October 24.—The Fleet left to-day, and the following was put in the paper: “Gentlemen will not be allowed on the platform except in frock-coats and silk hats; ladies in corresponding dress.”
The passion of the Japanese for the silk hat is intense, fervid, one might almost say it has become a fetish. But we have hitherto been spared a corresponding dress!
Think of its parallel in England—no gentleman allowed into Euston Station without a silk hat.
After working at fossils all morning (as you can imagine, I didn’t go to the station) I went along to preside at a Debate at Baroness d’A——’s. This Debate was on marriage. I had asked a very cultured missionary lady, with silver hair, to take a literary debate. No, said she, she was not interested in that, but if she might propose that “The unmarried life is the happier, then she would take the Debate.” So we had quite an amusing Debate, fortunately rather superficial.
The people here are not in touch with all our modern types, and I did not need to speak against the ranting type, who rave against men and marriage and prove themselves deformed. No, there were no such “problem” people here, only young spinsters who didn’t dare to say they would like to be married, and wives who didn’t dare or wish to speak against marriage, and elderly spinsters who were clever enough to be amusing without touching a fundamental note. The ranting type seems mercifully to be confined to big communities; I suppose it is an inevitable result of city life, where some must sterilise, but it is a pity when they have the power to write books.
In the evening I had a few of the Japanese botanists to dinner, and they seemed pretty well amused, or were sufficiently polite to pretend to be so. Fortunately they are not accustomed to violent amusement, nor have they the jaded palate of the European city dweller, so they are less exacting, for which I am thankful, as it was the first dinner-party I have given.
October 25.—In the afternoon I went to tea with Professor F—— and met Professor R—— from Russia, and others. We taught Professor R—— to use chop-sticks, and we examined dwarf trees, of which Professor F—— has some beautiful specimens. In a room in which dwarf trees are displayed everything must be specially simple and dignified. If the tree is not in the tokonomo, for instance, the screen behind it must be white, pure white, not even flecked with gold-dust. And when one sees it arranged rightly, one realises the true rightness of it, and the beauty seems to stand out clearly, with the outline of the tree against the background of white. I love more and more the simple culture of the old style Japanese when in harmonious surroundings. Though they have quite lovely and valuable dwarf trees in Kew, they are lost in the greenhouse with all the other things; the rays and suggestions from the other plants around them intermingle and conflict, till they produce a grey haze of mist in which the spirit of beauty envelops herself and is invisible; but if you place but one of those trees in the right place, she steals out and is radiant before you.
October 28.—A long quiet day of work. While we were at lunch an envelope was brought to Professor F—— containing 75 sen, partly in copper coins. It was a present from the Emperor! When I had done laughing he explained to me the reason. It is soon the Emperor’s birthday, and therefore all Government officials are expected to go to the palace to pay their respects, when they would receive a cup of saké and some light food. But to go one must have a grand gold-laced uniform, and many of the younger men don’t have it, also if every one went there would be an impossible crush, so that only the seniors go. The juniors now dispense with the formal letter stating that they are ill, but continue to receive the price of a cup of saké from the Emperor! Though the sum may seem ridiculous, it is an interesting survival, and as there are about ten thousand officials in the country, it is no joke for the Emperor!