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+Project Gutenberg's Flash-lights from the Seven Seas, by William L. Stidger
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Flash-lights from the Seven Seas
+
+Author: William L. Stidger
+
+Commentator: Bishop Francis J. McConnell
+
+Release Date: October 14, 2008 [EBook #26924]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLASH-LIGHTS FROM THE SEVEN SEAS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ronald Lee
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS
+FROM THE SEVEN SEAS
+
+WILLIAM L. STIDGER
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: MT. TAISHAN, CHINA, SAID TO BE THE OLDEST WORSHIPPING
+PLACE ON EARTH.]
+
+
+
+
+  FLASH-LIGHTS
+  FROM THE SEVEN SEAS
+
+
+  BY
+  WILLIAM L. STIDGER
+
+  AUTHOR OF "STANDING ROOM ONLY," "STAR
+  DUST FROM THE DUGOUTS," "OUTDOOR
+  MEN AND MINDS," ETC.
+
+
+  WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
+
+  BISHOP FRANCIS J. McCONNELL
+
+
+  ILLUSTRATED
+  FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY
+  THE AUTHOR
+
+
+  NEW YORK
+  GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+  COPYRIGHT, 1921,
+  BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
+
+
+  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+
+  DEDICATED TO
+
+  MARY I. SCOTT
+
+  A WOMAN FRIEND
+  WHO PUSHED BACK THE HORIZONS OF
+  THE WORLD AND LED ME TO THE
+  BEGINNING OF THE TRAIL THAT
+  HAS NO END: THE TRAIL OF
+  DREAMS AND TRAVEL
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+BY BISHOP FRANCIS J. McCONNELL
+
+
+The Rev. William L. Stidger is one of the most thoroughly alive men in
+the ministry today. He sees quickly, reacts instantaneously, and knows
+how to bring others to a like alertness of mental and spiritual seizure.
+If it be said of him that he is impressionistic it must be remembered
+that the impressions are made on a mind of sound purpose and
+communicated to others for the sake of the truth behind the impression.
+His narratives of travel do not belong in the guide-book category or in
+that of the scientific geography. But if you wish to know what it would
+be like to visit yourself the countries described, the reading of Mr.
+Stidger's sketches will help you. If it be said that what one after all
+is getting is the Stidger view, it must not be forgotten that the
+Stidger view is marvellously vital and enkindling. The Stidger vitality
+is bracing and health-giving. It is a tonic for all of us who are
+getting a little old and sluggish. The contagion of youth and energy are
+in this book: it will reach and stir all who read.
+
+
+FRANCIS J. MCCONNELL
+
+_Pittsburgh, Pa._
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+
+That vast stretch of opal islands; jade continents; sapphire seas of
+strange sunsets; mysterious masses of brown-skinned humanity;
+brown-eyed, full-breasted, full-lipped and full-hipped women; which we
+call the Orient, can only be caught by the photographer's art in
+flash-light pictures.
+
+It is like a photograph taken in the night. It cannot be clear cut. It
+cannot have clean outlines. It can only be a blurred mass of humanity
+with burdens on their shoulders; humanity bent to the ground; creaking
+carts; weary-eyed children and women; moving, moving, moving; like
+phantom shadow-shapes; in and out; one great maze through the majestic
+ages; one confused history of the ancient past; emerging; but not yet
+out into the sunlight!
+
+Such masses of humanity; such dim, uncertain origins of unfathered
+races; these can only be caught and seen as through a glass darkly.
+
+Paul Hutchinson, my friend, in "The Atlantic Monthly" says of China what
+is true of the whole Orient:
+
+    "In this vast stretch of country, with its poor communications,
+    we can only know in part. When one sets out to generalize he
+    does so at his own peril. The only consolation is that it is
+    almost impossible to disprove any statement; for, however
+    fantastical, it is probably in accord with the facts in some
+    part of the land."
+
+The facts, fancies, and fallacies of this book are gleaned from the
+rovings and ramblings of a solid year of over fifty-five thousand miles
+of travel; through ten separate countries: Japan, Korea, China, the
+Philippine Islands, French Indo-China, the Malay States, Borneo, Java,
+Sumatra and the Hawaiian Islands; across seven seas: the Pacific Ocean,
+the Sea of Japan, the North China Sea, the Yellow Sea, the South China
+Sea, the Malacca Straits, and the Sea of Java; after visiting five wild
+and primitive tribes: the Ainu Indians of Japan, the Igorrotes of the
+Philippines, the Negritos of the same islands; the Dyaks of Borneo, and
+the Battaks of Sumatra; face to face by night and day with new races,
+new faces, new problems, new aspirations, new ways of doing things, new
+ways of living, new evils, new sins, new cruelties, new fears, new
+degradations; new hopes, new days, new ways, new nations arising; new
+gods, and a new God!
+
+When one comes back from such a trip, having fortified himself with the
+reading of many books written about these far lands, in addition to his
+travel, one still has the profound conviction that, after all is said,
+done, and thought out, the only honest way to picture these vast
+stretches of land and humanity is to confess that all is in motion; like
+a great mass of bees in a hive, one on top of the other, busy at
+buzzing, buying, selling, living, dying, climbing, achieving; groping in
+the dark; moving upward by an unerring instinct toward the light.
+
+At nights I cannot sleep for thinking about that weird, dim, misty
+panorama of fleeting, flashing pictures; those thousands of Javanese
+that I saw down in Sourabaya, who have never known what it means to have
+a home; who sleep in doorways by night, and along the river banks; where
+mothers give birth to children, who in turn live and die out under the
+open sky. Nor can I forget that animal-like beggar in Canton who dug
+into a gutter for his food; or those hideous beggars, by winter along
+the railway in Shantung; or the naked one-year-old child covered with
+sores which a beggar woman in the Chinese section of Shanghai held to
+her own naked breast. Those pictures and a thousand others abide.
+
+One has the feeling that if he could go back, again, and again, and
+again to these far shores, and live with these peoples and die with
+them, then he would begin faintly to understand what it all means and
+where it is all headed.
+
+And this author, for one, is honest in saying that, in spite of careful
+investigation, in spite of extensive travel and a sympathetic heart, he
+sees but dimly. The very glory of it all, the age of it all, the wonder
+of it all, the mysterious beauty and thrill of it all; the thrill of
+these masses of humanity, their infinite possibilities for future
+greatness; like a great blinding flash of glory, dims one's eyes for a
+time.
+
+But, now, that he has, through quiet meditation and perspective, had a
+chance to develop the films of thought, he finds that he has brought
+back home pictures that one ought not to keep to one's self; especially
+in this day, when, what happens to Asia is so largely to determine what
+happens to America.
+
+So, out of the dark room, where they have been developing for a year,
+and out of the dim shadows of that mysterious land whence they came,
+they are printed and at the bottom of each picture shall be written the
+humble words:
+
+    "Flash-Lights from the Seven Seas"
+
+
+WILLIAM L. STIDGER.
+
+_Detroit, Michigan._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                      PAGE
+
+        INTRODUCTION BY BISHOP FRANCIS J. MCCONNELL    vii
+
+        FOREWORD                                        ix
+
+CHAPTER
+
+      I FLASH-LIGHTS OF FLAME                           19
+
+     II FLASH-LIGHTS PHYSICAL                           33
+
+    III FLASH-LIGHTS OF FAITH                           49
+
+     IV FLASH-LIGHTS OF FEAR                            63
+
+      V FLASH-LIGHTS OF FRIGHTFULNESS                   79
+
+     VI FEMININE FLASH-LIGHTS                          101
+
+    VII FLASH-LIGHTS OF FUN                            123
+
+   VIII FLASH-LIGHTS OF FREEDOM                        145
+
+     IX FLASH-LIGHTS OF FAILURE                        165
+
+      X FLASH-LIGHTS OF FRIENDSHIP                     189
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+  MT. TAISHAN, THE OLDEST WORSHIPPING PLACE
+    ON EARTH                                   _Frontispiece_
+
+                                                         PAGE
+
+  THE WALLED CITY OF MANILA                                48
+
+  BEAUTIFUL FILIPINO GIRLS                                 48
+
+  KOREAN GIRLS WITH AMERICAN IDEALS AND TRAINING           49
+
+  STEPPING ASIDE IN KOREA                                  49
+
+  CONFUCIUS TOMB AT CHUFU, CHINA                           64
+
+  RUIN OF THE MING TOMBS                                   64
+
+  GRINDING RICE IN CHINA                                   65
+
+  A CAMEL TRAIN ENTERING PEKING                            65
+
+  THE TEMPLE OF HEAVEN, PEKING                            112
+
+  A BEAUTIFUL THIRTEEN-STORY PAGODA NEAR PEKING           112
+
+  A WAYSIDE TEMPLE AND SHRINE                             113
+
+  A SUNRISE SILHOUETTE, JAVA                              113
+
+  OLD BROMO VOLCANO, JAVA                                 128
+
+  A SIDE VIEW OF BEAUTIFUL BOROBOEDOER, JAVA              128
+
+  NAKED AND OTHERWISE                                     129
+
+  A DOG MARKET                                            129
+
+
+
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS FROM THE SEVEN SEAS
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FLAME
+
+
+Fire! Fire! Fire everywhere!
+
+Fire in the sky, fire on the sea, fire on the ships, fire in the
+flowers, fire in the trees of the forest; fire in the Poinsetta bushes
+which flash their red flames from every yard and jungle.
+
+In the tropical lands flowers do not burst into blossom; they burst into
+flame. Great bushes of flaming Poinsetta, as large as American lilac
+bushes, burst into flame over night in Manila.
+
+That great tree, as large as an Oak, which they call "The Flame of the
+Forest," looks like a tree on fire with flowers. One will roam the world
+over and see nothing more beautiful than this great tree which looks
+like a massive umbrella of solid flame.
+
+Every flower in the Orient seems to be a crimson flower. The tropical
+heat of the Philippines, Java, Borneo, Sumatra, the Malay States and
+India's far reaches; with beautiful Ceylon, and Burma; seems to give
+birth to crimson child-flowers.
+
+The sunsets burst into bloom, as well as the flowers. There is no region
+on earth where sunsets flare into birth and die in a flash-light of
+glory and beauty like they do in the regions of the South China Sea. For
+months at a stretch, every night, without a break, the most wildly
+gorgeous, flaming, flaring, flashing crimson sunsets crown the glory of
+the days.
+
+I have been interested in catching pictures of sunsets all over the
+world. I have caught hundreds of sunsets with the Graflex; and other
+hundreds have I captured with a Corona, just as they occurred; and I
+have never seen a spot on earth where the sunsets were such glorious
+outbursts of crimson and golden beauty as across the circling shores of
+Manila Bay.
+
+Night after night I have sat in that ancient city and watched these
+tumultuous, tumbling, Turner-like flashes of color.
+
+One night the sky was flame from sea to zenith across Manila Bay. It was
+like a great Flame of the Forest tree in full bloom. Against this sky of
+flaming sunset-clouds, hundreds of ships, anchored in the bay, lit their
+lesser crimson lights; while, now and then, a battleship which was
+signaling to another ship, flashed its message of light against the
+fading glow of glory in the crimson sunset.
+
+"It is light talking unto light; flash unto flash; crimson unto
+crimson!" said a friend who sat with me looking out across that
+beautiful bay.
+
+The picture of that flaming sunset, with the great vessels silhouetted
+against it; with the little lights on the ships, running in parallel
+rows; and the flashing lights of signals from the masts of the
+battleship will never die in one's memory.
+
+It was a quiet, peaceful scene.
+
+But suddenly, like a mighty volcano a burst of flame swept into the air
+at the mouth of the Pasig River. It leapt into the sky and lighted up
+the entire harbor in a great conflagration. The little ships stood out,
+silhouetted against that great flaming oil tanker.
+
+"It's a ship on fire!" Otto exclaimed.
+
+"Let's go and see it!" I added.
+
+Then we were off for the mouth of the Pasig which was not far away.
+
+There we saw the most spectacular fire I have ever seen. A great oil
+tanker full of Cocoanut-oil had burst into flame, trapping thirty men in
+its awful furnace. Its gaunt masts stood out like toppling tree
+skeletons from a forest fire against the now deepening might; made vivid
+and livid by the bursting flames that leapt higher and higher with each
+successive explosion from a tank of gasoline or oil.
+
+I got out my Graflex and caught several pictures of this flash-light of
+flame, but none that will be as vivid, as lurid, or as lasting as the
+flash-light that was etched into the film of my memory.
+
+The next flash-light of flame came bursting out of midnight darkness on
+the island of Java.
+
+We were bound for old Bromo, that giant volcano of Java. We had started
+at midnight and it would take us until daylight to reach the
+crater-brink of this majestic mountain of fire.
+
+White flashes of light, leapt from Bromo at frequent intervals all night
+long as we traveled on ponies through the tropical jungle trail, upward,
+and onward to the brink of that pit of hell.
+
+White flashes of light leapt from Bromo at the narrow rail. They called
+them "Night-Blooming Lilies," and sure enough they blanketed the rugged
+pathway that night like so many tiny white Fairies. Indeed there was
+something beautifully weird in their white wonder against the night.
+They looked like frail, earth-angels playing in the star-light, sending
+out a sweet odor which mingled strangely with the odor of sulphur from
+the volcano.
+
+And back of all this was the background of that awful, thundering,
+rumbling and grumbling volcano as somber as suicide. Strangely weird
+flashes lighted the mountains for miles around.
+
+"It looks like heat lightning back at home," said an American.
+
+"Only the flashes are more vivid!" said another member of the party.
+
+Those flashes of light from the inner fires of the earth, bursting from
+the fissures of restless volcano Bromo shall ever remain, like some
+strange glimpse of a new Inferno.
+
+Volcanic Merapi, another belching furnace of Java, gave me a picture of
+a flash-light of flame.
+
+The night that we stayed up on the old temple of Boroboedoer, Merapi was
+unusually active; and now and then its flashes of flame lighted up the
+whole beautiful valley between the temple and the mountain.
+
+At each flash of fire, the tall Bamboo and Cocoanut trees loomed like
+graceful Javanese women in the midst of far-reaching, green, rice
+paddies; while two rivers that met below us, wound under that light like
+two silver threads in the night.
+
+Once, when an unusually heavy flash came from Merapi, we saw below us a
+beautiful Javanese girl clasped in the arms of her brown lover. Each
+seemed to be stark naked as they stood under a Cocoanut tree like Rodin
+bronzes.
+
+It was this beautiful girl's voice that we later heard singing to her
+lover a Javanese love song in the tropical night.
+
+This, I take it, was the Flame of Love; a flame which lights up the
+world forever; everywhere her devotees, clothed or naked, are the same;
+forever and a day; be it on the streets of Broadway; along the lanes of
+the Berkshire Hills of New England; up the rugged trails of the Sierras;
+or along the quiet, tree-lined streets of an American village. It is a
+flame; this business of love; a flame which, flashing by day and night,
+lights the world to a new glory.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One night the missionaries in Korea saw flames bursting out against the
+hills.
+
+"What is it?" they cried, filled with fear.
+
+"The Japanese are burning the Korean villages!" said one who knew.
+
+All night long the villages burned and all night long the people were
+murdered. Runners brought news to the hillsides of Seoul where anxious,
+broken-hearted American missionaries waited.
+
+"One, two, three, four, five; ten, fifteen, twenty; thirty, forty,
+fifty; a hundred, two hundred, three hundred; villages are burning," so
+came the messages.
+
+The entire peninsula was lighted as with a great holocaust.
+
+It is said that the light could be seen from Fusan itself, a hundred
+miles away.
+
+"From our village it looked like a light over a great American
+steel-mill city," said a missionary to me.
+
+And when the morning came, the flames were still leaping high against
+the crimson sky of dawn.
+
+For days this burning of villages continued. Belgium never saw more
+ruthless flame and fire; set by sterner souls; or harder hearts!
+
+That was two years ago.
+
+The villages are charred ruins now. Some of them have never been
+rebuilt. The murdered people of these villages have gone back to dust.
+
+The Japanese think that the fires are out. They thought, when the flames
+of those burning villages ceased leaping into the skies; and at last
+were but smouldering embers; that the flames had died. But the Japanese
+were wrong, for on that very day, the Flames of Freedom began to burn in
+Korean hearts and souls! And from that day to this; those flames have
+been rising higher and higher. These are Flash-Lights of Flame that, as
+the years go by; mount, like beacon lights of hope on Korean hills, to
+light the marching dawn of Korean Independence.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A beautiful Korean custom that used to be; flashes a flame of fire
+across the screen of history.
+
+In the old days the Korean Emperor used to have signals of fire flashed
+from hill to hill running clear from the Chinese border to Seoul, the
+Korean capital. This signal indicated that all was well along the
+borders and that there was no danger of a Chinese invasion from the
+north.
+
+Korea has always been a bone of contention between China, Russia and
+Japan. Consequently this little peninsula has always walked on uneasy
+paths, which is ever the fate of a buffer state.
+
+Never did a Korean Emperor go to sleep in peace until he looked out and
+saw that the signal fires burned on the beautiful mountain peaks
+surrounding the city of Seoul; fires indicating that the borders were
+safe that night and that inmates of the palace might rest in peace and
+security.
+
+"It must have been a beautiful sight to have seen the light flashing on
+the mountain peak there to the north," I said to an eighty-year old
+Korean patriarch.
+
+"It meant peace for the night," he answered. "It was beautiful. I often
+long to see those fires of old burning again on yonder mountain."
+
+He said this with a dramatic wave of his stately white robed arm.
+
+"The sunsets still flame from that western mountain peak, overlooking
+your city beautiful!" I said with a smile.
+
+"Yes, the sunsets still flame behind that peak," he responded with a
+far-away look in his aged eyes.
+
+"Perhaps the good Christian God is lighting the fires for you?" I
+suggested.
+
+"Yes, He, the good Christian God; is still lighting the fires for us;
+but they are fires of freedom, fires of hope, and fires of Democracy!"
+the old man said with a new light in his own flashing eyes.
+
+"And fires of peace," I added.
+
+"Yes, fires of Peace when freedom comes!" he responded.
+
+But whatever the political implications are; it is historically true
+that this old custom had existed for years until the Japanese took
+possession of Korea and stopped this beautiful tradition.
+
+But behind that same mountain from which the bonfires used to flash in
+the olden days; indicating that the frontiers were safe for the night;
+that no enemy hosts were invading the peninsula; behind that mountain
+the fires of sunset still flame, flash, flare, and die away in the
+somber purple shadows of night.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nor shall one forget an evening at Wanju; a hundred miles from Seoul;
+sitting in the Mission House looking down into that village of a hundred
+thousand souls; watching the fires of evening lighted; watching a
+blanket of gray-blue smoke slowly lift over that little village;
+watching the great round moon slowly rise above a jutting peak beyond
+the village to smile down on that quiet, peaceful scene in mid-December.
+
+Koreans never light their fires until evening comes and then they light
+a fire at one end of the house, under the floor and the smoke and heat
+travel the entire length of the house warming the rooms. It is a poor
+heat maker but it is a picturesque custom.
+
+Thousands of flames lighted up the sky that night. The little thatch
+houses, and the children in their quaint garbs moving against the flames
+composed a strange Oriental Rembrandt picture.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Streets! Streets! Streets!
+
+Lights! Lights! Lights!
+
+Somehow streets and lights go together.
+
+We think of our great Broadway. We smile at our superior ingenuity when
+we think of the "Great White Way."
+
+But for sheer beauty; fascinating, captivating, alluring, beauty; give
+me the Ginza in Tokyo on a summer evening; with its millions of
+twinkling little lights above the thousands of Oriental shops; with the
+sound of bells, the whistle of salesmen, the laughter of beautiful
+Japanese girls; the clacking of dainty feet in wooden shoes; and the
+indefinable essence of romance that hovers over a street of this
+Oriental type at night. I'll stake the romance, and beauty of the Ginza
+in Tokyo, against any street in the world. He who has looked upon the
+Ginza by night, has a Flash-Light of Flame; of tiny, myriad little
+flaming lights; burned into his memory; to live until he sees at last
+the lighted streets of Paradise itself.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nor are the clothes of the Orient without their flaming colors.
+
+The beautiful kimonos of the Geisha girls of Japan; the crimson, gold,
+and rose glory of the Sing Song Girls of China; the flashing reds of the
+brown-skinned Spanish belles of the Philippines, as they glide, like
+wind-blown Bamboo trees through the streets; and the lurid, livid, robes
+which men and women alike wear in Borneo and Java. In fact all of the
+clothes of the Orient, are flame-clothes. There are no quiet colors
+woven into the gown of the Oriental. The Oriental does not know what
+soft browns are. Crimson is the favorite color for man or woman. They
+even make their sails red, blue, green and yellow. The beautiful colors
+of the sailboats in the harbor of Yokohama is one of the first flashing
+touches of the Orient that a traveler gets. From Japanese Obies, which
+clasp the waists of Japanese girls, to Javanese Sarongs, the flame and
+flash of crimson predominates in the gowns of both men and women. Where
+an American man would blush to be caught in any sort of a gown with
+crimson predominating save a necktie, the Japanese gentlemen, the
+Filipino, the Malay, and the Javanese all wear high colors most of the
+time. And the women are like splendid flaming bushes of fire all the
+time.
+
+A Javanese bride is all flame as far as her dress is concerned. Her face
+is powdered; her eyebrows are pencilled a coal black; her arms and
+shoulders daubed with a yellow grease. As to her dress, the sarong is a
+flaming robe that covers her body to the breasts; red being the dominant
+color; with a crown of metal which looks like a beehive on her head.
+Brass bracelets and ornaments on her graceful arms complete her costume.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Even the Pagodas and Temples of the Oriental lands are flame.
+
+The most beautiful Temples of Japan are the Nikko Temples.
+
+"See Nikko and you have seen Japan" is the saying that is well said.
+
+But when one has spent weeks or a week, days or a day at Nikko; he
+comes away with an impression of beautiful, tall, terraced,
+red-lacquered Pagodas; beautiful, graceful red-gowned women; beautiful,
+architectural masterpieces of Oriental Temples; all finished in
+wonderful red lacquer; beautiful red-cheeked women in the village
+stores; beautiful red Kimonos for sale in the Curio shops; red berries
+burning against the wonderful green grass; and all set off, against and
+under, and crowned by wonderful green rows of great Cryptomaria trees.
+These red Temples and these Red Pagodas--red with a red that is flaming
+splendor of the last word in the lacquer artist's skill; are like
+beautiful crimson jewels set in a setting of emerald.
+
+And back of all these Flash-Lights of Flame one remembers the path of a
+single star on the smooth surface of Manila Bay at night; and the
+phosphorescent beauty of Manila Bay where great ships cleave this lake
+of fire when the phosphorus is heavy of a Summer night; and every ripple
+is a ripple of flame. One remembers the continuous flash of heat
+lightning down in Borneo and on Equatorial Seas; and one remembers the
+Southern Cross; and the flash-lights of fire in a half-breed woman's
+eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS PHYSICAL
+
+
+The red dawn of tropical Java was near. The shadows of night were still
+playing from millions of graceful Palm trees which swung gently in the
+winds before the dawn.
+
+Three ancient volcanos, still rumbling in blatant activity, loomed like
+gigantic monsters of the underworld, bulging their black shoulders above
+the earth. Before us lay a valley of green rice paddies.
+
+We had roved over ancient Boroboedoer all night, exploring its haunted
+crannies and corners, listening to its weird noises; dreaming through
+its centuries of age; climbing its seven terraces. But in the
+approaching dawn, the one outstanding thrill of the night was that of a
+half-naked Javanese girl, who stood for an hour, poised in her brown
+beauty on the top of one of the Bells of Buddha, with some weird
+Javanese musical instrument, singing to the dawn.
+
+Then it came.
+
+"What? Her lover?"
+
+No! The dawn! The dawn was her lover! Or, perhaps her lover was old
+Merapi.
+
+For, there, as we too, climbed to her strategic pinnacle of glory on top
+of the Buddha Bell to watch the dawn that she had called up with her
+weird music and her subtle brown beauty; before us, stretched thousands
+of acres of green rice paddies, spread out like the Emerald lawn of an
+Emerald Springtime in Heaven. Below us two silver streams of water met
+and wedded, to go on as one.
+
+As we stood there that morning on the top of Boroboedoer's highest bell,
+lines of Edna St. Vincent Millay swung into my soul:
+
+    "All I could see from where I stood
+    Was three tall mountains and a wood."
+
+Only in this instance all I could see were three volcanos. And the one
+in the center, old Merapi was belching out a trail of black smoke. These
+three volcanos, take turns through the centuries. When one is working
+the other two rest. When one ceases its activity, one of the others
+takes up the thundering anthem and carries it on for a few years or
+centuries and then lapses into silence, having done its part. While we
+were there it was Merapi's turn to thunder and on this particular
+morning Merapi was busy before daylight.
+
+For fifty miles along the horizon, a trail of black smoke swept like the
+trail of black smoke which a train leaves in its wake on a still day.
+There was not another cloud in the eastern skies. Nothing but that trail
+of black smoke as we stood on the top of Boroboedoer at dawn and
+watched.
+
+Then something happened. It was, as if some magician had waved a magic
+wand back of the mountain. The rising sun was the magician. We saw its
+heralds spreading out, like great golden fan-ribs with the cone of the
+volcano, its direct center of convergence. Then before our astonished,
+our utterly bewildered, and our fascinated eyes, that old volcanic cone
+was changed to a cone of gold. Then the golden cone commenced to belch
+forth golden smoke. And finally the trail of smoke for fifty miles along
+the horizon became a trail of golden smoke.
+
+This was a Flash-Light that literally burned its way into our memories
+to remain forever.
+
+There is another Flash-Light Physical which has to do with another
+volcano which I mentioned in the preceding chapter. Bromo is its name.
+It is still there, down on the extreme eastern end of Java, unless in
+the meantime the old rascal has taken it into his demoniacal head to
+blow himself to pieces as he threatened to do the day we lay on our
+stomachs, holding on to the earth, with the sides trembling beneath us.
+
+Old Bromo was well named. It reminds one of Bromo-Seltzer. I had heard
+of him long before I reached Java. I had heard of the Sand Plains down
+into the midst of whose silver whiteness he was set, like a great
+conical gem of dark purple by day and fire by night.
+
+Travelers said "You must see Bromo! You must see Bromo! If you miss
+everything else see Bromo! It's the most completely satisfactory volcano
+in the world."
+
+It was two o'clock in the morning when we started on little rugged
+Javanese ponies up Bromo's steep slopes.
+
+At daybreak we reached the mile high cliff which looks down into the
+world-famous Sand Sea. It was a sea of white fog. I have seen the same
+thing at the Grand Canyon and in Yosemite looking down from the rims. I
+thought of these great American canyons as I looked down into the Bromo
+Sand Sea. By noon this was a great ten-mile long valley of silver sand
+which glittered in the sunlight like a great silver carpeted ballroom
+floor. Tourists from all over the world have thrilled to its strange
+beauty. Like the gown of some great and ancient queen this silver cloth
+lies there; or like some great silver rug of Oriental weaving it
+carpeted that valley floor at noon.
+
+But at daybreak it was a sea of mist into which it looked as if one
+might plunge, naked to the skin and wash his soul clean of its tropical
+sweat and dirt; a fit swimming pool for the gods of Java, of whom there
+are so many.
+
+Then something happened as we stood looking down into that smooth sea of
+white fog, rolling in great billows below us. There was a sudden roar as
+if an entire Hindenburg line had let loose with its "Heavies." There was
+a sudden and terrific trembling of the earth under our feet which made
+us jump back from that precipice in terror.
+
+Then slowly, as if it were on a great mechanical stage, the perfect cone
+of old rumbling Bromo, from which curled a thin wisp of black smoke,
+bulged its way out of the center of that sea of white fog, rising
+gradually higher and higher as though the stage of the morning had been
+set, the play had begun, and unseen stage hands behind the curtain of
+fog, with some mighty derrick and tremendous power were lifting a huge
+volcano as a stage piece.
+
+Then came the quick, burning tropical sun, shooting above the eastern
+horizon as suddenly as the volcanic cone had been lifted above the fog.
+This hot sun burned away the mists in a few minutes and there,
+stretching below us, in all its oriental beauty was the sinewy,
+voluptuous form of the silver sand sea--Bromo's subtle mistress.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There is another Physical Flash-light that will never die.
+
+Coming out of the Singapore Straits one evening at sunset, bound for the
+island of Borneo across the South China Sea, I was sitting on the upper
+deck of a small Dutch ship. The canvas flapped in the winds. A cool,
+tropical breeze fanned our faces. Back of us in our direct wake a
+splashing, tumbling, tumultuous tropical sunset flared across the sky.
+It was crimson glory. In the direct path of the crimson sun a lighthouse
+flashed its blinking eyes like a musical director with his baton beating
+time.
+
+I watched this flashing, lesser, light against the crimson sunset and
+was becoming fascinated by it.
+
+Then great black clouds began to roll down over that crimson background
+as if they were huge curtains, rolled down from above, to change the
+setting of the western stage for another act.
+
+But as they rolled they formed strange and beautiful Doric columns
+against the crimson skies and before I knew it, I was looking at the
+ruins of an old Greek temple in the sky. Then the black clouds formed a
+perfect hour-glass reaching from the sea to the sky, with its background
+of crimson glory, and the little lighthouse seemed to be flashing off
+the minutes in the arteries of that hour-glass.
+
+And then it was night a deep, dense, tropical night; heavy with
+darkness; rich with perfume; weird with mystery. But the sunset of
+crimson; the Doric temple in ruins; the hour-glass; and the flashing
+lighthouse still remained.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And who shall ever forget the sunsets of gold across Manila Bay night
+after night; with great warships and majestic steamers, sleek and
+slender cutters, white sails, long reaching docks, and graceful Filipino
+women, silhouetted against the gold? And who shall forget the domes,
+towers, and pinnacles of the Cathedrals; and the old fort within the
+city walls as they too were silhouetted against the gold of the evening?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mt. Taishan, the oldest worshiping place on earth, not far from the
+birthplace of Confucius; in Shantung; is one of the most sacred shrines
+of the Orient. There, countless millions, for hundreds of centuries,
+have climbed over six thousand granite steps, up its mile high slope to
+pay their vows; to catch a view of the blue sea from its imminence; to
+feel the sweep, wonder and glory of its sublime height, knowing that
+Confucius himself gloried in this climb. The exaltation of that glorious
+view; shall live, side by side, with the view from the top of the Black
+Diamond range in Korea one winter's night as we caught the full sweep
+of the Japan Sea by sunset. In fact these all shall live as great
+mountain top Physical Flash-Lights etched with the acid of a burning
+wonder into one's soul!
+
+Nor shall one ever forget a month's communion with Fujiyama, that
+solitary, great and worshiped mountain of Japan; sacred as a shrine;
+beautiful with snow; graceful as a Japanese woman's curving cheek;
+bronzed by summer; belted with crimson clouds by sunset like a Japanese
+woman's Obie. It, too, presented its unforgettable Physical
+Flash-Lights.
+
+The first glimpse was one of untold spun-gold glory. There it stood.
+
+"There it is! There it is! Look!" a fellow traveler cried.
+
+"There is what?" I called. We were on top of a great American College
+building in Tokyo.
+
+"It's Fuji!"
+
+I had given up hope. We had been there two weeks and Fujiyama was not to
+be seen. The mists, fogs, and clouds of winter had kept it hidden from
+our wistful, wondering, waiting eyes.
+
+But there it stood, like a naked man, unashamed; proud of its white
+form; without a single cloud; burning in the white sunlight. Its huge
+shoulders were thrown back as with suppressed strength. Its white chest,
+a Walt Whitman hairy with age; gray-breasted with snow; bulged out like
+some mighty wrestler, challenging the world. No wonder they worship it!
+
+I had gloried in Fujiyama from many a varied viewpoint. I had caught
+this great shrine of Japanese devotion in many of its numberless moods.
+I had seen it outlined against a clear-cut morning sunlight, bathed in
+the glory of a broadside of light fired from the open muzzle of the sun.
+I had seen it shrouded in white clouds; and also with black clouds
+breeding a storm, at even-time. I had seen it with a crown of white upon
+its brow, and I had seen it with a necklace of white cloud pearls about
+its neck.
+
+Once I saw this great mountain looking like some ominous volcano through
+a misty gray winter evening. And one mid-afternoon I saw it almost
+circled by a misty rainbow, a sight never to be forgotten on earth or in
+heaven by one whose soul considers a banquet of beauty more worth
+shouting over than an invitation to feast with a King.
+
+But the last sight I caught of Fuji was the last night that I was in
+Tokyo, as I rode up from the Ginza on New Year's eve out toward Aoyama
+Gakuin, straight into a sunset, unsung, unseen by mortal eye.
+
+Before me loomed the great mountain like a monstrous mass of mighty
+ebony carved by some delicate and yet gigantic artist's hand.
+
+I soon discovered where the artist got the ebony from which to carve
+this pointed mountain of ebony with its flat top; for far above this
+black silhouetted mountain was a mass of ebony clouds that seemed to
+spread from the western horizon clear to the rim of the eastern horizon
+and beyond into the unseen Sea of Japan in the back yard of the island.
+It was from this mass of coal-black midnight-black clouds that the giant
+artist carved his ebony Fuji that night.
+
+But not all was black. Perhaps the giant forged that mountain rather
+than carved it, for there was a blazing furnace behind Fuji. And this
+furnace was belching fire. It was not crimson. It was not gold. It was
+not red. It was fire.
+
+It was furnace fire. It was a Pittsburgh blast-furnace ten thousand
+times as big as all of Pittsburgh itself, belching fire and flames of
+sparks. These sparks were flung against the evening skies. Some folks, I
+fancy, on that memorable night called them stars; but I know better.
+They were giant sparks flung from that blast-furnace which was booming
+and roaring behind Fuji. I could not hear it roar; that is true; but I
+could feel it roar. I could not hear it because even so great a sound as
+that furnace must have been making will not travel sixty miles, even
+though it was as still up there in the old theological tower as a
+country cemetery by winter down in Rhode Island when the snow covers the
+graves.
+
+Then suddenly a flare of fire shot up directly behind the cone of Fuji,
+flaming into the coal-bank of clouds above the mountain, as if the old
+shaggy seer had forgotten his age and was dreaming of youth again when
+the earth was young and he was a volcano.
+
+Above that streak of fire and mingled with it, black smoke seemed to
+pour until it formed a flat cloud of black smoke directly above the
+cone, and spread out like a fan across the sky to give the giant artist
+further ebony to shape his mountain monument.
+
+Then Fuji suddenly belched its volcano of color and lava; of rose and
+gold, amber, salmon, primrose, sapphire, marigold; and in a stream these
+poured over Fuji's sides and down along the ridge-line of the lesser
+hills until they too were covered with a layer of molten glory a mile
+thick.
+
+The clouds above Fuji forgot to be black. In fact, their mood of
+sullenness departed as by magic, and a smile swept over their massive
+mood of moroseness, and glory swept the skies. It was as if that furnace
+behind Fuji had suddenly burst, throwing its molten fire over the hills,
+the mountains, the sky, the world.
+
+And "mine eyes" had "seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." And that
+was enough for any man for one lifetime.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Then there is beautiful Boroboedoer down in Java. It is a Physical
+Flash-Light that looms with its huge and mysterious historical
+architectural beauty like some remnant of the age when the gods of
+Greece roamed the earth. A sunrise from its pinnacled height I have
+already described, but the temple itself is unforgettable. There is
+nothing like it on the earth.
+
+Boroboedoer is one of the wonders of the world, although little known.
+It is in the general shape of the pyramid of Egypt, but more beautiful.
+One writer says, "Boroboedoer represents more human labor and artistic
+skill than the great pyramids." Mr. Alfred Russel Wallace says: "The
+human labor and skill expended on Boroboedoer is so great that the labor
+expended on the great pyramid sinks into significance beside it."
+
+Boroboedoer was built in the seventh century A.D., by the Javanese under
+Hindu culture. Then came the Mohammedan invasion, destroying all such
+works of art in its pathway.
+
+It is said that the priests so loved this beautiful Buddha temple that
+they covered it over with earth and then planted trees and tropical
+vegetation on it. In six months it was so overgrown that it looked like
+a hill. This is one explanation of why it lay for a thousand years
+unknown.
+
+The volcanic ashes undoubtedly helped in this secretion, for old Merapi
+even now belches its ashes, rocks and dust out over the beautiful valley
+down upon which Merapi looks.
+
+From Djodjakarta you go to the temples.
+
+This great temple has, instead of the plain surfaces of the great
+pyramid, one mile of beautifully carved decorations, with 2141 separate
+panels depicting the life of Buddha from the time he descended from the
+skies until he arrived at Nirvana, or perfect isolation from the world.
+A history of more than a thousand years is told in its stone tablets by
+the sculptor's chisel, told beautifully, told enduringly, told
+magnificently.
+
+One writer says: "This temple is the work of a master-builder whose
+illuminated brain conceived the idea of this temple wherein he writes in
+sculpture the history of a religion."
+
+And again one says architecturally speaking of it:
+
+"It is a polygonous pyramid of dark trachyte, with gray cupulas on
+jutting walls and projecting cornices, a forest of pinnacles."
+
+There are four ledges to this hill temple and above each ledge or stone
+path are rows of Buddhas hidden in great 5-foot stone bells, and at the
+top crowning the temple a great 50-foot bell in which Buddha is
+completely hidden from the world, symbol of the desired Nirvana that all
+Buddhists seek.
+
+Mysterious with weird echoes of a past age it stands, silhouetted
+against a flaming sky to-night as I see it for the first time. It is
+late evening and all day long we have been climbing the ancient ruins of
+that magnificent age of Hindu culture on the island of Java. This temple
+of Boroboedoer was to be the climax of the day, and surely it is all of
+that.
+
+The fire dies out of the sky. The seven terraces of the stone temple
+begin to blur into one great and beautiful pyramid. Only the innumerable
+stone bells stand out against the starlit night; stone bells with the
+little peepholes in them, through which the stolid countenances and the
+stone eyes of many Buddhas, in calm repose, look out upon the four
+points of the compass.
+
+Night has fallen. We have seen the great Temple by crimson sunset and
+now we shall see it by night.
+
+The shadows seem to wrap its two thousand exquisite carvings, and its
+Bells of Buddha in loving and warm tropical embrace. But no warmer, is
+the embrace of the shadows about the Temple than the naked embrace of a
+score of Javanese boys who hold to their hearts naked Javanese beauties
+who sit along the terraces looking into the skies of night utterly
+oblivious to the passing of time or of the presence of curious American
+strangers.
+
+Love is such a natural thing to these Javanese equatorial brown brawn
+and beauties that unabashed they lie, on Buddha's silent bells, breast
+to breast, cheek to cheek, and limb to limb; as if they have swooned
+away in the warmth of the tropical night.
+
+The Southern Cross looks down upon lover and tourist as we all
+foregather on the topmost terrace of that gigantic shadow-pyramid of
+granite.
+
+The sound of the innumerable naked footsteps of all past ages seems to
+patter along the stone terraces. Now and then the twang of the Javanese
+angklong and the beautiful notes of a flute sweep sweetly into the
+shadowed air.
+
+Then comes the dancing of a half dozen Javanese dancing girls, naked to
+the waist, their crimson and yellow sarongs flying in the winds of
+night, as, in slow, graceful movements, facing one of the Bells of
+Buddha they pay their vows and offer their bodies and their souls to
+Buddha; and evidently, also to the Javanese youths who accompany them in
+their dances.
+
+The sound of the voices of these Javanese girls--who in the shadows look
+for all the world like figures that Rodin might have dreamed--mingling
+their laughter with the weird music; shall linger long in one's memory
+of beautiful things.
+
+Their very nakedness seemed to fit in with the spirit of the night; a
+spirit of complete abandonment to beauty and worship. In their attitudes
+there seemed to be a mingling of religion and earthly passion; but it
+was so touched with reverence that we felt no shock to our American
+sensibilities.
+
+All night long we wandered about the terraces of the old Temple.
+
+We wondered how long the Javanese girls would remain.
+
+At dawn when we arose to see Boroboedoer by daylight they were still
+there as fresh as the dawn itself in their brown beauty, the dew of
+night glistening in their black hair and wetting their full breasts.
+
+And across, from Boroboedoer the sun, in its dawning splendor, was
+transforming belching and rumbling old volcanic Merapi into a cone of
+gold.
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING OVER THE WALLED CITY OF MANILA, AMERICAN SOLDIERS
+SCALED THIS WALL A FEW YEARS AGO TO STAY.]
+
+[Illustration: BEAUTIFUL FILIPINO GIRLS ALL OF WHOM SPEAK ENGLISH.]
+
+[Illustration: KOREAN GIRLS WITH AMERICAN IDEALS AND TRAINING.]
+
+[Illustration: STEPPING ASIDE IN KOREA TO LET THE AMERICAN DEVIL WAGON
+GO BY.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FAITH
+
+
+He was an old man; gray-haired, gray-bearded; gray-gowned; and he knew
+that the Japanese Gendarmes would just as soon take his life as light a
+cigarette. They do each with inhumane impunity. One means as much to
+them as the other.
+
+He was under arrest for conspiracy in the Independence Movement.
+
+"Do you know about the Independence Movement?" he was asked.
+
+"Yes, I know all about it," was his fearless reply; though he knew that
+that reply in itself might mean his death; even without trial or further
+evidence. Just the fact that he had admitted that he knew anything at
+all about the movement was enough to throw him into prison. He was like
+an old Prophet in his demeanor. Something about the very dignity and
+sublime Faith of the man awed the souls of these crude barbarians from
+the Island Empire.
+
+"Since when was it begun?" asked the Gendarmes.
+
+"Since ten years ago when you Japanese first came to Korea," was the
+dignified reply.
+
+"From whence did it spring?" he was asked next.
+
+"From the hearts of twenty million people!"
+
+"Did twenty millions of people all get together then, and plan?"
+
+"Not together in body but in spirit!"
+
+"But there must have been some men to start it?" the Japanese Gendarme
+said.
+
+"They all started it!" was the old man's reply.
+
+"Is there no one who had charge of this movement from the beginning?"
+
+"Yes, there is one!"
+
+"Do you know him?"
+
+"I know him well!"
+
+"What is his name?"
+
+"His name is God!" said this seventy-year old, fearless Christian Korean
+Patriot.
+
+Such faith as I have indicated in the paragraphs above is a common thing
+in Korea. Never in the history of the world have Christian people been
+subjected to the same tortures, the same cruelties, the same terrors,
+for their Faith as the early Christian martyrs; save these; the Koreans.
+
+We had thought that the world had gotten past that day when men would be
+tortured, crushed, persecuted, and killed because they were Christians
+but that day is not yet past as almost any American Missionary in Korea
+will testify.
+
+The Japanese officials will say that there is no persecution because of
+Christianity; but missionaries in Korea know better. They will point to
+countless incidents when men, women and children have been hounded, and
+persecuted for no other reason than that they were Christians.
+
+"And when Jesus heard it, He marveled greatly and said to them that
+followed, Verily I say unto you I have not found so great faith, no, not
+in Israel!" might well be said of the Korean Christians every hour,
+every minute, every second. They know what it means to die for their
+Faith.
+
+The story of Pak Suk Han is one of the most thrilling illustrations of
+Faith that I have ever heard in Oriental lands. He had been a Christian
+since he was seven years of age. He was a brilliant speaker and the
+Assistant Pastor of the First Methodist Church at Pyeng Yang, where,
+even the non-Christians loved him. He was arrested on Independence Day
+and sent to prison where a barbarous Japanese officer, whom the natives
+called "The Brute" kicked him in the side because he would not give up
+his Christ. From that kick and further inhuman treatment running over a
+period of six months; a disease developed which a most reliable
+missionary doctor told me ended Pak Suk Han's life.
+
+When he knew that he was about to die he said, "I have been a Christian
+and have served the church since I was seven years old. I have given my
+life to Christ, all but the last six months in prison which I have given
+to my country. I have no regrets. I might have lived had I been willing
+to deny my nation's rights and give up my Christ. I am going home to my
+Father's house. Good-by!" No Christian martyrs in the early centuries of
+the persecutions by Rome ever died with greater glory in their souls; or
+with deeper Faith!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The temperature was zero.
+
+The cold had swept down over night from the Siberian and Manchurian
+plains across the city of Seoul. The capital city of Korea was shivering
+with cold. But it was vibrant with something else. It was vibrant with a
+great sense of something impending.
+
+There were those who said that the restlessness in the souls of the
+Koreans had died down with the terrible days of the March Independence
+Movement; but I knew that the faith of the people was deeper than that.
+I knew that the flame of faith was just smouldering.
+
+I sensed this from the conversation of old-time missionaries who had
+been in Korea from the very beginning. I sensed it in the conversation
+of young Koreans who had graduated from American schools. It was there;
+a vibrant, living, pulsing, faith in God and in the justice of their
+hopes: the Independence of Korea.
+
+The whole thing was summed up for me in a flash. It was a flash of the
+light of a tremendous faith that blinded mine eyes for a day; but my
+soul it lighted as with a great eternal light.
+
+A Korean boy stepped into the home of a missionary friend of mine, whose
+name I dare not use. If I did he would likely be sent home by the
+Japanese. Men have been sent home for less.
+
+The snow crunched under his feet as he walked up across the yard and the
+porch. He knocked at the door.
+
+"Come in," said the missionary, kindly.
+
+The boy stepped in. The missionary had never seen him before. The boy
+was moved deeply as with a great emotion. He seemed to have carried into
+that quiet missionary home with him some of the tenseness of the outside
+air and some of the tenseness of the political situation.
+
+"What do you want?" asked the missionary.
+
+"I want to talk with you about something very important," he replied in
+Korean.
+
+"All right! Go ahead! Do not be afraid. I am your friend!"
+
+"So I know. All missionaries are our friends."
+
+"Then you need not be afraid to talk."
+
+"No!" said the boy. But he did not talk. His agitation was growing more
+marked.
+
+"Go on, my boy! Tell me what you came for."
+
+The Korean boy looked at the half open door which led into the kitchen.
+The missionary, without a word, stepped over and closed that door,
+because he understood.
+
+The boy himself closed a door which led into the missionary's study. For
+in Korea in these days no home; not even a missionary's home, is free
+from spies.
+
+The boy started to talk hurriedly. The missionary soon saw that he was
+not talking about the thing that he had come for.
+
+"Come to the point! Come to the point! You did not come to me, in such
+secrecy, to talk commonplace things like that!" said the missionary a
+bit sharply.
+
+Then the boy suddenly dropped to his knees behind the missionary's desk
+and whipped out a big knife. Then he took from his white gown a long
+piece of white cloth. This he laid out on the floor. Then he opened his
+sharp knife with a quick motion and before the missionary knew it, he
+had ripped the index finger of his right hand, from, the tip to the
+palm, clear to the bone, until the blood spurted all over the floor.
+
+"What are you doing, my boy?" cried the missionary.
+
+The boy smiled a sublime smile and then knelt on his knees over the
+white cloth and before the missionary's tear-misty eyes wrote across the
+immaculate cloth in his own blood the words: "Mansei! Mansei! Mansei!
+Korean Independence Forever! Self-determination!"
+
+Then underneath these words in a few swift strokes in his own blood he
+drew a picture of the Korean flag. And as he drew, now and then the
+blood would not flow fast enough; and he took his knife, as one primes a
+fountain pen; and cut a bit deeper to open new veins in order that the
+flag of his country and the declaration of his faith might be written in
+the deepest colors that his own veins could furnish.
+
+Finally, after what seemed hours he jumped to his feet and handed the
+missionary that flag; crying as he did so: "That is our faith! That is
+the way we Koreans feel! You are going back to America! We want America
+to know that our faith in the Independence of Korea has not died! The
+fire burns higher to-day than ever. The Japanese cruelties are worse!
+The need is greater! The oppression is more terrible! Our determination
+is deeper than ever before! I have come here this day, knowing that you
+are going back to America; I came to write these words in my own blood
+that you may know; and that America may know; that our faith is a flame
+which burns out like the beacon lights on the Korean hills, never to
+die!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The most scintillating Flash-light of Faith that I saw in the Orient was
+in the Philippine Islands. We were traveling the jungle trail to visit a
+tribe of naked Negritos. These are diminutive people who look like
+American negroes only they are much smaller; much more underfed, and who
+live in trees very much like the Orangutans of Borneo. They eat roots
+and nuts. They hunt with bows and arrows.
+
+They are the lowest tribe in mentality on the Islands.
+
+It was a terribly hot, tropical day and I had a sunstroke on the way up
+the mountainside to this Negrito village.
+
+I did not expect to get back alive.
+
+For three solid hours under a killing tropical sun, without the proper
+cork helmet and protection, a pile driver kept hammering down on my
+head. I felt it at every step I took. Finally I dropped unconscious on
+the trail. After several hours I was able to proceed to the top of the
+mountain, where the Negritos were camped.
+
+We got there about two o'clock and had lunch. As we ate about fifty
+Negritos swarmed about us.
+
+They were a horrible looking crowd; stark naked, filthy with dirt;
+starved to skin and bones; and animal-like in every look and move.
+
+I was so sick that I was not able to eat the lunch which had been
+provided in baskets. I lay on my back trying to get back my strength.
+
+As the rest of the expedition ate, the Negritos with hungry eyes,
+crowded closer.
+
+One hideous old man was in the forefront of the natives. He was so
+hideous looking that he was sickeningly repulsive to me as I looked at
+him crouched as he was like an animal with a streak of sunlight playing
+on his face.
+
+This streak of sunlight, with ruthless severity, made the ugly scabs of
+dirt stand out on his old wrinkled face. That face had not felt the
+touch of water in years. His whole body was covered with dirt and sores.
+Wherever the sunlight struck on that black body it revealed scales like
+those on a mangy dog. His body was also covered with gray hairs matted
+into the dirt.
+
+"That old codger represents the nearest thing to an animal that the
+human being can reach," said McLaughlin, one of the oldest missionaries
+on the island.
+
+"You're right!" I said. "He looks as much like a Borneo Orangutan as any
+human being I ever saw."
+
+"And he lives like one, too; up in a tree in a nest of matted limbs and
+grass," said another.
+
+"I've traveled among the wild tribes of the world all my life and I have
+seen the lowest human beings on earth; in Africa, South America,
+Malaysia, Borneo, Java--Australia--everywhere," said a widely traveled
+man in the crowd, "and I never saw a type as low in the scale as that
+old fellow!"
+
+So we discussed him as the lunch proceeded. He did not know, of course,
+that we had consigned him to the lowest rung on the ladder of humanity,
+so he just sat looking at us with his animal-like eyes as we ate; and at
+me as I lay under a tree trying to recover my strength for the trip
+back.
+
+"He is not a human being!" added a philosopher in the crowd. "He is
+lower than that stage. He doesn't seem to have a single spark of
+humanity left in him!"
+
+Then the meal over; the missionaries started to hand out what was left
+of the food to these starving Negritos. The old man whom we had decided
+was the lowest type of a human being on earth seemed, after all, to be
+the leader of the tribe; no doubt because of his age; perhaps because of
+something else which we were later to discover.
+
+McLaughlin handed out a sandwich to the old man.
+
+"Did he eat it himself?"
+
+"He did not! He handed it to a child near by."
+
+McLaughlin handed out another sandwich which was left.
+
+"Did the old man, whom we had decided was more of an animal than a human
+being, eat that one?"
+
+"He did not. He took it over behind a tree where another old man was
+timidly hiding and gave it to him."
+
+McLaughlin handed out another sandwich.
+
+"Did the old man eat that one?"
+
+"He did not. He took it over and gave it to an old woman near by."
+
+And so it continued, until every last piece of food was disposed of.
+That old man; whom we had decided was an animal; saw to it, that every
+man, woman, and child in that crowd was fed before he took a single bite
+himself.
+
+Then he suddenly disappeared. In half an hour he came back with an
+armful of great, broad, palm leaves. He spread these out on the ground
+in the shade of a tree; did this old man; this hideous looking monster;
+and then motioned for me to lie down on the bed he had made for me. He
+saw that I was sick.
+
+Then he disappeared once again, and when he returned he was carrying a
+long Bamboo-tube full of clear, cool water which he had gotten from a
+mountain spring. He brought it to where I was lying on the bed he had
+made for me and with this water he cooled my fevered, burning head; and
+from this water he gave me to drink; he whom we had decided was the
+lowest type of a human being on earth.
+
+And I am writing here to say; that I have never seen a "cup of cold
+water given in His name" that was given with a higher, or a deeper sense
+of the Divine spark of God in humanity than I saw that tropical summer
+afternoon, and this water was given by the naked Negrito whom we had
+decided was the lowest human being on the earth. Yet even in this
+animal-man; even in this naked savage; there was a spark of the Divine
+that made us forever have a deeper and a more abiding faith that God
+never did and never shall make a man to live on this old earth that He
+did not have some purpose in making him.
+
+A few days before I took this trip up into the jungles of Luzon to visit
+this Negrito tribe I had received a copy of a slender volume of poems by
+Edna St. Vincent Millay. In the cool beauty of the tropical evening
+preceding this trip I had read the last lines of its introductory poem
+called "Interim"; and these lines came flashing into my mind, even as I
+lay on the hot earth on that Luzon hillside. I can still remember the
+honey dripping like rain from the Cocoanut trees, and I can still hear
+the ceaseless and maddening cry of millions of Locusts that hot day; but
+suddenly came this beautiful outpouring of faith from, the cool depths
+of a woman's woodland soul:
+
+    "Not Truth but Faith, it is
+    That keeps the world alive! If, all at once
+    Faith were to slacken,--that unconscious faith
+    Which must, I know, yet be the corner-stone
+    Of all believing--birds now flying fearless
+    Across would drop in terror to the earth;
+    Fishes would drown; and the all-governing reins
+    Would tangle in the frantic hands of God
+    And the worlds gallop headlong to destruction!"
+
+That day bred new faith into my soul!
+
+I have told this story of the naked Negrito a hundred times since that
+eventful day and it kindles new flames of faith in human hearts every
+time it is repeated! Mr. Edmund Vance Cooke, the poet, heard it in
+Cleveland where I spoke in a Chautauqua programme and he said to me
+several months later in my home at Detroit, Michigan, "That was the most
+thrilling story of the Divine spark in a savage soul that I have ever
+heard! It gave me new faith in God and in humanity!"
+
+These, and a thousand other Flashlights of Faith come flashing out of
+that Far Eastern background; the sublime faith of thousands of college
+men and women who are giving their lives because they believe that
+savages and barbarians, such as I have described in this Negrito; Do
+have that spark of the Divine in their souls; faith that Christian
+civilization, and Christian education; and a Christian God, may awaken
+that spark.
+
+And, indeed many a proof do they have of this miracle! Only the other
+day from an American School, a girl from darkest Africa graduated as a
+Phi Beta Kappa honor scholar. Bishop William A. Taylor picked up this
+girl as a naked child in the jungles of Africa less than a quarter of a
+century ago!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FEAR
+
+
+Quick, short, sharp signals shot down the speaking tube from the bridge.
+
+The Chief Engineer of the _Santa Cruz_ yelled across the boiler room.
+
+The bell rang for reverse and the entire ship shivered.
+
+A woman on deck screamed, and there was a rush to the railings, for the
+old boat had been slowly making its way up the winding, treacherous
+Saigon River out of the China Sea into French Indo-China.
+
+"Those damned Chinks again, trying to escape the Devil!"
+
+"What's the matter, Pop?" some one asked the captain.
+
+"That sampan full of Chinks was trying to get away from the River Devil,
+so they shot across our bow to fool him and we nearly ran them down."
+
+"Do they often indulge in that little friendly game with the Devil?" I
+asked him, smiling at his seriousness.
+
+"Every time we enter one of these rivers they do it. I killed six of
+them going up the river at Shanghai a year ago. It gives me the creeps
+every time I see them shoot across our bow. A ship like this will cut
+'em in two like a knife!"
+
+We looked over the green railing of the _Santa Cruz_. The big ship had
+almost come to a stop for the engines were still in reverse and the
+shallow river mud was churned up until the otherwise clear water looked
+like a muddy pond. The little sampan, full of grinning, naked Chinese
+coolies was fifty feet away from us, and our American sailors were
+swearing at them in every language they knew and shaking big, brawny,
+brown fists in their grinning direction.
+
+It was considered a joke by the passengers but it was a very real thing
+to these poor ignorant Chinese. One sees this happen everywhere in the
+Orient. For the Chinaman starts out every morning in his sampan with the
+worst kind of a River Devil after him. He must rid himself of that
+Devil. So, when a big ship comes into sight, he waits until its bow is
+very close and then darts in front of its pathway. The idea is, that
+when a sampan full of Chinamen shoots in front of a big ship the Devil
+is supposed to follow the ship all that day, and let the Chinese junk or
+sampan alone.
+
+[Illustration: CONFUCIUS' TOMB AT CHUFU, CHINA.]
+
+[Illustration: RUIN OF THE MING TOMBS.
+
+The turtle, the symbol of long life, is almost as common in China as the
+dragon.]
+
+[Illustration: GRINDING RICE IN CHINA.]
+
+[Illustration: A CAMEL TRAIN FROM THE PLAINS OF MONGOLIA ENTERS PEKING
+ON A WINTER'S DAY.]
+
+It is the pest of an American seaman's life, for even a seaman hates to
+see a human being drowned.
+
+To an American mind this seems ridiculous. It even seems humorous. I
+shall never forget how the passengers laughed when the captain told them
+why he had had to reverse his engines to keep from crushing the frail
+Chinese sampan. But suddenly the thought came to one of the passengers;
+that to the poor Chinaman the fear which made him do that foolish thing
+and the fear which made him take that awful risk was very real.
+
+"Under God, the poor Devils must have an awful life if they have such a
+fear as that in their souls day and night!" said an Englishman.
+
+"They never start out for a day's work that they are not haunted every
+minute of that day by a thousand devils, ill-omens, and bad spirits
+which are constantly hovering about to leap on them and kill them!" said
+a missionary. "The whole Orient is full of the thought of fear!"
+
+This missionary was right. Paul Hutchinson, Editor of the _Chinese
+Christian Advocate_ and one of the real literary men of the Americans
+who are permanent residents of Shanghai, told me of a Chinese boy who
+was graduating from a Christian College in Nanking. The boy had been for
+four years under the influence of Americans. He could speak good
+English. He was about ready to go to America to school when he had
+completed his work at Nanking.
+
+He, with a younger brother, was at home for the Christmas vacation. On
+the way back to college the younger brother fell overboard into the
+river. The older brother was not a coward. Everybody will testify to
+that. In fact he was unusually courageous. But in spite of the fact that
+his puny brother was able to swim to the side of the small boat, and in
+spite of the fact that he begged his older and stronger brother to pull
+him back into the boat, that older brother refused to do so.
+
+"Why?"
+
+Mr. Hutchinson says that the English teacher heard the tale in terror,
+but that the brother took it as a matter of course, explaining that the
+River Devil would most certainly have caught and dragged into the water,
+any person who should have dared to attempt a rescue of his brother.
+
+It is an established thing in China; that if a native falls into the
+river, he never gets out unless he pulls himself out. Nobody will help
+him, for if they do, that will incur the wrath of the River God and the
+rescuer also will be dragged down to his death.
+
+It is assumed that if a person falls into the river that is the River
+God pulling him in.
+
+The constant fear of this River God is so deeply intrenched in these
+poor souls that they take no pleasure on the water and they carry their
+sense of fear to such an extent that they will not even attempt a rescue
+of their own babies or loved ones if these happen to fall into the
+water.
+
+Mr. Hutchinson calls attention to Dr. E. D. Soper's book "The Faiths of
+Mankind" in which there is an entire chapter called "Where Fear Holds
+Sway."
+
+"Where is it that fear holds sway?" the reader asks.
+
+The answer is, "In the Orient"!
+
+Yes, the whole Orient is one great gallery of dim, uncertain, weird,
+mysterious Flash-lights of Fear.
+
+Paul Hutchinson says:
+
+    "It is impossible for the Westerner to conceive such an
+    atmosphere until he has lived in it. In fact he may live in it
+    for years and never realize the hold which it has upon his
+    native neighbors. But it is no exaggeration to say that, to the
+    average Chinese, the air is peopled with countless spirits,
+    most of them malignant, all attempting to do him harm. Even a
+    catalogue of the devils, such as have been named by the
+    scholarly Jesuit, Father Dore, is too long for the limits of
+    this article. But there they are, millions of them. They hover
+    around every motion of every waking hour, and they enter the
+    sanctity of sleep. An intricate system of circumnavigating
+    them, that makes the streets twist in a fashion to daze
+    Boston's legendary cow and puts walls in front of doors to
+    belie the hospitality within, runs through the social order."
+
+This fear is even expressed in Chinese architecture.
+
+"Why is that strange wall built in front of every household door and
+even before the Temples?" I asked a friend in China.
+
+"It is put there to fool the devils. They will see that wall and think
+that there is no door and then will go away and not bother that house
+any more," I was told.
+
+The very architecture of the Chinese home is to keep the devils out. The
+strange curves with the graceful upward sweep that makes the roofs so
+beautiful to American eyes is for the purpose of throwing devils of the
+air off the track. They will come down from the skies and start down the
+curve of the roofs but will be turned back into the skies again by the
+upward slant of the twisted roofs.
+
+It was this same terrible sense of fear which developed the old surgical
+system that the Koreans and Chinese used before the arrival of the
+missionaries.
+
+"Do you see these needles?" an American surgeon in Korea asked me one
+day, as he pointed to about a hundred of the most horrible looking
+copper and brass needles lying on a stand.
+
+"Yes," I admitted, mystified.
+
+"I have taken every one of them out of the bodies of human beings on
+whom I have operated here in the hospital."
+
+"Where did you find them?"
+
+"In between the bowels, in the muscles, in the organs of the body, and
+one in the heart of a man who came to me because he couldn't breathe
+very well."
+
+"No wonder the fellow couldn't breathe. I don't think I could myself if
+I had a needle in my blood-pump!" I said with a smile.
+
+"These fancy needles that the old Korean doctors thought a good deal of
+they put a handle on," he continued.
+
+"What was that for?"
+
+"So they wouldn't lose their needles in a body. The other, or common
+needles, they just stuck into the body wherever the wound or sore place
+was and left them there."
+
+"And what, may I ask, was the idea of this playful Korean surgery! Was
+it something like our 'button, button, whose got the button?'"
+
+"No, the idea was that there were devils in the wound. If it was a
+swelling there was a devil in that swelling. If it was typhoid fever,
+and there was pain in the bowels, there was a devil in the inward parts
+affected, and so, after carefully sterilizing the needle by running it
+through his long, black, greasy hair, the native doctor would run it
+into the affected part of the body to kill the devil or let it escape
+from the body."
+
+"The old idea of a fear religion, a fear social life, a fear family life
+and a fear surgery prevails in Korea as it does in China?" I said by way
+of a question.
+
+"It prevails everywhere in the Orient. To me it is the most awful thing
+about working out here. The awful sense of constant fear that is on the
+people always and everywhere."
+
+Pounded-up claws of a tiger; the red horn of a deer; pulverized fish
+bones; roots of trees, pigs' eyes; and a thousand poisons and
+fear-remedies make up the medical history of the Oriental doctor.
+
+"Why do they kill girl babies?"
+
+"Fear!"
+
+"Fear of what?"
+
+"Fear of devils! The devils will be displeased if a girl baby is born.
+Therefore kill the baby.
+
+"Throw the babies out on the ground in the graveyards. Let the dogs eat
+the babies."
+
+I heard the dogs howling in a cemetery one night about two o'clock in
+the morning as I was coming through the thousands of little conical
+mounds, with here and there an unburied coffin.
+
+"The dogs are having a baby feast to-night," said an old missionary.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"To appease the devils."
+
+"My God man; you don't mean that they let the dogs eat their babies
+because they are afraid of the devil?" I cried.
+
+"I mean just that," replied the missionary.
+
+"Fear! Fear! Fear! Everywhere. Fear by night and fear by day. They never
+escape it. It is fear that makes them worship their ancestors. It is
+fear that makes them worship idols. It is fear that makes them kill
+their girl babies. It is fear that makes them build their little narrow
+winding streets, which after a while must become so filthy; fear that if
+they do not, the devils will find them; and if they do build their
+streets narrow and winding the devils will get lost searching for them.
+Oh, God, fear, fear, everywhere! The Orient is full of a terrible and a
+constant fear!"
+
+I looked at my friend astonished. He seldom went into such emotional
+outbursts. He was judicial, calm, poised; some said, cold. But this
+constant sense of fear that was upon the people had finally broken down
+his reserve of poise.
+
+"The chimneys are beautiful. See that beautiful upward dip in the
+architecture. They are like the roofs," I said.
+
+"But that beautiful, symmetrical development did not come out of a sense
+of beauty. It came to fool the devils just as we have said of the roofs.
+The devils will glide off into space and will never be able to get down
+the chimneys." It is so in other Oriental countries.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The same is true in the Philippine Islands. The whole fabric of human
+life is permeated with the black thread of fear.
+
+It is true of China and Korea; it is true of Borneo to a marked degree;
+and it is true of that great mass of conglomerate humanity that we think
+of as India.
+
+These and other flash-lights of fear remain, and shall remain forever in
+my mind. But of a fifty thousand mile trip among hundreds of millions of
+human beings; pictures of fear stand out, blurred here and there; but
+clear enough in outline so that I can still see the human faces against
+a background of midnight darkness.
+
+Three pictures are clearer than the others. Perhaps it was because the
+flash that focused them on the plate of my mind was stronger. Perhaps it
+was, that the plate of my soul was more sensitive the days these
+impressions were focused. But they stand out; three flash-lights of fear
+above all:
+
+One was told me by Zela Wiltsie Worley, a college girl, now a
+missionary's wife, who has known what it means to lie on the floor of
+her home an entire morning with machine gun bullets crashing through
+her home, between the fire of two revolutionary armies.
+
+"I was talking with my Amah--she is the girl who cares for our
+children," said Mrs. Worley.
+
+I nodded that I understood that.
+
+"We were bathing the baby--our first wee kiddie--and the Amah seemed to
+have an unusual inclination to talk. I had been joking with her and
+asked her if she did not want to buy Clara Gene. In fun we started the
+characteristic Chinese haggling over price, she trying to 'jew' me up
+and I trying to 'jew' her down.
+
+"'Oh!' she said, 'girl babies are very expensive the last two or three
+years. Now you have to pay over ten dollars to get a nice fat one!
+Before that, if you did not drown them, you had an awfully hard time to
+get rid of them. There was a man in our town to whom we took the
+babies--the girl babies I mean. He would go up and down the streets with
+them and sell them to any one who would give him a chicken and a bowl of
+rice in return.'
+
+"'But do they drown the girl babies now?' I asked the Amah.
+
+"'Oh, yes, of course, if you already have one or two boys. You know, in
+my village I am the only Christian. My own family and the rest of the
+village worship idols. They are afraid of their gods. They do not know
+any better. Why my sister almost drowned my second little boy by
+mistake. He had just arrived and she thought that he was a girl, and had
+already stuck his head down in a pail of water when I rescued him.'
+
+"'But who usually kills the girl babies?' I asked. 'Surely not the
+mother?'
+
+"'Yes, she does. She is so afraid when she finds it is only a girl,
+afraid that the gods will be angry because she has brought another girl
+into the world, that she kills it!'
+
+"'Do they bury it then?'
+
+"'Sometimes they wrap it up, and throw it under a pile of rubbish. You
+know, we do not have coffins made for any of our babies who die before
+they have had their first teeth! I have seen so many babies drowned,
+Mrs. Worley. I never did like it. They cry so!'
+
+"Then I inquired of our Chinese teacher's wife if she knew of girl baby
+killing still going on in China.
+
+"'Just last week,' this teacher's wife said in answer to my inquiry,
+'the woman next door went back to her village two miles from here and
+she saw her own sister drown a baby while she was there.'
+
+"I asked an English missionary if she knew that this fearful custom was
+still prevalent over most of China with its more than four hundred
+million souls.
+
+"She told me that it was the custom in Ning-daik for the women just to
+throw the girl babies under their beds, and they would 'be gone in a day
+or two.'
+
+"And it is all because of their awful fear that the gods will be
+displeased if they give birth to a girl baby!"
+
+The second outstanding flash-light of fear comes from Java.
+
+In the chapter on Physical Flash-lights I have described the old volcano
+of Bromo. It is a terrible thing to look into. Great fissures in the
+earth, belch thunder, sulphur, fire, and lava. Great rocks as large as
+wagons shoot into the air to the rim of the two hundred-foot crater, and
+then drop back with a crash.
+
+For centuries, and even in these days, clandestinely; I am told by men
+whom I trust; the most beautiful maiden of a certain tribe among the
+Javanese; and some of the most beautiful women I saw in the Orient were
+those soft-skinned, soft-voiced, easy-moving, graceful-limbed,
+swaying-bodied; brown skinned women of Java; she, the fairest of the
+tribe is taken; and with her the strongest limbed youth; he of the
+fibered muscles; he of the iron biceps; he of the clean skin; and the
+two of them are tossed into the belching fiery crater of old Bromo.
+
+"Why?" I asked.
+
+"They think that in that way, they may propitiate the gods of the
+volcano. Their hearts are constantly filled with fear lest the gods of
+the volcano become angry and destroy them," said the missionary.
+
+Then he told me of a trip that they made a year before to the top of one
+of the most inaccessible volcanoes which was then in constant eruption.
+
+"We had a hard time getting native guides. Finally we succeeded. We had
+to travel fifty miles before we reached the mountain. Then we climbed
+five miles up its steep side, cutting our own trail as we made our way
+through the tropical jungle. At last we reached the timber. But before
+we entered the forest one of the guides came to me and, with the most
+pitiable and trembling fear in his voice and face, begged us white
+people not to say anything disrespectful of the mountain; not to joke
+and laugh, and not to sing; for that would make the mountain angry, and
+we would all be killed.
+
+"I saw that he was in deadly earnest, and, while I wanted to laugh I
+looked as solemn as I could, for there was such terror in his face, I
+knew that if I laughed he would turn and run back to civilization.
+
+"An hour later we reached the timber line. Before we entered it the
+first boy fell flat on his face and prayed to the god of the mountain
+asking that god not to hurt them. Then the next boy did likewise; then
+the third and the fourth and the fifth!
+
+"Their faces were almost white with fear when we missionaries did not
+pray. It filled them with terror!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And the last Flash-light of Fear is that of the baby in Medan. The
+Priest lived across the way in a temple.
+
+The baby was sick with whooping-cough. It was the usual, simple case of
+baby sickness that American babies all have, and which is not taken
+seriously here by either doctor or mother.
+
+The mother took the baby to the priest.
+
+The priest took a red hot iron; laid the baby on the church altar and
+ran the iron across its neck, and then across its breast and then across
+its little stomach. Then he laid it on the front steps of the temple.
+
+The baby died after a few hours spent in terrible pain.
+
+Hate the Priest?
+
+No!
+
+Despise the mother?
+
+No!
+
+Pity them!
+
+The priest was honest and the mother was honest. They were doing the
+best thing for the baby that either of them knew. They knew that the
+baby had a devil in its little body and they were merely trying to drive
+that devil out of its body.
+
+Fear! Fear! Fear! Fear of devils in the home, lurking in the shadows of
+night and in the light of day; lurking in the bodies of babies; devils
+everywhere--always.
+
+These are the Flash-lights of Fear!
+
+And like unto them are the pictures of Frightfulness which I have set
+down in the next chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FRIGHTFULNESS
+
+
+"The Jap is the slant-eyed Hun of the Orient. He has a slant-eyed
+ethics, a slant-eyed morality, a slant-eyed honesty, a slant-eyed social
+consciousness; a slant-eyed ambition, a slant-eyed military system; and
+a slant-eyed mind!" said Peter Clarke Macfarlane, the well-known author
+and lecturer, one day when I was interviewing him on the Japanese
+question.
+
+"That's pretty strong, Mr. Macfarlane, in the light of your usual
+conservatism," I commented.
+
+"I say it carefully and after much thought. It is said to stay said so
+far, as I am concerned," he added with finality.
+
+This was also my own opinion, after spending three months in Japan and
+Korea, another month in China; and another month or two in Manila;
+catching the angle of Japanese leadership from every slant.
+
+And after due consideration, and after a year to think it over
+carefully, I am here to say, that I never saw, or heard of anything
+worse happening in Belgium under German rule than that which I saw and
+heard of happening under Japanese rule in Korea, Siberia and Formosa,
+while I was in the Orient.
+
+Suffice it is to say, at this point, that the Japanese is hated by the
+whole Orient. I do not believe that the German Hun in his worst day was
+ever hated more unanimously for his inhuman practices than is the Jap
+Hun hated by the whole Orient to-day.
+
+"Is it getting better or worse?" I am asked constantly.
+
+"Worse!" I reply, and this reply is backed up by interviews I have had
+with returned Korean missionaries.
+
+I found the Japanese scorned and hated from one end of the Orient to the
+other. As far south as Java, as far east as the Suez; as far north as
+the uttermost reaches of Manchuria and Siberia; as far this direction as
+Hawaii.
+
+For instance, after I had been away from Korea for six months and had
+come back to America I met a most conservative missionary in the Romona
+Hotel in San Francisco. The last time previous to that meeting that I
+had seen him was in Korea itself.
+
+I said to him "Are things better or worse in Korea?"
+
+His reply was, "Worse than they have ever been; generally speaking!" I
+have no intention and no desire to further augment ill feeling between
+America and Japan. In fact I do not fear anything like war in that
+direction; but I do have an intense feeling of responsibility about
+telling my readers the plain and simple truth that the whole Far Eastern
+world hates Japan.
+
+If that thought itself can get into the mind of America, this country
+will understand, at least, that there is some fault that lies back in
+the Japanese military policy and character itself. It hardly seems
+possible, with ten races and five different countries hating Japan; that
+Japan herself is not mostly to blame. When a matter of hatred is so
+unanimous among all races in that part of the world, it is likely that
+the fault lies with the race and nation which has the hatred of so many
+types of people focused on its actions.
+
+While I was in Java some high dignitaries in the Japanese Navy arrived
+in Batavia. The Chinese Coolies who live in Batavia absolutely refused
+to carry any Japanese officers or sailors in their Rickshas. It was a
+striking indictment of the Japanese nation.
+
+In Singapore the distrust and hatred of the Japanese is unanimous. In
+the Philippines it is the same. In Hongkong you see few Japanese. They
+are not wanted and they are not trusted. In Shanghai, and Peking it is
+the same. The Student Movement, one of the most powerful weapons that
+has ever arisen in any nation in the world, has focused the Chinese
+sentiment against selfish Japanese aggression in China.
+
+The Japanese officials laughed at the Student Boycott of Japanese goods
+when it first started. But in a year they were trembling in the face of
+that boycott. I was in Tientsin, and Peking during the days of the
+Student Street Demonstrations. They were like American demonstrations.
+
+Keen, alert, intelligent Chinese boys addressed the crowds admonishing
+them not to buy Japanese goods in Chinese shops. The pressure became so
+strong that all Chinese merchants from the lowest shopkeeper up to the
+owner of the great chain stores, like our Woolworth institutions, put
+away Japanese-made goods and refused to sell them.
+
+I took dinner in Shanghai with one of the foremost merchant princes of
+China and said, "Are you selling any Japanese-made goods?"
+
+"I certainly am not. I am not powerful enough with all my millions of
+money and all of my chain of stores to take such a chance as that. I
+have put all of my Japanese goods in the cellar."
+
+The Boycott against Japanese goods in China became so powerful that in
+Tientsin, while I was there, the Japanese Consul complained bitterly to
+the Governor of the Province and the Governor who was said to be under
+the influence of Japanese money, arrested a lot of students. There was
+one of the most determined and terrible riots that I have ever seen. It
+was war. It was not like any mild American riot. It was war to the
+death. Several students were killed and finally the pressure was so
+strong that even this Japanese Agent was compelled to release the
+imprisoned students. I shall quote from an editorial that I was asked to
+write for the Peking _Leader_ during my stay in China:
+
+    The weapon which most worries the Japanese I should say, is the
+    boycott that the Students Movement has inaugurated. The
+    Japanese Government never had anything that quite worried it so
+    much. It is a weapon that is worth a thousand battleships, or
+    fifty divisions of soldiers. It is a weapon that will, if
+    continuously, and consistently and faithfully used, bring a
+    money-loving nation, like Japan to her knees, and send her
+    finally, scurrying like a whipped cur, with her tail between
+    her legs back home where she belongs.
+
+I talked with a ragged Chinese boy through an interpreter just to find
+what his reactions to the Japanese were. He was a beggar. He said, "The
+Japanese has a heart like a dog and a liver like a wolf."
+
+I quote again from the editorial in the Peking _Leader_:
+
+    All day I have been on the streets of Peking listening to
+    groups of students discussing the all absorbing-question of
+    the Boycott. I have not understood the characters printed on
+    their banners, but I have understood the light in Young China's
+    eyes. I can understand that language and that light, for it is
+    the language and the light of freedom, justice, liberty! I am
+    an American. I understand that light when I see it; and I know
+    also; that it is a light that can never be snuffed out. It is a
+    light that prison walls cannot hide and that the brute hand of
+    the invader cannot dim.
+
+"And what are they protesting against?" is the question asked.
+
+Primarily against the Japanese control of Shantung. Secondarily,
+against a type of civilization which Japan represents; a civilization
+that uses the weapons of frightfulness to accomplish its ends; a
+civilization that steals a nation like Korea, compelling the abdication
+of a weak Emperor at the point of the bayonet; and then using the avowed
+method of extermination to deplete a subjected nation. The whole Orient
+knows Japan and knows the methods that Japan has used and is using in
+conquered territory. It is a continuous and continual policy of
+extermination, frightfulness, and assimilation. This is the underlying
+cause of the hatred of the whole Orient and the Far and Near East
+against Japan; and this is the fundamental reason for the Students'
+Boycott of Japanese goods in China.
+
+One might devote an entire book to narrations of frightful cruelties
+perpetrated by Japanese on Koreans, Siberians and Formosans; but that
+would not be so strong as the setting forth of the underlying ethical
+reasons for this universal hatred in which Japan is held.
+
+However it might be quite honest and fair for this writer to set down
+here several acts of frightfulness that came under his own personal
+observation merely as casual illustrations of that which is going on all
+the time.
+
+One day I was walking with a missionary's wife through the streets of
+Seoul. There was an excavation being made and a little railroad track
+was being run along this excavation. A Korean boy had been set to guard
+this track to keep folks from getting hurt when the dump car came down
+its steep grade. He had been ordered by his Japanese employers to stop
+all passage when the signal was given.
+
+We were walking along when this Korean stopped an ordinary Japanese
+civilian. He was of the low-browed type; mentally deficient I should
+say; but quite the average type that is used by Japan to settle these
+conquered countries.
+
+The Korean held up his hands in warning.
+
+The Japanese stooped over, picked up a stone as large as a cabbage head
+and, with only a space of two feet between himself and the Korean,
+threw it with all his force against the cheek of the Korean and smashed
+his jaw in, tearing his ear off, breaking his jaw bone, and lacerating
+his face fearfully. It was one of the most inhuman things that I have
+ever seen done.
+
+The missionary woman said to the Korean when the Jap ran; "Why do you
+not report this to the Japanese police?"
+
+"It would do no good. They would give no justice to me, and I would be
+hounded to my death for reporting it."
+
+One evening with a friend I had been speaking in Pyeng Yang. It was
+midnight one Sunday and we were waiting for a train down to Seoul. As we
+stood on the platform waiting; a north-bound train came in. It stopped.
+As it stopped several Japanese train boys got off of the train. An old
+white-haired Korean gentleman, about seventy-five years of age, stood on
+the platform waiting for the train. He was intelligent looking; poised;
+and well-dressed in the usual immaculately white robes.
+
+A fifteen-year old Japanese train boy, seeing him standing there,
+deliberately ran out of his way, lowered his shoulders like a football
+charger and ran squarely into the old man, knocking him down to the
+platform and ran on with a laugh and some muttered Japanese words.
+
+The dignified Korean gentleman got up, brushed the dirt from his
+clothes; did not even deign to glance at the offending boy; and walked
+on as if nothing had happened.
+
+This scene illustrates two things: First, the superiority of the Korean
+mind and character to that of the Japanese. This is one of the causes of
+the extreme frightfulness pursued by the Japanese. They instinctively
+feel the superiority of their captives. It is not the first time in
+history that a lesser nation has conquered a superior people.
+
+This superiority in soul-stuff that the Korean has over that of the
+Japanese is recognized immediately by all Europeans and Americans who
+become, even in the least bit, familiar with the two peoples. The
+sympathy of Christian civilizations is with the Koreans immediately.
