volcanic formation, nearly every where rising into sharp and lofty cones, from which smoke and flame perpetually issue. In many places we find the craters of extinct volcanoes, with clefts and vast caverns, from which is obtained an inexhaustible supply of sulphur.

But notwithstanding that the general character of the country is mountainous, a sufficiency of level land is found to be applied to the cultivation of rice, which is confessedly the best in Asia, and, upon comparison, will probably be found to yield in no respects to the finest from Carolina. During the period of the civil wars, when agriculture was greatly neglected, Japan scarcely raised a sufficient quantity of rice, or any other grain, for native consumption, but since the complete establishment of internal peace, a great change and numerous improvements have been effected; so that if its ports were thrown open to-morrow, an immense supply might there be obtained, both of rice and flour. The progress made by the Japanese in the culture of the soil may be adduced as a proof that they are not a stationary people. When the Jesuits first arrived, their agriculture was of the rudest description, so that thousands were driven to have recourse to the wild herbs spontaneously produced by the earth, while the finest lands lay fallow. At present, wherever cultivation is practicable, the whole group resembles a garden. The sides of the mountains are cultivated in terraces, which rise one above another to the very summit, and present the most luxuriant picture upon which the eye can repose.

In the south nearly all the fruits of the tropics are found in abundance, while the northern provinces greatly resemble in their productions the less favoured climates of Europe. For the olive, and we believe the vine also, Japan is indebted to the Jesuits. When the latter was introduced seems not to be exactly known, but they would appear to have brought the former along with them so early as the middle of the sixteenth century; so that whenever a Japanese looks upon that tree of peace, he must, we should think, remember the good fathers with a feeling of pleasure.

On the most recent visit of the English, several natives expressed a wish to obtain a few grains of the rice of India, that they might make an experiment on its cultivation, but were afraid to accept at the same time of a number of European seeds which were offered them, lest upon the growth of the plants they should be discovered to have held intercourse with foreigners; and on that account, be fined or put to death. In the case of the rice there was no danger, because, though the grains might be smaller, or otherwise exhibit some slight differences, sufficient grounds would not exist for instituting a criminal process against them.

Among the articles which enter into the trade of Japan with China, several extremely curious ones are enumerated; for example, red and yellow pearls, and an artificial imitation of the edible birds' nests, on which the Chinese set so high a value. No country in the world, perhaps, could export so large a quantity of ambergris, together with many other ingredients used in the manufacture of costly perfumes. Valuable materials for dyeing, also, with the most beautiful varnishes and hemp, and a variety of salt provisions, enter into the exports of Japan, which would take in return almost all the goods of Europe and India.

Its sword-blades, if we may rely on the testimony of the Dutch, excel in edge and temper those of Damascus itself; but they are among the articles the exportation of which is prohibited, though some few rare specimens, smuggled at great risk on board the Dutch ships, are exhibited in the Royal Museum at the Hague.

The writer in The Augsburgh Gazette, to whose lucubrations we have already referred, conceives it to be very greatly for the interest of the Dutch to oppose the commercial views of Great Britain. From this observation it might, perhaps, be inferred that the trade of our neighbours with that empire is a thing of considerable magnitude, conducted on a liberal footing, and peculiarly honourable to the people who alone, among Europeans, are permitted to visit that country. But what is the actual state of the case? There exists, properly speaking, no

