,k ,a ,k ,e ,m ,o ,n ,o ,,japanese ,,sketches ,,by ,a4 ,,herbage ,,edwards ,,with ,,frontispiece ,illustration3 ,printer's ,logo ,,chicago ,a4 ,c4 ,mc,c,l,u,r,g ,,co4 ,,london3 ,,william ,,heinemann #aijf ,illustration3 ,,copyright #aijf ,s4 ,l4 ,,willard ,a ,daughter of ,japan ,american ,edition ,published ,sept4 #ae1 #aijf ,printed in ,great ,britain ,bound by ,lakeside ,press1 ,chicago ,,to ,,my ,,teachers ,,the ,,people ,,of ,,japan ,,contents ,,the ,,faith ,,of ,,japan ,,page ,i4 ,,dai ,,butsu #c ,,ii4 ,,the ,,shrines ,,of ,,is #e ,,iii4 ,,the ,,temple ,,of ,,nikk #h ,,iv4 ,,kannon1 ,,lady ,,of ,,mercy #ad ,v4 ,,rinzaki',s ,,altar #ag ,,vi4 ,,two ,,creeds #ai ,,vii4 ,,the ,,legend ,,of ,,the ,,noseless ,,jiz #bb ,,viii4 ,,the ,,temples ,,of ,,shiba #bg ,,ix4 ,,amida ,,butsu #ca ,x4 ,,st4 ,,nichiren #cd ,,xi4 ,,between ,,earth ,,and ,,heaven #cf ,,xii4 ,,inari1 ,,the ,,fox-,,god #ci ,,xiii4 ,,the ,,altar ,,of ,,fire #db ,,xiv4 ,,forgotten ,,gods #dh ,,lord ,,fuji ,i4 ,,prologue #ee ,,ii4 ,,the ,,ascent #eg ,,iii4 ,,epilogue #ii ,,the ,,art ,,of ,,the ,,nation ,i4 ,,grace ,,before ,,meat #ajc ,,ii4 ,,in ,a ,,cloisonn ,,factory #aaj ,,iii4 ,,flower ,,arrangement #aad ,,iv4 ,,god',s ,,messenger #aai ,v4 ,,the ,,art ,,of ,,the ,,people #abb ,,scenes ,,in ,,rain ,,and ,,sunshine ,i4 ,,the ,,moat #aeg ,,ii4 ,a ,,rainy ,,day #aei ,,iii4 ,,mm 7,,plum ,,blossoms7 #afa ,,iv4 ,,wet ,,leaves #afc ,v4 ,,asamayama #afe ,,vi4 ,,camellias #agf ,,vii4 ,,rain #agh ,,viii4 ,,the ,,black ,,canal #aha ,,ix4 ,,the ,,inland ,,sea #ahd ,,the ,,land ,,of ,,the ,,gods ,i4 ,,across ,,the ,,lagoon #aic ,,ii4 ,,to ,,kizuki #aii ,,iii4 ,,izumo',s ,,great ,,temple #bjd ,,iv4 ,,kizuki',s ,,bay #baa ,v4 ,,in ,,matsu #bad ,,vi4 ,,the ,,two ,,spirits #bce ,,the ,,heart ,,of ,,the ,,people ,i4 ,,tokyo #bdc ,,ii4 ,,east ,,and ,,west #bee ,,iii4 ,,yon',s ,,baby #beg ,,iv4 ,,the ,,graves ,,of ,,the ,r,,nin #bfj ,v4 ,,the ,,dolls' ,,festival #bfc ,,vi4 ,,with ,,death ,,beside ,,her #bff ,,vii4 ,,kyoto',s ,,soir,e #bfi ,,viii4 ,n #bgc ,,ix4 ,a ,,japanese ,,bank-,,holiday #bgh ,x4 ,,the ,,palace ,,of ,,the ,,son ,,of ,,heaven #bhb ,,xi4 ,,and ,,she ,,was ,a ,,widow #bhe ,,glossary #bic ,,the ,,faith ,,of ,,japan 8,in my ,father's house are many mansions40 ,john xiv4 ,tenshi ni kuchi nashi hito o motte iwashimu4 8,heaven has no mouth1 it makes men speak for it40 ,japanese ,proverb4 ,i ,,dai ,,butsu 7,,great ,,buddha7 ,the great ,god ,buddha sits peaceful and still1 a line of dark bronze against the blue sky1 and the length of the garden is flooded with light4 ,two tall pink cherry-trees drop blushing snowflakes on to his broad shoulders1 and the sound of running water is a liquid prayer4 ,under his heavy-lidded eyes he looks as one who saw not1 or saw too well1 and his slow smile is inscrutable and still4 ,the mystery of it draws one nearer4 ,what is thy secret1 ,great ,lord ,buddha8 ,but the heavy-lidded eyes droop lower1 and the slow smile is still4 ,only the cherry-trees send their pale pink petals floating downward into the bronzed lap4 ,and the murmuring water runs more swiftly4 ,immutable he sits1 and still2 enduring1 unchanging1 though the sea destroy his temples and the earthquakes rock about his feet4 ,buddha on his lotus-leaf is still4 ,and the generations of men rise up1 and pass away1 fretted with life's fitful fever1 and searching for his secret4 ,buddha is still1 his slow smile unchanging1 his heavy eyelids drooped4 ,is that thy secret1 ,great ,lord ,buddha8 ,the mystery we passion-swept1 ever-changing mortals can never penetrate8 8,god is the same1 for ever4 ,the same1 and for ever40 ,and the murmuring water runs1 the cherry-trees bloom and fade1 the centuries pass away4 ,still the heavy-lidded eyes are drooped1 the slow smile is inscrutable and still4 ,lord ,buddha keeps his secret4 ,or is it only we who cannot read4 ,,ii ,,the ,,shrines ,,of ,,is ,on every side the circle of the hills shuts out all sounds1 and the vast forest stretches solemn1 sombre4 ,the long two miles of white road from the village are forgotten1 the crude sunshine of the public gardens fades away1 the giant fir-trees stand as they stood two thousand years ago when the shrine of the great ,sun-,goddess first was born4 ,the broad grey path of unhewn stone1 unshadowed in the darkness of the trees1 bends downward to the river's brink1 where a grey still pool lies silent on the edge of the rushing stream4 ,it is the ,pool of ,purification where all who go up to the temple stay and wash4 ,even the kurumaya who daily draws the pilgrim or the stranger to the shrine1 stoops to plunge his hands and feet into the still grey waters4 ,and as he does so a great shaft of sunshine hits the weltering circle of the hills beyond the stream1 and they quiver1 blue as a distant mirage in the blue sky2 while the forest is the darker for that light4 ,the grey stone path is long and wide1 the forest vast1 unfathomable2 primval1 untamed1 and yet kept with a care that leaves no trace behind2 the forest of a dream where ,death is not1 nor decay1 nor any sign of man4 ,from time to time the dark stern stems of the cryptomerias are broken with the glossy deep-green leaves of a camphor-tree2 and each time my kurumaya stays to pray1 for camphor-trees are sacred1 and their bark thrown into the sea has power to calm the waves4 ,and the forest stretches on and on4 ,in the distance the grey stone path broadens into a flight of shallow steps1 and passes beneath an open gateway out of sight4 ,a wooden wall1 like the sloughed bark of forest trees1 stretches right and left2 and against it1 rigid in his discipline1 the white uniform of a modern soldier1 bayonet fixed4 ,i stand on the threshold of the most sacred spot in all ,japan4 ,beyond the gateway is another gate1 where a pure white curtain falls1 fold on fold4 ,it is the veil of the great ,sun-,goddess4 ,all through the ages since first the nation was1 the shrine of the ,sun-,goddess has stood behind that veil4 ,every twenty years night comes1 her temple dies1 and again is born1 unchanged1 unaltered to the last least detail4 ,and her priests are the carpenters4 ,so through all the ages1 the body of the great ,sun-,goddess glows1 in youth eternal1 and none save her far-off offspring1 ,tenshisama1 the ,son of ,heaven1 may pass behind the veil4 ,the ,japanese soldier stays to guard1 for did the stranger1 sacrilegious in his foolish pride1 so much as touch those long white folds1 evil might befall him4 ,viscount ,mori died beneath the sword of a samurai for lifting but the edge of the curtain with his stick4 ,my kurumaya is on his knees before these fluttering1 mysterious folds1 two claps1 a bow1 a little murmured prayer2 another bow1 two claps1 and he rises4 ,then he leads us along inside the wooden wall1 and another grey-green wooden wall1 built as it were of flattened tree-trunks1 rises on the other side1 leads us a few yards1 and then he stops4 ,the outer wooden wall runs round a huge imperfect square1 then comes a broad band of space where we are standing1 and then the inner wall rails out the world4 ,inside and opposite the curtained gateway1 but with the whole distance of the sacred square between1 stands the shrine itself1 a grey-brown wooden building1 unpainted1 unadorned2 a grey-brown roof of thatch1 with the cross-beams of its roof-tree rising up through the thatch in two rough wooden anchors bound with gold4 ,a building that is simple1 with a simplicity more strange to modern man than the strangest complexity1 archaic1 primval1 a ghost from man's dim past4 ,the silent sombre trees stand thickly round4 ,beyond the circle of blue hills shuts out all sounds4 ,the folds of the white curtain fall straight and close4 ,my kurumaya prays again4 ,and there behind her veil the great ,sun-,goddess dwells1 untouched by time1 of an age with the hills1 more primitive than the forest trees--and sacred still4 ,,iii ,,the ,,temple ,,of ,,nikk ,in all the pomp of splendour and of power they buried ,iyeyasu at ,nikk1 and the greatest artists of ,old ,japan came and built in his memory a temple more beautiful than any in all the length and breadth of the land4 ,for more than forty years they worked1 and brains and money and labour were poured out like mountain water1 until the temple stood complete1 the mausoleum of ,iyeyasu and the eternal monument of this artistic race4 ,with ,buddhist rites was the great ,shgun buried1 and for many hundred years daily remembered in a ritual as solemn as it is effective1 but ,buddha himself has not anywhere a temple so splendid4 ,they buried ,iyeyasu at ,nikk1 not in the town of his birth or of his death1 not in the city over which he ruled1 but four days' journey from ,yedo in the midst of the mountains2 and they did it that ,japan's greatest ruler might lie amid the nation's best in nature as in art1 that to the splendour of the temple the ,land herself might add the glories of her mountains and her trees4 ,at ,nikk is the great ,shgun buried1 and for twenty miles before his shrine a stately avenue of trees leads up to the temple1 and up this avenue prince and pilgrim yearly come2 prince and pilgrim1 priest and peasant they still come1 up the great avenue of dark thick-set cryptomerias1 the giant pine-trees of ,japan4 ,at the temple's foot a mountain stream rushes in a deep green gorge1 and two bridges cross the stream3 one bright red1 the bridge of the ,son of ,heaven1 one painted green1 for the rest of this world's humankind4 ,and the reason is that when the ,buddhist saint ,shd ,shnin pursued the vision that had been sent to him1 he journeyed into the mountains many days until the grey torrent of ,nikk rushing tumultuously across his path barred the way2 but the vision abode with him1 and ,shd ,shnin knew that he must cross the stream1 yet was there neither bridge1 nor boat1 nor crossing-place4 ,so the saint kneeled down and prayed4 ,then there appeared to him an angel1 clothed in black robes and blue1 wearing a string of skulls around his neck1 and holding in his hand two serpents1 these he threw across the stream1 and they became a bridge firm and strong4 ,so ,shd ,shnin passed over the torrent in safety1 but when he looked back1 snakes1 bridge1 and angel had vanished and only the rushing river remained4 ,then for a memory the two bridges were built in the very place of the crossing4 ,of all the marriages of ,art and ,nature the ,sacred ,red ,bridge of ,nikk is the most beautiful4 ,scattered among hills and trees and river1 beauty lay2 but this people coming through the mountains saw the one bond that had power to bind the pale blue hills1 the dark green gorge1 the stone-grey stream together in an ordered whole of deep-thought artistic loveliness1 planned1 perfect1 yet supremely natural4 ,then the avenue goes on1 up the foot of the hill1 till it widens and broadens into a great gravel circle before the entrance-gate of the temple4 ,here the great trees of the mountains spread out and up on either hand1 with the temple in their midst surrounded but not overwhelmed by the grace of the wood4 ,under the granite tor1 the first gateway is guarded by two figures1 the mythical lions gilded and lacquered2 while above1 the mysterious baku1 with his four ears and his nine tails1 who has power to eat all bad dreams that pass before sleeping eyes1 crouches alert4 ,a flight of granite steps leads to the first courtyard1 set at right angles to the gateway1 and paved with rounded grey pebbles from the stream4 ,here are all the minor buildings of the temple1 the stable for the sacred white horse1 the library for the two thousand sutra of the ,buddhist scriptures1 the tank-house for the purification1 the store-houses for the temple furniture2 and stable and library1 tank-house and store-houses are jewelled gems of carving and design1 so rich1 so splendid in the ordered magnificence of their colouring that western senses stand amazed4 ,a blood-red lacquered fence aglow with coloured carvings divides the temple from the sombre majesty of the giant cryptomerias4 ,then the pebbled space contracts into a flight of granite stairs1 and mounts between stone walls that end in painted friezes of carved wood to a second courtyard4 ,this is almost square1 and standing on the wide grey sweep of rounded pebbles are three bronze lanterns from the three tributary kingdoms of ,old ,japan--from ,korea1 ,luchu1 and ,holland2 and there in serried rows and ranged against the blood-red lacquered fence aglow with gilded carvings1 stand multitudes of bronze lanterns1 which the dead daimy of ,old ,japan sent as offerings to the temple4 ,beyond the lacquered fence the dark still stems of the pine-trees range out of sight4 ,then the pebbled space contracts again1 and a flight of granite steps leads between granite walls set with coloured friezes of carved wood to the third courtyard2 and the colourless pause of the second court1 with its bronze lanterns on grey stones1 gains a new meaning as one mounts1 for in the third courtyard1 between the blood-red friezes with their riotous coloured carvings1 is the pure perfection of the ,ymei-mon1 a double gateway1 of white lacquer1 cream-white and supported by four pillars of carved wood4 ,and when they put the fourth pillar in its place they planted it upside down fearing if the beauty of the temple were all-perfect1 evil might befall the house of ,tokugawa through the jealousy of high heaven4 ,and the stranger as he draws near pauses in sheer amazement2 the wild untamable beauty of the mighty temple set in its giant framework of dark green trees is strange beyond believing4 ,on either hand stretches the tropical splendour of the blood-red lacquered fence1 set with coloured carvings as with shining jewels4 ,behind is the pale glory of the ,ymei-mon4 ,all around the darkness of the forest lies like a still quiet tomb4 ,and in front1 rising in lines of sheer perfection1 is the white beauty of the ,chinese gate1 cream-white1 adorned with glittering yellow brass1 brass in rounded sunken medallions on the lintel and the gate-posts1 brass in quaint designs and shining points of yellow light1 which break about the whiteness as sunshine through a mist4 ,the carvings and the pattern1 the picture-panels1 the decorated eaves1 the chiselled heads and sculptured birds and beasts1 the growing1 glowing flowers1 the hanging lotus-bells that tinkle at the corners of the tent-curved roof1 and all perfect1 are more than a man's mind can perceive though he look for many years4 ,brains and money and labour were poured out here like mountain water1 and like the rushing stream of ,nikk the drops go unperceived in the beauty of the whole4 ,in the short space of forty years were the temple and its fences1 the gateways and the carvings1 completed and set up2 but forty short years from first to last1 and the carving of one gateway is more than a lifetime's work4 ,then the splendour culminates4 ,beyond the ,chinese gateway is the actual shrine itself1 its cream-white gateway studded too with brass1 while superb in the utter beauty of their carving1 two writhing dragons stretch on either hand between the door-post and the pillar4 ,inside is the temple of the memorial tablets1 where with daily rites the ,buddhist priests prayed for the soul of ,iyeyasu4 ,to-day the ,buddhist emblems are all gone1 the shrine is bare4 ,a shint rope of rice-straw stretches from post to post1 the mirror of the ,sun-,goddess shines above the altar for her son1 the 8,son of ,heaven0 ,tenshi1 the ,mikado1 has come back to his own4 ,all the magnificence of the temple now is in its walls1 walls of panel carvings where the springing phnix and the crouching lion rise like pale shadows from the pale unstained wood1 so little are they raised above the surface4 ,and yet the artist's hand that carved them was without a rival in the world4 ,they are real and living1 delicate and true1 and so entirely beautiful that the heart cries out with joy as at a long-lost good4 ,here is no colour1 the sweep of pale yellow matting1 the panelled walls of pale dust-coloured wood1 are more light than colour4 ,here the rich joy of sense is laid aside3 the temple stands a beauty immaterial4 ,through three hundred years they prayed for ,iyeyasu daily with long rites1 but his tomb is not here4 ,it lies beyond the temple and above it4 ,one climbs to it by a long1 steep stair of grey-green granite1 set in the sombre hill4 ,a stairway built of granite in long slabs1 so broad and thick that the balustrade with its coping1 base1 and sculptured columns is all cut from one solid block1 with each block fourteen feet long4 ,and the stairway took thirteen years to quarry and set up4 ,the hillside is steep1 the stairs are many1 and the tall dark pines1 the flame-red maples gather1 gather till the temple's roof1 the sound of praying bell or chanted hymn is lost4 ,the little space which ,art stole from ,nature is completely hidden1 even the forest has forgotten4 ,and the grey stair climbs1 climbs among the dark-green trees1 then stops4 ,on the top of the hill is a rounded curve of stately pines4 ,alone1 solitary between sky and trees1 stands the tomb of ,iyeyasu1 a domed pillar-box of bronze glinting golden through the trees4 ,a low stone wall surrounds the tomb1 a bronze door solid but uncarved is its gateway1 and that is all4 ,here among the quiet trees1 in the stillness of the forest1 above the splendour of the temple1 lie the ashes of the great ,iyeyasu4 ,all the days of his rule he dwelt among men1 but his soul climbed the steep stair of ,life1 casting off its splendours and its glories1 climbed above them1 climbed back into the eternal simplicity of ,nature1 and there he laid him down to rest4 ,,iv ,,kannon1 ,,lady ,,of ,,mercy ,it was the fte of ,kannon of ,asak'sa1 whose votaries are many4 ,they thronged the narrow paved pathway set between the two long rows of red brick stalls1 and overflowed into the temple grounds behind1 