+
+The other thing that this simple scene illustrates, is the spirit of
+ruthless cruelty and frightfulness that is bred in the very soul of the
+youth of Japan toward the Koreans. Even the train boys can do a thing
+like that without fear of punishment.
+
+The first day that we were in Seoul, the capital city of Korea, Pat
+McConnell and myself were walking down the main street of this
+interesting city toward the depot. Parallel with us marched a squad of
+Japanese soldiers. In front of them, going the same direction, was a
+poor Korean workman pushing a small cart that looked like our American
+wheelbarrow.
+
+The Japanese soldiers were in formation and marching in the middle of a
+wide street. But deliberately; evidently with orders from their officer
+in charge; they edged over to that side of the street where the Korean
+was walking and pushed him into the curb stone, kicking his barrow as
+they passed, although this meant a useless swerving of, at least,
+fifteen feet out of their course to do so. It was a case of deliberate
+brutality.
+
+"Korea is a land of trails and terraces," said a prominent missionary in
+that fair spot to me one day as we were riding from Fusan to Seoul.
+
+"And terror," added another traveler from America. "It is a land of
+trails, terraces, and terror!"
+
+One day a friend of mine was begging Baron Saito, the present
+Governor-General of Korea, to stop the cruelties of the Japanese
+gendarmes in villages in northern Korea. The Baron asked for the names
+of those who had given the missionary his information about the
+cruelties and he refused to give them.
+
+"Why should you not give them?" asked Baron Saito.
+
+"Because they would be killed for complaining," said the missionary.
+
+Then he told Governor-General Saito how he had once complained to the
+police department when a father and son were cruelly beaten in prison.
+
+"Give me their names," said the gendarme.
+
+"I will if you will give me a promise that they will be protected."
+
+"No! I cannot do that! The gendarmes are very revengeful!"
+
+I know personally of a Korean preacher who has done no greater crime
+than to attend a meeting at a dinner given for released Korean
+prisoners. He was arrested and kept in jail for three days, just for
+attending that dinner.
+
+Another preacher with whom I talked was suspected of collecting money
+eight months after the March Independence Movement. When he heard that
+the Japanese police were coming for him he fled. This angered the
+police. They appeared the next morning at three o'clock at his home.
+There were only the mother and a twelve-year-old daughter left. First
+the gendarmes burst in the frail doors with the butts of their rifles,
+and then from three o'clock in the morning until daylight, they beat and
+tortured those two helpless Christian Korean women; kicking them all
+over the house until they were unconscious. These two Korean women were
+in bed for two weeks because of that night's experience and were not
+able to walk for a much longer period than that.
+
+And these women were educated, cultured women. They had committed no
+crime. It was simply because they did not know where the father was.
+
+Later the father and son were arrested. They were beaten cruelly in the
+process of arrest although they offered no resistance. The son later
+said to me, "I could stand it to be beaten myself and even to see my
+father beaten but the unbearably cruel thing was to know that they had
+beaten my innocent mother and sister when no man was there to protect
+them."
+
+I cite this instance because it happened eight months after the
+Independence Movement, and three months after the so-called reform
+Government of Baron Saito had been in effect and after the Japanese
+Press had said to the world that all cruelties had ceased.
+
+A case of frightfulness that was called to my attention; which seemed to
+me to be the very essence of cruelty was that of the moral terrorizing
+of an educated Korean Pastor, whom the police merely suspected of having
+had something to do with the Independence Movement. They had no direct
+evidence but submitted him to months of moral terrorizing which was the
+worst I have ever heard of.
+
+For months at a stretch they would suddenly appear outside of his home
+and thrust their bayonets through his doors. Then they would go away
+without saying a word. He had absolutely no redress. If he had
+complained, he would have been thrown into prison.
+
+One of the most reliable missionaries that I met in Korea told me of how
+one morning the policemen came to a church in northern Korea during the
+hour of service. They broke eighty windows, arrested fourteen men,
+smashed the little organ with their gun butts, smashed a beautiful lamp,
+tore up the mat seats from the floors, and burned them in front of the
+church.
+
+At the funeral service of another young Korean preacher, Pak Suk Han in
+Pyeng Yang, hundreds of Japanese soldiers appeared with drawn bayonets
+just to terrorize the people. The church was full of Japanese officers
+with drawn swords.
+
+"What would have happened if somebody in a fit of patriotism had shouted
+'Mansei'?" I asked.
+
+"We would have been killed instantly!" said the missionary soberly. "I
+was afraid of that!"
+
+A prominent, educated and English-speaking Korean official, told me that
+in a conversation with a high Japanese official that that particular
+Japanese had said "Our plan will be to assimilate the Korean people!"
+
+"But that will be impossible. There are twenty million of us. You will
+find that a hard thing to do!" said this Korean.
+
+The Japanese official smiled and said significantly, "We know the way!"
+
+The Korean knew what that meant. It meant extermination; extermination
+in every way possible. It meant extermination by introducing
+prostitution in Korea. This has been done. Korea never had any legalized
+prostitution. Korea never knew what the Red Light Section meant. Japan's
+first move was to introduce that. She sent her diseased women to Korea.
+She made prostitution ridiculously cheap; fifty sen; which is
+twenty-five cents in American money.
+
+"Why?"
+
+It is one of her ways of assimilation which means extermination and she
+has already shot venereal disease rates up to an alarming state in
+Korea.
+
+Her next step in frightfulness was to introduce opium. Japanese Agents
+raise thousands of acres of Opium in Korea and sell it. This is another
+one of her steps in the process of assimilation or extermination.
+
+Japan has stolen from poor Koreans their rice lands and their coal beds.
+The process is for a Japanese company to buy the water sources of the
+rice paddies below and then refuse to let the Koreans have water for his
+rice fields. This is another step in frightfulness that will finally
+exterminate the Korean if it keeps up long enough.
+
+The recent massacre of Koreans in Manchuria by Japanese soldiers
+illustrate the Japanese spirit.
+
+This same policy of frightfulness is carried on in Formosa and in
+Siberia and wherever the Japanese army and gendarme system has
+authority. It is worse than anything that the Germans ever did in France
+or Belgium. It has its only parallel in the dark ages.
+
+I told Baron Saito, Governor-General of Korea this in an interview. He
+wanted to know what America thought of Japan's rule in Korea. I said:
+"America and the whole civilized world is stirred with indignation at
+the Japanese rule in Korea. There has been nothing like it since the
+dark ages." Then I read him a quotation from an editorial in _Zion's
+Herald_, a church paper published in Boston with virtually those words
+in it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+My friend, whom I met first in France, when he came back from. France
+was sent to Siberia as a Captain in the American Army.
+
+I met him in Manila just after he had returned from Siberia. He, in
+common with all Americans who had seen the Japanese methods of
+frightfulness in Siberia, was filled with hatred.
+
+"One night," he said, "a company of Japanese soldiers entered the
+little village six hundred miles north of Vladivostok where we were
+located. They announced that they were hunting for Bolsheviks.
+
+"They did not find any in the little village, although they ruthlessly
+broke down every door of every home in that village. Then they went out
+to a sawmill about three miles from town and brought in five boys
+between the ages of twelve and eighteen.
+
+"After torturing these boys in an old box car for two days, hanging them
+up by the thumbs with their arms behind their backs until they were
+unconscious; and then forcing salt water, hot water, cold water, and
+water with pepper in it down their nostrils, alternately; and other
+added cruelties; they announced to the village that they would release
+them that night on the public square."
+
+"Did they do it?" I asked anxiously, for I was stirred to my soul's
+depths with his narration of cruelties in Siberia.
+
+"Yes, they released them; in this way:
+
+"They called all the friends and families of the prisoners together on
+the public square. Then they dug five graves. Then five Japanese
+officers came stalking across the public square, whisking at the
+thistle-tops with swords as they came; and then walked up to these
+innocent Russian boys, and whacked off their heads.
+
+"Had they been tried?" I asked indignantly.
+
+"They had been given no trial. They were mere boys, who, probably,
+didn't even know what the word Bolshevik meant. It was the worst
+illustration of frightfulness that I ever saw, although it was a common
+thing for the Japanese troops to go through the country upsetting the
+barrels of honey that the poor peasants were saving up for the long
+winters; rooting up their young potatoes; cutting the throats of their
+colts and cattle, and ravishing the land."
+
+"How could you stand it?"
+
+"We couldn't stand it. I had to fight to keep my company of Americans
+from sailing into them with fists and bayonets. It would have meant war.
+So I sent word back to headquarters that we were out of provisions and
+we were called back to Vladivostok."
+
+Can this scene be duplicated in Formosa and Korea, where the Japanese
+hold sway?
+
+It can.
+
+During the Independence Movement in Korea this thing happened: All of
+the Korean Christians had been asked to assemble in a church for a
+meeting. When they were all in the church, the Japanese gendarme set
+fire to the church and then fired into it, killing every man.
+
+A woman, big with child, came running toward the church having heard the
+shooting and knowing that her husband was within.
+
+A big, burly Japanese pushed her back.
+
+"What do you want?" he cried in Korean.
+
+"I want to go in there. My husband is there," she cried in terror.
+
+"But you will be killed if you go in there!"
+
+"I don't care! I want to die if he is to die!"
+
+"All right! You shall have your wish!" said the Japanese, and pulling
+out his sword, cut off her head, killing her instantly. She fell at his
+feet with her unborn child; and he laughed aloud at the spectacle.
+
+This is Japanese frightfulness and it can be duplicated by many
+missionaries in Korea if they dared to speak.
+
+But the minute they speak and tell the truth that minute they are sent
+home from their life work. They realize that this leaves the Koreans to
+the utter and awful cruelties of the barbarous Japanese, and because of
+this, in spite of their indignation they hold their tongues for the
+larger good. But they eagerly give the facts to those of us who are
+coming back to America so that America in turn may know what is going on
+in Korea. That is the only hope; that the indignation of a righteous
+world, without war, may bring pressure to bear on Japan to stop these
+terrible cruelties and tortures; this unutterable frightfulness. This
+is the hope of the missionaries; this is the only hope of the Koreans!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I don't know whether or not it was because I had been listening for so
+long to the most brutal stories of Japanese treatment of Korean men,
+women and children; with murder, rapine, burning of homes, especially
+Christian homes; beating of a mother and her twelve-year-old girl from
+three in the morning until eight to make them reveal the hiding-place of
+their preacher daddy, that the crimson, blood-red sunset I witnessed on
+my last night in Korea seemed to me like a "sunset of crimson wounds."
+All I know is that it happened in Korea while I was there, and that my
+soul had been, for a solid month, stirred to the depths of its righteous
+wrath over the things that I had heard first-hand from human lips.
+
+But there it was. The sky was blood-red. At first it was black, a somber
+black. Not a coal-black but a slate black. Then suddenly just at the
+edge of the horizon a crack began to appear. It was a slit of blood. It
+looked more like a wound than anything else I ever saw. The slit of
+blood grew larger and larger in the slate-black clouds.
+
+Then suddenly all over the horizon these wounds began to break through
+the mass of black clouds. Some of these slits were horizontal slits,
+and some of them ran in graceful curves. Some of them looked as if a
+bayonet had been lunged into the body of that somber cloud and a great
+crimson gash was made with ragged edges as big as a house. Then it
+looked as if some ruthless Japanese gendarme had taken his sword and
+slashed a rip in the abdomen of that sky; and from side to side like a
+crescent moon appeared this great crimson wound.
+
+I had never seen a sunset just like it. But there it was. It seemed that
+there was back of that great black cloud a blood-red planet, pouring its
+crimson tides like a great waterfall down back of that slate-black mass
+until finally the curtain of black began to tear, and the blood poured
+through to run along the horizon, and splash against the clouds, and
+slit its way like wounds through the clouds of night.
+
+And I thought of something else. I thought how a Man once was crucified.
+I thought how dark the skies were on that afternoon. I thought how
+slate-colored and somber all life seemed, especially to that little
+group of disciples. I thought of the wounds in His hands and feet and
+side. I thought of the wounds the thorns in His crown made, and of the
+blood that ran over His face. I could see Him there back of that cloud
+in Korea. I could see His Christian people being crucified again
+because of their religion. I could see Japanese bayonets thrust into His
+side and Japanese nails through His feet and His hands. I could see a
+Japanese crown of thorns on His head because He said, "Inasmuch as ye
+have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren ye have done it
+unto me." And I could see the blood of his wounds breaking through that
+nation's clouds on that wonder evening of the "sunset of wounds" back of
+the Korean mountains in December.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+FEMININE FLASH-LIGHTS
+
+
+"Oriental women are fascinating to Occidental men," said a newspaper
+reporter in a Shanghai hotel lobby, a year ago.
+
+"All women are fascinating to Occidental men. Take the French girls and
+the way they captured our American soldiers; of course, these
+brown-eyed, brown-skinned, graceful, mysterious----"
+
+"It's just as I said," replied the first speaker interrupting the second
+speaker, "Oriental girls are more fascinating to Occidental men than
+white girls."
+
+"Yes--I guess you are right, when we get down to the honest to goodness
+truth of the thing," said an American oil man. "Take that Javanese girl
+who knocked at the door of my room; or take that half-breed Malay girl
+we met on the ship between Singapore and Batavia; or that little
+red-cheeked Japanese girl in Tokyo; or that Spanish brunette in Manila;
+or--Oh, Boy! Do you remember that Chinese half-breed, with English blood
+in her veins and an English education in her brain and Paris clothes on
+her back, and American pep in her eyes, and Japanese silk stockings on
+her----"
+
+"Come on! Come on! We didn't call on you for a lecture on Oriental girls
+whom you have met," said the first speaker.
+
+Then a bell boy paged me and I lost the rest of the conversation.
+
+But this dialogue set me to thinking on the various types of fascinating
+Oriental women; the standing they have in the world; and the status of
+their living.
+
+There were the Japanese women; beautiful, graceful, red-cheeked, small
+of stature, wistful-eyed, colorfully dressed; always smiling slaves to
+their men.
+
+The well-trained Geisha girl has, for centuries, because of her superior
+education, received the confidences of Japanese men; while a Japanese
+man would scorn to talk things over with his wife.
+
+There was the banquet we attended at the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo. Mr.
+Uchida, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and many of the high officials
+of Japan were present with their wives. Several members of the House of
+Parliament were present as well as the Secretary to Mr. Hara, the Prime
+Minister. Each of these great leaders of Japan had his wife by his side
+at the banquet table.
+
+It was a small group.
+
+One of the speakers of the evening said: "Perhaps you Americans do not
+realize that this banquet is an unusual occasion in Japan. I think that
+it is the first time that I have ever attended a banquet in all my life,
+when so many Japanese gentlemen had their own wives with them at that
+banquet. It is a very unusual thing to do, but I hope that, in time, it
+will become more common in Japan, as it is in America."
+
+This speech was met with amused laughter on the part of the Japanese
+gentlemen present; but laughter that was kindly; and it was met with
+applause on the part of the Americans present.
+
+It was typical of the attitude of even the educated Japanese man toward
+the matter of appearing in public with his wife at his side.
+
+Up in Sapporo, on the island of Hokkaido, we were entertained by a
+beautiful Japanese woman. We had been away from America for several
+months and were tired of eating Japanese food, so when we were invited
+to this Japanese home for a dinner we groaned.
+
+But much to our delight, when we sat down we had as fine an American
+dinner as any of us had ever eaten.
+
+I turned to our hostess, a most beautiful Japanese woman; the wife of
+the Dean of the College at Sapporo; and said: "Do you have servants who
+know how to cook American food?"
+
+"No, I cooked it all myself!" she said much to my surprise with a bow
+and a smile.
+
+And there she sat, cool and poised after having cooked food enough for
+fifteen people that morning; and arranging for it to be served in the
+finest style; with place cards, salted almonds, Turkey, pudding,
+vegetables and everything that makes an American dinner good; including
+a fine salad. There she sat; as cool, calm and collected as if servants
+had done all of the work that morning instead of she herself.
+
+And never in all of my life have I seen a more gracious hostess. She
+watched the wants of every guest. She noted which guests liked a special
+food, and saw to it that they had plenty of that particular food; and,
+in addition to this she kept a fascinating line of conversation going
+constantly during the meal.
+
+"Do you live in American fashion or Japanese fashion?" I asked her,
+knowing that she had been educated in America.
+
+"Both!" was her reply. "We have Japanese rooms for our Japanese guests
+and American rooms for our European and American guests."
+
+"But how do you live yourselves; how are you training your children?" I
+asked her.
+
+"We are training our daughters to live in American style; on a common
+ground with the men. That is the better way. That is the fairer way!
+That is the way out of our feminine darkness!"
+
+She said it quietly, with poise, and with a fine assurance which was
+thrilling. It sounded like a call to battle, like a trumpet note in the
+new freedom for women.
+
+A missionary friend told me at the conclusion of that meal that this
+beautiful young Japanese hostess whispered to her Mother-in-law during
+the dinner a phrase that sounded strangely like American slang, when she
+noted that her mother-in-law was not carrying on much of a conversation
+with the man beside her, "Start something! He can speak Japanese as well
+as English!"
+
+At that, dear Mrs. Mother-in-law started an animated conversation in
+Japanese with her silent guest on her left. This was illustrative of the
+care with which our hostess was watching that we be kept happy at her
+table. It was a Feminine Flash-light that I do not care to forget; an
+illustration of the possible efficiency, poise, grace, beauty and
+sweetness of the Japanese woman of the future when she shall have won
+her rights of freedom from the slavery of an inferior position to man in
+the social scale.
+
+To an American, the position of woman in regard to prostitution in Japan
+is a terrible thing, but when we consider the light in which the
+Ethical thought of Japan sees it, we do not blame the women any more
+than Jesus blamed the woman taken in adultery in his day.
+
+The system of prostitution is run by the Government and the largest
+income that the Government has, comes from the sale of Sake, the
+national drink, and its houses of prostitution.
+
+A woman who becomes a Prostitute is looked upon as a heroine. This is
+for the simple reason that she is given a matter of several hundred yen,
+it depending upon her form, beauty and qualifications for her position;
+and that money goes to her poor parents. When she leaves her little
+village to give a certain number of the years of her life to the
+Yoshiwara in order to free her parents from debt she is lauded and fêted
+by the people of her village and sent off as one who goes on a crusade
+of service.
+
+Prostitution is so much a part of the acknowledged life of Japan that
+Temples for prostitutes exist where they may go and pray. In one Temple
+we saw large numbers of photographs put up by certain girls of the
+Yoshiwara to advertise their wares.
+
+Consequently there is no fine tradition of ethical values established in
+Japan and the poor girl herself is not to blame. Nor is she blamed; for
+it is not at all an uncommon thing for a Japanese girl to marry out of
+a house of prostitution into a fine family.
+
+One of the terrible Feminine Flash-lights that every careful traveler
+discovers in the Orient is the presence of Japanese girls in the
+segregated sections of Shanghai, Seoul, Peking, Nanking; and even so far
+away as Singapore. I understand however that a recent order from the
+Emperor has called all these girls back to Japan, which is an upward
+step not only for Japan as a nation; but for the womankind of Japan.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was in a Japanese Hotel in northern China that Pat McConnell and I
+had our experience with the strange ways and customs of Japan. Pat was
+taking the pictures and I was writing the stories.
+
+We thought it would be an unusual experience to stay all night at a
+regular Japanese Inn. We stayed.
+
+That night, much to the amusement, of the missionaries who stayed with
+us, three beautiful Japanese girls came gracefully into the cold room
+where we had started to take our clothes off.
+
+They bowed several times as they came with cups of hot tea.
+
+They seemed to pay particular attention to me.
+
+All three of them bowed to me first and then each proceeded to select an
+individual man to whom they served tea.
+
+I took it for granted that they had paid this particular attention to me
+because of some special characteristic of masculine beauty or
+intellectual appearance; or atmosphere of greatness that must have
+hovered about me in some unknown fashion.
+
+I made the mistake of swelling up with pride and bragging about this
+attention that I had received.
+
+"Ah, that's because of your bald head. They think that you are the old
+man of the party. They have great respect for old age!" the missionary
+said with a roar of laughter.
+
+The truth of the matter was that I was the youngest of the party, but
+those girls had selected me as the venerable member of the group of
+Americans.
+
+But the climax came when these young ladies decided to stay with us "To
+the bitter end" as Pat called it.
+
+After filling us with tea they still remained; bowing and smiling; even
+though they could not understand a word we were saying nor we a word
+that they were saying.
+
+"It's one o'clock now! I'd like to get to bed," said Pat.
+
+"How long will they stay with us?" I asked.
+
+The missionaries only grinned in reply.
+
+"By George, I'm going to take my shirt off and see if they won't go!"
+said Pat.
+
+He took it off. The young girl who was serving him took his shirt and
+after neatly folding it, laid it carefully away.
+
+"So that's what they're waiting for; to undress us?" queried Pat and the
+missionaries laughed again, waiting to see what would happen.
+
+"They can go as far as they like. If they can stand it, I can!" said
+Pat.
+
+Then he took off his shoes.
+
+A young lady took the shoes, carefully brushed them off, and put them
+away. Then he took off socks, followed by his trousers.
+
+It looked as they would stay until Pat got into his Pajamas. He was in a
+corner.
+
+"It seems as if this young lady wants to put me to bed right!" said Pat,
+with a grin.
+
+"That's exactly what she is here for. It's a hotel custom in Japanese
+hotels and we get so that we don't think anything of it. They bathe in
+the same pool; men and women alike; and think nothing of it. After all,
+modesty is not entirely a matter of clothes, as the Japanese prove."
+
+"Anyhow, that's what I call service!" said Pat with a grin.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a cold winter night in Seoul, Korea. I had been invited to dinner
+at a Korean home; the home of a former Governor under the Korean
+regime; and now, a respected official under the Japanese rule.
+
+I had looked forward to this dinner with unusual interest.
+
+We took Rickshas to get there and nearly froze on the way.
+
+We took both our shoes and our coats off on the back porch and left them
+to the tender mercies of the zero weather which prevailed on that night.
+
+We were ushered into this beautiful home.
+
+A room was full of men; stately sons of the family; the gray-bearded,
+dignified father; but no women, not a single woman. I wondered about
+this, for I knew that this household was noted for its beautiful
+daughters and a wonderful mother. The missionaries had told me that.
+
+I wondered why no women came to welcome me.
+
+Finally we sat down to one of those interminable Oriental dinners, with
+thirty or forty courses; squatted on our haunches, on the cold floor;
+half-frozen, cramped and uncomfortable.
+
+Then in came a beautiful girl. She was beautiful in every sense of the
+word; physically and spiritually. There was a touch of refinement about
+her which made me know that she had received an English education.
+
+But she was not there for any part of the dinner. Not at all. She was
+there merely to serve.
+
+I found that she could speak English and every time she came to serve
+me, I took the opportunity of talking with her; taking a chance on
+whether it was diplomatic for me to do so or not. I was after
+information.
+
+"You speak good English?" I said. "Why do you not sit down and eat with
+us?"
+
+She laughed aloud.
+
+"My father would drop over dead if I did. It is not the custom in Korea
+for the women of the family to dine with the men on an occasion like
+this. We eat alone in the kitchen."
+
+"Have you a mother?"
+
+"Yes, but she is in the kitchen."
+
+"Will I not get to meet her before I go?"
+
+"Perhaps? Perhaps not. If you meet her at all it will be just at the
+close, of the evening, providing my father thinks to call her. It is not
+important; so our Korean men think."
+
+"But you; you know better? You have been in an American School?" I said,
+as she came in for the fifteenth course and paused a moment to talk with
+me.
+
+"Yes, I know better! I know the American way of treating women is the
+Christian way," she said sadly.
+
+"And what do you think of that way? Do you not like that way better
+than the Korean way?" I asked.
+
+"The American way is much better." Then she paused and much to my
+delight used a typical American girl's phrase, with an appealing touch
+of pathos in her voice and a blush of crimson in her brown cheeks, "Why,
+I just love the American way!" she said and then fled, blushing with
+shame, as if she had said something immodest.
+
+I did not see her again that evening. Nor did I see any of the other
+women of that household. Nor did I see the mother of the home at all.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was in a Shanghai hospital. I was sitting beside an American
+newspaper friend who was at the head of the Chinese Information Bureau.
+He was a world-vagabond. Beside his bed sat a beautiful Chinese girl,
+who had been educated in England and whose mother was a Scotch woman.
+Her father was a full-blooded Chinese.
+
+"I love her but she won't marry me!" said my friend suddenly looking up
+toward the Chinese girl.
+
+[Illustration: THE TEMPLE OF HEAVEN, PEKING.
+
+Long before a single cathedral had been built in Europe this beautiful
+structure was erected.]
+
+[Illustration: A BEAUTIFUL THIRTEEN STORY PAGODA NEAR PEKING.]
+
+[Illustration: MILLIONS OF WAYSIDE TEMPLES AND SHRINES ADORN THE FIELDS
+AND HIGHWAYS EVERYWHERE IN JAPAN, KOREA, AND CHINA. THIS IS ONE OF THEM.
+A SHRINE AND A TEMPLE.]
+
+[Illustration: A SUNRISE SILHOUETTE PHOTOGRAPH OF SOME OF THE HUNDREDS
+OF BELLS OF BUDDHA ON BOROBOEDOER, JAVA.]
+
+She was a beautiful girl and could play a piano as few American women I
+have met. She would have graced any social room in America with her dark
+beauty, her brown eyes, and her Oriental fire. She was rich. Her father
+was worth several millions; being one of many shrewd Chinese business
+men. She was dressed like a Parisian model, in the latest European
+styles. She was in China for the first time in her life. Her father had
+brought her back to marry a Chinese boy. She did not love him. She did
+love my American friend.
+
+"Why will you not marry James?" I asked her.
+
+"My father would kill me," she said quietly.
+
+"Does he say so?"
+
+"He does. He went to America a week ago; and the last thing he said was,
+'If you marry anything but a Chinese I will kill you!'"
+
+"Did he really mean it?" I asked her, astonished.
+
+"He meant it more than anything he ever meant in his life. It would be
+considered a disgrace to my entire family if I married anybody but a
+Chinese boy."
+
+"Even though your father married a Scotch woman?" I said.
+
+"For that very reason it is imperative that I marry my own blood," she
+said.
+
+"That is terrible!" I replied catching my first glimpse of the strange
+and terrible social position in which a girl of mixed blood is placed in
+China.
+
+"You see," she said in a quiet, refined voice, with a marked English
+accent, "I have an English education but I have Chinese blood. I can
+never be happy marrying a Chinese after I have been educated in
+England. I can never be happy with Chinese clothes, Chinese customs, and
+Chinese people. And yet if I marry the man I love, it will break my
+father's heart. He would kill me to be sure; for if he says he will,
+that means that he will keep his word. But that would not be the worst
+of it. To die would be easy."
+
+"What would be the worst of it?" I asked, my heart stirred with a
+strangely deep sympathy at this beautiful Chinese girl's dilemma.
+
+"The worst thing would be that it would break my father's heart!"
+
+Then she wept.
+
+That was my first glimpse of the life of tragedy through which a
+half-breed woman of the Orient has to go.
+
+I met them in the Philippines, with Spanish and American blood running
+in their veins; I met Malay girls whose fathers had been German or
+English; I met Dyak girls whose fathers had been Dutch; and Javanese
+girls whose fathers had been either American, English or Dutch.
+
+I stayed with such a woman in a home in Borneo. She had been a Dyak
+girl. Yet she did not look it. She had a beautiful home with beautiful
+English speaking children. I met her in the interior of Borneo a hundred
+miles from a single white woman. And yet in this far interior; living
+with her English husband who was the head of a mining project; she was
+keeping intact the English education of her children. There was a piano
+and the children played beautifully while the mother, in a rich
+contralto voice sang.
+
+She was graceful, accomplished, beautiful, poised and sweet.
+
+One night as we walked alone under the moonlight the Englishman opened
+his heart to me and said, "You are going to visit the Head-Hunting Dyaks
+to-morrow. You will see their abject squalor and filth. You will be
+surprised when I tell you that my wife was a Dyak girl and that I took
+her out of a Kampong fifteen years ago and took her to England."
+
+"That's a lie!" I exclaimed.
+
+"It is the truth!" he added.
+
+Somehow his statement angered me. I don't know why. Perhaps it was the
+unusual heat of the tropics. We were directly on the Equator. I would
+have fought him for that statement.
+
+But it was true.
+
+"And the hell of it was that when I took her to England she was not
+happy and my people would not receive her. So we have had to come back
+to Borneo and live our lives in this fashion, far from civilization."
+
+He was silent for a few minutes.
+
+"That is the fate of mixing bloods in these tropical lands," he said
+with a shudder. "And the woman always suffers more than the man!"
+
+I met another Malay-English girl on the ship going from Singapore to
+Batavia, Java.
+
+She too was an educated, English-speaking girl of a strange beauty and
+fascination. She started to talk with me as I sat alone on the Dutch
+ship. We were the only English-speaking people on board and we felt a
+certain comradeship. We sat an entire evening talking about the problem
+of a girl of mixed blood in the Malay States.
+
+"White men always assume that we are bad girls. They come into the
+offices where we work as stenographers and insult us. It is that taint
+of mixed blood. We have the longings and the ideals of the best blood
+that is in our veins; but the skin and the color and the passions of the
+worst. We try to be good; some of us; but everything is against us. We
+can never marry white men; though we frequently fall in love with them
+for we work side by side with them in the offices. But when it comes to
+marrying us they fear the social ban. It is a terrible thing. There is
+no way out! It is a thing that has been imposed upon us from the
+generations that have gone. We pay!"
+
+I shall never forget her brown eyes, her brown skin, her heaving breast,
+as the great Dutch ship cut the waves of the South China Sea bound for
+Java.
+
+"Why are you leaving a good position and going to Java?" I asked her.
+
+"They say things are better for us girls in Java; that the Dutch are not
+so particular. I shall no doubt be homesick for Singapore but I am going
+to try Java for a while. My sister is there!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A Feminine-Flash light that has its humorous side was one that I
+experienced in Borneo.
+
+We had gone out to a Dyak village to take pictures.
+
+It was a miserably hot morning. That night I stayed in Pontianak which
+is bisected by the Equator. It was so cold in the middle of the night
+that I had to get up and put on a night shirt!
+
+The next day we tramped ten miles through the Jungle to a Head-hunting
+Dyak village.
+
+I had been taking pictures for an hour in this Kampong when six of the
+most beautiful Dyak girls came in, with great Bamboo water tubes flung
+over their gracefully strong shoulders. Their skin looked like that of a
+red banana from toe to chin. They were stark naked save for a girdle
+about their loins. They had been five miles away for water.
+
+Their skin was flushed with exercise. There they stood, mystified at
+seeing white men in the village Kampong.
+
+In fact they were terrified.
+
+Their big brown eyes bulged out.
+
+Their breasts heaved with fear.
+
+I said to the missionary, "Dyak Madonnas! What a painting they would
+make?"
+
+"Yes, there are no more beautiful women anywhere. They look like bronze
+statues. A Rodin, or a St. Gaudens would go wild over their limbs and
+bodies."
+
+I asked the missionary to tell them that I wanted to take a picture of
+them just as they were, standing with their water vessels poised on
+their shoulders; in their naked splendor and beauty.
+
+He told them.
+
+They squealed for all the world like American girls and ran for dear
+life, disappearing in the flash of an eye.
+
+He tried to coax them to come out to get a picture taken. The Missionary
+could speak their language but they would only peek through the doors
+with grinning faces.
+
+Finally they agreed that we could take their pictures if I would let
+them put dresses on.
+
+I didn't want to do this; for I wanted them just as they were; but saw
+that they were adamant in their souls even if their brown bodies did
+look as soft as ripening mangos; and as beautiful and brown.
+
+I pictured all sorts of ugly dresses; discarded by the white folks and
+given to them. But much to my surprise, when they appeared all dressed
+up for the picture, every last one of them had on a white woman's
+discarded night gown.
+
+I wanted to laugh. It destroyed their picturesqueness but those gowns
+could not destroy their symmetrical beauty of limb and body.
+
+"That's a quick way to dress up!" I said to my missionary friend.
+
+We smiled but I got the picture.
+
+And back of these Flash-lights Feminine; is the black page of the
+history of womankind in all the Far East; with footbinding still rampant
+over nine-tenths of China; baby-killing, baby-selling, and baby-slavery
+which I saw with my own eyes time and time again; with slavery of
+womankind, from Japan down to Ceylon the regular thing. But there is
+still hope in the woman-heart of the Far East; and the hope is the
+American woman and her religion. That and that alone will break down
+prejudices, break off shackles, and tear to bits the traditions of the
+past.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The women suffer! Yes, the women always suffer!" said a big fellow to
+me up in the northern part of Luzon in the Philippines one evening.
+
+"What do you mean?" I asked him, scenting a story.
+
+Then the man told me of a cholera epidemic that he had passed through;
+of how he had tried to care for the sick, even though he was not a
+physician; told me of their poor superstitious methods of driving away
+the "evil spirits."
+
+He told of how he had gone into homes where he found seven inmates dead
+and four dying; of how he tried to care for them with nothing medicinal
+at hand.
+
+Then he told me of how the poor people went down to a dirty inland river
+and had killed a hog, taken its heart; killed a dog, taken its heart;
+and then after putting them on a little raft, floated them off down the
+river to drive the cholera away. Then he told me of how the natives had,
+in their desperation, tied tight bands about their ankles to keep the
+evil spirits from coming up out of the earth into their bodies.
+
+"But what do you yourself do about a doctor. You say that you are 400
+miles from a doctor, even here. What about your children, when they take
+sick?" I asked him, and then was sorry that I had asked the question
+because of a terribly hurt and unutterably sorrowful look in his eyes.
+
+"Mother and I don't like to talk about that or to think about it!" he
+said simply, and I knew that I had torn open an old wound which was just
+over his heart.
+
+His voice broke as he spoke, and he looked at the woman who was his
+brave helpmate and said again: "Mother and I don't like to think about
+that!" The tears ran down over his cheeks and "Mother's" too, and mine
+also.
+
+"I am sorry! I am sorry if I have opened an old wound!" I said, quite
+helpless to remedy the damage I had done. I felt as one who had
+unwittingly trodden on a flower bed and crushed some violets. They
+bleed, even though you see no blood. I saw that their hearts were
+bleeding. But he spoke.
+
+"We were 400 miles from a doctor. Baby took sick. If we could have had a
+doctor she would have been saved."
+
+"Now Daddy, we do not know for certain about that," said the
+ever-conservative woman in her.
+
+"There was not a Filipino doctor. She died in mother's arms!"
+
+It was oppressively silent in that far-off mission home for a few
+minutes. I thought some one would sob aloud. It might have been any one
+of us, the way we all felt. I took hold of my cane chair with a grip
+that numbed my hands for a half hour afterwards.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FUN
+
+
+All the "Peck's Bad Boys" of the world are not confined to American
+soil.
+
+I found them all over the Far East; especially in China.
+
+I was annexed by one of them who became a sort of a guide de luxe when
+we were going through the ruined Palaces of the romantic regions of
+Peking.
+
+He annexed himself to us in somewhat the same fashion as a thistle or a
+burr annexes itself to you as you walk through the field where thistles
+are thick.
+
+He was an acquired asset of questionable value. With him were a lot of
+followers but it was plain to be seen that he was the leader of the
+gang; which was, for all the world, like a typical street gang in an
+American city.
+
+Who could pass up that group of a dozen little rascals who followed us
+through the ruins of the old Summer Palace? Who could resist their
+imitations of everything one did? I sneezed and the little rascals
+sneezed also. I counted one, two, three, four, as I adjusted my Graflex
+for a picture and I heard a chorus of laughing "One, two, three, fours."
+I yelled ahead to an American member of the party and said "Wait!" and a
+dozen boys yelled "Wait!"
+
+We fell in love with the dirty-faced rascals. They looked to be a
+nuisance when we started and I wanted them driven back, but before we
+were through they had become the most interesting part of the whole
+trip. Sure enough we emptied our purses of pennies and some white money.
+The little fellow who was in his bare feet and who said, with a real
+touch of seven year old Chinese humor, "These are leather shoes that I
+have on and they will last all my life," won our hearts. That was humor
+with a vengeance.
+
+This lad was happy. No wonder then that when one of the party passed him
+an extra penny early in the morning he winked knowingly as one who had
+been taken into the inner councils of affection.
+
+And no wonder that he followed the man who gave him that penny to the
+end of the morning, and no wonder when we told him through the
+interpreter that we liked the boys because they were good boys; he said
+in return, "Some boys would have followed you around, pulling your coats
+and being rude and yelling at you."
+
+The nonchalant way in which they admitted that they were good boys won
+our hearts and we came back penniless.
+
+Then who can forget the little rascals who smiled and winked back in the
+midst of the dignified Lama ceremonies over at the Lama Temple, proving
+that they were, after all, real human boys with a laugh and the spirit
+of fun in their little souls in spite of their having to take part in
+this dignified chanting service.
+
+It was fun when the service was over to see them tumble out of the
+Temple so fast that one boy fell and about six fell on top of him just
+as American boys do pouring out of school. I even saw one lad whack
+another one on the back of his little bald head and a scuffle ensued.
+They laughed, fought, tumbled pell-mell, got up again grinning, winked
+and laughed back at the good natured Americans for all the world like
+American boys.
+
+The Chinese have a distinct sense of humor and it is very much like that
+which is found in our own America. Indeed the Chinese are like us in
+many respects.
+
+The Filipino enjoys a good joke but his humor is more cruel than is
+American humor.
+
+The Dyak of Borneo has a sense of play and fun that would not exactly
+appeal to an American mind; although there are those who claim that
+American football is a near kin to the delightful game of Head-hunting
+indulged in by the Dyaks of Borneo.
+
+The Dyaks have for centuries been known as the head-hunters of the Far
+East. They, in common with the Igorotes of the Philippines, have had the
+playful custom of going out when the mood took them and bringing in a
+few heads just as our Indians used to get scalps. When a Dyak youth
+wanted to marry a nice young Dyak girl to whom he had taken a fancy (and
+I can assure the reader that some of them are as beautiful as Rodin's
+bronze statues), he didn't even dare mention his desire for that young
+bronze beauty until he had brought in five or six heads. After that he
+had some standing in the lady's sight. Without the heads he had no more
+chance of winning either the girl herself or her pa or ma or any of the
+Dyak family than the proverbial snowball has of getting through Borneo
+without melting. It just simply couldn't be done according to Dyak
+etiquette.
+
+Head-hunting was a game between tribes also. When two tribes of Dyaks
+felt a playful mood coming on, they would challenge each other to a
+head-hunting game. The game would last for a week or so and the tribe
+that took the most heads won. It was nothing like "Tag you're it." If
+so, some of the skulls that I have seen at Dyak Compounds would not be
+grinning so hideously these days as they ornament the poles of certain
+vain and proud Dyak hunters.
+
+The Battaks of Sumatra also have a playful custom of getting rid of
+their old men. When a man gets so old that they think it is about time
+for him to tell his last tale, they put him up a Cocoanut tree. Then all
+of the young bucks of the village get together and try to shake him
+down. If he is too feeble to hold on, and comes down, that is a sign of
+heaven that his days are through and they cook him and eat him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Japanese claim to have a great sense of humor. Japanese students
+speaking in America, insist that this is true. But travelers in Japan do
+not find it so. Indeed if Japan had a sense of humor, it would keep her
+out of many an international tangle. She does not know how to laugh. Her
+sense of dignity is so exaggerated that she does not know the fine art
+of smiling and laughing at herself.
+
+"What does Japan most need to learn?" a student asked me.
+
+"To laugh," I replied.
+
+"I think that you are right! Your Lincoln knew how to laugh!" was his
+response as he went off thoughtfully.
+
+I was advertised to speak in a northern college in Japan. The Dean of
+the school wanted to advertise me so that the students would all come
+out to hear me. This is the way he did it:
+
+    "Dr. Stidger is a college student who played with the foot-ball
+    in America. He is a man with the bigness of the head! He
+    reaches the six feet tall; the four feet around; has an arm
+    like an ox and a head like a board!"
+
+I was not certain as to just what he meant by many of those references,
+but I was assured that they were intended to be highly complimentary to
+me. I am not yet sure of that but I had a good laugh just the same.
+
+The story is told of a ruthless American humorist Hotel-keeper in
+Singapore who was entertaining a group of Japanese Officers from the
+Japanese Navy. This American had no love for Japan. He also knew of
+their lack of humor; so when the Japanese Captain arrived at the hotel
+the American Manager made quite an extended speech of welcome, as his
+American friends listened, greatly amused.
+
+He said in part: "The hotel is yours! During your stay the entire force
+of servants is at your disposal. If there is anything that you want that
+you do not see, please ask for it."
+
+[Illustration: OLD BROMO VOLCANO, JAVA.
+
+"The way it effervesces Bromo is a fitting name," said the author when
+he saw it in action.]
+
+[Illustration: A SIDE VIEW OF BEAUTIFUL BOROBOEDOER IN JAVA.
+
+Said by travelers to make the Pyramids look like child's play as a
+tremendous piece of construction; and as a work of art to have no rival
+in the whole world.]
+
+[Illustration: NAKED AND OTHERWISE.
+
+This curious conglomeration of Mongrel children watching the
+photographer in Borneo where Dyaks, Chinese, Malay and others mix
+indiscriminately.]
+
+[Illustration: A DOG MARKET AMONG THE IGGOROTEES OF THE PHILIPPINES.]
+
+The Japanese Captain bowed continuously and smiled; sucking in his
+breath with a characteristic national custom; the same sound they made
+as they eat fried eggs in a Japanese dining car; a sound similar to the
+old-fashioned but now obsolete method of drinking coffee from a saucer.
+
+"There is just one request however that we will have to make of you,
+while you are here with us in the hotel," continued the American hotel
+manager.
+
+"And what is that may I ask?" inquired the Japanese Captain, still
+bowing and sucking in air through his teeth.
+
+"That you do not climb around in the trees!"
+
+The Japanese officers did not see the joke and did not even smile but
+the Americans in the Far East have laughed over it for years.
+
+Which reminds one of the night on the Sambas River when a hundred little
+monkeys were silhouetted against a crimson sunset.
+
+Red, brown, yellow, golden, blue orchids flashed in the sunlight; and
+flowers of every hue under God's blue skies made brilliant the river
+banks. At times the ship went so close that I could reach out and grab a
+limb of a tree, much to the indignation of the monkeys who chattered at
+me as if I had stolen something. Now and then a big lazy alligator slid
+into the water from the muddy banks as the wave-wash from our propeller
+frightened him.
+
+Coming back down the Sambas River, along its winding, beautiful way we
+sat one evening and watched a crimson sunset from the deck of the ship.
+At one point in the river there was a row of dead, bare trees. There
+were no leaves on the branches--only monkeys: big red monkeys, which
+they call "Beroks," and little gray fellows, which they call "Wahwahs."
+These monkeys were strikingly silhouetted against the crimson sunset in
+strange tropical fashion. From the tips of those dead trees down to the
+lowest branches dozens of monkeys stood like sentinels, or romped like
+children, or chattered like magpies. Their long curling tails
+silhouetted below the branches against the light of evening.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Most Americans who go in and out of Japan get disgusted with the
+regulations that policemen impose upon them.
+
+This is especially true of those Americans living in China who are
+compelled, for business reasons, to go in and out of Japan, for at every
+trip they are required to answer the same list of questions. I traveled
+from Korea into Japan with the Military Attaché of the Spanish Legation.
+When we landed a Japanese officer who had known him for many years
+insisted upon his answering the usual questions.
+
+"I've been in this country for ten years and yet I never go out or in
+that they do not compel me to go through the same foolish police
+regulations which they have copied from Germany and haven't sense
+enough to give up!" he said indignantly.
+
+I also traveled with a party in which there was a Methodist Bishop's
+wife. This Bishop's wife absolutely refused to give the Japanese
+policeman her age. Not that she had any reason to be ashamed of her age.
+In fact she could easily have passed for twenty years younger than she
+probably was, but she just had the average American woman's spunk and
+refused to give it.
+
+For a few minutes it looked as if diplomatic relations between Japan and
+America might be seriously cracked, if not broken; for the Japanese
+officer had no sense of humor. That is one of the chief defects of the
+Japanese police and military system. It has no sense of humor. It takes
+itself too seriously. It does not know how to laugh.
+
+To the eight or ten Americans in the party the whole matter was a huge
+joke and we admired the spunk of the Bishop's wife, but the poor
+Japanese police officer was facing what he thought was an international
+problem.
+
+Need it be said that the whole matter was finally settled to the entire
+satisfaction; not of the Japanese officer, but to the entire
+satisfaction of the Bishop's wife.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A friend of mine who happens to be in business in the Orient got so
+tried of being interviewed, trailed, and made to answer innumerable
+questions about his mother, grandmother, etc., that one day on landing
+in Yokohama, in a spirit of fun, he answered the officer's questions in
+this manner:
+
+"How old are you?"
+
+"Thirty-six."
+
+"Have you a family?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How many children?"
+
+"Three."
+
+"How old are they?"
+
+"One is thirty-eight, one forty, and one forty-five."
+
+"What is your occupation?"
+
+"Commander-in-Chief of the Greenland Navy."
+
+"What are you doing in Japan?"
+
+"Getting a cargo of ice to take back to Greenland."
+
+After satisfying his appetite for information, the Japanese police
+officer departed to make his reports, while the young American went to
+his hotel with a grin all over his face.
+
+While he was eating his dinner that evening suddenly the Japanese
+officer appeared in the dining room with a big smile on his face and
+walked over to where the American sat with a group of friends.
+
+As he approached the American's table he said with a grin, "You
+American! I know! You American!"
+
+"How did you guess it, my friend?"
+
+"You make me one tam fool!" he said holding out the report.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Some of the most laughable things that one sees in the Orient are the
+Japanese signs translated into English by some Japanese merchant who has
+picked up a dash of English here and there.
+
+One such sign which caused a lot of amusement was that of a tailor who
+was trying to cater to American Tourist trade. He had, evidently, also
+had some contact with the spiritual phraseology of the missionaries. He
+had painted on a big sign:
+
+    "BUY OUR PANCE!
+    THEY FIT YOU BETTER AND
+    THEY WARM YOUR LEGS LIKE THE
+    LOVE OF GOD!"
+
+Perhaps the most exhilaratingly humorous thing that the Japanese have
+perpetrated on the Koreans was a list of advices printed and posted all
+over Korea by the Police Department as to the regulation of Fords:
+
+    RULES!
+
+    1. At the rise of hand of policeman, stop rapidly. Do not pass
+    him by or otherwise disrespect him.
+
+    2. When a passenger of the foot hove in sight, tootle the horn
+    trumpet to him melodiously at first. If he still obstacles your
+    passage, tootle him with vigor and express by word of the mouth
+    the warning, "hi, hi."
+
+    3. Beware of the wandering horse that he shall not take fright
+    as you pass him. Do not explode the exhaust box at him. Go
+    soothingly by, or stop by the roadside till he gently pass
+    away.
+
+    4. Give big space to the festive dog that make sport in the
+    roadway. Avoid entanglement of dog with your wheel spokes.
+
+    5. Go soothingly on the grease-mud, as there lurk the
+    skid-demon. Press the brake of the foot as you roll around the
+    corners to save the collapse and tie-up.
+
+    6. Number of people you put in the Ford: You put two in the
+    front house and three in the back house.
+
+There were other rules but this list will be sufficient as a Flash-light
+of Fun to give some idea of the ridiculous way in which the average
+Japanese twists the ideas and phraseology of English in the
+translations.
+
+I saw one great sign which brought a smile. It was up on the island of
+Hokkaido. It had printed in large English letters:
+
+  "GET YOUR MOTHER'S MILK HERE!"
+
+Below that sentence there was a picture of a cow which looked as much
+like a combination of an Elephant and a Camel as anything I know. The
+artist must have been a wonder. Attached to each of the cow's udders
+were long lines of hose that ran for about ten feet across a big
+bill-board. At the end of each line of hose was a nipple, like our
+American baby-nipples. At the end of each nipple there was a man-sized
+baby pulling away at the nipple. It was one of the funniest advertising
+signs I ever saw. I watched several Americans look up at it and every
+one of them laughed aloud. And the funny thing about it was that it was
+intended to be a serious advertising sign.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At a banquet given in the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo one of the most
+side-splitting incidents happened unintentionally that ever happened at
+any banquet anywhere.
+
+One of the sons of a great Japanese business man was speaking. The
+banquet was in honor of a well-known College President from America who
+had come to take up work in the Orient. This banquet was to welcome him
+officially to Japan.
+
+One of the speakers, sitting beside Mr. Uchida, the Foreign Minister,
+had been a student in America where this man was formerly the college
+president and he was trying to make the crowd see how happy he was to
+welcome the president to Japan. He did it in the following language as
+nearly as I can remember it:
+
+"I feel like a cartoon I see in your peculiar paper--what you call
+him--_Puck_? _Judge_? No--he bin in that peculiar paper, _Life_? That
+was he.
+
+"This picture; he shows two dogs talking to each other.
+
+"One dog he a great, what you call him--Coolie? Pug? Yes, he was a
+Scottish Coolie. The other was a little wee dog; a Pugnacious Dog, I
+think you call him.
+
+"The little dog he have his tail all done up in the bandages.
+
+"The big dog say, 'Little dog, for why you have your tail all bandaged
+up like that? You have an accident?'
+
+"'No,' say the little dog, 'but my master, he just come home from
+France, and I am so glad to see him I bin wagging my tail all day long
+until it get broke and I have to have him wrapped up like this.'"
+
+Then the speaker turned dramatically--with the deepest sense of
+seriousness; without a trace of a smile on his face, without a glimmer
+of consciousness of the fact that the Americans at that banquet were
+biting their teeth to keep from bursting into laughter; and with a grand
+flourish, pointed to the American dignitary and said, "I feel just like
+that little dog. I so glad to see Dr. ---- come to Japan that I have
+been wagging my tail all day long."
+
+But he got no further. The American crowd; full-dressed, and full of
+dignity as it was; exploded. That speech was too much, even for the sake
+of international courtesy, to expect such a crowd to hold in.
+Fortunately most of the educated Japanese there saw the joke and joined
+in the laugh.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We had a funny experience in a dining car on a Japanese train coming
+from northern Japan down to Tokyo one evening.
+
+A well-dressed Japanese in a rich Kimono sat drinking heavily at a table
+a few feet from us.
+
+Suddenly he looked up and yelled "Silence!" looking directly at us.
+
+It was so sudden and so funny that I laughed. This made the Japanese
+gentleman angry.
+
+Then he let forth a more extended English sentence. Later we figured
+that it was the only sentence in English that he knew, and that he had
+learned that sentence by sitting at the feet of some stern, English
+teacher who had occasion to reiterate that sentence frequently.
+
+This drunken Japanese looked at me sternly for laughing and said,
+"Silence! All gentlemen must be silent!"
+
+This was too much for my sense of humor and I laughed again.
+
+"Silence! All gentlemen must be silent!" he yelled a third time.
+
+"We must get away from him; or we'll get into trouble. I can't keep from
+laughing when he repeats that," I said to Dr. Goucher.
+
+We all moved back to another table, but Dr. Goucher sat by himself at a
+little table. This moving, insulted the drunken Japanese and he came
+back to where Dr. Goucher sat and leered into his face yelling once
+again, "All gentlemen must be silent!"
+
+At this one of the party jumped to the side of Dr. Goucher and took the
+Japanese by the shoulder and turned him around and said, "Go! Sit down,
+fool!"
+
+The train was whirling through the night. There were mutterings and
+imprecations among the Japanese and we thought that they were directed
+toward us; but a missionary who could understand the language, said that
+the whole crowd of Japanese was severely reprimanding the drunken
+Japanese for insulting foreigners. They told him in Japanese phrases
+that he ought to be ashamed of insulting foreigners in his own country.
+
+About five minutes after this he suddenly left his seat, came staggering
+down the aisle of the car with a plate full of big red apples and
+offered an apple to each one of us as a peace offering.
+
+We got to calling him, in our party "Old Mr. 'All gentlemen must be
+silent!'" and he came to be a real character in our fun.
+
+But one morning a month later as we were all boarding a train in Fusan,
+Korea, bound for Seoul, who should be sitting in the car but "Old Mr.
+'All gentlemen must be silent.'"
+
+This time he was in American clothes. We had a Japanese friend with us.
+We told this friend about the incident on the train in northern Japan
+and asked him who the man was.
+
+"Why that is a member of the House of Lords and he is going up to Korea
+representing the Diet to make a report on the Korean outrages," we were
+told.
+
+Another month passed and I was coming back from Seoul, Korea, to Tokio,
+Japan, when I suddenly ran into our old friend "All gentlemen must be
+silent!" This time he was drunk again, and sitting in a Japanese dining
+car with the same Kimono on that he had worn the first time we saw him.
+He saw me enter the car.
+
+I tried to avoid him, but he was not to let this opportunity for
+international courtesy go by unnoticed and unimproved. So, much to my
+delight and surprise, he arose, and made a low bow.
+
+I bowed back. He made another bow until his nose almost touched the car.
+I made a return bow. He made a third one. I followed suit. He made a
+fourth. I made a fourth, although I was beginning to feel dizzy and my
+insides were beginning to complain.
+
+I wondered when the thing would stop. I thought of a hundred fat men I
+had seen on a Gymnasium floor trying to do the same thing and touch the
+floor with their hands. I knew that there was a limit to my endurance in
+a test of this kind. He bowed five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten times,
+and I bowed back. I could see things whirling around me.
+
+"Blame it, why doesn't he stop some time!" I said to myself.
+
+I was desperate. Then suddenly I looked at him and he looked at me and
+he said, with great dignity, "All gentlemen must be silent!" and sat
+down, with his friends and his wines.
+
+I don't know whether he realized how funny it was or not. I don't know
+whether he even knew what he was saying in his drunken condition, but I
+do know that when I got out of that car into the vestibule I had the
+laugh of my life. A Japanese woman came by, smiled at me and I am sure
+said to herself:
+
+"Ah, these Americans they are all crazy!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The last Flash-light of Fun is a picture from the Philippines.
+
+I have spoken in the chapter on "Flash-lights of Faith" of the trip to
+the Negrito tribe, but in that chapter I did not speak of the desperate
+adventure of the trip back down the jungle trail to civilization after
+the experience with the old man.
+
+For the second time on that memorable day I dropped in my tracks with a
+sunstroke. My legs refused to move. My muscles were congested with waste
+matter and evidently my brain was also. When I returned to consciousness
+I saw lying beside me Mr. Huddleston, an old missionary who had been in
+the Philippines for many years. Across from, him was a naked Negrito who
+was acting as our guide.
+
+I looked up in a tree above us and saw what I thought was a group of
+monkeys.
+
+"Look at the monkeys!" I said to the missionary.
+
+"There are no monkeys in that tree!" he said.
+
+That made me angry. My mind was affected by the sun to such an extent
+that I had an insane desire to grab the Bolo of the Negrito guide out of
+his belt and run it through the missionary. I made a determined mental
+effort to do so, but my arm would not work. I strove as one strives in a
+dream when he is trying to run away from some imagined danger and his
+feet are tied down. If I could have gotten my hands on that bolo I
+would have run it through the missionary without a minute's hesitation.
+
+But my mind was detracted from this thought by two large elephants which
+I suddenly saw running down the path on which we were lying. I yelled
+aloud!
+
+"The elephants! They will trample us man! Look! There they come!" I
+cried pointing up the trail on which we were lying.
+
+"Why you're plumb crazy man! You've missed too many boats! That sun's
+got you! There are no elephants on this trail!"
+
+"But I know elephants when I see them!" I cried and tried to roll out of
+the trail but again found it impossible to make my brain and my muscles
+coordinate. It was a terrible moment to me.
+
+"My God man! Are you crazy! I know elephants when I see them. They're
+right on us now! Help me out of here! I can't move!"
+
+"I tell you there are no elephants and there are no monkeys in these
+islands. I've been here twenty years or more!"
+
+"But I know elephants when I see them!"
+
+But just at that moment a much greater danger confronted us, for I saw
+three tigers leap out of the jungle and start after the two elephants;
+right down the trail toward us. Then I knew that we were as good as
+dead.
+
+I yelled: "Tigers! Tigers! They are running after the elephants! They
+are on top of us!"
+
+The fool of a missionary laughed aloud, as he lay on the trail and said,
+"Plumb crazy! Plumb crazy! Sun's got him! Sun's got him!"
+
+"Sun's got who, fool? The elephants and tigers will kill us in about a
+minute!"
+
+But just then something happened which upset my calculations and made me
+have a feeling that--after all--perhaps the old missionary was
+right--for suddenly those two elephants; being too closely pursued by
+the tigers; nonchalantly flew into the air like two great birds, and
+lighted in the tree over our heads where I thought the monkeys were. If
+those elephants hadn't started to fly; I should still be arguing with
+the missionary; but as it turned out; I shut my fool mouth and decided
+that the missionary was right and that I had "Missed too many boats."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FREEDOM
+
+
+"SELF-DETERMINATION!" That phrase has set the whole world on fire!
+
+"Independence!" That word somehow has awakened the Oriental world;
+awakened that mass of humanity as it has never been awakened before.
+
+Korea perhaps has thrilled to this awakening as no other section of the
+Orient or the Near and Far East. India's millions are restless; the
+Filipino is hungry for Independence although he is loyal to the United
+States; but Korea has the matter set in its heart like adamant. This
+determination will never be broken; Korea will never be conquered by
+Japan!
+
+This dream of complete and full independence is buried in the souls of
+the children, as well as in the souls of the brave women, and of the old
+men of Korea.
+
+"It is one of the most thrilling things I have ever seen in the Orient!"
+said a man on the Editorial staff of _Millard's Weekly_. "It is the most
+significant outcome of the war; Korea's passion for independence, and
+the Student Movement in China!"
+
+I said to a business man of California who had traveled all over the
+Orient and who had been sent as part of the Commission that prepared the
+way for the abandonment of the Picture Bride custom, "What is the most
+significant thing you have seen in the Orient?"
+
+"The determination of the Koreans for Self-determination!" was his quick
+reply.
+
+"Will they get it?"
+
+"It is inevitable in time!" he responded, and then he added: "Why the
+little rascals; the children, I mean; paint the Korean flags on their
+brown bellies, because the Japanese gendarmes will not allow them to
+display the Korean flag in public!" and he laughed aloud at the memory.
+
+"Have you seen Korean kiddies with flags painted on their stomachs?"
+
+"Dozens of them. They like to show them to Americans," he said.
+
+A week later I was walking with a Korean missionary and asked him if
+what the business man from California had told me about the children was
+true and he said, "Wait until we find a group of them."
+
+We waited for only a few minutes when we ran into a crowd coming home
+from school. A friendly smile and a low-voiced "Mansei" got attention.
+
+Then we pointed to our own stomachs.
+
+In a flash they caught on to what we wanted and, looking around
+cautiously, each little rascal untied his robe and there, sure enough
+was the flag of his country painted on his stomach.
+
+"That is one of the most thrilling sights I have seen in the Orient!" I
+said with tears in my eyes. "If the children of the land feel that way,
+Korea will never be conquered!"
+
+"The American understands! The American understands!" one of the little
+bright-eyed boys said to the missionary in Korean.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A missionary was teaching a class of Koreans about Heaven.
+
+A little hand shot up.
+
+The missionary nodded that the child could speak.
+
+"Will there be any Japs in Heaven?"
+
+This was a baffling question; for diplomatic destinies were at stake.
+But missionaries are usually honest, so she said, "Yes, if they are good
+Japs!"
+
+"Then I don't want to go!" said the little eight-year-old Korean with
+emphasis.
+
+Another teacher was telling a class in Geography to draw a map of the
+Orient.
+
+One Korean child said, "Do we have to put in that little group of
+islands east of the coast of China?"
+
+I met one Korean whom I had known in America. He was educated in the
+American universities. He was in every sense of the word a gentleman and
+an intellectual.
+
+He told me that the older children of his family had taught the
+nine-months-old baby to raise its hands in the air above its head
+whenever the word "Mansei" was spoken.
+
+I got an electrical shock of patriotism the day I saw that tiny child
+lift its little arms above its head when that sacred word was spoken. It
+was like a benediction of freedom!
+
+"This posture of the child is more significant," said Mr. ----, "when
+you know that the most cruel method of torture that the Japanese use is
+that of stretching a man, woman or child up by the thumbs to the ceiling
+with his toes just touching the floor."
+
+In that same posture of torture Koreans rise to their toes when they
+give their national cry of "Mansei" for all the world like an American
+student giving his college yell.
+
+"It means life and death to give that cry as you know," said this
+intelligent Korean.
+
+"Then what will your children do when they grow a bit older and go out
+on the streets and yell this cry?" I asked this intelligent father.
+
+"Be killed, no doubt, by some ignorant, ruthless Japanese gendarme!" he
+said with finality.
+
+"Then you should not allow them to teach its tiny lips that word!" I
+said.
+
+"I would rather my child were dead than to have it forget that cry!"
+
+In this same family one Sunday afternoon a two-year-old child was
+sleeping on a mat. The father and mother were reading some American
+papers sent them by their old college friends in the United States.
+
+Suddenly that little two-year-old sat straight up in its mat bed, lifted
+its arms in the air and shouted "Mansei! Mansei! Mansei!" three times
+and then dropped back to sleep as if nothing had happened.
+
+"How did you feel?" I asked my Korean friend.
+
+"It made me cry. I said to my wife 'As long as Korea has babies with
+that in their little souls before they are two years of age, Korea will
+never be assimilated by Japan!'"
+
+The children of Korea look up at the ceiling when a Japanese teacher
+enters a room. They are compelled to have Japanese teachers; even in the
+mission schools. The children refuse to do anything for a Japanese
+teacher.
+
+One day a Japanese teacher thought that he would break that mood by
+telling a funny story. He told it with skill.
+
+But not a child laughed, although one of them said to her father that
+night, "It was hard not to laugh for it was a very funny story!"
+
+"Who tells you to do these things; you students? Who teaches you to
+treat your Japanese teachers in that manner?" my Korean friend asked his
+six-year-old child.
+
+"Nobody tells us; we just do it ourselves! All the children hate the
+Japanese!" he replied with the wisdom of a grown man.
+
+All over Korea we saw Korean flags cut in walls, carved on stones, and
+against excavations where the sand was impressionable to little fingers
+and sticks. I took many photographs of these unconventional flags.
+
+There is one instance where Korean children went on a strike just at
+Commencement time. It meant that they would not get their diplomas but
+that was just the reason they did it: to show their contempt for
+Japanese diplomas.
+
+Japanese authorities begged them to return to school.
+
+Finally on Commencement Day they decided to return.
+
+Something had happened.
+
+It was a day of rejoicing among the Japanese so they invited a lot of
+Japanese officers to the Commencement exercises.
+
+The diplomas were given, to each boy; the Japanese teachers bowing, and
+smiling in their peculiar way.
+
+Then a thirteen-year-old Korean boy stepped to the front to make the
+address of thanks. He made a beautiful speech of thanks. The Japanese
+teachers were bowing with delight.
+
+But the boy's speech was not finished. He paused toward the end, threw
+back his blouse, lifted his proud head and said, "I have only this one
+thing further to add."
+
+He knew the seriousness of what he was about to do. He knew that it
+would possibly mean death to him and his relatives.
+
+"We want but one thing of you Japanese. You have given us education, and
+you have given us these diplomas. The teachers have been good to us."
+
+Then he reached in his blouse and pulled out a Korean flag. To have one
+in one's possession is a crime in Korea in the judgment of the Japanese.
+
+Waving it above his little head he cried, "Give us back our country! May
+Korea live a thousand years! Mansei! Mansei! Mansei!"
+
+At that signal every boy in that school jumped to his feet, whipped out
+a Korean flag and frantically waved it in the air, weeping and yelling
+in wild abandonment to the faith and courage of freedom in their
+hearts!
+
+Then they tore their diplomas up before the horrified and angered
+Japanese teachers.
+
+The result was a great student demonstration for freedom; which was
+broken up by a force of Japanese gendarmes with drawn swords; but not
+before the shooting of many boys and girls; and not before over four
+hundred girls and boys were thrown into prison; some of them never to
+emerge.
+
+In the chapter on "Flash-lights of Faith" I told the story of the
+seventy-five-year-old Korean who unflinchingly faced the Japanese
+gendarmes and admitted that he knew the source from which the
+Independence Movement had come; and knew the signers of the Declaration
+personally; every one of them. This spirit burns in the heart of, not
+only the babies of Korea but also in the souls of the white haired
+stately patriarchs.
+
+One old man who was dumb had his own way of expressing his patriotism
+when "Mansei" was yelled. He always lifted his arms above his head. He
+could not speak but he could yell with his arms!
+
+This placed the Japanese authorities in the ridiculous position of
+arresting a dumb man for yelling "Mansei!"
+
+They tortured him for months. He was told that he would be released if
+he would promise never to lift his hands above his head again.
+
+He could not speak in answer to their demands. They waited.
+
+Suddenly he caught their meaning. They were trying to frighten him from
+giving vent to his only method of showing his patriotism.
+
+His eyes flashed fire. He leapt to his feet with a contemptuous look at
+his Japanese captors.
+
+Then like flashing piston rods of steel his arms shot into the air above
+his head three times, shouting in their mute patriotism, "Mansei!
+Mansei! Mansei!"
+
+Nor are the women void of this determination for freedom. It beats in
+their brave hearts. It is a great flame in their souls as well as in the
+hearts of the children and men of the peninsula.
+
+"The soul's armor is never set well to heart unless a woman's hand has
+braced it, and it is only when she braces it loosely that the honor of
+manhood fails!" says Robert McKenna in "The Adventure of Life."
+
+If that is a true definition of the strength of honor and the desire for
+freedom then the armor of the Korean men is well set.
+
+Sauci, a young Korean girl was under arrest. She was just a school girl
+and very beautiful; with dark brown eyes; skin the color of a walnut;
+and a form, bred of the grace of her much walking race. She had walked
+the innumerable trails of her native land from babyhood and the rhythmic
+swing of her supple body would have made any race, save that of her
+conquerors, reverent with admiration.
+
+Sauci was too much for her Japanese captors.
+
+The Japanese guard struck her across the mouth with a whip.
+
+"That doesn't hurt me. That is the grace of God. I don't hate you for
+that blow!" said Sauci.
+
+This angered the Jap and he struck her again. This stroke left a streak
+of blood across her face.
+
+Sauci said again, "That doesn't hurt me. That is the grace of God. I do
+not hate you for striking me!"
+
+The gendarme was furious. His anger was like that of a beast. He flew at
+her blindly, and struck, struck, struck her woman's body until he was
+exhausted.
+
+A few days later when she was recovering from that brutal beating, a
+high official of the Japanese gendarme force came to see her.
+
+"Sauci," said he to her, recognizing her for an intelligent Korean girl,
+"why do not the Koreans like us?"
+
+She replied, "I had a dream last night here in the cell. That will tell
+you why. In my dream a visitor came to our home and stayed for dinner.
+Then instead of going home, the visitor stayed all night. Then the
+visitor stayed two or three days. Then two or three months. Then two or
+three years. We were surprised but were too polite to say anything.
+
+"But finally the visitor got to telling us how to run our house."
+
+"How?" asked the Japanese official, "Did the visitor tell you how to run
+your house?"
+
+"The visitor," replied Sauci, "told us that he didn't like our wall
+paper. 'I think you had better get new paper!' he said. 'I do not like
+your clothes and your schools. Wear clothes like mine, and have schools
+like mine. I do not like your way of talking. Learn my language!'
+
+"So finally we got tired of our visitor and said, 'Please go home! WE do
+not like you! We do not want you! Please go home!'"
+
+"But what has that to do with us?" said the Japanese official.
+
+"Why in a few days the visitor in my dream went home!" said Sauci
+simply. "And in a few years the Japanese will go back home also!" Such
+is the courageous spirit of the Korean women.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One day an American friend of mine had gone to the Police Station with a
+young Korean girl who had been summoned to appear on what was called a
+"rearrest charge."
+
+For the Japanese feel perfectly free to rearrest a person even after
+that person has been proven innocent of a charge. A Korean may be
+rearrested any time. He can never feel free.
+
+This young, educated girl had been subjected to such indignities on her
+previous arrest as I would not be able to describe in this book; so she
+begged the woman friend to go with her.
+
+As she entered the station a rough, ignorant Japanese officer snarled at
+her as she passed, "Hello! Are you here again? I thought you were still
+in prison!"
+
+When he had gone from the room the Korean girl said to the American
+woman, "That man beat me for ten hours one day the last time I was in
+prison!"
+
+"Why did he beat you?" asked the missionary.
+
+"He was trying to compel me to give him the names of those girls who
+belonged to the 'Woman's League'."
+
+"And you would not tell him their names?"
+
+"I would rather have been beaten to death than give him their names!"
+
+"Thank God for your courage!" said the missionary, for she had seen the
+girl's body when she had gotten out of prison; the burns of cigarette
+stumps all over her beautiful skin; the scars, the whip marks; the
+desecrations.
+
+When I was told this story, amid the tears of the narrator, an American
+college woman, she concluded with fire in her soul: "I have never seen
+such courage on the part of women in all my life! Even mere girls and
+children have it. Most of those who are arrested come out of our
+American Missionary schools. There isn't a one of them who doesn't have
+in her soul the spirit of Joan of Arc. If France had one Joan of Arc,
+Korea has ten thousand!"
+
+One young girl of whom I heard was kept in prison under constant torture
+for six months. And a cruel imprisonment it is. I visited this prison
+myself one winter day when I was in Korea. The thermometer was at zero;
+the snow covered the ground, and there wasn't a fire in a single room in
+that prison save where the Japanese guards were staying, and they were
+huddled around a roaring coal stove.
+
+And this is the show prison of the whole Peninsula. The Japanese take
+visitors through it. But to an American even it is fit only for the
+darkness of the Middle Ages.
+
+In its limited quarters I saw ten and fifteen young girls, sweet faced,
+cultured, educated school girls, huddled together in narrow rooms,
+without a single chair, so closely packed that they were seated on the
+floor like bees in a hive.
+
+After six months of this awful life the girl of whom I speak was about
+to be released.
+
+The guard questioned her. "Now what are you going to do?"
+
+Her answer came, quick as a shot, although she knew that it would send
+her back to the hell from which she was about to be released.
+
+"It is either liberty for Korea or we die!" she said.
+
+And in three minutes, beaten, and dragged on the ground by the hair she
+was thrown into the cell from which she had been taken; to rot and die
+as far as the Japanese were concerned.
+
+Another girl who had been kept in jail 135 days without even a charge
+having been preferred against her was released. Her old mother came to
+meet her and while in Seoul the mother attended an Independence Meeting
+for women. The whole crowd of women then went to the Police Station and
+shouted "Mansei"!
+
+The mother was arrested and cruelly beaten in spite of her seventy-five
+years of age.
+
+When they were through beating her they said, "Now will you refrain from
+yelling, 'Mansei!'"
+
+"Never!" said this old woman.
+
+Then they took a bar of iron and beat her over the legs until she
+dropped.
+
+"Now will you refrain from yelling 'Mansei?'"
+
+The old woman was weak, but in a low, painful whisper said, "The next
+time the women come to yell, if I am able to walk I will be with them!"
+
+Another old woman was brought to prison for yelling "Mansei!" When they
+asked her why she yelled "Mansei" she answered in a sentence that sums
+up the entire spirit that is in the woman-heart of Korea.
+
+"I have only one word in my head and that is 'Mansei!'"
+
+I personally, one day in Korea, saw the Japanese gendarmes come for a
+Korean girl. She was one of the most popular girls in the American
+Methodist Missionary School.
+
+It was the common custom for Japanese officials to come and take Korean
+girls out of these schools, without warning, without warrants, without
+words, and carry them off to prison.
+
+Often the girl was not even permitted to say good-by to her American
+teachers or to write a word to her parents.
+
+"They are not even permitted to supply themselves with toilet articles,"
+said the matron to me that day.
+
+On this day, six big, brutal, ugly faced, animal-like Japanese officers
+came for this beautiful girl.
+
+The missionary women wept as the girl was dragged away. The girl waved
+good-by.
+
+It was a sight never to be forgotten; one of those Flash-lights of
+Freedom, which burned its way into my soul with the hot acid of
+indignation. This injustice and indecency in the treatment of a pure
+girl made my blood run hot in my veins.
+
+The look on her face I shall never forget. It was such a look as the
+martyrs of old must have had when they died for their faith.
+
+"Good-by! Good-by! Give my love to Mary and Elizabeth!" she cried to the
+missionary woman standing by, helpless to assist her. These two names
+were children of the missionary home; children whom this Korean girl had
+learned to love as she lived in this American home.
+
+"And the awful thing about it all, is," said the missionary to me as
+they took the girl away, "that, as pure as that girl is, as pure as a
+flower, she will be taken to a prison fifty miles from Seoul, kept there
+under torture for six months, and she will not be allowed to see her
+friends. They will not even allow us to visit her. She may be undressed
+and spat upon by men who are lower than animals. She may suffer even
+worse than that----"
+
+Then the American missionary woman fainted.
+
+That flash-light may be duplicated a hundred times in Korea.
+
+"The woman of Korea suffers as much as the man. But thank God they do
+not flinch!" said an American missionary.
+
+The Japanese Gendarmes have forbidden the singing of several of the
+great church hymns in mission churches because they insist that these
+are hymns of Freedom; that they foment what the Japanese call "Dangerous
+Ideas." Japanese spies have reported certain Seoul Methodist churches
+for singing hymns that, to their way of thinking, were directed against
+the Japanese Government. This particular illustration of the peculiar
+workings of the Japanese mind might have been included in the chapter on
+Flash-lights of Fun; were it not for the fact that the Japanese officers
+themselves call these old church hymns "Hymns of Freedom."
+
+The Japanese are just as much afraid of these "Dangerous Thoughts" in
+Japan as they are in Korea. A good illustration of this fear is the fact
+that a certain picture corporation of America called "The Liberty Film
+Company" sent several films to Japan. The Government would not allow
+these pictures to be shown until that word "Liberty" was cut from the
+film.
+
+Certain Japanese spies reported a Mission church in Seoul for singing
+"Rock of Ages."
+
+"But why may we not sing 'Rock of Ages'?" asked the American preacher in
+charge.
+
+"Because it starts off with 'Mansei!'" replied the officer.
+
+He interpreted the thought of "Rock of Ages" to be a direct imputation
+that the Japanese Government was not able to take care of the Koreans
+and that they were flying to some other protecting power.
+
+"It would be funny if it were not so serious!" said a missionary to me
+one day in Seoul.
+
+Later they stopped the churches from singing "Nearer My God to Thee,"
+because there seemed to be an implication in that, that those who sang
+that hymn, were swearing allegiance to a higher power than that of
+Japan.
+
+"Ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous!" I said in disgust.
+
+"Yes, ridiculous, but serious," replied the missionary, "when you have
+to live with it year in and year out."
+
+"Crown Him Lord of All," insisted the Japanese spies, when they
+seriously reported a certain church for singing that old hymn was
+"Dangerous Thought." It seemed to this ignorant spy that "Crowning Him"
+was putting some other power before that of the Japanese Government.
+
+"All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name" has been put under the ban and when
+a certain missionary woman was asked to sing at the Korean Y.M.C.A. and
+announced that she was going to sing "Oh, Rest in the Lord" she was
+advised not to sing it because it was considered by the gendarmes to be
+"Dangerous Thought" and to suggest "Liberty," "Freedom" and such
+dangerous words and ideas.
+
+When one Protestant preacher prayed about "Casting Out Devils" he was
+reported by Japanese spies, who insisted that he was talking about
+Japanese in Korea and meant that these should be cast out of the land.
+
+"'It is to laugh!' as the French say!" I responded to this story.
+
+"No! It is to weep!" said the American missionary.
+
+When Dr. Frank W. Schoefield spoke against Prostitution the Japanese
+papers declared that he had made a virulent attack on the Government.
+
+One Korean preacher who preached on a theme from Luke 4:18, which reads
+"Setting the captives free," was arrested and kept in jail for four
+days.
+
+"It is very foolish to yell 'Mansei' when you know you will be killed,"
+I said to a Korean preacher. I wanted to see how he would take that
+suggestion.
+
+"We Koreans would rather be under the ground than on top of it if we do
+not get our liberty!" he said with a thrill in his quiet voice.
+
+One day a Korean preacher was arrested for preaching on the theme, "Seek
+ye first the Kingdom of God and all these things shall be added unto
+you," because that was, without doubt, disloyal to Japan and meant
+rebellion.
+
+Another day a speaker in the Y.M.C.A. said, "Arise and let us build for
+the new age!" He was asked to report to Police Headquarters just what he
+meant by that kind of "Dangerous" talk about Freedom.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FAILURE
+
+
+Three great Flash-lights of Failure stand out in the Far East and the
+Oriental world to-day; one being the failure of a race to survive,
+another being the failure of the world to understand that Shantung is
+the Holy Land and not the appendix of China; this sacred shrine of the
+Chinese which has so carelessly and listlessly been given over to Japan;
+and the third being Japan's failure to understand that methods of
+barbarism from the Dark Ages will not work in a modern civilization.
+
+"Why are they making all this fuss over Shantung?" an acquaintance of
+mine said to me just before I left America. "Isn't it just a sort of an
+appendix of China, after all? If I were the Chinese, I'd forget Shantung
+and go on to centralize and develop what I had."
+
+That was glibly said, but the fact which the statement leaves out of
+reckoning is that Shantung is the very heart and soul of China instead
+of being the appendix.
+
+The average American has so often thought of China just as China; a
+great, big, indefinite, far-off nation of four hundred million people,
+always stated in round numbers, that Shantung doesn't mean much to us.
+Yes, but it means much to China.
+
+It means about the same as if some nation should come along and take New
+England from us; New England, the seat of all our most sacred history,
+the beginning of our national life, the oldest of our traditions, the
+burial-place of our early founders, the seat of our religious genesis. I
+don't believe that many folks in New England would desire to be called
+an appendix of the United States.
+
+So one of the things that I was determined to do when I went to China
+was to go from one end of Shantung to the other, talking with coolies,
+officials, old men and young men, students, and those who can neither
+read nor write; missionaries and soldiers; natives and foreigners; to
+see just what importance Shantung is to China as a whole.
+
+The first thing I discovered was that it has about forty million people
+living within the limits of the peninsula, close to half the population
+of the United States. Does that sound as if it might be China's
+appendix? You wouldn't think so if you saw the cities, roads and fields
+of this great stretch of land literally swarming with human beings, and
+every last one of them, as busy as ants.
+
+I rode one whole day across the peninsula. I happened to be traveling
+with a man from Kansas. He was a man interested in farming and
+wheat-growing. For hundreds of miles we had been passing through land
+that was absolutely level and every inch of it cultivated. I had been
+saying to myself over and over again, "Why, it's exactly like our Middle
+West Country."
+
+Then much to my astonishment this Kansas man turned to me, and said,
+"Did it ever occur to you that these fields of Shantung look just like
+Kansas?"
+
+"Yes, it has just occurred to me this minute," I responded.
+
+Then the wife of the Kansas man said, "I have been shutting my eyes and
+trying to imagine that I was in Kansas, it's so much like home."
+
+"And say, man, but a tractor on those fields would work wonders," added
+a portion of William Allen White's reading constituency.
+
+And that is exactly how Shantung strikes an American when he has ridden
+all day through its great stretches of level fields. He can easily
+imagine himself riding through Kansas for a day.
+
+My first visit to Shantung was at Tsingtao, the headquarters of the
+German concession and now of the Japanese concession. I spent a day
+there, and took photographs of the wharves and town. On the wharves
+were still standing hundreds of boxes marked with German names and the
+inevitable phrase "Made in Germany." Those boxes were mute reminders of
+the evacuation of one nation from a foreign soil. But standing side by
+side with these boxes were also other hundreds, already being shot into
+Shantung in a steady stream; and these boxes have a new trademark
+printed in every case in English and Japanese, "Made in Japan."
+
+I spent several days in Tsinanfu and Tientsin, two great inland cities,
+and more than a week in cruising about through Shantung's little towns,
+its villages and its sacred spots.
+
+I heard of its mines and of its physical wealth. But the world already
+knows of that. The world already knows that this physical wealth of
+mines and raw material was what made it look good to Germany and Japan.
+But the thing that impressed me was its spiritual wealth.
+
+The thing that makes Shantung attractive to the Japanese, of course, is
+not the spiritual wealth, as the world well knows. Perhaps the Japanese
+have never considered the latter any more than the Germans did; but the
+one thing that makes it most sacred to the Chinese, who are, after all,
+a race of idealists, is its treasuries of spiritual memories and
+shrines.
