is made by all good Japanese—- the oftener the
better, especially as they grow old, because
they get each time full absolution from the
priests for their past sins.

The sun goddess and the Mikado are allied
together; and as we now are journeying
towards a seat of government, we can do nothing
better than discuss the Japanese religion. It
begins with an Oriental " once upon a time,"
of gods who reigned for a few millions of
years apiece, above whom there was, and is,
and ever will be, one supreme God, free from
care. The last of seven royal gods said to his
wife one day, " There's earth somewhere, I 'm
sure! " and so he poked about with his spear
in the water, feeling for it. Drops falling
from his spear-point made the islands of Japan.
Then this god made eight millions of other
gods, and also created the ten thousand things.
Having ordered matters to his satisfaction, he
made a present of his Japanese earth to his
pet daughter, the sun goddess. The sun
goddess reigned only two hundred and fifty
thousand yars, and her four successors filled
the next two million; the last of the four,
being the great-great-grandson of the sun
goddess, fancied a mortal life, and left a mortal
boy, who reigned on earth, and was the first
Mikado: from him all Mikados are descended.
This is the native Japanese religion, called
Sintoo; worshipping the sun goddess, and
Kami, which are minor gods, or saints. The
Sintoos bow before no images, but put as
emblems in their temples a sheet of white
paper and a mirror, to denote the soul pure
and incapable of stain. The worshipper kneels,
gazes at the mirror, offers sacrifice of fruit or
rice, deposits money, and retires. Upon this
creed Buddhism has been grafted; but the
religion of the learned Japanese is Sintoo—- a
philosophic moral doctrine which they cherish
secretly, while outwardly observing rites
prescribed by custom.

But revenons à nos Mikados: the first
Mikado, though of fabulous descent, is an
historical person, Zin-mu-ten-woo, and with
him Japanese history begins—- at a period
from whence we date rational annals in some
other countries, about 660 B. C. We will note
those points of history that are essential to a
comprehension of the present government.
Mikados followed each other, sole rulers and
powerful, until they fell into a trick of
abdicating in favour of their children, and then
doing the duty without being annoyed by the
ceremonies of their office. That had its
inconvenient results, for presently came one
Mikado who married the daughter of a
powerful papa; and when the time came for
retirement, and he had abdicated in favour of
a son three years old, the powerful papa
thrust him aside into a prison, and usurped
the regency. A civil war was the result of
this; Yoritomo leaped up as champion of the
imprisoned man, so recently a king, released
him, and restored him to the regency over his
infant son. For this essential service good
Yoritomo was made a sort of field-marshal,
or Ziogoon. The ex-Mikado dying, left Yoritomo
the guardian of his son; and so for twenty years
the Ziogoon was regent. Infant Mikados
still continuing to be the fashion, regency
became hereditary to the Ziogoons; and these
last being men, it eventually came to pass
that the Mikado was stripped of all power,
and converted into a magnificent doll, while
the real court was transferred to Jeddo, where
the Ziogoons reside. Retributive justice we
shall meet with in a little while, but we have
now reached Miyako, the Mikado's residence,
and nominally still the capital of Nippon.

Poor Mikado, what a miserable honour he
must think it is to be divine! He represents
the sun goddess on earth, and is required to sit
upon his throne quite still, and without moving
his head for several hours every day, lest the
whole earth should be unsteady. When not
sitting, he must leave his crown upon the
throne to keep watch in his absence. Being
so very holy, he is deprived of all use of his
legs; earth is not worthy of his tread. His
nails and hair are never cut—- for who may
mutilate a god? Every article of dress that
he puts on must be bran new; his plates, and
cups, and dishes, everything he touches at a
meal—- even the kitchen utensils used in cooking
for him—- must not be used twice, and of
course no profane man may employ what has
been sanctified by the Mikado's use. Whatever
clothes he puts off are immediately
burned; his pots and vessels are destroyed.
This hourly waste being a heavy pull on the
finances of the Ziogoon, the divine victim gets
only the coarsest slops to dress in, and eats off
the cheapest crockery. No wonder that he
still keeps up the fashion of resigning. His
palace is circumscribed with palisades, and an
officer residing without the gate spies all his
actions, and reports them to the Ziogoon. Still
the poor fellow is divine. The gods, it is
believed, all spend a month at his place,
during which month they are not at home in
their own temples, and worship is accordingly
suspended. The Mikado grants religious
titles, fixes feasts and fasts, and settles
doctrinal disputes. Thus there arose once schism
in Japan about the colour of the devil. Four
factions respectively declared him to be black,
white, red, and green. The theologic knot
was given to the Mikado that day to unravel,
who, knowing the obstinacy of theologians
well, declared all parties to be right; and so
the devil of Japan remains to this day a four-
coloured monster. Offices of state in the
Mikado's court—- the Dairi it is called—- are
above all in honour, objects of ambition even
to the Ziogoon. The dwellers in the Dairi
with the holy prisoner, both male and female,
are the most refined and cultivated Japanese.
From their ranks are supplied the poets of
the land, who sing the beauties of the rapid
Oyewaga, or legends of the snow-capped Foesi.

Miyako is the classic ground, the Athens, of
Japan. But we must go on to the Japanese