where the juggler and the wax-works1 the two-headed porpoise1 and the headless man1 and all the long scale of attractions in between shouted and drummed4 ,all the fun of the fair was here1 with the advantage of a petit bout de messe1 to save the soul1 over the way4 ,kannon of ,asak'sa is a popular lady1 and her doors stand wide open4 ,you may go in with your boots on4 ,it is true that the goddess herself1 on her gilded altar1 is railed off from public touch by a wire netting--like the animals in the menagerie outside4 ,but that is all the privacy she enjoys1 and the rest of her temple is as public as a railway station1 and just about as sacred4 ,the people pour in up the steps on all sides1 the scraping of their gheta on the dirty wooden floor adding its quota of noise to the chink of money and the buzz of voices1 the ringing of bells1 and the hurry and bustle of a surging railway crowd4 ,there is the same wide-open1 doorless feel1 the same discomforting1 amphibious sensation of neither open air nor closed house4 ,a large bookstall in the corner1 selling the latest illustrated numbers of the goddess1 and the whole stock of ,kannon literature adds to the illusion4 ,between two pillars a temple clerk issues tickets at a substantial booking-office4 ,a shaven official appears and rings a bell at intervals1 reciting a prayer in the voice of a railway porter proclaiming stations4 ,there is the same reasonless flux and reflux of the crowd1 the same rush and bustle1 with its inseparable accompaniment of underlying roar that rises and falls1 sometimes absorbing all the other sounds into itself1 sometimes leaving them distinct and clear1 but never for a moment ceasing4 ,a huge lacquered case like a square coffin1 its lid replaced by thick metal bars1 stands between the bookstall and the booking-office1 right against the wire netting4 ,into this each comer throws his coin before reciting his prayer1 and the chinking of the money as it falls is as unceasing as the roar of the crowd4 ,away in a corner behind the booking-office a worn-out black statue sits huddled in rags4 ,around it1 bands of invalids await their turn to rub the featureless figure with their hands1 and transfer the charm by rubbing themselves in the corresponding spot4 ,as a method of propagating disease1 this treatment for curing it can have few equals4 ,but the coffers of the temple profit greatly4 ,business1 indeed1 is brisk to-day4 ,the shaven-headed booking-clerk is issuing tickets at a bank-holiday rate1 and the bookstall is besieged4 ,up from all sides comes the tumult of the fair4 ,kannon must be a paying investment4 ,as ,i stand on the steps with the din of the temple behind me1 a man in the crowd below buys a cage of little birds at a stall1 and1 opening the door1 throws them up into the air4 ,the startled flutter of their wings as they soar up over the heads of the crowd into the blue carries me back to ,ober-,ammergau1 to the memory of the overturned tables of the money-changers1 and the overthrown cages of those who sold doves4 8,my house shall be called the house of prayer1 but ye have made it a den of thieves40 ,is human nature the same all the world over8 ,are priests8 ,or is the fate of all religions alike8 ,o ,kannon of ,asak'sa6 ,kannon1 ,lady of ,mercy6 how long must thou wait for thy deliverer8 ,o ,lord ,buddha1 how long8 ,v ,,rinzaki',s ,,altar ,on the edge of the dark hills is the temple of ,rinzaki1 and the green sea of the rice-fields washes up to its open doors4 ,overhead the grey sky of a sunless summer's evening dims all the colours in the land1 and leaves them shadows4 ,it is fresh and still1 and the wide1 green bay sweeps in smooth curves to the foot of the dark hills4 ,on the pathway the hosts of little green frogs hop like hailstones1 and the startled splash as they fall back into the rice-fields is sharp and clear4 ,rinzaki stands alone1 its shji walls pushed back1 and the slender1 square pillars at each corner are dark against the greyness4 ,the open matted spaces of the temple are deserted1 and the stillness is pure and clear as freshly running water4 ,in the sunless evening light the sombre colours of the temple are but light and shadow1 a sweep of pale matting under a dark roof framed in grey4 ,and the stillness grows purer1 clearer1 and more still4 ,beyond the open spaces of the matting1 between altar wall and altar wall1 the garden of the temple hangs1 a living picture on the wall4 ,two kneeling-cushions on the matting mark the purpose of the garden1 and ,i stay to look4 ,a faintly running stream1 stone-grey1 a shaven slope of green1 and on it three clipped azalea-bushes pink with blossom4 ,so still1 so clear1 ,i stretch my hand to feel4 ,it is a garden--a garden painted by an artist who worked in earth and flowers4 ,and the dim greyness of the temple1 the pale spaces of the matting1 frame the garden as a shell its pearl4 ,i could but look4 ,the pale pink of the azalea-bushes1 the soft curve of the slope1 the stone-grey of the running stream1 were painted with the loving care1 the certain touch of a master's hand4 ,there was no fault4 ,between altar wall and altar wall the living picture hung--perfect4 ,like ,david's harping to ,saul distraught1 the stillness of the garden1 the dim greyness of the temple1 washed pure the heart4 ,the sin-freed soul floated out unfettered1 and thought was not4 ,alone the garden lay1 an earthly ,nirvana in the stillness4 ,rinzaki's true altar stood here4 ,,vi ,,two ,,creeds ,above the white cloud of the plum-blossoms1 through the dark wood of the cryptomerias1 on the top of the hill lies the temple of ,ikkgami4 ,the broad spaces of its courtyards and its gardens are sunny and still1 and the blue sky above is a bed of celestial forget-me-nots4 ,down each side the big1 dark trunks of the giant fir-trees stand straight and tall--two rows of sombre pillars1 shutting in a sunny aisle4 ,in front1 at the end of the wandering white path of rounded stones sunk into the bare earth1 is the ,hond or main building with the tent curves of its roof1 and the polished floor of its veranda shining like a sword in the sun4 ,behind is the big wooden gateway1 and the hundred stone steps which lead from the hilltop to the village beneath4 ,and scattered down the wide earth courtyard1 and half hidden under the dark arches of the trees1 are the innumerable little buildings which form the complete whole of a ,buddhist temple2 the belfry1 with its bronze bell hung from the big wooden beam of the ceiling to within three feet of the ground1 and the polished wooden spar with which it is beaten2 the quaint revolving library--like a dwarf windmill without sails--where the hundred volumes of the ,buddhist ,scripture can be dimly seen through the thick wooden lattice2 the wide granite tank under its tiled roof1 all hung with lengths of brown temple towels1 where the faithful pour water over their hands from bamboo dippers as a symbol of purification2 the side chapels with their drums and offerings4 ,all are quiet to-day and deserted1 only by the side of the tank1 in front of a worn-out stone statue1 a peasant mother is standing1 her baby tucked in the back of her kimono--fast asleep4 ,she claps her hands three times to call the attention of the gods1 and then she prays1 and the baby's shaven head nods heavily over her shoulder4 ,then she takes the bamboo dipper and pours water over the head of the stone statue1 carefully1 that not a dry spot may remain1 and prays again4 ,between the dark pillars of the tree-trunks and the stamped earth of the courtyard1 a line of narrow1 pointed laths runs like a wooden fencing round the temple precincts4 ,i wonder what they are and leave the stepping-stones of the pathway to see4 ,tombstones8 ,yes4 ,set close together1 and sometimes three or four deep1 the long line of thin pointed laths closes in the temple and its courtyard with a fence of graves4 ,not a rich man's graveyard this1 but the last home of the peasants from the rice-fields and the fishermen from the sea4 ,i look at the rows of ,chinese characters running lengthwise down the narrow tombstones1 and stop in wonder1 for on one the ,roman letters with their familiar outlines stand out plainly4 8,to the ,men of the ,warship ,onega40 ,that is all4 ,to the men of the ,warship ,onega6 ,it was true then the story4 ,the story of the loss of the ,onega in the bay below1 and the sale of the sunken wreck with all its contents to fishermen along the coast4 ,the story of the finding of the corpses of the drowned sailors1 all entangled among the wreckage1 and of how the ,japanese fishermen collected them reverently1 saying1 with the faith of the ancient ,greeks1 that their souls would wander restless and distressed unless they were laid in their graves and the funeral prayers sung over them4 ,so they sent a petition to the great ,ijin ,san in ,tokyo praying him to come to the temple of ,ikkgami1 that his dead brothers might have some one of