+
+In the first place, many Chinese will tell you that it is the "cradle of
+the Chinese race." I am not sure that histories will confirm this
+statement. And I am also not sure that that makes any difference as long
+as the idea is buried in the heart of the Chinese people. A tradition
+often means as much to a race as a fact. And the tradition certainly is
+well established that Shantung is the birthplace of all Chinese history.
+So that is one of the deeply rooted spiritual facts that makes Shantung
+sacred to the Chinese.
+
+The second spiritual gold mine is that one of its cities, Chufu, is the
+birthplace and the last resting-place of the sage Confucius. And China
+is literally impregnated with Confusian philosophy and Confucian
+sayings.
+
+I took a trip to this shrine in order to catch some of the spiritual
+atmosphere of the Shantung loss. The trip made it necessary to tramp
+about fifteen miles coming and going through as dusty a desert as I ever
+saw, but that was a trifle compared with the thrill that I had as I
+stood at last before the little mound about as high as a California
+bungalow; the mound that held the dust of this great Chinese sage.
+During the war I stood before the grave of Napoleon in France. Before I
+went to France I visited Grant's tomb. I have also stood many times
+beside a little mound in West Virginia, the resting-place of my mother,
+and I think that I know something of the sacredness of such experiences
+to a human heart, but somehow the thrill that came to me on that January
+morning, warm with sunlight, spicy with winter cold, produced a feeling
+too deep for mere printed words to convey.
+
+"If we feel as we do standing here on this sacred spot, think of how the
+Chinese feel toward their own sage!" said an old missionary of the
+party.
+
+"Yes," added another, "and remember that the Chinese revere their
+ancestors and their sages and their shrines more than we ever dream of
+doing. Any grave is a sacred spot to them, so much so that railroads
+have to run their trunk lines for miles in a detour to avoid graves.
+These Chinese are idealists of the first water. They live in the past,
+and they dream of the future."
+
+"When you get these facts into your American heads," added a third
+member of the party, not without some bitterness, "then you will begin
+to know that the Chinese do not estimate the loss of Shantung in terms
+of mineral wealth."
+
+At Chufu, the resting-place of Confucius, there is also the spot of his
+birth, and this too is most sacred to the Chinese nation. We visited
+both places. I think that I never before quite realized just what the
+loss of Shantung meant to these Chinese until that day, unless it was
+the next day, when we climbed the sacred mountain Taishan, which is
+also in Shantung.
+
+"It is the oldest worshiping-place in the world," said the historian of
+the party. "There is no other spot on earth where continuous worship has
+gone on so long. Here for more than twenty centuries before Christ was
+born men and women were worshiping. Emperors from the oldest history of
+China down to the present time have all visited this mountain to
+worship. Confucius himself climbed the more than six thousand steps to
+worship here."
+
+"Yes," said another missionary historian, "and this mountain is referred
+to twelve separate times in the Chinese classics, and great pilgrimages
+were made here as long ago as two centuries before Christ."
+
+That day we climbed the mountain up more than six thousand stone steps,
+which are in perfect condition and which were engineered thousands of
+years ago by early worshipers.
+
+The only climb with which I can compare that of Mt. Taishan is that of
+Mt. Tamalpais overlooking San Francisco. The climb is about equal to
+that. The mountain itself is about a mile in height, and the climb is a
+hard one to those who are unaccustomed to mountain-climbing, and yet
+thousands upon thousands climb it every year after pilgrimages from all
+over China.
+
+We climbed to the top of Taishan, and saw the "No-Character Stone"
+erected by Emperor Chin, he who tried to drive learning out of China
+hundreds of years ago. We saw the spot on which Confucius stood, and
+glimpsed the Pacific Ocean, ninety miles away, on a clear day. It was a
+hard climb; but, when one stood on the top of this, the most sacred
+mountain of all China, he began to understand the spiritual loss that is
+China's when her worshiping-place is in the hands of aliens.
+
+"And don't forget that Mencius, the first disciple of Confucius, was
+born and died in Shantung, too, when you are taking census of the
+spiritual values of Shantung to the Chinese," was a word of caution from
+the old missionary who was checking up on my facts for me. He had been
+laboring in China for a quarter of a century.
+
+"And don't forget that the Boxer uprising originated in Shantung, and
+don't forget that it is called, and has been for centuries, 'the Sacred
+Province' by the Chinese. It is their 'Holy Land.' And don't forget
+that, from Shantung, coolies went to South Africa in the early part of
+this century and that the Chinese from Shantung were the first to get in
+touch with the western world. And don't forget that nine-tenths of the
+coolies who went to help in the war in France were from Shantung!" he
+added with emphasis. This was a thing that I well knew, for I had, only
+a few weeks before this, seen two thousand coolies unloaded from the
+_Empress of Asia_ at Tsingtao.
+
+No, Shantung is not an appendix of China, as many Americans suppose; but
+it is the very heart and soul of China. It is China's "Holy Land." It is
+the "Cradle of China." It is the "Sacred Province of China." It is the
+shrine of her greatest sage. It is the home of "the oldest
+worshiping-place on earth." It is because of its spiritual values that
+China is unhappy about the loss of Shantung, and not because of its
+wealth of material things.
+
+The failure of the world to understand what Shantung means to China and
+the failure of Japan to understand that they cannot for many years stand
+out against the indignation of the entire world in continuing to keep
+Shantung is one of the great spiritual failures of the Far East in our
+century.
+
+The second great failure is the tragic failure of an entire race of
+people; that of the Ainu Indians of Japan.
+
+It is a pathetic thing to see a human race dying out; coming to "The End
+of the Trail." But I was determined to see them, in spite of the fact
+that people told me I would have to travel from one end of Japan to the
+other; and then cross four hours of sea before I got to Hokkaido, the
+most northern island of Japan, where lived the tattered remnants of
+this once noble race.
+
+The name of this dying race is pronounced as if it were spelled I-new
+with a long I.
+
+These are the people who inhabited Japan before the present Japanese
+entered the land from Korea and drove them, inch by inch, back and north
+and west across Japan. It was a stubborn fight, and it has lasted many
+centuries; but to-day they have been driven up on the island of
+Hokkaido, that northern frontier of Japan where the overflow of Japan is
+pouring at the rate of four thousand a year, making two million to date
+and only about fifty thousand of them Ainus.
+
+"Are they like our American Indians in looks, since their history is so
+much like them?" I asked my missionary friend.
+
+"Wait until you see them, and decide for yourself. I know very little
+about American Indians."
+
+So one morning at three o'clock, after traveling for two days and nights
+from one end of Japan to the other, and then crossing a strait between
+the Japan Sea and the Pacific Ocean to the island, we climbed from our
+train, and landed in a little country railroad station.
+
+It was blowing a blizzard, and the snow crashed into our faces with
+stinging, whip-like snaps.
+
+I was appointed stoker for the small stove in the station while the
+rest of the party tried to sleep on the benches arranged in a circle,
+huddled as close as they could get to the stove.
+
+We were the first party of foreigners of this size that had ever honored
+the village with a visit. And in addition to that we had come at an
+unearthly hour.
+
+Who but a group of insane foreigners would drop into a town at three
+o'clock in the morning with a blizzard blowing? Either we were insane,
+or we had some sinister motives. Perhaps we were making maps of the
+seacoast.
+
+And before daylight half of the town was peeking in through the windows
+at us. Then the policemen came. They were Japanese policemen, and did
+not take any chances on us. Even after our interpreter had told them
+that we were a group of scientists who had come to visit the Ainus they
+still followed us around most of the morning, keeping polite track of
+our movements.
+
+About five o'clock that morning, as I was trying to catch a cat-nap, the
+newsboys of the village came to get the morning papers which had come in
+on the train on which we had arrived. They unbundled the papers in the
+cold station; their breath forming clouds of vapor; laughing and joking
+as they unrolled, folded and counted the papers; and arranged their
+routes for morning delivery.
+
+It took me back to boyhood days down in West Virginia. I did the same
+thing as these Japanese boys were doing. I, too, arose before daylight,
+climbed out of bed, and went whistling through the dark streets to the
+station where the early morning trains dumped off the papers from the
+city. I, too, along with several other American boys of a winter
+morning, breathed clouds of vapor into the air, stamped my feet to keep
+them warm, and whipped my hands against my sides. I, too, unwrapped the
+big bundles of papers, and did it in the same way in which these
+Japanese boys did, by smashing the tightly bound wrappers on the floor
+until they burst. I, too, counted, folded, put in inserts, arranged my
+paper-route and darted out into the frosty air with the snow crunching
+under my feet. How universal some things are. The only difference was
+that these boys were dressed in a sort of buccaneer uniform. They had on
+high leather boots, and belts around their coats that made them look as
+if they had stepped out of a Richard Harding Davis novel. But otherwise
+they went through the same processes as an American boy in a small town.
+
+When the vanguard of villagers had come to inspect us, they at first
+tried to talk Russian to us. They had never seen any other kind of
+foreigners. They had never seen Americans in this far-off island.
+
+When daylight came, we started out on a long tramp to the Ainu villages.
+They were a mile or two away on the ocean. These people always build
+near the sea if they can. Fishing is one of their main sources of food.
+
+We spent the day in their huts. They live like animals. A big, square
+hut covered with rice straw and thatch, with a fence of the same kind of
+straw running around the house, forms the residence. The only fire is in
+the middle of the only room, and this consists of a pile of wood burning
+on a flat stone or piece of metal in the center. There is no chimney in
+the roof, and not even an opening such as the American Indians had in
+the tops of their tepees. I do not know how they live. The smoke finds
+its way gradually through cracks in the walls and roofs. One can hardly
+find a single Ainu whose eyes are not ruined. The smoke has done this
+damage.
+
+The only opening in their houses besides the door is one north window,
+and it is never closed. In fact, there is no window. It is only an
+opening.
+
+"Why is that? I'd think they would freeze on a day like this," I said to
+the guide.
+
+"They keep it that way all winter, and it gets a good deal below zero
+here," he said.
+
+"But why do they do it?" old Shylock demanded.
+
+"It is part of their religion. They believe that the god comes in that
+window. They want it open, so that he can come in whenever he wishes. It
+offends them greatly when you stick your head through that window."
+
+Pat tried it just to see what would happen, just like a man who looks
+into the barrel of a gun, or a man who takes a watch apart, or wants to
+hit a "dud" with a hammer just to see whether it is a dud. The result
+was bad. There was a sudden series of outlandish yells from the
+household. I think that every man, woman and child, including the dogs,
+of which there were many, started at once. I wonder now how Pat escaped
+alive, and only under the assumption that "the good die young" can I
+explain his escape.
+
+I wanted some arrows to take to America as souvenirs; and, when an old
+Indian pulled out a lot of metal arrows on long bows with which he had
+killed more than a hundred bears, I was not satisfied. They were not the
+kind of arrows I wanted.
+
+"What kind are you looking for?" I was asked.
+
+"Flint arrow-heads," I responded.
+
+"Why, man, these Indians have known the use of metals for five hundred
+years. The stone age with them is half a thousand years in the past."
+
+"Have they a history?" I wanted to know.
+
+My interpreter, who has much knowledge of these things, having worked
+among them for years, said, "All of the Japanese mythology is centered
+about the battles that took place when these Indians were driven out of
+Japan proper step by step."
+
+I was surprised to find that they were white people compared with the
+Japanese who were their conquerors. There are other marked differences.
+The Ainus are broad between the eyes instead of narrow as are the
+Japanese. They are rather square-headed like Americans as compared with
+the oval of the Japanese face. They do not have markedly slant eyes, and
+they are white-skinned. They might feel at home in any place in America.
+I have seen many old men at home who look like them, old men with
+beards. This came as a distinct surprise to me.
+
+At each house, just in front of the ever-open window of which I have
+spoken, there is a little crude shrine. It is more like a small fence
+than anything that I know, a most crude affair made of broken bamboo
+poles. Flowers and vines are planted here to beautify this shrine, and
+every pole has a bear-skull on it. The more bear-skulls you have, the
+safer you are and the more religious you have become.
+
+Pat was sacrilegious enough to steal a skull in order to get the teeth,
+which he wanted as souvenirs. I was chagrined and shocked at Pat's lack
+of religious propriety. However, I was enticed into accepting one of the
+teeth after Pat had knocked them out and stolen them.
+
+"How do they worship bears and kill them at the same time?" I queried
+the guide.
+
+"That's a part of the worship. They kill the bear, slowly singing and
+chanting as they kill him. They think that the spirit of every bear that
+they kill comes into their own souls. That's why they kill so many. That
+seventy-year-old rascal over there has killed a hundred. He is a great
+man in his tribe."
+
+"If I was a bear," commented Pat, "I'd rather they wouldn't worship me.
+That's a funny way to show reverence to a god. I'd rather be their devil
+and live than be their god and die." Pat is sometimes loquacious. "They
+dance about the poor old bear as they kill him. One fellow will hurl an
+arrow into his side, and then cry out, 'O spirit of the great bear-god,
+come enter into me, and make me strong and brave like you! Come, take up
+thine abode in my house! Come, be a part of me! Let thy strength and thy
+courage be my strength and my courage!'"
+
+"Then," said the interpreter, "he hurls another arrow into him."
+
+"And what is Mr. Bear doing all that time?"
+
+"Mr. Bear is helpless. He is captured first in a trap, and then kept and
+fattened for the killing. He is tied to a tree during the killing
+ceremony."
+
+"All I gotta say is that they're darned poor sports," said Flintlock
+with indignation. "They're poor sports not to give Mr. Bear a fighting
+chance."
+
+And old Flintlock has voiced the sentiments of the entire party.
+
+Everybody that was at the Panama Pacific International Exposition will
+remember the magnificent statue of an Indian there. This Indian was
+riding a horse, and both were worn out and drooping. A spear which
+dragged on the ground in front of the pony was further evidence of the
+weariness of the horse and rider. The title of this Fraser bronze was
+"The End of the Trail," and it was intended to tell the story of a
+vanishing race, the American Indians. But even more could that picture
+tell the story of the Ainus of Japan.
+
+"They will be entirely extinct in a quarter of a century," our guide
+said. "They are going fast. They used to be vigorous and militant, as
+Japanese mythology shows. They were a fighting race. They built their
+houses by the sea. They used to go out for miles to fish, but now they
+are so petered out that they go only to the mouths of the rivers to
+fish. They used to hunt in the mountains, but they do not take
+hunting-trips any more. Venereal diseases and rum (saki) have depleted
+them year by year, just as in the case of our American Indians. They are
+largely sterile now. They used to build their own boats, but they build
+no more. It is a biological old age. Their day is through."
+
+"It is a sad thing to see a race dying out," said Pat.
+
+"Especially a white race, as these Ainus seem to be," said another
+member of the party.
+
+And back to the village we went silently, plodding through a driving
+blizzard that bore in upon us with terrific force. As we fought our way
+through this blizzard, I could not help feeling a great sense of
+depression. It is a fearful thing to see anything die, especially a race
+of human beings. That is a great epic tragedy worthy of a Shakespeare.
+That is enough to wring the soul of the gods. That a race has played the
+game, has been powerful and conquering and triumphant, and then step by
+step has petered out and become weak and senile until biological decay
+has set in--that is fearful.
+
+Another illustration of the ignominious failure of a lower type of mind
+to understand a higher type of mind is set forth in the following
+letter which was written at my request by a missionary whom I met in San
+Francisco just as the final chapters of this book were being written.
+
+The first time I met this missionary was in Seoul, Korea.
+
+I have been told so many times that the cruelties in Korea have been
+stopped. Certain men said that they had been stopped immediately after
+the Independence Movement, but they were not stopped. At frequent
+intervals the American press is flooded with statements which come from
+Japanese press sources that the outrages in Korea have ceased.
+
+I said to this missionary, who had just arrived from Korea, "Is it true
+that the cruelties have stopped in Korea?"
+
+"No! They have not stopped! They have not even diminished! They are
+getting worse, rather than better!"
+
+"Would you be willing to write out, in your own handwriting, a few
+things that you know yourself which have occurred since I was in Korea
+so that the book which I am writing may be accurate and up to date in
+its facts?"
+
+"I will be glad to do that for you! We who are missionaries dare not
+speak the truth!"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"If we did the Japanese Government would never let us get back to our
+people!"
+
+"Then you may talk through me, if you are willing to do it. I want the
+truth to get to the American people!"
+
+"I am not only willing but I am eager to talk!" said this missionary and
+wrote out the following story of cruelty against an educated and
+cultured Korean, who was the Religious and Educational Director in the
+Seoul Y.M.C.A. This story of the latest Japanese barbarisms I pass on to
+the reader in this chapter to illustrate another ignominious Hun failure
+to understand that the practices of the Dark Ages will not work in this
+century:
+
+    "On May 26th, 1920, just as Mr. Choi was coming out of his
+    class room he was met by two detectives, one Korean and one
+    Japanese, who informed him that he was wanted at the Central
+    Police Station. Here he was turned over to the Chief of Police
+    and thrown into a room and kept all day. Mr. Brockman and Cynn
+    both made several attempts to find out why he was arrested.
+    Each time they were given an evasive answer. Finally Mr. Cynn
+    insisted that they tell him the cause of the arrest. It was
+    finally discovered that he was wanted in Pyengyang on certain
+    charges. He was to leave Seoul that evening on the 11 p.m.
+    train. Anxious to see how Mr. Choi was being treated, Mr. Cynn
+    and several of the Y.M.C.A. men went down to the station. Mr.
+    Choi with the other six students were standing on the platform.
+    Apparently Mr. Choi was not bound as is the usual custom.
+    Closer observation, however, revealed the fact that his hands
+    were bound with cords, but in his case the ropes were placed on
+    the inside instead of the outside, of the clothes. He arrived
+    in Pyengyang the next day, May 27, at 5 p.m. Instead of taking
+    Mr. Choi first they called in one of the students whose name is
+    Chai Pony Am. After the usual preliminary questions these
+    inquisitors of the Dark Ages said, 'We know all about you
+    everything you have done. There is no use for you to deny
+    anything. You make a clean confession of everything.' Mr. Choi
+    replied, 'I have done nothing. If I knew what you wanted, I
+    would tell you.' More pressure was urged in the way of
+    bombastic speech. Finally the police said, 'If you won't tell
+    of your own free will we will make you tell!' Then the
+    tortures, which the Government published broadcast had been
+    done away with, began. They brought out a round stool with four
+    legs and laid it down on its side with the sharp legs up and
+    made him strip naked. Then they took the silken bands (about 2
+    in. wide) and placing his hands behind his back until the
+    shoulder blades touched begun bending the arm from the wrist
+    very tight. This completed, they made him kneel upon the sharp
+    edge of the legs of the stool with his shins. Then they took
+    the bamboo paddle (this is made of two strips of bamboo about 2
+    in. wide and 2 ft. long wound with cord) and begun beating him
+    on the head, face, back, feet and thighs. Every time they
+    struck him his body would move and the movement cause the shins
+    to rub on the sharp edges of the stool. To further increase the
+    pain they took lighted cigarettes and burnt his flesh. This was
+    continued until the student fainted and fell off. They then
+    would restore the patient by artificial respiration and when he
+    refused to confess, continued the torture. This process was
+    continued for 45 minutes and then the student was put into a
+    dark cell and kept for three days. Upon the third day he was
+    again brought before these _just_ policemen and asked if he
+    were ready to confess. Said they, 'If you do not tell us this
+    time we will kill you. You see how the waters of the Tai Pong
+    (the river at Pyengyang) wear smooth these stones. That is what
+    we do with those who come in here. Many have been killed in
+    here. Your life is not worth as much as a fly.' He was
+    tortured in the same manner as before and then put back into
+    the cell for another three days. This process was continued
+    every three days for two weeks.
+
+    "When Mr. Choi, the educational director of the Y.M.C.A. was
+    called in the police said, 'You are an educated gentleman and
+    we propose to give you the gentleman's treatment. We do not
+    want to treat you like ordinary men. Now we want you to tell us
+    what your thoughts have been and are. Make a confession of
+    anything you have done since March 1st, 1919.' Mr. Choi said,
+    'What do you want me to confess? If you will give me a little
+    time I will write you out something.' This they refused to do
+    and said, 'Since you refuse to tell us we will make you tell.
+    We will treat you like all other dogs.' Then they forcibly took
+    off his clothes, and proceeded to bind him in the same manner
+    as the previous student. After being bound he was placed on the
+    stool and beaten. He did not lose his consciousness but fell
+    off the stool, and then was placed back and the same process
+    continued. When Mr. Choi fell off the stool the bands on his
+    arms were loosened and they proceeded to unloosen and rewind
+    his arms. This time they wound them tighter than before. At the
+    ends of these bands are brass rings which are placed next to
+    the flesh and made to press upon the nerves. This time Mr. Choi
+    said as they wound his right arm he felt a sharp pain and at
+    once noticed that he had lost the use of his arm. It was
+    paralyzed. Mr. Choi was tortured five times in all--one every
+    three days. The first torture lasted one hour and the
+    succeeding ones were less severe than the first. At the end of
+    two weeks, June 10th, Mr. Choi and the six students with him
+    were called before a police captain who said to the students,
+    'There is nothing against you. Some bad Korean has testified
+    falsely against you. We are sorry you have suffered but you can
+    now go free.' However to Mr. Choi he said, 'You must remain
+    here a week yet. You are still under police supervision. Go to
+    ---- hotel and stay.' On June 16th the police came to the hotel
+    where he was staying and said, 'You may go down to Seoul
+    tonight.' Mr. Choi arrived in Seoul on the 17th and gave this
+    testimony. His arm is still paralyzed."
+
+And so it is that these great failures stand out: the failure of a race
+of people to survive; the failure of the American people to estimate the
+loss of Shantung at its proper valuation spiritually, and the failure of
+Japan to understand that Korea is still and ever shall be _Korea the
+Unconquered_; this Korea which I call "The Wild Boar at Bay."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FRIENDSHIP
+
+
+We were running down the Samabs River in a small Dutch ship, the
+_Merkeus_. This river, running almost parallel to the Equator, and not
+more than fifty miles away from that well-known institution, cuts the
+western end of Borneo in two, and lends phenomenal fertility to its
+soil.
+
+Shooting around a bend in the river, suddenly there loomed on the
+western shores, so close that we could throw a stone and hit it, a tree
+that was leafless, dead as a volcanic dump; but its dead branches
+literally swarmed with monkeys. The light in the west had so far gone
+that they appeared as silent silhouettes against the sunset Their tails,
+which seemed to be about three feet long, and were curled at the ends,
+hung below the dead branches. One big fellow had perched himself on the
+tiptop of the tree, and in the dim light he looked like a human sentinel
+as his black outline appeared against the evening light.
+
+Then came Missionary Worthington's story about Kin Thung, the boy who,
+with characteristic Oriental spirit, had quick murder in his heart:
+
+"It was while I was the head of the Boys' School down in Batavia, Java,
+that it happened. One has experiences out here in dealing with youth
+that he does not get at home, for it is inflammable material, explosive
+to the highest degree."
+
+I waited for his story to continue as the Dutch ship glided swiftly down
+the river toward the South China Sea, and night settled over us as we
+sat there on the upper deck, watching the crimson glory change into
+sudden purple.
+
+"I heard a noise and I knew there was a fight on in the dormitory. I had
+seen the aftermath of such Malay and Chinese feuds in our schools
+before, and I knew that it was no trivial matter, as it often is with
+boy fights at home, so I hurried up.
+
+"When I got there I saw Kin Thung wiping his knife, and the boy he had
+been fighting lying on the floor, bleeding from a long wound."
+
+"What had happened?"
+
+"Kin Thung was a quick-tempered boy. In addition to that, he was of a
+sullen make-up, with, what I call, a criminal tendency in him. That,
+added to his already volatile spirit, made him a real problem in the
+school. For instance, he was the kind of a boy who, if a teacher called
+on him without warning to recite, he would get uncontrollably angry,
+turn sullen and refuse to answer."
+
+"Why didn't you fire him?" I said.
+
+"That would have been the easy thing to do. I preferred to win him
+rather than to fire him!"
+
+I felt ashamed of myself for my suggestion, and looked out into the
+night skies where the beautiful form of the southern cross loomed in the
+zenith.
+
+"No, I didn't fire him."
+
+"What did you do?"
+
+"As I was dressing the boy's wound Kin Thung stood looking on, utterly
+expressionless and unrepentant, even sullen.
+
+"I didn't say anything to Kin that night, save to ask him to come to the
+office the next day.
+
+"The other boys were calling out to him as he entered, and I could hear
+them through the window, 'I wonder how many strokes of the rattan he
+will get?' for that is one of our forms of punishment.
+
+"He was no doubt wondering himself when he entered, still sullen.
+
+"I said to him, 'Kin, I could give you as punishment a hundred strokes
+of the rattan. I could put you on rice and water for a month, or I could
+put you to a room for a week in solitary confinement. But I am not
+going to do either or any of them. I am going to pray for you!"
+
+"'I don't want you to, sir!' he cried in alarm.
+
+"'Kneel down!' I said to him.
+
+"'I don't want to.'
+
+"'Kneel down, I say!'
+
+"'I won't!'
+
+"'But this is your punishment. You would submit to the rattan if I
+imposed that. You must submit to this!' I said.
+
+"'I hate prayer!'
+
+"'Kneel down, boy!'
+
+"He knelt. I prayed. He wept."
+
+This was the cryptic way the missionary came to the climax of his story.
+Again the Southern Cross shot into view as we turned a curve in the
+river.
+
+"The fountain broke. A boy's heart was won! I didn't have to fire him. I
+won him!"
+
+"That lad came to me two years later as he started out from our school
+in Batavia, and said, 'Mr. Worthington, that moment when you called me
+into your office was the crucial moment of my life. If you had been
+unkind to me then; if you had punished me, even as much as I deserved
+it; if you had not been Christ-like, I should have killed you. I had my
+knife ready. There was a demon in me! Your kindness, your praying for
+me, broke something inside of me. I guess it was my heart. I cried. I
+prayed. That morning saved my soul!'"
+
+"That was a marvelous experience, Mr. Missionary! It was a marvelous way
+to meet the situation," I said in a low tone, looking up at the white
+outline of the Southern Cross, and remembering two thieves.
+
+"It was Christ's way!" said the missionary.
+
+But perhaps the outstanding Flash-light of national Friendship is that
+of America for the Philippines. I shall never forget the day we started
+southward from winter-bound China for sun-warmed Manila.
+
+As the great ship swung about in the muddy waters of the Yangsti and
+turned southward, the bitter winds of winter were blowing across her
+deserted decks. But in two days one felt not only a breath of warm
+tropical winds on his face but he also felt a breath of warmer
+friendship blowing into his soul as he thought of the Philippines and
+America.
+
+The first breath of warm winds from southern tropical seas gently kissed
+one's cheeks that afternoon. It was a soothing breath of romance,
+freighted with the scent of tropical trees. It was much of a contrast
+with the bitter winter winds that had blown the day before at Shanghai.
+There the snow was flying, and woolen suits were greatly needed.
+
+But to-night men and women alike walk the decks of this Manila-bound
+ship. They are all in white. One stands at the bow of the ship, glad to
+catch the salt spray on tanned cheeks, glad to feel the sea-touched
+winds playing with his hair, glad to see fair women of the Orient tanned
+with summer suns; for it is summer in the Philippines, while winter
+reigns in China and the rest of the Oriental lands further north.
+
+Last night we passed the narrow straits leading out of Shanghai harbor
+directly south. Two lighthouses blinked through the dusk of evening, the
+one to the north in short sharp notes, like a musician of the sea
+singing coasts, rapidly beating time. The light to the south seemed to
+count four in blinks and then hold its last count like a note of music.
+In between the two lighthouses vague, dim, mist-belted mountains of the
+China coast loomed through the dusk.
+
+This morning and all day long we have been sailing past the huge
+outlines of mountainous Formosa, that rich island off the coast of
+China, between Shanghai and Manila. It looks like some fairly island
+with its coves and caves, into which pours the purple sea, visible
+through the faint mists of morning and noontime. Its precipitous sides
+shoot down to the sea in great bare cliffs, save where, here and there,
+a beautiful bay runs in from the southern sea to kiss the green lips of
+the land.
+
+But now the sun is setting. I am watching it from my stateroom window.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And now it is the rainy season in the Philippines.
+
+It doesn't rain in Luzon; it opens up clouds, and oceans suddenly drop
+to the land. Lakes and rivers form overnight. Bridges wash out, fields
+are inundated, houses by thousands are swept away, and railroad tracks
+twisted and played with, as if they were grappled by gigantic fists.
+
+Men will tell you of the great Typhoon that suddenly dropped out of the
+mountains at Baguio, sliced off a few sections of the mountains, rushed
+down through the great gorge, and left in its trail the iron ruins of
+eight or ten bridges, put in by American engineers, founded on solid
+granite; but swept away like playthings of wood, in an hour.
+
+One night we were driving from Baguio to Manila.
+
+A storm dropped suddenly out of the nowhere. We had no side curtains on,
+and in just three minutes we were soaked to the skin, and dripping
+streams of water. The artesian wells along the way were but dribbling
+springs compared with us.
+
+The storm came out of a clear, star-lit sky. Storms come that way in the
+Philippines. Only a few minutes before I had been looking up at the
+Southern Cross admiring its beauty. I looked again and there was no
+Southern Cross. A few great drops of rain fell and then came the deluge.
+
+Candle lights flickered in innumerable thatched houses where brown and
+naked women fluttered about dodging the rain, looking strangely like
+great paintings in the night. At the edge of each side porch a Bamboo
+ladder reached up from the ground. A fire burned against the rain. This
+fire leapt up for two feet.
+
+One could easily imagine on this stormy night, with every road a river,
+every field a flood, and every vacant space a sea, that the thatched
+houses raised on Bamboo poles were boats, afloat in a great ocean. The
+fires on the back porches looked for all the world like the fires that I
+have seen flaring against the night from Japanese fishing boats.
+
+We had been warm, personal friends since college days, this driver and
+I. He had chosen the harder way of the mission fields to spend his life.
+
+"After all," said he, "that was a dream worth dreaming!"
+
+"What do you mean?" I asked him, a bit startled.
+
+"Why the American occupation of these islands; the dream that McKinley
+had, of teaching them to govern themselves; and then giving them their
+independence; an Imperial Dream such as the world never heard of before;
+a dream that, if it has done nothing else, has won for America the
+undying friendship of the intelligent Filipino."
+
+"Right you are, man! But why such a thought at this ungodly hour? I
+should think rather that you would be sending out an S. O. S."
+
+"Dunno! Just flashed over me that that was a dream worth dreaming; and,
+by gad, boy, we're seeing it come to pass. Look at those contented
+people living in peace and security; their home fires lighted; their
+children in school; plenty to eat; not afraid that to-morrow morning
+some Friar will sell their home from under them. No wonder they have
+given their undying friendship to America!"
+
+He continued as we sped through the rain.
+
+"England and Germany sneered at America's dream. Such a dream of
+friendship through serving its colony had never been born in any other
+national soul from the Genesis of colonization up to this day, save in
+the soul of America in the Philippines. We have set the ideals of the
+world in many ways but never in a more marked way than this.
+
+"The Phoenicians were the first colonizers and they swept the
+Mediterranean with a policy of exploitation and slavery which was
+selfish and sordid. Then came Greece which had some such ideal of
+colonization as America. Her ideal was, that colonies, like fruit from a
+tree, when ripe, should fall off of the mother tree. Or the ideal of
+Greece was that colonizing should come about like the swarming of bees."
+
+I nodded my head. He went on as we slashed through the muddy ways, "Rome
+with her Imperial dream, her army to back it up, failed as have failed
+both Germany and Japan; three nations with kindred ideals as to
+colonization.
+
+"Venice was cruel, adventurous and rapacious in her colonizing policy on
+the Black Sea and she left a record of exploitations which makes a black
+blotch on the world's pages.
+
+"Modern colonization began with Spain in South America, Mexico and the
+Philippines. Spain has nothing over which to boast in that record. The
+Dutch in Java, the record of Belgium in the Congo; that of the
+Portuguese in the Far East; the French in Africa; the English in India;
+Germany in China and Africa, and Japan in Korea, have not been entirely
+for the service of the subjected people, for all of these Governments
+have gone on the fundamental theory that the colony exists for the
+Mother States."
+
+He paused a moment as we made a cautious way around a big caribou. "Then
+came the great dream of America that the Mother State exists for the
+benefit of the colony.
+
+"Elihu Root said, 'We have declared a trust for the benefit of the
+people of the Philippine Islands!'
+
+"President William McKinley said: The government is designed not for
+exploitation nor for our own satisfaction, or for the expression of our
+theoretical views, but for the happiness, peace and prosperity of the
+people of the Philippine Islands.'
+
+"Ex-President Taft said when he was Governor-General of the Islands: The
+chief difference between the English policy and treatment of tropical
+peoples and ours, arises from the fact that we are seeking to prepare
+them under our guidance for popular self-government. We are attempting
+to do this, first by primary and secondary education offered freely to
+the Filipino people.'
+
+"This spirit has won the undying friendship of the Filipino people. True
+enough, they will finally want their independence. That is natural, but
+there is a deep love for America buried in their hearts because America
+has been square with them; has fulfilled her promises; has not
+exploited them, but has served them. That is why I call the colonization
+policy of America here in the Philippines a dream worth dreaming." My
+friend was right.
+
+"We love America, because America is our friend!" said a humble
+fisherman to me one day on the banks of the Pasig.
+
+"Yes, the United States; it is our own! You are our brothers!" said a
+Filipino boy who had been educated in a Mission school.
+
+"We are no longer our own. We belong to America. You have bought us with
+a price! It cost the blood of American soldiers to buy us!" said an old
+Filipino, gray with years, but high in the councils of the Government.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One night on the Lunetta the Filipino Band was playing. It was a
+beautiful evening with a sunset that lifted one into the very skies with
+its bewildering glory and ecstasy. I had been sitting there, drinking in
+the beautiful music made by the world-famous Constabulary Band, and
+watching the quicksilver-like changing colors of the sunset. Then the
+band started to play "The Star Spangled Banner." I was so lost in the
+sunset and the music that I did not notice.
+
+I heard a sudden stirring. Brown bodies, half-naked Filipinos all about
+me, had leapt to their feet at the playing of our national hymn.
+Beautiful Filipino women in their dainty and delicately winged gowns,
+bare brown shoulders heaving with pride and friendship, stood
+reverently. Filipino soldiers all over the Lunetta stood at attention
+facing the flag, the Stars and Stripes waving in the winds from the old
+walled city. Side by side with American soldiers who had just returned
+from Siberia stood Filipino Constabulary soldiers. Side by side with
+well-dressed American children stood half-naked Filipino children at
+reverent attention, paying a wholesome respect to the Stars and Stripes
+as the old hymn swept across the Lunetta.
+
+"That is a thrilling thing to see!" I said to a friend.
+
+"It could not have happened ten years ago! M he replied.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"They did not trust us, and they did not love us. They had seen too much
+of the selfish colonization policies of Spain. They expected the same
+things from America. It did not come. They have been won to us!"
+
+This warm-hearted friendship is not true either of England's colonies
+anywhere in the Orient or of Japan's in Formosa or Korea. It is true
+alone in the Philippines.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+While I was in the Philippines, down in San Fernando, a statue was
+erected to a well-known rebel. He was a man who had refused to take the
+oath of allegiance to America when we captured the islands. He escaped
+and carried on a propaganda against us. But when he died and a request
+was made that a statue be erected to his memory, the United States
+granted this permission.
+
+At the dedication of this statue the Governor of this Province said that
+he doubted if any nation on the face of the earth, save the United
+States, would have permitted the erection of such a statue to a rebel
+against that government. "That act will bind our hearts closer to the
+heart of the United States!" he said in closing his address. The
+thrilling thing about it all was, that his address was met with
+prolonged cheering on the part of the thousands of Filipinos who had
+gathered for the dedication.
+
+Another evidence of this beautiful friendship for America is the
+painting which adorns the walls of one of the Government buildings in
+Manila. It is called "The Welcome to America." It was purchased, paid
+for and erected by Filipinos; erected in good will, with laughter in
+their souls, and joy in their hearts.
+
+It was painted by Hidalgo in Paris in 1904.
+
+High colors; reds, browns, yellows, golds, blues, purples; tell its
+story. It adorns the panel at the end of the Senate Chamber of the
+Filipino Government.
+
+It has spirit in it and a great, deep sincerity.
+
+The central figure is a beautiful woman, symbolic of America. She comes
+across the Pacific carrying the gifts of peace, prosperity, security and
+love to her colony, the Philippines.
+
+She carries in one hand the American flag. At her side is Youth bearing
+a Harp, symbol of the music that America brings into the souls of the
+people whom she comes to serve. Singing angels hover about the scene.
+
+Above the central figure of America, on angel wings, is a Youth carrying
+a lighted torch. To the left is a beautiful brown-skinned Filipino woman
+with eyes uplifted to this torch. She bears within her ample bosom the
+children of the islands. The torch is symbol of the fact that we are
+handing on the light of our Christian civilization to the children of
+our colonies.
+
+I visited this painting many times, but I never visited it that I did
+not see many Filipinos, both young and old, standing before it, with
+reverent eyes.
+
+I said to a high official of the Government, "Does that painting
+represent the way you Filipinos feel to-day?"
+
+"Hidalgo has spoken for us. He has voiced our feelings well!" was the
+reply.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+This friendship for the United States is a thrilling thing found all
+over the Far East. One finds it in Korea, as well as in the Philippines,
+like a burning light of glory. Korea says, "America is our only hope! We
+have always trusted and loved America!"
+
+One finds it like a silver stream running through the life of China. Dr.
+Sun Yat Sen said to me in Shanghai: "America has always been China's
+staunch friend! America we trust! America we love! America is our hope!
+America is our model!"
+
+Mr. Tang Shao-yi said, "America's hands and those of America alone are
+clean in her relations with China. This cannot be said of the other
+nations."
+
+Then he told me a thrilling story of the Boxer Rebellion. He, with two
+thousand Chinese, who were Government officials, were barricaded in a
+compound behind the usual Chinese walls. The Boxers were firing on them
+every day. They had run out of food. In fact, they were starving.
+
+But one morning a bright-faced American boy appeared at the gates of the
+wall. He was admitted because he was an American. He asked to be taken
+to Mr. Tang Shao-yi.
+
+"What do you most need?" this young American asked the rich Chinese
+merchant.
+
+"We most need food," was the reply.
+
+"All right, I'll get enough for you to-day!" said the young American.
+
+"That night," said Mr. Tang Shao-yi, "that American boy returned with
+five hundred hams which the Boxers had thrown away, in addition to a
+thousand sacks of flour which he had gotten from the English legation."
+
+"Wonderful!" I exclaimed.
+
+"And that boyish American was----"
+
+"Who?" I asked with tense interest, for the old man was smiling with a
+suggestive Oriental smile, as if he had a climax up his commodious
+sleeves.
+
+"That man was Herbert Hoover!"
+
+And from that interview henceforth and forever no human being need tell
+me that the Chinese have no sense of the dramatic.
+
+"That's why we love and trust America," said this great Chinese
+statesman. "It is because America has always been our friend in time of
+need!"
+
+I found this friendship for the United States true all over the Oriental
+world. It was to me a great miracle of national friendship. The peoples
+of the Orient trust us. They are not suspicious of our intentions in
+spite of what jingo papers say. We have won their hearts. We have
+claimed their friendship.
+
+The name "America," which stands in the Oriental mind for the United
+States, is a sacred passport and password. It is a magical word. It
+opens doors that are locked to all the rest of the world; it tears down
+barriers, century-old, that have been barricading certain places for
+ages past. That simple word opens hearts that would open with none
+other.
+
+The eyes of the brown men of the Far East open wide at that word, and a
+new light appears in them. This is particularly true in Korea, in China,
+in the Malacca Straits, and in the Philippines.
+
+It is enough to bring a flood of tears to the heart of an American,
+lonely for a sight of his own flag, homesick for his native shores, to
+see and feel and hear and know the pulse of this friendship for our
+country among millions of brown men.
+
+"It is because we are like you, we Chinese," said Tang Shao-yi. "It is
+because we are both Democrats at heart!"
+
+"It is because you have been our true friends!" said Dr. Sun Yat Sen.
+
+"It is because your ideals are our ideals; your dreams our dreams and
+your friends our friends," said Wu Ting-fang, one of China's greatest
+leaders, to me.
+
+"It is because so many of our young men have been trained in your
+American schools, and because so many of us feel that the United States
+is our second home. It is because you have sent so many good men and
+women to China to help us; to teach us; to live with us; to love us; to
+serve us! It is because your missionaries from America have shown the
+real heart of the United States to us!" said Mr. Walter Busch, a Chinese
+American student who is now editor of the Peking _Leader_.
+
+But whatever the cause, the glorious fact is enough to:
+
+    "Send a thrill of rapture through the framework of the heart
+    And warm the inner bein' till the tear drops want to start!"
+
+But perhaps the highest and holiest Flash-lights of Friendship that one
+finds in the Far East is that of the friendship formed by the American
+missionaries for the people among whom they are working, and the
+friendship that these people give in return. These are holy things.
+
+The average missionary comes home on his furlough, but before he is home
+three months he is homesick to go back to his people. So they come and
+go across the seas of the world through the years, weaving like a great
+Shuttle of Service the fabric of friendship for themselves and for the
+United States.
+
+This shuttle of service is being woven night and day across the Atlantic
+and across the Pacific by great ships bearing missionaries going and
+coming; furlough following furlough, after six years of service; term
+after term; leaving native land, children, memories; time after time
+until death ends that particular thread, crimson, gold, brown or white.
+The great Shuttle of Love weaves the fabric of friendship across the
+seas as the ships come and go, bearing outbound and homebound
+missionaries to foreign fields.
+
+I am thinking particularly of the Pacific as I write this sketch sitting
+in a room overlooking the great harbor of Yokohama where three Japanese
+warship lie anchored and two great Pacific liners, one on its way to San
+Francisco and another bound for Vancouver. They come and go, these great
+ships. A few days ago the _Empress of Asia_ made its twenty-eighth trip
+across and it soon will start on its twenty-eighth trip back to
+Vancouver again. Some of the ships out of San Francisco have made more
+than a hundred trips. So they weave the shuttle back and forward across
+this great sea. And never a ship sails this sea that it does not carry
+its passenger list of missionaries. Our list was more than half a
+hundred.
+
+As Mr. Forman, in a sympathetic and appreciative article that he has
+written for the _Ladies' Home Journal_, says, the common phrase on a
+Pacific liner is, "There are two hundred and fifty passengers and
+forty-five missionaries on board." Every Pacific passenger list
+immediately divides itself into two groups, the missionaries and the
+other passengers.
+
+Then Mr. Forman proceeds to slay those shallow, narrow-minded, often
+ignorant and uneducated tourists and business men who dare to speak of
+this traveling missionary with derision. Mr. Forman has no particular
+interest in missions and he has no particular interest in the Church,
+but he started out to investigate this derogatory phrase, "and
+forty-five missionaries."
+
+Mr. Forman starts his article with these striking paragraphs
+
+    "If ever you cross the Pacific you will find the passengers on
+    the steamer quietly and automatically dividing themselves into
+    two groups.
+
+    "'How many passengers have we on board?' you may lightly ask
+    your neighbor.
+
+    "And your neighbor, traveled man no doubt (his twelfth
+    crossing, he will mention), will smartly reply, with a suave,
+    man-of-the-world smile: 'A hundred and two passengers and
+    forty-five missionaries.'
+
+    "After that you will be initiated and you will be mentioning
+    with an easy grace to some one else that there are on board so
+    many passengers and so many missionaries. It becomes a part of
+    the jargon of Pacific crossing."
+
+But Mr. Forman sees working that Shuttle of Service of which I am
+speaking. He sees, as any thinking man sees, as Roosevelt saw, as
+Bryan saw, and as Taft saw, that the greatest single influence for
+good in the Orient is the missionary. Mr. Forman was incensed at
+this careless phrase on the Pacific liners, and he investigated the
+work of our missionaries when he was in the Orient, and he came to
+the decision that they are worth more to America, even from that
+selfish standpoint, than all the ambassadors that we have sent
+over, because they are, in their crossing and recrossing, weaving a
+Fabric of Friendship between the Orient and the Occident; between
+the nations of the East and those of the West; between the white
+peoples and the brown peoples; in spite of the diplomatic
+differences and yellow newspapers in the United States and Japan.
+
+Mr. Forman says about his conclusions:
+
+    "I concluded that any one of the large missions in those
+    Oriental countries accomplished, so far as concerns American
+    standing and prestige, more than all our diplomatic
+    representation there put together. I do not believe it to be an
+    exaggeration to say that for the Orient the missionaries are
+    perhaps the only useful form of what is called diplomatic
+    representation."
+
+And again in the same article he says:
+
+    "One good missionary in the right place, it seemed to me, can
+    accomplish more than quite a number of ambassadors."
+
+And again he wonderfully sums up that mission of love in a paragraph
+which I think ought to be passed on:
+
+    "But when a missionary establishes a clinic or a hospital,
+    healing sores and diseases that their own medicine men have
+    abandoned as hopeless; when he educates boys and girls that
+    otherwise would have remained in darkness; when, with a
+    whole-souled enthusiasm, he gives them counsel, aid and service
+    and he asks nothing in return then the stolid and passive
+    Chinese or Korean is genuinely impressed. Then America really
+    becomes in his mind the synonym for kindness and service, and
+    from mouth to mouth goes abroad the fame of the land that is
+    aiming to do him good, without any menacing background of
+    exploitation."
+
+I talked with one bright-faced, twinkling-eyed, red-blooded, big-framed
+missionary who was crossing with his family of a wife and four children.
+He had spent fifteen years in the Orient as a missionary, and then
+because of illness he had been compelled to go to America. There he had
+taken a church and had preached for five years. His health came back,
+and as he told me, "The lure of the East got me and I had to come back.
+I never was so happy in my life as I am on this trip and the whole
+family feels the same way. We are going back to _our people_!" And the
+way he pronounced those _italicised_ words made me know that he, too,
+was weaving a thread in the Fabric of Friendship.
+
+We met a woman who was traveling back to China with her three darling
+little tots. I made love to all three of them, and it wasn't long before
+I asked one where her Daddy was. I assumed, of course, that they had
+been home on a furlough and that Daddy was back there in China waiting
+anxiously for them to return to him. I pictured that meeting, for I have
+seen many such during war days, both on this side and in France.
+
+"My Daddy is dead," the child said simply with a quiver of her little
+lips.
+
+"All right, dear baby, we won't talk about it then," for I was afraid
+that those little trembling lips couldn't hold in much longer. But she
+wanted to tell me about it. I soon saw that. She liked to talk about her
+"dear dead Daddy."
+
+"He went to France," she said simply.
+
+"Ah, he was a soldier?" I questioned.
+
+"No, he was better than a soldier, my Mamma says. He did not go to kill;
+he went to help." And back of that sentiment and that statement I saw a
+world of struggle and ideals in a missionary home where the man felt
+called across the seas to be "in it" with his country and at last the
+refuge of the man who could go "not to kill but to help."
+
+"He went to work with the coolies and he got the influenza and died last
+winter. We won't have any Daddy any more," and her little blue eyes were
+misty with tears. And so were mine, more misty than I dared let her see.
+And they are misty now as I write about it. And yours will be misty if
+you read about it, as they should be. That is something fine in you
+being called out.
+
+Later I met the mother. She told me over again the story that little
+Doris had told me of the big Daddy who had felt the call to go to France
+in the Y.M.C.A. to help the poor "coolies," several hundred of whom
+were, by strange coincidence, going back to China on the same boat with
+us, and with that brave mother and those dear children. These "coolies"
+were going back alive, but he who went to serve them died. "Others he
+saved; Himself he could not save," echoed in my soul as that mother and
+I talked.
+
+"I am going back to the Chinese to spend the rest of my life finishing
+Will's work. It is better so. I shall be happier."
+
+"But the association there--everything--every turn you make--every place
+you go--will remind you of him," I protested.
+
+"It would be what Will would want most of all, that I go on with his
+work. I go gladly. It will be the best balm for my sorrow."
+
+And far above national friendships there loom these snow-white peaks of
+the sacrificial friendship the missionaries bear in their hearts for the
+people with whom they live, and serve, and die.
+
+
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:
+
+
+Inconsistencies in hyphenation of words preserved. (flash-lights,
+flashlights; foot-ball, football; star-lit, starlit; to-day, today;
+to-night, tonight)
+
+Inconsistencies in the spelling and transliteration of non-English words
+preserved. (Pyeng Yang, Pyengyang)
+
+Pg. 25, "bacon" changed to "beacon". (like beacon lights of hope)
+
+Pg. 26, inserted missing comma. (there to the north," I said)
+
+Pgs. 79, 101, 145, inserted opening double quote mark to start of direct
+speech at top of chapter.
+
+Pg. 153, "flashng" changed to "flashing" (like flashing piston rods of
+steel)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Flash-lights from the Seven Seas, by 
+William L. Stidger
+
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Flash-lights from the Seven Seas, by William L. Stidger
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Flash-lights from the Seven Seas
+
+Author: William L. Stidger
+
+Commentator: Bishop Francis J. McConnell
+
+Release Date: October 14, 2008 [EBook #26924]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLASH-LIGHTS FROM THE SEVEN SEAS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ronald Lee
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="cover" id="cover"></a>
+<img  src="images/cover.jpg" width="381" height="600" alt="Cover" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="center">FLASH-LIGHTS<br />
+FROM THE SEVEN SEAS</p>
+<hr class="hr1" />
+<p class="center">WILLIAM L. STIDGER</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a>
+<img  src="images/frontis.jpg" width="441" height="600" alt="Temple at Taishan" />
+<div class="cap-vert">
+<p class="caption">MT. TAISHAN, CHINA, SAID TO BE THE OLDEST WORSHIPPING PLACE ON EARTH.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h1>FLASH-LIGHTS<br />
+<small>FROM THE SEVEN SEAS</small></h1>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="title"><b>BY<br />
+<big>WILLIAM L. STIDGER</big><br />
+<small>AUTHOR OF "STANDING ROOM ONLY," "STAR<br />
+DUST FROM THE DUGOUTS," "OUTDOOR<br />
+MEN AND MINDS," ETC.</small></b></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="title"><b>WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY<br />
+<big><span class="smcap">BISHOP FRANCIS J. McCONNELL</span></big></b></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="title"><b>ILLUSTRATED<br />
+FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY<br />
+THE AUTHOR</b></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">NEW&nbsp;<img src="images/logo.jpg" width="75" height="75" alt="logo of publisher" />&nbsp;YORK<br />
+GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><small>COPYRIGHT, 1921,<br />
+BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</small></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><small>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</small></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="title">DEDICATED TO<br />
+<big>MARY I. SCOTT</big><br />
+A WOMAN FRIEND<br />
+<small>WHO PUSHED BACK THE HORIZONS OF<br />
+THE WORLD AND LED ME TO THE<br />
+BEGINNING OF THE TRAIL THAT<br />
+HAS NO END: THE TRAIL OF<br />
+DREAMS AND TRAVEL</small>
+</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>INTRODUCTION<br />
+<span class="smcap"><small>By BISHOP FRANCIS J. McCONNELL</small></span></h2>
+
+
+<p>The Rev. William L. Stidger is one of the most thoroughly alive men in
+the ministry today. He sees quickly, reacts instantaneously, and knows
+how to bring others to a like alertness of mental and spiritual seizure.
+If it be said of him that he is impressionistic it must be remembered
+that the impressions are made on a mind of sound purpose and
+communicated to others for the sake of the truth behind the impression.
+His narratives of travel do not belong in the guide-book category or in
+that of the scientific geography. But if you wish to know what it would
+be like to visit yourself the countries described, the reading of Mr.
+Stidger's sketches will help you. If it be said that what one after all
+is getting is the Stidger view, it must not be forgotten that the
+Stidger view is marvellously vital and enkindling. The Stidger vitality
+is bracing and health-giving. It is a tonic for all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span> of us who are
+getting a little old and sluggish. The contagion of youth and energy are
+in this book: it will reach and stir all who read.</p>
+
+<p class="sigblock"><span class="smcap">Francis J. McConnell</span></p>
+
+<p><i>Pittsburgh, Pa.</i></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p>
+<h2>FOREWORD</h2>
+
+
+<p>That vast stretch of opal islands; jade continents; sapphire seas of
+strange sunsets; mysterious masses of brown-skinned humanity;
+brown-eyed, full-breasted, full-lipped and full-hipped women; which we
+call the Orient, can only be caught by the photographer's art in
+flash-light pictures.</p>
+
+<p>It is like a photograph taken in the night. It cannot be clear cut. It
+cannot have clean outlines. It can only be a blurred mass of humanity
+with burdens on their shoulders; humanity bent to the ground; creaking
+carts; weary-eyed children and women; moving, moving, moving; like
+phantom shadow-shapes; in and out; one great maze through the majestic
+ages; one confused history of the ancient past; emerging; but not yet
+out into the sunlight!</p>
+
+<p>Such masses of humanity; such dim, uncertain origins of unfathered
+races; these can only be caught and seen as through a glass darkly.</p>
+
+<p>Paul Hutchinson, my friend, in "The Atlantic Monthly" says of China what
+is true of the whole Orient:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"In this vast stretch of country, with its poor communications, we
+can only know in part. When one sets out to generalize he does so
+at his own peril. The only consolation is that it is almost
+impossible to disprove any statement; for, however fantastical, it
+is probably in accord with the facts in some part of the land."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The facts, fancies, and fallacies of this book are gleaned from the
+rovings and ramblings of a solid year of over fifty-five thousand miles
+of travel; through ten separate countries: Japan, Korea, China, the
+Philippine Islands, French Indo-China, the Malay States, Borneo, Java,
+Sumatra and the Hawaiian Islands; across seven seas: the Pacific Ocean,
+the Sea of Japan, the North China Sea, the Yellow Sea, the South China
+Sea, the Malacca Straits, and the Sea of Java; after visiting five wild
+and primitive tribes: the Ainu Indians of Japan, the Igorrotes of the
+Philippines, the Negritos of the same islands; the Dyaks of Borneo, and
+the Battaks of Sumatra; face to face by night and day with new races,
+new faces, new problems, new aspirations, new ways of doing things, new
+ways of living, new evils, new sins, new cruelties, new fears, new
+degradations; new hopes, new days, new ways, new nations arising; new
+gods, and a new God!</p>
+
+<p>When one comes back from such a trip, having fortified himself with the
+reading of many books written about these far lands, in addition to his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span>
+travel, one still has the profound conviction that, after all is said,
+done, and thought out, the only honest way to picture these vast
+stretches of land and humanity is to confess that all is in motion; like
+a great mass of bees in a hive, one on top of the other, busy at
+buzzing, buying, selling, living, dying, climbing, achieving; groping in
+the dark; moving upward by an unerring instinct toward the light.</p>
+
+<p>At nights I cannot sleep for thinking about that weird, dim, misty
+panorama of fleeting, flashing pictures; those thousands of Javanese
+that I saw down in Sourabaya, who have never known what it means to have
+a home; who sleep in doorways by night, and along the river banks; where
+mothers give birth to children, who in turn live and die out under the
+open sky. Nor can I forget that animal-like beggar in Canton who dug
+into a gutter for his food; or those hideous beggars, by winter along
+the railway in Shantung; or the naked one-year-old child covered with
+sores which a beggar woman in the Chinese section of Shanghai held to
+her own naked breast. Those pictures and a thousand others abide.</p>
+
+<p>One has the feeling that if he could go back, again, and again, and
+again to these far shores, and live with these peoples and die with
+them, then he would begin faintly to understand what it all means and
+where it is all headed.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span>And this author, for one, is honest in saying that, in spite of careful
+investigation, in spite of extensive travel and a sympathetic heart, he
+sees but dimly. The very glory of it all, the age of it all, the wonder
+of it all, the mysterious beauty and thrill of it all; the thrill of
+these masses of humanity, their infinite possibilities for future
+greatness; like a great blinding flash of glory, dims one's eyes for a
+time.</p>
+
+<p>But, now, that he has, through quiet meditation and perspective, had a
+chance to develop the films of thought, he finds that he has brought
+back home pictures that one ought not to keep to one's self; especially
+in this day, when, what happens to Asia is so largely to determine what
+happens to America.</p>
+
+<p>So, out of the dark room, where they have been developing for a year,
+and out of the dim shadows of that mysterious land whence they came,
+they are printed and at the bottom of each picture shall be written the
+humble words:</p>
+
+<p class="center">"Flash-Lights from the Seven Seas"</p>
+
+<p class="sigblock"><span class="smcap">William L. Stidger.</span></p>
+
+<p><i>Detroit, Michigan.</i></p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="65%" summary="Table of contents">
+
+<tr><td></td><td></td><td class="tocpg"><span class="tiny">PAGE</span></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td></td><td class="toc">Introduction by Bishop Francis J. McConnell</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_vii">vii</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td></td><td class="toc">Foreword</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_ix">ix</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdrt" style="padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 0em;"><span class="tiny">CHAPTER</span></td><td></td><td></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdrt padr" style="padding-top: 0em;">I</td><td class="toc" style="padding-top: 0em;">Flash-Lights of Flame</td><td class="tocpg" style="padding-top: 0em;"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdrt padr">II</td><td class="toc">Flash-Lights Physical</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdrt padr">III</td><td class="toc">Flash-Lights of Faith</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdrt padr">IV</td><td class="toc">Flash-Lights of Fear</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdrt padr">V</td><td class="toc">Flash-Lights of Frightfulness</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdrt padr">VI</td><td class="toc">Feminine Flash-lights</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdrt padr">VII</td><td class="toc">Flash-Lights of Fun</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdrt padr">VIII</td><td class="toc">Flash-Lights of Freedom</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdrt padr">IX</td><td class="toc">Flash-Lights of Failure</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdrt padr">X</td><td class="toc">Flash-Lights of Friendship</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td></tr>
+
+</table>
+
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page_xv" id="page_xv">[xv]</a></span></p>
+<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="65%" summary="List of Illustrations">
+
+<tr><td class="toc">Mt. Taishan, the Oldest Worshipping Place on Earth</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#frontis"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td></td><td class="tocpg" style="padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 0em;"><span class="tiny">PAGE</span></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc" style="padding-top: 0em;">The Walled City of Manila</td><td class="tocpg" style="padding-top: 0em;"><a href="#walledcity">48</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">Beautiful Filipino Girls</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#filipina">48</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">Korean Girls with American Ideals and Training</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#koreangirls">49</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">Stepping Aside in Korea</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#stepping">49</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">Confucius Tomb at Chufu, China</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#confucius">64</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">Ruin of the Ming Tombs</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#ming">64</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">Grinding Rice in China</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#rice">65</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">A Camel Train Entering Peking</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#camel">65</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">The Temple of Heaven, Peking</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#heaven">112</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">A Beautiful Thirteen-Story Pagoda Near Peking</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#pagoda">112</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">A Wayside Temple and Shrine</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#shrine">113</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">A Sunrise Silhouette, Java</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#silhouette">113</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">Old Bromo Volcano, Java</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#bromo">128</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">A Side View of Beautiful Boroboedoer, Java </td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#sideview">128</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">Naked and Otherwise</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#children">129</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="toc">A Dog Market</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#dog">129</a></td></tr>
+
+</table>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p>
+<h1 style="line-height: 1.2; font-size: 140%;">FLASH-LIGHTS<br />
+FROM THE SEVEN SEAS</h1>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER I<br />
+<small>FLASH-LIGHTS OF FLAME</small></h2>
+
+<p>Fire! Fire! Fire everywhere!</p>
+
+<p>Fire in the sky, fire on the sea, fire on the ships, fire in the
+flowers, fire in the trees of the forest; fire in the Poinsetta bushes
+which flash their red flames from every yard and jungle.</p>
+
+<p>In the tropical lands flowers do not burst into blossom; they burst into
+flame. Great bushes of flaming Poinsetta, as large as American lilac
+bushes, burst into flame over night in Manila.</p>
+
+<p>That great tree, as large as an Oak, which they call "The Flame of the
+Forest," looks like a tree on fire with flowers. One will roam the world
+over and see nothing more beautiful than this great tree which looks
+like a massive umbrella of solid flame.</p>
+
+<p>Every flower in the Orient seems to be a crimson flower. The tropical
+heat of the Philippines, Java, Borneo, Sumatra, the Malay States and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
+India's far reaches; with beautiful Ceylon, and Burma; seems to give
+birth to crimson child-flowers.</p>
+
+<p>The sunsets burst into bloom, as well as the flowers. There is no region
+on earth where sunsets flare into birth and die in a flash-light of
+glory and beauty like they do in the regions of the South China Sea. For
+months at a stretch, every night, without a break, the most wildly
+gorgeous, flaming, flaring, flashing crimson sunsets crown the glory of
+the days.</p>
+
+<p>I have been interested in catching pictures of sunsets all over the
+world. I have caught hundreds of sunsets with the Graflex; and other
+hundreds have I captured with a Corona, just as they occurred; and I
+have never seen a spot on earth where the sunsets were such glorious
+outbursts of crimson and golden beauty as across the circling shores of
+Manila Bay.</p>
+
+<p>Night after night I have sat in that ancient city and watched these
+tumultuous, tumbling, Turner-like flashes of color.</p>
+
+<p>One night the sky was flame from sea to zenith across Manila Bay. It was
+like a great Flame of the Forest tree in full bloom. Against this sky of
+flaming sunset-clouds, hundreds of ships, anchored in the bay, lit their
+lesser crimson lights; while, now and then, a battleship which was
+signaling to another ship, flashed its message<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> of light against the
+fading glow of glory in the crimson sunset.</p>
+
+<p>"It is light talking unto light; flash unto flash; crimson unto
+crimson!" said a friend who sat with me looking out across that
+beautiful bay.</p>
+
+<p>The picture of that flaming sunset, with the great vessels silhouetted
+against it; with the little lights on the ships, running in parallel
+rows; and the flashing lights of signals from the masts of the
+battleship will never die in one's memory.</p>
+
+<p>It was a quiet, peaceful scene.</p>
+
+<p>But suddenly, like a mighty volcano a burst of flame swept into the air
+at the mouth of the Pasig River. It leapt into the sky and lighted up
+the entire harbor in a great conflagration. The little ships stood out,
+silhouetted against that great flaming oil tanker.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a ship on fire!" Otto exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's go and see it!" I added.</p>
+
+<p>Then we were off for the mouth of the Pasig which was not far away.</p>
+
+<p>There we saw the most spectacular fire I have ever seen. A great oil
+tanker full of Cocoanut-oil had burst into flame, trapping thirty men in
+its awful furnace. Its gaunt masts stood out like toppling tree
+skeletons from a forest fire against the now deepening might; made vivid
+and livid by the bursting flames that leapt higher and higher<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> with each
+successive explosion from a tank of gasoline or oil.</p>
+
+<p>I got out my Graflex and caught several pictures of this flash-light of
+flame, but none that will be as vivid, as lurid, or as lasting as the
+flash-light that was etched into the film of my memory.</p>
+
+<p>The next flash-light of flame came bursting out of midnight darkness on
+the island of Java.</p>
+
+<p>We were bound for old Bromo, that giant volcano of Java. We had started
+at midnight and it would take us until daylight to reach the
+crater-brink of this majestic mountain of fire.</p>
+
+<p>White flashes of light, leapt from Bromo at frequent intervals all night
+long as we traveled on ponies through the tropical jungle trail, upward,
+and onward to the brink of that pit of hell.</p>
+
+<p>White flashes of light leapt from Bromo at the narrow rail. They called
+them "Night-Blooming Lilies," and sure enough they blanketed the rugged
+pathway that night like so many tiny white Fairies. Indeed there was
+something beautifully weird in their white wonder against the night.
+They looked like frail, earth-angels playing in the star-light, sending
+out a sweet odor which mingled strangely with the odor of sulphur from
+the volcano.</p>
+
+<p>And back of all this was the background of that awful, thundering,
+rumbling and grumbling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> volcano as somber as suicide. Strangely weird
+flashes lighted the mountains for miles around.</p>
+
+<p>"It looks like heat lightning back at home," said an American.</p>
+
+<p>"Only the flashes are more vivid!" said another member of the party.</p>
+
+<p>Those flashes of light from the inner fires of the earth, bursting from
+the fissures of restless volcano Bromo shall ever remain, like some
+strange glimpse of a new Inferno.</p>
+
+<p>Volcanic Merapi, another belching furnace of Java, gave me a picture of
+a flash-light of flame.</p>
+
+<p>The night that we stayed up on the old temple of Boroboedoer, Merapi was
+unusually active; and now and then its flashes of flame lighted up the
+whole beautiful valley between the temple and the mountain.</p>
+
+<p>At each flash of fire, the tall Bamboo and Cocoanut trees loomed like
+graceful Javanese women in the midst of far-reaching, green, rice
+paddies; while two rivers that met below us, wound under that light like
+two silver threads in the night.</p>
+
+<p>Once, when an unusually heavy flash came from Merapi, we saw below us a
+beautiful Javanese girl clasped in the arms of her brown lover. Each
+seemed to be stark naked as they stood under a Cocoanut tree like Rodin
+bronzes.</p>
+
+<p>It was this beautiful girl's voice that we later<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> heard singing to her
+lover a Javanese love song in the tropical night.</p>
+
+<p>This, I take it, was the Flame of Love; a flame which lights up the
+world forever; everywhere her devotees, clothed or naked, are the same;
+forever and a day; be it on the streets of Broadway; along the lanes of
+the Berkshire Hills of New England; up the rugged trails of the Sierras;
+or along the quiet, tree-lined streets of an American village. It is a
+flame; this business of love; a flame which, flashing by day and night,
+lights the world to a new glory.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>One night the missionaries in Korea saw flames bursting out against the
+hills.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" they cried, filled with fear.</p>
+
+<p>"The Japanese are burning the Korean villages!" said one who knew.</p>
+
+<p>All night long the villages burned and all night long the people were
+murdered. Runners brought news to the hillsides of Seoul where anxious,
+broken-hearted American missionaries waited.</p>
+
+<p>"One, two, three, four, five; ten, fifteen, twenty; thirty, forty,
+fifty; a hundred, two hundred, three hundred; villages are burning," so
+came the messages.</p>
+
+<p>The entire peninsula was lighted as with a great holocaust.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>It is said that the light could be seen from Fusan itself, a hundred
+miles away.</p>
+
+<p>"From our village it looked like a light over a great American
+steel-mill city," said a missionary to me.</p>
+
+<p>And when the morning came, the flames were still leaping high against
+the crimson sky of dawn.</p>
+
+<p>For days this burning of villages continued. Belgium never saw more
+ruthless flame and fire; set by sterner souls; or harder hearts!</p>
+
+<p>That was two years ago.</p>
+
+<p>The villages are charred ruins now. Some of them have never been
+rebuilt. The murdered people of these villages have gone back to dust.</p>
+
+<p>The Japanese think that the fires are out. They thought, when the flames
+of those burning villages ceased leaping into the skies; and at last
+were but smouldering embers; that the flames had died. But the Japanese
+were wrong, for on that very day, the Flames of Freedom began to burn in
+Korean hearts and souls! And from that day to this; those flames have
+been rising higher and higher. These are Flash-Lights of Flame that, as
+the years go by; mount, like beacon lights of hope on Korean hills, to
+light the marching dawn of Korean Independence.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>A beautiful Korean custom that used to be; flashes a flame of fire
+across the screen of history.</p>
+
+<p>In the old days the Korean Emperor used to have signals of fire flashed
+from hill to hill running clear from the Chinese border to Seoul, the
+Korean capital. This signal indicated that all was well along the
+borders and that there was no danger of a Chinese invasion from the
+north.</p>
+
+<p>Korea has always been a bone of contention between China, Russia and
+Japan. Consequently this little peninsula has always walked on uneasy
+paths, which is ever the fate of a buffer state.</p>
+
+<p>Never did a Korean Emperor go to sleep in peace until he looked out and
+saw that the signal fires burned on the beautiful mountain peaks
+surrounding the city of Seoul; fires indicating that the borders were
+safe that night and that inmates of the palace might rest in peace and
+security.</p>
+
+<p>"It must have been a beautiful sight to have seen the light flashing on
+the mountain peak there to the north," I said to an eighty-year old
+Korean patriarch.</p>
+
+<p>"It meant peace for the night," he answered. "It was beautiful. I often
+long to see those fires of old burning again on yonder mountain."</p>
+
+<p>He said this with a dramatic wave of his stately white robed arm.</p>
+
+<p>"The sunsets still flame from that western<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> mountain peak, overlooking
+your city beautiful!" I said with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, the sunsets still flame behind that peak," he responded with a
+far-away look in his aged eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps the good Christian God is lighting the fires for you?" I
+suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, He, the good Christian God; is still lighting the fires for us;
+but they are fires of freedom, fires of hope, and fires of Democracy!"
+the old man said with a new light in his own flashing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"And fires of peace," I added.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, fires of Peace when freedom comes!" he responded.</p>
+
+<p>But whatever the political implications are; it is historically true
+that this old custom had existed for years until the Japanese took
+possession of Korea and stopped this beautiful tradition.</p>
+
+<p>But behind that same mountain from which the bonfires used to flash in
+the olden days; indicating that the frontiers were safe for the night;
+that no enemy hosts were invading the peninsula; behind that mountain
+the fires of sunset still flame, flash, flare, and die away in the
+somber purple shadows of night.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>Nor shall one forget an evening at Wanju; a hundred miles from Seoul;
+sitting in the Mission House looking down into that village of a hundred
+thousand souls; watching the fires of evening lighted; watching a
+blanket of gray-blue smoke slowly lift over that little village;
+watching the great round moon slowly rise above a jutting peak beyond
+the village to smile down on that quiet, peaceful scene in mid-December.</p>
+
+<p>Koreans never light their fires until evening comes and then they light
+a fire at one end of the house, under the floor and the smoke and heat
+travel the entire length of the house warming the rooms. It is a poor
+heat maker but it is a picturesque custom.</p>
+
+<p>Thousands of flames lighted up the sky that night. The little thatch
+houses, and the children in their quaint garbs moving against the flames
+composed a strange Oriental Rembrandt picture.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>Streets! Streets! Streets!</p>
+
+<p>Lights! Lights! Lights!</p>
+
+<p>Somehow streets and lights go together.</p>
+
+<p>We think of our great Broadway. We smile at our superior ingenuity when
+we think of the "Great White Way."</p>
+
+<p>But for sheer beauty; fascinating, captivating, alluring, beauty; give
+me the Ginza in Tokyo on a summer evening; with its millions of
+twinkling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> little lights above the thousands of Oriental shops; with the
+sound of bells, the whistle of salesmen, the laughter of beautiful
+Japanese girls; the clacking of dainty feet in wooden shoes; and the
+indefinable essence of romance that hovers over a street of this
+Oriental type at night. I'll stake the romance, and beauty of the Ginza
+in Tokyo, against any street in the world. He who has looked upon the
+Ginza by night, has a Flash-Light of Flame; of tiny, myriad little
+flaming lights; burned into his memory; to live until he sees at last
+the lighted streets of Paradise itself.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>Nor are the clothes of the Orient without their flaming colors.</p>
+
+<p>The beautiful kimonos of the Geisha girls of Japan; the crimson, gold,
+and rose glory of the Sing Song Girls of China; the flashing reds of the
+brown-skinned Spanish belles of the Philippines, as they glide, like
+wind-blown Bamboo trees through the streets; and the lurid, livid, robes
+which men and women alike wear in Borneo and Java. In fact all of the
+clothes of the Orient, are flame-clothes. There are no quiet colors
+woven into the gown of the Oriental. The Oriental does not know what
+soft browns are. Crimson is the favorite color for man or woman. They
+even make their sails red, blue, green and yellow. The beautiful colors
+of the sailboats in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> harbor of Yokohama is one of the first flashing
+touches of the Orient that a traveler gets. From Japanese Obies, which
+clasp the waists of Japanese girls, to Javanese Sarongs, the flame and
+flash of crimson predominates in the gowns of both men and women. Where
+an American man would blush to be caught in any sort of a gown with
+crimson predominating save a necktie, the Japanese gentlemen, the
+Filipino, the Malay, and the Javanese all wear high colors most of the
+time. And the women are like splendid flaming bushes of fire all the
+time.</p>
+
+<p>A Javanese bride is all flame as far as her dress is concerned. Her face
+is powdered; her eyebrows are pencilled a coal black; her arms and
+shoulders daubed with a yellow grease. As to her dress, the sarong is a
+flaming robe that covers her body to the breasts; red being the dominant
+color; with a crown of metal which looks like a beehive on her head.
+Brass bracelets and ornaments on her graceful arms complete her costume.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>Even the Pagodas and Temples of the Oriental lands are flame.</p>
+
+<p>The most beautiful Temples of Japan are the Nikko Temples.</p>
+
+<p>"See Nikko and you have seen Japan" is the saying that is well said.</p>
+
+<p>But when one has spent weeks or a week, days<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> or a day at Nikko; he
+comes away with an impression of beautiful, tall, terraced,
+red-lacquered Pagodas; beautiful, graceful red-gowned women; beautiful,
+architectural masterpieces of Oriental Temples; all finished in
+wonderful red lacquer; beautiful red-cheeked women in the village
+stores; beautiful red Kimonos for sale in the Curio shops; red berries
+burning against the wonderful green grass; and all set off, against and
+under, and crowned by wonderful green rows of great Cryptomaria trees.
+These red Temples and these Red Pagodas&mdash;red with a red that is flaming
+splendor of the last word in the lacquer artist's skill; are like
+beautiful crimson jewels set in a setting of emerald.</p>
+
+<p>And back of all these Flash-Lights of Flame one remembers the path of a
+single star on the smooth surface of Manila Bay at night; and the
+phosphorescent beauty of Manila Bay where great ships cleave this lake
+of fire when the phosphorus is heavy of a Summer night; and every ripple
+is a ripple of flame. One remembers the continuous flash of heat
+lightning down in Borneo and on Equatorial Seas; and one remembers the
+Southern Cross; and the flash-lights of fire in a half-breed woman's
+eyes.</p>
+
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER II<br />
+<small>FLASH-LIGHTS PHYSICAL</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>The red dawn of tropical Java was near. The shadows of night were still
+playing from millions of graceful Palm trees which swung gently in the
+winds before the dawn.</p>
+
+<p>Three ancient volcanos, still rumbling in blatant activity, loomed like
+gigantic monsters of the underworld, bulging their black shoulders above
+the earth. Before us lay a valley of green rice paddies.</p>
+
+<p>We had roved over ancient Boroboedoer all night, exploring its haunted
+crannies and corners, listening to its weird noises; dreaming through
+its centuries of age; climbing its seven terraces. But in the
+approaching dawn, the one outstanding thrill of the night was that of a
+half-naked Javanese girl, who stood for an hour, poised in her brown
+beauty on the top of one of the Bells of Buddha, with some weird
+Javanese musical instrument, singing to the dawn.</p>
+
+<p>Then it came.</p>
+
+<p>"What? Her lover?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>No! The dawn! The dawn was her lover! Or, perhaps her lover was old
+Merapi.</p>
+
+<p>For, there, as we too, climbed to her strategic pinnacle of glory on top
+of the Buddha Bell to watch the dawn that she had called up with her
+weird music and her subtle brown beauty; before us, stretched thousands
+of acres of green rice paddies, spread out like the Emerald lawn of an
+Emerald Springtime in Heaven. Below us two silver streams of water met
+and wedded, to go on as one.</p>
+
+<p>As we stood there that morning on the top of Boroboedoer's highest bell,
+lines of Edna St. Vincent Millay swung into my soul:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"All I could see from where I stood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was three tall mountains and a wood."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Only in this instance all I could see were three volcanos. And the one
+in the center, old Merapi was belching out a trail of black smoke. These
+three volcanos, take turns through the centuries. When one is working
+the other two rest. When one ceases its activity, one of the others
+takes up the thundering anthem and carries it on for a few years or
+centuries and then lapses into silence, having done its part. While we
+were there it was Merapi's turn to thunder and on this particular
+morning Merapi was busy before day-light.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>For fifty miles along the horizon, a trail of black smoke swept like the
+trail of black smoke which a train leaves in its wake on a still day.
+There was not another cloud in the eastern skies. Nothing but that trail
+of black smoke as we stood on the top of Boroboedoer at dawn and
+watched.</p>
+
+<p>Then something happened. It was, as if some magician had waved a magic
+wand back of the mountain. The rising sun was the magician. We saw its
+heralds spreading out, like great golden fan-ribs with the cone of the
+volcano, its direct center of convergence. Then before our astonished,
+our utterly bewildered, and our fascinated eyes, that old volcanic cone
+was changed to a cone of gold. Then the golden cone commenced to belch
+forth golden smoke. And finally the trail of smoke for fifty miles along
+the horizon became a trail of golden smoke.</p>
+
+<p>This was a Flash-Light that literally burned its way into our memories
+to remain forever.</p>
+
+<p>There is another Flash-Light Physical which has to do with another
+volcano which I mentioned in the preceding chapter. Bromo is its name.
+It is still there, down on the extreme eastern end of Java, unless in
+the meantime the old rascal has taken it into his demoniacal head to
+blow himself to pieces as he threatened to do the day we lay on our
+stomachs, holding on to the earth, with the sides trembling beneath us.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>Old Bromo was well named. It reminds one of Bromo-Seltzer. I had heard
+of him long before I reached Java. I had heard of the Sand Plains down
+into the midst of whose silver whiteness he was set, like a great
+conical gem of dark purple by day and fire by night.</p>
+
+<p>Travelers said "You must see Bromo! You must see Bromo! If you miss
+everything else see Bromo! It's the most completely satisfactory volcano
+in the world."</p>
+
+<p>It was two o'clock in the morning when we started on little rugged
+Javanese ponies up Bromo's steep slopes.</p>
+
+<p>At daybreak we reached the mile high cliff which looks down into the
+world-famous Sand Sea. It was a sea of white fog. I have seen the same
+thing at the Grand Canyon and in Yosemite looking down from the rims. I
+thought of these great American canyons as I looked down into the Bromo
+Sand Sea. By noon this was a great ten-mile long valley of silver sand
+which glittered in the sunlight like a great silver carpeted ballroom
+floor. Tourists from all over the world have thrilled to its strange
+beauty. Like the gown of some great and ancient queen this silver cloth
+lies there; or like some great silver rug of Oriental weaving it
+carpeted that valley floor at noon.</p>
+
+<p>But at daybreak it was a sea of mist into which it looked as if one
+might plunge, naked to the skin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> and wash his soul clean of its tropical
+sweat and dirt; a fit swimming pool for the gods of Java, of whom there
+are so many.</p>
+
+<p>Then something happened as we stood looking down into that smooth sea of
+white fog, rolling in great billows below us. There was a sudden roar as
+if an entire Hindenburg line had let loose with its "Heavies." There was
+a sudden and terrific trembling of the earth under our feet which made
+us jump back from that precipice in terror.</p>
+
+<p>Then slowly, as if it were on a great mechanical stage, the perfect cone
+of old rumbling Bromo, from which curled a thin wisp of black smoke,
+bulged its way out of the center of that sea of white fog, rising
+gradually higher and higher as though the stage of the morning had been
+set, the play had begun, and unseen stage hands behind the curtain of
+fog, with some mighty derrick and tremendous power were lifting a huge
+volcano as a stage piece.</p>
+
+<p>Then came the quick, burning tropical sun, shooting above the eastern
+horizon as suddenly as the volcanic cone had been lifted above the fog.
+This hot sun burned away the mists in a few minutes and there,
+stretching below us, in all its oriental beauty was the sinewy,
+voluptuous form of the silver sand sea&mdash;Bromo's subtle mistress.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>There is another Physical Flash-light that will never die.</p>
+
+<p>Coming out of the Singapore Straits one evening at sunset, bound for the
+island of Borneo across the South China Sea, I was sitting on the upper
+deck of a small Dutch ship. The canvas flapped in the winds. A cool,
+tropical breeze fanned our faces. Back of us in our direct wake a
+splashing, tumbling, tumultuous tropical sunset flared across the sky.
