at Kabul Djemal Pasha, who, with Enver Pasha and the late Talaat Pasha, was one of Turkey's ruling triumvirate during the war, and had made him Minister of War in the Afghan Cabinet. Djemal Pasha had founded an Afghan Military College at Kabul and had imported forty Turkish officers from Angora to whip the Aighan regular army into shape. The Government of India's plan to extend its military railway from Jamrud up through the famous Khyber Pass to the Afghan frontier posts was interpreted at Kabul as a menace to Afghanistan's new independence, and its announcement was followed by the erection of hill redoubts overlooking the Afghan end of the Khyber and the training of Afghan mountain batteries to man them. This brought a new unrest into the tribes along the northwest frontier of India, the control of which has long been one of the Government of India's most difficult tasks.

Into this situation along the northwest frontier news of the recent Greek advances into Asia Minor has brought further unrest, and the farther the Greeks advanced (with British aid, Islam believes the more

turbulent the northwest frontier became. This has continued until today Afghanistan is talking openly of invading India, and Mr. Gandhi, the great Hindu leader of India's peaceful boycott of the British, has been compelled to use all his influence with his explosive Moslem minority to prevent the use of the Afghan army against the British in India and to keep the boycott in the ways of peace.

Meanwhile Afghanistan has been making use of its independence to put its own house in order, and the Amir on June 18 last proclaimed his first Code of Criminal Law, a move which constitutes Afghanistan's first step toward constitutional Government. ment. Should it continue to adjust itself to the march of Western civilization, Afghanistan should yet prove to be one of the strongest of the smaller States in Asia. Before the war it was locked in the vise-like grip of the Anglo-Russian Treaty of 1907, but today its opportunity to work out its own destinies has come. And for the next few years the history of the great tangled area between the Bosporus and Bengal Bay will pivot largely upon the uses that Afghanistan makes of this new opportunity.

THE

Persian Minister to the United States, Sadigh es Saltaneh, shortly before his recent transfer from Washington to Madrid, delivered before the American Manufacturers' Association an address in which he outlined the trade policy and aims of the new Persian Government. The principal exports of Persia, he explained, are carpets, shawls and other products of cotton, wool and silk; in return she desires various American manufactures, especially cottons, hardware, machinery and other things of iron and steel. 'Persia," he continued, "has an area three times larger than France, yet most of the land remains

untilled. Our extensive forests in the north and west are scarcely touched. Our mines are still virgin. Our vast water power, one of the richest sources of energy, has only begun to be developed. What we need is the assistance of capital, and we will gladly welcome the enterprise of business men and the help of competent financiers.

* **

*We have always been in favor of the open door, and are keenly desirous of improving and establishing direct commercial relations-unalloyed by political ambitions-with all the nations of the world, and especially with wealthy, energetic and capable America."

N Japan the rule of doing things

IN

the opposite way to ours holds in suicide as in all things else. The Occidental punishes an enemy by stabbing him to death. A Japanese stabs himself, often killing himself at his enemy's gate for revenge. He kills himself as a protest against an injury he has suffered. He kills himself to emphasize some utterance. He kills himself to reform his superior. He kills himself to apologize for some mistake. Sometimes, in the Occident, men threaten the life of an employer in order to secure their demands. In the topsy-turvy East they threaten to take their own lives in order to bring things around their way. In our land jealous husbands or wives have been known to kill an offender. In Japan the lovers take their own lives that they may be united in the future existence. This form of double suicide is called "shinju" (love suicide).

In the Island Empire across the Pacific everything is done according to ancient rules-rules which even would-be suicides may not ignore. If a man has insulted another or caused grave injury through some stupid blunder, suicide, according to the ancient customs, is the only proper course for him; and he would "queer himself," "lose face," as we say over there, were he to neglect its observance. On the other hand, if one

wishes to make amends for some carelessness or wrong deed, one may claim the privilege of suicide.

"Hara-kiri" as a method of suicide has been in vogue since antiquity. Although the word hara-kiri may have a sound of mysterious dignity in Western ears, the meaning is very prosaic when translated into English. The literal meaning is "belly cutting." The Japanese have a fashion of using Chinese words to express rude or unpleasant things, in the same way that we use Latin and French words, so they usually refer to hara-kiri by the high-sounding Chinese name, "seppuku," as we use the word abdomen instead of the plain Anglo-Saxon word. The act consists in drawing a sharp dirk across the abdomen. In the days when hara-kiri enjoyed an official status, the head was severed immediately afterward by a friend, or, in case of political offenders, by an official.

