zones are Beyond blue horizons far at the world's end, strange, fascinating lands beckon us, bid us revel in their exotic splendours. Join with us as we head for ports of call. Far away over the western ocean, 5,000 miles down the path of the setting sun, lies a long narrow chain of islands, smiling and green like an emerald diadem for the coast of Asia. We are about to visit the island empire whose legendary beauty surpasses imagination, a lotus land of ancient shrines and temples, the fairy realm of cherry blossoms, Japan. We land at Yokohama, Japan's great modern seaport. My dear, will you look at that darling baby, just like a little doll. I'll say east meets west here. Say hello to that fellow wearing a derby hat and a kimono. Oh please, you mind speaking English with me? Teach our saying in school, practice making perfect speaking. We are bewildered by our first glimpse of Japan, this land of miracles. Everywhere about us is an astonishing mixture of last minute western modernity and age old oriental customs, ancient temples alongside concrete office buildings. Smart Japanese women and talliers from the Rue de la Paix hurry toward the modern department stores with their sisters in gay kimonos, high glistening poiffures and obies, their tiny white stocking feet shuffling along in clattering wooden gators. Japan is governed by an enlightened and constitutional monarchy with a house of peers and a house of representatives. The emperor, known as the Macado, is the direct descendant of the dynasty which has ruled Japan for 2700 years. For many centuries the Macado ruled an undisputed absolute sovereignty. But during the 12th century AD, great powerful families arose and their quarrels and intrigues began to threaten the solidarity of the empire itself. There is grave concern in the palace at Kyoto as the Macado discusses the rising crisis with his lords. There is trouble and dissension everywhere, Imperial Highness. I know it only too well. There has been civil war since I was a boy and for as long as my father before me could remember. I know. The great families have become too rich, too powerful. Their jealousies keep them constantly quarreling. Their allegiance to me has become weak and I cannot cope with them any longer. May I speak, Imperial Highness? Speak, Arimoto. Imperial Highness, it is true that the great families have become too powerful and that their jealous quarrels may prove fatal to the empire. Still there is a way to prevent it. And what is that, your arimoto? If your Imperial Highness will deign to signal out one of the great families above all others and bestow upon its head your gracious protection, then the others can be brought to reason. That will be difficult and very dangerous. What family would undertake the risk of being exterminated? Mine, Imperial Highness. If you will give me the necessary power, I pledge myself to bring all Japan to order. In what help from me would you need to do this? Your protection and goodwill. And then I must have control of the civil power of the empire to punish by law. And also the military power to compel by force of arms. Very well then, your arimoto. Your request is granted. You shall henceforth be responsible to no one but me. You have power of life and death over my subjects. You shall have the title of Shogun of Japan. Vigorous warlike your arimoto made good his promise to the Makato. Established a stern militaristic regime, bringing internal cohesion again to Japan. The Makato continued as descendant of the sun goddess to be titular head of the empire. But the Shoguns with whom the office soon became hereditary, actually ruled the country through a system of barons called daimyos. Each of whom had his following of gentlemen warriors, the two sorted samurai. No story is more eloquent of the Japanese ideal of knightly honor which developed during these feudal times than the story of the 47 Ronin. That great national heroic tale of Japan. The scene is a gallery opening on the magnificent gardens of the Shoguns palace at Yedo in the last years of the 17th century. Asano Takumi, Baron of Akko in attendance upon the Shogun is approached by one of the courtiers. Good morning, dear son. Have you a moment to spare? Perhaps, but I'm in a hurry. I'm on my way to see the Shogun. They tell me there is an envoy coming from the Makato. Precisely, and that's what I wanted to speak to you about, Kira. Why, what do you know about it? Why, I do know a little about it. You see, I've been informed that although I am so unworthy, the Shogun has chosen me to receive this envoy. So I wanted to ask. You receive the envoy? I have not sought this honor, I assure you. No? I would be the last to do so. But you see... Yes, I see. I suppose now you want me to tell