imEgggjgigBgijjjm'igaggg^

L.ec 890HL

YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

IN MEMORY OF SAMUEL AMOS YORK
YALE 1863
FROM THE FUND ESTABLISHED IN 1924
BY HIS SON SAMUEL ALBERT YORK
YALE 1890

GLIMPSES

OF

UNFAMILIAR JAPAN
BY
LAFCADIO HEARN

IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. n.

BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

COPYRIGHT, 1894, BY LAFCADIO HEARN
COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY SETSU KOIZUMI
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED INCLUDING THE RIGHT TO REPRODUCE
THIS BOOK OR FARTS THEREOF IN ANY FORM

Eeo

CAMBRIDGE '. MASSACHUSETTS
PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

CONTENTS.

VOL. n,
PASS
XVI. In a Japanese Garden  343
XVU. The Househou) Shrine  385
XVni. Op Women's Haib  417
XIX. From the Diabt or an English Teacher . 430
XX. Two Strange Festivals  491
XXI. By the Japanese Sea  504
XXII. Op a Dancing-Gibl  525
XXIII. From Hoki to Oki  558
XXIV. Or Souls  626
XXV. Of Ghosts and Gobuns  637
XXVT. The Japanese Smilb  656
XXVn. SatonaraI  684
Index ........ . .395

GLIMPSES OP UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
XVI
IN A JAPANESE GAKDEN.

My little two-story house by the Ohashigawa,
although dainty as a bird-cage, proved much too
small for comfort at the approach of the hot season,
— the rooms being scarcely higher than steamship
cabins, and so narrow that an ordinary mosquito-net
could not be suspended in them. I was sorry to lose
the beautiful lake view, but I found it necessary to
remove to the northern quarter of the city, into a
very quiet street behind the mouldering castle. My
new home is a katchiii-yashiki, the ancient residence
of some samurai of high rank. It is shut off from
the street, or rather roadway, skirting the castle moat
by a long, high wall coped with tiles. One ascends
to the gateway, which is almost as large as that of a
temple court, by a low broad flight of stone steps;
and projecting from the wall, to the right of the gate,
is a lookout window, heavily barred, like a big wooden
cage. Thence, in feudal days, armed retainers kept
keen watch on all who passed by, — invisible watch,
for the bars are set so closely that a face behind them
cannot be seen from the roadway. Inside the gate
the approach to the dwelling is also walled in on both
sides, so that the visitor, unless privileged, could see

344 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
before him only the house entrance, always closed with
white shoji. Like all samurai homes, the residence it
self is but one story high, but there are fourteen rooms
within, and these are lofty, spacious, and beautiful.
There is, alas, no lake view nor any charming pros
pect. Part of the 0-Shiroyama, with the castle on
its summit, half concealed by a park of pines, may
be seen above the coping of the front wall, but only
a part; and scarcely a hundred yards behind the
house rise densely wooded heights, cutting off not
only the horizon, but a large slice of the sky as well.
For this immurement, however, there exists fair com
pensation in the shape of a very pretty garden, or
rather a series of garden spaces, which surround the
dwelling on three sides. Broad verandas overlook
these, and from a certain veranda angle I can enjoy
the sight of two gardens at once. Screens of bamboos
and woven rushes, with wide gateless openings in
their midst, mark the boundaries of the three divisions
of the pleasure-grounds. But these structures are
not intended to serve as true fences ; they are orna
mental, and only indicate where one style of land
scape gardening ends and another begins.

Now a few words upon Japanese gardens in gen*
eral. After having learned — merely by seeing, for the
practical knowledge of the art requires years of study
and experience, besides a natural, instinctive sense
of beauty — something about the Japanese manner
of arranging flowers, one can thereafter consider
European ideas of floral decoration only as vulgari-
ties. This observation is not the result of any hasty

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 345
enthusiasm, but a conviction settled by long residence
in the interior; I have come to understand the un
speakable loveliness of a solitary spray of blossoms
arranged as only a Japanese expert knows how to
arrange it, — not by simply poking the spray into a
vase, but by perhaps one whole hour's labor of trim
ming and posing and daintiest manipulation, — and
therefore I cannot think now of what we Occidentals
call a " bouquet " as anything but a vulgar murdering
of flowers, an outrage upon the color-sense, a bru
tality, an abomination. Somewhat in the same way,
and for similar reasons, after having learned what an
old Japanese garden is, I can remember our costliest
gardens at home only as ignorant displays of what
wealth can accomplish in the creation of incongrui
ties that violate nature.
Now a Japanese garden is not a flower garden ;
neither is it made for the purpose of cultivating
plants. In nine cases out of ten there is nothing in
it resembling a flower-bed. Some gardens may con
tain scarcely a sprig of green ; some have nothing
green at all, and consist entirely of rocks and peb
bles and sand, although these are exceptional.^ As
a rule, a Japanese garden is a landscape garden, yet
its existence does not depend upon any fixed allow
ance of space. It may cover one acre or many acres.
It may also be only ten feet square. It may, in ex
treme cases, be much less ; for a certain kind of
1 Such as the garden attached to the abbot's palace at Toknwa-
monji, cited by Mr. Conder, which was made to commemorate the
legend of stones which bowed themselves in assent to the doctrine of
Buddha. At Togo-ike, in Tottori-ken, I saw a very large garden
consisting almost entirely of stones and sand. The impression which
the designer had intended to convey was that of approaching the sea
over a verge of dunes, and the illusion was beautiful.

346 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Japanese garden can be contrived small enough to
put in a tokonoma. Such a garden, in a vessel no
larger than a fruit-dish, is called koniwa or toko-
niwa, and may occasionally be seen in the tokonoma
of humble little dwellings so closely squeezed be
tween other structures as to possess no ground in
which to cultivate an outdoor garden. (I say " an
outdoor garden," because there are indoor gardens,
both upstairs and downstairs, in some large Japa
nese houses.) The toko-niwa is usually made in
some curious bowl, or shallow carved box, or quaintly
shaped vessel impossible to describe by any English
word. Therein are created minuscule hills with
minuscule houses upon them, and microscopic ponds
and rivulets spanned by tiny humped bridges; and
queer wee plants do duty for trees, and curiously
formed pebbles stand for rocks, and there are tiny
toro, perhaps a tiny torii as well, — in short, a charm-
jng and living model of a Japanese landscape.
Another fact of prime importance to remember is
that, in order to comprehend the beauty of a Japa
nese garden, it is necessary to understand — or at
least to learn to understand — the beauty of stones.
Not of stones quarried by the hand of man, but of
stones shaped by nature only. Until you can feel,
and keenly feel, that stones have character, that
stones have tones and values, the whole artistic mean
ing of a Japanese garden cannot be revealed to you.
In the foreigner, however aesthetic he may be, this
feeling needs to be cultivated by study. It is inborn
in the Japanese ; the soul of the race comprehends
Nature infinitely better than we do, at least in her
visible forms. But although, being an Occidental,
the true sense of the beauty of stones can be reached

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 347
by you only through long familiarity with the Jap
anese use and choice of them, the characters of the
lessons to be acquired exist everywhere about you,
if your life be in the interior. You cannot walk
through a street without observing tasks and problems
in the aesthetics of stones for you to master. At the
approaches to temples, by the side of roads, before
holy groves, and in all parks and pleasure-grounds,
as well as in all cemeteries, you will notice large,
irregular, flat slabs of natural rock — mostly from
the river beds and water-worn — sculptured with
ideographs, but unhewn. These have been set up as
votive tablets, as commemorative monuments, as
tombstones, and are much more costly than the ordi
nary cut-stone columns and haka chiseled with the
figures of divinities in relief. Again, you will see
before most of the shrines, nay, even in the grounds
of nearly all large homesteads, great irregular blocks
of granite or other hard rock, worn by the action of
torrents, and converted into water-basins (jshodzii-
hachi~) by cutting a circular hollow in the top. Such
are but common examples of the utilization of stones
even in the poorest villages; and if you have any
natural artistic sentiment, you cannot fail to discover,
sooner or later, how much more beautiful are these
natural forms than any shapes frora the hand of the
stone-cutter. It is probable, too, that you will be
come so habituated at last to the sight of inscriptions
cut upon rock surfaces, especially if you travel much
through the country, that you will often find yourself
involuntarily looking for texts or other chiselings
where there are none, and could not possibly be, as
if ideographs belonged by natural law to rock forma
tion. And stones will begin, perhaps, to assume for

348 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
you a certain individual or physiognomical aspect, — •
to suggest moods and sensations, as they do to the
Japanese. Indeed, Japan is particularly a land of
suggestive shapes in stone, as high volcanic lands are
apt to be ; and such shapes doubtless addressed them
selves to the imagination of the race at a time long
prior to the date of that archaic text which tells of
demons in Izumo " who made rocks, and the roots of
trees, and leaves, and the foam of the green wafers
to speak."
As might be expected in a country where the sug
gestiveness of natural forms is thus recognized, there
are in Japan many curious beliefs and superstitions
concerning stones. In almost every province there
are famous stones supposed to be sacred or haunted,
or to possess miraculous powers, such as the Women's
Stone at the temple of Hachiman at Kamakura, and
the Sessho-seki, or Death Stone of Nasu, and the
Wealth-giving Stone at Enoshima, to which pilgrims
pay reverence. There are even legends of stones
having manifested sensibility, like the tradition of the
Nodding Stones which bowed down before the monk
Daita when he preached unto them the word of Bud
dha ; or the ancient story from the Kojiki, that the
Emperor O- Jin, being augustly intoxicated, " smote
with his august staff a great stone in the middle of
the Ohosaka road, whereupon the stone ran away !"'^
Now stones are valued for their beauty ; and large
stones selected for their shape may have an aesthetic
worth of hundreds of dollars. And large stones
form the skeleton, or framework, in the design of old
Japanese gardens. Not only is every stone chosen
with a view to its particular expressiveness of form,
I ^ The Kojiki, translated by Professor B. H. Chamberlain, p. 254.

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 349
but every stone in the garden or about the premises
has its separate and individual name, indicating its
purpose or its decorative duty. But I can tell you
only a little, a very little, of the folk-lore of a Japa
nese garden ; and if you want to know more about
stones and their names, and about the philosophy of
gardens, read the unique essay of Mr. Conder on the
Art of Landscape Gardening in Japan,i and his beau
tiful book on the Japanese Art of Floral Decoration ;
and also the brief but charming chapter on Gardens,
in Morse's Japanese Homes.^ m.
No effort to create an impossible or purely ideal
landscape is made in the Japanese garden. Its ar
tistic purpose is to copy faithfully the attractions of a
veritable landscape, and to convey the real impression
that a real landscape communicates. It is therefore
at once a picture and a poem ; perhaps even more a
poem than a picture. For as nature's scenery, in its
varying aspects, affects us with sensations of joy or
of solemnity, of grimness or of sweetness, of force or of
peace, so must the true reflection of it in the labor of
1 Since this paper was written, Mr. Conder has published a beau
tiful illustrated volume, — " Landscape Gardening in Japan. By
Josiah Conder, F. R. I., B. A. Tokyo : 1893." A photographic sup
plement to the work gives views of the most famous gardens in the
capital and elsewhere.
2 The observations of Dr. Rein on Japanese gardens are not t» be
recommended, in respect either to accuracy or to comprehension of
the subject. Rein spent only two years in Japan, the larger part of
which time he devoted to the study of the lacquer industry, the manu
facture of silk and paper, and other practical matters. On these sub
jects his work is justly valued. But his chapters on Japanese man
ners and customs, art, religion, and literature show extremely little
acquaintance with those topics.

350 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
the landscape gardener create not merely an impres«
sion of beauty, but a mood in the soul. The grand
old landscape gardeners, those Buddhist monks who
first introduced the art into Japan, and subsequently
developed it into an almost occult science, carried
their theory yet farther than this. They held it pos
sible to express moral lessons in the design of a gar
den, and abstract ideas, such as Chastity, Faith, Piety,
Content, Calm, and Connubial Bliss. Therefore were
gardens contrived according to the character of the
owner, whether poet, warrior, philosopher, or priest.
In those ancient gardens (the art, alas, is passing
away under the withering influence of the utterly
commonplace Western taste) there were expressed
both a mood of nature and some rare Oriental con
ception of a mood of man.
I do not know what human sentiment the princi
pal division of my garden was intended to reflect;
and there is none to tell me. Those by whom it was
made passed away long generations ago, in the eter
nal transmigration of souls. But as a poem of na
ture it requires no interpreter. It occupies the front
portion of the grounds, facing south ; and it also ex
tends west to the verge of the nortliern division of the
garden, from which it is partly separated by a curi
ous screen-fence structure. There are large rocks in
it, heavily mossed ; and divers fantastic basins of
stone for holding water ; and stone lamps green with
years; and a shachihoko, such as one sees at the
peaked angles of castle roofs, — a great stone fish, an
idealized porpoise, with its nose in the ground and its
tail in the air.^ There are miniature hills, with old
1 This attitude of the shachihoko is somewhat de rigueur, whence the

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 351
trees upon them ; and there are long slopes of green,
shadowed by flowering shrubs, like river banks ; and
there are green knolls like islets. All these verdant
elevations rise from spaces of pale yellow sand, smooth
as a surface of silk and miming the curves and me-
anderings of a river course. These sanded spaces
are not to be trodden upon ; they are much too beau
tiful for that. The least speck of dirt would mar
their effect ; and it requires the trained skill of an
experienced native gardener — a delightful old man
he is — to keep them in perfect form. But they are
traversed in various directions by lines of flat unhewn
rock slabs, placed at slightly irregular distances from
one another, exactly like stepping-stones across a
brook. The whole effect is that of the shores of a
still stream in some lovely, lonesome, drowsy place.
There is nothing to break the illusion, so secluded
the garden is. High walls and fences shut out streets
and contiguous things ; and the shrubs and the trees,
heightening and thickening toward the boundaries,
conceal from view even the roofs of the neighboring
katchiii-yashiki. Softly beautiful are the tremulous
shadows of leaves on the sunned sand ; and the scent
of flowers comes thinly sweet with every waft of tepid
air ; and there is a humming of bees.
rv.
By Buddhism all existences are divided into Sijo,
things without desire, such as stones and trees ; and
Ujo, things having desire, such as men and animals.
This division does not, so far as I know, find expres
sion in the written philosophy of gardens ; but it is a
common expression shactiihoko dai, signifying " to stand on one's
head."

352 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
convenient one. The folk-lore of my little domain
relates both to the inanimate and the animate. In
natural order, the Hijo may be considered first, begin
ning with a singular shrub near the entrance of the
yashiki, and close to the gate of the first garden.
Within the front gateway of almost every old
samurai house, and usually near the entrance of the
dwelling itself, there is to be seen a small tree with
large and peculiar leaves. The name of this tree in
Izumo is tegashiwa, and there is one beside my door.
What the scientific name of it is I do not know ; nor
am I quite sure of the etymology of the Japanese
name. However, there is a word tegashi, meaning a
bond for the hands ; and the shape of the leaves of
the tegashiwa somewhat resembles the shape of a
hand. Now, in old days, when the samurai retainer was
obliged to leave his home in order to accompany his
daimyo to Yedo, it was customary, just before hia
departure, to set before him a baked tai ^ served up
on a tegashiwa leaf. After this farewell repast, the
leaf upon which the tai had been served was hung up
above the door as a charm to bring the departed
knight safely back again. This pretty superstition
about the leaves of the tegashiwa had its origin not
only in their shape but in their movement. Stirred
by a wind they seemed to beckon, — not indeed after
our Occidental manner, but in the way that a Jap
anese signs to his friend to come, by gently waving
his hand up and down with the palm towards the
ground. ^ The magniflcent perch called tai (Serranus marginalis), which is
very common along the Izumo coast, is not only justly prized as the
most delicate of Japanese flsh, but is also held to be an emblem of

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 353
Another shrub to be found in most Japanese
gardens is the nanten,^ about wbich a very curious
belief exists. If you have an evil dream, a dream
which bodes ill luck, you should whisper it to the
nanten early in the morning, and then it will never
come true.2 There are two varieties of this graceful
plant : one which bears red berries, and one which
bears white. The latter is rare. Both kinds grow
in my garden. The common variety is placed close
to the veranda (perhaps for the convenience of dream
ers) ; the other occupies a little flower-bed in the
middle of the garden, together with a small citron-
tree. This most dainty citron-tree is called "Bud
dha's fingers," ^ because of the wonderful shape of its
fragrant fruits. Near it stands a kind of laurel, with
lanciform leaves glossy as bronze ; it is called by the
good fortune. It is a ceremonial gift at weddings and on congratu
latory occasions. The Japanese call it also " the king of fishes."
1 Nandina domestica.
" The most lucky of all dreams, they say in Izumo, is a dream of
Fuji, the Sacred Mountain. Next in order of good omen is dreaming
of a falcon (taka). The third best subject for a dream is the egg
plant (nasubi). To dream of the sun or of the moon is very lucky ;
bnt it is StUl more so to dream of stars. Tor a young vrife it is most
fortunate to dream of swallowing a star: this signifies that she will
become the mother of a beautiful child. To dream of a cow is a good
omen ; to dream of a horse is lucky, but it signifies traveling. To
dream of rain or fire is good. Some dreams are held in Japan, as in
the West, " to go by contraries." Therefore to dream of having one's
house burned up, or of funerals, or of being dead, or of talking to the
ghost of a dead person, is good. Some dreams which are good for
women mean the reverse when dreamed by men ; for example, it is
good for a woman to dream that her nose bleeds, but for a man this
is very bad. To dream of much money is a sign of loss to come. To
dream of the koi, or of any fresh-water fish, is the most unlucky of
all. This is curious, for iu other parts of Japan the koi is a sym.
bol of good fortune.
' Tehuskutmn : Citrus sarkodactilis.

354 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Japanese yuzuri-ha,^ and is almost as common in the
gardens of old samurai homes as the tegashiwa itself.
It is held to be a tree of good omen, because no one
of its old leaves ever falls off before a new one, grow
ing behind it, has weU developed. For thus the yuzuri-
ha symbolizes hope that the father will not pass away
before his son has become a vigorous man, well able
to succeed him as the head of the family. Therefore,
on every New Year's Day the leaves of the yuzuri-ha,
mingled with fronds of fern, are attached to the
shimenawa which is then suspended before every
Izumo home. V.
The trees, like the shrubs, have their curious poetry
and legends. Like the stones, each tree has its special
landscape name according to its position and purpose
in the composition. Just as rocks and stones form
the skeleton of the ground-plan of a garden, so pines
form the framework of its foliage design. They give
body to the whole. In this garden there are five pines,
— not pines tormented into fantasticalities, but pines
made wondrously picturesque by long and tireless
care and judicious trimming. The object of the
gardener has been to develop to the utmost possible
degree their natural tendency to rugged line and
massings of foliage, — that spiny sombre-green foli
age which Japanese art is never weary of imitating
in metal inlay or golden lacquer. The pine is a sym
bolic tree in this land of symbolism. Ever green, it
is at once the emblem of unflinching purpose and of
vigorous old age ; and its needle-shaped leaves are
credited with the power of driving demons away.
1 Yuzuru signifies to resign in favor of another ; ha signifles a leaf.
The botanical name, as given in Hepburn's dictionary, is DaphniphiU
btm maaopodum.

JN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 355
There are two sakuranoki,i Japanese cherry-trees,
— those trees whose blossoms, as Professor Chamber
lain so justly observes, are " beyond comparison more
lovely than anything Europe has to show." Many
varieties are cultivated and loved ; those in my gar
den bear blossoms of the most ethereal pink, a flushed
white. When, in spring, the trees flower, it is as
though fleeciest masses of cloud faintly tinged by sun
set had floated down from the highest sky to fold
themselves about the branches. This comparison ia
no poetical exaggeration ; neither is it original : it ia
an ancient Japanese description of the most marvel
ous floral exhibition which nature is capable of
inaking. The reader who has never seen a cherry-
tree blossoming in Japan cannot possibly imagine the
delight of the spectacle. There are no green leaves ;
these come later : there is only one glorious burst of
blossoms, veiling every twig and bough in their deli
cate mist ; and the soil beneath each tree is .covered
deep out of sight by fallen petals as by a drift of
pink snow.
But these are cultivated cherry-trees. There are
others which put forth their leaves before their
blossoms, such us the yamazakura, or mountain
cherry.^ This too, however, has its poetry of beauty
and of symbolism. Sang the great Shinto writer and
poet, Motowori : —
1 Cerasus pseudo-cerasus (Lindley).
2 About this mountain cherry there is a, humorous saying which
illustrates the Japanese love of puns. In order fully to appreciate it,
the reader should know that Japanese nouns have no distinction of
singular and plural. The word ha, as pronounced, may signify either
" leaves " or " teeth ; " and the word hana, either " flowers " or " nose."
The yamazakura put.s forih its ha (leaves) before its hana (flowers).
Wherefore a man whose ha (teeth) project iu advance of his hana
(nose) is called a yamazakura. Prognathism is not uncommon in
Japan, especially among the lower classes.

356 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Shihishima no
Yamato-gokoro tm
Hito-towaba, Asa-hi ni niou
Yamazakura bana.^
Whether cultivated or uncultivated, the Japanese
cherry-trees are emblems. Those planted in old
samurai gardens were not cherished for their loveli
ness alone. Their spotless blossoms were regarded
as symbolizing that delicacy of sentiment and blame-
lessness of life belonging to high courtesy and true
knightliness. "As the cherry flower is first among
flowers," says an old proverb, " so should the warrior
be first among men."
Shadowing the western end of this garden, and
projecting its smooth dark limbs above the awning of
the veranda, is a superb umenoki, Japanese plum-tree,
very old, and originally planted here, no doubt, as in
other gardens, for the sake of the sight of its blossom
ing. The flowering of the umenoki,^ in the earliest
spring, is scarcely less astonishing than that of the
cherry-tree, which does not bloom for a full month
later ; and the blossoming of both is celebrated by
popular holidays. Nor are these, although the most
famed, the only flowers thus loved. The wistaria,
the convolvulus, the peony, each in its season, form
displays of efflorescence lovely enough to draw whole
populations out of the cities into the country to see
them. In Izumo, the blossoming of the peony is
especially marvelous. The most famous place for thia
spectacle is the little island of Daikonshima, in the
1 "If one should ask you concerning the heart of a true Japanese,
point to the wild cherry flower glowing in the sun."
^ There are three noteworthy varieties : one bearing red, one pinlt
and white, and one pure white flowers.

7iV A JAPANESE GARDEN. 357
grand Naka-umi lagoon, about an hour's sail from
Matsue. In May the whole island flames crimson
with peonies; and even the boys and girls of the
public schools are given a holiday, in order that they
may enjoy the sight.
Though the plum flower is certainly a rival in
beauty of the sakura-no-hana, the Japanese compare
woman's beauty — physical beauty — to the cherry
flower, never to tbe plum flower. But womanly
virtue and sweetness, on the other hand, are com
pared to the ume-no-hana, never to the cherry
blossom. It is a great mistake to affirm, as some
writers have done, that the Japanese never think of
comparing a woman to trees and flowers. For grace,
a maiden is likened to a slender willow ; ^ for youthful
charm, to the cherry-tree in flower; for sweetness of
heart, to the blossoming plum-tree. Nay, the old Jap
anese poets have compared woman to all beautiful
things. They have even sought similes from flowers
for her various poses, for her movements, as in the
verse, — Tateba shakuyaku ; *
Suwareba botan ;
Aruku sugatawa
Himeyun ' no hanaS
Why, even the names of the humblest country
girls are often those of beautiful trees or flowers pre-
1 The expression yanagi-goshi, " a willow-waist," is one of several in
common use comparing slender beauty to the willow-tree.
2 Peonia albiflora. The name signifies the delicacy of beauty. The
simile of the botan (the tree peony) can be fully appreciated only by
one who is acquainted with the Japanese flower.
' Some say keshiyuri (poppy) instead of himeyuri. The latter is a
graceful species of lily, Lilium callosum.
^ " Standing, she is a shakuyaku ; seated, she is a botan ; and the
charm of her figure in walking is the charm of a himeyuri."

358 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
fixed by the honorific 0:^ 0-Matsu (Pine), O-Takg
(Bamboo), 0-Umg (Plum), 0-Hana (Blossom),
0-ln^ (Ear-of- Young-Rice), not to speak of the pio-
fessional flower-names of dancing-girls and of joro.
It has been argued with considerable force that the
origin of certain tree-names borne by girls must be
sought in the folk-conception of the tree as an em
blem of longevity, or happiness, or good fortune,
rather than in any popular idea of the beauty of the
tree in itself. But however this may be, proverb,
poem, song, and popular speech to-day yield ample
proof that the Japanese comparisons of women to
trees and flowers are in no wise inferior to our own
in aesthetic sentiment. VI.
That trees, at least Japanese trees, have souls, can
not seem an unnatural fancy to one who has seen the
blossoming of the umenoki and the sakuranoki. This
is a popular belief in Izumo and elsewhere. It is not
in accord with Buddhist philosophy, and yet in a
certain sense it strikes one as being much closer to
cosmic truth than the old Western orthodox notion
of trees as " things created for the use of man."
Furthermore, there exist several odd superstitions
about particular trees, not unlike certain West Indian
beliefs which have had a good influence in checking
the destruction of valuable timber. Japan, like the
tropical world, has its goblin trees. Of these, the
enoki (^Celtis Willdenowiana') and the yanagi (droop-
1 In the higher classes of Japanese society to-day, the honorific O
is not, as a rule, used before the names of girls, and showy appella
tions are not given to daughters. Even among the poor respectable
classes, names resembling those of geisha, etc., are in disfavor. But
those above cited are good, honest, every-day names.

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 359
ing willow) are deemed especially ghostly, and are
rarely now to be found in old Japanese gardens.
Both are believed to have the power of haunting.
"Unoki ga bakeru," the Izumo saying is. You will
find in a Japanese dictionary the word "bakeru"
translated by such terms as " to be transformed," "to
be metamorphosed," " to be changed," etc. ; but the
belief about tbese trees is very singular, and cannot
be explained by any such rendering of the verb " ba
keru." The tree itself does not change form or place,
but a spectre called Ki-no o-bake disengages itself
from the tree and walks about in various guises.^
Most often the shape assumed by the phantom is that
of a beautiful woman. The tree spectre seldom
speaks, and seldom ventures to go very far away from
its tree. If approached, it immedirttely shrinks back
into the trunk or the foliage. It is said that if either
an old yanagi or a young enoki be cut blood will flow
from the gash. When such trees are very young it
is not believed that they have supernatural habits,
but they become more dangerous the older they
grow. There is a rather pretty legend — recalling the old
Greek dream of dryads — about a willow-tree which
grew in the garden of a samurai of Kyoto. Owing
to its weird reputation, the tenant of the homestead
1 Mr. Satow has found in Hirata a belief to which this seems to
some extent akin, — the curious Shinto doctrine "according to which
a divine being throws ofi' portions of itself by a process of fissure, thus
producing what are called waki-mi-tama, — parted spirits, with sepa
rate functions." The great god of Izumo, Oho-kuni-nushi-no-Kami,
is .said by Hirata to have three such " parted spirits : " his rough
spirit {ara-mi-tama) that punishes, his gentle spirit (nigi-mi-tama) that
pardons, and his benedictory or beneficent spirit (saki-mi-tama) that
blesses. There is a Shinto story that the rough spirit of this god once
met the gentle spirit without recognizing it.
VOL. H.

860 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
desired to cut it down ; but another samurai dissuaded
him, saying : " Rather sell it to me, that I may plant
it in my garden. That tree has a soul; it were
cruel to destroy its life." Thus purchased and trans
planted, the yanagi flourished well in its new home,
and its spirit, out of gratitude, took the form of a
beautiful woman, and became the wife of the samurai
who had befriended it. A charming boy was the
result of this union. A few years later, the daimyo
to whom the ground belonged gave orders that the
tree should be cut down. Then the wife wept bit
terly, and for the first time revealed to her husband
the whole story. " And now," she added, " I know
that I must die ; but our child will live, and you will
always love him. This thought is my only solace."
Vainly the astonished and terrified husband sought
to retain her. Bidding him farewell forever, she
vanished into the tree. Needless to say that the
samurai did everything in his powev to persuade the
daimyo to forego his purpose. The prince wanted
the tree for the reparation of a great Buddhist tem
ple, the San-jiu-san-gen-do.^ The tree was felled,
but, having fallen, it suddenly became so heavy that
three hundred men could not move it. Then the
child, taking a branch in his little hand, said,
"Come," and the tree followed him, gliding along
the ground to the court of the temple.
Although said to be a bakemono-ki, the enoki some
times receives highest religious honors ; for the spirit
of the god Kojin, to whom old dolls are dedicated,
ia supposed to dwell within certain very ancient
1 Perhaps the most impressive of all the Buddhist temples in
Kyoto. It is dedicated to Kwannon of the Thousand Hands, and ia
¦aid to contain 33,333 of her images.

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 361
enoki trees, and before these are placed shrines
whereat people make prayers. vn.
The second garden, on the north side, is my favoi •
ite. It contains no large growths. It is paved with
blue pebbles, and its centre is occupied by a pondlet,
— a miniature lake fringed with rare plants, and con
taining a tiny island, with tiny mountains and dwarf
peach-trees and pines and azaleas, some of which are
perhaps more than a century old, though scarcely
more than a foot high. Nevertheless, this work, seen
as it was intended to be seen, does not appear to the
eye in miniature at all. From a certain angle of the
guest-room looking out upon it, the appearance is
that of a real lake shore with a real island beyond it,
a stone's throw away. So cunning the art of the
ancient gardener who contrived all this, and who has
been sleeping for a hundred years under the cedars
of Gesshoji, that the illusion can be detected only
from the zashiki by the presence of an ishidoro, or
stone lamp, upon the island. The size of the ishidoro
betrays the false perspective, and I do not think it
was placed there when the garden was made.
Here and there at the edge of the pond, and almost
level with the water, are placed large flat stones, on
which one may either stand or squat, to watch the
lacustrine population or to tend the water-plants.
There are beautiful water-lilies, whose bright green
leaf-disks float oilily upon the surface (^Nuphar Jo-
ponica), and many lotus plants of two kinds, those
which bear pink and those which bear pure white
flowers. There are iris plants growing along the
bank, whose blossoms are prismatic violet, and there

862 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
are various ornamental grasses and ferns and mosses.
But the pond is essentially a lotus pond ; the lotus
plants make its greatest charm. It is a delight to
watch every phase of their marvelous growth, from
the first unrolling of the leaf to the fall of the last
flower. On rainy days, especially, the lotus plants
are worth observing. Their great cup-shaped leaves,
swaying high above the pond, catch the rain and hold
it a while; but always after the water in the leaf
reaches a certain level the stem bends, and empties the
leaf with a loud plash, and then straightens again.
Rain-water upon a lotus -leaf is a favorite subject
with Japanese metal-workers, and metal- work only
can reproduce the effect, for the motion and color of
water moving upon the green oleaginous surface are
exactly those of quicksilver. vni.
The third garden, which is very large, extends be
yond the inclosure containing the lotus pond to the
foot of the wooded hills which form the northern and
northeastern boundary of this old samurai quarter.
Formerly all this broad level space was occupied by
a bamboo grove ; but it is now little more than a
waste of grasses and wild flowers. In the northeast
corner there is a magnificent well, from which ice-cold
water is brought into the house through a most in
genious little aqueduct of bamboo pipes ; and in the
northwestern end, veiled by tall weeds, there stands
a very small stone shrine of Inari, with two propor
tionately small stone foxes sitting before it. Shrine
and images are chipped and broken, and thickly
patched with dark green moss. But on the east sida
of the house one little square of soil belonging to this

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 363
large division of the garden is still cultivated. It is
devoted entirely to chrj'santhemum plants, which are
shielded from heavy rain and strong sun by slanting
frames of light wood fashioned like shoji, with panes
of white paper, and supported like awnings upon thin
posts of bamboo. I can venture to add nothing to
what has already been written about these marvelous
products of Japanese floriculture considered in them
selves ; but there is a little story relating to chrysan
themums which I may presume to tell.
There is one place in Japan where it is thought
unlucky to cultivate chrysanthemums, for reasons
which shall presently appear ; and that plaee is in the
pretty little city of Himeji, in the province of Hariraa,
Himeji contains the ruins of a great castle of thirty
turrets ; and a daimyo used to dwell therein whose
revenue was one hundred and flfty-six thousand koku
of rice. Now, in the house of one of that daimyo's
chief retainers there was a maid-servant, of good
family, whose name was 0-Kiku ; and the name
" Kiku " signifies a chrysanthemum flower. Many
precious things were intrusted to her charge, and
among others ten costly dishes of gold. One of these
was suddenly missed, and could not be found ; and
the girl, being responsible therefor, and knowing
not how otherwise to prove her innocence, drowned
herself in a well. But ever thereafter her ghost,
returning nightly, could be heard counting the dishes
slowly, with sobs : —
Ichi-mai, Yo-mai, Shichi-mai,
Ni-mai, Go-mai, Sachi-mat,
San-mai, Roku-mai, Ku-mai —
Then would be heard a despairing cry and a loud

364 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
burst of weeping ; and again the girl's voice counting
the dishes plaintively: "One — two — three — four
¦ — five — six — seven — eight — 7iine " —
Her spirit passed into the body of a strange little
insect, whose head faintly resembles that of a ghost
with long disheveled hair; and it is called O-Kiku-
mushi, or " the fly of 0-Kiku; " and it is found, they
say, nowhere save in Himeji. A famous play was
written about 0-Kiku, which is still acted in all the
popular theatres, entitled Banshu-0-Kiku-no-Sara-ya-
shiki; or. The Manor of the Dish of 0-Kiku of
Banshu. Some declare that Banshu is only the corruption of
the name of an ancient quarter of Tokyo (Yedo),
where the story should have been laid. But the peo
ple of Himeji say that part of their city now called
Go-Ken- Yashiki is identical with the site of the an
cient manor. What is certainly true is that to culti
vate chrysanthemum flowers in the part of Himeji
called Go-Ken- Yashiki is deemed unlucky, because
the name of 0-Kiku signifies " Chrysanthemum."
Therefore, nobody, I am told, ever cultivates chry
santhemums there. IX.
Now of the ujo, or things having desire, which in
habit these gardens.
There are four species of frogs : three that dwell in
the lotus pond, and one that lives in the trees. The
tree frog is a very pretty little creature, exquisitely
green ; it has a shrill cry, almost like the note of a
semi ; and it is called amagaeru, or " the rain frog,"
because, like its kindred in other countries, its croak
ing is an omen of rain. The pond frogs are called
babagaeru, shinagaeru, and Tono-san-gaeru. Of these,

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 365
the first named variety is the largest and the ugliest :
its color is very disagreeable, and its full name
(" babagaeru " being a decent abbreviation) is quite
as offensive as its hue. The shinagaeru, or "striped
frog," is not handsome, except by comparison with
the previously mentioned creature. But the Tono-
san-gaeru, so called after a famed daimyo who left
behind him a memory of great splendor, is beautiful :
its color is a fine bronze-red.
Besides these varieties of frogs there lives in the
garden a huge uncouth goggle-eyed thing which, al
though called here hikigaeru, I take to be a toad. " Hi-
kigaeru " is the term ordinarily used for a bullfrog.
This creature enters the house almost daily to be
fed, and seems to have no fear even of strangers. My
people consider it a luck-bringing visitor; and it is
credited with the power of drawing all the mosquitoes
out of a room into its mouth by simply sucking its
breath in. Much as it is cherished by gardeners and
others, there is a legend about a goblin toad of old
times, which, by thus sucking in its breath, drew into
its mouth, not insects, but men.
The pond is inhabited also by many small fish ;
imori, or newts, with bright red bellies ; and multi
tudes of little water-beetles, called maimaimushi,
which pass their whole time in gyrating upon the
surface of the water so rapidly that it is almost im
possible to distinguish their shape clearly. A man
who runs about aimlessly to and fro, under the influ
ence of excitement, is compared to a maimaimushi.
And there are some beautiful snails, with yellow
stripes on their shells. Japanese children have a
charm-song which is supposed to have power to make
the snaU put out its horns : - —

866 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Daidaimushi,^ daidatmushi, tsuno chitto dashare !
Ame kazefuku kara tsuno chitto dashare ! ^
The playground of the children of the better
classes has always been the family garden, as that of
the children of the poor is the temple court. It is in
the garden that the little ones first learn something
of the wonderful life of plants and the marvels of the
insect world ; and there, also, they are first taught
those pretty legends and songs about birds and flowers
which form so charming a part of Japanese folk-lore.
As the home training of the child is left mostly to the
mother, lessons of kindness to animals are early incul
cated; and the results are strongly marked in after
life. It is true, Japanese children are not entirely
free from that unconscious tendency to cruelty char
acteristic of children in all countries, as a survival of
primitive instincts. But in this regard the great
moral difference between the sexes is strongly marked
from the earliest years. The tenderness of the woman-
soul appears even in the child. Little Japanese girls
who play with insects or small animals rarely hurt
them, and generally set them free after they have
afforded a reasonable amount of amusement. Little
boys are not nearly so good, when out of sight of
parents or guardians. But if seen doing anything
cruel, a child is made to feel ashamed of the act, and
hears the Buddhist warning, " Thy future birth will
be unhappy, if thou dost cruel things."
Somewhere among the rocks in the pond lives a
small tortoise, — left in the garden, probably, by the
1 Daidaimushi in Izumo. The dictionary word is dedemushi. The
snail is supposed to be very fond of wet weather ; and one who goes
out much in the rain is compared to a snail, — dedemushi no yona.
2 " Snail, snail, put out your horns a little : it rains and the wind ia
blowing, so put out your horns, just for a little while."

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 367
previous tenants of the house. It is very pretty, but
manages to remain invisible for weeks at a time. In
popular mythology, the tortoise is the servant of the
divinity Kompira;i and if a pious fisherman finds a
tortoise, he writes upon his back characters signifying
" Servant of the Deity Kompira," and then gives it a
drink of sake and sets it free. It is supposed to be
very fond of sake.
Some say that the land tortoise, or "stone tor
toise," only, is the servant of Kompira, and the sea
tortoise, or turtle, the servant of the Dragon Empire
beneath the sea. The turtle is said to have the
power to create, with its breath, a cloud, a fog, or a
magnificent palace. It figures in the beautiful old
folk-tale of Urashima.^ All tortoises are supposed
to live for a thousand years, wherefore one of the
most frequent symbols of longevity in Japanese art
is a tortoise. But the tortoise most commonly repre
sented by native painters and metal-workers has a
peculiar tail, or rather a multitude of small tails, ex
tending behind it like the fringes of a straw rain-coat,
mino, whence it is called minogam^. Now, some of
the tortoises kept in the sacred tanks of Buddhist
temples attain a prodigious age, and certain water-
plants attach themselves to the creatures' shells and
stream behind them when they walk. The myth of
the minogam^ is supposed to have had its origin in
old artistic efforts to represent the appearance of
such tortoises with confervas fastened upon their
shells. 1 A Buddhist divinity, but within recent times identified by Shinto
with the god Kotohira.
2 See Professor Chamberlain's version of it in The Japanese Fairy
Tale Series, with charming illustrations by a native artist.

368 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.

X.
Early in summer the frogs are surprisingly nu-
merous, and, after dark, are noisy beyond description ;
but week by week their nightly clamor grows feebler,
as their numbers diminish under the attacks of many
fenemies. A large family of snakes, some fully three
feet long, make occasional inroads into the colony.
The victims often utter piteous cries, which are
promptly responded to, whenever possible, by some
inmate of the house, and many a frog has been saved
by my servant-girl, who, by a gentle tap with a
bamboo rod, compels the snake to let its prey go.
These snakes are beautiful swimmers. They make
themselves quite free about the garden; but they
come out only on hot days. None of my people
would think of injuring or killing one of them. In
deed, in Izumo it is said that to kill a snake is un
lucky, " If you kill a snake without provocation,"
a peasant assured me, "you will afterwards find its
head in the komebitsu [the box in which cooked rice
is kept] when you take off the lid."
But the snakes devour comparatively few frogs.
Impudent kites and crows are their most implacable
destroyers ; and there is a very pretty weasel which
lives under the kura (godown), and which does not
hesitate to take either fish or frogs out of the pond,
even when the lord of the manor is watching. There
is also a cat which poaches in my preserves, a gaunt
outlaw, a master thief, which I have made sundry
vain attempts to reclaim from vagabondage. Partly
because of the immorality of this cat, and partly be
cause it happens to have a long tail, it has the evil
reputation of being a nekomata, or goblin cat.

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 369
It is true that in Izumo some kittens are born with
long tails ; but it is very seldom that they are suffered
to grow up with long tails. For the natural tendency
of cats is to become goblins ; and this tendency to
metamorphosis can be checked only by cutting off
their tails in kittenhood. Cats are magicians, taila
or no tails, and have the power of making corpses
dance. Cats are ungrateful. "Feed a dog for three
days," says a Japanese proverb, " and he will remem
ber your kindness for three years; feed a cat for
three years and she will forget your kindness in three
days." Cats are mischievous: they tear the mat
tings, and make holes in the shoji, and sharpen their
claws upon the pillars of tokonoma. Cats are under
a curse : only the cat and the venomous serpent wept
not at the death of Buddha ; and these shall never
enter into the bliss of the Gokuraku. For all these
reasons, and others too numerous to relate, cats are
not much loved in Izumo, and are compelled to pass
the greater part of their lives out of doors.
XI.
Not less than eleven varieties of butterflies have
visited the neighborhood of the lotus pond within the
past few days. The most common variety is snowy
white. It is supposed to be especially attracted by
the na, or rapeseed plant ; and when little girls see
it, they sing : —
Cho-cho, cho-dio, na no ha ni tomare ;
Na no ha ga iyenara, te ni tomare.^
But the most interesting insects are certainly the
semi (cicadae). These Japanese tree crickets are
1 " Butterfly, little butterfly, light upon the na leaf. But if thou dost
not like the na leaf, light, I pray thee, upon my hand."

370 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
much more extraordinary singers than even the won^
derful cicadae of the tropics ; and they are much less
tiresome, for there is a different species of semi, with
a totally different song, for almost every month during
the whole warm season. There are, I believe, seven
kinds ; but I have become familiar with only four.
The first to be heard in my trees is the natsuzemi, or
summer semi: it makes a sound like the Japanese
monosyllable ji, beginning wheezily, slowly swelling
into a crescendo shrill as the blowing of steam, and
dying away in another wheeze. This j-i-i-iiiiiiiiii is
so deafening that when two or three natsuzemi come
close to the window I am obliged to make them go
away. Happily the natsuzemi is soon succeeded by
the minminzemi, a much finer musician, whose name
is derived from its wonderful note. It is said "to
chant like a Buddhist priest reciting the kyo ; " and
certainly, upon hearing it the first time, one can
scarcely believe that one is listening to a mere cicada.
The minminzemi is followed, early in autumn, by a
beautiful green semi, the higurashi, which makes
a singularly clear sound, like the rapid ringing of
a small bell, — kana-kana-kana-kana-kana. But the
most astonishing visitor of all comes still later, the
tsuku-tsuku-boshi.^ I fancy this creature can have
no rival iu the whole world of cicadae : its music is
exactly like the song of a bird. Its name, like that
of the minminzemi, is onomatopoetic ; but in Izumo
the sounds of its chant are given thus : —
Ts>iku4suku uism,^
Tsuku-tsuku uisu,
1 Boshi means " a hat ; " tsukeru, " to put on.'' Bnt this etymology
fs more than doubtful.
" Some say " Chokko-chokko-uisu,'' " Uisu " would be pronounced
in English very much like " weece," the final u being silent. " Uiosu"
would be something like " we-oce."

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 871
Tsuku-tsuku uisu ; —
Ui-osu,
Ui-osu,
Ui-osu,
Ui-ds-s^-s-s-s-s-s-su.
However, the aemi are not the only muaicians of
the garden. Two remarkable creatures aid their
orchestra. The first is a beautiful bright green
grasshopper, known to the Japanese by the curious
name of hotoke-no-uma, or "the horse of the dead."
This insect's head really bears some resemblance in
shape to the head of a horse, — hence the fancy. It
is a queerly familiar creature, allowing itself to be
taken in the hand without struggling, and generally
making itself quite at home in the house, which it
often enters. It makes a very thin sound, which the
Japanese write as a repetition of the syllables jun-ta ;
and the name junta is sometimes given to the grass
hopper itself. The other insect is also a green grass
hopper, somewhat larger, and much shyer : it ia
called gisu,' on account of its chant : —
Chon, Gisu ;
Chon, Gisu ;
Chon, Gisu ;
Chon . . . (ad libitum).
Several lovely species of dragon-flies (tomho) hover
about the pondlet on hot bright days. One variety
— the most beautiful creature of the kind I ever
saw, gleaming with metallic colors indescribable,
and spectrally slender — is called Tenshi-tombo, " the
Emperor's dragon-fly." There is another, the largest
1 Pronounced almost as " geece."

372 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
of Japanese dragon-flies, but somewhat rare, which ia
much sought after by children as a plaything. Of
this species it is said that there are many more males
than females ; and what I can vouch for as true is
that, if you catch a female, the male can be almost
immediately attracted by exposing the captive.
Boys, accordingly, try to secure a female, and when
one is captured they tie it with a thread to some
branch, and sing a curious little song, of which these
are the original words : —
Konna '¦ dansho Korai 6
Adstuma no meto ni mdkete
Nigeru wa tiaji dewa naikai f
Which signifies, "Thou, the male. King of Korea,
dost thou not feel shame to flee away from the Queen
of the East ? " (This taunt is an allusion to the story
of the conquest of Korea by the Empress Jin-go.)
And the male comes invariably, and is also caught.
In Izumo the first seven words of the original song
have been corrupted into " konna unjo Korai ahura
no mito ;" and the name of the male dragon-fly,
•unjo, and that of the female, mito, are derived from
two words of the corrupted version.
xn.
Of warm nights all sorts of unbidden guests invade
the house in multitudes. Two varieties of mosquitoes
do their utmost to make life unpleasant, and these
have learned the wisdom of not approaching a lamp
too closely ; but hosts of curious and harmless things
cannot be prevented from seeking their death in the
flame. The most numerous victims of all, which
come thick as a shower of rain, are called Sanemori.
1 Contraction of kore nara.

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 373
At least they are so called in Izumo, where they do
much damage to growing rice.
Now the name Sanemori is an illustrious one, that
of a famous warrior of old times belonging to the
Genji clan. There is a legend that while he was
fighting with an enemy on horseback his own steed
slipped and fell in a rice-field, and he was conse
quently overpowered and slain by his antagonist.
He became a rice-devouring insect, which is still re
spectfully called, by the peasantry of Izumo, Sane-
mori-San. They light fires, on certain summer nights,
in the rice-fields, to attract the insect, and beat gongs
and sound bamboo flutes, chanting the while, " O
Sanemori, augustly deign to come hither ! " A kan-
nushi performs a religious rite, and a straw figure
representing a horse and rider is then either burned
or thrown into a neighboring river or canal. By this
ceremony it is believed that the fields are cleared of
the insect.
This tiny creature is almost exactly the size and
color of a rice-husk. The legend concerning it may
have arisen from the fact that its body, together with
the wings, bears some resemblance to the helmet of
a Japanese warrior.^
1 A kindred legend attaches to the shiwan, a little yellow insect
which preys upon cucumbers. The shiwan is said to have been once
a physician, who, being detected in an amorous intrigue, had to fly
for his life ; but as he went his foot caught in a cucumber vine, so
that he fell and was overtaken and killed, and his ghost became an
msect, the destroyer of cucumber vines.
In the zoological mythology and plant mythology of Japan there
exist many legends offering a curious resemblance to the old Greek
tales of metamorphoses. Some of the most remarkable bits of such
folk-lore have originated, however, in comparatively modern time.
The legend of the crab called heikegani, found at Nagato, is an ex
ample. The souls of the Taira warriors who perished in the great
naval battle of Dan-no-ura (now Seto-Nakai), 1185, are supposed to

374 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Next in number among the victims of fire are the
moths, some of which are very strange and beautiful.
The most remarkable is an enormous creature popu
larly called okori-chocho, or the " ague moth," be
cause there is a superstitious belief that it brings
intermittent fever into any house it enters. It has a
body quite as heavy and almost as powerful as that
of the largest humming-bird, and its struggles, when
caught in the hand, surprise by their force. It makes
a very loud whirring sound while flying. The wings
of one which I examined measured, outspread, five
inches from tip to tip, yet seemed small in proportion
to the heavy body. They were richly mottled with
dusky browns and silver grays of various tones.
Many flying night-comers, however, avoid the
lamp. Most fantastic of all visitors is the toro or
kamakiri, called in Izumo kamakake, a bright green
praying mantis, extremely feared by children for its
capacity to bite. It is very large. I have seen speci
mens over six inches long. The eyes of the kama
kake are a brilliant black at night, but by day they
appear grass-colored, like the rest of the body. The
mantis is very intelligent and surprisingly aggressive.
I saw one attacked by a vigorous frog easily put its
enemy to flight. It fell a prey subsequently to other
inhabitants of the pond, but it required the combined
efforts of several frogs to vanquish the monstrous in
sect, and even then the battle was decided only when
the kamakak^ had been dragged into the water.
Other visitors are beetles of divers colors, and a
have been transformed into heikegani. The shell of the heikegani
is certainly surprising. It is wrinkled into the likeness of a grim face,
or rather into exact semblance of one of those black iron visors, or
masks, which feudal warriors wore in battle, and which were shaped
like frowning visages.

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 375
sort of small roach called goki-kaburi, signifying
"one whose head is covered with a bowl." It is
alleged that the goki-kaburi likes to eat human eyes,
and is therefore the abhorred enemy of Ichibata-
Sama, — Yakushi-Nyorai of Ichibata, — by whom
diseases of the eye are healed. To kill the goki-
kaburi is consequently thought to be a meritorious
act in the sight of this Buddha. Always welcome
are the beautiful fireflies (Jiotaru), which enter quite
noiselessly, and at once seek the darkest place in the
house, slow -glimmering, like sparks moved by a
gentle wind. They are supposed to be very fond of
water; wherefore children sing to them this little
song : — Hotaru kSe midzu nomasho ;
Aehi no midzu wa nigaizo ;
Kochi no midzu, wa amaizo.^
A pretty gray lizard, quite different from some
which usually haunt the garden, also makes its ap
pearance at night, and pursues its prey along the
ceiling. Sometimes an extraordinarily large centi
pede attempts the same thing, but with less success,
and has to be seized with a pair of fire-tongs and
thrown into the exterior darkness. Very rarely, an
enormous spider appears. This creature seems in
offensive. If captured, it will feign death until cer
tain that it is not watched, when it will run away
with surprising swiftness if it gets a chance. It
is hairless, and very different from the tarantula, or
fukurogumo. It is called miyamagumo, or mountain
spider. There are four other kinds of spiders com
mon in this neighborhood : tenagakumo, or " long-
^ " Come, flrefly, I wiU give you water to drink. The water of that
place is bitter ; the water here is sweet."
VOL. n.

876 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
armed spider ; " hiratakumo, or " flat spider ; " jikumo,
or " earth spider ; " and totatekumo, or " door-shutting
spider." Most spiders are considered evil beings. A
spider seen anywhere at night, the people say, should
be killed ; for all spiders that show themselves after
dark are goblins. While people are awake and
watchful, such creatures make themselves small ; but
when everybody is fast asleep, then they assume their
true goblin shape, and become monstrous,
xni.
The high wood of the hill behind the garden is full
of bird life. There dwell wild uguisu, owls, wild
doves, too many crows, and a queer bird that makes
weird noises at night, — long deep sounds of hoo, hoo.
It is called awamakidori or the " millet-sowing bird,"
because when the farmers hear its cry, they know
that it is time to plant the millet. It is quite small
and brown, extremely shy, and, so far as I can learn,
altogether nocturnal in its habits.
But rarely, very rarely, a far stranger cry is heard
in those trees at night, a voice as of one crying in
pain the syllables " ho-to-to-gi-su." The cry and the
name of that which utters it are one and the same,
hototogisu. It is a bird of which weird things are told ; for they
say it is not really a creature of this living world, but
a night wanderer from the Land of Darkness. In the
Meido its dwelling is among those sunless mountains
of Shide over which all souls must pass to reach the
place of judgment. Once in each year it comes ; the
time of its coming is the end of the fifth month, by
the antique counting of moons ; and the peasants,
hearing its voice, say one to the other, " Now must

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 377
we sow the rice ; for the Shide-no-taosa is with us."
The word taosa signifies the head man of a mura, or
village, as villages were governed in the old days;
but why the hototogisu is called the taosa of Shide I
do not know. Perhaps it is deemed to be a soul from
some shadowy hamlet of the Shide hills, whereat the
ghosts are wont to rest on their weary way to the
realm of Emma, the King of Death.
Its cry has been interpreted in various ways. Some
declare that the hototogisu does not really repeat its
own name, but asks, '¦'¦ Honzon kaketaka?" (Has
the honzon ^ been suspended ?) Others, resting their
interpretation upon the wisdom of the Chinese, aver
that the bird's speech signifies, " Surely it is better
to return home." This, at least, is true : that all
who journey far from their native place, and hear the
voice of the hototogisu in other distant provinces,
are seized with the sickness of longing for home.
Only at night, the people say, is its voice heard,
and most often upon the nights of great moons ; and
it chants while hovering high out of sight, wherefore
a poet has sung of it thus : —
Hito koe wa.
Tsuki ga naitaka
Hototogisu ! *
And another has written : —

Nakitsuru kata tm
1 By honzon is here meant the sacred kakemono, or picture, ex
posed to pnljlic view in the temples only upon the birthday of the
Buddha, which is the eighth day of the old fourth month. Hottmn
also signifles the principal image in a Buddhist temple.
^ " A solitary voice !
Did the Moon cry ?
'T was but the hototogisu."

878 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Nagamureba, —
Tada ariake no
Tsuki zo nokoreru.^
The dweller in cities may pass a lifetime without
hearing the hototogisu. Caged, the little creature
will remain silent and die. Poets often wait vainly
in the dew, from sunset till dawn, to hear the strange
cry which has inspired so many exquisite verses.
But those who have heard found it so mournful that
they have likened it to the cry of one wounded sud
denly to death. Hototogisn Chi ni naku koe wa
Ariake no
Tsuki yori hokani
Kiku hito mo nashi.^
Concerning Izumo owls, I shall content myself with
citing a composition by one of my Japanese stu
dents : —
" The Owl is a hateful bird that sees in the dark.
Little children who cry are frightened by the threat
that the Owl will come to take them away ; for the
Owl cries, ' Eo ! ho ! sorotto koka ! sorotto koka ! '
which means, ' Thou ! must I enter slowly ? ' It also
cries ' Noritsuke hose ! ho ! ho ! ' which means, ' Do
thou make the starch to use in washing to-morrow ! '
And when the women hear that cry, they know that
to-morrow will be a fine day. It also cries, ' Tototo,^
' The man dies,' and ' Kotokokko,^ ' The boy dies.'
So people hate it. And crows hate it so much that it
is used to catch crows. The Farmer puts an Owl in
the rice-field ; and all the crows come to kill it, and
1 " When I gaze towards the place where I heard the hototogisu cry,
lo ! there is naught save the wan morning moon."
2 " Save only the morning moon, none heard the heart's-blood crj
•i the hototogisru"

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 379
they get caught fast in the snares. This should teach
us not to give way to our dislikes for other people."
The kites which hover over the city all day do not
live in the neighborhood. Their nests are far away
upon the blue peaks ; but they pass much of their
time in catching fish, and in stealing from back yards.
They pay the wood and the garden swift and sudden
piratical visits ; and their sinister cr}' — pi-yoroyoro,
fi-yoroyoro — sounds at intervals over the town from
dawn till sundown. Most insolent of all feathered crea
tures they certainly are, — more insolent than even
their fellow-robbers, the crows. A kite will drop five
miles to filch a tai out of a fish-seller's bucket, or a
fried-cake out of a child's hand, and shoot back to
the clouds before the victim of the theft has time to
stoop for a stone. Hence the saying, " to look as
surprised as if one's aburag^ ^ had been snatched from
one's hand by a kite." There is, moreover, no telling
what a kite may think proper to steal. For exam
ple, my neighbor's servant-girl went to the river the
other day, wearing in her hair a string of small scar
let beads made of rice-grains prepared and dyed in a
certain ingenious way. A kite lighted upon her
head, and tore away and swallowed the string of beads.
But it is great fun to feed these birds with dead rats
or mice which have been caught in traps over night
and subsequently drowned. The instant a dead rat is
exposed to view a kite pounces from the sky to bear
it away. Sometimes a crow may get the start of the
kite, but the crow must be able to get to the woods
very swiftly indeed in order to keep his prize. The
children sing this song : —
1 A sort of doughnut made of bean flour, or tofu.

880 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Tobi, tobi, maute mise t
Ashita no ba ni
Karasu ni kakushite
Nezumi yaru.^
The mention of dancing refers to the beautiful
balancing motion of the kite's wings in flight. By
suggestion this motion is poetically compared to the
graceful swaying of a maiko, or dancing-girl, extend
ing her arms and waving the long wide sleeves of her
silken robe.
Although there is a numerous sub-colony of crows
in the wood behind my house, the headquarters of the
corvine army are in the pine grove of the ancient
castle grounds, visible from my front rooms. To see
the crows all flying home at the same hour every
evening is an interesting spectacle, and popular im
agination has found an amusing comparison for it in
the hurry-skurry of people running to a flre, Thia
explains the meaning of a song which children sing
to the crows returning to their nests : —
Ato no karasu saki ine.
Ware ga iye ga yakeru Icen,
Hayo inde midzu kake,
Midzu ga nakya yarozo,
Amatlara ko ni yare,
Ko ga nakya modose.^
Confucianism seems to have discovered virtue ia
the crow. There is a Japanese proverb, " Karasu
ni hampo no ko ari," meaning that the crow performs
the filial duty of hampo, or, more literally, " the filial
1 " Kite, kite, let me see you dance, and to-morrow evening, when
the crows do not know, I will give you a rat."
2 " O tardy crow, hasten forward ! Your house is all on fire. Hurry
to throw water upon it. If there be no water, I will give you. If you
have too much, give it to your child. If you have no child, tben giva
it back to me."

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 381
duty of hampo exists in the crow." " Hampo "
means, literally, " to return a feeding." The young
crow is said to requite its parents' care by feeding
them when it becomes strong. Another example of
filial piety has been furnished by the dove. " Hato
ni sanshi no rei ari," — the dove sits three branches
below its parent ; or, more literally, " has the three-
branch etiquette to perform."
The cry of the wild dove (^yamabato), which I hear
almost daily from the wood, is the most sweetly plain
tive sound that ever reached my ears. The Izumo
peasantry say that the bird utters these words, which
it certainly seems to do if one listen to it after having
learned the alleged syllables : —
T^ poppo,
Kaka poppo,
Tet€ poppo,
Kaka poppo,
T&.€ . . . (sudden pause).
" T^te " is the baby word for » father," and
"kaka" for "mother;" and "poppo" signifies, in
infantile speech, " the bosom." ^
Wild uguisu also frequently sweeten my summer
with their song, and sometimes come very near the
house, being attracted, apparently, by the chant of
my caged pet. The uguisu is very common in this
province. It haunts aU the woods and the sacred
groves in the neighborhood of the city, and I never
1 The words papa and mamma exist in Japanese baby language,
but their meaning is not at all what might be supposed. Mamma, or,
with the usual honorific, 0-mamma, means " boUed rice." Papa means
" tobacco."