intercourse between Holland and Japan. Eleven Dutchmen, without wives or servants, are suffered to vegetate from year to year on a diminutive artificial islet, built like a breakwater, at a short distance from the shore, in the harbour of Nangasaki. Here, imprisoned and treated like criminals, that is to say, with every sort of contumely and indignity, the Dutchmen ply their contemptible traffic, overlooked, snubbed, insulted, trampled upon by the meanest of the Japanese functionaries. The Jews in Europe during the middle ages were not subjected to more ignominious treatment. The chief of the factory, some years ago, took along with him his young wife from Batavia. On her arrival she was constrained to submit to personal examination like a man, and afterwards, as soon as the imperial pleasure could be known, was re-embarked with her child and nurse, and transported, like a malefactor, back to Java. The Governor of Nangasaki thinks, apparently, that the admission of European or Javanese wives would diminish the demand for the native article, the captive Hollanders being at present compelled to connect themselves, in some fleeting kind of matrimony, with the least reputable females of Japan, who alone are suffered to live with or serve them. Even these wretched creatures are the victims of perpetual persecution, not being suffered to bring forth children or die on the island. When near their confinement, or on their death-bed, they are seized by the police and carried, perhaps in their last agonies, to die on the main land. The children are educated and the corpses buried at the expense of the Dutch, who may be said to be almost equally ignorant of the fate of both.

We should be glad to know, therefore, whether or not Holland has great reason to be proud of the exception made in its favour by Japan! We mean, of course, with reference to European nations, because the Chinese enjoy still greater privileges, being allowed to send annually twelve junks to Nangasaki, while the Dutch are restricted to two vessels. But the Celestials themselves would appear to receive little more dignified treatment than the Dutchmen, though allowed to reside on shore in a small

quarter of the town appropriated exclusively to them. Through these poor caitiffs the broadcloths of England and the piece-goods of Hindustan find their way, in very small quantities, into the Japanese empire, which, if delivered from the villanous system of restriction that now oppresses it, would multiply its consumption ten thousand fold.

But then comes the question, Is it probable, since all attempts hitherto made have failed, that a commercial mission despatched at this moment would be crowned with success? If properly organised and conducted by an able man, we make no doubt of it. Look at the circumstances under which Englishmen have made their appearance in Japan ever since the reign of Charles II. Cook's expedition sailed down the eastern coast of Nipon after the death of the great navigator, but sought to enter into no negotiations. Twelve years later Captain Colnet, in a vessel of 400 tons, did all, perhaps, that a private individual could do; but being invested with no public authority, could hardly have been expected to carry his point. The same remark may be applied to the efforts made in 1803, 1813, and 1818, though, on the last occasion, the Japanese government long hesitated before it reiterated its refusal. Captain Pelew's enterprise in 1808 can only be referred to as an untoward affair. He attempted little, and achieved nothing; and the same thing, we fear, will have to be repeated as often as naval officers shall be despatched, uncontrolled, on such services.

When the whole history of our intercourse with Japan, or rather of our non-intercourse, comes to be examined, the discovery is made that we have neglected that valuable market altogether. Not a single diplomatic mission has ever been sent thither, nor has any step been taken that could have led us to hope for success. However weak or pitiful the Japanese government may be, it could not be expected to relinquish its hereditary policy at the summons of a mere sea-captain in a vessel little larger than a boat, for the craft in which Captain Gordon visited Yedo in 1818 was only of fifty-six tons burden; yet being a shrewd man, of affable temper and

pleasant manners, he was within an ace of effecting his purpose. At the requisition of a humble clipper, the sovereign of Japan consented to reconsider the laws of his empire; and though he at last determined to abide by them, he manifestly came to that resolution with reluctance. Had a judicious envoy been there in his stead in a first-rate line-of-battle ship, with a frigate and two or three war-steamers, the imperial decision would no doubt have been different. Not that such a force could overawe the emperor-the supposition is ridiculous; but, from the magnificence of the mission, he would infer the greatness of the country by which it was sent, his pride would be soothed, and, finding himself appealed to like a great monarch, he would think it for his dignity and credit to yield. This, at least, is the point of view in which the press of this country contemplates the proposed mission to Japan. There is among us no idea of employing brute force in order to extort a permission to trade, but, knowing the character of Oriental princes, aware of their veneration for pomp and splendour, we conceive it would be well worth the while of Great Britain to employ some portion of its navy to enlarge incalculably the commerce of the country.