+It was crimson glory. In the direct path of the crimson sun a lighthouse
+flashed its blinking eyes like a musical director with his baton beating
+time.</p>
+
+<p>I watched this flashing, lesser, light against the crimson sunset and
+was becoming fascinated by it.</p>
+
+<p>Then great black clouds began to roll down over that crimson background
+as if they were huge curtains, rolled down from above, to change the
+setting of the western stage for another act.</p>
+
+<p>But as they rolled they formed strange and beautiful Doric columns
+against the crimson skies and before I knew it, I was looking at the
+ruins of an old Greek temple in the sky. Then the black clouds formed a
+perfect hour-glass reaching from the sea to the sky, with its background
+of crimson glory, and the little lighthouse seemed to be flashing off
+the minutes in the arteries of that hour<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>-glass.</p>
+
+<p>And then it was night a deep, dense, tropical night; heavy with
+darkness; rich with perfume; weird with mystery. But the sunset of
+crimson; the Doric temple in ruins; the hour-glass; and the flashing
+lighthouse still remained.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>And who shall ever forget the sunsets of gold across Manila Bay night
+after night; with great warships and majestic steamers, sleek and
+slender cutters, white sails, long reaching docks, and graceful Filipino
+women, silhouetted against the gold? And who shall forget the domes,
+towers, and pinnacles of the Cathedrals; and the old fort within the
+city walls as they too were silhouetted against the gold of the evening?</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>Mt. Taishan, the oldest worshiping place on earth, not far from the
+birthplace of Confucius; in Shantung; is one of the most sacred shrines
+of the Orient. There, countless millions, for hundreds of centuries,
+have climbed over six thousand granite steps, up its mile high slope to
+pay their vows; to catch a view of the blue sea from its imminence; to
+feel the sweep, wonder and glory of its sublime height, knowing that
+Confucius himself gloried in this climb. The exaltation of that glorious
+view; shall live, side by side, with the view from the top of the Black
+Diamond range in Korea one winter's night as we caught<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> the full sweep
+of the Japan Sea by sunset. In fact these all shall live as great
+mountain top Physical Flash-Lights etched with the acid of a burning
+wonder into one's soul!</p>
+
+<p>Nor shall one ever forget a month's communion with Fujiyama, that
+solitary, great and worshiped mountain of Japan; sacred as a shrine;
+beautiful with snow; graceful as a Japanese woman's curving cheek;
+bronzed by summer; belted with crimson clouds by sunset like a Japanese
+woman's Obie. It, too, presented its unforgettable Physical
+Flash-Lights.</p>
+
+<p>The first glimpse was one of untold spun-gold glory. There it stood.</p>
+
+<p>"There it is! There it is! Look!" a fellow traveler cried.</p>
+
+<p>"There is what?" I called. We were on top of a great American College
+building in Tokyo.</p>
+
+<p>"It's Fuji!"</p>
+
+<p>I had given up hope. We had been there two weeks and Fujiyama was not to
+be seen. The mists, fogs, and clouds of winter had kept it hidden from
+our wistful, wondering, waiting eyes.</p>
+
+<p>But there it stood, like a naked man, unashamed; proud of its white
+form; without a single cloud; burning in the white sunlight. Its huge
+shoulders were thrown back as with suppressed strength. Its white chest,
+a Walt Whitman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> hairy with age; gray-breasted with snow; bulged out like
+some mighty wrestler, challenging the world. No wonder they worship it!</p>
+
+<p>I had gloried in Fujiyama from many a varied viewpoint. I had caught
+this great shrine of Japanese devotion in many of its numberless moods.
+I had seen it outlined against a clear-cut morning sunlight, bathed in
+the glory of a broadside of light fired from the open muzzle of the sun.
+I had seen it shrouded in white clouds; and also with black clouds
+breeding a storm, at even-time. I had seen it with a crown of white upon
+its brow, and I had seen it with a necklace of white cloud pearls about
+its neck.</p>
+
+<p>Once I saw this great mountain looking like some ominous volcano through
+a misty gray winter evening. And one mid-afternoon I saw it almost
+circled by a misty rainbow, a sight never to be forgotten on earth or in
+heaven by one whose soul considers a banquet of beauty more worth
+shouting over than an invitation to feast with a King.</p>
+
+<p>But the last sight I caught of Fuji was the last night that I was in
+Tokyo, as I rode up from the Ginza on New Year's eve out toward Aoyama
+Gakuin, straight into a sunset, unsung, unseen by mortal eye.</p>
+
+<p>Before me loomed the great mountain like a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> monstrous mass of mighty
+ebony carved by some delicate and yet gigantic artist's hand.</p>
+
+<p>I soon discovered where the artist got the ebony from which to carve
+this pointed mountain of ebony with its flat top; for far above this
+black silhouetted mountain was a mass of ebony clouds that seemed to
+spread from the western horizon clear to the rim of the eastern horizon
+and beyond into the unseen Sea of Japan in the back yard of the island.
+It was from this mass of coal-black midnight-black clouds that the giant
+artist carved his ebony Fuji that night.</p>
+
+<p>But not all was black. Perhaps the giant forged that mountain rather
+than carved it, for there was a blazing furnace behind Fuji. And this
+furnace was belching fire. It was not crimson. It was not gold. It was
+not red. It was fire.</p>
+
+<p>It was furnace fire. It was a Pittsburgh blast-furnace ten thousand
+times as big as all of Pittsburgh itself, belching fire and flames of
+sparks. These sparks were flung against the evening skies. Some folks, I
+fancy, on that memorable night called them stars; but I know better.
+They were giant sparks flung from that blast-furnace which was booming
+and roaring behind Fuji. I could not hear it roar; that is true; but I
+could feel it roar. I could not hear it because even so great a sound as
+that furnace must have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> making will not travel sixty miles, even
+though it was as still up there in the old theological tower as a
+country cemetery by winter down in Rhode Island when the snow covers the
+graves.</p>
+
+<p>Then suddenly a flare of fire shot up directly behind the cone of Fuji,
+flaming into the coal-bank of clouds above the mountain, as if the old
+shaggy seer had forgotten his age and was dreaming of youth again when
+the earth was young and he was a volcano.</p>
+
+<p>Above that streak of fire and mingled with it, black smoke seemed to
+pour until it formed a flat cloud of black smoke directly above the
+cone, and spread out like a fan across the sky to give the giant artist
+further ebony to shape his mountain monument.</p>
+
+<p>Then Fuji suddenly belched its volcano of color and lava; of rose and
+gold, amber, salmon, primrose, sapphire, marigold; and in a stream these
+poured over Fuji's sides and down along the ridge-line of the lesser
+hills until they too were covered with a layer of molten glory a mile
+thick.</p>
+
+<p>The clouds above Fuji forgot to be black. In fact, their mood of
+sullenness departed as by magic, and a smile swept over their massive
+mood of moroseness, and glory swept the skies. It was as if that furnace
+behind Fuji had suddenly burst, throwing its molten fire over the hills,
+the mountains, the sky, the world.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>And "mine eyes" had "seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." And that
+was enough for any man for one lifetime.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>Then there is beautiful Boroboedoer down in Java. It is a Physical
+Flash-Light that looms with its huge and mysterious historical
+architectural beauty like some remnant of the age when the gods of
+Greece roamed the earth. A sunrise from its pinnacled height I have
+already described, but the temple itself is unforgettable. There is
+nothing like it on the earth.</p>
+
+<p>Boroboedoer is one of the wonders of the world, although little known.
+It is in the general shape of the pyramid of Egypt, but more beautiful.
+One writer says, "Boroboedoer represents more human labor and artistic
+skill than the great pyramids." Mr. Alfred Russel Wallace says: "The
+human labor and skill expended on Boroboedoer is so great that the labor
+expended on the great pyramid sinks into significance beside it."</p>
+
+<p>Boroboedoer was built in the seventh century A.D., by the Javanese under
+Hindu culture. Then came the Mohammedan invasion, destroying all such
+works of art in its pathway.</p>
+
+<p>It is said that the priests so loved this beautiful Buddha temple that
+they covered it over with earth and then planted trees and tropical
+vegetation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> on it. In six months it was so overgrown that it looked like
+a hill. This is one explanation of why it lay for a thousand years
+unknown.</p>
+
+<p>The volcanic ashes undoubtedly helped in this secretion, for old Merapi
+even now belches its ashes, rocks and dust out over the beautiful valley
+down upon which Merapi looks.</p>
+
+<p>From Djodjakarta you go to the temples.</p>
+
+<p>This great temple has, instead of the plain surfaces of the great
+pyramid, one mile of beautifully carved decorations, with 2141 separate
+panels depicting the life of Buddha from the time he descended from the
+skies until he arrived at Nirvana, or perfect isolation from the world.
+A history of more than a thousand years is told in its stone tablets by
+the sculptor's chisel, told beautifully, told enduringly, told
+magnificently.</p>
+
+<p>One writer says: "This temple is the work of a master-builder whose
+illuminated brain conceived the idea of this temple wherein he writes in
+sculpture the history of a religion."</p>
+
+<p>And again one says architecturally speaking of it:</p>
+
+<p>"It is a polygonous pyramid of dark trachyte, with gray cupulas on
+jutting walls and projecting cornices, a forest of pinnacles."</p>
+
+<p>There are four ledges to this hill temple and above each ledge or stone
+path are rows of Buddhas hidden in great 5-foot stone bells, and at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
+top crowning the temple a great 50-foot bell in which Buddha is
+completely hidden from the world, symbol of the desired Nirvana that all
+Buddhists seek.</p>
+
+<p>Mysterious with weird echoes of a past age it stands, silhouetted
+against a flaming sky to-night as I see it for the first time. It is
+late evening and all day long we have been climbing the ancient ruins of
+that magnificent age of Hindu culture on the island of Java. This temple
+of Boroboedoer was to be the climax of the day, and surely it is all of
+that.</p>
+
+<p>The fire dies out of the sky. The seven terraces of the stone temple
+begin to blur into one great and beautiful pyramid. Only the innumerable
+stone bells stand out against the starlit night; stone bells with the
+little peepholes in them, through which the stolid countenances and the
+stone eyes of many Buddhas, in calm repose, look out upon the four
+points of the compass.</p>
+
+<p>Night has fallen. We have seen the great Temple by crimson sunset and
+now we shall see it by night.</p>
+
+<p>The shadows seem to wrap its two thousand exquisite carvings, and its
+Bells of Buddha in loving and warm tropical embrace. But no warmer, is
+the embrace of the shadows about the Temple than the naked embrace of a
+score of Javanese boys who hold to their hearts naked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> Javanese beauties
+who sit along the terraces looking into the skies of night utterly
+oblivious to the passing of time or of the presence of curious American
+strangers.</p>
+
+<p>Love is such a natural thing to these Javanese equatorial brown brawn
+and beauties that unabashed they lie, on Buddha's silent bells, breast
+to breast, cheek to cheek, and limb to limb; as if they have swooned
+away in the warmth of the tropical night.</p>
+
+<p>The Southern Cross looks down upon lover and tourist as we all
+foregather on the topmost terrace of that gigantic shadow-pyramid of
+granite.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of the innumerable naked footsteps of all past ages seems to
+patter along the stone terraces. Now and then the twang of the Javanese
+angklong and the beautiful notes of a flute sweep sweetly into the
+shadowed air.</p>
+
+<p>Then comes the dancing of a half dozen Javanese dancing girls, naked to
+the waist, their crimson and yellow sarongs flying in the winds of
+night, as, in slow, graceful movements, facing one of the Bells of
+Buddha they pay their vows and offer their bodies and their souls to
+Buddha; and evidently, also to the Javanese youths who accompany them in
+their dances.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of the voices of these Javanese girls&mdash;who in the shadows look
+for all the world like figures that Rodin might have dreamed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>&mdash;mingling
+their laughter with the weird music; shall linger long in one's memory
+of beautiful things.</p>
+
+<p>Their very nakedness seemed to fit in with the spirit of the night; a
+spirit of complete abandonment to beauty and worship. In their attitudes
+there seemed to be a mingling of religion and earthly passion; but it
+was so touched with reverence that we felt no shock to our American
+sensibilities.</p>
+
+<p>All night long we wandered about the terraces of the old Temple.</p>
+
+<p>We wondered how long the Javanese girls would remain.</p>
+
+<p>At dawn when we arose to see Boroboedoer by daylight they were still
+there as fresh as the dawn itself in their brown beauty, the dew of
+night glistening in their black hair and wetting their full breasts.</p>
+
+<p>And across, from Boroboedoer the sun, in its dawning splendor, was
+transforming belching and rumbling old volcanic Merapi into a cone of
+gold.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="walledcity" id="walledcity"></a>
+<img  src="images/048a.jpg" width="600" height="413" alt="Manila city walls" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">LOOKING OVER THE WALLED CITY OF MANILA, AMERICAN SOLDIERS
+SCALED THIS WALL A FEW YEARS AGO TO STAY.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="filipina" id="filipina"></a>
+<img  src="images/048b.jpg" width="600" height="451" alt="Filipino Girls" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">BEAUTIFUL FILIPINO GIRLS ALL OF WHOM SPEAK ENGLISH.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="koreangirls" id="koreangirls"></a>
+<img  src="images/049a.jpg" width="600" height="407" alt="Korean Girls" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">KOREAN GIRLS WITH AMERICAN IDEALS AND TRAINING.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="stepping" id="stepping"></a>
+<img  src="images/049b.jpg" width="600" height="408" alt="Korean peasant and ox" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">STEPPING ASIDE IN KOREA TO LET THE AMERICAN DEVIL WAGON
+GO BY.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER III<br />
+<small>FLASH-LIGHTS OF FAITH</small></h2>
+
+<p>He was an old man; gray-haired, gray-bearded; gray-gowned; and he knew
+that the Japanese Gendarmes would just as soon take his life as light a
+cigarette. They do each with inhumane impunity. One means as much to
+them as the other.</p>
+
+<p>He was under arrest for conspiracy in the Independence Movement.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know about the Independence Movement?" he was asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know all about it," was his fearless reply; though he knew that
+that reply in itself might mean his death; even without trial or further
+evidence. Just the fact that he had admitted that he knew anything at
+all about the movement was enough to throw him into prison. He was like
+an old Prophet in his demeanor. Something about the very dignity and
+sublime Faith of the man awed the souls of these crude barbarians from
+the Island Empire.</p>
+
+<p>"Since when was it begun?" asked the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>Gendarmes.</p>
+
+<p>"Since ten years ago when you Japanese first came to Korea," was the
+dignified reply.</p>
+
+<p>"From whence did it spring?" he was asked next.</p>
+
+<p>"From the hearts of twenty million people!"</p>
+
+<p>"Did twenty millions of people all get together then, and plan?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not together in body but in spirit!"</p>
+
+<p>"But there must have been some men to start it?" the Japanese Gendarme
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"They all started it!" was the old man's reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Is there no one who had charge of this movement from the beginning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, there is one!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know him well!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is his name?"</p>
+
+<p>"His name is God!" said this seventy-year old, fearless Christian Korean
+Patriot.</p>
+
+<p>Such faith as I have indicated in the paragraphs above is a common thing
+in Korea. Never in the history of the world have Christian people been
+subjected to the same tortures, the same cruelties, the same terrors,
+for their Faith as the early Christian martyrs; save these; the Koreans.</p>
+
+<p>We had thought that the world had gotten past that day when men would be
+tortured, crushed, persecuted, and killed because they were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> Christians
+but that day is not yet past as almost any American Missionary in Korea
+will testify.</p>
+
+<p>The Japanese officials will say that there is no persecution because of
+Christianity; but missionaries in Korea know better. They will point to
+countless incidents when men, women and children have been hounded, and
+persecuted for no other reason than that they were Christians.</p>
+
+<p>"And when Jesus heard it, He marveled greatly and said to them that
+followed, Verily I say unto you I have not found so great faith, no, not
+in Israel!" might well be said of the Korean Christians every hour,
+every minute, every second. They know what it means to die for their
+Faith.</p>
+
+<p>The story of Pak Suk Han is one of the most thrilling illustrations of
+Faith that I have ever heard in Oriental lands. He had been a Christian
+since he was seven years of age. He was a brilliant speaker and the
+Assistant Pastor of the First Methodist Church at Pyeng Yang, where,
+even the non-Christians loved him. He was arrested on Independence Day
+and sent to prison where a barbarous Japanese officer, whom the natives
+called "The Brute" kicked him in the side because he would not give up
+his Christ. From that kick and further inhuman treatment running over a
+period of six months; a disease developed which a most reliable
+missionary doctor told me ended Pak Suk Han's life.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>When he knew that he was about to die he said, "I have been a Christian
+and have served the church since I was seven years old. I have given my
+life to Christ, all but the last six months in prison which I have given
+to my country. I have no regrets. I might have lived had I been willing
+to deny my nation's rights and give up my Christ. I am going home to my
+Father's house. Good-by!" No Christian martyrs in the early centuries of
+the persecutions by Rome ever died with greater glory in their souls; or
+with deeper Faith!</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>The temperature was zero.</p>
+
+<p>The cold had swept down over night from the Siberian and Manchurian
+plains across the city of Seoul. The capital city of Korea was shivering
+with cold. But it was vibrant with something else. It was vibrant with a
+great sense of something impending.</p>
+
+<p>There were those who said that the restlessness in the souls of the
+Koreans had died down with the terrible days of the March Independence
+Movement; but I knew that the faith of the people was deeper than that.
+I knew that the flame of faith was just smouldering.</p>
+
+<p>I sensed this from the conversation of old-time missionaries who had
+been in Korea from the very beginning. I sensed it in the conversation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
+of young Koreans who had graduated from American schools. It was there;
+a vibrant, living, pulsing, faith in God and in the justice of their
+hopes: the Independence of Korea.</p>
+
+<p>The whole thing was summed up for me in a flash. It was a flash of the
+light of a tremendous faith that blinded mine eyes for a day; but my
+soul it lighted as with a great eternal light.</p>
+
+<p>A Korean boy stepped into the home of a missionary friend of mine, whose
+name I dare not use. If I did he would likely be sent home by the
+Japanese. Men have been sent home for less.</p>
+
+<p>The snow crunched under his feet as he walked up across the yard and the
+porch. He knocked at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Come in," said the missionary, kindly.</p>
+
+<p>The boy stepped in. The missionary had never seen him before. The boy
+was moved deeply as with a great emotion. He seemed to have carried into
+that quiet missionary home with him some of the tenseness of the outside
+air and some of the tenseness of the political situation.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want?" asked the missionary.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to talk with you about something very important," he replied in
+Korean.</p>
+
+<p>"All right! Go ahead! Do not be afraid. I am your friend!"</p>
+
+<p>"So I know. All missionaries are our friends."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you need not be afraid to talk."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>"No!" said the boy. But he did not talk. His agitation was growing more
+marked.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on, my boy! Tell me what you came for."</p>
+
+<p>The Korean boy looked at the half open door which led into the kitchen.
+The missionary, without a word, stepped over and closed that door,
+because he understood.</p>
+
+<p>The boy himself closed a door which led into the missionary's study. For
+in Korea in these days no home; not even a missionary's home, is free
+from spies.</p>
+
+<p>The boy started to talk hurriedly. The missionary soon saw that he was
+not talking about the thing that he had come for.</p>
+
+<p>"Come to the point! Come to the point! You did not come to me, in such
+secrecy, to talk commonplace things like that!" said the missionary a
+bit sharply.</p>
+
+<p>Then the boy suddenly dropped to his knees behind the missionary's desk
+and whipped out a big knife. Then he took from his white gown a long
+piece of white cloth. This he laid out on the floor. Then he opened his
+sharp knife with a quick motion and before the missionary knew it, he
+had ripped the index finger of his right hand, from, the tip to the
+palm, clear to the bone, until the blood spurted all over the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing, my boy?" cried the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>missionary.</p>
+
+<p>The boy smiled a sublime smile and then knelt on his knees over the
+white cloth and before the missionary's tear-misty eyes wrote across the
+immaculate cloth in his own blood the words: "Mansei! Mansei! Mansei!
+Korean Independence Forever! Self-determination!"</p>
+
+<p>Then underneath these words in a few swift strokes in his own blood he
+drew a picture of the Korean flag. And as he drew, now and then the
+blood would not flow fast enough; and he took his knife, as one primes a
+fountain pen; and cut a bit deeper to open new veins in order that the
+flag of his country and the declaration of his faith might be written in
+the deepest colors that his own veins could furnish.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, after what seemed hours he jumped to his feet and handed the
+missionary that flag; crying as he did so: "That is our faith! That is
+the way we Koreans feel! You are going back to America! We want America
+to know that our faith in the Independence of Korea has not died! The
+fire burns higher to-day than ever. The Japanese cruelties are worse!
+The need is greater! The oppression is more terrible! Our determination
+is deeper than ever before! I have come here this day, knowing that you
+are going back to America; I came to write these words in my own blood
+that you may know; and that America may know; that our faith is a flame
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>which burns out like the beacon lights on the Korean hills, never to
+die!"</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>The most scintillating Flash-light of Faith that I saw in the Orient was
+in the Philippine Islands. We were traveling the jungle trail to visit a
+tribe of naked Negritos. These are diminutive people who look like
+American negroes only they are much smaller; much more underfed, and who
+live in trees very much like the Orangutans of Borneo. They eat roots
+and nuts. They hunt with bows and arrows.</p>
+
+<p>They are the lowest tribe in mentality on the Islands.</p>
+
+<p>It was a terribly hot, tropical day and I had a sunstroke on the way up
+the mountainside to this Negrito village.</p>
+
+<p>I did not expect to get back alive.</p>
+
+<p>For three solid hours under a killing tropical sun, without the proper
+cork helmet and protection, a pile driver kept hammering down on my
+head. I felt it at every step I took. Finally I dropped unconscious on
+the trail. After several hours I was able to proceed to the top of the
+mountain, where the Negritos were camped.</p>
+
+<p>We got there about two o'clock and had lunch. As we ate about fifty
+Negritos swarmed about us.</p>
+
+<p>They were a horrible looking crowd; stark<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> naked, filthy with dirt;
+starved to skin and bones; and animal-like in every look and move.</p>
+
+<p>I was so sick that I was not able to eat the lunch which had been
+provided in baskets. I lay on my back trying to get back my strength.</p>
+
+<p>As the rest of the expedition ate, the Negritos with hungry eyes,
+crowded closer.</p>
+
+<p>One hideous old man was in the forefront of the natives. He was so
+hideous looking that he was sickeningly repulsive to me as I looked at
+him crouched as he was like an animal with a streak of sunlight playing
+on his face.</p>
+
+<p>This streak of sunlight, with ruthless severity, made the ugly scabs of
+dirt stand out on his old wrinkled face. That face had not felt the
+touch of water in years. His whole body was covered with dirt and sores.
+Wherever the sunlight struck on that black body it revealed scales like
+those on a mangy dog. His body was also covered with gray hairs matted
+into the dirt.</p>
+
+<p>"That old codger represents the nearest thing to an animal that the
+human being can reach," said McLaughlin, one of the oldest missionaries
+on the island.</p>
+
+<p>"You're right!" I said. "He looks as much like a Borneo Orangutan as any
+human being I ever saw."</p>
+
+<p>"And he lives like one, too; up in a tree in a nest of matted limbs and
+grass," said another.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>"I've traveled among the wild tribes of the world all my life and I have
+seen the lowest human beings on earth; in Africa, South America,
+Malaysia, Borneo, Java&mdash;Australia&mdash;everywhere," said a widely traveled
+man in the crowd, "and I never saw a type as low in the scale as that
+old fellow!"</p>
+
+<p>So we discussed him as the lunch proceeded. He did not know, of course,
+that we had consigned him to the lowest rung on the ladder of humanity,
+so he just sat looking at us with his animal-like eyes as we ate; and at
+me as I lay under a tree trying to recover my strength for the trip
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"He is not a human being!" added a philosopher in the crowd. "He is
+lower than that stage. He doesn't seem to have a single spark of
+humanity left in him!"</p>
+
+<p>Then the meal over; the missionaries started to hand out what was left
+of the food to these starving Negritos. The old man whom we had decided
+was the lowest type of a human being on earth seemed, after all, to be
+the leader of the tribe; no doubt because of his age; perhaps because of
+something else which we were later to discover.</p>
+
+<p>McLaughlin handed out a sandwich to the old man.</p>
+
+<p>"Did he eat it himself?"</p>
+
+<p>"He did not! He handed it to a child near by."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>McLaughlin handed out another sandwich which was left.</p>
+
+<p>"Did the old man, whom we had decided was more of an animal than a human
+being, eat that one?"</p>
+
+<p>"He did not. He took it over behind a tree where another old man was
+timidly hiding and gave it to him."</p>
+
+<p>McLaughlin handed out another sandwich.</p>
+
+<p>"Did the old man eat that one?"</p>
+
+<p>"He did not. He took it over and gave it to an old woman near by."</p>
+
+<p>And so it continued, until every last piece of food was disposed of.
+That old man; whom we had decided was an animal; saw to it, that every
+man, woman, and child in that crowd was fed before he took a single bite
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>Then he suddenly disappeared. In half an hour he came back with an
+armful of great, broad, palm leaves. He spread these out on the ground
+in the shade of a tree; did this old man; this hideous looking monster;
+and then motioned for me to lie down on the bed he had made for me. He
+saw that I was sick.</p>
+
+<p>Then he disappeared once again, and when he returned he was carrying a
+long Bamboo-tube full of clear, cool water which he had gotten from a
+mountain spring. He brought it to where I was lying on the bed he had
+made for me and with this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> water he cooled my fevered, burning head; and
+from this water he gave me to drink; he whom we had decided was the
+lowest type of a human being on earth.</p>
+
+<p>And I am writing here to say; that I have never seen a "cup of cold
+water given in His name" that was given with a higher, or a deeper sense
+of the Divine spark of God in humanity than I saw that tropical summer
+afternoon, and this water was given by the naked Negrito whom we had
+decided was the lowest human being on the earth. Yet even in this
+animal-man; even in this naked savage; there was a spark of the Divine
+that made us forever have a deeper and a more abiding faith that God
+never did and never shall make a man to live on this old earth that He
+did not have some purpose in making him.</p>
+
+<p>A few days before I took this trip up into the jungles of Luzon to visit
+this Negrito tribe I had received a copy of a slender volume of poems by
+Edna St. Vincent Millay. In the cool beauty of the tropical evening
+preceding this trip I had read the last lines of its introductory poem
+called "Interim"; and these lines came flashing into my mind, even as I
+lay on the hot earth on that Luzon hillside. I can still remember the
+honey dripping like rain from the Cocoanut trees, and I can still hear
+the ceaseless and maddening cry of millions of Locusts that hot day; but
+suddenly came this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> beautiful outpouring of faith from, the cool depths
+of a woman's woodland soul:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Not Truth but Faith, it is<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That keeps the world alive! If, all at once<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faith were to slacken,&mdash;that unconscious faith<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which must, I know, yet be the corner-stone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all believing&mdash;birds now flying fearless<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across would drop in terror to the earth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fishes would drown; and the all-governing reins<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would tangle in the frantic hands of God<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the worlds gallop headlong to destruction!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>That day bred new faith into my soul!</p>
+
+<p>I have told this story of the naked Negrito a hundred times since that
+eventful day and it kindles new flames of faith in human hearts every
+time it is repeated! Mr. Edmund Vance Cooke, the poet, heard it in
+Cleveland where I spoke in a Chautauqua programme and he said to me
+several months later in my home at Detroit, Michigan, "That was the most
+thrilling story of the Divine spark in a savage soul that I have ever
+heard! It gave me new faith in God and in humanity!"</p>
+
+<p>These, and a thousand other Flashlights of Faith come flashing out of
+that Far Eastern background; the sublime faith of thousands of college
+men and women who are giving their lives because they believe that
+savages and barbarians, such as I have described in this Negrito; Do
+have that spark of the Divine in their souls; faith that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> Christian
+civilization, and Christian education; and a Christian God, may awaken
+that spark.</p>
+
+<p>And, indeed many a proof do they have of this miracle! Only the other
+day from an American School, a girl from darkest Africa graduated as a
+Phi Beta Kappa honor scholar. Bishop William A. Taylor picked up this
+girl as a naked child in the jungles of Africa less than a quarter of a
+century ago!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV<br />
+<small>FLASH-LIGHTS OF FEAR</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Quick, short, sharp signals shot down the speaking tube from the bridge.</p>
+
+<p>The Chief Engineer of the <i>Santa Cruz</i> yelled across the boiler room.</p>
+
+<p>The bell rang for reverse and the entire ship shivered.</p>
+
+<p>A woman on deck screamed, and there was a rush to the railings, for the
+old boat had been slowly making its way up the winding, treacherous
+Saigon River out of the China Sea into French Indo-China.</p>
+
+<p>"Those damned Chinks again, trying to escape the Devil!"</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter, Pop?" some one asked the captain.</p>
+
+<p>"That sampan full of Chinks was trying to get away from the River Devil,
+so they shot across our bow to fool him and we nearly ran them down."</p>
+
+<p>"Do they often indulge in that little friendly game with the Devil?" I
+asked him, smiling at his seriousness.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>"Every time we enter one of these rivers they do it. I killed six of
+them going up the river at Shanghai a year ago. It gives me the creeps
+every time I see them shoot across our bow. A ship like this will cut
+'em in two like a knife!"</p>
+
+<p>We looked over the green railing of the <i>Santa Cruz</i>. The big ship had
+almost come to a stop for the engines were still in reverse and the
+shallow river mud was churned up until the otherwise clear water looked
+like a muddy pond. The little sampan, full of grinning, naked Chinese
+coolies was fifty feet away from us, and our American sailors were
+swearing at them in every language they knew and shaking big, brawny,
+brown fists in their grinning direction.</p>
+
+<p>It was considered a joke by the passengers but it was a very real thing
+to these poor ignorant Chinese. One sees this happen everywhere in the
+Orient. For the Chinaman starts out every morning in his sampan with the
+worst kind of a River Devil after him. He must rid himself of that
+Devil. So, when a big ship comes into sight, he waits until its bow is
+very close and then darts in front of its pathway. The idea is, that
+when a sampan full of Chinamen shoots in front of a big ship the Devil
+is supposed to follow the ship all that day, and let the Chinese junk or
+sampan alone.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="confucius" id="confucius"></a>
+<img  src="images/064a.jpg" width="600" height="412" alt="Tomb of Confucius" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">CONFUCIUS' TOMB AT CHUFU, CHINA.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="ming" id="ming"></a>
+<img  src="images/064b.jpg" width="600" height="420" alt="Ming Tombs" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">RUIN OF THE MING TOMBS.</p>
+<p class="captionblockquot">The turtle, the symbol of long life, is almost as common in China as the
+dragon.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="rice" id="rice"></a>
+<img  src="images/065a.jpg" width="600" height="416" alt="Peasant grinding rice" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">GRINDING RICE IN CHINA.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="camel" id="camel"></a>
+<img  src="images/065b.jpg" width="600" height="410" alt="A camel caravan" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">A CAMEL TRAIN FROM THE PLAINS OF MONGOLIA ENTERS PEKING
+ON A WINTER'S DAY.
+</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It is the pest of an American seaman's life, for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>even a seaman hates to
+see a human being drowned.</p>
+
+<p>To an American mind this seems ridiculous. It even seems humorous. I
+shall never forget how the passengers laughed when the captain told them
+why he had had to reverse his engines to keep from crushing the frail
+Chinese sampan. But suddenly the thought came to one of the passengers;
+that to the poor Chinaman the fear which made him do that foolish thing
+and the fear which made him take that awful risk was very real.</p>
+
+<p>"Under God, the poor Devils must have an awful life if they have such a
+fear as that in their souls day and night!" said an Englishman.</p>
+
+<p>"They never start out for a day's work that they are not haunted every
+minute of that day by a thousand devils, ill-omens, and bad spirits
+which are constantly hovering about to leap on them and kill them!" said
+a missionary. "The whole Orient is full of the thought of fear!"</p>
+
+<p>This missionary was right. Paul Hutchinson, Editor of the <i>Chinese
+Christian Advocate</i> and one of the real literary men of the Americans
+who are permanent residents of Shanghai, told me of a Chinese boy who
+was graduating from a Christian College in Nanking. The boy had been for
+four years under the influence of Americans. He could speak good
+English. He was about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> ready to go to America to school when he had
+completed his work at Nanking.</p>
+
+<p>He, with a younger brother, was at home for the Christmas vacation. On
+the way back to college the younger brother fell overboard into the
+river. The older brother was not a coward. Everybody will testify to
+that. In fact he was unusually courageous. But in spite of the fact that
+his puny brother was able to swim to the side of the small boat, and in
+spite of the fact that he begged his older and stronger brother to pull
+him back into the boat, that older brother refused to do so.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hutchinson says that the English teacher heard the tale in terror,
+but that the brother took it as a matter of course, explaining that the
+River Devil would most certainly have caught and dragged into the water,
+any person who should have dared to attempt a rescue of his brother.</p>
+
+<p>It is an established thing in China; that if a native falls into the
+river, he never gets out unless he pulls himself out. Nobody will help
+him, for if they do, that will incur the wrath of the River God and the
+rescuer also will be dragged down to his death.</p>
+
+<p>It is assumed that if a person falls into the river that is the River
+God pulling him in.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>The constant fear of this River God is so deeply intrenched in these
+poor souls that they take no pleasure on the water and they carry their
+sense of fear to such an extent that they will not even attempt a rescue
+of their own babies or loved ones if these happen to fall into the
+water.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hutchinson calls attention to Dr. E. D. Soper's book "The Faiths of
+Mankind" in which there is an entire chapter called "Where Fear Holds
+Sway."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is it that fear holds sway?" the reader asks.</p>
+
+<p>The answer is, "In the Orient"!</p>
+
+<p>Yes, the whole Orient is one great gallery of dim, uncertain, weird,
+mysterious Flash-lights of Fear.</p>
+
+<p>Paul Hutchinson says:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is impossible for the Westerner to conceive such an atmosphere
+until he has lived in it. In fact he may live in it for years and
+never realize the hold which it has upon his native neighbors. But
+it is no exaggeration to say that, to the average Chinese, the air
+is peopled with countless spirits, most of them malignant, all
+attempting to do him harm. Even a catalogue of the devils, such as
+have been named by the scholarly Jesuit, Father Dore, is too long
+for the limits of this article. But there they are, millions of
+them. They hover around every motion of every waking hour, and they
+enter the sanctity of sleep. An intricate system of
+circumnavigating them, that makes the streets twist in a fashion to
+daze Boston's legendary cow and puts walls in front of doors to
+belie the hospitality within, runs through the social order."</p></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>This fear is even expressed in Chinese architecture.</p>
+
+<p>"Why is that strange wall built in front of every household door and
+even before the Temples?" I asked a friend in China.</p>
+
+<p>"It is put there to fool the devils. They will see that wall and think
+that there is no door and then will go away and not bother that house
+any more," I was told.</p>
+
+<p>The very architecture of the Chinese home is to keep the devils out. The
+strange curves with the graceful upward sweep that makes the roofs so
+beautiful to American eyes is for the purpose of throwing devils of the
+air off the track. They will come down from the skies and start down the
+curve of the roofs but will be turned back into the skies again by the
+upward slant of the twisted roofs.</p>
+
+<p>It was this same terrible sense of fear which developed the old surgical
+system that the Koreans and Chinese used before the arrival of the
+missionaries.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you see these needles?" an American surgeon in Korea asked me one
+day, as he pointed to about a hundred of the most horrible looking
+copper and brass needles lying on a stand.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I admitted, mystified.</p>
+
+<p>"I have taken every one of them out of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> bodies of human beings on
+whom I have operated here in the hospital."</p>
+
+<p>"Where did you find them?"</p>
+
+<p>"In between the bowels, in the muscles, in the organs of the body, and
+one in the heart of a man who came to me because he couldn't breathe
+very well."</p>
+
+<p>"No wonder the fellow couldn't breathe. I don't think I could myself if
+I had a needle in my blood-pump!" I said with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"These fancy needles that the old Korean doctors thought a good deal of
+they put a handle on," he continued.</p>
+
+<p>"What was that for?"</p>
+
+<p>"So they wouldn't lose their needles in a body. The other, or common
+needles, they just stuck into the body wherever the wound or sore place
+was and left them there."</p>
+
+<p>"And what, may I ask, was the idea of this playful Korean surgery! Was
+it something like our 'button, button, whose got the button?'"</p>
+
+<p>"No, the idea was that there were devils in the wound. If it was a
+swelling there was a devil in that swelling. If it was typhoid fever,
+and there was pain in the bowels, there was a devil in the inward parts
+affected, and so, after carefully sterilizing the needle by running it
+through his long, black, greasy hair, the native doctor would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> run it
+into the affected part of the body to kill the devil or let it escape
+from the body."</p>
+
+<p>"The old idea of a fear religion, a fear social life, a fear family life
+and a fear surgery prevails in Korea as it does in China?" I said by way
+of a question.</p>
+
+<p>"It prevails everywhere in the Orient. To me it is the most awful thing
+about working out here. The awful sense of constant fear that is on the
+people always and everywhere."</p>
+
+<p>Pounded-up claws of a tiger; the red horn of a deer; pulverized fish
+bones; roots of trees, pigs' eyes; and a thousand poisons and
+fear-remedies make up the medical history of the Oriental doctor.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do they kill girl babies?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fear!"</p>
+
+<p>"Fear of what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fear of devils! The devils will be displeased if a girl baby is born.
+Therefore kill the baby.</p>
+
+<p>"Throw the babies out on the ground in the graveyards. Let the dogs eat
+the babies."</p>
+
+<p>I heard the dogs howling in a cemetery one night about two o'clock in
+the morning as I was coming through the thousands of little conical
+mounds, with here and there an unburied coffin.</p>
+
+<p>"The dogs are having a baby feast to-night," said an old missionary.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>"To appease the devils."</p>
+
+<p>"My God man; you don't mean that they let the dogs eat their babies
+because they are afraid of the devil?" I cried.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean just that," replied the missionary.</p>
+
+<p>"Fear! Fear! Fear! Everywhere. Fear by night and fear by day. They never
+escape it. It is fear that makes them worship their ancestors. It is
+fear that makes them worship idols. It is fear that makes them kill
+their girl babies. It is fear that makes them build their little narrow
+winding streets, which after a while must become so filthy; fear that if
+they do not, the devils will find them; and if they do build their
+streets narrow and winding the devils will get lost searching for them.
+Oh, God, fear, fear, everywhere! The Orient is full of a terrible and a
+constant fear!"</p>
+
+<p>I looked at my friend astonished. He seldom went into such emotional
+outbursts. He was judicial, calm, poised; some said, cold. But this
+constant sense of fear that was upon the people had finally broken down
+his reserve of poise.</p>
+
+<p>"The chimneys are beautiful. See that beautiful upward dip in the
+architecture. They are like the roofs," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"But that beautiful, symmetrical development did not come out of a sense
+of beauty. It came to fool the devils just as we have said of the roofs.
+The devils will glide off into space and will never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> be able to get down
+the chimneys." It is so in other Oriental countries.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>The same is true in the Philippine Islands. The whole fabric of human
+life is permeated with the black thread of fear.</p>
+
+<p>It is true of China and Korea; it is true of Borneo to a marked degree;
+and it is true of that great mass of conglomerate humanity that we think
+of as India.</p>
+
+<p>These and other flash-lights of fear remain, and shall remain forever in
+my mind. But of a fifty thousand mile trip among hundreds of millions of
+human beings; pictures of fear stand out, blurred here and there; but
+clear enough in outline so that I can still see the human faces against
+a background of midnight darkness.</p>
+
+<p>Three pictures are clearer than the others. Perhaps it was because the
+flash that focused them on the plate of my mind was stronger. Perhaps it
+was, that the plate of my soul was more sensitive the days these
+impressions were focused. But they stand out; three flash-lights of fear
+above all:</p>
+
+<p>One was told me by Zela Wiltsie Worley, a college girl, now a
+missionary's wife, who has known what it means to lie on the floor of
+her home an entire morning with machine gun bullets<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> crashing through
+her home, between the fire of two revolutionary armies.</p>
+
+<p>"I was talking with my Amah&mdash;she is the girl who cares for our
+children," said Mrs. Worley.</p>
+
+<p>I nodded that I understood that.</p>
+
+<p>"We were bathing the baby&mdash;our first wee kiddie&mdash;and the Amah seemed to
+have an unusual inclination to talk. I had been joking with her and
+asked her if she did not want to buy Clara Gene. In fun we started the
+characteristic Chinese haggling over price, she trying to 'jew' me up
+and I trying to 'jew' her down.</p>
+
+<p>"'Oh!' she said, 'girl babies are very expensive the last two or three
+years. Now you have to pay over ten dollars to get a nice fat one!
+Before that, if you did not drown them, you had an awfully hard time to
+get rid of them. There was a man in our town to whom we took the
+babies&mdash;the girl babies I mean. He would go up and down the streets with
+them and sell them to any one who would give him a chicken and a bowl of
+rice in return.'</p>
+
+<p>"'But do they drown the girl babies now?' I asked the Amah.</p>
+
+<p>"'Oh, yes, of course, if you already have one or two boys. You know, in
+my village I am the only Christian. My own family and the rest of the
+village worship idols. They are afraid of their gods. They do not know
+any better. Why<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> my sister almost drowned my second little boy by
+mistake. He had just arrived and she thought that he was a girl, and had
+already stuck his head down in a pail of water when I rescued him.'</p>
+
+<p>"'But who usually kills the girl babies?' I asked. 'Surely not the
+mother?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, she does. She is so afraid when she finds it is only a girl,
+afraid that the gods will be angry because she has brought another girl
+into the world, that she kills it!'</p>
+
+<p>"'Do they bury it then?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Sometimes they wrap it up, and throw it under a pile of rubbish. You
+know, we do not have coffins made for any of our babies who die before
+they have had their first teeth! I have seen so many babies drowned,
+Mrs. Worley. I never did like it. They cry so!'</p>
+
+<p>"Then I inquired of our Chinese teacher's wife if she knew of girl baby
+killing still going on in China.</p>
+
+<p>"'Just last week,' this teacher's wife said in answer to my inquiry,
+'the woman next door went back to her village two miles from here and
+she saw her own sister drown a baby while she was there.'</p>
+
+<p>"I asked an English missionary if she knew that this fearful custom was
+still prevalent over most of China with its more than four hundred
+million souls.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>"She told me that it was the custom in Ning-daik for the women just to
+throw the girl babies under their beds, and they would 'be gone in a day
+or two.'</p>
+
+<p>"And it is all because of their awful fear that the gods will be
+displeased if they give birth to a girl baby!"</p>
+
+<p>The second outstanding flash-light of fear comes from Java.</p>
+
+<p>In the chapter on Physical Flash-lights I have described the old volcano
+of Bromo. It is a terrible thing to look into. Great fissures in the
+earth, belch thunder, sulphur, fire, and lava. Great rocks as large as
+wagons shoot into the air to the rim of the two hundred-foot crater, and
+then drop back with a crash.</p>
+
+<p>For centuries, and even in these days, clandestinely; I am told by men
+whom I trust; the most beautiful maiden of a certain tribe among the
+Javanese; and some of the most beautiful women I saw in the Orient were
+those soft-skinned, soft-voiced, easy-moving, graceful-limbed,
+swaying-bodied; brown skinned women of Java; she, the fairest of the
+tribe is taken; and with her the strongest limbed youth; he of the
+fibered muscles; he of the iron biceps; he of the clean skin; and the
+two of them are tossed into the belching fiery crater of old Bromo.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>"They think that in that way, they may propitiate the gods of the
+volcano. Their hearts are constantly filled with fear lest the gods of
+the volcano become angry and destroy them," said the missionary.</p>
+
+<p>Then he told me of a trip that they made a year before to the top of one
+of the most inaccessible volcanoes which was then in constant eruption.</p>
+
+<p>"We had a hard time getting native guides. Finally we succeeded. We had
+to travel fifty miles before we reached the mountain. Then we climbed
+five miles up its steep side, cutting our own trail as we made our way
+through the tropical jungle. At last we reached the timber. But before
+we entered the forest one of the guides came to me and, with the most
+pitiable and trembling fear in his voice and face, begged us white
+people not to say anything disrespectful of the mountain; not to joke
+and laugh, and not to sing; for that would make the mountain angry, and
+we would all be killed.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw that he was in deadly earnest, and, while I wanted to laugh I
+looked as solemn as I could, for there was such terror in his face, I
+knew that if I laughed he would turn and run back to civilization.</p>
+
+<p>"An hour later we reached the timber line. Before we entered it the
+first boy fell flat on his face and prayed to the god of the mountain
+asking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> that god not to hurt them. Then the next boy did likewise; then
+the third and the fourth and the fifth!</p>
+
+<p>"Their faces were almost white with fear when we missionaries did not
+pray. It filled them with terror!"</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>And the last Flash-light of Fear is that of the baby in Medan. The
+Priest lived across the way in a temple.</p>
+
+<p>The baby was sick with whooping-cough. It was the usual, simple case of
+baby sickness that American babies all have, and which is not taken
+seriously here by either doctor or mother.</p>
+
+<p>The mother took the baby to the priest.</p>
+
+<p>The priest took a red hot iron; laid the baby on the church altar and
+ran the iron across its neck, and then across its breast and then across
+its little stomach. Then he laid it on the front steps of the temple.</p>
+
+<p>The baby died after a few hours spent in terrible pain.</p>
+
+<p>Hate the Priest?</p>
+
+<p>No!</p>
+
+<p>Despise the mother?</p>
+
+<p>No!</p>
+
+<p>Pity them!</p>
+
+<p>The priest was honest and the mother was honest. They were doing the
+best thing for the baby<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> that either of them knew. They knew that the
+baby had a devil in its little body and they were merely trying to drive
+that devil out of its body.</p>
+
+<p>Fear! Fear! Fear! Fear of devils in the home, lurking in the shadows of
+night and in the light of day; lurking in the bodies of babies; devils
+everywhere&mdash;always.</p>
+
+<p>These are the Flash-lights of Fear!</p>
+
+<p>And like unto them are the pictures of Frightfulness which I have set
+down in the next chapter.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER V<br />
+<small>FLASH-LIGHTS OF FRIGHTFULNESS</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"The Jap is the slant-eyed Hun of the Orient. He has a slant-eyed
+ethics, a slant-eyed morality, a slant-eyed honesty, a slant-eyed social
+consciousness; a slant-eyed ambition, a slant-eyed military system; and
+a slant-eyed mind!" said Peter Clarke Macfarlane, the well-known author
+and lecturer, one day when I was interviewing him on the Japanese
+question.</p>
+
+<p>"That's pretty strong, Mr. Macfarlane, in the light of your usual
+conservatism," I commented.</p>
+
+<p>"I say it carefully and after much thought. It is said to stay said so
+far, as I am concerned," he added with finality.</p>
+
+<p>This was also my own opinion, after spending three months in Japan and
+Korea, another month in China; and another month or two in Manila;
+catching the angle of Japanese leadership from every slant.</p>
+
+<p>And after due consideration, and after a year to think it over
+carefully, I am here to say, that I never saw, or heard of anything
+worse happening in Belgium under German rule than that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> which I saw and
+heard of happening under Japanese rule in Korea, Siberia and Formosa,
+while I was in the Orient.</p>
+
+<p>Suffice it is to say, at this point, that the Japanese is hated by the
+whole Orient. I do not believe that the German Hun in his worst day was
+ever hated more unanimously for his inhuman practices than is the Jap
+Hun hated by the whole Orient to-day.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it getting better or worse?" I am asked constantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Worse!" I reply, and this reply is backed up by interviews I have had
+with returned Korean missionaries.</p>
+
+<p>I found the Japanese scorned and hated from one end of the Orient to the
+other. As far south as Java, as far east as the Suez; as far north as
+the uttermost reaches of Manchuria and Siberia; as far this direction as
+Hawaii.</p>
+
+<p>For instance, after I had been away from Korea for six months and had
+come back to America I met a most conservative missionary in the Romona
+Hotel in San Francisco. The last time previous to that meeting that I
+had seen him was in Korea itself.</p>
+
+<p>I said to him "Are things better or worse in Korea?"</p>
+
+<p>His reply was, "Worse than they have ever been; generally speaking!" I
+have no intention<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> and no desire to further augment ill feeling between
+America and Japan. In fact I do not fear anything like war in that
+direction; but I do have an intense feeling of responsibility about
+telling my readers the plain and simple truth that the whole Far Eastern
+world hates Japan.</p>
+
+<p>If that thought itself can get into the mind of America, this country
+will understand, at least, that there is some fault that lies back in
+the Japanese military policy and character itself. It hardly seems
+possible, with ten races and five different countries hating Japan; that
+Japan herself is not mostly to blame. When a matter of hatred is so
+unanimous among all races in that part of the world, it is likely that
+the fault lies with the race and nation which has the hatred of so many
+types of people focused on its actions.</p>
+
+<p>While I was in Java some high dignitaries in the Japanese Navy arrived
+in Batavia. The Chinese Coolies who live in Batavia absolutely refused
+to carry any Japanese officers or sailors in their Rickshas. It was a
+striking indictment of the Japanese nation.</p>
+
+<p>In Singapore the distrust and hatred of the Japanese is unanimous. In
+the Philippines it is the same. In Hongkong you see few Japanese. They
+are not wanted and they are not trusted. In Shanghai, and Peking it is
+the same. The Student Movement, one of the most powerful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> weapons that
+has ever arisen in any nation in the world, has focused the Chinese
+sentiment against selfish Japanese aggression in China.</p>
+
+<p>The Japanese officials laughed at the Student Boycott of Japanese goods
+when it first started. But in a year they were trembling in the face of
+that boycott. I was in Tientsin, and Peking during the days of the
+Student Street Demonstrations. They were like American demonstrations.</p>
+
+<p>Keen, alert, intelligent Chinese boys addressed the crowds admonishing
+them not to buy Japanese goods in Chinese shops. The pressure became so
+strong that all Chinese merchants from the lowest shopkeeper up to the
+owner of the great chain stores, like our Woolworth institutions, put
+away Japanese-made goods and refused to sell them.</p>
+
+<p>I took dinner in Shanghai with one of the foremost merchant princes of
+China and said, "Are you selling any Japanese-made goods?"</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly am not. I am not powerful enough with all my millions of
+money and all of my chain of stores to take such a chance as that. I
+have put all of my Japanese goods in the cellar."</p>
+
+<p>The Boycott against Japanese goods in China became so powerful that in
+Tientsin, while I was there, the Japanese Consul complained bitterly to
+the Governor of the Province and the Governor who was said to be under
+the influence of Japanese money, arrested a lot of students. There was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
+one of the most determined and terrible riots that I have ever seen. It
+was war. It was not like any mild American riot. It was war to the
+death. Several students were killed and finally the pressure was so
+strong that even this Japanese Agent was compelled to release the
+imprisoned students. I shall quote from an editorial that I was asked to
+write for the Peking <i>Leader</i> during my stay in China:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The weapon which most worries the Japanese I should say, is the
+boycott that the Students Movement has inaugurated. The Japanese
+Government never had anything that quite worried it so much. It is
+a weapon that is worth a thousand battleships, or fifty divisions
+of soldiers. It is a weapon that will, if continuously, and
+consistently and faithfully used, bring a money-loving nation, like
+Japan to her knees, and send her finally, scurrying like a whipped
+cur, with her tail between her legs back home where she belongs.</p></div>
+
+<p>I talked with a ragged Chinese boy through an interpreter just to find
+what his reactions to the Japanese were. He was a beggar. He said, "The
+Japanese has a heart like a dog and a liver like a wolf."</p>
+
+<p>I quote again from the editorial in the Peking <i>Leader</i>:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>All day I have been on the streets of Peking listening to groups of
+students discussing the all <span class='pagenumbq'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>absorbing-question of the Boycott. I
+have not understood the characters printed on their banners, but I
+have understood the light in Young China's eyes. I can understand
+that language and that light, for it is the language and the light
+of freedom, justice, liberty! I am an American. I understand that
+light when I see it; and I know also; that it is a light that can
+never be snuffed out. It is a light that prison walls cannot hide
+and that the brute hand of the invader cannot dim.</p></div>
+
+<p>"And what are they protesting against?" is the question asked.</p>
+
+<p>Primarily against the Japanese control of Shantung. Secondarily,
+against a type of civilization which Japan represents; a civilization
+that uses the weapons of frightfulness to accomplish its ends; a
+civilization that steals a nation like Korea, compelling the abdication
+of a weak Emperor at the point of the bayonet; and then using the avowed
+method of extermination to deplete a subjected nation. The whole Orient
+knows Japan and knows the methods that Japan has used and is using in
+conquered territory. It is a continuous and continual policy of
+extermination, frightfulness, and assimilation. This is the underlying
+cause of the hatred of the whole Orient and the Far and Near East
+against Japan; and this is the fundamental reason for the Students'
+Boycott of Japanese goods in China.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>One might devote an entire book to narrations of frightful cruelties
+perpetrated by Japanese on Koreans, Siberians and Formosans; but that
+would not be so strong as the setting forth of the underlying ethical
+reasons for this universal hatred in which Japan is held.</p>
+
+<p>However it might be quite honest and fair for this writer to set down
+here several acts of frightfulness that came under his own personal
+observation merely as casual illustrations of that which is going on all
+the time.</p>
+
+<p>One day I was walking with a missionary's wife through the streets of
+Seoul. There was an excavation being made and a little railroad track
+was being run along this excavation. A Korean boy had been set to guard
+this track to keep folks from getting hurt when the dump car came down
+its steep grade. He had been ordered by his Japanese employers to stop
+all passage when the signal was given.</p>
+
+<p>We were walking along when this Korean stopped an ordinary Japanese
+civilian. He was of the low-browed type; mentally deficient I should
+say; but quite the average type that is used by Japan to settle these
+conquered countries.</p>
+
+<p>The Korean held up his hands in warning.</p>
+
+<p>The Japanese stooped over, picked up a stone as large as a cabbage head
+and, with only a space<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> of two feet between himself and the Korean,
+threw it with all his force against the cheek of the Korean and smashed
+his jaw in, tearing his ear off, breaking his jaw bone, and lacerating
+his face fearfully. It was one of the most inhuman things that I have
+ever seen done.</p>
+
+<p>The missionary woman said to the Korean when the Jap ran; "Why do you
+not report this to the Japanese police?"</p>
+
+<p>"It would do no good. They would give no justice to me, and I would be
+hounded to my death for reporting it."</p>
+
+<p>One evening with a friend I had been speaking in Pyeng Yang. It was
+midnight one Sunday and we were waiting for a train down to Seoul. As we
+stood on the platform waiting; a north-bound train came in. It stopped.
+As it stopped several Japanese train boys got off of the train. An old
+white-haired Korean gentleman, about seventy-five years of age, stood on
+the platform waiting for the train. He was intelligent looking; poised;
+and well-dressed in the usual immaculately white robes.</p>
+
+<p>A fifteen-year old Japanese train boy, seeing him standing there,
+deliberately ran out of his way, lowered his shoulders like a football
+charger and ran squarely into the old man, knocking him down to the
+platform and ran on with a laugh and some muttered Japanese words.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>The dignified Korean gentleman got up, brushed the dirt from his
+clothes; did not even deign to glance at the offending boy; and walked
+on as if nothing had happened.</p>
+
+<p>This scene illustrates two things: First, the superiority of the Korean
+mind and character to that of the Japanese. This is one of the causes of
+the extreme frightfulness pursued by the Japanese. They instinctively
+feel the superiority of their captives. It is not the first time in
+history that a lesser nation has conquered a superior people.</p>
+
+<p>This superiority in soul-stuff that the Korean has over that of the
+Japanese is recognized immediately by all Europeans and Americans who
+become, even in the least bit, familiar with the two peoples. The
+sympathy of Christian civilizations is with the Koreans immediately.</p>
+
+<p>The other thing that this simple scene illustrates, is the spirit of
+ruthless cruelty and frightfulness that is bred in the very soul of the
+youth of Japan toward the Koreans. Even the train boys can do a thing
+like that without fear of punishment.</p>
+
+<p>The first day that we were in Seoul, the capital city of Korea, Pat
+McConnell and myself were walking down the main street of this
+interesting city toward the depot. Parallel with us marched a squad of
+Japanese soldiers. In front<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> of them, going the same direction, was a
+poor Korean workman pushing a small cart that looked like our American
+wheelbarrow.</p>
+
+<p>The Japanese soldiers were in formation and marching in the middle of a
+wide street. But deliberately; evidently with orders from their officer
+in charge; they edged over to that side of the street where the Korean
+was walking and pushed him into the curb stone, kicking his barrow as
+they passed, although this meant a useless swerving of, at least,
+fifteen feet out of their course to do so. It was a case of deliberate
+brutality.</p>
+
+<p>"Korea is a land of trails and terraces," said a prominent missionary in
+that fair spot to me one day as we were riding from Fusan to Seoul.</p>
+
+<p>"And terror," added another traveler from America. "It is a land of
+trails, terraces, and terror!"</p>
+
+<p>One day a friend of mine was begging Baron Saito, the present
+Governor-General of Korea, to stop the cruelties of the Japanese
+gendarmes in villages in northern Korea. The Baron asked for the names
+of those who had given the missionary his information about the
+cruelties and he refused to give them.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should you not give them?" asked Baron Saito.</p>
+
+<p>"Because they would be killed for complaining," said the missionary.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>Then he told Governor-General Saito how he had once complained to the
+police department when a father and son were cruelly beaten in prison.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me their names," said the gendarme.</p>
+
+<p>"I will if you will give me a promise that they will be protected."</p>
+
+<p>"No! I cannot do that! The gendarmes are very revengeful!"</p>
+
+<p>I know personally of a Korean preacher who has done no greater crime
+than to attend a meeting at a dinner given for released Korean
+prisoners. He was arrested and kept in jail for three days, just for
+attending that dinner.</p>
+
+<p>Another preacher with whom I talked was suspected of collecting money
+eight months after the March Independence Movement. When he heard that
+the Japanese police were coming for him he fled. This angered the
+police. They appeared the next morning at three o'clock at his home.
+There were only the mother and a twelve-year-old daughter left. First
+the gendarmes burst in the frail doors with the butts of their rifles,
+and then from three o'clock in the morning until daylight, they beat and
+tortured those two helpless Christian Korean women; kicking them all
+over the house until they were unconscious. These two Korean women were
+in bed for two weeks because of that night's experience and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> were not
+able to walk for a much longer period than that.</p>
+
+<p>And these women were educated, cultured women. They had committed no
+crime. It was simply because they did not know where the father was.</p>
+
+<p>Later the father and son were arrested. They were beaten cruelly in the
+process of arrest although they offered no resistance. The son later
+said to me, "I could stand it to be beaten myself and even to see my
+father beaten but the unbearably cruel thing was to know that they had
+beaten my innocent mother and sister when no man was there to protect
+them."</p>
+
+<p>I cite this instance because it happened eight months after the
+Independence Movement, and three months after the so-called reform
+Government of Baron Saito had been in effect and after the Japanese
+Press had said to the world that all cruelties had ceased.</p>
+
+<p>A case of frightfulness that was called to my attention; which seemed to
+me to be the very essence of cruelty was that of the moral terrorizing
+of an educated Korean Pastor, whom the police merely suspected of having
+had something to do with the Independence Movement. They had no direct
+evidence but submitted him to months of moral terrorizing which was the
+worst I have ever heard of.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>For months at a stretch they would suddenly appear outside of his home
+and thrust their bayonets through his doors. Then they would go away
+without saying a word. He had absolutely no redress. If he had
+complained, he would have been thrown into prison.</p>
+
+<p>One of the most reliable missionaries that I met in Korea told me of how
+one morning the policemen came to a church in northern Korea during the
+hour of service. They broke eighty windows, arrested fourteen men,
+smashed the little organ with their gun butts, smashed a beautiful lamp,
+tore up the mat seats from the floors, and burned them in front of the
+church.</p>
+
+<p>At the funeral service of another young Korean preacher, Pak Suk Han in
+Pyeng Yang, hundreds of Japanese soldiers appeared with drawn bayonets
+just to terrorize the people. The church was full of Japanese officers
+with drawn swords.</p>
+
+<p>"What would have happened if somebody in a fit of patriotism had shouted
+'Mansei'?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"We would have been killed instantly!" said the missionary soberly. "I
+was afraid of that!"</p>
+
+<p>A prominent, educated and English-speaking Korean official, told me that
+in a conversation with a high Japanese official that that particular
+Japanese had said "Our plan will be to assimilate the Korean people!"</p>
+
+<p>"But that will be impossible. There are twenty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> million of us. You will
+find that a hard thing to do!" said this Korean.</p>
+
+<p>The Japanese official smiled and said significantly, "We know the way!"</p>
+
+<p>The Korean knew what that meant. It meant extermination; extermination
+in every way possible. It meant extermination by introducing
+prostitution in Korea. This has been done. Korea never had any legalized
+prostitution. Korea never knew what the Red Light Section meant. Japan's
+first move was to introduce that. She sent her diseased women to Korea.
+She made prostitution ridiculously cheap; fifty sen; which is
+twenty-five cents in American money.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>It is one of her ways of assimilation which means extermination and she
+has already shot venereal disease rates up to an alarming state in
+Korea.</p>
+
+<p>Her next step in frightfulness was to introduce opium. Japanese Agents
+raise thousands of acres of Opium in Korea and sell it. This is another
+one of her steps in the process of assimilation or extermination.</p>
+
+<p>Japan has stolen from poor Koreans their rice lands and their coal beds.
+The process is for a Japanese company to buy the water sources of the
+rice paddies below and then refuse to let the Koreans have water for his
+rice fields. This is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> another step in frightfulness that will finally
+exterminate the Korean if it keeps up long enough.</p>
+
+<p>The recent massacre of Koreans in Manchuria by Japanese soldiers
+illustrate the Japanese spirit.</p>
+
+<p>This same policy of frightfulness is carried on in Formosa and in
+Siberia and wherever the Japanese army and gendarme system has
+authority. It is worse than anything that the Germans ever did in France
+or Belgium. It has its only parallel in the dark ages.</p>
+
+<p>I told Baron Saito, Governor-General of Korea this in an interview. He
+wanted to know what America thought of Japan's rule in Korea. I said:
+"America and the whole civilized world is stirred with indignation at
+the Japanese rule in Korea. There has been nothing like it since the
+dark ages." Then I read him a quotation from an editorial in <i>Zion's
+Herald</i>, a church paper published in Boston with virtually those words
+in it.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>My friend, whom I met first in France, when he came back from. France
+was sent to Siberia as a Captain in the American Army.</p>
+
+<p>I met him in Manila just after he had returned from Siberia. He, in
+common with all Americans who had seen the Japanese methods of
+frightfulness in Siberia, was filled with hatred.</p>
+
+<p>"One night," he said, "a company of Japanese<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> soldiers entered the
+little village six hundred miles north of Vladivostok where we were
+located. They announced that they were hunting for Bolsheviks.</p>
+
+<p>"They did not find any in the little village, although they ruthlessly
+broke down every door of every home in that village. Then they went out
+to a sawmill about three miles from town and brought in five boys
+between the ages of twelve and eighteen.</p>
+
+<p>"After torturing these boys in an old box car for two days, hanging them
+up by the thumbs with their arms behind their backs until they were
+unconscious; and then forcing salt water, hot water, cold water, and
+water with pepper in it down their nostrils, alternately; and other
+added cruelties; they announced to the village that they would release
+them that night on the public square."</p>
+
+<p>"Did they do it?" I asked anxiously, for I was stirred to my soul's
+depths with his narration of cruelties in Siberia.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, they released them; in this way:</p>
+
+<p>"They called all the friends and families of the prisoners together on
+the public square. Then they dug five graves. Then five Japanese
+officers came stalking across the public square, whisking at the
+thistle-tops with swords as they came; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> then walked up to these
+innocent Russian boys, and whacked off their heads.</p>
+
+<p>"Had they been tried?" I asked indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>"They had been given no trial. They were mere boys, who, probably,
+didn't even know what the word Bolshevik meant. It was the worst
+illustration of frightfulness that I ever saw, although it was a common
+thing for the Japanese troops to go through the country upsetting the
+barrels of honey that the poor peasants were saving up for the long
+winters; rooting up their young potatoes; cutting the throats of their
+colts and cattle, and ravishing the land."</p>
+
+<p>"How could you stand it?"</p>
+
+<p>"We couldn't stand it. I had to fight to keep my company of Americans
+from sailing into them with fists and bayonets. It would have meant war.
+So I sent word back to headquarters that we were out of provisions and
+we were called back to Vladivostok."</p>
+
+<p>Can this scene be duplicated in Formosa and Korea, where the Japanese
+hold sway?</p>
+
+<p>It can.</p>
+
+<p>During the Independence Movement in Korea this thing happened: All of
+the Korean Christians had been asked to assemble in a church for a
+meeting. When they were all in the church, the Japanese gendarme set
+fire to the church and then fired into it, killing every man.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>A woman, big with child, came running toward the church having heard the
+shooting and knowing that her husband was within.</p>
+
+<p>A big, burly Japanese pushed her back.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want?" he cried in Korean.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to go in there. My husband is there," she cried in terror.</p>
+
+<p>"But you will be killed if you go in there!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care! I want to die if he is to die!"</p>
+
+<p>"All right! You shall have your wish!" said the Japanese, and pulling
+out his sword, cut off her head, killing her instantly. She fell at his
+feet with her unborn child; and he laughed aloud at the spectacle.</p>
+
+<p>This is Japanese frightfulness and it can be duplicated by many
+missionaries in Korea if they dared to speak.</p>
+
+<p>But the minute they speak and tell the truth that minute they are sent
+home from their life work. They realize that this leaves the Koreans to
+the utter and awful cruelties of the barbarous Japanese, and because of
+this, in spite of their indignation they hold their tongues for the
+larger good. But they eagerly give the facts to those of us who are
+coming back to America so that America in turn may know what is going on
+in Korea. That is the only hope; that the indignation of a righteous
+world, without war, may bring pressure to bear on Japan to stop these
+terrible<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> cruelties and tortures; this unutterable frightfulness. This
+is the hope of the missionaries; this is the only hope of the Koreans!</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>I don't know whether or not it was because I had been listening for so
+long to the most brutal stories of Japanese treatment of Korean men,
+women and children; with murder, rapine, burning of homes, especially
+Christian homes; beating of a mother and her twelve-year-old girl from
+three in the morning until eight to make them reveal the hiding-place of
+their preacher daddy, that the crimson, blood-red sunset I witnessed on
+my last night in Korea seemed to me like a "sunset of crimson wounds."
+All I know is that it happened in Korea while I was there, and that my
+soul had been, for a solid month, stirred to the depths of its righteous
+wrath over the things that I had heard first-hand from human lips.</p>
+
+<p>But there it was. The sky was blood-red. At first it was black, a somber
+black. Not a coal-black but a slate black. Then suddenly just at the
+edge of the horizon a crack began to appear. It was a slit of blood. It
+looked more like a wound than anything else I ever saw. The slit of
+blood grew larger and larger in the slate-black clouds.</p>
+
+<p>Then suddenly all over the horizon these wounds began to break through
+the mass of black<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> clouds. Some of these slits were horizontal slits,
+and some of them ran in graceful curves. Some of them looked as if a
+bayonet had been lunged into the body of that somber cloud and a great
+crimson gash was made with ragged edges as big as a house. Then it
+looked as if some ruthless Japanese gendarme had taken his sword and
+slashed a rip in the abdomen of that sky; and from side to side like a
+crescent moon appeared this great crimson wound.</p>
+
+<p>I had never seen a sunset just like it. But there it was. It seemed that
+there was back of that great black cloud a blood-red planet, pouring its
+crimson tides like a great waterfall down back of that slate-black mass
+until finally the curtain of black began to tear, and the blood poured
+through to run along the horizon, and splash against the clouds, and
+slit its way like wounds through the clouds of night.</p>
+
+<p>And I thought of something else. I thought how a Man once was crucified.
+I thought how dark the skies were on that afternoon. I thought how
+slate-colored and somber all life seemed, especially to that little
+group of disciples. I thought of the wounds in His hands and feet and
+side. I thought of the wounds the thorns in His crown made, and of the
+blood that ran over His face. I could see Him there back of that cloud
+in Korea. I could see His Christian people being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> crucified again
+because of their religion. I could see Japanese bayonets thrust into His
+side and Japanese nails through His feet and His hands. I could see a
+Japanese crown of thorns on His head because He said, "Inasmuch as ye
+have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren ye have done it
+unto me." And I could see the blood of his wounds breaking through that
+nation's clouds on that wonder evening of the "sunset of wounds" back of
+the Korean mountains in December.</p>
+
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI<br />
+<small>FEMININE FLASH-LIGHTS</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>"Oriental women are fascinating to Occidental men," said a newspaper
+reporter in a Shanghai hotel lobby, a year ago.</p>
+
+<p>"All women are fascinating to Occidental men. Take the French girls and
+the way they captured our American soldiers; of course, these
+brown-eyed, brown-skinned, graceful, mysterious&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It's just as I said," replied the first speaker interrupting the second
+speaker, "Oriental girls are more fascinating to Occidental men than
+white girls."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;I guess you are right, when we get down to the honest to goodness
+truth of the thing," said an American oil man. "Take that Javanese girl
+who knocked at the door of my room; or take that half-breed Malay girl
+we met on the ship between Singapore and Batavia; or that little
+red-cheeked Japanese girl in Tokyo; or that Spanish brunette in Manila;
+or&mdash;Oh, Boy! Do you remember that Chinese half-breed, with English blood
+in her veins and an English education in her brain and Paris clothes on
+her back,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> and American pep in her eyes, and Japanese silk stockings on
+her&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Come on! Come on! We didn't call on you for a lecture on Oriental girls
+whom you have met," said the first speaker.</p>
+
+<p>Then a bell boy paged me and I lost the rest of the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>But this dialogue set me to thinking on the various types of fascinating
+Oriental women; the standing they have in the world; and the status of
+their living.</p>
+
+<p>There were the Japanese women; beautiful, graceful, red-cheeked, small
+of stature, wistful-eyed, colorfully dressed; always smiling slaves to
+their men.</p>
+
+<p>The well-trained Geisha girl has, for centuries, because of her superior
+education, received the confidences of Japanese men; while a Japanese
+man would scorn to talk things over with his wife.</p>
+
+<p>There was the banquet we attended at the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo. Mr.
+Uchida, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and many of the high officials
+of Japan were present with their wives. Several members of the House of
+Parliament were present as well as the Secretary to Mr. Hara, the Prime
+Minister. Each of these great leaders of Japan had his wife by his side
+at the banquet table.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>It was a small group.</p>
+
+<p>One of the speakers of the evening said: "Perhaps you Americans do not
+realize that this banquet is an unusual occasion in Japan. I think that
+it is the first time that I have ever attended a banquet in all my life,
+when so many Japanese gentlemen had their own wives with them at that
+banquet. It is a very unusual thing to do, but I hope that, in time, it
+will become more common in Japan, as it is in America."</p>
+
+<p>This speech was met with amused laughter on the part of the Japanese
+gentlemen present; but laughter that was kindly; and it was met with
+applause on the part of the Americans present.</p>
+
+<p>It was typical of the attitude of even the educated Japanese man toward
+the matter of appearing in public with his wife at his side.</p>
+
+<p>Up in Sapporo, on the island of Hokkaido, we were entertained by a
+beautiful Japanese woman. We had been away from America for several
+months and were tired of eating Japanese food, so when we were invited
+to this Japanese home for a dinner we groaned.</p>
+
+<p>But much to our delight, when we sat down we had as fine an American
+dinner as any of us had ever eaten.</p>
+
+<p>I turned to our hostess, a most beautiful Japanese woman; the wife of
+the Dean of the College<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> at Sapporo; and said: "Do you have servants who
+know how to cook American food?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I cooked it all myself!" she said much to my surprise with a bow
+and a smile.</p>
+
+<p>And there she sat, cool and poised after having cooked food enough for
+fifteen people that morning; and arranging for it to be served in the
+finest style; with place cards, salted almonds, Turkey, pudding,
+vegetables and everything that makes an American dinner good; including
+a fine salad. There she sat; as cool, calm and collected as if servants
+had done all of the work that morning instead of she herself.</p>
+
+<p>And never in all of my life have I seen a more gracious hostess. She
+watched the wants of every guest. She noted which guests liked a special
+food, and saw to it that they had plenty of that particular food; and,
+in addition to this she kept a fascinating line of conversation going
+constantly during the meal.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you live in American fashion or Japanese fashion?" I asked her,
+knowing that she had been educated in America.</p>
+
+<p>"Both!" was her reply. "We have Japanese rooms for our Japanese guests
+and American rooms for our European and American guests."</p>
+
+<p>"But how do you live yourselves; how are you training your children?" I
+asked her.</p>
+
+<p>"We are training our daughters to live in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> American style; on a common
+ground with the men. That is the better way. That is the fairer way!
+That is the way out of our feminine darkness!"</p>
+
+<p>She said it quietly, with poise, and with a fine assurance which was
+thrilling. It sounded like a call to battle, like a trumpet note in the
+new freedom for women.</p>
+
+<p>A missionary friend told me at the conclusion of that meal that this
+beautiful young Japanese hostess whispered to her Mother-in-law during
+the dinner a phrase that sounded strangely like American slang, when she
+noted that her mother-in-law was not carrying on much of a conversation
+with the man beside her, "Start something! He can speak Japanese as well
+as English!"</p>
+
+<p>At that, dear Mrs. Mother-in-law started an animated conversation in
+Japanese with her silent guest on her left. This was illustrative of the
+care with which our hostess was watching that we be kept happy at her
+table. It was a Feminine Flash-light that I do not care to forget; an
+illustration of the possible efficiency, poise, grace, beauty and
+sweetness of the Japanese woman of the future when she shall have won
+her rights of freedom from the slavery of an inferior position to man in
+the social scale.</p>
+
+<p>To an American, the position of woman in regard to prostitution in Japan
+is a terrible thing,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> but when we consider the light in which the
+Ethical thought of Japan sees it, we do not blame the women any more
+than Jesus blamed the woman taken in adultery in his day.</p>
+
+<p>The system of prostitution is run by the Government and the largest
+income that the Government has, comes from the sale of Sake, the
+national drink, and its houses of prostitution.</p>
+
+<p>A woman who becomes a Prostitute is looked upon as a heroine. This is
+for the simple reason that she is given a matter of several hundred yen,
+it depending upon her form, beauty and qualifications for her position;
+and that money goes to her poor parents. When she leaves her little
+village to give a certain number of the years of her life to the
+Yoshiwara in order to free her parents from debt she is lauded and f&ecirc;ted
+by the people of her village and sent off as one who goes on a crusade
+of service.</p>
+
+<p>Prostitution is so much a part of the acknowledged life of Japan that
+Temples for prostitutes exist where they may go and pray. In one Temple
+we saw large numbers of photographs put up by certain girls of the
+Yoshiwara to advertise their wares.</p>
+
+<p>Consequently there is no fine tradition of ethical values established in
+Japan and the poor girl herself is not to blame. Nor is she blamed; for
+it is not at all an uncommon thing for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> Japanese girl to marry out of
+a house of prostitution into a fine family.</p>
+
+<p>One of the terrible Feminine Flash-lights that every careful traveler
+discovers in the Orient is the presence of Japanese girls in the
+segregated sections of Shanghai, Seoul, Peking, Nanking; and even so far
+away as Singapore. I understand however that a recent order from the
+Emperor has called all these girls back to Japan, which is an upward
+step not only for Japan as a nation; but for the womankind of Japan.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>It was in a Japanese Hotel in northern China that Pat McConnell and I
+had our experience with the strange ways and customs of Japan. Pat was
+taking the pictures and I was writing the stories.</p>
+
+<p>We thought it would be an unusual experience to stay all night at a
+regular Japanese Inn. We stayed.</p>
+
+<p>That night, much to the amusement, of the missionaries who stayed with
+us, three beautiful Japanese girls came gracefully into the cold room
+where we had started to take our clothes off.</p>
+
+<p>They bowed several times as they came with cups of hot tea.</p>
+
+<p>They seemed to pay particular attention to me.</p>
+
+<p>All three of them bowed to me first and then each proceeded to select an
+individual man to whom they served tea.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>I took it for granted that they had paid this particular attention to me
+because of some special characteristic of masculine beauty or
+intellectual appearance; or atmosphere of greatness that must have
+hovered about me in some unknown fashion.</p>
+
+<p>I made the mistake of swelling up with pride and bragging about this
+attention that I had received.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that's because of your bald head. They think that you are the old
+man of the party. They have great respect for old age!" the missionary
+said with a roar of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>The truth of the matter was that I was the youngest of the party, but
+those girls had selected me as the venerable member of the group of
+Americans.</p>
+
+<p>But the climax came when these young ladies decided to stay with us "To
+the bitter end" as Pat called it.</p>
+
+<p>After filling us with tea they still remained; bowing and smiling; even
+though they could not understand a word we were saying nor we a word
+that they were saying.</p>
+
+<p>"It's one o'clock now! I'd like to get to bed," said Pat.</p>
+
+<p>"How long will they stay with us?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>The missionaries only grinned in reply.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>"By George, I'm going to take my shirt off and see if they won't go!"
+said Pat.</p>
+
+<p>He took it off. The young girl who was serving him took his shirt and
+after neatly folding it, laid it carefully away.</p>
+
+<p>"So that's what they're waiting for; to undress us?" queried Pat and the
+missionaries laughed again, waiting to see what would happen.</p>
+
+<p>"They can go as far as they like. If they can stand it, I can!" said
+Pat.</p>
+
+<p>Then he took off his shoes.</p>
+
+<p>A young lady took the shoes, carefully brushed them off, and put them
+away. Then he took off socks, followed by his trousers.</p>
+
+<p>It looked as they would stay until Pat got into his Pajamas. He was in a
+corner.</p>
+
+<p>"It seems as if this young lady wants to put me to bed right!" said Pat,
+with a grin.</p>
+
+<p>"That's exactly what she is here for. It's a hotel custom in Japanese
+hotels and we get so that we don't think anything of it. They bathe in
+the same pool; men and women alike; and think nothing of it. After all,
+modesty is not entirely a matter of clothes, as the Japanese prove."</p>
+
+<p>"Anyhow, that's what I call service!" said Pat with a grin.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>It was a cold winter night in Seoul, Korea. I had been invited to dinner
+at a Korean home;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> the home of a former Governor under the Korean
+regime; and now, a respected official under the Japanese rule.</p>
+
+<p>I had looked forward to this dinner with unusual interest.</p>
+
+<p>We took Rickshas to get there and nearly froze on the way.</p>
+
+<p>We took both our shoes and our coats off on the back porch and left them
+to the tender mercies of the zero weather which prevailed on that night.</p>
+
+<p>We were ushered into this beautiful home.</p>
+
+<p>A room was full of men; stately sons of the family; the gray-bearded,
+dignified father; but no women, not a single woman. I wondered about
+this, for I knew that this household was noted for its beautiful
+daughters and a wonderful mother. The missionaries had told me that.</p>
+
+<p>I wondered why no women came to welcome me.</p>
+
+<p>Finally we sat down to one of those interminable Oriental dinners, with
+thirty or forty courses; squatted on our haunches, on the cold floor;
+half-frozen, cramped and uncomfortable.</p>
+
+<p>Then in came a beautiful girl. She was beautiful in every sense of the
+word; physically and spiritually. There was a touch of refinement about
+her which made me know that she had received an English education.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>But she was not there for any part of the dinner. Not at all. She was
+there merely to serve.</p>
+
+<p>I found that she could speak English and every time she came to serve
+me, I took the opportunity of talking with her; taking a chance on
+whether it was diplomatic for me to do so or not. I was after
+information.</p>
+
+<p>"You speak good English?" I said. "Why do you not sit down and eat with
+us?"</p>
+
+<p>She laughed aloud.</p>
+
+<p>"My father would drop over dead if I did. It is not the custom in Korea
+for the women of the family to dine with the men on an occasion like
+this. We eat alone in the kitchen."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you a mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but she is in the kitchen."</p>
+
+<p>"Will I not get to meet her before I go?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps? Perhaps not. If you meet her at all it will be just at the
+close, of the evening, providing my father thinks to call her. It is not
+important; so our Korean men think."</p>
+
+<p>"But you; you know better? You have been in an American School?" I said,
+as she came in for the fifteenth course and paused a moment to talk with
+me.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know better! I know the American way of treating women is the
+Christian way," she said sadly.</p>
+
+<p>"And what do you think of that way? Do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> you not like that way better
+than the Korean way?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"The American way is much better." Then she paused and much to my
+delight used a typical American girl's phrase, with an appealing touch
+of pathos in her voice and a blush of crimson in her brown cheeks, "Why,
+I just love the American way!" she said and then fled, blushing with
+shame, as if she had said something immodest.</p>
+
+<p>I did not see her again that evening. Nor did I see any of the other
+women of that household. Nor did I see the mother of the home at all.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>It was in a Shanghai hospital. I was sitting beside an American
+newspaper friend who was at the head of the Chinese Information Bureau.
+He was a world-vagabond. Beside his bed sat a beautiful Chinese girl,
+who had been educated in England and whose mother was a Scotch woman.