382 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
made a journey in Izumo during the warm season
without hearing its note from some shadowy place.
But there are uguisu and uguisu. There are uguisu
to be had for one or two yen, but the finely trained,
cage-bred singer may command not less than a hun«
dred. It was at a little village temple that I first heard
one curious belief about this delicate creature. In
Japan, the coffin in which a corpse is borne to burial
is totally unlike an Occidental coffin. It is a surpris
ingly small square box, wherein the dead is placed
in a sitting posture. How any adult corpse can be
put into so small a space may well be an enigma to
foreigners. In cases of pronounced rigor mortis the
work of getting the body into the coffin is difficult
even for the professional doshin-bozu. But the de
vout followers of Nichiren claim that after death
their bodies will remain perfectly flexible ; and the
dead body of an uguisu, they affirm, likewise never
stiffens, for this little bird is of their faith, and passes
its life in singing praises unto the Sutra of the Lotus
of the Good Law. XIV.
I have already become a little too fond of my
dwelling-place. Each day, after returning from my
college duties, and exchanging my teacher's uniform
for the infinitely more comfortable Japanese robe,
I find more than compensation for the weariness of
five class-hours in the simple pleasure of squatting on
the shaded veranda overlooking the gardens. Those
antique garden walls, high-mossed below their ruined
coping of tiles, seem to shut out even the murmur of
the city's life. There are no sounds but the voices
!of birds, the shrilling of semi, or, at long, lazy inter-

IN A JAPANESE GARDEN. 383
vals, the solitary plash of a diving frog. Nay, those
walls seclude me from much more than city streets
Outside them hums the changed Japan of telegraphs
and newspapers and steamships ; within dwell the
all-reposing peace of nature and the dreams of the
sixteenth century. There is a charm of quaintness
in the very air, a faint sense of something viewless
and sweet all about one ; perhaps the gentle haunt
ing of dead ladies who looked like the ladies of the
old picture-books, and who lived here when all this
was new. Even in the summer light — touching
the gray strange shapes of stone, thrilling through
the foliage of the long-loved trees — there is the
tenderness of a phantom caress. These are the gar
dens of the past. The future will know them only
as dreams, creations of a forgotten art, whose charm
no genius may reproduce.
Of the human tenants here no creature seems to be
af faid. The little frogs resting upon the lotus-leaves
scarcely shrink from my touch ; the lizards sun them
selves withiii easy reach of my hand ; the water-
snakes glide across my shadow without fear ; bands
of semi establish their deafening orchestra on a plum
branch just above my head, and a praying mantis
insolently poses on my knee. Swallows and spar
rows not only build their nests on my roof, but even
enter my rooms without concern, — one swallow has
actually built its nest in the ceiling of the bath-room,
— and the weasel purloins fish under my very eyes
without any scruples of conscience. A wild uguisu
perches on a cedar by the window, and in a burst of
savage sweetness challenges my caged pet to a contest
in song ; and always through the golden air, from
the green twilight of the .mountain pines, there purla

884 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
to me tbe plaintive, caressing, delicious call of the
yamabato : — T^t^ poppo,
Kaka poppo,
T£t€ poppo,
Kaka poppo,
T&€ . . .
No European dove has such a cry. He who can hear,
for the first time, the voice of the yamabato with
out feeling a new sensation at his heart little de«
serves to dwell in this happy world.
Yet all this — the old katchiii-yashiki and its gar«
dens — will doubtless have vanished forever before
many years. Already a multitude of gardens, more
spacious and more beautiful than mine, have been
converted into rice-fields or bamboo groves ; and the
quaint Izumo city, touched at last by some long-pro
jected railway line, — perhaps even within the present
decade, — will swell, and change, and grow common
place, and demand these grounds for the building of
factories and mills. Not from here alone, but from
all the land the ancient peace and the ancient charm
seem doomed to pass away. For impermanency is the
nature of things, more particularly in Japan ; and
the changes and the changers shall also be changed
until there is found no place for them, — and regret
is vanity. The dead art that made the beauty of thia
place was the art, also, of that faith to which belonga
the all-consoling text, " Verily, even plants and treeSf
rocks and stones, all shall enter into Nirvana."

xvn
THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE,
I.
In Japan there are two forms of the Religion of
the Dead, — that which belongs to Shinto, and that
which belongs to Buddhism. The first is the primi
tive cult, commonly called ancestor - worship. But
the term ancestor-worship seems to me much too con-
fined for the rehgion which pays reverence not only
to those ancient gods believed to be the fathers of the
Japanese race, but likewise to a host of deified sover
eigns, heroes, princes, and illustrious men. Within
comparatively recent times, the great Daimyo of
Izumo, for example, were apotheosized; and the
peasants of Shimane still pray before the shrines of
the Matsudaira. Moreover Shinto, like the faiths of
Hellas and of Rome, has its deities of the elements
and special deities who preside over all the various
affairs of life. Therefore ancestor-worship, though
still a striking feature of Shinto, does not alone con
stitute the State Religion : neither does the term fully
describe the Shinto cult of the dead, — a cult which
in Izumo retains its primitive character more than in
other parts of Japan.
And here I may presume, though no sinologue, to
say something about that State Religion of Japan, —
that ancient faith of Izumo, — which, although even
more deeply rooted in national life than Buddhism,
is far less known to the Western world. Except in

386 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
special works by such men of erudition as Chamber
lain and Satow, — works with which the Occidental
reader, unless himself a specialist, is not likely to
become familiar outside of Japan, — little has been
written in English about Shinto which gives the least
idea of what Shinto is. Of its ancient traditions and
rites much of rarest interest may be learned from
the works of the philologists just mentioned ; but, as
Mr. Satow himself acknowledges, a definite answer
to the question, " What is the nature of Shinto ? " is
still difficult to give. How define the common ele
ment in the six kinds of Shinto which are known to
exist, and some of which no foreign scholar has yet
been able to examine for lack of time or of authorities
or of opportunity? Even in its modern external
forms, Shinto is sufficiently complex to task the
united powers of the historian, philologist, and an
thropologist, merely to trace out the multitudinous
lines of its evolution, and to determine the sources
of its various elements : primeval polytheisms and
fetiehisms, traditions of dubious origin, philosophical
concepts from China, Korea, and elsewhere, — all
mingled with Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism,
The so-called " Revival of Pure Shinto " — an effort,
aided by Government, to restore the cult to its
archaic simplicity, by divesting it of foreign charac
teristics, and especially of every sign or token of
Buddhist origin — resulted only, so far as the avowed
purpose was concerned, in the destruction of price
less art, and in leaving the enigma of origins as com
plicated as before, Shinto had been too profoundly
modified in the course of fifteen centuries of change
to be thus remodeled by a fiat. For the like reason
scholarly efforts to define its relation to national ethics

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 38T
by mere historical and philological analysis must fail :
as well seek to define the ultimate secret of Life by
the elements of the body which it animates. Yet
when the result of such efforts shall have been closely
combined with a deep knowledge of Japanese thought
and feeling, — the thought and sentiment, not of a
special class, but of the people at large, — then in
deed all that Shinto was and is may be fully compre
hended. And this may be accomplished, I fancy,
through the united labor of European and Japanese
scholars. Yet something of what Shinto signifies, — in the
simple poetry of its beliefs, — in the home-training of
the child, — in the worship of filial piety before the
tablets of the ancestors, — may be learned during a
residence of some years among the people, by one
who lives their life and adopts their manners and
customs. With such experience he can at least claim
the right to express his own conception of Shinto.
n.
Those far-seeing rulers of the Meiji era, who dis
established Buddhism to strengthen Shinto, doubt
less knew they were giving new force not only to a
faith in perfect harmony with their own state policy,
but likewise to one possessing in itself a far more
profound vitality than the alien creed, which although
omnipotent as an art-influence, had never found deep
root in the intellectual soil of Japan. Buddhism
was already in decrepitude, though transplanted from
China scarcely more than thirteen centuries before •,
while Shinto, though doubtless older by many a thou
sand years, seems rather to have gained than to have
lost force through all the periods of change. Eclectic

888 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
like the genius of the race, it had appropriated and
assimilated all forms of foreign thought which could
aid its material manifestation or fortify its ethics.
Buddhism had attempted to absorb its gods, even
as it had adopted previously the ancient deities of
Brahmanism ; but Shinto, while seeming to yield,
was really only borrowing strength from its rival.
And this marvelous vitality of Shinto is due to the
fact that in the course of its long development out
of unrecorded beginnings, it became at a very ancient
epoch, and below the surface still remains, a religion
of the heart. Whatever be the origin of its rites and
traditions, its ethical spirit has become identified
with all the deepest and best emotions of the race.
Hence, in Izumo especially, the attempt to create a
Buddhist-Shintoism resulted only in the formation
of a Shinto-Buddhism.
And the secret living force of Shinto to-day — that
force which repels missionary efforts at proselytizing
— means something much more profound than tradi
tion or worship or ceremonialism. Shinto may yet,
without loss of real power, survive all these. Cer
tainly the expansion of the popular mind through
education, the influences of modern science, must
compel modification or abandonment of many ancient
Shinto conceptions ; but the ethics of Shinto will
surely endure. For Shinto signifies character in the
higher sense, — courage, courtesy, honor, and above
all things, loyalty. The spirit of Shinto is the spirit
of filial piety, the zest of duty, the readiness to sur
render life for a principle without a thought of where
fore. It is the docility of the child; it is the sweet
ness of the Japanese woman. It is conservatism

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 389
likewise ; the wholesome check upon the national
tendency to cast away the worth of the entire past in
rash eagerness to assimilate too much of the foreign
present. It is religion, — but religion transformed
into hereditary moral impulse, — religion transmuted
into ethical instinct. It is the whole emotional life
of the race, — the Soul of Japan.
The child is born Shinto. Home teaching and
school training only give expression to what is innate :
they do not plant new seed ; they do but quicken the
ethical sense transmitted as a trait ancestral. Even
as a Japanese infant inherits such ability to handle a
writing-brush as never can be acquired by Western
fingers, so does it inherit ethical sympathies totally
different from our own. Ask a class of Japanese stu
dents — young students of fourteen to sixteen — to
tell their dearest wishes ; and if they have confidence
in the questioner, perhaps nine out of ten will answer :
" To die for His Majesty Our Emperor." And the
wish soars from the heart pure as any wish for mar
tyrdom ever born. How much this sense of loyalty
may or may not have been weakened in such great
centres as Tokyo by the new agnosticism and by the
rapid growth of other nineteenth century ideas among
the student class, I do not know ; but in the country
it remains as natural to boyhood as joy. Unreasoning
it also is, — unlike those loyal sentiments with us, the
results of maturer knowledge and settled conviction.
Never does the Japanese youth ask himself why?
the beauty of self-sacrifice alone is the all-sufficing mo
tive. Such ecstatic loyalty is a part of the national
life ; it is in the blood, — inherent as the impulse of
the ant to perish for its little republic, — unconscious
as the loyalty of bees to their queen. It is Shinto.

390 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
That readiness to sacrifice one's own life for loy
alty's sake, for the sake of a superior, for the sake of
honor, which has distinguished the race in modern
times, would seem also to have been a national char
acteristic from the earliest period of its independent
existence. Long before the epoch of established
feudalism, when honorable suicide became a matter of
rigid etiquette, not for warriors only, but even for wo
men and little children, the giving one's life for one's
prince, even when the sacrifice could avail nothing,
was held a sacred duty. Among various instances
which might be cited from the ancient Kojiki, the
following is not the least impressive : —
Prince Mayowa, at the age of only seven years, having
killed his father's slayer, fled into the house of the Grandee
(Omi) Tsubura. " Then Prince Oho-hatsuse raised an army,
and besieged that house. And the arrows that were shot
were for multitude like the ears of the reeds. And the
Grandee Tsubura came forth himself, and having taken off
the weapons with which he was girded, did obeisance eight
times, and said: 'The maiden-pi-incess Kara, my daughter
whom thoa deignedst anon to woo, is at thy service. Again
I will present to thee five granaries. Though a vUe slave of
a Grandee exerting his utmost strength in the fight can
scarcely hope to conquer, yet must he die rather than desert
a prince who, trusting in him, has entered into his house.'
Having thus spoken, he again took his weapons, and went
in once more to fight. Then, their strength being exhausted,
and their arrows finished, he said to the Prince : ' My
hands are wounded, and our arrows are finished. We can
not now fight : what shall be done ? ' The Prince replied
saying : ' There is nothing more to do. Do thou now slay
me.' So the Grandee Tsubura thrust the Prince to death
with his sword, and forthwith killed himself by cutting ofi
bis own head."

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 391
Thousands of equally strong examples could easily
be quoted from later Japanese history, including many
which occurred even within the memory of the living.
Nor was it for persons alone that to die might become
a sacred duty : in certain contingencies conscience
held it scarcely less a duty to die for a purely personal
conviction; and he who held any opinion which he
believed of paramount importance would, when other
means failed, write his views in a letter of farewell,
and then take his own life, in order to call attention
to his beliefs and to prove their sincerity. Such an
instance occurred only last year in Toky6,i when the
young lieutenant of militia, Ohara Takeyoshi, killed
kimself by harakiri in the cemetery of Saitokuji,
leaving a letter stating as the reason for his act, his
hope to force public recognition of the danger to
Japanese independence from the growth of Russian
power in the North Pacific, But a much more touch
ing sacrifice, in May of the same year, — a sacrifice
conceived in the purest and most innocent spirit of
loyalty, — was that of the young girl Yoko Hatake-
yama, who, after the attempt to assassinate the Czare
vitch, traveled from Tokyo to Kyoto and there killed
herself before the gate of the Kencho, merely as a
vicarious atonement for the incident which had caused
shame to Japan and grief to the Father of the people,
— His Sacred Majesty the Emperor,
in.
As to its exterior forms, modern Shinto is indeed
difficult to analyze ; but through all the intricate
texture of extraneous beliefs so thickly interwoven
about it, indications of its earliest character are still
1 This was written eariy in 1892.

392 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
easily discerned. In certain of its primitive rites, in
its archaic prayers and texts and symbols, in the his
tory of its shrines, and even in many of the artless
ideas of its poorest worshipers, it is plainly revealed
as the most ancient of all forms of worship, — that
which Herbert Spencer terms "the root of all reli
gions," — devotion to the dead. Indeed, it has been
frequently so expounded by its own greatest scholars
and theologians. Its divinities are ghosts; all the
dead become deities. In the Tama-no-mihashira
the great commentator Hirata says " the spirits of
the dead continue to exist in the unseen world which
is everywhere about us, and they all become gods of
varying character and degrees of influence. Some
reside in temples built in their honor; others hover
near their tombs ; and they continue to render ser
vices to their prince, parents, wife, and children, as
when in the body." ^ And they do more than this,
for they control the lives and the doings of men.
" Every human action," says Hirata, " is the work of
a god." 2 And Motowori, scarcely less famous an
exponent of pure Shinto doctrine, writes : " All the
moral ideas which a man requires are implanted in
his bosom by the gods, and are of the same nature
with those instincts which impel him to eat when he
is hungry or to drink when he is thirsty." ^ With
this doctrine of Intuition no decalogue is required,
no fixed code of ethics ; and the human conscience
is declared to be the only necessary guide. Though
1 Quoted from Mr. Satow's masterly essay, " The Revival of Pure
Shinto," published in the Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan.
By " gods " are not necessarily meant beneficent Kami. Shinto has
no devils ; but it has its "bad gods" as well as good deities.
2 Satow, " The Revival of- Pure Shinto."
8 Ibid.

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 393
every action be " the work of a Kami," yet each
nan has within him the power to discern the right
eous impulse from the unrighteous, the influence of
the good deity from that of the evil. No moral
teacher is so infallible as one's own heart. " To
have learned that there is no way (michi')," ^ says
Motowori, " to be learned and practiced, is really
to have learned the Way of the Gods." ^ And Hi
rata writes : " If you desire to practice true virtue,
learn to stand in awe of the Unseen ; and that will
prevent you from doing wrong. Make a vow to the
Gods who rule over the Unseen, and cultivate the
conscience (ma-gokoro') implanted in you ; and then
you will never wander from the way." How thia
spiritual self-culture may best be obtained, the same
great expounder has stated with almost equal brev
ity : " Devotion to the memory of ancestors is the
mainspring of all virtues. No one who discharges his
duty to them will ever be disrespectful to the Gods
or to his living parents. Such a man will be faithful
to his prince, loyal to his friends, and kind and gentle
with his wife and children." ^
How far are these antique beliefs removed from
the ideas of the nineteenth century ? Certainly not
so far that we can afford to smile at them. The faith
of the primitive man and the knowledge of the most
profound psychologist may meet in strange harmony
1 In the sense of Moral Path, — i. e. an ethical system.
2 Satow, " The Revival of Pure Shinto." The whole force of Mo
toworl's words will not be fully understood unless the reader knows
that the term " Shinto " is of comparatively modern origin in Japan,
— having been borrowed from the Chinese to distinguish the ancient
faith from Buddhism ; and that the old name for the primitive
religion is Kami-no-michi, " the Way of the Gods."
s Satow, " The Revival of Pure Shinto."

394 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
upon the threshold of the same ultimate truth, and
the thought of a child may repeat the conclusions of
a Spencer or a Schopenhauer. Are not our ancestors
in very truth our Kami? Is not every action indeed
the work of the Dead who dwell within us ? Have
not our impulses and tendencies, our capacities and
weaknesses, our heroisms and timidities, been created
by those vanished myriads from whom we received
the all-mysterious bequest of Life? Do we still
think of that infinitely complex Something which ia
each one of us, and which we call EGO, as " I " or
as "They"? What is our pride or shame but the
pride or shame of the Unseen iu that which They
have made ? — and what our Conscience but the in
herited sum of countless dead experiences with vary
ing good and evil? Nor can we hastily reject the
Shinto thought that all the dead become gods, while
we respect the convictions of those strong souls of
to-day who proclaim the divinity of man.
rv.
Shinto ancestor-worship, no doubt, like all ancestor-
worship, was developed out of funeral rites, according
to that general law of religious evolution traced so
fully by Herbert Spencer. And there is reason to
believe that the early forms of Shinto public worship
may have been evolved out of a yet older family
worship, — much after the manner in which M.
Fustel de Coulanges, in his wonderful book, "La Cit^
Antique," has shown the religious public institutions
among the Greeks and Romans to have been devel
oped from the religion of the hearth. Indeed, the
word ujigami, now used to signify a Shinto parish
temple, and also its deity, means ^'family God," and

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 395
in its present form is a corruption or contraction
of uchi-no-Kami, meaning the " god of the interior "
or "the god of the house." Shinto expounders have,
it is true, attempted to interpret the term otherwise ;
and Hirata, as quoted by Mr, Ernest Satow, declared
the name should be applied only to the common an
cestor, or ancestors, or to one so entitled to the grati
tude of a community as to merit equal honors. Such,
undoubtedly, was the just use of the term in hia
time, and long before it; but the etymology of the
word would certainly seem to indicate its origin in
family worship, and to confirm modern scientific be
liefs in regard to the evolution of religious institu
tions. Now just as among the Greeks and Latins the
family cult always continued to exist through all the
development and expansion of the public religion,
BO the Shinto family worship has continued concomi-
tantly with the communal worship at the countless
ujigami, with popular worship at the famed Oho-ya-
shiro of various provinces or districts, and with
national worship at the great shrines of Ise and Ki-
tzuki. Many objects connected with the family cult
are certainly of alien or modern origin ; but its simple
rites and its unconscious poetry retain their archaic
charm. And, to the student of Japanese life, by far
the most interesting aspect of Shinto is offered in
this home worship, which, like the home worship ol
the antique Occident, exists in a dual form.

396 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.

V,
In nearly all Izumo dwellings there is a kamidana,^
or " Shelf of the Gods." On this is usually placed a
small Shinto shrine (miya) containing tablets bear
ing the names of gods (one at least of which tab
lets is furnished by the neighboring Shinto parish
temple), and various ofuda, holy texts or charms,
which most often are written promises in the name
of some Kami to protect his worshiper. If there be
no miya, the tablets or ofuda are simply placed upon
the shelf in a certain order, the most sacred having
the middle place. Very rarely are images to be seen
upon a kamidana : for primitive Shintoism excluded
images rigidly as Jewish or Mohammedan law; and
all Shinto iconography belongs to a comparatively
modern era, — especially to the period of Ryobu-
Shinto, — and must be considered of Buddhist origin.
If there be any images, they will probably be such
as have been made only within recent years at Ki-
tzuki : those small twin figures of Oho-kuni-nushi-no-
Kami and of Koto-shiro-nushi-no-Kami, described
in a former paper upon the Kitzuki-no-oho-yashiro.
Shinto kakemono, which are also of latter-day origin,
representing incidents from the Kojiki, are much
more common than Shinto icons : these usually oc
cupy the toko, or alcove, in the same room in which
the kamidana is placed ; but they will not be seen in
the houses of the more cultivated classes. Ordina
rily there will be found upon the kamidana nothing
1 From Kami, " the [Powers] Above," or the Gods, and tana, " a
shelf." The initial " t " of the latter word changes into " d " in the
compound, — just as that of tokkuri, "a jar " or " bottle," becomes doh-
Jcuri in the compound o-mikidokkuri.

"^5 k[r'^s~^%o~^^r^s~^ir

V5W

1. Sacred fire-drill of the Great Temple of Kitzukl
2. O-uiKiDOKKUBi, or vessel used to contain the sakd offered to the Gods
3. Kucm-sASHi, or stopper, of the o-mikidokkuri. (There are other symbolic forms', this is probably the oldest
as well as the most common)
4. SaubS, or little stand upon which offerings to the Shinto Gods are placed. The sambo is also used in family
worship, and in certain household ceremonies
SACRED OBJECTS (SHINTO)

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 397
but the simple miya containing some ofuda: very,
very seldom will a mirror^ be seen, or gohei, — ex
cept the gohei attached to the small shimenawa
either hung just above the kamidana or suspended
to the box-like frame in which the miya sometimes
is placed. The shimenawa and the paper gohei are
the true emblems of Shinto: even the ofuda and
the mamori are quite modern. Not only before the >,
household shrine, but also above the house-door of)
almost every home in Izumo, the shimenawa ia sus- ,
pended. It is ordinarily a thin rope of rice straw; ;
but before the dwellings of high Shinto officials, such
as the Taisha-Guji of Kitzuki, its size and weight
are enormous. One of the first curious facts that the
traveler in Izumo cannot fail to be impressed by ia
the universal presence of this symbolic rope of straw,
which may sometimes even be seen round a rice-field.
But the grand displays of the sacred symbol are
upon the great festivals of the new year, the acces
sion of Jimmu Tenno to the throne of Japan, and
the Emperor's birthday. Then all the miles of
streets are festooned with shimenawa thick as ship-
cables, VI.
A particular feature of Matsue are the miya-shops,
— establishments not, indeed, peculiar to the old
Izumo town, but much more interesting than those
1 The mirror, as an emblem of female divinities, is kept in tbe
secret innermost shrine of various Shintd temples. But the mirror of
metal commonly placed before the public gaze in a Shinto shrine is
not really of Shinto origin, but was introduced into Japan as a Bud
dhist symbol of the Shingon sect. As ths mirror is the symbol in Shinto
of female divinities, the sword is the emblem of male deities. Tbe real
symbols of the god or goddess are not, however, exposed to human
gaze under any circumstances.

398 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
to be found in larger cities of other provinces. There
are miya of a hundred varieties and sizes, from the
child's toy miya which sells for less than one sen, to
the large shrine destined for some rich home, and
costing perhaps ten yen or more. Besides these, the
household shrines of Shinto, may occasionally be seen
massive shrines of precious wood, lacquered and
gilded, worth from three hundred even to fifteen
hundred yen. These are not household shrines ; but
festival shrines, and are made only for rich mer
chants. They are displayed on Shinto holidays, and
twice a year are borne through the streets in proces
sion, to shouts of " Ohosaya! chosaya!"'^ Each tem
ple parish also possesses a large portable miya which
is paraded on these occasions with much chanting
and beating of drums. The majority of household
miya are cheap constructions. A very fine one can
be purchased for abont two yen; but those little
shrines one sees in the houses of the common people
cost, as a rule, considerably less than half a yen.
And elaborate or costly household shrines are con
trary to the spirit of pure Shinto, The true miya
should be made of spotless white hin oki ^ wood, and
be put together without nails. Most of those I have
1 Anciently the two great Shinto festivals on which the miya were
thus carried in procession were the Toshigami-no-matsuri, or festival
of the God of the New Year, and the anniversary of Jimmu Tenno
to the throne. The second of these is still observed. The celebration
of the Emperor's birthday is the only other occasion wheu the miya
are paraded. On both days the streets are beautifully decorated with
lanterns and shimenawa, the fringed ropes of rice straw which are
the emblems of Shinto. Nobody now knows exactly what the words
chanted on these days (chosaya! chosaya!) mean. One theory ia
that they are a corruption of Sagicho, the name of a great samurai
military festival, which was celebrated nearly at the same time as the
Yoshigami-no-matsuri, — both holidays now being obsolete.
2 Thuya obtusa.

Srzu ; Instrument used by
the &.iinto priestess in
her sacred dance

Mita, or Shinto household
Bhrine of the cheapest
form

Mita, or household shrine of
a wealthy f amilT

SACRED OBJECTS (SHINTO)

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 399
seen in the shops had their several parts joined
only with rice-paste ; but the skill of the maker ren
dered thia sufficient. Pure Shinto requires that a
miya should be without gilding or ornamentation.
The beautiful miniature temples in some rich homes
may justly excite admiration by their artistic struc<!
ture and decoration; but the ten or thirteen cent
miya, in the house of a laborer or a kurumaya, of
plain white wood, truly represents that spirit of sim
plicity characterizing the primitive religion.
vn.
The kamidana or "God-shelf," upon which are
placed the miya and other sacred objects of Shinto
worship, is usually fastened at a height of about six
or seven feet above the floor. As a rule it should
not be placed higher than the hand can reach with
ease ; but in houses having lofty rooms the miya is
sometimes put up at such a height that the sacred
offerings cannot be made without the aid of a box or
other object to stand upon. It is not commonly a
part of the house structure, but a plain shelf at
tached with brackets either to the wall itself, at some
angle of the apartment, or, as is much more usual, to
the kamoi, or horizontal grooved beam, in which the
screens of opaque paper (^fusuma), which divide
room from room, slide to and fro. Occasionally it is
painted or lacquered. But the ordinary kamidana is
of white wood, and ia made larger or smaller in pro
portion to the size of the miya, or the number of the
ofuda and other sacred objects to the placed upon it.
In some houses, notably those of innkeepers and
email merchants, the kamidana is made long enough
to support a number of small shrines dedicated to

400 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
different Shinto deities, particularly those believed
to preside over wealth and commercial prosperity.
In the houses of the poor it is nearly always placed
in the room facing the street ; and Matsue shop
keepers usually erect it in their shops, — so that the
passer-by or the customer can tell at a glance in what
deities the occupant puts his trust. There are many
regulations concerning it. It may be placed to face
south or east, but should not face west, and under no
possible circumstances should it be suffered to face
north or northwest. One explanation of this is the
influence upon Shinto of Chinese philosophy, accord
ing to which there is some fancied relation between
South or East and the Male Principle, and between
West or North and the Female Principle, But the
popular notion on the subject is that because a dead
person is buried with the head turned north, it would
be very wrong to place a miya so as to face north, —
since everything relating to death is impure ; and the
regulation about the west is not strictly observed.
Most kamidana in Izumo, however, face south or
east. In the houses of the poorest — often consisting
of but one apartment — there can be little choice as
to rooms ; but it is a rule, observed in the dwellings
of the middle classes, that the kamidana must not be
placed either in the guest room (^zashiki) nor in the
kitchen ; and in shizoku houses its place is usually in
one of the smaller family apartments. Respect must
be shown it. One must not sleep, for example, or
even lie down to rest, with his feet turned towards
it. One must not pray before it, or even stand be
fore it, while in a state of religious impurity, — such
as that entailed by having touched a corpse, or at
tended a Buddhist funeral, or even during the period

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 401
of mourning for kindred buried according to the
Buddhist rite. Should any member of the family be
thus buried, then during fifty days ^ the kamidana
must be entirely screened from view with pure white
paper, and even the Shinto ofuda, or pious invoca
tions fastened upon the house-door, must have white
paper pasted over them. During the same mourning
period the fire in the house is considered unclean ;
and at the close of the term all the ashes of the bra
ziers and of the kitchen must be cast away, and new
fire kindled with a flint and steel. Nor are funerals
the only source of legal uncleanliness. Shinto, as the
religion of purity and purification, has a Deuteron
omy of quite an extensive kind. During certain
periods women must not even pray before the miya,
much less make offerings or touch the sacred vessels,
or kindle the lights of the Kami.
Vin.
Before the miya, or whatever holy object of Shinto
worship be placed upon the kamidana, are set two
quaintly shaped jars for the offerings of sak6 ; two
small vases, to contain sprays of the sacred plant
sakaki, or offerings of flowers ; and a small lamp,
shaped like a tiny saucer, where a wick of rush-pith
floats in rapeseed oil. Strictly speaking, all these
utensils except the flower-vases should be made of un-
glazed red earthenware, such as we find described
in the early chapters of the Kojiki : and still at
Shinto festivals in Izumo, when sak6 is drunk in
1 Such at least is the mourning period under such circumstances in
certain samurai families. Others say twenty days is sufficient. The
Buddhist code of mourning is extremely varied and complicated, and
would require much space to dilate upon.

402 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
honor of the gods, it is drunk out of cups of red
baked unglazed clay shaped like shallow round dishes.
But of late years it has become the fashion to make
all the utensils of a fine kamidana of brass or bronze,
— even the hanaik^, or flower-vases. Among the
poor, the most archaic utensils are still used to a>
great extent, especially in the remoter country dis
tricts ; the lamp being a simple saucer or kawarak^
of red clay ; and the flower-vases most often bamboo
cups, made by simply cutting a section of bamboo
immediately below a joint and about five inches
above it.
The brazen lamp is a much more complicated object
than the kawarak^, which costs but one rin. The
brass lamp costs about twenty-five sen, at least. It
consists of two parts. The lower part, shaped like
a very shallow, broad wineglass, with a very thick
stem, has an interior as well as an exterior rim; and
the bottom of a correspondingly broad and shallow
brass cup, which is the upper part and contains the
oil, fits exactly into this inner rim. This kind of
lamp is always furnished with a small brass object in
the shape of a flat ring, with a stem set at right
angles to the surface of the ring. It is used for mov
ing the floating wick and keeping it at any position
required; and the little perpendicular stem is long
enough to prevent the fingers from touching the oil.
The most curious objects to be seen on any ordi
nary kamidana are the stoppers of the sake-vessels or
o-mikidokkuri (" honorable sakd-jars "). These stop-
pers — o-mikidokkuri-no-kuchisashi — may be made
of brass, or of fine thin slips of wood jointed and bent
into the singular form required. Properly speaking,
the thing is not a real stopper, in spite of its name;

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 403
its lower part does not fill the mouth of the jar at
all : it simply hangs in the orifice like a leaf put
there stem downwards. I find it difficult to learn its
history ; but, though there are many designs of it, —
the finer ones being of brass, — the shape of all
seems to hint at a Buddhist origin. Possibly the
shape was borrowed from a Buddhist symbol, — the
Hoshi-no-tama, that mystic gem whose lambent glow
(iconographically suggested as a playing of flame) is
the emblem of Pure Essence; and thus the object
would be typical at once of the purity of the wine-
offering and the purity of the heart of the giver.
The little lamp may not be lighted every evening
in aU homes, since there are families too poor to af
ford even this infinitesimal nightly expenditure of oil.
But upon the first, fifteenth, and twenty-eighth of each
mouth the light is always kindled ; for these are
Shinto hohdays of obligation, when offerings must be
made to the gods, and when all uji-ko, or parishioners
of a Shinto temple, are supposed to visit their uji
gami. In every home on these days sak6 is poured
as an offering into the o-mikidokkuri, and in the
vases of the kamidana are placed sprays of the holy
sakaki, or sprigs of pine, or fresh flowers. On the
first day of the new year the kamidana is always
decked with sakaki, moromoki (ferns), and pine-
sprigs, and also with a shimenawa ; and large double
rice cakes are placed upon it as offerings to the gods.
IX.
But only the ancient gods of Shinto are worshiped
before the kamidana. The family ancestors or fam
ily dead are worshiped either in a separate room
(called the mitamaya, or "Spirit Chamber "), or, if

404 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
worshiped according to the Buddhist rites, before
the butsuma or butsudan.
The Buddhist family worship coexists in the vast
majority of Izumo homes with the Shinto family
worship; and whether the dead be honored in the
mitamaya or before the butsudan altogether depends
upon the religious traditions of the household. More
over, there are families in Izumo — particularly in
Kitzuki — whose members do not profess Buddhism
in any form, and a very few, belonging to the Shin-
shii or Nichiren-shii,^ whose members do not practice
Shinto. But the domestic cult of the dead is main
tained, whether the family be Shinto or Buddhist,
The ihai or tablets of the Buddhist family dead (Ho-
toke) are never placed in a special room or shrine,
but in the Buddhist household shrine^ along with
1 In spite of the supposed rigidity of the Nichiren sect in such mat
ters, most followers of its doctrine in Izumo are equally fervent Shin
toists. I have not been able to observe whether the same is true
of Izumo Shin-shu families as a rule ; but I know that some Shin-shii
believers in Matsue worship at Shinto shrines. Adoring only that
form of Buddha called Amida, the Shin sect might be termed a Bud
dhist " Unitarianism." It seeras never to have been able to secure a
strong footing in Izumo on account of its doctrinal hostility to Shinto.
Elsewhere throughout Japan it is the most vigorous and prosperous of
all Baddhist sects.
^ Mr. Morse, in his Japanese Homes, published on hearsay a very
strange error when he stated : " The Buddhist household shrines
rest on the floor — at least so I was informed." They never rest on the
floor under any circumstances. In the better class of houses special
architectural arrangements are made for the butsudan ; an alcove, re
cess, or other contrivance, often so arranged as to be concealed from
view by a sliding panel or a little door. In smaller dwellings it may
be put on a shelf, for want of a better place, and in the homes of tha
poor, on the top of the tansu, or clothes-chest. It is never placed
so high as the kamidana, but seldom at a less height than three feet
above the floor. In Mr. Morse's own illustration of a Buddhist house
hold shrine (p. 226) it does not rest on the floor at all, but on the
upper shelf of a cupboard, which must not be confounded with the bu>

BuTsuDAiT (Zen-shu), showing the
family ihai grouped within

ShSeySbune : Little straw ship of the
dead. (Izumo coast)

SACRED OBJECTS (BUDDHIST?

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 405
the images or pictures of Buddhist divinities usually
there inclosed, — or, at least, this is always the case
when the honors paid them are given according to
the Buddhist instead of the Shinto rite. The form
of the butsudan or butsuma, the character of its holy
images, its ofuda, or its pictures, and even the prayers
said before it, differ according to the fifteen differ
ent shii, or sects ; and a very large volume would
have to be written in order to treat the subject of the
butsuma exhaustively. Therefore I must content
myself with stating that there are Buddhist house
hold shrines of all dimensions, prices, and degrees of
magnificence ; and that the butsudan of the Shin-shii,
although to me the least interesting of all, is popu
larly considered to be the most beautiful in design
and finish. The butsudan of a very poor household
may be worth a few cents, but the rich devotee
might purchase in Kyoto a shrine worth as many
thousands of yen as he could pay.
Though the forms of the butsuma and the charac
ter of its contents may greatly vary, the form of the
ancestral or mortuary tablet is generally that repre
sented in Fig. 4 of the illustrations of ihai given in
this book.i There are some much more elaborate
tsudan — a very small one. The sketch in question seems to have been
made during the Festival of the Dead, for the offerings in the picture
are those of the Bommatsuri. At that time the household butsudan
is always exposed to view, and often moved from its usual place iu
order to obtain room for the offerings to be set before it. To place
any holy object on the floor is considered by the Japanese very dis
respectful. As for Shinto objects, to place even a mamori on the
floor is deemed a sin.
1 Two ihai are always made for each Buddhist dead. One usually
larger than that placed in the family shrine, is kept in the temple of
which the deceased was a parishioner, together with a cup in which
tea or water is daily poured out aa au offering. In almost any large

406 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
shapes, costly and rare, and simpler shapes of the
cheapest and plainest description; but the form thus
illustrated is the common one in Izumo and the
whole San-indo country. There are differences,
however, of size ; and the ihai of a man is larger
than that of a woman, and has a headpiece also,
which the tablet of a female has not ; while a child's
ihai is always very small. The average height of the
ihai made for a male adult is a little more than
a foot, and its thickness about an inch. It has a
top, or headpiece, surmounted by the symbol of the
Hoshi-no-tama or Mystic Gem, and ordinarily dec
orated with a cloud -design of some kind, and the
pedestal is a lotus-flower rising out of clouds. As a
general rule all this is richly lacquered and gilded ;
the tablet itself being lacquered in black, and bearing
the posthumous name, or kaimyo, in letters of gold, —
ken-mu-ji-sho-shin-ji, or other syllables indicating the
supposed virtues of the departed. The poorest peo
ple, unable to afford such handsome tablets, have
ihai made of plain wood; and the kaimyo is some
times simply written on these in black characters;
but more commonly it is written upon a strip of white
paper, which is then pasted upon the ihai with rice-
paste. The living name is perhaps inscribed upon
the back of the tablet. Such tablets accumulate, of
course, with the passing of generations ; and in cer
tain homes great numbers are preserved.
A beautiful and touching custom still exists in
Izumo, and perhaps throughout Japan, although
temple, thousands of such ihai may be seen, arranged in rows, tier
above tier, — each with its cup before it, — for even the souls of the
dead are supposed to drink tea. Sometimes, I fear, the offering is
forgotten, for I have seen rows of cups containing only dust, tha
fault, perhaps, of some lazy acolyte.

c?^^^

Ihai of a Samurai
lady

SHINTO IHAI. CIZUMO)

Ihai <ii a child —
a little boy

Ordinary form of
a man's ihai

BUDDHIST IHAI. (ZEN-SHO)

Elaborately ornamented
ihai ol a Samurai
official

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 407
much less common than it used to be. So far as I
can learn, however, it was always confined to the cul
tivated classes. When a husband dies, two ihai are
made, in case the wife resolves never to marry again.
On one of these the kaimyo of the dead man ia
painted in charactera of gold, and on the other that
of the living widow; but, in the latter case, the
first character of the kaimyo is painted in red, and
the other characters in gold. These two tablets are
then placed in the household butsuma. Two larger
ones, similarly inscribed, are placed in the parish
temple ; but no cup is set before that of the wife.
The solitary crimson ideograph signifies a solemn
pledge to remain faithful to the memory of the dead.
Furthermore, the wife loses her living name among
all her friends and relatives, and is thereafter ad
dressed only by a fragment of her kaimyo, — as, for
example, " Shin-toku-in-San," an abbreviation of the
much longer and more sonorous posthumous name,
Shin-tokurin-den-joyo-teiso-daishi.^ Thus to be called
by one's kaimyo is at once an honor to the memory
of the husband and the constancy of the bereaved
wife, A precisely similar pledge is taken by a man
after the loss of a wife to whom he was passionately
attached ; and one crimson letter upon his ihai regis
ters the vow not only in the home but also in the
place of public worship. But the widower is never
called by his kaimyo, as is the widow.
The first religious duty of the moming in a Bud
dhist household is to set before the tablets of the
1 This is a fine example of a samurai kaimyo. The kaimyo of
kwazoku or samurai are different from those of humbler dead ; and
a Japanese, by a single glance at an ihai, can tell at once to what clasi
of society the deceased belonged, by the Buddhist words used.
VOI-. II.

408 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN,
dead a httle cup of tea, made with the first hot water
prepared, — 0-Hotoke-San-ni-o-cha-to-ageru.^ Daily
offerings of boiled rice are also made; and fresh
flowers are put in the shrine vases; and incense — ¦
although not allowed by Shinto — is burned before
the tablets. At night, and also during the day upon
certain festivals, both candles and a small oil-lamp
are lighted in the butsuma, — a lamp somewhat dif
ferently shaped from the lamp of the miya and called
rinto. On the day of each month corresponding to
the date of death a little repast is served before the
tablets, consisting of shojin-ryori only, the vegeta
rian food of the Buddhists. But as Shinto family
worship has its special annual festival, which en
dures from the first to the third day of the new year,
BO Buddhist ancestor-worship has its yearly Bonku,
or Bommatsuri, lasting from the thirteenth to the
sixteenth day of the seventh month. This is the
Buddhist Feast of Souls. Then the butsuma is
decorated to the utmost, special offerings of food and
of flowers are made, and all the house is made beau
tiful to welcome the coming of the ghostly visitors.
Now Shinto, like Buddhism, has its ihai ; but these
are of the simplest possible shape and material, —
mere slips of plain white wood. The average height
is only about eight inches. These tablets are either
placed in a special miya kept in a different room from
that in which the shrine of the Kami is erected, or
else simply arranged on a small shelf called by the
people Mitama-San-no-tana, — " the Shelf of the Au-
1 " Presenting the honorable tea to the august Buddhas," — for by
Baddhist faith it is hoped, if not believed, that the dead become Bud>
dhas and escape the sorrows of further transmigration. Thus the
expression " is dead " is often rendered iu Japanese by the phrase " is
become a Buddha."

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 409
gust Spirits." The shelf or the shrine of the an
cestors and household dead is placed always at a
considerable height in the mitamaya or soreisha (as
the Spirit Chamber is sometimes called), just as is the
miya of the Kami in the other apartment. Some
times no tablets are used, the name being simply
painted upon the woodwork of the Spirit Shrine. But
Shinto has no kaimyo : the living name of the dead
is written upon the ihai, with the sole addition of the
word '¦'¦Mitama" (Spirit). And monthly upon the
day corresponding to the menstrual date of death,
offerings of fish, wine, and other food are made to
the spirits, accompanied by special prayer.^ The
Mitama-San have also their particular lamps and
flower-vases, and, though in lesser degree, are honored
with rites like those of the Kami.
The prayers uttered before the ihai of either faith
begin with the respective religious formulas of Shinto
or of Buddhism. The Shintoist, clapping his hands
thrice or four times,^ first utters the sacramental
Harai-tamai. The Buddhist, according to his sect,
murmurs Namurmyo-ho-ren-ge-kyo, or Namu Amida
1 The idea underlying this offering of food and drink to the dead,
or to the gods, is not so irrational as unthinking critics have declared
it to be. The dead are not supposed to consume any of the visible
substance of the food set before them, for they are thought to be
in an ethereal state requiring only the most vapory kind of nutrition.
The idea is that they absorb only the invisible essence of the food.
And as fruits and other such offerings lose something of their flavor
after having been exposed to the air for several hours, this slight
change would have been taken in other days as evidence that the
spirits had feasted upon them. Scientific education necessarily dissi
pates these consoling illusions, and with them a host of tender and
beautiful fancies as to the relation between the living and the dead.
2 I find that the number of clappings differs in different province*
somewhat. In Kyiishu the clapping is very long, especially before
the prayer to the Eising Sun.

410 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Butsu, or some other holy words of prayer or of
praise to the Buddha, ere commencing his prayer to
the ancestors. The words said to them are seldom
spoken aloud, either by Shintoist or Buddhist : they
are either whispered very low under the breath, or
shaped only within the heart.

At nightfall in Izumo homes the lamps of the gods
and of the ancestors are kindled, either by a trusted
servant or by some member of the family. Shinto
orthodox regulations require that the lamps should
be fiUed with pure vegetable oil only, — tomoshi-
abura, — and oil of rapeseed is customarily used.
However, there is an evident inclination among the
poorer classes to substitute a microscopic kerosene
lamp for the ancient form of utensil. But by the
strictly orthodox this is held to be very wrong, and
even to light the lamps with a match is somewhat
heretical. For it is not supposed that matches are
always made with pure substances, and the lights of
the Kami should be kindled only with purest fire, —
that holy natural fire which lies hidden within all
things. Therefore in some little closet in the home of
any strictly orthodox Shinto family there ia always
a small box containing the ancient instruments used
for the lighting of holy fire. These consist of the
hi-uchi-ishi, or " fire-strike-stone ; " the hi-uchi-gane,
or steel ; the hokuchi, or tinder, made of dried moss ;
and the tsukegi, fine slivers of resinous pine. A
little tinder is laid upon the flint and set smouldering
with a few strokes of the steel, and blown upon until
it flames. A slip of pine is then ignited at this flame,
and with it the lamps of the ancestors and the gods

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 411
are lighted. If several great deities are represented
in the miya or upon the kamidana by several ofuda,
then a separate lamp is sometimes lighted for each ;
and if there be a butsuma in the dwelling, its tapers
or lamp are lighted at the same time.
Although the use of the flint and steel for lighting
the lamps of the gods will probably have become ob
solete within another generation, it still prevails
largely in Izumo, especially in the country districts.
Even where the safety-match has entirely sup
planted the orthodox utensils, the orthodox sentiment
shows itself in the matter of the choice of matches
to be used. Foreign matches are inadmissible : the
native matchmaker quite successfully represented that
foreign matches contained phosphorus "made from
the bones of dead animals," and that to kindle the
li^ts of the Kami with such unholy fire would he
sacrilege. In other parts of Japan the matchmakers
stHmped upon their boxes the words : " Saikyo go
honzon yo " (Fit for the use of the August High Tem
ple of Saikyo^). But Shinto sentiment in Izumo
was too strong to be affected much by any such decla.
ration : indeed, the recommendation of the matches
as suitable for use in a Shin-shii temple was of itself
sufficient to prejudice Shintoists against them. Ac
cordingly special precautions had to be taken before
safety-matches could be satisfactorily introduced into
the Province of the Gods. Izumo match-boxes now
bear the inscription : " Pure, and jit to use for kin
dling the lamps qf the Kami, or of the Rotoke ! "
The inevitable danger to all things in Japan
1 Another name for Kyoto, the Sacred City of Japanese Buddhism.

412 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
is fire. It is the traditional rule that when a house
takes fire, the first objects to be saved, if possible,
are the household gods and the tablets of the ances
tors. It is even said that if these are saved, most
of the family valuables are certain to be saved, and
that if these are lost, all is lost.
XI.
The terms soreisha and mitamaya, as used in
Izumo, may, I am told, signify either the small miya
in which the Shinto ihai (usually made of cherry-
wood) is kept, or that part of the dwelling in which it
is placed, and where the offerings are made. These,
by all who can afford it, are served upon tables of
plain white wood, and of the same high narrow form
as the tables upon which offerings are made in the
temples and at public funeral ceremonies.
The most ordinary form of prayer addressed to the
ancient ancestors in the household cult of Shinto is
not uttered aloud. After pronouncing the initial
formula of all popular Shinto prayer, " Harai-tamai,"
etc., the worshiper says, with his heart only, —
"Spirits august of our far-off ancestors, ye fore
fathers of the generations, and of our families and of
our kindred, unto you, the founders of our homes, we
this day utter the gladness of our thanks."
In the family cult of the Buddhists a distinction ia
made between the household Hotoke — the souls of
those long dead — and the souls of those but recently
deceased. These last are called Shin-botoke, "new
Buddhas," or more strictly, " the newly dead." No
direct request for any supernatural favor is made to
a Shin-botoke; for, though respectfully called Ho-

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 413
toke, the freshly departed soul is not really deemed
to have reached Buddhahood : it is only on the long
road thither, and is in need itself, perhaps, of aid,
rather than capable of giving aid. Indeed, among
the deeply pious its condition is a matter of affec
tionate concern. And especially is this the case when
a little child dies ; for it is thought that the soul of
an infant is feeble and exposed to many dangers.
Wherefore a mother, speaking to the departed soul
of her child, will advise it, admonish it, command it
tenderly, as if addressing a living son or daughter.
The ordinary words said in Izumo homes to any
Shin-botoke take rather the form of adjuration or
counsel than of prayer, such as these : —
'¦'¦ Jobutsu seyo" or ^'¦Jobutsu shimasare." [Do
thou become a Buddha.]
"Mayo na yo." [Go not astray; or. Be never
deluded.] "Miren-wo nokorazu." [Suffer no regret (for thia
world) to linger with thee.]
These prayers are never uttered aloud. Much
more in accordance with the Occidental idea of
prayer is the following, uttered by Shin-shu believers
on behalf of a Shin-botoke : —
" 0-mukai kudasare Amida-Sama." [Vouchsafe,
O Lord Amida, augustly to welcome (this soul).]
Needless to say that ancestor-worship, although
adopted in China and Japan into Buddhism, ia not
of Buddhist origin. Needless also to say that Bud
dhism discountenances suicide. Yet in Japan, anxi
ety about the condition of the soul of the departed
often caused suicide, — or at least justified it on the
part of those who, though accepting Buddhist dogma,
might adhere to primitive custom. Retainers killed

414 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
themselves in the belief that by dying they might
give to the soul of their lord or lady, counsel, aid,
and service. Thus in the novel Hogen-no-mono-
gatari, a retainer is made to say after the death of
his young master : —
" Over the mountain of Shide, over the ghostly
River of Sanzu, who will conduct him? If he be
afraid, will he not call my name, as he was wont to
do ? Surely better that, by slaying myself, I go to
serve him as of old, than to linger here, and mourn
for him in vain."
In Buddhist household worship, the prayers ad
dressed to the family Hotoke proper, the souls of
those long dead, are very different from the addresses
made to the Shin-botoke. The following are a few
examples : they are always said under the breath.
"Kanai anzen." [(Vouchsafe) that our family
may be preserved.]
"Unmei sakusai." [That we may enjoy long life
without sorrow.]
" Shobai hanjo." [That our business may prosper.]
Said only by merchants and tradesmen.]
"SMson chokin." [That the perpetuity of our
descent may be assured.]
" Onteki taisan." [That our enemies be scattered.]
"Yakubyo shometsu." [That pestilence may not
come nigh us.]
Some of the above are used also by Shinto wor
shipers. The old samurai still repeat the special
prayers of their caste : —
" Tenka taihei." [That long peace may prevail
throughout the world.]
"Bu-un chokyu." [That we may have eternal
good-fortune in war.]

THE HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. 415
^'' Ka-ei-manzoku." [That our house (family) may
forever remain fortunate.]
But besides these silent formulae, any prayers
prompted by the heart, whether of supplication or of
gratitude, may, of course, be repeated. Such prayers
are said, or rather thought, in the speech of daily
life. The following little prayer uttered by an Izumo
mother to the ancestral spirit, besought on behalf of
a sick child, is an example : —
" 0-kage ni kodomo no by oki mo zenkwai itashimor
shite, arigato-gozarimasu ! " [By thine august influ
ence the illness of my child has passed away; — I
thank thee.]
" 0-kage ni" literally signifies "in the august
shadow of." There is a ghostly beauty in the origi
nal phrase that neither a free nor yet a precise
translation can preserve. XII.
Thus, in this home-worship of the Far East, by
love the dead are made divine ; and the foreknow
ledge of this tender apotheosis must temper with
consolation the natural melancholy of age. Never
in Japan are the dead so quickly forgotten as with
us : by simple faith they are deemed still to dwell
among their beloved; and their place within the
home remains ever holy. And the aged patriarch
about to pass away knows that loving lips will
nightly murmur to the memory of him before the
household shrine; that faithful hearts will beseech
him in their pain and bless him in their joy; that
gentle hands will place before his ihai pure offerings
of fruits and flowers, and dainty repasts of the things
which he was wont to like ; and will pour out for

416 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
him, into the little cup of ghosts and gods, the fra
grant tea of guests or the amber rice-wine. Strange
changes are coming upon the land : old customs are
vanishing; old beliefs are weakening; the thoughts
of to-day will not be the thoughts of another age, —
but of all this he knows happily nothing in his own
quaint, simple, beautiful Izumo. He dreams that for
him, as for his fathers, the httle lamp will burn on
through the generations; he sees, in softest fancy,
the yet unborn — the children of his children's chil
dren — clapping their tiny hands in Shinto prayer,
and making filial obeisance before the little dusty
tablet that bears his unforgotten name.

xvni
OF WOMEN'S HAIR.
I.
The hair of the younger daughter of the family ia
very long ; and it is a spectacle of no small interest
to see it dressed. It is dressed once in every three
days ; and the operation, which costs four sen, is ac
knowledged to require one hour. As a matter of fact
it requires nearly two. The hairdresser (kamiyui)
first sends her maiden apprentice, who cleans the
hair, washes it, perfumes it, and combs it with ex
traordinary combs of at least five different kinds. So
thoroughly is the hair cleansed that it remains for
three days, or even four, immaculate beyond our
Occidental conception of things. In the morning,
during the dusting time, it is carefully covered with
a handkerchief or a little blue towel ; and the curious
Japanese wooden pillow, which supports the neck,
not the head, renders it possible to sleep at ease with
out disarranging the marvelous structure.^
After the apprentice has finished her part of the
work, the hairdresser herself appears, and begins to
build the coiffure. For this task she uses, besides
the extraordinary variety of combs, fine loops of gilt
1 Formerly both sexes used the same pillow for the same reason.
The long hair of a samurai youth, tied up in an elaborate knot, re
quired much time to arrange. Since it has become the almost
universal custom to wear the hair short, the men lave adopted a.
piUow shaped like a small bolster.

418 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
thread or colored paper twine, dainty bits of deli
ciously tinted crape-silk, delicate steel springs, and
curious little basket-shaped things over which the
hair is moulded into the required forms before being
fixed in place.
The kamiyui also brings razors with her ; for the
Japanese girl is shaved, — cheeks, ears, brows, chin,
even nose ! What is there to shave ? Only that
peachy floss which is the velvet of the finest human
skin, but which Japanese taste removes. There is,
however, another use for the razor. All maidens
bear the signs of their maidenhood in the form of a
little round spot, about an inch in diameter, shaven
clean upon the very top of the head. This is only
partially concealed by a band of hair brought back
from the forehead across it, and fastened to the
back hair. The girl-baby's head is totally shaved.
When a few years old the little creature's hair is al
lowed to grow except at the top of the head, where a
large tonsure is maintained. But the size of the ton
sure diminishes year by year, until it shrinks after
childhood to the small spot above described; and
this, too, vanishes after marriage, when a still more
complicated fashion of wearing the hair is adopted.
n.
Such absolutely straight dark hair as that of most
Japanese women might seem, to Occidental ideas at
least, ill-suited to the highest possibilities of the art
of the coiffeuse.^ But the skill of the kamiyui has
^ It is an error to suppose that all Japanese have blue-black hair.
There ave two distinct racial types. In one the hair is a deep brown
instead of a pure black, and is also softer and finer. Barely, but
very rarely, one may see a Japanese chevelure having a natural ten-

OF WOMEN'S HAIR. 419
made it tractable to every aesthetic whim. Ringlets,
indeed, are unknown, and curling irons. But what
wonderful and beautiful shapes the hair of the girl
is made to assume : volutes, jets, whirls, eddyings,
foliations, each passing into the other blandly as a
linking of brush-strokes in the writing of a Chinese
master ! Far beyond the skill of the Parisian coif.
feuse is the art of the kamiyui. From the mythical
era ^ of the race, Japanese ingenuity has exhausted
itself in the invention and the improvement of pretty
devices for the dressing of woman's hair ; and prob
ably there have never been so many beautiful fashions
of wearing it in any other country as there have been
in Japan. These have changed through the centuries ;
sometimes becoming wondrously intricate of design,
sometimes exquisitely simple, — as in that gracious
custom, recorded for us in so many quaint drawings,
of allowing the long black tresses to flow unconfined
below the waist.^ But every mode of which we
have any pictorial record had its own striking charm.
Indian, Chinese, Malayan, Korean ideas of beauty
found their way to the Land of the Gods, and were
appropriated and transfigured by the finer native
conceptions of comeliness. Buddhism, too, which so
profoundly influenced all Japanese art and thought,
may possibly have influenced fashions of wearing the
dency to ripple. For curious reasons, which cannot be stated here, au
Izumo woman is very much ashamed of having wavy hair, — more
ashamed than she would be of a natural deformity.
' Even in the time of the writing of the Kojiki the art of arranfring
the hair must have been somewhat developed. See Professor Cham-
beiliiin's iutroduction to translation, p. xxxi. ; also vol. i. section ix. ;
vol. vii. section xii.; vol. ix. section xviii., et passim.
^ An art expert can decide the age of an unsigned kakemono or
other work of art in which human figures appear, by the style of the
coiffure of the female personages.

420 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
hair ; for its female divinities appear with the most
beautiful coiffures. Notice the hair of a Kwannon
or a Benten, and the tresses of the Tennin, — those
angel-maidens who float in azure upon the ceilings of
the great temples. ni.
The particular attractiveness of the modern styles
is the way in which the hair is made to serve as an
elaborate nimbus for the features, giving delightful
relief to whatever of fairness or sweetness the young
face may possess. Then behind this charming black
aureole is a riddle of graceful loopings and weavings
whereof neither the beginning nor the ending can
possibly be discerned. Only the kamiyui knows the
key to that riddle. And the whole is held in place
with curious ornamental combs, and shot through
with long fine pins of gold, silver, nacre, transparent
tortoise-shell, or lacquered wood, with cunningly car-
ven heads.^ rv.
Not less than fourteen different ways of dressing
the hair are practiced by the coiffeuses of Izumo ; but
doubtless in the capital, and in some of the larger
cities of eastern Japan, the art is much more elab
orately developed. The hairdressers (kamiyui) go
from house to house to exercise their calling, visit
ing their clients upon fixed days at certain regular
hours. The hair of little girls from seven to eight
years old is in Matsue dressed usually after the style
1 The principal and indispensable hair-pin (kanzashi), usually about
seven inches long, is split, and its well-tempered double shaft can be
used like a small pair of chopsticks for picking up small things. The
head is terminated by a tiny spoon-shaped projection, which has a
special purpose in the Japanese toilette.

OF WOMEN'S HAIR. 421
called 0-tabako-bon, unless it be simply "banged."
In the 0-tabako-bon ("honorable smoking -box"
style) the hair is cut to the length of about four
inches all round except above the forehead, where it
is clipped a little shorter ; and on the summit of the
head it is allowed to grow longer and is gathered up
into a peculiarly shaped knot, which justifies the
curious name of the coiffure. As soon as the girl be
comes old enough to go to a female public day-school,
her hair is dressed in the pretty, simple style called
katsurashita, or perhaps in the new, ugly, semi-foreign
" bundle-style " called sokuhatsu, which has become
the regulation fashion in boarding-schools. For the
daughters of the poor, and even for most of those of
the middle classes, the public-school period is rather
brief ; their studies usually cease a few years before
they are marriageable, and girls marry very early in
Japan. The maiden's first elaborate coiffure is ar
ranged for her when she reaches the age of fourteen
or fifteen, at earliest. From twelve to fourteen her
hair is dressed in the fashion called Omoyedzuki ;
then the style is changed to the beautiful coiffure
called jorowage. There are various forms of this
style, more or less complex. A couple of years later,
the jorowage yields place in the turn to the shinjocho ^
(" new-butterfly " style), or the shimada, also called
takawage. The shinjocho style is common, is worn
by women of various ages, and is not considered very
genteel. The shimada, exquisitely elaborate, is ; but
1 The shinjocho is also called Ichogaeshi by old people, although the
original Ichogaeshi was somewhat different. The samurai girls used
to wear their hair in the true Ichogaeshi manner ; the name is derived
from the icho-tree (Salisburia andiantifolia), whose leaves have a queer
shape, almost like that of a duck's foot. Certain bands of the hair in
this coiffure bore a resemblance in form to icho-leaves.

422 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
the more respectable the family, the smaller the form
of this coiffure; geisha and joro wear a larger and
loftier variety of it, which properly answers to the
name takawage, or " high coiffure." Between eigh
teen and twenty years of age the maiden again ex
changes this style for another termed Tenjingaeshi ;
between twenty and twenty-four years of age she
adopts the fashion called mitsu wage, or the " triple
coiffure " of three loops ; and a somewhat similar but
still more complicated coiffure, called mitsuwakudzu-
shi is worn by young women of from twenty-five to
twenty-eight. Up to that age every change in the
fashion of wearing the hair has been in the direction
of elaborateness and complexity. But after twenty-
eight a Japanese woman is no longer considered
young, and there is only one more coiffure for her,
— the mochiriwage or bobai, the simple and rather
ugly style adopted by old women.
But the girl who marries wears her hair in a fash
ion quite different from any of the preceding. The
most beautiful, the most elaborate, and the most
costly of all modes is the bride's coiffure, called hana-
yome, a word literally signifying " flower- vrife."
The structure is dainty as its name, and must be seen
to be artistically appreciated. Afterwards the wife
wears her hair in the styles called kumesa or maru-
wage, another name for which is katsuyama. The
kumesa style is not genteel, and is the coiffure of the
poor ; the maruwage or katsuyama is refined. In for
mer times the samurai women wore their hair in two
particular styles : the maiden's coiffure was ichogae
shi, and that of the married folk katahajishi. It is
still possible to see in Matsue a few katahajishi coif
fures.

OF WOMEN'S HAIR. 423
V.
The family kamiyui, 0-Koto-San, the most skillful
of her craft in Izumo, is a little woman of about
thirty, still quite attractive. About her neck there
are three soft pretty lines, forming what connois
seurs of beauty term " the necklace of Venus." This
is a rare charm ; but it once nearly proved the ruin
of Koto. The story is a curious one.
Koto had a rival at the beginning of her profes
sional career, — a woman of considerable skill as a
eoiffeuse, but of malignant disposition, named Jin.
Jin gradually lost all her respectable custom, and
little Koto became the fashionable hairdresser. But
her old rival, filled with jealous hate, invented a
wicked story about Koto, and the story found root
in the rich soil of old Izumo superstition, and grew
fantastically. The idea of it had been suggested to
.Tin's cunning mind by those three soft lines about
Koto's neck. She declared that Koto had a " NuKE-
KUBI." What is a nuke-kubi ? " Kubi " signifies either the
neck or head. " Nukeru " means to creep, to skulk,
to prowl, to slip away stealthily. To have a nuke-
kubi is to have a head that detaches itself from the
body, and prowls about at night — by itself.
Koto has been twice married, and her second match
was a happy one. But her first husband caused her
much trouble, and ran away from her at last, in com
pany with some worthless woman. Nothing was
ever heard of him afterward, — so that Jin thought
it quite safe to invent a nightmare-story to account
for his disappearance. She said that he abandoned
Koto because, on awaking one night, he saw his
VOL. u.

424 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
young wife's head rise from the pillow, and her neck
lengthen hke a great white serpent, while the rest of
her body remained motionless. He saw the head,
supported by the ever lengthening neck, enter the
farther apartment and drink aU the oil in the lamps,
and then return to the pillow slowly, — the neck
simultaneously contracting. " Then he rose up and
fled away from the house in great fear," said Jin.
As one story begets another, all sorts of queer
rumors soon began to circulate about poor Koto.
There was a tale that some police-officer, late at
night, saw a woman's head without a body, nibbling
fruit from a tree overhanging some garden-wall ; and
that, knowing it to be a nuke-kubi, he struck it with
the flat of his sword. It shrank away as swiftly as a
bat flies, but not before he had been able to recognize
the face of the kamiyui. " Oh ! it is quite true ! "
declared Jin, the morning after the alleged occur
rence; "and if you don't believe it, send word to
Koto that you want to see her. She can't go out :
her face is all swelled up." Now the last statement
was fact, — for Koto had a very severe toothache at
that time, — and the fact helped the falsehood. And
the story found its way to the local newspaper, which
published it — only as a strange example of popular
credulity ; and Jin said, " Am I a teller of the truth?
See, the paper has printed it ! "
Wherefore crowds of curious people gathered be
fore Koto's little house, and made her life such a
burden to her that her husband had to watch her con
stantly to keep her from killing herself. Fortunately
she had good friends in the family of the Governor,
where she had been employed for years as eoiffeuse ;
and the Governor, hearing of the wickedness, wrote

OF WOMEN'S HAIR. 425
a public denunciation of it, and set his name to it,
and printed it. Now the people of Matsue rever
enced their old samurai Governor as if he were a
god, and believed his least word; and seeing what
he had written, they became ashamed, and also de
nounced the lie and the liar ; and the little hair
dresser soon became more prosperous than before
through popular sympathy.
Some of the most extraordinary beliefs of old days
are kept alive in Izumo and elsewhere by what are
called in America " traveling side-shows ; " and the
inexperienced foreigner could never imagine the pos
sibilities of a Japanese side-show. On certain great
holidays the showmen make their appearance, put up
their ephemeral theatres of rush-matting and bamboos
in some temple court, surfeit expectation by the most
incredible surprises, and then vanish as suddenly as
they came. The Skeleton of a Devil, the Claws of
a Goblin, and "a Rat as large as a sheep," were
some of the least extraordinary displays which I saw.
The Goblin's Claws were remarkably fine shark's
teeth ; the Devil's Skeleton had belonged to an orang
outang, — all except the horns ingeniously attached
to the skull ; and the wondrous Rat I discovered to
be a tame kangaroo. What I could not fully under
stand was the exhibition of a nuke-kubi, in which a
young woman stretched her neck, apparently, to a
length of about two feet, making ghastly faces during
the performance. VI.
There are also some strange old superstitions about
women's hair.
The myth of Medusa has many a counterpart in

426 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Japanese folk-lore : the subject of such tales being
always some wondrously beautiful girl, whose hair
turns to snakes only at night, and vvho is discovered
at last to be either a dragon or a dragon's daughter.
But in ancient times it was believed that the hair of
any young woman might, under certain trying cir
cumstances, change into serpents. For instance:
under the influence of long-repressed jealousy.
There were many men of wealth who, in the days
of Old Japan, kept their concubines (mekakS or
aisho) under the same roof with their legitimate
wives (okusama). And it is told that, although the
severest patriarchal discipline might compel the me-
kake and the okusama to live together in perfect
seeming harmony by day, their secret hate would
reveal itself by night in the transformation of their
hair. The long black tresses of each would uncoil
and hiss and strive to devour those of the other;
¦ — and even the mirrors of the sleepers would dash
themselves together ; — for, saith an ancient proverb,
kagami onna-^o tamashii, — "a Mirror is the Soul
of a Woman." ^ And there is a famous tradition of
one Kato Sayemon Shigenji, who beheld in the night
the hair of his wife and the hair of his concubine,
changed into vipers, writhing together and hissing
and biting. Then Kato Sayemon grieved much for
that secret bitterness of hatred whicb thus existed
through his fault ; and he shaved his head and be
came a priest in the great Buddhist monastery of
1 The old Japanese mirrors were made of metal, and were ex
tremely beautiful. Kagami ga kumoru to tamashii ga kumoru
{" When the Mirror is dim, the Soul is unclean ") is another curious
proverb relating to mirrors. Perhaps the most beautiful and touch-
ing story of a mirror in any language is that called Matsuyama-n*
kagami, which has been translated by Mrs. James.

