trade suggests that it is well to be moderate and not to be too ambitious in our ventures. Some people who are doing good business in a small way become impatient and ambitious; they wish to increase their profits and get rich quickly; they take a larger shop and do business on a larger scale, and, risking too much, may possibly fail. It is sometimes wiser to be content with a small shop and a good trade than to risk one's fortune in a larger shop, which may have a bad trade. On the other hand, we have such proverbs as Never do things by halves, which is similar to What is worth doing at all is worth doing well. Pay well when you are served well is a sound maxim. It is similar in its teaching to The best is the cheapest in the end. An article that is inexpensive may be of poor quality and will soon be worn out, in which case we shall have to replace it by a new one. It is more economical to buy something that will last for a long time even if the initial cost is greater. LESSON 22. BUSINESS PROVERBS AND MAXIMS. (CONCLUSION.) Let us now examine the following three proverbs which approve of thrift. A penny saved is a penny got (A penny is an English coin worth about 4 sen), Take care of the pence and the pounds wilt take care of themselves. Penny wise, pound foolish, however, reminds us that some people who are very careful about little things may be careless in larger things; they may spend a penny with great wisdom, but spend a pound (about l0 yen) very foolishly. There is direct contradiction in the following pair of proverbs: It is better to have a hen to-morrow than an egg to-day, Better an egg to-day than a hen to-morrow The first is in favour of a spirit of enterprise, and the second of prudence, but in both cases the advice seems sound. How often in our daily life we receive contradictory advice of this sort! One friend says to us "Be bold; nothing venture nothing have!" the other says "Be careful, safety first!" Better an egg to-day than a hen to-morrow reminds us of an even better-known proverb to the same effect, viz. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. There here are many proverbs in favor of fairness and honesty in our dealings, but the following must suffice: Honesty is the best policy, Correct accounts keep good friends. The second is frequently used in such circumstances as the following: A man remembers that he owes a small sum to a friend, and offers the money. His friend is inclined not to accept the sum that is due to him, and says, "Oh no, it is too small a matter, don't trouble about trifles like that!" The other one, however, reminds him: "Correct accounts keep good friends;" meaning that carelessness and disregard in settling debts even among friends is a bad policy, and may possibly result in disagreements or a weakening of the friendship. Upon which the friend generally gracefully accepts what is due to him, which is perfectly correct and right. A bargain is a bargain. This does not mean, as one might suppose: "A thing bought at a low price is really cheap," but "When you have agreed to do a thing, you must be prepared to do it"; in other terms: "A contract once made is a sacred thing, and must not be violated." Men of business must not break their word twice. This means that if a man of business fails to keep his promise once, it is a bad thing, but if on two occasions he breaks his promise, it is unpardonable, and nobody will trust him any more. No honest man ever repented of his honesty, We are bound to be honest but not to be rich. Honest men fear neither the light nor the dark are proverbs which also emphasize the need for honesty above all. On the other hand there is a satirical proverb which says: He that resolves to deal with none but honest men must leave off dealing; in other words: "Anybody who makes up his mind that he will only deal with honest men must not go into business, for there are too few honest men!" Let us hope that this proverb is more ironical than true. The following proverb is also a sad comment on the general dishonesty or untrustworthiness of individuals: Lend your money to a city, but never to a man. Why should it be wise to trust a city more than a man? Because a man, as a single individual; may fail or may die, whereas a city or a corporation is a permanent institution, an organism that cannot repudiate its obligations. According to proverbs, lending and borrowing are always improper proceedings, and are to be condemned. A man in debt is caught in a net. This, by the way, is one of the many proverbs expressed in rhyme. In a future lesson we may examine some of these. Here are other proverbs condemning loan and debts: Better buy than borrow (It is better to buy than to borrow), Better give a shilling than lend and lose half-a-crown. Half-a-crown (or a half-crown), by the way, is an English coin worth two shillings and sixpence. There is another coin called a crown, but crown have become exceedingly rare and are practically never seen. Lend only what you can afford to lose, Debt is an evil conscience, Debt is the worst poverty, He who lives borrowing dislikes paying, Out of debt, out of danger. Other miscellaneous proverbs having an application to business and bargaining are: A good merchant may meet with a misfortune. For misfortunes are unavoidable, and the best we can do is to provide for accidents by means of insurance, which in its nature is the contrary of the vicious principle of gambling. But in both cases the element of luck enters for when we gamble, we bet that we shall succeed; whereas in the case of insurance we bet that we shall fail or die. We are reminded of another and similar saying: Accidents will happen, even in the best regulated families. If you sell the cow, you sell her milk too. which in a certain degree reminds us of: Do not kill the goose that lays the golden eggs. Keep your shop, and your shop will keep you (this is really a play upon the word keep, which is used here in two different meanings). Pay beforehand and your work will be behindhand (it is well-known that a workman who is paid in advance for his work sometimes neglects the work for which he has been paid). Do not throw good money after bad means that when you have lost money over a bad or doubtful transaction, you may lose more money if you try to regain what you have lost; It is no good crying over spilt milk is similar in its moral. In other terms, accept your loses philosophically, and try to compensate yourself in other directions rather than expend your efforts in useless regret. Possession is nine-tenths of the law is a legal maxim that means that actual possession is always a great advantage. If each of two men claims that the thing in dispute belongs to him, the one who actually holds it is likely to be the gainer. Here are other proverbs having an indirect application to those who depend for their livelihood on good judgment and logical reasoning; they advocate concentration on one objective and urge the worthlessness of having divergent aims: If you run after two hares, you will catch neither, Between two stools you fall to the ground We may note here that the word stool is an Older English word than chair. In present-day English, a stool is a chair without a back, but in the older language "stool" meant any piece of furniture on which we sit. So the proverb means, "If you try to sit on two things at the same time, you will sit on neither. Jack of all trades and master of none. Two of a trade seldom agree is a comment on the fact that rivals or competitors are necessarily jealous of each other and are therefore frequently in opposition. In this proverb we have an example of old English word-usage. The word a (or an) and one were originally the same word, and consequently we sometimes find (especially in proverbs and ancient sayings) the word a (or an) where to-day we should use the word one, or the expression the same. In modem English this proverb would run: "Two people of one trade (or of the same trade) seldom agree." We find another example of this usage in the proverb Birds of a feather flock together (a rhyming proverb by the way), meaning "Birds having the same sort of feathers like to keep together." which we may interpret as "People who resemble each other in nationality, race, or opinions tend to form groups, sects, and societies. "Trust, but not too much is applicable to business and to all other cases in which the question arises of trusting people. We may quote in conclusion one of the principles of commerce: Trade is the mother of money. LESSON 23. EXTRACTS FR0M MY DIARY. The following are extracts from the diary that I started in February, 1922, in which I describe my first journey from London to Tokyo. The first pages have been either lost or mislaid. In these I noted my impressions between London and Port Said. The first part of the journey was by train through France. At Marseilles I went on board the Shizuoka Maru, of the Nippon Yusen Kaisha line. A three days' voyage through the Mediterranean, during which the boat made its way through the Straits of Bonafaccio (between Corsica and Sardinia) and the Straits of Messina (between Sicily and the mainland of Italy), and passing close to the island of Crete, brought us to Port Said, at which point these extracts begin. They are written in the styles characteristic of diaries, varying from the extremely laconic or telegraphic style (in which pronouns and articles are freely omitted, and whole sentences reduced to one or two words) to the more elaborate style necessary for descriptive purposes. After an interval of some years, I now read (not without interest, and at times with amusement) these impressions of my first journey outside Europe, when everything non-European was utterly novel. The Far East has not lost its fascination for me, and I enjoy as much ever the sights and experiences that it affords me both in the islands of Japan and on the Asiatic mainland. The extracts conclude with the following words, "I am in Japan, and I feel that I am going to like it." My first impression was true. Writing now many years after, I can say, "I'm in Japan, and I like it as much as ever." HAROLD E. PALMER. PART T. Port Said., Feb. 18th 1922 Early morning. Wind and rain. Very cold. Grey water. No sign of the blue Mediterranean, and no sign of Egypt. About 9 the coast comes into sight in the far distance, with the houses of Port Said. Suggests the Belgian coast and Ostend. Rain stops. Warmer. Reach the breakwater and steam into the harbor. No piers or wharves. We are immediately surrounded by boats filled with yelling, gesticulating natives of all colors; many of them look like Mediterranean pirates. Police boats, with Egyptian policemen in overcoats. They shove and yell as loudly as any of the other people. The natives come on board and start a bazaar, spreading out their carpets, shawls, beads, etc. etc. on the decks, shouting and screaming to attract customers. Land. Customs. And then emerge into Africa and the East. Wide streets, good shops, splendid hotels. Buildings quite different from anything in Europe, but I can't describe them. A tour round the town. It comes on to rain violently. Then the sun appears. Then a violent wind with sand storm. Genuine specimens of Egyptian weather. More French is spoken here than any other language; one feels it is the French Orient(similar to Tunis, Algiers, etc.), but English, Italian and Greek are current. The language of the people is of course Arabic (Egyptian variety). On board again. The decks crowded with merchants. I was amused to hear an Egyptian boatman inviting the Japanese passengers to take a trip: "Ano ne, Watakushi no sampan!" It is now five o'clock. The crowd is cleared off. Up with the anchor! Good-bye to Port Said. We move on into the Suez canal, and proceed at the rate of six miles an hour; practically a walking pace. It will probably take us 14 hours to get through. The canal is much wider and the land is much less desert-like, than I had imagined. Trees (not palms), telegraph poles, a railway, and shallow muddy lakes. On we go, a string of ships in a long line. Then comes the darkness. It is still cold and I am glad of the fur coat. During the evening the boat stops. It has to be moored to the bank (together with its companions) to let a string of boats pass in the other direction. And so to bed, and from my pillow l see through the porthole the bank of the canal crawling along at the rate of six miles an hour. Feb. 19th. Wake about six, and see we are still far from Suez. We are crossing the Bitter Lakes at present. In the far distance on the African side a range of mountains. Out of the lakes into the canal again. It is far more impressive here than at the Port Said end. Desert on both sides. On the Asiatic side it stretches far away towards Palestine. Old trenches and barbed-wire entanglements all over the place. We approach on the African side a little railway station, cream-coloured, and surrounded by trees. A little later a real oasis! a cluster of palms with a strip of very green vegetation. We are still steaming at 6 knots an hour; a smart walking pace. The desert slowly passes by. This is an anxious time for the navigators; the slightest error of judgment may run the ship into the bank. They are on the bridge all the time. The mountains get a little nearer. Then a long cluster of houses -- Suez. At 10 o'clock we pass the port of Suez, with its long line of houses, offices, hotels, wharves, embankments, avenues; we steam out about a mile into the Red Sea and drop anchor. A few visits from natives. An English passenger comes on board. An hour or so later we turn due south and start our 3,400 mile journey to Colombo. On either hand are mountains. On the Asiatic side they are of a creamy-rose colour and rise straight up out of the sea. That is the beginning of the Sinai peninsula, and this is the place where Moses is supposed to have crossed. Later we do actually sight Mount Sinai but at an immense distance. Have now been a week on board. Feb. 20th. Wake at 5.30. Warm morning. Blue and cloudless sky, dark blue sea. Far away to the West the African mountains can just be seen. Weather gets warmer and warmer. Feb. 2lst. To-day we are in the middle of the Red Sea just east of Mecca. No land visible at all. Day after to-morrow we shall pass a number of islands, and that night we pass through the narrow straits of Bab-el-Mandib, and so into the Arabian Sea. Time does not hang heavy on my hands. What with my Japanese lesson, my daily talk with Dr. G., the daily visit to the bridge, the daily game of chess, meals an bath, there's not much time left. Every day we receive news by wireless. Feb. 22nd. A very hot day. We have left Egypt and Nubia far behind, and are heading for Aden. An eventless day. No land nor islands. A hot, burning sun overhead but a slight haze on the horizon. The electric fans are working everywhere. Sun sets about six, and three quarters of an hour later it is quite dark. There is little twilight in these latitudes. At night the stars shine as I have never seen them shine before, like clusters of diamonds on dark blue velvet. The Pole Star is sinking towards the horizon, but to the South new stars and constellations appear. Feb. 23rd. 11.30 p. m. We all feel rather restless this evening. In half an hour's time we shall pass through the Straits and say good-bye to the Red Sea. The heat has been terrific (82 degrees Fahrenheit in the coolest part of the ship). We have been watching a procession of islands large and small, some of them volcanic craters, all of them bare and barren. The sea has been lead-colored and quite smooth and oily; the sky has been steely-blue with distant black clouds. This afternoon they fitted up on deck a huge tank in which half a dozen people can bathe at the same time. I bought a bathing costume from the barber and went in, sharing the tank with the lively Malay prince and the Japanese colonel. Feb. 24th. Much cooler to-day owing to a very high wind, and perhaps to the fact that we are out of the Red Sea. All the day the sea has been getting rougher and rougher. This morning at 6 o'clock we were off Aden, but too far away to see it. We are approaching the Equator. At noon the sun is not far from overhead, and the Pole Star keeps sinking. Feb. 25th. Still cooler t0-day, so it is just comfortably warm provided you wear the thinnest of clothing. Another disappointment; we should have passed Cape Guardafui during the day, but owing to a strong head wind, we only approached it as the sun set. I did so want to have a good view of the last of Africa, especially as the cape is said to be most impressive. So I have to content myself by trying to realize that a few miles to the south is the wild Somali country, with lions and savage natives. LESSON 24. EXTRACTS FROM MY DIARY. PART U. Feb. 26th. (Sunday). We are now fairly out into the Arabian Sea. We saw dimly through the haze this morning the outlines of two islands, and that is the last of Africa. The present weather and sea, I am told, is likely to last as far as Ceylon, or further. It is the north-east monsoon, that is, the light, harmless variety. Rather cloudy sky, a little more than warm, but not uncomfortably so, very windy indeed, sea moderate, rolling slight. Am now settling down into routine. Studying Japanese all day, but cannot start any serious work on account of lack of suitable place to do it in. The smoking-room is like a hotel lounge or first-class bar, the cabin is too small and there is no table in it; in the saloon no smoking is allowed, and they are always setting the tables for meals; on deck it is too windy. Feb. 28th. An exceptionally hot day, but not quite so hot as in the Red Sea. Plenty of flying fish to be seen. The flying fish is very small, and skims along at a surprising rate just above the surface of the water; it might be taken for a small white bird. I have not seen any sharks yet, but I am told that the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean are full of them. As a matter of fact one did come the other day and swallowed the log! and carried it away with him. It is nearly 11 p.m. I have just paid a visit to the chief officer in his cabin and have had a most interesting talk with him. He took me out on the bridge to show me the Southern Cross. There it was, rather low down on the horizon, but shining brilliantly. This is the celebrated constellation which, south of the Equator, replaces our northern Great Bear. March 2nd. Hottest day so far, 84 degrees in the shade. Sea this afternoon almost like glass, disturbed only by the flying fish (which shoot along like fast-flying birds), the fin of a shark and, once, a distant whale. Towards evening the blackest of clouds and a heavy shower of rain. To stand en the bridge, as I did, and see the body of the ship down below sliding smoothly forward is a sight and a sensation. Then to see the wonderful sky with floating inky clouds against the green arid orange-tinted sky, to watch the sunset and to note the almost immediate darkness, then to look round and watch the silent and serious officers on duty, in their smart white uniform, to note the chart-table the compass, the wheel, and the general orderly solemnity of the bridge -- I