their own race1 if not of their own family1 to perform the last solemn rites4 ,and the ,ambassador came to ,ikkgami1 and the long line of weather-beaten ,japanese fishermen bore the western sailors up the hill to the temple1 and buried them in the courtyard1 under the silent trees1 with all the rites of the ,buddhist church4 ,and they set up the wooden lath as over the grave of a brother1 among the long lines of the tombstones of their fathers2 but they wrote on it in the tongue of the stranger so that ,god and their countrymen might know their own again4 ,and all this they did out of their own hearts1 and with the money of their own earning4 ,so the men of ,onega lie buried with ,buddhist rites in a ,buddhist churchyard1 and the wooden lath above their graves is but another rail in the holy fence of the ,japanese dead which encloses the temple4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the long arches of the sombre trees are dark and still4 ,the blue sky above is without fleck or stain1 and the peace of ,god which passeth all understanding is spread as a hand above the tree-tops4 ,the men of the ,onega sleep well4 ,,vii ,,the ,,legend ,,of ,,the ,,noseless ,,jiz ,it was a great many years ago1 but the stone ,jiz stands there yet1 just on the edge of the woods beyond the rice-fields4 ,the blue cotton bib around his neck is new1 the odd little piles of stones that balance on his shoulders1 cuddle in his arms1 or lie around his feet are larger1 for kindly hearts have passed by since then1 to pick up a stone and carry it to ,jiz1 who helps the souls of the little dead children crying naked on the banks of the ,sai-no-,kawara1 because the old hag ,shozuka-no-,baba has taken their clothes away1 and will not let them pass over into the happy land beyond1 but keeps them piling stones on the banks of the ,buddhist ,styx1 and crying bitterly4 ,and ,jiz sits there by the roadside still1 the same benevolent smile on his shaven face1 still holding the pilgrim's staff with its metal rings in one hand1 and the jewel which brings all wisdom in the other4 ,only he has no nose4 ,he lost it thirty years ago1 the day little ,dicky ,james came running up the road1 his new hatchet clutched in his hand4 ,now ,dicky was the son of a missionary1 and he had been brought up on good books and ,sunday schools1 and the night before he had been taken to hear the wonderful experiences of a 8brother0 from ,china1 who had filled his little head full of 8glorious martyrdom10 8sinful heathen10 8the overthrowing of idols10 and 8the abomination of desolation10 which ,dicky didn't understand but thought meant the long stretch of muddy rice-fields down beyond ,negishi4 ,and that put ,jiz into his head4 ,and besides1 there was the new hatchet4 ,all the morning he had played ,red ,indians1 until1 in an access of realism1 he had almost brained the baby4 ,the threatened loss of his hatchet and the great idea that was working in his head made him quiet and subdued all through dinner4 ,he was sorry about baby1 8poor little martyr10 as his mother called her2 and the idea grew and grew4 ,why shouldn't he be a martyr too1 and return to his family covered with glory8 ,then the thought of ,jiz jumped into his head4 ,he would go out1 like the 8brother0 from ,china1 into the 8abomination of desolation10 and 8overturn the idol0 of the 8sinful heathen40 ,or1 at least1 if he couldn't overturn it1 the new hatchet would cut off its head1 and ,dicky's fingers itched to try4 ,he had no idea martyrdom was so interesting4 ,so1 dinner over1 ,dicky seized his hatchet1 and started off1 away from the settlement1 across the canal1 up by the racecourse1 and down the hill towards ,negishi4 ,here he took to the shore1 to avoid complications in the village2 for ,dicky was used to showing his ,christian superiority by cuffing the heads of the heathen1 and the boys of ,negishi were his particular enemies4 ,so the tide being out he kept to the shore until he was past the village1 and the long stretch of rice-fields1 nothing but solid ponds of black mud1 each surrounded by a little1 low1 mud bank1 came into sight4 8,the abomination of desolation10 said ,dicky4 ,and it did look like it4 ,he went on along the narrow path towards the hills1 with the wide stretch of muddy ponds on each side of him4 ,they dwindled away gradually as ,dicky went up the valley1 dwindled away until they only looked like a kind of mud river running between the green hills4 ,and there beyond the last one1 on the edge of the hill1 was ,jiz4 ,jiz1 with his broad smile and his funny little bib4 ,dicky looked about him nervously2 the great moment had come4 ,no1 there was no one in the rice-fields1 and no one coming after him from the village2 and ,jiz's smile was tempting4 ,up went the little hatchet and smash down with all ,dicky's strength4 ,but ,jiz's head did not roll in the dust1 as it ought to have done1 so ,dicky tried again4 ,he was getting excited now4 ,it was so beautiful to feel his dear hatchet coming down smash1 smash1 smash1 and to know he was doing the 8good work0 at the same time4 ,smash1 smash6 ,this time something had smashed1 and ,jiz's stone nose lay at his feet4 ,dicky stooped to pick it up1 exultant1 and in the momentary pause heard angry voices among the fields1 and feet coming swiftly up the road behind him4 ,then ,dicky forgot all about 8martyrdom0 and ran as fast as he could go1 across the bank of the rice-field in front of him1 up the hill beyond1 his hatchet clutched in one hand1 and ,jiz's stone nose in the other4 ,it was the rice-field that saved him1 because the men had to go round1 but their shouts brought out the village1 and the sight of ,jiz1 noseless1 sent all the angry 8heathen0 up the hill in chase4 ,i do not think they would have hurt him if they had caught him1 for the ,japanese are not fanatical1 and they are very kind to children4 ,it was just this feeling that made them so angry now4 ,to think that any one could injure ,jiz2 ,jiz the friend of those in trouble1 the comforter of women in travail1 and the keeper of the baby souls crying naked on the dark banks of the ,sai-no-,kawara4 ,i do not think they would have hurt ,dicky1 but the whole village came out to see1 and the men and boys ran up the hills around shouting3 8,nan des ka8 ,nan des ka8 ,what is it8 ,what is it80 ,and ,dicky in his terror ran until his little legs gave way under him1 and panting he threw himself on the ground under the trees4 ,the shouts had died away a long while1 and it was growing dark in the wood before ,dicky stirred4 ,it was darker still when at last he crept cautiously down the hill and over the rice-fields towards the stone statue of ,jiz4 ,he was very tired now1 and very hungry1 but the memory of the angry voices calling after him in the hills made him afraid to go back through the village1 and by this time the tide was up4 ,so ,dicky sat down by the side of ,jiz in the growing darkness and waited4 ,and all his nurse's stories of ,jiz and the little children came into his mind4 ,he looked up at ,jiz1 smiling still his large benevolent smile1 and crept nearer4 99 99 99 99 99 ,it was quite dark that evening when they found ,dicky1 his head peacefully laid to sleep on ,jiz's feet1 utterly worn out with the pangs and the excitement of his martyrdom1 his little hatchet fallen on the ground1 but one grubby fist fast clutching something that even in his sleep he held tight4 ,but ,dicky's taste for martyrdom had gone1 and once1 to his father's horror1 he was heard to declare that he 8wished he was a heathen because he would like to say his prayers to ,jiz40 ,in the deepest depths of his pocket1 next to his clasp-knife and his favourite ally taw1 there lived for many years a small stone object that he sometimes took out and looked at when he was quite alone4 ,and ,dicky had serious doubts at times about the goodness of the martyrs1 and the sinfulness of the heathen1 while his ideas on idols underwent a radical change4 ,it is thirty years ago now4 ,but the legend of the noseless ,jiz and his fight with the ,onigo 7the devil in the shape of a child7 is still told in the villages around ,negishi4 ,the other day ,richard heard it himself4 ,,viii ,,the ,,temples ,,of ,,shiba ,a matchless blue sky overarches the world1 pale1 clear1 intense1 and the twisted green boughs of the ,japanese pine throw their gaunt1 black arms up into the blue1 in the vain endeavour of a hundred years to reach it4 ,the hush of cloistered calm in which the trees grew up is still here1 although the ,tokyo citizen walks and rides where once none but ,buddhist priests might linger4 ,the ,red ,gateway1 with the tent curves of its roof petrified into grey tiles1 still claims for all within ,buddha as its master4 ,and the hush of cloistered calm grows stiller4 ,through a wide space open to the sky1 a space paved with rounded pebbles1 water-washed for many years ere they floored the courtyard of the ,house of ,god1 believing and