OF WOMEN'S HAIR. 427
Koya-San, where he dwelt until the day of his death
under the name of Karukaya. VII.
The hair of dead women is arranged in the manner
called tabanegami, somewhat resembling the shi
mada extremely simplified, and without ornaments of
any kind. The name tabanegami signifies hair tied
into a bunch, like a sheaf of rice. This style must
also be worn by women during the period of mourn
ing. Ghosts, nevertheless, are represented with hair
loose and long, falling weirdly over the face. And
no doubt because of the melancholy suggestiveness
of its drooping branches, the willow is believed to b«
the favorite tree of ghosts. Thereunder, 't is said,
they mourn in the night, mingling their shadowy
hair with the long disheveled tresses of the tree.
Tradition says that Okyo Maruyama was the first
Japanese artist who drew a ghost. The Shogun,
having invited him to his palace, said : " Make a
picture of a ghost for me." Okyo promised to do so ;
but he was puzzled how to execute the order satisfac
torily. A few days later, hearing that one of his
aunts was very ill, he visited her. She was so ema
ciated that she looked like one already long dead.
As he watched by her bedside, a ghastly inspiration
came to him: he drew the fleshless face and long
disheveled hair, and created from that hasty sketch
a ghost that surpassed all the Shogun's expectations.
Afterwards Okyo became very famous as a painter
of ghosts.
Japanese ghosts are always represented as diapha
nous, and preternaturally tall, — only the upper part

428 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
of the figure being distinctly outlined, and the lower
part fading utterly away. As the Japanese say, " a
ghost has no feet : " its appearance is like an exha
lation, which becomes visible only at a certain dis
tance above the ground ; and it wavers and lengthens
and undulates in the conceptions of artists, like a
vapor moved by wind. Occasionally phantom women
figure in picture-books in the likeness of living
women; but these are not true ghosts. They are
fox-women or other goblins ; and their supernatural
character is suggested by a peculiar expression of the
eyes and a certain impossible elfish grace.
Little children in Japan, like little children in all
countries, keenly enjoy the pleasure of fear; and they
have many games in which such pleasure forms the
chief attraction. Among these is O-bake-goto, or
Ghost-play. Some nurse-girl or elder sister loosens
her hair in front, so as to let it fall over her face, and
pursues the little folk with moans and weird gestures,
miming all the attitudes of the ghosts of the picture-
books.
vm.
As the hair of the Japanese woman is her richest
ornament, it is of all her possessions that which she
would most suffer to lose ; and in other days the man
too manly to kill an erring wife deemed it vengeance
enough to turn her away with all her hair shorn off.
Only the greatest faith or the deepest love can prompt
a woman to the voluntary sacrifice of her entire cheve
lure, though partial sacrifices, offerings of one or two
long thick cuttings, may be seen suspended before
many an Izumo shrine.
What faith can do in the way of such sacrifice, ha
best knows who has seen the great cables, woven of

OF WOMEN'S HAIR. 429
women's hair, that hang in the vast Hongwanji
temple at Kyoto. And love is stronger than faith,
though much less demonstrative. According to an
cient custom a wife bereaved sacrifices a portion of
her hair to be placed in the coffin of her husband,
and buried with him. The quantity is not fixed : in
the majority of cases it is very small, so that the
appearance of the coiffure is thereby nowise affected.
But she who resolves to remain forever loyal to the
memory of the lost yields up all. With her own
hand she cuts off her hair, and lays the whole glossy
sacrifice — emblem of her youth and beauty — upon
the knees of the dead.
It is never suffered to grow again.

XIX
FROM THE DIAKT OF AN ENGLISH TEACHER.
I,
Matsue, September 2, 1890.
I AM under contract to serve as English teacher in
the Jinjo Chiigakko, or Ordinary Middle School, and
also in the Shihan-Gakko, or Normal School, of Ma
tsue, Izumo, for the term of one year.
The Jinjo Chiigakko is an immense two-story
wooden building in European style, painted a dark
gray-blue. It has accommodations for nearly three
hundred day scholars. It is situated in one corner of
a great square of ground, bounded on two sides by
canals, and on the other two by very quiet streets.
This site is very near the ancient castle.
The Normal School is a much larger building oc
cupying the opposite angle of the square. It is also
much handsomer, is painted snowy white, and has a
little cupola upon its summit. There are only about
one hundred and fifty students in the Shihan-Gakko,
but they are boarders.
Between these two schools are other educational
buildings, which I shall learn more about later.
It is my first day at the schools. Nishida Sentaro,
the Japanese teacher of English, has taken me through
the buildings, introduced me to the Directors, and
to all my future colleagues, given me all necessary
instructions about hours and about text-books, and

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 431
furnished my desk with all things necessaiy. Before
teaching begins, however, I must be introduced to the
Governor of the Province, Koteda Yasusada, with
whom my contract has been made, through the me
dium of his secretary. So Nishida leads the way to
the Kencho, or Prefectural office, situated in another
foreign-looking edifice across the street.
We enter it, ascend a wide stairway, and enter a
spacious room carpeted in European fashion, — a room
with bay windows and cushioned chairs. One person
is seated at a small round table, and about him are
standing half a dozen others : all are in full Japanese
costume, ceremonial costume, — splendid silken ha
kama, or Chinese trousers, silken robes, silken haori
or overdress, marked with their mon or family crests :
rich and dignified attire which makes me ashamed
of my commonplace Western garb. These are officials
of the Kencho, and teachers : the person seated is the
Governor. He rises to greet me, gives me the hand-
grasp of a giant : and as I look into his eyes, I feel I
shall love that man to the day of my death. A face
fresh and frank as a boy's, expressing much placid
force and large-hearted kindness, — all the calm of a
Buddha. Beside him, the other officials look very
small : indeed the first impression of him is that of
a man of another race. While I am wondering
whether the old Japanese heroes were cast in a simi
lar mould, he signs to me to take a seat, and ques
tions my guide in a mellow basso. There is a charm
in the fluent depth of the voice pleasantly confirming
the idea suggested by the face. An attendant brings
4ea. " The Governor asks," interprets Nishida, " if you
know the old history of Izumo,"

432 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
I reply that I have read the Kojiki, translated by
Professor Chamberlain, and have therefore some
knowledge of the story of Japan's most ancient prov
ince. Some converse in Japanese follows, Nishida
tells the Governor that I came to Japan to study the
ancient religion and customs, and that I am particu
larly interested in Shinto and the traditions of Izumo.
The Governor suggests that I make visits to the cel
ebrated shrines of Kitzuki, Yaegaki, and Kumano,
and then asks : —
" Does he know the tradition of the origin of the
clapping of hands before a Shinto shrine ? "
I reply in the negative ; and the Governor says
the tradition is given in a commentary upon the
Kojiki, "It is in the thirty-second section of the four
teenth volume, where it is written that Ya-he-Koto-
Shiro-nushi-no-Kami clapped his hands,"
I thank the Governor for his kind suggestions and
his citation. After a brief silence I am graciously
dismissed with another genuine hand grasp ; and we
return to the school, n.
I have been teaching for three hours in the Middle
School, and teaching Japanese boys turns out to be a
much more agreeable task than I had imagined. Each
class has been so well prepared for me beforehand by
Nishida that my utter ignorance of Japanese makes
no difficulty in regard to teaching : moreover, although
the lads cannot understand my words always when I
speak, they can understand whatever I write upon
the blackboard with chalk. Most of them have
already been studying English from childhood, with
Japanese teachers. All are wonderfully docile and

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 433
patient. According to old custom, when the teacher
enters, the whole class rises and bows to him. He
returns the bow, and calls the roll.
Nishida is only too kind. He helps me in every
way he possibly can, and is constantly regretting
that he cannot help me more. There are, of course,
some difficulties to overcome. For instance, it will
take me a very, very long time to learn the names of
the boys, — most of which names I cannot even pro
nounce, with the class-roll before me. And although
the names of the different classes have been painted
upon the doors of their respective rooms in English
letters, for the benefit of the foreign teacher, it will
take me some weeks at least to become quite familiar
with them. For the time being Nishida always
guides me to the rooms. He also shows me the way,
through long corridors, to the Normal School, and
introduces me to the teacher Nakayama who is to
act there as my guide.
I have been engaged to teach only four times a
week at the Normal School; but I am furnished
there also with a handsome desk in the teachers*
apartment, and am made to feel at home almost im
mediately. Nakayama shows me everything of in
terest in the building before introducing me to my
future pupils. The introduction is pleasant and
novel as a school experience. I am conducted along
a corridor, and ushered into a large luminous white
washed room full of young men in dark blue military
uniform. Each sits at a very small desk, supported
by a single leg, with three feet. At the end of the
room is a platform with a high desk and a chair for
the teacher. As I take my place at the desk, a voice
rings out in English: "Stand up!" And all rise

434 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
with a springy movement as if moved by machinery.
'¦'¦Bow down!" the same voice again commands,—
the voice of a young student wearing a captain's
stripes upon his sleeve ; and all salute me. I bow in
return ; we take our seats ; and the lesson begins.
All teachers at the Normal School are saluted in
the same military fashion before each class-hour, —
only the command is given in Japanese. For my
sake only, it is given in English. ni. September 22, 1890.
The Normal School is a State institution. Stu
dents are admitted upon examination and production
of testimony as to good character ; but the number
is, of course, limited. The young men pay no fees,
no boarding money, nothing even for books, college-
outfits, or wearing apparel. They are lodged, clothed,
fed, and educated by the State ; but they are required
in return, after their graduation, to serve the State
as teachers for the space of five years. Admission,
however, by no means assures graduation. There
are three or four examinations each year ; and the
students who fail to obtain a certain high average of
examination marks must leave the school, however
exemplary their conduct or earnest their study. No
leniency can be shown where the educational needs
of the State are concerned, and these call for natural
ability and a high standard of its proof.
The discipline is military and severe. Indeed, it ia
BO thorough that the graduate of a Normal School is
exempted by military law from more than a year'a
service in the army : he leaves college a trained sol
dier. Deportment is also a requisite : special marks

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 435
are given for it ; and however gawky a freshman may
prove at the time of his admission, he cannot remain
so. A spirit of manliness is cultivated, which ex
cludes roughness but develops self-reliance and self-
control. The student is required, when speaking, to
look his teacher in the face, and to utter his words
not only distinctly, but sonorously. Demeanor in
class is partly enforced by the class-room fittings
themselves. The tiny tables are too narrow to allow
of being used as supports for the elbows ; the seats
have no backs against which to lean, and the student
must hold himself rigidly erect as he studies. He
must also keep himself faultlessly neat and clean.
Whenever and wherever he encounters one of his
teachers he must halt, bring his feet together, draw
himself erect, and give the military salute. And
this is done with a swift grace difficult to describe.
The demeanor of a class during study hours is if
anything too faultless. Never a whisper is heard;
never is a head raised from the book without permis
sion. But when the teacher addresses a student by
name, the youth rises instantly, and replies in a tone
of such vigor as would seem to unaccustomed ears
almost startling by contrast with the stillness and
self-repression of the others.
The female department of the Normal School,
where about fifty young women are being trained as
teachers, is a separate two-story quadrangle of build
ings, large, airy, and so situated, together with its
gardens, as to be totally isolated from all other build
ings and invisible from the street. The girls are not
only taught European science by the most advanced
methods, but are trained as well in Japanese arts, — •
the arts of embroidery, of decoration, of painting.

436 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
and of arranging flowers. European drawing is also
taught, and beautifully taught, not only here, but in
all the schools. It is taught, however, in combina
tion with Japanese methods ; and the results of this
blending may certainly be expected to have some
charming influence upon future art-production. The
average capacity of the Japanese student in drawing
is, I think, at least fifty per cent, higher than that of
European students. The soul of the race is essen
tially artistic ; and the extremely difficult art of learn
ing to write the Chinese characters, in which all are
trained from early childhood, has already disciplined
the hand and the eye to a marvelous degree, — a
degree undreamed of in the Occident, — long before
the drawing-master begins his lessons of perspective.
Attached to the great Normal School, and con
nected by a corridor with the Jinjo Chiigakko like
wise, is a large elementary school for little boys and
girls: its teachers are male and female students of
the graduating classes, who are thus practically
trained for their profession before entering the ser
vice of the State. Nothing could be more interesting
as an educational spectacle to any sympathetic for
eigner than some of this elementary teaching. In
the first room which I visit a class of very little girls
and boys -rr some as quaintly pretty as their own
dolls — are bending at their desks over sheets of
coal-black paper which you would think they were
trying to make still blacker by energetic use of
writing-brushes and what we call Indian-ink. They
are really learning to write Chinese and Japanese
characters, stroke by stroke. Until one stroke has
been well learned, they are not suffered to attempt

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 437
another — much less a combination. Long before
the first lesson is thoroughly mastered, the white
paper has become aU evenly black under the multi
tude of tyro brush-strokes. Eut the same sheet is
still used ; for the wet ink makes a yet blacker mark
upon the dry, so that it can easily be seen.
In a room adjoining, I see another child-class
learning to use scissors — Japanese scissors, which,
being formed in one piece, shaped something like the
letter U, are much less easy to manage than ours.
The little folk are being taught to cut out patterns,
and shapes of special objects or symbols to be
studied. Flower-forms are the most ordinary pat
terns; sometimes certain ideographs are given as
subjects. And in another room a third small class is learn
ing to sing? the teacher writing the music notes
(do, re, mi) with chalk upon a blackboard, and ac
companying the song with an accordion. The little
ones have learned the Japanese national anthem
(Kimi ga yo wa) and two native songs set to Scotch
airs, — one of which calls back to me, even in this
remote corner of the Orient, many a charming mem
ory : Auld Lang Syne.
No uniform is worn in this elementary school : ali
are in Japanese dress, — the boys in dark blue ki
mono, the little girls in robes of all tints, radiant as
butterflies. But in addition to their robes, the girls
wear hakama,^ and these are of a vivid, warm sky-
blue. Between the hours of teaching, ten minutes are
allowed for play or rest. The little boys play at
1 There is a legend that the Sun-Goddess invented the first hakama,
bjr tying together the skirts of her robe.

438 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Demon-Shadows or at blindman's-buff or at some
other funny game : they laugh, leap, shout, race, and
wrestle, but, unlike European children, never quarrel
or fight.^ As for the little girls, they get by them
selves, and either play at hand-ball, or form into cir
cles to play at some round game, accompanied by
song. Indescribably soft and sweet the chorus of
those little voices in the round.
Kango-kango sho-ya,
Naka yoni sho-ya,
Don-don to kunde
Jizo-San no midzu wo
Matsuba no midzu irete,
Makkuri kae'so.^
I notice that the young men, as well as the young
women, who teach these little folk, are extremely
tender to their charges. A child whose kimono is
out of order, or dirtied by play, is taken aside and
brushed and arranged as carefully as by an elder
brother. Besides being trained for their future profession
by teaching the children of the elementary school,
the girl students of the Shihan-Gakko are also trained
to teach in the neighboring kindergarten. A delight
ful kindergarten it is, with big cheerful sunny rooms,
1 Since the above was written I have had two years' experience as
a teacher in various large Japanese schools ; and I have never had
personal knowledge of any serious quarrel between students, and
have never even heard of a fight among my pupils. And I have
taught some eight hundred boys and young men.
2 " Let us play the game called kango-kango. Plenteously the
water of Jizo-San quickly draw, — and pour on the pine-leaves, — and
tum back again." Many of the games of Japanese children, like
many of their toys, have a Buddhist origin, or at least a Buddhist
significance.

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 439
where stocks of the most ingenious educational toys
are piled upon shelves for daily use.
IV. October 1, 1890.
Nevertheless I am destined to see little of the Nor
mal School. Strictly speaking, I do not belong to
its staff : my services being only lent by the Middle
School, to which I give most of my time. I see the
Normal School students in their class-rooms only,
for they are not allowed to go out to visit their
teachers' homes in the town. So I can never hope
to become as familiar with them as with the stu
dents of the Chiigakko, who are beginning to call
me "Teacher" instead of " Sir," and to treat me as a
sort of elder brother. (I objected to the word " mas
ter," for in Japan the teacher has no need of being
masterful.) And I feel less at home in the large,
bright, comfortable apartments of the Normal School
teachers than in our dingy, chilly teachers' room at
the Chiigakko, where my desk is next to that of Ni
shida. On the walls there are maps, crowded with Japa
nese ideographs ; a few large charts representing zo
ological facts in the light of evolutional science ; and
an immense frame filled with little black lacquered
wooden tablets, so neatly fitted together that the
entire surface is uniform as that of a blackboard.
On these are written, or rather painted, in white,
names of teachers, subjects, classes, and order of
teaching hours ; and by the ingenious tablet arrange
ment any change of hours can be represented by
simply changing the places of the tablets. As all
this is written in Chinese and Japanese characters, it
VOL. II.

440 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
remains to me a mystery, except in so far as the
general plan and purpose are concerned. I have
learned only to recognize the letters of my own name,
and the simpler form of numerals.
On every teacher's desk there is a small hibachi of
glazed blue-and-white ware, containing a few lumps
of glowing charcoal in a bed of ashes. During the
brief intervals between classes each teacher smokes
his tiny Japanese pipe of brass, iron, or silver. The
hibachi and a cup of hot tea are our consolations for
the fatigues of the class-room.
Nishida and one or two other teachers know a
good deal of English, and we chat together some
times between classes. But more often no one
speaks. All are tired after the teaching hour, and
prefer to smoke in silence. At such times the only
sounds within the room are the ticking of the clock,
and the sharp clang of the little pipes being rapped
upon the edges of the hibachi to empty out the ashes.
e. October 15, 1890.
To-day I witnessed the annual athletic contests
(undo-kwai) of all the schools in Shimane Ken.
These games were celebrated in the broad castle
grounds of Ninomaru. Yesterday a circular race
track had been staked off, hurdles erected for leaping,
thousands of wooden seats prepared for invited or
privileged spectators, and a grand lodge built for the
Governor, all before sunset. The place looked like
a vast circus, with its tiers of plank seats rising
one above the other, and the Governor's lodge mag
nificent with wreaths and flags. School children
from all the villages and towns within twenty-five

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 441
miles had arrived in surprising multitude. Nearly
six thousand boys and girls were entered to take part
in the contests. Their parents and relatives and
teachers made an imposing assembly upon the benches
and within the gates. And on the ramparts over
looking the huge inclosure a much larger crowd had
gathered, representing perhaps one third of the popu
lation of the city.
The signal to begin or to end a contest was a pistol-
shot. Four different kinds of games were performed
in different parts of the grounds at the same time,
as there was room enough for an army; and prizes
were awarded to the winners of each contest by the
hand of the Governor himself.
There were races between the best runners in each
class of the different schools ; and the best runner of
all proved to be Sakane, of our own fifth class, who
came in first by nearly forty yards without seeming
even to make an effort. He is our champion athlete,
and as good as he is strong, — ¦ so that it made me
very happy to see him with his arms full of prize
books. He won also a fencing contest decided bythe
breaking of a little earthenware saucer tied to the
left arm of each combatant. And he also won a leap
ing match between our older boys.
But many hundreds of other winners there were
too, and many hundreds of prizes were given away.
There were races in which the runners were tied to
gether in pairs, the left leg of one to the right leg
of the other. There were equally funny races, the
winning of which depended on the runner's ability
not only tc run, but to crawl, to climb, to vault, and
to jnmp alternately. There were races also for the
little girls, — - pretty as butterflies they seemed in

442 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
their sky-blue hakama and many colored robes,—
races in which the contestants had each to pick up as
they ran three balls of three different colors out of a
number scattered over the turf. Besides this, the
little girls had what is called a flag-race, and a contest
with battledores and shuttlecocks.
Then came the tug-of-war. A magnificent tug-of-
war, too, — one hundred students at one end of a rope,
and another hundred at the other. But the most
wonderful spectacles of the day were the dumb-bell
exercises. Six thousand boys and girls, massed in
ranks about five hundred deep ; six thousand pairs
of arms rising and falling exactly together ; six
thousand pairs of sandaled feet advancing or retreat
ing together, at the signal of the masters of gym
nastics, directing all from the tops of various little
wooden towers ; six thousand voices chanting at once
the " one, two, three," of the dumb-bell drill: " Ichi,
ni, — san, shi, — go, roku, — shichi, hachi."
Last came the curious game called "Taking the
Castle." Two models of Japanese towers, about
fifteen feet high, made with paper stretched over a
framework of bamboo, were set up, one at each end
of the field. Inside the castles an inflammable liquid
had been placed in open vessels, so that if the vessels
were overturned the whole fabric would take fire.
The boys, divided into two parties, bombarded the
castles with wooden balls, which passed easily through
the paper walls ; and in a short time both models
were making a glorious blaze. Of course the party
whose castle was the first to blaze lost the game.
The games began at eight o'clock in the morning,
and at five in the evening came to an end. Then
at a signal fully ten thousand voices pealed out the

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 443
superb national anthem, " Kimiga yo" and concluded
it with three cheers for their Imperial Majesties, the
Emperor and Empress of Japan.
The Japanese do not shout or roar as we do when we
cheer. They chant. Each long cry is like the opening
tone of an immense musical chorus : A-a-a-a-OrO-a-a-a !
VI.
It is no small surprise to observe how botany,
geology, and other sciences are daily taught even in
this remotest part of old Japan. Plant physiology
and the nature of vegetable tissues are studied under
excellent microscopes, and in their relations to chem
istry ; and at regular intervals the instructor leads
his classes into the country to illustrate the lessons
of the term by examples taken from the flora of their
native place. Agriculture, taught by a graduate of
the famous Agricultural School at Sapporo, is practi
cally illustrated upon farms purchased and maintained
by the schools for purely educational ends. Each
series of lessons in geology is supplemented by visits
to the mountains about the lake, or to the tremendous
cliffs of the coast, where the students are taught to
familiarize themselves with forms of stratification
and the visible history of rocks. The basin of the
lake, and the country about Matsue, is physiographi-
cally studied, after the plans of instruction laid down
in Huxley's excellent manual. Natural History, too,
is taught according to the latest and best methods,
and with the help of the microscope. The results of
such teaching are sometimes surprising. I know of
one student, a lad of only sixteen, who voluntarily
collected and classified more than two hundred varie
ties of marine plants for a Tokyo professor. Another,

444 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
a youth of seventeen, wrote down for me in my note
book, without a work of reference at hand, and, as
I afterward discovered, almost without an omission
or error, a scientific list of all the butterflies to be
found in the neighborhood of the city,
vn.
Through the Minister of Public Instruction, Hia
Imperial Majesty has sent to all the great public
schools of the Empire a letter bearing date of the
thirteenth day of the tenth month of the twenty-third
year of Meiji. And the students and teachers of the
various schools assemble to hear the reading of the
Imperial Words on Education.
At eight o'clock we of the Middle School are all
waiting in our own assembly hall for the coming of
the Governor, who will read the Emperor's letter
in the various schools.
We wait but a little while. Then the Governor
comes with all the officers of the Kencho and the
chief men of the city. We rise to salute him : then
the national anthem is sung.
Then the Governor, ascending the platform, pro
duces the Imperial Missive, — a scroll of Chinese
manuscript sheathed in silk. He withdraws it slowly
from its woven envelope, lifts it reverentially to his
forehead, unrolls it, lifts it again to his forehead,
and after a moment's dignified pause begins in that
clear deep voice of his to read the melodious syllables
after the ancient way, which is like a chant : —
"GHO-KU-GU. Chin otnommiru ni waga koso koso
hdni wo. . . .
" We consider that the Founder of Our Empire and the

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 445
ancestors of Our Imperial House placed the foundation of
the country on a grand and permanent basis, and established
their authority on the principles of profound humanity and
benevolence. " That Our subjects have tliroughout ages deserved well of
the state by their loyalty and piety and by their harmonious
cobperation is in accordance with the essential character of
Our nation ; and on these very same principles Our educa
tion has been founded.
" You, Our subjects, be therefore filial to your parents ; be
affectionate to your brothers ; be harmonious as husbands and
wives ; and be faithful to your friends ; conduct yourselves
with propriety and carefulness ; extend generosity and benev
olence towards your neighbors ; attend to your studies and
follow your pursuits ; cultivate your intellects and elevate
your morals ; advance public benefits and promote social
interests ; be always found in the good observance of the
laws and constitution of the land ; display your personal
courage and pubUc spirit for the sake of the country when
ever required ; and thus support the Imperial prerogative,
which is coexistent with the Heavens and the Earth.
" Such conduct on your part will not only strengthen the
character of Our good and loyal subjects, but conduce also
to the maintenance of the fame of your worthy forefathers.
" This is the instruction bequeathed by Our ancestors and
to be foUowed by Our subjects ; for it is the truth which has
guided and guides them in their own affairs and in their
dealings towards aliens.
" We hope, therefore, We and Our subjects will regard
these sacred precepts with one and the same heart in order
to attain the same ends." *
1 I take the above translation from a Tokyo educational journal,
entitled The Museum. The original document, however, was im
pressive to A degree that perhaps no translation eould give. The
Chinese words by which the Emperor refers to himself and his wiU
are far more impressive than our Western " We " or " Our ; " and the
words relating to duties, virtues, wisdom, and other matters are words

446 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Then the Governor and the Head-master speak a
few words, — dwelling upon the full significance of
His Imperial Majesty's august commands, and ex
horting all to remember and to obey them to the
uttermost. After which the students have a holiday, to enable
them the better to recollect what they have heard.
vm.
All teaching in the modern Japanese system of
education is conducted with the utmost kindness and
gentleness. The teacher is a teacher only: he is
not, in the English sense of mastery, a master. He
stands to his pupils in the relation of an elder brother.
He never tries to impose his will upon them : he
never scolds, he seldom criticises, he scarcely ever
punishes. No Japanese teacher ever strikes a pupil:
such an act would cost him his. post at once. He
never loses his temper: to do so would disgrace
him in the eyes of his boys and in the judgment
of his colleagues. Practically speaking, there is no
punishment in Japanese schools. Sometimes very
mischievous lads are kept in the schoolhouse during
recreation time ; yet even this light penalty is not
inflicted directly by the teacher, but by the director of
the school on complaint of the teacher. The purpose
in such cases is not to inflict pain by deprivation of
enjoyment, but to give public illustration of a fault ;
and in the great majority of instances, consciousness
of the fault thus brought home to a lad before hia
comrades is quite enough to prevent its repetition.
that evoke in a Japanese mind ideas which only those who know Jap
anese life perfectly can appreciate, and which, though variant from
our own, are neither less beautiful nor less sacred.

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 447
No such cruel pnnition as that of forcing a dull pupil
to learn an additional task, or of sentencing him to
strain his eyes copying four or five hundred lines, is
ever dreamed of. Nor would such forms of punish
ment, in the present state of things, be long tolerated
by the pupils themselves. The general policy of the
educational authorities everywhere throughout the
empire is to get rid of students who cannot be per
fectly well managed without punishment; and ex
pulsions, nevertheless, are rare.
I often see a pretty spectacle on my way home
from the school, when I take the short cut through
the castle grounds. A class of about thirty little
boys, in kimono and sandals, bareheaded, being
taught to march and to sing by a handsome young
teacher, also in Japanese dress. While they sing,
they are drawn up in line ; and keep time with their
little bare feet. The teacher has a pleasant high
clear tenor: he stands at one end of the rank and
sings a single line of the song. Then all the children
sing it after him. Then he sings a second line, and
they repeat it. If any mistakes are made, they have
to sing the verse again.
It is the Song of Kusunoki Masashig^, noblest of
Japanese heroes and patriots. IX.
I have said that severity on the part of teachers
would scarcely be tolerated by the students them
selves, — a fact which may sound strange to English
or American ears. Tom Brown's school does not
exist in Japan ; the ordinary public school much
more resembles the ideal Italian institution so charm-

448 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
ingly painted for us in the " Cuore " of De Amicis.
Japanese students furthermore claim and enjoy an
independence contrary to all Occidental ideas of
disciplinary necessity. In the Occident the master
expels the pupil. In Japan it happens quite as often
that the pupil expels the master. Each public school
is an earnest, spirited little republic, to which director
and teachers stand only in the relation of president
and cabinet. They are indeed appointed by the pre
fectural government upon recommendation by the
Educational Bureau at the capital; but in actual
practice they maintain their positions by virtue of
tiieir capacity and personal character as estimated
by their students, and are likely to be deposed by a
revolutionary movement whenever found wanting.
It has been alleged that the students frequently
abuse their power. But this allegation has been
made by European residents, strongly prejudiced in
favor of masterful English ways of discipline. (I
recollect that an English Yokohama paper, in this
connection, advocated the introduction of the birch.)
My own observations bave convinced me, as larger
experience has convinced some others, that in most
instances of pupils rebelling against a teacher, reason
is upon their side. They will rarely insult a teacher
whom they dislike, or cause any disturbance in his
class : they will simply refuse to attend school until
he be removed. Personal feeling may often be a
secondary, but it is seldom, so far as I have been able
to learn, the primary cause for such a demand. A
teacher whose manners are unsympathetic, or even
positively disagreeable, will be nevertheless obeyed
and revered while his students remain persuaded of
his capacity as a teacher, and his sense of justice;

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 449
and they are as keen to discern ability as they are to
detect partiality. And, on the other hand, an ami
able disposition alone will never atone with them
either for want of knowledge or for want of skill
to impart it. I knew one case, in a neighboring
public school, of a demand by the students for the
removal of their professor of chemistry. In making
their complaint, they frankly declared : " We like
him. He is kind to all of us ; he does the best he
can. But he does not know enough to teach us as
we wish to be taught. He cannot answer our ques
tions. He cannot explain the experiments which he
shows us. Our former teacher could do all these
things. We must have another teacher." Investi
gation proved that the lads were quite right. The
young teacher had graduated at the university ; he
had come well recommended : but he had no thorough
knowledge of the science which he undertook to im
part, and no experience as a teacher. The instructor's
success in Japan is not guaranteed by a degree, but
by his practical knowledge and his capacity to com
municate it simply and thoroughly. X. November 3, 1890.
To-day is the birthday of His Majesty the Em
peror. It is a public holiday throughout Japan ; and
there will be no teaching this morning. But at eight
o'clock all the students and instructors enter the
great assembly hall of the Jinjo Chiigakko to honor
the anniversary of His Majesty's august birth.
On the platform of the assembly hall a table, cov
ered with dark silk, has been placed ; and upon this
table the portraits of Their Imperial Majesties, the

450 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.

Emperor and the Empress of Japan, stand side by
side upright, framed in gold. The alcove above the
platform has been decorated with flags and wreaths.
Presently the Governor enters, looking like a
French general in his gold-embroidered uniform of
office, and followed by the Mayor of the city, the
Chief Military Officer, the Chief of Police, and all
the officials of the provincial government. These
take their places in silence to left and right of the
platform. Then the school organ suddenly rolls out
the slow, solemn, beautiful national anthem; and
all present chant those ancient syllables, made sacred
by the reverential love of a century of generations : —
Ki-mi gora y(H> wa
Chi-yo ni-i-i ya-chi-yo ni sa-za<-i
I-shi no
I-wa 0 to na-ri-te Ko-ke no
Mu^ su-u ma-a-a-d^?-
Adagio.

¥

^i

#

=5=3t

-f-rr

-8- -W- ^ — f-

mf

3=^

^

^F

1 Kimi ga yo wa chiyo ni yachiyo ni sazare ishi no iwa o to narite
oke no musu made. Freely translated : " May Our Gracious Sover
eign reign a thousand years, — reign ten thousand thousand years, —
reign till the little stone grow into a mighty rock, thick-velveted with
ancient moss ! "

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 451

The anthem ceases. The Governor advances with
a slow dignified step from the right side of the apart
ment to the centre of the open space before the plat
form and the portraits of Their Majesties, turns his
face to them, and bows profoundly. Then he takes
three steps forward toward the platform, and halts,
and bows again. Then he takes three more steps
forward, and bows still more profoundly. Then he
retires, walking backward six steps, and bows once
more. Then he returns to his place.
After this the teachers, by parties of six, perform
the same beautiful ceremony. When all have saluted
the portrait of His Imperial Majesty, the Governor
ascends the platform and makes a few eloquent
remarks to the students about their duty to their
Emperor, to their country, and to their teachers.
Then the anthem is sung again ; and all disperse to
amuse themselves for the rest of the day.
XI. March 1, 1891.
The majority of the students of the Jinjo Chii
gakko are day-scholars only (externes, as we would
say in France) : they go to school in the morning,
take their noon meal at home, and return at one
o'clock to attend the brief afternoon classes. All the
city students live with their own families ; but there
are many boys from remote country districts who have
no city relatives, and for such the school furnishes

452 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
boarding-houses, where a wholesome moral discipline
is maintained by special masters. They are free,
however, if they have sufficient means, to choose
another boarding-house (provided it be a respectable
one), or to find quarters in some good family ; but
few adopt either course.
I doubt whether in any other country the cost of
education — education of the most excellent and ad
vanced kind — is so little as in Japan. The Izumo
student is able to live at a figure so far below the
Occidental idea of necessary expenditure that the
mere statement of it can scarcely fail to surprise the
reader. A sum equal in American money to about
twenty dollars supplies him with board and lodging
for one year. The whole of his expenses, including
school fees, are about seven dollars a month. For
his room and three ample meals a day he pays every
four weeks only one yen eighty-five sen, — not much
more than a dollar and a half in American currency.
If very, very poor, he will not be obliged to wear a
uniform ; but nearly all students of the higher classes
do wear uniforms, as the cost of a complete uniform,
including cap and shoes of leather, is only about
three and a half yen for the cheaper quality. Those
who do not wear leather shoes, however, are required,
while in the school, to exchange their noisy wooden
geta for zori or light straw sandals.
xn.
But the mental education so admirably imparted in
an ordinary middle school is not, after all, so cheaply
acquired by the student as might be imagined from
the cost of living and the low rate of school fees.
For Nature exacts a heavier school fee, and rigidly
collects her debt — in human life.

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 453
To understand why, one should remember that
the modern knowledge which the modern Izumo stu
dent must acquire upon a diet of boiled rice and
bean-curd was discovered, developed, and synthetized
by minds strengthened upon a costly diet of flesh.
National underfeeding offers the most cruel problem
which the educators of Japan must solve in order
that she may become fully able to assimilate the
civilization we have thrust upon her. As Herbert
Spencer has pointed out, the degree of human energy,
physical or intellectual, must depend upon the nutri-
tiveness of food ; and history shows that the well-fed
races have been the energetic and the dominant.
Perhaps mind will rule in the future of nations ; but
mind is a mode of force, and must be fed — through
the stomach. The thoughts that have shaken the
world were never framed upon bread and water:
they were created by beefsteak and mutton-chops, by
ham and eggs, by pork and puddings, and were
stimulated by generous wines, strong ales, and strong
coffee. And science also teaches us that the growing
child or youth requires an even more nutritious diet
than the adult ; and that the student especially needs
strong nourishment to repair the physical waste
involved by brain-exertion.
And what is the waste entailed upon the Japanese
schoolboy's system by study ? It is certainly greater
than that which the system of the European or
American student must suffer at the same period of
life. Seven years of study are required to give the
Japanese youth merely the necessary knowledge of
his own triple system of ideographs, — or, in less ac
curate but plainer speech, the enormous alphabet of
ids native literature. That literature, also, he muat

454 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
study, and the art of two forms of his language, — .
the written and the spoken : likewise, of course, he
must learn native history and native morals. Besides
these Oriental studies, his course includes foreign
history, geography, arithmetic, astronomy, physics,
geometry, natural history, agriculture, chemistry,
drawing, and mathematics. Worst of all, he must
learn English, — a language of which the difficulty
to the Japanese cannot be even faintly imagined by
any one unfamiliar with the construction of the native
tongue, — a language so different from his own that
the very simplest Japanese phrase cannot be intelli
gibly rendered into English by a literal translation
of the words or even the form of the thought. And
he must learn all this upon a diet no English boy
could live on ; and always thinly clad in his poor
cotton dress without even a fire in his schoolroom
during the terrible winter, only a hibachi containing
a few lumps of glowing charcoal in a bed of ashes.^
Is it to be wondered at that even those Japanese
students who pass successfully through all the educa
tional courses the Empire can open to them can only
in rare instances show results of their long training
as large as those manifested by students of the West ?
Better conditions are coming ; but at present, under
the new strain, young bodies and young minds too
often give way. And those who break down are not
the dullards, but the pride of schools, the captains of

1 Stoves, however, are being introduced. In the higher government
schools, and in the Normal Schools, the students who are boarders ob
tain a better diet than most poor boys can get at home. Their rooms
are also well warmed.

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 455
xin.
Yet, so far as the finances of the schools allow,
everything possible is done to make the students
both healtiiy and happy, — to furnish them with
ample opportunities both for physical exercise and
for mental enjoyment. Though the course of study
is severe, the hours are not long : and one of the daily
five is devoted to military drill, — made more inter
esting to the lads by the use of real rifles and bay
onets, furnished by government. There is a fine
gymnastic ground near the school, furnished with
trapezes, parallel bars, vaulting horses, etc. ; and
there are two masters of gymnastics attached to the
Middle School alone. There are row-boats, in which
the boys can take their pleasure on the beautiful lake
whenever the weather permits. There is an excel
lent fencing-school conducted by the Governor him
self, who, although so heavy a man, is reckoned one
of the best fencers of his own generation. The style
taught is the old one, requiring the use of both hands
to wield the sword ; thrusting is little attempted,
it is nearly all heavy slashing. The foils are made
of long splinters of bamboo tied together so as to
form something resembling elongated fasces : masks
and wadded coats protect the head and body, for the
blows given are heavy. This sort of fencing requires
considerable agility, and gives more active exercise
than our severer Western styles. Yet another form
of healthy exercise consists of long journeys on foot
to famous places. Special holidays are allowed for
these. The students march out of town in military
order, accompanied by some of their favorite teachers,
and perhaps a servant to cook for them. Thus they

456 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
may travel for a hundred, or even a hundred and
fifty miles and back ; but if the journey is to be a
very long one, only the strong lads are allowed to go.
They walk in waraji, the true straw sandal, closely
tied to the naked foot, which it leaves perfectly supple
and free, without blistering or producing corns. They
sleep at night in Buddhist temples ; and their cook
ing is done in the open fields, like that of soldiers
in camp.
For those little inclined to such sturdy exercise
there is a school library which is growing every
year. There is also a monthly school magazine,
edited and published by the boys. And there is a
Students' Society, at whose regular meetings debates
are held upon all conceivable subjects of interest to
students. XIV. April 4, 1891.
The students of the third, fourth, and fifth year
classes write for me once a week brief English com
positions upon easy themes which I select for them.
As a rule the themes are Japanese. Considering the
immense difficulty of the English language to Japa
nese students, the ability of some of my boys to
express their thoughts in it is astonishing. Their
compositions have also another interest for me as rev
elations, not of individual character, but of national
sentiment, or of aggregate sentiment of some sort or
other. What seems to me most surprising in the
compositions of the average Japanese student is that
they have no personal cachet at all. Even the hand
writing of twenty English compositions will be found
to have a curious family resemblance ; and striking
exceptions are too few to affect the rule. Here is

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 457
one of the best compositions on my table, by a stu
dent at the head of his class. Only a few idiomatic
errors have been corrected : —
"the moon.
"The Moon appears melancholy to those who are sad,
and joyous to those who are happy. The Moon makes
memories of home come to those who travel, and creates
homesickness. So when the Emperor Godaigo, having been
banished to Oki by the traitor Hojo, beheld the moonlight
upon the seashore, he cried out, ' Tlie Moon is heartless ! '
" The sight of the Moon makes an immeannrable feeling
in our hearts when we look up at it through tlie clear air of
a beauteous night.
" Our hearts ought to be pure and calm like the light of
the Moon.
" Poets often compare the Moon to a Japanese [metal]
mirror (kagami) ; and indeed its shape is the same when it
is f uU.
" The refined man amuses himself with the Moon. He
seeks some house looking out upon water, to watch the
Moon, and to make verses about it.
" The best places from which to see the Moon are Tsuki-
gashi, and the mountain Obasute.
" The light of the Moon shines alike upon foul and pure,
upon high and low. That beautiful Lamp is neither yours
nor mine, but everybody's.
" When we look at the Moon we should remember that
its waxing and its waning are the signs of the truth that the
culmination of all things is likewise the beginning of their
decline." Any person totally unfamiliar with Japanese edu
cational methods might presume that the foregoing
composition shows some original power of thought
and imagination. But this is not the case. I found
the same thoughts and comparisons in thirty other

458 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
compositions upon the same subject. Indeed, the
compositions of any number of middle-school students
upon the same subject are certain to be very much
alike in idea and sentiment — though they are none
the less charming for that. As a rule the Japanese
student shows little originality in the line of imagina
tion. His imagination was made for him long cen^
turies ago — partly in China, partly in his native
land. From his childhood he is trained to see and to
feel Nature exactly in the manner of those wondrous
artists who, with a few swift brush-strokes, fling
down upon a sheet of paper the color-sensation of
a chilly dawn, a fervid noon, an autumn evening.
Through all his boyhood he is taught to commit to
memory the most beautiful thoughts and comparisons
to be found in his ancient native literature. Every
boy has thus learned that the vision of Fuji against
the blue resembles a white half-opened fan, hanging
inverted in the sky. Every boy knows that cherrj'-
trees in full blossom look as if the most delicate of
flushed summer clouds were caught in their branches.
Every boy knows the comparison between the falling
of certain leaves on snow and the casting down of
texts upon a sheet of white paper with a brush.
Every boy and girl knows the verses comparing the
print of cat's-feet on snow to plum-flowers,^ and that
comparing the impression of bokkuri on snow to the
Japanese character for the number " two." ^ These
were thoughts of old, old poets; and it would be
very hard to invent prettier ones. Artistic power in
1 Hachi yuki ya
Neko no aslii ato
Ume no hana.
^ Ni no jifumi dasu
Bokkuri ''cana.

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 459
composition is chiefly shown by the correct memoriz
ing and clever combination of these old thoughts.
And the students have been equally well trained
to discover a moral in almost everything, animate or
inanimate. I have tried them with a hundred sub
jects — Japanese subjects — for composition ; I have
never found them to fail in discovering a moral when
the theme was a native one. If I suggested " Fire
flies," they at once approved the topic, and wrote for
me the story of that Chinese student who, being too
poor to pay for a lamp, imprisoned many fireflies in
a paper lantern, and thus was able to obtain light
enough to study after dark, and to become eventually
a great scholar. If I said " Frogs," they wrote for
me the legend of Ono-no-Tofu, who was persuaded
to become a learned celebrity by witnessing the tire
less perseverance of a frog trying to leap up to a
willow-branch. I subjoin a few specimens of the
moral ideas which I thus evoked. I have corrected
some common mistakes in the originals, but have
suffered a few singularities to stand : —
"the botan.
" The botan [Japanese peony] is large and beautiful to
see ; but it has a disagreeable smell. This should make us
remember that what is only outwardly beautiful in human
society should not attract us. To be attracted by beauty
only mm) lead, us into fearful and fatal misfortune. The
best place to see the botan is the island of Daikonshima in
the lake Nakaumi. There in the season of its flowering all
the island is red with its blossoms."
"the dkagon.
"When the Dragon tries to ride the clouds and come
into heaven there happens immediately a furious storm.

460 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
When the Dragon dwells on the ground it is supposed to
take the form of a stone or other object ; but when it wants
to rise it calls a cloud. Its body is composed of parts of
many animals. It has the eyes of a tiger and the horns of
a deer and the body of a crocodile and the claws of an eagle
and two trunks like the trunk of an elephant. It has a
moral. We should try to be like the dragon, and jind out
and adopt all the good qualities of others."
At the close of this essay on the dragon is a note
to the teacher, saying : " I believe not there is any
Dragon. But there are many stories and curious
pictures about Dragon." " MOSQUITOES.
" On summer nights we hear the sound of faint voices ;
and little things come and sting our bodies very violently.
We call them ka, — in English ' mosquitoes.' I think the
sting is useful for us, because if we begin to sleep, the ka
shall come and sting us, uttering a small voice ; — then we
shall be bringed back to study by the sting."
The following, by a lad of sixteen, is submitted
only as a characteristic expression of half-formed
ideas about a less familiar subject.
"EUEOPEAU' Al^D JAPANESE CUSTOMS.
"Europeans wear very narrow clothes and they wear
shoes always in the house. Japanese wear clothes which
are very lenient and they do not shoe except when they
walk out-of-the-door.
"What we think very strange is that in Europe every
wife loves her husband more than her parents. In Nippon
there is no wife who more loves not her parents than her
husband. " And Europeans walk out in the road with their wives,
which we utterly refuse to, except on the festival of Hachir
man.

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 461
" The Japanese woman is treated by man as a servant,
while the European woman is respected as a master. I
think these customs are both bad.
" We think it is very much trouble to treat European
ladies ; and we do not know why ladies are so much re
spected by Europeans."
Conversation in the class-room about foreign sub
jects is often equally amusing and suggestive : —
" Teacher, I have been told that if a European
and his father and his wife were all to fall into the
sea together, and that he only could swim, he would
try to save his wife first. Would he really ? "
" Probably," I reply.
" But why ? "
" One reason is that Europeans consider it a man's
duty to help the weaker first — especially women
and children."
" And does a European love his wife more than his
father and mother ? "
" Not always — but generally, perhaps, he does."
" Why, Teacher, according to our ideas that is
very immoral."
..." Teacher, how do European women carry
their babies ? "
" In their arms."
"Very tiring! And how far can a woman walk
carrying a baby in her arms ? "
" A strong woman can walk many miles with a
child in her arms."
" But she cannot use her hands while she is carry
ing a baby that way, can she? "
" Not very well."
" Then it is a very bad way to carry babies," etc.

462 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.

XV.
May 1, 1891.
My favorite students often visit me of afternoons.
They first send me their cards, to announce their
presence. On being told to come in they leave their
footgear on the doorstep, enter my little study, pros
trate themselves; and we all squat down together
on the floor, which is in all Japanese houses like a
soft mattress. The servant brings zabuton or small
cushions to kneel upon, and cakes, and tea.
To sit as the Japanese do requires practice; and
some Europeans can never acquire the habit. To
acquire it, indeed, one must become accustomed to
wearing Japanese costume. But once the habit of
thus sitting has been formed, one finds it the most
natural and easy of positions, and assumes it by pref
erence for eating, reading, smoking, or chatting. It
is not to be recommended, perhaps, for writing with
a European pen, — as the motion in our Occidental
style of writing is from the supported wrist ; but it is
the best posture for writing with the Japanese fude,
in using which the whole arm is unsupported, and the
motion from the elbow. After having become habit
uated to Japanese habits for more than a year, I
must confess that I find it now somewhat irksome to
use a chair.
When we have all greeted each other, and taken
our places upon the kneeling cushions, a little polite
silence ensues, which I am the first to break. Some
of the lads speak a good deal of English. They
understand me well when I pronounce every word
slowly and distinctly, — using simple phrases, and
avoiding idioms. When a word with which they are

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 463
not familiar must be used, we refer to a good English-
Japanese dictionary, which gives each vernacular
meaning both in the kana and in the Chinese char
acters. Usually my young visitors stay a long time, and their
stay is rarely tiresome. Their conversation and their
thoughts are of the simplest and frankest. They
do not come to learn : they know that to ask their
teacher to teach out of school would be unjust. They
speak chiefly of things which they think have some
particular interest for me. Sometimes they scarcely
speak at all, but appear to sink into a sort of happy
reverie. What they come really for is the quiet pleas
ure of sympathy. Not an intellectual sympathy, but
the sympathy of pure good-will : the simple pleasure
of being quite comfortable with a friend. They peep
at my books and pictures ; and sometimes they bring
books and pictures to show me, — delightfully queer
things, — family heirlooms which I regret much that
I cannot buy. They also like to look at my garden,
and enjoy all that is in it even more than I. Often
they bring me gifts of flowers. Never by any possible
chance are they troublesome, impolite, curious, or
even talkative. Courtesy in its utmost possible ex
quisiteness — an exquisiteness of which even the
French have no conception — seems natural to the
Izumo boy as the color of his hair or the tint of
his skin. Nor is he less kind than courteous. To
contrive pleasurable surprises for me is one of the
particular delights of my boys ; and they either
bring or cause to be brought to the house all sorts
of strange things.
Of all the strange or beautiful things whioh I am
thus privileged to examine, none gives me so much

464 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
pleasure as a certain wonderful kakemono of Amida
Nyorai. It is rather a large picture, and has been
borrowed from a priest that I may see it. The Bud
dha stands in tbe attitude of exhortation, with one
hand uplifted. Behind his head a huge moon makes
an aureole ; and across the face of that moon stream
winding lines of thinnest cloud. Beneath his feet,
like a rolling of smoke, curl heavier and darker clouds.
Merely as a work of color and design, the thing is a
marvel. But the real wonder of it is not in color or
design at all. Minute examination reveals the aston
ishing fact that every shadow and clouding is formed
by a fairy text of Chinese characters so minute that
only a keen eye can discern them ; and this text is
the entire text of two famed sutras, — the Kwammu-
ryo-ju-kyo and the Amida-kyo, — "text no larger
than the limbs of fleas." And all the strong dark
lines of the figure, such as the seams of the Buddha's
robe, are formed by the characters of the holy invo
cation of the Shin-shii sect, repeated thousands of
times : " Namu Amida Butsu ! " Infinite patience,
tireless silent labor of loving faith, in some dim
temple, long ago.
Another day one of my boys persuades his father
to let him bring to my house a wonderful statue of
Koshi (Confucius), made, I am told, in China, toward
the close of the period of the Ming dynasty. I am
also assured it is the first time the statue bas ever
been removed from tbe family residence to be shovsTi
to any one. Previously, whoever desired to pay it
reverence had to visit the house. It is truly a beau
tiful bronze. The figure of a smihng, bearded old
man, with fingers uplifted and lips apart as if dis-

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 465
coursing. He wears quaint Chinese shoes, and his
flowing robes are adorned with the figure of the mys
tic phoenix. The microscopic finish of detail seems
indeed to reveal the wonderful cunning of a Chinese
hand : each tooth, each hair, looks as though it had
been made the subject of a special study.
Another student conducts me to the home of one
of his relatives, that I may see a cat made of wood,
said to have been chiseled by tbe famed Hidari Jin-
goro, — a cat crouching and watching, and so lifelike
that real cats " have been known to put up their
backs and spit at it." XVI.
Nevertheless I have a private conviction that some
old artists even now living in Matsue could make a
still more wonderful cat. Among these is the vener
able Arakawa Junosuke, who wrought many rare
things for the Daimyo of Izumo in the Tempo era,
and whose acquaintance I have been enabled to
make through my school -friends. One evening he
brings to my house something very odd to show me,
concealed in his sleeve. It is a doll : just a small
carven and painted head without a body, — the body
being represented by a tiny robe only, attached to
the neck. Yet as Arakawa Junosuke manipulates
it, it seems to become alive. The back of its head is
like the back of a very old man's head ; but its face
is the face of an amused child, and there is scarcely
any forehead nor any evidence of a thinking dispo
sition. And whatever way the head is turned, it
looks so funny that one cannot help laughing at
it. It represents a kirakubo, — what we might call
in English " a jolly old boy," — one who is naturally
too hearty and too innocent to feel trouble of any

466 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
sort. It is not an original, but a model of a very
famous original, — whose history is recorded in a
faded scroll which Arakawa takes out of his other
sleeve, and which a friend translates for me. This
little history throws a curious light upon the simple-
hearted ways of Japanese life and thought in other
centuries : —
" Two hundred and sixty years ago this doll was made
by a famous maker of iVb-masks in the city of Kyoto, for
the Emperor Go-midzu-no-0. The Emperor used to have
it placed beside his piUow each night before he slept, and
was very fond of it. And he composed the foUowing poem
concerning it : — Yo no naka wo
Kiraku ni kurase
Nani goto mo
Omoeba omou
Omowaneba koso.^
" On the death of the Emperor this doU became the prop
erty of Prince Konoye, in whose family it is said to be stUI
preserved. " About one hundred and seven years ago, the then Ex-
Empress, whose posthumous name is Sei-Kwa-Mon-Yin, bor
rowed the doll from Prince Konoye, and ordered a copy of
it to be made. This copy she kept always beside her, and
was very fond of it.
" After the death of the good Empress this doU was given
to a lady of the court, whose family name is not recorded.
Afterwards this lady, for reasons which are not known, cut
off her hair and became a Buddhist nun, — taking the name
of Shingyo-in.
" And one who knew the Nun Shingyo-in, — a man whose
name was Kondo-ju-haku-in-Hokyo, — had the honor of
receiving the doU as a gift.
^ This little poem signifies that whoever in this world thinks much,
must have care, and that not to think about things is to pass one's
life in untroubled felicity.

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 467
" Now I, who write this document, at one time fell sick ;
and my sickness was caused by despondency. And my
friend Kondo-ju-haku-in-Hokyo, coming to see me, said :
' I have in my house something which will make you well.'
And he went home and, presently returning, brought to me
this doll, and lent it to me, — putting it by my piUow that
I might see it and laugh at it.
"Afterward, I myself, having caUed upon the Nun
Shingyo-in, whom I now also have the honor to know, wrote
down the history of the doll, and made a poem thereupon."
(Dated about ninety years ago : no signature.)
xvn,
June 1, 1891.
I find among the students a healthy tone of skep-
ticism in regard to certain forms of popular belief.
Scientific education is rapidly destroying credulity in
old superstitions yet current among the unlettered,
and especially among the peasantry, — as, for in
stance, faith in mamori and ofuda. The outward
forms of Buddhism — its images, its relics, its com
moner practices — affect the average student very lit
tle. He is not, as a foreigner may be, interested in
iconography, or religious folk-lore, or the comparative
study of religions ; and in nine cases out of ten he is
rather ashamed of the signs and tokens of popular
faith all around him. But the deeper religious sense,
which underlies all symbolism, remains with him;
and the Monistic Idea in Buddhism is being strength
ened and expanded, rather than weakened, by the
new education. What is true of the effect of the
public schools upon the lower Buddhism is equally
true of its effect upon the lower Shinto. Shinto the
students all sincerely are, or very nearly all ; yet not
as fervent worshipers of certain Kami, but as rigid

468 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
observers of what the higher Shinto signifies, — ley-
alty, filial piety, obedience to parents, teachers, and
superiors, and respect to ancestors. For Shinto
means more than faith.
When, for the first time, I stood before the shrine
of the Great Deity of Kitzuki, as the first Occidental
to whom that privilege had been accorded, not with
out a sense of awe there came to me the thought:
?' This is the Shrine of the Father of a Race ; this
is the symbolic centre of a nation's reverence for its
past." And I, too, paid reverence to the memory of
the progenitor of this people.
As I then felt, so feels the intelligent student of
the Meiji era whom education has lifted above the
common plane of popular creeds. And Shinto also
means for him — whether he reasons upon the ques
tion or not — all the ethics of the family, and all that
spirit of loyalty which has become so innate that, at
the call of duty, life itself ceases to have value save as
an instrument for duty's accomplishment. As yet,
this Orient little needs to reason about the origin of
its loftier ethics. Imagine the musical sense in our
own race so developed that a child could play a com
plicated instrument so soon as the little fingers gained
sufficient force and flexibility to strike the notes. By
some such comparison only can one obtain a just idea
of what inherent religion and instinctive duty signify
in Izumo.
Of the rude and aggressive form of skepticism so
common in the Occident, which is the natural reac
tion after sudden emancipation from superstitious be
lief, I find no trace among my students. But such
sentiment may be found elsewhere, — especially in
Tokyo, — among the university students, one of

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 469
whom, upon hearing the tones of a magnificent
temple bell, exclaimed to a friend of mine: "is it
not a shame that in this nineteenth century we must
still hear such a sound?"
For the benefit of curious travelers, however, I
may here take occasion to observe that to talk Bud
dhism to Japanese gentlemen of the new school is in
just as bad taste as to talk Christianity at home to
men of that class whom knowledge has placed above
creeds and forms. There are, of course, Japanese
scholars willing to aid researches of foreign scholars
in religion or in folk-lore ; but these specialists do not
undertake to gratify idle curiosity of the "globe
trotting " description. I may also say that the for
eigner desirous to learn the religious ideas or super
stitions of the common people must obtain them
from the people themselves, — not from the educated
classes. xvin.
Among all my favorite students — two or three
from each class — I cannot decide whom I like the
best. Each has a particular merit of his own. But
I think the names and faces of those of whom I am
about to speak will longest remain vivid in my re
membrance, — Ishihara, Otani - Masanobu, Adzuki-
zawa, Yokogi, Shida.
Ishihara is a samurai, a very influential lad in
his class because of his uncommon force of character.
Compared with others, he has a somewhat brusque,
independent manner, pleasing, however, by its hon
est manliness. He says everything he thinks, and
precisely in the tone that he thinks it, even to the
degree of being a little embarrassing sometimes. He

470 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
does not hesitate, for example, to find fault with a
teacher's method of explanation, and to insist upon
a more lucid one. He has criticised me more than
once; but I never found that he was wrong. We
like each other very much. He often brings me
flowers. One day that he had brought two beautiful sprays
of plum-blossoms, he said to me : —
" I saw you bow before our Emperor's picture at
the ceremony on the birthday of His Majesty. You
are not like a former English teacher we had,"
"How?"" He said we were savages."
"Why?"
" He said there is nothing respectable except God,
— his God, — and that only vulgar and ignorant peo
ple respect anything else,"
" Where did he come from ? "
" He was a Christian clergyman, and said he was
an English subject."
" But if he was an English subject, he was bound
to respect Her Majesty the Queen. He could not even
enter the office of a British consul without removing
his hat,"
"I don't know what he did in the country be came
from. But that was what he said. Now we think
we should love and honor our Emperor. We think
it is a duty. We think it is a joy. We think it is
happiness to be able to give our lives for our
Emperor,^ But he said we were only savages —
ignorant savages. What do you think of that ? "
1 Having asked in various classes for written answers to the quea
tion, " What is your dearest wish ? " I found about twenty per cent.
of the replies expressed, with little variation of words, the simpk

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 471
" I think, my dear lad, that he himself was a sav
age, — a vulgar, ignorant, savage bigot. I think it
is your highest social duty to honor your Emperor,
to obey his laws, and to be ready to give your blood
whenever he may require it of you for the sake of
Japan. I think it is your duty to respect the goda
of your fathers, the religion of your country, — even
if you yourself cannot believe all that others believe.
And I think, also, that it is your duty, for your
Emperor's sake and for your country's sake, to resent
any such wicked and vulgar language as that you
have told me of, no matter by whom uttered."
Masanobu visits me seldom and always comes
alone. A slender, handsome lad, with rather femi
nine features, reserved and perfectly self-possessed
in manner, refined. He is somewhat serious, does
not often smile ; and I never heard him laugh. He
has risen to the head of his class, and appears to
remain there without any extraordinary effort. Much
of his leisure time he devotes to botany — collecting
and classifying plants. He is a musician, like all
the male members of his family. He plays a variety
of instruments never seen or heard of in the West,
including flutes of marble, flutes of ivory, flutes of
bamboo of wonderful shapes and tones, and that
shrill Chinese instrument called sho, — a sort of
mouth-organ consisting of seventeen tubes of differ
ent lengths fixed in a silver frame. He first ex
plained to me the uses in temple music of the taiko
desire to die "for His Sacred Majesty, Our Beloved Emperor." But
a considerable proportion of the remainder contained the same aspi
ration, less directly stated in the wish to emulate the glory of Nelson,
or to make Japan first among nations by heroism and sacrifice.
While this splendid spirit lives in the hearts of her youth, Japan
should have little to fear for the future.
VOL. II.

472 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
and shoko, which are drums; of the flutes called
fei or teki; of the flageolet termed hichiriki; and
of the kakko, which is a little drum shaped like a
spool with very narrow waist. On great Buddhist
festivals, Masanobu and his father and his brothers
are the musicians in the temple services, and they
play the strange music called Ojo and Batto, — music
which at first no Western ear can feel pleasure in,
but which, when often heard, becomes comprehensi
ble, and is found to possess a weird charm of its own.
When Masanobu comes to the house, it is usually
in order to invite me to attend some Buddhist or
Shinto festival (matsuri) which he knows will inter
est me.
Adzukizawa bears so little resemblance to Masa
nobu that one might suppose the two belonged to
totally different races. Adzukizawa is large, raw-
boned, heavy-looking, with a face singularly like that
of a North American Indian. His people are not
rich; he can afford few pleasures which cost money,
except one, — buying books. Even to be able to do
this he works in his leisure hours to earn money. He
is a perfect bookworm, a natural-born researcher, a
collector of curious documents, a haunter of all the
queer second-hand stores in Teramachi and other
streets where old manuscripts or prints are on sale as
waste paper. He is an omnivorous reader, and a per
petual borrower of volumes, which he always returns
in perfect condition after having copied what he
deemed of most value to him. But his special
delight is philosophy and the history of philosophers
in all countries. He has read various epitomes of
the history of philosophy in the Occident, and every
thing of modern philosophy which has been trans-

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 473
lated into Japanese, — including Spencer's " First
Principles." I have been able to introduce him to
Lewes and John Fiske, — both of which he appreci
ates, — although the strain of studying philosophy in
English is no small one. Happily he is so strong that
no amount of study is likely to injure his health, and
his nerves are tough as wire. He is quite an ascetic
withal. As it is the Japanese custom to set cakes
and tea before visitors, I always have both in readi
ness, and an especially fine quality of kwashi, made
at Kitzuki, of which the students are very fond. Ad-
zukizawa alone refuses to taste cakes or confection
ery of any kind, saying : " As I am the youngest
brother, I must begin to earn my own living soon,
I shall have to endure much hardship. And if I
allow myself to like dainties now, I shall only suffer
more later on." Adzukizawa has seen much of hu
man life and character. He is naturally observant ;
and he has managed in some extraordinary way to
learn the history of everybody in Matsue. He has
brought me old tattered prints to prove that the
opinions now held by our director are diametrically
opposed to the opinions he advocated fourteen years
ago in a public address. I asked the director about
it. He laughed and said, " Of course that is Adzu
kizawa ! But he is right : I was very young then."
And I wonder if Adzukizawa was ever young.
Yokogi, Adzukizawa's dearest friend, is a very rare
visitor ; for he is always studying at home. He ia
always first in his class, — the third year class, —
while Adzukizawa is fourth. Adzukizawa's account
of the beginning of their acquaintance is this : " I
watched him when he came and saw that he spoke
Very little, walked very quickly, and looked straight

474 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
into everybody's eyes. So I knew he had a particular
character. I like to know people with a particular
character." Adzukizawa was perfectly right : under
a very gentle exterior, Yokogi has an extremely
strong character. He is the son of a carpenter ; and
his parents could not afford to send him to the Mid
dle School. But he had shown such exceptional
qualities while in the Elementary School that a
wealthy man became interested in him, and offered to
pay for his education.^ He is now the pride of the
school. He has a remarkably placid face, with pecu
liarly long eyes, and a delicious smile. In class he
is always asking intelligent questions — questions
BO original that I am sometimes extremely puzzled
how to answer them ; and he never ceases to ask
until the explanation is quite satisfactory to himself.
He never cares about the opinion of his comrades if
he thinks he is right. On one occasion when the
whole class refused to attend the lectures of a new
teacher of physics, Yokogi alone refused to act with
them, — arguing that although the teacher was not
all that could be desired, there was no immediate
possibility of his removal, and no just reason for
making unhappy a man who, though unskilled, was
sincerely doing his best. Adzukizawa finally stood
by him. These two alone attended the lectures until
the remainder of the students, two weeks later, found
that Yokogi's views were rational. On another oc
casion when some vulgar proselytism was attempted
by a Christian missionary, Yokogi went boldly to the
proselytizer's house, argued with him on the morality
of his effort, and reduced him to silence. Some of
bis comrades praised his cleverness in the argument,
1 Beautiful generosities of this kind are not uncommon in Japan.

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 475
" I am not clever," he made answer : " it does not
require cleverness to argue against what is morally
wrong ; it requires only the knowledge that one is
morally right." At least such is about the transla
tion of what he said as told me by Adzukizawa.
Shida, another visitor, is a very delicate, sensitive
boy, whose soul is full of art. He is very skillful at
drawing and painting ; and he has a wonderful set
of picture-books by the old Japanese masters. The
last time he came he brought some prints to show
me, — rare ones, — fairy maidens and ghosts. As I
looked at his beautiful pale face and weirdly frail
fingers, I could not help fearing for him, — fearing
that he might soon become a little ghost.
I have not seen him now for more than two
months. He has been very, very ill ; and his lungs
are so weak that the doctor has forbidden him to
converse. But Adzukizawa has been to visit him,
and brings me this translation of a Japanese letter
which the sick boy wrote and pasted upon the wall
above his bed : —
"Thou, my Lord-Soul, dost govern me. Thou knowest
that X cannot now govern myself. Deign, I pray thee, to
let me be cured speedily. Do not suffer me to speak much.
Make me to obey in all things the command of the physi
cian. •
" This ninth day of the eleventh month of the twenty
lourth year of Meiji.
" From the sick body of Shida to his Soul."
xrx. September 4, 1891.
The long summer vacation is over ; a new school
year begins.