you the proper etiquette in receiving the envoy, eh? Well, if you don't know, I shall tell you. The idea. What are we coming to when such officers are bestowed upon rustic barons who would be more at home splattering about in their rice paddies than under the same roof with the Shogun? People with a knowledge of the world should be selected for such honors. Farmers should stay in their stables with their water buffaloes. Your words are ill-tempered, Kira. I'm only asking your courtesy. Courtesy? What do you know about courtesy, you plow? Enough of that, Kira. Not another word. You had best not insult me further. I am a warrior and know little of etiquette, it's true. But I do know this... Gentlemen, calm yourselves. I do know this, Kira. You insult me thus only because you know very well that a private brawl in the Shogun's palace would disgrace me. Ah, so you do know etiquette when it will help save your face, eh? Come, coward, I must be going. Just the scrap of my gator. Osano, drop your sword. Think. This is too much. Yes, count Roy... Osano, what have you done in the Shogun's palace? I know. But he taunted me beyond my strength. I would have killed him had he not run away. But now I'm disgraced. I've shed blood in a private quarrel in the palace. Honor requires that you do away with yourself. Yes. I am ready to take the consequences. I have been guilty of weakness and discourtesy. You will stay with me until the end, Tommy. You are my friend. I am greatly honored. Very well. Let us make ready. Here is my long sword. Stand over me as I kneel. Lift my hand falters as I draw the short sword across my stomach. You know what to do. Rely on me, noble Osano. And farewell. I go to join my ancestors. And I, Tommy, was present and saw this quarrel as I had described it to you, O followers of Osano. Kira is responsible for your lord's disgrace. Hear me, comrades. We are now 47 Ronin, 47 knights without a leader. I, Oishi, and all of you have followed the noble Osano into many a battle. He was our brave, glorious, and beloved chieftain. Now through the fault of this cowardly Kira, his valor has been extinguished. I propose that we devote our lives to avenging him. And then when our work is done, we will pay the price and follow him into the land of shadows. Therefore, if you will bestow upon my unworthy self the task of organizing our revenge, I shall live but to execute it. Very well. Then listen to me. Kira is cowardly but cunning. He is suspicious. We must be very careful. We will have to wait until he fancies himself secure. We must scatter, disappear. We must slowly gain the confidence of Kira's followers to gain access to him. I, Oishi Kura Nosugi, will leave my wife and my family. I will disguise myself and wait until Kira is off his guard. You must do the same. Then we will strike. Do you promise, O 46 Ronin, O masterless men? At last. Come. Here is Kira's house. Walk softly, for your steps may be heard in spite of the snow. Our brothers inside the gate are waiting. Open in memory of Osano of Akko. Come, brothers. I will take you to Kira. Help! Help! What did you do? Help! No use, Kira. Your men have been overpowered. We have waited long for this moment. What? What do you want here? You know what we want. We are the 47 Ronin, the men without a leader. We have come to avenge the death of Osano, Baron of Akko. Make ready. But, Dad, you can't harm me. Silence, Kira. You are a nobleman and your rank entitles you to some consideration. Therefore, you may take your own sword and exercise your own right to commit harakiri. Oh, no. No, no, no. The cowards, stop him. He's trying to run away again. Help! Oh, brothers. He does not know how to die. Strike him down. We have avenged our master, Osano. Thus perished Kira. The band of the Ronin cut off his head and carried it in solemn procession to the snow-covered streets of Kyoto. The news of their deed preceded them, but their progress was unchecked. Respectfully, the people watched them pass. They were fulfilling the stern code of their honor, though each one knew his life was to be forfeited. They placed the head of Kira on Osano's tomb, then burned incense and solemnly gave themselves up to the Supreme Court of Yeddo. Each one was condemned to do away with himself, and each satisfied the law by committing harakiri. Today, when we visit the tomb of Osano and his followers near Tokyo, we are but a few of the many thousands who yearly visit the last resting place of these heroes of feudal Japan, the 47 Ronin. The chivalrous spirit of the old feudal system still dominates the Japanese. The feudal system itself might still obtain in Japan had it not been for the adroit tactful diplomacy of an American naval officer, Commodore Matthew C. Perry. For in the 17th