entertainment of such a hope in the evident enlightenment pervading the councils of the Mikado. The following is the language of a Japanese writer, and it shows that the press reflects an intelligence which even that of America or Great Britain cannot afford to contemn: “The Americans and Europeans are enlightened people, and do not without cause call us semi-civilized. But what is the meaning of civilization? It surely is not limited to the possession of fine houses, fine dresses, and to sumptuous living. It is not confined to a flourishing state of its manufactures or machinery. It means an advance in knowledge and politics, a reverence for religion, the proper estimation of good character, and the observance of good customs.” The press which can convey such truths as these is not likely to neglect the national evidences of civilization furnished by the arts and manufactures. If it will not allow its readers to look for the signs of civilization upon the outside of foreign institutions, it is as little likely to overlook the best elements at home, whether in religious reverence, good customs, or in art. To begin with the rise of the art in Japan, although legend would carry us back to the era of Oanamuchi-no-mikoto, and the inventor Oosei-tsumi, long before history begins, we may content ourselves with a less hoary antiquity. It is said that in the sixth century before Christ certain kinds of pottery were ordered by the Emperor Jinmu for religious purposes. The next five hundred years give no additional knowledge, but in B.C. 29 we learn that in the province of Id-soumi there lived a certain worker in stone and pottery called Nomino-Soukoune. The custom at that time was for slaves to be buried with their dead masters, presumably that the latter might have some one to wait upon them in the next world. When Nomino-Soukoune heard of the death of the Empress, he quickly made some images of stone or earthen-ware, and, taking them to the Emperor, induced him to bury them with the Empress as substitutes for her favorite attendants. The cruel rite was thereafter abolished, and the potter and sculptor, as a reward and distinction, was allowed to take for his surname Haji, the artist in clay. Two years later, B.C. 27, a Corean prince, a son of the King of Sin-sa, landed in “The Land of Great Peace,” and settled in the province of Omi, where his followers founded a potters’ guild. It is said that both Haji and the visitors from Corea made porcelain. But this is extremely improbable, as it was only about the same period that porcelain was invented in China, and all the evidence goes to show that the knowledge of making a translucent ware passed from China to Japan. It is, therefore, not at all likely that a secret jealously guarded by the Chinese should at once have passed to a neighboring country.