476 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
There have been many changes. Some of the boya
I taught are dead. Others have graduated and gone
away from Matsue forever. Some teachers, too, have
left the school, and their places have been filled;
and there is a new Director.
And the dear good Governor has gone — been
transferred to cold Niigata in the northwest. It
was a promotion. But he had ruled Izumo for seven
years, and everybody loved him, especially, perhaps,
the students, who looked upon him as a father. AU.
the population of the city crowded to the river to bid
him farewell. The streets through which he passed
on his way to take the steamer, the bridge, the
wharves, even the roofs were thronged with multi
tudes eager to see his face for the last time. Thou
sands were weeping. And as the steamer glided from
the wharf such a cry arose, — '¦'¦A-a-a-a-ara-a-a-arOra ! "
It was intended for a cheer, but it seemed to me the
cry of a whole city sorrowing, and so plaintive that
I hope never to hear such a cry again.
The names and faces of the younger classes are all
strange to me. Doubtless this was why the sensation
of my first day's teaching in the school came back
to me with extraordinary vividness when I entered
the class-room of First Division A this morning.
Strangely pleasant is the first sensation of a Japa
nese class, as you look over the ranges of young faces
before you. There is nothing in them familiar to
inexperienced Western eyes ; yet there is an inde
scribable pleasant something common to all. Those
traits have nothing incisive, nothing forcible : com
pared with Occidental faces they seem but "half-
sketched," so soft their outlines are — indicating
neither aggressiveness nor shyness, neither eccentri-

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. ill
city nor sympathy, neither curiosity nor indifference.
Some, although faces of youths well grown, have a
childish freshness and frankness indescribable ; some
are as uninteresting as others are attractive ; a few
are beautifully feminine. But all are equally char
acterized by a singular placidity, — expressing nei
ther love nor hate nor anything save perfect repose
and gentleness, — like the dreamy placidity of Bud
dhist images. At a later day you will no longer
recognize this aspect of passionless composure : with
growing acquaintance each face will become more
and more individualized for you by characteristics
before imperceptible. But the recollection of that
first impression will remain with you ; and the time
will come when you will find, by many varied expe
riences, how strangely it foreshadowed something in
Japanese character to be fully learned only after
years of familiarity. You will recognize in the mem
ory of that first impression one glimpse of the race-
soul, with its impersonal lovableness and its imper
sonal weaknesses, — one glimpse of the nature of a
life in which the Occidental, dwelling alone, feels a
psychic comfort comparable only to the nervous relief
of suddenly emerging from some stifling atmospheric
pressure into thin, clear, free living air,
XX.
Was it not the eccentric Fourier who wrote about
the horrible faces of " the civilis&s f " Whoever it
was, would have found seeming confirmation of his
physiognomical theory could he have known the
effect produced by the first sight of European faces
in the most eastern East. What we are taught at
home to consider handsome, interesting, or character-

478 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
istic in physiognomy does not produce the same im
pression in China or Japan. Shades of facial expres
sion familiar to us as letters of our own alphabet are
not perceived at all in Western features by these
Orientals at first acquaintance. What they discern
at once is the race-characteristic, not the individual
ity. The evolutional meaning of the deep-set West
ern eye, protruding brow, accipitrine nose, ponderous
jaw — symbols of aggressive force and habit — was
revealed to the gentler race by the same sort of in
tuition through which a tame animal immediately
comprehends the dangerous nature of the first pre
datory enemy which it sees. To Europeans the
smooth -featured, slender, low-statured Japanese
seemed like boys ; and " boy " is the term by which
the native attendant of a Yokohama merchant is
still called. To Japanese the first red-haired, rowdy,
drunken European sailors seemed fiends, shojo, de
mons of the sea ; and by the Chinese the Occidentals
are still called "foreign devils." The great stature
and massive strength and fierce gait of foreigners
in Japan enhanced the strange impression created
by their faces. Children cried for fear on seeing
them pass through the streets. And in remoter dis
tricts, Japanese children are still apt to cry at the
first sight of a European or American face.
A lady of Matsue related in my presence this curi
ous souvenir of her childhood : " When I was a
Very little girl," she said, " our daimyo hired a for
eigner to teach the military art. My father and a
great many samurai went to receive the foreigner;
and all the people lined the streets to see, — for no
foreigner had ever come to Izumo before ; and we all

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 479
went to look. The foreigner came by ship: there
were no steamboats here then. He was very tall,
and walked quickly with long steps ; and the children
began to cry at the sight of him, because his face
was not like the faces of the people of Nihon. My
little brother cried oat loud, and hid his face in
mother's robe ; and raother reproved him and said :
' This foreigner is a very good man who has come
here to serve our prince ; and it is very disrespectful
,to cry at seeing him.' But he still cried. I was not
afraid ; and I looked up at the foreigner's face as he
came and smiled. He had a great beard; and I
thought his face was good though it seemed to me a
very strange face and stern. Then he stopped and
smiled too, and put something in my hand, and
touched my head and face very softly with his great
fingers, and said something I could not understand,
and went away. After he had gone I looked at what
be put into my hand and found that it was a pretty
little glass to look through. If you put a fly under
that glass it looks quite big. At that time I thought
the glass was a very wonderful thing. I have it
still." She took from a drawer in the room and
placed before me a tiny, dainty pocket-microscope.
The hero of this little incident was a French mili
tary officer. His services were necessarily dispensed
with on the abolition of the feudal system. Memo
ries of him still linger in Matsue ; and old people
remember a popular snatch about him, — a sort of
rapidly - vociferated rigmarole, supposed to be an
imitation of his foreign speech.
Tojin no negoto niwa kinkarakuri medagasho,
Saiboji ga shimpeishite harishite keisan,
Hanryo na Sacr-r-r-r-r-i-na-nom-da-Jiu.

480 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.

XXI. November 2, 1891.
Shida will never come to school again. He sleeps
under the shadow of the cedars, in the old cemetery
of Tokoji. Yokogi, at the memorial service, read a
beautiful address (saibun) to the soul of his dead
comrade. But Yokogi himself is down. And I am very
much afraid for him. He is suffering from some
affection of the brain, brought on, the doctor says,
by studying a great deal too hard. Even if he gets
well, he will always have to be careful. Some of us
hope much; for the boy is vigorously built and so
young. Strong Sakane burst a blood-vessel last month
and is now well. So we trust that Yokogi may rally.
Adzukizawa daily brings news of his friend.
But the rally never comes. Some mysterious
spring in the mechanism of the young life has been
broken. The mind hves only in brief intervals be
tween long hours of unconsciousness. Parents watch,
and friends, for these living moments to whisper
caressing things, or to ask : " Is there anything
thou dost wish ? " And one night the answer
comes : —
"Yes: I want to go to the school; I want to
see the school."
Then they wonder if the fine brain has not wholly
given way, while they make answer : —
" It is midnight past, and there is no moon. And
the night is cold."
" No ; I can see by the stars — I want to see the
school again."

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 481
They make kindliest protests in vain : the dying
boy only repeats, with the plaintive persistence of a
last wish, —
" I want to see the school again ; I want to see it
now." So there is a murmured consultation in the neigh
boring room ; and tansu-drawers are unlocked, warm
garments prepared. Then Fusaichi, the strong ser
vant, enters with lantern lighted, and cries out in his
kind rough voice : — -
" Master Tomi will go to the school upon my
back: 'tis but a little way; he shall see the school
again." Carefully they wrap up the lad in wadded robes ;
then he puts his arms about Fusaichi's shoulders like
a child ; and the strong servant bears him lightly
through the wintry street; and the father hurries
beside Fusaichi, bearing the lantern. And it is not
far to the school, over the little bridge.
The huge dark gray building looks almost black
in the night ; but Yokogi can see. He looks at the
windows of his own class-room ; at the roofed side-
door where each morning for four happy years he
used to exchange his getas for soundless sandals of
straw ; at the lodge of the slumbering Kodzukai ; ^
at the silhouette of the bell hanging black in its little
turret against the stars.
Then he murmurs : —
" I can remember all now. I had forgotten — so
sick I was. I remember everything again. Oh,
Fusaichi, you are very good. I am so glad to have
seen the school again."
And they hasten back through the long void
streets. 1 The college porter.

482 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.

xxn.
November 26, 1891.
Yokogi will be buried to-morrow evening beside
his comrade Shida.
When a poor person is about to die, friends and
neighbors come to the house and do all they can to
help the family. Some bear the tidings to distant
relatives ; others prepare all necessary things ; others,
when the death has been announced, summon the
Buddhist priests.^
It is said that the priests know always of a parish
ioner's death at night, before any messenger is sent
to them ; for the soul of the dead knocks heavily,
once, upon the door of the family temple. Then the
priests arise and robe themselves, and when the mes
senger comes make answer : " We know : we are
ready." Meanwhile the body is carried out before the
family butsudan, and laid upon the floor. No pillow
is placed under the head. A naked sword is laid
across the limbs to keep evil spirits away. The doors
of the butsudan are opened ; and tapers are lighted
before the tablets of the ancestors ; and incense is
burned. All friends send gifts of incense. Where
fore a gift of incense, however rare and precious,
given upon any other occasion, is held to be un
lucky. But the Shinto household shrine must be hidden
1 Except in those comparatively rare instances where the family
is exclusively Shinto in its faith, or, although belonging to both faiths,
prefers to bury its dead according to Shinto rites. In Matsue, as a
rule, high oificials only have Shintd funerals.

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 483
from view with white paper ; and the Shinto ofuda
fastened upon the house door must be covered up
during all the period of mourning.^ And in all that
time no member of the family may approach a Shinto
temple, or pray to the Kami, or even pass beneath a
torii. A screen (biobu) is extended between the body
and the principal entrance of the death chamber;
and the kaimyo, inscribed upon a strip of white
paper, is fastened upon the screen. If the dead be
young the screen must be turned upside-down ; but
this is not done in the case of old people.
Friends pray beside the corpse. There a little
box is placed, containing one thousand peas, to be
used for counting during the recital of those one
thousand pious invocations, which, it is believed,
will improve the condition of the soul on its unfa
miliar journey.
The priests come and recite the sutras ; and then
the body is prepared for burial. It is washed in
warm water, and robed all in white. But the
kimono of the dead is lapped over to the left side.
Wherefore it is considered unlucky at any other time
to fasten one's kimono thus, even by accident.
1 Unless the dead be buried according to the Shinto rite. In Ma
tsue the mourning period is usually fifty days. On the fifty-first day
after the decease, all members of the family go to Enjoji-nada (the
lake-shore at the foot of the hill on which the great temple of Kiijoji
stands) to perform the ceremony of purification. At Enjoji-nada, on
the beach, stands a lofty stone statue of Jizo. Before it the mourners
pray ; then wash their mouths and hands with the water of the lake.
Afterwards they go to a friend's house for breakfast, the purification
being always performed at daybreak, if possible. During the mourn
ing period, no member of the family can eat at a friend's house. But
if the burial has been according to the Shinto rite, all these cere
monial observances may be dispensed with.

484 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
When the body has been put into that strange
square coffin which looks something like a wooden
palanquin, each relative puts also into the coffin some
of his or her hair or nail parings, symbolizing their
blood. And six rin are also placed in the coffin, for
the six Jizo who stand at the heads of the ways of the
Six Shadowy Worlds.
The funeral procession forms at the family resi
dence. A priest leads it, ringing a little bell ; a boy
bears the ihai of the newly dead. The van of the
procession is wholly composed of men — relatives and
friends. Some carry hata, white symbolic bannerets ;
some bear flowers ; all carry paper lanterns, — for
in Izumo the adult dead are buried after dark : only
children are buried by day. Next comes the kwan
or coffin, borne palanquin-wise upon the shoulders
of men of that pariah caste whose office it is to dig
graves and assist at funerals. Lastly come the wo
men mourners.
They are all white-hooded and white-robed from
head to feet, like phantoms.^ Nothing more ghostly
than this sheeted train of an Izumo funeral pro
cession, illuminated only by the glow of paper lan
terns, can be imagined. It is a weirdness that, once
seen, will often return in dreams.
At the temple the kwan is laid upon the pavement
before the entrance ; and another service is performed,
with plaintive music and recitation of sutras. Then
the procession forms again, winds once round the
temple court, and takes its way to the cemetery. But
the body is not buried until twenty-four hours later,
lest the supposed dead should awake in the grave.
1 But at samurai funerals in the olden time the women were robed
in black.

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 485
Corpses are seldom burned in Izumo. In this, as
fn other matters, tbe predominance of Shinto senti
ment is manifest. xxirr.
For the last time I see his face again, as he lies
upon his bed of death, — white-robed from neck to
feet, — white-girdled for his shadowy journey, — but
smiling with closed eyes in almost the same queer
gentle way he was wont to smile at class on learning
the explanation of some seeming riddle in our difficult
English tongue. Only, methinks, the smile is sweeter
now, as with sudden larger knowledge of more mys
terious things. So smiles, through dusk of incense in
the great temple of Tokoji, the golden face of Bud
dha. XXIV. December 23, 1891.
The great bell of Tokoji is booming for the me
morial service, — for the tsuito-kwai of Yokogi, —
slowly and regularly as a minute-gun. Peal on peal
of its rich bronze thunder shakes over the lake,
surges over the roofs of the town, and breaks iu deep
sobs of sound against the green circle of the hills.
It is a touching service, this tsuito-kwai, with
quaint ceremonies which, although long since adopted
into Japanese Buddhism, are of Chinese origin and
are beautiful. It is also a costly ceremony ; and the
parents of Yokogi are very poor. But all the ex
penses have been paid by voluntary subscription of
students and teachers. Priests from every great
temple of the Zen sect in Izumo have assembled at
Tokoji. All the teachers of the city and all the stu
dents have entered the hondo of the huge temple,
and taken their places to the right and to the left of

486 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
the high altar, — kneeling on the matted floor, and
leaving, on the long broad steps without, a thousand
shoes and sandals.
Before the main entrance, and facing the high
shrine, a new butsudan has been placed, within whose
open doors the ihai of the dead boy glimmers in
lacquer and gilding. And upon a small stand before
the butsudan have been placed an incense-vessel with
bundles of senko-rods and offerings of fruits, con
fections, rice, and flowers. Tall and beautiful flower
vases on each side of the butsudan are filled with
blossoming sprays, exquisitely arranged. Before the
honzon tapers burn in massive candelabra whose stems
of polished brass are writhing monsters, — the Dragon
Ascending and the Dragon Descending ; and incense
curls up from vessels shaped like the sacred deer, like
the symbolic tortoise, like the meditative stork of
Buddhist legend. And beyond these, in the twilight
of the vast alcove, the Buddha smiles the smile of
Perfect Rest.
Between the butsudan and the honzon a little
table has been placed ; and on either side of it the
priests kneel in ranks, facing each other: rows of
polished heads, and splendors of vermilion silks and
vestments gold-embroidered.
The great bell ceases to peal ; the Segaki prayer,
which is the prayer uttered when offerings of food
are made to the spirits of the dead, is recited ; and
a sudden sonorous measured tapping, accompanied by
a plaintive chant, begins the musical service. The
tapping is the tapping of the mokugyo, — a huge
wooden fish-head, lacquered and gilded, like the head
of a dolphin grotesquely idealized, — marking the
time; and the chant is the chant of the Chapter

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 487
of Kwannon in the Hokkekyo, with its magnificent
invocation : —
" 0 Thou whose eyes are clear, whose eyes are kind,
whose eyes are full of pity and of sweetness, — 0 Thou
Lovely One, with thy beautiful face, with thy beauti
ful eyes, —
" 0 Thou Pure One, whose luminosity is without
spot, whose knowledge is without shadow, — 0 Thou
forever shining like that Sun whose glory no power
may repel, — Thou Sun-like in the course of Thy
mercy, pourest Light upon the world!"
And while the voices of the leaders chant clear and
high in vibrant unison, the multitude of the priestly
choir recite in profoundest undertone the mighty
verses ; and the sound of their recitation is like the
muttering of surf.
The mokugyo ceases its dull echoing, the impres
sive chant ends, and the leading officiants, one by
one, high priests of famed temples, approach the ihai.
Each bows low, ignites an incense-rod, and sets it
upright in the little vase of bronze. Each at a time
recites a holy verse of which the initial sound is the
sound of a letter in the kaimyo of the dead boy ; and
these verses, uttered in the order of the characters
upon the ihai, form the sacred Acrostic whose name
is The Words of Perfume.
Then the priests retire to their places ; and after a
little silence begins the reading of the saibun, — the
reading of the addresses to the soul of the dead. The
students speak first, — one from each class, chosen by
election. The elected rises, aproaches the little table
before the high altar, bows to the honzon, draws
from his bosom a paper and reads it in those melodi-
VOL. n.

488 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
ous, chanting, and plaintive tones which belong to
the reading of Chinese texts. So each one tells the
affection of the living to the dead, in words of loving
grief and loving hope. And last among the students
a gentle girl rises — a pupil of the Normal School —
to speak in tones soft as a bird's. As each saibun ia
finished, the reader lays the written paper upon the
table before the honzon, and bows, and retires.
It is now the turn of the teachers ; and an old man
takes his place at the little table, — old Katayama,
the teacher of Chinese, famed as a poet, adored as an
instructor. And because the students all love him
as a father, there is a strange intensity of silence aa
he begins, — Ko-Shimane-KenrJinjo-Chugakko-yo-nen-
sei. " Here upon the twenty-third day of the twelfth
month of the twenty-fourth year of Meiji, I, Kata
yama Shokei, teacher of the Jinjo Chiigakko of Shi
mane Ken, attending in great sorrow the holy service
of the dead \tsui-fuku\, do speak unto the soul of
Yokogi Tomisaburo, my pupil.
" Having been, as thou knowest, for twice five
years, at different periods, a teacher of the school, I
have indeed met with not a few most excellent stu
dents. But very, very rarely in any school may the
teacher find one such as thou, — so patient and so
earnest, so diligent and so careful in all things, — so
distinguished among thy comrades by thy blameless
conduct, observing every precept, never breaking a
rule. " Of old in the land of Kihoku, famed for its
horses, whenever a horse of rarest breed could not be
obtained, men were wont to say : ' There is no horst.*

FROM THE DIARY OF A TEACHER. 489
Still there are many fine lads among our students, —
many ryume, fine young steeds ; but we have lost the
best. "To die at the age of seventeen, — the best period
of life for study, — even when of the Ten Steps thou
hadst already ascended six ! Sad is the thought; but
sadder still to know that thy last illness was caused
only by thine own tireless zeal of study. Even yet
more sad our conviction tbat with those rare gifts,
and with that rare character of thine, thou wouldst
surely, in that career to which thou wast destined,
have achieved good and great things, honoring the
names of thine ancestors, couldst thou have lived to
manhood. " I see thee lifting thy hand to ask some question ;
then, bending above thy little desk to make note of
all thy poor old teacher was able to tell thee. Again
I see thee in the ranks, — thy rifle upon thy shoul
der, — so bravely erect during the military exercises.
Even now thy face is before me, with its smile, as
plainly as if thou wert present in the body ; — thy
voice I think I hear distinctly as though thou hadst
but this instant finished speaking ; — yet I know
that, except in memory, these never will be seen and
heard again. O Heaven, why didst thou take away
that dawning life from the world, and leave such a
one as I — old Shokei, feeble, decrepit, and of no
more use ?
" To thee my relation was indeed only that of
teacher to pupil. Yet what is my distress ! I have a
son of twenty-four years; he is now far from me,
in Yokohama. I know he is only a worthless youth ; ^
1 Said only in courteous self-depreciation. In the same way a son,
writing to his parent, would never according to Japanese ideas of true

490 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
yet never for so much as the space of one hour does
the thought of him leave his old father's heart.
Then how must the father and mother, the brothers
and the sisters of this gentle and gifted youth feel
now that he is gone ! Only to think of it forces the
tears from my eyes: I cannot speak — so full my
heart is.
"Aa! aa! — thou hast gone from us; thou hast
gone from us ! Yet though thou hast died, thy
earnestness, thy goodness, will long be honored and
told of as examples to the students of our school,
" Here, therefore, do we, thy teachers and thy
schoolmates, hold this service in behalf of thy spirit,
— with prayer and offerings. Deign thou, O gentle
Soul, to honor our love by the acceptance of oui
humble gifts."
Then a sound of sobbing is suddenly whelmed by
the resonant booming of the great fish's-head, as the
high-pitched voices of the leaders of the chant begin
the grand Nehan-gyo, the Sutra of Nirvana, the
song of passage triumphant over the Sea of Death
and Birth; and deep below those high tones and
the hollow echoing of the mokugyo, the surging
bass of a century of voices reciting the sonorous words,
sounds like the breaking of a sea : —
" Sho-gyo mu-jo, je-sho meppo. — Transient are
all. They, being born, must die. And being born,
are dead. And being dead, are glad to be at rest."
courtesy and duty sign himself " Ymr affectionate son," bnt " YtMT
ungrateful, or unloving son."

XX
TWO STRANGE FESTIVALS.

The outward signs of any Japanese matsuri are
the most puzzling of enigmas to the stranger who
sees them for the first time. They are many and
varied ; they are quite unlike anything in the way of
holiday decoration ever seen in the Occident ; they
have each a meaning founded upon some belief or
some tradition, — a meaning known to every Japa
nese child; but that meaning is utterly impossible
for any foreigner to guess. Yet whoever wishes to
know something of Japanese popular life and feeling
must learn the signification of at least the most com
mon among festival symbols and tokens. Especially
is such knowledge necessary to the student of Japa
nese art : without it, not only the delicate humor and
charm of countless designs must escape him, but in
many instances the designs themselves must remain
incomprehensible to him. For hundreds of years the
emblems of festivity have been utilized by the Japa
nese in graceful decorative ways : they figure in metal-
work, on porcelain, on the red or black lacquer of the
humblest household utensils, on little brass pipes, on
the clasps of tobacco-pouches. It may even be said
that the majority of common decorative design is
emblematical. The very figures of which the mean
ing seems most obvious, — those matchless studies'
. 1 As it has become, among a certain sect of Western Philistines and

492 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
of animal or vegetable life with which the Western
curio-buyer is most familiar, — have usually some
ethical signification which is not perceived at all.
Or take the commonest design dashed with a brush
upon tbe fusuma of a cheap hotel, — a lobster, —
sprigs of pine, — tortoises waddling in a curl of
water, — a pair of storks, — a spray of bamboo. It
is rarely that a foreign tourist thinks of asking why
such designs are used instead of others, — even when
he has seen them repeated, with slight variation, at
twenty different places along his route. They have
become conventional simply because they are em
blems of which the sense is known to all Japanese,
however ignorant, but is never even remotely sus
pected by the stranger.
The subject is one about which a whole encyclo
pedia might be written, but about which I know very
little, — much too little for a special essay. But I
may venture, by way of illustration, to speak of the
curious objects exhibited during two antique festivals
still observed in all parts of Japan.
seU-constituted art critics, the fashion to sneer at any writer who
becomes enthusiastic about the truth to nature of Japanese art, I may
cite here the words of England's most celebrated living naturalist on
this very subject. Mr. Wallace's authority wiU scarcely, I presume,
be questioned, even by the Philistines referred to : —
" Dr. Mohnike possesses a large collection of colored sketches of
the plants of Japan made by a Japanese lady, which are the most mas
terly things I have ever seen. Every stem, twig, and leaf is produced
by single touches of the brush, the character and perspective of very
coraplicated plants being admirably given, and the articulations of
stem and leaves shown m a most scientific manner." (Malay Archi
pelago, chap. XX.)
Now this was written in 1857, before European methods of drawing
had been introduced. The same art of painting leaves, etc., with
single strokes of the brush is still common in Japan, — even among
the poorest class of decorators.

TWO STRANGE FESTIVALS. 493
n.
The first is the Festival of the New Year, which
lasts for three days. In Matsue its celebration is
particularly interesting, as the old city still preserves
many matsuri customs which have either become,
or are rapidly becoming, obsolete elsewhere. The
streets are then profusely decorated, and all shops
are closed. Shimenawa or shimekazari, — the straw
ropes which have been sacred symbols of Shinto from
the mythical age, — are festooned along the facades
of the dwellings, and so interjoined that you see to
right or left what seems but a single mile-long shime
nawa, with its straw pendents and white fluttering
paper gohei, extending along either side of the street
as far as the eye can reach. Japanese flags — bear
ing on a white ground the great crimson disk which
is the emblem of the Land of the Rising Sun — flut
ter above the gateways ; and the same national em
blem glows upon countless paper lanterns strung in
rows along the eaves or across the streets and temple
avenues. And before every gate or doorway a kado-
matsu ("gate pine-tree ") has been erected. So that
all the ways are lined with green, and full of bright
color. The kadomatsu is more than its name implies.
It is a young pine, or part of a pine, conjoined with
plum branches and bamboo cuttings.^ Pine, plum,
I There is a Buddhist saying about the kadomatsu : —
Kadomatsu
Meido no tahi no
Ichi-ri-zuka.
The meaning is that each kadomatsu is a milestone on the journey to
the Meido; or, in other words, that each New Year's festival signals
only the completion of another stage of the ceaseless Journey to death.

494 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
and bamboo are growths of emblematic signiflcance.
Anciently the pine alone was used ; but from the
era of 0-ei, the bamboo was added ; and within more
recent times the plum-tree.
The pine has many meanings. But the fortunate
one most generally accepted is that of endurance and
successful energy in time of misfortune. As the pine
keeps its green leaves when other trees lose their
foliage, so the true man keeps his courage and his
strength in adversity. The pine is also, as I have
said elsewhere, a symbol of vigorous old age.
No European could possibly guess the riddle of
the bamboo. It represents a sort of pun in sym
bolism. There are two Chinese characters both pro
nounced setsu, — one signifying the node or joint of
the bamboo, and the other virtue, fidelity, constancy.
Therefore is the bamboo used as a felicitous si^n.
The name "Setsu," be it observed, is often given
to Japanese maidens, — just as the names "Faith,"
"Fidelia," and "Constance" are given to English
girls. The plum-tree — of whose emblematic meaning I
said something in a former paper about Japanese
gardens — is not invariably used, however; some
times sakaki, the sacred plant of Shinto, is substi
tuted for it ; and sometimes only pine and bamboo
form the kadomatsu.
Every decoration used upon the New Year's festi
val has a meaning of a curious and unfamiliar kind;
and the very commonest of all — the straw rope —
possesses the most complicated symbolism. In the
first place it is scarcely necessary to explain that its
origin belongs to that most ancient legend of the
Sun-Goddess being tempted to issue from the cavern

TWO STRANGE FESTIVALS. 495
into which she had retired, and being prevented from
returning thereunto by a deity who stretched a rope
of straw across the entrance, — all of which is writ
ten in the Kojiki. Next observe that, although
the shimenawa may be of any thickness, it must
be twisted so that the direction of the twist is to the
left ; for in ancient Japanese philosophy the left
is the " pure " or fortunate side : owing perhaps to
the old belief, common among the uneducated of
Europe to this day, that the heart lies to the left.
Thirdly, note that the pendent straws, which hang
down from the rope at regular intervals, in tufts, like
fringing, must be of different numbers according to
the place of the tufts, beginning with the number
three : so that the first tuft has three straws, the
second five, the third seven, the fourth again three,
the fifth five, and the sixth seven, — and so on, the
whole length of the rope. The origin of the pendent
paper cuttings (gohei), which alternate with the straw
tufts, is likewise to be sought in the legend of the
Sun-Goddess ; but the gohei also represent offerings
of cloth anciently made to the gods according to a
custom long obsolete.
But besides the gohei, there are many other things
attached to the shimenawa of which you could not
imagine the signification. Among these are fern-
leaves, bitter oranges, yuzuri-leaves, and little bundles
of charcoal.
Why fern-leaves (moromoki or urajiro) ? Because
the fern-leaf is the symbol of the hope of exuberant
posterity : even as it branches and rebranches so
may the happy family increase and multiply through
the generations.
Why bitter oranges (daidai) ? Because there is

496 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
a Chinese word daidai signifying " from generation
unto generation." Wherefore the fruit called daidai
has become a fruit of good omen.
But why charcoal (sumi) ? It signifies " prosper
ous changelessness." Here the idea is decidedly
curious. Even as the color of charcoal cannot be
changed, so may the fortunes of those we love remain
forever unchanged in all that gives happiness ! The
signification of the yuzuri-leaf I explained in a former
paper. Besides the great shimenawa in front of the house,
shimenawa or shimekazari i are suspended above the
toko, or alcoves, in each apartment; and over the
back gate, or over the entrance to the gallery of the
second story (if there be a second story), is hung a
wajime, which is a very small shimekazari twisted
into a sort of wreath, and decorated with fern-leaves,
gohei, and yuzuri-leaves.
But the great domestic display of the festival is the
decoration of the kamidana, — the shelf of the Gods.
Before the household miya are placed great double
rice cakes ; and tbe shrine is beautified with flowers,
a tiny shimekazari, and sprays of sakaki. There also
are placed a string of cash ; kabu (turnips) ; daikon
(radishes) ; a tai-fish, which is tbe " king of fishes,"
dried slices of salt cuttlefish ; jinbaso, or " the Sea
weed of the Horse of the God ; " ^ — also the seaweed
kombu, which is a symbol of pleasure and of joy,
because its name is deemed to be a homonym for
1 The difference between the shimenawa and shimekazari is that
the latter is a strictly decorative straw rope, to which many curious
emblems are attached.
2 It belongs to the sargassum family, and is full of air sacs. Vari
ous kinds of edible seaweed form a considerable proportion of Japa
nese diet.

TWO STRANGE FESTIVALS. 497
gladness; and mochibana, artificial blossoms formed
of rice flour and straw.
The sambo is a curiously shaped little table on
which offerings are made to the Shinto gods ; and
almost every well-to-do household in Izumo has its
own sambo ; — such a family sambo being smaller,
however, than sambo used in the temples. At the
advent of the New Year's Festival, bitter oranges,
rice, and rice-flour cakes, native sardines (iwashi),
chikara-iwai (" strength -rice -bread"), black peas,
dried chestnuts, and a fine lobster, are all tastefully
arranged upon the family sambo. Before each vis
itor the sambo is set ; and the visitor, by saluting it
with a prostration, expresses not only his heartfelt
wish that all the good-fortune symbolized by the ob
jects upon the sambo may come to the family, but
also his reverence for the household gods. The black
peas (mame) signify bodily strength and health, be
cause a word similarly pronounced, though written
with a different ideograph, means " robust." But
why a lobster ? Here we have another curious con
ception. The lobster's body is bent double : the body
of the man who lives to a very great old age is also
bent. Thus the lobster stands for a symbol of ex
treme old age ; and in artistic design signifies the
wish that our friends may live so long that they
will become bent like lobsters, — under the weight
of years. And the dried chestnuts (kachiguri) are
emblems of success, because the first character of
their name in Japanese is the homonym of kachi,
which means " victory," " conquest."
There are at least a hundred other singular customs
and emblems belonging to the New Year's Festival
which would require a large volume to describe. I

498 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
have mentioned only a few which immediately appeal
to even casual observation.

in.
The other festival I wish to refer to is that of the
Setsubun, which, according the ancient Japanese cal
endar, corresponded with the beginning of the natu
ral year, — the period when winter first softens into
spring. It is what we might term, according to
Professor Chamberlain, " a sort of movable feast ; "
and it is chiefly famous for the curious ceremony of
the casting out of devils, — Oni-yarai. On the eve
of the Setsubun, a little after dark, the Yaku-otoshi,
or caster-out of devils, wanders through tbe streets
from house to house, rattling his shakujo,^ and utter
ing his strange professional cry: "Oniwasoto! —
fuku wa uchi ! " [ Devils out ! Good-fortune in ! ]
For a trifling fee he performs his little exorcism in
any house to which he is called. This simply con
sists in the recitation of certain parts of a Buddhist
kyo, or sutra, and the rattling of the shakujo. After
wards dried peas (shiro-mame) are thrown about the
house in four directions. For some mysterious rea
son, devils do not like dried peas — and flee there
from. The peas thus scattered are afterward swept
up and carefully preserved until the first clap of
spring thunder is heard, when it is the custom to
cook and eat some of them. But just why, I cannot
1 This is a curiously shaped staff with which the divinity Jisjo is
commonly represented. It is stiU carried by Buddhist mendicants,
and there are several sizes of it. That carried by the Yaku-otoshi is
nsually very short. There is a tradition that the shakujo was first in
vented as a means of giving warning to insects or other little fcreatures
in the path of the Buddhist pilgrim, so that they might not be trodden
upon unawares.

TWO STRANGE FESTIVALS. 499
find out; neither can I discover the origin of the
dislike of devils for dried peas. On the subject of
this dislike, however, I confess my sympathy with
devils. After the devils have been properly cast out, a
small charm is placed above all the entrances of the
dwelling to keep them from coming back again.
This consists of a little stick about the length and
thickness of a skewer, a single holly-leaf, and the
head of a dried iwashi, — a fish resembling a sardine.
The stick is stuck through the middle of the holly-
leaf ; and the fish's head is fastened into a split made
in one end of the stick ; the other end being slipped
into some joint of the timber -work immediately
above a door. But why the devils are afraid of the
holly-leaf and the fish's head, nobody seems to know.
Among the people the origin of all these curious cus
toms appears to be quite forgotten ; and the families
of the upper classes who still maintain such customs
believe in the superstitions relating to the festival
just as little as Englishmen to-day believe in the
magical virtues of mistletoe or ivy.
This ancient and merry annual custom of casting
out devils has been for generations a source of in
spiration to Japanese artists. It is only after a fair
acquaintance with popular customs and ideas that
the foreigner can learn to appreciate the delicious
humor of many art-creations which he may wish,
indeed, to buy just because they are so oddly attrac
tive in themselves, but which must really remain
enigmas to him, so far as their inner meaning is con
cerned, unless he knows Japanese life. The other
day a friend gave me a little card-case of perfumed
leather. On one side was stamped in relief the face

500 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
of a devil, through the orifice of whose yawning
mouth could be seen, — painted upon the silk lining
of the interior, — the laughing, chubby face of Ota-
fuku, joyful Goddess of Good Luck. In itself the
thing was very curious and pretty; but the real
merit of its design was this comical symbolism of
good wishes for the New Year: " Oni wa soto! —
fuku wa uchi ! " IV.
Since I have spoken of the custom of eating some
of the Setsubun peas at the time of the first spring
thunder, I may here take the opportunity to say a
few words about superstitions in regard to thunder
which have not yet ceased to prevail among the peas
antry. When a thunder-storm comes, the big brown mos
quito curtains are suspended, and the women and
children — perhaps the whole family — squat down
under the curtains till the storm is over. From an
cient days it has been beheved that lightning cannot
kill anybody under a mosquito curtain. The Raijii,
or Thunder- Animal, cannot pass through a mosquito-
curtain. Only the other day, an old peasant who
came to the house with vegetables to sell told us
that he and his whole family, while crouching under
their mosquito-netting during a thunder-storm, actu
ally saw the Lightning rushing up and down the
pillar of the balcony opposite their apartment, —
furiously clawing the woodwork, but unable to enter
because of the mosquito-netting. His house bad been
badly damaged by a flash; but he supposed the
mischief to have been accomplished by the Claws of
the Thunder-Animal.
The Thunder-Animal springs from tree to tree

TWO STRANGE FESTIVALS. 501
during a storm, they say ; wherefore to stand under
trees in time of thunder and lightning is very dan
gerous: the Thunder-Animal might step on one's
head or shoulders. The Thunder -Animal is also
alleged to be fond of eating the human navel; for
which reason people should be careful to keep their
navels well covered during storms, and to lie down
upon their stomachs if possible. Incense is always
burned during storms, because the Thunder-Animal
hates the smell of incense. A tree stricken by light
ning is thought to have been torn and scarred by the
claws of the Thunder-Animal ; and fragments of its
bark and wood are carefully collected and preserved
by dwellers in the vicinity ; for the wood of a blasted
tree is alleged to have the singular virtue of curing
toothache. There are many stories of the Raiju having been
caught and caged. Once, it is said, the Thunder-
Animal fell into a well, and got entangled in the
ropes and buckets, and so was captured alive. And
old Izumo folk say they remember that the Thunder-
Animal was once exhibited in the court of the Tem
ple of Tenjin in Matsue, inclosed in a cage of brass ;
and that people paid one sen each to look at it. It
resembled a badger. When the weather was clear it
would sleep contentedly in its cage. But when there
was thunder in the air, it would become excited, and
seem to obtain great strength, and its eyes would
flash dazzlingly. V.
There is one very evil spirit, however, who is not
in the least afraid of dried peas, and who cannot be
so easily got rid of as the common devils ; and that
is Bimbogami.

502 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
But in Izumo people know a certain household
charm whereby Bimbogami may sometimes be cast
out. Before any cooking is done in a Japanese kitchen,
the little charcoal fire is first blown to a bright red
heat with that most useful and simple household
utensil called a hifukidake. The hifukidake ("fire-
blow-bamboo ") is a bamboo tube usually about three
feet long and about two inches in diameter. At one
end — the end which is to be turned toward the fire
— only a very small orifice is left ; the woman who
prepares the meal places the other end to her lips,
and blows through the tube upon the kindled char
coal. Thus a quick fire may be obtained in a few
minutes. In course of time the hifukidake becomes scorched
and cracked and useless. A new " fire-blow-tube " is
then made; and the old one is used as a charm
against Bimbogami. One little copper coin (rid) is
put into it, some magical formula is uttered, and
then the old utensil, with the rin inside of it, is
either simply thrown out through the front gate
into the street, or else flung into some neighboring
stream. This — I know not why — is deemed equiv
alent to pitching Bimbogami out of doors, and ren
dering it impossible for him to return during a
considerable period.
It may be asked how is the invisible presence of
Bimbogami to be detected.
The little insect which makes that weird ticking
noise at night called in England the Death-watch
has a Japanese relative named by the people Bimbo-
mushi, or the " Poverty-Insect." It is said to be the

TWO STRANGE FESTIVALS. 503
servant of Bimbogami, the God of Poverty ; and its
ticking in a house is believed to signal the presence
of that most unwelcome deity. VI.
One more feature of the Setsubun festival is worthy
of mention, — the sale of the bitogata (" people-
shapes "). These are little figures, made of white
paper, representing men, women, and children. They
are cut out with a few clever scissors strokes ; and
the difference of sex is indicated by variations in the
shape of the sleeves and the little paper obi. They
are sold in the Shinto temples. The purchaser buys
one for every member of the family, — the priest
writing upon each the age and sex of the person for
whom it is intended. These bitogata are then taken
home and distributed ; and each person slightly rubs
his body or her body with the paper, and says a
little Shinto prayer. Next day the bitogata are
returned to the kannushi, who, after having recited
certain formulae over them, burns them with holy
fire.^ By this ceremony it is hoped that all physical
misfortunes will be averted from the family during
a year.
1 I may make mention here of another matter, in no way relating
to the Setsubun.
There lingers in Izumo a wholesome — and I doubt not formerly a
most valuable — superstition about the sacredness of writing. Paper
npon which anything has been written, or even printed, must not be
crumpled up, or trodden upon, or dirtied, or put to any base use. If
it be necessary to destroy a document, the paper should be burned.
I have been gently reproached in a little hotel at which I stopped fof
tearing np and crumpling some paper covered with my own writing.
VOL. n.

XXI
BT THE JAPANESE SEA.

It is the fifteenth day of the seventh month,—
and I am in Hoki.
The blanched road winds along a coast of low
cliffs, — the coast of the Japanese Sea. Always on
the left, over a narrow strip of stony land, or a heap
ing of dunes, its vast expanse appears, blue- wrinkling
to that pale horizon beyond which Korea lies, under
the same white sun. Sometimes, through sudden
gaps in the cliff's verge, there flashes to us the run
ning of the surf. Always upon the right another
sea, — a silent sea of green, reaching to far misty
ranges of wooded hills, with huge pale peaks behind
them, — a vast level of rice-fields, over whose surface
soundless waves keep chasing each other under the
same great breath that moves the blue to-day from
Chosen to Japan.
Though during a week the sky has remained un
clouded, the sea has for several days been growing
angrier; and now the muttering of its surf sounds
far into the land. They say that it always roughens
thus during the period of the Festival of the Dead, —
the three days of the Bon, which are the thirteenth,
fourteenth, and fifteenth of the seventh month by the
ancient calendar. And on the sixteenth day, after
the shoryobune, which are the Ships of Souls, have
been launched, no one dares to enter it : no boats can

BY THE JAPANESE SEA. 505
then be hired; all the fishermen remain at home.
For on that day the sea is the highway of the dead,
who must pass back over its waters to their myste
rious home ; and therefore upon that day is it called
Hotoke-umi, — the Buddha-Flood, — the Tide of the
Returning Ghosts. And ever upon the night of that
sixteenth day, — whether the sea be calm or tumult
uous, — all its surface shimmers with faint lights
gliding out to the open, — the dim fires of the dead ;
and there is heard a murmuring of voices, like the
murmur of a city far-off, — the indistinguishable
speech of souls. n.
But it may happen that some vessel, belated in
spite of desperate effort to reach port, may find her
self far out at sea upon the night of the sixteenth
day. Then will the dead rise tall about the ship, and
reach long hands and murmur : " Tago, tago o-kure !
— tago o-kure ! " ^ Never may they be refused ; but,
before the bucket is given, the bottom of it must be
knocked out. Woe to all on board should an entire
tago be suffered to fall even by accident into the sea !
— for the dead would at once use it to fill and sink
the ship.
Nor are the dead the only powers invisible dreaded
in the time of the Hotoke-umi. Then are the Ma
most powerful, and the Kappa.^
1 "A bucket honorably condescend [to give]."
^ The Kappa is not properly a sea goblin, but a river goblin, and
haunts ihe sea only in the neighborhood of river mouths.
About a mile and a half from Matsue, at the little village of
K.iwachi-mura, on the river called Kawachi, stands a little temple
called Kawako-no-miya, or the Miya of the Kappa. (In Izumo,
among the common people, the word " Kappa" is not used, hut the

506 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
But in all times the swimmer fears the Kappa,
the Ape of Waters, hideous and obscene, who reaches
up from the deeps to draw men down, and to devour
their entrails.
Only their entrails.
The corpse of him who has been seized by the
Kappa may be cast on shore after many days. Un
less long battered against the rocks by heavy surf, or
nibbled by fishes, it will show no outward wound.
But it will be hght and hollow — empty like a long-
dried gourd. ni.
Betimes, as we journey on, the monotony of undu
lating blue on the left, or the monotony of biUowing
green upon the right, is broken by tbe gray appari
tion of a cemetery, — a cemetery so long that our
jinrikisha men, at full run, take a full quarter of an
term Kawako, or "The Child of the Kiver.") In this Httle shrine is
preserved a document said to have been signed by a Kappa. Tha
story goes that in ancient times, the Kappa dwelling in the Kawachi
used to seize and destroy many of the inhabitants of the village and
many domestic animals. One day, however, while trying to seize a
horse that had entered the river to drink, the Kappa got its head
twisted in some way under the belly-baud of the horse, and the terri
fied animal, rushing out of the water, dragged the Kappa into a field.
There the owner of the horse and a number of peasants seized and
bound the Kappa. All the villagers gathered to see the monster,
which bowed its head to the ground, and audibly begged for mercy-
The peasants desired to kill the goblin at once ; but the owner of the
horse, who happened to be the head man of the mura, said: "It is
better to make it swear never again to touch any person or animal
belonging to Kawachi-mura." A written form of oath was prepared
and read to the Kappa. It said that It could not write, but that It
would sign the paper by dipping Its hand in ink, and pressing tha
imprint thereof at the bottom of the document. This having been
agreed to and done, the Kappa was set free. Prom that time for.
ward no inhabitant or animal of Kawachi-mura was ever assaulted
by the goblin.

BY THE JAPANESE SEA. 607
hour to pass the huge congregation of its perpendicu
lar stones. Such visions always indicate the approach
of villages ; but the villages prove to be as surpris
ingly small as the cemeteries are surprisingly large.
By hundreds of thousands do the silent populations
of the hakaba outnumber the folk of the hamlets
to which they belong, — tiny thatched settlements
sprinkled along the leagues of coast, and sheltered
from the wind only by ranks of sombre pines. Le
gions on legions of stones, — a host of sinister wit
nesses of the cost of the present to the past, — and
old, old, old ! — hundreds so long in place that they
have been worn into shapelessness merely by the
blowing of sand from the dunes, and their inscrip
tions utterly effaced. It is as if one were passing
through the burial-ground of all who ever lived on
this wind-blown shore since the being of the land.
And in all these hakaba — for it is the Bon —
there are new lanterns before the newer tombs, — the
white lanterns which are the lanterns of graves. To
night the cemeteries will be all aglow with lights lik«'
the fires of a city for multitude. But there are alsc
unnumbered tombs before which no lanterns are, —
elder myriads, each the token of a family extinct, o.'.
of which the absent descendants have forgotten evei>
the name. Dim generations whose ghosts have none
to call them back, no local memories to love — so
long ago obliterated were all things related to their
lives. rv.
Now many of these villages are only fishing settle
ments, and in them stand old thatched homes of men
who sailed away on some eve of tempest, and never
came back. Yet each drowned sailor has his tomb ia

508 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
the neighboring hakaba, and beneath it something of
him has been buried.
What?
Among these people of tbe west something is
always preserved which in other lands is cast away
without a thought, — the hozo-no-o, the flower-stalk
of a life, the navel-string of the newly born. It is
enwrapped carefully in many wrappings ; and upon
its outermost covering are written the names of the
father, the mother, and the infant, together with
the date and hour of birth, — and it is kept in the
family o-mamori-bukuro. The daughter, becoming
a bride, bears it with her to her new home : for the
son it is preserved by his parents. It is buried with
the dead; and should one die in a foreign land, or
perish at sea, it is entombed in heu of the body.

Concerning them that go down into the sea in
ships, and stay there, strange beliefs prevail on this
far coast, — beliefs more primitive, assuredly, than
the gentle faith which hangs white lanterns before
the tombs. Some hold that the drowned never jour
ney to the Meido. They quiver forever in the cur
rents; they billow in the swaying of tides; they
toil in the wake of the junks; they shout in the
plunging of breakers. 'T is their white hands that
toss in tbe leap of the surf ; their clutch that clat
ters the shingle, or seizes the swimmer's feet in the
pull of the undertow. And the seamen speak euphe
mistically of the 0-bak^, the honorable ghosts, and
fear them with a great fear.
Wherefore cats are kept on board !
A cat, they aver, has power to keep the 0-baka

BY THE JAPANESE SEA. 509
away. How or why, I have not yet found any to
tell me. I know only that cats are deemed to have
power over the dead. If a cat be left alone with a
corpse, will not the corpse arise and dance ? And of
all cats a mike-neko, or cat of three colors, is most
prized on this account by sailors. But if they cannot
obtain one, — and cats of thi'ee colors are rare, — -
they will take another kind of cat ; and nearly every
trading junk has a cat; and when the junk comes
into port, its cat may generally be seen, — peeping
through some little window in the vessel's side, or
squatting in the opening where the great rudder
works, — tbat is, if the weather be fair and the sea
still. VI.
But these primitive and ghastly beliefs do not
affect the beautiful practices of Buddhist faith in the
time of the Bon ; and from all these little villages
the shoryobune are launched upon the sixteenth day.
They are much more elaborately and expensively
constructed on this coast than in some other parts of
Japan ; for though made of straw only, woven over
a skeleton framework, they are charming models of
junks, complete in every detail. Some are between
three and four feet long. On the white paper sail is
written the kaimyo or soul-name of the dead. There
is a small water-vessel on board, filled with fresh
water, and an incense-cup; and along the gunwales
flutter little paper banners bearing the mystic manji,
which is the Sanscrit svastika.^
The form of the shoryobune and tbe customs in
regard to the time and manner of launching them
differ much in different provinces. In most places
1 The Buddhist symbol ^JJ.

510 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
they are launched for the family dead in general,
wherever buried; and they are in some places
launched only at night, with small lanterns on board.
And I am told also that it is the custom at certain
sea-villages to launch the lanterns all by themselves,
in lieu of the shoryobune proper, — lanterns of a
particular kind being manufactured for that purpose
only. But on the Izumo coast, and elsewhere along this
western shore, the soul-boats are launched only for
those who have been drowned at sea, and the launch
ing takes place in the morning instead of at night.
Once every year, for ten years after death, a shoryo
bune is launched ; in the eleventh year the cere
mony ceases. Several shoryobune which I saw at
Inasa were really beautiful, and must have cost a
rather large sum for poor fisher-folk to pay. But the
ship-carpenter who made them said that all the rela
tives of a drowned man contribute to purchase the
little vessel, year after year. VII,
Near a sleepy little village called Kami-ichi I
make a brief halt in order to visit a famous sacred
tree. It is in a grove close to the public highway,
but upon a low hill. Entering the grove I find my
self in a sort of miniature glen surrounded on three
sides by very low cliffs, above which enormous pines
are growing, incalculably old. Their vast coiling
roots have forced their way through the face of the
cliffs, splitting rocks; and their mingling crests make
a green twilight in the hollow. One pushes out three
huge roots of a very singular shape ; and the ends of
these have been wrapped about with long white

BY THE JAPANESE SEA. 511
papers bearing written prayers, and with offerings of
seaweed. The shape of these roots, rather than any
tradition, would seem to have made the tree sacred
in popular belief : it is the object of a special cult ;
and a little torii has been erected before it, bearing a
votive annunciation of the most artless and curious
kind. I cannot venture to offer a translation of it —
though for the anthropologist and folk-lorist it cer
tainly possesses peculiar interest. The worship of
the tree, or at least of the Kami supposed to dwell
therein, is one rare survival of a phallic cult probably
common to most primitive races, and formerly wide
spread in Japan. Indeed it was suppressed by the
government scarcely more than a generation ago.
On the opposite side of the little hollow, carefully
posed upon a great loose rock, I see something
equally artless and almost equally curious, — a ki-
toja-no-mono, or ex-voto. Two straw figures joined
together and reclining side by side : a straw man
and a straw woman. The workmanship is childishly
clumsy ; but still the woman can be distinguished
from the man by the ingenious attempt to imitate
the female coiffure with a straw wisp. And as the
man is represented with a queue, — now worn only
by aged survivors of the feudal era, — I suspect that
this kitoja-no-mono was made after some ancient
and strictly conventional model.
Now this queer ex-voto tells its own story. Two
who loved each other were separated by the fault of
the man ; the charm of some joro, perhaps, having
been the temptation to faithlessness. Then the
wronged one came here and prayed the Kami to
dispel the delusion of passion and touch the erring
heart. The prayer has been heard ; the pair have

512 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
been reunited; and she has therefore made these
two quaint effigies with her own hands, and brought
them to the Kami of the pine, — tokens of her inno
cent faith and her grateful heart.
vm.
Night falls as we reach the pretty hamlet of Ha-
mamura, our last resting-place by the sea, for to
morrow our way lies inland. The inn at which we
lodge is very small, but very clean and cosy; and
there is a dehghtful bath of natural hot water ; for
the yadoya is situated close to a natural spring.
This spring, so strangely close to the sea beach, also
furnishes, I am told, the baths of all the houses in
the village.
The best room is placed at our disposal ; but I
linger awhile to examine a very fine shoryobune,
waiting, upon a bench near the street entrance, to be
launched to-morrow. It seems to have been fin
ished but a short time ago ; for fresh clippings of
straw lie scattered around it, and the kaimyo has not
yet been written upon its sail. I am surprised to
hear that it belongs to a poor widow and her son,
both of whom are employed by the hotel.
I was hoping to see the Bon-odori at Hamamura,
but I am disappointed. At all the villages the
police have prohibited the dance. Fear of cholera
has resulted in stringent sanitary regulations. In
Hamamura the people have been ordered to use no
water for drinking, cooking, or washing except the
hot water of their own volcanic springs.
A little middle-aged woman, with a remarkablj

BY THE JAPANESE SEA. 513
sweet voice, comes to wait upon us at supper-time.
Her teeth are blackened and her eyebrows shaved
after the fashion of married women twenty years
ago ; nevertheless her face is still a pleasant one, and
in bar youth she must have been uncommonly pretty.
Though acting as a servant, it appears that she ia
related to the family owning the inn, and that she ia
treated with the consideration due to kindred. She
tells us that the shoryobune is to be launched for her
husband and brother — both fishermen of the village,
who perished in sight of their own home eight years
ago. The priest of the neighboring Zen temple is to
come in the morning to write the kaimyo upon the
sail, as none of the household are skilled in writing
the Chinese characters.
I make her the customary little gift, and, through
my attendant, ask her various questions about her
history. She was married to a man much older
than herself, with whom she lived very happily ; and
her brother, a youth of eighteen, dwelt with them.
They had a good boat and a little piece of ground,
and she was skillful at the loom ; so they managed to
live well. In summer the fishermen fish at night :
when all the fleet is out, it is pretty to see the line of
torch-fires in the offing, two or three miles away,
Hke a string of stars. They do not go out when the
weather is threatening ; but in certain months the
great storms (taifu) come so quickly that the boats
are overtaken almost before they have time to hoist
sail. Still as a temple pond the sea was on the night
when her husband and brother last sailed away ; the
taifu rose before daybreak. What followed, she
relates with a simple pathos that I cannot reproduce
in our less artless tongue.

514 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
" All the boats had come back except my hus
band's ; for my husband and my brother had gone
out farther than the others, so they were not able
to return as quickly. And all the people were look
ing and waiting. And every minute the waves
seemed to be growing higher and tbe wind more ter
rible ; and the other boats had to be dragged far up
on the shore to save them. Then suddenly we saw
my husband's boat coming very, very quickly. We
were so glad ! It came quite near, so that I could
see the face of my husband and the face of my
brother. But suddenly a great wave struck it upon
one side, and it turned down into the water, and it
did not come up again. And then we saw my hus
band and my brother swimming ; but we could see
them only when the waves lifted them up. Tall like
hills the waves were, and the head of my husband,
and the head of my brother would go up, up, up, and
then down, and each time they rose to the top of a
wave so that we could see them they would cry out,
' Tasukete ! tasukete ! ' ^ But the strong men were
afraid ; the sea was too terrible ; I was only a wo
man ! Then my brother could not be seen any more.
My husband was old, but very strong ; and he swam
a long time, — so near that I could see his face was
like the face of one in fear, — and he called ' Tasu
kete ! ' But none could help him ; and he also went
down at last. And yet I could see his face before he
went down.
" And for a long time after, every night, I used to
see his face as I saw it then, so that I could not
rest, but only weep. And I prayed and prayed to
the Buddhas and to the Kami-Sama that I might not
i"Help! help!"

BY THE JAPANESE SEA. 515
dream that dream. Now it never comes; but I can
still see his face, even while I speak. ... In that
time my son was only a little child."
Not without sobs can she conclude her simple re
cital. Then, suddenly bowing her head to the mat
ting, and wiping away her tears with her sleeve, she
humbly prays our pardon for this little exhibition of
emotion, and laughs — the soft low laugh de rigueur
of Japanese politeness. This, I must confess, touches
me still more than the story itself. At a fitting
moment my Japanese attendant delicately changes
the theme, and begins a light chat about our journey,
and the danna-sama's interest in the old customs and
legends of the coast. And he succeeds in amusing
her by some relation of our wanderings in Izumo.
She asks whither we are going. My attendant
answers probably as far as Tottori.
" Aa ! Tottori ! So degozarimasu ka ? . . . Now,
there is an old story, — the Story of the Futon of
Tottori. But the danna-sama knows that story ? "
Indeed, the danna-sama does not, and begs ear
nestly to hear it. And the story is set down, some
what as I learn it through the lips of my interpreter.
IX.
Many years ago, a very small yadoya in Tottori
town received its first guest, an itinerant merchant.
He was received with more than common kindness,
for the landlord desired to make a good name for
his little inn. It was a new inn, but as its owner
was poor, most of its dogu — furniture and uten
sils — had been purchased from the furuteya.^ Nev-
^ Furuteya, the establishment of a dealer in second-hand wares, — •
fuTuie.

616 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
ertheless, everything was clean, comforting, and
pretty. The guest ate heartily and drank plenty of
good warm sak6 ; after which his bed was prepared
on the soft floor, and he laid himself down to
sleep. [But here I must interrupt the story for a few
moments, to say a word about Japanese beds. Never,
unless some inmate happen to be sick, do you see
a bed in any Japanese house by day, though you
visit all the rooms and peep into all the corners. In
fact, no bed exists, in the Occidental meaning of the
word. That whioh the Japanese call bed has no
bedstead, no spring, no mattress, no sheets, no
blankets. It consists of thick quilts only, stuffed,
or, rather, padded with cotton, which are called
futon. A certain number of futon are laid down
upon the tatami (the floor mats), and a certain num
ber of others are used for coverings. The wealthy
can lie upon five or six quilts, and cover themselves
with as many as they please, while poor folk must
content themselves with two or three. And of course
there are many kinds, frora the servant's cotton fu
ton which is no larger than a Western hearth rug,
and not much thicker, to the heavy and superb fu
ton silk, eight feet long by seven broad, which only
the kanemochi can afford. Besides these there is the
yogi, a massive quilt made with wide sleeves like a
kimono, in which you can find much comfort when
the weather is extremely cold. All such things
are neatly folded up and stowed out of sight by day in
alcoves contrived in the wall and closed with fusuma —
pretty sliding screen doors covered with opaque paper
usually decorated with dainty designs. There also

BY THE JAPANESE SEA. 517
are kept those curious wooden pillows, invented to
preserve the Japanese coiffure from becoming disar
ranged during sleep.
The pillow has a certain sacredness ; but the origin
and the precise nature of the beliefs concerning it
I have not been able to learn. Only this I know,
that to touch it with the foot is considered very
wrong; and that if it be kicked or moved thus, even
by accident, the clumsiness must be atoned for by
lifting the pillow to the forehead with the hands,
and replacing it in its original position respectfully,
with the word " go-men," signifying, I pray to be ex
cused.] Now, as a rule, one sleeps soundly after having
drunk plenty of warm sak^, especially if the night be
cool and the bed very snug. But tbe guest, having
slept but a very little while, was aroused by the
sound of voices in his room, — voices of children,
always asking each other the same questions : —
" Ani-San samukaro ? "
" Omae samukaro ? "
The presence of children in his room might annoy
the guest, but could not surprise him, for in these
Japanese hotels there are no doors, but only papered
sliding screens between room and room. So it
seemed to him that some children must have wan
dered into his apartment, by mistake, in the dark.
He uttered some gentle rebuke. For a moment only
there was silence ; then a sweet, thin, plaintive voice
queried, close to his ear, "Ani-San samukaro?"
[Elder Brother probably is cold ?J, and another sweet
voice made answer caressingly, " Omae samukaro ? "
[Nay, thou probably art cold ?]

518 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
He arose and rekindled the candle in the andon,^
and looked about the room. There was no one. The
shoji were all closed. He examined the cupboards ;
they were empty. Wondering, he lay down again,
leaving the light still burning ; and immediately the
voices spoke again, complainingly, close to his pillow;
" Ani-San samukaro ? "
" Omae samukaro ? "
Then, for the first time, he felt a chill creep over
him, which was not the chill of the night. Again
and again he heard, and each time he became more
afraid. For he knew that the voices were in the
futon ! It was the covering of the bed that cried out
thus. He gathered hurriedly together tbe few articles
belonging to him, and, descending the stairs, aroused
the landlord and told what had passed. Then the
host, much angered, made reply : " That to make
pleased the honorable guest everything has been
done, the truth is ; but the honorable guest too much
august sak^ having drank, bad dreams has seen."
Nevertheless the guest insisted upon paying at once
that which he owed, and seeking lodging elsewhere.
Next evening there came another guest who asked
for a room for the night. At a late hour the land
lord was aroused by his lodger with the same story.
And this lodger, strange to say, had not taken any
sak^. Suspecting some envious plot to ruin his busi
ness, the landlord answered passionately : " Thee to
please all things honorably have been done : never
theless, ill-omened and vexatious words thou utterest.
And that my inn my means-of-livelihood is — that
1 Andon, a paper lantern of peculiar construction, used as a night
light. Some forms of the andon are remarkably beautiful.

BY THE JAPANESE SEA. 519
also thou knowest. Wherefore that such things be
spoken, right-there-is-none I " Then the guest, get
ting into a passion, loudly said things much more
evil ; and the two parted in hot anger.
But after the guest was gone, the landlord, think
ing all this very strange, ascended to the empty
room to examine the futon. And while there, he
heard the voices, and he discovered that the guests
had said only the truth. It was one covering — only
one — which cried out. The rest were silent. He
took the covering into his own room, and for the re
mainder of the night lay down beneath it. And the
voices continued until the hour of dawn : " Ani-San
samukaro ? " " Omae samukaro ? " So that he could
not sleep.
But at break of day he rose up and went out to
find the owner of the furuteya at which the futon had
been purchased. The dealer knew nothing. He had
bought the futon from a smaller shop, and the keeper
of that shop had purchased it from a still poorer
dealer dwelling in the farthest suburb of the city.
And the innkeeper went from one to the other, ask
ing questions.
Then at last it was found that the futon had be
longed to a poor family, and had been bought from
the landlord of a little house in which the family had
lived, in the neighborhood of the town. And the
story of the futon was this : —
The rent of the little house was only sixty sen a
month, but even this was a great deal for the poor
folks to pay. The father could earn only two or
three yen a month, and the mother was ill and
could not work; and there were two children, — a
VOL. n.

520 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
boy of six years and a boy of eight. And they
were strangers in Tottori.
One winter's day the father sickened ; and after a
week of suffering he died, and was buried. Then
the long-sick mother followed him, and the children
were left alone. They knew no one whom they
could ask for aid ; and in order to live they began to
sell what there was to sell.
That was not much : the clothes of the dead
father and mother, and most of their own ; some
quilts of cotton, and a few poor household utensils,
¦ — hibachi, bowls, cups, and other trifles. Every day
they sold something, until there was nothing left but
one futon. And a day came when they had nothing
to eat ; and the rent was not paid.
The terrible Dai-kan had arrived, the season of
greatest cold; and the snow had drifted too high
that day for them to wander far from the little
house. So they could only lie down under their one
futon, and shiver together, and compassionate each
other in their own childish way, —
" Ani-San, samukaro ? "
" Omae samukaro ? "
They had no fire, nor anything with which to
make fire ; and the darkness came ; and tbe icy wind
screamed into the little house.
They were afraid of the wind, but they were
more afraid of the house-owner, who roused them
roughly to demand his rent. He was a hard man,
with an evil face. And finding there was none to
pay him, he turned the children into the snow, and
took their one futon away from them, and locked up
the house.
They had but one thin blue kimono each, for all

BY THE JAPANESE SEA. 521
their other clothes had been sold to buy food ; and
they had nowhere to go. There was a temple of
Kwannon not far awaj', but tbe snow was too high
for them to reach it. So when the landlord was
gone, they crept back behind the house. There the
drowsiness of cold fell upon them, and they slept,
embracing each other to keep warm. And while
they slept, the gods covered them with a new futon,
— ghostly-white and very beautiful. And tbey did
not feel cold any more. For many days they slept
there; then somebody found them, and a bed was
made for them in the hakaba of the Temple of Kwan-
non-of-the-Thousand-Arms. And the innkeeper, having heard these things,
gave the futon to the priests of the temple, and
caused the kyo to be recited for the little souls.
And the futon ceased thereafter to speak.
X.
One legend recalls another; and I hear to-night
many strange ones. The mosb remarkable is a tale
which my attendant suddenly remembers, — a legend
of Izumo.
Once there lived in the Izumo village called Mo-
chida-no-ura a peasant who was so poor that he was
afraid to have children. And each time that his wife
bore him a child he cast it into the river, and pre
tended that it had been born dead. Sometimes it
was a son, sometimes a daughter; but always the
infant was thrown into the river at night. Six were
murdered thus.
But, as the years passed, the peasant found himself

522 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
more prosperous. He had been able to purchase
land and to lay by money. And at last his wife
bore him a seventh child, — a boy.
Then the man said: "Now we can support a
child, and we shall need a son to aid us when we are
old. And this boy is beautiful. So we will bring
him up."
And the infant thrived ; and each day the hard
peasant wondered more at his own heart, — for each
day he knew that he loved his son more.
One summer's night he walked out into his gar
den, carrying his child in his arms. The little one
was five months old.
And the night was so beautiful, with its great
moon, that the peasant cried out, —
"Aa! kon ya medzurashii e yo da!" [Ah! to
night truly a wondrously beautiful night is !]
Then the infant, looking up into his face and
speaking the speech of a man, said, —
" Why, father ! the LAST time you threw me away
the night was just like this, and the moon looked
just the same, did it not ? " ^
And thereafter the child remained as other chil
dren of the same age, and spoke no word.
The peasant became a monk.
XI.
After the supper and the bath, feeling too warm to
sleep, I wander out alone to visit the village hakaba,
a long cemetery upon a sandhill, or rather a pro
digious dune, thinly covered at its summit with soil,
1 " Ototsan ! washi wo shimai ni shitesashita toki mo, chodo kon ya na
\lona tsuki yo datane ?" — Izumo dialect.