+Her father was a full-blooded Chinese.</p>
+
+<p>"I love her but she won't marry me!" said my friend suddenly looking up
+toward the Chinese girl.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="heaven" id="heaven"></a>
+<img  src="images/112a.jpg" width="600" height="409" alt="Temple of Heaven" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">THE TEMPLE OF HEAVEN, PEKING.</p>
+<p class="captionblockquot">Long before a single cathedral had been built in Europe this beautiful
+structure was erected.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="pagoda" id="pagoda"></a>
+<img  src="images/112b.jpg" width="600" height="412" alt="A Pagoda" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">A BEAUTIFUL THIRTEEN STORY PAGODA NEAR PEKING.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="shrine" id="shrine"></a>
+<img  src="images/113a.jpg" width="600" height="412" alt="A wayside shrine" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">MILLIONS OF WAYSIDE TEMPLES AND SHRINES ADORN THE FIELDS
+AND HIGHWAYS EVERYWHERE IN JAPAN, KOREA, AND CHINA. THIS IS ONE OF THEM.
+A SHRINE AND A TEMPLE.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="silhouette" id="silhouette"></a>
+<img  src="images/113b.jpg" width="600" height="412" alt="Silhouette of Boroboedoer" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">A SUNRISE SILHOUETTE PHOTOGRAPH OF SOME OF THE HUNDREDS
+OF BELLS OF BUDDHA ON BOROBOEDOER, JAVA.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>She was a beautiful girl and could play a piano as few American women I
+have met. She would have graced any social room in America with her dark
+beauty, her brown eyes, and her Oriental fire. She was rich. Her father
+was worth several millions; being one of many shrewd <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>Chinese business
+men. She was dressed like a Parisian model, in the latest European
+styles. She was in China for the first time in her life. Her father had
+brought her back to marry a Chinese boy. She did not love him. She did
+love my American friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Why will you not marry James?" I asked her.</p>
+
+<p>"My father would kill me," she said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"Does he say so?"</p>
+
+<p>"He does. He went to America a week ago; and the last thing he said was,
+'If you marry anything but a Chinese I will kill you!'"</p>
+
+<p>"Did he really mean it?" I asked her, astonished.</p>
+
+<p>"He meant it more than anything he ever meant in his life. It would be
+considered a disgrace to my entire family if I married anybody but a
+Chinese boy."</p>
+
+<p>"Even though your father married a Scotch woman?" I said.</p>
+
+<p>"For that very reason it is imperative that I marry my own blood," she
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"That is terrible!" I replied catching my first glimpse of the strange
+and terrible social position in which a girl of mixed blood is placed in
+China.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," she said in a quiet, refined voice, with a marked English
+accent, "I have an English education but I have Chinese blood. I can
+never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> be happy marrying a Chinese after I have been educated in
+England. I can never be happy with Chinese clothes, Chinese customs, and
+Chinese people. And yet if I marry the man I love, it will break my
+father's heart. He would kill me to be sure; for if he says he will,
+that means that he will keep his word. But that would not be the worst
+of it. To die would be easy."</p>
+
+<p>"What would be the worst of it?" I asked, my heart stirred with a
+strangely deep sympathy at this beautiful Chinese girl's dilemma.</p>
+
+<p>"The worst thing would be that it would break my father's heart!"</p>
+
+<p>Then she wept.</p>
+
+<p>That was my first glimpse of the life of tragedy through which a
+half-breed woman of the Orient has to go.</p>
+
+<p>I met them in the Philippines, with Spanish and American blood running
+in their veins; I met Malay girls whose fathers had been German or
+English; I met Dyak girls whose fathers had been Dutch; and Javanese
+girls whose fathers had been either American, English or Dutch.</p>
+
+<p>I stayed with such a woman in a home in Borneo. She had been a Dyak
+girl. Yet she did not look it. She had a beautiful home with beautiful
+English speaking children. I met her in the interior of Borneo a hundred
+miles from a single white woman. And yet in this far interior; living<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
+with her English husband who was the head of a mining project; she was
+keeping intact the English education of her children. There was a piano
+and the children played beautifully while the mother, in a rich
+contralto voice sang.</p>
+
+<p>She was graceful, accomplished, beautiful, poised and sweet.</p>
+
+<p>One night as we walked alone under the moonlight the Englishman opened
+his heart to me and said, "You are going to visit the Head-Hunting Dyaks
+to-morrow. You will see their abject squalor and filth. You will be
+surprised when I tell you that my wife was a Dyak girl and that I took
+her out of a Kampong fifteen years ago and took her to England."</p>
+
+<p>"That's a lie!" I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"It is the truth!" he added.</p>
+
+<p>Somehow his statement angered me. I don't know why. Perhaps it was the
+unusual heat of the tropics. We were directly on the Equator. I would
+have fought him for that statement.</p>
+
+<p>But it was true.</p>
+
+<p>"And the hell of it was that when I took her to England she was not
+happy and my people would not receive her. So we have had to come back
+to Borneo and live our lives in this fashion, far from civilization."</p>
+
+<p>He was silent for a few minutes.</p>
+
+<p>"That is the fate of mixing bloods in these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> tropical lands," he said
+with a shudder. "And the woman always suffers more than the man!"</p>
+
+<p>I met another Malay-English girl on the ship going from Singapore to
+Batavia, Java.</p>
+
+<p>She too was an educated, English-speaking girl of a strange beauty and
+fascination. She started to talk with me as I sat alone on the Dutch
+ship. We were the only English-speaking people on board and we felt a
+certain comradeship. We sat an entire evening talking about the problem
+of a girl of mixed blood in the Malay States.</p>
+
+<p>"White men always assume that we are bad girls. They come into the
+offices where we work as stenographers and insult us. It is that taint
+of mixed blood. We have the longings and the ideals of the best blood
+that is in our veins; but the skin and the color and the passions of the
+worst. We try to be good; some of us; but everything is against us. We
+can never marry white men; though we frequently fall in love with them
+for we work side by side with them in the offices. But when it comes to
+marrying us they fear the social ban. It is a terrible thing. There is
+no way out! It is a thing that has been imposed upon us from the
+generations that have gone. We pay!"</p>
+
+<p>I shall never forget her brown eyes, her brown skin, her heaving breast,
+as the great Dutch ship<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> cut the waves of the South China Sea bound for
+Java.</p>
+
+<p>"Why are you leaving a good position and going to Java?" I asked her.</p>
+
+<p>"They say things are better for us girls in Java; that the Dutch are not
+so particular. I shall no doubt be homesick for Singapore but I am going
+to try Java for a while. My sister is there!"</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>A Feminine-Flash light that has its humorous side was one that I
+experienced in Borneo.</p>
+
+<p>We had gone out to a Dyak village to take pictures.</p>
+
+<p>It was a miserably hot morning. That night I stayed in Pontianak which
+is bisected by the Equator. It was so cold in the middle of the night
+that I had to get up and put on a night shirt!</p>
+
+<p>The next day we tramped ten miles through the Jungle to a Head-hunting
+Dyak village.</p>
+
+<p>I had been taking pictures for an hour in this Kampong when six of the
+most beautiful Dyak girls came in, with great Bamboo water tubes flung
+over their gracefully strong shoulders. Their skin looked like that of a
+red banana from toe to chin. They were stark naked save for a girdle
+about their loins. They had been five miles away for water.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>Their skin was flushed with exercise. There they stood, mystified at
+seeing white men in the village Kampong.</p>
+
+<p>In fact they were terrified.</p>
+
+<p>Their big brown eyes bulged out.</p>
+
+<p>Their breasts heaved with fear.</p>
+
+<p>I said to the missionary, "Dyak Madonnas! What a painting they would
+make?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, there are no more beautiful women anywhere. They look like bronze
+statues. A Rodin, or a St. Gaudens would go wild over their limbs and
+bodies."</p>
+
+<p>I asked the missionary to tell them that I wanted to take a picture of
+them just as they were, standing with their water vessels poised on
+their shoulders; in their naked splendor and beauty.</p>
+
+<p>He told them.</p>
+
+<p>They squealed for all the world like American girls and ran for dear
+life, disappearing in the flash of an eye.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to coax them to come out to get a picture taken. The Missionary
+could speak their language but they would only peek through the doors
+with grinning faces.</p>
+
+<p>Finally they agreed that we could take their pictures if I would let
+them put dresses on.</p>
+
+<p>I didn't want to do this; for I wanted them just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> as they were; but saw
+that they were adamant in their souls even if their brown bodies did
+look as soft as ripening mangos; and as beautiful and brown.</p>
+
+<p>I pictured all sorts of ugly dresses; discarded by the white folks and
+given to them. But much to my surprise, when they appeared all dressed
+up for the picture, every last one of them had on a white woman's
+discarded night gown.</p>
+
+<p>I wanted to laugh. It destroyed their picturesqueness but those gowns
+could not destroy their symmetrical beauty of limb and body.</p>
+
+<p>"That's a quick way to dress up!" I said to my missionary friend.</p>
+
+<p>We smiled but I got the picture.</p>
+
+<p>And back of these Flash-lights Feminine; is the black page of the
+history of womankind in all the Far East; with footbinding still rampant
+over nine-tenths of China; baby-killing, baby-selling, and baby-slavery
+which I saw with my own eyes time and time again; with slavery of
+womankind, from Japan down to Ceylon the regular thing. But there is
+still hope in the woman-heart of the Far East; and the hope is the
+American woman and her religion. That and that alone will break down
+prejudices, break off shackles, and tear to bits the traditions of the
+past.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>"The women suffer! Yes, the women always suffer!" said a big fellow to
+me up in the northern part of Luzon in the Philippines one evening.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" I asked him, scenting a story.</p>
+
+<p>Then the man told me of a cholera epidemic that he had passed through;
+of how he had tried to care for the sick, even though he was not a
+physician; told me of their poor superstitious methods of driving away
+the "evil spirits."</p>
+
+<p>He told of how he had gone into homes where he found seven inmates dead
+and four dying; of how he tried to care for them with nothing medicinal
+at hand.</p>
+
+<p>Then he told me of how the poor people went down to a dirty inland river
+and had killed a hog, taken its heart; killed a dog, taken its heart;
+and then after putting them on a little raft, floated them off down the
+river to drive the cholera away. Then he told me of how the natives had,
+in their desperation, tied tight bands about their ankles to keep the
+evil spirits from coming up out of the earth into their bodies.</p>
+
+<p>"But what do you yourself do about a doctor. You say that you are 400
+miles from a doctor, even here. What about your children, when they take
+sick?" I asked him, and then was sorry that I had asked the question
+because of a terribly hurt and unutterably sorrowful look in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>"Mother and I don't like to talk about that or to think about it!" he
+said simply, and I knew that I had torn open an old wound which was just
+over his heart.</p>
+
+<p>His voice broke as he spoke, and he looked at the woman who was his
+brave helpmate and said again: "Mother and I don't like to think about
+that!" The tears ran down over his cheeks and "Mother's" too, and mine
+also.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry! I am sorry if I have opened an old wound!" I said, quite
+helpless to remedy the damage I had done. I felt as one who had
+unwittingly trodden on a flower bed and crushed some violets. They
+bleed, even though you see no blood. I saw that their hearts were
+bleeding. But he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"We were 400 miles from a doctor. Baby took sick. If we could have had a
+doctor she would have been saved."</p>
+
+<p>"Now Daddy, we do not know for certain about that," said the
+ever-conservative woman in her.</p>
+
+<p>"There was not a Filipino doctor. She died in mother's arms!"</p>
+
+<p>It was oppressively silent in that far-off mission home for a few
+minutes. I thought some one would sob aloud. It might have been any one
+of us, the way we all felt. I took hold of my cane chair with a grip
+that numbed my hands for a half hour afterwards.</p>
+
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII<br />
+<small>FLASH-LIGHTS OF FUN</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>All the "Peck's Bad Boys" of the world are not confined to American
+soil.</p>
+
+<p>I found them all over the Far East; especially in China.</p>
+
+<p>I was annexed by one of them who became a sort of a guide de luxe when
+we were going through the ruined Palaces of the romantic regions of
+Peking.</p>
+
+<p>He annexed himself to us in somewhat the same fashion as a thistle or a
+burr annexes itself to you as you walk through the field where thistles
+are thick.</p>
+
+<p>He was an acquired asset of questionable value. With him were a lot of
+followers but it was plain to be seen that he was the leader of the
+gang; which was, for all the world, like a typical street gang in an
+American city.</p>
+
+<p>Who could pass up that group of a dozen little rascals who followed us
+through the ruins of the old Summer Palace? Who could resist their
+imitations of everything one did? I sneezed and the little rascals
+sneezed also. I counted one,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> two, three, four, as I adjusted my Graflex
+for a picture and I heard a chorus of laughing "One, two, three, fours."
+I yelled ahead to an American member of the party and said "Wait!" and a
+dozen boys yelled "Wait!"</p>
+
+<p>We fell in love with the dirty-faced rascals. They looked to be a
+nuisance when we started and I wanted them driven back, but before we
+were through they had become the most interesting part of the whole
+trip. Sure enough we emptied our purses of pennies and some white money.
+The little fellow who was in his bare feet and who said, with a real
+touch of seven year old Chinese humor, "These are leather shoes that I
+have on and they will last all my life," won our hearts. That was humor
+with a vengeance.</p>
+
+<p>This lad was happy. No wonder then that when one of the party passed him
+an extra penny early in the morning he winked knowingly as one who had
+been taken into the inner councils of affection.</p>
+
+<p>And no wonder that he followed the man who gave him that penny to the
+end of the morning, and no wonder when we told him through the
+interpreter that we liked the boys because they were good boys; he said
+in return, "Some boys would have followed you around, pulling your coats
+and being rude and yelling at you."</p>
+
+<p>The nonchalant way in which they admitted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> that they were good boys won
+our hearts and we came back penniless.</p>
+
+<p>Then who can forget the little rascals who smiled and winked back in the
+midst of the dignified Lama ceremonies over at the Lama Temple, proving
+that they were, after all, real human boys with a laugh and the spirit
+of fun in their little souls in spite of their having to take part in
+this dignified chanting service.</p>
+
+<p>It was fun when the service was over to see them tumble out of the
+Temple so fast that one boy fell and about six fell on top of him just
+as American boys do pouring out of school. I even saw one lad whack
+another one on the back of his little bald head and a scuffle ensued.
+They laughed, fought, tumbled pell-mell, got up again grinning, winked
+and laughed back at the good natured Americans for all the world like
+American boys.</p>
+
+<p>The Chinese have a distinct sense of humor and it is very much like that
+which is found in our own America. Indeed the Chinese are like us in
+many respects.</p>
+
+<p>The Filipino enjoys a good joke but his humor is more cruel than is
+American humor.</p>
+
+<p>The Dyak of Borneo has a sense of play and fun that would not exactly
+appeal to an American mind; although there are those who claim that
+American football is a near kin to the delightful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> game of Head-hunting
+indulged in by the Dyaks of Borneo.</p>
+
+<p>The Dyaks have for centuries been known as the head-hunters of the Far
+East. They, in common with the Igorotes of the Philippines, have had the
+playful custom of going out when the mood took them and bringing in a
+few heads just as our Indians used to get scalps. When a Dyak youth
+wanted to marry a nice young Dyak girl to whom he had taken a fancy (and
+I can assure the reader that some of them are as beautiful as Rodin's
+bronze statues), he didn't even dare mention his desire for that young
+bronze beauty until he had brought in five or six heads. After that he
+had some standing in the lady's sight. Without the heads he had no more
+chance of winning either the girl herself or her pa or ma or any of the
+Dyak family than the proverbial snowball has of getting through Borneo
+without melting. It just simply couldn't be done according to Dyak
+etiquette.</p>
+
+<p>Head-hunting was a game between tribes also. When two tribes of Dyaks
+felt a playful mood coming on, they would challenge each other to a
+head-hunting game. The game would last for a week or so and the tribe
+that took the most heads won. It was nothing like "Tag you're it." If
+so, some of the skulls that I have seen at Dyak Compounds would not be
+grinning so hideously these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> days as they ornament the poles of certain
+vain and proud Dyak hunters.</p>
+
+<p>The Battaks of Sumatra also have a playful custom of getting rid of
+their old men. When a man gets so old that they think it is about time
+for him to tell his last tale, they put him up a Cocoanut tree. Then all
+of the young bucks of the village get together and try to shake him
+down. If he is too feeble to hold on, and comes down, that is a sign of
+heaven that his days are through and they cook him and eat him.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>The Japanese claim to have a great sense of humor. Japanese students
+speaking in America, insist that this is true. But travelers in Japan do
+not find it so. Indeed if Japan had a sense of humor, it would keep her
+out of many an international tangle. She does not know how to laugh. Her
+sense of dignity is so exaggerated that she does not know the fine art
+of smiling and laughing at herself.</p>
+
+<p>"What does Japan most need to learn?" a student asked me.</p>
+
+<p>"To laugh," I replied.</p>
+
+<p>"I think that you are right! Your Lincoln knew how to laugh!" was his
+response as he went off thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>I was advertised to speak in a northern college in Japan. The Dean of
+the school wanted to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>advertise me so that the students would all come
+out to hear me. This is the way he did it:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Dr. Stidger is a college student who played with the foot-ball in
+America. He is a man with the bigness of the head! He reaches the
+six feet tall; the four feet around; has an arm like an ox and a
+head like a board!"</p></div>
+
+<p>I was not certain as to just what he meant by many of those references,
+but I was assured that they were intended to be highly complimentary to
+me. I am not yet sure of that but I had a good laugh just the same.</p>
+
+<p>The story is told of a ruthless American humorist Hotel-keeper in
+Singapore who was entertaining a group of Japanese Officers from the
+Japanese Navy. This American had no love for Japan. He also knew of
+their lack of humor; so when the Japanese Captain arrived at the hotel
+the American Manager made quite an extended speech of welcome, as his
+American friends listened, greatly amused.</p>
+
+<p>He said in part: "The hotel is yours! During your stay the entire force
+of servants is at your disposal. If there is anything that you want that
+you do not see, please ask for it."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="bromo" id="bromo"></a>
+<img  src="images/128a.jpg" width="600" height="415" alt="Bromo volcano" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">OLD BROMO VOLCANO, JAVA.</p>
+<p class="captionblockquot">"The way it effervesces Bromo is a fitting name," said the author when
+he saw it in action.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="sideview" id="sideview"></a>
+<img  src="images/128b.jpg" width="600" height="412" alt="View of Boroboedoer" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">A SIDE VIEW OF BEAUTIFUL BOROBOEDOER IN JAVA.</p>
+<p class="captionblockquot">Said by travelers to make the Pyramids look like child's play as a
+tremendous piece of construction; and as a work of art to have no rival
+in the whole world.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="children" id="children"></a>
+<img  src="images/129a.jpg" width="600" height="408" alt="A group of children" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">NAKED AND OTHERWISE.</p>
+<p class="captionblockquot">This curious conglomeration of Mongrel children watching the
+photographer in Borneo where Dyaks, Chinese, Malay and others mix
+indiscriminately.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="dog" id="dog"></a>
+<img  src="images/129b.jpg" width="600" height="408" alt="A group of dogs" />
+<div class="cap-horiz">
+<p class="caption">A DOG MARKET AMONG THE IGGOROTEES OF THE PHILIPPINES.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The Japanese Captain bowed continuously and smiled; sucking in his
+breath with a characteristic national custom; the same sound they made
+as they eat fried eggs in a Japanese dining car; a sound similar to the
+old-fashioned but now <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>obsolete method of drinking coffee from a saucer.</p>
+
+<p>"There is just one request however that we will have to make of you,
+while you are here with us in the hotel," continued the American hotel
+manager.</p>
+
+<p>"And what is that may I ask?" inquired the Japanese Captain, still
+bowing and sucking in air through his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"That you do not climb around in the trees!"</p>
+
+<p>The Japanese officers did not see the joke and did not even smile but
+the Americans in the Far East have laughed over it for years.</p>
+
+<p>Which reminds one of the night on the Sambas River when a hundred little
+monkeys were silhouetted against a crimson sunset.</p>
+
+<p>Red, brown, yellow, golden, blue orchids flashed in the sunlight; and
+flowers of every hue under God's blue skies made brilliant the river
+banks. At times the ship went so close that I could reach out and grab a
+limb of a tree, much to the indignation of the monkeys who chattered at
+me as if I had stolen something. Now and then a big lazy alligator slid
+into the water from the muddy banks as the wave-wash from our propeller
+frightened him.</p>
+
+<p>Coming back down the Sambas River, along its winding, beautiful way we
+sat one evening and watched a crimson sunset from the deck of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> ship.
+At one point in the river there was a row of dead, bare trees. There
+were no leaves on the branches&mdash;only monkeys: big red monkeys, which
+they call "Beroks," and little gray fellows, which they call "Wahwahs."
+These monkeys were strikingly silhouetted against the crimson sunset in
+strange tropical fashion. From the tips of those dead trees down to the
+lowest branches dozens of monkeys stood like sentinels, or romped like
+children, or chattered like magpies. Their long curling tails
+silhouetted below the branches against the light of evening.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>Most Americans who go in and out of Japan get disgusted with the
+regulations that policemen impose upon them.</p>
+
+<p>This is especially true of those Americans living in China who are
+compelled, for business reasons, to go in and out of Japan, for at every
+trip they are required to answer the same list of questions. I traveled
+from Korea into Japan with the Military Attach&eacute; of the Spanish Legation.
+When we landed a Japanese officer who had known him for many years
+insisted upon his answering the usual questions.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been in this country for ten years and yet I never go out or in
+that they do not compel me to go through the same foolish police
+regulations<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> which they have copied from Germany and haven't sense
+enough to give up!" he said indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>I also traveled with a party in which there was a Methodist Bishop's
+wife. This Bishop's wife absolutely refused to give the Japanese
+policeman her age. Not that she had any reason to be ashamed of her age.
+In fact she could easily have passed for twenty years younger than she
+probably was, but she just had the average American woman's spunk and
+refused to give it.</p>
+
+<p>For a few minutes it looked as if diplomatic relations between Japan and
+America might be seriously cracked, if not broken; for the Japanese
+officer had no sense of humor. That is one of the chief defects of the
+Japanese police and military system. It has no sense of humor. It takes
+itself too seriously. It does not know how to laugh.</p>
+
+<p>To the eight or ten Americans in the party the whole matter was a huge
+joke and we admired the spunk of the Bishop's wife, but the poor
+Japanese police officer was facing what he thought was an international
+problem.</p>
+
+<p>Need it be said that the whole matter was finally settled to the entire
+satisfaction; not of the Japanese officer, but to the entire
+satisfaction of the Bishop's wife.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>A friend of mine who happens to be in business in the Orient got so
+tried of being interviewed, trailed, and made to answer innumerable
+questions about his mother, grandmother, etc., that one day on landing
+in Yokohama, in a spirit of fun, he answered the officer's questions in
+this manner:</p>
+
+<p>"How old are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Thirty-six."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you a family?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"How many children?"</p>
+
+<p>"Three."</p>
+
+<p>"How old are they?"</p>
+
+<p>"One is thirty-eight, one forty, and one forty-five."</p>
+
+<p>"What is your occupation?"</p>
+
+<p>"Commander-in-Chief of the Greenland Navy."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing in Japan?"</p>
+
+<p>"Getting a cargo of ice to take back to Greenland."</p>
+
+<p>After satisfying his appetite for information, the Japanese police
+officer departed to make his reports, while the young American went to
+his hotel with a grin all over his face.</p>
+
+<p>While he was eating his dinner that evening suddenly the Japanese
+officer appeared in the dining room with a big smile on his face and
+walked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> over to where the American sat with a group of friends.</p>
+
+<p>As he approached the American's table he said with a grin, "You
+American! I know! You American!"</p>
+
+<p>"How did you guess it, my friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"You make me one tam fool!" he said holding out the report.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>Some of the most laughable things that one sees in the Orient are the
+Japanese signs translated into English by some Japanese merchant who has
+picked up a dash of English here and there.</p>
+
+<p>One such sign which caused a lot of amusement was that of a tailor who
+was trying to cater to American Tourist trade. He had, evidently, also
+had some contact with the spiritual phraseology of the missionaries. He
+had painted on a big sign:</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+"BUY OUR PANCE!<br />
+THEY FIT YOU BETTER AND<br />
+THEY WARM YOUR LEGS LIKE THE<br />
+LOVE OF GOD!"</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the most exhilaratingly humorous thing that the Japanese have
+perpetrated on the Koreans was a list of advices printed and posted all
+over Korea by the Police Department as to the regulation of Fords:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center">RULES!</p>
+
+<p>1. At the rise of hand of policeman, stop rapidly. Do not pass him by or
+otherwise disrespect him.</p>
+
+<p>2. When a passenger of the foot hove in sight, tootle the horn trumpet
+to him melodiously at first. If he still obstacles your passage, tootle
+him with vigor and express by word of the mouth the warning, "hi, hi."</p>
+
+<p>3. Beware of the wandering horse that he shall not take fright as you
+pass him. Do not explode the exhaust box at him. Go soothingly by, or
+stop by the roadside till he gently pass away.</p>
+
+<p>4. Give big space to the festive dog that make sport in the roadway.
+Avoid entanglement of dog with your wheel spokes.</p>
+
+<p>5. Go soothingly on the grease-mud, as there lurk the skid-demon. Press
+the brake of the foot as you roll around the corners to save the
+collapse and tie-up.</p>
+
+<p>6. Number of people you put in the Ford: You put two in the front house
+and three in the back house.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>There were other rules but this list will be sufficient as a Flash-light
+of Fun to give some idea of the ridiculous way in which the average
+Japanese twists the ideas and phraseology of English in the
+translations.</p>
+
+<p>I saw one great sign which brought a smile. It was up on the island of
+Hokkaido. It had printed in large English letters:</p>
+
+<p class="center">"GET YOUR MOTHER'S MILK HERE!"</p>
+
+<p>Below that sentence there was a picture of a cow which looked as much
+like a combination of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> an Elephant and a Camel as anything I know. The
+artist must have been a wonder. Attached to each of the cow's udders
+were long lines of hose that ran for about ten feet across a big
+bill-board. At the end of each line of hose was a nipple, like our
+American baby-nipples. At the end of each nipple there was a man-sized
+baby pulling away at the nipple. It was one of the funniest advertising
+signs I ever saw. I watched several Americans look up at it and every
+one of them laughed aloud. And the funny thing about it was that it was
+intended to be a serious advertising sign.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>At a banquet given in the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo one of the most
+side-splitting incidents happened unintentionally that ever happened at
+any banquet anywhere.</p>
+
+<p>One of the sons of a great Japanese business man was speaking. The
+banquet was in honor of a well-known College President from America who
+had come to take up work in the Orient. This banquet was to welcome him
+officially to Japan.</p>
+
+<p>One of the speakers, sitting beside Mr. Uchida, the Foreign Minister,
+had been a student in America where this man was formerly the college
+president and he was trying to make the crowd see how happy he was to
+welcome the president<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> to Japan. He did it in the following language as
+nearly as I can remember it:</p>
+
+<p>"I feel like a cartoon I see in your peculiar paper&mdash;what you call
+him&mdash;<i>Puck</i>? <i>Judge</i>? No&mdash;he bin in that peculiar paper, <i>Life</i>? That
+was he.</p>
+
+<p>"This picture; he shows two dogs talking to each other.</p>
+
+<p>"One dog he a great, what you call him&mdash;Coolie? Pug? Yes, he was a
+Scottish Coolie. The other was a little wee dog; a Pugnacious Dog, I
+think you call him.</p>
+
+<p>"The little dog he have his tail all done up in the bandages.</p>
+
+<p>"The big dog say, 'Little dog, for why you have your tail all bandaged
+up like that? You have an accident?'</p>
+
+<p>"'No,' say the little dog, 'but my master, he just come home from
+France, and I am so glad to see him I bin wagging my tail all day long
+until it get broke and I have to have him wrapped up like this.'"</p>
+
+<p>Then the speaker turned dramatically&mdash;with the deepest sense of
+seriousness; without a trace of a smile on his face, without a glimmer
+of consciousness of the fact that the Americans at that banquet were
+biting their teeth to keep from bursting into laughter; and with a grand
+flourish, pointed to the American dignitary and said, "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> feel just like
+that little dog. I so glad to see Dr. &mdash;&mdash; come to Japan that I have
+been wagging my tail all day long."</p>
+
+<p>But he got no further. The American crowd; full-dressed, and full of
+dignity as it was; exploded. That speech was too much, even for the sake
+of international courtesy, to expect such a crowd to hold in.
+Fortunately most of the educated Japanese there saw the joke and joined
+in the laugh.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>We had a funny experience in a dining car on a Japanese train coming
+from northern Japan down to Tokyo one evening.</p>
+
+<p>A well-dressed Japanese in a rich Kimono sat drinking heavily at a table
+a few feet from us.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he looked up and yelled "Silence!" looking directly at us.</p>
+
+<p>It was so sudden and so funny that I laughed. This made the Japanese
+gentleman angry.</p>
+
+<p>Then he let forth a more extended English sentence. Later we figured
+that it was the only sentence in English that he knew, and that he had
+learned that sentence by sitting at the feet of some stern, English
+teacher who had occasion to reiterate that sentence frequently.</p>
+
+<p>This drunken Japanese looked at me sternly for laughing and said,
+"Silence! All gentlemen must be silent!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>This was too much for my sense of humor and I laughed again.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence! All gentlemen must be silent!" he yelled a third time.</p>
+
+<p>"We must get away from him; or we'll get into trouble. I can't keep from
+laughing when he repeats that," I said to Dr. Goucher.</p>
+
+<p>We all moved back to another table, but Dr. Goucher sat by himself at a
+little table. This moving, insulted the drunken Japanese and he came
+back to where Dr. Goucher sat and leered into his face yelling once
+again, "All gentlemen must be silent!"</p>
+
+<p>At this one of the party jumped to the side of Dr. Goucher and took the
+Japanese by the shoulder and turned him around and said, "Go! Sit down,
+fool!"</p>
+
+<p>The train was whirling through the night. There were mutterings and
+imprecations among the Japanese and we thought that they were directed
+toward us; but a missionary who could understand the language, said that
+the whole crowd of Japanese was severely reprimanding the drunken
+Japanese for insulting foreigners. They told him in Japanese phrases
+that he ought to be ashamed of insulting foreigners in his own country.</p>
+
+<p>About five minutes after this he suddenly left his seat, came staggering
+down the aisle of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> the car with a plate full of big red apples and
+offered an apple to each one of us as a peace offering.</p>
+
+<p>We got to calling him, in our party "Old Mr. 'All gentlemen must be
+silent!'" and he came to be a real character in our fun.</p>
+
+<p>But one morning a month later as we were all boarding a train in Fusan,
+Korea, bound for Seoul, who should be sitting in the car but "Old Mr.
+'All gentlemen must be silent.'"</p>
+
+<p>This time he was in American clothes. We had a Japanese friend with us.
+We told this friend about the incident on the train in northern Japan
+and asked him who the man was.</p>
+
+<p>"Why that is a member of the House of Lords and he is going up to Korea
+representing the Diet to make a report on the Korean outrages," we were
+told.</p>
+
+<p>Another month passed and I was coming back from Seoul, Korea, to Tokio,
+Japan, when I suddenly ran into our old friend "All gentlemen must be
+silent!" This time he was drunk again, and sitting in a Japanese dining
+car with the same Kimono on that he had worn the first time we saw him.
+He saw me enter the car.</p>
+
+<p>I tried to avoid him, but he was not to let this opportunity for
+international courtesy go by unnoticed and unimproved. So, much to my
+delight and surprise, he arose, and made a low bow.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>I bowed back. He made another bow until his nose almost touched the car.
+I made a return bow. He made a third one. I followed suit. He made a
+fourth. I made a fourth, although I was beginning to feel dizzy and my
+insides were beginning to complain.</p>
+
+<p>I wondered when the thing would stop. I thought of a hundred fat men I
+had seen on a Gymnasium floor trying to do the same thing and touch the
+floor with their hands. I knew that there was a limit to my endurance in
+a test of this kind. He bowed five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten times,
+and I bowed back. I could see things whirling around me.</p>
+
+<p>"Blame it, why doesn't he stop some time!" I said to myself.</p>
+
+<p>I was desperate. Then suddenly I looked at him and he looked at me and
+he said, with great dignity, "All gentlemen must be silent!" and sat
+down, with his friends and his wines.</p>
+
+<p>I don't know whether he realized how funny it was or not. I don't know
+whether he even knew what he was saying in his drunken condition, but I
+do know that when I got out of that car into the vestibule I had the
+laugh of my life. A Japanese woman came by, smiled at me and I am sure
+said to herself:</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, these Americans they are all crazy!"</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>The last Flash-light of Fun is a picture from the Philippines.</p>
+
+<p>I have spoken in the chapter on "Flash-lights of Faith" of the trip to
+the Negrito tribe, but in that chapter I did not speak of the desperate
+adventure of the trip back down the jungle trail to civilization after
+the experience with the old man.</p>
+
+<p>For the second time on that memorable day I dropped in my tracks with a
+sunstroke. My legs refused to move. My muscles were congested with waste
+matter and evidently my brain was also. When I returned to consciousness
+I saw lying beside me Mr. Huddleston, an old missionary who had been in
+the Philippines for many years. Across from, him was a naked Negrito who
+was acting as our guide.</p>
+
+<p>I looked up in a tree above us and saw what I thought was a group of
+monkeys.</p>
+
+<p>"Look at the monkeys!" I said to the missionary.</p>
+
+<p>"There are no monkeys in that tree!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>That made me angry. My mind was affected by the sun to such an extent
+that I had an insane desire to grab the Bolo of the Negrito guide out of
+his belt and run it through the missionary. I made a determined mental
+effort to do so, but my arm would not work. I strove as one strives in a
+dream when he is trying to run away from some imagined danger and his
+feet are tied down.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> If I could have gotten my hands on that bolo I
+would have run it through the missionary without a minute's hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>But my mind was detracted from this thought by two large elephants which
+I suddenly saw running down the path on which we were lying. I yelled
+aloud!</p>
+
+<p>"The elephants! They will trample us man! Look! There they come!" I
+cried pointing up the trail on which we were lying.</p>
+
+<p>"Why you're plumb crazy man! You've missed too many boats! That sun's
+got you! There are no elephants on this trail!"</p>
+
+<p>"But I know elephants when I see them!" I cried and tried to roll out of
+the trail but again found it impossible to make my brain and my muscles
+coordinate. It was a terrible moment to me.</p>
+
+<p>"My God man! Are you crazy! I know elephants when I see them. They're
+right on us now! Help me out of here! I can't move!"</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you there are no elephants and there are no monkeys in these
+islands. I've been here twenty years or more!"</p>
+
+<p>"But I know elephants when I see them!"</p>
+
+<p>But just at that moment a much greater danger confronted us, for I saw
+three tigers leap out of the jungle and start after the two <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>elephants;
+right down the trail toward us. Then I knew that we were as good as
+dead.</p>
+
+<p>I yelled: "Tigers! Tigers! They are running after the elephants! They
+are on top of us!"</p>
+
+<p>The fool of a missionary laughed aloud, as he lay on the trail and said,
+"Plumb crazy! Plumb crazy! Sun's got him! Sun's got him!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sun's got who, fool? The elephants and tigers will kill us in about a
+minute!"</p>
+
+<p>But just then something happened which upset my calculations and made me
+have a feeling that&mdash;after all&mdash;perhaps the old missionary was
+right&mdash;for suddenly those two elephants; being too closely pursued by
+the tigers; nonchalantly flew into the air like two great birds, and
+lighted in the tree over our heads where I thought the monkeys were. If
+those elephants hadn't started to fly; I should still be arguing with
+the missionary; but as it turned out; I shut my fool mouth and decided
+that the missionary was right and that I had "Missed too many boats."</p>
+
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII<br />
+<small>FLASH-LIGHTS OF FREEDOM</small></h2>
+
+<p>"Self-determination!" That phrase has set the whole world on fire!</p>
+
+<p>"Independence!" That word somehow has awakened the Oriental world;
+awakened that mass of humanity as it has never been awakened before.</p>
+
+<p>Korea perhaps has thrilled to this awakening as no other section of the
+Orient or the Near and Far East. India's millions are restless; the
+Filipino is hungry for Independence although he is loyal to the United
+States; but Korea has the matter set in its heart like adamant. This
+determination will never be broken; Korea will never be conquered by
+Japan!</p>
+
+<p>This dream of complete and full independence is buried in the souls of
+the children, as well as in the souls of the brave women, and of the old
+men of Korea.</p>
+
+<p>"It is one of the most thrilling things I have ever seen in the Orient!"
+said a man on the Editorial staff of <i>Millard's Weekly</i>. "It is the most
+significant outcome of the war; Korea's passion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> for independence, and
+the Student Movement in China!"</p>
+
+<p>I said to a business man of California who had traveled all over the
+Orient and who had been sent as part of the Commission that prepared the
+way for the abandonment of the Picture Bride custom, "What is the most
+significant thing you have seen in the Orient?"</p>
+
+<p>"The determination of the Koreans for Self-determination!" was his quick
+reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Will they get it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is inevitable in time!" he responded, and then he added: "Why the
+little rascals; the children, I mean; paint the Korean flags on their
+brown bellies, because the Japanese gendarmes will not allow them to
+display the Korean flag in public!" and he laughed aloud at the memory.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen Korean kiddies with flags painted on their stomachs?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dozens of them. They like to show them to Americans," he said.</p>
+
+<p>A week later I was walking with a Korean missionary and asked him if
+what the business man from California had told me about the children was
+true and he said, "Wait until we find a group of them."</p>
+
+<p>We waited for only a few minutes when we ran into a crowd coming home
+from school. A<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> friendly smile and a low-voiced "Mansei" got attention.</p>
+
+<p>Then we pointed to our own stomachs.</p>
+
+<p>In a flash they caught on to what we wanted and, looking around
+cautiously, each little rascal untied his robe and there, sure enough
+was the flag of his country painted on his stomach.</p>
+
+<p>"That is one of the most thrilling sights I have seen in the Orient!" I
+said with tears in my eyes. "If the children of the land feel that way,
+Korea will never be conquered!"</p>
+
+<p>"The American understands! The American understands!" one of the little
+bright-eyed boys said to the missionary in Korean.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>A missionary was teaching a class of Koreans about Heaven.</p>
+
+<p>A little hand shot up.</p>
+
+<p>The missionary nodded that the child could speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Will there be any Japs in Heaven?"</p>
+
+<p>This was a baffling question; for diplomatic destinies were at stake.
+But missionaries are usually honest, so she said, "Yes, if they are good
+Japs!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then I don't want to go!" said the little eight-year-old Korean with
+emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>Another teacher was telling a class in Geography to draw a map of the
+Orient.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>One Korean child said, "Do we have to put in that little group of
+islands east of the coast of China?"</p>
+
+<p>I met one Korean whom I had known in America. He was educated in the
+American universities. He was in every sense of the word a gentleman and
+an intellectual.</p>
+
+<p>He told me that the older children of his family had taught the
+nine-months-old baby to raise its hands in the air above its head
+whenever the word "Mansei" was spoken.</p>
+
+<p>I got an electrical shock of patriotism the day I saw that tiny child
+lift its little arms above its head when that sacred word was spoken. It
+was like a benediction of freedom!</p>
+
+<p>"This posture of the child is more significant," said Mr. &mdash;&mdash;, "when
+you know that the most cruel method of torture that the Japanese use is
+that of stretching a man, woman or child up by the thumbs to the ceiling
+with his toes just touching the floor."</p>
+
+<p>In that same posture of torture Koreans rise to their toes when they
+give their national cry of "Mansei" for all the world like an American
+student giving his college yell.</p>
+
+<p>"It means life and death to give that cry as you know," said this
+intelligent Korean.</p>
+
+<p>"Then what will your children do when they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> grow a bit older and go out
+on the streets and yell this cry?" I asked this intelligent father.</p>
+
+<p>"Be killed, no doubt, by some ignorant, ruthless Japanese gendarme!" he
+said with finality.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you should not allow them to teach its tiny lips that word!" I
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather my child were dead than to have it forget that cry!"</p>
+
+<p>In this same family one Sunday afternoon a two-year-old child was
+sleeping on a mat. The father and mother were reading some American
+papers sent them by their old college friends in the United States.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly that little two-year-old sat straight up in its mat bed, lifted
+its arms in the air and shouted "Mansei! Mansei! Mansei!" three times
+and then dropped back to sleep as if nothing had happened.</p>
+
+<p>"How did you feel?" I asked my Korean friend.</p>
+
+<p>"It made me cry. I said to my wife 'As long as Korea has babies with
+that in their little souls before they are two years of age, Korea will
+never be assimilated by Japan!'"</p>
+
+<p>The children of Korea look up at the ceiling when a Japanese teacher
+enters a room. They are compelled to have Japanese teachers; even in the
+mission schools. The children refuse to do anything for a Japanese
+teacher.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>One day a Japanese teacher thought that he would break that mood by
+telling a funny story. He told it with skill.</p>
+
+<p>But not a child laughed, although one of them said to her father that
+night, "It was hard not to laugh for it was a very funny story!"</p>
+
+<p>"Who tells you to do these things; you students? Who teaches you to
+treat your Japanese teachers in that manner?" my Korean friend asked his
+six-year-old child.</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody tells us; we just do it ourselves! All the children hate the
+Japanese!" he replied with the wisdom of a grown man.</p>
+
+<p>All over Korea we saw Korean flags cut in walls, carved on stones, and
+against excavations where the sand was impressionable to little fingers
+and sticks. I took many photographs of these unconventional flags.</p>
+
+<p>There is one instance where Korean children went on a strike just at
+Commencement time. It meant that they would not get their diplomas but
+that was just the reason they did it: to show their contempt for
+Japanese diplomas.</p>
+
+<p>Japanese authorities begged them to return to school.</p>
+
+<p>Finally on Commencement Day they decided to return.</p>
+
+<p>Something had happened.</p>
+
+<p>It was a day of rejoicing among the Japanese<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> so they invited a lot of
+Japanese officers to the Commencement exercises.</p>
+
+<p>The diplomas were given, to each boy; the Japanese teachers bowing, and
+smiling in their peculiar way.</p>
+
+<p>Then a thirteen-year-old Korean boy stepped to the front to make the
+address of thanks. He made a beautiful speech of thanks. The Japanese
+teachers were bowing with delight.</p>
+
+<p>But the boy's speech was not finished. He paused toward the end, threw
+back his blouse, lifted his proud head and said, "I have only this one
+thing further to add."</p>
+
+<p>He knew the seriousness of what he was about to do. He knew that it
+would possibly mean death to him and his relatives.</p>
+
+<p>"We want but one thing of you Japanese. You have given us education, and
+you have given us these diplomas. The teachers have been good to us."</p>
+
+<p>Then he reached in his blouse and pulled out a Korean flag. To have one
+in one's possession is a crime in Korea in the judgment of the Japanese.</p>
+
+<p>Waving it above his little head he cried, "Give us back our country! May
+Korea live a thousand years! Mansei! Mansei! Mansei!"</p>
+
+<p>At that signal every boy in that school jumped to his feet, whipped out
+a Korean flag and frantically waved it in the air, weeping and yelling
+in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> wild abandonment to the faith and courage of freedom in their
+hearts!</p>
+
+<p>Then they tore their diplomas up before the horrified and angered
+Japanese teachers.</p>
+
+<p>The result was a great student demonstration for freedom; which was
+broken up by a force of Japanese gendarmes with drawn swords; but not
+before the shooting of many boys and girls; and not before over four
+hundred girls and boys were thrown into prison; some of them never to
+emerge.</p>
+
+<p>In the chapter on "Flash-lights of Faith" I told the story of the
+seventy-five-year-old Korean who unflinchingly faced the Japanese
+gendarmes and admitted that he knew the source from which the
+Independence Movement had come; and knew the signers of the Declaration
+personally; every one of them. This spirit burns in the heart of, not
+only the babies of Korea but also in the souls of the white haired
+stately patriarchs.</p>
+
+<p>One old man who was dumb had his own way of expressing his patriotism
+when "Mansei" was yelled. He always lifted his arms above his head. He
+could not speak but he could yell with his arms!</p>
+
+<p>This placed the Japanese authorities in the ridiculous position of
+arresting a dumb man for yelling "Mansei!"</p>
+
+<p>They tortured him for months. He was told<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> that he would be released if
+he would promise never to lift his hands above his head again.</p>
+
+<p>He could not speak in answer to their demands. They waited.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he caught their meaning. They were trying to frighten him from
+giving vent to his only method of showing his patriotism.</p>
+
+<p>His eyes flashed fire. He leapt to his feet with a contemptuous look at
+his Japanese captors.</p>
+
+<p>Then like flashing piston rods of steel his arms shot into the air above
+his head three times, shouting in their mute patriotism, "Mansei!
+Mansei! Mansei!"</p>
+
+<p>Nor are the women void of this determination for freedom. It beats in
+their brave hearts. It is a great flame in their souls as well as in the
+hearts of the children and men of the peninsula.</p>
+
+<p>"The soul's armor is never set well to heart unless a woman's hand has
+braced it, and it is only when she braces it loosely that the honor of
+manhood fails!" says Robert McKenna in "The Adventure of Life."</p>
+
+<p>If that is a true definition of the strength of honor and the desire for
+freedom then the armor of the Korean men is well set.</p>
+
+<p>Sauci, a young Korean girl was under arrest. She was just a school girl
+and very beautiful; with dark brown eyes; skin the color of a walnut;
+and a form, bred of the grace of her much walking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> race. She had walked
+the innumerable trails of her native land from babyhood and the rhythmic
+swing of her supple body would have made any race, save that of her
+conquerors, reverent with admiration.</p>
+
+<p>Sauci was too much for her Japanese captors.</p>
+
+<p>The Japanese guard struck her across the mouth with a whip.</p>
+
+<p>"That doesn't hurt me. That is the grace of God. I don't hate you for
+that blow!" said Sauci.</p>
+
+<p>This angered the Jap and he struck her again. This stroke left a streak
+of blood across her face.</p>
+
+<p>Sauci said again, "That doesn't hurt me. That is the grace of God. I do
+not hate you for striking me!"</p>
+
+<p>The gendarme was furious. His anger was like that of a beast. He flew at
+her blindly, and struck, struck, struck her woman's body until he was
+exhausted.</p>
+
+<p>A few days later when she was recovering from that brutal beating, a
+high official of the Japanese gendarme force came to see her.</p>
+
+<p>"Sauci," said he to her, recognizing her for an intelligent Korean girl,
+"why do not the Koreans like us?"</p>
+
+<p>She replied, "I had a dream last night here in the cell. That will tell
+you why. In my dream a visitor came to our home and stayed for dinner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
+Then instead of going home, the visitor stayed all night. Then the
+visitor stayed two or three days. Then two or three months. Then two or
+three years. We were surprised but were too polite to say anything.</p>
+
+<p>"But finally the visitor got to telling us how to run our house."</p>
+
+<p>"How?" asked the Japanese official, "Did the visitor tell you how to run
+your house?"</p>
+
+<p>"The visitor," replied Sauci, "told us that he didn't like our wall
+paper. 'I think you had better get new paper!' he said. 'I do not like
+your clothes and your schools. Wear clothes like mine, and have schools
+like mine. I do not like your way of talking. Learn my language!'</p>
+
+<p>"So finally we got tired of our visitor and said, 'Please go home! WE do
+not like you! We do not want you! Please go home!'"</p>
+
+<p>"But what has that to do with us?" said the Japanese official.</p>
+
+<p>"Why in a few days the visitor in my dream went home!" said Sauci
+simply. "And in a few years the Japanese will go back home also!" Such
+is the courageous spirit of the Korean women.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>One day an American friend of mine had gone to the Police Station with a
+young Korean girl who had been summoned to appear on what was called a
+"rearrest charge."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>For the Japanese feel perfectly free to rearrest a person even after
+that person has been proven innocent of a charge. A Korean may be
+rearrested any time. He can never feel free.</p>
+
+<p>This young, educated girl had been subjected to such indignities on her
+previous arrest as I would not be able to describe in this book; so she
+begged the woman friend to go with her.</p>
+
+<p>As she entered the station a rough, ignorant Japanese officer snarled at
+her as she passed, "Hello! Are you here again? I thought you were still
+in prison!"</p>
+
+<p>When he had gone from the room the Korean girl said to the American
+woman, "That man beat me for ten hours one day the last time I was in
+prison!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why did he beat you?" asked the missionary.</p>
+
+<p>"He was trying to compel me to give him the names of those girls who
+belonged to the 'Woman's League'."</p>
+
+<p>"And you would not tell him their names?"</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather have been beaten to death than give him their names!"</p>
+
+<p>"Thank God for your courage!" said the missionary, for she had seen the
+girl's body when she had gotten out of prison; the burns of cigarette
+stumps all over her beautiful skin; the scars, the whip marks; the
+desecrations.</p>
+
+<p>When I was told this story, amid the tears of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> the narrator, an American
+college woman, she concluded with fire in her soul: "I have never seen
+such courage on the part of women in all my life! Even mere girls and
+children have it. Most of those who are arrested come out of our
+American Missionary schools. There isn't a one of them who doesn't have
+in her soul the spirit of Joan of Arc. If France had one Joan of Arc,
+Korea has ten thousand!"</p>
+
+<p>One young girl of whom I heard was kept in prison under constant torture
+for six months. And a cruel imprisonment it is. I visited this prison
+myself one winter day when I was in Korea. The thermometer was at zero;
+the snow covered the ground, and there wasn't a fire in a single room in
+that prison save where the Japanese guards were staying, and they were
+huddled around a roaring coal stove.</p>
+
+<p>And this is the show prison of the whole Peninsula. The Japanese take
+visitors through it. But to an American even it is fit only for the
+darkness of the Middle Ages.</p>
+
+<p>In its limited quarters I saw ten and fifteen young girls, sweet faced,
+cultured, educated school girls, huddled together in narrow rooms,
+without a single chair, so closely packed that they were seated on the
+floor like bees in a hive.</p>
+
+<p>After six months of this awful life the girl of whom I speak was about
+to be released.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>The guard questioned her. "Now what are you going to do?"</p>
+
+<p>Her answer came, quick as a shot, although she knew that it would send
+her back to the hell from which she was about to be released.</p>
+
+<p>"It is either liberty for Korea or we die!" she said.</p>
+
+<p>And in three minutes, beaten, and dragged on the ground by the hair she
+was thrown into the cell from which she had been taken; to rot and die
+as far as the Japanese were concerned.</p>
+
+<p>Another girl who had been kept in jail 135 days without even a charge
+having been preferred against her was released. Her old mother came to
+meet her and while in Seoul the mother attended an Independence Meeting
+for women. The whole crowd of women then went to the Police Station and
+shouted "Mansei"!</p>
+
+<p>The mother was arrested and cruelly beaten in spite of her seventy-five
+years of age.</p>
+
+<p>When they were through beating her they said, "Now will you refrain from
+yelling, 'Mansei!'"</p>
+
+<p>"Never!" said this old woman.</p>
+
+<p>Then they took a bar of iron and beat her over the legs until she
+dropped.</p>
+
+<p>"Now will you refrain from yelling 'Mansei?'"</p>
+
+<p>The old woman was weak, but in a low, painful whisper said, "The next
+time the women come to yell, if I am able to walk I will be with them!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>Another old woman was brought to prison for yelling "Mansei!" When they
+asked her why she yelled "Mansei" she answered in a sentence that sums
+up the entire spirit that is in the woman-heart of Korea.</p>
+
+<p>"I have only one word in my head and that is 'Mansei!'"</p>
+
+<p>I personally, one day in Korea, saw the Japanese gendarmes come for a
+Korean girl. She was one of the most popular girls in the American
+Methodist Missionary School.</p>
+
+<p>It was the common custom for Japanese officials to come and take Korean
+girls out of these schools, without warning, without warrants, without
+words, and carry them off to prison.</p>
+
+<p>Often the girl was not even permitted to say good-by to her American
+teachers or to write a word to her parents.</p>
+
+<p>"They are not even permitted to supply themselves with toilet articles,"
+said the matron to me that day.</p>
+
+<p>On this day, six big, brutal, ugly faced, animal-like Japanese officers
+came for this beautiful girl.</p>
+
+<p>The missionary women wept as the girl was dragged away. The girl waved
+good-by.</p>
+
+<p>It was a sight never to be forgotten; one of those Flash-lights of
+Freedom, which burned its way into my soul with the hot acid of
+indignation. This injustice and indecency in the treatment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> of a pure
+girl made my blood run hot in my veins.</p>
+
+<p>The look on her face I shall never forget. It was such a look as the
+martyrs of old must have had when they died for their faith.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-by! Good-by! Give my love to Mary and Elizabeth!" she cried to the
+missionary woman standing by, helpless to assist her. These two names
+were children of the missionary home; children whom this Korean girl had
+learned to love as she lived in this American home.</p>
+
+<p>"And the awful thing about it all, is," said the missionary to me as
+they took the girl away, "that, as pure as that girl is, as pure as a
+flower, she will be taken to a prison fifty miles from Seoul, kept there
+under torture for six months, and she will not be allowed to see her
+friends. They will not even allow us to visit her. She may be undressed
+and spat upon by men who are lower than animals. She may suffer even
+worse than that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Then the American missionary woman fainted.</p>
+
+<p>That flash-light may be duplicated a hundred times in Korea.</p>
+
+<p>"The woman of Korea suffers as much as the man. But thank God they do
+not flinch!" said an American missionary.</p>
+
+<p>The Japanese Gendarmes have forbidden the singing of several of the
+great church hymns in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> mission churches because they insist that these
+are hymns of Freedom; that they foment what the Japanese call "Dangerous
+Ideas." Japanese spies have reported certain Seoul Methodist churches
+for singing hymns that, to their way of thinking, were directed against
+the Japanese Government. This particular illustration of the peculiar
+workings of the Japanese mind might have been included in the chapter on
+Flash-lights of Fun; were it not for the fact that the Japanese officers
+themselves call these old church hymns "Hymns of Freedom."</p>
+
+<p>The Japanese are just as much afraid of these "Dangerous Thoughts" in
+Japan as they are in Korea. A good illustration of this fear is the fact
+that a certain picture corporation of America called "The Liberty Film
+Company" sent several films to Japan. The Government would not allow
+these pictures to be shown until that word "Liberty" was cut from the
+film.</p>
+
+<p>Certain Japanese spies reported a Mission church in Seoul for singing
+"Rock of Ages."</p>
+
+<p>"But why may we not sing 'Rock of Ages'?" asked the American preacher in
+charge.</p>
+
+<p>"Because it starts off with 'Mansei!'" replied the officer.</p>
+
+<p>He interpreted the thought of "Rock of Ages" to be a direct imputation
+that the Japanese Government was not able to take care of the Koreans<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
+and that they were flying to some other protecting power.</p>
+
+<p>"It would be funny if it were not so serious!" said a missionary to me
+one day in Seoul.</p>
+
+<p>Later they stopped the churches from singing "Nearer My God to Thee,"
+because there seemed to be an implication in that, that those who sang
+that hymn, were swearing allegiance to a higher power than that of
+Japan.</p>
+
+<p>"Ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous!" I said in disgust.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ridiculous, but serious," replied the missionary, "when you have
+to live with it year in and year out."</p>
+
+<p>"Crown Him Lord of All," insisted the Japanese spies, when they
+seriously reported a certain church for singing that old hymn was
+"Dangerous Thought." It seemed to this ignorant spy that "Crowning Him"
+was putting some other power before that of the Japanese Government.</p>
+
+<p>"All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name" has been put under the ban and when
+a certain missionary woman was asked to sing at the Korean Y.M.C.A. and
+announced that she was going to sing "Oh, Rest in the Lord" she was
+advised not to sing it because it was considered by the gendarmes to be
+"Dangerous Thought" and to suggest "Liberty," "Freedom" and such
+dangerous words and ideas.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>When one Protestant preacher prayed about "Casting Out Devils" he was
+reported by Japanese spies, who insisted that he was talking about
+Japanese in Korea and meant that these should be cast out of the land.</p>
+
+<p>"'It is to laugh!' as the French say!" I responded to this story.</p>
+
+<p>"No! It is to weep!" said the American missionary.</p>
+
+<p>When Dr. Frank W. Schoefield spoke against Prostitution the Japanese
+papers declared that he had made a virulent attack on the Government.</p>
+
+<p>One Korean preacher who preached on a theme from Luke 4:18, which reads
+"Setting the captives free," was arrested and kept in jail for four
+days.</p>
+
+<p>"It is very foolish to yell 'Mansei' when you know you will be killed,"
+I said to a Korean preacher. I wanted to see how he would take that
+suggestion.</p>
+
+<p>"We Koreans would rather be under the ground than on top of it if we do
+not get our liberty!" he said with a thrill in his quiet voice.</p>
+
+<p>One day a Korean preacher was arrested for preaching on the theme, "Seek
+ye first the Kingdom of God and all these things shall be added unto
+you," because that was, without doubt, disloyal to Japan and meant
+rebellion.</p>
+
+<p>Another day a speaker in the Y.M.C.A. said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> "Arise and let us build for
+the new age!" He was asked to report to Police Headquarters just what he
+meant by that kind of "Dangerous" talk about Freedom.</p>
+
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX<br />
+<small>FLASH-LIGHTS OF FAILURE</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Three great Flash-lights of Failure stand out in the Far East and the
+Oriental world to-day; one being the failure of a race to survive,
+another being the failure of the world to understand that Shantung is
+the Holy Land and not the appendix of China; this sacred shrine of the
+Chinese which has so carelessly and listlessly been given over to Japan;
+and the third being Japan's failure to understand that methods of
+barbarism from the Dark Ages will not work in a modern civilization.</p>
+
+<p>"Why are they making all this fuss over Shantung?" an acquaintance of
+mine said to me just before I left America. "Isn't it just a sort of an
+appendix of China, after all? If I were the Chinese, I'd forget Shantung
+and go on to centralize and develop what I had."</p>
+
+<p>That was glibly said, but the fact which the statement leaves out of
+reckoning is that Shantung is the very heart and soul of China instead
+of being the appendix.</p>
+
+<p>The average American has so often thought of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> China just as China; a
+great, big, indefinite, far-off nation of four hundred million people,
+always stated in round numbers, that Shantung doesn't mean much to us.
+Yes, but it means much to China.</p>
+
+<p>It means about the same as if some nation should come along and take New
+England from us; New England, the seat of all our most sacred history,
+the beginning of our national life, the oldest of our traditions, the
+burial-place of our early founders, the seat of our religious genesis. I
+don't believe that many folks in New England would desire to be called
+an appendix of the United States.</p>
+
+<p>So one of the things that I was determined to do when I went to China
+was to go from one end of Shantung to the other, talking with coolies,
+officials, old men and young men, students, and those who can neither
+read nor write; missionaries and soldiers; natives and foreigners; to
+see just what importance Shantung is to China as a whole.</p>
+
+<p>The first thing I discovered was that it has about forty million people
+living within the limits of the peninsula, close to half the population
+of the United States. Does that sound as if it might be China's
+appendix? You wouldn't think so if you saw the cities, roads and fields
+of this great stretch of land literally swarming with human<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> beings, and
+every last one of them, as busy as ants.</p>
+
+<p>I rode one whole day across the peninsula. I happened to be traveling
+with a man from Kansas. He was a man interested in farming and
+wheat-growing. For hundreds of miles we had been passing through land
+that was absolutely level and every inch of it cultivated. I had been
+saying to myself over and over again, "Why, it's exactly like our Middle
+West Country."</p>
+
+<p>Then much to my astonishment this Kansas man turned to me, and said,
+"Did it ever occur to you that these fields of Shantung look just like
+Kansas?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it has just occurred to me this minute," I responded.</p>
+
+<p>Then the wife of the Kansas man said, "I have been shutting my eyes and
+trying to imagine that I was in Kansas, it's so much like home."</p>
+
+<p>"And say, man, but a tractor on those fields would work wonders," added
+a portion of William Allen White's reading constituency.</p>
+
+<p>And that is exactly how Shantung strikes an American when he has ridden
+all day through its great stretches of level fields. He can easily
+imagine himself riding through Kansas for a day.</p>
+
+<p>My first visit to Shantung was at Tsingtao, the headquarters of the
+German concession and now of the Japanese concession. I spent a day
+there,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> and took photographs of the wharves and town. On the wharves
+were still standing hundreds of boxes marked with German names and the
+inevitable phrase "Made in Germany." Those boxes were mute reminders of
+the evacuation of one nation from a foreign soil. But standing side by
+side with these boxes were also other hundreds, already being shot into
+Shantung in a steady stream; and these boxes have a new trademark
+printed in every case in English and Japanese, "Made in Japan."</p>
+
+<p>I spent several days in Tsinanfu and Tientsin, two great inland cities,
+and more than a week in cruising about through Shantung's little towns,
+its villages and its sacred spots.</p>
+
+<p>I heard of its mines and of its physical wealth. But the world already
+knows of that. The world already knows that this physical wealth of
+mines and raw material was what made it look good to Germany and Japan.
+But the thing that impressed me was its spiritual wealth.</p>
+
+<p>The thing that makes Shantung attractive to the Japanese, of course, is
+not the spiritual wealth, as the world well knows. Perhaps the Japanese
+have never considered the latter any more than the Germans did; but the
+one thing that makes it most sacred to the Chinese, who are, after all,
+a race of idealists, is its treasuries of spiritual memories and
+shrines.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>In the first place, many Chinese will tell you that it is the "cradle of
+the Chinese race." I am not sure that histories will confirm this
+statement. And I am also not sure that that makes any difference as long
+as the idea is buried in the heart of the Chinese people. A tradition
+often means as much to a race as a fact. And the tradition certainly is
+well established that Shantung is the birthplace of all Chinese history.
+So that is one of the deeply rooted spiritual facts that makes Shantung
+sacred to the Chinese.</p>
+
+<p>The second spiritual gold mine is that one of its cities, Chufu, is the
+birthplace and the last resting-place of the sage Confucius. And China
+is literally impregnated with Confusian philosophy and Confucian
+sayings.</p>
+
+<p>I took a trip to this shrine in order to catch some of the spiritual
+atmosphere of the Shantung loss. The trip made it necessary to tramp
+about fifteen miles coming and going through as dusty a desert as I ever
+saw, but that was a trifle compared with the thrill that I had as I
+stood at last before the little mound about as high as a California
+bungalow; the mound that held the dust of this great Chinese sage.
+During the war I stood before the grave of Napoleon in France. Before I
+went to France I visited Grant's tomb. I have also stood many times
+beside a little mound in West Virginia, the resting-place of my mother,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
+and I think that I know something of the sacredness of such experiences
+to a human heart, but somehow the thrill that came to me on that January
+morning, warm with sunlight, spicy with winter cold, produced a feeling
+too deep for mere printed words to convey.</p>
+
+<p>"If we feel as we do standing here on this sacred spot, think of how the
+Chinese feel toward their own sage!" said an old missionary of the
+party.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," added another, "and remember that the Chinese revere their
+ancestors and their sages and their shrines more than we ever dream of
+doing. Any grave is a sacred spot to them, so much so that railroads
+have to run their trunk lines for miles in a detour to avoid graves.
+These Chinese are idealists of the first water. They live in the past,
+and they dream of the future."</p>
+
+<p>"When you get these facts into your American heads," added a third
+member of the party, not without some bitterness, "then you will begin
+to know that the Chinese do not estimate the loss of Shantung in terms
+of mineral wealth."</p>
+
+<p>At Chufu, the resting-place of Confucius, there is also the spot of his
+birth, and this too is most sacred to the Chinese nation. We visited
+both places. I think that I never before quite realized just what the
+loss of Shantung meant to these Chinese until that day, unless it was
+the next day,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> when we climbed the sacred mountain Taishan, which is
+also in Shantung.</p>
+
+<p>"It is the oldest worshiping-place in the world," said the historian of
+the party. "There is no other spot on earth where continuous worship has
+gone on so long. Here for more than twenty centuries before Christ was
+born men and women were worshiping. Emperors from the oldest history of
+China down to the present time have all visited this mountain to
+worship. Confucius himself climbed the more than six thousand steps to
+worship here."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said another missionary historian, "and this mountain is referred
+to twelve separate times in the Chinese classics, and great pilgrimages
+were made here as long ago as two centuries before Christ."</p>
+
+<p>That day we climbed the mountain up more than six thousand stone steps,
+which are in perfect condition and which were engineered thousands of
+years ago by early worshipers.</p>
+
+<p>The only climb with which I can compare that of Mt. Taishan is that of
+Mt. Tamalpais overlooking San Francisco. The climb is about equal to
+that. The mountain itself is about a mile in height, and the climb is a
+hard one to those who are unaccustomed to mountain-climbing, and yet
+thousands upon thousands climb it every year after pilgrimages from all
+over China.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>We climbed to the top of Taishan, and saw the "No-Character Stone"
+erected by Emperor Chin, he who tried to drive learning out of China
+hundreds of years ago. We saw the spot on which Confucius stood, and
+glimpsed the Pacific Ocean, ninety miles away, on a clear day. It was a
+hard climb; but, when one stood on the top of this, the most sacred
+mountain of all China, he began to understand the spiritual loss that is
+China's when her worshiping-place is in the hands of aliens.</p>
+
+<p>"And don't forget that Mencius, the first disciple of Confucius, was
+born and died in Shantung, too, when you are taking census of the
+spiritual values of Shantung to the Chinese," was a word of caution from
+the old missionary who was checking up on my facts for me. He had been
+laboring in China for a quarter of a century.</p>
+
+<p>"And don't forget that the Boxer uprising originated in Shantung, and
+don't forget that it is called, and has been for centuries, 'the Sacred
+Province' by the Chinese. It is their 'Holy Land.' And don't forget
+that, from Shantung, coolies went to South Africa in the early part of
+this century and that the Chinese from Shantung were the first to get in
+touch with the western world. And don't forget that nine-tenths of the
+coolies who went to help in the war in France were from Shantung!" he
+added with emphasis. This was a thing that I well knew, for I had, only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>
+a few weeks before this, seen two thousand coolies unloaded from the
+<i>Empress of Asia</i> at Tsingtao.</p>
+
+<p>No, Shantung is not an appendix of China, as many Americans suppose; but
+it is the very heart and soul of China. It is China's "Holy Land." It is
+the "Cradle of China." It is the "Sacred Province of China." It is the
+shrine of her greatest sage. It is the home of "the oldest
+worshiping-place on earth." It is because of its spiritual values that
+China is unhappy about the loss of Shantung, and not because of its
+wealth of material things.</p>
+
+<p>The failure of the world to understand what Shantung means to China and
+the failure of Japan to understand that they cannot for many years stand
+out against the indignation of the entire world in continuing to keep
+Shantung is one of the great spiritual failures of the Far East in our
+century.</p>
+
+<p>The second great failure is the tragic failure of an entire race of
+people; that of the Ainu Indians of Japan.</p>
+
+<p>It is a pathetic thing to see a human race dying out; coming to "The End
+of the Trail." But I was determined to see them, in spite of the fact
+that people told me I would have to travel from one end of Japan to the
+other; and then cross four hours of sea before I got to Hokkaido, the
+most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> northern island of Japan, where lived the tattered remnants of
+this once noble race.</p>
+
+<p>The name of this dying race is pronounced as if it were spelled I-new
+with a long I.</p>
+
+<p>These are the people who inhabited Japan before the present Japanese
+entered the land from Korea and drove them, inch by inch, back and north
+and west across Japan. It was a stubborn fight, and it has lasted many
+centuries; but to-day they have been driven up on the island of
+Hokkaido, that northern frontier of Japan where the overflow of Japan is
+pouring at the rate of four thousand a year, making two million to date
+and only about fifty thousand of them Ainus.</p>
+
+<p>"Are they like our American Indians in looks, since their history is so
+much like them?" I asked my missionary friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait until you see them, and decide for yourself. I know very little
+about American Indians."</p>
+
+<p>So one morning at three o'clock, after traveling for two days and nights
+from one end of Japan to the other, and then crossing a strait between
+the Japan Sea and the Pacific Ocean to the island, we climbed from our
+train, and landed in a little country railroad station.</p>
+
+<p>It was blowing a blizzard, and the snow crashed into our faces with
+stinging, whip-like snaps.</p>
+
+<p>I was appointed stoker for the small stove in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> the station while the
+rest of the party tried to sleep on the benches arranged in a circle,
+huddled as close as they could get to the stove.</p>
+
+<p>We were the first party of foreigners of this size that had ever honored
+the village with a visit. And in addition to that we had come at an
+unearthly hour.</p>
+
+<p>Who but a group of insane foreigners would drop into a town at three
+o'clock in the morning with a blizzard blowing? Either we were insane,
+or we had some sinister motives. Perhaps we were making maps of the
+seacoast.</p>
+
+<p>And before daylight half of the town was peeking in through the windows
+at us. Then the policemen came. They were Japanese policemen, and did
+not take any chances on us. Even after our interpreter had told them
+that we were a group of scientists who had come to visit the Ainus they
+still followed us around most of the morning, keeping polite track of
+our movements.</p>
+
+<p>About five o'clock that morning, as I was trying to catch a cat-nap, the
+newsboys of the village came to get the morning papers which had come in
+on the train on which we had arrived. They unbundled the papers in the
+cold station; their breath forming clouds of vapor; laughing and joking
+as they unrolled, folded and counted the papers; and arranged their
+routes for morning delivery.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>It took me back to boyhood days down in West Virginia. I did the same
+thing as these Japanese boys were doing. I, too, arose before daylight,
+climbed out of bed, and went whistling through the dark streets to the
+station where the early morning trains dumped off the papers from the
+city. I, too, along with several other American boys of a winter
+morning, breathed clouds of vapor into the air, stamped my feet to keep
+them warm, and whipped my hands against my sides. I, too, unwrapped the
+big bundles of papers, and did it in the same way in which these
+Japanese boys did, by smashing the tightly bound wrappers on the floor
+until they burst. I, too, counted, folded, put in inserts, arranged my
+paper-route and darted out into the frosty air with the snow crunching
+under my feet. How universal some things are. The only difference was
+that these boys were dressed in a sort of buccaneer uniform. They had on
+high leather boots, and belts around their coats that made them look as
+if they had stepped out of a Richard Harding Davis novel. But otherwise
+they went through the same processes as an American boy in a small town.</p>
+
+<p>When the vanguard of villagers had come to inspect us, they at first
+tried to talk Russian to us. They had never seen any other kind of
+foreigners.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> They had never seen Americans in this far-off island.</p>
+
+<p>When daylight came, we started out on a long tramp to the Ainu villages.
+They were a mile or two away on the ocean. These people always build
+near the sea if they can. Fishing is one of their main sources of food.</p>
+
+<p>We spent the day in their huts. They live like animals. A big, square
+hut covered with rice straw and thatch, with a fence of the same kind of
+straw running around the house, forms the residence. The only fire is in
+the middle of the only room, and this consists of a pile of wood burning
+on a flat stone or piece of metal in the center. There is no chimney in
+the roof, and not even an opening such as the American Indians had in
+the tops of their tepees. I do not know how they live. The smoke finds
+its way gradually through cracks in the walls and roofs. One can hardly
+find a single Ainu whose eyes are not ruined. The smoke has done this
+damage.</p>
+
+<p>The only opening in their houses besides the door is one north window,
+and it is never closed. In fact, there is no window. It is only an
+opening.</p>
+
+<p>"Why is that? I'd think they would freeze on a day like this," I said to
+the guide.</p>
+
+<p>"They keep it that way all winter, and it gets a good deal below zero
+here," he said.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>"But why do they do it?" old Shylock demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"It is part of their religion. They believe that the god comes in that
+window. They want it open, so that he can come in whenever he wishes. It
+offends them greatly when you stick your head through that window."</p>
+
+<p>Pat tried it just to see what would happen, just like a man who looks
+into the barrel of a gun, or a man who takes a watch apart, or wants to
+hit a "dud" with a hammer just to see whether it is a dud. The result
+was bad. There was a sudden series of outlandish yells from the
+household. I think that every man, woman and child, including the dogs,
+of which there were many, started at once. I wonder now how Pat escaped
+alive, and only under the assumption that "the good die young" can I
+explain his escape.</p>
+
+<p>I wanted some arrows to take to America as souvenirs; and, when an old
+Indian pulled out a lot of metal arrows on long bows with which he had
+killed more than a hundred bears, I was not satisfied. They were not the
+kind of arrows I wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"What kind are you looking for?" I was asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Flint arrow-heads," I responded.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, man, these Indians have known the use of metals for five hundred
+years. The stone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> age with them is half a thousand years in the past."</p>
+
+<p>"Have they a history?" I wanted to know.</p>
+
+<p>My interpreter, who has much knowledge of these things, having worked
+among them for years, said, "All of the Japanese mythology is centered
+about the battles that took place when these Indians were driven out of
+Japan proper step by step."</p>
+
+<p>I was surprised to find that they were white people compared with the
+Japanese who were their conquerors. There are other marked differences.
+The Ainus are broad between the eyes instead of narrow as are the
+Japanese. They are rather square-headed like Americans as compared with
+the oval of the Japanese face. They do not have markedly slant eyes, and
+they are white-skinned. They might feel at home in any place in America.
+I have seen many old men at home who look like them, old men with
+beards. This came as a distinct surprise to me.</p>
+
+<p>At each house, just in front of the ever-open window of which I have
+spoken, there is a little crude shrine. It is more like a small fence
+than anything that I know, a most crude affair made of broken bamboo
+poles. Flowers and vines are planted here to beautify this shrine, and
+every pole has a bear-skull on it. The more bear-skulls<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> you have, the
+safer you are and the more religious you have become.</p>
+
+<p>Pat was sacrilegious enough to steal a skull in order to get the teeth,
+which he wanted as souvenirs. I was chagrined and shocked at Pat's lack
+of religious propriety. However, I was enticed into accepting one of the
+teeth after Pat had knocked them out and stolen them.</p>
+
+<p>"How do they worship bears and kill them at the same time?" I queried
+the guide.</p>
+
+<p>"That's a part of the worship. They kill the bear, slowly singing and
+chanting as they kill him. They think that the spirit of every bear that
+they kill comes into their own souls. That's why they kill so many. That
+seventy-year-old rascal over there has killed a hundred. He is a great
+man in his tribe."</p>
+
+<p>"If I was a bear," commented Pat, "I'd rather they wouldn't worship me.
+That's a funny way to show reverence to a god. I'd rather be their devil
+and live than be their god and die." Pat is sometimes loquacious. "They
+dance about the poor old bear as they kill him. One fellow will hurl an
+arrow into his side, and then cry out, 'O spirit of the great bear-god,
+come enter into me, and make me strong and brave like you! Come, take up
+thine abode in my house! Come, be a part of me! Let thy strength and thy
+courage be my strength and my courage!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>"</p>
+
+<p>"Then," said the interpreter, "he hurls another arrow into him."</p>
+
+<p>"And what is Mr. Bear doing all that time?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Bear is helpless. He is captured first in a trap, and then kept and
+fattened for the killing. He is tied to a tree during the killing
+ceremony."</p>
+
+<p>"All I gotta say is that they're darned poor sports," said Flintlock
+with indignation. "They're poor sports not to give Mr. Bear a fighting
+chance."</p>
+
+<p>And old Flintlock has voiced the sentiments of the entire party.</p>
+
+<p>Everybody that was at the Panama Pacific International Exposition will
+remember the magnificent statue of an Indian there. This Indian was
+riding a horse, and both were worn out and drooping. A spear which
+dragged on the ground in front of the pony was further evidence of the
+weariness of the horse and rider. The title of this Fraser bronze was
+"The End of the Trail," and it was intended to tell the story of a
+vanishing race, the American Indians. But even more could that picture
+tell the story of the Ainus of Japan.</p>
+
+<p>"They will be entirely extinct in a quarter of a century," our guide
+said. "They are going fast. They used to be vigorous and militant, as
+Japanese mythology shows. They were a fighting race. They built their
+houses by the sea. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> used to go out for miles to fish, but now they
+are so petered out that they go only to the mouths of the rivers to
+fish. They used to hunt in the mountains, but they do not take
+hunting-trips any more. Venereal diseases and rum (saki) have depleted
+them year by year, just as in the case of our American Indians. They are
+largely sterile now. They used to build their own boats, but they build
+no more. It is a biological old age. Their day is through."</p>
+
+<p>"It is a sad thing to see a race dying out," said Pat.</p>
+
+<p>"Especially a white race, as these Ainus seem to be," said another
+member of the party.</p>
+
+<p>And back to the village we went silently, plodding through a driving
+blizzard that bore in upon us with terrific force. As we fought our way
+through this blizzard, I could not help feeling a great sense of
+depression. It is a fearful thing to see anything die, especially a race
+of human beings. That is a great epic tragedy worthy of a Shakespeare.
+That is enough to wring the soul of the gods. That a race has played the
+game, has been powerful and conquering and triumphant, and then step by
+step has petered out and become weak and senile until biological decay
+has set in&mdash;that is fearful.</p>
+
+<p>Another illustration of the ignominious failure of a lower type of mind
+to understand a higher<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> type of mind is set forth in the following
+letter which was written at my request by a missionary whom I met in San
+Francisco just as the final chapters of this book were being written.</p>
+
+<p>The first time I met this missionary was in Seoul, Korea.</p>
+
+<p>I have been told so many times that the cruelties in Korea have been
+stopped. Certain men said that they had been stopped immediately after
+the Independence Movement, but they were not stopped. At frequent
+intervals the American press is flooded with statements which come from
+Japanese press sources that the outrages in Korea have ceased.</p>
+
+<p>I said to this missionary, who had just arrived from Korea, "Is it true
+that the cruelties have stopped in Korea?"</p>
+
+<p>"No! They have not stopped! They have not even diminished! They are
+getting worse, rather than better!"</p>
+
+<p>"Would you be willing to write out, in your own handwriting, a few
+things that you know yourself which have occurred since I was in Korea
+so that the book which I am writing may be accurate and up to date in
+its facts?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will be glad to do that for you! We who are missionaries dare not
+speak the truth!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>"If we did the Japanese Government would never let us get back to our
+people!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then you may talk through me, if you are willing to do it. I want the
+truth to get to the American people!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not only willing but I am eager to talk!" said this missionary and
+wrote out the following story of cruelty against an educated and
+cultured Korean, who was the Religious and Educational Director in the
+Seoul Y.M.C.A. This story of the latest Japanese barbarisms I pass on to
+the reader in this chapter to illustrate another ignominious Hun failure
+to understand that the practices of the Dark Ages will not work in this
+century:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"On May 26th, 1920, just as Mr. Choi was coming out of his class
+room he was met by two detectives, one Korean and one Japanese, who
+informed him that he was wanted at the Central Police Station. Here
+he was turned over to the Chief of Police and thrown into a room
+and kept all day. Mr. Brockman and Cynn both made several attempts
+to find out why he was arrested. Each time they were given an
+evasive answer. Finally Mr. Cynn insisted that they tell him the
+cause of the arrest. It was finally discovered that he was wanted
+in Pyengyang on certain charges. He was to leave Seoul that evening
+on the 11 p.m. train. Anxious to see how Mr. Choi was being
+treated, Mr. Cynn and several of the Y.M.C.A. men went down to the
+station. Mr. Choi with the other six students were standing on the
+platform. Apparently Mr. Choi was not bound as is the usual custom.
+Closer observation, however, revealed the fact that his hands<span class='pagenumbq'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> were
+bound with cords, but in his case the ropes were placed on the
+inside instead of the outside, of the clothes. He arrived in
+Pyengyang the next day, May 27, at 5 p.m. Instead of taking Mr.
+Choi first they called in one of the students whose name is Chai
+Pony Am. After the usual preliminary questions these inquisitors of
+the Dark Ages said, 'We know all about you everything you have
+done. There is no use for you to deny anything. You make a clean
+confession of everything.' Mr. Choi replied, 'I have done nothing.
