Letters from China and Japan

								

was strictly of the old historic type, but the most interesting one by
far was adapted from a classic--it centers to some extent about a
faithful horse, and the people are country farmers of several
centuries ago. The least interesting was a kind of problem
play--mostly philosophical discourse of the modern type--the right to
expression of self and an artistic career, aphorisms having no
dramatic appeal to even the Japanese audience. These people certainly
have an alert intelligence--almost as specialized as the Parisian, for
the audience was distinctly of the people, and no American audience
could be got to pay the close attention it gave to performances where
the merits, so far as they are not strictly artistic, in the technique
of acting which is very highly developed, depend upon catching the
play of moral emotions rather than upon anything very theatrical.
However, the classic drama which is based upon old stories and
traditions is more dramatic and melodramatic. The Japanese also say
the old theater has much better actors than the semi-Europeanized one
which is, I suppose, supported by the government. In the Imperial, the
orchestra seats are one dollar and a half; they are more--on the floor
at that--in the all-day theaters. Even in this one they have not
introduced applause, though there was slight handclapping once or
twice when the curtain went down. The Japanese have always had the
revolving theater as a means of scene shifting; it works like a
railway turntable apparently. Well, that ended the day yesterday.
Except we had invited two gentlemen to dinner, and when we told our
friends about it, they said, "Oh, just telephone them to come some
other day," which appears to be good Japanese etiquette, as it is also
to make calls at any time of the day, so we did. But unfortunately
they had to telephone to-day that they couldn't come to-night.
To-day has been comparatively calm; we have only had four Japanese
callers and two American ones. Of the two Japanese, one is a woman who
is the warden of the Girls' University, and the other is a teacher in
it, a young woman of a wealthy and aristocratic family who has become
too modern, I judge, for her family. I hope all you children will make
a bow to every Japanese you meet and ask him what you can do to be of
service to him. I shall have to spend the rest of my life trying to
make up for some of the kindnesses and courtesies which so abound
here.
I am afraid much of this is more interesting to me to write about than
it is to you to read, to say nothing of being more interesting to go
through than to read about. But you can then save the letter for us to
re-read when we get old and return from our Odysseying, and wish to
recover the memories of the days when people were so kind that they
created in us the illusion of being somebody, and gave us the combined
enjoyments of home and being in a strange and semi-magic country;
semi-magic for us. For the mass of the people, one can only wonder at