BY THE JAPANESE SEA. 523
but revealing through its crumbling flanks the story
of its creation by ancient tides, mightier than tides
of to-day.
I wade to my knees in sand to reach the cemetery.
It is a warm moonlight night, with a great breeze.
There are many bon-lanterns (bondoro), but the sea-
wind has blown out most of them ; only a few here
and there still shed a soft white glow, — pretty
shrine-shaped cases of wood, with apertures of sym
bolic outline, covered with white paper. Visitors
beside myself there are none, for it is late. But
much gentle work has been done here to-day, for
all the bamboo vases have been furnished with fresh
flowers or sprays, and the water basins filled with
fresh water, and the monuments cleansed and beau
tified. And in the farthest nook of the cemetery I
find, before one very humble tomb, a pretty zen or
lacquered dining tray, covered with dishes and bowls
containing a perfect dainty little Japanese repast.
There is also a pair of new chopsticks, and a little
cup of tea, and some of the dishes are still warm. A
loving woman's work ; the prints of her little sandala
are fresh upon the path, XII,
There is an Irish folk-saying that any dream may
be remembered if the dreamer, after awakening, for
bear to scratch his head in the effort to recall it.
But should he forget this precaution, never can the
dream be brought back to memory : as well try to
re-form the curlings of a smoke-wreath blown away.
Nine hundred and ninety -nine of a thousand
dreams are indeed hopelessly evaporative. But cer
tain rare dreams, which come when fancy has been

524 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
strangely impressed by unfamiliar experiences,—
dreams particularly apt to occur in time of travel, — <
remain in recollection, imaged with all the vividness
of real events.
Of such was the dream I dreamed at Hamamura,
after having seen and heard those things previously
written down.
Some pale broad paved place — perhaps the thought
of a temple court — tinted by a faint sun ; and be
fore me a woman, neither young nor old, seated at
the base of a great gray pedestal that supported I
know not what, for I could look only at the
woman's face. Awhile I thought that I remembered
her — a woman of Izumo; then she seemed a weird
ness. Her lips were moving, but her eyes remained
closed, and I could not choose but look at her.
And in a voice that seemed to come thin through
distance of years she began a soft wailing chant;
and, as I listened, vague memories came to me of a
Celtic lullaby. And as she sang, she loosed with
one hand her long black hair, till it fell coiling upon
the stones. And, having fallen, it was no longer
black, but blue, — pale day-blue, — and was moving
sinuously, crawling with swift blue ripplings to and
fro. And then, suddenly, I becarae aware that the
ripplings were far, very far away, and that the
woman was gone. There was only the sea, blue-
billowing to the verge of heaven, with long slow
flashings of soundless surf.
And wakening, I heard in the night the muttering
of the real sea, — the vast husky speech of the
Hotoke-Umi, — the Tide of the Returning Ghosts.

XXII
OF A DANCING-GIRL.
Nothing is more silent than the beginning of a
Japanese banquet ; and no one, except a native, who
observes the opening scene could possibly imagine
the tumultuous ending.
The robed guests take their places, quite noiselessly
and without speech, upon the kneeling-cushions. The
lacquered services are laid upon the matting before
them by maidens whose bare feet make no sound.
For a while there is only smiling and flitting, as in
dreams. You are not likely to hear any voices from
without, as a banqueting-house is usually secluded
from the street by spacious gardens. At last the
master of ceremonies, host or provider, breaks the
hush with the consecrated formula: " 0-somatsu
degozarimasu ga ! — dozo o-hashi ! " whereat all pres
ent bow silently, take up their hashi (chopsticks),
and fall to. But hashi, deftly used, cannot be heard
at all. The maidens pour warm sak^ into the cup of
each guest without making the least sound ; and it is
not until several dishes have been emptied, and sev
eral cups of sak^ absorbed, that tongues are loosened.
Then, all at once, with a little burst of laughter,
a number of young girls enter, make the customary
prostration of greeting, glide into the open space be
tween the ranks of the guests, and begin to serve the
wine with a grace and dexterity of which no common
maid is capable. They are pretty ; they are clad in
very costly robes of silk ; they are girdled like

626 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
queens ; and the beautifully dressed hair of each is
decked with mock flowers, with wonderful combs and
pins, and with curious ornaments of gold. They
greet the stranger as if they had always known him ;
they jest, laugh, and utter funny little cries. These
are the geisha,^ or dancing-girls, hired for the ban
quet. Samisen ^ tinkle. The dancers withdraw to a clear
space at the farther end of the banqueting-hall, al
ways vast enough to admit of many more guests than
ever assemble upon common occasions. Some form
the orchestra, under the direction of a woman of
uncertain age ; there are several samisen, and a tiny
drum played by a child. Others, singly or in pairs,
perform the dance. It may be swift and merry, con
sisting wholly of graceful posturing, — two girls
dancing together with such coincidence of step and
gesture as only years of training could render possi
ble. But more frequently it is rather like acting
than like what we Occidentals call dancing, — acting
accompanied with extraordinary waving of sleeves
and fans, and with a play of eyes and features, sweet,
subtle, subdued, wholly Oriental. There are more
voluptuous dances known to geisha, but upon ordi
nary occasions and before refined audiences they por
tray beautifnl old Japanese traditions, like the legend
of the fisher Urashima, beloved by the Sea God's
daughter ; and at intervals they sing ancient Chinese
poems, expressing a natural emotion with delicious
vividness by a few exquisite words. And always
they pour the wine, — that warm, pale yellow, drowsy
wine which fills the veins with soft contentment,
making a faint sense of ecstasy, through which, as
1 The Kyoto word is maiko. ^ Guitars of three strings.

OF A DANCING-GIRL. 527
through some poppied sleep, the commonplace be
comes wondrous and blissful, and the geisha Maids of
Paradise, and the world much sweeter than, in the
natural order of things, it could ever possibly be.
The banquet, at first so silent, slowly changes to
a merry tumult. The company break ranks, form
groups ; and from group to group the girls pass,
laughing, prattling, — still pouring sak^ into the cups
which are being exchanged and emptied with low
bows.^ Men begin to sing old samurai songs, old
Chinese poems. One or two even dance. A geisha
tucks her robe well up to her knees ; and the
samisen strike up the quick melody, "Kompira
fmiS-funS." As the music plays, she begins to run
lightly and swiftly in a figure of 8, and a young
man, carrying a sak^ bottle and cup, also runs in the
same figure of 8. If the two meet on a line, the one
through whose error the meeting happens must drink
a cup of sak^. The music becomes quicker and
quicker and the runners run faster and faster, for
they must keep time to the melody ; and the geisha
wins. In another part of the room, guests and geisha
are playing ken. They sing as they play, facing
each other, and clap their hands, and fling out their
fingers at intervals with little cries ; and the samisen
keep time. Choito, — don-don !
Otagaidani ;
Choito, — don-don !
Oidemashitan^ ;
Choito, — don-don I
ShimaimashitanA
Now, to play ken with a geisha requires a perfectly
' It is sometimes customary for guests to exchange cups, after
duly rinsing them. It is always a compliment to ask for your friend's
cup.

528 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
cool bead, a quick eye, and much practice. Having
been trained from childhood to play all kinds of ken,
— and there are many, — she generally loses only
for politeness, when she loses at all. The signs of
the most common ken are a Man, a Fox, and a Gun.
If the geisha make the sign of the Gun, you must
instantly, and in exact time to the music, make the
sign of the Fox, who cannot use the Gun. For if you
make the sign of the Man, then she will answer with
the sign of the Fox, who can deceive the Man, and
you lose. And if she make the sign of tbe Fox first,
then you should make the sign of the Gun, by which
the Fox can be killed. But all the while you must
watch her bright eyes and supple hands. These are
pretty ; and if you suffer yourself, just for one frac
tion of a second, to think how pretty they are, you
are bewitched and vanquished.
Notwithstanding all this apparent comradeship, a
certain rigid decorum between guest and geisha is
invariably preserved at a Japanese banquet. How
ever flushed with vnne a guest may bave become,
you will never see him attempt to caress a girl ; he
never forgets that she appears at the festivities only
as a human flower, to be looked at, not to be touched.
The familiarity which foreign tourists in Japan fre
quently permit themselves with geisha or with waiter-
girls, though endured with smiling patience, is really
much disliked, and considered by native observers an
evidence of extreme vulgarity.
For a time the merriment grows ; but as midnight
draws near, the guests begin to slip away, one by
one, unnoticed. Then the din gradually dies down,
the music stops ; and at last the geisha, having es-
corted the latest of the feasters to the door, with

OF A DANCING-GIRL. 529
laughing cries of Sayonara, can sit down alone to
break their long fast in the deserted hall.
Such is the geisha's role. But what is the mystery
of her ? What are her thoughts, her emotions, her
secret self ? What is her veritable existence beyond
the night circle of the banquet lights, far from the
illusion formed around her by the mist of wine ? Is
she always as mischievous as she seems while her
voice ripples out with mocking sweetness the words
of the ancient song ?
Kimi to neyaru ka, go sengoku toruka ?
Nanno gosengoku kimi to neyo ? ^
Or might we think her capable of keeping that pas
sionate promise she utters so deliciously ?
Omae shindara tera ewa yaranu !
Yaete konishite sake de nomu. ^
" Why, as for that," a friend tells me, " there was
O-Kama of Osaka who realized the song only last
year. For she, having collected from the funeral
pile the ashes of her lover, mingled them with sak6,
and at a banquet drank them, in the presence of many
guests." In the presence of many guests ! Alas for
romance 1
Always in the dwelling which a band of geisha
1 " Once more to rest beside her, or keep five thousand koku ?
What care I for koku ? Let me be with her ; "
There lived in ancient times a hatamoto called Fuji-eda Geki, a vas-
tal of the Shogun. He had an income of five thousand koku of rice,
— a great income in those days. But he fell in love with an inmate
of the Yoshiwara, named Ayaginu, and wished to marry her. When
his master bade the vassal choose between his fortune and his passion,
the lovers fled secretly to a farmer's house, and there committed sui
cide together. And the above song was made about them. It is still
«ung. * "Dear, shouldst thou die, grave shaU hold thee never!
1 thy body's ashes, mixed with wine, will drink."

530 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
occupy there is a strange image placed in the alcove.
Sometimes it is of clay, rarely of gold, most com
monly of porcelain. It is reverenced : offerings are
made to it, sweetmeats and rice bread and wine ; in
cense smoulders in front of it, and a lamp is burned
before it. It is the image of a kitten erect, one paw
outstretched as if inviting, — whence its name, " the
Beckoning Kitten." ^ It is the genius loci : it brings
good-fortune, the patronage of the rich, the favor of
banquet-givers. Now, they who know the soul of the
geisha aver that the semblance of the image is the
semblance of herself, — playful and pretty, soft and
young, lithe and caressing, and cruel as a devouring
fire. Worse, also, than this they have said of her : that
in her shadow treads the God of Poverty, and that
the Fox-women are her sisters ; that she is the ruin
of youth, the waster of fortunes, the destroyer of
families ; that she knows love only as the source of
the folhes wbich are her gain, and grows rich upon
the substance of men whose graves she has made;
that she is the most consummate of pretty hypo
crites, the most dangerous of schemers, the most
insatiable of mercenaries, the most pitiless of mis
tresses. This cannot all be true. Yet thus much is
true, — that, hke the kitten, the geisha is by pro
fession a creature of prey. There are many really
lovable kittens. Even so there must be really de
lightful dancing-girls.
The geisha is only what she has been made in
answer to foolish human desire for the illusion of
love mixed with youth and grace, but without regrets
or responsibilities: wherefore she has been taught,
1 Maneki-Neko.

OF A DANCING-GIRL. 581
besides ken, to play at hearts. Now, the eternal law
is that people may play with impunity at any game
in this unhappy world except three, which are called
Life, Love, and Death. Those the gods have re
served to themselves, because nobody else can learn
to play them without doing mischief. Therefore, to
play with a geisha any game much more serious than
ken, or at least go, is displeasing to the gods.
The girl begins her career as a slave, a pretty child
bought from miserably poor parents under a contract,
according to which her services may be claimed by
the purchasers for eighteen, twenty, or even twenty-
five years. She is fed, clothed, and trained in a house
occupied only by geisha ; and she passes the rest of
her childhood under severe discipline. She is taught
etiquette, grace, polite speech ; she has daily lessons
in dancing ; and she is obliged to learn by heart a
multitude of songs with their airs. Also she must
learn games, the service of banquets and weddings,
the art of dressing and looking beautiful. Whatever
physical gifts she may have are carefully cultivated.
Afterwards she is taught to handle musical instru
ments : first, the little drum (tsudzumi), which can
not be sounded at all without considerable practice ;
then she learns to play the samisen a little, with a
plectrum of tortoise-shell or ivory. At eight or nine
years of age she attends banquets, chiefly as a drum-
player. She is then the most charming little creature
imaginable, and already knows how to fill your wine-
cup exactly full, with a single toss of the bottle and
without spilling a drop, between two taps of her
drum. Thereafter her discipline becomes more cruel. Het

532 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
voice may be flexible enough, but lacks the requisite
strength. In the iciest hours of winter nights, she
must ascend to the roof of her dwelling-house, and
there sing and play till the blood oozes from her
fingers and the voice dies in her throat. The desired
result is an atrocious cold. After a period of hoarse
whispering, her voice changes its tone and strength
ens. She is ready to become a public singer and
dancer. In this capacity she usually makes her first appear
ance at the age of twelve or thirteen. If pretty and
skillful, her services will be much in demand, and
her time paid for at the rate of twenty to twenty-five
sen per hour. Then only do her purchasers begin to
reimburse themselves for the time, expense, and
trouble of her training ; and they are not apt to be
generous. For many years more all that she earns
must pass into their hands. She can own nothing,
not even her clothes.
At seventeen or eighteen she has made her artistic
reputation. She has been at many hundreds of en
tertainments, and knows by sight all the important
personages of her city, the character of each, the his
tory of all. Her life has been chiefly a night life;
rarely has she seen the sun rise since she became a
dancer. She has learned to drink wine without ever
losing her head, and to fast for seven or eight hours
without ever feeling the worse. She has had many
lovers. To a certain extent she is free to smile upon
whom she pleases ; but she has been well taught, above
all else to use her power of charm for her own advan
tage. She hopes to find Somebody able and willing
to buy her freedom, — which Somebody would al
most certainly thereafter discover many new and

OF A DANCING-GIRL. 533
excellent meanings in those Buddhist texts that tell
about the foolishness of love and the impermanency
of all human relationships.
At this point of her career we may leave the
geisha : thereafter her story is apt to prove unpleas
ant, unless she die young. Should that happen, she
will have the obsequies of her class, and her memory
will be preserved by divers curious rites.
Some time, perhaps, while wandering through Jap
anese streets at night, you hear sounds of music, a
tinkling of samisen floating through the great gate
way of a Buddhist temple, together with shrill voices
of singing-girls ; which may seem to you a strange
happening. And the deep court is thronged with
people looking and listening. Then, making your
way through the press to the temple steps, you see
two geisha seated upon the matting within, playing
and singing, and a third dancing before a little table.
Upon the table is an ihai, or mortuary tablet ; in
front of the tablet burns a little lamp, and incense in
a cup of bronze; a small repast has been placed
there, fruits and dainties, — such a repast as, upon
festival occasions, it is the custom to offer to the
dead. You learn that the kaimyo upon the tablet is
that of a geisha ; and that the comrades of the dead
girl assemble in the temple on certain days to glad
den her spirit with songs and dances. Then who
soever pleases may attend the ceremony free of
charge. But the dancing-girls of ancient times were not
as the geisha of to-day. Some of them were called
shirabyoshi ; and their hearts were not extremely
hard. They were beautiful ; they wore queerly

534 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
shaped caps bedecked with gold ; they were clad in
splendid attire, and danced with swords in the dwell
ings of princes. And tbere is an old story about
one of them which I think it worth while to tell,
I.
It was formerly, and indeed still is, a custom with
young Japanese artists to travel on foot through
various parts of the empire, in order to see and
sketch the most celebrated scenery as well as to
study famous art objects preserved in Buddhist tem
ples, many of which occupy sites of extraordinary
picturesqueness. It is to such wanderings, chiefly,
that we owe the existence of those beautiful books of
landscape views and life studies which are now so
curious and rare, and which teach better than aught
else that only the Japanese can paint Japanese scen
ery. After you have become acquainted with their
methods of interpreting their own nature, foreign
attempts in the same line will seem to you strangely
flat and soulless. The foreign artist will give you
reahstic reflections of what he sees ; but he will give
you nothing more. The Japanese artist gives you
that which he feels, — the mood of a season, the pre
cise sensation of an hour and place ; his work is
qualified by a power of suggestiveness rarely found
in the art of the West. The Occidental painter
renders minute detail ; he satisfies the imagination he
evokes. But his Oriental brother either suppresses
or idealizes detail, — steeps his distances in mist,
bands bis landscapes with cloud, makes of his experi.
ence a memory in which only the strange and the
beautiful survive, with their sensations. He sur
passes imagination, excites it, leaves it hungry with

OF A DANCING-GIRL. 535
the hunger of charm perceived in glimpses only.
Nevertheless, in such glimpses he is able to convey
the feeling of a time, the character of a place, after a
fashion that seems magical. He is a painter of recol
lections and of sensations rather than of clear-cut
realities ; and in this lies the secret of his amazing
power, — a power not to be appreciated by those
who have never witnessed the scenes of his inspira
tion. He is above all things impersonal. His hu
man figures are devoid of all individuality ; yet they
have inimitable merit as types embodying the char
acteristics of a class: the childish curiosity of the
peasant, the shyness of the maiden, the fascination
of the joro, the self-consciousness of the samurai, the
funny, placid prettiness of the child, the resigned
gentleness of age. Travel and observation were the
influences which developed this art ; it was never a
growth of studios.
A great many years ago, a young art student was
traveling on foot from Kyoto to Yedo, over the
mountains. The roads then were few and bad, and
travel was so difficult compared to what it is now
that a proverb was current, Kawai ko wa tabi wo sasS
(A pet child should be made to travel). But the
land was what it is to-day. There were the same for
ests of cedar and of pine, the same groves of bamboo,
the same peaked villages with roofs of thatch, the
same terraced rice-fields dotted with the great yellow
straw hats of peasants bending in the slime. From
the wayside, the same statues of Jizo smiled upon
the same pilgrim figures passing to the same temples ;
and then, as now, of summer days, one might see

636 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
naked brown children laughing in all the shallow
rivers, and all the rivers laughing to the sun.
The young art student, however, was no kawai ko :
he had already traveled a great deal, was inured to
hard fare and rough lodging, and accustomed to make
the best of every situation. But upon this journey
he found himself, one evening after sunset, in a
region where it seemed possible to obtain neither
fare nor lodging of any sort, — out of sight of culti
vated land. While attempting a short cut over a
range to reach some viUage, he had lost his way.
There was no moon, and pine shadows made black
ness all around him. The district into which he had
wandered seemed utterly wild ; there were no sounds
but the humming of the wind in the pine-needles,
and an infinite tinkling of bell-insects. He stumbled
on, hoping to gain some river bank, which he could
follow to a settlement. At last a stream abruptly
crossed his way ; but it proved to be a swift torrent
pouring into a gorge between precipices. Obliged to
retrace his steps, he resolved to climb to the nearest
summit, whence he might be able to discern some
sign of human life ; but on reaching it he could see
about him only a heaping of hills.
He had almost resigned himself to passing the
night under the stars, when he perceived, at some
distance down the farther slope of the hill he had
ascended, a single thin yellow ray of light, evidently
issuing from some dwelling. He made his way to
wards it, and soon discerned a small cottage, appar-
ently a peasant's home. The light he had seen still
streamed from it, through a chink in the closed
storm-doors. He hastened forward, and knocked at
the entrance.

OF A DANCING-GIRL. 537
n.
Not until he had knocked and called several times
did he hear any stir within ; then a woman's voice
asked what was wanted. The voice was remarka
bly sweet, and the speech of the unseen questioner
surprised him, for she spoke in the cultivated idiom
of the capital. He responded that he was a student,
who had lost his way in the mountains ; that he
wished, if possible, to obtain food and lodging for
the night ; and that if this could not be given, he
would feel very grateful for information how to reach
the nearest village, — adding that he had means
enough to pay for the services of a guide. The voice,
in return, asked several other questions, indicating
extreme surprise that any one could have reached
the dwelling from the direction he had taken. But
his answers evidently allayed suspicion, for the in
mate exclaimed: "I will come in a moment. It
would be difficult for you to reach any village to
night ; and the path is dangerous."
After a brief delay the storm-doors were pushed
open, and a woman appeared with a paper lantern,
which she so held as to illuminate the stranger's
face, while her own remained in shadow. She scru
tinized him in silence, then said briefly, " Wait ; I
will bring water." She fetched a wash-basin, set it
npon tbe doorstep, aud offered the guest a towel.
He removed his sandals, washed from his feet the
dust of travel, and was shovrn into a neat roora which
appeared to occupy the whole interior, except a
small boarded space at the rear, used as a kitchen.
A cotton zabuton was laid for him to kneel upon,
and a brazier set before him.

638 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
It was only then that he had a good opportunity
of observing his hostess, and he was startled by the
delicacy and beauty of her features. She might
have been three or four years older than he, but was
still in the bloom of youth. Certainly she was not
a peasant girl. In the same singularly sweet voice
she said to him : " I am now alone, and I never re
ceive guests here. But I am sure it would be dan
gerous for you to travel farther to-night. There are
some peasants in the neighborhood, but you cannot
find your way to them in the dark without a guide.
So I can let you stay here until morning. You will
not be comfortable, but I can give you a bed. And
I suppose you are hungry. There is only some
shojin-ryori,^ — not at all good, but you are welcomo
to it."
The traveler was quite hungry, and only too glad
of the offer. The young woman kindled a little fire,
prepared a few dishes in silence, — stewed leaves
of na, some aburag^, some kampyo, and a bowl of
coarse rice, — and quickly set the meal before him,
apologizing for its quality. But during his repast
she spoke scarcely at all, and her reserved manner
embarrassed him. As she answered the few ques
tions he ventured upon merely by a bow or by 9
solitary word, he soon refrained from attempting tc
press the conversation.
Meanwhile, he had observed tbat the small house
was spotlessly clean, and the utensils in which his
food was served were immaculate. The few cheap
objects in the apartment were pretty. The fusuma
of the oshiire and zendana^ were of white paper
¦ Buddhist food, containing no animal substance. Some kinds of
ihojin-ryori are quite appetizing.
* The terms oshiire and zendana might be partly rendered bj

OF A DANCING-GlRi.. 539
only, but had been decorated with large Chinese
characters exquisitely written, characters suggesting,
according to the law of such decoration, the favorite
themes of the poet and artist: Spring Flowers,
Mountain and Sea, Summer Rain, Sky and Stars,
Autumn Moon, River Water, Autumn Breeze. At
one side of the apartment stood a kind of low altar,
supporting a butsudan, whose tiny lacquered doors,
left open, showed a mortuary tablet within, before
which a lamp was burning between offerings of wild
flowers. And above this household shrine hung a
picture of more than common merit, representing
the Goddess of Mercy, wearing the moon for her
aureole. As the student ended his little meal the young
woman observed: "I cannot offer you a good bed,
and there is only a paper mosquito-curtain. The
bed and the curtain are mine, but to-night I have
many things to do, and shall have no time to sleep;
therefore I beg you will try to rest, though I am not
able to make you comfortable."
He then understood that she was, for some strange
reason, entirely alone, and was voluntarily giving up
her only bed to him upon a kindly pretext. He pro
tested honestly against such an excess of hospitality,
and assured her that he could sleep quite soundly any
where on the floor, and did not care about the mos
quitoes. But she replied, in the tone of an elder
sister, that he must obey her wishes. She really had
something to do, and she desired to be left by herself
as soon as possible ; therefore, understanding him to
be a gentleman, she expected he would suffer her to
" wardrobe " and " cupboard." The fusuma are sliding screens serr-
kg aa doors.

540 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
arrange matters in her own way. To this he could
offer no objection, as there was but one room. She
spread the mattress on the floor, fetched a wooden
pillow, suspended her paper mosquito - curtain, un
folded a large screen on the side of the bed toward
the butsudan, and then bade him good-night in a
manner that assured him she wished him to retire at
once ; which he did, not without some reluctance at
the thought of all the trouble he had unintentionally
caused her. ni.
Unwilling as the young traveler felt to accept a
kindness involving the sacrifice of another's repose,
he found the bed more than comfortable. He was
very tired, and had scarcely laid his head upon the
wooden pillow before he forgot everything in sleep.
Yet only a little while seemed to have passed
when he was awakened by a singular sound. It was
certainly the sound of feet, but not of feet walking
softly. It seemed rather the sound of feet in rapid
motion, as of excitement. Then it occurred to him
that robbers might have entered the house. As for
himself, he had little to fear because he had little to
lose. His anxiety was chiefly for the kind person
who had granted him hospitality. Into each side
of the paper mosquito - curtain a small square of
brown netting had been fitted, like a little window,
and through one of these he tried to look ; but the
high screen stood between him and whatever was
going on. He thought of calling, but this impulse
was checked by the reflection that in case of real
danger it would be both useless and imprudent to
announce his presence before understanding the situ
ation. The sounds which had made him uneasy con?

OF A DANCING-GIRL. 541
tinued, and were more and more mysterious. He
resolved to prepare for the worst, and to risk his life,
if necessary, in order to defend his young hostess.
Hastily girding up his robes, he slipped noiselessly
from under the paper curtain, crept to the edge of
the screen, and peeped. What he saw astonished
him extremely.
Before her illuminated butsudan the young woman,
magnificently attired, was dancing all alone. Her
costume he recognized as that of a shirabyoshi,
though much richer than any he had ever seen worn
by a professional dancer. Marvelously enhanced by
it, her beauty, in that lonely time and place, ap
peared almost supernatural ; but what seemed to him
even more wonderful was her dancing. For an in
stant he felt the tingling of a weird doubt. The
superstitions of peasants, the legends of Fox-women,
flashed before his imagination ; but the sight of the
Buddhist shrine, of the sacred picture, dissipated the
fancy, and shamed him for the folly of it. At the
same time he became conscious that he was watching
something she had not wished him to see, and that it
was his duty, as her guest, to return at once behind
the screen ; but the spectacle fascinated him. He
felt, with not less pleasure than amazement, that he
was looking upon the most accomplished dancer he
had ever seen ; and the more he watched, the more
the witchery of her grace grew upon him. Suddenly
she paused, panting, unfastened her girdle, turned in
the act of doffing her upper robe, and started vio
lently as her eyes encountered his own.
He tried at once to excuse himself to her. He
said he had been suddenly awakened by the sound of
quick feet, which sound had caused him some un-

542 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
easiness, chiefly for her sake, because of the lateness
of the hour and the lonesomeness of the place. Then
he confessed his surprise at what he had seen, and
spoke of the manner in which it had attracted him,
" I beg you," he continued, " to forgive my curiosity,
for I cannot help wondering wbo you are, and how
you could have become so marvelous a dancer. All
the dancers of Saikyo I have seen, yet I have never
seen among the most celebrated of them a girl who
could dance like you ; and once I had begun to watch
you, I could not take away my eyes."
At first she had seemed angry, but before he had
ceased to speak her expression changed. She smiled,
and seated herself before him. "No, I am not angry
with you," she said. " I am only sorry that you
should have watched me, for I am sure you must
bave thought me mad when you saw me dancing that
way, all by myself ; and now I must tell you the
meaning of what you have seen."
So she related her story. Her name he remem
bered to have heard as a boy, — her professional
name, the name of the most famous of shirabyoshi,
the darling of the capital, who, in the zenith of her
fame and beauty, had suddenly vanished from public
life, none knew whither or why. She had fled from
wealth and fortune with a youth who loved her.
He was poor, but between them they possessed
enough means to live simply and happily in the
country. They built a little house in the mountains,
and there for a number of years they existed only
for each other. He adored her. One of his greatest
pleasures was to see her dance. Each evening he
would play some favorite melody, and she would
dance for him. But one long cold winter he fell sick.

OF A DANCING-GIRL. 543
and, in spite of her tender nursing, died. Since then
she had lived alone with the memory of him, per
forming all those small rites of love and homage
with which the dead are honored. Daily before his
tablet she placed the customary offerings, and nightly
danced to please him, as of old. And this was the
explanation of what the young traveler had seen. It
was indeed rude, she continued, to have awakened
her tired guest ; but she had waited until she thought
him soundly sleeping, and then she had tried to dance
very, very lightly. So she hoped be would pardon
her for having unintentionally disturbed him.
When she had told him all, she made ready a little
tea, which they drank together ; then she entreated
him so plaintively to please her by trying to sleep
again that he found himself obliged to go back, with
many sincere apologies, under the paper mosquito-
curtain. He slept well and long ; the sun was high before
he woke. On rising, he found prepared for him a
meal as simple as that of the evening before, and he
felt hungry. Nevertheless he ate sparingly, fearing
the young woman might have stinted herself in thus
providing for him ; and then he made ready to de
part. But when he wanted to pay her for what he
had received, and for all the trouble he had given
her, she refused to take anything from him, saying :
" What I had to give was not worth money, and
what I did was done for kindness alone. So I pray
that you will try to forget the discomfort you saf
fered here, and will remember only the good-will oi.
one who had nothing to offer."
He still endeavored to induce her to accept some
thing; but at last, findinig that his insistence only

544 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
gave her pain, he took leave of her with such words
as he could find to express his gratitude, and not
without a secret regret, for her beauty and her gen
tleness had charmed bim more than he would have
liked to acknowledge to any but herself. She indi
cated to him the path to follow, and watched him
descend the mountain until he had passed from sight.
An hour later he found himself upon a highway with
which he was familiar. Then a sudden remorse
touched him : he had forgotten to tell her his name :
For an instant he hesitated ; then said to himself,
" What matters it ? I shall be always poor." And
he went on. IV.
Many years passed by, and many fashions with
them ; and the painter became old. But ere becom
ing old he had become famous. Princes, charmed
by the wonder of his work, had vied with one another
in giving him patronage ; so that he grew rich, and
possessed a beautiful dwelling of bis own in the City
of the Emperors. Young artists from many prov
inces were his pupils, and lived with him, serving
him in all things while receiving his instruction ; and
his name was known throughout the land.
Now, there came one day to his house an old wo
man, who asked to speak with him. The servants,
seeing that she was meanly dressed and of miserable
appearance, took her to be some common beggar, and
questioned her roughly. But when she answered :
" I can tell to no one except your master why I have
come," they believed her mad, and deceived her, say
ing : " He is not now in Saikyo, nor do we know how
«oon he will return."
But the old woman came again and again, — day

OF A DANCING-GIRL. 545
after day, and week after week, — each time being
told something that was not true : " To-day he is
ill," or, " To-day he is very busy," or, " To-day be
has much company, and therefore cannot see you."
Nevertheless she continued to come, always at the
same hour each day, and always carrying a bundle
wrapped in a ragged covering ; and the servants at
last thought it were best to speak to their master
about ber. So they said to him : " There is a very
old woman, whom we take to be a beggar, at our
lord's gate. More than fifty times she has come,
asking to see our lord, and refusing to tell us why, —
saying that she can tell her wishes only to our lord.
And we have tried to discourage her, as she seemed
to be mad ; but she always comes. Therefore we
have presumed to mention the matter to our lord, in
order that we may learn what is to be done here
after." Then the Master answered sharply : " Why did
none of you tell me of this before ? " and went out
himself to the gate, and spoke very kindly to the
woman, remembering how he also had been poor.
And he asked her if she desired alms of him.
But she answered that she had no need of money
or of food, and only desired that he would paint for
her a picture. He wondered at her wish, and bade
her enter his house. So she entered into the vesti
bule, and, kneeling there, began to untie the knots of
the bundle she had brought with her. When she had
unwrapped it, the painter perceived curious rich
quaint garments of silk broidered with designs in
gold, yet much frayed and discolored by wear and
time, — the wreck of a wonderful costume of other
days, the attire of a shirabyoshi.

646 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
While the old woman unfolded the garments one
by one, and tried to smooth them with her trem
bling fingers, a memory stirred in the Master's brain,
thrilled dimly there a little space, then suddenly
hghted up. In that soft shock of recollection, he
saw again the lonely mountain dwelling in which he
had received unremunerated hospitality, — the tiny
room prepared for his rest, the paper mosquito-cur
tain, the faintly burning lamp before the Buddhist
shrine, the strange beauty of one dancing there alone
in the dead of the night. Then, to the astonishment
of the aged visitor, he, the favored of princes, bowed
low before her, and said : " Pardon my rudeness in
having forgotten your face for a moment; but it is
more than forty years since we last saw each other.
Now I remember you well. You received me once
at your house. You gave up to me the only bed
you had. I saw you dance, and you told me all
your story. You had been a shirabyoshi, and I have
not forgotten your name."
He uttered it. She, astonished and confused, could
not at first reply to him, for she was old and had suf
fered much, and her memory had begun to fail. But
he spoke more and more kindly to her, and reminded
her of many things which she had told him, and
described to her the house in which she had lived
alone, so that at last she also remembered; and she
answered, with tears of pleasure : " Surely the Divine
One who looketh down above the sound of prayer has
guided me. But when my unworthy home was hon-
ored by the visit of the august Master, I was not as
I now am. And it seems to me like a miracle of our
Lord Buddha that the Master should remember me."
Then she related the rest of her simple story. In

OF A DANCING-GIRL. b¥l
the course of years, she had become, through pov
erty, obliged to part with her little house ; and in
her old age she had returned alone to the great city,
in which her name had long been forgotten. It had
caused her much pain to lose her home ; but it
grieved her still more that, in becoming weak and
old, she could no longer dance each evening before
the butsudan, to please the spirit of the dead whom
she had loved. Therefore she wanted to have a pic
ture of herself painted, in the costume and the atti
tude of the dance, that she might suspend it before
the butsudan. For this she had prayed earnestly
to Kwannon. And she had sought out the Master
because of bis fame as a painter, since she desired, for
the sake of the dead, no common work, but a picture
painted with great skill ; and she had brought her
dancing attire, hoping that the Master might be will
ing to paint her therein.
He listened to all with a kindly smile, and answered
her : " It will be only a pleasure for me to paint the
picture which you want. This day I have something
to finish which cannot be delayed. But if you will
come here to-morrow, I will paint you exactly as you
wish, and as well as I am able."
But she said : " I have not yet told to the Master
the thing which most troubles me. And it is this, —
that I can offer in return for so great a favor nothing
except these dancer's clothes ; and they are of no value
in themselves, though they were costly once. Still,
I hoped the Master might be willing to take them,
seeing they have become curious ; for there are no
more shirabyoshi, and the maiko of these times wear
no such robes."
"Of that matter," the good painter exclaimed.

548 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
" you must not think at all ! No ; I am glad to have
this present chance of paying a small part of my old
debt to you. So to-morrow I will paint you just as
you wish."
She prostrated herself thrice before hira, uttering
thanks, and then said, " Let my lord pardon, though
I have yet something more to say. For I do not wish
that he should paint me as I now am, but only as I
used to be when I was young, as my lord knew me."
He said : " I remember well. You were very beau
tiful." Her wrinkled features lighted up with pleasure, as
she bowed her thanks to him for those words. And
she exclaimed : " Then indeed all that I hoped and
prayed for may be done ! Since he thus remembers
my poor youth, I beseech my lord to paint me, not as
I now am, but as he saw me when I was not old and,
as it has pleased him generously to say, not uncomely.
O Master, make me young again ! Make me seem
beautiful that I may seem beautiful to the soul of
him for whose sake I, the unworthy, beseech this !
He will see the Master's work : he will forgive me
that I can no longer dance."
Once more the Master bade her have no anxiety,
and said : " Come to-morrow, and I will paint you.
I will make a picture of you just as you were when I
saw you, a young and beautiful shirabyoshi, and I
will paint it as carefully and as skillfully as if I were
painting the picture of the richest person in the land.
Never doubt, but come." .
V.
So the aged dancer came at the appointed hour ;
and upon soft white silk the artist painted a picture

OF A DANCING-GIRL. 549
of her. Yet not a picture of her as she seemed to
the Master's pupils, but the memory of her as she had
been in the days of her youth, bright-eyed as a bird,
lithe as a bamboo, dazzling as a tennin ^ in her raiment
of silk and gold. Under the magic of the Master's
brush, the vanished grace returned, the faded beauty
bloomed again. When the kakemono had been fin
ished, and stamped with his seal, he mounted it richly
upon silken cloth, and fixed to it rollers of cedar with
ivory weights, and a silken cord by which to hang it ;
and he placed it in a little box of white wood, and so
gave it to the shirabyoshi. And he would also have
presented her with a gift of money. But though he
pressed her earnestly, he could not persuade her to
accept his help. " Nay," she made answer, with
tears, " indeed I need nothing. The picture only I
desired. For that I prayed ; and now my prayer has
been answered, and I know that I never can wish for
anything more in this life, and that if I come to die
thus desiring nothing, to enter upon the way of Bud
dha will not be difficult. One thought alone causes
me sorrow, — that I have nothing to offer to the
Master but this dancer's apparel, which is indeed of
little worth, though I beseech him to accept it ; and
I will pray each day that his future life may be a life
of happiness, because of the wondrous kindness which
he has done me."
" Nay," protested the painter, smiling, " what is it
that I have done ? Truly nothing. As for the dancer's
garments, I will accept them, if that can make you
more happy. They will bring back pleasant memo
ries of the night I passed in your home, when you
gave up all your comforts for my unworthy sake, and
[ 1 Tennin, a " Sky-Maiden," a Buddhist angel.

550 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
yet would not suffer me to pay for that which I used ;
and for that kindness I hold myself to be still in your
debt. But now tell me where you live, so that I
may see the picture in its place." For he had re
solved within himself to place her beyond the reach
of want.
But she excused herself with humble words, and
would not tell him, saying that her dwelling-place
was too mean to be looked upon by such as he ; and
then, with many prostrations, she thanked him again
and again, and went away with her treasure, weeping
for joy.
Then the Master called to one of his pupils : " Go
quickly after that woman, but so that she does not
know herself followed, and bring me word wheie
she lives," So the young man followed her, unper
ceived. He remained long away, and when he returned he
laughed in the manner of one obliged to say some
thing which it is not pleasant to hear, and he said :
" That woman, O Master, I followed out of the city
to the dry bed of the river, near to the place where
criminals are executed. There I saw a hut such as
an Eta might dwell in, and that is where she lives.
A forsaken and filthy place, O Master ! "
" Nevertheless," the painter replied, " to-morrow
you will take me to that forsaken and filthy place.
What time I live she shall not suffer for food or
clothing or comfort."
And as all wondered, he told them the story of the
shirabyoshi, after which it did not seem to them that
his words were strange.

OF A DANCING-GIRL. 551

VI.

On the morning of the day following, an hour after
sunrise, the Master and his pupil took their way to
the dry bed of the river, beyond the verge of the eity,
to the place of outcasts.
The entrance of the little dwelling they found
closed by a single shutter, upon which the Master
tapped many times without evoking a response.
Then, finding the shutter unfastened from within, he
pushed it slightly aside, and called through the aper
ture. None replied, and he decided to enter. Simul
taneously, with extraordinary vividness, there thrilled
back to him the sensation of the very instant when,
as a tired lad, he stood pleading for admission to the
lonesome little cottage among the hills.
Entering alone softly, he perceived that the woman
was lying there, wrapped in a single thin and tattered
futon, seemingly asleep. On a rude shelf he recog
nized the butsudan of forty years before, with its
tablet, and now, as then, a tiny lamp was burning in
front of the kaimyo. The kakemono of the Goddess
of Mercy with her lunar aureole was gone, but on
the wall facing the shrine he beheld his own dainty
gift suspended, and an ofuda beneath it, — an ofuda
of Hito-koto-Kwannon, ^ — that Kwannon unto whom
it is unlawful to pray more than once, as she answers
but a single prayer. There was little else in the
desolate dwelling ; only the garments of a female
pilgrim, and a mendicant's staff and bowl.
But the Master did not pause to look at these
things, for he desired to awaken and to gladden the
1 Her shrine is at Nara, — not far from the temple of the giant
Buddha. VOL. n.

552 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
sleeper, and he called her name cheerily twice and
thrice. Then suddenly he saw that she was dead, and he
wondered while he gazed upon her face, for it seemed
less old. A vague sweetness, hke a ghost of youth, had
returned to it ; the lines of sorrow had been softened,
the wrinkles strangely smoothed, by the touch of a
phantom Master mightier than he.

xxin
FROM HOKI TO OKL

I RESOLVED to go to Oki.
Not even a missionary had ever been to Oki, and
its shores had never been seen by European eyes,
except on those rare occasions when men-of-war
steamed by them, cruising about the Japanese Sea.
This alone would have been a sufficient reason for
going there ; but a stronger one was furnished for
me by the ignorance of the Japanese themselves
about Oki. Excepting tbe far-away Riu-Kiu, or
Loo-Choo Islands, inhabited by a somewhat different
race with a different language, the least-known por
tion of the Japanese Empire is perhaps Oki. Since
it belongs to the same prefectural district as Izumo,
each new governor of Shimane-Ken is supposed to
pay one visit to Oki after his inauguration ; and the
chief of police of the province sometimes goes there
upon a tour of inspection. There are also some mer
cantile houses in Matsue and in other cities which
send a commercial traveler to Oki once a year. Fur
thermore, there is quite a large trade with Oki, —
almost all carried on by small sailing-vessels. But
such official and commercial communications have
not been of a nature to make Oki much better
known to-day than in tbe mediaeval period of Japa
nese history. There are still current among the
common people of the west coast extraordinary sto*

654 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
ries of Oki much like those about that fabulous Isle
of Women, which figures so largely in the imagina
tive literature of various Oriental races. According
to these old legends, the moral notions of the people
of Oki were extremely fantastic : the most rigid as
cetic could not dwell there and maintain his indiffer
ence to earthly pleasures ; and, however wealthy at
his arrival, the visiting stranger must soon return to
his native land naked and poor, because of the se
ductions of women. I had quite sufficient experi
ences of travel in queer countries to feel certain that
all these marvelous stories signified nothing beyond
the bare fact that Oki was a terra incognita ; and
I even felt inclined to believe that the average
morals of the people of Oki — judging by those of
the common folk of the western provinces — must
be very much better than the morals of our ignorant
classes at home.
Which I subsequently ascertained to be the case.
For some time I could find no one among my Jap
anese acquaintances to give me any information about
Oki, beyond the fact that in ancient times it had
been a place of banishment for the Emperors Go-
Daigo and Go-Toba, dethroned by military usurpers,
and this I already knew. But at last, quite unex
pectedly, I found a friend — a former fellow-teacher — •
who had not only been to Oki, but was going there
again within a few days about some business matter.
We agreed to go together. His accounts of Oki dif-
fered very materially from those of the people who
had never been there. The Oki folks, he said, were
almost as much civilized as the Izumo folks : they
had nice towns and good public schools. They were

FROM HOKI TO OKL 565
very simple, and honest beyond belief, and extremely
kind to strangers. Their only boast was that of
having kept their race unchanged since the time that
the Japanese had first come to Japan; or, in more
romantic phrase, since the Age of the Gods. They
were all Shintoists, members of the Izumo Taisha
faith, but Buddhism was also maintained among
them, chiefly through the generous subscription of
private individuals. And there were very comfort
able hotels, so that I would feel quite at home.
He also gave me a little book about Oki, printed
for the use of the Oki schools, from which I obtained
the following brief summary of facts : —
II.
Oki-no-Kuni, or the Land of Oki, consists of two
groups of small islands in the Sea of Japan, about
one hundred miles from the coast of Izumo. Dozen,
as the nearer group is termed, comprises, besides
various islets, three islands lying close together:
Chiburishima, or the Island of Chiburi (sometimes
called Higashinoshima, or Eastern Island) ; Nishino-
shima, or the Western Island, and Nakanoshima, or
the Middle Island. Much larger than any of these
is the principal island, Dogo, which together with
various islets, mostly uninhabited, form the remaining
group. It is sometimes called Oki, — though the
name Oki is more generally used for the whole archi
pelago. ^
Officially, Oki is divided into four kori or coun
ties. Chiburi and Nishinoshima together form Chi-
burigori; Nakanoshima, with an islet, makes Ama-
gori, and Dogo is divided into Ochigori and Sukigori.
1 The names Dozen or Tozen, and Dogo or Togo, signify "the
Before-Islands " and " the Behind-IslauAs."

556 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
All these islands are very mountainous, and only a
small portion of their area has ever been cultivated.
Their chief sources of revenue are their fisheries, in
which nearly the whole population has always been
engaged from the most ancient times.
During the winter months the sea between Oki
and the west coast is highly dangerous for small ves
sels, and in that season the islands hold little com
munication with the mainland. Only one passenger
steamer runs to Oki from Sakai in Hoki. In a direct
line, the distance from Sakai in Hoki to Saigo, the
chief port of Oki, is said to be thirty-nine ri ; but tbe
steamer touches at the other islands upon her way
thither. There are quite a number of little towns, or rather
villages, in Oki, of which forty-five belong to Dogo.
The villages are nearly all situated upon the coast.
There are large schools in the principal towns.
The population of the islands is stated to be 30,196,
but the respective populations of towns and villages
are not given. in.
From Matsue in Izumo to Sakai in Hoki is a trip
of barely two hours by steamer. Sakai is the chief
seaport of Shimane-Ken. It is an ugly little town,
full of unpleasant smells ; it exists only as a port ;
it has no industries, scarcely any shops, and only one
Shinto temple of small dimensions and smaller inter
est. Its principal buildings are warehouses, pleasure
resorts for sailors, and a few large dingy hotels,
which are always overcrowded with guests waiting
for steamers to Osaka, to Bakkan, to Hamada, to
Niigata, and various other ports. On this coast no
steamers run regularly anywhere; their owners at

FROM HOKI TO OKI. 567
tach no business value whatever to punctuality, and
guests have usually to wait for a much longer time
tlian they could possibly have expected, and the
hotels are glad.
But the harbor is beautiful, — a long frith between
the high land of Izumo and the low coast of Hoki.
It is perfectly sheltered from storms, and deep enough
to admit all but the largest steamers. The ships
can lie close to the houses, and the harbor is nearly
always thronged with all sorts of craft, from junks to
steam packets of the latest construction.
My friend and I were lucky enough to secure back
rooms at the best hotel. Back rooms are the best in
nearly all Japanese buildings : at Sakai they have
the additional advantage of overlooking the busy
wharves and the whole luminous bay, beyond which
the Izumo hills undulate in huge green billows against
the sky. There was much to see and to be amused
at. Steamers and sailing craft of all sorts were lying
two and three deep before the hotel, and the naked
dock laborers were loading and unloading in their
own peculiar way. These men are recruited from
among the strongest peasantry of Hoki and of Izumo,
and some were really fine men, over whose brown
backs the muscles rippled at every movement. They
were assisted by boys of fifteen or sixteen appar
ently, — apprentices learning tbe work, but not yet
strong enough to bear heavy burdens. I noticed that
nearly all had bands of blue cloth bound about their
calves to keep the veins from bursting. And all sang
as they worked. There was one curious alternate
phorus, in which the men in the hold gave the
signal by chanting " dokoe, dokoe ! " (haul away !)

658 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
and those at the hatch responded by improvisations
on the appearance of each package as it ascended : —
Dokoe, dokoe !
Onnago no ko da.
Dokoe, dokoe !
Oya da yo, oya da yo.
Dokoe, dokoe !
Chm-choi da, choi-choi da.
Dokoe, dokoe !
Matsue da, Matsue da.
Dokoe, dokoe!
Koeisumo Yonago da,^ etc.
But this chant was for light quick work. A very
different chant accompanied the more painful and
slower labor of loading heavy sacks and barrels upon
the shoulders of the stronger men : —
Yan-yui !
Yan-yui t
Yan-yui ! Yan-yui !
Yoi-ya-sora-a-no-do-koe-shi ! *
Three men always lifted the weight. At the first
yan-yui all stooped ; at the second all took hold ; the
third signified ready ; at the fourth the weight rose
from the ground ; and with the long cry of yoiyasa
¦no dokoeshi it was dropped on the brawny shoulder
waiting to receive it.
Among the workers was a naked laughing boy,
with a fine contralto that rang out so merrily through
all the din as to create something of a sensation in
1 " Dokoe, dokoe ! " " This is only a woman's baby " (a very small
package.) " Dokoe, dokoe ! " " This is the daddy, this is the daddy "
(a big package)." " Dokoe, dokoe !" " 'Tis very small, very small!"
" Dohoe, dokoe ! " " This is for Matsue, this is for Matsue ! " "Do-
koe, dokoe ! " " This is for Koetsumo of Yonago," etc.
2 These words seem to have no more meaning than our " yo-heave-
ho." Yan-yui is a cry used by all Izumo and Hoki sailors.

FROM HOKI TO OKL 559
the hotel. A young woman, one of the guests, came
out upon the balcony to look, and exclaimed : " That
boy's voice is red," — whereat everybody smiled.
Under the circumstances I thought the observation
very expressive, although it recalled a certain famous
story about scarlet and the sound of a trumpet, which
does not seem nearly so funny now as it did at a
time when we knew less about the nature of light
and sound.
The Oki steamer arrived the same afternoon, but
she could not approach the wharf, and I could only
obtain a momentary glimpse of her stern through a
telescope, with which I read the name, in English
letters of gold, — OKI-SAIGO. Before I could obtain
any idea of her dimensions, a huge black steamer
frora Nagasaki glided between, and moored right in
the way.
I watched the loading and unloading, and listened
to the song of the boy with the red voice, until sun
set, when all quit work ; and after that I watched
the Nagasaki steamer. She had made her way to
our wharf as the other vessels moved out, and lay
directly under the balcony. The captain and crew
did not appear to be in a hurry about anything.
They all squatted down together on the foredeck,
where a feast was spread for them by lantern-light.
Dancing-girls climbed on board and feasted with
them, and sang to the sound of the samisen, and
played with them the game of ken. Late into the
night the feasting and the fun continued ; and al
though an alarming quantity of sak^ was consumed,
there was no roughness or boisterousness. But sak^
is the most soporific of wines; and by midnight only

560 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
three of the men remained on deck. One of these
had not taken any sak^ at all, but still desired to eat.
Happily for him there climbed on board a night-
walking mochiya with a box of mochi, which are
cakes of rice-flour sweetened with native sugar. The
hungry one bought all, and reproached the mochiya
because there were no more, and offered, neverthe
less, to share the mochi with his comrades. Where
upon the first to whom the offer was made answered
somewhat after this manner : —
" I-your-servant mochi-for this-world-in no-use-have.
Sak^-alone this-life-in if-there-be, nothing-beside-desir-
aWe-is." " For me-your-servant," spake the other, " Woman
this-fleeting-life-in the-supreme-thing is ; mochi-or-
sak^-for earthly-use have-I-none."
But, having made all the mochi to disappear, he
that had been hungry turned himself to the mochiya,
and said : —
" O Mochiya San, I-your-servant Woman-or-sak^-
f or earthly-requirement have-none. Mochi-than things
better this-life-of-sorrow-in existence-have-not ! "
rv.
Early in the morning we were notified that the
Oki-Saigo would start at precisely eight o'clock, and
that we had better secure our tickets at once. The
hotel-servant, according to Japanese custom, relieved
us of all anxiety about baggage, etc., and bought
our tickets : first-class fare, eighty sen. And after a
hasty breakfast the hotel boat came under the win
dow to take us away.
Warned by experience of the discomforts of Euro.
pean dress on Shimane steamers, I adopted Japanese

FROM HOKI TO OKL 561
costume and exchanged my shoes for sandals. Our
boatmen sculled swiftly through the confusion of
shipping and junkery ; and as we cleared it I saw,
far out in midstream, the joki waiting for us. Joki
is a Japanese name for steam-vessel. The word had
not yet impressed me as being capable of a sinister
interpretation. She seemed nearly as long as a harbor tug, though
much more squabby ; and she otherwise so much re
sembled the lilliputian steamers of Lake Shinji, that
I felt somewhat afraid of her, even for a trip of one
hundred miles. But exterior inspection afforded no
clue to the mystery of her inside. We reached her and
climbed into her starboard through a small square
hole. At once I found myself cramped in a heavily-
roofed gangway, four feet high and two feet wide,
and in the thick of a frightful squeeze, — passengers
stifling in the effort to pull baggage three feet in
diameter through the two-foot orifice. It was impos
sible to advance or retreat ; and behind me the en
gine-room gratings were pouring wonderful heat into
this infernal corridor. I had to wait with the back
of my head pressed against the roof until, in some
unimaginable way, all baggage and passengers had
squashed and squeezed through. Then, reaching a
doorway, I fell over a heap of sandals and geta, into
the first-class cabin. It was pretty, with its polished
woodwork and mirrors ; it was surrounded by divans
five inches wide ; and in the centre it was nearly six
feet high. Such altitude would have been a cause
for comparative happiness, but that from various pol
ished bars of brass extended across the ceiling all
kinds of small baggage, including two cages of sing
ing-crickets (chon- gisu), had been carefully sus'

562 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
pended. Furthermore the cabin was already ex
tremely occupied : everybody, of course, on the floor,
and nearly everybody lying at extreme length ; and
the heat struck me as being supernatural. Now
they that go down to the sea in ships, out of Izumo
and such places, for the purpose of doing business in
great waters, are never supposed to stand up, but to
squat in the ancient patient manner ; and coast or
lake steamers are constructed with a view to render
this attitude only possible. Observing an open door
in the port side of the cabin, I picked my way over a
tangle of bodies and limbs, — among them a pair of
fairy legs belonging to a dancing-girl, — and found
myself presently in another gangway, also roofed, and
choked up to the roof with baskets of squirming eels.
Exit there was none : so I climbed back over all the
legs and tried the starboard gangway a second time.
Even during that short interval, it had been half
filled with baskets of unhappy chickens. But I
made a reckless dash over them, in spite of frantic
cacklings which hurt my soul, and succeeded in find
ing a way to the cabin-roof. It was entirely occu
pied by watermelons, except one corner, where there
was a big coil of rope. I put melons inside of the
rope, and sat upon them in the sun. It was not
comfortable ; but I thought that there I might have
some chance for my life in case of a catastrophe, and
I was sure that even the gods could give no help to
those below. During the squeeze I had got sepa
rated from my companion, but I was afraid to make
any attempt to find him. Forward I saw the roof of
the second cabin crowded with third-class passengers
squatting round a hibachi. To pass through them
did not seem possible, and to retire would have in-

FROM HOKI TO OKL 663
volved the murder of either eels or chickens. Where
fore I sat upon the melons.
And the boat started, with a stunning scream. In
another moment her funnel began to rain soot upon
me, — for the so-called first-class cabin was well
astern, — and then came small cinders mixed with
the soot, and the cinders were occasionally red-hot.
But I sat burning upon tbe watermelons for some
time longer, trying to imagine a way of changing
my position without committing another assault upon
the chickens. Finally, I made a desperate endeavor
to get to leeward of the volcano, and it was then for
the first time that I began to learn the peculiarities
of the joki. What I tried to sit on turned upside
down, and what I tried to hold by instantly gave
way, and always in the direction of overboard.
Things clamped or rigidly braced to outward seem
ing proved, upon cautious examination, to be danger
ously mobile ; and things that, according to Occi
dental ideas, ought to have been movable, were
fixed like the roots of the perpetual hills. In what
ever direction a rope or stay could possibly have been
stretched so as to make somebody unhappy, it was
there. In the midst of these trials the frightful little
craft began to swing, and the watermelons began to
rush heavily to and fro, and I came to the conclusion
that this joki had been planned and constructed by
demons. Which I stated to my friend. He had not only
rejoined me quite unexpectedly, but had brought
along with him one of the ship's boys to spread an
awning above ourselves and the watermelons, so as
to exclude cinders and sun.
" Oh, no ! " he answered reproachfully. " She was

564 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
designed and built at Hyogo, and really she might
have been made much worse. . . ."
"I beg your pardon," I interrupted; "I don't
agree with you at all."
"Well, you will see for yourself," he persisted.
" Her hull is good steel, and her little engine is won
derful; she can make her hundred miles in five
hours. She is not very comfortable, but she is very
swift and strong."
" I would rather be in a sampan," I protested, " if
there were rough weather."
" But she never goes to sea in rough weather. If
it only looks as if there might possibly be some
rough weather, she stays in port. Sometimes she
waits a whole month. She never runs any risks."
I could not feel sure of it. But I soon forgot all
discomforts, even the discomfort of sitting upon
watermelons, in the delight of the divine day and
the magnificent view that opened wider and wider
before us, as we rushed from the long frith into the
Sea of Japan, following the Izumo coast. There
was no fleck in the soft blue vastness above, not one
flutter on tbe metallic smoothness of the all-reflecting
sea ; if our little steamer rocked, it was doubtless be
cause she had been overloaded. To port, the Izumo
hills were flying by, a long, wild procession of broken
shapes, sombre green, separating at intervals to form
mysterious little bays, with fishing hamlets hiding in
them. Leagues away to starboard, the Hoki shore
receded into the naked white horizon, an ever-dimin
ishing streak of warm blue edged with a thread-line
of white, the gleam of a sand beach ; and beyond it,
in the centre, a vast shadowy pyramid loomed up into
heaven, — the ghostly peak of Daisen.

FROM HOKI TO OKL 665
My companion touched my arm to call my atten
tion to a group of pine-trees on the summit of a peak
to port, and laughed and sang a Japanese song. How
swiftly we had been travehng I then for the first
time understood, for I recognized the four famous
pines of Mionoseki, on the windy heights above the
shrine of Koto-shiro-nushi-no-Kami. There used to
be five trees: one was uprooted by a storm, arid some
Izumo poet wrote about the remaining four the
words which my friend had sung : —
Seki no gohon matsu
Ippun kirya, shihon ;
Ato wa kirarenu
Miyolo matsu.
Which means : " Of the five pines of Seki one has been
cut, and four remain ; and of these no one must now
be cut, — they are wedded pairs." And in Mio
noseki there are sold beautiful little sak^ cups and
sak^ bottles, upon which are pictures of the four
pines, and above the pictures, in spidery text of gold,
the verses, "Seki no gohon matsu." These are for
keepsakes, and there are many other curious and
pretty souvenirs to buy in those pretty shops : porce
lains bearing the picture of the Mionoseki temple,
and metal clasps for tobacco pouches representing
Koto-shiro-nushi-no-Kami trying to put a big tai-fish
into a basket too small for it, and funny masks of
glazed earthenware representing the laughing face of
the god. For a jovial god is this Ebisu, or Koto-
shiro-nushi-no-Kami, patron of honest labor and espe
cially of fishers, though less of a laughter-lover than
his father, the Great Deity of Kitzuki, about whom
't is said : " Whenever the happy laugh, tbe God
rejoices."

566 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
We passed the Cape, — the Miho of the Kojiki,—-
and the harbor of Mionoseki opened before us, show
ing its islanded shrine of Benten in the midst, and
the crescent of quaint houses with their feet in the
water, and the great torii and granite lions of the
far-famed temple. Immediately a number of pas
sengers rose to their feet, and, turning their faces
toward the torii, began to clap their hands in Shinto
prayer. I said to my friend : —
" There are fifty baskets full of chickens in the
gangway ; and yet these people are praying to Koto-
shiro-nushi-no-Kami that nothing horrible may hap
pen to this boat."
" More likely," he answered, " they are praying
for good-fortune ; though there is a saying : ' The
gods only laugh when men pray to them for wealth.'
But of the Great Deity of Mionoseki there is a good
story told. Once there was a very lazy man who
went to Mionoseki and prayed to become rich. And
the same night he saw the god in a dream ; and the
god laughed, and took off one of his own divine
sandals, and told him to examine it. And the man
saw that it was made of solid brass, but had a big
hole worn through the sole of it. Then said the
god: 'You want to have money without working
for it. I am a god ; but I am never lazy. See ! my
sandals are of brass : yet I have worked and walked
so much that they are quite worn out.' "
V.
The beautiful bay of Mionoseki opens between
two headlands: Cape Mio (or Miho, according to
the archaic spelling) and the Cape of Jizo (Jizo-

FROM HOKI TO OKL 567
eaki), now most inappropriately called by the people
" The Nose of Jizo " (Jizo-no-hana). This Nose of
Jizo ia one of the most dangerous points of the coast
in time of surf, and the great terror of small ships
returning from Oki. There is nearly always a heavy
swell there, even in fair weather. Yet as we passed
the ragged promontory I was surprised to see the
water still as glass. I felt suspicious of that noiseless
sea: its souudlessness recalled the beautiful treach
erous sleep of waves and winds which precedes a
tropical hurricane. But my friend said : —
" It may remain like this for weeks. In the sixth
month and in the beginning of the seventh, it is
usually very quiet ; it is not likely to become danger
ous before tbe Bon. But there was a little squall last
week at Mionoseki ; and the people said that it was
caused by the anger of the god."
" Eggs ? " I queried.
"No: aKudan."
"What is aKudan.?"
" Is it possible you never heard of the Kudan ?
The Kudan has the face of a man, and the body of a
bull. Sometimes it is born of a cow, and that is a
Sign-of-things-going-to-happen. And the Kudan al
ways tells the truth. Therefore in Japanese letters
and documents it is customary to use the phrase,
Kudan-no-gotoshi, — ' like the Kudan,' — or 'on the
truth of the Kudan.' " i
"But why was the God of Mionoseki angry about
the Kudan?"
" People said it was a stuffed Kudan. I did not
* This curious meaning is not given in Japanese-English diction
aries, where the idiom is translated merely by the phrase " as aforo'
said." VOL. II.