+If I knew what you wanted, I would tell you.' More pressure was
+urged in the way of bombastic speech. Finally the police said, 'If
+you won't tell of your own free will we will make you tell!' Then
+the tortures, which the Government published broadcast had been
+done away with, began. They brought out a round stool with four
+legs and laid it down on its side with the sharp legs up and made
+him strip naked. Then they took the silken bands (about 2 in. wide)
+and placing his hands behind his back until the shoulder blades
+touched begun bending the arm from the wrist very tight. This
+completed, they made him kneel upon the sharp edge of the legs of
+the stool with his shins. Then they took the bamboo paddle (this is
+made of two strips of bamboo about 2 in. wide and 2 ft. long wound
+with cord) and begun beating him on the head, face, back, feet and
+thighs. Every time they struck him his body would move and the
+movement cause the shins to rub on the sharp edges of the stool. To
+further increase the pain they took lighted cigarettes and burnt
+his flesh. This was continued until the student fainted and fell
+off. They then would restore the patient by artificial respiration
+and when he refused to confess, continued the torture. This process
+was continued for 45 minutes and then the student was put into a
+dark cell and kept for three days. Upon the third day he was again
+brought before these <i>just</i> policemen and asked if he were ready to
+confess. Said they, 'If you do not tell us this time we will kill
+you. You see how the waters of the Tai Pong (the river at
+Pyengyang) wear smooth these stones. That is what we do with those
+who come in here. Many have been killed in here. Your life<span class='pagenumbq'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> is not
+worth as much as a fly.' He was tortured in the same manner as
+before and then put back into the cell for another three days. This
+process was continued every three days for two weeks.</p>
+
+<p>"When Mr. Choi, the educational director of the Y.M.C.A. was called
+in the police said, 'You are an educated gentleman and we propose
+to give you the gentleman's treatment. We do not want to treat you
+like ordinary men. Now we want you to tell us what your thoughts
+have been and are. Make a confession of anything you have done
+since March 1st, 1919.' Mr. Choi said, 'What do you want me to
+confess? If you will give me a little time I will write you out
+something.' This they refused to do and said, 'Since you refuse to
+tell us we will make you tell. We will treat you like all other
+dogs.' Then they forcibly took off his clothes, and proceeded to
+bind him in the same manner as the previous student. After being
+bound he was placed on the stool and beaten. He did not lose his
+consciousness but fell off the stool, and then was placed back and
+the same process continued. When Mr. Choi fell off the stool the
+bands on his arms were loosened and they proceeded to unloosen and
+rewind his arms. This time they wound them tighter than before. At
+the ends of these bands are brass rings which are placed next to
+the flesh and made to press upon the nerves. This time Mr. Choi
+said as they wound his right arm he felt a sharp pain and at once
+noticed that he had lost the use of his arm. It was paralyzed. Mr.
+Choi was tortured five times in all&mdash;one every three days. The
+first torture lasted one hour and the succeeding ones were less
+severe than the first. At the end of two weeks, June 10th, Mr. Choi
+and the six students with him were called before a police captain
+who said to the students, 'There is nothing against you. Some bad
+Korean has testified falsely against you. We are sorry you have
+suffered but you can now go free.' However to Mr. Choi he said,
+'You must remain here a week yet. You are still under police
+supervision. Go to &mdash;&mdash; hotel and stay.' On June 16th the police
+came to the hotel where he was staying and said, 'You may go down
+to Seoul tonight.' Mr. Choi arrived<span class='pagenumbq'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> in Seoul on the 17th and gave
+this testimony. His arm is still paralyzed."</p></div>
+
+<p>And so it is that these great failures stand out: the failure of a race
+of people to survive; the failure of the American people to estimate the
+loss of Shantung at its proper valuation spiritually, and the failure of
+Japan to understand that Korea is still and ever shall be <i>Korea the
+Unconquered</i>; this Korea which I call "The Wild Boar at Bay."</p>
+
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER X<br />
+<small>FLASH-LIGHTS OF FRIENDSHIP</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>We were running down the Samabs River in a small Dutch ship, the
+<i>Merkeus</i>. This river, running almost parallel to the Equator, and not
+more than fifty miles away from that well-known institution, cuts the
+western end of Borneo in two, and lends phenomenal fertility to its
+soil.</p>
+
+<p>Shooting around a bend in the river, suddenly there loomed on the
+western shores, so close that we could throw a stone and hit it, a tree
+that was leafless, dead as a volcanic dump; but its dead branches
+literally swarmed with monkeys. The light in the west had so far gone
+that they appeared as silent silhouettes against the sunset Their tails,
+which seemed to be about three feet long, and were curled at the ends,
+hung below the dead branches. One big fellow had perched himself on the
+tiptop of the tree, and in the dim light he looked like a human sentinel
+as his black outline appeared against the evening light.</p>
+
+<p>Then came Missionary Worthington's story about Kin Thung, the boy who,
+with characteristic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> Oriental spirit, had quick murder in his heart:</p>
+
+<p>"It was while I was the head of the Boys' School down in Batavia, Java,
+that it happened. One has experiences out here in dealing with youth
+that he does not get at home, for it is inflammable material, explosive
+to the highest degree."</p>
+
+<p>I waited for his story to continue as the Dutch ship glided swiftly down
+the river toward the South China Sea, and night settled over us as we
+sat there on the upper deck, watching the crimson glory change into
+sudden purple.</p>
+
+<p>"I heard a noise and I knew there was a fight on in the dormitory. I had
+seen the aftermath of such Malay and Chinese feuds in our schools
+before, and I knew that it was no trivial matter, as it often is with
+boy fights at home, so I hurried up.</p>
+
+<p>"When I got there I saw Kin Thung wiping his knife, and the boy he had
+been fighting lying on the floor, bleeding from a long wound."</p>
+
+<p>"What had happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Kin Thung was a quick-tempered boy. In addition to that, he was of a
+sullen make-up, with, what I call, a criminal tendency in him. That,
+added to his already volatile spirit, made him a real problem in the
+school. For instance, he was the kind of a boy who, if a teacher called<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
+on him without warning to recite, he would get uncontrollably angry,
+turn sullen and refuse to answer."</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you fire him?" I said.</p>
+
+<p>"That would have been the easy thing to do. I preferred to win him
+rather than to fire him!"</p>
+
+<p>I felt ashamed of myself for my suggestion, and looked out into the
+night skies where the beautiful form of the southern cross loomed in the
+zenith.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I didn't fire him."</p>
+
+<p>"What did you do?"</p>
+
+<p>"As I was dressing the boy's wound Kin Thung stood looking on, utterly
+expressionless and unrepentant, even sullen.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't say anything to Kin that night, save to ask him to come to the
+office the next day.</p>
+
+<p>"The other boys were calling out to him as he entered, and I could hear
+them through the window, 'I wonder how many strokes of the rattan he
+will get?' for that is one of our forms of punishment.</p>
+
+<p>"He was no doubt wondering himself when he entered, still sullen.</p>
+
+<p>"I said to him, 'Kin, I could give you as punishment a hundred strokes
+of the rattan. I could put you on rice and water for a month, or I could
+put you to a room for a week in solitary <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>confinement. But I am not
+going to do either or any of them. I am going to pray for you!"</p>
+
+<p>"'I don't want you to, sir!' he cried in alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"'Kneel down!' I said to him.</p>
+
+<p>"'I don't want to.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Kneel down, I say!'</p>
+
+<p>"'I won't!'</p>
+
+<p>"'But this is your punishment. You would submit to the rattan if I
+imposed that. You must submit to this!' I said.</p>
+
+<p>"'I hate prayer!'</p>
+
+<p>"'Kneel down, boy!'</p>
+
+<p>"He knelt. I prayed. He wept."</p>
+
+<p>This was the cryptic way the missionary came to the climax of his story.
+Again the Southern Cross shot into view as we turned a curve in the
+river.</p>
+
+<p>"The fountain broke. A boy's heart was won! I didn't have to fire him. I
+won him!"</p>
+
+<p>"That lad came to me two years later as he started out from our school
+in Batavia, and said, 'Mr. Worthington, that moment when you called me
+into your office was the crucial moment of my life. If you had been
+unkind to me then; if you had punished me, even as much as I deserved
+it; if you had not been Christ-like, I should have killed you. I had my
+knife ready. There was a demon in me! Your kindness, your praying for
+me, broke something inside of me. I guess it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> my heart. I cried. I
+prayed. That morning saved my soul!'"</p>
+
+<p>"That was a marvelous experience, Mr. Missionary! It was a marvelous way
+to meet the situation," I said in a low tone, looking up at the white
+outline of the Southern Cross, and remembering two thieves.</p>
+
+<p>"It was Christ's way!" said the missionary.</p>
+
+<p>But perhaps the outstanding Flash-light of national Friendship is that
+of America for the Philippines. I shall never forget the day we started
+southward from winter-bound China for sun-warmed Manila.</p>
+
+<p>As the great ship swung about in the muddy waters of the Yangsti and
+turned southward, the bitter winds of winter were blowing across her
+deserted decks. But in two days one felt not only a breath of warm
+tropical winds on his face but he also felt a breath of warmer
+friendship blowing into his soul as he thought of the Philippines and
+America.</p>
+
+<p>The first breath of warm winds from southern tropical seas gently kissed
+one's cheeks that afternoon. It was a soothing breath of romance,
+freighted with the scent of tropical trees. It was much of a contrast
+with the bitter winter winds that had blown the day before at Shanghai.
+There the snow was flying, and woolen suits were greatly needed.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>But to-night men and women alike walk the decks of this Manila-bound
+ship. They are all in white. One stands at the bow of the ship, glad to
+catch the salt spray on tanned cheeks, glad to feel the sea-touched
+winds playing with his hair, glad to see fair women of the Orient tanned
+with summer suns; for it is summer in the Philippines, while winter
+reigns in China and the rest of the Oriental lands further north.</p>
+
+<p>Last night we passed the narrow straits leading out of Shanghai harbor
+directly south. Two lighthouses blinked through the dusk of evening, the
+one to the north in short sharp notes, like a musician of the sea
+singing coasts, rapidly beating time. The light to the south seemed to
+count four in blinks and then hold its last count like a note of music.
+In between the two lighthouses vague, dim, mist-belted mountains of the
+China coast loomed through the dusk.</p>
+
+<p>This morning and all day long we have been sailing past the huge
+outlines of mountainous Formosa, that rich island off the coast of
+China, between Shanghai and Manila. It looks like some fairly island
+with its coves and caves, into which pours the purple sea, visible
+through the faint mists of morning and noontime. Its precipitous sides
+shoot down to the sea in great bare cliffs, save where, here and there,
+a beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> bay runs in from the southern sea to kiss the green lips of
+the land.</p>
+
+<p>But now the sun is setting. I am watching it from my stateroom window.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>And now it is the rainy season in the Philippines.</p>
+
+<p>It doesn't rain in Luzon; it opens up clouds, and oceans suddenly drop
+to the land. Lakes and rivers form overnight. Bridges wash out, fields
+are inundated, houses by thousands are swept away, and railroad tracks
+twisted and played with, as if they were grappled by gigantic fists.</p>
+
+<p>Men will tell you of the great Typhoon that suddenly dropped out of the
+mountains at Baguio, sliced off a few sections of the mountains, rushed
+down through the great gorge, and left in its trail the iron ruins of
+eight or ten bridges, put in by American engineers, founded on solid
+granite; but swept away like playthings of wood, in an hour.</p>
+
+<p>One night we were driving from Baguio to Manila.</p>
+
+<p>A storm dropped suddenly out of the nowhere. We had no side curtains on,
+and in just three minutes we were soaked to the skin, and dripping
+streams of water. The artesian wells along the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> way were but dribbling
+springs compared with us.</p>
+
+<p>The storm came out of a clear, star-lit sky. Storms come that way in the
+Philippines. Only a few minutes before I had been looking up at the
+Southern Cross admiring its beauty. I looked again and there was no
+Southern Cross. A few great drops of rain fell and then came the deluge.</p>
+
+<p>Candle lights flickered in innumerable thatched houses where brown and
+naked women fluttered about dodging the rain, looking strangely like
+great paintings in the night. At the edge of each side porch a Bamboo
+ladder reached up from the ground. A fire burned against the rain. This
+fire leapt up for two feet.</p>
+
+<p>One could easily imagine on this stormy night, with every road a river,
+every field a flood, and every vacant space a sea, that the thatched
+houses raised on Bamboo poles were boats, afloat in a great ocean. The
+fires on the back porches looked for all the world like the fires that I
+have seen flaring against the night from Japanese fishing boats.</p>
+
+<p>We had been warm, personal friends since college days, this driver and
+I. He had chosen the harder way of the mission fields to spend his life.</p>
+
+<p>"After all," said he, "that was a dream worth dreaming!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>"What do you mean?" I asked him, a bit startled.</p>
+
+<p>"Why the American occupation of these islands; the dream that McKinley
+had, of teaching them to govern themselves; and then giving them their
+independence; an Imperial Dream such as the world never heard of before;
+a dream that, if it has done nothing else, has won for America the
+undying friendship of the intelligent Filipino."</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are, man! But why such a thought at this ungodly hour? I
+should think rather that you would be sending out an S. O. S."</p>
+
+<p>"Dunno! Just flashed over me that that was a dream worth dreaming; and,
+by gad, boy, we're seeing it come to pass. Look at those contented
+people living in peace and security; their home fires lighted; their
+children in school; plenty to eat; not afraid that to-morrow morning
+some Friar will sell their home from under them. No wonder they have
+given their undying friendship to America!"</p>
+
+<p>He continued as we sped through the rain.</p>
+
+<p>"England and Germany sneered at America's dream. Such a dream of
+friendship through serving its colony had never been born in any other
+national soul from the Genesis of colonization up to this day, save in
+the soul of America in the Philippines. We have set the ideals of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
+world in many ways but never in a more marked way than this.</p>
+
+<p>"The Phoenicians were the first colonizers and they swept the
+Mediterranean with a policy of exploitation and slavery which was
+selfish and sordid. Then came Greece which had some such ideal of
+colonization as America. Her ideal was, that colonies, like fruit from a
+tree, when ripe, should fall off of the mother tree. Or the ideal of
+Greece was that colonizing should come about like the swarming of bees."</p>
+
+<p>I nodded my head. He went on as we slashed through the muddy ways, "Rome
+with her Imperial dream, her army to back it up, failed as have failed
+both Germany and Japan; three nations with kindred ideals as to
+colonization.</p>
+
+<p>"Venice was cruel, adventurous and rapacious in her colonizing policy on
+the Black Sea and she left a record of exploitations which makes a black
+blotch on the world's pages.</p>
+
+<p>"Modern colonization began with Spain in South America, Mexico and the
+Philippines. Spain has nothing over which to boast in that record. The
+Dutch in Java, the record of Belgium in the Congo; that of the
+Portuguese in the Far East; the French in Africa; the English in India;
+Germany in China and Africa, and Japan in Korea, have not been entirely
+for the service of the subjected people, for all of these Governments<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>
+have gone on the fundamental theory that the colony exists for the
+Mother States."</p>
+
+<p>He paused a moment as we made a cautious way around a big caribou. "Then
+came the great dream of America that the Mother State exists for the
+benefit of the colony.</p>
+
+<p>"Elihu Root said, 'We have declared a trust for the benefit of the
+people of the Philippine Islands!'</p>
+
+<p>"President William McKinley said: The government is designed not for
+exploitation nor for our own satisfaction, or for the expression of our
+theoretical views, but for the happiness, peace and prosperity of the
+people of the Philippine Islands.'</p>
+
+<p>"Ex-President Taft said when he was Governor-General of the Islands: The
+chief difference between the English policy and treatment of tropical
+peoples and ours, arises from the fact that we are seeking to prepare
+them under our guidance for popular self-government. We are attempting
+to do this, first by primary and secondary education offered freely to
+the Filipino people.'</p>
+
+<p>"This spirit has won the undying friendship of the Filipino people. True
+enough, they will finally want their independence. That is natural, but
+there is a deep love for America buried in their hearts because America
+has been square with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> them; has fulfilled her promises; has not
+exploited them, but has served them. That is why I call the colonization
+policy of America here in the Philippines a dream worth dreaming." My
+friend was right.</p>
+
+<p>"We love America, because America is our friend!" said a humble
+fisherman to me one day on the banks of the Pasig.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, the United States; it is our own! You are our brothers!" said a
+Filipino boy who had been educated in a Mission school.</p>
+
+<p>"We are no longer our own. We belong to America. You have bought us with
+a price! It cost the blood of American soldiers to buy us!" said an old
+Filipino, gray with years, but high in the councils of the Government.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>One night on the Lunetta the Filipino Band was playing. It was a
+beautiful evening with a sunset that lifted one into the very skies with
+its bewildering glory and ecstasy. I had been sitting there, drinking in
+the beautiful music made by the world-famous Constabulary Band, and
+watching the quicksilver-like changing colors of the sunset. Then the
+band started to play "The Star Spangled Banner." I was so lost in the
+sunset and the music that I did not notice.</p>
+
+<p>I heard a sudden stirring. Brown bodies, half-naked Filipinos all about
+me, had leapt to their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> feet at the playing of our national hymn.
+Beautiful Filipino women in their dainty and delicately winged gowns,
+bare brown shoulders heaving with pride and friendship, stood
+reverently. Filipino soldiers all over the Lunetta stood at attention
+facing the flag, the Stars and Stripes waving in the winds from the old
+walled city. Side by side with American soldiers who had just returned
+from Siberia stood Filipino Constabulary soldiers. Side by side with
+well-dressed American children stood half-naked Filipino children at
+reverent attention, paying a wholesome respect to the Stars and Stripes
+as the old hymn swept across the Lunetta.</p>
+
+<p>"That is a thrilling thing to see!" I said to a friend.</p>
+
+<p>"It could not have happened ten years ago! M he replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"They did not trust us, and they did not love us. They had seen too much
+of the selfish colonization policies of Spain. They expected the same
+things from America. It did not come. They have been won to us!"</p>
+
+<p>This warm-hearted friendship is not true either of England's colonies
+anywhere in the Orient or of Japan's in Formosa or Korea. It is true
+alone in the Philippines.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>While I was in the Philippines, down in San Fernando, a statue was
+erected to a well-known rebel. He was a man who had refused to take the
+oath of allegiance to America when we captured the islands. He escaped
+and carried on a propaganda against us. But when he died and a request
+was made that a statue be erected to his memory, the United States
+granted this permission.</p>
+
+<p>At the dedication of this statue the Governor of this Province said that
+he doubted if any nation on the face of the earth, save the United
+States, would have permitted the erection of such a statue to a rebel
+against that government. "That act will bind our hearts closer to the
+heart of the United States!" he said in closing his address. The
+thrilling thing about it all was, that his address was met with
+prolonged cheering on the part of the thousands of Filipinos who had
+gathered for the dedication.</p>
+
+<p>Another evidence of this beautiful friendship for America is the
+painting which adorns the walls of one of the Government buildings in
+Manila. It is called "The Welcome to America." It was purchased, paid
+for and erected by Filipinos; erected in good will, with laughter in
+their souls, and joy in their hearts.</p>
+
+<p>It was painted by Hidalgo in Paris in 1904.</p>
+
+<p>High colors; reds, browns, yellows, golds,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> blues, purples; tell its
+story. It adorns the panel at the end of the Senate Chamber of the
+Filipino Government.</p>
+
+<p>It has spirit in it and a great, deep sincerity.</p>
+
+<p>The central figure is a beautiful woman, symbolic of America. She comes
+across the Pacific carrying the gifts of peace, prosperity, security and
+love to her colony, the Philippines.</p>
+
+<p>She carries in one hand the American flag. At her side is Youth bearing
+a Harp, symbol of the music that America brings into the souls of the
+people whom she comes to serve. Singing angels hover about the scene.</p>
+
+<p>Above the central figure of America, on angel wings, is a Youth carrying
+a lighted torch. To the left is a beautiful brown-skinned Filipino woman
+with eyes uplifted to this torch. She bears within her ample bosom the
+children of the islands. The torch is symbol of the fact that we are
+handing on the light of our Christian civilization to the children of
+our colonies.</p>
+
+<p>I visited this painting many times, but I never visited it that I did
+not see many Filipinos, both young and old, standing before it, with
+reverent eyes.</p>
+
+<p>I said to a high official of the Government, "Does that painting
+represent the way you Filipinos feel to-day?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>"Hidalgo has spoken for us. He has voiced our feelings well!" was the
+reply.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*&nbsp;*</p>
+
+<p>This friendship for the United States is a thrilling thing found all
+over the Far East. One finds it in Korea, as well as in the Philippines,
+like a burning light of glory. Korea says, "America is our only hope! We
+have always trusted and loved America!"</p>
+
+<p>One finds it like a silver stream running through the life of China. Dr.
+Sun Yat Sen said to me in Shanghai: "America has always been China's
+staunch friend! America we trust! America we love! America is our hope!
+America is our model!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tang Shao-yi said, "America's hands and those of America alone are
+clean in her relations with China. This cannot be said of the other
+nations."</p>
+
+<p>Then he told me a thrilling story of the Boxer Rebellion. He, with two
+thousand Chinese, who were Government officials, were barricaded in a
+compound behind the usual Chinese walls. The Boxers were firing on them
+every day. They had run out of food. In fact, they were starving.</p>
+
+<p>But one morning a bright-faced American boy appeared at the gates of the
+wall. He was admitted because he was an American. He asked to be taken
+to Mr. Tang Shao-yi.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>"What do you most need?" this young American asked the rich Chinese
+merchant.</p>
+
+<p>"We most need food," was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, I'll get enough for you to-day!" said the young American.</p>
+
+<p>"That night," said Mr. Tang Shao-yi, "that American boy returned with
+five hundred hams which the Boxers had thrown away, in addition to a
+thousand sacks of flour which he had gotten from the English legation."</p>
+
+<p>"Wonderful!" I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"And that boyish American was&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Who?" I asked with tense interest, for the old man was smiling with a
+suggestive Oriental smile, as if he had a climax up his commodious
+sleeves.</p>
+
+<p>"That man was Herbert Hoover!"</p>
+
+<p>And from that interview henceforth and forever no human being need tell
+me that the Chinese have no sense of the dramatic.</p>
+
+<p>"That's why we love and trust America," said this great Chinese
+statesman. "It is because America has always been our friend in time of
+need!"</p>
+
+<p>I found this friendship for the United States true all over the Oriental
+world. It was to me a great miracle of national friendship. The peoples
+of the Orient trust us. They are not suspicious of our intentions in
+spite of what jingo papers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> say. We have won their hearts. We have
+claimed their friendship.</p>
+
+<p>The name "America," which stands in the Oriental mind for the United
+States, is a sacred passport and password. It is a magical word. It
+opens doors that are locked to all the rest of the world; it tears down
+barriers, century-old, that have been barricading certain places for
+ages past. That simple word opens hearts that would open with none
+other.</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of the brown men of the Far East open wide at that word, and a
+new light appears in them. This is particularly true in Korea, in China,
+in the Malacca Straits, and in the Philippines.</p>
+
+<p>It is enough to bring a flood of tears to the heart of an American,
+lonely for a sight of his own flag, homesick for his native shores, to
+see and feel and hear and know the pulse of this friendship for our
+country among millions of brown men.</p>
+
+<p>"It is because we are like you, we Chinese," said Tang Shao-yi. "It is
+because we are both Democrats at heart!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is because you have been our true friends!" said Dr. Sun Yat Sen.</p>
+
+<p>"It is because your ideals are our ideals; your dreams our dreams and
+your friends our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> friends," said Wu Ting-fang, one of China's greatest
+leaders, to me.</p>
+
+<p>"It is because so many of our young men have been trained in your
+American schools, and because so many of us feel that the United States
+is our second home. It is because you have sent so many good men and
+women to China to help us; to teach us; to live with us; to love us; to
+serve us! It is because your missionaries from America have shown the
+real heart of the United States to us!" said Mr. Walter Busch, a Chinese
+American student who is now editor of the Peking <i>Leader</i>.</p>
+
+<p>But whatever the cause, the glorious fact is enough to:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Send a thrill of rapture through the framework of the heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And warm the inner bein' till the tear drops want to start!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>But perhaps the highest and holiest Flash-lights of Friendship that one
+finds in the Far East is that of the friendship formed by the American
+missionaries for the people among whom they are working, and the
+friendship that these people give in return. These are holy things.</p>
+
+<p>The average missionary comes home on his furlough, but before he is home
+three months he is homesick to go back to his people. So they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> come and
+go across the seas of the world through the years, weaving like a great
+Shuttle of Service the fabric of friendship for themselves and for the
+United States.</p>
+
+<p>This shuttle of service is being woven night and day across the Atlantic
+and across the Pacific by great ships bearing missionaries going and
+coming; furlough following furlough, after six years of service; term
+after term; leaving native land, children, memories; time after time
+until death ends that particular thread, crimson, gold, brown or white.
+The great Shuttle of Love weaves the fabric of friendship across the
+seas as the ships come and go, bearing outbound and homebound
+missionaries to foreign fields.</p>
+
+<p>I am thinking particularly of the Pacific as I write this sketch sitting
+in a room overlooking the great harbor of Yokohama where three Japanese
+warship lie anchored and two great Pacific liners, one on its way to San
+Francisco and another bound for Vancouver. They come and go, these great
+ships. A few days ago the <i>Empress of Asia</i> made its twenty-eighth trip
+across and it soon will start on its twenty-eighth trip back to
+Vancouver again. Some of the ships out of San Francisco have made more
+than a hundred trips. So they weave the shuttle back and forward across
+this great sea. And never a ship sails this sea that it does not carry
+its passenger<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> list of missionaries. Our list was more than half a
+hundred.</p>
+
+<p>As Mr. Forman, in a sympathetic and appreciative article that he has
+written for the <i>Ladies' Home Journal</i>, says, the common phrase on a
+Pacific liner is, "There are two hundred and fifty passengers and
+forty-five missionaries on board." Every Pacific passenger list
+immediately divides itself into two groups, the missionaries and the
+other passengers.</p>
+
+<p>Then Mr. Forman proceeds to slay those shallow, narrow-minded, often
+ignorant and uneducated tourists and business men who dare to speak of
+this traveling missionary with derision. Mr. Forman has no particular
+interest in missions and he has no particular interest in the Church,
+but he started out to investigate this derogatory phrase, "and
+forty-five missionaries."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Forman starts his article with these striking paragraphs</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"If ever you cross the Pacific you will find the passengers on the
+steamer quietly and automatically dividing themselves into two
+groups.</p>
+
+<p>"'How many passengers have we on board?' you may lightly ask your
+neighbor.</p>
+
+<p>"And your neighbor, traveled man no doubt (his twelfth crossing, he
+will mention), will smartly reply, with a suave, man-of-the-world
+smile: 'A hundred and two passengers and forty-five missionaries.'</p>
+
+<p>"After that you will be initiated and you will be mentioning with
+an easy grace to some one else that there are<span class='pagenumbq'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> on board so many
+passengers and so many missionaries. It becomes a part of the
+jargon of Pacific crossing."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>But Mr. Forman sees working that Shuttle of Service of which I am
+speaking. He sees, as any thinking man sees, as Roosevelt saw, as
+Bryan saw, and as Taft saw, that the greatest single influence for
+good in the Orient is the missionary. Mr. Forman was incensed at
+this careless phrase on the Pacific liners, and he investigated the
+work of our missionaries when he was in the Orient, and he came to
+the decision that they are worth more to America, even from that
+selfish standpoint, than all the ambassadors that we have sent
+over, because they are, in their crossing and recrossing, weaving a
+Fabric of Friendship between the Orient and the Occident; between
+the nations of the East and those of the West; between the white
+peoples and the brown peoples; in spite of the diplomatic
+differences and yellow newspapers in the United States and Japan.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Forman says about his conclusions:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"I concluded that any one of the large missions in those Oriental
+countries accomplished, so far as concerns American standing and
+prestige, more than all our diplomatic representation there put
+together. I do not believe it to be an exaggeration to say that for
+the Orient the missionaries are perhaps the only useful form of
+what is called diplomatic representation."</p></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>And again in the same article he says:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"One good missionary in the right place, it seemed to me, can
+accomplish more than quite a number of ambassadors."</p></div>
+
+<p>And again he wonderfully sums up that mission of love in a paragraph
+which I think ought to be passed on:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"But when a missionary establishes a clinic or a hospital, healing
+sores and diseases that their own medicine men have abandoned as
+hopeless; when he educates boys and girls that otherwise would have
+remained in darkness; when, with a whole-souled enthusiasm, he
+gives them counsel, aid and service and he asks nothing in return
+then the stolid and passive Chinese or Korean is genuinely
+impressed. Then America really becomes in his mind the synonym for
+kindness and service, and from mouth to mouth goes abroad the fame
+of the land that is aiming to do him good, without any menacing
+background of exploitation."</p></div>
+
+<p>I talked with one bright-faced, twinkling-eyed, red-blooded, big-framed
+missionary who was crossing with his family of a wife and four children.
+He had spent fifteen years in the Orient as a missionary, and then
+because of illness he had been compelled to go to America. There he had
+taken a church and had preached for five years. His health came back,
+and as he told me, "The lure of the East got me and I had to come back.
+I never was so happy in my life as I am on this trip and the whole
+family feels the same way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> We are going back to <i>our people</i>!" And the
+way he pronounced those <i>italicised</i> words made me know that he, too,
+was weaving a thread in the Fabric of Friendship.</p>
+
+<p>We met a woman who was traveling back to China with her three darling
+little tots. I made love to all three of them, and it wasn't long before
+I asked one where her Daddy was. I assumed, of course, that they had
+been home on a furlough and that Daddy was back there in China waiting
+anxiously for them to return to him. I pictured that meeting, for I have
+seen many such during war days, both on this side and in France.</p>
+
+<p>"My Daddy is dead," the child said simply with a quiver of her little
+lips.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, dear baby, we won't talk about it then," for I was afraid
+that those little trembling lips couldn't hold in much longer. But she
+wanted to tell me about it. I soon saw that. She liked to talk about her
+"dear dead Daddy."</p>
+
+<p>"He went to France," she said simply.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, he was a soldier?" I questioned.</p>
+
+<p>"No, he was better than a soldier, my Mamma says. He did not go to kill;
+he went to help." And back of that sentiment and that statement I saw a
+world of struggle and ideals in a missionary home where the man felt
+called across the seas to be "in it" with his country and at last the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
+refuge of the man who could go "not to kill but to help."</p>
+
+<p>"He went to work with the coolies and he got the influenza and died last
+winter. We won't have any Daddy any more," and her little blue eyes were
+misty with tears. And so were mine, more misty than I dared let her see.
+And they are misty now as I write about it. And yours will be misty if
+you read about it, as they should be. That is something fine in you
+being called out.</p>
+
+<p>Later I met the mother. She told me over again the story that little
+Doris had told me of the big Daddy who had felt the call to go to France
+in the Y.M.C.A. to help the poor "coolies," several hundred of whom
+were, by strange coincidence, going back to China on the same boat with
+us, and with that brave mother and those dear children. These "coolies"
+were going back alive, but he who went to serve them died. "Others he
+saved; Himself he could not save," echoed in my soul as that mother and
+I talked.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going back to the Chinese to spend the rest of my life finishing
+Will's work. It is better so. I shall be happier."</p>
+
+<p>"But the association there&mdash;everything&mdash;every turn you make&mdash;every place
+you go&mdash;will remind you of him," I protested.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>"It would be what Will would want most of all, that I go on with his
+work. I go gladly. It will be the best balm for my sorrow."</p>
+
+<p>And far above national friendships there loom these snow-white peaks of
+the sacrificial friendship the missionaries bear in their hearts for the
+people with whom they live, and serve, and die.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center">THE END</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="tnote">
+
+<p class="center"><b>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:</b></p>
+
+<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation of words preserved. (flash-lights,
+flashlights; foot-ball, football; star-lit, starlit; to-day, today;
+to-night, tonight)</p>
+
+<p>Inconsistencies in the spelling and transliteration of non-English words
+preserved. (Pyeng Yang, Pyengyang)</p>
+
+<p>Pages 32, 100, 122, 144, 188 were blank pages in the original text and therefore their page number anchors have
+not been inserted into the html.</p>
+
+<p>Pg. 25, "bacon" changed to "beacon". (like beacon lights of hope)</p>
+
+<p>Pg. 26, inserted missing comma. (there to the north," I said)</p>
+
+<p>Pgs. 79, 101, 145, inserted opening double quote mark to start of direct
+speech at top of chapter.</p>
+
+<p>Pg. 153, "flashng" changed to "flashing" (like flashing piston rods of
+steel)</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Flash-lights from the Seven Seas, by 
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+</body>
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+Project Gutenberg's Flash-lights from the Seven Seas, by William L. Stidger
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Flash-lights from the Seven Seas
+
+Author: William L. Stidger
+
+Commentator: Bishop Francis J. McConnell
+
+Release Date: October 14, 2008 [EBook #26924]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLASH-LIGHTS FROM THE SEVEN SEAS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ronald Lee
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS
+FROM THE SEVEN SEAS
+
+WILLIAM L. STIDGER
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: MT. TAISHAN, CHINA, SAID TO BE THE OLDEST WORSHIPPING
+PLACE ON EARTH.]
+
+
+
+
+  FLASH-LIGHTS
+  FROM THE SEVEN SEAS
+
+
+  BY
+  WILLIAM L. STIDGER
+
+  AUTHOR OF "STANDING ROOM ONLY," "STAR
+  DUST FROM THE DUGOUTS," "OUTDOOR
+  MEN AND MINDS," ETC.
+
+
+  WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
+
+  BISHOP FRANCIS J. McCONNELL
+
+
+  ILLUSTRATED
+  FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY
+  THE AUTHOR
+
+
+  NEW YORK
+  GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+  COPYRIGHT, 1921,
+  BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
+
+
+  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+
+  DEDICATED TO
+
+  MARY I. SCOTT
+
+  A WOMAN FRIEND
+  WHO PUSHED BACK THE HORIZONS OF
+  THE WORLD AND LED ME TO THE
+  BEGINNING OF THE TRAIL THAT
+  HAS NO END: THE TRAIL OF
+  DREAMS AND TRAVEL
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+BY BISHOP FRANCIS J. McCONNELL
+
+
+The Rev. William L. Stidger is one of the most thoroughly alive men in
+the ministry today. He sees quickly, reacts instantaneously, and knows
+how to bring others to a like alertness of mental and spiritual seizure.
+If it be said of him that he is impressionistic it must be remembered
+that the impressions are made on a mind of sound purpose and
+communicated to others for the sake of the truth behind the impression.
+His narratives of travel do not belong in the guide-book category or in
+that of the scientific geography. But if you wish to know what it would
+be like to visit yourself the countries described, the reading of Mr.
+Stidger's sketches will help you. If it be said that what one after all
+is getting is the Stidger view, it must not be forgotten that the
+Stidger view is marvellously vital and enkindling. The Stidger vitality
+is bracing and health-giving. It is a tonic for all of us who are
+getting a little old and sluggish. The contagion of youth and energy are
+in this book: it will reach and stir all who read.
+
+
+FRANCIS J. MCCONNELL
+
+_Pittsburgh, Pa._
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+
+That vast stretch of opal islands; jade continents; sapphire seas of
+strange sunsets; mysterious masses of brown-skinned humanity;
+brown-eyed, full-breasted, full-lipped and full-hipped women; which we
+call the Orient, can only be caught by the photographer's art in
+flash-light pictures.
+
+It is like a photograph taken in the night. It cannot be clear cut. It
+cannot have clean outlines. It can only be a blurred mass of humanity
+with burdens on their shoulders; humanity bent to the ground; creaking
+carts; weary-eyed children and women; moving, moving, moving; like
+phantom shadow-shapes; in and out; one great maze through the majestic
+ages; one confused history of the ancient past; emerging; but not yet
+out into the sunlight!
+
+Such masses of humanity; such dim, uncertain origins of unfathered
+races; these can only be caught and seen as through a glass darkly.
+
+Paul Hutchinson, my friend, in "The Atlantic Monthly" says of China what
+is true of the whole Orient:
+
+    "In this vast stretch of country, with its poor communications,
+    we can only know in part. When one sets out to generalize he
+    does so at his own peril. The only consolation is that it is
+    almost impossible to disprove any statement; for, however
+    fantastical, it is probably in accord with the facts in some
+    part of the land."
+
+The facts, fancies, and fallacies of this book are gleaned from the
+rovings and ramblings of a solid year of over fifty-five thousand miles
+of travel; through ten separate countries: Japan, Korea, China, the
+Philippine Islands, French Indo-China, the Malay States, Borneo, Java,
+Sumatra and the Hawaiian Islands; across seven seas: the Pacific Ocean,
+the Sea of Japan, the North China Sea, the Yellow Sea, the South China
+Sea, the Malacca Straits, and the Sea of Java; after visiting five wild
+and primitive tribes: the Ainu Indians of Japan, the Igorrotes of the
+Philippines, the Negritos of the same islands; the Dyaks of Borneo, and
+the Battaks of Sumatra; face to face by night and day with new races,
+new faces, new problems, new aspirations, new ways of doing things, new
+ways of living, new evils, new sins, new cruelties, new fears, new
+degradations; new hopes, new days, new ways, new nations arising; new
+gods, and a new God!
+
+When one comes back from such a trip, having fortified himself with the
+reading of many books written about these far lands, in addition to his
+travel, one still has the profound conviction that, after all is said,
+done, and thought out, the only honest way to picture these vast
+stretches of land and humanity is to confess that all is in motion; like
+a great mass of bees in a hive, one on top of the other, busy at
+buzzing, buying, selling, living, dying, climbing, achieving; groping in
+the dark; moving upward by an unerring instinct toward the light.
+
+At nights I cannot sleep for thinking about that weird, dim, misty
+panorama of fleeting, flashing pictures; those thousands of Javanese
+that I saw down in Sourabaya, who have never known what it means to have
+a home; who sleep in doorways by night, and along the river banks; where
+mothers give birth to children, who in turn live and die out under the
+open sky. Nor can I forget that animal-like beggar in Canton who dug
+into a gutter for his food; or those hideous beggars, by winter along
+the railway in Shantung; or the naked one-year-old child covered with
+sores which a beggar woman in the Chinese section of Shanghai held to
+her own naked breast. Those pictures and a thousand others abide.
+
+One has the feeling that if he could go back, again, and again, and
+again to these far shores, and live with these peoples and die with
+them, then he would begin faintly to understand what it all means and
+where it is all headed.
+
+And this author, for one, is honest in saying that, in spite of careful
+investigation, in spite of extensive travel and a sympathetic heart, he
+sees but dimly. The very glory of it all, the age of it all, the wonder
+of it all, the mysterious beauty and thrill of it all; the thrill of
+these masses of humanity, their infinite possibilities for future
+greatness; like a great blinding flash of glory, dims one's eyes for a
+time.
+
+But, now, that he has, through quiet meditation and perspective, had a
+chance to develop the films of thought, he finds that he has brought
+back home pictures that one ought not to keep to one's self; especially
+in this day, when, what happens to Asia is so largely to determine what
+happens to America.
+
+So, out of the dark room, where they have been developing for a year,
+and out of the dim shadows of that mysterious land whence they came,
+they are printed and at the bottom of each picture shall be written the
+humble words:
+
+    "Flash-Lights from the Seven Seas"
+
+
+WILLIAM L. STIDGER.
+
+_Detroit, Michigan._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                      PAGE
+
+        INTRODUCTION BY BISHOP FRANCIS J. MCCONNELL    vii
+
+        FOREWORD                                        ix
+
+CHAPTER
+
+      I FLASH-LIGHTS OF FLAME                           19
+
+     II FLASH-LIGHTS PHYSICAL                           33
+
+    III FLASH-LIGHTS OF FAITH                           49
+
+     IV FLASH-LIGHTS OF FEAR                            63
+
+      V FLASH-LIGHTS OF FRIGHTFULNESS                   79
+
+     VI FEMININE FLASH-LIGHTS                          101
+
+    VII FLASH-LIGHTS OF FUN                            123
+
+   VIII FLASH-LIGHTS OF FREEDOM                        145
+
+     IX FLASH-LIGHTS OF FAILURE                        165
+
+      X FLASH-LIGHTS OF FRIENDSHIP                     189
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+  MT. TAISHAN, THE OLDEST WORSHIPPING PLACE
+    ON EARTH                                   _Frontispiece_
+
+                                                         PAGE
+
+  THE WALLED CITY OF MANILA                                48
+
+  BEAUTIFUL FILIPINO GIRLS                                 48
+
+  KOREAN GIRLS WITH AMERICAN IDEALS AND TRAINING           49
+
+  STEPPING ASIDE IN KOREA                                  49
+
+  CONFUCIUS TOMB AT CHUFU, CHINA                           64
+
+  RUIN OF THE MING TOMBS                                   64
+
+  GRINDING RICE IN CHINA                                   65
+
+  A CAMEL TRAIN ENTERING PEKING                            65
+
+  THE TEMPLE OF HEAVEN, PEKING                            112
+
+  A BEAUTIFUL THIRTEEN-STORY PAGODA NEAR PEKING           112
+
+  A WAYSIDE TEMPLE AND SHRINE                             113
+
+  A SUNRISE SILHOUETTE, JAVA                              113
+
+  OLD BROMO VOLCANO, JAVA                                 128
+
+  A SIDE VIEW OF BEAUTIFUL BOROBOEDOER, JAVA              128
+
+  NAKED AND OTHERWISE                                     129
+
+  A DOG MARKET                                            129
+
+
+
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS FROM THE SEVEN SEAS
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FLAME
+
+
+Fire! Fire! Fire everywhere!
+
+Fire in the sky, fire on the sea, fire on the ships, fire in the
+flowers, fire in the trees of the forest; fire in the Poinsetta bushes
+which flash their red flames from every yard and jungle.
+
+In the tropical lands flowers do not burst into blossom; they burst into
+flame. Great bushes of flaming Poinsetta, as large as American lilac
+bushes, burst into flame over night in Manila.
+
+That great tree, as large as an Oak, which they call "The Flame of the
+Forest," looks like a tree on fire with flowers. One will roam the world
+over and see nothing more beautiful than this great tree which looks
+like a massive umbrella of solid flame.
+
+Every flower in the Orient seems to be a crimson flower. The tropical
+heat of the Philippines, Java, Borneo, Sumatra, the Malay States and
+India's far reaches; with beautiful Ceylon, and Burma; seems to give
+birth to crimson child-flowers.
+
+The sunsets burst into bloom, as well as the flowers. There is no region
+on earth where sunsets flare into birth and die in a flash-light of
+glory and beauty like they do in the regions of the South China Sea. For
+months at a stretch, every night, without a break, the most wildly
+gorgeous, flaming, flaring, flashing crimson sunsets crown the glory of
+the days.
+
+I have been interested in catching pictures of sunsets all over the
+world. I have caught hundreds of sunsets with the Graflex; and other
+hundreds have I captured with a Corona, just as they occurred; and I
+have never seen a spot on earth where the sunsets were such glorious
+outbursts of crimson and golden beauty as across the circling shores of
+Manila Bay.
+
+Night after night I have sat in that ancient city and watched these
+tumultuous, tumbling, Turner-like flashes of color.
+
+One night the sky was flame from sea to zenith across Manila Bay. It was
+like a great Flame of the Forest tree in full bloom. Against this sky of
+flaming sunset-clouds, hundreds of ships, anchored in the bay, lit their
+lesser crimson lights; while, now and then, a battleship which was
+signaling to another ship, flashed its message of light against the
+fading glow of glory in the crimson sunset.
+
+"It is light talking unto light; flash unto flash; crimson unto
+crimson!" said a friend who sat with me looking out across that
+beautiful bay.
+
+The picture of that flaming sunset, with the great vessels silhouetted
+against it; with the little lights on the ships, running in parallel
+rows; and the flashing lights of signals from the masts of the
+battleship will never die in one's memory.
+
+It was a quiet, peaceful scene.
+
+But suddenly, like a mighty volcano a burst of flame swept into the air
+at the mouth of the Pasig River. It leapt into the sky and lighted up
+the entire harbor in a great conflagration. The little ships stood out,
+silhouetted against that great flaming oil tanker.
+
+"It's a ship on fire!" Otto exclaimed.
+
+"Let's go and see it!" I added.
+
+Then we were off for the mouth of the Pasig which was not far away.
+
+There we saw the most spectacular fire I have ever seen. A great oil
+tanker full of Cocoanut-oil had burst into flame, trapping thirty men in
+its awful furnace. Its gaunt masts stood out like toppling tree
+skeletons from a forest fire against the now deepening might; made vivid
+and livid by the bursting flames that leapt higher and higher with each
+successive explosion from a tank of gasoline or oil.
+
+I got out my Graflex and caught several pictures of this flash-light of
+flame, but none that will be as vivid, as lurid, or as lasting as the
+flash-light that was etched into the film of my memory.
+
+The next flash-light of flame came bursting out of midnight darkness on
+the island of Java.
+
+We were bound for old Bromo, that giant volcano of Java. We had started
+at midnight and it would take us until daylight to reach the
+crater-brink of this majestic mountain of fire.
+
+White flashes of light, leapt from Bromo at frequent intervals all night
+long as we traveled on ponies through the tropical jungle trail, upward,
+and onward to the brink of that pit of hell.
+
+White flashes of light leapt from Bromo at the narrow rail. They called
+them "Night-Blooming Lilies," and sure enough they blanketed the rugged
+pathway that night like so many tiny white Fairies. Indeed there was
+something beautifully weird in their white wonder against the night.
+They looked like frail, earth-angels playing in the star-light, sending
+out a sweet odor which mingled strangely with the odor of sulphur from
+the volcano.
+
+And back of all this was the background of that awful, thundering,
+rumbling and grumbling volcano as somber as suicide. Strangely weird
+flashes lighted the mountains for miles around.
+
+"It looks like heat lightning back at home," said an American.
+
+"Only the flashes are more vivid!" said another member of the party.
+
+Those flashes of light from the inner fires of the earth, bursting from
+the fissures of restless volcano Bromo shall ever remain, like some
+strange glimpse of a new Inferno.
+
+Volcanic Merapi, another belching furnace of Java, gave me a picture of
+a flash-light of flame.
+
+The night that we stayed up on the old temple of Boroboedoer, Merapi was
+unusually active; and now and then its flashes of flame lighted up the
+whole beautiful valley between the temple and the mountain.
+
+At each flash of fire, the tall Bamboo and Cocoanut trees loomed like
+graceful Javanese women in the midst of far-reaching, green, rice
+paddies; while two rivers that met below us, wound under that light like
+two silver threads in the night.
+
+Once, when an unusually heavy flash came from Merapi, we saw below us a
+beautiful Javanese girl clasped in the arms of her brown lover. Each
+seemed to be stark naked as they stood under a Cocoanut tree like Rodin
+bronzes.
+
+It was this beautiful girl's voice that we later heard singing to her
+lover a Javanese love song in the tropical night.
+
+This, I take it, was the Flame of Love; a flame which lights up the
+world forever; everywhere her devotees, clothed or naked, are the same;
+forever and a day; be it on the streets of Broadway; along the lanes of
+the Berkshire Hills of New England; up the rugged trails of the Sierras;
+or along the quiet, tree-lined streets of an American village. It is a
+flame; this business of love; a flame which, flashing by day and night,
+lights the world to a new glory.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One night the missionaries in Korea saw flames bursting out against the
+hills.
+
+"What is it?" they cried, filled with fear.
+
+"The Japanese are burning the Korean villages!" said one who knew.
+
+All night long the villages burned and all night long the people were
+murdered. Runners brought news to the hillsides of Seoul where anxious,
+broken-hearted American missionaries waited.
+
+"One, two, three, four, five; ten, fifteen, twenty; thirty, forty,
+fifty; a hundred, two hundred, three hundred; villages are burning," so
+came the messages.
+
+The entire peninsula was lighted as with a great holocaust.
+
+It is said that the light could be seen from Fusan itself, a hundred
+miles away.
+
+"From our village it looked like a light over a great American
+steel-mill city," said a missionary to me.
+
+And when the morning came, the flames were still leaping high against
+the crimson sky of dawn.
+
+For days this burning of villages continued. Belgium never saw more
+ruthless flame and fire; set by sterner souls; or harder hearts!
+
+That was two years ago.
+
+The villages are charred ruins now. Some of them have never been
+rebuilt. The murdered people of these villages have gone back to dust.
+
+The Japanese think that the fires are out. They thought, when the flames
+of those burning villages ceased leaping into the skies; and at last
+were but smouldering embers; that the flames had died. But the Japanese
+were wrong, for on that very day, the Flames of Freedom began to burn in
+Korean hearts and souls! And from that day to this; those flames have
+been rising higher and higher. These are Flash-Lights of Flame that, as
+the years go by; mount, like beacon lights of hope on Korean hills, to
+light the marching dawn of Korean Independence.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A beautiful Korean custom that used to be; flashes a flame of fire
+across the screen of history.
+
+In the old days the Korean Emperor used to have signals of fire flashed
+from hill to hill running clear from the Chinese border to Seoul, the
+Korean capital. This signal indicated that all was well along the
+borders and that there was no danger of a Chinese invasion from the
+north.
+
+Korea has always been a bone of contention between China, Russia and
+Japan. Consequently this little peninsula has always walked on uneasy
+paths, which is ever the fate of a buffer state.
+
+Never did a Korean Emperor go to sleep in peace until he looked out and
+saw that the signal fires burned on the beautiful mountain peaks
+surrounding the city of Seoul; fires indicating that the borders were
+safe that night and that inmates of the palace might rest in peace and
+security.
+
+"It must have been a beautiful sight to have seen the light flashing on
+the mountain peak there to the north," I said to an eighty-year old
+Korean patriarch.
+
+"It meant peace for the night," he answered. "It was beautiful. I often
+long to see those fires of old burning again on yonder mountain."
+
+He said this with a dramatic wave of his stately white robed arm.
+
+"The sunsets still flame from that western mountain peak, overlooking
+your city beautiful!" I said with a smile.
+
+"Yes, the sunsets still flame behind that peak," he responded with a
+far-away look in his aged eyes.
+
+"Perhaps the good Christian God is lighting the fires for you?" I
+suggested.
+
+"Yes, He, the good Christian God; is still lighting the fires for us;
+but they are fires of freedom, fires of hope, and fires of Democracy!"
+the old man said with a new light in his own flashing eyes.
+
+"And fires of peace," I added.
+
+"Yes, fires of Peace when freedom comes!" he responded.
+
+But whatever the political implications are; it is historically true
+that this old custom had existed for years until the Japanese took
+possession of Korea and stopped this beautiful tradition.
+
+But behind that same mountain from which the bonfires used to flash in
+the olden days; indicating that the frontiers were safe for the night;
+that no enemy hosts were invading the peninsula; behind that mountain
+the fires of sunset still flame, flash, flare, and die away in the
+somber purple shadows of night.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nor shall one forget an evening at Wanju; a hundred miles from Seoul;
+sitting in the Mission House looking down into that village of a hundred
+thousand souls; watching the fires of evening lighted; watching a
+blanket of gray-blue smoke slowly lift over that little village;
+watching the great round moon slowly rise above a jutting peak beyond
+the village to smile down on that quiet, peaceful scene in mid-December.
+
+Koreans never light their fires until evening comes and then they light
+a fire at one end of the house, under the floor and the smoke and heat
+travel the entire length of the house warming the rooms. It is a poor
+heat maker but it is a picturesque custom.
+
+Thousands of flames lighted up the sky that night. The little thatch
+houses, and the children in their quaint garbs moving against the flames
+composed a strange Oriental Rembrandt picture.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Streets! Streets! Streets!
+
+Lights! Lights! Lights!
+
+Somehow streets and lights go together.
+
+We think of our great Broadway. We smile at our superior ingenuity when
+we think of the "Great White Way."
+
+But for sheer beauty; fascinating, captivating, alluring, beauty; give
+me the Ginza in Tokyo on a summer evening; with its millions of
+twinkling little lights above the thousands of Oriental shops; with the
+sound of bells, the whistle of salesmen, the laughter of beautiful
+Japanese girls; the clacking of dainty feet in wooden shoes; and the
+indefinable essence of romance that hovers over a street of this
+Oriental type at night. I'll stake the romance, and beauty of the Ginza
+in Tokyo, against any street in the world. He who has looked upon the
+Ginza by night, has a Flash-Light of Flame; of tiny, myriad little
+flaming lights; burned into his memory; to live until he sees at last
+the lighted streets of Paradise itself.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nor are the clothes of the Orient without their flaming colors.
+
+The beautiful kimonos of the Geisha girls of Japan; the crimson, gold,
+and rose glory of the Sing Song Girls of China; the flashing reds of the
+brown-skinned Spanish belles of the Philippines, as they glide, like
+wind-blown Bamboo trees through the streets; and the lurid, livid, robes
+which men and women alike wear in Borneo and Java. In fact all of the
+clothes of the Orient, are flame-clothes. There are no quiet colors
+woven into the gown of the Oriental. The Oriental does not know what
+soft browns are. Crimson is the favorite color for man or woman. They
+even make their sails red, blue, green and yellow. The beautiful colors
+of the sailboats in the harbor of Yokohama is one of the first flashing
+touches of the Orient that a traveler gets. From Japanese Obies, which
+clasp the waists of Japanese girls, to Javanese Sarongs, the flame and
+flash of crimson predominates in the gowns of both men and women. Where
+an American man would blush to be caught in any sort of a gown with
+crimson predominating save a necktie, the Japanese gentlemen, the
+Filipino, the Malay, and the Javanese all wear high colors most of the
+time. And the women are like splendid flaming bushes of fire all the
+time.
+
+A Javanese bride is all flame as far as her dress is concerned. Her face
+is powdered; her eyebrows are pencilled a coal black; her arms and
+shoulders daubed with a yellow grease. As to her dress, the sarong is a
+flaming robe that covers her body to the breasts; red being the dominant
+color; with a crown of metal which looks like a beehive on her head.
+Brass bracelets and ornaments on her graceful arms complete her costume.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Even the Pagodas and Temples of the Oriental lands are flame.
+
+The most beautiful Temples of Japan are the Nikko Temples.
+
+"See Nikko and you have seen Japan" is the saying that is well said.
+
+But when one has spent weeks or a week, days or a day at Nikko; he
+comes away with an impression of beautiful, tall, terraced,
+red-lacquered Pagodas; beautiful, graceful red-gowned women; beautiful,
+architectural masterpieces of Oriental Temples; all finished in
+wonderful red lacquer; beautiful red-cheeked women in the village
+stores; beautiful red Kimonos for sale in the Curio shops; red berries
+burning against the wonderful green grass; and all set off, against and
+under, and crowned by wonderful green rows of great Cryptomaria trees.
+These red Temples and these Red Pagodas--red with a red that is flaming
+splendor of the last word in the lacquer artist's skill; are like
+beautiful crimson jewels set in a setting of emerald.
+
+And back of all these Flash-Lights of Flame one remembers the path of a
+single star on the smooth surface of Manila Bay at night; and the
+phosphorescent beauty of Manila Bay where great ships cleave this lake
+of fire when the phosphorus is heavy of a Summer night; and every ripple
+is a ripple of flame. One remembers the continuous flash of heat
+lightning down in Borneo and on Equatorial Seas; and one remembers the
+Southern Cross; and the flash-lights of fire in a half-breed woman's
+eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS PHYSICAL
+
+
+The red dawn of tropical Java was near. The shadows of night were still
+playing from millions of graceful Palm trees which swung gently in the
+winds before the dawn.
+
+Three ancient volcanos, still rumbling in blatant activity, loomed like
+gigantic monsters of the underworld, bulging their black shoulders above
+the earth. Before us lay a valley of green rice paddies.
+
+We had roved over ancient Boroboedoer all night, exploring its haunted
+crannies and corners, listening to its weird noises; dreaming through
+its centuries of age; climbing its seven terraces. But in the
+approaching dawn, the one outstanding thrill of the night was that of a
+half-naked Javanese girl, who stood for an hour, poised in her brown
+beauty on the top of one of the Bells of Buddha, with some weird
+Javanese musical instrument, singing to the dawn.
+
+Then it came.
+
+"What? Her lover?"
+
+No! The dawn! The dawn was her lover! Or, perhaps her lover was old
+Merapi.
+
+For, there, as we too, climbed to her strategic pinnacle of glory on top
+of the Buddha Bell to watch the dawn that she had called up with her
+weird music and her subtle brown beauty; before us, stretched thousands
+of acres of green rice paddies, spread out like the Emerald lawn of an
+Emerald Springtime in Heaven. Below us two silver streams of water met
+and wedded, to go on as one.
+
+As we stood there that morning on the top of Boroboedoer's highest bell,
+lines of Edna St. Vincent Millay swung into my soul:
+
+    "All I could see from where I stood
+    Was three tall mountains and a wood."
+
+Only in this instance all I could see were three volcanos. And the one
+in the center, old Merapi was belching out a trail of black smoke. These
+three volcanos, take turns through the centuries. When one is working
+the other two rest. When one ceases its activity, one of the others
+takes up the thundering anthem and carries it on for a few years or
+centuries and then lapses into silence, having done its part. While we
+were there it was Merapi's turn to thunder and on this particular
+morning Merapi was busy before daylight.
+
+For fifty miles along the horizon, a trail of black smoke swept like the
+trail of black smoke which a train leaves in its wake on a still day.
+There was not another cloud in the eastern skies. Nothing but that trail
+of black smoke as we stood on the top of Boroboedoer at dawn and
+watched.
+
+Then something happened. It was, as if some magician had waved a magic
+wand back of the mountain. The rising sun was the magician. We saw its
+heralds spreading out, like great golden fan-ribs with the cone of the
+volcano, its direct center of convergence. Then before our astonished,
+our utterly bewildered, and our fascinated eyes, that old volcanic cone
+was changed to a cone of gold. Then the golden cone commenced to belch
+forth golden smoke. And finally the trail of smoke for fifty miles along
+the horizon became a trail of golden smoke.
+
+This was a Flash-Light that literally burned its way into our memories
+to remain forever.
+
+There is another Flash-Light Physical which has to do with another
+volcano which I mentioned in the preceding chapter. Bromo is its name.
+It is still there, down on the extreme eastern end of Java, unless in
+the meantime the old rascal has taken it into his demoniacal head to
+blow himself to pieces as he threatened to do the day we lay on our
+stomachs, holding on to the earth, with the sides trembling beneath us.
+
+Old Bromo was well named. It reminds one of Bromo-Seltzer. I had heard
+of him long before I reached Java. I had heard of the Sand Plains down
+into the midst of whose silver whiteness he was set, like a great
+conical gem of dark purple by day and fire by night.
+
+Travelers said "You must see Bromo! You must see Bromo! If you miss
+everything else see Bromo! It's the most completely satisfactory volcano
+in the world."
+
+It was two o'clock in the morning when we started on little rugged
+Javanese ponies up Bromo's steep slopes.
+
+At daybreak we reached the mile high cliff which looks down into the
+world-famous Sand Sea. It was a sea of white fog. I have seen the same
+thing at the Grand Canyon and in Yosemite looking down from the rims. I
+thought of these great American canyons as I looked down into the Bromo
+Sand Sea. By noon this was a great ten-mile long valley of silver sand
+which glittered in the sunlight like a great silver carpeted ballroom
+floor. Tourists from all over the world have thrilled to its strange
+beauty. Like the gown of some great and ancient queen this silver cloth
+lies there; or like some great silver rug of Oriental weaving it
+carpeted that valley floor at noon.
+
+But at daybreak it was a sea of mist into which it looked as if one
+might plunge, naked to the skin and wash his soul clean of its tropical
+sweat and dirt; a fit swimming pool for the gods of Java, of whom there
+are so many.
+
+Then something happened as we stood looking down into that smooth sea of
+white fog, rolling in great billows below us. There was a sudden roar as
+if an entire Hindenburg line had let loose with its "Heavies." There was
+a sudden and terrific trembling of the earth under our feet which made
+us jump back from that precipice in terror.
+
+Then slowly, as if it were on a great mechanical stage, the perfect cone
+of old rumbling Bromo, from which curled a thin wisp of black smoke,
+bulged its way out of the center of that sea of white fog, rising
+gradually higher and higher as though the stage of the morning had been
+set, the play had begun, and unseen stage hands behind the curtain of
+fog, with some mighty derrick and tremendous power were lifting a huge
+volcano as a stage piece.
+
+Then came the quick, burning tropical sun, shooting above the eastern
+horizon as suddenly as the volcanic cone had been lifted above the fog.
+This hot sun burned away the mists in a few minutes and there,
+stretching below us, in all its oriental beauty was the sinewy,
+voluptuous form of the silver sand sea--Bromo's subtle mistress.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There is another Physical Flash-light that will never die.
+
+Coming out of the Singapore Straits one evening at sunset, bound for the
+island of Borneo across the South China Sea, I was sitting on the upper
+deck of a small Dutch ship. The canvas flapped in the winds. A cool,
+tropical breeze fanned our faces. Back of us in our direct wake a
+splashing, tumbling, tumultuous tropical sunset flared across the sky.
+It was crimson glory. In the direct path of the crimson sun a lighthouse
+flashed its blinking eyes like a musical director with his baton beating
+time.
+
+I watched this flashing, lesser, light against the crimson sunset and
+was becoming fascinated by it.
+
+Then great black clouds began to roll down over that crimson background
+as if they were huge curtains, rolled down from above, to change the
+setting of the western stage for another act.
+
+But as they rolled they formed strange and beautiful Doric columns
+against the crimson skies and before I knew it, I was looking at the
+ruins of an old Greek temple in the sky. Then the black clouds formed a
+perfect hour-glass reaching from the sea to the sky, with its background
+of crimson glory, and the little lighthouse seemed to be flashing off
+the minutes in the arteries of that hour-glass.
+
+And then it was night a deep, dense, tropical night; heavy with
+darkness; rich with perfume; weird with mystery. But the sunset of
+crimson; the Doric temple in ruins; the hour-glass; and the flashing
+lighthouse still remained.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And who shall ever forget the sunsets of gold across Manila Bay night
+after night; with great warships and majestic steamers, sleek and
+slender cutters, white sails, long reaching docks, and graceful Filipino
+women, silhouetted against the gold? And who shall forget the domes,
+towers, and pinnacles of the Cathedrals; and the old fort within the
+city walls as they too were silhouetted against the gold of the evening?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mt. Taishan, the oldest worshiping place on earth, not far from the
+birthplace of Confucius; in Shantung; is one of the most sacred shrines
+of the Orient. There, countless millions, for hundreds of centuries,
+have climbed over six thousand granite steps, up its mile high slope to
+pay their vows; to catch a view of the blue sea from its imminence; to
+feel the sweep, wonder and glory of its sublime height, knowing that
+Confucius himself gloried in this climb. The exaltation of that glorious
+view; shall live, side by side, with the view from the top of the Black
+Diamond range in Korea one winter's night as we caught the full sweep
+of the Japan Sea by sunset. In fact these all shall live as great
+mountain top Physical Flash-Lights etched with the acid of a burning
+wonder into one's soul!
+
+Nor shall one ever forget a month's communion with Fujiyama, that
+solitary, great and worshiped mountain of Japan; sacred as a shrine;
+beautiful with snow; graceful as a Japanese woman's curving cheek;
+bronzed by summer; belted with crimson clouds by sunset like a Japanese
+woman's Obie. It, too, presented its unforgettable Physical
+Flash-Lights.
+
+The first glimpse was one of untold spun-gold glory. There it stood.
+
+"There it is! There it is! Look!" a fellow traveler cried.
+
+"There is what?" I called. We were on top of a great American College
+building in Tokyo.
+
+"It's Fuji!"
+
+I had given up hope. We had been there two weeks and Fujiyama was not to
+be seen. The mists, fogs, and clouds of winter had kept it hidden from
+our wistful, wondering, waiting eyes.
+
+But there it stood, like a naked man, unashamed; proud of its white
+form; without a single cloud; burning in the white sunlight. Its huge
+shoulders were thrown back as with suppressed strength. Its white chest,
+a Walt Whitman hairy with age; gray-breasted with snow; bulged out like
+some mighty wrestler, challenging the world. No wonder they worship it!
+
+I had gloried in Fujiyama from many a varied viewpoint. I had caught
+this great shrine of Japanese devotion in many of its numberless moods.
+I had seen it outlined against a clear-cut morning sunlight, bathed in
+the glory of a broadside of light fired from the open muzzle of the sun.
+I had seen it shrouded in white clouds; and also with black clouds
+breeding a storm, at even-time. I had seen it with a crown of white upon
+its brow, and I had seen it with a necklace of white cloud pearls about
+its neck.
+
+Once I saw this great mountain looking like some ominous volcano through
+a misty gray winter evening. And one mid-afternoon I saw it almost
+circled by a misty rainbow, a sight never to be forgotten on earth or in
+heaven by one whose soul considers a banquet of beauty more worth
+shouting over than an invitation to feast with a King.
+
+But the last sight I caught of Fuji was the last night that I was in
+Tokyo, as I rode up from the Ginza on New Year's eve out toward Aoyama
+Gakuin, straight into a sunset, unsung, unseen by mortal eye.
+
+Before me loomed the great mountain like a monstrous mass of mighty
+ebony carved by some delicate and yet gigantic artist's hand.
+
+I soon discovered where the artist got the ebony from which to carve
+this pointed mountain of ebony with its flat top; for far above this
+black silhouetted mountain was a mass of ebony clouds that seemed to
+spread from the western horizon clear to the rim of the eastern horizon
+and beyond into the unseen Sea of Japan in the back yard of the island.
+It was from this mass of coal-black midnight-black clouds that the giant
+artist carved his ebony Fuji that night.
+
+But not all was black. Perhaps the giant forged that mountain rather
+than carved it, for there was a blazing furnace behind Fuji. And this
+furnace was belching fire. It was not crimson. It was not gold. It was
+not red. It was fire.
+
+It was furnace fire. It was a Pittsburgh blast-furnace ten thousand
+times as big as all of Pittsburgh itself, belching fire and flames of
+sparks. These sparks were flung against the evening skies. Some folks, I
+fancy, on that memorable night called them stars; but I know better.
+They were giant sparks flung from that blast-furnace which was booming
+and roaring behind Fuji. I could not hear it roar; that is true; but I
+could feel it roar. I could not hear it because even so great a sound as
+that furnace must have been making will not travel sixty miles, even
+though it was as still up there in the old theological tower as a
+country cemetery by winter down in Rhode Island when the snow covers the
+graves.
+
+Then suddenly a flare of fire shot up directly behind the cone of Fuji,
+flaming into the coal-bank of clouds above the mountain, as if the old
+shaggy seer had forgotten his age and was dreaming of youth again when
+the earth was young and he was a volcano.
+
+Above that streak of fire and mingled with it, black smoke seemed to
+pour until it formed a flat cloud of black smoke directly above the
+cone, and spread out like a fan across the sky to give the giant artist
+further ebony to shape his mountain monument.
+
+Then Fuji suddenly belched its volcano of color and lava; of rose and
+gold, amber, salmon, primrose, sapphire, marigold; and in a stream these
+poured over Fuji's sides and down along the ridge-line of the lesser
+hills until they too were covered with a layer of molten glory a mile
+thick.
+
+The clouds above Fuji forgot to be black. In fact, their mood of
+sullenness departed as by magic, and a smile swept over their massive
+mood of moroseness, and glory swept the skies. It was as if that furnace
+behind Fuji had suddenly burst, throwing its molten fire over the hills,
+the mountains, the sky, the world.
+
+And "mine eyes" had "seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." And that
+was enough for any man for one lifetime.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Then there is beautiful Boroboedoer down in Java. It is a Physical
+Flash-Light that looms with its huge and mysterious historical
+architectural beauty like some remnant of the age when the gods of
+Greece roamed the earth. A sunrise from its pinnacled height I have
+already described, but the temple itself is unforgettable. There is
+nothing like it on the earth.
+
+Boroboedoer is one of the wonders of the world, although little known.
+It is in the general shape of the pyramid of Egypt, but more beautiful.
+One writer says, "Boroboedoer represents more human labor and artistic
+skill than the great pyramids." Mr. Alfred Russel Wallace says: "The
+human labor and skill expended on Boroboedoer is so great that the labor
+expended on the great pyramid sinks into significance beside it."
+
+Boroboedoer was built in the seventh century A.D., by the Javanese under
+Hindu culture. Then came the Mohammedan invasion, destroying all such
+works of art in its pathway.
+
+It is said that the priests so loved this beautiful Buddha temple that
+they covered it over with earth and then planted trees and tropical
+vegetation on it. In six months it was so overgrown that it looked like
+a hill. This is one explanation of why it lay for a thousand years
+unknown.
+
+The volcanic ashes undoubtedly helped in this secretion, for old Merapi
+even now belches its ashes, rocks and dust out over the beautiful valley
+down upon which Merapi looks.
+
+From Djodjakarta you go to the temples.
+
+This great temple has, instead of the plain surfaces of the great
+pyramid, one mile of beautifully carved decorations, with 2141 separate
+panels depicting the life of Buddha from the time he descended from the
+skies until he arrived at Nirvana, or perfect isolation from the world.
+A history of more than a thousand years is told in its stone tablets by
+the sculptor's chisel, told beautifully, told enduringly, told
+magnificently.
+
+One writer says: "This temple is the work of a master-builder whose
+illuminated brain conceived the idea of this temple wherein he writes in
+sculpture the history of a religion."
+
+And again one says architecturally speaking of it:
+
+"It is a polygonous pyramid of dark trachyte, with gray cupulas on
+jutting walls and projecting cornices, a forest of pinnacles."
+
+There are four ledges to this hill temple and above each ledge or stone
+path are rows of Buddhas hidden in great 5-foot stone bells, and at the
+top crowning the temple a great 50-foot bell in which Buddha is
+completely hidden from the world, symbol of the desired Nirvana that all
+Buddhists seek.
+
+Mysterious with weird echoes of a past age it stands, silhouetted
+against a flaming sky to-night as I see it for the first time. It is
+late evening and all day long we have been climbing the ancient ruins of
+that magnificent age of Hindu culture on the island of Java. This temple
+of Boroboedoer was to be the climax of the day, and surely it is all of
+that.
+
+The fire dies out of the sky. The seven terraces of the stone temple
+begin to blur into one great and beautiful pyramid. Only the innumerable
+stone bells stand out against the starlit night; stone bells with the
+little peepholes in them, through which the stolid countenances and the
+stone eyes of many Buddhas, in calm repose, look out upon the four
+points of the compass.
+
+Night has fallen. We have seen the great Temple by crimson sunset and
+now we shall see it by night.
+
+The shadows seem to wrap its two thousand exquisite carvings, and its
+Bells of Buddha in loving and warm tropical embrace. But no warmer, is
+the embrace of the shadows about the Temple than the naked embrace of a
+score of Javanese boys who hold to their hearts naked Javanese beauties
+who sit along the terraces looking into the skies of night utterly
+oblivious to the passing of time or of the presence of curious American
+strangers.
+
+Love is such a natural thing to these Javanese equatorial brown brawn
+and beauties that unabashed they lie, on Buddha's silent bells, breast
+to breast, cheek to cheek, and limb to limb; as if they have swooned
+away in the warmth of the tropical night.
+
+The Southern Cross looks down upon lover and tourist as we all
+foregather on the topmost terrace of that gigantic shadow-pyramid of
+granite.
+
+The sound of the innumerable naked footsteps of all past ages seems to
+patter along the stone terraces. Now and then the twang of the Javanese
+angklong and the beautiful notes of a flute sweep sweetly into the
+shadowed air.
+
+Then comes the dancing of a half dozen Javanese dancing girls, naked to
+the waist, their crimson and yellow sarongs flying in the winds of
+night, as, in slow, graceful movements, facing one of the Bells of
+Buddha they pay their vows and offer their bodies and their souls to
+Buddha; and evidently, also to the Javanese youths who accompany them in
+their dances.
+
+The sound of the voices of these Javanese girls--who in the shadows look
+for all the world like figures that Rodin might have dreamed--mingling
+their laughter with the weird music; shall linger long in one's memory
+of beautiful things.
+
+Their very nakedness seemed to fit in with the spirit of the night; a
+spirit of complete abandonment to beauty and worship. In their attitudes
+there seemed to be a mingling of religion and earthly passion; but it
+was so touched with reverence that we felt no shock to our American
+sensibilities.
+
+All night long we wandered about the terraces of the old Temple.
+
+We wondered how long the Javanese girls would remain.
+
+At dawn when we arose to see Boroboedoer by daylight they were still
+there as fresh as the dawn itself in their brown beauty, the dew of
+night glistening in their black hair and wetting their full breasts.
+
+And across, from Boroboedoer the sun, in its dawning splendor, was
+transforming belching and rumbling old volcanic Merapi into a cone of
+gold.
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING OVER THE WALLED CITY OF MANILA, AMERICAN SOLDIERS
+SCALED THIS WALL A FEW YEARS AGO TO STAY.]
+
+[Illustration: BEAUTIFUL FILIPINO GIRLS ALL OF WHOM SPEAK ENGLISH.]
+
+[Illustration: KOREAN GIRLS WITH AMERICAN IDEALS AND TRAINING.]
+
+[Illustration: STEPPING ASIDE IN KOREA TO LET THE AMERICAN DEVIL WAGON
+GO BY.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FAITH
+
+
+He was an old man; gray-haired, gray-bearded; gray-gowned; and he knew
+that the Japanese Gendarmes would just as soon take his life as light a
+cigarette. They do each with inhumane impunity. One means as much to
+them as the other.
+
+He was under arrest for conspiracy in the Independence Movement.
+
+"Do you know about the Independence Movement?" he was asked.
+
+"Yes, I know all about it," was his fearless reply; though he knew that
+that reply in itself might mean his death; even without trial or further
+evidence. Just the fact that he had admitted that he knew anything at
+all about the movement was enough to throw him into prison. He was like
+an old Prophet in his demeanor. Something about the very dignity and
+sublime Faith of the man awed the souls of these crude barbarians from
+the Island Empire.
+
+"Since when was it begun?" asked the Gendarmes.
+
+"Since ten years ago when you Japanese first came to Korea," was the
+dignified reply.
+
+"From whence did it spring?" he was asked next.
+
+"From the hearts of twenty million people!"
+
+"Did twenty millions of people all get together then, and plan?"
+
+"Not together in body but in spirit!"
+
+"But there must have been some men to start it?" the Japanese Gendarme
+said.
+
+"They all started it!" was the old man's reply.
+
+"Is there no one who had charge of this movement from the beginning?"
+
+"Yes, there is one!"
+
+"Do you know him?"
+
+"I know him well!"
+
+"What is his name?"
+
+"His name is God!" said this seventy-year old, fearless Christian Korean
+Patriot.
+
+Such faith as I have indicated in the paragraphs above is a common thing
+in Korea. Never in the history of the world have Christian people been
+subjected to the same tortures, the same cruelties, the same terrors,
+for their Faith as the early Christian martyrs; save these; the Koreans.
+
+We had thought that the world had gotten past that day when men would be
+tortured, crushed, persecuted, and killed because they were Christians
+but that day is not yet past as almost any American Missionary in Korea
+will testify.
+
+The Japanese officials will say that there is no persecution because of
+Christianity; but missionaries in Korea know better. They will point to
+countless incidents when men, women and children have been hounded, and
+persecuted for no other reason than that they were Christians.
+
+"And when Jesus heard it, He marveled greatly and said to them that
+followed, Verily I say unto you I have not found so great faith, no, not
+in Israel!" might well be said of the Korean Christians every hour,
+every minute, every second. They know what it means to die for their
+Faith.
+
+The story of Pak Suk Han is one of the most thrilling illustrations of
+Faith that I have ever heard in Oriental lands. He had been a Christian
+since he was seven years of age. He was a brilliant speaker and the
+Assistant Pastor of the First Methodist Church at Pyeng Yang, where,
+even the non-Christians loved him. He was arrested on Independence Day
+and sent to prison where a barbarous Japanese officer, whom the natives
+called "The Brute" kicked him in the side because he would not give up
+his Christ. From that kick and further inhuman treatment running over a
+period of six months; a disease developed which a most reliable
+missionary doctor told me ended Pak Suk Han's life.
+
+When he knew that he was about to die he said, "I have been a Christian
+and have served the church since I was seven years old. I have given my
+life to Christ, all but the last six months in prison which I have given
+to my country. I have no regrets. I might have lived had I been willing
+to deny my nation's rights and give up my Christ. I am going home to my
+Father's house. Good-by!" No Christian martyrs in the early centuries of
+the persecutions by Rome ever died with greater glory in their souls; or
+with deeper Faith!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The temperature was zero.
+
+The cold had swept down over night from the Siberian and Manchurian
+plains across the city of Seoul. The capital city of Korea was shivering
+with cold. But it was vibrant with something else. It was vibrant with a
+great sense of something impending.
+
+There were those who said that the restlessness in the souls of the
+Koreans had died down with the terrible days of the March Independence
+Movement; but I knew that the faith of the people was deeper than that.
+I knew that the flame of faith was just smouldering.
+
+I sensed this from the conversation of old-time missionaries who had
+been in Korea from the very beginning. I sensed it in the conversation
+of young Koreans who had graduated from American schools. It was there;
+a vibrant, living, pulsing, faith in God and in the justice of their
+hopes: the Independence of Korea.
+
+The whole thing was summed up for me in a flash. It was a flash of the
+light of a tremendous faith that blinded mine eyes for a day; but my
+soul it lighted as with a great eternal light.
+
+A Korean boy stepped into the home of a missionary friend of mine, whose
+name I dare not use. If I did he would likely be sent home by the
+Japanese. Men have been sent home for less.
+
+The snow crunched under his feet as he walked up across the yard and the
+porch. He knocked at the door.
+
+"Come in," said the missionary, kindly.
+
+The boy stepped in. The missionary had never seen him before. The boy
+was moved deeply as with a great emotion. He seemed to have carried into
+that quiet missionary home with him some of the tenseness of the outside
+air and some of the tenseness of the political situation.
+
+"What do you want?" asked the missionary.
+
+"I want to talk with you about something very important," he replied in
+Korean.
+
+"All right! Go ahead! Do not be afraid. I am your friend!"
+
+"So I know. All missionaries are our friends."
+
+"Then you need not be afraid to talk."
+
+"No!" said the boy. But he did not talk. His agitation was growing more
+marked.
+
+"Go on, my boy! Tell me what you came for."
+
+The Korean boy looked at the half open door which led into the kitchen.
+The missionary, without a word, stepped over and closed that door,
+because he understood.
+
+The boy himself closed a door which led into the missionary's study. For
+in Korea in these days no home; not even a missionary's home, is free
+from spies.
+
+The boy started to talk hurriedly. The missionary soon saw that he was
+not talking about the thing that he had come for.
+
+"Come to the point! Come to the point! You did not come to me, in such
+secrecy, to talk commonplace things like that!" said the missionary a
+bit sharply.
+
+Then the boy suddenly dropped to his knees behind the missionary's desk
+and whipped out a big knife. Then he took from his white gown a long
+piece of white cloth. This he laid out on the floor. Then he opened his
+sharp knife with a quick motion and before the missionary knew it, he
+had ripped the index finger of his right hand, from, the tip to the
+palm, clear to the bone, until the blood spurted all over the floor.
+
+"What are you doing, my boy?" cried the missionary.
+
+The boy smiled a sublime smile and then knelt on his knees over the
+white cloth and before the missionary's tear-misty eyes wrote across the
+immaculate cloth in his own blood the words: "Mansei! Mansei! Mansei!
+Korean Independence Forever! Self-determination!"
+
+Then underneath these words in a few swift strokes in his own blood he
+drew a picture of the Korean flag. And as he drew, now and then the
+blood would not flow fast enough; and he took his knife, as one primes a
+fountain pen; and cut a bit deeper to open new veins in order that the
+flag of his country and the declaration of his faith might be written in
+the deepest colors that his own veins could furnish.
+
+Finally, after what seemed hours he jumped to his feet and handed the
+missionary that flag; crying as he did so: "That is our faith! That is
+the way we Koreans feel! You are going back to America! We want America
+to know that our faith in the Independence of Korea has not died! The
+fire burns higher to-day than ever. The Japanese cruelties are worse!
+The need is greater! The oppression is more terrible! Our determination
+is deeper than ever before! I have come here this day, knowing that you
+are going back to America; I came to write these words in my own blood
+that you may know; and that America may know; that our faith is a flame
+which burns out like the beacon lights on the Korean hills, never to
+die!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The most scintillating Flash-light of Faith that I saw in the Orient was
+in the Philippine Islands. We were traveling the jungle trail to visit a
+tribe of naked Negritos. These are diminutive people who look like
+American negroes only they are much smaller; much more underfed, and who
+live in trees very much like the Orangutans of Borneo. They eat roots
+and nuts. They hunt with bows and arrows.
+
+They are the lowest tribe in mentality on the Islands.
+
+It was a terribly hot, tropical day and I had a sunstroke on the way up
+the mountainside to this Negrito village.
+
+I did not expect to get back alive.
+
+For three solid hours under a killing tropical sun, without the proper
+cork helmet and protection, a pile driver kept hammering down on my
+head. I felt it at every step I took. Finally I dropped unconscious on
+the trail. After several hours I was able to proceed to the top of the
+mountain, where the Negritos were camped.
+
+We got there about two o'clock and had lunch. As we ate about fifty
+Negritos swarmed about us.
+
+They were a horrible looking crowd; stark naked, filthy with dirt;
+starved to skin and bones; and animal-like in every look and move.