unbelieving feet have beaten smooth a wide1 brown pathway4 ,all around1 and arranged in serried rows1 stand a myriad grey-stone lanterns1 the pious gifts of dead daimy4 ,between these tall stone emblems of the five elements the pathway runs2 cupola1 crescent1 pyramid1 sphere1 cube--ether1 air1 fire1 water1 earth--and the crude shapes of the primitive elements1 touched and altered by generations of artists1 are turned to curves of quaintest beauty4 ,diagonally across the space goes the black pathway1 the standing rows of tall lanterns thickly set on either side1 until beneath another gate it makes a pause4 ,a gate of red lacquer this1 with carvings of gilded wood on ceiling and wall4 ,carvings full of that oriental luxuriance of colour and line which half shocks our sober northern senses2 so shocks them sometimes that we call it scornfully 8barbaric10 until we grow wiser with much looking and learn to see the truth and beauty of this exuberant splendour4 ,beyond the gateway1 the black path leads out under the blue sky1 a pebbled square on either hand1 set round with stately rows of bronze lanterns1 the pious gifts of yet greater daimy4 ,another gate stands waiting at the end of the pebbled square1 a gateway with rounded wooden columns of red lacquer1 like its fellow1 and carvings of gold4 ,but the beams of its ceiling have been smoothed away1 and in the centre a much twisted and curled dragon1 which1 like ,joseph's coat1 is of many colours1 writhes across the ceiling4 ,a carved and gilded gallery stretches away on either side past the gateway4 ,another yet more beautiful1 with its slender square pillars of red lacquer bound at base and crown with beaten brass1 leads a rainbow shadow through the sunny court to the cool dark door of the temple itself4 ,in the shade of the gilded galleries1 suspended from the red-lacquered cross-beams1 hangs a row of still bronze lanterns4 ,dimly in their exquisite shapes can one trace the symbolised elements4 ,behind a wooden barrier five steps lead straight to the temple's front1 closed now with dark blinds of split bamboo bound together with a silken thread4 ,the tiled eaves of the curving roof overhang the steps1 and between door and lacquered pillar writhes in many wriggles of green and golden carving two royal dragons1 the ,ascending and the ,descending--the going-up and the coming-down4 ,leaning on the barrier1 the glory of those golden dragons1 of those red columns1 of the carved beams and inlaid porch rushed riotously into the soul4 ,and now one understood the preparation of those successive gateways1 set each between a sunny space of pebbled court2 for the first had shown but red and gold1 up in the ceiling of the second lingered lines of azure blue1 the third added green to the other three1 the gallery gave glances of mauve and violet1 while here1 under the eaves of the temple roof1 the rainbow itself is glorious in carved wood4 ,a culminating point of colour and splendour1 what can the temple hold within8 ,cool spaces of matted floor set round with black boxes on black stools1 each box holding its portion of ,buddhist ,scripture2 sombre pennants of dark blue and green brocade upon the walls2 a sober light clear but colourless2 and which is more beautiful1 the rainbow porch of many colours riotous in carving and scrolls1 or the sober quiet of the temple1 a beauty of spaces and restraint8 ,the colourless matted room is wide and low4 ,in front between the sombre pennants is the inner sanctuary4 ,gods on either side on lacquered tables set against the walls2 at the end1 beyond more lacquered tables1 two brocaded masses rise like square coffins on a raised das2 between stand figures of the gods1 white-faced ,benten and ,kannon1 ,lady of ,mercy4 ,the red tables bear many-coloured sweets and biscuits heaped high on metal plates1 in metal cups2 offerings to the spirits of the dead ,shgun whose tablets lie enshrined behind those masses of brocade4 ,a bronze bowl on the floor filled with grey ash sends forth filmy clouds of incense4 ,there is no sound4 ,behind the temple1 through two open spaces of pebbled squares1 each reached by a score of granite steps1 is the tomb2 a smooth1 round mass of stone encircled with a breast-high parapet of bronze2 all around a sweep of grey pebbles4 ,that is all4 ,and yet standing here ,i wonder whether the dead ,shgun have not rightly chosen8 ,whether their resting-place is not more truly beautiful than the beauty of sombre ornament in the temple1 than the riotous carving of the gateways4 ,the porch was ,beauty's body1 arrayed1 adorned2 here lies ,beauty's soul1 naked and eternal4 ,,ix ,,amida ,,butsu ,buddhism is not one but many2 the same faith and the same nation which produces the squalor1 dirt and commercial profanity of ,asak'sa can create the peace and purity of ,rinzaki1 while ,shiba's riot of impossible colouring is born of the same religion and the same people as the stern beauty of the ,hongwanji2 for the temples of the ,shin sect are severe as a ,protestant cathedral1 as a ,presbyterian church1 only they are built by a race of artists4 ,kannon of ,asak'sa is popular1 but the beautiful ,hongwanji at ,kyoto1 finished a few years ago1 at a cost of eight million yen1 was built mainly by the peasants1 who contributed not only in money but in kind1 sending their most beautiful trees to be cut into beams1 offering themselves to hew and to build1 giving always of their best4 ,and each beam was raised to its place by long hawsers made of women's hair1 the soft black hair of youth or womanhood1 with here and there the shrivelled grey hairs of age4 ,and the hawsers are suspended in the temple for men and missionaries to ponder on4 ,buddhism is not dead but living4 ,the old1 the weary1 and the poorest poor creep into the ,hongwanji in ,japan1 and the pale matting of these temples is covered with the square-holed copper coins worth a quarter of a farthing1 which they roll over the matting towards the altar from the corners where they kneel and pray4 99 99 99 99 99 ,nagoya's ,hongwanji is the glory of the town4 ,it stands in the thick of the city1 in a great wide courtyard of stamped earth set round with trees4 ,its sculptured gates of bronze are always open1 and once inside them the busy town with its factories and its workshops1 its quarter of a million of inhabitants1 is gone1 for the wide courtyard sets a lavish space of stillness between the city and the shrine4 ,a space so wide and ample that the temple's curves stand out clear and sharp as a solitary tower on an empty plain4 ,built all of wood1 unpainted1 unstained2 and so faded by the sunshine1 so worn with age1 and weather beaten with the wind and rain1 that in the glow of the summer's sun the temple stands against the brilliant light faded and grey1 a beauty of pathos1 not of joy4 ,under the eaves the saints and sacred animals are carved in tender lines of love4 ,age has touched and left them colourless1 and the infinite pity of the ,buddha which enwraps creation1 enfolding man and his brother the beast1 looks from their eyes4 ,inside there is peace and sober quiet4 ,a wide low space suggestively divided into three with slender square pillars of wood1 and behind1 along the whole width of the temple a blaze of gold1 sombre and rich4 ,no riot of impossible colouring here1 no profusion of design and decoration2 sober1 almost stern in its beauty1 the centre and the two side altars shine in the dim light4 ,a bronze figure of ,buddha1 dead black against the gold1 stands on his lotus-leaf with uplifted hands4 ,it is ,buddha as the ,god of ,mercy1 the living1 loving god1 ,amida ,butsu--,eternal ,buddha4 ,dull gold and black1 alive in the altar1 shadowly repeated in the pale yellow matting and in the grey age-stained wood1 are all the decoration of the temple1 save perfect purity and peace1 and an atmosphere of quiet1 enduring charity4 ,for the ,shin sect teaches that the law cannot be altered1 that the eternal chain of cause and effect goes always and for ever on1 that the wages and more than the wages of sin is death1 that an act and its consequences roll ever onward through the world1 and neither man nor time can stay them2 it teaches that a man's sorrows are made by his sins1 but that ,buddha is merciful and just1 that he who is love gives love2 love knows no sin1 nor sin's child1 sorrow2 without sin and sorrow is the world at rest4 99 99 99 99 99 ,outside1 the city labours1 toils4 ,within1 the workers kneel on the pure pale matting1 and praying1 roll their square-holed coins towards the image of ,eternal ,buddha1 whose hand is raised to bless4 ,x ,,saint ,,nichiren ,up a hundred steep stone steps lies the temple of the ,lord ,buddha1 for ,nichiren1 his servant1 whose head the executioner's sword refused to cut off1 died here4 ,now ,nichiren was a man of faith4 ,and his faith was the faith of the average man--he knew he was right4 ,but ,nichiren did more1 for he had the courage of his opinions2 and he