leaders of the riots have been severely punished, some of them receiving long terms of imprisonment. The authorities are ostensibly anxious to show, however, that this does not mean any attempt at suppression of popular opinion. For it is the unsatisfactory condition of labor that is really at the bottom of the social disaffection. It was for this reason, too, that the bureaucratic Terauchi Cabinet was turned out and an avowedly democratic Ministry installed. Though the new Cabinet has already proved that commoners and untitled politicians do not necessarily mean democratic régime, yet the public mind has been soothed somewhat. But the demonstrations in favor of an extended franchise show that the masses are convinced that no really democratic government can be expected in Japan until the manhood of the nation is entitled to the vote.

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That there is ample reason for extension of the suffrage is clear from the fact that out of a population of some 60,000,000 no more than 1,600,000 men are entitled to vote. At first it was suggested that the franchise be extended to all paying a tax of three yen or more annually, but this increased the number of votes only to 4,000,000. Now the demand is for universal franchise. At the mass meetings held in connection with the campaign, prominent men like Mr. Yukio Ozaki made speeches, contending that the late Emperor declared that the administration of the State would in future be conducted in accord with public opinion, and the guiding principle of the nation should be equality of all classes. In neither politics nor law have these fundamental principles been enforced in Japan. The country is managed by politicians who owe their power to birth rather than to the votes of the people, while others are in

power by virtue of the amount of taxes they are able to pay. Thus wealth and birth take precedence of science and scholarship. The masses are so discontented that their views will find vent in violence unless the rights of the people be recognized. While Japanese delegates at the European Peace Conference are crying out for equality of races and nations, inequality of classes is tolerated, if not imposed, on the Japanese at home. The results of such methods of administration are clearly seen in the discomfiture that has overtaken Germany and Austria and Russia. At the present juncture, when democracy is claiming its own everywhere, the stability of the foundations of the State in Japan demands that the franchise be extended to the manhood of the nation. After listening to sentiments of this kind at various meetings the students and other crowds marched to the front gate of the Imperial Palace and cheered for the Imperial House. But, most remarkable of all, the University students have presented a petition to His Majesty asking directly that the franchise be extended, a move unprecedented in Japanese history. A Bill is now in preparation mbodying the views of the franchise propagandists for presentation to the Imperial Diet, but whether it will pass is uncertain.

It is worthy of notice that even women have joined the movement for extension of the franchise in Japan, claiming votes for women. The leader in the female demonstrations has been Mrs. Akiko Yosan, one of the most distinguished of Japan's women writers, whose writings appear in all the leading national periodicals. Mrs. Yosan contends that if women be excluded in the extension of the franchise Japan will still be a back number compared with western countries.

A further indication of quickening democracy in Japan is the change taking place in the attitude of the authorities toward labor unions Hitherto the organization of such unions has not been permitted, though the police are now asserting that there has never been any law against peaceful organization of labor. But labor unions claim the right to resort to strikes in case justice is denied them, and as Japanese laws prohibit such demonstrations, organization was regarded as futile. Nevertheless, a feature of labor in Japan during the past few years has been the increasing number of strikes. As these have usually represented local disaffection, in the absence of labor unions, they have been rigorously dealt with, and done little to promote the interests of labor. But the inability to find a voice for its wrongs has forced Japanese labor into riotous strikes, terrorizing the communities affected. The fact that Japanese labor has been permitted to send a representative to the Peace Conference at Versailles may be taken as significant of the new freedom in the direction of democracy.

The people of Japan are undoubtedly very anxious to make their voice heard at the Peace Conference, as an occasion where all the world is assembled to listen. Though the government has not embodied this policy in its plans, a sufficient number of unofficial delegates have been sent to see that the opinion of the nation is voiced. The speech which Baron Makino made at the Conference in reference to racial discrimination may be regarded as an echo of the clamor at home. Demonstrations have been held in Tokyo demanding that the Peace Conference and the League of Nations abolish racial discrimination in all international relations. The resolutions passed have been telegraphed to the Peace

Conference. As Japan is given a place of equality with the five greater nations of the Peace Conference, it is obvious that she already enjoys the equality of which many of the demonstrators are solicitous; but the real ground of the agitation, of course, is for free immigration to America and the British Dominions overseas. It is repeatedly asserted in the vernacular press and by political and other agitators in Japan that in their immigration laws the Americans and the British Colonies have enforced racial discrimination against the Japanese. There is no mention of the fact that these laws do not make reference to any nation, simply excluding Oriental races as living on a lower economic plane with which domestic labor cannot compete. The talk in Japan goes to show that the majority of the angry populace believes that the immigration laws are passed specially and specifically against the Japanese. Whether Nature or fate will work in Japan's favor in this connection is an interesting problem. Obviously the Japanese can never make successful northern colonists, as it will take them centuries to become inured to, and to know how to deal with, the northern winter. Bred of southern races the sun is in their blood, and they patiently await the passing of winter in a state of hibernation where they find themselves unfortunately far north. The Japanese yearn for a semi-tropical clime, like California or North Australia and the islands of the Pacific. Consequently, if fate drove them northward their progress might indefinitely be stayed, as witness the effect on the yellow races of Russia and North America. But official policy. pays little attention to science or anthropology; it works in the direction of least resistance, and is convinced that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

The Athenæum

Sir Henry Newbolt.

