. The mikado's empire. as afterward re-peated many times. Every spot made famous by Yoritomo, Yoshit-sune, Semman and Kugio, the Hojo, Nitta Yoshisada, Nichiren, and theAshikaga, was seen over and over again, until the life of old Japanbecame as vivid to me as the thrilling scenes of our own late the architectural remains of these classic places, is a rich mu-seum of armor, weapons, and other mediaeval antiquities in the templeon Tsuruga-oka, in Kamakura. On our ride back, Fuji, all in white, loomed up grandly. A flurryof snow added to its beauty. In such a snow-shower the artist m
. The mikado's empire. as afterward re-peated many times. Every spot made famous by Yoritomo, Yoshit-sune, Semman and Kugio, the Hojo, Nitta Yoshisada, Nichiren, and theAshikaga, was seen over and over again, until the life of old Japanbecame as vivid to me as the thrilling scenes of our own late the architectural remains of these classic places, is a rich mu-seum of armor, weapons, and other mediaeval antiquities in the templeon Tsuruga-oka, in Kamakura. On our ride back, Fuji, all in white, loomed up grandly. A flurryof snow added to its beauty. In such a snow-shower the artist musthave made the spirited sketch here reproduced. Snow rarely falls onthe Tokaido to a depth greater than two inches, and usually neitherhoof nor sandal, as in the cut, sinks beneath its level. The Japanese,however, make a great fuss over a little cold. They go about withtheir hands in their sleeves, which stick out like the wings of a trussedturkey, repeating samui, samui (cold, cold), until it loses all Travelers on the Tokaido in a Snow-storm. Fuji san. IN THE HEABT OF JAPAN, 405 VII. IN THE HEART OF JAPAN. The weather was rough as we embarked, late in the afternoon ofFebruary 22d, on the Oregonian, and steamed down the Bay of night, the fixed white Hght in the stone tower on Cape Idzu, visi-ble twenty miles, reminded us of the new order of things. Of old awood-fire blazed on the promontory. The Nil did not yet know thefate to befall her.* The next day was foggy, and mal de mer held high revel amongthe passengers. The Oregonian was true to the reputation of itsnamesake given by Bryant— where rolls the mighty Oregon. Myown thoughts were less poetic. My feelings are best described bythe Japanese proverb, A sea-voyage is an inch of hell. About midnight we rounded the promontory of Kii, where Jimmupassed centuries ago. Its splendid light-house, on a promontory onehundred and thirty feet high, on 0 Island, holds a revolving whitelight, alternately flashin
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