find it very impressive. This evening we passed Minikoi, a coral island some five miles long. We are due to arrive at Colombo day after to-morrow, early. March 3rd. Nothing out of the ordinary to-day, excel that it is perhaps hotter than ever. Correspondence and preparations for to-morrow. We are now about five hours ahead of London time. We put the clock forward about 20 minutes each day. March 4th. Overslept this morning, for once. At 7 o'clock those who sleep on deck came in and woke me with the news that we were waiting for the pilot. Was there anything to be seen? Yes, there were mountains and palm-trees and ships. One has to be for many days without sighting land to appreciate such communications. Yes, a long shore with waving palm-trees, strange buildings, a distant background of mountains; in the foreground the breakwater, many steamers and tiny boats skimming about. Colombo! Into the harbor. Similar to the one at Suez. Breakfast. Visit of medical officer and police. Passports. Then into a boat for the shore. Two hours only allowed. Mr. E. (the passenger who came on board at Suez) promises to take me round. Arrive at landing-stage, and find ourselves at once in the middle of Indian life in all its reality. Two rikshas with chocolate-colored runners between the shafts. My first ride in a riksha. To the post office for stamps. To the photographer's for plates, then to a hotel, where E. meets a friend, who takes us in his car to a place seven off called Mount Lavinia. The seven miles of road is (to my eyes) simply an exhibition of oriental life. Native houses all the way along, mostly stalls and shops. Every variety of costume, every variety of color, every variety of vehicle. Bullock carts with queer cows and oxen, natives with all sorts of methods of carrying. Everything was too utterly novel to be perceived properly, and now, sitting on the deck in the evening, I can hardly recall in my imagination any of the scenes of those two wonderful hours. What do stand out in my memory are: reddish-brown roads clean as hard tennis-courts. Anglo-Indian houses and bungalows, native huts too picturesque to be called dirty, little or nothing mean or squalid, everywhere a background of luxuriant oriental vegetation. Everything exotic in point of temperature, color, shape, and smell. Even in the early morning the spicy smell of Ceylon was evident. Here on land this alternates with the pungent bitter-sweet smell of burning wood or peat (reminding me of the characteristic smell of rural Germany in the Rhine province). Happy, smiling crowds of natives with shiny black hair -- most of the men with tortoise-shell combs and topknots. Gorgeous clothing; brilliant greens, dazzling reds, glaring violets and purples. Gorgeous trees and shrubs with brilliant flowers. An occasional river overhung with the sort of vegetation you see in pictures of tropical forests. Having arrived at Mount Lavinia we stop in the grounds of the hotel there. It is on the coast -- a favorite bathing spot. The water is at present crowded with black children bathing among the rocks. Then back again to Colombo, buy news-papers, take a last look round. Back to the landing-stage. A boat, and a row to the steamer, arriving on board in good time. On the deck are lying piles of melons, bananas, mangoes, and fruits I have never seen nor heard of before. Just at this moment comes a most violent storm, and in the distance we see a waterspout: a black cloud with a black column of water connecting it with the sea! The storm ends as suddenly as it began. Then during lunch, we slowly steam out into the open sea again, and for the rest of the day run down the coast of Ceylon until we see the last lighthouse -- and the last of this all-too-rapid visit to India. March 7th. Not quite so hot to-day: 82 degrees only. Sea very calm but with gentle swell that causes the boat to roll. Sometimes we roll as much as 15 degrees on each side, but it takes 10 seconds between the extremes; a gentle soothing movement. We are now nearing the island of Surnatra; at 4 o'clock in the morning we shall pass its northern extremity, and so into the Straits of Malacca. March 8th I really think to-night is the limit so far as heat is concerned; no air except that provided by the electric fans. This morning at 5.30 I looked out of the porthole and there in the early morning saw the mountains of Sumatra. We were passing the northernmost point, and all day we have been steaming southward again. March 9th During the night I was awakened by the blast of the siren. I couldn't make out where I was or what was happening. There were strange noises and vivid flashing lights. Looked out of porthole and saw the deck covered with running water. Got up and investigated. It was a sudden squall, a high wind thunder, lightning; and rain coming down as I had never seen rain come down before. Those who had been sleeping on deck were surprised by it, and were already soaked before they had time to take shelter. Very exciting and interesting. To-morrow we reach Singapore. LESSON 25. EXTRACTS FROM MY DIARY. PART V. March lOth. This morning at 6 1 saw a stately procession of island, some palm-covered, others mere low-lying swamps, others salmon, cream, and red, crowned with exotic trees. The procession lasted until we reached Singapore. Wharves, steamers, natives in canoes. The pilot steers us in. Arrival of police. Passports. The quay crowded with Malays, Tamils, and Chinese. At 10 I land and go by bus to the town, which (with the exception of a few streets) is practically Chinese. Meet Mr. E. at the Raffles Hotel, where, refreshing ourselves with iced lemon squash, we discuss the East. He tells me that Japan is one of the most delightful countries he has ever lived in. He once spent a long time at a place not far from Odawara. He likes more especially the farmers and peasants, and admires their simple, honest lives. I think I, too, shall like Japan. Then a tour of the town in rikshas during which time it rains heavily. After tea we engage a car and have an hour's run through the country district behind the town. I shall never be able to describe adequately my impressions. I exhausted my stock of descriptive adjectives quite early in the voyage. Try to imagine an hour's run in a gentle rain through tropical scenery and vegetation. Try to imagine a tropical hothouse (as the one at Kew Gardens) spread over the whole country, forests of rubber trees, palms, bananas, trees with vivid purple flowers, hedges of growing bamboo. A cluster of houses -- Chinese, with Chinese children playing near their Chinese mothers. Another cluster of houses -- Malay this time, all built on piles in a swamp. Red soil. Bare rocks of strange and unfamiliar composition, gray, white, black, cream. Then a general view of the whole island, with the sea around it all dotted with islands. But there are too many strange details for the unaccustomed eye to notice; the mind refuses to take them all in. March 11th. Three hours ago we left Singapore, and at this precise moment we are farthest south (three-quarters of a degree from the equator) and are just turning northward for the last stage of the journey. March 12th. This morning we passed a group of Dutch islands 150 miles from Singapore. The swimming tank has been removed, se no more bathing. Every day now should be a trifle cooler. Weather overcast. Calm sea but a swell from the north; consequently the boat is pitching. I suppose we are now about 8 hours in advance of London time. March 13th A lazy day. Was up and about at 6 o'clock and did some Japanese. My progress in this language still seems painfully slow; it requires terrible efforts to learn each new word, word-group, or sentence. I am very careful, however in the matter of pronunciation, and I do my best to learn real Japanese expressions. So I never compose Japanese sentences of my own, but content myself with learning by heart the sentences in my book or sentences which my Japanese friends dictate to me. March 16th. To-morrow morning we shall sight the islands of which Hongkong is the largest and farthest. I am told that Hongkong is the most beautiful place that we shall have visited. March 17th. 3 a.m. Suddenly awakened by siren. Look out of porthole. Light fog. Dim outlines of Chinese junks sailing past. Ship going very slowly. Many passengers are up surveying the mysterious scene. It is cold. A cold fog. 7 a.m. Tea and toast. Look out. Dense fog. The ship drops anchor. Impossible to proceed. Cold and damp. Calm sea. 11 a.m. Still at anchor. We are about 40 miles from Hongkong. Sun shining through fog. It is not exactly certain where the ship is, and there is danger of proceeding until we do know. 2.30 p.m. Continual procession of fishing junks go by. They look weird through the mist. Anchor weighed again, and we proceed slowly and cautiously. Sight the first island, with lighthouse. Now we know where we are. More islands. Larger. Barren and mysterious. China! Islands get larger and shapes more fantastic. Then an immense one with its peaks going up into the clouds. Hongkong itself. We pass the western extremity into the harbour, which is crowded with ships of all sorts: liners, warships, junks. We pass slowly among the shipping. Water shining like silver in the early evening. We cross the narrow strait and moor at the Kowloon dock on the China mainland. Darkness. The town of Victoria, on the island, is a cluster of innumerable lights rising up into the clouds. Police. Passports. Shore. The little settlement of Kowloon, practically all Chinese. A few British soldiers; a few sailors, British and American. Wander round the dark streets and catch glimpses of queer Chinese interiors through shop windows and open doorways. Back to the boat, and so to bed. March 18th. Mountain tops covered with clouds. Breakfast. Go to ferry, and in 15 minutes we go ashore at Victoria. A fine city, far superior to Singapore. Immense buildings. Indian and Chinese policemen. There is a language difficulty; even the Indian police know very little English -- the riksha men apparently none at all. With a fellow passenger, I take the cable car running 1,350 feet up the mountain side. From the summit of the peak we see the panorama of the island, with the town, straits, and the mainland beyond: a grand sight! Then down again. Take photographs of Chinese coolies, who very much object to being photographed; they run away or hide their faces. Good way of getting rid of beggars; when they come and worry you, point the camera at them, and off they go! After a short rest, another excursion on the Kowloon side, chiefly in order to buy chairs. These are wicker, bamboo, and fiber armchairs very comfortable. They make them here, ant most travelers buy them and carry them about on their voyages. I am strongly advised to acquire one, and strongly advised to bargain before buying. So I bargain. Am offered one at six dollars, but get it for five. A chair like this would cost double the amount in Singapore, and about triple in Japan, I am told. Back to the boat with purchases in parcels, and a coolie carrying the chair. March 19th. A very fine morning. Temperature now ideal, neither warm nor cold. Go on shore again for half an hour and assist fellow passengers in the new and interesting game of buying chairs. At 11 o'clock we leave the wharf, and make our way through the straits in the direction of Shanghai. For two hours we have on either side a panorama of hills and mountains, of islands of varying shapes and colors. On the left is the mainland; China, real China, exactly as I had always imagined it, and of which you get impressions in Chinese pictures. Mountains of fantastic shapes and of a misty green-brown, like coarse silk of dull green tinged with plum, or like cobweb material dyed in a sunset and woven by fairies. Foregrounds of low cliffs of white and creamy stone, or else great bare promontories of green-gray rook, like Chinese jade carvings. The land fades away until we see nothing but the dim outlines against the sky. A new stage of the voyage has started. Now, indeed, it seems a long time since I joined the ship at Marseilles. Little by little the original group of passengers has diminished. Some left us at Suez, others at Singapore. At Hongkong we lost others, and now few remain of the original party. Others will leave us at Shanghai. Rather like life itself is a long voyage; as the years pass, our original companions grow fewer. This evening at dinner the captain and officers have gone back to the dark-blue uniform. No more white suits and sun helmets. Cool invigorating breezes from the north. From now onwards, we shall be in waters where Japan is supreme; I have seen the last of British territory. The ship is pitching heavily; up up up and down down down. This is the sort of sea to be expected, I am told, in the Straits of Formosa, where we are now. We are due to arrive at Shanghai to-morrow evening. The waves increase in size, the wind rises until it is blowing a gale; waves are breaking over the main deck, which is running with water. I am invited to take part in a sukiyaki dinner. The Japanese passengers are all assembled down below in the quarters of the crew. On the tables are placed the hibachi with an iron pan on each. Beside them are trays filled with slices of raw meat, cabbage, onions, etc. etc. We pick up the raw stuff with chopsticks, place it in the pans, and, a few minutes after, eat from the pans all hot, while fresh raw material is deposited. Tea is served. Also sake. The air gets hotter and hotter. Coats are removed. One perspires. Pans are re-filled and re-emptied. And all the time the ship moves up up up, and down down down. Then, the sukiyaki at an end, we go upstairs to face the cold wind and the driving rain. Play chess with Dr. G. -- and get beaten. The chief officer comes to visit us. He tells us the weather is very severe. We are only making 4 knots an hour. The movement increases; the ship trembles and shivers and the waves beat against our cabin like thunder. March 2lst. The storm has decreased somewhat, but the rain pours down, and the cold wind sweeps the decks that are now bare and deserted, -- the same decks that only ten days ago were crowded with passengers baking in the sun! We have now passed the Straits of Formosa, and are creeping along the China coast. LESSON 26. EXTRACTS FROM MY DIARY. (CONCLUSION.) March 22nd. A lovely day. Sun shining brilliantly. The sea is no longer blue; it has a green tinge which as the day goes on, becomes more and more yellow, for this is the Yellow Sea, and the color comes from the sediment carried into it by the Yangtse King. Then the procession of islands starts again. Then comes a fleet of Chinese fishing boats, and then another. These strings of gaily painted boats on a lake-like sea, with a background of islands charming sight. More and more islands during the afternoon; it is a perfect archipelago. Strange that all the islands I have seen since Marseilles (with the exception of those about Singapore) should be barren and treeless; just bare rocks and a slight covering of grass on top. March 23rd. Woke up this morning to find that we had passed into the Yangtse River during the night, and that we were slowly moving up the Whangpu River to Sbanghai, twelve miles distant. Frightfully windy and bitterly cold. Then the Nippon Yusen Kaisha wharf. Farewell to several passengers who take their departure. They have now reached the terminus of their long but by no means weary voyage. How can anybody ever call a sea-voyage tedious? Have arranged to spend the day with Dr. G. We land and take rikshas. On the "Bund" the buildings are worthy of any European capital, but as one gets away from it, the Chinese element predominates more and more. After a stroll round the International Settlement we visit the French Settlement, and from there enter the Chinese City itself. This is an ancient city dating back I don't know how many centuries. It is said to be typical of any Chinese town. Miles of narrow streets and alleys, and ditches indescribably filthy and picturesque; shops, workshops, markets, temples. All sorts of Chinese, from wealthy mandarins to the half-savage coolies and beggars. Children, babies, women in trousers, men in skirts rikshas, palanquins, strange-looking cats and dogs, silent and stern Chinese policemen, few or no Europeans -- just our two selves. Some of the alleys are too narrow to admit the light of day. I take a few photos (Shanghai Chinese appear not to mind being photographed). Dr. G. goes to a shop and buys a Chinese game called Mah-Jong (or something like that). He says it is a wonderfully interesting game. We also explore a temple hidden away in a remote corner. Dr. G. does not speak Chinese, but manages to get into communication with the priests by writing Japanese entirely in Chinese characters. Back to the International Settlement for lunch. What a contrast between the Settlement and the native city! Then once again to the Chinese city, this time on foot. We penetrate into the very heart of the city, and lose ourselves in back alleys. I photograph right and left -- nobody minds. Back again to the Settlement. Have Chinese tea in a native place where assemble Chinese of all sorts and descriptions: ferocious-looking persons who might be either beggars or bandits, dignified old gentlemen in silk, fat women with feet like children's, young girls in blue coats and black silk trousers . . . . Back to the boat. I visit the chief officer in his cabin, and relate my adventures. He is shocked to hear that I ventured into the native city. "No Europeans ever go there without an escort. A most dangerous place. You are liable to be attacked, or even taken prisoner and held to ransom. One of the worst places in China. A party of us Japanese once had to fight our way out." Other people tell us the same thing. If I had known, I should not have gone there, but I'm glad I didn't know. Now I do know, I count it as a thrilling adventure. March 24th. This evening we are steaming out of the Yangtse and making for the open sea. Very few Europeans left now -- only Dr. G., a German lady who has just come on board, and a Russian from Viadivostok. March 25th. A bitterly cold day; a piercing wind from the north. The question that occupies our attention to-day is: Shall we or shall we not pass through the Inland Sea? It is still uncertain. We are heading for Moji; if there is a change of getting there before 6 p.m. tomorrow, it is all right, and we shall pass into the Inland Sea; if it is past that time, it will be too dark to pass the narrow strait, and we shall have to go round Kyushu. For the last eight hours the sea has been blue again -- a welcome change after the mud of the Yaugtsa. March 26th. I am sitting in the chief officer's cabin for the last time. To-morrow afternoon we come to the end of our voyage. We are in the Inland Sea; in ideal weather, brilliant sun and a light breeze, we made our entry into Japan this afternoon. This morning shortly after sunrise I awoke, and one of my Japanese cabin-companions said, "Have you ever seen Japan?" I said, "No." "Then look out of the porthole." I did so, and caught my first glimpse of Japan -- one of the many islands off Kyushu. Not the