WE wake sometimes from dreams. uttering strange phrases, murmuring incredible things. At the moment of waking, for some ineffable instant of time, the words we speak, or perhaps think we speak, seem to us full of illumination. To everyone who speculates at all as to the heights and depths of the soul, there comes at very rare moments there are not, perhaps, more than half-a-dozen such experiences given to any man's lifetimethe sense of the true world which lies beyond this dark place of images and shadows; a world that is full of light and glory, a world where all our dim desires are interpreted and fulfilled. It is as if we stood among shadows before a black curtain, as if for one moment a fold were caught back and we saw that which we can never utter: but never deny.

In dreams and waking and in waking dreams most of us, I suppose, penetrate into this other world, the world beyond the black curtain. But we are not suffered to make any report of it; the secret, it seems, must be kept fast. And that is one of the reasons why I am usually inclined to disbelieve most stories of the communicating spirits of the dead. Their messages are, to my judgment, altogether too lucid, too comfortably and easily and clearly set forth. There is no obscurity in the interpretation of their sentences, no impression as of a great gulf of the spirit which has been traversed with

the utmost difficulty. And if we, still in the flesh, cannot utter to ourselves our own visions, it scarcely seems likely that those who have passed beyond the flaming ramparts of the world should be able to chatter to us so easily and coloquially of the regions of their dwelling.

The speech of that far land, if any speech there be, will, I think, be delivered rather in sensible images than in logical and grammatical utterance. And it is only the unspiritual who can discern nothing of the spirit in things audibly or visibly presented to our

senses.

Here is the true story of such a presentation.

On the eleventh of last November the armistice between the Allies and the German Empire was signed. This meant that the incredible had happened. A few months before all the world had been in terror of a power that seemed capable of fighting all the world. Now, in a moment, as if by enchantment, that power had ceased to exist. The armistice terms were, most justly and wisely, rigorous, and on November 21st it was appointed that practically the whole German Fleet should surrender to the British. I said that the whole event was incredible, and so true is this that the British Navy could scarcely believe that the surrender would be accomplished peacefully. Sailors are generous men to all, but more especially to other sailors. There is a brotherhood of the deep, which surpasses the bounds of nations, and our navy could not believe that the German sailors would give up their ships without fighting; even though the fight might be a hopeless one for them. Consequently, on the morning of November 21st, 1918, the British Navy awaited the enemy in a state of mind that is hard to describe. The

surrender of the German fleet, they all knew, had been demanded and granted; but at the last moment, our men thought, the unutterable disgrace must boil in the veins of those German sailors, and the guns of their great ships must speak their final word of fire before they sank beneath the water. Every preparation was made for the fight. The ships were cleared. The men were at 'action stations.' Naval discipline was at its strictest. Every man on board every ship knew his place to an inch, his duty to the most minute detail. The King's ships had made them ready for battle; it is hard for a landsman to realize the awful and inexorable import of such

an array.

The Fleet steamed to the appointed rendezvous, waited, and looked eastward. It was a misty morning with a gentle breeze.

One of the ships was the Royal Oak, chiefly manned by sailors of Devonshire. She was flying on that day a magnificent silk ensign, made for her by Devonshire ladies. On her bridge, sixty feet above the top deck, was a group of officers: Admiral Grant, Captain Maclachlan, of the Royal Oak, the Commander, and others. It was soon after 9 o'clock in the morning when the German fleet appeared, looming through the mist. Admiral Grant saw them and waited; he could scarcely believe, he says, that they would not instantly open fire.

Then the drum began to beat on the Royal Oak. The sound was unmistakable; it was that of a small drum being beaten 'in rolls.' At first, the officers on the bridge paid little attention, if any, to the sound; so intent were they on the approaching enemy. But when it became evident that the Germans were not to show fight, Admiral Grant turned to the Captain of the Royal Oak, and remarked on the beating of

the drum. The Captain said that he heard it, but could not understand it, since the ship was cleared for action, and every man on board was at his battle station. The Commander also heard, but could not understand, and sent messengers all over the ship to investigate. Twice the messengers were sent about the ship, about all the decks. They reported that every man was at his station. Yet the drum continued to beat. Then the Commander himself made a special tour of investigation through the Royal Oak. He, too, found that every man was at his station.

It must be noted, by the way, that if someone, playing a practical joke, had been beating a drum between decks, the sound would have been inaudible to the officers on the bridge. Secondly, when a ship is cleared for action, the members of the band have specially important duties in connection with fire control apparatus assigned to them. The band instruments are all stored away in the band room, right aft, and below decks.

All the while the British fleet was closing round the German fleet, coming to anchor in a square about it, so that the German ships were hemmed in. And all the while that this was being done, the noise of the drum was heard at intervals, beating in rolls. All who heard it are convinced that it was no sound of flapping stays or any such accident. The ear of the naval officer is attuned to all the noises of his ship in fair weather and in foul; it makes no mistakes. All who heard knew that they heard the rolling of a drum.

At about 2 o'clock in the afternoon the German fleet was enclosed and helpless, and the British ships dropped anchor, some fifteen miles off the Firth of Forth. The utter, irrevocable ruin and disgrace of the German Navy were consummated. And at that