present unrest and strife which clouds the future of China with uncertainty, we discern the workings of a fundamental New England belief,-that nothing is ever finally settled until it is settled right. "Y being." "Y OU have gained for yourself a lasting name without shedding a drop of blood or inflicting misery on a human WASHINGTON IRVING, to Commodore Perry. OU have won additional fame for yourself, reflected new honor upon the very honorable service to which you belong, and we all hope have secured for your country, for commerce, and for civilization a triumph the blessings of which may be enjoyed by generations yet unborn." THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY, to Commodore Perry. CHAPTER XVIII NEW ENGLAND AND JAPAN A July Sunday morning in the Bay of Yedo, 1853. The sun rises upon an unprecedented scene. Four United States men-of-war, the Mississippi, the Susquehanna, the Plymouth and the Saratoga lie at anchor in Japanese waters, hitherto unplowed by the keel of any American steamer. From the headlands and the beaches Japanese watchers are scanning the strange black hulks out in the harbor and letting no detail escape them. This is the third day since in stately formation they sailed into the Bay, dropping anchor off Uraga, and forming a line broadside to the shore. The port-holes were then opened and large guns run out. But there had been no occasion for their use in the two days since their arrival. Yet an air of impenetrable mystery, which from the start surrounded the ships, continued to make them the object of the keenest curiosity and concern on the part of the Japanese on shore. Still more puzzling were the events of these three days. The Japanese had been allowed to visit the ships on the first two days, but today the edict went forth that no business would be transacted. However, spy-glasses were available and from their posts of observation the Japanese saw a group gather on the deck of the Mississippi around an improvised reading stand, where lay a big book, from which a man, clad in a gown, read. Then the bystanders lowered their heads as he offered prayer. Then a hymn was sung, in which many lusty voices joined, supported by the band, which played a loud accompaniment. There in sight of heathen temples, and for the first time in the history of Japan, Old Hundred echoed and re-echoed over the waters. Isaac Watts' majestic hymn, beginning Before Jehovah's awful throne, Ye nations bow with sacred joy; was never sung under such unusual circumstances. It was the right hymn to sing at a time when international history was being made, and when Commodore Matthew Calbraith Perry was opening the gates of Japan to the western nations and to modern civilization. Another American commodore, not born in New England, might have been commanding the Pacific squadron at this time and such a man might have given out the same hymn and issued equally strict orders for the observance of the Sabbath day in a strange |