provisions, as they concerned Russia, were that there should be an evacuation of Manchuria, leaving the Russian leases in the Liao-tung peninsula, together with the railway and other assets of the territory, in the hands of Japan. Russia was also to cede to the victor that part of the island of Sakhalin which was south of the fiftieth parallel of latitude, known as Karafuto. Possibly, had Komura held out, he might have won the whole. But Russia agreed not to fortify any part of the adjacent straits, and to allow the Japanese fishing-privileges along the shores of Behring Sea. Finally, Russia conceded to Japan the military, political, and economic dominance in Korea.

Whatever disappointment the treaty brought to the Japanese people, through absence of an indemnity and the failure to secure all Sakhalin, it was plain that Japan had won a very substantial victory. Russian foreign policy, making for the hegemony of Eastern Asia, had received a decisive check. In this respect, as in the case of the British wars with China in 1839 and 1858, the United States received advantage from a campaign in which she had taken no part. Nevertheless, the doom of the Northern Colossus had by no means been as yet pronounced. It was soon manifest that, in order to offset the efforts of American Secretaries of State - no longer acting with European preparation and coöperation -to obtain the neutralization of the Manchurian railways, it was to Japan's interest to come to some agreement with her former adversary. At first it seemed unlikely that Japan, without an indemnity, would be able to finance the railroads in question, and accordingly certain financial interests were looking for an opening. But Japan was fearful of the consequences of international participation, after losing the fruits of her victory in 1895. So she signed with Russia, July 30, 1907, the convention "of mutual respect for treaty and territorial rights, and guaranteeing the integrity of China." The danger of further conflict in the Far East removed, Russia was free to settle matters to the westward by a convention with Great Britain, which divided

Persia into spheres of influence and arranged other affairs to mutual satisfaction.

Prior to the Great War, we have only one further manifestation of the old imperialistic spirit of Russia in Asia. This was in connection with Mongolia. Even before the Chinese Revolution of 1911, there was in that country a nationalistic movement which looked to Russia for sympathy and to the Living Buddha as civil and religious head. With the Revolution a fact, an autonomous government was at once set up at Urga. The Russians recognized this without delay and concluded a treaty with the Hutukhtu, or Living Buddha, in November 1912, without the slightest reference to the suzerain government. Subsequent negotiations, however, on the eve of the Great War, led to a tripartite agreement by which Outer Mongolia was left under the nominal overlordship of China, while admittedly autonomous. Russia, moreover, was made free to develop railways, finance, and communications. How far this freedom would gradually have destroyed the assumed independence of Mongolia had not the war brought with it the downfall of the Russian Empire, is among the might-havebeens, as to which speculation is vain.

CHAPTER XV

JAPAN TO THE TREATY OF PORTSMOUTH

1

It has been made abundantly clear by a Japanese historian 1 that during the period of the Tokugawa Shoguns Japan was by no means either reactionary or even stationary. A very solid edifice had been created from the quarry opened by Nobunaga, with stones hewn by Hideyoshi, polished from the rough-cut by the able statesmanship of Iyeyasu. The two and a half centuries of this rule were definitely constructive and definitely preparatory to the progress of the Meiji era. The three cultural currents of the knightly classes of Yedo, the courtly classes of Kyoto, and the commercial classes of Osaka all contributed to the forward-looking attitude of the whole nation. Moreover, the long period of peace was conclusive evidence of the fact that Japan was not an aggressively militaristic empire.

Yet we have already seen some signs that the impressive fabric reared by the genius of the first Tokugawa was not quite secure against the inroads of time. Rifts were appearing in more than one direction. To change our metaphor, "the torch which had succeeded in giving blissful light to illumine the whole nation, burned at last the torchbearer himself with its blazing flame."

Illustrations of this are to be found in a number of things. For example, when Mitsukuni Tokugawa, lord of Mito, wrote his Great History of Japan,2 he could not help revealing to a

1 See Hara, Introduction to History of Japan.

"Dai Nihon-shi." See Brinkley, History of the Japanese People, p. 645.

growing number of readers the illegitimacy of the Shogunal claims. When Motoori and others inaugurated the "Japanese School of Learning," they established the same rather unwelcome truth. When, again, the students of Dutch medicine made their surreptitious visits to Nagasaki and Deshima, they learned much of Western lore besides its science.1

Meanwhile other things, operating from outside, were tending in a like direction. There was the extension of American commerce to the Orient, which we have already discussed in connection with China. With ships plying across the Pacific, shipwrecked sailors stranded on the Japanese coast were becoming more and more numerous, and several suggestions were made as to how they might be repatriated. In connection with one of these, the projected sending of the Morrison, we get an interesting glimpse of the men whom we may fitly call the Japanese martyrs. While outsiders were beginning to knock at the closed doors, there were those within who were clamoring for the doors to be opened by Japan herself. This episode has had only a small place in the current histories of Japan, but it is well worth our while to devote a paragraph to it.

to

For the most part the men in question lived and died " the cause they served unknown," but from their prison they toiled to make the walls thinner, that the outside light might break in. R. L. Stevenson described one of these heroes in his Familiar Studies of Men and Books. It will be good to mention another. Takano Nagahide was born in 1804 and in 1820 fled from the house of his adopted father to pursue learning. He barely avoided starvation by practising massage at night after a strenuous day of study at the schools. After a time he became a student of Dutch medicine, and while gathering herbs over the countryside he became impressed with the poverty and misery of the people. He had at times to sell himself in order to pay his debts, but eventually Takano reached

Nagasaki, where the famous Bavarian, Dr. Siebold, had lately arrived. He continued here to work and write for the redemption of his country from misrule. A list of fifty-seven works, in 213 volumes, includes such subjects as: A Treatise on Analytical Chemistry; On Pneumonia; On Ulcers; A Treatise on Coast Defense; On Soap; The Essentials of Gunnery, and the like. But the most important of all, epoch-making in its influence on the reopening of Japan, was the Yume Monogatari (Story of a Dream), in which the author, having got wind of the expected coming of the Morrison, defended the idea of foreign intercourse. From that day to the end Nagahide led the life of a hunted criminal, imprisoned, escaping only to be recaptured through the treachery of one to whom he had been benefactor. When the fugitive found the police upon his track, he made the necessary preparations, and with all the old heroic etiquette took the high way of the samurai out of life. Such a summary does little justice to a great career; but sometime the life and death of Takano Nagahide, Kwazan Watanabe, and their fellows will be worthily told.

Meanwhile, the ships of the foreigners were more and more insistently appearing on the coasts of Japan. The Shogun began to realize that he was between the hammer and the anvil. With all his desire to maintain inviolate the seclusion of Japan, none knew better the weakness of the land in the face of the "black ships." The Morrison came in 1837, but was fired upon in Yedo Bay. Its merciful mission only served to intensify the general unrest. The failure of Commodore Biddle has been already mentioned. In 1849 the Preble came to Nagasaki to take off the survivors of the Lawrence and Ladoga, together with Ranald McDonald of Astoria, whose story is a romance by itself.1 All these things (to which should have been prefixed the capture of the Russian, Captain Golownin2 of the Diana, with his crew, and to which may be added the visit of a French

1 See Life of Ranald McDonald, by Mrs. Eva Dye. Also McDonald's Journal, ed. by Lewis.

2 See Golownin, Japan and the Japanese.