century, the Japanese, dissatisfied with their first contact with the races of Europe, closed the frontiers of their empire to the Occidentals. And for over 200 years, the frontiers remained closed by a rigid policy of voluntary isolation. The laws were enacted to punish belief in Christianity, forbidding foreign travel, the study of foreign languages, or the introduction of foreign customs. But Japan's isolation was doomed when Commodore Perry steamed in the Yokohama Harbor in 1854. Swing up again, lower away. Reboot at the gangway Commodore. Very well, come Mr. Portman. Our commissioner of Japan is waiting for us ashore. Yes Commodore Perry. Shove off Coxon. Aye aye sir. We're on our way together. This is an anxious moment Mr. Portman. I confess I feel a bit nervous. The negotiations may prove momentous Commodore. Yes indeed. Perhaps none of us realize how important they are. The discovery of gold in California and the commercial development of our west coast make it imperative for us to open new markets in the Pacific. Steam navigation has made great progress in the last few years. Our navy will need calling stations in the Orient. Fortunately the Japanese are beginning to realize that the world is moving on. Something can be done I am certain. I sincerely hope so. Well here we are. I must say they look pleasant enough. See how they smile. Very reassuring. He's a good old man I'm sure. What picturesque costume. This is indeed a cordial welcome. And now would you do us the honor of looking at the unworthy presents we dare hope you will have the indulgence to accept. Your gold and silver brocade. Your embroidered socks from Kyoto. And your rare lacquer from Izikawa. And now our ancient ceremonial garments. Please here are paintings by Fokusai and Hiroshige. And here is rice from Emperor's own star house. It is all magnificent. I am deeply touched and most grateful. You have shown me the grace and beauty of your marvelous geisha dancing girls and the strength and skill of your powerful wrestlers. And now if you please I would like to show you the gifts the West brings to the East. First, this miniature railway. This machine is called the locomotive. It functions by steam, the same power that moves our ships that you see in the harbor. It moves over these iron rails and pulls behind it these coaches, each one of which in a full size train will carry a hundred people. And it moves by itself. Yes indeed. With no horses, no men for pushing it. You shall see. The person starts the train. Aye sir. Oh that is miraculous invention. Japan needs trains. It is wonderful indeed. But here is something perhaps more wonderful still. It's called a telegraph. There is the key and this is the apparatus. From it leads a wire. The wire has been strung into another room. When this man works the little key, a message is sent over the wire and the operator in the other room can receive it. Now tell me, what shall we send to the other room over this wire? Oh please, send bonsai. Very well. Here send bonsai. Now let us go into the other room. We will find the word bonsai written on the invisible man's pad. Show us your pad Henderson. There. You see? There is the word bonsai. Oh this is even more wonderful than train I thinking. Please be good enough to accept both the train and the telegraph. Oh you are most kind. Your gifts we accept gladly. We are happy that after all these years we have at last learned of these marvelous inventions. Japan will make good use of them. I am sure you will and I am very happy to have the honor of introducing them to your wonderful country. Then came the long negotiations concerning the treaty. With infinite tact and patience, the American envoy finally succeeded in signing a mutually satisfactory agreement, which opened after two centuries of complete isolation three ports, Hagodate, Simoda and Napa, to American vessels. With the first barrier thus broken thanks to Commodore Perry, it was not long before the nations of Europe obtained trading privileges in other Japanese ports and Japan's amazing era of modern development began. Two hours from busy Tokyo, encircled by green hills and dotted with curving temple roofs, among the somber foliage of the Japanese pine lies Kamakura, the shrine of one of the world's most famous statues, the great bronze Buddha. Tall trees hide the statue from sight as we approach. We hold our breath with expectation and suddenly the colossal figure appears before us. Oh George, give me your hand. Are you frightened dear? No, not frightened, but why it's overwhelming. You know it's as high as a five story building and made entirely of bronze plates, but they fitted so closely together you can't see the joints. But come on, let's get closer. What a marvelous face