In forty-five years Nagasaki has become the chief coaling port on the Pacific, and as safe for Europeans—perhaps safer—than many a seaport in Europe itself. Steamers do not remain long at Nagasaki, where they only touch to coal, but passengers have time to land for a few hours and visit the town. Happily, the inhabitants have retained their national costumes, but the men have unfortunately adopted our very ugly headgear, and flourish in every variety of bowler and yachting hat. In the shops one soon perceives the march of civilization, for they are full of articles imported from all parts of the world, as well as others imitated from European models, improved upon, in the artistic sense, by the natives. You can buy books by all the leading authors almost as cheaply as in Paris or London, as well as oil-lamps, gas-stoves, photographs representing recent Japanese battles with the Chinese, looking-glasses (which were absolutely unknown in Japan until quite recently), and little terrestrial globes, the sight of which latter reminded me of an anecdote related by a missionary when I was in China. At the beginning of the Chino-Japanese War, the Viceroy of a certain province asked the Reverend Father to show him where Japan was located, and he had the pleasure of pointing out to His Excellency, for the first time in his life, the exact place whence came the warriors with whom his Government was then at war. The Japanese are very proud of their victory over their colossal neighbour, and have placed some of the cannon which they took from her in the principal Shinto temples in the city. Twelve hours after leaving Nagasaki you pass into the great Inland Sea, or heart of Japan, to effect an entrance into which in 1863 required the combined efforts of the fleets of England, France, Holland, and the United States. Now every great steamer that trades in the Pacific is free to weigh anchor in this glorious harbour, which, however, is never open at night on account of the many dangers to navigation in the Strait of Shimonoseki, which, by the way, is only a mile wide. As we passed through it, I perceived quite close to the southern shore no less than six immense steamers, anchored off the port of Moji—rapidly becoming a rival to Nagasaki—up to which the trains bring coal from the mines situated some miles inland. On the summit of the long range of hills a number of huge cannon stationed at intervals testify that the coasts of Japan are by no means unguarded.