bare islands of China, but the dainty tree-capped islets of the country in which I now find myself. All the morning we kept along the coast. Far away to the north-west, Tsushima Island was visible; close at hand all sizes of islands, from small pine-capped rocky pinnacles to the island of Kyushu itself. In the middle of the afternoon we passed through a group of islands at close quarters and then, in one great bend, we steamed into the straits and saw the town of Moji on the Kyushu coast, and Shimonoseki on the other side. I could then see the details, torii and ishidoro, -- my first close-up view of Japan. High hills on either side, and a swiftly running current in the narrow strait: a grand and impressive sight! Once through the strait the coast falls away on either side, and we glided into that great lagoon in which we now are. All through the night, and to-morrow morning we shall pass through these clusters of islands each one a gem of beauty. For the last time I go to sleep to the rhythm of the engine and of the waves. March 27th I am writing this in my room at the hotel in Kobe, during the first minutes that I find myself alone -- and actually in Japan! To be brief -- Woke up this morning to find that the best part of the Inland Sea was already past. Then very hazy, and after, even hazier. At about 12 we came in sight of land again; at 2 o'clock arrived off Kobe. Medical inspection. Reporters come on board to interview us. Receive letters and telegrams. Then we make fast to the quay and people come on board. Among these are Professor I. from Tokyo, and J. P., an old Belgian friend of mine. The latter guides me through the Customs (for Customs regulations are common to all countries, and must be obeyed), brings me to this hotel, and generally superintends my movements. Then after tea, a walk round the town together. A large part of Kobe is what used to be the International Settlement, and looks much like Singapore, Hongkong or Shanghai -- certainly not typically Japanese. But other parts are different. They are the Japan that we see in pictures, particularly charming and picturesque. Cannot write any more now. Lack of time. In fact, so far as the descriptive diary is concerned, I may have to stop it, or confine it to the bald statement of movements and events without details and particulars. I shall have other things to do than writing diaries. What is certain is that I am in Japan, and I feel that I am going to like it. You who may read this journal may well envy me. LESSON 27. THE HABIT OF ATTENTION. Lord Chesterfield, born in London in 1694, was celebrated as an orator, writer, diplomat, and statesman. It is said of him that his character was selfish, calculating, and contemptuous; he was not naturally generous, and he practiced hypocrisy until it became part of his nature. In spite of his brilliant talents, and of the admirable training he had received, his life on the whole cannot be considered a success. He wished to be known as a protector of literary men, and in this connection arose a famous dispute between him and Dr. Johnson, the author of the first English dictionary. He had given Dr. Johnson some encouragement in this enterprise, but later the great dictionary-maker attacked Lord Chesterfield bitterly for his indifference and lack of interest. His published writings have had but little success; his literary reputation rests on a volume of letters never designed to appear in print. These are the celebrated Letters to his Son; they are brilliantly written -- full of elegant wisdom, of keen wit, of admirable portrait-painting, of refinement, of exquisite observation and reasoning. The following is an extract from one of these letters. In order to make it intelligible, he old-fashioned spelling and, in a few eases, the wording, have been modified. ------------------------------------- A man is fit for neither business nor pleasure who either cannot, or does not, force and direct his attention to the present object, and in some degree banish for that time all other objects from his thoughts. If at a ball, a supper, a party of pleasure, a man were to be solving, in his own mind, a problem of Euclid, he would be a very bad companion, and make a very poor figure in that company; or, if in studying a problem he were to think of dancing, I am inclined to believe that he would make a very poor mathematician. There is time enough for everything, in the course of the day, if you do but one thing at a time; but there is not time enough in the year, if you do two things at a time. De Witt did the whole business of the Dutch Republic, and yet had time left to go to assemblies in the evening, and sup in company. Being asked how he could possibly find time to go through so much business, and yet amuse himself in the evenings as he did, he answered "There was nothing so easy; for that it was only doing one thing at a time, and never putting off anything until to-morrow that could be done to-day." This steady and undissipated attention to one object is a sure mark of superior genius, as hurry, bustle, and agitation are the never-failing symptoms of a weak and frivolous mind. There is no surer sign in the world of a little, weak mind than inattention. Whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well; and nothing can be done well without attention . . . . A man of sense sees, hears, and retains everything that passes where he is.... Mind not only what people say, but how they say it; if you have any sagacity, you may discover more truth by your eyes than by your ears. People can say what they will; but they cannot look just as they will; and they looks frequently reveal what their words are intended to conceal. Observe, therefore, people's looks carefully when they speak, not only to you, but to each other. I have often guessed by people's faces what they were saying, though I could not hear one word they said. The most material knowledge of all, I mean the knowledge of the world, is never to be acquired without great attention; and I know many old people, who, though they have lived long in the world, are but children still as to the knowledge of it, from their levity and inattention. Certain forms which all people comply with, and certain arts which all people aim at, hide in some degree the truth, and give a general exterior resemblance almost to everybody. Attention and sagacity must see through that veil, and discover the natural . . . . If a man use strong protestation or oaths to make you believe a thing which is of itself so likely and probable that the bare saying of it would be sufficient, depend upon it he lies, and is highly interested in making you believe it; or else he would not take so much pains. I know no one thing more offensive to a company than inattention and distraction. It is showing them contempt; and people never forgive contempt . . . . For my own part I would rather be in company with a dead man than with an absent-minded one; for if the dead man gives me no pleasure, at least he shows me no contempt; whereas the pre-occupied man, silently indeed, but very plainly tells me that he does not think me worth his attention. Besides, can an absent-minded man make any observations upon the characters, customs, and manners of the company? No. He may be in the best companies all his lifetime (if they will admit him, which, if I were they, I would not) and never be one jot the wiser. I never will converse with an absent-minded man; one may as well talk to a deaf one. It is, in truth, a practical blunder to address ourselves to a man who we see plainly neither hears, minds, nor understands us. Moreover, I maintain that no man is in any degree fit for either business or conversation who cannot and does not direct and force his attention to the present subject, be that what it may. LESSON 28. SOME INTERESTING QUESTIONS AND THEIR ANSWERS. Some time ago we read about the boyhood of Edison, and his habit of asking questions. We read, too, that when he went to school, the schoolmaster, instead of welcoming his questions, thought they indicated a lack of ability on Edison's part, whereas one of the best and surest signs of intellectual activity on the part of anybody is the habit of asking intelligent questions for the purpose of obtaining enlightenment on problems that perplex us. One of the reasons why question-asking is to be commended and encouraged is because we generally grasp and retain the information that we receive in the form of answers better than the information that is put before us in any other form. Some people tend to consider that to ask questions is either a sign of ignorance or an act of impoliteness. As a matter of fact everything depends on the sort of question we ask; we must distinguish between intelligent questions and those that are futile or merely foolish. Such questions as "How many fish are there in the sea?" or "Is the moon made of cheese?" are, of course, childish and absurd. Again, to question a comparative stranger on personal subjects, such as his age, is certainly a mark of impoliteness. We may also make a distinction between reasonable questioning and excessive questioning. In this lesson we have five examples of what we call rational questions -- questions that it is a pleasure to answer; provided, however, that we are able to answer them. The first two are astronomical, and one is related to the other. Would the earth seem to be up in the sky if we were on the moon? The answer to this question is "Yes," difficult though it seems at first to understand how this can be so. The earth is a ball, or sphere, as we know, and anyone looking out from the surface of that ball gets the notion, of course, that he is in the center of all things, and that the heavenly bodies are hung in the sky on all sides of him. We see things up in the sky, and not down in the sky, because the earth interferes with our view. If the earth were transparent, we should see the sun, the moon, and the stars down in the sky, even right underneath our feet, just as we see them up in the sky. This teaches us that up and down have no real significance in themselves, but merely refer to our point of view. The earth, seen from the moon, would appear far larger than the moon does to us, and correspondingly bright. The greatest difference would he, perhaps, that an observer on the moon would so often find the details of the earth hidden by clouds. As our satellite has no atmosphere, or almost none, her face is never clouded to our view; not even to the very slight extent that Mars sometimes is. But any spectators of the earth living on Mars or the moon would wonder what it was like to live on a world so often covered with thick clouds as ours is. Will the moon ever full into the earth? This is a good instance of those many great questions in astronomy which we can answer in a way and up to a point, but not yet with certainty. The reason is that the answer such questions depends upon the various forces that function in the world. If we were certain that we knew all these forces, then we could be certain as to what would happen, for we know the laws of their working, and these laws are certain and unchangeable. But, as a matter of fact, we usually know only some of the forces that are at work, and so we must be careful, because we never know whether there may not be others which counteract them. However, judging by the forces that we do know, we are bound to state that some day the moon will presumably return to the earth, from which it was expelled so many millions of years ago. This belief is based on the study of the effects of tides, for each body of the solar system, by the force of attraction, may produce tides on the surface of each of the others. The question has been much studied by astronomers, and especially by Sir George Darwin, a son of Charles Darwin, who taught us the history of plants, animals, and man. We do not yet know all there is to know about the history of the moon, however, though we are practically certain that at the present time the moon is slowly traveling farther away from the earth instead of getting any nearer. But, so far as we can judge, in time it is bound to come back again. The next two questions are connected with biology, or the science of life. How does a flower grow? All living things grow at some period or other in their lives, and the secret of growth is part of the secret of life itself, which men have not yet found out; so it is only possible to answer this question in part. We can say what are the conditions without which the flower is unable to grow. It must have light, water, air, and certain salts containing certain elements, dissolved in the water which is sucked up by the roots. If these conditions are granted, the plant will obtain for itself the materials needed for building itself up, and the energy employed in doing so. Not much could be said beyond this. All we know is that there is something in the life of the rose plant determining that the flowers it bears must be roses and not lilies or chrysanthemums. Why do cherries and peaches have stones? Perhaps we should have done better to ask: Why do stones have cherries and peaches? These things are beautifully made for a great purpose, which is to reproduce the race of plants to which they belong. The all-important and significant part of the cherry or peach is not the part we eat, but the kernel inside the stone. It is this that the new plant will grow from, and the rest of the fruit exists in order to give the kernel, or seed, a fair chance. First, there is the hard part of the stone, which protects the living seed inside it from any injury, but which is so made that it can quite easily be split open when the kernel inside it begins to grow. Then there is the fruity part, for the sake of which we prize the cherry or the peach. Now, birds prize this just as much as we do, and that is why it exists. Although our liking for the fruit does the plant no good, the liking of the birds for it is just what it requires. The bird takes the cherry for the sake of the fruity part, and carries it away, and then probably drops the stone in some place where it may be possible for the seed to grow. Lastly, the skin of the cherry or peach largely succeeds in protecting the fruit from insects. So now we see that there is a good reason why peaches and cherries should have stones. Other fruits, we know, have no stones, but they have something else, pips or seeds, instead. In all living things we find some sort of mechanism that tends to ensure diffusion and the perpetuation of its vital principle, and fruit is one of these mechanisms. The last of these queries involves recourse to physics, the science treating of the properties of matter and energy. Why is white clothing worn in summer and black clothing in winter? In the ordinary weather of the two seasons we wish to keep cool in summer and warm in winter, and so, as a rule, we wear cool clothing, as we call it, in summer, and warm in winter. We call clothes warm or cool according to whether they let the heat escape with ease or with difficulty from our bodies. This depends partly on the weight of the clothing, partly on its material, and partly on its texture. But there is another way in which clothing may affect our temperature, quite apart from the question of how good or bad a conductor of heat it is. Exactly the same clothes will be cooler when white than when we have them dyed black. If we are to explain this, we must know what causes blackness and whiteness. A thing illuminated by white light is white because it returns to our eyes the whole, or nearly the whole, of the light that falls upon it. To a great extent it treats the rays of radiant heat that go with the light, and are really part of it, in the same way. But as it returns these rays, it is little affected by them. Now, a black thing absorbs the light that falls upon it. Black is not a color, but the absence of any color, and a black thing is black because it does not send back from its surface the light that falls upon it. On the contrary, it absorbs this light, and also a great deal of the heat that comes with it. The light that is absorbed disappears, but nothing is ever lost, and we must ask what becomes of it. The answer is that it is transformed into heat -- it is used up in warming the black coat that absorbs it. Thus in two ways the black thing is heated, and that is why we find it pleasanter for winter wear, while in summer we choose what will send back the heat and light. LESSON 29. ANOTHER LETTER FROM KARUIZAWA. Karuizawa, August 15th, 1927. My dear Cousin, Please excuse me for not writing to you before, and answering your long letter giving me all the hews from Tokyo. I am a bad correspondent, as you know, and always delay writing. As you may well imagine, Karuizawa is a very different place now from what it was when I came up here three months ago. It is full of people; the hotels are full and all the houses occupied. The number of foreigners is very large -- one sometimes gets the impression that Karuizawa is a summer health resort somewhere in America. There is no lack of amusements here. All day long people are playing tennis, and there is always a large crowd watching the matches in the public tennis-courts. Then there is swimming in the new pool near Hanare; there is golf, horse-riding, cycling, mountain-climbing, and "hiking" (as the Americans say). Every week there is a concert in the auditorium (there is another American word) organized by the Summer Residents' Association. There is no lack of things to read here, as there are six bookshops in the village; I am accumulating quite a library. My taste for poetry is growing, but I must confess that I can't admire or understand modern poetry -- it seems to have neither rhyme nor rhythm in it. I tell you, there is plenty to do in Karuizawa, and that is one of the reasons why I have kept you waiting for this letter. It is certainly very warm, especially in the daytime, but it is cool in the evening and during the night. Only a few evenings ago we had to light a fire in the stove. You must be suffering very much from the heat down there in Tokyo, and envying our existence in this cool, peaceful, and altogether pleasant spot. When are you coming up to see us again? You really must arrange to spend another weekend here -- we had such a good time when you were here last. You will find me much stronger and better in every way than when you were here, but I have not yet succeeded in getting rid of my cough; I shall be glad when it has left me, for every time I cough I get a bad pain in the chest. The doctor recommends me to drink plenty of milk. He says that milk is the most wholesome food there is. The milk here is excellent, we gets it straight from the dairy; it is full of cream, and most delicious. Although there are very few mosquitoes in Karuizawa, there are other insects that are almost as bad; there is a sort of small fly called the buyo which stings you on the ankles and the lower part of your legs. And yesterday I was stung on the chin by a sort of wasp called an abu. The sting was rather painful, and my chin is still swollen. However, you must not think of me as being an invalid. I am getting stronger and