But should the thing be determined on, we would deprecate most earnestly the idea of selecting either a naval or military man to conduct the business of the mission. This would be imprudent on many grounds. In the first place, such diplomatists are too apt to infuse into political transactions the uncouth manners of the camp or quarter-deck; and if they avoided this error, as in many cases they doubtless might, there would still, in the second place, be the objection arising from the very nature of their professions, which the emperor might suppose to convey a

menace.

The individual sent out as our envoy ought to be a statesman acquainted with the laws, history, character, and manners of the Japanese, and in other respects qualified to win upon their good feelings. The magnificence of his position would

ensure him a hearing; and if he used his opportunity skilfully, there would scarcely be a chance of failure. The history of our Indian empire, to which the continental writers refer with a sneer, would in no way interfere with his diplomacy. He might challenge the court of Yedo to scrutinise it; and with still greater confidence he might point to the Chinese war, during which, when the sceptre of a vast empire was laid at our feet we refused to pick it up, and contented ourselves with the cession of a barren rock, and permission to trade as merchants. It might be further proved that we seek not the multiplication of colonies and dependencies; and in lieu of making imperial settlements, even when surrounded by the most powerful incentives, we content ourselves with naval stations and emporiums, as at Labuan, on the north-west coast of Kalamantan. In the course of the negotiation, however, should the introduction of unpleasant topics be found advisable, he might allude to the facility with which we could take possession of Quelpart's Island, and from thence command the whole coasting_trade and external relations of Japan. This topic would, of course, be kept in the back-ground until every other should have been dwelt on in vain ; though, as a last resource, it might be made to tell. Still we by no means expect that it would be needed, because, considering the position now occupied by Great Britain, and the character she every where enjoys in Asia, our persuasion is that Japan would cheerfully accede to our request, and save us the trouble of lengthened arguments. At all events, a case has been clearly made out in favour of trying the experiment, which, if brought to a fortunate issue, would provide a vast outlet for British manufactures, and tend at the same time to enrich us and civilise the Japanese empire. It is earnestly to be hoped, therefore, that ministers will take the matter into consideration, more especially as the idea, though originating with the press, has been unequivocally adopted by public opinion.

(There's a poet for putting much into a small compass!)-Like a City apprentice of the Jin Vin school, we look upon the lord-mayor as next in importance to the queen herself. There is no putting us out of conceit with the honourable importance of the office, though the Court of Common Council has not been of late years scrupulously careful in considering the character of the person next in rotation for the honours of the chair. An uncertain sort of reputation seems to have carried weight with the larger body of that very varied constituency-nor could a surer way be found for bringing the office, nay, the corporation itself, into contempt, than by selecting an individual for the chair whose character, to say the least of it, is a little under a cloud. But Carroll is a proper choice-a real old English Carroll, as he is, or as Mr. Sandys would call him, a Christmas Carol-and a very good one too.

We have a liking for a lord-mayor, one who is every foot a mayor (inches in lord-mayors are altogether out of the question). Thus, for instance, Henry Fitz-Alwin, the first lord-mayor, continued mayor from the first of Richard I. till the fifteenth of King John, which was twenty-four years and more. Nicholas Faringdon, a goldsmith, has given his name to the two great wards, Faringdon Within and Faringdon

Without-nearly a fourth of the whole City. William Walworth, a stock-fishmonger by trade, has immortalised his name, and the valour of the City, by the knock on the head which he gave Wat Tyler. Richard Whittington, a mercer, and three times lord-mayor, has a reputation as lasting as our penny chapbooks-and one that is known, not only

"Far as loud Bow's stupendous bells resound,"

but beyond the bars and liberties of the City. Henry Barton, a skinner, was the first who attended to the lighting of the City, and "ordained lanthorns with lights to be hanged out on the winter evening betwixt All-Hallowtide and Candlemas." Simon Eyre, a draper, was the lordmayor who built the Leadenhall (hence the market of that name), as a garner for the City. John Norman, draper, was the first mayor that was rowed to Westminster by water, for before his time (1453) they rode on horseback. Sir John Sha, goldsmith, was the first who kept his feast in the Guildhall, for before his time (1501) the dinner was given in either the Grocers' Hall or the Hall of the Merchant Tailors. This Sir John Sha also added a kitchen to the conveniences at Guildhall: he was, therefore, in some people's thinking, the first lord-mayor who fully understood the duties and obligations of his office.