George. Who could be afraid of such a kindly God? See those half closed eyes, why they're as gentle as a child. It seems to be the soul of the East. Perhaps that statue explains the calm joyousness of the Japanese as they worship. There seems to be no fear, no sorrow, only gladness. But George, the statue grows bigger and bigger. I have never seen anything like it. And the curls on the head, see them? Yes. Just as they represent snails. Because Buddha was so kind to all the animals that as he sat in meditation, snails crawled up to shield his head from the sun. Oh look, there's a door in the lotus blossom he's sitting on. You want to go in? We can climb up inside as high as the shoulders. There are little windows there. Oh no George, if you don't mind, let's stay here on the ground. Let's contemplate Buddha from a distance. Somehow I've never felt so peaceful, so happy. I begin to feel that I understand the Japanese a little better now. Beauty will be the word most often on our lips during our stay in Japan. And our hearts will open under its spell like the cherry blossoms, which every spring draw millions of these sensitive people to contemplate them in silent rapture. For in no other place on the globe is the cult of the beautiful so highly developed. Come, let's climb aboard a rickshaw for a visit to a tea house nestling in a garden filled with wisteria bloom and opening onto a pool filled with lotus blossoms, cool and delightful with its arched bridges and stone lanterns. Hovering like a frozen cloud above this fairyland scene is eternal holy Mount Fujiyama. We replace our shoes with felt slippers so as not to soil the spotless rice straw matting and squat on flat cushions before low lacquered tables. Smiling maids, blue-black hair piled high upon their slender necks, gay kimonas bound with gorgeous sashes, dainty feet encased in spotless white bring a great number of tiny bowls and set them before us with a low bow. At the same time, three dainty geishas take possession of the veranda. One seats herself and begins to play the long neck three-string samison. Two others begin the slow graceful movements of an ancient Japanese dance. Each attitude is a faultless picture. Each gesture a carefully studied symbol. The gold and black bands flutter in their tiny hands. Their baby faces white with rice powder are unspeakably grave. The studied poses bring us the classic poetry of centuries. We divide our attention between the dancers and the contents of the tiny dishes before us. What might this one contain? A raw fish and rice, honorable visitor. And this? Rice and bacon, a pickle radish, honorable visitor. And this? A baby octopus. And this? A broiled eel. And this? This? Fried seaweed. This cuisine requires a little practice to appreciate. In the meantime, we will concentrate on the rice, the straw-colored tea, the warm sake and the sweet meats. Twilight is falling. We leave our rickshaws at the tea house and continue up the hill through the trees. Our feet follow the stone steps which for centuries have led lovers of beauty to the high ridge behind Nagasaki. We pause near a deserted temple and look down at the dream world below us. The twilight deepens. Fireflies begin to glimmer here and there. The horizon is dimmed by successive layers of indigo mist. Above the mist, stars appear. Then a ship comes steaming slowly into the harbor. The magic beauty of Japan holds us enthralled. Near us in the darkness, we seem to feel the presence of another watcher, the dainty Madame Butterfly, little Chocho-san. Over the faint whisper of the pine needles comes her voice. Every day I have watched, all day long, and into the dark night. Every day since the big white ship sailed away with my handsome officer. It was so long ago. Perhaps he is coming back now. Mrs. Saylor is owing him a shore. Perhaps even now he is hurrying up the hill to me. Listen. Listen. Are those his footsteps? Ah, no. It is only a deer in the forest. No. He is not coming. He will never come back. Never. And now we must leave. Leave the lonely shade of Madame Butterfly standing among the trees in her gay kimono. But we hope to return someday to this marvelous land of poetry and beauty. And in the meantime, Japan, we thank you for this charming interlude. May the march of progress spare your delightful manners and the picturesque customs which make you the visitor's paradise. May your hospitable people continue to smile their warm-hearted welcome. May our friendship with the land of the rising sun steadily deepen and grow stronger in mutual understanding and confidence. Farewell, Japan. Dai Nippon. Ayanara. What's happening to me? We invite you to join us again next week at this time as we journey to another of the world's fascinating ports of call.