+
+I was so sick that I was not able to eat the lunch which had been
+provided in baskets. I lay on my back trying to get back my strength.
+
+As the rest of the expedition ate, the Negritos with hungry eyes,
+crowded closer.
+
+One hideous old man was in the forefront of the natives. He was so
+hideous looking that he was sickeningly repulsive to me as I looked at
+him crouched as he was like an animal with a streak of sunlight playing
+on his face.
+
+This streak of sunlight, with ruthless severity, made the ugly scabs of
+dirt stand out on his old wrinkled face. That face had not felt the
+touch of water in years. His whole body was covered with dirt and sores.
+Wherever the sunlight struck on that black body it revealed scales like
+those on a mangy dog. His body was also covered with gray hairs matted
+into the dirt.
+
+"That old codger represents the nearest thing to an animal that the
+human being can reach," said McLaughlin, one of the oldest missionaries
+on the island.
+
+"You're right!" I said. "He looks as much like a Borneo Orangutan as any
+human being I ever saw."
+
+"And he lives like one, too; up in a tree in a nest of matted limbs and
+grass," said another.
+
+"I've traveled among the wild tribes of the world all my life and I have
+seen the lowest human beings on earth; in Africa, South America,
+Malaysia, Borneo, Java--Australia--everywhere," said a widely traveled
+man in the crowd, "and I never saw a type as low in the scale as that
+old fellow!"
+
+So we discussed him as the lunch proceeded. He did not know, of course,
+that we had consigned him to the lowest rung on the ladder of humanity,
+so he just sat looking at us with his animal-like eyes as we ate; and at
+me as I lay under a tree trying to recover my strength for the trip
+back.
+
+"He is not a human being!" added a philosopher in the crowd. "He is
+lower than that stage. He doesn't seem to have a single spark of
+humanity left in him!"
+
+Then the meal over; the missionaries started to hand out what was left
+of the food to these starving Negritos. The old man whom we had decided
+was the lowest type of a human being on earth seemed, after all, to be
+the leader of the tribe; no doubt because of his age; perhaps because of
+something else which we were later to discover.
+
+McLaughlin handed out a sandwich to the old man.
+
+"Did he eat it himself?"
+
+"He did not! He handed it to a child near by."
+
+McLaughlin handed out another sandwich which was left.
+
+"Did the old man, whom we had decided was more of an animal than a human
+being, eat that one?"
+
+"He did not. He took it over behind a tree where another old man was
+timidly hiding and gave it to him."
+
+McLaughlin handed out another sandwich.
+
+"Did the old man eat that one?"
+
+"He did not. He took it over and gave it to an old woman near by."
+
+And so it continued, until every last piece of food was disposed of.
+That old man; whom we had decided was an animal; saw to it, that every
+man, woman, and child in that crowd was fed before he took a single bite
+himself.
+
+Then he suddenly disappeared. In half an hour he came back with an
+armful of great, broad, palm leaves. He spread these out on the ground
+in the shade of a tree; did this old man; this hideous looking monster;
+and then motioned for me to lie down on the bed he had made for me. He
+saw that I was sick.
+
+Then he disappeared once again, and when he returned he was carrying a
+long Bamboo-tube full of clear, cool water which he had gotten from a
+mountain spring. He brought it to where I was lying on the bed he had
+made for me and with this water he cooled my fevered, burning head; and
+from this water he gave me to drink; he whom we had decided was the
+lowest type of a human being on earth.
+
+And I am writing here to say; that I have never seen a "cup of cold
+water given in His name" that was given with a higher, or a deeper sense
+of the Divine spark of God in humanity than I saw that tropical summer
+afternoon, and this water was given by the naked Negrito whom we had
+decided was the lowest human being on the earth. Yet even in this
+animal-man; even in this naked savage; there was a spark of the Divine
+that made us forever have a deeper and a more abiding faith that God
+never did and never shall make a man to live on this old earth that He
+did not have some purpose in making him.
+
+A few days before I took this trip up into the jungles of Luzon to visit
+this Negrito tribe I had received a copy of a slender volume of poems by
+Edna St. Vincent Millay. In the cool beauty of the tropical evening
+preceding this trip I had read the last lines of its introductory poem
+called "Interim"; and these lines came flashing into my mind, even as I
+lay on the hot earth on that Luzon hillside. I can still remember the
+honey dripping like rain from the Cocoanut trees, and I can still hear
+the ceaseless and maddening cry of millions of Locusts that hot day; but
+suddenly came this beautiful outpouring of faith from, the cool depths
+of a woman's woodland soul:
+
+    "Not Truth but Faith, it is
+    That keeps the world alive! If, all at once
+    Faith were to slacken,--that unconscious faith
+    Which must, I know, yet be the corner-stone
+    Of all believing--birds now flying fearless
+    Across would drop in terror to the earth;
+    Fishes would drown; and the all-governing reins
+    Would tangle in the frantic hands of God
+    And the worlds gallop headlong to destruction!"
+
+That day bred new faith into my soul!
+
+I have told this story of the naked Negrito a hundred times since that
+eventful day and it kindles new flames of faith in human hearts every
+time it is repeated! Mr. Edmund Vance Cooke, the poet, heard it in
+Cleveland where I spoke in a Chautauqua programme and he said to me
+several months later in my home at Detroit, Michigan, "That was the most
+thrilling story of the Divine spark in a savage soul that I have ever
+heard! It gave me new faith in God and in humanity!"
+
+These, and a thousand other Flashlights of Faith come flashing out of
+that Far Eastern background; the sublime faith of thousands of college
+men and women who are giving their lives because they believe that
+savages and barbarians, such as I have described in this Negrito; Do
+have that spark of the Divine in their souls; faith that Christian
+civilization, and Christian education; and a Christian God, may awaken
+that spark.
+
+And, indeed many a proof do they have of this miracle! Only the other
+day from an American School, a girl from darkest Africa graduated as a
+Phi Beta Kappa honor scholar. Bishop William A. Taylor picked up this
+girl as a naked child in the jungles of Africa less than a quarter of a
+century ago!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FEAR
+
+
+Quick, short, sharp signals shot down the speaking tube from the bridge.
+
+The Chief Engineer of the _Santa Cruz_ yelled across the boiler room.
+
+The bell rang for reverse and the entire ship shivered.
+
+A woman on deck screamed, and there was a rush to the railings, for the
+old boat had been slowly making its way up the winding, treacherous
+Saigon River out of the China Sea into French Indo-China.
+
+"Those damned Chinks again, trying to escape the Devil!"
+
+"What's the matter, Pop?" some one asked the captain.
+
+"That sampan full of Chinks was trying to get away from the River Devil,
+so they shot across our bow to fool him and we nearly ran them down."
+
+"Do they often indulge in that little friendly game with the Devil?" I
+asked him, smiling at his seriousness.
+
+"Every time we enter one of these rivers they do it. I killed six of
+them going up the river at Shanghai a year ago. It gives me the creeps
+every time I see them shoot across our bow. A ship like this will cut
+'em in two like a knife!"
+
+We looked over the green railing of the _Santa Cruz_. The big ship had
+almost come to a stop for the engines were still in reverse and the
+shallow river mud was churned up until the otherwise clear water looked
+like a muddy pond. The little sampan, full of grinning, naked Chinese
+coolies was fifty feet away from us, and our American sailors were
+swearing at them in every language they knew and shaking big, brawny,
+brown fists in their grinning direction.
+
+It was considered a joke by the passengers but it was a very real thing
+to these poor ignorant Chinese. One sees this happen everywhere in the
+Orient. For the Chinaman starts out every morning in his sampan with the
+worst kind of a River Devil after him. He must rid himself of that
+Devil. So, when a big ship comes into sight, he waits until its bow is
+very close and then darts in front of its pathway. The idea is, that
+when a sampan full of Chinamen shoots in front of a big ship the Devil
+is supposed to follow the ship all that day, and let the Chinese junk or
+sampan alone.
+
+[Illustration: CONFUCIUS' TOMB AT CHUFU, CHINA.]
+
+[Illustration: RUIN OF THE MING TOMBS.
+
+The turtle, the symbol of long life, is almost as common in China as the
+dragon.]
+
+[Illustration: GRINDING RICE IN CHINA.]
+
+[Illustration: A CAMEL TRAIN FROM THE PLAINS OF MONGOLIA ENTERS PEKING
+ON A WINTER'S DAY.]
+
+It is the pest of an American seaman's life, for even a seaman hates to
+see a human being drowned.
+
+To an American mind this seems ridiculous. It even seems humorous. I
+shall never forget how the passengers laughed when the captain told them
+why he had had to reverse his engines to keep from crushing the frail
+Chinese sampan. But suddenly the thought came to one of the passengers;
+that to the poor Chinaman the fear which made him do that foolish thing
+and the fear which made him take that awful risk was very real.
+
+"Under God, the poor Devils must have an awful life if they have such a
+fear as that in their souls day and night!" said an Englishman.
+
+"They never start out for a day's work that they are not haunted every
+minute of that day by a thousand devils, ill-omens, and bad spirits
+which are constantly hovering about to leap on them and kill them!" said
+a missionary. "The whole Orient is full of the thought of fear!"
+
+This missionary was right. Paul Hutchinson, Editor of the _Chinese
+Christian Advocate_ and one of the real literary men of the Americans
+who are permanent residents of Shanghai, told me of a Chinese boy who
+was graduating from a Christian College in Nanking. The boy had been for
+four years under the influence of Americans. He could speak good
+English. He was about ready to go to America to school when he had
+completed his work at Nanking.
+
+He, with a younger brother, was at home for the Christmas vacation. On
+the way back to college the younger brother fell overboard into the
+river. The older brother was not a coward. Everybody will testify to
+that. In fact he was unusually courageous. But in spite of the fact that
+his puny brother was able to swim to the side of the small boat, and in
+spite of the fact that he begged his older and stronger brother to pull
+him back into the boat, that older brother refused to do so.
+
+"Why?"
+
+Mr. Hutchinson says that the English teacher heard the tale in terror,
+but that the brother took it as a matter of course, explaining that the
+River Devil would most certainly have caught and dragged into the water,
+any person who should have dared to attempt a rescue of his brother.
+
+It is an established thing in China; that if a native falls into the
+river, he never gets out unless he pulls himself out. Nobody will help
+him, for if they do, that will incur the wrath of the River God and the
+rescuer also will be dragged down to his death.
+
+It is assumed that if a person falls into the river that is the River
+God pulling him in.
+
+The constant fear of this River God is so deeply intrenched in these
+poor souls that they take no pleasure on the water and they carry their
+sense of fear to such an extent that they will not even attempt a rescue
+of their own babies or loved ones if these happen to fall into the
+water.
+
+Mr. Hutchinson calls attention to Dr. E. D. Soper's book "The Faiths of
+Mankind" in which there is an entire chapter called "Where Fear Holds
+Sway."
+
+"Where is it that fear holds sway?" the reader asks.
+
+The answer is, "In the Orient"!
+
+Yes, the whole Orient is one great gallery of dim, uncertain, weird,
+mysterious Flash-lights of Fear.
+
+Paul Hutchinson says:
+
+    "It is impossible for the Westerner to conceive such an
+    atmosphere until he has lived in it. In fact he may live in it
+    for years and never realize the hold which it has upon his
+    native neighbors. But it is no exaggeration to say that, to the
+    average Chinese, the air is peopled with countless spirits,
+    most of them malignant, all attempting to do him harm. Even a
+    catalogue of the devils, such as have been named by the
+    scholarly Jesuit, Father Dore, is too long for the limits of
+    this article. But there they are, millions of them. They hover
+    around every motion of every waking hour, and they enter the
+    sanctity of sleep. An intricate system of circumnavigating
+    them, that makes the streets twist in a fashion to daze
+    Boston's legendary cow and puts walls in front of doors to
+    belie the hospitality within, runs through the social order."
+
+This fear is even expressed in Chinese architecture.
+
+"Why is that strange wall built in front of every household door and
+even before the Temples?" I asked a friend in China.
+
+"It is put there to fool the devils. They will see that wall and think
+that there is no door and then will go away and not bother that house
+any more," I was told.
+
+The very architecture of the Chinese home is to keep the devils out. The
+strange curves with the graceful upward sweep that makes the roofs so
+beautiful to American eyes is for the purpose of throwing devils of the
+air off the track. They will come down from the skies and start down the
+curve of the roofs but will be turned back into the skies again by the
+upward slant of the twisted roofs.
+
+It was this same terrible sense of fear which developed the old surgical
+system that the Koreans and Chinese used before the arrival of the
+missionaries.
+
+"Do you see these needles?" an American surgeon in Korea asked me one
+day, as he pointed to about a hundred of the most horrible looking
+copper and brass needles lying on a stand.
+
+"Yes," I admitted, mystified.
+
+"I have taken every one of them out of the bodies of human beings on
+whom I have operated here in the hospital."
+
+"Where did you find them?"
+
+"In between the bowels, in the muscles, in the organs of the body, and
+one in the heart of a man who came to me because he couldn't breathe
+very well."
+
+"No wonder the fellow couldn't breathe. I don't think I could myself if
+I had a needle in my blood-pump!" I said with a smile.
+
+"These fancy needles that the old Korean doctors thought a good deal of
+they put a handle on," he continued.
+
+"What was that for?"
+
+"So they wouldn't lose their needles in a body. The other, or common
+needles, they just stuck into the body wherever the wound or sore place
+was and left them there."
+
+"And what, may I ask, was the idea of this playful Korean surgery! Was
+it something like our 'button, button, whose got the button?'"
+
+"No, the idea was that there were devils in the wound. If it was a
+swelling there was a devil in that swelling. If it was typhoid fever,
+and there was pain in the bowels, there was a devil in the inward parts
+affected, and so, after carefully sterilizing the needle by running it
+through his long, black, greasy hair, the native doctor would run it
+into the affected part of the body to kill the devil or let it escape
+from the body."
+
+"The old idea of a fear religion, a fear social life, a fear family life
+and a fear surgery prevails in Korea as it does in China?" I said by way
+of a question.
+
+"It prevails everywhere in the Orient. To me it is the most awful thing
+about working out here. The awful sense of constant fear that is on the
+people always and everywhere."
+
+Pounded-up claws of a tiger; the red horn of a deer; pulverized fish
+bones; roots of trees, pigs' eyes; and a thousand poisons and
+fear-remedies make up the medical history of the Oriental doctor.
+
+"Why do they kill girl babies?"
+
+"Fear!"
+
+"Fear of what?"
+
+"Fear of devils! The devils will be displeased if a girl baby is born.
+Therefore kill the baby.
+
+"Throw the babies out on the ground in the graveyards. Let the dogs eat
+the babies."
+
+I heard the dogs howling in a cemetery one night about two o'clock in
+the morning as I was coming through the thousands of little conical
+mounds, with here and there an unburied coffin.
+
+"The dogs are having a baby feast to-night," said an old missionary.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"To appease the devils."
+
+"My God man; you don't mean that they let the dogs eat their babies
+because they are afraid of the devil?" I cried.
+
+"I mean just that," replied the missionary.
+
+"Fear! Fear! Fear! Everywhere. Fear by night and fear by day. They never
+escape it. It is fear that makes them worship their ancestors. It is
+fear that makes them worship idols. It is fear that makes them kill
+their girl babies. It is fear that makes them build their little narrow
+winding streets, which after a while must become so filthy; fear that if
+they do not, the devils will find them; and if they do build their
+streets narrow and winding the devils will get lost searching for them.
+Oh, God, fear, fear, everywhere! The Orient is full of a terrible and a
+constant fear!"
+
+I looked at my friend astonished. He seldom went into such emotional
+outbursts. He was judicial, calm, poised; some said, cold. But this
+constant sense of fear that was upon the people had finally broken down
+his reserve of poise.
+
+"The chimneys are beautiful. See that beautiful upward dip in the
+architecture. They are like the roofs," I said.
+
+"But that beautiful, symmetrical development did not come out of a sense
+of beauty. It came to fool the devils just as we have said of the roofs.
+The devils will glide off into space and will never be able to get down
+the chimneys." It is so in other Oriental countries.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The same is true in the Philippine Islands. The whole fabric of human
+life is permeated with the black thread of fear.
+
+It is true of China and Korea; it is true of Borneo to a marked degree;
+and it is true of that great mass of conglomerate humanity that we think
+of as India.
+
+These and other flash-lights of fear remain, and shall remain forever in
+my mind. But of a fifty thousand mile trip among hundreds of millions of
+human beings; pictures of fear stand out, blurred here and there; but
+clear enough in outline so that I can still see the human faces against
+a background of midnight darkness.
+
+Three pictures are clearer than the others. Perhaps it was because the
+flash that focused them on the plate of my mind was stronger. Perhaps it
+was, that the plate of my soul was more sensitive the days these
+impressions were focused. But they stand out; three flash-lights of fear
+above all:
+
+One was told me by Zela Wiltsie Worley, a college girl, now a
+missionary's wife, who has known what it means to lie on the floor of
+her home an entire morning with machine gun bullets crashing through
+her home, between the fire of two revolutionary armies.
+
+"I was talking with my Amah--she is the girl who cares for our
+children," said Mrs. Worley.
+
+I nodded that I understood that.
+
+"We were bathing the baby--our first wee kiddie--and the Amah seemed to
+have an unusual inclination to talk. I had been joking with her and
+asked her if she did not want to buy Clara Gene. In fun we started the
+characteristic Chinese haggling over price, she trying to 'jew' me up
+and I trying to 'jew' her down.
+
+"'Oh!' she said, 'girl babies are very expensive the last two or three
+years. Now you have to pay over ten dollars to get a nice fat one!
+Before that, if you did not drown them, you had an awfully hard time to
+get rid of them. There was a man in our town to whom we took the
+babies--the girl babies I mean. He would go up and down the streets with
+them and sell them to any one who would give him a chicken and a bowl of
+rice in return.'
+
+"'But do they drown the girl babies now?' I asked the Amah.
+
+"'Oh, yes, of course, if you already have one or two boys. You know, in
+my village I am the only Christian. My own family and the rest of the
+village worship idols. They are afraid of their gods. They do not know
+any better. Why my sister almost drowned my second little boy by
+mistake. He had just arrived and she thought that he was a girl, and had
+already stuck his head down in a pail of water when I rescued him.'
+
+"'But who usually kills the girl babies?' I asked. 'Surely not the
+mother?'
+
+"'Yes, she does. She is so afraid when she finds it is only a girl,
+afraid that the gods will be angry because she has brought another girl
+into the world, that she kills it!'
+
+"'Do they bury it then?'
+
+"'Sometimes they wrap it up, and throw it under a pile of rubbish. You
+know, we do not have coffins made for any of our babies who die before
+they have had their first teeth! I have seen so many babies drowned,
+Mrs. Worley. I never did like it. They cry so!'
+
+"Then I inquired of our Chinese teacher's wife if she knew of girl baby
+killing still going on in China.
+
+"'Just last week,' this teacher's wife said in answer to my inquiry,
+'the woman next door went back to her village two miles from here and
+she saw her own sister drown a baby while she was there.'
+
+"I asked an English missionary if she knew that this fearful custom was
+still prevalent over most of China with its more than four hundred
+million souls.
+
+"She told me that it was the custom in Ning-daik for the women just to
+throw the girl babies under their beds, and they would 'be gone in a day
+or two.'
+
+"And it is all because of their awful fear that the gods will be
+displeased if they give birth to a girl baby!"
+
+The second outstanding flash-light of fear comes from Java.
+
+In the chapter on Physical Flash-lights I have described the old volcano
+of Bromo. It is a terrible thing to look into. Great fissures in the
+earth, belch thunder, sulphur, fire, and lava. Great rocks as large as
+wagons shoot into the air to the rim of the two hundred-foot crater, and
+then drop back with a crash.
+
+For centuries, and even in these days, clandestinely; I am told by men
+whom I trust; the most beautiful maiden of a certain tribe among the
+Javanese; and some of the most beautiful women I saw in the Orient were
+those soft-skinned, soft-voiced, easy-moving, graceful-limbed,
+swaying-bodied; brown skinned women of Java; she, the fairest of the
+tribe is taken; and with her the strongest limbed youth; he of the
+fibered muscles; he of the iron biceps; he of the clean skin; and the
+two of them are tossed into the belching fiery crater of old Bromo.
+
+"Why?" I asked.
+
+"They think that in that way, they may propitiate the gods of the
+volcano. Their hearts are constantly filled with fear lest the gods of
+the volcano become angry and destroy them," said the missionary.
+
+Then he told me of a trip that they made a year before to the top of one
+of the most inaccessible volcanoes which was then in constant eruption.
+
+"We had a hard time getting native guides. Finally we succeeded. We had
+to travel fifty miles before we reached the mountain. Then we climbed
+five miles up its steep side, cutting our own trail as we made our way
+through the tropical jungle. At last we reached the timber. But before
+we entered the forest one of the guides came to me and, with the most
+pitiable and trembling fear in his voice and face, begged us white
+people not to say anything disrespectful of the mountain; not to joke
+and laugh, and not to sing; for that would make the mountain angry, and
+we would all be killed.
+
+"I saw that he was in deadly earnest, and, while I wanted to laugh I
+looked as solemn as I could, for there was such terror in his face, I
+knew that if I laughed he would turn and run back to civilization.
+
+"An hour later we reached the timber line. Before we entered it the
+first boy fell flat on his face and prayed to the god of the mountain
+asking that god not to hurt them. Then the next boy did likewise; then
+the third and the fourth and the fifth!
+
+"Their faces were almost white with fear when we missionaries did not
+pray. It filled them with terror!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And the last Flash-light of Fear is that of the baby in Medan. The
+Priest lived across the way in a temple.
+
+The baby was sick with whooping-cough. It was the usual, simple case of
+baby sickness that American babies all have, and which is not taken
+seriously here by either doctor or mother.
+
+The mother took the baby to the priest.
+
+The priest took a red hot iron; laid the baby on the church altar and
+ran the iron across its neck, and then across its breast and then across
+its little stomach. Then he laid it on the front steps of the temple.
+
+The baby died after a few hours spent in terrible pain.
+
+Hate the Priest?
+
+No!
+
+Despise the mother?
+
+No!
+
+Pity them!
+
+The priest was honest and the mother was honest. They were doing the
+best thing for the baby that either of them knew. They knew that the
+baby had a devil in its little body and they were merely trying to drive
+that devil out of its body.
+
+Fear! Fear! Fear! Fear of devils in the home, lurking in the shadows of
+night and in the light of day; lurking in the bodies of babies; devils
+everywhere--always.
+
+These are the Flash-lights of Fear!
+
+And like unto them are the pictures of Frightfulness which I have set
+down in the next chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FRIGHTFULNESS
+
+
+"The Jap is the slant-eyed Hun of the Orient. He has a slant-eyed
+ethics, a slant-eyed morality, a slant-eyed honesty, a slant-eyed social
+consciousness; a slant-eyed ambition, a slant-eyed military system; and
+a slant-eyed mind!" said Peter Clarke Macfarlane, the well-known author
+and lecturer, one day when I was interviewing him on the Japanese
+question.
+
+"That's pretty strong, Mr. Macfarlane, in the light of your usual
+conservatism," I commented.
+
+"I say it carefully and after much thought. It is said to stay said so
+far, as I am concerned," he added with finality.
+
+This was also my own opinion, after spending three months in Japan and
+Korea, another month in China; and another month or two in Manila;
+catching the angle of Japanese leadership from every slant.
+
+And after due consideration, and after a year to think it over
+carefully, I am here to say, that I never saw, or heard of anything
+worse happening in Belgium under German rule than that which I saw and
+heard of happening under Japanese rule in Korea, Siberia and Formosa,
+while I was in the Orient.
+
+Suffice it is to say, at this point, that the Japanese is hated by the
+whole Orient. I do not believe that the German Hun in his worst day was
+ever hated more unanimously for his inhuman practices than is the Jap
+Hun hated by the whole Orient to-day.
+
+"Is it getting better or worse?" I am asked constantly.
+
+"Worse!" I reply, and this reply is backed up by interviews I have had
+with returned Korean missionaries.
+
+I found the Japanese scorned and hated from one end of the Orient to the
+other. As far south as Java, as far east as the Suez; as far north as
+the uttermost reaches of Manchuria and Siberia; as far this direction as
+Hawaii.
+
+For instance, after I had been away from Korea for six months and had
+come back to America I met a most conservative missionary in the Romona
+Hotel in San Francisco. The last time previous to that meeting that I
+had seen him was in Korea itself.
+
+I said to him "Are things better or worse in Korea?"
+
+His reply was, "Worse than they have ever been; generally speaking!" I
+have no intention and no desire to further augment ill feeling between
+America and Japan. In fact I do not fear anything like war in that
+direction; but I do have an intense feeling of responsibility about
+telling my readers the plain and simple truth that the whole Far Eastern
+world hates Japan.
+
+If that thought itself can get into the mind of America, this country
+will understand, at least, that there is some fault that lies back in
+the Japanese military policy and character itself. It hardly seems
+possible, with ten races and five different countries hating Japan; that
+Japan herself is not mostly to blame. When a matter of hatred is so
+unanimous among all races in that part of the world, it is likely that
+the fault lies with the race and nation which has the hatred of so many
+types of people focused on its actions.
+
+While I was in Java some high dignitaries in the Japanese Navy arrived
+in Batavia. The Chinese Coolies who live in Batavia absolutely refused
+to carry any Japanese officers or sailors in their Rickshas. It was a
+striking indictment of the Japanese nation.
+
+In Singapore the distrust and hatred of the Japanese is unanimous. In
+the Philippines it is the same. In Hongkong you see few Japanese. They
+are not wanted and they are not trusted. In Shanghai, and Peking it is
+the same. The Student Movement, one of the most powerful weapons that
+has ever arisen in any nation in the world, has focused the Chinese
+sentiment against selfish Japanese aggression in China.
+
+The Japanese officials laughed at the Student Boycott of Japanese goods
+when it first started. But in a year they were trembling in the face of
+that boycott. I was in Tientsin, and Peking during the days of the
+Student Street Demonstrations. They were like American demonstrations.
+
+Keen, alert, intelligent Chinese boys addressed the crowds admonishing
+them not to buy Japanese goods in Chinese shops. The pressure became so
+strong that all Chinese merchants from the lowest shopkeeper up to the
+owner of the great chain stores, like our Woolworth institutions, put
+away Japanese-made goods and refused to sell them.
+
+I took dinner in Shanghai with one of the foremost merchant princes of
+China and said, "Are you selling any Japanese-made goods?"
+
+"I certainly am not. I am not powerful enough with all my millions of
+money and all of my chain of stores to take such a chance as that. I
+have put all of my Japanese goods in the cellar."
+
+The Boycott against Japanese goods in China became so powerful that in
+Tientsin, while I was there, the Japanese Consul complained bitterly to
+the Governor of the Province and the Governor who was said to be under
+the influence of Japanese money, arrested a lot of students. There was
+one of the most determined and terrible riots that I have ever seen. It
+was war. It was not like any mild American riot. It was war to the
+death. Several students were killed and finally the pressure was so
+strong that even this Japanese Agent was compelled to release the
+imprisoned students. I shall quote from an editorial that I was asked to
+write for the Peking _Leader_ during my stay in China:
+
+    The weapon which most worries the Japanese I should say, is the
+    boycott that the Students Movement has inaugurated. The
+    Japanese Government never had anything that quite worried it so
+    much. It is a weapon that is worth a thousand battleships, or
+    fifty divisions of soldiers. It is a weapon that will, if
+    continuously, and consistently and faithfully used, bring a
+    money-loving nation, like Japan to her knees, and send her
+    finally, scurrying like a whipped cur, with her tail between
+    her legs back home where she belongs.
+
+I talked with a ragged Chinese boy through an interpreter just to find
+what his reactions to the Japanese were. He was a beggar. He said, "The
+Japanese has a heart like a dog and a liver like a wolf."
+
+I quote again from the editorial in the Peking _Leader_:
+
+    All day I have been on the streets of Peking listening to
+    groups of students discussing the all absorbing-question of
+    the Boycott. I have not understood the characters printed on
+    their banners, but I have understood the light in Young China's
+    eyes. I can understand that language and that light, for it is
+    the language and the light of freedom, justice, liberty! I am
+    an American. I understand that light when I see it; and I know
+    also; that it is a light that can never be snuffed out. It is a
+    light that prison walls cannot hide and that the brute hand of
+    the invader cannot dim.
+
+"And what are they protesting against?" is the question asked.
+
+Primarily against the Japanese control of Shantung. Secondarily,
+against a type of civilization which Japan represents; a civilization
+that uses the weapons of frightfulness to accomplish its ends; a
+civilization that steals a nation like Korea, compelling the abdication
+of a weak Emperor at the point of the bayonet; and then using the avowed
+method of extermination to deplete a subjected nation. The whole Orient
+knows Japan and knows the methods that Japan has used and is using in
+conquered territory. It is a continuous and continual policy of
+extermination, frightfulness, and assimilation. This is the underlying
+cause of the hatred of the whole Orient and the Far and Near East
+against Japan; and this is the fundamental reason for the Students'
+Boycott of Japanese goods in China.
+
+One might devote an entire book to narrations of frightful cruelties
+perpetrated by Japanese on Koreans, Siberians and Formosans; but that
+would not be so strong as the setting forth of the underlying ethical
+reasons for this universal hatred in which Japan is held.
+
+However it might be quite honest and fair for this writer to set down
+here several acts of frightfulness that came under his own personal
+observation merely as casual illustrations of that which is going on all
+the time.
+
+One day I was walking with a missionary's wife through the streets of
+Seoul. There was an excavation being made and a little railroad track
+was being run along this excavation. A Korean boy had been set to guard
+this track to keep folks from getting hurt when the dump car came down
+its steep grade. He had been ordered by his Japanese employers to stop
+all passage when the signal was given.
+
+We were walking along when this Korean stopped an ordinary Japanese
+civilian. He was of the low-browed type; mentally deficient I should
+say; but quite the average type that is used by Japan to settle these
+conquered countries.
+
+The Korean held up his hands in warning.
+
+The Japanese stooped over, picked up a stone as large as a cabbage head
+and, with only a space of two feet between himself and the Korean,
+threw it with all his force against the cheek of the Korean and smashed
+his jaw in, tearing his ear off, breaking his jaw bone, and lacerating
+his face fearfully. It was one of the most inhuman things that I have
+ever seen done.
+
+The missionary woman said to the Korean when the Jap ran; "Why do you
+not report this to the Japanese police?"
+
+"It would do no good. They would give no justice to me, and I would be
+hounded to my death for reporting it."
+
+One evening with a friend I had been speaking in Pyeng Yang. It was
+midnight one Sunday and we were waiting for a train down to Seoul. As we
+stood on the platform waiting; a north-bound train came in. It stopped.
+As it stopped several Japanese train boys got off of the train. An old
+white-haired Korean gentleman, about seventy-five years of age, stood on
+the platform waiting for the train. He was intelligent looking; poised;
+and well-dressed in the usual immaculately white robes.
+
+A fifteen-year old Japanese train boy, seeing him standing there,
+deliberately ran out of his way, lowered his shoulders like a football
+charger and ran squarely into the old man, knocking him down to the
+platform and ran on with a laugh and some muttered Japanese words.
+
+The dignified Korean gentleman got up, brushed the dirt from his
+clothes; did not even deign to glance at the offending boy; and walked
+on as if nothing had happened.
+
+This scene illustrates two things: First, the superiority of the Korean
+mind and character to that of the Japanese. This is one of the causes of
+the extreme frightfulness pursued by the Japanese. They instinctively
+feel the superiority of their captives. It is not the first time in
+history that a lesser nation has conquered a superior people.
+
+This superiority in soul-stuff that the Korean has over that of the
+Japanese is recognized immediately by all Europeans and Americans who
+become, even in the least bit, familiar with the two peoples. The
+sympathy of Christian civilizations is with the Koreans immediately.
+
+The other thing that this simple scene illustrates, is the spirit of
+ruthless cruelty and frightfulness that is bred in the very soul of the
+youth of Japan toward the Koreans. Even the train boys can do a thing
+like that without fear of punishment.
+
+The first day that we were in Seoul, the capital city of Korea, Pat
+McConnell and myself were walking down the main street of this
+interesting city toward the depot. Parallel with us marched a squad of
+Japanese soldiers. In front of them, going the same direction, was a
+poor Korean workman pushing a small cart that looked like our American
+wheelbarrow.
+
+The Japanese soldiers were in formation and marching in the middle of a
+wide street. But deliberately; evidently with orders from their officer
+in charge; they edged over to that side of the street where the Korean
+was walking and pushed him into the curb stone, kicking his barrow as
+they passed, although this meant a useless swerving of, at least,
+fifteen feet out of their course to do so. It was a case of deliberate
+brutality.
+
+"Korea is a land of trails and terraces," said a prominent missionary in
+that fair spot to me one day as we were riding from Fusan to Seoul.
+
+"And terror," added another traveler from America. "It is a land of
+trails, terraces, and terror!"
+
+One day a friend of mine was begging Baron Saito, the present
+Governor-General of Korea, to stop the cruelties of the Japanese
+gendarmes in villages in northern Korea. The Baron asked for the names
+of those who had given the missionary his information about the
+cruelties and he refused to give them.
+
+"Why should you not give them?" asked Baron Saito.
+
+"Because they would be killed for complaining," said the missionary.
+
+Then he told Governor-General Saito how he had once complained to the
+police department when a father and son were cruelly beaten in prison.
+
+"Give me their names," said the gendarme.
+
+"I will if you will give me a promise that they will be protected."
+
+"No! I cannot do that! The gendarmes are very revengeful!"
+
+I know personally of a Korean preacher who has done no greater crime
+than to attend a meeting at a dinner given for released Korean
+prisoners. He was arrested and kept in jail for three days, just for
+attending that dinner.
+
+Another preacher with whom I talked was suspected of collecting money
+eight months after the March Independence Movement. When he heard that
+the Japanese police were coming for him he fled. This angered the
+police. They appeared the next morning at three o'clock at his home.
+There were only the mother and a twelve-year-old daughter left. First
+the gendarmes burst in the frail doors with the butts of their rifles,
+and then from three o'clock in the morning until daylight, they beat and
+tortured those two helpless Christian Korean women; kicking them all
+over the house until they were unconscious. These two Korean women were
+in bed for two weeks because of that night's experience and were not
+able to walk for a much longer period than that.
+
+And these women were educated, cultured women. They had committed no
+crime. It was simply because they did not know where the father was.
+
+Later the father and son were arrested. They were beaten cruelly in the
+process of arrest although they offered no resistance. The son later
+said to me, "I could stand it to be beaten myself and even to see my
+father beaten but the unbearably cruel thing was to know that they had
+beaten my innocent mother and sister when no man was there to protect
+them."
+
+I cite this instance because it happened eight months after the
+Independence Movement, and three months after the so-called reform
+Government of Baron Saito had been in effect and after the Japanese
+Press had said to the world that all cruelties had ceased.
+
+A case of frightfulness that was called to my attention; which seemed to
+me to be the very essence of cruelty was that of the moral terrorizing
+of an educated Korean Pastor, whom the police merely suspected of having
+had something to do with the Independence Movement. They had no direct
+evidence but submitted him to months of moral terrorizing which was the
+worst I have ever heard of.
+
+For months at a stretch they would suddenly appear outside of his home
+and thrust their bayonets through his doors. Then they would go away
+without saying a word. He had absolutely no redress. If he had
+complained, he would have been thrown into prison.
+
+One of the most reliable missionaries that I met in Korea told me of how
+one morning the policemen came to a church in northern Korea during the
+hour of service. They broke eighty windows, arrested fourteen men,
+smashed the little organ with their gun butts, smashed a beautiful lamp,
+tore up the mat seats from the floors, and burned them in front of the
+church.
+
+At the funeral service of another young Korean preacher, Pak Suk Han in
+Pyeng Yang, hundreds of Japanese soldiers appeared with drawn bayonets
+just to terrorize the people. The church was full of Japanese officers
+with drawn swords.
+
+"What would have happened if somebody in a fit of patriotism had shouted
+'Mansei'?" I asked.
+
+"We would have been killed instantly!" said the missionary soberly. "I
+was afraid of that!"
+
+A prominent, educated and English-speaking Korean official, told me that
+in a conversation with a high Japanese official that that particular
+Japanese had said "Our plan will be to assimilate the Korean people!"
+
+"But that will be impossible. There are twenty million of us. You will
+find that a hard thing to do!" said this Korean.
+
+The Japanese official smiled and said significantly, "We know the way!"
+
+The Korean knew what that meant. It meant extermination; extermination
+in every way possible. It meant extermination by introducing
+prostitution in Korea. This has been done. Korea never had any legalized
+prostitution. Korea never knew what the Red Light Section meant. Japan's
+first move was to introduce that. She sent her diseased women to Korea.
+She made prostitution ridiculously cheap; fifty sen; which is
+twenty-five cents in American money.
+
+"Why?"
+
+It is one of her ways of assimilation which means extermination and she
+has already shot venereal disease rates up to an alarming state in
+Korea.
+
+Her next step in frightfulness was to introduce opium. Japanese Agents
+raise thousands of acres of Opium in Korea and sell it. This is another
+one of her steps in the process of assimilation or extermination.
+
+Japan has stolen from poor Koreans their rice lands and their coal beds.
+The process is for a Japanese company to buy the water sources of the
+rice paddies below and then refuse to let the Koreans have water for his
+rice fields. This is another step in frightfulness that will finally
+exterminate the Korean if it keeps up long enough.
+
+The recent massacre of Koreans in Manchuria by Japanese soldiers
+illustrate the Japanese spirit.
+
+This same policy of frightfulness is carried on in Formosa and in
+Siberia and wherever the Japanese army and gendarme system has
+authority. It is worse than anything that the Germans ever did in France
+or Belgium. It has its only parallel in the dark ages.
+
+I told Baron Saito, Governor-General of Korea this in an interview. He
+wanted to know what America thought of Japan's rule in Korea. I said:
+"America and the whole civilized world is stirred with indignation at
+the Japanese rule in Korea. There has been nothing like it since the
+dark ages." Then I read him a quotation from an editorial in _Zion's
+Herald_, a church paper published in Boston with virtually those words
+in it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+My friend, whom I met first in France, when he came back from. France
+was sent to Siberia as a Captain in the American Army.
+
+I met him in Manila just after he had returned from Siberia. He, in
+common with all Americans who had seen the Japanese methods of
+frightfulness in Siberia, was filled with hatred.
+
+"One night," he said, "a company of Japanese soldiers entered the
+little village six hundred miles north of Vladivostok where we were
+located. They announced that they were hunting for Bolsheviks.
+
+"They did not find any in the little village, although they ruthlessly
+broke down every door of every home in that village. Then they went out
+to a sawmill about three miles from town and brought in five boys
+between the ages of twelve and eighteen.
+
+"After torturing these boys in an old box car for two days, hanging them
+up by the thumbs with their arms behind their backs until they were
+unconscious; and then forcing salt water, hot water, cold water, and
+water with pepper in it down their nostrils, alternately; and other
+added cruelties; they announced to the village that they would release
+them that night on the public square."
+
+"Did they do it?" I asked anxiously, for I was stirred to my soul's
+depths with his narration of cruelties in Siberia.
+
+"Yes, they released them; in this way:
+
+"They called all the friends and families of the prisoners together on
+the public square. Then they dug five graves. Then five Japanese
+officers came stalking across the public square, whisking at the
+thistle-tops with swords as they came; and then walked up to these
+innocent Russian boys, and whacked off their heads.
+
+"Had they been tried?" I asked indignantly.
+
+"They had been given no trial. They were mere boys, who, probably,
+didn't even know what the word Bolshevik meant. It was the worst
+illustration of frightfulness that I ever saw, although it was a common
+thing for the Japanese troops to go through the country upsetting the
+barrels of honey that the poor peasants were saving up for the long
+winters; rooting up their young potatoes; cutting the throats of their
+colts and cattle, and ravishing the land."
+
+"How could you stand it?"
+
+"We couldn't stand it. I had to fight to keep my company of Americans
+from sailing into them with fists and bayonets. It would have meant war.
+So I sent word back to headquarters that we were out of provisions and
+we were called back to Vladivostok."
+
+Can this scene be duplicated in Formosa and Korea, where the Japanese
+hold sway?
+
+It can.
+
+During the Independence Movement in Korea this thing happened: All of
+the Korean Christians had been asked to assemble in a church for a
+meeting. When they were all in the church, the Japanese gendarme set
+fire to the church and then fired into it, killing every man.
+
+A woman, big with child, came running toward the church having heard the
+shooting and knowing that her husband was within.
+
+A big, burly Japanese pushed her back.
+
+"What do you want?" he cried in Korean.
+
+"I want to go in there. My husband is there," she cried in terror.
+
+"But you will be killed if you go in there!"
+
+"I don't care! I want to die if he is to die!"
+
+"All right! You shall have your wish!" said the Japanese, and pulling
+out his sword, cut off her head, killing her instantly. She fell at his
+feet with her unborn child; and he laughed aloud at the spectacle.
+
+This is Japanese frightfulness and it can be duplicated by many
+missionaries in Korea if they dared to speak.
+
+But the minute they speak and tell the truth that minute they are sent
+home from their life work. They realize that this leaves the Koreans to
+the utter and awful cruelties of the barbarous Japanese, and because of
+this, in spite of their indignation they hold their tongues for the
+larger good. But they eagerly give the facts to those of us who are
+coming back to America so that America in turn may know what is going on
+in Korea. That is the only hope; that the indignation of a righteous
+world, without war, may bring pressure to bear on Japan to stop these
+terrible cruelties and tortures; this unutterable frightfulness. This
+is the hope of the missionaries; this is the only hope of the Koreans!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I don't know whether or not it was because I had been listening for so
+long to the most brutal stories of Japanese treatment of Korean men,
+women and children; with murder, rapine, burning of homes, especially
+Christian homes; beating of a mother and her twelve-year-old girl from
+three in the morning until eight to make them reveal the hiding-place of
+their preacher daddy, that the crimson, blood-red sunset I witnessed on
+my last night in Korea seemed to me like a "sunset of crimson wounds."
+All I know is that it happened in Korea while I was there, and that my
+soul had been, for a solid month, stirred to the depths of its righteous
+wrath over the things that I had heard first-hand from human lips.
+
+But there it was. The sky was blood-red. At first it was black, a somber
+black. Not a coal-black but a slate black. Then suddenly just at the
+edge of the horizon a crack began to appear. It was a slit of blood. It
+looked more like a wound than anything else I ever saw. The slit of
+blood grew larger and larger in the slate-black clouds.
+
+Then suddenly all over the horizon these wounds began to break through
+the mass of black clouds. Some of these slits were horizontal slits,
+and some of them ran in graceful curves. Some of them looked as if a
+bayonet had been lunged into the body of that somber cloud and a great
+crimson gash was made with ragged edges as big as a house. Then it
+looked as if some ruthless Japanese gendarme had taken his sword and
+slashed a rip in the abdomen of that sky; and from side to side like a
+crescent moon appeared this great crimson wound.
+
+I had never seen a sunset just like it. But there it was. It seemed that
+there was back of that great black cloud a blood-red planet, pouring its
+crimson tides like a great waterfall down back of that slate-black mass
+until finally the curtain of black began to tear, and the blood poured
+through to run along the horizon, and splash against the clouds, and
+slit its way like wounds through the clouds of night.
+
+And I thought of something else. I thought how a Man once was crucified.
+I thought how dark the skies were on that afternoon. I thought how
+slate-colored and somber all life seemed, especially to that little
+group of disciples. I thought of the wounds in His hands and feet and
+side. I thought of the wounds the thorns in His crown made, and of the
+blood that ran over His face. I could see Him there back of that cloud
+in Korea. I could see His Christian people being crucified again
+because of their religion. I could see Japanese bayonets thrust into His
+side and Japanese nails through His feet and His hands. I could see a
+Japanese crown of thorns on His head because He said, "Inasmuch as ye
+have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren ye have done it
+unto me." And I could see the blood of his wounds breaking through that
+nation's clouds on that wonder evening of the "sunset of wounds" back of
+the Korean mountains in December.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+FEMININE FLASH-LIGHTS
+
+
+"Oriental women are fascinating to Occidental men," said a newspaper
+reporter in a Shanghai hotel lobby, a year ago.
+
+"All women are fascinating to Occidental men. Take the French girls and
+the way they captured our American soldiers; of course, these
+brown-eyed, brown-skinned, graceful, mysterious----"
+
+"It's just as I said," replied the first speaker interrupting the second
+speaker, "Oriental girls are more fascinating to Occidental men than
+white girls."
+
+"Yes--I guess you are right, when we get down to the honest to goodness
+truth of the thing," said an American oil man. "Take that Javanese girl
+who knocked at the door of my room; or take that half-breed Malay girl
+we met on the ship between Singapore and Batavia; or that little
+red-cheeked Japanese girl in Tokyo; or that Spanish brunette in Manila;
+or--Oh, Boy! Do you remember that Chinese half-breed, with English blood
+in her veins and an English education in her brain and Paris clothes on
+her back, and American pep in her eyes, and Japanese silk stockings on
+her----"
+
+"Come on! Come on! We didn't call on you for a lecture on Oriental girls
+whom you have met," said the first speaker.
+
+Then a bell boy paged me and I lost the rest of the conversation.
+
+But this dialogue set me to thinking on the various types of fascinating
+Oriental women; the standing they have in the world; and the status of
+their living.
+
+There were the Japanese women; beautiful, graceful, red-cheeked, small
+of stature, wistful-eyed, colorfully dressed; always smiling slaves to
+their men.
+
+The well-trained Geisha girl has, for centuries, because of her superior
+education, received the confidences of Japanese men; while a Japanese
+man would scorn to talk things over with his wife.
+
+There was the banquet we attended at the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo. Mr.
+Uchida, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and many of the high officials
+of Japan were present with their wives. Several members of the House of
+Parliament were present as well as the Secretary to Mr. Hara, the Prime
+Minister. Each of these great leaders of Japan had his wife by his side
+at the banquet table.
+
+It was a small group.
+
+One of the speakers of the evening said: "Perhaps you Americans do not
+realize that this banquet is an unusual occasion in Japan. I think that
+it is the first time that I have ever attended a banquet in all my life,
+when so many Japanese gentlemen had their own wives with them at that
+banquet. It is a very unusual thing to do, but I hope that, in time, it
+will become more common in Japan, as it is in America."
+
+This speech was met with amused laughter on the part of the Japanese
+gentlemen present; but laughter that was kindly; and it was met with
+applause on the part of the Americans present.
+
+It was typical of the attitude of even the educated Japanese man toward
+the matter of appearing in public with his wife at his side.
+
+Up in Sapporo, on the island of Hokkaido, we were entertained by a
+beautiful Japanese woman. We had been away from America for several
+months and were tired of eating Japanese food, so when we were invited
+to this Japanese home for a dinner we groaned.
+
+But much to our delight, when we sat down we had as fine an American
+dinner as any of us had ever eaten.
+
+I turned to our hostess, a most beautiful Japanese woman; the wife of
+the Dean of the College at Sapporo; and said: "Do you have servants who
+know how to cook American food?"
+
+"No, I cooked it all myself!" she said much to my surprise with a bow
+and a smile.
+
+And there she sat, cool and poised after having cooked food enough for
+fifteen people that morning; and arranging for it to be served in the
+finest style; with place cards, salted almonds, Turkey, pudding,
+vegetables and everything that makes an American dinner good; including
+a fine salad. There she sat; as cool, calm and collected as if servants
+had done all of the work that morning instead of she herself.
+
+And never in all of my life have I seen a more gracious hostess. She
+watched the wants of every guest. She noted which guests liked a special
+food, and saw to it that they had plenty of that particular food; and,
+in addition to this she kept a fascinating line of conversation going
+constantly during the meal.
+
+"Do you live in American fashion or Japanese fashion?" I asked her,
+knowing that she had been educated in America.
+
+"Both!" was her reply. "We have Japanese rooms for our Japanese guests
+and American rooms for our European and American guests."
+
+"But how do you live yourselves; how are you training your children?" I
+asked her.
+
+"We are training our daughters to live in American style; on a common
+ground with the men. That is the better way. That is the fairer way!
+That is the way out of our feminine darkness!"
+
+She said it quietly, with poise, and with a fine assurance which was
+thrilling. It sounded like a call to battle, like a trumpet note in the
+new freedom for women.
+
+A missionary friend told me at the conclusion of that meal that this
+beautiful young Japanese hostess whispered to her Mother-in-law during
+the dinner a phrase that sounded strangely like American slang, when she
+noted that her mother-in-law was not carrying on much of a conversation
+with the man beside her, "Start something! He can speak Japanese as well
+as English!"
+
+At that, dear Mrs. Mother-in-law started an animated conversation in
+Japanese with her silent guest on her left. This was illustrative of the
+care with which our hostess was watching that we be kept happy at her
+table. It was a Feminine Flash-light that I do not care to forget; an
+illustration of the possible efficiency, poise, grace, beauty and
+sweetness of the Japanese woman of the future when she shall have won
+her rights of freedom from the slavery of an inferior position to man in
+the social scale.
+
+To an American, the position of woman in regard to prostitution in Japan
+is a terrible thing, but when we consider the light in which the
+Ethical thought of Japan sees it, we do not blame the women any more
+than Jesus blamed the woman taken in adultery in his day.
+
+The system of prostitution is run by the Government and the largest
+income that the Government has, comes from the sale of Sake, the
+national drink, and its houses of prostitution.
+
+A woman who becomes a Prostitute is looked upon as a heroine. This is
+for the simple reason that she is given a matter of several hundred yen,
+it depending upon her form, beauty and qualifications for her position;
+and that money goes to her poor parents. When she leaves her little
+village to give a certain number of the years of her life to the
+Yoshiwara in order to free her parents from debt she is lauded and feted
+by the people of her village and sent off as one who goes on a crusade
+of service.
+
+Prostitution is so much a part of the acknowledged life of Japan that
+Temples for prostitutes exist where they may go and pray. In one Temple
+we saw large numbers of photographs put up by certain girls of the
+Yoshiwara to advertise their wares.
+
+Consequently there is no fine tradition of ethical values established in
+Japan and the poor girl herself is not to blame. Nor is she blamed; for
+it is not at all an uncommon thing for a Japanese girl to marry out of
+a house of prostitution into a fine family.
+
+One of the terrible Feminine Flash-lights that every careful traveler
+discovers in the Orient is the presence of Japanese girls in the
+segregated sections of Shanghai, Seoul, Peking, Nanking; and even so far
+away as Singapore. I understand however that a recent order from the
+Emperor has called all these girls back to Japan, which is an upward
+step not only for Japan as a nation; but for the womankind of Japan.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was in a Japanese Hotel in northern China that Pat McConnell and I
+had our experience with the strange ways and customs of Japan. Pat was
+taking the pictures and I was writing the stories.
+
+We thought it would be an unusual experience to stay all night at a
+regular Japanese Inn. We stayed.
+
+That night, much to the amusement, of the missionaries who stayed with
+us, three beautiful Japanese girls came gracefully into the cold room
+where we had started to take our clothes off.
+
+They bowed several times as they came with cups of hot tea.
+
+They seemed to pay particular attention to me.
+
+All three of them bowed to me first and then each proceeded to select an
+individual man to whom they served tea.
+
+I took it for granted that they had paid this particular attention to me
+because of some special characteristic of masculine beauty or
+intellectual appearance; or atmosphere of greatness that must have
+hovered about me in some unknown fashion.
+
+I made the mistake of swelling up with pride and bragging about this
+attention that I had received.
+
+"Ah, that's because of your bald head. They think that you are the old
+man of the party. They have great respect for old age!" the missionary
+said with a roar of laughter.
+
+The truth of the matter was that I was the youngest of the party, but
+those girls had selected me as the venerable member of the group of
+Americans.
+
+But the climax came when these young ladies decided to stay with us "To
+the bitter end" as Pat called it.
+
+After filling us with tea they still remained; bowing and smiling; even
+though they could not understand a word we were saying nor we a word
+that they were saying.
+
+"It's one o'clock now! I'd like to get to bed," said Pat.
+
+"How long will they stay with us?" I asked.
+
+The missionaries only grinned in reply.
+
+"By George, I'm going to take my shirt off and see if they won't go!"
+said Pat.
+
+He took it off. The young girl who was serving him took his shirt and
+after neatly folding it, laid it carefully away.
+
+"So that's what they're waiting for; to undress us?" queried Pat and the
+missionaries laughed again, waiting to see what would happen.
+
+"They can go as far as they like. If they can stand it, I can!" said
+Pat.
+
+Then he took off his shoes.
+
+A young lady took the shoes, carefully brushed them off, and put them
+away. Then he took off socks, followed by his trousers.
+
+It looked as they would stay until Pat got into his Pajamas. He was in a
+corner.
+
+"It seems as if this young lady wants to put me to bed right!" said Pat,
+with a grin.
+
+"That's exactly what she is here for. It's a hotel custom in Japanese
+hotels and we get so that we don't think anything of it. They bathe in
+the same pool; men and women alike; and think nothing of it. After all,
+modesty is not entirely a matter of clothes, as the Japanese prove."
+
+"Anyhow, that's what I call service!" said Pat with a grin.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a cold winter night in Seoul, Korea. I had been invited to dinner
+at a Korean home; the home of a former Governor under the Korean
+regime; and now, a respected official under the Japanese rule.
+
+I had looked forward to this dinner with unusual interest.
+
+We took Rickshas to get there and nearly froze on the way.
+
+We took both our shoes and our coats off on the back porch and left them
+to the tender mercies of the zero weather which prevailed on that night.
+
+We were ushered into this beautiful home.
+
+A room was full of men; stately sons of the family; the gray-bearded,
+dignified father; but no women, not a single woman. I wondered about
+this, for I knew that this household was noted for its beautiful
+daughters and a wonderful mother. The missionaries had told me that.
+
+I wondered why no women came to welcome me.
+
+Finally we sat down to one of those interminable Oriental dinners, with
+thirty or forty courses; squatted on our haunches, on the cold floor;
+half-frozen, cramped and uncomfortable.
+
+Then in came a beautiful girl. She was beautiful in every sense of the
+word; physically and spiritually. There was a touch of refinement about
+her which made me know that she had received an English education.
+
+But she was not there for any part of the dinner. Not at all. She was
+there merely to serve.
+
+I found that she could speak English and every time she came to serve
+me, I took the opportunity of talking with her; taking a chance on
+whether it was diplomatic for me to do so or not. I was after
+information.
+
+"You speak good English?" I said. "Why do you not sit down and eat with
+us?"
+
+She laughed aloud.
+
+"My father would drop over dead if I did. It is not the custom in Korea
+for the women of the family to dine with the men on an occasion like
+this. We eat alone in the kitchen."
+
+"Have you a mother?"
+
+"Yes, but she is in the kitchen."
+
+"Will I not get to meet her before I go?"
+
+"Perhaps? Perhaps not. If you meet her at all it will be just at the
+close, of the evening, providing my father thinks to call her. It is not
+important; so our Korean men think."
+
+"But you; you know better? You have been in an American School?" I said,
+as she came in for the fifteenth course and paused a moment to talk with
+me.
+
+"Yes, I know better! I know the American way of treating women is the
+Christian way," she said sadly.
+
+"And what do you think of that way? Do you not like that way better
+than the Korean way?" I asked.
+
+"The American way is much better." Then she paused and much to my
+delight used a typical American girl's phrase, with an appealing touch
+of pathos in her voice and a blush of crimson in her brown cheeks, "Why,
+I just love the American way!" she said and then fled, blushing with
+shame, as if she had said something immodest.
+
+I did not see her again that evening. Nor did I see any of the other
+women of that household. Nor did I see the mother of the home at all.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was in a Shanghai hospital. I was sitting beside an American
+newspaper friend who was at the head of the Chinese Information Bureau.
+He was a world-vagabond. Beside his bed sat a beautiful Chinese girl,
+who had been educated in England and whose mother was a Scotch woman.
+Her father was a full-blooded Chinese.
+
+"I love her but she won't marry me!" said my friend suddenly looking up
+toward the Chinese girl.
+
+[Illustration: THE TEMPLE OF HEAVEN, PEKING.
+
+Long before a single cathedral had been built in Europe this beautiful
+structure was erected.]
+
+[Illustration: A BEAUTIFUL THIRTEEN STORY PAGODA NEAR PEKING.]
+
+[Illustration: MILLIONS OF WAYSIDE TEMPLES AND SHRINES ADORN THE FIELDS
+AND HIGHWAYS EVERYWHERE IN JAPAN, KOREA, AND CHINA. THIS IS ONE OF THEM.
+A SHRINE AND A TEMPLE.]
+
+[Illustration: A SUNRISE SILHOUETTE PHOTOGRAPH OF SOME OF THE HUNDREDS
+OF BELLS OF BUDDHA ON BOROBOEDOER, JAVA.]
+
+She was a beautiful girl and could play a piano as few American women I
+have met. She would have graced any social room in America with her dark
+beauty, her brown eyes, and her Oriental fire. She was rich. Her father
+was worth several millions; being one of many shrewd Chinese business
+men. She was dressed like a Parisian model, in the latest European
+styles. She was in China for the first time in her life. Her father had
+brought her back to marry a Chinese boy. She did not love him. She did
+love my American friend.
+
+"Why will you not marry James?" I asked her.
+
+"My father would kill me," she said quietly.
+
+"Does he say so?"
+
+"He does. He went to America a week ago; and the last thing he said was,
+'If you marry anything but a Chinese I will kill you!'"
+
+"Did he really mean it?" I asked her, astonished.
+
+"He meant it more than anything he ever meant in his life. It would be
+considered a disgrace to my entire family if I married anybody but a
+Chinese boy."
+
+"Even though your father married a Scotch woman?" I said.
+
+"For that very reason it is imperative that I marry my own blood," she
+said.
+
+"That is terrible!" I replied catching my first glimpse of the strange
+and terrible social position in which a girl of mixed blood is placed in
+China.
+
+"You see," she said in a quiet, refined voice, with a marked English
+accent, "I have an English education but I have Chinese blood. I can
+never be happy marrying a Chinese after I have been educated in
+England. I can never be happy with Chinese clothes, Chinese customs, and
+Chinese people. And yet if I marry the man I love, it will break my
+father's heart. He would kill me to be sure; for if he says he will,
+that means that he will keep his word. But that would not be the worst
+of it. To die would be easy."
+
+"What would be the worst of it?" I asked, my heart stirred with a
+strangely deep sympathy at this beautiful Chinese girl's dilemma.
+
+"The worst thing would be that it would break my father's heart!"
+
+Then she wept.
+
+That was my first glimpse of the life of tragedy through which a
+half-breed woman of the Orient has to go.
+
+I met them in the Philippines, with Spanish and American blood running
+in their veins; I met Malay girls whose fathers had been German or
+English; I met Dyak girls whose fathers had been Dutch; and Javanese
+girls whose fathers had been either American, English or Dutch.
+
+I stayed with such a woman in a home in Borneo. She had been a Dyak
+girl. Yet she did not look it. She had a beautiful home with beautiful
+English speaking children. I met her in the interior of Borneo a hundred
+miles from a single white woman. And yet in this far interior; living
+with her English husband who was the head of a mining project; she was
+keeping intact the English education of her children. There was a piano
+and the children played beautifully while the mother, in a rich
+contralto voice sang.
+
+She was graceful, accomplished, beautiful, poised and sweet.
+
+One night as we walked alone under the moonlight the Englishman opened
+his heart to me and said, "You are going to visit the Head-Hunting Dyaks
+to-morrow. You will see their abject squalor and filth. You will be
+surprised when I tell you that my wife was a Dyak girl and that I took
+her out of a Kampong fifteen years ago and took her to England."
+
+"That's a lie!" I exclaimed.
+
+"It is the truth!" he added.
+
+Somehow his statement angered me. I don't know why. Perhaps it was the
+unusual heat of the tropics. We were directly on the Equator. I would
+have fought him for that statement.
+
+But it was true.
+
+"And the hell of it was that when I took her to England she was not
+happy and my people would not receive her. So we have had to come back
+to Borneo and live our lives in this fashion, far from civilization."
+
+He was silent for a few minutes.
+
+"That is the fate of mixing bloods in these tropical lands," he said
+with a shudder. "And the woman always suffers more than the man!"
+
+I met another Malay-English girl on the ship going from Singapore to
+Batavia, Java.
+
+She too was an educated, English-speaking girl of a strange beauty and
+fascination. She started to talk with me as I sat alone on the Dutch
+ship. We were the only English-speaking people on board and we felt a
+certain comradeship. We sat an entire evening talking about the problem
+of a girl of mixed blood in the Malay States.
+
+"White men always assume that we are bad girls. They come into the
+offices where we work as stenographers and insult us. It is that taint
+of mixed blood. We have the longings and the ideals of the best blood
+that is in our veins; but the skin and the color and the passions of the
+worst. We try to be good; some of us; but everything is against us. We
+can never marry white men; though we frequently fall in love with them
+for we work side by side with them in the offices. But when it comes to
+marrying us they fear the social ban. It is a terrible thing. There is
+no way out! It is a thing that has been imposed upon us from the
+generations that have gone. We pay!"
+
+I shall never forget her brown eyes, her brown skin, her heaving breast,
+as the great Dutch ship cut the waves of the South China Sea bound for
+Java.
+
+"Why are you leaving a good position and going to Java?" I asked her.
+
+"They say things are better for us girls in Java; that the Dutch are not
+so particular. I shall no doubt be homesick for Singapore but I am going
+to try Java for a while. My sister is there!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A Feminine-Flash light that has its humorous side was one that I
+experienced in Borneo.
+
+We had gone out to a Dyak village to take pictures.
+
+It was a miserably hot morning. That night I stayed in Pontianak which
+is bisected by the Equator. It was so cold in the middle of the night
+that I had to get up and put on a night shirt!
+
+The next day we tramped ten miles through the Jungle to a Head-hunting
+Dyak village.
+
+I had been taking pictures for an hour in this Kampong when six of the
+most beautiful Dyak girls came in, with great Bamboo water tubes flung
+over their gracefully strong shoulders. Their skin looked like that of a
+red banana from toe to chin. They were stark naked save for a girdle
+about their loins. They had been five miles away for water.
+
+Their skin was flushed with exercise. There they stood, mystified at
+seeing white men in the village Kampong.
+
+In fact they were terrified.
+
+Their big brown eyes bulged out.
+
+Their breasts heaved with fear.
+
+I said to the missionary, "Dyak Madonnas! What a painting they would
+make?"
+
+"Yes, there are no more beautiful women anywhere. They look like bronze
+statues. A Rodin, or a St. Gaudens would go wild over their limbs and
+bodies."
+
+I asked the missionary to tell them that I wanted to take a picture of
+them just as they were, standing with their water vessels poised on
+their shoulders; in their naked splendor and beauty.
+
+He told them.
+
+They squealed for all the world like American girls and ran for dear
+life, disappearing in the flash of an eye.
+
+He tried to coax them to come out to get a picture taken. The Missionary
+could speak their language but they would only peek through the doors
+with grinning faces.
+
+Finally they agreed that we could take their pictures if I would let
+them put dresses on.
+
+I didn't want to do this; for I wanted them just as they were; but saw
+that they were adamant in their souls even if their brown bodies did
+look as soft as ripening mangos; and as beautiful and brown.
+
+I pictured all sorts of ugly dresses; discarded by the white folks and
+given to them. But much to my surprise, when they appeared all dressed
+up for the picture, every last one of them had on a white woman's
+discarded night gown.
+
+I wanted to laugh. It destroyed their picturesqueness but those gowns
+could not destroy their symmetrical beauty of limb and body.
+
+"That's a quick way to dress up!" I said to my missionary friend.
+
+We smiled but I got the picture.
+
+And back of these Flash-lights Feminine; is the black page of the
+history of womankind in all the Far East; with footbinding still rampant
+over nine-tenths of China; baby-killing, baby-selling, and baby-slavery
+which I saw with my own eyes time and time again; with slavery of
+womankind, from Japan down to Ceylon the regular thing. But there is
+still hope in the woman-heart of the Far East; and the hope is the
+American woman and her religion. That and that alone will break down
+prejudices, break off shackles, and tear to bits the traditions of the
+past.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The women suffer! Yes, the women always suffer!" said a big fellow to
+me up in the northern part of Luzon in the Philippines one evening.
+
+"What do you mean?" I asked him, scenting a story.
+
+Then the man told me of a cholera epidemic that he had passed through;
+of how he had tried to care for the sick, even though he was not a
+physician; told me of their poor superstitious methods of driving away
+the "evil spirits."
+
+He told of how he had gone into homes where he found seven inmates dead
+and four dying; of how he tried to care for them with nothing medicinal
+at hand.
+
+Then he told me of how the poor people went down to a dirty inland river
+and had killed a hog, taken its heart; killed a dog, taken its heart;
+and then after putting them on a little raft, floated them off down the
+river to drive the cholera away. Then he told me of how the natives had,
+in their desperation, tied tight bands about their ankles to keep the
+evil spirits from coming up out of the earth into their bodies.
+
+"But what do you yourself do about a doctor. You say that you are 400
+miles from a doctor, even here. What about your children, when they take
+sick?" I asked him, and then was sorry that I had asked the question
+because of a terribly hurt and unutterably sorrowful look in his eyes.
+
+"Mother and I don't like to talk about that or to think about it!" he
+said simply, and I knew that I had torn open an old wound which was just
+over his heart.
+
+His voice broke as he spoke, and he looked at the woman who was his
+brave helpmate and said again: "Mother and I don't like to think about
+that!" The tears ran down over his cheeks and "Mother's" too, and mine
+also.
+
+"I am sorry! I am sorry if I have opened an old wound!" I said, quite
+helpless to remedy the damage I had done. I felt as one who had
+unwittingly trodden on a flower bed and crushed some violets. They
+bleed, even though you see no blood. I saw that their hearts were
+bleeding. But he spoke.
+
+"We were 400 miles from a doctor. Baby took sick. If we could have had a
+doctor she would have been saved."
+
+"Now Daddy, we do not know for certain about that," said the
+ever-conservative woman in her.
+
+"There was not a Filipino doctor. She died in mother's arms!"
+
+It was oppressively silent in that far-off mission home for a few
+minutes. I thought some one would sob aloud. It might have been any one
+of us, the way we all felt. I took hold of my cane chair with a grip
+that numbed my hands for a half hour afterwards.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FUN
+
+
+All the "Peck's Bad Boys" of the world are not confined to American
+soil.
+
+I found them all over the Far East; especially in China.
+
+I was annexed by one of them who became a sort of a guide de luxe when
+we were going through the ruined Palaces of the romantic regions of
+Peking.
+
+He annexed himself to us in somewhat the same fashion as a thistle or a
+burr annexes itself to you as you walk through the field where thistles
+are thick.
+
+He was an acquired asset of questionable value. With him were a lot of
+followers but it was plain to be seen that he was the leader of the
+gang; which was, for all the world, like a typical street gang in an
+American city.
+
+Who could pass up that group of a dozen little rascals who followed us
+through the ruins of the old Summer Palace? Who could resist their
+imitations of everything one did? I sneezed and the little rascals
+sneezed also. I counted one, two, three, four, as I adjusted my Graflex
+for a picture and I heard a chorus of laughing "One, two, three, fours."
+I yelled ahead to an American member of the party and said "Wait!" and a
+dozen boys yelled "Wait!"
+
+We fell in love with the dirty-faced rascals. They looked to be a
+nuisance when we started and I wanted them driven back, but before we
+were through they had become the most interesting part of the whole
+trip. Sure enough we emptied our purses of pennies and some white money.
+The little fellow who was in his bare feet and who said, with a real
+touch of seven year old Chinese humor, "These are leather shoes that I
+have on and they will last all my life," won our hearts. That was humor
+with a vengeance.
+
+This lad was happy. No wonder then that when one of the party passed him
+an extra penny early in the morning he winked knowingly as one who had
+been taken into the inner councils of affection.
+
+And no wonder that he followed the man who gave him that penny to the
+end of the morning, and no wonder when we told him through the
+interpreter that we liked the boys because they were good boys; he said
+in return, "Some boys would have followed you around, pulling your coats
+and being rude and yelling at you."
+
+The nonchalant way in which they admitted that they were good boys won
+our hearts and we came back penniless.
+
+Then who can forget the little rascals who smiled and winked back in the
+midst of the dignified Lama ceremonies over at the Lama Temple, proving
+that they were, after all, real human boys with a laugh and the spirit
+of fun in their little souls in spite of their having to take part in
+this dignified chanting service.
+
+It was fun when the service was over to see them tumble out of the
+Temple so fast that one boy fell and about six fell on top of him just
+as American boys do pouring out of school. I even saw one lad whack
+another one on the back of his little bald head and a scuffle ensued.
+They laughed, fought, tumbled pell-mell, got up again grinning, winked
+and laughed back at the good natured Americans for all the world like
+American boys.
+
+The Chinese have a distinct sense of humor and it is very much like that
+which is found in our own America. Indeed the Chinese are like us in
+many respects.
+
+The Filipino enjoys a good joke but his humor is more cruel than is
+American humor.
+
+The Dyak of Borneo has a sense of play and fun that would not exactly
+appeal to an American mind; although there are those who claim that
+American football is a near kin to the delightful game of Head-hunting
+indulged in by the Dyaks of Borneo.
+
+The Dyaks have for centuries been known as the head-hunters of the Far
+East. They, in common with the Igorotes of the Philippines, have had the
+playful custom of going out when the mood took them and bringing in a
+few heads just as our Indians used to get scalps. When a Dyak youth
+wanted to marry a nice young Dyak girl to whom he had taken a fancy (and
+I can assure the reader that some of them are as beautiful as Rodin's
+bronze statues), he didn't even dare mention his desire for that young
+bronze beauty until he had brought in five or six heads. After that he
+had some standing in the lady's sight. Without the heads he had no more
+chance of winning either the girl herself or her pa or ma or any of the
+Dyak family than the proverbial snowball has of getting through Borneo
+without melting. It just simply couldn't be done according to Dyak
+etiquette.
+
+Head-hunting was a game between tribes also. When two tribes of Dyaks
+felt a playful mood coming on, they would challenge each other to a
+head-hunting game. The game would last for a week or so and the tribe
+that took the most heads won. It was nothing like "Tag you're it." If
+so, some of the skulls that I have seen at Dyak Compounds would not be
+grinning so hideously these days as they ornament the poles of certain
+vain and proud Dyak hunters.
+
+The Battaks of Sumatra also have a playful custom of getting rid of
+their old men. When a man gets so old that they think it is about time
+for him to tell his last tale, they put him up a Cocoanut tree. Then all
+of the young bucks of the village get together and try to shake him
+down. If he is too feeble to hold on, and comes down, that is a sign of
+heaven that his days are through and they cook him and eat him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Japanese claim to have a great sense of humor. Japanese students
+speaking in America, insist that this is true. But travelers in Japan do
+not find it so. Indeed if Japan had a sense of humor, it would keep her
+out of many an international tangle. She does not know how to laugh. Her
+sense of dignity is so exaggerated that she does not know the fine art
+of smiling and laughing at herself.
+
+"What does Japan most need to learn?" a student asked me.
+
+"To laugh," I replied.
+
+"I think that you are right! Your Lincoln knew how to laugh!" was his
+response as he went off thoughtfully.
+
+I was advertised to speak in a northern college in Japan. The Dean of
+the school wanted to advertise me so that the students would all come
+out to hear me. This is the way he did it:
+
+    "Dr. Stidger is a college student who played with the foot-ball
+    in America. He is a man with the bigness of the head! He
+    reaches the six feet tall; the four feet around; has an arm
+    like an ox and a head like a board!"
+
+I was not certain as to just what he meant by many of those references,
+but I was assured that they were intended to be highly complimentary to
+me. I am not yet sure of that but I had a good laugh just the same.
+
+The story is told of a ruthless American humorist Hotel-keeper in
+Singapore who was entertaining a group of Japanese Officers from the
+Japanese Navy. This American had no love for Japan. He also knew of
+their lack of humor; so when the Japanese Captain arrived at the hotel
+the American Manager made quite an extended speech of welcome, as his
+American friends listened, greatly amused.
+
+He said in part: "The hotel is yours! During your stay the entire force
+of servants is at your disposal. If there is anything that you want that
+you do not see, please ask for it."
+
+[Illustration: OLD BROMO VOLCANO, JAVA.
+
+"The way it effervesces Bromo is a fitting name," said the author when
+he saw it in action.]
+
+[Illustration: A SIDE VIEW OF BEAUTIFUL BOROBOEDOER IN JAVA.
+
+Said by travelers to make the Pyramids look like child's play as a
+tremendous piece of construction; and as a work of art to have no rival
+in the whole world.]
+
+[Illustration: NAKED AND OTHERWISE.
+
+This curious conglomeration of Mongrel children watching the
+photographer in Borneo where Dyaks, Chinese, Malay and others mix
+indiscriminately.]
+
+[Illustration: A DOG MARKET AMONG THE IGGOROTEES OF THE PHILIPPINES.]
+
+The Japanese Captain bowed continuously and smiled; sucking in his
+breath with a characteristic national custom; the same sound they made
+as they eat fried eggs in a Japanese dining car; a sound similar to the
+old-fashioned but now obsolete method of drinking coffee from a saucer.
+
+"There is just one request however that we will have to make of you,
+while you are here with us in the hotel," continued the American hotel
+manager.
+
+"And what is that may I ask?" inquired the Japanese Captain, still
+bowing and sucking in air through his teeth.
+
+"That you do not climb around in the trees!"
+
+The Japanese officers did not see the joke and did not even smile but
+the Americans in the Far East have laughed over it for years.
+
+Which reminds one of the night on the Sambas River when a hundred little
+monkeys were silhouetted against a crimson sunset.
+
+Red, brown, yellow, golden, blue orchids flashed in the sunlight; and
+flowers of every hue under God's blue skies made brilliant the river
+banks. At times the ship went so close that I could reach out and grab a
+limb of a tree, much to the indignation of the monkeys who chattered at
+me as if I had stolen something. Now and then a big lazy alligator slid
+into the water from the muddy banks as the wave-wash from our propeller
+frightened him.
+
+Coming back down the Sambas River, along its winding, beautiful way we
+sat one evening and watched a crimson sunset from the deck of the ship.
+At one point in the river there was a row of dead, bare trees. There
+were no leaves on the branches--only monkeys: big red monkeys, which
+they call "Beroks," and little gray fellows, which they call "Wahwahs."
+These monkeys were strikingly silhouetted against the crimson sunset in
+strange tropical fashion. From the tips of those dead trees down to the
+lowest branches dozens of monkeys stood like sentinels, or romped like
+children, or chattered like magpies. Their long curling tails
+silhouetted below the branches against the light of evening.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Most Americans who go in and out of Japan get disgusted with the
+regulations that policemen impose upon them.
+
+This is especially true of those Americans living in China who are
+compelled, for business reasons, to go in and out of Japan, for at every
+trip they are required to answer the same list of questions. I traveled
+from Korea into Japan with the Military Attache of the Spanish Legation.
+When we landed a Japanese officer who had known him for many years
+insisted upon his answering the usual questions.
+
+"I've been in this country for ten years and yet I never go out or in
+that they do not compel me to go through the same foolish police
+regulations which they have copied from Germany and haven't sense
+enough to give up!" he said indignantly.
+
+I also traveled with a party in which there was a Methodist Bishop's
+wife. This Bishop's wife absolutely refused to give the Japanese
+policeman her age. Not that she had any reason to be ashamed of her age.
+In fact she could easily have passed for twenty years younger than she
+probably was, but she just had the average American woman's spunk and
+refused to give it.
+
+For a few minutes it looked as if diplomatic relations between Japan and
+America might be seriously cracked, if not broken; for the Japanese
+officer had no sense of humor. That is one of the chief defects of the
+Japanese police and military system. It has no sense of humor. It takes
+itself too seriously. It does not know how to laugh.
+
+To the eight or ten Americans in the party the whole matter was a huge
+joke and we admired the spunk of the Bishop's wife, but the poor
+Japanese police officer was facing what he thought was an international
+problem.
+
+Need it be said that the whole matter was finally settled to the entire
+satisfaction; not of the Japanese officer, but to the entire
+satisfaction of the Bishop's wife.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A friend of mine who happens to be in business in the Orient got so
+tried of being interviewed, trailed, and made to answer innumerable
+questions about his mother, grandmother, etc., that one day on landing
+in Yokohama, in a spirit of fun, he answered the officer's questions in
+this manner:
+
+"How old are you?"
+
+"Thirty-six."
+
+"Have you a family?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How many children?"
+
+"Three."
+
+"How old are they?"
+
+"One is thirty-eight, one forty, and one forty-five."
+
+"What is your occupation?"
+
+"Commander-in-Chief of the Greenland Navy."
+
+"What are you doing in Japan?"
+
+"Getting a cargo of ice to take back to Greenland."
+
+After satisfying his appetite for information, the Japanese police
+officer departed to make his reports, while the young American went to
+his hotel with a grin all over his face.
+
+While he was eating his dinner that evening suddenly the Japanese
+officer appeared in the dining room with a big smile on his face and
+walked over to where the American sat with a group of friends.
+
+As he approached the American's table he said with a grin, "You
+American! I know! You American!"
+
+"How did you guess it, my friend?"
+
+"You make me one tam fool!" he said holding out the report.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Some of the most laughable things that one sees in the Orient are the
+Japanese signs translated into English by some Japanese merchant who has
+picked up a dash of English here and there.
+
+One such sign which caused a lot of amusement was that of a tailor who
+was trying to cater to American Tourist trade. He had, evidently, also
+had some contact with the spiritual phraseology of the missionaries. He
+had painted on a big sign:
+
+    "BUY OUR PANCE!
+    THEY FIT YOU BETTER AND
+    THEY WARM YOUR LEGS LIKE THE
+    LOVE OF GOD!"
+
+Perhaps the most exhilaratingly humorous thing that the Japanese have
+perpetrated on the Koreans was a list of advices printed and posted all
+over Korea by the Police Department as to the regulation of Fords:
+
+    RULES!
+
+    1. At the rise of hand of policeman, stop rapidly. Do not pass
+    him by or otherwise disrespect him.
+
+    2. When a passenger of the foot hove in sight, tootle the horn
+    trumpet to him melodiously at first. If he still obstacles your
+    passage, tootle him with vigor and express by word of the mouth
+    the warning, "hi, hi."
+
+    3. Beware of the wandering horse that he shall not take fright
+    as you pass him. Do not explode the exhaust box at him. Go
+    soothingly by, or stop by the roadside till he gently pass
+    away.
+
+    4. Give big space to the festive dog that make sport in the
+    roadway. Avoid entanglement of dog with your wheel spokes.
+
+    5. Go soothingly on the grease-mud, as there lurk the
+    skid-demon. Press the brake of the foot as you roll around the
+    corners to save the collapse and tie-up.
+
+    6. Number of people you put in the Ford: You put two in the
+    front house and three in the back house.
+
+There were other rules but this list will be sufficient as a Flash-light
+of Fun to give some idea of the ridiculous way in which the average
+Japanese twists the ideas and phraseology of English in the
+translations.
+
+I saw one great sign which brought a smile. It was up on the island of
+Hokkaido. It had printed in large English letters:
+
+  "GET YOUR MOTHER'S MILK HERE!"
+
+Below that sentence there was a picture of a cow which looked as much
+like a combination of an Elephant and a Camel as anything I know. The
+artist must have been a wonder. Attached to each of the cow's udders
+were long lines of hose that ran for about ten feet across a big
+bill-board. At the end of each line of hose was a nipple, like our
+American baby-nipples. At the end of each nipple there was a man-sized
+baby pulling away at the nipple. It was one of the funniest advertising
+signs I ever saw. I watched several Americans look up at it and every
+one of them laughed aloud. And the funny thing about it was that it was
+intended to be a serious advertising sign.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At a banquet given in the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo one of the most
+side-splitting incidents happened unintentionally that ever happened at
+any banquet anywhere.
+
+One of the sons of a great Japanese business man was speaking. The
+banquet was in honor of a well-known College President from America who
+had come to take up work in the Orient. This banquet was to welcome him
+officially to Japan.
+
+One of the speakers, sitting beside Mr. Uchida, the Foreign Minister,
+had been a student in America where this man was formerly the college
+president and he was trying to make the crowd see how happy he was to
+welcome the president to Japan. He did it in the following language as
+nearly as I can remember it:
+
+"I feel like a cartoon I see in your peculiar paper--what you call
+him--_Puck_? _Judge_? No--he bin in that peculiar paper, _Life_? That
+was he.
+
+"This picture; he shows two dogs talking to each other.