668 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
see it, so I cannot tell you how it was made. There
were some traveling showmen from Osaka at Sakai.
They had a tiger and many curious animals and the
stuffed Kudan ; and they took the Izumo Maru for
Mionoseki. As the steamer entered the port, a sud
den squall came ; and the priests of the temple said
the god was angry because things impure — bones
and parts of dead animals — had been brought to the
town. And the show people were not even allowed
to land : they had to go back to Sakai on the same
steamer. And as soon as they had gone away, the
sky became clear again, and the wind stopped blow
ing : so that some people thought what the priests had
said was true." VI.
Evidently there was much more moisture in the
atmosphere than I had supposed. On really clear
days, Daisen can be distinctly seen even from Oki ;
but we bad scarcely passed the Nose of Jizo when the
huge peak began to wrap itself in vapor of the same
color as the horizon ; and in a few minutes it van
ished, as a spectre might vanish. The effect of this
sudden disappearance was very extraordinary; for
only the peak passed from sight, and that which had
veiled it could not be in any way distinguished from
horizon and sky.
Meanwhile the Oki-Saigo, having reached the far
thest outlying point of the coast upon her route, began
to race in a straight line across the Japanese Sea.
The green hills of Izumo fled away and turned blue,
and the spectral shores of Hoki began to melt into
the horizon, like bands of cloud. Then I was obliged
to confess my surprise at the speed of the horrid little
steamer. She moved, too, with scarcely any sound|

FROM HOKI TO OKL 569
so smooth was the working of her wonderful little
engine. But she began to swing heavily, with deep,
slow swingings. To the eye, the sea looked level as
oil ; but there were long invisible swells — ocean-
pulses — that made themselves felt beneath the sur
face. Hoki evaporated ; the Izumo hills turned gray,
and their gray steadily paled as I watched them.
They grew more and more colorless, — seemed to be
come transparent. And then they were not. Only
blue sky and blue sea, welded together in the white
horizon. It was just as lonesome as if we had been a thou
sand leagues from land. And in that weirdness we
were told some very lonesome things by an ancient
mariner who found leisure to join us among the
watermelons. He talked of the Hotoke-umi, and
the ill-luck of being at sea on the sixteenth day of
the seventh month. He told us that even the great
steamers never went to sea during the Bon : no crew
would venture to take a ship out then. And he re
lated the following stories with such simple earnest
ness that I think he must have believed what he
said : —
"The first time I was very young. From Hok
kaido we had sailed, and the voyage was long, and
the winds turned against us. And the night of the
sixteenth day fell, as we were working on over this
very sea.
'' And all at once in the darkness we saw behind
us a great junk, — all white, — that we had not
noticed till she was quite close to us. It made us
feel queer, because she seemed to have come from
nowhere. She was so near us that we could hear

570 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
voices ; and her hull towered up high above us. She
seemed to be sailing very fast ; but she came no
closer. We shouted to her ; but we got no answer.
And while we were watching her, all of us became
afraid, because she did not move like a real ship.
The sea was terrible, and we were lurching and
plunging ; but that great junk never rolled. Just at
the same moment that we began to feel afraid she
vanished so quickly that we could scarcely believe
we had really seen her at all.
" That was the first time. But four years ago I
saw something still more strange. We were bound
for Oki, in a junk, and the wind again delayed us, so
that we were at sea on the sixteenth day. It was in
the morning, a little before midday; the sky was
dark, and the sea very ugly. All at once we saw
a steamer running in our track, very quickly. She
got so close to us that we could hear her engines,
katakata, katakata! — but we saw nobody on deck.
Then she began to follow us, keeping exactly at the
same distance, and whenever we tried to get out of
her way she would turn after us and keep exactly in
our wake. And then we suspected what she was.
But we were not sure until she vanished. She van
ished like a bubble, without making the least sound.
None of us could say exactly when she disappeared.
None of us saw her vanish. The strangest thing was
that after she was gone we could still hear her en
gines working behind us, — katakata, katakata, ka
takata !
" That is all I saw. But I know others, sailors
like myself, who have seen more. Sometimes raany
ships will follow you, — -though never at the same
time. One will come close and vanish, then another,

FROM HOKI TO OKI. 571
and then another. As long as they come behind
you, you need never be afraid. But if you see a
ship of that sort running before you, against the
wind, that is very bad ! It means tliat all on board
will be drowned." VII.
The luminous blankness circling us continued to
remain unflecked for less than an hour. Then out
of the horizon toward which we steamed, a small
gray vagueness began to grow. It lengthened fast,
and seemed a cloud. And a cloud it proved ; but
slowly, beneath it, blue filmy shapes began to define
against the whiteness, and sharpened into a chain of
mountains. They grew taller and bluer, — a little
sierra, with one paler shape towering in the middle
to thrice the height of the rest, and filleted with
cloud, — Takuhizan, the sacred mountain of Oki, in
the island Nishinoshima.
Takuhizan has legends, which I learned from my
friend. Upon its summit stands an ancient shrine of
the deity Gongen-Sama. And it is said that upon
the thirty-first night of the twelfth month three
ghostly fires arise from the sea and ascend to the
place of the shrine, and enter the stone lanterns
which stand before it, and there remain, burning
like lamps. These lights do not arise at once, but
separately, from the sea, and rise to the top of tbe
peak one by one. The people go out in boats to see
the lights mount from the water. But only those
whose hearts are pure can see them ; those who have
evil thoughts or desires look for the holy fires in
vain.

572 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Before us, as we steamed on, the sea-surface ap
peared to become suddenly speckled with queer craft
previously invisible, — hght, long fishing-boats, with
immense square sails of a beautiful yellow color. I
could not help remarking to my comrade how pretty
those sails were ; he laughed, and told me they were
made of old tatami.i I examined them through a
telescope, and found that they were exactly what he
had said, — woven straw coverings of old floor-mats.
Nevertheless, that first tender yellow sprinkling of
Oki sails over the soft blue water was a charming
sight. They fleeted by, like a passing of yellow butter
flies, and the sea was void again. Gradually, a little
to port, a point in the approaching line of blue cliffs
shaped itself and changed color, — dull green above,
reddish gray below ; it defined into a huge rock, with
a dark patch on its face, but the rest of the land
remained blue. The dark patch blackened as we
came nearer, — a great gap full of shadow. Then
the blue cliffs beyond also turned green, and their
bases reddish gray. We passed to the right of the
huge rock, which proved to be a detached and unin-
1 The floor of a Japanese dwelling might be compared to an im
mense but very shallow wooden tray, divided into compartments
corresponding to the various rooms. These divisions are formed by
grooved and polished woodwork, several inches above the level, and
made for the accommodation of the fusuma, or sliding screens, sepa
rating room from room. The compartments are filled up level with
the partitions with tatami, or mats about the thickness ot light mat
tresses, covered with beautifully woven rice-straw. The squared edges
of the mats flt exactly together, and as the mats are not made for the
house, but the house for the mats, all tatami are exactly the same
size. The fully finished floor of each room is thus like a great soft
bed. No shoes, of course, can be worn in a Japanese house. As
soon as the mats become in the least soQed they are replaced by new
ones.

FROM HOKI TO OKL 578
habited islet, Hakashima ; and in another moment
we were steaming into the archipelago of Oki, be
tween the lofty islands Chiburishima and Nakashima.
VIII.
The first impression was almost uncanny. Rising
sheer from the flood on either hand, the tall green
silent hills stretched away before us, changing tint
through the summer vapor, to form a fantastic vista
of blue cliffs and peaks and promontories. There
was not one sign of human life. Above their pale
bases of naked rock the mountains sloped up be
neath a sombre wildness of dwarf vegetation. There
was absolutely no sound, except the souud of the
steamer's tiny engine, — poum-poum, poum! poum-
poum, poum! like the faint tapping of a geisha's
drum. And this savage silence continued for miles :
only the absence of lofty timber gave evidence that
those peaked hills had ever been trodden by human
foot. But all at once, to the left, in a mountain
wrinkle, a little gray hamlet appeared; and the
steamer screamed and stopped, while the hills re
peated the scream seven times.
This settlement was Chiburimura, of Chiburishima
(Nakashima being the island to starboard), — evi
dently nothing more than a fishing station. First
a wharf of uncemented stone rising from the cove
like a wall ; then great trees through which one
caught sight of a torii before some Shinto shrine,
and of a dozen houses climbing the hollow hill one
behind another, roof beyond roof; and above these
some terraced patches of tilled ground in the midst
of desolation : that was all. The packet halted to
deliver mail, and passed on.

674 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
But then, contrary to expectation, the scenery be
came more beautiful. The shores on either side at
once receded and heightened : we were traversing an
inland sea bounded by three lofty islands. At first
the way before us had seemed barred by vapory
hills ; but as these, drawing nearer, turned green,
there suddenly opened magnificent chasms between
tbem on both sides, — mountain-gates revealing league-
long wondrous vistas of peaks and cliffs and capes of
a hundred blues, ranging away from velvety indigo
into far tones of exquisite and spectral delicacy. A
tinted haze made dreamy all remotenesses, and veiled
with illusions of color the rugged nudities of rock.
The beauty of the scenery of Western and Central
Japan is not as the beauty of scenery in other lands ;
it has a peculiar character of its own. Occasionally
the foreigner may find memories of former travel
suddenly stirred to life by some view on a mountain
road, or some stretch of beetling coast seen through
a fog of spray. But this illusion of resemblance van
ishes as svdftly as it comes ; details immediately de
fine into strangeness, and you become aware that the
remembrance was evoked by form only, never by
color. Colors indeed there are which delight the
eye, but not colors of mountain verdure, not colors
of the land. Cultivated plains, expanses of growing
rice, may offer some approach to warmth of green ;
but the whole general tone of this nature is dusky ;
the vast forests are sombre ; the tints of grasses are
harsh or dull. Fiery greens, such as burn in tropical
scenery, do not exist; and blossom-bursts take a
more exquisite radiance by contrast with the heavy
tones of the vegetation out of which they flame.

FROM HOKI TO OKL 675
Outside of parks and gardens and cultivated fields,
there is a singular absence of warmth and tenderness
in the tints of verdure ; and nowhere need you hope
to find any such richness of green as that which
makes the loveliness of an English lawn.
Yet these Oriental landscapes possess charms of
color extraordinary, — phantom-color, delicate, elfish,
indescribable, — created by the wonderful atmosphere.
Vapors enchant the distances, bathing peaks in be
witchments of blue and gray of a hundred tones,
transforming naked cliffs to amethyst, stretching
spectral gauzes across the topazine morning, magni
fying the splendor of noon by effacing the horizon,
filling the evening with smoke of gold, bronzing
the waters, banding the sundown with ghostly pur
ple and green of nacre. Now, the old Japanese
artists who made those marvelous ehon — those pic
ture-books which have now become so rare — tried to
fix the sensation of these enchantments in color, and
they were successful in their backgrounds to a degree
almost miraculous. For which very reason some of
their foregrounds have been a puzzle to foreigners
unacquainted with certain features of Japanese agri
culture. You will see blazing saffron-yellow fields,
faint purple plains, crimson and snow-white trees, in
those old picture-books ; and perhaps you will ex
claim : " How absurd ! " But if you knew Japan you
would cry out : " How deliciously real ! " For you
would know those fields of burning yellow are fields
of flowering rape, and the purple expanses are fields
of blossoming miyako, and the snow-white or crimson
trees are not fanciful, but represent faithfully certain
phenomena of effiorescence peculiar to the plum-trees
and the cherry-trees of tbe country. But these chro*

576 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
matic extravaganzas can be witnessed only during
very brief periods of particular seasons : throughout
the greater part of the year, the foreground of an
inland landscape is apt to be dull enough in the
matter of color.
It is the mists that make the magic of the back
grounds ; yet even without them there is a strange,
wild, dark beauty in Japanese landscapes, a beauty
not easily defined in words. The secret of it must
be sought in the extraordinary lines of the moun
tains, in the strangely abrupt crumpling and jagging
of the ranges ; no two masses closely resembling each
other, every one having a fantasticality of its own.
Where the chains reach to any considerable height,
softly swelling lines are rare : the general character
istic is abruptness, and the charm is the charm of
Irregularity. Doubtless this weird Nature first inspired the Jap
anese with their unique sense of the value of irregu
larity in decoration, — taught them that single secret
of composition which distinguishes their art from all
other art, and which Professor Chamberlain has said
it is their special mission to teach to the Occident.^
Certainly, whoever has once learned to feel the beauty
and significance of the old Japanese decorative art
can find thereafter little pleasure in the correspond
ing art of the West. What he has really learned is
that Nature's greatest charm is irregularity. And
periiaps something of no small value might be written
upon the question whether the highest charm of hu
man life and work is not also irregularity.
1 See article ou Art in his Things Japanese.

FROM HOKI TO OKL 577
rs.
From Chiburimura we made steam west for the
port of Urago, wliich is in the island of Nishinoshima.
As we approached it Takuhizan came into imposing
view. Far away it had seemed a soft and beautiful
shape; but as its blue tones evaporated its aspect
became rough and even grim: an enormous jagged
bulk all robed in sombre verdure, through which,
as through tatters, there protruded here and there
naked rock of the wildest shapes. One fragment, I
remember, as it caught the slanting sun upon the
irregularities of its summit, seemed an immense gray
skull. At the base of this mountain, and facing the
shore of Nakashima, rises a pyramidal mass of rock,
covered with scraggy undergrowth, and several hun
dred feet in height, — Mongakuzan. On its desolate
summit stands a little shrine.
" Takuhizan " signifies The Fire-burning Mountain,
— a name due perhaps either to the legend of its
ghostly fires, or to some ancient memory of its vol
canic period. " Mongakuzan " means The Mountain
of Mongaku, — Mongaku Shonin, the great monk.
It is said that Mongaku Shonin fled to Oki, and that
he dwelt alone upon the top of tbat mountain many
years, doing penance for his deadly sin. Whether he
really ever visited Oki, I am not able to say ; there
are traditions which declare the contrary. But the
peaklet has borne his name for hundreds of years.
Now this is the story of Mongaku Shonin : —
Many centuries ago, in the city of Kyoto, tbere
was a captain of the garrison whose name was Endo
Moi'ito. He saw and loved the wife of a noble
samurai ; and when she refused to listen to his de-

678 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
sires, he vowed that he would destroy her family un
less she consented to the plan which he submitted to
her. The plan was that upon a certain night she
should suffer him to enter her house and to kill her
husband ; after which she was to become his wife.
But she, pretending to consent, devised a noble
stratagem to save her honor. For, after having per
suaded her husband to absent himself from the city,
she wrote to Endo a letter, bidding him come upon a
certain night to the house. And on that night she
clad herself in her husband's robes, and made her
hair like the hair of a man, and laid herself down in
her husband's place, and pretended to sleep.
And Endo came in the dead of the night with his
sword drawn, and smote off the head of the sleeper
at a blow, and seized it by the hair and lifted it up
and saw it was the head of the woman he had loved
and vrronged.
Then a great remorse came upon him, and hasten
ing to a neighboring temple, he confessed his sin, and
did penance, and cut off his hair, and became a monk,
taking the name of Mongaku. And in after years
he attained to great holiness, so that folk still pray
to him, and his memory is venerated throughout the
land. Now at Asakusa in Tokyo, in one of the curious
little streets which lead to the great temple of Kwan
non the Merciful, there are always wonderful images
to be seen, — figures that seem alive, though made of
wood only, — figures illustrating the ancient legends
of Japan. And there you may see Endo standing :
in his right hand the reeking sword ; in his left the
head of a beautiful woman. The face of the woman
you may forget soon, because it is only beautiful.

FROM HOKI TO OKL 579
But the face of Endo you will not forget, because it
is naked hell. X.
Urago is a queer little town, perhaps quite as large
as Mionoseki, and built, like Mionoseki, on a narrow
ledge at tbe base of a steep semicircle of hills. But it
is much more primitive and colorless than Mionoseki ;
and its houses are still more closely cramped between
cliffs and water, so that its streets, or rather alleys,
are no wider than gangways. As we cast anchor, my
attention was suddenly riveted by a strange spectacle,
— a white wilderness of long fluttering vague shapes,
in a cemetery on the steep hillside, rising by terraces
high above the roofs of the town. The cemetery was
full of gray haka and images of divinities ; and over
every haka there was a curious white paper banner
fastened to a thin bamboo pole. Through a glass
one could see that these banners were inscribed with
Buddhist texts, — " Namu - myo - ho-renge - kyo ; "
" Namu Amida Butsu ;" " Namu Daiji Bai-hi Kwarv-
ze-on Bosatsu," — and other holy words. Upon in
quiry I learned that it was an Urago custom to
place these banners every year above the graves dur
ing one whole month preceding the Festival of the
Dead, together with various other ornamental or
symbolic things.
The water was full of naked swimmers, who
shouted laughing welcomes; and a host of light, swift
boats, sculled by naked fishermen, darted out to look
for passengers and freight. It was my first chance
to observe the physique of Oki islanders ; and I was
much impressed by the vigorous appearance of both
men and boys. The adults seemed to me of a taller
and more powerful type than the men of the Izumo

580 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
coast ; and not a few of those brown backs and shoul
ders displayed, in the motion of sculling, what ia
comparatively rare in Japan, even among men picked
for heavy labor, — a magnificent development of
muscles. As the steamer stopped an hour at Urago, we had
time to dine ashore in the chief hotel. It was a very
clean and pretty hotel, and the fare infinitely su
perior to that of the hotel at Sakai. Yet the price
charged was only seven sen ; and the old landlord
refused to accept the whole of the chadai-gift offered
him, retaining less than half, and putting back the
rest, with gentle force, into the sleeve of my yukata.
XI.
From Urago we proceeded to Hishi-ura, which is
in Nakanoshima, and the scenery grew always more
wonderful as we steamed between the islands. The
channel was just wide enough to create the illusion
of a grand river flowing witb the stillness of vast
depth between mountains of a hundred forms. The
long lovely vision was everywhere walled in by peaks,
bluing through sea-haze, and on either hand the
ruddy gray cliffs, sheering up frora profundity,
sharply mirrored their least asperities in the flood
with never a distortion, as in a sheet of steel. Not
until we reached Hishi-ura did the horizon reappear ;
and even then it was visible only between two lofty
headlands, as if seen through a river's mouth.
Hishi-ura is far prettier than Urago, but it is much
less populous, and has the aspect of a prosperous
agricultural town, rather than of a fishing station.
It bends round a bay formed by low hills which slope

FROM HOKI TO OKL 581
back gradually toward the mountainous interior, and
which display a considerable extent of cultivated sur
face. The buildings are somewhat scattered, and
in many cases isolated by gardens ; and those facing
the water are quite handsome modern constructions.
Urago boasts the best hotel in all Oki ; and it has
two new temples, — one a Buddhist temple of the Zen
sect, one a Shinto temple of the Izurao Taislia faith,
each the gift of a single person. A rich widow, the
owner of the hotel, built the Buddhist temple ; and
the wealthiest of the merchants contributed the other,
¦ — one of the handsomest miya for its size that 1 ever
saw.
xn.
Dogo, the main island of the Oki archipelago,
sometimes itself called " Oki," lies at a distance of
eight miles, northeast of the Dozen group, beyond a
stretch of very dangerous sea. We made for it im
mediately after leaving Urago ; passing to the open
through a narrow and fantastic strait between Na
kanoshima and Nishinoshima, where the cliffs take
the form of enormous fortifications, — bastions and
ramparts, rising by tiers. Three colossal rocks, an
ciently forming but a single mass, which would seem
to have been divided by some tremendous shock,
rise from deep water near the mouth of the channel,
like shattered towers. And the last promontory of
Nishinoshima, which we pass to port, a huge red
naked rock, turns to the horizon a point so strangely
shaped that it has been called by a name signifying
" The Hat of the Shinto priest."
As we glide out into the swell of the sea other ex
traordinary shapes appear, rising from great depths.
Komori, " The Bat," a ragged silhouette against the

682 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
horizon, has a great hole worn through it, which
glares like an eye. Farther out two bulks, curved
and pointed, and almost joined at the top, bear a
grotesque resemblance to the uplifted pincers of a
crab ; and there is also visible a small dark mass
which, until closely approached, seems the figure of a
man sculling a boat. Beyond these are two islands :
Matsushima, uninhabited and inaccessible, where
there is always a swell to beware of ; Omorishima,
even loftier, which rises from the ocean in enormous
ruddy precipices. There seemed to be some grim
force in those sinister bulks; some occult power
which made our steamer reel and shiver as she passed
them. But I saw a marvelous effect of color under
those formidable cliffs of Omorishima. They were
lighted by a slanting sun ; and where the glow of
the bright rock fell upon the water, each black-blue
ripple flashed bronze : I thought of a sea of metallic
violet ink.
From Dozen the cliffs of Dogo can be clearly seen
when the weather is not foul : they are streaked here
and there with chalky white, which breaks through
their blue, even in time of haze. Above them a
vast bulk is visible, — a point-de-repere for the mar
iners of Hoki, — the mountain of Daimanji. Dogo,
indeed, is one great cluster of mountains.
Its cliffs rapidly turned green for us, and we fol
lowed them eastwardly for perhaps half an hour.
Then they opened unexpectedly and widely, reveal
ing a superb bay, widening far into the land, sur
rounded by hills, and full of shipping. Beyond a
confusion of masts there crept into view a long gray
line of house-fronts, at the base of a crescent of
cliffs, — the city of Saigo ; and in a little while we

FROM HOKI TO OKL 583
touched a wharf of stone. There I bade farewell for
a month to the Oki-Saigo. XIII.
Saigo was a great surprise. Instead of the big
fishing village I had expected to see, I found a city
much larger and handsomer and in all respects more
modernized than Sakai ; a city of long streets full of
good shops ; a city with excellent public buildings ;
a city of which the whole appearance indicated com
mercial prosperity. Most of the edifices were roomy
two-story dwellings of merchants, and everything had
a bright, new look. The unpainted woodwork of
the houses had not yet darkened into gray ; the blue
tints of the tihng were still fresh. I learned that
this was because the town had been recently rebuilt,
after a conflagration, and rebuilt upon a larger and
handsomer plan.
Saigo seems still larger than it really is. There
are about one thousand houses, which number in any
part of Western Japan means a population of at least
five thousand, but must mean considerably more in
Saigo. These form three long streets, — Nishimachi,
Nakamachi, and Higashimachi (names respectively
signifying the Western, Middle, and Eastern Streets),
bisected by numerous cross-streets and alleys. What
makes the place seem disproportionately large is the
queer way the streets twist about, following the
irregularities of the shore, and even doubling upon
themselves, so as to create from certain points of
view an impression of depth which has no existence.
For Saigo is peculiarly, although admirably situated.
It fringes both banks of a river, the Yabigawa, near
its mouth, and likewise extends round a large point

584 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
within the splendid bay, besides stretching itself out
upon various tongues of land. But though smaller
than it looks, to walk through all its serpentine
streets is a good afternoon's work.
Besides being divided by the Yabigawa, the town
is intersected by various water-ways, crossed by a
number of bridges. On the hills behind it stand
several large buildings, including a public school,
with accommodation for three hundred students;
a pretty Buddhist temple (quite new), the gift of a
rich citizen ; a prison ; and a hospital, which deserves
its reputation of being for its size the handsomest
Japanese edifice not only in Oki, but in all Shimane-
Ken ; and there are several small but very pretty
gardens. As for the harbor, you can count more than three
hundred ships riding there of a summer's day. Grum
blers, especially of the kind who still use wooden
anchors, complain of the depth ; but the men-of-war
do not. XIV.
Never, in any part of Western Japan, have I been
made more comfortable than at Saigo. My friend
and myself were the only guests at the hotel to
which we had been recommended. The broad and
lofty rooms of the upper floor which we occupied
overlooked the main street on one side, and on the
other commanded a beautiful mountain landscape
beyond the mouth of the Yabigawa, which flowed
by our garden. The sea breeze never failed by
day or by night, and rendered needless those pretty
fans which it is the Japanese custom to present to
guests during the hot season. " The fare was aston
ishingly good, and curiously varied ; and I was told

FROM HOKI TO OKL 585
that I might order Seyo-ryori (Occidental cook
ing) if I wished, — beefsteak with fried potatoes,
mast chicken, and so forth. I did not avail myself
of the offer, as I make it a rule while traveling
to escape trouble by keeping to a purely Japanese
diet; but it was no small surprise to be offered in
Saigo what is almost impossible to obtain in any
other Japanese town of five thousand inhabitants.
From a romantic point of view, however, this dis
covery was a disappointment. Having made my way
into the most primitive region of all Japan, I had
imagined myself far beyond the range of all modern
izing influences; and the suggestion of beefsteak
with fried potatoes was a disillusion. Nor was I
entirely consoled by the subsequent discovery that
there were no newspapers or telegraphs.
But there was one serious hindrance to the enjoy
ment of these comforts : an omnipresent, frightful,
heavy, all-penetrating smell, the smell of decompos
ing fish, used as a fertilizer. Tons and tons of cuttle
fish entrails are used upon the fields beyond the Ya
bigawa, and the never-sleeping sea wind blows the
stench into every dwelling. Vainly do they keep
incense burning in most of the houses during the
heated term. After having remained three or four
days constantly in the city you become better able to
endure this odor ; but if you should leave town even
for a few hours only, you will be astonished on re
turning to discover how much your nose had been
numbed by habit and refreshed by absence.
XV.
On the morning of the day after my arrival at
Saigo, a young physician called to see me, and re-

686 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
quested me to dine with him at his house. He ex-
plained very frankly that as I was the first foreigner
who had ever stopped in Saigo, it would afford much
pleasure both to his family and to himself to have a
good chance to see me ; but the natural courtesy of
the man overcame any scruple I might have felt to
gratify the curiosity of strangers. I was not only
treated charmingly at his beautiful home, but actu
ally sent away loaded with presents, most of which I
attempted to decline in vain. In one matter, how
ever, I remained obstinate, even at the risk of offend
ing, — the gift of a wonderful specimen of bateiseki (a
substance which I shall speak of hereafter). This I
persisted in refusing to take, knowing it to be not
only very costly, but very rare. My host at last
yielded, but afterwards secretly sent to the hotel two
smaller specimens, which Japanese etiquette rendered
it impossible to return. Before leaving Saigo, I ex
perienced many other unexpected kindnesses from
the same gentleman.
Not long after, one of the teachers of the Saigo
public school paid me a visit. He had heard of my
interest in Oki, and brought with him two fine maps
of the islands made by himself, a little book about
Saigo, and, as a gift, a collection of Oki butterffies
and insects which he had made. It is only in Japan
that one is likely to meet with these wonderful ex
hibitions of pure goodness on the part of perfect
strangers. A third visitor, who had called to see my friend,
performed an action equally characteristic, but which
caused me not a little pain. We squatted down to
smoke together. He drew from his girdle a remark
ably beautiful tobacco-pouch and pipe-case, containing

FROM HOKI TO OKL 687
a little silver pipe, which he began to smoke. The
pipe-case was made of a sort of black coral, curiously
carved, and attached to the tabako-ird, or pouch, by
a heavy cord of plaited silk of three colors, passed
through a ball of transparent agate. Seeing me ad
mire it, he suddenly drew a knife from his sleeve,
and before I could prevent him, severed the pipe-case
from the pouch, and presented it to me. I felt al
most as if he had cut one of his own nerves asunder
when he cut that wonderful cord ; and, neverthe
less, once this had been done, to refuse the gift would
have been rude in the extreme. I made hira accept
a present in return ; but after that experience I was
careful never again while in Oki to admire anything
in the presence of its owner. XVI.
Every province of Japan has its own peculiar dia
lect ; and that of Oki, as might be expected in a
country so isolated, is particularly distinct. In Saigo,
however, the Izumo dialect is largely used. The
townsfolk in their manners and customs much re
semble Izumo country-folk ; indeed, there are many
Izumo people among them, most of the large busi
nesses being in the hands of strangers. The women
did not impress me as being so attractive as those of
Izumo: I saw several very pretty girls, but these
proved to be strangers.
However, it is only in the country that one can
properly study the physical characteristics of a popu
lation. Those of the Oki islanders may best be noted
at the fishing villages, many of which I visited.
Everywhere I saw fine strong men and vigorous wo-
uen ; and it struck me that the extraordinary plenty

688 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
and cheapness of nutritive food had quite as much to
do with this robustness as climate and constant exer
cise. So easy, indeed, is it to live in Oki, that men
of other coasts, who find existence difficult, emigrate
to Oki if they can get a chance to work there, even
at less remuneration. An interesting spectacle to me
were the vast processions of fishing-vessels which al
ways, weather permitting, began to shoot out to sea
a couple of hours before sundown. The surprising
swiftness with which those light craft were impelled
by their sinewy scullers — many of whom were
women — told of a skill acquired only through the
patient experience of generations. Another matter
that amazed me was the number of boats. One
night in the offing I was able to count three hundred
and five torch-fires in sight, each one signifying a
crew ; and I knew that from almost any of the forty-
five coast villages I might see the same spectacle at
the same time. The main part of the population, in
fact, spends its summer nights at sea. It is also a
revelation to travel frora Izumo to Hamada by night
upon a swift steamer during the fishing season. The
horizon for a hundred miles is alight with torch-fires ;
the toil of a whole coast is revealed in that vast illu
mination. Although the human population appears to have
gained rather than lost vigor upon this barren soil*
the horses and cattle of the country seem to have de
generated. They are remarkably diminutive. I saw
cows not much bigger than Izumo calves, with calves
about the size of goats. The horses, or rather ponies,
belong to a special breed of which Oki is rather
proud, — very small, but hardy. I was told that

FROM HOKI TO OKL 689
there were larger horses, but I saw none, and could
not learn whether they were imported. It seemed to
me a curious thing, when I saw Oki ponies for the
first time, that Sasaki Takatsuna's battle-steed —
not less famous in Japanese story than the horse
Kyrat in the ballads of Kurroglou — is declared by
the islanders to have been a native of Oki. And
they have a tradition that it once swam from Oki to
Mionoseki. xvn.
Almost every district and town in Japan has its
meibutsu or its kembutsu. The meibutsu of any
place are its special productions, whether natural or
artificial. The kembutsu of a town or district are
its sights, — its places worth visiting for any reason,
— religious, traditional, historical, or pleasurable.
Temples and gardens, remarkable trees and curious
rocks, are kembutsu. So, likewise, are any situations
from which beautiful scenery may be looked at, or
any localities where one can enjoy such charming
spectacles as the blossoming of cherry-trees in spring,
the flickering of fireflies in summer nights, the flush
ing of maple-leaves in autumn, or even that long
snaky motion of moonlight upon water to which
Chinese poets have given the delightful name of
Kinryo, " the Golden Dragon."
The great meibutsu of Oki is the same as that of Hi
nomisaki, — dried cuttlefish ; an article of food much
in demand both in China and Japan. The cuttlefish
of Oki and Hinomisaki and Mionoseki are all termed
ika (a kind of sepia) ; but those caught at Miono
seki are white and average fifteen inches in length,
whfle those of Oki and Hinomisaki rarely exceed

690 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
twelve inches and have a reddish tinge. The fishr
eries of Mionoseki and Hinomisaki are scarcely
known ; but the fisheries of Oki are famed not only
throughout Japan, but also in Korea and China.
It is only through the tilling of the sea that the
islands have become prosperous and capable of sup
porting thirty thousand souls upon a coast of which
but a yerj small portion can be cultivated at all.
Enormous quantities of cuttlefish are shipped to the
mainland ; but I have been told that the Chinese are
the best customers of Oki for this product. Should
the supply ever fail, the result would be disastrous be
yond conception ; but at present it seems inexhausti
ble, though the fishing has been going on for thou
sands of years. Hundreds of tons of cuttlefish are
caught, cured, and prepared for exportation month
after month ; and many hundreds of acres are fertil
ized with the entrails and other refuse. An officer
of pohce told me several strange facts about this
fishery. On the northeastern coast of Saigo it is no
uncommon thing for one fisherman to capture up
wards of two thousand cuttlefish in a single night.
Boats have been burst asunder by the weight of a
few hauls, and caution has to be observed in loading.
Besides the sepia, however, this coast swarms with
another variety of cuttlefish which also furnishes a
food-staple, — the formidable tako, or true octopus.
Tako weighing fifteen kwan eacb, or nearly one hun
dred and twenty-five pounds, are sometimes caught
near the fishing settlement of Nakamura. I was sur
prised to learn that there was no record of any per
son having been injured by these monstrous crea
tures. Another meibutsu of Oki is much less known than

FROM HOKI TO OKL 691
it deserves to be, — the beautiful jet-black stone called
bateiseki, or "horse-hoof stone." ^ It is found only
in Dogo, and never in large masses. It is about as
heavy as fiint, and chips like flint ; but the polish
which it takes is like that of agate. There are no
veins or specks in it ; the intense black color never
varies. Artistic objects are made of bateiseki : ink-
stones, wine-cups, little boxes, small dai, or stands
for vases or statuettes ; even jewelry, the material
being worked in the same manner as the beautiful
agates of Yumachi iu Izumo. These articles are
comparatively costly, even in the place of their
manufacture. There is an odd legend about the origin of the
bateiseki. It owes its name to some fancied resem
blance to a horse's hoof, either in color, or in tbe
semicircular marks often seen upon the stone in its
natural state, and caused by its tendency to split in
curved lines. But the story goes that the bateiseki
was formed by the touch of the hoofs of a sacred
steed, the wonderful mare of the great Minamoto war
rior, Sasaki Takatsuna. She had a foal, which fell
into a deep lake in Dogo, and was drowned. She
plunged into the lake herself, but could not find her
foal, being deceived by the reflection of her own
head in the water. For a long time she sought and
mourned in vain ; but even the hard rocks felt for
her, and where her hoofs touched them beneath the
water they became changed into bateiseki.^
Scarcely less beautiful than bateiseki, and equally
black, is another Oki-meibutsu, a sort of coralline
^ It seems to be a black obsidian.
' There are several other versions of this legend. In one, it is tha
mare, and not the foal, which was drowned.

592 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
marine product called umi- matsu, or "sea -pine."
Pipe-cases, brush-stands, and other small articles are
manufactured from it ; and these when polished
seem to be covered with black lacquer. Objects of
umi-matsu are rare and dear.
Nacre wares, however, are very cheap in Oki ; and
these form another variety of meibutsu. The shells
of the awabi, or " sea-ear," which reaches a surpris
ing size in these western waters, are converted by
skillful polishing and cutting into wonderful dishes,
bowls, cups, and other articles, over whose surfaces
the play of iridescence is like a flickering of fire of a
hundred colors. xvm.
According to a little book published at Matsue,
the kembutsu of Oki-no-Kuni are divided among
three of the four principal islands ; Chiburishima
only possessing nothing of special interest. For
many generations the attractions of Dogo have been
the shrine of Agonashi Jizo, at Tsubamezato; the
waterfall (Dangyo-taki) at Yuenimura ; the mighty
cedar-tree (sugi) before the shrine of Tama-Wakusa-
jinja at Shimomura, and the lakelet caUed Sai-no-
ike where the bateiseki is said to be found. Naka
noshima possesses the tomb of the exiled Emperor
Go-Toba, at Amamura, and the residence of the an
cient Choja, Shikekuro, where he dwelt betimes, and
where relics of him are kept even to this day. Ni
shinoshima possesses at Beppu a shrine in memory of
the exiled Emperor Go-Daigo, and on the summit of
Takuhizan that shrine of Gongen-Sama, from the
place of which a wonderful view of the whole archi
pelago is said to be obtainable on cloudless days.

FROM H5KI to OKL 693
Though Chiburishima has no kembutsu, her poor
little village of Chiburi — the same Chiburimura at
which the Oki steamer always touches on her way to
Saigo — is the scene of perhaps the most interesting
of all the traditions of the archipelago.
Five hundred and sixty years ago, the exiled
Emperor Go-Daigo managed to escape from the
observation of his guards, and to flee from Nishino
shima to Chiburi. And the brown sailors of that
little hamlet offered to serve him, even with their
hves if need be. They were loading their boats
with " dried fish," doubtless the same dried cuttlefish
which their descendants still carry to Izumo and to
Hoki. The emperor promised to remember them,
should they succeed in landing him either in Hoki or
in Izumo ; and they put him in a boat.
But when they had sailed only a little way they
saw the pursuing vessels. Then they told the em
peror to lie down, and they piled the dried fish high
above him. The pursuers came on board and
searched the boat, but they did not even think of
touching the strong-smelling cuttlefish. And when
the men of Chiburi were questioned they invented
a story, and gave to the enemies of the emperor a
false clue to follow. And so, by means of the cuttle
fish, the good emperor was enabled to escape from
banishment. XIX.
I found there were various difficulties in the way
of becoming acquainted with some of the kembutsu.
There are no roads, properly speaking, in all Oki,
only mountain paths ; and consequently there are no
jinrikisha, with the exception of one especially im
ported by the leading physician of Saigo, and availa-

594 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
ble for use only in the streets. There are not even
any kago, or palanquins, except one for the use of
the same physician. The paths are terribly rough,
according to the testimony of the strong peasants
themselves ; and the distances, particularly in the
hottest period of the year, are disheartening. Ponies
can be hired ; but my experiences of a similar wild
country in western Izumo persuaded me that neither
pleasure nor profit was to be gained by a long and
painful ride over pine-covered hills, through slippery
gulhes and along torrent-beds, merely to look at a
waterfall. I abandoned the idea of visiting Dangyo-
taki, but resolved, if possible, to see Agonashi- Jizo.
I had first heard in Matsue of Agonashi-Jizo,
while suffering from one of those toothaches in
which the pain appears to be several hundred miles
in depth, — one of those toothaches which disturb
your ideas of space and time. And a friend who
sympathized said : —
"People who have toothache pray to Agonashi-
Jizo. Agonashi-Jizo is in Oki, but Izumo people
pray to him. When cured they go to Lake Shinji,
to the river, to the sea, or to any running stream,
and drop into the water twelve pears (nashi), one for
each of the twelve months. And they believe the
currents will carry all these to Oki across the sea.
"Now, Agonashi-Jizo means ' Jizo-who-has-no-
Jaw.' For it is said that in one of his former lives
Jizo had such a toothache in his lower jaw that he
tore off his jaw, and threw it away, and died. And
he became a Bosatsu. And the people of Oki made
a statue of him without a jaw ; and all who suffer
toothache pray to that Jizo of Oki."

FROM HOKI TO OKI. 696
This story interested me; for more than once I had
felt a strong desire to do like Agonashi-.Iiz6, though
lacking the necessary courage and indifference to
earthly consequences. Moreover, the tradition sug
gested so humane and profound a comprehension of
toothache, and so large a sympathy with its victims,
that I felt myself somewhat consoled.
Nevertheless, I did not go to see Agonashi-Jizo, be
cause I found out there was no longer any Agonashi-
Jizo to see. The news was brought one evening by
some friends, shizoku of Matsue, who had settled in
Oki, a young police officer and his wife. They had
walked right across the island to see us, starting be
fore daylight, and crossing no less than thirty-two
torrents on their way. The wife, only nineteen,
was quite slender and pretty, and did not appear
tired by that long rough journey.
What we learned about the famous Jizo was this :
The name Agonashi-Jizo was only a popular corrup
tion of the true name, Agonaoshi-Jizo, or " Jizo-the-
Healer-of-Jaws." The little temple in which the
statue stood had been burned, and the statue along
with it, except a fragment of the lower part of the
figure, now piously preserved by some old peasant
woman. It was impossible to rebuild the temple, as
the disestablishment of Buddhism had entirely de
stroyed the resources of that faith in Oki. But the
peasantry of Tsubamezato had built a little Shinto
miya on the site of the temple, with a torii before it,
and people still prayed there to Agonaoshi-Jizo.
This last curious fact reminded me of the little
torii I had seen erected before the images of Jizo in
the Cave of the Children's Ghosts. Shinto, in these

596 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
remote districts of the west, now appropriates the
popular divinities of Buddhism, just as of old Bud
dhism used to absorb the divinities of Shinto in other
parts of Japan. XX.
I went to the Sai-no-ike, and to Tama-Wakasu.
jinja, as these two kembutsu can be reached by
boat. The Sai-no-ike, however, much disappointed
me. It can only be visited in very calm weather,
as the way to it lies along a frightfully dangerous
coast, nearly all sheer precipice. But the sea is
beautifully clear, and the eye can distinguish forms
at an immense depth below the surface. After fol
lowing the cliffs for about an hour, the boat reaches
a sort of cove, where the beach is entirely composed
of small round boulders. They form a long ridge,
the outer verge of which is always in motion, rolling
to and fro with a crash like a volley of musketry at
the rush and ebb of every wave. To climb over this
ridge of moving stone balls is quite disagreeable ; but
after that one has only about twenty yards to walk,
and the Sai-no-ike appears, surrounded on three sides
by wooded hills. It is little more than a large fresh
water pool, perhaps fifty yards wide, not in any way
wonderful. You can see no rocks under the surface,—
only mud and pebbles. That any part of it waa
ever deep enough to drown a foal is bard to believe.
I wanted to swim across to the farther side to try the
depth, but the mere proposal scandalized the boat
men. The pool was sacred to the gods, and waa
guarded by invisible monsters ; to enter it was impi
ous and dangerous. I felt obliged to respect the
local ideas on the subject, and contented myself with
inquiring where the bateiseki was found. They

FROM HOKI TO OKL 697
pointed to the hill on the western side of the water.
This indication did not tally with the legend. I
could discover no trace of any human labor on that
savage hillside; there was certainly no habitation
within miles of the place ; it was the very abomina
tion of desolation.^
It is never wise for the traveler in Japan to ex
pect much on the strength of the reputation oi kem
butsu. The interest attaching to the vast maprity
of kembutsu depends altogether upon the exercise of
imagination ; and the ability to exercise such imagi
nation again depends upon one's acquaintance with
the history and mythology of the country. Knolls,
rocks, stumps of trees, have been for hundreds of
years objects of reverence for the peasantry, solely
because of local traditions relating to them. Broken
iron kettles, bronze mirrors covered with verdigris,
rusty pieces of sword blades, fragments of red earth
enware, have drawn generations of pilgrims to the
shrines in which they are preserved. At various
small temples which I visited, the temple treasures
consisted of trays full of small stones. The first
time I saw those little stones I thought that the
piriests had been studying geology or mineralogy,
each stone being labeled in Japanese characters. On
examination, the stones proved to be absolutely
worthless in themselves, even as specimens of neigh
boring rocks. But the stories which the priests or
acolytes could tell about each and every stone were
more than interesting. The stones served as rude
1 There are two ponds not far from each other. T'he one I visited
was called 0-ike, or " The Male Pond," and the other, Me-ike, or " The
Female Pond."

698 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
beads, in fact, for the recital of a litany of Buddhist
legends. After the experience of the Sai-no-ike, I had little
reason to expect to see anything extraordinary at
Shimonishimura, But this time I was agreeably
mistaken. Shimonishimura is a pretty fishing viL
lage within an hour's row from Saigo. The boat fol
lows a wild but beautiful coast, passing one singular
truncated hill, Oshiroyama, upon which a strong
castle stood in ancient times. There is now only a
small Shinto shrine there, surrounded by pines.
From the hamlet of Shimonishimura to the Temple
of Tama-Wakasu-jinja is a walk of twenty minutes,
over very rough paths between rice-fields and vege
table gardens. But the situation of the temple, sur
rounded by its sacred grove, in the heart of a land
scape framed in by mountain ranges of many colors,
is charmingly impressive. The edifice seems to have
once been a Buddhist temple ; it is now the largest
Shinto structure in Oki. Before its gate stands the
famous cedar, not remarkable for height, but won
derful for girth. Two yards above the soil its cir
cumference is forty-five feet. It has given its name
to the holy place ; the Oki peasantry scarcely ever
speak of Tama-Wakasu-jinja, but only of " 0-Sugi,"
the Great Cedar.
Tradition avers that this tree was planted by a
Buddhist nun more than eight hundred years ago.
And it is alleged that whoever eats with chopsticks
made from the wood of that tree will never have the
toothache, and will live to become exceedingly old.*
1 Speaking of the supposed power of certain trees to cure tooth.
Sche. I may mention a curious superstition about the yanagi, or

FROM HOKI TO OKL 699
XXI.
The shrine dedicated to the spirit of the Emperor
Go-Daigo is in Nishinoshima, at Beppu, a picturesque
fishing village composed of one long street of thatched
cottages fringing a bay, at the foot of a demilune of
hills. The simplicity of manners and the honest
healthy poverty of the place are quite wonderful,
even for Oki. There is a kind of inn for strangers
at which hot water is served instead of tea, and dried
beans instead of kwashi, and millet instead of rice.
The absence of tea, however, is much more signifi
cant than that of rice. But the people of Beppu do
not suffer for lack of proper nourishment, as their
robust appearance bears witness: there are plenty
of vegetables, all raised in tiny gardens which the
women and children till during the absence of the
boats ; and there is abundance of fish. There is no
Buddhist temple, but there is an ujigami.
The shrine of the emperor is at the top of a hill
called Kurokizan, at one end of the bay. The hill is
covered with tall pines, and the path is very steep,
so that I thought it prudent to put on straw sandals,
in which one never slips. I found the shrine to be
a small wooden miya, scarcely three feet high, and
black with age. There were remains of other miya,
much older, lying in some bushes near by. Two
large stones, unhewn and without inscriptions of any
sort, have been placed before the shrine. I looked
into it, and saw a crumbling metal-mirror, dingy
willow-tree. Sufferers from toothache sometimes stick needles into
the tree, believing that the pain caused to the tree-spirit will force it
to exercise its power to cure. I could not, however, find any record
of this practice in Oki.
VOL. II.

600 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
paper gohei attached to splints of bamboo, two little
o-mikidokkuri, or Shinto sak^-vessels of red earthen
ware, and one rin. There was nothing else to see,
except, indeed, certain delightful glimpses of coast
and peak, visible in the bursts of warm blue light
which penetrated the consecrated shadow, between
the trunks of the great pines.
Only this humble shrine commemorates the good
emperor's sojourn among the peasantry of Oki,
But there is now being erected by voluntary sub
scription, at the little village of Go-sen-goku-mura,
near Yonago in Tottori, quite a handsome monument
of stone to the memory of his daughter, the princess
Hinako-Nai-Shinno, who died there while attempting
to follow her august parent into exile. Near the
place of her rest stands a famous chestnut-tree, of
which this story is told : While the emperor's daugh
ter was ill, she asked for chestnuts ; and some were
given to her. But she took only one, and bit it a
little, and threw it away. It found root and became
a grand tree. But all the chestnuts of that tree bear
marks like the marks of little teeth ; for in Japanese
legend even the trees are loyal, and strive to show
their loyalty in all sorts of tender dumb ways. And
that tree is called Hagata-guri-no-ki, which signifies :
" The Tree-of-the-Tooth-marked-Chestnuts." xxn.
Long before visiting Oki I had beard that such a
crime as theft was unknown in the little archipelago ;
that it had never been found necessary there to lock
things up; and that, whenever weather permitted, the
people slept with their houses all open to the four
winds of heaven.

FROM HGKI to OKI. 601
And after careful investigation, I found these sur
prising statements were, to a great extent, true. In
the Dozen group, at least, there are no thieves, and
practically no crime. Ten policemen are sufficient
to control the whole of both Dozen and Dogo, with
their population of thirty thousand one hundred and
ninety-six souls. Each policeman has under his in
spection a number of villages, which he visits on
regular days ; and his absence for any length of
time from one of these seems never to be taken
advantage of. His work is mostly confined to the
enforcement of hygienic regulations, and to the writ
ing of reports. It is very seldom that he finds it
necessary to make an arrest, for the people scarcely
ever quarrel.
In the island of Dogo alone are there ever any
petty thefts, and only in that part of Oki do the peo
ple take any precautions against thieves. Formerly
there was no prison, and thefts were never heard of;
and the people of Dogo still claim that the few per
sons arrested in their island for such offenses are not
natives of Oki, but strangers from the mainland.
What appears to be quite true is that theft was un
known in Oki before the port of Saigo obtained its
present importance. The whole trade of Western
Japan has been increased by the rapid growth of
steam communications with other parts of the em
pire ; and the port of Saigo appears to have gained
commercially, but to have lost morally, by the new
conditions. Yet offenses against the law are still surprisingly
few, even in Saigo. Saigo has a prison ; and there
were people in it during my stay in the city ; but
the inmates had been convicted only of such misde-

602 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
meanors as gambling (which is strictly prohibited
in every form by Japanese law), or the violation of
lesser ordinances. When a serious offense is com
mitted, the offender is not punished in Oki, but is
sent to the great prison at Matsue, in Izumo.
The Dozen islands, however, perfectly maintain
their ancient reputation for irreproachable honesty.
There have been no thieves in those three islands
within the memory of man ; and there are no serious
quarrels, no fighting, nothing to make life miserable
for anybody. Wild and bleak as the land is, all can
manage to live comfortably enough ; food is cheap
and plenty, and manners and customs have retained
their primitive simplicity. xxni.
To foreign eyes the defenses of even an Izumo
dwelling against thieves seem ludicrous, Chevaux-
derfrise of bamboo stakes are used extensively in
eastern cities of the empire, but in Izumo these are
not often to be seen, and do not protect the really
weak points of the buildings upon which they are
placed. As for outside walls and fences, they serve
only for screens, or for ornamental boundaries ; any
one can cUmb over them. Any one can also cut his
way into an ordinary Japanese house with a pocket-
knife. The amado are thin sliding screens of soft
wood, easy to break with a single blow ; and in most
Izumo homes there is not a lock which could resist
one vigorous pull. Indeed, the Japanese themselves
are so far aware of the futility of their wooden panels
against burglars that all who can afford it build kura,
• — small heavy fire-proof and (for Japan) almost
burglar - proof structures, with very thick earthen

FROM HOKI TO OKL 603
walls, a narrow ponderous door fastened with a
gigantic padlock, and one very small iron-barred
window, high up, near the roof. The kura are white
washed, and look very neat. They cannot be used
for dwellings, however, as they are mouldy and dark ;
and they serve only as storehouses for valuables. It
is not easy to rob a kura.
But there is no trouble in " burglariously " enter
ing an Izumo dwelling unless there happen to be
good watchdogs on the premises. The robber knows
the only difficulties in the way of his enterprise are
such as he is likely to encounter after having effected
an entrance. In view of these difficulties, he usually
carries a sword.
Nevertheless, he does not wish to find himself in
any predicament requiring the use of a sword ; and
to avoid such an unpleasant possibility he has re
course to magic.
He looks about tbe premises for a tarai, — a kind
of tub. If he finds one, he performs a nameless op
eration in a certain part of the yard, and covers the
spot with the tub, turned upside down. He believes
if he can do this that a magical sleep will fall upon
all the inmates of the house, and that he will thus
be able to carry away whatever he pleases, without
being heard or seen.
But every Izumo household knows the counter-
charm. Each evening, before retiring, tbe careful
wife sees that a hocho, or kitchen knife, is laid upon
the kitchen floor, and covered with a kanadarai, or
brazen wash-basin, on the upturned bottom of which
is placed a single straw sandal, of the noiseless sort
called zori, also turned upside down. She believes
this little bit of witchcraft will not only nullify the

604 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
robber's spell, but also render it impossible for him
— even should he succeed in entering the house with
out being seen or heard — to carry anything what
ever away. But, unless very tired indeed, she will
also see that the tarai is brought into the house before
the amado are closed for the night.
If through omission of these (precautions as the
igood wife might aver), or in despite of them, the
dwelling be robbed while the family are asleep,
search is made early in the morning for the footprints
of the burglar ; and a moxa ^ is set burning upon each
footprint. By this operation it is hoped or believed
that the burglar's feet will be made so sore that he
cannot run far, and that the police may easily over
take him, XXIV.
It was in Oki that I first heard of an extraordinary
superstition about the cause of okori (ague, or inter-
termittent fever), mild forms of which prevail in
certain districts at certain seasons ; but I have since
learned that this quaint belief is an old one in Izumo
and in many parts of the San-indo. It is a curious
example of the manner in which Buddhism has been
used to explain all mysteries.
Okori is said to be caused by the Gaki-botoke, or
hungry ghosts. Strictly speaking, the Gaki-botoke
are the Pretas of Indian Buddhism, spirits con-
1 Moxa, a corruption of the native name of the mugwort plant:
moe-kusa, or mogusa, " the burning weed." Small cones of its flbre are
used for cauterizing, according to the old Chinese system of medicine,
— the little cones being placed upon the patient's skin, lighted, and
left to smoulder until wholly consumed. The result is a profound
scar. The moxa is not only used therapeutically, but also as a pun-
jshment for very naughty children. See the interesting note on thi»
tubject in Professor Chamberlain's Things Japanese.

FROM HOKI TO OKL 605
demned to sojourn in the Gakido, the sphere of the
penance of perpetual hunger and thirst. But in
Japanese Buddhism, the name Gaki is given also to
those souls who have none among the living to re
member them, and to prepare for them the custo
mary offerings of food and tea.
These suffer, and seek to obtain warmth and nutri
ment by entering into the bodies of the living. The
person into whom a gaki enters at first feels intensely
cold and shivers, because the gaki is cold. But the
chill is followed by a feeling of intense heat, as the
gaki becomes warm. Having warmed itself and
absorbed some nourishment at the expense of its un
willing host, the gaki goes away, and the fever
ceases for a time. But at exactly the same hour
upon another day the gaki will return, and the vic
tim must shiver and burn until the haunter has be
come warm and has satisfied its hunger. Some gaki
visit their patients every day ; others every alternate
day, or even less often. In brief : the paroxysms of
any form of intermittent fever are explained by the
presence of the gaki, and the intervals between the
paroxysms by its absence, XXV.
Of the word hotoke (which becomes hotoke in
such compounds as nure-botoke,-'^ gaki-botoke), there
is something curious to say.
Hotoke signifies a Buddha.
Hotoke signifies also the Souls of the Dead, — since
faith holds that these, after worthy life, either enter
upon the way to Buddhahood, or become Buddhas.
^ Nure-botoke, " a wet god." This term is applied to the statue of
a deity left exposed to the open air.

606 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Hotoke, by euphemism, has likewise come to mean
a corpse : hence the verb hotoke-zukuri, " to look
ghastly," to have the semblance of one long dead.
And Hotoke-San is the narae of the Image of a
Face seen in the pupil of the eye, — Hotoke-San,
"the Lord Buddha." Not the Supreme of the Hok
kekyo, but that lesser Buddha who dwelleth in each
one of us, — the Spirit.^
Sang Rossetti : " Hooked and saw your heart in the
shadow of your eyes." Exactly converse is the Ori
ental thought. A Japanese lover would have said :
" I looked and saw my own Buddha in the shadow of
your eyes."
What is the psychical theory connected with so
singular a belief ? ^ I think it might be this : Tlie
Soul, within its own body, always remains viewless,
yet may reflect itself in the eyes of another, as in the
mirror of a necromancer. Vainly you gaze into the
ej'es of the beloved to discern her soul : you see there
only your own soul's shadow, diaphanous ; and be
yond is mystery alone — reaching to the Infinite.
But is not this true ? The Ego, as Schopenhauer
wonderfully said, is the dark spot in consciousness,
even as the point whereat the nerve of sight enters
the eye is blind. We see ourselves in others only :
only through others do we dimly guess that which
we are. And in the deepest love of another being do
we not indeed love ourselves ? What are the person-
i According to popular legend, in each eye of the child of a god
or a dragon two Buddhas are visible. The statement in some of the
Japanese ballads, that the hero sung of TaB.ii.four Buddhas in his eyes,
is equivalent to the declaration that each of his eyes had a double-
pupil. ^ The idea of the Atman will perhaps occur to many readers.

FROM HOKI TO OKL 607
alities, the individualities of us but countless vibra
tions in the Universal Being? Are we not all One
in the unknowable Ultimate ? One with the incon
ceivable past ? One with the everlasting future ?
XXVI.
In Oki, as in Izumo, the public school is slowly but
surely destroying many of the old superstitions. Even
the fishermen of the new generation laugh at things
in which their fathers believed. I was rather sur
prised to receive from an intelligent young sailor,
whom I had questioned through an interpreter about
the ghostly fire of Takuhizan, this scornful answer :
" Oh, we used to believe those things when we were
savages ; but we are civilized now ! "
Nevertheless, he was somewhat in advance of his
time. In the village to which he belonged I discov
ered that the Fox-superstition prevails to a degree
scarcely paralleled in any part of Izumo. The his
tory of the village was quite curious. From time
immemorial it had been reputed a settlement of ki-
tsune-mochi : in other words, all its inhabitants were
commonly believed, and perhaps believed themselves,
to be the owners of goblin-foxes. And being all alike
kitsune-mochi, they could eat and drink together, and
marry and give in marriage among themselves with
out affliction. They were feared with a ghostly fear
by the neighboring peasantry, who obeyed their de
mands both in matters reasonable and unreasonable.
They prospered exceedingly. But some twenty years
ago an Izumo stranger settled among them. He was
energetic, intelligent, and possessed of some capital.
He bought land, made various shrewd investments,
and in a surprisingly short time became the wealthiest

608 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
citizen in the place. He built a very pretty ShintS
temple and presented it to the community. There
was only one obstacle in the way of his becoming a
really popular person : he was not a kitsune-mochi,
and he had even said that he hated foxes. This
singularity threatened to beget discords in the mura,
especially as he married his children to strangers,
and thus began in the midst of the kitsune-mochi to
establish a sort of anti-Fox-holding colony.
Wherefore, for a long time past, the Fox-holders
have been trying to force tbeir superfluous gobhns
upon him. Shadows glide about the gate of his
dwelling on moonless nights, muttering : " Kaere !
kyo kara kokoye : kuruda ! " [Be off now ! from now
hereafter it is here that ye must dwell: go !] Then
are the upper shoji violently pushed apart ; and the
voice of the enraged house owner is heard : " Koko
wa kiraida! modori!" [Detestable is that which ye
do ! get ye gone !] And the Shadows flee away.-^
xxvn.
Because there were no cuttlefish at Hishi-ura,
and no horrid smells, I enjoyed myself there more
than I did anywhere else in Okd. But, in any event,
Hishi-ura would have interested me more than
Saigo. The life of the pretty little town is pecul
iarly old-fashioned ; and the ancient domestic indus
tries, which the introduction of machinery has almost
1 In 1892 a Japanese newspaper, published in Tokyo, stated upon
the authority of a physician who had visited Shimane, that the people
of Oki believe in ghostly dogs instead of ghostly foxes. This is a
mistake caused by the literal rendering of a term often used in Shi
mane, especiaUy in Iwami, namely, inu-gami-mochi. It is only a
euphemism for kitsune-mochi ; the inu-gami is only the hito-kitsune^
which is supposed to make itself visible in various animal forms.

FROM HOKI TO OKI. 609
destroyed in Izumo and elsewhere, still exist in Hi
shi-ura. It was pleasant to watch the rosy girls
weaving robes of cotton and robes of silk, relieving
each other whenever the work became fatiguing.
All this quaint gentle life is open to inspection, and
I loved to watch it. I had other pleasures also : the
bay is a delightful place for swimming, and there
were always boats ready to take me to any place of
interest along the coast. At night the sea breeze
made the rooms which I occupied deliciously cool ;
and from the balcony I could watch the bay-swell
breaking in slow, cold fire on the steps of the wharves,
— a beautiful phosphorescence ; and I could hear
Oki mothers singing their babes to sleep with one of
the oldest lullabys in the world : —
Nenneko, O-yama no
Usagi no ko,
Naze mata
O-mimi ga
Nagai e yara ?
Okkasan no
0-naka ni
Oru toku ni,
Biwa no ha,
Sasa no ha,
Tabeta sona ;
Sore de
O-mimi ga
Nagai e sona^
The air was singularly sweet and plaintive, quite
different from that to which the same words are sung
in Izumo, and in other parts of Japan.
^ Which words signify something like this : —
" Sleep, baby, sleep ! Why are the honorable ears of the Child of the
Hare ofthe honorable mountain so long? 'Tis because when he dwelt
within tier honored womb, his mamma ate the leaves of the loquat, the
kaves of the bamboo-grass. That is why his honorable ears are so long."

610 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
One morning I had hired a boat to take me to
Beppu, and was on the point of leaving the hotel for
the day, when the old landlady, touching my arm,
exclaimed : " Wait a little while ; it is not good to
cross a funeral." I looked round the corner, and
saw the procession coming along the shore. It was
a Shinto funeral, — a child's funeral. Young lads
came first, carrying Shinto emblems, — little white
flags, and branches of the sacred sakaki ; and after
the coffin the mother walked, a young peasant,
crying very loud, and wiping her eyes with the long
sleeves of her coarse blue dress. Then the old
woman at my side murmured : " She sorrows ; but
she is very young : perhaps It will come hack to her."
For she was a pious Buddhist, my good old landlady,
and doubtless supposed the mother's belief like her
own, although the funeral was conducted according
to the Shint5 rite. xxvm.
There are in Buddhism certain weirdly beautiful
consolations unknown to Western faith.
The young mother who loses her first child may
at least pray that it will come back to her out of the
night of death, — not in dreams only, but through
reincarnation. And so praying, she writes within
the hand of the little corpse the first ideograph of
her lost darling's name.
Months pass ; she again becomes a mother. Eagerly
she examines the flower-soft hand of the infant.
And lo ! the self-sarae ideograph is there, — a rosy
birth-mark on the tender palm; and the Soul re
turned looks out upon her through the eyes of the
newly born with the gaze of other days.

FROM HOKI TO OKL 611
XXIX.
While on the subject of death I may speak of a
primitive but touching custom which exists both in
Oki and Izumo, — that of calling the name of the dead
immediately after death. For it is thought that the
call may be heard by the fleeting soul, which might
sometimes be thus induced to return. Therefore,
when a mother dies, the children should first call her,
and of all the children first the youngest (for she
loved that one most) ; and then the husband and all
those who loved the dead cry to her in turn.
And it is also the custom to call loudly the name
of one who faints, or becomes insensible from any
cause; and there are curious beliefs underlying this
custom. It is said that of those who swoon from pain or
grief especiaUy, many approach very nearly to death,
and these always have the same experience. " You
feel," said one to me in answer to my question about
the belief, " as if you were suddenly somewhere else,
and quite happy, — only tired. And you know that
you want to go to a Buddhist temple which is quite
far away. At last you reach the gate of the temple
court, and you see the temple inside, and it is won
derfully large and beautiful. And you pass the gate
and enter the court to go to the temple. But sud
denly you hear voices of friends far behind you call
ing your name — very, very earnestly. So you turn
back, and all at once you come to yourself again.
At least it is so if your heart cares to live. But one
who is really tired of living will not listen to the
voices, and walks on to the temple. And what there
happens no man knows, for they who enter that
temple never return to their friends.

