That he would tell a lie if it served his purpose, and would
"squeeze" up to the limits of extortion, if he could do it
unobserved, I have not the slightest doubt. He seems to have but
little heart, or any idea of any but vicious pleasures. He has no
religion of any kind; he has been too much with foreigners for
that. His frankness is something startling. He has no idea of
reticence on any subject; but probably I learn more about things as
they really are from this very defect. In virtue in man or woman,
except in that of his former master, he has little, if any belief.
He thinks that Japan is right in availing herself of the
discoveries made by foreigners, that they have as much to learn
from her, and that she will outstrip them in the race, because she
takes all that is worth having, and rejects the incubus of
Christianity. Patriotism is, I think, his strongest feeling, and I
never met with such a boastful display of it, except in a Scotchman
or an American. He despises the uneducated, as he can read and
write both the syllabaries. For foreign rank or position he has
not an atom of reverence or value, but a great deal of both for
Japanese officialdom. He despises the intellects of women, but
flirts in a town-bred fashion with the simple tea-house girls.

He is anxious to speak the very best English, and to say that a
word is slangy or common interdicts its use. Sometimes, when the
weather is fine and things go smoothly, he is in an excellent and
communicative humour, and talks a good deal as we travel. A few
days ago I remarked, "What a beautiful day this is!" and soon
after, note-book in hand, he said, "You say 'a beautiful day.' Is
that better English than 'a devilish fine day,' which most
foreigners say?" I replied that it was "common," and "beautiful"
has been brought out frequently since. Again, "When you ask a