+
+"One dog he a great, what you call him--Coolie? Pug? Yes, he was a
+Scottish Coolie. The other was a little wee dog; a Pugnacious Dog, I
+think you call him.
+
+"The little dog he have his tail all done up in the bandages.
+
+"The big dog say, 'Little dog, for why you have your tail all bandaged
+up like that? You have an accident?'
+
+"'No,' say the little dog, 'but my master, he just come home from
+France, and I am so glad to see him I bin wagging my tail all day long
+until it get broke and I have to have him wrapped up like this.'"
+
+Then the speaker turned dramatically--with the deepest sense of
+seriousness; without a trace of a smile on his face, without a glimmer
+of consciousness of the fact that the Americans at that banquet were
+biting their teeth to keep from bursting into laughter; and with a grand
+flourish, pointed to the American dignitary and said, "I feel just like
+that little dog. I so glad to see Dr. ---- come to Japan that I have
+been wagging my tail all day long."
+
+But he got no further. The American crowd; full-dressed, and full of
+dignity as it was; exploded. That speech was too much, even for the sake
+of international courtesy, to expect such a crowd to hold in.
+Fortunately most of the educated Japanese there saw the joke and joined
+in the laugh.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We had a funny experience in a dining car on a Japanese train coming
+from northern Japan down to Tokyo one evening.
+
+A well-dressed Japanese in a rich Kimono sat drinking heavily at a table
+a few feet from us.
+
+Suddenly he looked up and yelled "Silence!" looking directly at us.
+
+It was so sudden and so funny that I laughed. This made the Japanese
+gentleman angry.
+
+Then he let forth a more extended English sentence. Later we figured
+that it was the only sentence in English that he knew, and that he had
+learned that sentence by sitting at the feet of some stern, English
+teacher who had occasion to reiterate that sentence frequently.
+
+This drunken Japanese looked at me sternly for laughing and said,
+"Silence! All gentlemen must be silent!"
+
+This was too much for my sense of humor and I laughed again.
+
+"Silence! All gentlemen must be silent!" he yelled a third time.
+
+"We must get away from him; or we'll get into trouble. I can't keep from
+laughing when he repeats that," I said to Dr. Goucher.
+
+We all moved back to another table, but Dr. Goucher sat by himself at a
+little table. This moving, insulted the drunken Japanese and he came
+back to where Dr. Goucher sat and leered into his face yelling once
+again, "All gentlemen must be silent!"
+
+At this one of the party jumped to the side of Dr. Goucher and took the
+Japanese by the shoulder and turned him around and said, "Go! Sit down,
+fool!"
+
+The train was whirling through the night. There were mutterings and
+imprecations among the Japanese and we thought that they were directed
+toward us; but a missionary who could understand the language, said that
+the whole crowd of Japanese was severely reprimanding the drunken
+Japanese for insulting foreigners. They told him in Japanese phrases
+that he ought to be ashamed of insulting foreigners in his own country.
+
+About five minutes after this he suddenly left his seat, came staggering
+down the aisle of the car with a plate full of big red apples and
+offered an apple to each one of us as a peace offering.
+
+We got to calling him, in our party "Old Mr. 'All gentlemen must be
+silent!'" and he came to be a real character in our fun.
+
+But one morning a month later as we were all boarding a train in Fusan,
+Korea, bound for Seoul, who should be sitting in the car but "Old Mr.
+'All gentlemen must be silent.'"
+
+This time he was in American clothes. We had a Japanese friend with us.
+We told this friend about the incident on the train in northern Japan
+and asked him who the man was.
+
+"Why that is a member of the House of Lords and he is going up to Korea
+representing the Diet to make a report on the Korean outrages," we were
+told.
+
+Another month passed and I was coming back from Seoul, Korea, to Tokio,
+Japan, when I suddenly ran into our old friend "All gentlemen must be
+silent!" This time he was drunk again, and sitting in a Japanese dining
+car with the same Kimono on that he had worn the first time we saw him.
+He saw me enter the car.
+
+I tried to avoid him, but he was not to let this opportunity for
+international courtesy go by unnoticed and unimproved. So, much to my
+delight and surprise, he arose, and made a low bow.
+
+I bowed back. He made another bow until his nose almost touched the car.
+I made a return bow. He made a third one. I followed suit. He made a
+fourth. I made a fourth, although I was beginning to feel dizzy and my
+insides were beginning to complain.
+
+I wondered when the thing would stop. I thought of a hundred fat men I
+had seen on a Gymnasium floor trying to do the same thing and touch the
+floor with their hands. I knew that there was a limit to my endurance in
+a test of this kind. He bowed five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten times,
+and I bowed back. I could see things whirling around me.
+
+"Blame it, why doesn't he stop some time!" I said to myself.
+
+I was desperate. Then suddenly I looked at him and he looked at me and
+he said, with great dignity, "All gentlemen must be silent!" and sat
+down, with his friends and his wines.
+
+I don't know whether he realized how funny it was or not. I don't know
+whether he even knew what he was saying in his drunken condition, but I
+do know that when I got out of that car into the vestibule I had the
+laugh of my life. A Japanese woman came by, smiled at me and I am sure
+said to herself:
+
+"Ah, these Americans they are all crazy!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The last Flash-light of Fun is a picture from the Philippines.
+
+I have spoken in the chapter on "Flash-lights of Faith" of the trip to
+the Negrito tribe, but in that chapter I did not speak of the desperate
+adventure of the trip back down the jungle trail to civilization after
+the experience with the old man.
+
+For the second time on that memorable day I dropped in my tracks with a
+sunstroke. My legs refused to move. My muscles were congested with waste
+matter and evidently my brain was also. When I returned to consciousness
+I saw lying beside me Mr. Huddleston, an old missionary who had been in
+the Philippines for many years. Across from, him was a naked Negrito who
+was acting as our guide.
+
+I looked up in a tree above us and saw what I thought was a group of
+monkeys.
+
+"Look at the monkeys!" I said to the missionary.
+
+"There are no monkeys in that tree!" he said.
+
+That made me angry. My mind was affected by the sun to such an extent
+that I had an insane desire to grab the Bolo of the Negrito guide out of
+his belt and run it through the missionary. I made a determined mental
+effort to do so, but my arm would not work. I strove as one strives in a
+dream when he is trying to run away from some imagined danger and his
+feet are tied down. If I could have gotten my hands on that bolo I
+would have run it through the missionary without a minute's hesitation.
+
+But my mind was detracted from this thought by two large elephants which
+I suddenly saw running down the path on which we were lying. I yelled
+aloud!
+
+"The elephants! They will trample us man! Look! There they come!" I
+cried pointing up the trail on which we were lying.
+
+"Why you're plumb crazy man! You've missed too many boats! That sun's
+got you! There are no elephants on this trail!"
+
+"But I know elephants when I see them!" I cried and tried to roll out of
+the trail but again found it impossible to make my brain and my muscles
+coordinate. It was a terrible moment to me.
+
+"My God man! Are you crazy! I know elephants when I see them. They're
+right on us now! Help me out of here! I can't move!"
+
+"I tell you there are no elephants and there are no monkeys in these
+islands. I've been here twenty years or more!"
+
+"But I know elephants when I see them!"
+
+But just at that moment a much greater danger confronted us, for I saw
+three tigers leap out of the jungle and start after the two elephants;
+right down the trail toward us. Then I knew that we were as good as
+dead.
+
+I yelled: "Tigers! Tigers! They are running after the elephants! They
+are on top of us!"
+
+The fool of a missionary laughed aloud, as he lay on the trail and said,
+"Plumb crazy! Plumb crazy! Sun's got him! Sun's got him!"
+
+"Sun's got who, fool? The elephants and tigers will kill us in about a
+minute!"
+
+But just then something happened which upset my calculations and made me
+have a feeling that--after all--perhaps the old missionary was
+right--for suddenly those two elephants; being too closely pursued by
+the tigers; nonchalantly flew into the air like two great birds, and
+lighted in the tree over our heads where I thought the monkeys were. If
+those elephants hadn't started to fly; I should still be arguing with
+the missionary; but as it turned out; I shut my fool mouth and decided
+that the missionary was right and that I had "Missed too many boats."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FREEDOM
+
+
+"SELF-DETERMINATION!" That phrase has set the whole world on fire!
+
+"Independence!" That word somehow has awakened the Oriental world;
+awakened that mass of humanity as it has never been awakened before.
+
+Korea perhaps has thrilled to this awakening as no other section of the
+Orient or the Near and Far East. India's millions are restless; the
+Filipino is hungry for Independence although he is loyal to the United
+States; but Korea has the matter set in its heart like adamant. This
+determination will never be broken; Korea will never be conquered by
+Japan!
+
+This dream of complete and full independence is buried in the souls of
+the children, as well as in the souls of the brave women, and of the old
+men of Korea.
+
+"It is one of the most thrilling things I have ever seen in the Orient!"
+said a man on the Editorial staff of _Millard's Weekly_. "It is the most
+significant outcome of the war; Korea's passion for independence, and
+the Student Movement in China!"
+
+I said to a business man of California who had traveled all over the
+Orient and who had been sent as part of the Commission that prepared the
+way for the abandonment of the Picture Bride custom, "What is the most
+significant thing you have seen in the Orient?"
+
+"The determination of the Koreans for Self-determination!" was his quick
+reply.
+
+"Will they get it?"
+
+"It is inevitable in time!" he responded, and then he added: "Why the
+little rascals; the children, I mean; paint the Korean flags on their
+brown bellies, because the Japanese gendarmes will not allow them to
+display the Korean flag in public!" and he laughed aloud at the memory.
+
+"Have you seen Korean kiddies with flags painted on their stomachs?"
+
+"Dozens of them. They like to show them to Americans," he said.
+
+A week later I was walking with a Korean missionary and asked him if
+what the business man from California had told me about the children was
+true and he said, "Wait until we find a group of them."
+
+We waited for only a few minutes when we ran into a crowd coming home
+from school. A friendly smile and a low-voiced "Mansei" got attention.
+
+Then we pointed to our own stomachs.
+
+In a flash they caught on to what we wanted and, looking around
+cautiously, each little rascal untied his robe and there, sure enough
+was the flag of his country painted on his stomach.
+
+"That is one of the most thrilling sights I have seen in the Orient!" I
+said with tears in my eyes. "If the children of the land feel that way,
+Korea will never be conquered!"
+
+"The American understands! The American understands!" one of the little
+bright-eyed boys said to the missionary in Korean.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A missionary was teaching a class of Koreans about Heaven.
+
+A little hand shot up.
+
+The missionary nodded that the child could speak.
+
+"Will there be any Japs in Heaven?"
+
+This was a baffling question; for diplomatic destinies were at stake.
+But missionaries are usually honest, so she said, "Yes, if they are good
+Japs!"
+
+"Then I don't want to go!" said the little eight-year-old Korean with
+emphasis.
+
+Another teacher was telling a class in Geography to draw a map of the
+Orient.
+
+One Korean child said, "Do we have to put in that little group of
+islands east of the coast of China?"
+
+I met one Korean whom I had known in America. He was educated in the
+American universities. He was in every sense of the word a gentleman and
+an intellectual.
+
+He told me that the older children of his family had taught the
+nine-months-old baby to raise its hands in the air above its head
+whenever the word "Mansei" was spoken.
+
+I got an electrical shock of patriotism the day I saw that tiny child
+lift its little arms above its head when that sacred word was spoken. It
+was like a benediction of freedom!
+
+"This posture of the child is more significant," said Mr. ----, "when
+you know that the most cruel method of torture that the Japanese use is
+that of stretching a man, woman or child up by the thumbs to the ceiling
+with his toes just touching the floor."
+
+In that same posture of torture Koreans rise to their toes when they
+give their national cry of "Mansei" for all the world like an American
+student giving his college yell.
+
+"It means life and death to give that cry as you know," said this
+intelligent Korean.
+
+"Then what will your children do when they grow a bit older and go out
+on the streets and yell this cry?" I asked this intelligent father.
+
+"Be killed, no doubt, by some ignorant, ruthless Japanese gendarme!" he
+said with finality.
+
+"Then you should not allow them to teach its tiny lips that word!" I
+said.
+
+"I would rather my child were dead than to have it forget that cry!"
+
+In this same family one Sunday afternoon a two-year-old child was
+sleeping on a mat. The father and mother were reading some American
+papers sent them by their old college friends in the United States.
+
+Suddenly that little two-year-old sat straight up in its mat bed, lifted
+its arms in the air and shouted "Mansei! Mansei! Mansei!" three times
+and then dropped back to sleep as if nothing had happened.
+
+"How did you feel?" I asked my Korean friend.
+
+"It made me cry. I said to my wife 'As long as Korea has babies with
+that in their little souls before they are two years of age, Korea will
+never be assimilated by Japan!'"
+
+The children of Korea look up at the ceiling when a Japanese teacher
+enters a room. They are compelled to have Japanese teachers; even in the
+mission schools. The children refuse to do anything for a Japanese
+teacher.
+
+One day a Japanese teacher thought that he would break that mood by
+telling a funny story. He told it with skill.
+
+But not a child laughed, although one of them said to her father that
+night, "It was hard not to laugh for it was a very funny story!"
+
+"Who tells you to do these things; you students? Who teaches you to
+treat your Japanese teachers in that manner?" my Korean friend asked his
+six-year-old child.
+
+"Nobody tells us; we just do it ourselves! All the children hate the
+Japanese!" he replied with the wisdom of a grown man.
+
+All over Korea we saw Korean flags cut in walls, carved on stones, and
+against excavations where the sand was impressionable to little fingers
+and sticks. I took many photographs of these unconventional flags.
+
+There is one instance where Korean children went on a strike just at
+Commencement time. It meant that they would not get their diplomas but
+that was just the reason they did it: to show their contempt for
+Japanese diplomas.
+
+Japanese authorities begged them to return to school.
+
+Finally on Commencement Day they decided to return.
+
+Something had happened.
+
+It was a day of rejoicing among the Japanese so they invited a lot of
+Japanese officers to the Commencement exercises.
+
+The diplomas were given, to each boy; the Japanese teachers bowing, and
+smiling in their peculiar way.
+
+Then a thirteen-year-old Korean boy stepped to the front to make the
+address of thanks. He made a beautiful speech of thanks. The Japanese
+teachers were bowing with delight.
+
+But the boy's speech was not finished. He paused toward the end, threw
+back his blouse, lifted his proud head and said, "I have only this one
+thing further to add."
+
+He knew the seriousness of what he was about to do. He knew that it
+would possibly mean death to him and his relatives.
+
+"We want but one thing of you Japanese. You have given us education, and
+you have given us these diplomas. The teachers have been good to us."
+
+Then he reached in his blouse and pulled out a Korean flag. To have one
+in one's possession is a crime in Korea in the judgment of the Japanese.
+
+Waving it above his little head he cried, "Give us back our country! May
+Korea live a thousand years! Mansei! Mansei! Mansei!"
+
+At that signal every boy in that school jumped to his feet, whipped out
+a Korean flag and frantically waved it in the air, weeping and yelling
+in wild abandonment to the faith and courage of freedom in their
+hearts!
+
+Then they tore their diplomas up before the horrified and angered
+Japanese teachers.
+
+The result was a great student demonstration for freedom; which was
+broken up by a force of Japanese gendarmes with drawn swords; but not
+before the shooting of many boys and girls; and not before over four
+hundred girls and boys were thrown into prison; some of them never to
+emerge.
+
+In the chapter on "Flash-lights of Faith" I told the story of the
+seventy-five-year-old Korean who unflinchingly faced the Japanese
+gendarmes and admitted that he knew the source from which the
+Independence Movement had come; and knew the signers of the Declaration
+personally; every one of them. This spirit burns in the heart of, not
+only the babies of Korea but also in the souls of the white haired
+stately patriarchs.
+
+One old man who was dumb had his own way of expressing his patriotism
+when "Mansei" was yelled. He always lifted his arms above his head. He
+could not speak but he could yell with his arms!
+
+This placed the Japanese authorities in the ridiculous position of
+arresting a dumb man for yelling "Mansei!"
+
+They tortured him for months. He was told that he would be released if
+he would promise never to lift his hands above his head again.
+
+He could not speak in answer to their demands. They waited.
+
+Suddenly he caught their meaning. They were trying to frighten him from
+giving vent to his only method of showing his patriotism.
+
+His eyes flashed fire. He leapt to his feet with a contemptuous look at
+his Japanese captors.
+
+Then like flashing piston rods of steel his arms shot into the air above
+his head three times, shouting in their mute patriotism, "Mansei!
+Mansei! Mansei!"
+
+Nor are the women void of this determination for freedom. It beats in
+their brave hearts. It is a great flame in their souls as well as in the
+hearts of the children and men of the peninsula.
+
+"The soul's armor is never set well to heart unless a woman's hand has
+braced it, and it is only when she braces it loosely that the honor of
+manhood fails!" says Robert McKenna in "The Adventure of Life."
+
+If that is a true definition of the strength of honor and the desire for
+freedom then the armor of the Korean men is well set.
+
+Sauci, a young Korean girl was under arrest. She was just a school girl
+and very beautiful; with dark brown eyes; skin the color of a walnut;
+and a form, bred of the grace of her much walking race. She had walked
+the innumerable trails of her native land from babyhood and the rhythmic
+swing of her supple body would have made any race, save that of her
+conquerors, reverent with admiration.
+
+Sauci was too much for her Japanese captors.
+
+The Japanese guard struck her across the mouth with a whip.
+
+"That doesn't hurt me. That is the grace of God. I don't hate you for
+that blow!" said Sauci.
+
+This angered the Jap and he struck her again. This stroke left a streak
+of blood across her face.
+
+Sauci said again, "That doesn't hurt me. That is the grace of God. I do
+not hate you for striking me!"
+
+The gendarme was furious. His anger was like that of a beast. He flew at
+her blindly, and struck, struck, struck her woman's body until he was
+exhausted.
+
+A few days later when she was recovering from that brutal beating, a
+high official of the Japanese gendarme force came to see her.
+
+"Sauci," said he to her, recognizing her for an intelligent Korean girl,
+"why do not the Koreans like us?"
+
+She replied, "I had a dream last night here in the cell. That will tell
+you why. In my dream a visitor came to our home and stayed for dinner.
+Then instead of going home, the visitor stayed all night. Then the
+visitor stayed two or three days. Then two or three months. Then two or
+three years. We were surprised but were too polite to say anything.
+
+"But finally the visitor got to telling us how to run our house."
+
+"How?" asked the Japanese official, "Did the visitor tell you how to run
+your house?"
+
+"The visitor," replied Sauci, "told us that he didn't like our wall
+paper. 'I think you had better get new paper!' he said. 'I do not like
+your clothes and your schools. Wear clothes like mine, and have schools
+like mine. I do not like your way of talking. Learn my language!'
+
+"So finally we got tired of our visitor and said, 'Please go home! WE do
+not like you! We do not want you! Please go home!'"
+
+"But what has that to do with us?" said the Japanese official.
+
+"Why in a few days the visitor in my dream went home!" said Sauci
+simply. "And in a few years the Japanese will go back home also!" Such
+is the courageous spirit of the Korean women.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One day an American friend of mine had gone to the Police Station with a
+young Korean girl who had been summoned to appear on what was called a
+"rearrest charge."
+
+For the Japanese feel perfectly free to rearrest a person even after
+that person has been proven innocent of a charge. A Korean may be
+rearrested any time. He can never feel free.
+
+This young, educated girl had been subjected to such indignities on her
+previous arrest as I would not be able to describe in this book; so she
+begged the woman friend to go with her.
+
+As she entered the station a rough, ignorant Japanese officer snarled at
+her as she passed, "Hello! Are you here again? I thought you were still
+in prison!"
+
+When he had gone from the room the Korean girl said to the American
+woman, "That man beat me for ten hours one day the last time I was in
+prison!"
+
+"Why did he beat you?" asked the missionary.
+
+"He was trying to compel me to give him the names of those girls who
+belonged to the 'Woman's League'."
+
+"And you would not tell him their names?"
+
+"I would rather have been beaten to death than give him their names!"
+
+"Thank God for your courage!" said the missionary, for she had seen the
+girl's body when she had gotten out of prison; the burns of cigarette
+stumps all over her beautiful skin; the scars, the whip marks; the
+desecrations.
+
+When I was told this story, amid the tears of the narrator, an American
+college woman, she concluded with fire in her soul: "I have never seen
+such courage on the part of women in all my life! Even mere girls and
+children have it. Most of those who are arrested come out of our
+American Missionary schools. There isn't a one of them who doesn't have
+in her soul the spirit of Joan of Arc. If France had one Joan of Arc,
+Korea has ten thousand!"
+
+One young girl of whom I heard was kept in prison under constant torture
+for six months. And a cruel imprisonment it is. I visited this prison
+myself one winter day when I was in Korea. The thermometer was at zero;
+the snow covered the ground, and there wasn't a fire in a single room in
+that prison save where the Japanese guards were staying, and they were
+huddled around a roaring coal stove.
+
+And this is the show prison of the whole Peninsula. The Japanese take
+visitors through it. But to an American even it is fit only for the
+darkness of the Middle Ages.
+
+In its limited quarters I saw ten and fifteen young girls, sweet faced,
+cultured, educated school girls, huddled together in narrow rooms,
+without a single chair, so closely packed that they were seated on the
+floor like bees in a hive.
+
+After six months of this awful life the girl of whom I speak was about
+to be released.
+
+The guard questioned her. "Now what are you going to do?"
+
+Her answer came, quick as a shot, although she knew that it would send
+her back to the hell from which she was about to be released.
+
+"It is either liberty for Korea or we die!" she said.
+
+And in three minutes, beaten, and dragged on the ground by the hair she
+was thrown into the cell from which she had been taken; to rot and die
+as far as the Japanese were concerned.
+
+Another girl who had been kept in jail 135 days without even a charge
+having been preferred against her was released. Her old mother came to
+meet her and while in Seoul the mother attended an Independence Meeting
+for women. The whole crowd of women then went to the Police Station and
+shouted "Mansei"!
+
+The mother was arrested and cruelly beaten in spite of her seventy-five
+years of age.
+
+When they were through beating her they said, "Now will you refrain from
+yelling, 'Mansei!'"
+
+"Never!" said this old woman.
+
+Then they took a bar of iron and beat her over the legs until she
+dropped.
+
+"Now will you refrain from yelling 'Mansei?'"
+
+The old woman was weak, but in a low, painful whisper said, "The next
+time the women come to yell, if I am able to walk I will be with them!"
+
+Another old woman was brought to prison for yelling "Mansei!" When they
+asked her why she yelled "Mansei" she answered in a sentence that sums
+up the entire spirit that is in the woman-heart of Korea.
+
+"I have only one word in my head and that is 'Mansei!'"
+
+I personally, one day in Korea, saw the Japanese gendarmes come for a
+Korean girl. She was one of the most popular girls in the American
+Methodist Missionary School.
+
+It was the common custom for Japanese officials to come and take Korean
+girls out of these schools, without warning, without warrants, without
+words, and carry them off to prison.
+
+Often the girl was not even permitted to say good-by to her American
+teachers or to write a word to her parents.
+
+"They are not even permitted to supply themselves with toilet articles,"
+said the matron to me that day.
+
+On this day, six big, brutal, ugly faced, animal-like Japanese officers
+came for this beautiful girl.
+
+The missionary women wept as the girl was dragged away. The girl waved
+good-by.
+
+It was a sight never to be forgotten; one of those Flash-lights of
+Freedom, which burned its way into my soul with the hot acid of
+indignation. This injustice and indecency in the treatment of a pure
+girl made my blood run hot in my veins.
+
+The look on her face I shall never forget. It was such a look as the
+martyrs of old must have had when they died for their faith.
+
+"Good-by! Good-by! Give my love to Mary and Elizabeth!" she cried to the
+missionary woman standing by, helpless to assist her. These two names
+were children of the missionary home; children whom this Korean girl had
+learned to love as she lived in this American home.
+
+"And the awful thing about it all, is," said the missionary to me as
+they took the girl away, "that, as pure as that girl is, as pure as a
+flower, she will be taken to a prison fifty miles from Seoul, kept there
+under torture for six months, and she will not be allowed to see her
+friends. They will not even allow us to visit her. She may be undressed
+and spat upon by men who are lower than animals. She may suffer even
+worse than that----"
+
+Then the American missionary woman fainted.
+
+That flash-light may be duplicated a hundred times in Korea.
+
+"The woman of Korea suffers as much as the man. But thank God they do
+not flinch!" said an American missionary.
+
+The Japanese Gendarmes have forbidden the singing of several of the
+great church hymns in mission churches because they insist that these
+are hymns of Freedom; that they foment what the Japanese call "Dangerous
+Ideas." Japanese spies have reported certain Seoul Methodist churches
+for singing hymns that, to their way of thinking, were directed against
+the Japanese Government. This particular illustration of the peculiar
+workings of the Japanese mind might have been included in the chapter on
+Flash-lights of Fun; were it not for the fact that the Japanese officers
+themselves call these old church hymns "Hymns of Freedom."
+
+The Japanese are just as much afraid of these "Dangerous Thoughts" in
+Japan as they are in Korea. A good illustration of this fear is the fact
+that a certain picture corporation of America called "The Liberty Film
+Company" sent several films to Japan. The Government would not allow
+these pictures to be shown until that word "Liberty" was cut from the
+film.
+
+Certain Japanese spies reported a Mission church in Seoul for singing
+"Rock of Ages."
+
+"But why may we not sing 'Rock of Ages'?" asked the American preacher in
+charge.
+
+"Because it starts off with 'Mansei!'" replied the officer.
+
+He interpreted the thought of "Rock of Ages" to be a direct imputation
+that the Japanese Government was not able to take care of the Koreans
+and that they were flying to some other protecting power.
+
+"It would be funny if it were not so serious!" said a missionary to me
+one day in Seoul.
+
+Later they stopped the churches from singing "Nearer My God to Thee,"
+because there seemed to be an implication in that, that those who sang
+that hymn, were swearing allegiance to a higher power than that of
+Japan.
+
+"Ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous!" I said in disgust.
+
+"Yes, ridiculous, but serious," replied the missionary, "when you have
+to live with it year in and year out."
+
+"Crown Him Lord of All," insisted the Japanese spies, when they
+seriously reported a certain church for singing that old hymn was
+"Dangerous Thought." It seemed to this ignorant spy that "Crowning Him"
+was putting some other power before that of the Japanese Government.
+
+"All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name" has been put under the ban and when
+a certain missionary woman was asked to sing at the Korean Y.M.C.A. and
+announced that she was going to sing "Oh, Rest in the Lord" she was
+advised not to sing it because it was considered by the gendarmes to be
+"Dangerous Thought" and to suggest "Liberty," "Freedom" and such
+dangerous words and ideas.
+
+When one Protestant preacher prayed about "Casting Out Devils" he was
+reported by Japanese spies, who insisted that he was talking about
+Japanese in Korea and meant that these should be cast out of the land.
+
+"'It is to laugh!' as the French say!" I responded to this story.
+
+"No! It is to weep!" said the American missionary.
+
+When Dr. Frank W. Schoefield spoke against Prostitution the Japanese
+papers declared that he had made a virulent attack on the Government.
+
+One Korean preacher who preached on a theme from Luke 4:18, which reads
+"Setting the captives free," was arrested and kept in jail for four
+days.
+
+"It is very foolish to yell 'Mansei' when you know you will be killed,"
+I said to a Korean preacher. I wanted to see how he would take that
+suggestion.
+
+"We Koreans would rather be under the ground than on top of it if we do
+not get our liberty!" he said with a thrill in his quiet voice.
+
+One day a Korean preacher was arrested for preaching on the theme, "Seek
+ye first the Kingdom of God and all these things shall be added unto
+you," because that was, without doubt, disloyal to Japan and meant
+rebellion.
+
+Another day a speaker in the Y.M.C.A. said, "Arise and let us build for
+the new age!" He was asked to report to Police Headquarters just what he
+meant by that kind of "Dangerous" talk about Freedom.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FAILURE
+
+
+Three great Flash-lights of Failure stand out in the Far East and the
+Oriental world to-day; one being the failure of a race to survive,
+another being the failure of the world to understand that Shantung is
+the Holy Land and not the appendix of China; this sacred shrine of the
+Chinese which has so carelessly and listlessly been given over to Japan;
+and the third being Japan's failure to understand that methods of
+barbarism from the Dark Ages will not work in a modern civilization.
+
+"Why are they making all this fuss over Shantung?" an acquaintance of
+mine said to me just before I left America. "Isn't it just a sort of an
+appendix of China, after all? If I were the Chinese, I'd forget Shantung
+and go on to centralize and develop what I had."
+
+That was glibly said, but the fact which the statement leaves out of
+reckoning is that Shantung is the very heart and soul of China instead
+of being the appendix.
+
+The average American has so often thought of China just as China; a
+great, big, indefinite, far-off nation of four hundred million people,
+always stated in round numbers, that Shantung doesn't mean much to us.
+Yes, but it means much to China.
+
+It means about the same as if some nation should come along and take New
+England from us; New England, the seat of all our most sacred history,
+the beginning of our national life, the oldest of our traditions, the
+burial-place of our early founders, the seat of our religious genesis. I
+don't believe that many folks in New England would desire to be called
+an appendix of the United States.
+
+So one of the things that I was determined to do when I went to China
+was to go from one end of Shantung to the other, talking with coolies,
+officials, old men and young men, students, and those who can neither
+read nor write; missionaries and soldiers; natives and foreigners; to
+see just what importance Shantung is to China as a whole.
+
+The first thing I discovered was that it has about forty million people
+living within the limits of the peninsula, close to half the population
+of the United States. Does that sound as if it might be China's
+appendix? You wouldn't think so if you saw the cities, roads and fields
+of this great stretch of land literally swarming with human beings, and
+every last one of them, as busy as ants.
+
+I rode one whole day across the peninsula. I happened to be traveling
+with a man from Kansas. He was a man interested in farming and
+wheat-growing. For hundreds of miles we had been passing through land
+that was absolutely level and every inch of it cultivated. I had been
+saying to myself over and over again, "Why, it's exactly like our Middle
+West Country."
+
+Then much to my astonishment this Kansas man turned to me, and said,
+"Did it ever occur to you that these fields of Shantung look just like
+Kansas?"
+
+"Yes, it has just occurred to me this minute," I responded.
+
+Then the wife of the Kansas man said, "I have been shutting my eyes and
+trying to imagine that I was in Kansas, it's so much like home."
+
+"And say, man, but a tractor on those fields would work wonders," added
+a portion of William Allen White's reading constituency.
+
+And that is exactly how Shantung strikes an American when he has ridden
+all day through its great stretches of level fields. He can easily
+imagine himself riding through Kansas for a day.
+
+My first visit to Shantung was at Tsingtao, the headquarters of the
+German concession and now of the Japanese concession. I spent a day
+there, and took photographs of the wharves and town. On the wharves
+were still standing hundreds of boxes marked with German names and the
+inevitable phrase "Made in Germany." Those boxes were mute reminders of
+the evacuation of one nation from a foreign soil. But standing side by
+side with these boxes were also other hundreds, already being shot into
+Shantung in a steady stream; and these boxes have a new trademark
+printed in every case in English and Japanese, "Made in Japan."
+
+I spent several days in Tsinanfu and Tientsin, two great inland cities,
+and more than a week in cruising about through Shantung's little towns,
+its villages and its sacred spots.
+
+I heard of its mines and of its physical wealth. But the world already
+knows of that. The world already knows that this physical wealth of
+mines and raw material was what made it look good to Germany and Japan.
+But the thing that impressed me was its spiritual wealth.
+
+The thing that makes Shantung attractive to the Japanese, of course, is
+not the spiritual wealth, as the world well knows. Perhaps the Japanese
+have never considered the latter any more than the Germans did; but the
+one thing that makes it most sacred to the Chinese, who are, after all,
+a race of idealists, is its treasuries of spiritual memories and
+shrines.
+
+In the first place, many Chinese will tell you that it is the "cradle of
+the Chinese race." I am not sure that histories will confirm this
+statement. And I am also not sure that that makes any difference as long
+as the idea is buried in the heart of the Chinese people. A tradition
+often means as much to a race as a fact. And the tradition certainly is
+well established that Shantung is the birthplace of all Chinese history.
+So that is one of the deeply rooted spiritual facts that makes Shantung
+sacred to the Chinese.
+
+The second spiritual gold mine is that one of its cities, Chufu, is the
+birthplace and the last resting-place of the sage Confucius. And China
+is literally impregnated with Confusian philosophy and Confucian
+sayings.
+
+I took a trip to this shrine in order to catch some of the spiritual
+atmosphere of the Shantung loss. The trip made it necessary to tramp
+about fifteen miles coming and going through as dusty a desert as I ever
+saw, but that was a trifle compared with the thrill that I had as I
+stood at last before the little mound about as high as a California
+bungalow; the mound that held the dust of this great Chinese sage.
+During the war I stood before the grave of Napoleon in France. Before I
+went to France I visited Grant's tomb. I have also stood many times
+beside a little mound in West Virginia, the resting-place of my mother,
+and I think that I know something of the sacredness of such experiences
+to a human heart, but somehow the thrill that came to me on that January
+morning, warm with sunlight, spicy with winter cold, produced a feeling
+too deep for mere printed words to convey.
+
+"If we feel as we do standing here on this sacred spot, think of how the
+Chinese feel toward their own sage!" said an old missionary of the
+party.
+
+"Yes," added another, "and remember that the Chinese revere their
+ancestors and their sages and their shrines more than we ever dream of
+doing. Any grave is a sacred spot to them, so much so that railroads
+have to run their trunk lines for miles in a detour to avoid graves.
+These Chinese are idealists of the first water. They live in the past,
+and they dream of the future."
+
+"When you get these facts into your American heads," added a third
+member of the party, not without some bitterness, "then you will begin
+to know that the Chinese do not estimate the loss of Shantung in terms
+of mineral wealth."
+
+At Chufu, the resting-place of Confucius, there is also the spot of his
+birth, and this too is most sacred to the Chinese nation. We visited
+both places. I think that I never before quite realized just what the
+loss of Shantung meant to these Chinese until that day, unless it was
+the next day, when we climbed the sacred mountain Taishan, which is
+also in Shantung.
+
+"It is the oldest worshiping-place in the world," said the historian of
+the party. "There is no other spot on earth where continuous worship has
+gone on so long. Here for more than twenty centuries before Christ was
+born men and women were worshiping. Emperors from the oldest history of
+China down to the present time have all visited this mountain to
+worship. Confucius himself climbed the more than six thousand steps to
+worship here."
+
+"Yes," said another missionary historian, "and this mountain is referred
+to twelve separate times in the Chinese classics, and great pilgrimages
+were made here as long ago as two centuries before Christ."
+
+That day we climbed the mountain up more than six thousand stone steps,
+which are in perfect condition and which were engineered thousands of
+years ago by early worshipers.
+
+The only climb with which I can compare that of Mt. Taishan is that of
+Mt. Tamalpais overlooking San Francisco. The climb is about equal to
+that. The mountain itself is about a mile in height, and the climb is a
+hard one to those who are unaccustomed to mountain-climbing, and yet
+thousands upon thousands climb it every year after pilgrimages from all
+over China.
+
+We climbed to the top of Taishan, and saw the "No-Character Stone"
+erected by Emperor Chin, he who tried to drive learning out of China
+hundreds of years ago. We saw the spot on which Confucius stood, and
+glimpsed the Pacific Ocean, ninety miles away, on a clear day. It was a
+hard climb; but, when one stood on the top of this, the most sacred
+mountain of all China, he began to understand the spiritual loss that is
+China's when her worshiping-place is in the hands of aliens.
+
+"And don't forget that Mencius, the first disciple of Confucius, was
+born and died in Shantung, too, when you are taking census of the
+spiritual values of Shantung to the Chinese," was a word of caution from
+the old missionary who was checking up on my facts for me. He had been
+laboring in China for a quarter of a century.
+
+"And don't forget that the Boxer uprising originated in Shantung, and
+don't forget that it is called, and has been for centuries, 'the Sacred
+Province' by the Chinese. It is their 'Holy Land.' And don't forget
+that, from Shantung, coolies went to South Africa in the early part of
+this century and that the Chinese from Shantung were the first to get in
+touch with the western world. And don't forget that nine-tenths of the
+coolies who went to help in the war in France were from Shantung!" he
+added with emphasis. This was a thing that I well knew, for I had, only
+a few weeks before this, seen two thousand coolies unloaded from the
+_Empress of Asia_ at Tsingtao.
+
+No, Shantung is not an appendix of China, as many Americans suppose; but
+it is the very heart and soul of China. It is China's "Holy Land." It is
+the "Cradle of China." It is the "Sacred Province of China." It is the
+shrine of her greatest sage. It is the home of "the oldest
+worshiping-place on earth." It is because of its spiritual values that
+China is unhappy about the loss of Shantung, and not because of its
+wealth of material things.
+
+The failure of the world to understand what Shantung means to China and
+the failure of Japan to understand that they cannot for many years stand
+out against the indignation of the entire world in continuing to keep
+Shantung is one of the great spiritual failures of the Far East in our
+century.
+
+The second great failure is the tragic failure of an entire race of
+people; that of the Ainu Indians of Japan.
+
+It is a pathetic thing to see a human race dying out; coming to "The End
+of the Trail." But I was determined to see them, in spite of the fact
+that people told me I would have to travel from one end of Japan to the
+other; and then cross four hours of sea before I got to Hokkaido, the
+most northern island of Japan, where lived the tattered remnants of
+this once noble race.
+
+The name of this dying race is pronounced as if it were spelled I-new
+with a long I.
+
+These are the people who inhabited Japan before the present Japanese
+entered the land from Korea and drove them, inch by inch, back and north
+and west across Japan. It was a stubborn fight, and it has lasted many
+centuries; but to-day they have been driven up on the island of
+Hokkaido, that northern frontier of Japan where the overflow of Japan is
+pouring at the rate of four thousand a year, making two million to date
+and only about fifty thousand of them Ainus.
+
+"Are they like our American Indians in looks, since their history is so
+much like them?" I asked my missionary friend.
+
+"Wait until you see them, and decide for yourself. I know very little
+about American Indians."
+
+So one morning at three o'clock, after traveling for two days and nights
+from one end of Japan to the other, and then crossing a strait between
+the Japan Sea and the Pacific Ocean to the island, we climbed from our
+train, and landed in a little country railroad station.
+
+It was blowing a blizzard, and the snow crashed into our faces with
+stinging, whip-like snaps.
+
+I was appointed stoker for the small stove in the station while the
+rest of the party tried to sleep on the benches arranged in a circle,
+huddled as close as they could get to the stove.
+
+We were the first party of foreigners of this size that had ever honored
+the village with a visit. And in addition to that we had come at an
+unearthly hour.
+
+Who but a group of insane foreigners would drop into a town at three
+o'clock in the morning with a blizzard blowing? Either we were insane,
+or we had some sinister motives. Perhaps we were making maps of the
+seacoast.
+
+And before daylight half of the town was peeking in through the windows
+at us. Then the policemen came. They were Japanese policemen, and did
+not take any chances on us. Even after our interpreter had told them
+that we were a group of scientists who had come to visit the Ainus they
+still followed us around most of the morning, keeping polite track of
+our movements.
+
+About five o'clock that morning, as I was trying to catch a cat-nap, the
+newsboys of the village came to get the morning papers which had come in
+on the train on which we had arrived. They unbundled the papers in the
+cold station; their breath forming clouds of vapor; laughing and joking
+as they unrolled, folded and counted the papers; and arranged their
+routes for morning delivery.
+
+It took me back to boyhood days down in West Virginia. I did the same
+thing as these Japanese boys were doing. I, too, arose before daylight,
+climbed out of bed, and went whistling through the dark streets to the
+station where the early morning trains dumped off the papers from the
+city. I, too, along with several other American boys of a winter
+morning, breathed clouds of vapor into the air, stamped my feet to keep
+them warm, and whipped my hands against my sides. I, too, unwrapped the
+big bundles of papers, and did it in the same way in which these
+Japanese boys did, by smashing the tightly bound wrappers on the floor
+until they burst. I, too, counted, folded, put in inserts, arranged my
+paper-route and darted out into the frosty air with the snow crunching
+under my feet. How universal some things are. The only difference was
+that these boys were dressed in a sort of buccaneer uniform. They had on
+high leather boots, and belts around their coats that made them look as
+if they had stepped out of a Richard Harding Davis novel. But otherwise
+they went through the same processes as an American boy in a small town.
+
+When the vanguard of villagers had come to inspect us, they at first
+tried to talk Russian to us. They had never seen any other kind of
+foreigners. They had never seen Americans in this far-off island.
+
+When daylight came, we started out on a long tramp to the Ainu villages.
+They were a mile or two away on the ocean. These people always build
+near the sea if they can. Fishing is one of their main sources of food.
+
+We spent the day in their huts. They live like animals. A big, square
+hut covered with rice straw and thatch, with a fence of the same kind of
+straw running around the house, forms the residence. The only fire is in
+the middle of the only room, and this consists of a pile of wood burning
+on a flat stone or piece of metal in the center. There is no chimney in
+the roof, and not even an opening such as the American Indians had in
+the tops of their tepees. I do not know how they live. The smoke finds
+its way gradually through cracks in the walls and roofs. One can hardly
+find a single Ainu whose eyes are not ruined. The smoke has done this
+damage.
+
+The only opening in their houses besides the door is one north window,
+and it is never closed. In fact, there is no window. It is only an
+opening.
+
+"Why is that? I'd think they would freeze on a day like this," I said to
+the guide.
+
+"They keep it that way all winter, and it gets a good deal below zero
+here," he said.
+
+"But why do they do it?" old Shylock demanded.
+
+"It is part of their religion. They believe that the god comes in that
+window. They want it open, so that he can come in whenever he wishes. It
+offends them greatly when you stick your head through that window."
+
+Pat tried it just to see what would happen, just like a man who looks
+into the barrel of a gun, or a man who takes a watch apart, or wants to
+hit a "dud" with a hammer just to see whether it is a dud. The result
+was bad. There was a sudden series of outlandish yells from the
+household. I think that every man, woman and child, including the dogs,
+of which there were many, started at once. I wonder now how Pat escaped
+alive, and only under the assumption that "the good die young" can I
+explain his escape.
+
+I wanted some arrows to take to America as souvenirs; and, when an old
+Indian pulled out a lot of metal arrows on long bows with which he had
+killed more than a hundred bears, I was not satisfied. They were not the
+kind of arrows I wanted.
+
+"What kind are you looking for?" I was asked.
+
+"Flint arrow-heads," I responded.
+
+"Why, man, these Indians have known the use of metals for five hundred
+years. The stone age with them is half a thousand years in the past."
+
+"Have they a history?" I wanted to know.
+
+My interpreter, who has much knowledge of these things, having worked
+among them for years, said, "All of the Japanese mythology is centered
+about the battles that took place when these Indians were driven out of
+Japan proper step by step."
+
+I was surprised to find that they were white people compared with the
+Japanese who were their conquerors. There are other marked differences.
+The Ainus are broad between the eyes instead of narrow as are the
+Japanese. They are rather square-headed like Americans as compared with
+the oval of the Japanese face. They do not have markedly slant eyes, and
+they are white-skinned. They might feel at home in any place in America.
+I have seen many old men at home who look like them, old men with
+beards. This came as a distinct surprise to me.
+
+At each house, just in front of the ever-open window of which I have
+spoken, there is a little crude shrine. It is more like a small fence
+than anything that I know, a most crude affair made of broken bamboo
+poles. Flowers and vines are planted here to beautify this shrine, and
+every pole has a bear-skull on it. The more bear-skulls you have, the
+safer you are and the more religious you have become.
+
+Pat was sacrilegious enough to steal a skull in order to get the teeth,
+which he wanted as souvenirs. I was chagrined and shocked at Pat's lack
+of religious propriety. However, I was enticed into accepting one of the
+teeth after Pat had knocked them out and stolen them.
+
+"How do they worship bears and kill them at the same time?" I queried
+the guide.
+
+"That's a part of the worship. They kill the bear, slowly singing and
+chanting as they kill him. They think that the spirit of every bear that
+they kill comes into their own souls. That's why they kill so many. That
+seventy-year-old rascal over there has killed a hundred. He is a great
+man in his tribe."
+
+"If I was a bear," commented Pat, "I'd rather they wouldn't worship me.
+That's a funny way to show reverence to a god. I'd rather be their devil
+and live than be their god and die." Pat is sometimes loquacious. "They
+dance about the poor old bear as they kill him. One fellow will hurl an
+arrow into his side, and then cry out, 'O spirit of the great bear-god,
+come enter into me, and make me strong and brave like you! Come, take up
+thine abode in my house! Come, be a part of me! Let thy strength and thy
+courage be my strength and my courage!'"
+
+"Then," said the interpreter, "he hurls another arrow into him."
+
+"And what is Mr. Bear doing all that time?"
+
+"Mr. Bear is helpless. He is captured first in a trap, and then kept and
+fattened for the killing. He is tied to a tree during the killing
+ceremony."
+
+"All I gotta say is that they're darned poor sports," said Flintlock
+with indignation. "They're poor sports not to give Mr. Bear a fighting
+chance."
+
+And old Flintlock has voiced the sentiments of the entire party.
+
+Everybody that was at the Panama Pacific International Exposition will
+remember the magnificent statue of an Indian there. This Indian was
+riding a horse, and both were worn out and drooping. A spear which
+dragged on the ground in front of the pony was further evidence of the
+weariness of the horse and rider. The title of this Fraser bronze was
+"The End of the Trail," and it was intended to tell the story of a
+vanishing race, the American Indians. But even more could that picture
+tell the story of the Ainus of Japan.
+
+"They will be entirely extinct in a quarter of a century," our guide
+said. "They are going fast. They used to be vigorous and militant, as
+Japanese mythology shows. They were a fighting race. They built their
+houses by the sea. They used to go out for miles to fish, but now they
+are so petered out that they go only to the mouths of the rivers to
+fish. They used to hunt in the mountains, but they do not take
+hunting-trips any more. Venereal diseases and rum (saki) have depleted
+them year by year, just as in the case of our American Indians. They are
+largely sterile now. They used to build their own boats, but they build
+no more. It is a biological old age. Their day is through."
+
+"It is a sad thing to see a race dying out," said Pat.
+
+"Especially a white race, as these Ainus seem to be," said another
+member of the party.
+
+And back to the village we went silently, plodding through a driving
+blizzard that bore in upon us with terrific force. As we fought our way
+through this blizzard, I could not help feeling a great sense of
+depression. It is a fearful thing to see anything die, especially a race
+of human beings. That is a great epic tragedy worthy of a Shakespeare.
+That is enough to wring the soul of the gods. That a race has played the
+game, has been powerful and conquering and triumphant, and then step by
+step has petered out and become weak and senile until biological decay
+has set in--that is fearful.
+
+Another illustration of the ignominious failure of a lower type of mind
+to understand a higher type of mind is set forth in the following
+letter which was written at my request by a missionary whom I met in San
+Francisco just as the final chapters of this book were being written.
+
+The first time I met this missionary was in Seoul, Korea.
+
+I have been told so many times that the cruelties in Korea have been
+stopped. Certain men said that they had been stopped immediately after
+the Independence Movement, but they were not stopped. At frequent
+intervals the American press is flooded with statements which come from
+Japanese press sources that the outrages in Korea have ceased.
+
+I said to this missionary, who had just arrived from Korea, "Is it true
+that the cruelties have stopped in Korea?"
+
+"No! They have not stopped! They have not even diminished! They are
+getting worse, rather than better!"
+
+"Would you be willing to write out, in your own handwriting, a few
+things that you know yourself which have occurred since I was in Korea
+so that the book which I am writing may be accurate and up to date in
+its facts?"
+
+"I will be glad to do that for you! We who are missionaries dare not
+speak the truth!"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"If we did the Japanese Government would never let us get back to our
+people!"
+
+"Then you may talk through me, if you are willing to do it. I want the
+truth to get to the American people!"
+
+"I am not only willing but I am eager to talk!" said this missionary and
+wrote out the following story of cruelty against an educated and
+cultured Korean, who was the Religious and Educational Director in the
+Seoul Y.M.C.A. This story of the latest Japanese barbarisms I pass on to
+the reader in this chapter to illustrate another ignominious Hun failure
+to understand that the practices of the Dark Ages will not work in this
+century:
+
+    "On May 26th, 1920, just as Mr. Choi was coming out of his
+    class room he was met by two detectives, one Korean and one
+    Japanese, who informed him that he was wanted at the Central
+    Police Station. Here he was turned over to the Chief of Police
+    and thrown into a room and kept all day. Mr. Brockman and Cynn
+    both made several attempts to find out why he was arrested.
+    Each time they were given an evasive answer. Finally Mr. Cynn
+    insisted that they tell him the cause of the arrest. It was
+    finally discovered that he was wanted in Pyengyang on certain
+    charges. He was to leave Seoul that evening on the 11 p.m.
+    train. Anxious to see how Mr. Choi was being treated, Mr. Cynn
+    and several of the Y.M.C.A. men went down to the station. Mr.
+    Choi with the other six students were standing on the platform.
+    Apparently Mr. Choi was not bound as is the usual custom.
+    Closer observation, however, revealed the fact that his hands
+    were bound with cords, but in his case the ropes were placed on
+    the inside instead of the outside, of the clothes. He arrived
+    in Pyengyang the next day, May 27, at 5 p.m. Instead of taking
+    Mr. Choi first they called in one of the students whose name is
+    Chai Pony Am. After the usual preliminary questions these
+    inquisitors of the Dark Ages said, 'We know all about you
+    everything you have done. There is no use for you to deny
+    anything. You make a clean confession of everything.' Mr. Choi
+    replied, 'I have done nothing. If I knew what you wanted, I
+    would tell you.' More pressure was urged in the way of
+    bombastic speech. Finally the police said, 'If you won't tell
+    of your own free will we will make you tell!' Then the
+    tortures, which the Government published broadcast had been
+    done away with, began. They brought out a round stool with four
+    legs and laid it down on its side with the sharp legs up and
+    made him strip naked. Then they took the silken bands (about 2
+    in. wide) and placing his hands behind his back until the
+    shoulder blades touched begun bending the arm from the wrist
+    very tight. This completed, they made him kneel upon the sharp
+    edge of the legs of the stool with his shins. Then they took
+    the bamboo paddle (this is made of two strips of bamboo about 2
+    in. wide and 2 ft. long wound with cord) and begun beating him
+    on the head, face, back, feet and thighs. Every time they
+    struck him his body would move and the movement cause the shins
+    to rub on the sharp edges of the stool. To further increase the
+    pain they took lighted cigarettes and burnt his flesh. This was
+    continued until the student fainted and fell off. They then
+    would restore the patient by artificial respiration and when he
+    refused to confess, continued the torture. This process was
+    continued for 45 minutes and then the student was put into a
+    dark cell and kept for three days. Upon the third day he was
+    again brought before these _just_ policemen and asked if he
+    were ready to confess. Said they, 'If you do not tell us this
+    time we will kill you. You see how the waters of the Tai Pong
+    (the river at Pyengyang) wear smooth these stones. That is what
+    we do with those who come in here. Many have been killed in
+    here. Your life is not worth as much as a fly.' He was
+    tortured in the same manner as before and then put back into
+    the cell for another three days. This process was continued
+    every three days for two weeks.
+
+    "When Mr. Choi, the educational director of the Y.M.C.A. was
+    called in the police said, 'You are an educated gentleman and
+    we propose to give you the gentleman's treatment. We do not
+    want to treat you like ordinary men. Now we want you to tell us
+    what your thoughts have been and are. Make a confession of
+    anything you have done since March 1st, 1919.' Mr. Choi said,
+    'What do you want me to confess? If you will give me a little
+    time I will write you out something.' This they refused to do
+    and said, 'Since you refuse to tell us we will make you tell.
+    We will treat you like all other dogs.' Then they forcibly took
+    off his clothes, and proceeded to bind him in the same manner
+    as the previous student. After being bound he was placed on the
+    stool and beaten. He did not lose his consciousness but fell
+    off the stool, and then was placed back and the same process
+    continued. When Mr. Choi fell off the stool the bands on his
+    arms were loosened and they proceeded to unloosen and rewind
+    his arms. This time they wound them tighter than before. At the
+    ends of these bands are brass rings which are placed next to
+    the flesh and made to press upon the nerves. This time Mr. Choi
+    said as they wound his right arm he felt a sharp pain and at
+    once noticed that he had lost the use of his arm. It was
+    paralyzed. Mr. Choi was tortured five times in all--one every
+    three days. The first torture lasted one hour and the
+    succeeding ones were less severe than the first. At the end of
+    two weeks, June 10th, Mr. Choi and the six students with him
+    were called before a police captain who said to the students,
+    'There is nothing against you. Some bad Korean has testified
+    falsely against you. We are sorry you have suffered but you can
+    now go free.' However to Mr. Choi he said, 'You must remain
+    here a week yet. You are still under police supervision. Go to
+    ---- hotel and stay.' On June 16th the police came to the hotel
+    where he was staying and said, 'You may go down to Seoul
+    tonight.' Mr. Choi arrived in Seoul on the 17th and gave this
+    testimony. His arm is still paralyzed."
+
+And so it is that these great failures stand out: the failure of a race
+of people to survive; the failure of the American people to estimate the
+loss of Shantung at its proper valuation spiritually, and the failure of
+Japan to understand that Korea is still and ever shall be _Korea the
+Unconquered_; this Korea which I call "The Wild Boar at Bay."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+FLASH-LIGHTS OF FRIENDSHIP
+
+
+We were running down the Samabs River in a small Dutch ship, the
+_Merkeus_. This river, running almost parallel to the Equator, and not
+more than fifty miles away from that well-known institution, cuts the
+western end of Borneo in two, and lends phenomenal fertility to its
+soil.
+
+Shooting around a bend in the river, suddenly there loomed on the
+western shores, so close that we could throw a stone and hit it, a tree
+that was leafless, dead as a volcanic dump; but its dead branches
+literally swarmed with monkeys. The light in the west had so far gone
+that they appeared as silent silhouettes against the sunset Their tails,
+which seemed to be about three feet long, and were curled at the ends,
+hung below the dead branches. One big fellow had perched himself on the
+tiptop of the tree, and in the dim light he looked like a human sentinel
+as his black outline appeared against the evening light.
+
+Then came Missionary Worthington's story about Kin Thung, the boy who,
+with characteristic Oriental spirit, had quick murder in his heart:
+
+"It was while I was the head of the Boys' School down in Batavia, Java,
+that it happened. One has experiences out here in dealing with youth
+that he does not get at home, for it is inflammable material, explosive
+to the highest degree."
+
+I waited for his story to continue as the Dutch ship glided swiftly down
+the river toward the South China Sea, and night settled over us as we
+sat there on the upper deck, watching the crimson glory change into
+sudden purple.
+
+"I heard a noise and I knew there was a fight on in the dormitory. I had
+seen the aftermath of such Malay and Chinese feuds in our schools
+before, and I knew that it was no trivial matter, as it often is with
+boy fights at home, so I hurried up.
+
+"When I got there I saw Kin Thung wiping his knife, and the boy he had
+been fighting lying on the floor, bleeding from a long wound."
+
+"What had happened?"
+
+"Kin Thung was a quick-tempered boy. In addition to that, he was of a
+sullen make-up, with, what I call, a criminal tendency in him. That,
+added to his already volatile spirit, made him a real problem in the
+school. For instance, he was the kind of a boy who, if a teacher called
+on him without warning to recite, he would get uncontrollably angry,
+turn sullen and refuse to answer."
+
+"Why didn't you fire him?" I said.
+
+"That would have been the easy thing to do. I preferred to win him
+rather than to fire him!"
+
+I felt ashamed of myself for my suggestion, and looked out into the
+night skies where the beautiful form of the southern cross loomed in the
+zenith.
+
+"No, I didn't fire him."
+
+"What did you do?"
+
+"As I was dressing the boy's wound Kin Thung stood looking on, utterly
+expressionless and unrepentant, even sullen.
+
+"I didn't say anything to Kin that night, save to ask him to come to the
+office the next day.
+
+"The other boys were calling out to him as he entered, and I could hear
+them through the window, 'I wonder how many strokes of the rattan he
+will get?' for that is one of our forms of punishment.
+
+"He was no doubt wondering himself when he entered, still sullen.
+
+"I said to him, 'Kin, I could give you as punishment a hundred strokes
+of the rattan. I could put you on rice and water for a month, or I could
+put you to a room for a week in solitary confinement. But I am not
+going to do either or any of them. I am going to pray for you!"
+
+"'I don't want you to, sir!' he cried in alarm.
+
+"'Kneel down!' I said to him.
+
+"'I don't want to.'
+
+"'Kneel down, I say!'
+
+"'I won't!'
+
+"'But this is your punishment. You would submit to the rattan if I
+imposed that. You must submit to this!' I said.
+
+"'I hate prayer!'
+
+"'Kneel down, boy!'
+
+"He knelt. I prayed. He wept."
+
+This was the cryptic way the missionary came to the climax of his story.
+Again the Southern Cross shot into view as we turned a curve in the
+river.
+
+"The fountain broke. A boy's heart was won! I didn't have to fire him. I
+won him!"
+
+"That lad came to me two years later as he started out from our school
+in Batavia, and said, 'Mr. Worthington, that moment when you called me
+into your office was the crucial moment of my life. If you had been
+unkind to me then; if you had punished me, even as much as I deserved
+it; if you had not been Christ-like, I should have killed you. I had my
+knife ready. There was a demon in me! Your kindness, your praying for
+me, broke something inside of me. I guess it was my heart. I cried. I
+prayed. That morning saved my soul!'"
+
+"That was a marvelous experience, Mr. Missionary! It was a marvelous way
+to meet the situation," I said in a low tone, looking up at the white
+outline of the Southern Cross, and remembering two thieves.
+
+"It was Christ's way!" said the missionary.
+
+But perhaps the outstanding Flash-light of national Friendship is that
+of America for the Philippines. I shall never forget the day we started
+southward from winter-bound China for sun-warmed Manila.
+
+As the great ship swung about in the muddy waters of the Yangsti and
+turned southward, the bitter winds of winter were blowing across her
+deserted decks. But in two days one felt not only a breath of warm
+tropical winds on his face but he also felt a breath of warmer
+friendship blowing into his soul as he thought of the Philippines and
+America.
+
+The first breath of warm winds from southern tropical seas gently kissed
+one's cheeks that afternoon. It was a soothing breath of romance,
+freighted with the scent of tropical trees. It was much of a contrast
+with the bitter winter winds that had blown the day before at Shanghai.
+There the snow was flying, and woolen suits were greatly needed.
+
+But to-night men and women alike walk the decks of this Manila-bound
+ship. They are all in white. One stands at the bow of the ship, glad to
+catch the salt spray on tanned cheeks, glad to feel the sea-touched
+winds playing with his hair, glad to see fair women of the Orient tanned
+with summer suns; for it is summer in the Philippines, while winter
+reigns in China and the rest of the Oriental lands further north.
+
+Last night we passed the narrow straits leading out of Shanghai harbor
+directly south. Two lighthouses blinked through the dusk of evening, the
+one to the north in short sharp notes, like a musician of the sea
+singing coasts, rapidly beating time. The light to the south seemed to
+count four in blinks and then hold its last count like a note of music.
+In between the two lighthouses vague, dim, mist-belted mountains of the
+China coast loomed through the dusk.
+
+This morning and all day long we have been sailing past the huge
+outlines of mountainous Formosa, that rich island off the coast of
+China, between Shanghai and Manila. It looks like some fairly island
+with its coves and caves, into which pours the purple sea, visible
+through the faint mists of morning and noontime. Its precipitous sides
+shoot down to the sea in great bare cliffs, save where, here and there,
+a beautiful bay runs in from the southern sea to kiss the green lips of
+the land.
+
+But now the sun is setting. I am watching it from my stateroom window.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And now it is the rainy season in the Philippines.
+
+It doesn't rain in Luzon; it opens up clouds, and oceans suddenly drop
+to the land. Lakes and rivers form overnight. Bridges wash out, fields
+are inundated, houses by thousands are swept away, and railroad tracks
+twisted and played with, as if they were grappled by gigantic fists.
+
+Men will tell you of the great Typhoon that suddenly dropped out of the
+mountains at Baguio, sliced off a few sections of the mountains, rushed
+down through the great gorge, and left in its trail the iron ruins of
+eight or ten bridges, put in by American engineers, founded on solid
+granite; but swept away like playthings of wood, in an hour.
+
+One night we were driving from Baguio to Manila.
+
+A storm dropped suddenly out of the nowhere. We had no side curtains on,
+and in just three minutes we were soaked to the skin, and dripping
+streams of water. The artesian wells along the way were but dribbling
+springs compared with us.
+
+The storm came out of a clear, star-lit sky. Storms come that way in the
+Philippines. Only a few minutes before I had been looking up at the
+Southern Cross admiring its beauty. I looked again and there was no
+Southern Cross. A few great drops of rain fell and then came the deluge.
+
+Candle lights flickered in innumerable thatched houses where brown and
+naked women fluttered about dodging the rain, looking strangely like
+great paintings in the night. At the edge of each side porch a Bamboo
+ladder reached up from the ground. A fire burned against the rain. This
+fire leapt up for two feet.
+
+One could easily imagine on this stormy night, with every road a river,
+every field a flood, and every vacant space a sea, that the thatched
+houses raised on Bamboo poles were boats, afloat in a great ocean. The
+fires on the back porches looked for all the world like the fires that I
+have seen flaring against the night from Japanese fishing boats.
+
+We had been warm, personal friends since college days, this driver and
+I. He had chosen the harder way of the mission fields to spend his life.
+
+"After all," said he, "that was a dream worth dreaming!"
+
+"What do you mean?" I asked him, a bit startled.
+
+"Why the American occupation of these islands; the dream that McKinley
+had, of teaching them to govern themselves; and then giving them their
+independence; an Imperial Dream such as the world never heard of before;
+a dream that, if it has done nothing else, has won for America the
+undying friendship of the intelligent Filipino."
+
+"Right you are, man! But why such a thought at this ungodly hour? I
+should think rather that you would be sending out an S. O. S."
+
+"Dunno! Just flashed over me that that was a dream worth dreaming; and,
+by gad, boy, we're seeing it come to pass. Look at those contented
+people living in peace and security; their home fires lighted; their
+children in school; plenty to eat; not afraid that to-morrow morning
+some Friar will sell their home from under them. No wonder they have
+given their undying friendship to America!"
+
+He continued as we sped through the rain.
+
+"England and Germany sneered at America's dream. Such a dream of
+friendship through serving its colony had never been born in any other
+national soul from the Genesis of colonization up to this day, save in
+the soul of America in the Philippines. We have set the ideals of the
+world in many ways but never in a more marked way than this.
+
+"The Phoenicians were the first colonizers and they swept the
+Mediterranean with a policy of exploitation and slavery which was
+selfish and sordid. Then came Greece which had some such ideal of
+colonization as America. Her ideal was, that colonies, like fruit from a
+tree, when ripe, should fall off of the mother tree. Or the ideal of
+Greece was that colonizing should come about like the swarming of bees."
+
+I nodded my head. He went on as we slashed through the muddy ways, "Rome
+with her Imperial dream, her army to back it up, failed as have failed
+both Germany and Japan; three nations with kindred ideals as to
+colonization.
+
+"Venice was cruel, adventurous and rapacious in her colonizing policy on
+the Black Sea and she left a record of exploitations which makes a black
+blotch on the world's pages.
+
+"Modern colonization began with Spain in South America, Mexico and the
+Philippines. Spain has nothing over which to boast in that record. The
+Dutch in Java, the record of Belgium in the Congo; that of the
+Portuguese in the Far East; the French in Africa; the English in India;
+Germany in China and Africa, and Japan in Korea, have not been entirely
+for the service of the subjected people, for all of these Governments
+have gone on the fundamental theory that the colony exists for the
+Mother States."
+
+He paused a moment as we made a cautious way around a big caribou. "Then
+came the great dream of America that the Mother State exists for the
+benefit of the colony.
+
+"Elihu Root said, 'We have declared a trust for the benefit of the
+people of the Philippine Islands!'
+
+"President William McKinley said: The government is designed not for
+exploitation nor for our own satisfaction, or for the expression of our
+theoretical views, but for the happiness, peace and prosperity of the
+people of the Philippine Islands.'
+
+"Ex-President Taft said when he was Governor-General of the Islands: The
+chief difference between the English policy and treatment of tropical
+peoples and ours, arises from the fact that we are seeking to prepare
+them under our guidance for popular self-government. We are attempting
+to do this, first by primary and secondary education offered freely to
+the Filipino people.'
+
+"This spirit has won the undying friendship of the Filipino people. True
+enough, they will finally want their independence. That is natural, but
+there is a deep love for America buried in their hearts because America
+has been square with them; has fulfilled her promises; has not
+exploited them, but has served them. That is why I call the colonization
+policy of America here in the Philippines a dream worth dreaming." My
+friend was right.
+
+"We love America, because America is our friend!" said a humble
+fisherman to me one day on the banks of the Pasig.
+
+"Yes, the United States; it is our own! You are our brothers!" said a
+Filipino boy who had been educated in a Mission school.
+
+"We are no longer our own. We belong to America. You have bought us with
+a price! It cost the blood of American soldiers to buy us!" said an old
+Filipino, gray with years, but high in the councils of the Government.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One night on the Lunetta the Filipino Band was playing. It was a
+beautiful evening with a sunset that lifted one into the very skies with
+its bewildering glory and ecstasy. I had been sitting there, drinking in
+the beautiful music made by the world-famous Constabulary Band, and
+watching the quicksilver-like changing colors of the sunset. Then the
+band started to play "The Star Spangled Banner." I was so lost in the
+sunset and the music that I did not notice.
+
+I heard a sudden stirring. Brown bodies, half-naked Filipinos all about
+me, had leapt to their feet at the playing of our national hymn.
+Beautiful Filipino women in their dainty and delicately winged gowns,
+bare brown shoulders heaving with pride and friendship, stood
+reverently. Filipino soldiers all over the Lunetta stood at attention
+facing the flag, the Stars and Stripes waving in the winds from the old
+walled city. Side by side with American soldiers who had just returned
+from Siberia stood Filipino Constabulary soldiers. Side by side with
+well-dressed American children stood half-naked Filipino children at
+reverent attention, paying a wholesome respect to the Stars and Stripes
+as the old hymn swept across the Lunetta.
+
+"That is a thrilling thing to see!" I said to a friend.
+
+"It could not have happened ten years ago! M he replied.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"They did not trust us, and they did not love us. They had seen too much
+of the selfish colonization policies of Spain. They expected the same
+things from America. It did not come. They have been won to us!"
+
+This warm-hearted friendship is not true either of England's colonies
+anywhere in the Orient or of Japan's in Formosa or Korea. It is true
+alone in the Philippines.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+While I was in the Philippines, down in San Fernando, a statue was
+erected to a well-known rebel. He was a man who had refused to take the
+oath of allegiance to America when we captured the islands. He escaped
+and carried on a propaganda against us. But when he died and a request
+was made that a statue be erected to his memory, the United States
+granted this permission.
+
+At the dedication of this statue the Governor of this Province said that
+he doubted if any nation on the face of the earth, save the United
+States, would have permitted the erection of such a statue to a rebel
+against that government. "That act will bind our hearts closer to the
+heart of the United States!" he said in closing his address. The
+thrilling thing about it all was, that his address was met with
+prolonged cheering on the part of the thousands of Filipinos who had
+gathered for the dedication.
+
+Another evidence of this beautiful friendship for America is the
+painting which adorns the walls of one of the Government buildings in
+Manila. It is called "The Welcome to America." It was purchased, paid
+for and erected by Filipinos; erected in good will, with laughter in
+their souls, and joy in their hearts.
+
+It was painted by Hidalgo in Paris in 1904.
+
+High colors; reds, browns, yellows, golds, blues, purples; tell its
+story. It adorns the panel at the end of the Senate Chamber of the
+Filipino Government.
+
+It has spirit in it and a great, deep sincerity.
+
+The central figure is a beautiful woman, symbolic of America. She comes
+across the Pacific carrying the gifts of peace, prosperity, security and
+love to her colony, the Philippines.
+
+She carries in one hand the American flag. At her side is Youth bearing
+a Harp, symbol of the music that America brings into the souls of the
+people whom she comes to serve. Singing angels hover about the scene.
+
+Above the central figure of America, on angel wings, is a Youth carrying
+a lighted torch. To the left is a beautiful brown-skinned Filipino woman
+with eyes uplifted to this torch. She bears within her ample bosom the
+children of the islands. The torch is symbol of the fact that we are
+handing on the light of our Christian civilization to the children of
+our colonies.
+
+I visited this painting many times, but I never visited it that I did
+not see many Filipinos, both young and old, standing before it, with
+reverent eyes.
+
+I said to a high official of the Government, "Does that painting
+represent the way you Filipinos feel to-day?"
+
+"Hidalgo has spoken for us. He has voiced our feelings well!" was the
+reply.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+This friendship for the United States is a thrilling thing found all
+over the Far East. One finds it in Korea, as well as in the Philippines,
+like a burning light of glory. Korea says, "America is our only hope! We
+have always trusted and loved America!"
+
+One finds it like a silver stream running through the life of China. Dr.
+Sun Yat Sen said to me in Shanghai: "America has always been China's
+staunch friend! America we trust! America we love! America is our hope!
+America is our model!"
+
+Mr. Tang Shao-yi said, "America's hands and those of America alone are
+clean in her relations with China. This cannot be said of the other
+nations."
+
+Then he told me a thrilling story of the Boxer Rebellion. He, with two
+thousand Chinese, who were Government officials, were barricaded in a
+compound behind the usual Chinese walls. The Boxers were firing on them
+every day. They had run out of food. In fact, they were starving.
+
+But one morning a bright-faced American boy appeared at the gates of the
+wall. He was admitted because he was an American. He asked to be taken
+to Mr. Tang Shao-yi.
+
+"What do you most need?" this young American asked the rich Chinese
+merchant.
+
+"We most need food," was the reply.
+
+"All right, I'll get enough for you to-day!" said the young American.
+
+"That night," said Mr. Tang Shao-yi, "that American boy returned with
+five hundred hams which the Boxers had thrown away, in addition to a
+thousand sacks of flour which he had gotten from the English legation."
+
+"Wonderful!" I exclaimed.
+
+"And that boyish American was----"
+
+"Who?" I asked with tense interest, for the old man was smiling with a
+suggestive Oriental smile, as if he had a climax up his commodious
+sleeves.
+
+"That man was Herbert Hoover!"
+
+And from that interview henceforth and forever no human being need tell
+me that the Chinese have no sense of the dramatic.
+
+"That's why we love and trust America," said this great Chinese
+statesman. "It is because America has always been our friend in time of
+need!"
+
+I found this friendship for the United States true all over the Oriental
+world. It was to me a great miracle of national friendship. The peoples
+of the Orient trust us. They are not suspicious of our intentions in
+spite of what jingo papers say. We have won their hearts. We have
+claimed their friendship.
+
+The name "America," which stands in the Oriental mind for the United
+States, is a sacred passport and password. It is a magical word. It
+opens doors that are locked to all the rest of the world; it tears down
+barriers, century-old, that have been barricading certain places for
+ages past. That simple word opens hearts that would open with none
+other.
+
+The eyes of the brown men of the Far East open wide at that word, and a
+new light appears in them. This is particularly true in Korea, in China,
+in the Malacca Straits, and in the Philippines.
+
+It is enough to bring a flood of tears to the heart of an American,
+lonely for a sight of his own flag, homesick for his native shores, to
+see and feel and hear and know the pulse of this friendship for our
+country among millions of brown men.
+
+"It is because we are like you, we Chinese," said Tang Shao-yi. "It is
+because we are both Democrats at heart!"
+
+"It is because you have been our true friends!" said Dr. Sun Yat Sen.
+
+"It is because your ideals are our ideals; your dreams our dreams and
+your friends our friends," said Wu Ting-fang, one of China's greatest
+leaders, to me.
+
+"It is because so many of our young men have been trained in your
+American schools, and because so many of us feel that the United States
+is our second home. It is because you have sent so many good men and
+women to China to help us; to teach us; to live with us; to love us; to
+serve us! It is because your missionaries from America have shown the
+real heart of the United States to us!" said Mr. Walter Busch, a Chinese
+American student who is now editor of the Peking _Leader_.
+
+But whatever the cause, the glorious fact is enough to:
+
+    "Send a thrill of rapture through the framework of the heart
+    And warm the inner bein' till the tear drops want to start!"
+
+But perhaps the highest and holiest Flash-lights of Friendship that one
+finds in the Far East is that of the friendship formed by the American
+missionaries for the people among whom they are working, and the
+friendship that these people give in return. These are holy things.
+
+The average missionary comes home on his furlough, but before he is home
+three months he is homesick to go back to his people. So they come and
+go across the seas of the world through the years, weaving like a great
+Shuttle of Service the fabric of friendship for themselves and for the
+United States.
+
+This shuttle of service is being woven night and day across the Atlantic
+and across the Pacific by great ships bearing missionaries going and
+coming; furlough following furlough, after six years of service; term
+after term; leaving native land, children, memories; time after time
+until death ends that particular thread, crimson, gold, brown or white.
+The great Shuttle of Love weaves the fabric of friendship across the
+seas as the ships come and go, bearing outbound and homebound
+missionaries to foreign fields.
+
+I am thinking particularly of the Pacific as I write this sketch sitting
+in a room overlooking the great harbor of Yokohama where three Japanese
+warship lie anchored and two great Pacific liners, one on its way to San
+Francisco and another bound for Vancouver. They come and go, these great
+ships. A few days ago the _Empress of Asia_ made its twenty-eighth trip
+across and it soon will start on its twenty-eighth trip back to
+Vancouver again. Some of the ships out of San Francisco have made more
+than a hundred trips. So they weave the shuttle back and forward across
+this great sea. And never a ship sails this sea that it does not carry
+its passenger list of missionaries. Our list was more than half a
+hundred.
+
+As Mr. Forman, in a sympathetic and appreciative article that he has
+written for the _Ladies' Home Journal_, says, the common phrase on a
+Pacific liner is, "There are two hundred and fifty passengers and
+forty-five missionaries on board." Every Pacific passenger list
+immediately divides itself into two groups, the missionaries and the
+other passengers.
+
+Then Mr. Forman proceeds to slay those shallow, narrow-minded, often
+ignorant and uneducated tourists and business men who dare to speak of
+this traveling missionary with derision. Mr. Forman has no particular
+interest in missions and he has no particular interest in the Church,
+but he started out to investigate this derogatory phrase, "and
+forty-five missionaries."
+
+Mr. Forman starts his article with these striking paragraphs
+
+    "If ever you cross the Pacific you will find the passengers on
+    the steamer quietly and automatically dividing themselves into
+    two groups.
+
+    "'How many passengers have we on board?' you may lightly ask
+    your neighbor.
+
+    "And your neighbor, traveled man no doubt (his twelfth
+    crossing, he will mention), will smartly reply, with a suave,
+    man-of-the-world smile: 'A hundred and two passengers and
+    forty-five missionaries.'
+
+    "After that you will be initiated and you will be mentioning
+    with an easy grace to some one else that there are on board so
+    many passengers and so many missionaries. It becomes a part of
+    the jargon of Pacific crossing."
+
+But Mr. Forman sees working that Shuttle of Service of which I am
+speaking. He sees, as any thinking man sees, as Roosevelt saw, as
+Bryan saw, and as Taft saw, that the greatest single influence for
+good in the Orient is the missionary. Mr. Forman was incensed at
+this careless phrase on the Pacific liners, and he investigated the
+work of our missionaries when he was in the Orient, and he came to
+the decision that they are worth more to America, even from that
+selfish standpoint, than all the ambassadors that we have sent
+over, because they are, in their crossing and recrossing, weaving a
+Fabric of Friendship between the Orient and the Occident; between
+the nations of the East and those of the West; between the white
+peoples and the brown peoples; in spite of the diplomatic
+differences and yellow newspapers in the United States and Japan.
+
+Mr. Forman says about his conclusions:
+
+    "I concluded that any one of the large missions in those
+    Oriental countries accomplished, so far as concerns American
+    standing and prestige, more than all our diplomatic
+    representation there put together. I do not believe it to be an
+    exaggeration to say that for the Orient the missionaries are
+    perhaps the only useful form of what is called diplomatic
+    representation."
+
+And again in the same article he says:
+
+    "One good missionary in the right place, it seemed to me, can
+    accomplish more than quite a number of ambassadors."
+
+And again he wonderfully sums up that mission of love in a paragraph
+which I think ought to be passed on:
+
+    "But when a missionary establishes a clinic or a hospital,
+    healing sores and diseases that their own medicine men have
+    abandoned as hopeless; when he educates boys and girls that
+    otherwise would have remained in darkness; when, with a
+    whole-souled enthusiasm, he gives them counsel, aid and service
+    and he asks nothing in return then the stolid and passive
+    Chinese or Korean is genuinely impressed. Then America really
+    becomes in his mind the synonym for kindness and service, and
+    from mouth to mouth goes abroad the fame of the land that is
+    aiming to do him good, without any menacing background of
+    exploitation."
+
+I talked with one bright-faced, twinkling-eyed, red-blooded, big-framed
+missionary who was crossing with his family of a wife and four children.
+He had spent fifteen years in the Orient as a missionary, and then
+because of illness he had been compelled to go to America. There he had
+taken a church and had preached for five years. His health came back,
+and as he told me, "The lure of the East got me and I had to come back.
+I never was so happy in my life as I am on this trip and the whole
+family feels the same way. We are going back to _our people_!" And the
+way he pronounced those _italicised_ words made me know that he, too,
+was weaving a thread in the Fabric of Friendship.
+
+We met a woman who was traveling back to China with her three darling
+little tots. I made love to all three of them, and it wasn't long before
+I asked one where her Daddy was. I assumed, of course, that they had
+been home on a furlough and that Daddy was back there in China waiting
+anxiously for them to return to him. I pictured that meeting, for I have
+seen many such during war days, both on this side and in France.
+
+"My Daddy is dead," the child said simply with a quiver of her little
+lips.
+
+"All right, dear baby, we won't talk about it then," for I was afraid
+that those little trembling lips couldn't hold in much longer. But she
+wanted to tell me about it. I soon saw that. She liked to talk about her
+"dear dead Daddy."
+
+"He went to France," she said simply.
+
+"Ah, he was a soldier?" I questioned.
+
+"No, he was better than a soldier, my Mamma says. He did not go to kill;
+he went to help." And back of that sentiment and that statement I saw a
+world of struggle and ideals in a missionary home where the man felt
+called across the seas to be "in it" with his country and at last the
+refuge of the man who could go "not to kill but to help."
+
+"He went to work with the coolies and he got the influenza and died last
+winter. We won't have any Daddy any more," and her little blue eyes were
+misty with tears. And so were mine, more misty than I dared let her see.
+And they are misty now as I write about it. And yours will be misty if
+you read about it, as they should be. That is something fine in you
+being called out.
+
+Later I met the mother. She told me over again the story that little
+Doris had told me of the big Daddy who had felt the call to go to France
+in the Y.M.C.A. to help the poor "coolies," several hundred of whom
+were, by strange coincidence, going back to China on the same boat with
+us, and with that brave mother and those dear children. These "coolies"
+were going back alive, but he who went to serve them died. "Others he
+saved; Himself he could not save," echoed in my soul as that mother and
+I talked.
+
+"I am going back to the Chinese to spend the rest of my life finishing
+Will's work. It is better so. I shall be happier."
+
+"But the association there--everything--every turn you make--every place
+you go--will remind you of him," I protested.
+
+"It would be what Will would want most of all, that I go on with his
+work. I go gladly. It will be the best balm for my sorrow."
+
+And far above national friendships there loom these snow-white peaks of
+the sacrificial friendship the missionaries bear in their hearts for the
+people with whom they live, and serve, and die.
+
+
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:
+
+
+Inconsistencies in hyphenation of words preserved. (flash-lights,
+flashlights; foot-ball, football; star-lit, starlit; to-day, today;
+to-night, tonight)
+
+Inconsistencies in the spelling and transliteration of non-English words
+preserved. (Pyeng Yang, Pyengyang)
+
+Pg. 25, "bacon" changed to "beacon". (like beacon lights of hope)
+
+Pg. 26, inserted missing comma. (there to the north," I said)
+
+Pgs. 79, 101, 145, inserted opening double quote mark to start of direct
+speech at top of chapter.
+
+Pg. 153, "flashng" changed to "flashing" (like flashing piston rods of
+steel)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Flash-lights from the Seven Seas, by
+William L. Stidger
+
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