612 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
" That is why people call loudly into the ear of one
who swoons.
" Now, it is said that all who die, before going to
the Meido, make one pilgrimage to tbe great temple
of Zenkoji, which is in the country of Shinano, in
Nagano- Ken. And they say that whenever the priest
of that temple preaches, he sees the Souls gather
there in the hondo to hear him, all witb white wrap
pings about their heads. So Zenkoji might be the
temple which is seen by those who swoon. But I do
not know." xxx.
I went by boat from Hishi-ura to Amamura, in
Nakanoshima, to visit the tomb of the exiled Em
peror Go-Toba. The scenery along the way was
beautiful, and of softer outline than I had seen on my
first passage through the archipelago. Small rocks
rising from the water were covered with sea-gulls
and cormorants, which scarcely took any notice of
the boat, even when we came almost within an oar's
length. This fearlessness of wild creatures is one of
the most charming impressions of travel in these re
moter parts of Japan, yet unvisited by tourists with
shotguns. The early European and American hunt
ers in Japan seem to have found no difficulty and
felt no compunction in exterminating what they con
sidered " game " over whole districts, destroying life
merely for the wanton pleasure of destruction. Their
example is being imitated now by " Young Japan,"
and the destruction of bird life is only imperfectly
checked by game laws. Happily, the government
does interfere sometimes to check particular forms of
the hunting vice. Some brutes who had observed
the habits of swallows to make their nests in Japa-

FROM HOKI TO OKI. 613
nese houses, last year offered to purchase some thou
sands of swallow-skins at a tempting price. The
effect of the advertisement was cruel enough-, but
the police were promptly notified to stop the murder
ing, which they did. About the same time, in one
of the Yokohama papers, there appeared a letter
from some holy person announcing, as a triumph of
Christian sentiment, that a " converted " fisherman
had been persuaded by foreign proselytizers to kill
a turtle, which his Buddhist comrades had vainly
begged him to spare.
Amamura, a very small village, lies in a narrow
plain of rice-fields extending from the sea to a range
of low hills. From the landing-place to the village
is about a quarter of a mile. The naiTow path lead
ing to it passes round the base of a small hill,
covered with pines, on the outskirts of the village.
There is quite a handsome Shinto temple on the hill,
small, but admirably constructed, approached by
stone steps and a paved walk. There are the usual
lions and lamps of stone, and the ordinary simple
offerings of paper and women's hair before the shrine.
But I saw among the ex-voto a number of curious
things which I had never seen in Izumo, — tiny min
iature buckets, well-buckets, with rope and pole com
plete, neatly fashioned out of bamboo. The boatman
said that farmers bring these to the shrine when
praying for rain. The deity was called Suwa^Dai-
Myojin. It was at the neighboring village, of which Suwa-
Dai-Myojin seems to be the ujigami, that the Em
peror Go-Toba is said to have dwelt, in the house of
the Choja Shikekuro. The Shikekuro homestead

614 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
remains, and still belongs to the Choja's descend
ants, but they have become very poor. I asked per
mission to see the cups from which the exiled em
peror drank, and other relics of his stay said to be
preserved by the family ; but in consequence of ill
ness in the house I could not be received. So I had
only a glimpse of the garden, where there is a cele
brated pond, — a kembutsu.
The pond is called Shikekuro's Pond, — Shike-
kuro-no-ike. And for seven hundred years, 't is said,
the frogs of that pond have never been heard to
croak. For the Emperor Go-Toba, having one night been
kept awake by the croaking of the frogs in that
pond, arose and went out and commanded thera,
saying : " Be silent 1 " Wherefore they have remained
silent through all the centuries even unto this day.
Near the pond there was in that time a great
pine-tree, of which the rustling upon windy nights
disturbed tbe emperor's rest. And he spoke to the
pine-tree, and said to it : " Be still ! " And never
thereafter was that tree heard to rustle, even in time
of storms.
But that tree has ceased to be. Nothing remains
of it but a few fragments of its wood and bark,
which are carefully preserved as relics by the ancients
of Oki. Such a fragment was shown to me in the
toko of the guest chamber of the dwelling of a phy
sician of Saigo, — the same gentleman whose kind
ness I have related elsewhere.
The tomb of the emperor lies on the slope of a
low hill, at a distance of about ten minutes' walk
from the village. It is far less imposing than the

FROM HOKI TO OKL 615
least of the tombs of the Matsudaira at Matsue, in
the grand old courts of Gesshoji ; but it was perhaps
the best which the poor little country of Oki could
furnish. This is not, however, the original place of
the tomb, which was moved by imperial order in the
sixth year of Meiji to its present site. A lofty fence,
or rather stockade of heavy wooden posts, painted
black, incloses a piece of ground perhaps one hun
dred and fifty feet long, by about fifty broad, and
graded into three levels, or low terraces. All the space
within is shaded by pines. In the centre of the last
and highest of the little terraces the tomb is placed : a
single large slab of gray rock laid horizontally. A
narrow paved walk leads from the gate to the tomb,
ascending each terrace by three or four stone steps.
A little within this gateway, which is opened to
visitors only once a year, there is a torii facing the
sepulchre ; and before the highest terrace there are a
pair of stone lamps. All this is severely simple, but
effective in a certain touching way. The country
stillness is broken only by the shrilling of the semi
and the tintinnabulation of that strange little insect,
the suzumushi, whose calling sounds just like the
tinkling of the tiny bells which are shaken by the
miko in her sacred dance. XXXI.
I remained nearly eight days at Hishi-ura on the
occasion of my second visit there, but only three at
Urago. Urago proved a less pleasant place to stay
in, — not because its smells were any stronger than
those of Saigo, but for other reasons which shall pres
ently appear.
More than one foreign man-of-war has touched at

616 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Saigo, and English and Russian officers of the navy
have been seen in the streets. They were tall, fair-
haired, stalwart men ; and the people of Oki still im
agine that all foreigners from the West have the same
stature and complexion. I was the first foreigner
who ever remained even a night in the town, and I
stayed there two weeks ; but being small and dark,
and dressed like a Japanese, I excited little attention
among the common people : it seemed to them that I
was only a curious - looking Japanese from some re
mote part of the empire. At Hishi-ura the same im
pression prevailed for a time ; and even after the fact
of my being a foreigner had become generally known,
the population caused me no annoyance whatever :
they had already become accustomed to see me walk
ing about the streets or swimming across the bay.
But it was quite otherwise at Urago. The first time
I landed there I had managed to escape notice, being
in Japanese costume, and wearing a very large Izumo
hat, which partly concealed my face. After I left
for Saigo, the people must have found out tbat a
foreigner — the very first ever seen in Dozen — had
actually been in Urago without their knowledge ;
for my second visit made a sensation such as I had
never been the cause of anywhere else, except at
Kaka-ura. I had barely time to enter the hotel, before the
street became entirely blockaded by an amazing
crowd desirous to see. The hotel was unfortunately
situated on a corner, so that it was soon besieged on
two sides. I was shown to a large back room on the
second floor ; and I had no sooner squatted down on
my mat, than the people began to come upstairs
quite noiselessly, aU leaving their sandals at the foot

FROM HOKI TO OKL 617
of the steps. They were too polite to enter the room ;
but four or five would put their heads through the
doorway at once, and bow, and smile, and look, and
retire to make way for those who filled the stairway
behind them. It was no easy matter for the servant
to bring me my dinner. Meanwhile, not only had
the upper rooms of the houses across the way become
packed with gazers, but all the roofs — north, east,
and south — which commanded a view of my apart
ment had been occupied by men and boys in multi
tude. Numbers of lads had also climbed (I never
could imagine how) upon the narrow eavts over the
galleries below my windows ; and all the openings of
my room, on three sides, were full of faces. Then
tiles gave way, and boys fell, but nobody appeared
to be hurt. And the queerest fact was that during
the performance of these extraordinary gymnastics
there was a silence of death : had I not seen the
throng, I might have supposed there was not a soul
in the street.
The landlord began to scold ; but, finding scolding
of no avail, he summoned a policeman. The police
man begged me to excuse the people, who had never
seen a foreigner before ; and asked me if I wished
him to clear the street. He could have done that by
merely lifting his little finger; but as the scene
amused me, I begged him not to order the people
away, but only to tell the boys not to climb upon the
awnings, some of which they had already damaged.
He told them most effectually, speaking in a very
low voice. During all the rest of the tirae I was in
Urago, no one dared to go near the awnings. A Jap
anese policeman never speaks more than once about
anything new, and always speaks to the purpose.

618 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILLAR JAPAN.
The public curiosity, however, lasted without abate
for three days, and would have lasted longer if I had
not fled from Urago. Whenever I went out I drew
the population after me with a pattering of geta like
the sound of surf moving shingle. STet, except for
that particular sound, there was sik ace. No word
was spoken. Whether this was because the whole
mental faculty was so strained by the intensity of the
desire to see that speech became impossible, I am not
able to decide. But there was no roughness in all
that curiosity ; there was never anything approaching
rudeness, except in the matter of ascending to my
loom without leave ; and that was done so gently
that I could not wish the intruders rebuked. Never
theless, three days of such experience proved trying.
Despite the heat, I had to close the doors and win
dows at night to prevent myself being watched while
asleep. About my effects I had no anxiety at all :
thefts are never committed in the island. But that
perpetual silent crowding about me became at last
more than embarrassing. It was innocent, but it was
weird. It made me feel like a ghost, — a new arrival
in the Meido, surrounded by shapes without voice,
xxxn.
There is very little privacy of anj sort in Japa
nese life. Among the people, indeed, what we term
privacy, in the Occident, does not exist. There are
only walls of paper dividing the lives oi men ; there
are only sliding screens instead of doors ; there are
neither locks nor bolts to be used by day ; and when
ever weather permits, the fronts, and perhaps even
the sides of the house are literally removed, and its
interior widely opened to the air, the light, and the

FROM HOKI TO OKL 619
public gaze. Not even the rich man closes his front
gate by day. Within a hotel or even a common
dwelling-house, nobody knocks before entering your
room : there is nothing to knock at except a shoji or
fusuma, which cannot be knocked upon without be
ing broken. And in this world of paper walls and
sunshine, nobody is afraid or ashamed of fellow-men
or fellow-women. Whatever is done, is done, after a
fashion, in public. Your personal habits, your idio
syncrasies (if you have any), your foibles, your likes
and dislikes, your loves or your hates, must be
known to everybody. Neither vices nor virtues can
be hidden : there is absolutely nowhere to hide them.
And this condition has lasted from the most ancient
time. There has never been, for the common millions
at least, even the idea of living unobserved. Life
can be comfortably and happily lived in Japan only
upon the condition that all matters relating to it are
open to the inspection of the community. Which
implies exceptional moral conditions, such as have
no being in the West. It is perfectly comprehen
sible only to those who know by experience the ex
traordinary charm of Japanese character, the infinite
goodness of the common people, their instinctive po
liteness, and the absence among them of any tenden
cies to indulge in criticism, ridicule, irony, or sarcasm.
No one endeavors to expand his own individuality
by belittling his fellow ; no one tries to make himself
appear a superior being : any such attempt would be
vain in a community where the weaknesses of each
are known to all, where nothing can be concealed or
disguised, and where affectation could only be re
garded as a mild form of insanity.

620 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
xxxm.
Some of the old samurai of Matsue are living in the
Oki Islands, When the great railitary caste was dis
established, a few shrewd men decided to try their
fortunes in the httle archipelago, where customs re
mained old-fashioned and lands were cheap. Several
succeeded, — probably because of the whole-souled
honesty and simplicity of manners in the islands ; for
samurai have seldom elsewhere been able to succeed
in business of any sort when obhged to compete with
experienced traders. Others failed, but were able
to adopt various humble occupations which gave
them the means to live.
Besides these aged survivors of the feudal period, I
learned there were in Oki several children of once
noble families — youths and maidens of illustrious
extraction — bravely facing the new conditions of life
in this remotest and poorest region of the empire.
Daughters of men to whom the population of a town
once bowed down were learning the bitter toil of the
rice-fields. Youths, who might in another era have
aspired to offices of state, had become the trusted
servants of Oki heimin. Others, again, had entered
the police, •'^ and rightly deemed themselves fortunate.
No doubt that change of civilization forced upon
Japan by Christian bayonets, for the holy motive of
gain, may yet save the empire from perils greater
than those of the late social disintegration ; but it
was cruelly sudden. To imagine the consequence of
1 The Japanese police are nearly all of the samurai class, now called
shizoku. I think this force may be considered the most perfect police
in the world ; but whether it will retain those magniflcent qualities
which at present distinguish it, after the lapse of another generation,
is doubtful. It is now the samurai blood that tells.

FROM HOKI TO OKI. 621
depriving the English landed gentry of their reve
nues would not enable one to realize exactly what a
similar privation signified to the Japanese samurai.
For the old warrior caste knew only the arts of
courtesy and the arts of war.
And hearing of these things, I could not help
thinking about a strange pageant at the last great
Izumo festival of Rakusan-jinja. XXXIV.
The hamlet of Rakuzan, known only for its bright
yellow pottery and its little Shinto temple, drowses
at the foot of a wooded hill about one ri from Matsue,
beyond a wilderness of rice-fields. And the deity of
Rakuzan-jinja is Naomasa, grandson of lyeyasu, and
father of the Daimyo of Matsue.
Some of the Matsudaira slumber in Buddhist
ground, guarded by tortoises and lions of stone, in the
marvelous old courts of Gesshoji. But Naomasa, the
founder of their long line, is enshrined at Rakuzan ;
and the Izumo peasants still clap their hands in
prayer before his miya, and implore his love and
protection. Now formerly upon each annual matsuri, or festi
val, of Rakuzan-jinja, it was customary to carry the
miya of Naomasa-San from the village temple to the
castle of Matsue. In solemn procession it was borne
to those strange old family temples in the heart of
the fortress-grounds, — Go - jo - nai - Inari - Daimyojin,
and Kusunoki-Matsuhira-Inari-Daimyojin, — whose
mouldering courts, peopled with lions and foxes of
stone, are shadowed by enormous trees. After cer
tain Shinto rites had been performed at both temples,
the miya was carried back in procession to Rakuzan.

622 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
And this annual ceremony was called the miyuki or
togyo, — " the August Going," or Visit, of the ances
tor to the ancestral home.
But the revolution changed all things. The dai-
jnyo passed away ; the castles fell to ruin ; the
saraurai caste was abolished and dispossessed. And
the miya of Lord Naomasa made no August Visit to
the home of the Matsudaira for more than thirty
years. But it came to pass a little time ago, that certain
old men of Matsue bethought thera to revive once
more the ancient customs of the Rakuzan matsuri.
And there was a miyuki.
The miya of Lord Naomasa was placed within a
barge, draped and decorated, and so conveyed by
river and canal to the eastern end of the old Matsu-
bara road, along whose pine-shaded way the daimyo
formerly departed to Yedo on their annual visit, or
returned therefrom. All those who rowed the barge
were aged samurai who had been wont in their youth
to row the barge of Matsudaira-Dewa-no-Kami, the
last Lord of Izumo. They wore their ancient feudal
costume ; and they tried to sing their ancient boat-
song, — o-funa-uta. But more than a generation had
passed since the last time they had sung it ; and
some of them had lost their teeth, so that they could
not pronounce the words well; and all, being aged,
lost breath easily in the exertion of wielding the oars.
Nevertheless they rowed the barge to the place ap
pointed. Thence the shrine was borne to a spot by the side
of the Matsubara road, where anciently stood an
August Tea-House, 0-Chaya, at which the daimyo,
returning from the Shogun's capital, were accustomed

FROM HOKI TO OKI. 623
to rest and to receive their faithful retainers, who
always came in procession to meet them. No tea
house stands there now ; but, in accord with old cus
tom, the shrine and its escort waited at the placer
among the wild -flowers and the pines. And ther.
was seen a strange sight.
For there came to meet tbe ghost of the great lord
a long procession of shapes that seemed ghosts also,
— shapes risen out of the dust of cemeteries : warriors
in crested helmets and masks of iron and breast
plates of steel, girded with two swords ; and spear
men wearing queues ; and retainers in kamishimo ;
and bearers of hasami-bako. Yefc ghosts these were
not, but aged samurai of Matsue, who had borne
arms in tbe service of the last of the daimyo. And
among them appeared his surviving ministers, the
venerable karo ; and these, as the procession turned
city-ward, took their old places of honor, and marched
before the shrine valiantly, though bent with years.
How that pageant might have impressed other
strangers I do not know. For me, knowing some
thing of the history of each of those aged men, the
scene had a significance apart from its story of for
gotten customs, apart from its interest as a feudal
procession. To-day each and all of those old samu
rai are unspeakably poor. Their beautiful homes
vanished long ago ; their gardens have been turned
into rice-fields ; their household treasures were cru
elly bargained for, and bought for almost nothing by
curio-dealers to be resold at high prices to foreigners
at the open ports. And yet what they could have
obtained considerable money for, and what had
ceased to be of any service to them, they clung to
fondly through all their poverty and humiliation.

624 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Never could they be induced to part with their armor
and their swords, even when pressed by direst want,
under the new and harder conditions of existence.
The river banks, the streets, the balconies, and
blue-tiled roofs were thronged. There was a great
quiet as the procession passed. Young people gazed
in hushed wonder, feeling the rare worth of that
chance to look upon what will belong in the future
to picture-books only and to the quaint Japanese
stage. And old men wept silently, remembering
their youth.
Well spake the ancient thinker : " Everything is
only for a day, both thai which remembers, and that
which is remembered." XXXV,
Once more, homeward bound, I sat upon the
cabin-roof of the Oki-Saigo, — this time happily un
encumbered by watermelons, — and tried to explain
to myself the feeling of melancholy with wbich I
watched those wild island-coasts vanishing over the
pale sea into the white horizon. No doubt it was
inspired partly by the recollection of kindnesses re
ceived from many whom I shall never meet again ;
partly, also, by my familiarity with the ancient soil
itself, and remembrance of shapes and places : the
long blue visions down channels between islands, —
the faint gray fishing hamlets hiding in stony bays, —
the elfish oddity of narrow streets in little primitive
towns, — the forms and tints of peak and vale made
lovable by daily intimacy, — the crooked broken paths
to shadowed shrines of gods with long mysterious
names, — the butterfly-drifting of yellow sails out of
the glow of an unknown horizon. Yet I think it was

FROM HOKI TO OKL 625
due much more to a particular sensation in which
every memory was steeped and toned, as a landscape
is steeped in the light and toned in the colors of the
morning : the sensation of conditions closer to Na
ture's heart, and farther from the monstrous ma
chine-world of Western life than any into which I
had ever entered north of the torrid zone. And then
it seemed to me that I loved Oki — in spite of the
cuttlefish, — chiefly because of having felt there, as
nowhere else in Japan, the full joy of escape from
the far-reaching influences of high-pressure civiliza
tion, — the dehght of knowing one's self, in Dozen at
least, well beyond the range of everything artificial
iu human existence.

XXIV
OF SOULS.
KlKJUEO, the ancient gardener, whose head shines
like an ivory ball, sat him down a moment on the
edge of the ita-no-ma outside my study to smoke
his pipe at the hibachi always left there for him.
And as he smoked he found occasion to reprove the
boy who assists him. What the boy had been doing
I did not exactly know ; but I heard Kinjuro bid him
try to comport himself like a creature having more
than one Soul. And because those words interested
me I went out and sat down by Kinjuro.
" O Kinjuro," I said, " whether I myself have one
or more Souls I am not sure. But it would much
please me to learn how many Souls have you."
" I-the-Selfish-One have only four Souls," made
answer Kinjuro, with conviction imperturbable.
" Four ? " reechoed I, feeling doubtful of having
understood. "Four," he repeated. "But that boy I think
can have only one Soul, so much is he wanting in
patience." " And in what manner," I asked, " came you to
learn that you have four Souls ? "
" There are wise men," made he answer, while
knocking the ashes out of his little silver pipe, " there
are wise men who know these things. And there is
an ancient book which discourses of them. Accord
ing to the age of a man, and the time of his birth,
and the stars of heaven, may the number of his Souls

OF SOULS. 627
be divined. But this is the knowledge of old men :
the young folk of these times who learn the things of
the West do not believe."
" And tell me, O Kinjuro, do there now exist peo
ple having more Souls than you ? "
" Assuredly. Some have five, some six, sorae
seven, some eight Souls. But no one is by the gods
permitted to have more Souls than nine,"
[Now this, as a universal statement, I could not be
lieve, remembering a woman upon the other side of
the world who possessed many generations of Souls,
and knew how to use them all. She wore her Souls
just as other women wear their dresses, and changed
them several times a day ; and the multitude of
dresses in the wardrobe of Queen Elizabeth was as
nothing to the multitude of this wonderful person's
Souls. For which reason she never appeared the
same upon two different occasions ; and she changed
her thought and her voice with her Souls. Some
times she was of the South, and her eyes were brown ;
and again she was of the North, and ber eyes were
gray. Sometimes she was of the thirteenth, and
sometimes of the eighteenth century ; and people
doubted their own senses when they saw these things ;
and they tried to find out the truth by begging pho
tographs of her, and then comparing them. Now the
photographers rejoiced to photograph her because
she was more than fair : but presently they also were
confounded by the discovery that she was never the
same subject twice. So tbe men who most ad
mired her could not presume to fall in love with her
because that would have been absurd. She had
altogether too many Souls. And some of you who

628 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
read this I have written will bear witness to the
verity thereof.]
" Concerning this Country of the Gods, O Kinjuro,
that which you say may be true. But there are other
countries having only gods made of gold ; and in those
countries matters are not so well arranged ; and the
inhabitants thereof are plagued with a plague of
Souls. For while some have but half a Soul, or no
Soul at all, others have Souls in multitude thrust
upon them for which neither nutriment nor employ
can be found. And Souls thus situated torment ex
ceedingly their owners. , . . That is to say, Western
Souls. . . . But tell me, I pray you, what is the use
of having more than one or two Souls ? "
" Master, if all had the same number and quality
of Souls, all would surely be of one mind. But that
people are different from each other is apparent ; and
the differences among them are because of the differ
ences in the quality and the number of their Souls."
" And it is better to have many Souls than a few ? "
" It is better."
" And the man having but one Soul is a being im
perfect ? "
" Very imperfect."
"Yet a rnan very imperfect might have had an
ancestor perfect ? "
" That is true."
" So that a man of to-day possessing but one Soul
may have had an ancestor with nine Souls ? "
" Yes."
" Then what has become of those other eight Souls
which the ancestor possessed, but which the descend
ant is without ? "

OF SOULS. 629
" Ah ! that is the work of the gods. The gods
alone fix the number of Souls for each of us. To the
worthy are many given ; to the unworthy few."
" Not from the parents, then, do the Souls de
scend?" " Nay ! Most ancient the Souls are : innumerable
the years of them."
" And this I desire to know : Can a man separate
his Souls ? Can he, for instance, have one Soul in
Kyoto and one in Tokyo and one in Matsue, all at
the same time ? "
" He cannot ; they remain always together."
" How ? One within the other, — like the little
lacquered boxes of an inro ? "
" Nay : that none but the gods know."
" And the Souls are never separated ? "
" Sometimes they may be separated. But if the
Souls of a man be separated, that man becomes
mad. Mad people are those who have lost one of
their Souls."
" But after death what becomes of the Souls ? "
" They remain still together. , , . When a man
dies his Souls ascend to the roof of the house. And
they stay upon the roof for the space of nine and
forty days,"
" On what part of the roof ? "
" On the yane-no-mune, — upon the Ridge of the
Roof they stay."
" Can they be seen ? "
" Nay : they are like the air is. To and fro upon
the Ridge of the Roof they move, like a little wind."
" Why do they not stay upon the roof for fifty days
instead of forty-nine ? "
" Seven weeks is the time allotted them before

630 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
they must depart : seven weeks make the measure of
forty-nine days. But why this should be, I cannot
teU." I was not unaware of the ancient belief that the
spirit of a dead man haunts for a time the roof of his
dwelling, because it is referred to quite impressively
in many Japanese dramas, among others in the play
called Kagami-yama, which makes the people weep.
But I had not before heard of triplex and quadruplex
and other yet more highly complex Souls; and I
questioned Kinjuro vainly in the hope of learning
the authority for his beliefs. They were the beliefs
of his fathers : that was all he knew.^
1 Afterwards I found that the old man had expressed to me only
one popular form of a belief which would require a large book to fully
explain, — a belief founded upon Chinese astrology, but possibly
modifled by Buddhist aud by Shinto ideas. This notion of compound
Souls cannot be explained at all without a prior knowledge of the
astrological relation between the Chinese Zodiacal Signs and the Ten
Celestial Stems. Some underatanding of these may be obtained from
the curious article "Time," in Professor Chamberlain's admirable
little book. Things Japanese. The relation having been perceived, it
is further necessary to know that under the Chinese a.strological sys
tem each year is under the influence of one or other of the " Five
Elements," — Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water; and according to
the day and year of one's birth, one's temperament is celestially de
cided. A Japanese mnemonic verse tells us the number of souls or
natures corresponding to each of the Five Elemental Influences, —
namely, nine souls for Wood, three for Fire, one for Earth, seven for
Metal, five for Water : — Kiku karani
Himitsu no yama ni
Tsuchi hitotsu
Nanatsu kane to zo
Go suiryd are.
Multiplied into ten by being each one divided into " Elder " and
" Younger," the Five Elements become the Ten Celestial Stems ; and
their influences are commingled with those of the Rat, Bull, Tiger,
Hare, Dragon, Serpent, Horse, Goat, Ape, Cock, Dog, and Boar (the
twelve Zodiacal Signs), — all of which have relations to time, place.

OF SOULS. 631
Like most Izumo folk, Kinjuro was a Buddhist as
well as a Shintoist. As the former he belonged to
the Zen-shii, as the latter to the Izumo-Taisha. Yet
his ontology seemed to me not of either. Buddhism
does not teach the doctrine of compound-multiple
Souls. There are old Shinto books inaccessible to
the multitude which speak of a doctrine very re
motely akin to Kinjuro's ; but Kinjuro had never
seen them. Those books say that each of us has two
souls, — the Ara-t'dma, or Rough Soul, which is vindic
tive ; and tbe Nigi-tama, or Gentle Soul, which is all-
forgiving. Furthermore, we are all possessed by the
spirit of Oho-maga-tsu-hi-no-Kami, the " Wondrous
Deity of Exceeding Great Evils ; " also by the spirit
of Oho-naho-bi-no-Kami, the " Wondrous Great Rec
tifying Deity," a counteracting influence. These
were not exactly the ideas of Kinjuro. But I re
membered something Hirata wrote which reminded
me of Kinjuro's words about a possible separation of
souls. Hirata's teaching was that the ara-tama of a
man may leave his body, assume his shape, and with
out his knowledge destroy a hated enemy. So I
life, luck, mbfortune, etc. But even these hints give no idea what
ever how enormously complicated the subject really is.
The book the old gardener referred to — once as widely known in
Japan as ever fortune-telling book in any European country — was
the San-ze-so, copies of which may still be picked up. Contrary to
Kinjuro's opinion, however, it is held, by those learned in such Chinese
matters, just as bad to have too many souls as to have too few. To
have nine souls is to be too "many-minded," — without fixed pur
pose ; to have only one soul is to lack quick intelligence. According
to the Chinese astrological ideas, the word " natures " or " characters "
would perhaps be more accurate than the word " souls " in this case.
There is a world of curious fancies, born out of these beliefs. For
one example of hundreds, a person having a Fire-nature must not
marry one having a Water-nature. Hence the proverbial saying about
two who cannot agree, — " They are like Fire and Water."
VOL. II.

632 GLLMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
asked Kinjuro about it. He said he had never heard
of a nigi-tama or an ara-tama; but he told me this: —
" Master, when a man has been discovered by his
wife to be secretly enamored of another, it sometimes
happens that the guilty woman is seized with a sick
ness that no physician can cure. For one of the
Souls of the wife, moved exceedingly by anger, passes
into the body of that woman to destroy her. But the
wife also sickens, or loses her mind awhile, because
of the absence of her Soul.
" And there is another and more wonderful thing
known to us of Nippon, which you, being of the
West, raay never have heard. By the power of the
gods, for a righteous purpose, sometimes a Soul may
be withdrawn a little while from its body, and be
made to utter its most secret thought. But no suf
fering to the body is then caused. And the wonder
is wrought in this wise : —
" A man loves a beautiful girl whom he is at lib
erty to marry ; but he doubts whether he can hope
to make her love him in return. He seeks the kan
nushi of a certain Shinto temple,^ and tells of his
doubt, and asks the aid of the gods to solve it. Then
the priests demand, not his name, but his age and
the year and day and hour of his birth, which they
write down for the gods to know; and they bid the
man return to the temple after the space of seven
days. " And during those seven days the priests offer
prayer to the gods that the doubt may be solved ;
and one of them each morning bathes all his body in
cold, pure water, and at each repast eats only food
1 Usually an Inari temple. Such things are never done at tht
great Shinto shrines.

OF SOULS. 633
prepared with holy fire. And on the eighth day the
man returns to the temple, and enters an inner
chamber where the priests receive him.
" A ceremony is performed, and certain prayers
are said, after which all wait in silence. And then,
the priest who has performed the rites of purifica
tion suddenly begins to tremble violently in all his
body, like one trembling with a great fever. And
this is because, by the power of the gods, the Soul
of the girl whose love is doubted has entered, all
fearfully, into the body of that priest. She does not
know ; for at that time, wherever she may be, she is
in a deep sleep from which nothing can arouse her.
But her Soul, having been summoned into the body
of the priest, can speak nothing save the truth ; and
It is made to tell all Its thought. And the priest
speaks not with his own voice, but with the voice of
the Soul ; and he speaks in the person of the Soul,
saying: 'I love,' or ' I hate,' according as the truth
may be, and in the language of women. If there be
hate, then tbe reason of the hate is spoken; but if the
answer be of love, there is little to say. And then
the trembling of the priest stops, for the Soul passes
frora him ; and he falls forward upon his face like
one dead, and long so remains."
" Tell me, Kinjuro," I asked, after all these queer
things had been related to me, "have you yourself
ever known of a Soul being removed by the power of
the gods, and placed in the heart of a priest ? "
" Yes : I myself have known it."
I remained silent and waited. The old man emp
tied his little pipe, threw it down beside the hibachi,
folded his hands, and looked at the lotus-flowers for

634 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
some time before he spoke again. Then he smiled
and said: —
" Master, I married when I was very young. For
many years we had no children : tben my wife at
last gave me a son, and becarae a Buddha. But my
son lived and grew up handsome and strong ; and
when the Revolution came, he joined the armies of
the Son of Heaven ; and he died the death of a man
in the great war of the South, in Kyiishii. I loved
him ; and I wept with joy when I heard that he had
been able to die for our Sacred Emperor: since there
is no more noble death for the son of a samurai. So
they buried my boy far away from me in Kyiishii,
upon a hill near Kumamoto, which is a famous city
with a strong garrison ; and I went there to make
his tomb beautiful. But his name is here also, in
Ninomaru, graven on the monument to the men of
Izumo who fell in the good fight for loyalty and
honor in our emperor's holy cause ; and when I see
his name there, my heart laughs, and I speak to him,
and then it seems as if he were walking beside me
again, under the great pines. . . . But all that is
another matter.
" I sorrowed for my wife. All the years we had
dwelt together, no unkind word had ever been ut
tered between us. And when she died, I thought
never to marry again. But after two more years
had passed, my father and mother desired a daughter
in the house, and they told me of their wish, and of
a girl who was beautiful and of good family, though
poor. The family were of our kindred, and the girl
was their only support : she wove garments of siUc
and garments of cotton, and for this she received but

OF SOULS. 635
little money. And because she was filial and comely,
and our kindred not fortunate, my parents desired
that I should marry her and help her people ; for in
those days we had a small income of rice. Then,
being accustomed to obey my parents, I suffered
them to do what they thought best. So the nakodo
was sumraoned, and the arrangements for the wed
ding began.
" Twice I was able to see the girl in the house of
her parents. And I thought myself fortunate the first
time I looked upon her ; for she was very comely and
young. But the second time, I perceived she had
been weeping, and that her eyes avoided mine. Then
my heart sank ; for I thought : She dislikes me ; and
they are forcing her to this thing. Then I resolved
to question the gods ; and I caused the marriage to
be delayed ; and I went to the temple of Yanagi-no-
Inari-Sama, which is in the Street Zaimokucho.
"And when the trembling came upon him, the
priest, speaking with the Soul of that maid, declared
to me : ' My heart hates you, and the sight of your
face gives me sickness, because I love another, and
because this marriage is forced upon me. Yet though
my heart hates you, I must marry you because my
parents are poor and old, and I alone cannot long
continue to support them, for my work is killing me.
But though I may strive to be a dutiful wife, there
never will be gladness in your house because of me ;
for my heart hates you with a great and lasting hate ;
and the sound of your voice makes a sickness in my
breast (koe kiite mo mune ga waruku naru) ; and
only to see your face makes me wish that I were
dead (kao miru to shinitaku naru).''
" Thus knowing the truth, I told it to my parents |

636 GLLMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
and I wrote a letter of kind words to the maid, pray.
ing pardon for the pain I had unknowingly caused
her ; and I feigned long illness, that the marriage
might be broken off without gossip ; and we made a
gift to that family ; and the maid was glad. For
she was enabled at a later time to marry the young
man she loved. My parents never pressed me again
to take a wife ; and since their death I have lived
alone. . . . O Master, look upon the extreme wick
edness of that boy ! "
Taking advantage of our conversation, Kinjuro's
young assistant had improvised a rod and line with
a bamboo stick and a bit of string ; and had fastened
to the end of the string a pellet of tobacco stolen
from the old man's pouch. With this bait he had
been fishing in the lotus pond ; and a frog had swal
lowed it, and was now suspended high above the
pebbles, sprawling in rotary motion, kicking in
frantic spasms of disgust and despair. " Kaji ! "
shouted the gardener.
The boy dropped his rod with a laugh, and ran to
us unabashed ; while the frog, having disgorged the
tobacco, plopped back into the lotus pond. Evidently
Kaji was not afraid of scoldings.
" Gosho ga warui ! " declared the old man, shaking
his ivory head. " O Kaji, much I fear that your next
birth will be bad ! Do I buy tobacco for frogs ?
Master, said I not rightly this boy has but one
Soul?"

xxv
OF GHOSTS AND GOBLINS,

There was a Buddha, according to the Hokkekyo,
who " even assumed the shape of a goblin to preach
to such as were to be converted by a goblin." And
in the same Sutra may be found this promise of the
Teacher : " While he is dwelling lonely in the wilder
ness, I will send thither goblins in great number to
keep him company." The appalling character of this
promise is indeed somewhat modified by the assur
ance that gods also are to be sent. But if ever I
become a holy man, I shall take heed not to dwell
in the wilderness, because I have seen Japanese gob
lins, and I do not like them.
Kinjuro showed them to me last night. They had
come to town for the matsuri of our own ujigami,
or parish-temple ; and, as there were many curious
things to be seen at the night festival, we started for
the temple after dark, Kinjuro carrying a paper lan
tern painted with my crest.
It had snowed heavily in the morning ; but now
the sky and the sharp still air were clear as diamond ;
and the crisp snow made a pleasant crunching sound
under our feet as we walked ; and it occurred to me
to say : " O Kinjuro, is there a God of Snow ? "
" I cannot tell," replied Kinjuro. " There be many
gods I do not know ; and there is not any man who
knows the names of all the gods. But there is the
Yuki-Onna, the Woman of the Snow."

638 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
" And what is the Yuki-Onna ? "
" She is the White One that makes the Faces in
the snow. She does not any harm, only makes afraid.
By day she lifts only her head, and frightens those
who journey alone. But at night she rises up some
times, taller than the trees, and looks about a little
while, and then falls back in a shower of snow." ^
" What is her face like ? "
" It is all white, white. It is an enormous face.
And it is a lonesome face."
[The word Kinjuro used was samushii. Its com
mon meaning is " lonesome " ; but he used it, I think,
in the sense of " weird."]
" Did you ever see her, Kinjuro ? "
" Master, I never saw her. But my father told me
that once when he was a child, he wanted to go to a
neighbor's house through the snow to play with an
other little boy ; and that on the way he saw a great
white Face rise up from the snow and look lone-
somely about, so that he cried for fear and ran back.
Then his people all went out and looked ; but there
was only snow ; and then they knew that he had seen
the Yuki-Onna."
" And in these days, Kinjuro, do people ever see
her ? "
" Yes. Those who make the pilgrimage to Yabu-
mura, in the period called Dai-Kan, which is tiie
Time of the Greatest Cold,^ they sometimes see her."
" What is there at Yabumura, Kinjuro ? "
" There is the Yabu-jinja, which is an ancient and
1 In other parts of Japan I have heard the Yuki-Onna described aa
a very beautiful phantom who lures young men to lonesome places
for the purpose of sucking their blood.
2 In Izumo the Dai-Kan, or Period of Greatest Cold, falls in Feb
ruary.

OF GHOSTS AND GOBLINS. 639
famous temple of Yabu-no-Tenno-San, — the God of
Colds, Kaze-no-Kami. It is high upon a hill, nearly
nine ri from Matsue. And the great matsuri of that
temple is held upon the tenth and eleventh days of
the Second Month. And on those days strange
things may be seen. For one who gets a very bad
cold prays to the deity of Yabu-jinja to cure it, and
takes a vow to make a pilgrimage naked to the tem
ple at the time of the matsuri."
"Naked?" " Yes : the pilgrims wear only waraji, and a little
cloth round their loins. And a great many men and
women go naked through the snow to the temple,
though the snow is deep at that time. And each man
carries a bunch of gohei and a naked sword as gifts
to the temple ; and each woman carries a metal mir
ror. And at the temple, the priests receive them, per..
forming curious rites. For the priests then, accord
ing to ancient custom, attire themselves like sick
men, and lie down and groan, and drink potions mads
of herbs, prepared after the Chinese manner."
" But do not some of the pilgrims die of cold, Kin
juro ? "
"No: our Izumo peasants are hardy. Besides,
they run swiftly, so that they reach the temple all
warm. And before returning they put on thick
warm robes. But sometimes, upon the way, they see
the Yuki-Onna." n.
Each side of the street leading to the miya was
illuminated with a line of paper lanterns bearing holy
symbols ; and the immense court of the temple had
been transformed into a town of booths, and shops,
and temporary thea'^res. In spite of the cold, the

640 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
crowd was prodigious. There seemed to be all the
usual attractions of a matsuri, and a number of un
usual ones. Among the familiar lures, I missed at
this festival only the maiden wearing an obi of living
snakes; probably it had become too cold for the
snakes. There were several fortune-tellers and jug
glers ; there were acrobats and dancers ; there was a
man making pictures out of sand ; and there was
a menagerie containing an emu from Australia, and
a couple of enormous bats from the Loo Choo Is
lands, — bats trained to do several things. I did rev
erence to the gods, and bought some extraordinary
toys ; and then we went to look for the goblins.
They were domiciled in a large permanent structure,
rented to showmen on special occasions.
Gigantic characters signifying " IKI - NINGYO,"
painted upon the sign-board at the entrance, partly
hinted the nature of the exhibition. Iki-ningyo
(" living images ") somewhat correspond to our Occi
dental " wax figures " ; but the equally realistic Jap
anese creations are made of much cheaper material.
Having bought two wooden tickets for one sen each,
we entered, and passed behind a curtain to find our
selves in a long corridor lined with booths, or rather
matted compartments, about the size of small rooms.
Each space, decorated with scenery appropriate to the
subject, was occupied by a group of life-size figures.
The group nearest the entrance, representing two
men playing samisen and two geisha dancing, seemed
to me without excuse for being, until Kinjuro had
translated a little placard before it, announcing
that one of the figures was a living person. We
watched in vain for a wink or palpitation. Suddenly
one of the musicians laughed aloud, shook his head.

OF GHOSTS AND GOBLINS. 641
and began to play and sing. The deception was per
fect. The remaining groups, twenty-four in number,
were powerfully impressive in their peculiar way,
representing mostly famous popular traditions or
sacred myths. Feudal heroisms, the memory of
which stirs every Japanese heart ; legends of filial
piety ; Buddhist miracles, and stories of emperors
were among the subjects. Sometimes, however, the
realism was brutal, as in one scene representing the
body of a woman lying in a pool of blood, with
brains scattered by a sword stroke. Nor was this
unpleasantness altogether atoned for by her miracu
lous resuscitation in the adjoining compartment,
where she reappeared returning thanks in a Nichiren
temple, and converting her slaughterer, who hap
pened, by some extraordinary accident, to go there at
the same time.
At the termination of the corridor there hung a
black curtain, behind which screams could be heard.
And above the black curtain was a placard inscribed
with the promise of a gift to anybody able to trav
erse the mysteries beyond without being frightened.
" Master," said Kinjuro, "the goblins are inside."
We lifted the veil, and found ourselves in a sort of
lane between hedges, and behind the hedges we saw
tombs ; we were in a graveyard. There were real
weeds and trees, and sotoba and haka, and the effect
was quite natural. Moreover, as the roof was very
lofty, and kept invisible by a clever arrangement of
lights, all seemed darkness only ; and this gave one
a sense of being out under the night, a feeling accen
tuated by the chill of the air. And here and there
we could discern sinister shapes, mostly of super-

642 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
human stature, some seeming to wait in dim places,
others floating above the graves. Quite near us,
towering above the hedge on our right, was a Bud
dhist priest, with his back turned to us.
" A yamabushi, an exorciser ? " I queried of Kin
juro. " No," said Kinjuro ; " see how tall he is. I think
that must be a Tanuki-Bozu."
The Tanuki-Bozu is the priestly form assumed by
the goblin-badger (tanuki) for the purpose of decoy
ing belated travelers to destruction. We went on,
and looked up into his face. It was a nightmare, —
his face.
" In truth a Tanuki-Bozu," said Kinjuro. " What
does the Master honorably think concerning it? "
Instead of replying, I jumped back ; for the mon
strous thing had suddenly reached over the hedge
and clutched at me, with a moan. Then it fell back,
swaying and creaking. It was moved by invisible
strings. " I think, Kinjuro, that it is a nasty, horrid thing.
. . . But I shall not claim the present."
We laughed, and proceeded to consider a Three-
Eyed Friar (Mitsu-me-Nyudo). The Three -Eyed
Friar also watches for the unwary at night. His
face is soft and smiling as the face of a Buddha, but
he has a hideous eye in the summit of his shaven pate,
which can only be seen when seeing it does no good.
The Mitsu-me-Nyiido made a grab at Kinjuro, and
startled him almost as much as the Tanuki-Bozu had
startled me.
Then we looked at the Yama-Uba, — the "Moun
tain Nurse." She catches little children and nurses
them for a while, and then devours them. In her

OF GHOSTS AND GOBLINS. 643
face she has no mouth ; but she has a mouth in the
top of her head, under her hair. The Yama-Uba did
not clutch at us, because her hands were occupied
with a nice little boy, whom she was just going to
eat. The child had been made wonderfully pretty
to heighten the effect.
Then I saw the spectre of a woman hovering in
the air above a tomb at some distance, so that I felt
safer in observing it. It had no eyes ; its long hair
hung loose ; its white robe floated light as smoke. I
thought of a statement in a composition by one of
my pupils about ghosts : " Their greatest Peculiarity
is that They have no feet." Then I jumped again, for
the thing, quite soundlessly but very swiftly, made
through the air at me.
And the rest of our journey among the graves was
little more than a succession of like experiences ; but
it was made amusing by the screams of women, and
bursts of laughter from people who lingered only to
watch the effect upon others of what had scared
themselves. ni.
Forsaking the goblins, we visited a little open-air
theatre to see two girls dance. After they had
danced awhile, one girl produced a sword and cut off
the other girl's head, and put it upon a table, where
it opened its mouth and began to sing. All this was
very prettily done ; but my mind was still haunted
by the goblins. So I questioned Kinjuro : —
"Kinjuro, those goblins of which we the ningyo
have seen, — do folk believe in tbe reality thereof? "
" Not any more," answered Kinjuro, — " not at
least among the people of the city. Perhaps in the
eountry it may not be so. We believe in the Lord

644 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Buddha ; we believe in the ancient gods ; and there
be many who believe the dead sometimes return to
avenge a cruelty or to compel an act of justice. But
we do not now believe all that was believed in an
cient time, , . , Master," he added, as we reached
another queer exhibition, " it is only one sen to go
to hell, if the Master would like to go " —
" Very good, Kinjuro," I made reply. " Pay two
sen that we may both go to hell,"
rv.
And we passed behind a curtain into a big room
full of curious clicking and squeaking noises. These
noises were made by unseen wheels and pulleys mov
ing a multitude of ningyo upon a broad shelf about
breast-high, which surrounded the apartment upon
three sides. These ningyo were not iki-ningyo, but
very small images, — puppets. They represented all
things in the Under- World.
The first I saw was Sozu-Baba, the Old Woman of
the River of Ghosts, who takes away the garments
of Souls. The garments were hanging upon a tree
behind her. She was tall ; she rolled her green eyes
and gnashed her long teeth, while the shivering of
the little white souls before her was as a trembling
of butterflies. Farther on appeared Emma Dai-O,
great King of Hell, nodding grimly. At his right
hand, upon their tripod, the heads of Kaguhana and
Mirume, the Witnesses, whirled as upon a wheel.
At his left, a devil was busy sawing a Soul in two ;
and I noticed that he used his saw like a Japanese
carpenter, — pulling it towards him instead of push
ing it. And then various exhibitions of the tortures
of the damned. A liar bound to a post was having

OF GHOSTS AND GOBLINS. 645
his tongue pulled out by a devil, — slowly, with ar
tistic jerks ; it was already longer than the owner's
body. Another devil was pounding another Soul iu
a mortar so vigorously that the sound of the braying
could be heard above all the din of the machinery.
A little farther on was a man being eaten alive by
two serpents having women's faces ; one serpent was
white, the other blue. The white had been his wife,
the blue his concubine. All the tortures known to
mediseval Japan were being elsewhere deftly prac
ticed by swarras of devils. After reviewing them,
we visited the Sai-no-Kawara, and saw Jizo with a
child in his arms, and a circle of other children run
ning swiftly around him, to escape from demons who
brandished their clubs and ground their teeth.
Hell proved, however, to be extremely cold ; and
while meditating on the partial inappropriateness of
the atmosphere, it occurred to me that in the com
mon Buddhist picture-books of the Jigoku I had
never noticed any illustrations of torment by cold.
Indian Buddhism, indeed, teaches the existence of
cold hells. There is one, for instance, where people's
lips are frozen so that they can say only " Ah-ta-ta ! "
— wherefore that hell is called Atata. And there is
the hell where tongues are frozen, and where people
say only " Ah-baba ! " for which reason it is called
Ababa. And there is the Pundarika, or Great
White-Lotus hell, where the spectacle of the bones
laid bare by the cold is " like a blossoming of white
lotus-flowers." Kinjuro thinks there are cold hells
according to Japanese Buddhism ; but he is not sure.
And I am not sure that the idea of cold could be
made very terrible to the Japanese. They confess a
general liking for cold, and compose Chinese poems
about the loveliness of ice and snow.

646 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.

Out of hell, we found our way to a magic-lantern
show being given in a larger and even much colder
structure. A Japanese magic-lantern show is nearly
always interesting in more particulars than one, but
perhaps especially as evidencing the native genius
for adapting Western inventions to Eastern tastes.
A Japanese magic-lantern show is essentially dra
matic. It is a play of which the dialogue is uttered
by invisible personages, the actors and the scenery
being only luminous shadows. Wherefore it is pecul
iarly well suited to goblinries and weirdnesses of all
kinds; and plays in which ghosts figure are the favor
ite subjects. As the hall was bitterly cold, I waited
only long enough to see one performance, — of which
the following is an epitome : —
Scene I. — A beautiful peasant girl and her aged
mother, squatting together at home. Mother weeps
violently, gesticulates agonizingly. From her frantic
speech, broken by wild sobs, we learn that the girl
must be sent as a victim to the Kami-Sama of some
lonesome temple in the mountains. That god is a
bad god. Once a year he shoots an arrow into the
thatch of some farmer's house as a sign that he
wants a girl — to eat ! Unless the girl be sent to him
at once, he destroys the crops and the cows. Exit
mother, weeping and shrieking, and pulling out her
gray hair. Exit girl, with downcast head, and air of
sweet resignation.
Scene II. — Before a wayside inn ; cherry-trees
in blossom. Enter coolies carrying, like a palanquin.

OF GHOSTS AND GOBLINS. 647
a large box, in which the girl is supposed to be.
Deposit box ; enter to eat ; tell story to loquacious
landlord. Enter noble samurai, with two swords.
Asks about box. Hears the story of the coolies
repeated by loquacious landlord. Exhibits fierce
indignation ; vows that the Kami-Sama are good, —
do not eat girls. Declares that so-called Kami-Sama
to be a devil. Observes that devils must be killed.
Orders box opened. Sends girl home. Gets into
box himself, and commands coolies under pain of
death to bear him right quickly to that temple.
Scene III. — Enter coolies, approaching temple
through forest at night. Coolies afraid. Drop box
and run. Exeunt coolies. Box alone in the dark.
Enter veiled figure, all white. Figure moans un
pleasantly ; utters horrid cries. Box remains impas
sive. Figure removes veil, showing Its face, — a skull
with phosphoric eyes. \_Audience unanimously utter
the sound " Aaaaaa ! "] Figure displays Its hands, —
monstrous and apish, with claws. [Audience utter a
second "Aaaaaa!"] Figure approaches the box,
touches the box, opens the box! Up leaps noble
samurai. A wrestle ; drums sound the roll of battle.
Noble samurai practices successfully noble art of
jiujutsu. Casts demon down, tramples upon him
triumphantly, cuts off his head. Head suddenly
enlarges, grows to the size of a house, tries to bite
off head of samurai. Samurai slashes it with his
sword. Head rolls backward, spitting fire, and van
ishes. Finis. JExeunt omnes.

648 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
VI.
The vision of the samurai and the goblin re
minded Kinjuro of a queer tale, which he began to
tell me as soon as the shadow-play was over. Ghastly
stories are apt to fall flat after such an exhibition ;
but Kinjuro's stories are always peculiar enough to
justify the tehing under almost any circumstances.
Wherefore I listened eagerly, in spite of the cold : —
"A long time ago, in the days when Fox-women
and goblins haunted this land, there came to the
capital with her parents a samurai girl, so beautiful
that all men who saw her fell enamored of her.
And hundreds of young samurai desired and hoped
to marry her, and made their desire known to her
parents. For it has ever been the custom in Japan
that marriages should be arranged by parents. But
there are exceptions to all customs, and the case
of this maiden was such an exception. Her parents
declared that they intended to allow their daughter
to choose her own husband, and that all who wished
to win her would be free to woo her.
" Many men of high rank and of great wealth
were admitted to the house as suitors ; and each one
courted her as he best knew how, — with gifts, and
with fair words, and with poems written in her
honor, and with promises of eternal love. And to
each one she spoke sweetly and hopefully ; but she
made strange conditions. For every suitor she
obliged to bind himself by his word of honor as a
samurai to submit to a test of his love for her, and
never to divulge to living person what that test might
be. And to this all agreed.

OF GHOSTS AND GOBLINS. 649
" But even the most confident suitors suddenly
ceased their importunities after having been put to
the test; and all of them appeared to have been
greatly terrified by something. Indeed, not a few
even fled away from the city, and could not be per
suaded by their friends to return. But no one ever
so much as hinted why. Therefore it was whispered
by those who knew nothing of the mystery, that
the beautiful girl must be either a Fox-woman or a
goblin. "Now, when all the wooers of high rank had
abandoned their suit, there came a samurai who had
no wealth but his sword. He was a good man and
true, and of pleasing presence ; and the girl seemed
to like him. But she made him take the same pledge
which the others had taken ; and after he had taken it,
she told him to return upon a certain evening.
" When that evening came, he was received at the
house by none but the girl herself. With her own
hands she set before him the repast of hospitality,
and waited upon him, after which she told him that
she wished him to go out with ber at a late hour.
To this he consented gladly, and inquired to what
place she desired to go. But she replied nothing
to his question, and all at once became very silent,
and strange in her manner. And after a while she
retired from the apartment, leaving him alone.
" Only long after midnight she returned, robed all
in white, — like a Soul, — and, without uttering a
word, signed to him to follow her. Out of the house
they hastened while all the city slept. It was what
is called an oborozuki-yo — ' moon-clouded night.'
Always upon such a night, 'tis said, do ghosts wander.
She swiftly led the way ; and the dogs howled as she

650 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
flitted by ; and she passed beyond the confines of the
city to a place of knolls shadowed by enormous trees,
where an ancient cemetery was. Into it she glided,
— a white shadow into blackness. He followed, won
dering, his hand upon his sword. Then his eyes
became accustomed to the gloom ; and he saw.
" By a new-made grave she paused and signed to
him to wait. The tools of the grave-maker were still
lying there. Seizing one, she began to dig furiously,
with strange haste and strength. At last her spade
smote a coffin-lid and made it boom: another moment
and the fresh white wood of the kwan was bare.
She tore off the lid, revealing a corpse within, — the
corpse of a child. With goblin gestures she wrung
an arm from the body, wrenched it in twain, and,
squatting down, began to devour the upper half.
Then, flinging to her lover the other half, she cried
to him, ' Bat, if thou lovest me ! this is what I eat ! '
" Not even for a single instant did he hesitate. He
squatted down upon the other side of the grave, and
ate the half of the arm, and said, ' Kekko degozari
masu ! mo sukoshi chodai^ ^ For that arm was made
of the best kwashi ^ that Saikyo could produce.
" Then the girl sprang to her feet with a burst of
laughter, and cried : ' You only, of all my brave suit
ors, did not run away ! And I wanted a husband who
could not fear, I will marry you ; I can love you :
you are a man !'" VII.
" O Kinjuro," I said, as we took our way home,
** I have heard and I have read many Japanese stories
1 "It is excellent : I pray you give me a little more."
* Kwashi: Japanese confectionery.

OF GHOSTS AND GOBLINS. 651
of the returning of the dead. Likewise you yourself
have told me it is still believed the dead return, and
why. But according both to that which I have read
and that which you have told me, the coming back of
the dead is never a thing to be desired. They return
because of hate, or because of envy, or because they
cannot rest for sorrow. But of any who return for
that which is not evil — where is it written ? Surely
the common history of them is like that which we
have this night seen : much that is horrible and much
that is wicked and nothing of that which is beautiful
or true."
Now this I said that I might tempt him. And he
made even the answer I desired, by uttering the story
which is hereafter set down : —
" Long ago, in the days of a daimyo whose name
has been forgotten, there hved in this old city a
young man and a maid who loved each other very
much. Their names are not remembered, but their
story remains. From infancy they had been be
trothed; and as children they played together, for
their parents were neighbors And as they grew up,
they became always fonder of each other.
" Before the youth had become a man, his parents
died. But he was able to enter the service of a rich
samurai, an officer of high rank, who had been a
friend of his people. And his protector soon took
him into great favor, seeing him to be courteous, in
telligent, and apt at arms. So the young man hoped
to find himself shortly in a position that would make
it possible for him to marry his betrothed. But war
broke out in the north and east ; and he was sum
moned suddenly to follow his master to the field.

652 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
Before departing, however, he was able to see the
girl ; and they exchanged pledges in the presence of
her parents ; and he promised, should he remain alive,
to return within a year from that day to marry his
betrothed. " After his going much time passed without news
of him, for there was no post in that time as now ;
and the girl grieved so much for thinking of the
chances of war that she became all white and thin
and weak. Then at last she heard of him through a
messenger sent from the army to bear news to the
daimyo, and once again a letter was brought to her
by another messenger. And thereafter there came
no word. Long is a year to one who waits. And
the year passed, and he did not return.
" Other seasons passed, and still he did not come ;
and she thought hira dead ; and she sickened and lay
down, and died, and was buried. Then her old par
ents, who had no other child, grieved unspeakably,
and came to hate their home for the lonesomeness of
it. After a time they resolved to sell all they had,
and to set out upon a sengaji, — the great pilgrim
age to the Thousand Temples of the Nichiren-Shii,
which requires many years to perform. So they sold
their small house with all that it contained, except
ing the ancestral tablets, and the holy things which
must never be sold, and the ihai of their buried
daughter, which were placed, according to the cus
tom of those about to leave their native place, in the
family temple. Now the family was of the Nichiren-
Shu ; and their temple was Myokoji.
" They had been gone only four days when the
young man who had been betrothed to their daugh
ter returned to the city. He had attempted, with

OF GHOSTS AND GOBLINS. 653
the permission of his master, to fulfill his promise.
But the provinces upon his way were full of war,
and the roads and passes were guarded by troops,
and he had been long delayed by many difficulties.
And when he heard of his misfortune he sickened
for grief, and many days remained without know
ledge of anything, like one about to die.
" But when he began to recover his strength, all
the pain of memory came back again; and he re
gretted that he had not died. Then he resolved to
kill himself upon the grave of his betrothed ; and, as
soon as he was able to go out unobserved, he took
his sword and went to the cemetery where the girl
was buried : it is a lonesome place, — the cemetery
of Myokoji. There he found her tomb, and knelt
before it, and prayed and wept, and whispered to her
that which he was about to do. And suddenly he
heard her voice cry to him : ' Anata ! ' and felt her
hand upon his hand ; and he turned, and saw her
kneeling beside him, smiling, and beautiful as he
remembered her, only a little pale. Then his heart
leaped so that he could not speak for the wonder
and the doubt and the joy of that moment. But she
said : ' Do not doubt : it is really I. I am not dead.
It was all a mistake. I was buried, because my
people thought me dead, — buried too soon. And my
own parents thought me dead, and went upon a pil
grimage. Yet you see I am not dead, — not a ghost.
It is I : do not doubt it ! And I have seen your
heart, and that was worth all the waiting and the
pain. , . . But now let us go away at once to another
city, so that people may not know this thing and
trouble us ; for all still believe me dead.'
" And they went away, no one observing them.

654 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
And they went even to the village of Minobu, which
is in the province of Kai. For there is a famous
temple of the Nichiren-Shii in that place ; and the
girl had said : ' I know that in the course of their
pilgrimage my parents will surely visit Minobu : so
that if we dwell there, they will find us, and we
shall be all again together.' And when they came
to Minobu, she said: 'Let us open a littie shop,'
And they opened a little food-shop, on the wide way
leading to the holy place ; and there they sold cakes
for children, and toys, and food for pilgrims. For
two years they so lived and prospered; and there
was a son born to them.
" Now when the child was a year and two months
old, the parents of the wife came in the course of
their pilgrimage to Minobu ; and they stopped at the
little shop to buy food. And seeing their daughter's
betrothed, they cried out and wept and asked ques
tions. Then he made them enter, and bowed down
before them, and astonished them, saying : ' Truly as
I speak it, your daughter is not dead ; and she is my
wife; and we have a son. And she is even now
within the farther room, lying down with the child.
I pray you go in at once and gladden her, for her
heart longs for the moment of seeing you again.'
" So while he busied himself in making all things
ready for their comfort, they entered the inner room
very softly, — the mother first.
" They found the child asleep ; but the mothei
they did not find. She seemed to have gone out for
a little while only : her pillow was still warm. They
waited long for her : then they began to seek her-
But never was she seen again.
" And they understood only when they founds

OF GHOSTS AND GOBLINS. 655
beneath the coverings which had covered the mother
and child, something which they remembered hav
ing left years before in the temple of Myokoji, —
a little mortuary tablet, — the ihai of their buried
daughter." I suppose I must have looked thoughtful after this
tale ; for the old man said : —
" Perhaps the Master honorably thinks concerning
the story that it is foolish ? "
" Nay, Kinjuro, the story is in my heart."

XXVI
THE JAPANESE SMILE.
I.
Those whose ideas of the world and its wonders
have been formed chiefly by novels and romance still
indulge a vague belief that the East is more serious
than the West. Those who judge things from a
higher standpoint argue, on the contrary, that, under
present conditions, the West must be more serious
than the East ; and also that gravity, or even some
thing resembling its converse, may exist only as a
fashion. But the fact is that in this, as in all other
questions, no rule susceptible of application to either
half of humanity can be accurately framed. Scientifi
cally, we can do no more just now than study certain
contrasts in a general way, without hoping to explain
satisfactorily the highly complex causes which pro
duced them. One such contrast, of particular inter
est, is that afforded by the English and the Japanese.
It is a commonplace to say that the English are a
serious people, — not superficially serious, but serious
all the way down to the bed-rock of the race charac
ter. It is almost equally safe to say that tbe Japa
nese are not very serious, either above or below the
surface, even as compared with races much less seri
ous than our own. And in the same proportion, at
least, that they are less serious, they are more happy :
they still, perhaps, remain the happiest people in the
civilized world. We serious folk of the West cannot
call ourselves very happy. Indeed, we do not yet

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 657
fully know how serious we are ; and it would prob
ably frighten us to learn how much more serious we
are likely to become under the ever-swelling pressure
of industrial life. It is, possibly, by long sojourn
among a people less gravely disposed that we can
best learn our own temperament. This conviction
came to me very strongly when, after having lived
for nearly three years in the interior of Japan, I re
turned to English life for a few days at the open
port of Kobe. To hear English once more spoken
by Englishmen touched me more than I could have
believed possible ; but this feeling lasted only for a
moment. My object was to make some necessary
purchases. Accompanying me was a Japanese friend,
to whom all that foreign life was utterly new and
wonderful, and who asked me this curious question :
" Why is it that the foreigners never smile ? You
smile and bow when you speak to them ; but they
never smile. Why?"
The fact was, I had fallen altogether into Japanese
habits and ways, and had got out of touch with West
ern life ; and my companion's question first made me
aware that I had been acting somewhat curiously. It
also seemed to me a fair illustration of the difficulty
of mutual comprehension between the two races, —
each quite naturally, though quite erroneously, esti
mating the manners and motives of the other by its
own. If the Japanese are puzzled by English gravity,
the English are, to say the least, equally puzzled by
Japanese levity. The Japanese speak of the " angry
faces " of the foreigners. The foreigners speak with
strong contempt of the Japanese smile : they suspect
it to signify insincerity ; indeed, some declare it can
not possibly signify anything else. Only a few of

658 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
the more observant have recognized it as an enigma
worth studying. One of my Yokohama friends — a
thoroughly lovable man, who had passed more than
half his life in the open ports of the East — said to
me, just before my departure for the interior : " Since
you are going to study Japanese life, perhaps you
will be able to find out something for me. I can't un
derstand the Japanese smile. Let me tell you one
experience out of many. One day, as I was driving
down from the Bluff, I saw an empty kuruma coming
up on the wrong side of the curve. I could not have
pulled up in time if I had tried ; but I did n't try, be
cause I did n't think there was any particular danger,
I only yelled to the man in Japanese to get to the
other side of the road ; instead of which he simply
backed his kuruma against a wall on the lower side
of the curve, with the shafts outwards. At the rate
I was going, there was n't room even to swerve ; and
the next minute one of the shafts of that kuruma was
in my horse's shoulder. The man wasn't hurt at all.
When I saw the way my horse was bleeding, I quite
lost my temper, and struck the man over the head
with the butt of my whip. He looked right into my
face and smiled, and then bowed. I can see that
smile now. I felt as if I had been knocked down.
The smile utterly nonplused me, — killed all my
anger instantly. Mind you, it was a polite smile.
But what did it mean ? Why the devil did the man
smile ? I can't understand it."
Neither, at that time, could I ; but the meaning of
much more mysterious smiles has since been revealed
to me. A Japanese can smile in the teeth of death,
and usually does. But he then smiles for the same
reason that he smiles at other times. There is nei-

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 659
ther defiance nor hypocrisy in the smile ; nor is it to
be confounded with that smile of sickly resignation
which we are apt to associate with weakness of
character. It is an elaborate and long-cultivated eti
quette. It is also a silent language. But any effort
to interpret it according to Western notions of phy
siognomical expression would be just about as success
ful as an attempt to interpret Chinese ideographs by
their real or fancied resemblance to shapes of familiar
things. First impressions, being largely instinctive, are
scientifically recognized as partly trustworthy ; and
the very first impression produced by the Japanese
smile is not far from the truth. The stranger cannot
fail to notice the generally happy and smiling charac
ter of the native faces; and this first impression is,
in most cases, wonderfully pleasant. The Japanese
smile at first charms. It is only at a later day, when
one has observed the same smile under extraordinary
circumstances, — in moments of pain, shame, disap
pointment, — that one becomes suspicious of it. Its
apparent inopportuneness may even, on certain oc
casions, cause violent anger. Indeed, many of the
difficulties between foreign residents and their native
servants have been due to the smile. Any man who
believes in the British tradition that a good servant
must be solemn is not likely to endure with patience
the smile of his " boy." At present, however, this
particular phase of Western eccentricity is becoming
more fully recognized by the Japanese ; they are
beginning to learn that the average English-speak
ing foreigner hates smiling, and is apt to consider it
insulting ; wherefore Japanese employees at the open
ports have generally ceased to smile, and have as
sumed an air of sullenness.

660 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
At this moment there comes to me the recollection
of a queer story told by a lady of Yokohama about
one of her Japanese servants. " My Japanese nurse
came to me the other day, smiling as if something
very pleasant had happened, and said that her hus
band was dead, and that she wanted permission to
attend his funeral. I told her she could go. It seems
they burned the man's body. Well, in the evening
she returned, and showed me a vase containing some
ashes of bones (I saw a tooth among them) ; and
she said : ' That is my husband.' And she actually
laughed as she said it ! Did you ever hear of such
disgusting creatures ? "
It would have been quite impossible to convince
the narrator of this incident that the demeanor of her
servant, instead of being heartless, might have been
heroic, and capable of a very touching interpretation.
Even one not a Philistine might be deceived in such
a case by appearances. But quite a number of the
foreign residents of the open ports are pure Philis
tines, and never try to look below the surface of the
life around tbem, except as hostile critics. My Yoko
hama friend who told me the story about the kuru
maya was quite differently disposed : he recognized
the error of judging by appearances. II.
Miscomprehension of the Japanese smile has more
than once led to extremely unpleasant results, as hap
pened in the case of T  , a Yokohama merchant of
former days. T  had employed in some capacity
(I think partly as a teacher of Japanese) a nice old
samurai, who wore, according to the fashion of the
era, a queue and two swords. The English and the

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 661
Japanese do not understand each other very well
now ; but at the period in question they understood
each other much less. The Japanese servants at first
acted in foreign employ precisely as they would have
acted in the service of distinguished Japanese ; ^ and
this innocent mistake provoked a good deal of abuse
and cruelty. Finally the discovery was made tbat
to treat Japanese like West Indian negroes might
be very dangerous. A certain number of foreigners
were killed, with good moral consequences.
But I am digressing. T  was rather pleased
with his old samurai, though quite unable to under
stand his Oriental politeness, his prostrations, or the
meaning of the small gifts which he presented occa
sionally, with an exquisite courtesy entirely wasted
upon T  . One day he came to ask a favor. (I
think it was the eve of the Japanese New Year, when
everybody needs money, for reasons not here to be
dwelt upon.) The favor was that T  would lend
him a little money upon one of his swords, the long
1 The reader will find it well worth his while to consult the chap
ter entitled " Domestic Service," in Miss Bacon's Japanese Girls and
Women, for an interesting and just presentation of the practical side
of the subject, as relating to servants of both sexes. The poetical
side, however, is not treated of, — perhaps because intimately con
nected with religious beliefs which one writing from the Christian
standpoint could not be expected to consider sympathetically. Domes
tic service in ancient Japan was both transfigured and regulated by
religion ; and the force of the religious sentiment concerning it may
be divined from the Buddhist saying, still current: —
Oya-ko wa is-se,
Fufu wa ni-se,
Skuju wa san-se.
The relation of parent and child endures for the space of one life
only ; that of husband and wife for the space of two lives ; but the
relation between master and servant continues for the period of three
existences.