said1 8,i alone am right2 the rest are all wrong1 unfaithful servants of the ,lord--kill them40 ,and the people believed ,nichiren1 for is not such faith in one's own opinion a sign of divine inspiration8 ,and did not the ,lord ,buddha send lightning from ,heaven to turn the edge of the executioner's sword and save his pious servant8 ,so they followed after ,nichiren and despised the rest of the church1 and built temples of the true faith throughout the length and breadth of the land4 ,and the priests of ,nichiren walked in the steps of their master1 and are--for the tolerant ,japanese--almost bigoted and fanatical4 ,now the ,nichiren priests delight in noise4 ,perhaps they think--like many a politician--that it takes the place of argument4 ,and so their temples for ever re-echo with the banging of big drums1 the clapping of wooden clappers1 the booming of big bells1 and the eternal chanting of the ,namu-myho-rengeky1 the formula of the faith of ,nichiren4 ,in the little side temple to the left1 wreathed with paper flowers and cheap ornaments--for ,nichiren has even strength to blur the national sense of art--they are busy now4 ,a priest in the middle crouches on the ground2 on either side1 before a big drum like a yellow barrel lying horizontally on the ground1 sit two believers4 ,behind are grouped three more1 all provided with clappers or bells4 ,the drumming is incessant1 the clapping nearly so1 while all1 priests and people1 keep up one never-ending drone of 8,namu-myho-rengeky1 ,namu-myho-rengeky1 ,namu-myho-rengeky40 ,i can only see the backs of the group1 and the arms of the two drummers as they raise them up above their heads to beat the big barrels in front of them4 ,suddenly1 from round the corner of the drum1 an old face peers--priest by its costume and its cunning4 ,an unshaven1 unkempt face that blinks--dirty1 ignorant1 bigoted4 ,it crouches there on the matting1 the old cunning eyes opening and shutting with each repetition of the never-ending formula1 8,namu-myho-rengeky1 ,namu-myho-rengeky1 ,namu-myho-rengeky10 until sense and meaning are lost in a wave of wild1 brute fanaticism4 ,the drums bang louder1 the clappers clap shriller1 the bells boom quicker and quicker1 and ,i stand there convinced4 ,namu-myho-rengeky1 ,namu-myho-rengeky1 ,namu-myho-rengeky4 ,i too am of the faith of ,nichiren1 for ,i know that ,i am right4 ,all these are wrong1 unfaithful servants of the ,lord--kill them4 ,,xi ,,between ,,earth ,,and ,,heaven ,five hundred feet of wall1 and the temple's courtyard hangs a balcony above the world4 ,the thousand steps by which ,i climbed are hidden1 and the chaya1 in the width of the brown road that touches cliff and sea1 is so beneath my feet that its roof seems resting on the ground4 ,my kurumaya1 in his white hat1 is a growing mushroom on a dark blue stalk4 ,the man is but a human atom crushed between two immensities4 ,from cliff to distant sky the wide sea spreads out1 a vast still plain of shimmering blue4 ,this ball of earth is rolled out flat before my eyes1 and its mysterious ends are a far-off rim1 dark blue and clear4 ,overhead the burnished sky shuts down a domed cover on the flattened earth4 ,the very sea seems hot4 ,my kurumaya1 sitting on the slender shafts of his jinriksha1 fans himself with his hat1 and ,i am startled to see how perfectly the three-inch figure works4 ,the world lies all spread out below me1 here is nothing but the temple and the sun4 ,across the burning courtyard where the sun smites the rounded pebbles with hard shafts of light1 and through the open doorway in the temple's wall1 ,i go1 and then the silent shadows of the trees fall all around4 ,the sky above their tops is bluer1 the very sunlight brighter for the shade4 ,the temple's shrine is built upon a polished raft of wood1 moored three feet above the ground4 ,its walls are dark with matted blind4 ,only the square door-posts stand clear against the light1 and through them ,i see the bareness of the shrine--a sweep of pale matting on the floor1 and then dim space4 ,alone1 the burnished mirror of the great ,sun-,goddess hangs above the altar4 ,on the threshold of his temple stands the high priest1 attended by two acolytes4 ,he wears a head-dress of black lacquer like a perforated meat-cover1 but the face beneath is old and very calm4 ,he bows as ,i mount the shallow polished steps which lead up from the ground1 takes from the black-robed acolyte a slender silver vase1 and a shallow terra-cotta bowl4 ,standing shoeless on the threshold of the naked shrine he slowly pours the sacred sak from the silver vase into the terra-cotta bowl1 and gives me to drink4 ,the bowl is black with age1 the sak thick1 like distilled honey2 and ,i notice1 as ,i drink1 the carved figures running round the rim1 and the faint scent of plum-blossom4 ,without a word the white-robed priest takes back the cup1 and offers me a thin rice-wafer which ,i break and eat4 ,i wonder what the rite may mean that ,i1 a stranger1 may partake1 and look up to see the calm old eyes looking down at me1 at my outlandish clothes and foreign face2 but he does not speak4 ,then with a gesture which is almost a blessing1 the white-robed priest is gone1 and the acolytes follow after4 ,the temple's shrine stands bare and bare1 only the burnished mirror of the great ,sun-,goddess glitters4 ,was it a ,passover that we have eaten together8 ,or a ,eucharist8 ,or merely the symbol of our human brotherhood8 ,we are all children of the ,sun2 and ,faith is ,one4 ,yet it needed a ,shint priest in far ,japan to show me a religion above nation1 beyond race1 above sect4 ,but his shrine is bare4 ,the ,mirror of ,truth hangs solitary above his altar1 and his temple's doors are open to the ,sun4 ,,xii ,,inari1 ,,the ,,fox-,,god ,the green tongue of the rice-fields thrusts itself deep into the blue sea1 and its tip is lacquered red4 ,haneda-no-,inari is a temple whose gateways have swallowed up its shrine1 and on the low1 flat1 headland its many thousand tor in rows of scarlet dolmens walk inland from the sea4 ,the green point lies a henna-stained finger in the lap of the ocean4 ,beyond the red tip1 a ridge of pearl-grey sky rests on the water1 while overhead the clouds1 like piled-up snowflakes1 melt into the blue4 ,it is the end of ,september1 and wide through the land the rustle of ripening rice-ears comes and goes4 ,haneda-no-,inari1 the ,rice-,god1 is calling the peasants to his shrine4 ,and they come2 broad-shouldered1 bullet-headed men1 in short1 blue tunics and dark blue hose1 with brown weather-beaten faces1 seamed and lined2 and always their hard hands1 half shut1 half open1 as though still holding hoe or plough4 ,old most of them1 and with that half-deaf look which years of fieldwork brings4 ,intelligences half shut too1 shutting fast on the primary ideas of life1 on the traditions of their fathers2 for a thought1 like the hoe or plough1 is too precious a thing to be lightly laid aside2 it is bequeathed from generation to generation as are the rice-fields beneath their feet4 ,inari calls1 and the peasants come4 ,not only for the sake of the ,rice-,god1 though the rustle of the ripening rice-ears is a music in the land1 but because the image of the fox has dwelt so long in the ,rice-,god's temple that to the peasant ,inari is both ,fox-and ,rice-,god4 ,and the fear of the ,kitsun is a power in ,japan4 ,the ,kitsun1 who can take a woman's shape and bewitch you2 the ,kitsun1 who can beguile a man that he follow to the fox's very hole and stay there living on snails and worms4 ,the ,kitsun1 who1 entering a man's body under his finger-nails1 will possess it1 so that he howls like a fox1 slowly changes into one1 and dies4 ,and so they come to the temple1 up from the rice-fields1 up under the scarlet tunnels of the tor1 for the passing through each tunnel means a wish fulfilled4 ,the gateways indeed have swallowed up this shrine4 ,there is no temple1 only a low matted booth2 at the back two white china images of the ,fox-,god1 his tail curled high above his head1 and a priest on the matting1 as a shopman at his stall1 selling charms1 multitudes of miniature china foxes1 words on rice-paper1 and mounds of earth1 a whole shopful of charms and amulets4 ,opposite is a row of rabbit burrows1 each roofed with a shelving stone2 just a hole in the ground1 but full of meaning to the peasant1 for it is the home of the ,kitsun1 and he crouches on the ground in front of it1 his head between his knees1 or thrust far into the big burrow in the eagerness of his prayer4 ,and his face works2 the priest behind him watches4 ,kitsun is a reality to him1 a force strong as ,nature's laws1 but capricious2 so he prays4 ,then half in fear1 half in reverence1 he thrusts one arm as far as it will go into the hole1 and scraping softly brings back a handful of brown earth4 ,his face lights up1 and the priest behind leans forward4 ,still on his knees the peasant wraps the magic earth in layers of clean