ORIGIN OF "HARA-KIRI "

daimyo. First one, then the other was successful. The victor always tried to insure the safety of his reign by beheading those who had fought against him, and in order to make the death of these political rivals less distasteful, the custom of hara-kiri was called into use.

Solemn ceremonies were devised to give a show of dignity to the condemned warriors, or Samurai, as they were called. The rules governing hara-kiri were both elaborate and exact, everything being done according to rigid form. Nothing new was added; nothing old was omitted. The place for the performance was prepared in the same strict way. Those of the highest rank were permitted to perform hara-kiri in the house; all others must use the garden. But whether the ceremony took place in the house or in the garden, it was governed by the same fixed rules. Each implement was used according to the set regulations; every step taken was according to the proper rules. The man to sever the head, the one to hand the sword to the principal, each actor in the scene was there in the proper place, according to the approved rules of harakiri.

A Japanese learns from childhood up to respect hara-kiri. He learns it at school in his history and ethics lessons. He learns it at home from his parents. He learns it on the streets from wandering story tellers. He learns it from the praise of harakiri which he reads in the newspapers and books. He learns it in the temples where he goes to worship Japanese heroes, some of whom have been deified because they avenged their lords through hara-kiri. Suicide by this method is looked upon as an honorable way to avenge one's self, to denounce an enemy, to apologize for a wrong done, or to escape difficulties in general. It is merely one way of starting out upon the long journey to the next existence. A Japanese looks upon this life as one form of his many existences; the next may be better or

worse than this one. If he deserves it. he may be reborn in a much happier sphere; or if unworthy in this life, his spirit may have an unfortunate habitation in the next.

In Japan there are few lives of ease and perfect happiness. Living means struggle and sacrifice for the big majority of the common people, especially for the women, whom we have come to consider the happiest people on earth because they smile under every circumstance. Since living in Japan I have learned that a smile often covers the saddest heart. The doctrine of keeping one's troubles in the background is worthy of emulation, but when carried to the extreme, as in Japan, it causes others to say as we do of the Japanese, "They are never unhappy."

In the thickly populated little kingdom of Nippon a human life is not considered of such importance that one less is taken as sufficient cause for extensive comment in the newspapers or anywhere else. And since 1869, when a motion was introduced into the Japanese Diet to abolish hara-kiri, it has held its place against the new Western fashions creeping into the Japanese life. For at that time only three voted for the motion; two hundred voted against it and six did not vote; thus was it settled that hara-kiri was a Japanese institution reflecting great glory upon the country; that it was a custom both desirable and indispensable; that it was one of the distinctly Japanese customs not to be uprooted. So it has remained. While it does not have the same official place that it had in the days of feudalism, still it exists as a voluntary means of redress, of sacrifice, or of escape from the worries of the world.

TYPICAL INSTANCES

I remember an occasion a few years ago when a stationmaster of the Government railway committed harakiri because the Emperor's special train was delayed a few minutes by

a misunderstanding on the part of an official. There had been no accident. There had been no injury-except to the stationmaster's pride. However, the stationmaster thought the only suitable apology he could make for the slight delay to the imperial train would be to perform hara-kiri; so he did. And as far as I could discover there was not a Japanese who disagreed with that view.

Last January a Japanese sentry while on police duty in Vladivostok shot Lieutenant Warren Langdon of the United States cruiser Albany. The sentry was absolved from blame, as it was discovered that his superior officer had not been explicit in giving directions. It was reported that the superior officer had committed suicide which would in truth have been according to Japanese etiquette. But, so far as I know, that rumor has not been confirmed. The latest news is that the sentry has taken upon his own sword the duty of making apology in the usual way. Knightly sentiments are not confined to the Samurai, but often dwell in the hearts of the lowliest. To those who know Japan, it would seem quite in keeping for one of the humblest subjects in the empire of the Sun Goddess to make atonement by the honored custom of hara-kiri.

The case of General Count Nogi and Countess Nogi, who committed hara-kiri at the time of the death of the Emperor, Meiji, in 1912, attracted world-wide attention at that time. The General could not bear to see his Emperor go to the next life with no attendant; so he made preparations and, quietly, accompanied by his faithful wife, went to his Emperor's side. The act was hailed as most beautiful and fitting. Through the breadth of the land the memory of the faithful couple is held in a reverence but little short of worship. After the passing of a few generations General Nogi's name will doubtless be numbered among the thousands of deities worshipped in Japan.