662 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
one. It was a very beautiful weapon, and the mer
chant saw that it was also very valuable, and lent
the money without hesitation. Some weeks later the
old man was able to redeem his sword.
What caused the beginning of the subsequent
unpleasantness nobody now remembers. Perhaps
T  's nerves got out of order. At all events, one
day he became very angry with the old man, who
submitted to the expression of his wrath with bows
and smiles. This made him stiH more angry, and he
used some extremely bad language ; but the old man
still bowed and smiled ; wherefore he was ordered to
leave the house. But the old man continued to smile,
at which T  , losing all self-control, struck him.
And then T  suddenly became afraid, for the long
sword instantly leaped from its sheath, and swirled
above him; and the old man ceased to seem old.
Now, in the grasp of any one who knows how to use
it, the razor-edged blade of a Japanese sword wielded
with both hands can take a head off with extreme
facility. But, to T  's astonishment, the old samu
rai, almost in the same moment, returned the blade
to its sheath with the skill of a practiced swordsman,
turned upon his heel, and withdrew.
Then T  wondered, and sat down to think.
He began to remember some nice things about the
old man, — the many kindnesses unasked and unpaid,
the curious little gifts, the impeccable honesty. T 
began to feel ashamed. He tried to console himself
with the thought : " Well, it was his own fault ; he had
no right to laugh at me when he knew I was angry,"
Indeed, T  even resolved to make amends when
an opportunity should offer.
But no opportunity ever came, because on the same

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 663
evening the old man performed hara-kiri, after the
manner of a samurai. He left a very beautifully
written letter explaining his reasons. For a samurai
to receive an unjust blow without avenging it was a
shame not to be borne. He had received such a blow.
Under any other circumstances he might have avenged
it. But the circumstances were, in this instance,
of a very peculiar kind. His code of honor forbade
him to use his sword upon the man to whom he had
pledged it once for money, in an hour of need. And
being thus unable to use his sword, there remained
for bim only the alternative of an honorable suicide.
In order to render this story less disagreeable, the
reader may suppose that T  was really very sorry,
and behaved generously to the family of the old
man. What he must not suppose is that T  was
ever able to imagine why the old man had smiled the
smile which led to the outrage and the tragedy,
m.
To comprehend the Japanese smile, one must be
able to enter a little into the ancient, natural, and
popular life of Japan, From the modernized upper
classes nothing is to be learned. The deeper signifi
cation of race differences is being daily more and
more illustrated in the effects of the higher education.
Instead of creating any community of feeling, it ap
pears only to widen the distance between the Occi
dental and the Oriental. Some foreign observers
have declared that it does this by enormously devel
oping certain latent peculiarities, — among others an
inherent materialism little perceptible among the
common people. This explanation is one I cannot
quite agree with ; but it is at least undeniable that,

664 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
the more highly he is cultivated, according to West
ern methods, the farther is the Japanese psychologi
cally removed from us. Under the new education,
his character seems to crystallize into something of
singular hardness, and to Western observation, at
least, of singular opacity. Emotionally, the Japa
nese child appears incomparably closer to us than
the Japanese mathematician, the peasant than the
statesman. Between the most elevated class of thor
oughly modernized Japanese and the Western thinker
anything akin to intellectual sympathy is non-exist
ent : it is replaced on the native side by a cold and
faultless politeness. Those influences which in other
lands appear most potent to develop the higher emo
tions seem here to have the extraordinary effect of
suppressing them. We are accustomed abroad to
associate emotioual sensibility with intellectual expan
sion : it would be a grievous error to apply this rule
in Japan. Even the foreign teacher in an ordinary
school can feel, year by year, his pupils drifting far
ther away from him, as they pass from class to class ;
in various higher educational institutions, the separa
tion widens yet more rapidly, so tbat, prior to gradu
ation, students may become to their professor little
more than casual acquaintances. The enigma is per
haps, to some extent, a physiological one, requiring
scientific explanation ; but its solution must first be
sought in ancestral habits of life and of imagination.
It can be fully discussed only when its natural causes
are understood ; and these, we may be sure, are not
simple. By some observers it is asserted that because
the higher education in Japan has not yet had the
effect of stimulating the higher emotions to the Occi
dental pitch, its developing power cannot have been

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 665
exerted uniformly and wisely, but in special direc
tions only, at the cost of character. Yet this theory
involves the unwarrantable assumption that character
can be created by education ; and it ignores the fact
that the best results are obtained by affording oppor
tunity for the exercise of preexisting inclination rather
than by any system of teaching.
The causes of the phenomenon must be looked
for in the race character ; and whatever the higher
education may accomplish in the remote future, it
can scarcely be expected to transform nature. But
does it at present atrophy certain finer tendencies ?
I think that it unavoidably does, for the simple rea
son that, under existing conditions, the raoral and
mental powers are overtasked by its requirements.
All that wonderful national spirit of duty, of pa
tience, of self-sacrifice, anciently directed to social,
moral, or religious idealism, must, under the disci
pline of the higher training, be concentrated upon an
end which not only demands, but exhausts its fullest
exercise. For that end, to be accomplished at all,
must be accomplished in the face of difficulties that
the Western student rarely encounters, and could
scarcely be made even to understand. All those
moral qualities which made the old Japanese charac
ter admirable are certainly the same which make the
modern Japanese student the most indefatigable, the
most docile, the most ambitious in the world. But
they are also qualities which urge him to efforts in
excess of his natural powers, with the frequent result
of mental and moral enervation. The nation has en
tered upon a period of intellectual overstrain. Con
sciously or unconsciously, in obedience to sudden
necessity, Japan has undertaken nothing less than

666 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
the tremendous task of forcing mental expansion up
to the highest existing standard ; and this means
forcing the development of the nervous system. For
the desired intellectual change, to be accomplished
within a few generations, must involve a physiologi
cal change never to be effected without terrible cost.
In other words, Japan has attempted too much ; yet
under the circumstances she could not have attempted
less. Happily, even among the poorest of her poor
the educational policy of the government is seconded
with an astonishing zeal ; the entire nation has
plunged into study with a fervor of which it is utterly
impossible to convey any adequate conception in this
little essay. Yet I may cite a touching example.
Immediately after the frightful earthquake of 1891,
the children of the ruined cities of Gifu and Aichi,
crouching among the ashes of their homes, cold and
hungry and shelterless, surrounded by horror and
misery unspeakable, still continued their small studies,
using tiles of their own burnt dwellings in lieu of
slates, and bits of lime for chalk, even while the earth
still trembled beneath them.^ What future miracles
may justly be expected from the amazing power of
purpose such a fact reveals !
But it is true that as yet the results of the higher
training have not been altogether happy. Among
the Japanese of the old regime one encounters a
courtesy, an unselfishness, a grace of pure goodness,
impossible to overpraise. Among the modernized of
the new generation these have almost disappeared.
One meets a class of young men who ridicule the
old times and the old ways without having been
1 The shocks continued, though with lessening frequency and vio.
lence, for more than six mouths after the cataclysm.

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 667
able to elevate themselves above the vulgarism of
imitation and the commonplaces of shallow skepti
cism. What has become of the noble and charming
qualities they must have inherited from their fathers ?
Is it not possible that the best of those qualities
have been transmuted into mere effort, — an effort so
excessive as to have exhausted character, leaving it
without weight or balance ?
It is to the still fluid, mobile, natural existence of
the common people that one must look for the mean
ing of some apparent differences in the race feeling
and emotional expression of the West and the Far
East. With those gentle, kindly, sweet-hearted folk,
who smile at life, love, and death alike, it is possible
to enjoy community of feeling in simple, natural
things; and by familiarity and sympathy we can
learn why they smile.
The Japanese child is born with this happy ten
dency, which is fostered through all the period of
home education. But it is cultivated with the same
exquisiteness that is shown in the cultivation of the
natural tendencies of a garden plant. The smile is
taught like the bow ; like the prostration ; like that
little sibilant sucking-in of the breath which follows,
as a token of pleasure, the salutation to a superior ;
like all the elaborate and beautiful etiquette of the
old courtesy. Laughter is not encouraged, for obvi
ous reasons. But the smile is to be used upon all
pleasant occasions, when speaking to a superior or
to an equal, and even upon occasions which are not
pleasant; it is a part of deportment. The most
agreeable face is the smiling face ; and to present
always the most agreeable face possible to parents.

668 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
relatives, teachers, friends, well-wishers, is a rule of
life. And furthermore, it is a rule of hfe to turn
constantly to the outer world a mien of happiness, to
convey to others as far as possible a pleasant impres
sion. Even though the heart is breaking, it is a
social duty to smile bravely. On the other hand, to
look serious or unhappy is rude, because this may
cause anxiety or pain to those who love us ; it is
likewise foolish, since it may excite unkindly curi
osity on the part of those who love us not. Cul
tivated from childhood as a duty, the smile soon
becomes instinctive. In the mind of the poorest
peasant lives the conviction that to exhibit the ex
pression of one's personal sorrow or pain or anger is
rarely useful, and always unkind. Hence, although
natural grief must have, in Japan as elsewhere, its
natural issue, an uncontrollable burst of tears in the
presence of superiors or guests is an impoliteness ;
and the first words of even the most unlettered coun
trywoman, after the nerves give way in such a cir
cumstance, are invariably : " Pardon my selfishness
in that I have been so rude ! " The reasons for the
smile, be it also observed, are not only moral ; they
are to some extent sesthetic ; they partly represent
tke same idea which regulated the expression of suf
fering in Greek art. But they are much more moral
taan aesthetic, as we shall presently observe.
From this primary etiquette of the smile there has
'ieen developed a secondary etiquette, the observance
of which has frequently impelled foreigners to form
the most cruel misjudgments as to Japanese sensibil
ity. It is the native custom that whenever a painful
<vr shocking fact must be told, the announcement
should be made, by the sufferer, with a smile.^ The
1 Of course the converse is the rule in condoling with the suffered

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 669
graver the subject, the more accentuated the smile ;
and when the matter is very unpleasant to the person
speaking of it, the smile often changes to a low, soft
laugh. However bitterly the mother who has lost
her first-born may have wept at the funeral, it is
probable that, if in your service, she will tell of her
bereavement with a smile: like the Preacher, she
holds that there is a time to weep and a time to
laugh. It was long before I myself could under
stand how it was possible for those whom I believed
to have loved a person recently dead to announce
to me that death with a laugh. Yet the laugh was
politeness carried to the utmost point of self-abnega
tion. It signified : " This you might honorably think
to be an unhappy event ; pray do not suffer Your
Superiority to feel concern about so inferior a matter,
and pardon the necessity which causes us to outrage
politeness by speaking about such an affair at all."
The key to the mystery of the most unaccounta
ble smiles is Japanese politeness. The servant sen
tenced to dismissal for a fault prostrates himself, and
asks for pardon with a smile. That smile indicates
the very reverse of callousness or insolence s " Be
assured that I am satisfied with the great justice of
your honorable sentence, and that I am now aware
of the gravity of my fault. Yet my sorrow and my
necessity have caused me to indulge the unreasona
ble hope that I may be forgiven for my great rude
ness in asking pardon." The youth or girl beyond
the age of childish tears, when punished for some
error, receives the punishment with a smile whioh
means : " No evil feeling arises in my heart ; much
worse than this my fault has deserved." And the
kurumaya cut by the whip of my Yokohama friend

670 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
smiled for a similar reason, as my friend must have
intuitively felt, since the smile at once disarmed him :
" I was very wrong, and you are right to be angry :
I deserve to be struck, and therefore feel no resent
ment." But it should be understood that the poorest and
humblest Japanese is rarely submissive under injus
tice. His apparent docility is due chiefly to his
moral sense. The foreigner who strikes a native for
sport may have reason to find that he has made a
serious mistake. The Japanese are not to be trifled
with ; and brutal attempts to trifle with them have
cost several worthless lives.
Even after the foregoing explanations, the incident
of the Japanese nurse may still seem incomprehen
sible ; but this, I feel quite sure, is because the nar
rator either suppressed or overlooked certain facts in
the case. In the first half of the story, all is per
fectly clear. When announcing her husband's death,
the young servant smiled, in accordance with the
native formality already referred to. What is quite
incredible is that, of her own accord, she should
have invited the attention of her mistress to the
contents of the vase, or funeral urn. If she knew
enough of Japanese politeness to smile in announ
cing her husband's death, she must certainly have
known enough to prevent her from perpetrating such
an error. She could have shown the vase and its
contents only in obedience to some real or fancied
command; and when so doing, it is more than possi
ble she may have uttered the low, soft laugh which
accompanies either the unavoidable performance of a
painful duty, or the enforced utterance of a painful
statement. My own opinion is that she was obliged

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 671
to gratify a wanton curiosity. Her smile cr laugh
would then have signified : " Do not suffer your hon
orable feelings to be shocked upon my unworthy
account ; it is indeed very rude of me, even at your
honorable request, to mention so contemptible a
thing as my sorrow." rv.
But the Japanese smile must not be imagined as
a kind of sourire figS, worn perpetually as a soul-
mask. Like other matters of deportment, it is regu
lated by an etiquette which varies in different classes
of society. As a rule, the old samurai were not
given to smiling upon all occasions ; they reserved
their amiability for superiors and intimates, and
would seem to have maintained toward inferiors an
austere reserve. The dignity of the Shinto priest
hood has become proverbial ; and for centuries the
gravity of the Confucian code was mirrored in the
decorum of magistrates and officials. From ancient
times the nobility affected a still loftier reserve ; and
the solemnity of rank deepened through all the hie
rarchies up to that awful state surrounding the Ten-
shi-Sama, upon whose face no living man might look.
But in private life the demeanor of the highest had
its amiable relaxation ; and even to-day, with some
hopelessly modernized exceptions, the noble, the
judge, the high priest, the august minister, the mili
tary officer, will resume at horae, in the intervals of
duty, the charming habits of the antique courtesy.
The smile which illuminates conversation is in
itself but a small detail of that courtesy; but the
sentiment which it symbolizes certainly comprises
the larger part. If you happen to have a cultivated
Japanese friend who has remained in all things truly

672 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILLAR JAPAN.
Japanese, whose character has remained untouched
by the new egotism and by foreign influences, you
will probably be able to study in him the particular
social traits of the whole people, — traits in his case
exquisitely accentuated and polished. You will ob
serve that, as a rule, he never speaks of himself,
and that, in reply to searching personal questions, he
will answer as vaguely and briefly as possible, with a
polite bow of thanks. But, on the other hand, he will
ask many questions about yourself : your opinions,
your ideas, even trifling details of your daily life,
appear to have deep interest for him ; and you will
probably have occasion to note tbat he never forgets
anything which he has learned concerning you. Yet
there are certain rigid limits to his kindly curiosity,
and perhaps even to his observation : he will never
refer to any disagreeable or painful matter, and he will
seem to remain blind to eccentricities or small weak
nesses, if you have any. To your face he will never
praise you ; but he will never laugh at you nor criti
cise you. Indeed, you will find that he never criti
cises persons, but only actions in their results. As
a private adviser, he wiU not even directly criticise a
plan of which he disapproves, but is apt to suggest
a new one in some such guarded language as : " Per
haps it might be more to your immediate interest to
do thus and so." When obliged to speak of others,
he will refer to them in a curious indirect fashion, by
citing and combining a number of incidents suffi
ciently characteristic to form a picture. But in
that event the incidents narrated will almost cer
tainly be of a nature to awaken interest, and to create
a favorable impression. This indirect way of con
veying information is essentially Confucian. " Even

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 673
^hen you have no doubts," says the Li-Ki, " do not
let what you say appear as your own view." And it is
quite probable that you will notice many other traits
in your friend requiring some knowledge of the Chi
nese classics to understand. But no such knowledge
is necessary to convince you of his exquisite consider
ation for others, and his studied suppression of self.
Among no other civilized people is the secret of happy
living so thoroughly comprehended as among the
Japanese; by no other race is the truth so widely
understood that our pleasure in life must depend upon
the happiness of those about us, and consequently
jpon the cultivation in ourselves of unselfishness and
i)f patience. For which reason, in Japanese society,
sarcasm, irony, cruel wit, are not indulged. I might
almost say that they have no existence in refined life,
A personal failing is not made the subject of ridicule
or reproach ; an eccentricity is not commented upon ;
an involuntary mistake excites no laughter.
Stiffened somewhat by the Chinese conservatism
of the old conditions, it is true that this ethical sys
tem was maintained to the extreme of giving fixity
to ideas, and at the cost of individuality. And yet,
if regulated by a broader comprehension of social re
quirements, if expanded by scientific understanding
of the freedom essential to intellectual evolution, the
very same moral policy is that through which the
highest and happiest results may be obtained. But
as actually practiced it was not favorable to origi
nality ; it rather tended to enforce that amiable medi
ocrity of opinion and imagination which still pre
vails. Wherefore a foreign dweller in the interior
cannot but long sometimes for the sharp, erratic
inequalities of Western life, with its larger joys and

674 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
pains and its more comprehensive sympathies. But
sometimes only, for the intellectual loss is really
more than compensated by the social charm ; and
there can remain no doubt in the mind of one who
even partly understands the Japanese, that they are
still the best people in the world to hve among.
V.
As I pen these lines, there returns to me the
vision of a Kyoto night. While passing through
some wonderfully thronged and illuminated street, of
which I cannot remember the name, I had turned
aside to look at a statue of Jizo, before the entrance
of a very small temple. The figure was that of a
kozo, an acolyte, — a beautiful boy ; and its smile
was a bit of divine realism. As I stood gazing, a
young lad, perhaps ten years old, ran up beside me,
joined his little hands before the image, bowed his
head, and prayed for a moment in silence. He had
but just left some comrades, and the joy and glow of
play were still upon his face; and his unconscious
smile was so strangely like the smile of the child of
stone that the boy seemed the twin brother of the
god. And then I thought : " The smile of bronze or
stone is not a copy only ; but that which the Bud
dhist sculptor symbolizes thereby must be the expla
nation of the smile of the race."
That was long ago ; but the idea which then sug
gested itself still seems to me true. However for
eign to Japanese soil the origin of Buddhist art, yet
the smile of the people signifies the same concep
tion as the smile of the Bosatsu, — the happiness
that is born of self-control and self-suppression. " If
a man conquer in battle a thousand times a thousand,

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 675
and another conquer himself, he who conquers him
self is the greatest of conquerors." " Not even a
god can change into defeat the victory of the man
who has vanquished himself." ^ Such Buddhist texts
as these — and they are raany — assuredly express,
though they cannot be assumed to have created, those
moral tendencies which form the highest charm of
the Japanese character. And the whole moral ideal
ism of the race seems to me to have been imaged in
that marvelous Buddha of Kamakura, whose coun
tenance, " calm like a deep, still water," ^ expresses,
as perhaps no other work of human hands can have
expressed, the eternal truth : " There is no higher
happiness than rest." ^ It is toward that infinite
calm that the aspirations of the Orient have been
turned ; and the ideal of the Supreme Self-Conquest
it has made its own. Even now, though agitated at
its surface by those new influences which must sooner
or later move it even to its uttermost depths, the
Japanese mind retains, as compared with the thought
of the West, a wonderful placidity. It dwells but
little, if at all, upon those ultimate abstract questions
about which we most concern ourselves. Neither
does it comprehend our interest in them as we de
sire to be comprehended. " That you should not be
indifferent to religious speculations," a Japanese
scholar once observed to me, " is quite natural ; but
it is equally natural that we should never trouble
ourselves about them. The philosophy of Buddhism
has a profundity far exceeding that of your Western
theology, and we have studied it. We have sounded
the depths of speculation only to find that there are
depths unfathomable below those depths ; we have
1 Dhammapada. ^ Dammikkasutta. * Dhammapada.

676 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
voyaged to the farthest limit that thought may sail,
only to find that the horizon forever recedes. And
you, you have remained for many thousand years as
children playing in a stream, but ignorant of the sea.
Only now you have reached its shore by another path
than ours, and the vastness is for you a new wonder ;
and you would sail to Nowhere because you have
seen the infinite over the sands of life."
Will Japan be able to assimilate Western civiliza
tion, as she did Chinese more than ten centuries ago,
and nevertheless preserve her own peculiar modes of
thought and feeling ? One striking fact is hopeful :
that the Japanese admiration for Western material
superiority is by no means extended to Western
morals. Oriental thinkers do not commit the serious
blunder of confounding mechanical with ethical pro
gress, nor have they failed to perceive the moral
weaknesses of our boasted civilization. One Japa
nese writer has expressed his judgment of things
Occidental after a fashion that deserves to be noticed
by a larger circle of readers than that for which it
was originally written : —
" Order or disorder in a nation does not depend
npon something that falls from the sky or rises from
the earth. It is determined by the disposition of the
people. The pivot on which the public disposition
turns towards order or disorder is the point where
public and private motives separate. If the people
be influenced chiefly by public considerations, order is
assured ; if by private, disorder is inevitable. Public
considerations are those that prompt the proper ob
servance of duties; their prevalence signifies peace
and prosperity in the case alike of families, commu-

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 677
nities, and nations. Private considerations are those
suggested by selfish motives : when they prevail, dis
turbance and disorder are unavoidable. As members
of a family, our duty is to look after the welfare of
that family ; as units of a nation, our duty is to work
for the good of the nation. To regard our family
affairs with all the interest due to our family, and
our national affairs with all the interest due to our
nation, — this is to fitly discharge our duty, and to
be guided by public considerations. On the other
hand, to regard the affairs of the nation as if they
were our own family affairs, — this is to be influenced
by private motives and to stray from the path of
duty. . . .
" Selfishness is born in every man ; to indulge it
freely is to become a beast. Therefore it is that
sages preach the principles of duty and propriety,
justice and morality, providing restraints for private
aims and encouragements for public spirit. . . ,
What we know of Western civilization is that it
struggled on through long centuries in a confused
condition, and finally attained a state of sorae order;
but that even this order, not being based upon such
principles as those of the natural and immutable
distinctions between sovereign and subject, parent
and child, with all their corresponding rights and
duties, is liable to constant change, according to the
growth of human ambitions and human aims. Ad
mirably suited to persons whose actions are con
trolled by selfish ambition, the adoption of this sys
tem in Japan is naturally sought by a certain class
of politicians. F'rom a superficial point of view, the
Occidental form of society is very attractive, inas
much as, being the outcome of a free development of

678 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
human desires from ancient times, it represents the
very extreme of luxury and extravagance. Briefly
speaking, the state of things obtaining in the West
is based upon the free play of human selfishness,
and can only be reached by giving full sway to that
quality. Social disturbances are little heeded in the
Occident; yet they are at once the evidences and
the factors of the present evil state of affairs. . . .
Do Japanese enamored of Western ways propose to
have their nation's history written in similar terms ?
Do they seriously contemplate turning their country
into a new field for experiments in Western civiliza
tion ? . . .
" In the Orient, from ancient times, national gov
ernment has been based on benevolence, and directed
to securing the welfare and happiness of the people.
No political creed has ever held that intellectual
strength should be cultivated for the purpose of ex
ploiting inferiority and ignorance. . . . The inhab
itants of this empire live, for the most part, by
manual labor. Let thera be never so industrious,
they hardly earn enough to supply their daily wants.
They earn on the average about twenty sen daily.
There is no question with thera of aspiring to wear
fine clothes or to inhabit handsome houses. Neither
can they hope to reach positions of fame and honor.
What offense have these poor people committed that
they, too, should not share the benefits of Western
civilization ? . , . By some, indeed, their condition
is explained on the hypothesis that their desires do
not prompt them to better themselves. There is no
truth in such a supposition. They have desires, but
nature has limited their capacity to satisfy them;
their duty as men limits it, and the amount of labor

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 679
physically possible to a human being limits it. They
achieve as rauch as their opportunities permit. The
best and finest products of their labor they reserve
for the wealthy ; the worst and roughest they keep
for their own use. Yet there is nothing in human
society that does not owe its existence to labor.
Now, to satisfy the desires of one luxurious man,
the toil of a thousand is needed. Surely it is mon
strous that those who owe to labor the pleasures
suggested by their civilization should forget what
they owe to the laborer, and treat him as if he were
not a fellow-being. But civilization, according to the
interpretation of the Occident, serves only to satisfy
men of large desires. It is of no benefit to the
masses, but is simply a system under which ambi
tions compete to accomplish their aims. . . . That
the Occidental system is gravely disturbing to the
order and peace of a country is seen by men who have
eyes, and heard by men who have ears. The future
of Japan under such a system fills us with anxiety.
A system based on the principle that ethics and re
ligion are made to serve human ambition naturally
accords with the wishes of selfish individuals ; and
such theories as those embodied in the modern for
mula of liberty and equality annihilate the estab
lished relations of society, and outrage decorum and
propriety. . . . Absolute equality and absolute lib
erty being unattainable, the limits prescribed by right
and duty are supposed to be set. But as each person
seeks to have as much right and to be burdened
with as little duty as possible, the results are endless
disputes and legal contentions. The principles of
liberty and equality may succeed in changing the
organization of nations, in overthrowing the lawful
VOL. II.

680 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILLAR JAPAN.
distinctions of social rank, in reducing all men to one
nominal level; but they can never accomplish the
equal distribution of wealth and property. Consider
America. ... It is plain that if the mutual rights
of men and their status are made to depend on de
grees of wealth, the majority of the people, being
without wealth, must fail to establish their rights ;
whereas the minority who are wealthy will assert
their rights, and, under society's sanction, will exact
oppressive duties from the poor, neglecting the dic
tates of humanity and benevolence. The adoption
of these principles of liberty and equality in Japan
would vitiate the good and peaceful customs of our
country, render the general disposition of the people
harsh and unfeeling, and prove finally a source of
calamity to the masses. . . .
" Though at first sight Occidental civilization pre
sents an attractive appearance, adapted as it is to
the gratification of selfish desires, yet, since its basis
is the hypothesis that men's wishes constitute natural
laws, it must ultimately end in disappointment and
demoralization. . . . Occidental nations have become
what they are after passing through conflicts and
vicissitudes of the most serious kind; and it is their
fate to continue the struggle. Just now their motive
elements are in partial equilibrium, and tbeir social
condition is more or less ordered. But if this slight
equilibrium happens to be disturbed, they will be
thrown once more into confusion and change, until,
after a period of renewed struggle and suffering,
temporary stability is once more attained. The poor
and powerless of the present may become the wealthy
and strong of the future, and vice versa. Perpetual
disturbance is their doom. Peaceful equality can

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 681
never be attained until built up among the ruins of
annihilated Western states and the ashes of extinct
Western peoples." ^
Surely, with perceptions like these, Japan may
hope to avert some of the social perils which menace
her. Yet it appears inevitable that her approaching
transformation must be coincident with a moral de
cline. Forced into the vast industrial competition
of nations whose civilizations were never based on
altruism, she must eventually develop those qualities
of which the comparative absence made all the won
derful charm of her life. The national character
must continue to harden, as it has begun to harden
already. But it should never be forgotten that old
Japan was quite as much in advance of the nine
teenth century morally as she was behind it materi
ally. She had made morality instinctive, after hav
ing made it rational. She had realized, though
within restricted limits, several among those social
conditions which our ablest thinkers regard as the
happiest and the highest. Throughout all the grades
of her complex society she had cultivated both the
1 These extracts from a translation in the Japan Daily Mail, No
vember 19, 20, 1890, of Viscount Torio's famous conservative essay
do not give a fair idea of the force and logic of the whole. The
essay is too long to quote entire ; and any extracts from the Mail's
admirable translation suffer by their isolation from the singular
chains of ethical, religious, and philosophical reasoning wbich bind
the various parts of the composition together. The essay was fur
thermore remarkable as the productioa of a native scholar, totally
uninfluenced hy Western thought. He correctly predicted those social
and political disturbances which have occurred iu Japan since the
opening of the new parliament. Viscount Torio is also well known
as a master of Buddhist philosophy. He holds a high rank in the
Japanese army.

682 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
comprehension and the practice of public and private
duties after a manner for which it were vain to seek
any Western parallel. Even her moral weakness
was the result of an excess of that which all civilized
religions have united in proclaiming virtue, — the self-
sacrifice of the individual for the sake of the family,
of the community, and of the nation. It was the
weakness indicated by Percival Lowell in his " Soul
of the Far East," a book of which the consummate
genius cannot be justly estimated without some per
sonal knowledge of the Far East.^ The progress
1 In expressing my earnest admiration of this wonderful book, I
must, however, declare that several of its conclusions, and especiaUy
the flnal ones, represent the extreme reverse of my own beliefs on the
subject. I do not think the Japanese without individuality ; but their
individuality is less superficially apparent, and reveals itself much
less quickly, than that of Western people. I am also convinced that
much of what we call "personality" and "force of character" in
the West represents only the survival and recognition of primitive
aggressive tendencies, more or less disguised by culture. What Mr.
Spencer calls the highest individuation surely does not include extraor
dinary development of powers adapted to merely aggressive ends;
and yet it is rather through these than through any others that West
ern individuality most commonly and readily manifests itself. Now
there is, as yet, a remarkable scarcity in Japan, of domineering, brutal,
aggressive, or morbid individuality. What does impress one as an
apparent weakness in Japanese intellectual circles is the comparative
absence of spontaneity, creative thought, original perceptivity of the
highest order. Perhaps this seeming deficiency is racial : the peoples
of the Far East seem to have been throughout their history receptive
rather than creative. At all events I cannot believe Buddhism —
originally the faith of an Aryan race — can be proven responsible.
The total exclusion of Buddhist influence from public education would
not seem to have been stimulating ; for the masters of the old Bud
dhist philosophy still show a far higher capacity for thinking in rela
tions than that of the average graduate of the Imperial University.
Indeed, I am inclined to believe that an intellectual revival of Bud
dhism — a harmonizing of its loftier truths with the best and broadest
teachings of modern science — would have the most important results
for Japan. A native scholar, Mr. Inouy e Enry 6, has actually founded

THE JAPANESE SMILE. 683
made by Japan in social morality, although greater
than our own, was chiefly in the direction of mutual
dependence. And it will be her coming duty to
keep in view the teaching of that mighty thinker
whose philosophy she has wisely accepted, ^ — the
teaching that " the highest individuation must be
joined with the greatest mutual dependence," and
that, however seemingly paradoxical the statement,
" the law of progress is at once toward complete sep
arateness and complete union."
Yet to that past which her younger generation
now affect to despise Japan will certainly one day
look back, even as we ourselves look back to the old
Greek civilization. She will learn to regret the for
gotten capacity for simple pleasures, the lost sense of
the pure joy of life, the old loving divine intimacy
^ith nature, the marvelous dead art which reflected
it. She will remember how much more luminous
and beautiful the world then seemed. She will
mourn for many things, — the old-fashioned patience
and self-sacrifice, the ancient courtesy, the deep
human poetry of the ancient faith. She will wonder
at many things ; but she will regret. Perhaps she
will wonder most of all at the faces of the ancient
gods, because their smile was once the likeness of her
own.at Tokyo with this noble object in view, a college of philosophy which
seems likely, at the present writing, to become an influential institu
tion. 1 Herbert Spencer.

xxvn
SAYONARA !
I.
I AM going away, — very far away. I have already
resigned my post as teacher, and am waiting only for
my passport.
So many familiar faces have vanished that I feel
now less regret at leaving than I should have felt six
months ago. And nevertheless, the quaint old city
has become so endeared to me by habit and associ
ation that the thought of never seeing it again is one
I do not venture to dwell upon. I have been trying
to persuade myself that some day I may return to
this charming old house, in shadowy Kitaborimachi,
though all the while painfully aware that in past
experience such imaginations invariably preceded
perpetual separation.
The facts are that all things are impermanent in
the Province of the Gods ; that the winters are very
severe; and that I have received a call from the
great Government college in Kyiishii, far south, where
snow rarely falls. Also I have been very sick ; and
the prospect of a milder climate had much influence
in shaping my decision.
But these few days of farewells have been full of
charming surprises. To have the revelation of grati
tude where you had no right to expect more than
plain satisfaction with your performance of duty;

SA YONARA I 685
to find affection where you supposed only good-will
to exist: these are assuredly delicious experiences.
The teachers of both schools have sent me a fare
well gift, — a superb pair of vases nearly three feet
high, covered with designs representing birds, and
flowering-trees overhanging a slope of beach where
funny pink crabs are running about, — vases made in
the old feudal days at Rakusan, — rare souvenirs of
Izumo. With the wonderful vases came a scroll
bearing in Chinese text the names of the thirty-two
donors ; and three of these are names of ladies, — the
three lady-teachers of the Normal School.
The students of the Jinjo-Chiigakko have also sent
me a present, — the last contribution of two hundred
and fifty -one pupils to my happiest memories of
Matsue : a Japanese sword of the time of the dai
myo. Silver karashishi with eyes of gold — in Izumo,
the Lions of Shinto — swarm over the crimson lacquer
of the sheath, and sprawl about the exquisite hilt.
And the committee who brought the beautiful thing
to my house requested me to accompany them forth
with to the college assembly-room, where the students
were all waiting to bid me good-by, after the old-
time custom.
So I went there. And the things which we said to
each other are hereafter set down,
n.
Deab Teacher : — You have been one of the best and
most benevolent teachers we ever had. We thank you with
aU our heart for the knowledge we obtained through your
kindest instruction. Every student in our school hoped you
would stay with us at least three years. When we learned
you had resolved to go to Kyiishii, we all felt our hearts

686 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
sink with sorrow. We entreated our Director to find some
way to keep you, but we discovered that could not be done.
We have no words to express our feeling at this moment of
farewell. We sent you a Japanese sword as a memory of
us. It was only a poor ugly thing ; we merely thought you
would care for it as a mark of our gratitude. We will never
forget your kindest instruction ; and we aU wish that you
may ever be healthy and happy. Masastabu Otaio:,
Representing all the Students of the Middle School
of ShiTtiane-Ken.
Mt DEAJB Boys : — I cannot tell you with what feelings
I received your present ; that beautiful sword with the silver
karashishi ramping upon its sheath, or crawhng through the
silken cording of its wonderful hilt. At least I cannot teU
you all. But there flashed to me, as I looked at your gift,
the remembrance of your ancient proverb : " The Sword is
the Soul of the Samurai." And then it seemed to me that
in the very choice of that exquisite souvenir you had sym
bolized something of your own souls. For we English also
have some famous sayings and proverbs about swords. Our
poets call a good blade " trusty " and " true " ; and of our best
friend we say, " He is true as steel" — signifying in the an
cient sense the steel of a perfect sword, — the steel to whose
temper a warrior could trust his honor and his life. And
so in your rare gift, which I shall keep and prize while I
live, I find an emblem of your true-heartedness and affection.
May you always keep fresh within your hearts those im
pulses of generosity and kindliness and loyalty which I have
learned to know so well, and of which your gift wiU ever
remain for me the graceful symbol !
And a symbol not only of your affection and loyalty as
students to teachers, but of that other beautiful sense of
duty you expressed, when so many of you wrote down for
me, as your dearest wish, the desire to die for His Imperial
Majesty, your Emperor. That wish is holy : it means per-

SAYONARA! 687
haps even more than you know, or can know, until you shall
have become much older and wiser. This is an era of great
and rapid change ; and it is probable that many of you, as
you grow up, will not be able to believe everything that your
fathers believed before you ; — though I sincerely trust you
will at least continue always to respect the faith, even as
you stUl respect the memory, of your ancestors. But how
ever much the life of New Japan may change about you,
however much your own thoughts may change with the
times, never suffer that noble wish you expressed to me to
pass away from your souls. Keep it burning there, clear
and pure as the flame of the little lamp that glows before
your household shrine.
Perhaps some of you may have that wish. Many of
you must become soldiers. Some will become officers.
Some wiU enter the Naval Academy to prepare for the
grand service of protecting the empire by sea ; and your
Emperor and your country may even require your blood.
But the greater number among you are destined to other
careers, and may have no such chances of bodily self-sacri
fice, — except perhaps in the hour of some great national
danger, which I trust Japan wiU never know. And there
is another desire, not less noble, which may be your compass
in civil life : to Uve for your country though you cannot die
for it. Like the kindest and wisest of fathers, your Gov
ernment has provided for you these splendid schools, with
all opportunities for the best instruction this scientific cen
tury can give, at a far less cost than any other civilized
country can offer the same advantages. And all this in order
that each of you may help to make your country wiser
and richer and stronger than it has ever been in the past.
And whoever does his best, in any caUing or profession, to
ennoble and develop that caUing or profession, gives his
Ufe to his Emperor and to his country no less truly than
the soldier or the seaman who dies for duty.
I am not less sorry to leave you, I think, than you are
to see me go. The more I have learned to know the hearts

688 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILLAR JAPAN.
of Japanese students, the more I have learned to love their
country. I think, however, that I shaU see many of you
again, though I never return to Matsue : some I am almost
sure I shaU meet elsewhere in future summers ; some I
may even hope to teach once more, in the Government
coUege to which I am going. But whether we meet again
or not, be sure that my Ufe has been made happier by know
ing you, and that I shall always love you. And, now, with
renewed thanks for your beautiful gift, good-by !
m.
The students of the Normal School gave me a
farewell banquet in their hall. I had been with them
so little during the year — less even than the stipu
lated six hours a week — that I could not have sup
posed they would feel much attachment for their for
eign teacher. But I have still much to learn about
my Japanese students. Tbe banquet was delight
ful. The captain of each class in turn read in English
a brief farewell address which he had prepared ; and
more than one of those charming compositions, made
beautiful with similes and sentiments drawn from
the old Chinese and Japanese poets, will always re
main in my memory. Then the students sang their
college songs for me, and chanted the Japanese ver
sion of " Auld Lang Syne " at the close of the ban
quet. And then all, in military procession, escorted
me home, and cheered me farewell at my gate, with
shouts of " Manzai ! " " Good-by ! " " We will march
with you to the steamer when you go."
rv.
But I shall not have the pleasure of seeing them
again. They are all gone far away — some to

SAYONARA! 689
another world. Yet it is only four days since I at
tended that farewell banquet at the Normal School !
A cruel visitation has closed its gates and scattered
its students through the province.
Two nights ago, the Asiatic cholera, supposed to
have been brought to Japan by Chinese vessels,
broke out in different parts of the city, and, among
other places, in the Normal School. Several stu
dents and teachers expired within a short while after
having been attacked ; others are even now lingering
between life and death. The rest marched to the
little healthy village of Tamatsukuri, famed for its
hot springs. But there the cholera again broke out
among them, and it was decided to dismiss the sur
vivors at once to their several homes. There was no
panic. The military discipline remained unbroken.
Students and teachers fell at their posts. The great
college building was taken charge of by the medical
authorities, and the work of disinfection and sani
tation is still going on. Only the convalescents and
the fearless samurai president, Saito Kumataro, re
main in it. Like the captain who scorns to leave
his sinking ship tih all souls are safe, the president
stays in the centre of danger, nursing the sick boys,
overlooking the work of sanitation, transacting all
the business usually intrusted to several subordinates,
whom he promptly sent away in the first hour of
peril. He has had the joy of seeing two of his boys
saved. Of another, who was buried last night, I hear this :
Only a little while before his death, and in spite of
kindliest protest, he found strength, on seeing his
president approaching his bedside, to rise on his
elbow and give the military salute. And with that

690 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN.
brave greeting to a brave man, he passed into the
Great Silence. V.
At last my passport has come. I must go.
The Middle School and the adjacent elementary
schools have been closed on account of the appear
ance of cholera, and I protested against any gath
ering of the pupils to bid me good-by, fearing for
them the risk of exposure to the chilly morning air
by the shore of the infected river. But my protest
was received only with a merry laugh. Last night
the Director sent word to all the captains of classes.
Wherefore, an hour after sunrise, some two hundred
students, with their teachers, assemble before my gate
to escort me to the wharf, near the long white bridge,
where the little steamer is waiting. And we go.
Other students are already assembled at tbe wharf.
And with them wait a multitude of people known to
me : friends or friendly acquaintances, parents and rel
atives of students, every one to whom I can remember
having ever done the slightest favor, and many more
from whom I have received favors which I never
had the chance to return, — persons who worked for
me, merchants from whom I purchased little things,
a host of kind faces, smihng salutation. The Gov
ernor sends his secretary with a courteous message ;
the President of the Normal School hurries down for
a moment to shake hands. The Normal students
have been sent to their homes, but not a few of their
teachers are present. I most miss friend Nishida,
He has been very sick for two long months, bleeding
at the lungs, but his father brings me the gentlest
of farewell letters from him, penned in bed, and some
pretty souvenirs.

SAYONARA! 691
And now, as I look at all these pleasant faces
about me, I cannot but ask myself the question :
" Could I have lived in the exercise of the same pro
fession for the same length of time in any other
country, and have enjoyed a sirailar unbroken expe
rience of human goodness ? " From each and all of
these I have received only kindness and courtesy.
Not one has ever, even through inadvertence, ad
dressed to me a single ungenerous word. As a
teacher of more than five hundred boys and men, I
have never even had my patience tried. I wonder
if such an experience is possible only in Japan,
But the little steamer shrieks for her passengers.
I shake many hands — most heartily, perhaps, that
of the brave, kind President of the Normal School —
and climb on board. The Director of the Jinjo
Chiigakko, a few teachers of both schools, and one
of my favorite pupils, follow ; they are going to
accompany me as far as the next port, whence my
way will be over the mountains to Hiroshima.
It is a lovely vapory morning, sharp with the first
chill of winter. From the tiny deck I take my last
look at the quaint vista of the Ohashigawa, with its
long white bridge, — at the peaked host of queer dear
old houses, crowding close to dip their feet in its
glassy flood, — at the sails of the junks, gold-colored
by the early sun, — at the beautiful fantastic shapes
of the ancient hills.
Magical indeed the charm of this land, as of a land
veritably haunted by gods : so lovely the spectral
delicacy of its colors, — so lovely the forms of its hills
blending with the forms of its clouds, — so lovely,
above all, those long trailings and bandings of mists

692 GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILLAR JAPAN.
which make its altitudes appear to hang in air. A
land where sky and earth so strangely intermingle
that what is reality may not be distinguished from
what is illusion, — that all seems a mirage, about to
vanish. For me, alas ! it is about to vanish forever.
The little steamer shrieks again, puffs, backs into
midstream, turns from the long white bridge. And
as the gray wharves recede, a long Aaaaaaaaaa rises
from the uniformed ranks, and all the caps wave,
flashing their Chinese ideographs of brass. I clam
ber to the roof of the tiny deck cabin, wave my hat,
and shout in English : " Good-by, good-by ! " And
there floats back to me the cry : " Manzai, manzai ! "
[Ten thousand years to you ! ten thousand years !]
But already it comes faintly from far away. The
packet glides out of the river-mouth, shoots into the
blue lake, turns a pine -shadowed point; and the
faces, and the voices, and the wharves, and the long
white bridge have become memories.
Still for a little while looking back, as we pass into
the silence of the great water, I can see, receding on
the left, the crest of the ancient castle, over grand
shaggy altitudes of pine, — and the place of my horae,
with its delicious garden, — and the long blue roofs
of the schools. These, too, swiftly pass out of vision.
Then only faint blue water, faint blue mists, faint
blues and greens and grays of peaks looming through
varying distance, and beyond all, towering ghost-
white into the east, the glorious spectre of Daisen.
And my heart sinks a moment under the rush of
those vivid memories whicb always crowd upon one
the instant after parting, — memories of all that
make attachment to places and to things. Remem
bered smiles ; the morning gathering at the threshold

SAYONARA! 693
of the old yashiki to wish the departing teacher a
happy day; the evening gathering to welcome his
return ; the dog waiting by the gate at the accus
tomed hour; the garden with its lotus-flowers and
its cooing of doves ; the musical boom of the temple
bell from the cedar groves; songs of children at
play ; afternoon shadows upon many-tinted streets ;
the long lines of lantern-fires upon festal nights ; the
dancing of the moon upon the lake; the clapping of
hands by the river shore in salutation to the Izumo
sun ; the endless merry pattering of geta over the
windy bridge : all these and a hundred other happy
memories revive for me with almost painful vivid
ness, — while the far peaks, whose names are holy,
slowly turn away their blue shoulders, and the little
steamer bears me, more and more swiftly, ever farther
and farther from the Province of the Gods.

INDEX.

[Volnine L Includes pages 1-342 ; Volume II., pagee 343-693.]

•*Agonashi-Jiz5," 594.
Amanjako, 100.
Ame-nouzume-no-mikoto, 247 et pas
sim.
Animals, prayers for the souls of do
mestic, 124, 125, and note.
Anthem, the Japanese National, 450.
Apes, the Three Mystic^ 46, 127.
Arakawa Junosuke, artist, 465.
Bamboo, symbolism of the, 494.
*' Bateiseki," a black stone, 591 et pas
sim.
Bato-Ewannon, 124.
Bekkwa, ancient title of a Shinto hiero
phant, 253.
Bells, famous Buddhist, 66, 67, note ; 68.
Beuten, the Goddess, 51.
Bimbogami, the God of Poverty, 177 et
seq., 502.
Bimbomushl, the ** Poverty - Insect,"
502.
Birthday of Buddha {Busshoe)^ 36.
Bokkuri, 145.
Bommatsuri, or Bonku, Festival of the
Bead, 106, 130. See, also, chapter
*' By the Japanese Sea."
Bon-ichi, 105 et seq.
Bon-Odori, 129-138.
Bridget, curious customs relating to,
148.
Bronze Horse at Kitzuki, story about
the, 254.
*'Buddha's-FingerB,'* a pretty shrub,
353.
Buddhas, number of the, 175.
Butsudan, or Butsuma, tbe Buddhist
household'Sbrine, 111, 404 et seq.
OaJligraphy, 4e^ seq., 256, 266. See,
also, chapter " The Writing of KSbo-
dai^i."
Candles, votive, 316, and note.
Cats, superstitions about, 369; kept as
a ^eguard against goblins, 508, 509.
Cave of the Children's Ghosts, In the,
211-229.
Cemeteries, Buddhist, 40.
Chamberlain, Professor Basil Hall, 20,

note ; 44, 50, note ; 204, 296, note ; 307-
note ; 318, 355, 367, note ; 386, 419, 432,
498, 576, 604, 630.
Charcoal, a symbol, 496.
Charms, curious: arrow-shaped, 126,
161, 235 ; of Yaegaki, 303-306 ; against
devils, 499 ; against burglars, 603.
Cherry-trees, extraordinary beauty of
Japanese, 19, 20, 365 et passim.
Chickens, not allowed to exist iu Mio
noseki, 231.
Chief City of the Province of the Goda,
The, 139-171.
Chinese architecture, 63, 64.
Cicadse, wonderful sounds made by Jap
anese, 370 et seq.
Colds, god of coughs and, 313, 639.
Color, in Japanese streets, 2, 3 et seq. ;
in Japanese landscapes, 574-576.
Conder, Josiah, 346, note ; 349, and note.
Curiosity excited by foreigners, 213,
225, 226, 616.
Cuttle-fish, 276, 589, 590.
Daibutsu of Kamakura, 78, 674.
Daisen, Moimt, 153 et passim.
Dancing-Girl, Of a, 525-552.
Dancing-girls, names of, 307 ; life of,
525-633.
Dead, prayers to the, 409, 410, 412, 413-
415.
Death, touching custom relating to,
611.
De Coulanges, Fustel, 394.
Deities, evil, 147.
Devils, casting out of, 498.
Diary of an English Teacher, From th&
430-490.
Divining-papers, 171.
Divlning-sticks, 37.
Doll, a philosophical, 465.
Dolls, 265-267.
Dragons, remarkable carvings of, 65.
Drawing, high capacity of Japanese
students Id, 436.
Dreams, lucky and unlucky, 363, and
note.
Education, the Imperial Words on, 44^

696

INDEX.

Eggs, hen's, not allowed to be sold in
Mionoseki, 230.
Elements, Chinese ideas about the influ
ence of the, 630, note.
Emma-Do, remarkable temple at
Kamakura, 74r-76.
Emma-0, Lord of Hell, the Sanscrit
Tamarrajah, 50, 75, 76.
Endo Morito, 577.
English compositions by Japanese stu
dents, 457 et seq.
En-musubi-no-Kami, 302.
Enoshima, 85.
Enoshima, a pilgrimage to, 62-104.
Eyes of gods and dragons, 606.
Fern-leaves, symbolism of, 495.
Festivals, Two Strange, 491-503.
Fever, ghostly explanation of intermit
tent, 604.
Fire-drill, sacred, 109.
Flower-shows, 167.
Flowers, the Japanese art of arranging,
344 et seq.
Fortune-telling, 37.
Fox, superstitions about the. See chax>-
ter "Kitsune."
Fox-belief, affecting the value of real
estate, 330.
Foxes, the various kinds of ghostly,
317.
** Fox-fires " {Kitsune-U), 323.
Fox-gifts, illusive character of, 232.
Fox-holes in temples of Inari, 316.
Fox-owners {Kitswne-inochi), 326 et
seq., 607, and note.
Fox-possession {Kitsune-tsuki)^ 322.
Fudo-Sama, 46.
Funeral customs, 52, and notes ; in
Izumo, 482-485.
Funeral processions, weirdness of, 290,
484.
"Fuku-ishi," a sacred stone, 89.
** Futon of Tottori," ghost-story called
the, 515.
Geisha. See Dancing-girls.
Gengebana, the fiower, 308, and note.
Gentleness, 6, 123, 239, 438, 618, 691 et
passim.
Ghosts, naked footprints of, 221 ; a
congregation of, 612 ; origin of Jap
anese pictures of, 427 ; playing at,
428.
Ghosts and Goblins, of, 637-655. See
chapter "Of Ghosts and Goblins;"
also 219 et passim.
Goblin-spiders, 376.
Go-Daigo, legends of the exiled Em
peror, 593, 599.
Gohei, origin of, 495.
Gokuraku, the Buddhist paradise, 57.
Go-Toba, the exiled Emperor, 614.
Gwan-hodoki, votive offerings, 301,
note.
**Hadakar-Jizo," a statue, 73.

Hair, colors of Japanese, 418, note.
Hell, the Buddhist, 54r-56, 644 et seq,
Hideyoshi and the Fox-God, 319.
Hifukidake, magical use of, 502.
Hijo, things without desire, 351.
Hinomisaki, At, 274-285.
Hlnomisaki-jinja, a remarkable templOg
277 et seq.
Hito-koto-Kwannon, the Goddess who
must not be prayed to twice, 651, and
note.
" Hiza-Kuruge," a famous comedy, 335.
Hoin, exorciser, 325.
Hoki to Oki, From, 553-625.
Holiday decorations, 491 ei passim.
Honen-odori, the harvest dance, 269 et
seq.
Hotoke, various strange meanings of
the word, 605.
Hotoke-umi, the Sea of the Dead, 604
et passiTn.
Hototogisu, ghostly belief about the
bird called, 376.
Household Shrine, the, 385, 416.
Hyakusho, 125, note.
Ihai, or mortuary tablet, Buddhist. See
chapter "The Household Shrine;"
beautiful legend of an, 661 ; tha
Shinto, 409.
Ddgami, " living deity," 189.
Iki-ningyo, 641.
Inada-Mme, 294.
Inari, popular ideas of, 312 ef seq,
Inasa, at Kitzuki, 204.
'* Infinite Vision," 328, and note.
Innen, or Karma, 287.
Inouye Enryo, .Buddhist scholar, 682,
note.
James, J. M., 328, note.
James, Mrs. T. H., 426, note.
"Japan Daily Mail," the, 681, note.
Japanese Garden, In a, 343-384.
Jewel, the Mystic 43.
" Jin-O," the "Ten Kings," 75.
Jizo, 34 et passim; "Agonashi -J.,"
594 ; " The Six J.," 127, 128, and note ;
143.
Kadomatsu, "Gate Pine-tree," 493, and
note.
Kaguhana, 54, 55.
Kaimyo, posthumous names conferred
by Buddhism, 112. See, also, chapter
" The Household Shrine."
Kaka-ura, village of, 224 et seq.
Kakemono, a remarkable BuddhiJitk
464.
Kamakura, 62-84.
Kame-dar-yu, 200.
Kami, number of the, 176.
Kappa, 505, 506, and note.
Karashishi, 338 et passim.
Katayama Shokei, teacher, 488.
Kembutsu, 589.
Ken, the game of, 527.

INDEX.

697

Kengy5, ShintS title, 282.
Ken-ro-ji-jiu, the Earth-God, 100.
Kicliinyado, 159.
Kishibojin, 96.
-Kitoja-no-mouo, 511.
Kitten, the Beckoning, 530.
Kitzuki : the Most Ancient Shrine of
Japan, 172-210.
Kitsuki, Notes on, 244-273.
Kitsuue, 310-542.
K5b3daishi, The Writing of, 29-33.
Kodomo-no-Inari, the Children's Fox-
God, 337.
"Ko-ji-ki," Professor B. H. Chamber
lain's translation of the, 20, 172, 186,
193, 204, 208, note ; 231, 294, 312, note ;
348, note ; 390, 419, note ; 432, 495.
Kojin, worn-out dolls offered to the
god, 268.
Kokuzo, 197, note; 206, note ; 206, 207.
Kokuzo-arfi, 201.
Koshin, God of Roads, 98 et passim.
Koteda-Tasusada, Governor of Shimane
Ken, 143, 431, 444, 450, 456, 476.
Koto-ita, a kind of sacred musical in
strument, 199.
Koto-shiro-nushi-no-Kami, 186, note, et
passim.
Kubi-oke, or " head-box," 284.
Kudan, a fabulous animal, 567, and
note.
Kwannon, the Buddhist divinity : Kwan-
non-of-the-Thousand-Hands, 46 ; other
forms of the goddess, 69, 70, note ;
Kwannon - of - the - Eleven - Faces, 82 ;
Horse-headed Kwannon, 124 ; votive
offerings to Kwannon, 266 ; Hito-
koto-Kwannon at Nara, 661.
*'Lady Moon," 171, note.
" Lady Sun." See 0-Hi-San.
Lake of Blood, the, 56.
Lamps of the Gods, rules for lighting
the, 410 et seq.
Left side, lucky, 496.
Legends and stories, 29-33, 68, 72-74,
76, 82-84, 97, 108, 109, note ; 127, note ;
14&-150, 152, 161-166, 177, 178, 180,
185, 190-197, 200, 204, 207, 217, note ;
229, 231, 253-255, 283-285, 294, 297,
333, 348, 369, 363, 365, 369, 373, and
notes; 425, 426, and note; 506, note;
515, 521, 529, note ; 566, 577, 591, 693,
594, 600, 648, 651.
Lobster, emblem of longevity, 497.
Lotus-flowers, 14 et passim. For arti
ficial, see chapter " At the Market of
the Dead.'* Souls bom from lotus-
flowers, 67. See, also, chapter "In
a Japanese Garden."
"Lotus of the Good Law," the, 39,
143.
Lowell, Percival, 259, 682.
Lullaby, Japanese, 609.
Magic, 603, 632.
Magic-lantern show, 646.

Market of the Dead, At the, 105-119.
Match-boxes, curious Inscription upon.
411.
Matches, should not be used to lieht
the lamps of the Shinto KOds, 410«
411.
Medusa-legends, 425.
Meibutsu, 689.
Meido, the World of the Dead, 53, 54
et passim.
Melodies of peasant-songs, 137.
Miko, Virgin priestess, 201, 202, 246 «g
seq.
Mikuji, 37.
Minige, a strange festival called, 253.
Miojinja, the famous temple of Mio
noseki, 235 et passim,.
Minoseki, At, 230-243.
" Mirror of Souls," the, 57.
Mirrors of jealous women, 426, and
note.
Mirume and Kaguhana, ' * the Wit
nesses," 54, 55.
Mitsu-ura, village of, 213.
Miya, Shinto household shrine, 39 el
seq.
Miyuki, ancient ceremony called, 622.
Mokenren, Dai, 108.
Mokugyo, 47 et passim.
Mongaku Shonin, 577-579.
Monjin-Bosatsu, 31.
Morse, E. S., 349.
Mouths of Sacred Images, why open or
shut, 338, and note.
Moxa, 604, and note.
Nagoya Sanza, 248.
Nakamura MougorS of Kitzuki, 24&-
251.
Nanten, curious belief about the plant,
353.
Navel-string, preservation of tbe, 508.
Nehan-gyo, Nirvana-Sutra, 490.
Ni-0, 26, 26, and note.
Nishida Sentaro, teacher, 173, 430, 433,
439, 440, 690.
Nobori, little paper flags, 301, 302.
Nominosukune, patron deity of wrest
lers, 195.
Normal Schools, discipline of students
in, 434 et seq. See, also, chapter
" Sayonara."
"Nuke-kubi," weird superstition, 423
et seq.
Oba, Fox-God of, 313.
Offerings to the dead, explanation d
popular idea about, 409.
Offerings to the gods, curious, 613.
O-Hlme-San, title of a Shinto PontifPa
daughters, 282.
O-Hi-San, 223, and note.
Oho-kuni-nushi-no-Kami, the great god
of Izumo, 186, 275.
Oki, extraordinary kindness and hon»
esty of the people of, 680, 586, 601,
602.

698

INDEX.

O-Kunl, the Miko, tradition of, 248.
Oni-yarai, 498.
Otafuku, mask representing. 111, 247,
259.
Orient, My First Day in the, 1-61,
O-Tsuki-San, 171, and note.
Peas, devils hate dried, 498.
" People-shapes " (hiiogata), 503.
Phantom-ships, 569.
Phantom-temple, 611.
Pilgrimage to Enoshima, a, 62-104.
Pilgrimages, enormous, 169.
Pillow-lore, 517.
Pine, a phallic, 611.
Police, Japanese, 620, note.
Privacy, absence of, 618, 619.
Proverbs, curious, 76, note.
B«birth, strange story of, 622 ; behefs
about, 610.
**Rokudo-kane," money buried with
the dead, 52, note.
Boku-Jizo, 127, 128, and note.
Booflng, an extraordinary kind of, 280.
Byobu-Shinto, 279.
Sar-hime-yama, legend of, 180.
Saibun, address to the soul of a dead
person, 487 et seq.
Saigo, chief city of Oki, 683.
Sai-no-lk6, a sacred lake, 696.
Saino-kawara, 44 et passim,; pictures
of, 56, 56.
" Sal - uo - Kawara-Kuchi - zu-sami- no -
den," a curious book about the place
of children's ghosts, 44, 56, 56.
Saito-Kumataro, President of the Matsue
Normal School, 689 et seq.
Sambo, 497.
Sanzu-no-Kawa, the Phuitom-river over
which the dead must pass, 52, 53.
Saruda-hiko-no-mikoto, 127.
Sasa, priest of Kitzuki, 188 et seq., 194,
203, 204, 262.
Satow, Ernest, 19, note ; 147, 312, note ;
359, 386, 392, note ; 393-395.
Sayonara, 684r-693.
Scarecrows, god of, 298.
Sea, By the Japanese, 504-524.
Segaki, offerings to hungry spirits,
108.
Seklrei, wagtails, 298.
Senke Takanorl, Pontiff of Kitzuki, 173,
note ; 187, 191 et seg., 245, 246.
Berpent, the sacred, 184-186, and notes.
Setsubun, the festival called, 498.
Shaba-world, Buddhist name for this
world, 53 et passi-m.
Shachihoko, 350, and note.
Shaka, " Sakya-Muni," 26-64.
Shakujo, origin of the, 498, note.
Shimekazari, 496, note.
Shimenawa, sacred straw rope, 20 ; rules
for making, 496 et seq.
Shinju, 286-293.
Shinbotoke, or " new Buddhas,'* 412.

Shinto, eiemplifles Herbert Spencer's
law of religious evolution. 39^-395.
Shiraboshi, 633.
Shiyeki-jinja, curious history of the
temple called, 285.
Shoryobune, the straw ships of tha
dead. See chapter "At the Market
of the Dead ; " also 509 et seq.
Side-shows, queer exhibitions In Japft*
nese, 425.
Silk, forbidden by Buddhism, 72, 73,
Small-pox god, 147.
Smile, The Japanese, 656-683.
Snakes, superstition about, 368.
" Snow Woman," the, 637.
Sotoba, in Buddhist cemeteries, Sanscrit
stupa, 40.
Sodzu-Baba, the Goblin-Hag of tha
Sanzu-no-Kawa, 52.
"Soul of the Far East," Lowell's, 259,
682, and note.
Souls, Of, 626-636.
Souls, strange beliefs about, 359, note ;
631, 632 ; souls of trees, 358 ; magical
invocation of the souls of living per
sons, 632.
Spencer, Herbert, 392, 394, 453, 682,
683, and note.
Spirit of Food, the August, 300, 312 et

Statues, animated, 266.
Steed, a supernatural, 691.
Stones, beauty of, 346 ; musical, 296 ;
sacred, 89, 02 et passim, 348 ; used In
praying, 43, 44, and note.
Straw, effigies made of, 252, 511. See,
also, chapter "At the Market of the
Dead."
Straw ships. See Shoryobune.
Study, amazing earnestness in, 666.
Suicide, letter of a, 291.
Suicides, extraordinary and heroic, 391.
Svastika {manju), 509.
Tabari-no-Kagami, the Me^c Mirror of
the Underworld, 54.
Tablets, ancestral, 406 et seq. ; beautiful
custom relating to mortuary, 406, 407.
See, also, under Ihai.
Tamamonomac, The Fox-Woman, 336.
Tatami, or floor-mats, 281 et passim.
Tegashiwa, the Beckoning Plant, 362.
Tengu, 122, 340.
Tenjin, festival of, 256.
Tennin, or Buddhist angels, 58 et pas
sim,.
Thousand Jizo, the, 71.
Thousand Visits, the Vow of a, 302.
Thunder- Animal, the, 500.
Tobikawa, the wrestler, story of, 340.
Tomoye, the symbol, 269.
Torii, 19, note, et passim,
Torio, remarkable essay by Viscounty
676.
Tortoise, folklore about, 367.
Toys, 268 et seq.
Trees, goblin or ghostly, 303, 358 «l

INDEX.

699

aeq., 427; sacred, 251, 258, 302, 305,
360, 600, 614.
Isuito-kwai, form of service for the
dead, 485 et seq-.
Uguisu, the bird called, 143 et seq.^ 381,
TTjigaini, 164, 394.
Ujiko, 164.
UjS, things having desire, 351.
Unke Sosei, Buddhist sculptor, 76.
Uryo, 282.
Wallace, A. R., 492, note.
Wasan, or hymn of Jizo, 53.
Woman, flowers compared with, 357.
Woman's Hair, Of, 417-429.
Woman's language, 291.
*' Words of Perfume" a sacred acrostic,
487.
Wrestlers, foxes afraid of, 329.
Writing, wholesome auperstitioD about,

503; beautiful, see under GaUigra
phy.
Taegoki-jinja, 294-309.
Yaku-otoshi, the caster - out of devils.
498,
Yakushi-Nyorai, 175.
Yakushi-Sama, 47.
Yamabato, or wild dove, 381.
Yamabushi, an exerciser, 325.
Yama-uo-mono, a pariah class, 288.
Yamazakura, humorous play on the
name, 355, note.
Yanagi, odd beliefs relating to the wil
low-tree, 598. See, also, under Treeso
GobUn.
Yane-shobu, the roof-plant, 62.
Yasugi, village of, 231.
Yuzurl, symbolism of plant called, 354.
Zuljiu, the guardian figures at ShintS
gateways, 299.

3 9002 00884 6710