stronger and the color is coming back into my cheeks. When it is not raining, I go for a walk or a bicycle ride every day. That reminds me, a few days ago I had a little accident. I was riding my bicycle along a rather narrow road and suddenly a man on a motorcycle came flying along at full speed; in order to avoid him I got too far to the left, ran into a ditch and fell off. Fortunately the ditch was a dry one, or I should have got into a terrible mess. As it was, I grazed my wrist and hurt my toe, which struck against a piece of rock that was lying there. The fall did a little damage to my bicycle too; when I began to ride again, I found the left pedal was rather bent, but this did not prevent me from getting home. The man on the motorcycle stopped to see whether I had hurt myself, which was very kind of him. He said he was sorry that he had been the cause of the accident, but I told him that the whole thing was my fault, and that the damage to the bicycle was slight. At midday or thereabouts Main Street presents a very lively appearance, for here the residents assemble for their daily chat and exchange of local gossip, or for a stroll round the village to get an appetite. We call this the daily parade. The shops are generally crowded with customers, and the shopkeepers seem to be doing a good trade. There has been a considerable amount of grumbling about the expense of living, but the police authorities in conjunction with the Summer Residents' Association, are doing all they can to ensure reasonable prices for goods and reasonable charges for services. I believe they have drawn up a set of regulations on the subject. The policemen here are remarkably helpful and efficient. They seem to know everybody and every now and then a sympathetic constable or sergeant will come to the house and interview you in order to get the latest particulars concerning visitors or your future movements. The postal service, too, is efficient, and seems to work on a systematic plan. A smiling and courteous postman comes round every now and then for an interview in which he checks up the latest arrivals and departures. About a fortnight ago the University Extension Summer School came to an end. It is an official affair under the patronage of the Department of Education, I believe, and is held yearly. The lecture hall and dormitories are situated on a strip of land to the south of the railway, about a mile and a half away. There were several lecturers from Tokyo. Some of the lectures were in English. I attended those which dealt with the reform of English teaching in the Japanese schools. Of course many of the points were highly technical, but the lectures were quite easy to follow and were not at all tedious. The lecturer, who made an extensive use of diagrams, contrasted the old methods of teaching with the new, and showed the nature of the many resources and teaching devices available for those who teach English efficiently on modern lines. There is one thing that I must tell you about, and that is our famous garden railway. Harry had brought his little toy train with him, that works with a clockwork engine and runs on an oval of metal rails. Well, one day I got the idea that we might build a model railway in the garden. So I went to the carpenters' and got them to make about a dozen lengths of railway track in wood. Then we fitted these together and utilized the curved rails that go with Harry's train, so as to make the railway go round corners. It was the funniest sight you can imagine to see the little train flying along at full speed from one end to other (the track is about 80 feet long). Then we made an artificial hill with a tunnel through it, and after that we made a sort of valley for the railway to cross on a bridge. I have just finished making a model railway station for the terminus of the line. I tell you, we're having great fun with it. What Harry likes is to stand one or two of the carriages on the line and then start the engine with the other carriages from the end, and so bring about a collision, in which the whole lot generally run off the line. What we are going to do next is to make mountain scenery for the train to run through; we are collecting as many large rocks as we can, and are getting some gardening tools to dig with. We are thinking of getting a real steam train. I expect you will find all this rather childish, and think that it is rather absurd for anybody of my age to play with such toys. But, do you know, many grown-up people and quite elderly persons enjoy building model railways and running steam trains on them. I saw in a London illustrated paper the other day a photograph of a beautiful model railway in a garden, and a middle-aged man superintending the running of a passenger train on the miniature line. Well, I must not weary you with these trivial details of our quiet and uneventful life up here in the hills, but I have no thrilling adventures to relate (unless my falling off a bicycle or witnessing a collision on the toy railway are counted worthy of being considered as thrilling or adventurous). With greetings to you all, Your affectionate cousin, John. LESSON 30. THE ART OF THINKING. A goodly number of proverbs relate to thinking, and advise us to think rather than to speak. Among these are: Say nothing, but think the more, The less people think, the more they talk, Speaking without thinking is shooting without aiming. For what reason is it that we are taught to admire great thinkers and encouraged to think ourselves? In what consists the merit of thought? It is because the human race is distinguished from the animal races chiefly by the fact that man is by nature a thinker; the more we think, the further removed we are from animals, who act more from instinct than from thought. Indeed, there are many who say that animals are incapable of thinking. We may say that education is little other than a training of our powers of thinking. In former lessons we have read of great thinkers -- Bacon, Newton, Galileo, to mention a few among many. In these lessons we have noted how much we are indebted to those who have learnt to think, to think intensively and accurately, to find the real facts and to draw valid conclusions from them. What is thinking? The word think, like so many other words, has several meanings. The word is used popularly in the sense of "to have an opinion." This opinion may be our own or it may be merely the echo of somebody else's opinion. One of the definitions of the verb "to think" as given in the dictionary is "to exercise the mind otherwise than by the passive reception of another's ideas," and indeed the word is best used to mean real thinking: putting two and two together, and really arguing from one thing to another, and trying to find the truth. Thinking may be called "the machinery of association." To accept as true certain thoughts because they happen to be popular, or modern, or because some person with a great name has told us that they are true, is not real thinking at all. It is precisely against this bad habit of looking to authority that Roger Bacon wanted us over 500 years ago, and Aristotle long before that. The most active form of thinking is found when we are discussing or arguing with others. A discussion consists in comparing our views or thoughts with those of others in order to see in what degree or measure our thoughts agree or disagree. By discussion we may modify our views or the views held by others. An argument is more in the nature of a battle, with thoughts used as weapons. When we argue, we are less interested in finding the truth than in winning our case and in getting the better of our opponent. We may be arguing with someone who is interested to prove the opposite of our view. Just as the points which favor us press up into our minds, so the points which favour his case press up into his. But really we do not listen to his arguments, and he does not listen to ours, and neither of us convinces the other. This the sort of thing that happens in politics and most of the things men quarrel about. There is a certain amount of deliberate deception, but the great key to the differences of opinion which divide even intelligent men is self-deception, depending upon the way in which our processes of association are spoiled by our feelings and our interests. This danger comes into everything, even into the discovery of truth. There are many reasons why it enters there also. It is not the discovery of truth, but trying to persuade people that we have discovered truth, that often leads to money or glory. Quite apart from that, when a man has said a thing, he likes to prove himself right and that, of course, is not quite the same as liking to find the truth. Then there are motives like jealousy, or motives like trying to prove that something which is believed by our church or our class or the particular school to which we belong is right. All this only causes disaster. It means that a man, instead of looking at all the facts, looks only at some of them; it means that he sees the importance of facts that suit his case, and cannot see the importance of those which do not suit his case, and so he goes wrong. But everywhere, in all ages, there are a few men who are real lovers of truth. They would rather give up their beliefs than believe what they feel to be untrue; they would rather believe the truth -- and he despised and hated -- than persuade men of something that is not true -- and be honored. Darwin began with a theory which came into his head, and then he spent twenty years thinking over it. People say that he spent twenty years trying to prove it, but that is simply not the case. If we study Darwin's .mind, and the lines on which he worked, we shall agree that it is nearer the truth to say that he spent twenty years trying to disprove his theory. Indeed, he was trying to prove or disprove nothing, but simply to find the truth. The success of the successful lawyer is, of course, entirely different. His business is to win his case. He therefore lays all the emphasis on the facts which favor it, and purposely keeps in the background the facts which do not. He gets the verdict of the jury, but that is not the method to follow if we wish to gain the verdict of no jury, not even of all mankind, but the verdict of Nature herself. So it is in the realms of politics and journalism. The chief preoccupation of the politician or the journalist is to win; to win regardless of considerations of right or wrong, of truth or falsity. In controversy, too, we see all too often the consequences of the impulse to win, to gain, to conquer, to vanquish. For the gratification of our sense of pride, for the maintenance of our "face," for the gaining of applause, we may think and reason, we may argue and debate, attacking our rivals, defending ourselves against and resisting those who oppose us. We may perform the most astonishing feats of thought and reasoning just as the fencer or wrestler hurls himself on his antagonist and overpowers him by sheer weight and dexterity, or, with suppleness, ingenuity and cunning twists, defends himself from the attack or the grip of his opponent. And to what end do we thus fight, with thought and reasoning as our weapons? Is it that, inspired by idealism and altruism, we may prevail in the struggle between truth and untruth? Or is it that we may thwart and defeat those who stand in our way? Are our efforts creative and constructive or are we instinctively obeying the impulse to vanquish those whom we deem to be our enemies, oblivious of the dictates of reason? That is the question. Thinking is to a large extent associated with memory, for when we think we are putting facts into combination with facts -- we are "putting two and two together," as the saying is. One of the best examples we have of thinking associated with memory is the work of Charles Darwin. When he looked at yellow primrose, he was able to recall in connection with that primrose a thousand facts of likeness and contrast which in some way or other relate the primrose to other things. The success which in some measure always attends these people, so that, if their brain are of a high order, they become the great thinkers of the world, like Newton or Darwin or Huxley, depends absolutely upon the quality of the interest which drives them. We must have interest in order to make us think, or associate ideas, but we must have the right kind of interest if we are to think rightly. A thinker should be interested only in seeking the truth. We can see, if we study the work of such a man as Darwin, exactly the way in which this interest in truth, and in truth only, keeps a thinker right. He is afraid of only one thing, and that is of going wrong. If his object were to prove anything in particular, he would be more interested in one set of facts than in another, but, as it is, he is equally interested in all facts because all facts lead equally to the truth. They do not all lead equally to his theory, perhaps, but that does not really matter -- it is so much the worse for his theory, and so much the better for truth, towards which he is striving. We may now ask ourselves the question: "May we, by striving, become good thinkers? This depends largely upon the nature of our interest. It is certainly possible for us to foster interest in our own minds and in the minds of other people, and there are few more useful tasks than that of the people who about trying to open other people's eyes, as we say, so that they shall see the interest of things and thereby start thinking about them. There are false or doubtful kinds of interest, as well as good ones. A man may be interested simply in making money, and the machinery of association in his mind will work, in consequence, with astonishing skill and rapidity; or a boy may be interested only in passing an examination, and so his machinery of association works hard for a time at something or other, and after the examination, he seldom or never thinks of it again. The blame is not his, but that of the system that makes a victim of him. Worst of all, perhaps, in its results, is the kind of interest which sets men studying things only in order to defeat someone else, or to prove that they are right, or to make a success for the party or the class or the church to which they belong against some other party or class or church. This kind of interest is extremely powerful and very general, and, according to the universal laws of the mind, it produces its due result. Unfortunately, interest of this kind and interest in money are the driving power of most of the thinking that is done in the world. Let us, rather, resolve to found our thoughts on the sort of interest which leads toward the discovery of truth, for there can be no higher ideal. The English translation of a certain Latin proverb runs, "Great is truth, and it shall prevail," or to put it more briefly: "Truth will conquer." And for truth to prevail we require thinkers, real thinkers, unprejudiced thinkers, thinkers who are able to find and remember facts, and to draw valid conclusions from them. LESSON 31. PROVERBS THAT GUIDE US IN OUR BEHAVIOUR. PART I. It cannot be denied that the consideration and comparison of proverbs constitutes a valuable mental discipline, besides contributing in no small measure to the formation of character. We find proverbs appropriate for nearly all the ordinary circumstances of life and the situations in which we find ourselves. It is rare that in moments of doubt and perplexity we do not find some expression of popular wisdom aiding us in coming to a decision. In a recent lesson we examined a number of proverbs having a practical application to people in business or engaged in dealings with others. We shall now pass in review proverbs having a wider application, proverbs which may serve to guide us in our plan of life, in our behaviour, conduct, and general social activities. The first ten in this present collection tell us that we should avoid haste, and deliberate rather than act in a hurry. The first four particularly warn us of the dangers of haste: More haste less speed. This one of the proverbs (and there are many) which produce their effect by means of what called "paradox," i.e. a seemingly absurd though perhaps really well-founded statement, something that seems to be self-contradictory. Most of us assume "haste" and "speed" to mean the same thing. But upon reflection we note that while "speed" means simply "rapidity of movement," "quickness," etc., the term "haste" implies "urgency of movement," "hurry," "speed without deliberation". In considering this proverb we come to realize how important sometimes are the distinctions conveyed by words which at first sight seem to have the same meaning. Hasty work sometimes means that we shall have to do the work all over again, and in the end this means that our hastiness results in slowness. Dress slowly when you are in a hurry. conveys the same idea, for the noun haste and the adjective hurry have essentially the same meaning. Slow but sure, or Slowly but surely emphasizes the same point. Let us note here that according to modern usage the adverb surely has a meaning differing considerably from the older meaning; the older meaning (which still survives in modern American English) is equivalent to "without fail," "with certainty"; the modern meaning is exceedingly difficult to analyze. Good and quickly seldom meet. This is a characteristic example of the language of proverbs. It is a condensed expression of "A thing that is done quickly is rarely good." The idea of the avoidance of haste is closely associated with the idea of deliberation, of time devoted to careful thought. The word deliberation itself implies avoidance of hastiness, careful consideration, etc. The following are the proverbs having regard to deliberation: Deliberation is not delay (a valuable distinction), Look before you leap (leap is an old word; the verb to spring is more modern but the verb in general use to-day is to jump), Second thoughts are best, Steep over it (here the word over is used in the same sense as when we say "think over it" or "think it over."), Marry in haste and repent at leisure (in modern and fully expressed wording: "If you marry in hurry, you will repent of your action then you have the leisure time that will give you the opportunity of thinking over your action."). Postponed is not abandoned (if you postpone doing something, it does not necessarily mean that you have abandoned, or given up the idea of doing it.) From the idea of deliberation we come to the idea of avoiding rashness, or hasty and unconsidered judgment: It is difficult to the strong not to be rash (strong people have such confidence in their strength that it is difficult for them to avoid being rash), A short cut is often a wrong cut. The term "a short cut" generally applies to the case in which we try to shorten our journey by taking a road that seems to be more direct -- a road that seems to "cut off a corner," but which often proves to take more time than the longer but better known road. Better go back than go wrong. (The effectiveness of this proverb depends on the apt combination of the two expressions "go back" meaning "return," and "go wrong" meaning "make a mistake.") But although we should deliberate and avoid rashness, according to the popular wisdom expressed in proverbs, we should not procrastinate, or unduly delay by reason of idleness or indecision. Never put off till to-morrow what can be done to-day. This reminds us that some joker has invented, in imitation of this one, a so-called proverb which reads, "Never do to-day what you can get somebody else to do to-morrow." The alteration and re-wording of proverbs, by the way, is one of the features of modern English humor. Delays are dangerous, There is no time like the present, One to-day is worth two to-morrows. In this example we see how in English a noun can be made of any word, and take the plural inflexion. In: Be always in time; too late is a crime, we have another example; too late is treated as the subject of the sentence. This is also an example of a rhyming proverb. He who hesitated is lost, When God says "to-day," the devil says "to-morrow," Time and tide wait for no man. In present-day English the word tide refers to the daily and monthly movement of the sea according to the attraction of the moon, but in old English the words time and tide had the same meaning. Any time is no time (what can be done at any time we generally postpone indefinitely, so that in the end it is often never done at all). The most popular of all proverbs referring to the value of doing things at the earliest moment is: The early bird catches (or catcheth) the worm, meaning that the bird who comes first is the one who sees and gets the worm for his breakfast. But it has been pointed out by satirical humorists that if the worm had not got up so early, he would not have been caught! The idea of avoiding haste and rashness, and of practicing deliberation brings us to the idea of patience, a virtue in which Western peoples have much to learn from the people of the East: Genius is patience. When we consider the lives of such great men as Newton, Edison, Bacon or Darwin, we realize how true it is that the first quality of a genius is his patience. We must be ready to be patient at all times: What is the use of patience if we cannot find it when we want it? Time cures more than the doctor is a proverb favouring patience. The idea of patience and perseverance are not far apart, for those who wish to persevere must be prepared to be patient. Step by step one goes far, Little by little the bird builds its nest, Word by word the book is made. In connection with such proverbs we note those that speak of the importance of good beginnings: Good beginnings make good endings, Well began is half done, A word begun is half done, A good beginning is half the battle. This last proverb is so popular that the expression "half the battle" has come to have the general meaning of "the main thing, the chief thing, the important part of the work," and we no longer think of actual battles or wars when we use it. It is the first step that counts (or is troublesome). Train a tree when it is young is a proverb that shows not only the virtue of beginnings, but applies specially to the fundamental value of early habit-forming. The last three proverbs under this heading are in the nature of encouragement to those who are likely to be discouraged by the immensity of the task that lies before them: Everything must have beginning, A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step, Rome was not built in a day. This last is a very popular proverb in England. This reminds us of a joke based on the fact that the word day may have two meanings. It may mean twenty-four hours, or it may mean that part of the twenty-four hours when we have daylight. A schoolmaster once asked, "When was Rome built?" A pupil answered, "In the night." "What do you mean?" asked the schoolmaster; "I have never heard that Rome was built during the night." "Well," answered the pupil, "everybody knows that Rome was not built in a day!" LESSON 32. PROVERBS THAT GUIDE US IN OUR BEHAVIOUR. (CONCLUSION.) The last proverb quoted - "Rome was not built in a day" -- brings us to those which give us courage in our undertakings; they are proverbs of encouragement. May they encourage students who are working hard and striving to pass their examinations! You never know what you can do till you try! That is a wonderful proverb, and true. Here is another one: What man has done, man can do! Men in poor and unfavorable circumstances have done great things exceeding all expectations. You, too, are a man, a human being. Is there, then, any reason why you also should not do great things exceeding all expectations? Four closely allied proverbs follow, relating to initiative and personal effort: Better to be done than wish it had been done. In other words, it is better to do a thing than to say "I wish it were done!" or "What a pity that it isn't done!" The next four examples encourage us to fight against the spirit expressed in Japanese by Shikata [Sikata] ga nai." They are: Where there's a will there's a way, Either I will find a way or make one, To believe a business impossible is the way to make it so (if you want to make a thing impossible to do, believe that it is impossible to do it), Two things a man should be angry at -- what he can help and what he can't. This is rather paradoxical, or is expressed rather paradoxically. It means: if something had happens for which you can find no remedy, be angry; be angry, too, if something bad happens for which you can find a remedy; be angry, and in your anger, find the remedy! This is probably one of the finest and most striking proverbs ever imagined. Others may help us, but let us rely on our own powers, on our initiative and energy -- that is the message of the following: Birds ready cooked do not fly into our mouths. Life is not an easy thing. If we want a good thing (such as a ready-cooked bird), we must not wait for it to come to us; we must strive and work, we must use our efforts; only by so doing may we expect the good things and the success that we so ardently desire. Put your own shoulder to the wheel is an allusion to a popular series of fables in which it is said that a man's cart got stuck in the mud. The man called upon various people to help him, but did not attempt by his own efforts to lift the wheels out of the mud. He finally called upon the gods to help him and Jupiter, the king of the gods, answered his prayer by saying, "Put your own shoulder to the wheel!" This is precisely the moral of the proverb: God helps those who help themselves. We must rely chiefly on our own efforts: Fly with your own wings, If you want a thing done, do it yourself. While some proverbs regard the advantage of wealth as being an illusion, others emphasize the helplessness and misery of those who lack the wherewithal to procure necessities or quasi-necessities, to gratify their desires or realize their ambitions. The following allude to the vanity of riches and the disadvantage of fortune: -- A great fortune is a great slavery, Great fortune brings with it great misfortune, Little wealth, little sorrow, A good name is better than riches, For every rich man content there are a hundred not, Health is better than wealth. The following, however, speak of the benefits of an ample supply of worldly belongings: -- A light purse makes a heavy heart, A man without money is a bow without an arrow. It is not the longest sword but the longest purse that conquers, Knowledge makes one laugh, but wealth makes one dance, Love does much but money does more, Poverty is no sin but twice as bad. The other proverbs allude to the nature of poverty: Poverty is no crime and no credit, Poverty is not a shame, but being ashamed of it is. A considerable number of proverbs have as their theme the consequence of our conduct; they point to the rewards of our wise or right behavior and to the punishments which we have to endure as a result of our unwise or wrong behavior. According to numerous proverbs the righteous flourish and the wicked do not prosper. Virtue is its own reward, Every sin brings its own punishment with it, A good conscience is a soft pillow, meaning that if our conscience is clear, we sleep for a soft pillow or a soft bed sleep. As you make your bed, so you must lie on it, Which reminds us of the rhyming proverb: As a man lives, so shall he die; As a tree falls, so shall it lie. These suggest: Every one is the maker of his own fate, Every man is the son of his own works. Let us beware of anger, revenge, and pride, for Anger punishes itself, Revenge never repairs an injury, Pride must have a fall, this last having two other alternative renderings: Pride will have a fall, and Pride goeth before a fall, goeth being the ancient form of goes. Cheating is a worthless procedure, for Cheats never prosper. Not is avarice or greed profitable, for a proverb says: Grasp all, lose all. What is the result of laziness? The proverbial answer is: Blame is the lazy man's wages. Shall we be afraid of adversity or shall we be fearless and confident in times of had fortune or in times of convict or emergency? Such circumstance may put us to the test; by them we shall see whether we are weak or strong: Storms make oaks take deeper root, for the oak tree, with its deep roots, massive trunk, and tough wood, stands as the symbol of strength and solidity. Shall we be merciful towards the wicked, tolerate those who do wrong, and generally acquiesce in their guilt? He that spares the bad injures the good, Spare the rod and spoil the child. And do we judge the action or the intention? Man punishes the action, but God the intention. But on the other hand, by gentleness and tact we may prevail over the hard-hearted, for Soft words win hard hearts. _ What is the reward of those who act without depending upon others? They obtain the favor of heaven, for God helps those who help themselves. LESSON 33. THE MUSEUM AND LIBRARY AT ALEXANDRlA. PART T. If in future years it should be asked, "Who was the most original and constructive thinker of the first part of the twentieth century?" the answer would probably be: "H. G. Wells." Less systematic and less philosophical than Herbert Spencer of the generation before, less satirical than Bernard Shaw and Anatole France, less philosophical than Bertrand Russell, his contemporaries, Wells, in his varied writings, formulates a practical philosophy appropriate to his age, and perhaps to future ages. Writer of novels based on scientific and social problems, of philosophical essays based on actual events and experiences, of world histories based on critical analysis, Wells, with his keen reasoning and liberal outlook is one of the outstanding figures in the world of modern novelists, philosophers, and historians. He was born in 1866. His early life was one of obscurity. He studied science at London University and became a schoolmaster. At the age of 22 he began to write for English reviews. Then he gave his time chiefly to the writing of romances in which he used the newest scientific and technical discoveries to advance his views on politics and social science. As a prophet he showed remarkable acuteness and constructive ability. As a novelist he took a very high place. He proved his talent for drawing character and inventive imagination. Later he turned his attention to history. He looked at the world as none had looked at it before. He saw the world as a whole, and reviewed it from its obscure beginnings, up to the present day. In 1920 he completed his encyclopedic Outline of History, and followed this up with his Short History of the World. From these last mentioned works is quoted the following account of the first university that the world has probably ever known. In it the author describes the scientific and scholarly activities of an age that is so long past that it has almost been forgotten; he shows us under what disadvantages the scientists and scholars of that age labored. He shows us more especially how soon and how easily science may degenerate into futility, and scholarship into pedantry. Wells, the passionate advocate of clear thinking, and the determined enemy of what is called "obscurantism" (opposition to inquiry, enlightenment, and reform), pleads in favor of a rational survey of things as they have been in the past, as they are in the present, and as they may be in the future. Wells is the enemy of ignorance, of prejudice, of things that are futile, of things that are an obstacle to that progress that will make us happier and better men. His writings are marked by clearness, by vivid and dramatic imagination. He treats history not as a dry, dull subject but as a romance of living interest. ------------------------------------------ For many centuries Athens retained her prestige as a center of art and culture; her schools went on indeed to 529 A.D., that is to say for nearly a thousand years; but the leadership in the intellectual activity of the world passed presently across the Mediterranean to Alexandria, the new trading city that Alexander had founded. Here the Macedonian general Ptolemy had become Pharaoh, with a court that spoke Greek. He had become an intimate of Alexander before he became King, and was deeply saturated with the ideas of Aristotle. He set himself, with great energy and capacity, to organize knowledge and investigation. He also wrote a history of Alexander's campaigns which, unfortunately, is lost to the world. He set up in Alexandria a Museum, which was in effect the first university in the world. It was essentially a college of learned men engaged chiefly in research and record, but also to a certain extent in teaching. At the outset, and for two or three generations, the Museum at Alexandria presented such a scientific constellation as even Athens at its best could not rival. Particularly sound and good was the mathematical work. The names of Euclid, familiar to every schoolboy, Eratosthenes, who measured the size of the earth and came within fifty miles of its true diameter. Apollonius, who wrote on conic sections, stand out. Hipparchus made the first attempt to catalogue and map the stars with a view to checking any changes that might be occurring in the heavens. Hero devised the first steam engine. Archimedes came to Alexandria to study, and remained a frequent correspondent of the Museum. The medical school of Alexandria was equally famous. Herophilus, the greatest of the Alexandrian anatomists, is said to have conducted vivisections upon condemned criminals. Other teachers, in opposition to Herophilus, condemned the study of anatomy and developed the science of drugs. But this scientific blaze at Alexandria did not endure for more than a century. The organization of the Museum was not planned to ensure its mental continuity. It was a "royal" college; its professors and fellows (as we may call them) were appointed and paid by Pharaoh. The republican character of the private corporations called the schools or academics at Athens was far more stable and independent. Royal patronage was all very well so long as Pharaoh was Ptolemy I, or Ptolemy U, but the long tradition of Egyptian priestcraft presently swallowed up the Ptolemies -- and destroyed the Aristotelian mentality of the Museum altogether. The Museum had not existed for a hundred years before its scientific energy was extinct. Side by side with the Museum, Ptolemy I created a more enduring monument to himself in the great library. This was a combination of state library and state publishing house upon a scale hitherto unheard of. It was to be altogether encyclopedic. If any stranger brought an unknown book to Egypt, he had to have it copied for the collection, and a considerable staff of copyists was engaged continually in making duplicates of all the more popular and necessary works. The library, like a university press, had an outward trade. It was a book-selling affair. Under Callimachus, the head of the library during the time of Ptolemy U and V, the arrangement and cataloguing of the accumulations was systematically undertaken. In those days, it must be remembered, books were not in pages, but rolled like the music-rolls of the modem Piano-player, and in order to refer to any particular passage, a reader had to roll back or roll forward very tediously, a process which wore out books and reader together. One thinks at once of a simple and obvious little device by which such a roll could have been quickly wound to and fro for reference, but nothing of the sort seems to have been used. Every time a roll was read it was handled by so many perspiring hands. It was to minimize the waste of time and trouble that Callimachus broke up long works, such as the History of Herodotus, into "books" or volumes, as we should call them, each upon a separate roll. The library of Alexandria drew a far vaster crowd of students than the teachers of the Museum. The lodging and catering for these visitors from all parts of the world became a considerable business interest for the Alexandrian population. LESSON 34. THE MUSEUM AND LIBRARY AT ALEXANDRIA. (CONCLUSION). It is curious to note how slowly the mechanism of the intellectual life improves. Contrast the ordinary library facilities of a middle-class English home, such as the present writer is now working in, with the inconveniences and deficiencies of the equipment of an Alexandrian writer, and one realizes the enormous waste of time, physical exertion, and attention that went on through all the centuries during which that library flourished. Before the present writer lie half a dozen books, and there are good indexes to three of them. He can pick up any one of these six books, refer quickly to a statement, verify a quotation, and go on writing. Contrast with that the tedious unfolding of a rolled manuscript. Close at hand are two encyclopedias, a dictionary, an atlas of the world, a biographical dictionary, and other books of reference. They have no marginal indexes, it is true; but that perhaps is asking for too much at present. There were no such resources in the world in 300 B. C. Alexandria had still to produce the first grammar and the first dictionary. This present book is being written in manuscript; it is then taken by a typist and typewritten very accurately. It can then, with the utmost convenience, be read over, corrected amply, rearranged freely, retyped, and recorrected. The Alexandrian author had to dictate or recopy every word he wrote. Before he could turn back to what he had written previously, he had to dry his last words by waving them in the air or pouring sand over them; he had not even blotting-paper. Whatever an author wrote had to be recopied again and again before it could reach any considerable circle of readers, and every copyist introduces some new error. Whenever a need for maps or diagrams arose, there were fresh difficulties. Such a science as anatomy, for example, depending as it does upon accurate drawing, must have been enormously hampered by the natural limitations of the copyist. The transmission of geographical facts again must have been almost incredibly tedious. No doubt a day will come when a private library and writing-desk of the year A.D. 1919 will seem quaintly clumsy and difficult; but measured by the standards of Alexandria, they