PRECEDENT AND LEGEND

The national story of the fortyseven Ronin still exercises a powerful influence upon the people of Japan. In 1701 Asano, Lord of Ako, having been insulted by a nobleman named Kira, quarreled with him in the palace court. As a private quarrel inside the precincts of the palace was a crime punishable by death, Asano was ordered to perform harakiri. His family was disgraced and his clan ordered to scatter. His retainers, forty-seven in number, pledged themselves to live for the sole aim of avenging their master. They waited vigilantly two years for the completion of their plans. When all was ready they entered Kira's mansion and crdered him to perform hara-kiri. Coward that he was, he refused to take the sword, so they cut his head off. They carried his head in a solemn procession across Tokio to the grave of Asano. Placing the head before the tomb of their master, they declared their vow fulfilled. That evening the forty-seven committed hara-kiri; they were buried by the side of Asano.

The plot of ground containing the graves of Asano and his forty-seven faithful retainers is a popular resort for pilgrims, who throng to the temple to worship the devoted heroes. Many times have I taken visitors to the tombs of the forty-seven Ronin on the edge of Tokio, but I have yet to see the time when the simple gravestones had no burning incense, or no pilgrims bowing a mute tribute to "faithfulness," the virtue most exalted in Japan. The deed of these forty-seven men is one of the most popular subjects for songs, stories and plays. A theatre is always full when the play is the story of the forty-seven Ronin.

In Japan one often sees a venerable old tree enclosed by a bamboo fence and having a straw rope tied around its gnarled trunk. Such trees are sacred and are worshipped for one

reason or another. The following story shows how the worship of a fine old tree in Southern Japan originated: One day long ago a man committed suicide by hanging himself from a sturdy limb of this tree. Soon after that another man did the same thing; then another and another, until that tree became a favorite place for committing suicide. Suicide then, as now, was nothing unusual, but there was an inquiry into the reason why that one tree was the instrument selected by so many. the sage old men of the village decided that evil spirits dwelt in the tree and lured men on to take their lives. Therefore, a meeting of all the men of the village was called to decide on some means of defense against the evil spirits.

The old men held the belief that offerings should be made to the tree spirits to placate their wrath and to gain their favor. The young men said the wiser plan would be to cut the tree down and burn it. At this suggestion the older men held up their hands in horror. "Such a course would bring calamity on the whole village," they gasped. The young men, less superstitious and less faithful to the gods, held firmly to their decision, and, perhaps because they were more numerous, carried the day.

Preparations were made to destroy the tree. But here a difficulty developed-no one could be found willing to cut the tree. Though the young men were brave enough to laugh at the evil spirits, yet when it came to taking an axe in hand and actually cutting the tree, each was loath to take upon himself the honor. Finally two of the most daring stepped out with axes and struck two resounding blows. O horror! no sooner had the axes touched the tree-so the legend goes-than blood gushed forth! The two daring young men dropped their axes and fled in terror. The whole assemblage dropped to their knees and besought the spirits to spare their lives. Ever afterward the vil

lagers were faithful in placing their offerings before the sacred tree.

FASHIONS IN SUICIDE

This story illustrates the fact that there are fashions in Japanese suicide as in everything else. The saying that "misery loves company" holds true. in Japan, even if the English proverb is unknown. When a Japanese has reached the state of despondency or some other emotion which urges suicide, he usually seeks a spot where others have taken the same step.

A few years ago the wheel of fashion in its turning rested upon the high portico of a temple in Kyoto, a temple dedicated to the goddess of mercy. This temple, called Kiyomizudera, is built upon high piles on the side of a hill, in a most beautiful setting. Cherry, maple, plum and evergreen trees almost hide it. From its portico one can see the valley below with its restless masses. The railing is very low, and it is quite easy just to step over-and know the ills of life no more.

But the wheel of fashion never remains long in one position, and in this case it shifted popularity from Kiyomizu-dera to the crater of the active volcano, Mt. Asama. You may be sure it takes grim determination to climb to the top of the long slope of the rumbling, smoking Asama Yama, and then to jump into its sulphurous, fiery depths. But a Japanese would not let a thing like that stand in his way once his mind is made up; so many a weary soul toiled up the ashcovered side of Mt. Asama with suicide as the only reward in view-until the considerate fashion wheel took another turn. This time it led to a more accessible place-a lake near Kobe. The authorities took a hand there; soon they had the lake drained and the would-be suicides had to seek another refuge.

This time they did not go far in their search; Suma, a beautiful suburb of Kobe, became the favorite place for this strange fad. The mag