rice-paper and puts it carefully away in the breast of his patched tunic4 ,then he gets up4 ,he has his charm1 a remedy against sickness and disaster1 a charm for his rice-fields and himself4 ,the priest behind reaches out his hand4 ,he makes a keen shopkeeper1 and his celestial wares are never stolen4 ,the temple terms are 8cash down1 and prayers not taken in exchange40 ,through the long scarlet tunnels of the tor1 back to the ripening rice-fields the peasants go4 ,the green point lies a henna-stained finger in the lap of the ocean4 ,haneda-no-,inari1 the temple of the superstitious1 glows a living tip of red4 ,for its sins are as scarlet4 ,,xiii ,,the ,,altar ,,of ,,fire ,it all happened in a suburban temple in the town of ,tokyo1 at the time of the blossoming cherry-trees2 and the prosaic din of a modern city full of trains and tramcars hemmed us round4 ,we had been conscious of it dimly throughout the long ceremonial within the temple1 where ,shint priests in brocaded robes chanted in twos and threes1 in solo and in chorus2 where the old ,high ,priest had blessed with long strange rites the four elements1 earth1 which is the mother of all things1 fire1 water1 air2 had blessed the rice by which the people live1 salt1 and sak2 but now that we were all assembled in the outer courtyard the noise of a busy city came distinctly to the ear4 ,tokyo was working hard this ,april afternoon1 and the cries of the newspaper boys pierced up shrilly from the street below4 ,in the courtyard the ancient vestments of the priests showed strangely beside the modern frocks of ,american visitors1 the tweed suits of a party of ,cook's tourists1 even beside the kimono of the ,japanese crowd1 so markedly ,tokyo and ,meiji 7age of enlightenment71 in their felt hats1 cloth caps1 and 8bowlers40 ,the courtyard was big1 the native crowd railed in at one end left a large space bare1 and here in the centre of the stamped brown earth a great pile of burning charcoal was heaped4 ,twenty feet long1 and nearly as many broad1 it glowed a solid mass of quivering heat1 while priests at each corner stood fanning the sullen red to an ever fiercer flame4 ,it was not hot enough yet1 and in the sunshine of that ,april afternoon we waited4 ,at the further end of the courtyard a broad band of salt lay on the brown earth like a white step to the altar4 ,the great fans of the fanning priests sent puffs of heat across the court that made the distinguished guests shrink back4 ,and yet the glowing charcoal pyre was not hot enough4 ,behind us1 in a corner of the courtyard1 stood a bamboo ladder1 whose every rung was made of the razor-blade of a ,japanese sword1 set edge upwards4 ,as we all stood waiting1 watching the solid altar of red flame grow redder1 a young man came out of the temple and crossed the court4 ,he was dressed in the short white tunic of religious festivals1 and his legs and feet were bare4 ,he bowed to the party of distinguished guests1 to the priests1 to the old ,high ,priest1 and from his manner ,i judged him not a priest1 but a temple attendant4 ,among the crowd there was a murmur1 a sway of intense excitement1 and then a dead stillness4 ,in the stillness the young man put his bare foot upon the lowest rung of the ladder1 and an involuntary shudder went through us all4 ,a large-checked tourist1 pushing every one aside1 rushed up to the ladder1 and felt a sword-rung with his hand4 ,then he came back1 and across his open palm a ruled red line of blood rose up swiftly4 ,there was a whispering among the priests1 a commotion in the crowd1 but the polite expressions of regret from the old ,high ,priest were courtly with honorifics4 ,the large-checked tourist tied his hand up clumsily in his own pocket-handkerchief1 and looked annoyed4 ,the fanning priests1 with rhythmic movements of their hands and bodies1 chased the living heat across the court1 and did not pause4 ,again there was a murmur in the crowd1 a stretching of necks to see1 and a dead silence4 ,the white-tuniced attendant1 who had stood quite still beside the ladder1 placed his bare foot upon the lowest rung1 and ,i saw the large-checked tourist wince as though his injured hand were there instead4 ,lightly as a sailor climbs1 the young man ran up the ladder rung by rung1 and neither hands nor feet grew red4 ,on the top he stayed1 looking down1 and a shudder like a cry of pain went through the courtyard4 ,then he turned1 hanging for one brief moment by his knees on the topmost rung--turned1 and came down again4 ,in the ,april sunshine the sword-blades1 from top to bottom of the ladder1 glittered spotless4 ,firmly on his bare1 brown feet the young man walked across the court1 bowed to the party of distinguished visitors1 to the priests1 to the old ,high ,priest1 and disappeared within the temple4 ,the crowd behind the railings exclaimed in admiration1 but the distinguished visitors were above surprise4 ,the party of ,cook's tourists who had just 8done0 ,india were full of explanations4 ,it was 8mere jugglery10 they said1 though each man differed in his theory4 ,one was eloquent on hypnotic suggestion1 and though the damaged tourist1 his hand still bound up1 8couldn't go so far as that1 sir10 was not to be persuaded4 ,the injured tourist had apparently only been hypnotised a little more effectually than the rest of us4 ,the ,american guests favoured 8acrobatic training from infancy10 which 8made the bones just like jelly40 ,somebody said he had heard it was 8done with oil10 but was quite vague as to the how1 and all the more insistent in consequence4 ,and so we explained and argued while the level rays of sunshine fell on the spotless sword-rungs of the ladder1 and on the vestments of the ,shint priests4 ,they had watched and were impassive4 ,the climbing of the ladder was not a sacred ceremony1 not a rite1 rather an amusement allowed the multitude1 as the ,catholic ,church offered jongleries in the ,middle ,ages4 ,but as the sun fell lower and lower in the ,april sky1 a hush came among the little group of priests1 and growing1 travelled slowly over the courtyard4 ,even the damaged tourist stopped his explanations4 ,the great red altar of heat that lay a fallen pillar of fire across the courtyard was glowing now white-hot with life4 ,the fanning priests at each corner had moved further back to escape the scorch of the flames1 but still they fanned4 ,in waves and gusts the heat was borne across the court1 to flicker1 as it were1 upon the air1 steady itself and then drive solidly forward4 ,the ,cook's tourists who had seized upon the front row of seats1 twisted uneasily on their chairs1 unwilling to give up their 8best places10 unable to endure the burning4 ,but the fierce scorch of the heat came steadily onwards1 and before it the tourists ran1 dragging their chairs after them4 ,still the fanning priests fanned on1 chasing the quivering flames on the red altar of heat1 till it pulsed with a white-hot breath like a thing alive4 ,in the pale ,april sky the swift sun was dropping golden through the last arcs of heaven to a grey band of clouds upon the horizon4 ,in half an hour it would be night4 ,there was a stir in the crowd beyond the barriers2 the fanning priests beat out their rhythm slowly1 and with the shadows the gathering sense of awe deepened4 ,only the altar of heat burned brighter1 gathering to itself all the colour from the world4 ,apart from the crowd the ,high ,priest stood1 the gold on his vestment gleaming1 and he watched the sun4 ,the peace upon his face was like an unsaid prayer4 ,did his soul go out to ,amaterasu1 the great ,sun-,goddess8 ,swiftly the sun dropped through the bank of clouds leaving them golden1 showed a red circle on the horizon1 and passed beneath4 ,the faintest flicker of emotion stirred for a moment the grave reverence of the old man's face4 ,then he turned4 ,the rhythmic beating of the fanning priests died into silence4 ,the red altar stood a burning fiery furnace in the courtyard1 where already twilight was4 ,he spoke no word1 but the religious calm of a perfect trust was in all his being4 ,it touched the straining multitude behind the barriers1 even the tourists in their chairs4 ,breathless we stayed gripped by the powers of an awed suspense1 of a great belief1 as he came on4 ,there was no hurry1 no tremor in his movements1 on through the hot scorched air he came1 on1 over the threshold of strewn salt1 and on1 over the altar of heat4 ,with naked feet he trod from end to end the white-hot pathway1 and the burning charcoal snapped beneath his tread4 ,with naked feet he walked1 unscathed1 over that fiery furnace2 and the breath of a passionate prayer passed like a sob through the courtyard4 ,then one by one the priests in their embroidered vestments stepped from the threshold of salt on to the fire4 ,from end to end of the altar they too trod that white-hot pathway slowly1 unhurt1 and the living charcoal glowed like a thousand suns in the twilight4 ,slowly