are astonishingly quick, efficient, and economical of nervous and mental energy. No attempt seems to have been made at Alexandria to print anything at all. That strikes one at first as a very remarkable fact. The world was crying out for books, and not simply for books. There was an urgent public need for notices, proclamations, and the like. Yet there is nothing in the history of the Western civilizations that one can call printing until the fifteenth century A.D. It is not as though printing were a secret and mysterious art or dependent upon any precedent and preliminary discoveries. Printing is the most obvious of devices. In principle it has always been known. Coins are print. Illiterate persons in all ages have used wooden or metal stamps for their signatures; William I, the Norman Conqueror of England, for example, used such a stamp with Ink to sign documents. In China the classics were being printed by the second century A.D. Yet either because of a complex of small difficulties about ink or papyrus or the form of books, or because of some protective resistance on the part of the owners of the slave copyists, or because the script was too swift and easy to set men thinking how to write it still more easily, as the Chinese character or the Gothic letters did, or because of a gap in the social system between men of thought and knowledge and men of technical skill, printing was not used -- not even used for exact reproduction of illustrations. ' The chief reason for this failure to develop printing systematically lies, no doubt, in the fact that there was no abundant supply of printable material of a uniform texture and convenient form. The supply of papyrus was strictly limited, strip had to be fastened to strip, and there was no standard size of sheet. Paper had yet to come from China to release the mind of Europe. Had there been presses, they would have had to stand idle while the papyrus rolls were slowly made. But this explanation does not account for the failure to use block printing in the case of illustrations and diagrams. These limitations enable us to understand why it was that Alexandria could at once achieve the most extraordinary intellectual triumphs -- for such a feat as that of Eratosthenes, for instance, having regard to his poverty of apparatus, is sufficient to put him on a level with Newton or Pasteur -- and yet have little or no effect upon the course of politics or the lives and thoughts of people round about her. Her Museum and library were a center of light, but it was light in a dark lantern hidden from the general world. There were no means of carrying its results even to sympathetic men abroad except by tedious letter-writing. There was no possibility of communicating what was known there to the general body of men. Students had to come at great cost to themselves to this crowded center because there was no other way of gathering even scraps of knowledge. At Athens and Alexandria there were bookstalls where manuscript note-books of variable quality could be bought at reasonable prices, but any extension of education to larger classes and other centers would have produced at once a restrictive shortage of papyrus. Education did not reach into the masses at all; to become more than superficially educated one had to abandon the ordinary life of the times and come for long years to live in the neighborhood of ill-equipped and overworked sages. Learning was not indeed so complete a withdrawal from ordinary life as initiation into a priesthood, but it was still something in that nature. And very speedily that feeling of freedom, that openness and directness of statement, which is the vital air of the true intellectual life, faded out of Alexandria. From the first the patronage even of Ptolemy I set a limit to political discussion. Presently the dissensions of the schools let in the superstitious and prejudices of the city mob to scholastic affairs. Wisdom passed away from Alexandria and left pedantry in its place. For the use of books was substituted the worship of books. Very speedily the learned became a specialized queer class with unpleasant characteristics of it own. The Museum had not existed for half a dozen generations before Alexandria was familiar with a new type of human being; shy, eccentric, unpractical, incapable of essentials, strangely fierce upon trivialities of literary detail, as bitterly jealous of the colleague within as of the unlearned without, the Scholarly Man. He was as intolerant as a priest, though he had no altar; as obscurantist as a magician, though he had no cave. For him no method of copying was sufficiently tedious and no rare book sufficiently inaccessible. He was a sort of by-product of the intellectual process of mankind. For many precious generations the new-lit fires of the human intelligence were to be half extinguished by this by-product. Right thinking is necessarily an open process, and the only science and history of full value to men consist of what is generally and clearly known; this is surely a platitude, but we have still to discover how to preserve our centers of philosophy and research from the obscuring and darkening activities of narrow-minded specialists. We have still to ensure that a man of learning shall be none the less a man of affairs, and that all that can be thought and known is kept plainly, honestly, and easily available to the ordinary men and women who are the substance of mankind. LESSON35. ADVERTISEMENTS. Not the least interesting portions of newspapers, magazines, and reviews are those devoted to advertisements. A study of the advertisement columns of foreign publications is a help to learning the language in which they are written. In this lesson, we give an assortment of typical English advertisements. Most of them have been selected from the pages of newspapers published in England, America, and Japan. As, however, it is no part of this reader to advertise goods or situations, the actual names, initials, and addresses of the advertisers have in most cases been changed or modified. ---------------------------------------------- "WHAT WOULD I DO IF I LOST MY JOB?" SUPPOSE your employer told you to-morrow that he didn't need you any longer? Have you any idea where you could get another position? Don't let yourself be troubled by such thoughts, but train yourself to do some one thing so well that your services will be in demand. Employers don't discharge such men. They keep them, and offer them higher salaries. Decide to-day that you are going to get the raining that you must have if you are ever going to get-- and keep -- a real job at a real salary. It is easy if you really try. At home, now, in the spare time that now goes to waste, you can prepare for the position you want in the work you like best. For the American Correspondence School will train you as it is training thousands of other men -- no matter where you live -- no matter what your circumstances or your needs. Write for our booklet: "Who Get the Best Jobs and Why" American Correspondence School, 785 W. Lake St., Chicago. FURNITURE. New and Second-hand. Large choice. Office furniture. Bedroom furniture. Garden furniture. Call and see our stock. Strictly moderate prices.-- The London Furniture Company, Tottenham Court Road, London W. C. --------------------------------------- BOOKS. New and Second-hand. Immense choice. We can supply you with any books, or give you a fair price for books that you do not need. Taylor and Co., Charing Cross Road. --------------------------------- LONDON AND RAMSGATE. Daily boat service of comfortable and rapid steamers calling at Gravesend and Margate. Fare: Single: 6/-*** Return: 10/-. Steamers start at 10 a.m. from London Bridge. --------------------------------- TRAVEL BY ROAD! Comfortable Motor Coaches leave London twice a day from London to Margate, Ramsgate, Canterbury, Folkestone and Hastings. Particulars on application to the Road Travel Co., 672, High Holborn. W. C. ---------------------------------- USE SUNRISE STOVE POLISH. It Cleans, Polishes, and Preserves. ---------------------------------- Have you a Cold ? Have you a Sore Throat? Do you suffer from Headaches? Are you troubled with Toothache? Are you a sufferer from Indigestion? Are your Feet Tender? Whatever your complaint may be, we can provide you with a remedy. BROWN AND CO., Wholesale Chemists and Druggists, 24. High St. ROBINSON AND CO., LTD., PROVISION MERCHANTS AND GROCERS. For Wholesome Foods and Refreshing Drinks. Beef Sausages Bacon Ox-Tongues Pork Sausages Ham Pressed Beef Genuine Grape Juice, in pint and quart bottles Lemon Squash, ditto. Lemonade Cider ------------------------------------ In the Old Days Men wore whiskers and moustaches. The little shaving that was done was done with the old-fashioned razor. The Present Beardless Generation shaves with the Safety Razor and buys its blades from WILLIAM JONES AND CO. Agents for all makes of Safety Razors and Blades. --------------------------------- FOREIGN FIRM wants experienced Japanese Sales Manager for Import Department. Essential to be absolutely reliable, to take change of Tokyo office. Apply, stating salary required to Box 354 c/o The Japan Mail, Tokyo. --------------------------------- FOREIGNER, resident in Japan for many years, seeks position as assistant or secretary to a businessman. Hard and reliable worker. Good references. Please write to Box 358 c/o The Japan Mail, Tokyo. --------------------------------- GERMAN upright piano, good condition, beautiful soft tone, at 800.00. Apply etc. --------------------------------- FRENCH. Italian and English conversation taught by experienced French lady. Willing to teach at pupil's residence. Terms moderate. Apply etc. --------------------------------- CROWN HOTEL BRIGHTON Modern Accommodation Special Rates Good Management First-Class Service --------------------------------- A NUMBER of Public School Men are wanted to represent British firms at home or abroad. -- Write or call Business Association Ltd. 61. Fleet St., London E.C. --------------------------------- YOU are offered the services of a man who is old enough to possess a ripe experience of business and life, yet young enough to possess the enthusiasm, enterprise and initiative of youth. This man is not interested in spending the most precious years of his life in a simple situation. Only those who are: prepared after a certain time to take him into their business need apply. He will bring no cash capital, but the brains, capacity and experience to make a success of any sound affair. Write Box S 734. The Times. -------------------------------- HOLIDAY HOME for Children; long or short periods; every care; happy life. Hobson, South Road, Bournemouth. ------------------------------- WANTED. Nice country cottage, with garden and tennis lawn if possible, from Aug. 16th till end of month. Two or three bedrooms and good bathroom essential. Every care taken, no children, and good rent would be paid for suitable place. Reply with photograph if possible. Write Box Z 341. The Times. ------------------------------- A HAPPY NURSERY HOME offered by two ladies (one a hospital nurse) to babies up to seven years with or without own nurse. Highest references. Terms moderate. Apply the Misses Browning, The Oaks, Hastings. ------------------------------- ART. Make money if you can sketch; write for free booklet. Art School. 12 and 13, Henry St., W. C. 2. ------------------------------- WANT to join police? Study at home to pass educational test. Write Sec., Correspondence College, Nottingham. ------------------------------- LONDON UNIVERSITY MAN, age 32, B. Sc. Engineering, seven languages including fluent French, German and Modern Greek, with Engineering and business experience in England, U. S. A., and India, at present holding responsible position, seeks appointment requiring in particular organizing ability; Headquarters London, would travel abroad; initial salary 1,200 a year. Write Box Z. 392. The Times. ------------------------------- YOUNG MAN, 30, 8 years' experience in German banks, perfect English, some French, intelligent worker. K 8 Times. ------------------------------- WORLD BUILDING (63 Park Row, opposite City Hall) -- Beautiful, strictly private, furnished office to let. Room 610. ------------------------------- A NEW KIND OF HOLIDAY NORWAY-NATURE'S WONDERLAND INCLUSIVE TOURS FROM 20. A holiday in Norway is better than any you've ever had before. Norway is so vast and so varied that there is always plenty to do and see. You can spend your time in jolly company, bathing, boating, and fishing in the clear waters of a sheltered fjord. You can climb mountains, or explore vast forests. You can plan steamer excursions or go fishing in the many streams to be found everywhere. Wherever you go the beauty of this wonderful land is around you. Norwegian food and cooking are as good as any in Europe. All travel and hotel accommodation is reduced this year. English spoken everywhere. An illustrated booklet about Norway and holidays there may be obtained from the principal travel agents, or direct from the NORWEGIAN STATE RAILWAYS OFFICE -------------------------------- YOUNG MAN, well educated, refined, good appearance and personality, wanted as showroom assistant by manufacturer of women's cloth coats, evening wraps and furs. Experience desirable but not essential. Splendid opportunity for active young man, Box 350. -------------------------------- ARE YOU looking for a house? If so, we can help you in your search. Any part of Great Britain. Town or Country. Seaside or Inland. Robertson and Co. House Agents, 142, High St. ---------------------------- HAVE YOU anything to sell? A small advertisement in the columns of this paper will enable you to sell it to advantage. ---------------------------- DENTIST requires experienced assistant thoroughly acquainted with modern methods. Urgent. Apply Box 671, Office of this paper. ---------------------------- NURSE wanted immediately. With experience. Best references required. Apply to Lake Nursing Home. ---------------------------- UNIQUE OPPORTUNITY! Large stock of woolen goods to be sold at exceptionally low prices. Green Bros. 46, High St. --------------------------- BEAUTIFUL BOOKS Nowhere can so many Beautiful Books be found as at 221, Piccadilly. Such beauty is not dependent upon Price, for Private Presses specialize in productions beautiful but inexpensive, and we have a stock that is unique. Fine Bindings and Scarce Editions are here, together with all the newest books and a trained staff able to answer questions. An Expert in Library Work attends to Private Libraries. Moderate Charges. J. & E. DRAKE, LIMITED 221. Piccadilly. W. 1. ------------------------------------ LONDON - BEDFORD HOTEL RUSSELL STREET, W. C. 1. One of the Most Comfortable Hotels in London. Beautiful Winter Garden. Orchestra daily. Hot and Cold Water in nearly all Bedrooms. Best situation for reaching all parts. MODERATE TERMS FOR FIRST CLASS HOTEL ------------------------------------- SOUTH AFRTC, Brazil, India, Australia, Malay States, etc. -- Numerous Clients have received excellent positions with mining, railway, trading, engineering and planting firms in different parts of the world. Clerks, engineers, shop assistants, and others seeking appointments in the tropics or in America, France, Belgium, or the British Isles should send for terms and full details of the assistance rendered to those already residing abroad. Kemp and Co. Ltd., Colonial and Foreign Agents, 341, Oxford St., London. W. C. TYPEWRITERS.-- Bargains in all makes, sale, hire, repair, exchange. The London Typewriter Exchange. 82, High Holborn, London. W. C. --------------------------------------- A PUBLIC SCHOOLBOY WRITES FROM SOUTH AFRICA "I am sorry I did not go out sooner; this life is so delightful, and I am getting the right sort of training." Full particulars will be supplied by the Secretary Colonial and Foreign Settlers' , Association, 342, Regent St,, W. l. -------------------------------------- GRAMOPHONE RECORDS by Post securely packed and insured. Every make of Record. Every title in stock. Lists and terms free. Record Exchange, 67, Strand, London. W. C. -------------------------------------- GENTLEMAN will act as tutor guardian, guide, companion to students, gentlemen. Educational foreign tours. Experienced in camping &c. Best references. George Hall, 31, Westminster St., London. S. W. --------------------------------- FOR MOSQUITO BITES, WASP OR BEE STINGS, there is nothing that relieves the irritation so quickly and effectively as our INSECT BITE REMEDY HARDY & CO. DRUGGISTS. 