"Great men have been among us,"

a citizen may sing with Wordsworth. Our London lord-mayors have come of a goodly race-our London ap. prentices.

"For at the siege of Tours in France They shewed themselves brave Englishmen ;

At Bullen, too, they did advance

St. George's lusty standard then.
Let Tourine, Tournay, and those towns
That good King Henry nobly won,
Tell London's prentices' renowns,
And of the deeds of them there done."
But if we begin to prattle about

as a poet within Temple Bar sung of a lord-mayor's day when Elizabeth was queen.

The city of London and good living, a common councilman and a sirloin, a sheriff and a second helping, an alderman and a tureen of turtle, and a lord-mayor and plenty to eat, seem inseparable companions. You cannot think of a common hall without an uncommon dinner, or a lordmayor living, like George III., on a boiled neck of mutton and turnips. Barons of beef, and whole hogs barbacued-quantity and quality bothbelong by descent to the civic chair. As for an inhospitable alderman, one under weight, thin and spare, and long, and lank, and lean, there is no conceiving for a moment that such a specimen could exist. One can fancy a man with a tail, and all Monboddo believed, much sooner. But still such things as un-lordlike lord-mayors may be found in the catalogue of our City functionaries. A late lord-mayor, like a late prime minister, let his fires out, his spits rust, and City hospitality cease for a time, to be a proverb. A factious sheriff, commemorated by Dryden, was famous for the mean and scandalous shrievalty which he kept :

"No Rechabite more shunn'd the fumes of wine;

Chaste were his cellars, and his shrieval board

The grossness of a city feast abhorr'd; His cooks, with long disuse, their trade forgot

Cool was his kitchen, though his brains were hot."

His name was Slingsby Bethell, and the poor shrievalty which he kept has found a lasting celebrity in a satire like Absalom and Achitophel.

The money allowed to the lordmayor for the maintenance of the duties and hospitalities of his office, is 8000l. This, it is said, is more than enough:-mayors with cool kitchens may put money by. But the question arises, What are the duties of the office of lord-mayor? He sits and dispenses justice at the Mansion House, as cheaply as Mr. Hardwick in Bow Street, or Mr. Norton at Whitechapel. He is never called upon, like mayors in former times, for a large sum of money to help forward a subsidy or loan to his sovereign. He has no City conduits to run with wine, or banqueting houses at Bayswater to store with the rich viands which City appetites demand. He has no henchboys or whifflers to maintain; ridings to run away with money; pasteboard giants to preserve from rats, or poor City poets from poverty and want. What, then, are his expenses? He has to pay, we are told, 1500l., before he receives a farthing of the 80007. This, however, is no great hardship; the interest is very small, and the repayment a matter of absolute certainty. Then the great dinner at Guildhall is an expensive affair. We have no doubt of this: here is his first great outlay. But what a day it is! He is surrounded by the ministers of his sovereign, ambassadors from foreign powers, and all the great functionaries of the law. He hears compliments on all sides, and sees joyous faces (still joyously improving for that night, at least) whenever he looks before him. Surely the expense of the dinner never occurs to him for a moment! He only wishes that the Guildhall was larger, and that he could see the whole of the City companies (with and without halls), from the Twelve Great Companies, as they are called, down to the Patten Makers and Parish Clerks, his guests on this occasion. Then he has a house (a Mansion House) set apart for him, and all the furniture (somewhat dingy and dusty, it is true) which a lord-mayor, not a connoisseur in such matters, is likely to require. But then he has, it is urged on the other hand, twenty-five servants to maintain, and all that is ate and drunk to pay for before his mayoralty is out. Then he has his Easter dinners in the Egyptian Hall,