27, High Street. -------------------------------- TO LET for Summer months a two-story Japanese house completely and comfortably furnished, in Azabu. Rent l50.00 per month. For further particulars apply to Box 1642, Japan Mail, Tokyo. --------------------------------- SHORTHAND-TYPIST. Japanese, speaking English fluently, with experience, seeks situation in foreign firm. A. B. C. Japan Mail, Tokyo. --------------------------------- FURISHED ROOM, near Central Station. With or without meals. Modern Bathroom. Suitable for bachelor or widow. Rent moderate. Apply J. White, 38 Station Road. --------------------------------- BARGAIN. Violin by well-known maker. Complete with case. May be seen any day after 6 p.m. Any reasonable offer accepted. W. Johnson, 71, Park Avenue. --------------------------------- LOST. On Tuesday in Victoria Park, brown-paper parcel containing various papers of no value except to owner. Finder will be suitably rewarded. Swiss Consulate, Central Building, New St.. Birmingham. --------------------------------- Christmas Presents! New Year Presents! What shall we give baby for his Christmas Present? What would grandfather like for his Christmas? Before choosing your presents for the Christmas season, come and inspect our stock. Gifts suitable for young and old. Mechanical Toys. Picture Books. Calendars. Leather Goods. Ties. Silk Handkerchiefs. Cameras. Opera Glasses. Dressing Cases. Come and make your choice. WOOD'S BAZAAR 365, Broadway. LESSON 36. SCOTLAND. The following are extracts from one of the series of books entitled Peeps at Many Lands, which give us simple but interesting accounts of different countries and the people who inhabit them. The particular book which the following passages have been taken and adapted is called "Scotland," and was written by Scot. --------------------------------- An English schoolboy was one asked to write an essay on Scotland, and he began by saying, "Scotland is the smaller half of England." He knew that England and Scotland are parts of the same island, and that nowadays they form one kingdom, inhabited by the same people, who speak the same language, have the same parliament, and obey the same king; and that, when we cross the border and go from Scotland into England, or from England into Scotland, we do not need get out of the train and have our boxes opened and searched by the Customs officials as is done when travelers go from France into Germany, from Italy into France, or from Poland or Finland into Russia. So when he said that "Scotland is the smaller half of England," he was only trying to explain that, although we always conceive of England and Scotland as two separate countries, they are not two separate kingdoms, and that Scotland is smaller than England. All thy same, it was rather an unfortunate way of putting it, and I should imagine, if the boy were English, and if he had any Scotch school-fellows, they gave him rather a hard time of it in the playground when they got out of school. For, although Scottish people are glad to belong to the "United Kingdom" as it is called of Great Britain, and so to form part of the British Empire, they always like to remember that their little northern land has a history of its own, quite apart from that of England, and that many quaint old national customs still cling to it, although they are fewer now than they were fifty years ago. About three and a quarter centuries ago the two kingdoms of England and Scotland were joined together, and before that they were bitter enemies, and the smaller and poorer kingdom of Scotland, instead of looking to its richer sister for help and succor, as might have been expected, turned for sympathy to the remoter country of France whenever it got into difficulties or needed support. When we read about the early history of this little country, we find that it was not called Scotland at all, but Caledonia, and it was very wild and inaccessible region indeed. Part of it was covered by an immense forest, in which lived all kinds of wild animals -- bears, wolves, boars, and savage white cattle, which were so fierce that they were almost as much to be dreaded as the bears and wolves. This northern land gradually changed its name from Caledonia to Scotland, which means the land of the Scots, or Scotch. There were two wild tribes that inhabited the country north of the Roman wall -- the part that we call the Highlands. There were the Scots, who came from Ireland, and the Picts. The Scots gradually conquered the Picts, until at last a Scottish king reigned over the whole country. That was nearly eleven hundred years ago. At his coronation this king had as his seat a large tough fiat stone which, according to tradition had been brought over from Ireland long before. When King Edward I of England first conquered Scotland (as we once read), he had this stone conveyed to London, and if we go to Westminster Abbey and examine the Coronation Chair, in which the kings and queens of England sit when they are crowned, we shall see this slab of stone forming, as it were, the seat. James Y. of Scotland inherited the English throne, and by this inheritance Scotland and England were joined under one crown. There are two words -- the "Highlands" and the "Lowlands" -- which are very often used when people are talking or writing about Scotland. The "Highlands" are that part of the country where the land is thrown up into high hills and mountains, while the "Low lands" are just where the land is low and fairly level. The Lowlands are situated in the southern and eastern parts of the country, and the Highlands in the northern and western and so the Highlands include that part of the country which is all cut up by the sea, and full of mountains and lakes, and includes the numerous islands that lie round the west coast. And it is this that makes the Highlands so famous for their beauty, because, as you can see, the scenery is so varied. There are so many tongues of land, with blue arms of the sea running up between them, and narrow valleys, and deep lakes, and swiftly flowing rivers, fed by thousands of streams that come tumbling down the steep mountain-sides. Away out in the sea, too, are hundreds of islands, some of them so small that not even a sheep can live on them, and some of them so large that there are villages, and even towns upon them. As a general rule, we find that the Highlands are very thinly populated -- that is, there not many people living there; and as one drives through the country one sees very few houses, only a little cottage on the hill-side here and there, and now and then one passes a little village standing down in some lonely valley. The reason of this is that the soil in the Highlands is neither so rich nor so deep as it is in the Lowlands, because, instead of being stretched out in great level fields, where manure can be laid on it, it is sprinkled over the sides of the mountains, which are very rocky, and people cannot plough it, and grow wheat and barley on it. Consequently there are not so many people needed to work on the land in the Highlands as are needed in the Lowlands. Then, very few of the common industries are carried on in the Highlands, for there are not many railways there, and it is much more convenient to have mills and foundries and engineering works down in the Lowlands, where there are plenty of railways, and it is easy to get large supplies of coal with which to drive the engines and machinery. So the Highlanders have to find employment as gamekeepers or fishermen, or they farm little patches of land which belong to them and I am afraid that when they do this, they often find it very hard to live, for the crops that they manage to raise are poor, and there are not many markets at which they can sell their sheep or cattle. If you went up into the Highlands there are three things that would strike you at once. One would be the language of the people; the next, their dress; and the third, their names. If you spoke to two or three shepherds walking along the road, or went up to a group of children and asked them a question, they would probably answer you in English, for English is taught in all the schools nowadays; but if you heard them talking to one another, you would not be able to make out a word they said, unless you had learned Gaelic; for that is the language of the Highlands, and long ago the people talked Gaelic and nothing else. "But why did the Highlanders talk Gaelic and the Lowlanders English?" Well, the answer to that question is a long one, but if you begin to read about it you will find that the people in the Highlands are what are led Celts -- they are descended from Celtic races, who spoke a language of their own -- while the Lowlands are inhabited by people who are descended from the Anglo-Saxons and Scandinavians, whose language was more or less the same as that spoken in England. The Highland dress is entirely different from the dress of the Lowlands or of the English. Instead of trousers they wear the "kilt," a short skirt reaching to the knees, with short stockings showing the bare knees, and a little jacket with a long scarf called a "plaid" wound round the waist and chest, and falling from the shoulder. The color and pattern of the kilt and plaid depend on the clan to which the wearer belongs. And that brings us to the third point, viz., the names of the Highlanders. So many of these people have the same surnames. We are struck with the fact that in one district almost all the people are called Fraser; in another, Campbell; in another. MacDonald; in another MacGregor; and so on. These are what are called "clan names." At one time the population of the Highlands was divided up into clans, and each clan had its own surname. These clans were constantly fighting with one another, but if a common enemy threatened them, they forgot their own quarrels for the time, and banded themselves together to drive back the common foe. All these clans wore the Highland dress, and each of them had its own tartan, with the colors a little differently arranged. And even to this day people who are descended from these old Highland families are proud of their decent; and, no matter where they live -- in England, or Canada, or Africa -- they like to have kilts, or ties, or rugs made out of their family tartan, and they look up to the head of their clan with a certain respect, although they do not feel called upon to obey him as the clansmen obeyed their chiefs in the olden times. LESSON 37. WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH ? Herbert Spencer has been described by Lafcadio Hearn as "the world's greatest thinker." He was born at Derby, in England, in 1820, and died in 1903. His life was one of hardship, poverty, and ill-health. Not having the advantage of a college education, he was practically self-taught. He began life in a railway engineer's office, and probably would not have been heard of had not a time of disaster come to railways, and driven him into journalism in London. He set himself to write a whole scheme of philosophy in ten great volumes. He gave himself twenty years in which to do the work. He was then nearly forty, and the work took him forty years to finish. The books were not such as people would readily buy. They were dry and hard to read, wonderful as they were as works of learning and reasoning. When his task was finished, his fame was world-wide. His books were read as much in Japan as in America and Europe. The following are extracts from his book called Education: Intellectual, Moral,and Physical. ------------------------------- Among mental as among bodily acquisitions, the ornamental comes before the useful. Not only in times past, but almost as much in our own era, that knowledge which conduces to personal well-being has been postponed to that which brings applause. In the Greek schools, music, poetry, rhetoric, and a philosophy which, until Socrates taught, had but little hearing upon action, were the dominant subjects; while knowledge aiding the arts of life had a very subordinate place. ------------------------------ A boy in nine cases out of ten applies his Latin and Greek to no practical purposes. In his shop, or his office, in managing his estate or his family, in playing his part as director of a bank or a railway, he is very little aided by this knowledge he took so many years to acquire -- so little, that generally the greater part of it drops out of his memory; and if he occasionally ventures a Latin quotation, or , alludes to some Greek myth, it is less to throw light on the topic in hand than for the sake of effect. If we inquire what is the real motive for giving boys a classical education, we find it to be simply conformity to public opinion. Men dress their children's minds as they do their bodies, in the prevailing fashion. As the Orinoco Indian puts on paint before leaving his hut, not with a view to any direct benefit, but because he would be ashamed to be seen without it; so, a boy's drilling in Latin and Greek is insisted on, not because of their intrinsic value, but that he may not be disgraced by being found ignorant of them -- that he may have "the education of a gentleman" -- the badge marking a certain social position, and bringing a consequent respect. ----------------------------------- Not what knowledge is of most real worth, is the consideration; but what will bring most applause, honor, respect -- what will conduce most to social position and influence -- what will be most imposing. As, throughout life, not what we are, but what we shall be thought, is the question; so in education, the question is, not the intrinsic value of knowledge, so much as its extrinsic effects on others. And this being our dominant idea, direct utility is scarcely more regarded than by the barbarian when filing his teeth and staining his nails. ----------------------------------- Men read books on this topic, and attend lectures on that; decide that their children shall be instructed in these branches of knowledge, and shall not be instructed in those; and all under the guidance of mere custom, or liking or prejudice; without even considering the enormous importance of determining in some rational way what things are really most worth learning. But whether the degree of its importance justifies the expenditure of the time needed to acquire it; and whether there are not things of more importance to which such time might be better devoted, are queries which, if raised at all, are disposed of quite summarily, according to personal predilections. It is true also, that now and then, we hear revived the standing controversy respecting the comparative merits of classics and mathematics. This controversy, however, is carried on in an empirical manner with no reference to an ascertained criterion; and the question at issue is insignificant when compared with the general question of which it is part. To suppose that deciding whether a mathematical or a classical education is the best, is deciding what is the proper curriculum, is much the same as to suppose that the whole of the science of food values lies in ascertaining whether or not bread is more nutritive than potatoes!" ----------------------------- Remembering how narrowly our time for acquisition is limited, not only by the shortness of life, but also still more by the business of life, we ought to be especially solicitous to employ what time we have to the greatest advantage. Before devoting years to some subject which fancy or fashion suggests, it is surely wise to weigh with great care the worth of the results, as compared with the worth of various alternative results which the same years might bring if otherwise applied. In education, then, this is the question of questions, which it is high time we discussed in some methodical way. The first in importance, though the last to be considered, is the problem -- how to decide among the conflicting claims of various subjects on our attention. Before there can be a rational curriculum, we must settle which things it most concerns us to know; or, to use a word of Bacon's, now unfortunately obsolete -- we must determine the relative values of knowledges. To this end, a measure of value is the first requisite. And happily, respecting the true measure of value, as expressed in general terms, there can be no dispute. Everyone, in contending for the worth of any particular order of information, does so by showing its bearing upon some part of life. ---------------------------------- Our first step must obviously be to classify, in the order of their importance, the leading kinds of activity which constitute human life. They may be naturally arranged into: -- 1. those activities which directly minister to self-preservation; 2. those activities which, by securing the necessaries of life, indirectly minister to self-preservation; 3. those activities which have for their end the rearing and discipline of offspring; 4. those activities which are involved in the maintenance of proper social and political relations; 5. those miscellaneous activities which fill up the leisure part of life, devoted to the gratification of the tastes and feelings. ---------------------------------- Of course the ideal of education is -- complete preparation in all these divisions. But failing this ideal, as in our phase of civilization everyone must do more or less, the aim should be to maintain a due proportion between the degrees of preparation in each. Not exhaustive cultivation in any one -- supremely important though it may be -- not even an exclusive attention to the two, three, or four divisions of greatest importance; but an attention to all; -- greatest where the value is greatest; less where the value is less; least where the value is least. ---------------------------- To the question we set out with -- what knowledge is of most worth ? -- the uniform reply is -- Science. This is the verdict on all counts. For direct self-preservation, or the maintenance of life and health, the all important knowledge is -- Science. For the due discharge of parental functions, the proper guidance is to be found only in -- Science. For that interpretation of national life, past and present, without which the citizen cannot rightly regulate his conduct, the indispensable key is -- Science. Alike for the most perfect production and present enjoyment of art in all its forms, the needful preparation, is still -- Science, and for purposes of discipline -- intellectual, moral, religious -- the most efficient study is, once more -- Science. The question which at first seemed so perplexing has become, in the course of our inquiry, comparatively simple. ------------------------------- Necessary and eternal as are its truths, all Science concerns all mankind for all time. Equally at present and in the remotest future, must it be of incalculable importance for the regulation of their conduct, that men should understand the science of life, physical, mental, and social; and that they should understand all other science as a key to the science of life. LESSON 38. THE POLICEMAN'S UNIVERSITY. PART I. "Your policemen -- they are wonderful!" That phrase, so often used by distinguished visitors to our shores, expresses a truth with which every Englishman agrees. The more we see of the Metropolitan police-constable the more we marvel at the many admirable qualities he possesses. It is no exaggeration to say that the average London policeman is expected to include in his composition, in varying degrees, some of the discipline of the soldier, the fearlessness of the fireman, the tact of the diplomat, the learning of the lawyer, the skill of the doctor, the patience of the nursemaid, and the erudition of the encyclopedia. How does he acquire them ? The miracle which transforms an ordinary civilian from the office, factory, or farm into a smart young constable is performed at Peel House, the official training centre of the Metropolitan Police, not far from Victoria Station. Peel House is neither a school nor barracks. It is, in effect, a policemen's university -- an institution with a tradition, in which the formation of character, the encouragement of good fellowship, and the development of esprit de corps are reckoned just as important as the teaching of drills and lessons. Picture a vast building, capable of housing two hundred men, each with his private room and a set of three "safes" in which to store clothing, boots, and food. Imagine a billiard-room, a canteen, a concert hall, a gymnasium, a library, a hospital, two dining halls, three bath houses, thirteen class-rooms, and a parade ground, and you will have a good mind's-eye view of Peel House. Now come with me, if you please, and see what an enormous amount the present-day policeman has to learn. Perhaps you have a vague idea that so long as he knows how to say, "What's all this?" "Pass along, please," and, "Everything you say will be taken down and used in evidence," his education is complete. Oh, no! He has to learn not to split his infinitives or double his negatives. He has to know the difference between larceny and false pretences, and to be able to distinguish a felony from a misdemeanor. He has to acquire physical strength and skill, besides a great deal of knowledge about dogs, street nuisances, aeroplanes, finger prints, accidents, forgeries, licenses, and a host of other things. However, let us drop generalities and come to particulars. The perfection of the police force is largely a matter of elimination. Out of every hundred men who present themselves not more than an average of fifteen are finally retained. It happened this way. The candidate first applies to his local police-station. If he fulfils the necessary qualification -- that is, if he is over five feet nine, has a medical certificate, and a perfect character covering all his activities from the day he left school -- his name is entered and forwarded to headquarters. Applicants from all over the country are called up to Scotland Yard at the rate of about one hundred a week. Here they undergo further medical examination, which is so severe that, despite the fact that many have been passed by their local doctors, on an average sixty-five per cent, are rejected -- mostly on account of minor defects. Next the candidates are interviewed by a Selection Committee, with the result that probably another fifteen are weeded out. Thus, as a general rule, not more than twenty applicants are taken into the school at a time. Upon arrival at Peel House they are subjected to an educational test. Sometimes, at the first sitting, a number of men fail. Of these, however, some show sufficient promise to warrant a further trial, and the authorities are prepared to give them two or three weeks' schooling. The test, however, must be passed before a man is accepted for training in police work. This policy of "putting back" men who fail to pass the various tests at the first attempt is maintained throughout the course, so that every man who needs it is given a fresh chance under a different instructor. At the invitation of the superintendent I visited one of the educational classes and listened for a while to a sergeant who, in the role of school master, was giving a lesson in grammar. In the next room I found an inspector delivering a lecture on finger-prints. It was in this class, by the way, that I first observed that there were ladies in the school. The Women Police, it appears, go through precisely the same training as the men, the distinctions of sex being observed only in the physical training and first-aid classes. "The women candidates, as a rule, are remarkably quick to learn," one of the instructors told me. "Once they have passed the educational test, it is seldom that they take longer than nine weeks -- the minimum time -- to get through the course." In another class-room a sergeant was discussing disputes arising out of passengers in public vehicles refusing to pay their fares. The young constable requires to know a great deal about the law or he may get himself into trouble for making wrongful arrests. Passing on, picking up a scrap of knowledge here and acquiring a new experience there, I came to another class which was enjoying a lecture on counterfeit notes and coins. "Enjoying" is just the word, for the instructors at Peel House seem to know the art of being interesting. I commented upon this to the superintendent. "Yes," he agreed, "I would rather an instructor spent nearly half the time allotted for a lesson in arousing the interest of his hearers than that he should try to 'cram' them when they are not in the proper mood. To give a lesson to a class without first gripping their attention is like giving food to men who are not hungry. They will refuse to swallow it -- or, having swallowed it, fail to digest it. A lesson must be made interesting so as to ensure sustained attention and permanent benefit." The men who train the police recruits, besides being skilled instructors, are all students of human nature; and, having learned the subjects they teach in the school of practical experience, they are often able to serve them up in the form of interesting yarns. "I remember when I was a young constable," a stalwart sergeant was saying as I entered the room, "I was called upon by a shopkeeper to arrest a man for trying to pass a bad half-crown. The man declared it was a good one. The shopkeeper banged it on the counter and showed that it did not ring. Then I had a look at the coin. It seemed all right in appearance -- all the same, it didn't ring. Now I wasn't in a position to say which one of them was wrong. What ought I to have done?" A young candidate jumped to his feet. "You should have arrested the man as requested and put the responsibility of charging him on to the shopman," he replied. "Good heavens, no! You young fellows seem to think that a constable -- because he is a constable -- can arrest a man just whenever he thinks fit. You must get that idea out of your heads." "I should have asked them both to come to e nearest chemist's and have the coin tested," suggested another recruit. "Quite a sensible answer. Well, supposing the chemist had said the coin was a bad one, what should I have done then?" There was no reply. Presumably the class still had the idea of an arrest at the back of their minds, but were hesitating to admit it. "Well, it depends upon the circumstances," the instructor went on. "The main point to remember in charges of this sort is that there must be evidence of guilty knowledge. Now just make a note of that, and turn to your text-books and . . . ." Time was pressing and I had to pass on, but I had heard sufficient to increase my wonderment at the amount of legal knowledge the young constable is expected to acquire in his brief course of training. LESSON 39. THE POLICEMAN'S UNIVERSITY. PART U. Crossing the parade ground, dodging several squads which were being drilled by an instructor who had been a drill-sergeant in the Guards -- and sounded like it -- I came to another class assembled round a realistic representation of a street accident. Apparently a motor van had skidded, stuck a street refuge, and come into collision with a private car. A mud-guard of the van was damaged, the front lamp of the private car had been knocked off and broken, and the dummy street refuge seemed to have suffered considerably. Otherwise there was nothing serious. The class was listening intently white the instructor, acting as the considerable on the beat noted all the necessary particulars, made measurements of distances and made caused by the skidding, and wrote down the statements of the two drivers and other "witness." Traffic control is taught in an equally practical manner. After a few lectures the recruits are taken to a dummy "cross-road" and each man in turn is made to try his hand at controlling real traffic. The problem involved are many and varied. I saw one young man trying to deal with two hand-carts that wished to cross in front of him from opposite directions, a motor-van behind him that wanted to proceed straight ahead and, behind this, a cyclist who was signaling his intention to turn to the left. In addition to the traffic there was a small crowd of "pedestrians" who had got halfway across the road and had become stranded on a refuge! The recruit hesitated for a second. The motor-van nearly ran over him. He raised his hand suddenly, and the driver jammed on his brakes, with the result that the cyclist behind instantly crashed into him. It was done so realistically that, for a moment, I believed that a real accident had occurred. However, it soon became clear that the smash had been prearranged with the object of giving the recruit an unforgettable lesson on the dangers of acting too impulsively. With such thorough training as this it is no wonder that the London policeman has gained a reputation for reliability in emergencies. The authorities are not satisfies to test a man by the knowledge he possesses; he will not be passed out as trained until he knows how to apply that knowledge readily and accurately. Realism appears to be the keynote of most of the advanced lessons in the curriculum. Later in the day I saw a thrilling little drama in three scenes, representing an arrest for theft, the making of the charge, and finally the trial in the police-court. Scene I. was an exterior. The recruits were told that the portion of the parade ground selected represented "High Street," and that a doorway at the top of a row of steps was supposed to be a shop, "No. 27." They were then instructed to watch closely and observe what happened. Along the street came a constable, strolling in the usual leisurely fashion of a policeman on his beat. About two yards ahead of him walked a civilian, outwardly peaceful and calm, and apparently quite unaware of what was going to happen. Suddenly from the doorway of "No. 27" another civilian ran out, gesticulating and pointing. Breathless and excited, he indicated to the constable that he wanted the other man arrested. The man was by now a few yards ahead, but the policeman soon caught him up. "Here, what's the game?" said the man who had been detained, indignantly. "Just a moment, sir," was all that the policeman replied. By this time the gentleman from number twenty-seven had arrived. "This man came into my shop about half an hour ago and stole a pocket-book from off the counter. I want you to arrest him," he said. "I'm not the man," shouted the accused, with wrathful indignation. However, he soon yielded to a little forceful persuasion and went quietly to the station. The recruit were then told that each man individually must imagine himself in the position of the constable in the case. It was pointed out that the facts must be carefully memorized, so that they could be entered in the official book at the earliest opportunity in the official book at the earliest opportunity in this instance, on arrival at the police station. SceneU.was a class-room, furnished to represent the charge-room at the "station." The constable had arrived with his prisoner and the prosecutor, and was busy making notes in his book. The prisoner was sitting on a chair, cap in hand, with an expression of injured innocence upon his features. "Well Jones," said the station officer to the constable, "What's this?" "Sir," replied the constable, pulling himself up smartly; "about twenty-thirty p.m. to-day I was on duty in High Street. I was walking past number twenty-seven and prisoner was walking a few yards ahead of me. Suddenly this gentleman ran out of number twenty-seven and said something to me. In consequence of what he said I ran after prisoner and detained him until the arrival of prosecutor. Then, in the presence and hearing of the prisoner, prosecutor said" (here the constable pulled out his notebook and read out the words with the precision of a small child taking a lesson in a kindergarten class): "This man came into my shop about half an hour ago and stole a pocket-book from off the counter. I want you arrest him." "I turned to prisoner and said, 'You heard his gentleman's statement. I am going to arrest you on that charge;' to which he replied" (here he referred to the notebook again), " 'I am not the man.' So I brought him here, sir." The station officer wrote down this statement carefully and precisely, then turned to the prosecutor and took down his name and address, occupation, and certain details of evidence, together with a full description of the missing pocket-book and an estimate of its value. Then he turned to the prisoner and asked name. "Hawkins," said the prisoner, briefly. "Your Christian name?" "Jim -- Jim Hawkins." "I want your full name, please." "James Edward Hawkins," replied the prisoner, surlily. "Address?" "Forty-two, Blank Street, Tooting, just round corner from -- " "Age?" "Thirty-seven -- thirty-eight next Thursday week. I tell you, I don't know anything about any pocket-book and -- " "All right, well come to that presently," said the inspector, not unkindly. "Occupation?" "Bricklayer." "Now, you are charged with stealing a pocket-book from number twenty-seven, High Street, the property of this gentleman. Do you wish to say anything in answer to the charge? You are not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so, but whatever you say will be taken down in writing and may be given in evidence." "Well, the pocket-book was there all right, but I never took it." The constable and inspector carefully wrote this statement down in their notebooks. The recruits, keenly alert to every move, followed their example. "Search the prisoner," said the station officer. The constable ordered the prisoner to stand, ran his hands over him, and emptied his pockets, allowing him to see each article extracted and asking him to observe that an accurate inventory was being taken. During this search the prisoner made several grumbling remarks which seemed to amuse the class very considerably, although the sergeant and the inspector showed not the semblance of a smile. The last article which came to light was a brown leather pocket-book answering to the description of the missing property. This was identified by the prosecutor and duly entered in the inventory with the addition of the words "Found in the right inside coat-pocket." The prisoner was then taken to the cells. End of Scene II. LESSON40. THE POLICEMAN'S UNIVERSITY. (CONCLUSION) SceneV. Represented the police-court. The superintendent took the part of the magistrate, and before him the whole of the evidence was carefully repeated. At the conclusion of this "trial" the prisoner remained in the "dock" while the recruits were called out one by one to take the place of the constable and give evidence, each man's bearing, mode of address, and accuracy of detail being carefully criticized by the instructor. Afterwards I made enquiries as to the identity of the man who had played the part of the prisoner so realistically, and was surprised to learn that he was one of the instructors. I believe that he is due to retire from the force very shortly, so if any theatrical manager happens to be looking for an actor capable of playing an East-End "crook" to the life he may know where to apply. The following day I watched this selfsame man, now dressed in a smart uniform with three silver stripes on his arm, teaching a squad of recruits how to handle what he described as "difficult customers." Even in these demonstrations he revealed himself as a born actor, with a natural leaning towards comedy. "Now suppose you are on your beat," he said, strolling along in the approved style. "Remember, two and a half miles an hour is the regulation walking pace on duty. Now imagine you see a man steal something out of a shop. You run after him and catch hold of him. Now you don't want to hurt him and you don't want to hurt yourself. So just remember to try a little tact first. If he won't come quietly, then you must use a little skill -- and if you don't succeed, then you must decide for yourself whether it's to be the whistle or the truncheon. Personally I prefer the whistle, because a policeman's job is to get his man to the station, not to fight with him. Still, if he knows his business there won't be much struggling. I have arrested hundreds -- no, I'm not exaggerating, I said hundreds -- of hard cases, and I've never damaged a man yet. Why? I'll show you." He beckoned to a powerful-looking young Scotsman to step out from the class. "Now you can see that I am a little policeman, but if I had any nonsense from this fellow I could manage him all right. Now then, my lad, kick me -- go on, don't be afraid, kick me!" The recruit attempted to do as he was told, but found himself locked in a grip which rendered him quite helpless. "This isn't exactly ju-jitsu, you must understand, but a special system of our own. The police method is to render a man harmless without doing him any harm. I'm not hurting you, my lad, am I?" "No, sergeant," answered his victim, grinning but looking rather ashamed. "Now if you hold a man like this for any length of time you'll find your arm will ache. But keep cool and calm. If you get excited you'll lose your dignity." During this interesting little lecture the sergeant walked up and down, apparently quite oblivious of the fact that he was dragging his helpless victim with him. "So if you get tired, change your grip. Like this. Now he's more helpless than ever. Go on, my lad, see if you can hit me or kick me. You're bigger than I am -- give me a thump on the ear!" "Wow!" was all that the recruit replied. In attempting to strike the sergeant he had been thrown off his balance and was lying face downwards on the gymnasium mat in a more helpless position than ever. The onlookers laughed at his expression of dismay. "Now, if he's a tough case," continued the sergeant, placing his knee upon his prostrate victim, "the thing to remember is, once you get him off his feet never attempt to get him up again. You don't want to weary yourself and your comrades, and you don't want to make a public exhibition by dragging an unwilling man to the station. Send for the ambulance and give him a ride." In the afternoon I joined another class and proceeded on a conducted tour round a real police-station, which included a visit to the cells and a lecture on the treatment of prisoners. The inspector in charge emphasized the importance of remembering that prisoners awaiting trial were assumed innocent until the magistrate had dealt with them. "Each cell is fitted with an electric bell so that the prisoners' wants may be properly attended to," he said, "and it is the duty of those acting as jailers to answer every ring. More than one policeman has, in the past, been severely reprimanded by his superiors for neglecting the needs of prisoners. Of course, if you get a very troublesome individual, who insists upon ringing the bell without proper cause, there is a switch here which enables the inspector to put the particular line out of action. Then the prisoner can go on ringing to his heart's content without creating the slightest disturbance. But in the ordinary way prisoners are allowed to have newspapers, and are made as comfortable as circumstances permit. Remember always that a policeman is a public servant and that these prisoners, until proved guilty, are members of the public. It may be difficult to show kindness to a man who has kicked you and given one of your comrades a black eye, but it isn't for you to punish him -- leave that to the magistrate. The Force has a reputation for absolute fairness and impartiality, and when you fellows become constables you will be expected to maintain it." How eager are the present-day candidates assimilate all that is taught them at Peel House may be judged from the fact that voluntary evening classes are held nightly. Here, with a pleasing lack of formality, the men are allowed to select their own subjects for discussion and also to smoke during lectures. It is due in no small measure to the excellent attendance at these classes, combined with the noteworthy atmosphere of disciplined friendliness displayed by the instructors; that it is possible for quite a fair proportion of candidates to pass through the school course in the minimum time of nine weeks. And nearly all the candidates, unless they are rejected at an early stage of the training, manage to pass out in the maximum time of sixteen weeks. Upon leaving Peel House, however, the young man's tuition is not complete. He is sworn in as a police officer and sent to a division, but only as a probationer. Then follows a six months' course in the division, coupled with experience under the guidance of a specially selected inspector, and attendance at classes, lectures, and drills arranged by the divisional superintendent. Finally, if he passes two further distinct examinations by a board of independent examiners, and receives from his superintendent a satisfactory report as to his good conduct and adaptability, his appointment is officially confirmed, and he is at last deemed worthy to face the world as a fully-fledged constable.