behind their distant barriers the crowd stirred irresolute4 ,an old man whose face showed rapt in the circle of firelight approached the priests4 ,hesitating he was led up to the altar1 over the white salt step1 and faltering1 he too trod the white-hot pathway4 ,then a coolie came through the shadows1 he too stepped up to the altar1 passed over the threshold of salt on to the living charcoal4 ,in twos and threes the crowd was coming now4 ,some of them hesitated on the white salt step1 some hurried along the fiery pathway4 ,a few1 a very few1 walked away as though their feet were singed4 ,but all came1 even the children4 ,the big children who went resolutely alone1 the little children whom the priests led4 ,and the twilight in the courtyard deepened into night4 ,the broad altar of heat glowed ruddy1 a deep sun-red as its life pulsed slower4 ,the tourists were all quiet on their chairs1 not one of them would venture1 though the little children went before4 ,the ,faith was not in them1 nor the power of that great ,belief4 ,but those behind the barriers1 this ,tokyo crowd in kimono and 8bowler10 they believed4 ,with the sounds of a modern city humming in their ears1 fresh from the western education of their ,board ,schools1 they1 as their forefathers for two thousand years1 passed over the fire4 ,this burning symbol of a spiritual purification had meaning for them4 ,they had faith and were not afraid4 ,unto such is the ,dominion of the ,earth2 unto such is the ,kingdom of ,heaven4 ,,xiv ,,forgotten ,,gods ,neglected by the river side the ,buddhas sit1 in one long silent row4 ,the rain is beating on their unprotected heads1 and down their granite faces little rills of water trickle4 ,the river at their feet runs swift and strong1 grey among the boulders1 as it rushes down to ,nikk4 ,and they sit forsaken4 ,the moss is thick upon their shoulders1 the granite faces are all scarred and battered1 blotched with pallid growths1 spotted with dusty accumulations4 ,but the ,buddhas smile4 ,beneath their heavy-lidded eyes they smile1 a slow1 still1 changeless smile4 ,on the green bank above the tumultuous river there is no shrine1 no priest2 the forgotten gods sit still1 in one long silent row1 and the rain beats down relentless4 ,over their battered heads it runs1 and down their moss-grown shoulders2 the soiled stone laps are full of it1 and it stands in ever widening pools about the lotus-leaves of each pedestal4 ,for in ,nikk the rain1 tropical in vehemence1 is persistent1 as in the ,outer ,hebrides4 ,it lies to-day in slanting lines1 thick as willow-switches1 across the dull grey sky4 ,i could not well be wetter1 so ,i stop to look1 and the whole long silent row of ,gods ,forgotten smiles gently back at me4 ,remindful of the legend which calls them numberless1 ,i try to count4 ,once1 twice1 several times2 but the legend is right4 ,each time my total varies4 ,perhaps the rain confuses me2 the willow-switches lie so thick across the sky4 ,so ,i give it up and look at the long desolate row of the numberless ,buddhas4 ,i wonder if they envy the ,buddha who fell from his pedestal into the stream and was carried down to ,imaichi1 where the villagers1 finding him uninjured1 reverently set him up with his face towards ,nikk4 ,now the country-side adores him1 and he wears a large pink bib4 ,across the madly rushing river1 churned grey between the boulders1 the ,buddhas smile4444 ,it is a smile of understanding4 ,yes1 the slow1 still smile of ,one ,who ,understands1 who understands ,all ,things1 and understanding1 is content4 ,and who should understand1 and understanding rest content1 if not the ,eternal ,buddha8 ,is not the ,godhead wise8 ,does it not see the meaning and the path of ,all ,things8 ,and seeing1 were it not then content the ,devil triumphs8 8,god's in ,his ,heaven1 ,all's right with the world40 ,if ,god be in ,his ,heaven1 and ,god be ,god1 then must the ,godhead understanding smile4 99 99 99 99 99 ,through the thick-falling rain the long still row of granite ,buddhas smile back at me4 ,i have thought so long upon that smile1 which strikes on western senses oddly1 almost irreverently4 ,do we ever conceive of a smiling ,god8 ,in all the long picture galleries of ,europe ,i have never seen a ,christ who smiled4 ,with sword-pierced side and thorn-crowned head ,he hangs before us--suffering1 always sad4 ,the ,man of ,sorrows2 yet ,he redeemed the world2 ,he saved mankind4 ,for pure joy a soul could smile at such a thought4 ,yet with us the ,redeemer suffers2 ,he never smiles4 ,the peasant ,sgor1 from his cross where he had watched the killing of his children1 laughed gaily as he bade his dying wife farewell2 for he had saved three hundred villages from unjust taxation4 ,in his intensest suffering a ,japanese is taught to smile4 ,he comes to tell you that his child is dying1 and he smiles4 ,perhaps his eyes are red1 but he smiles1 that the sight of his suffering may not pain another4 ,it is the sublimest unselfishness and self-control4 ,sgor dying on the cross bade his crucified wife farewell1 laughing gaily1 and no ,japanese would praise or wonder at the fact4 ,sgor died as a martyr4 ,yes1 ,i have seen a smile on the faces of our martyrs1 rarely1 it is true4 ,sodoma's ,st4 ,sebastian smiles2 it is a smile of the eyes4 ,he sees a vision--the ,lamb of ,god and all the choirs of the angels4 ,but ,christ never smiles4 ,i cannot think of one picture1 one conception of a smiling ,god4 ,sad1 weighed down with the sins of mankind2 pitiful1 pleading2 or stern1 implacable1 the ,just ,judge1 the ,ruler of the ,universe1 immovable ,omnipotence1 scales in hand4 ,can either ,godhead smile8 ,buddha suffered much and endured much1 but still he smiles4 ,he too is merciful and full of pity4 ,he too suffers with each sin man sins4 ,here too the ,just ,judge judgeth the ,world4 ,and the patient ,buddha suffers till the wicked are redeemed4 ,there is no end to his suffering till all are saved4 ,only when the wicked cease from troubling1 cease because they are the good1 is mortal life completed1 till then the complex worlds spin on and on4 ,yet ,buddha smiles4 ,for man's birthright is not sin1 not sorrow1 but ,joy4 ,the ,godhead smiles4 ,this long silent row of granite gods1 fashioned by the hands and the hearts of this nation1 smile4 ,and all the bronze and granite statues1 all the gilded images1 all the ,buddhas of this island smile too1 for the people who made them and conceived them believe in ,joy1 in the innate as in the ultimate goodness of man2 in the innate as in the ultimate ,joy of the ,godhead4 ,verily these are forgotten ,gods in western lands4 ,across the raging mountain river1 through the fast-falling rain1 on the desolate green bank the numberless ,buddhas battered and forsaken smile1 that slow still smile of ,one ,who ,understands1 who understands ,all ,things1 and understanding is content4 ,great ,buddha1 ,dai ,nippon1 teach us4 ,,lord ,,fuji 8,where on the one hand is the province of ,kai1 ,and on the other the province of ,suruga1 ,right in the midst between them ,stands out the high peak of ,fuji4 ,the very clouds of ,heaven dread to approach it2 ,even the soaring birds reach not its summit in their flight4 ,its burning fire is quenched by the snow2 ,the snow that falls is melted by the fire4 ,no words may tell of it1 no name know ,i that fits it1 ,but a wondrous ,deity it surely is4 99 99 99 99 99 ,of ,yamato1 the ,land of ,sunrise1 ,it is the ,peace-,giver1 it is the ,god1 it is the ,treasure4 ,on the peak of ,fuji1 in the land of ,suruga1 ,never weary ,i of gazing40 ,japanese poet1 eighth century4 78,japanese ,literature10 by ,w4 ,g4 ,aston47 ,i ,,prologue ,from ,pole to ,pole the waters of the wide ,pacific surge1 unending and alone4 ,over the shifting plain the silence of the ocean broods4 ,here is man nothing2 for the endless spaces of the ocean1 the self-sufficiency of the unresting sea remain for ever outside of man1 coldly non-human4 ,a river or a hill can be loved into companionship1 but the sea stays always strange4 ,without ends or boundaries1 the shifting waters sweep from ,pole to ,pole1 solitary1 changeless4 ,only the curve of the earth itself1 or the weakness of man's eyesight draws imaginary boundaries on the horizon4 ,and the waste of the waters lies empty and still4 ,coldly blue is the sea below1 and the sky shutting down is blue too and bare4 ,two empty infinities which meeting set bounds to each other4 ,and within there is nothing4 ,only space2 blue1 bare space4 8,in the beginning10 says the ,scripture1 8the waters below were separated from the waters above10 and out of the void came this world of two dimensions1 so cold1 blue and beautiful4 ,it is immensity--empty4 ,then did the spirit of ,god move on the face of the waters1 move slowly and pass4 ,into the empty blue came a white1 still splendour4 ,softly it grew in the dome of the sky1 unreal in its beauty4 ,but two pale curves that stayed in the heavens1 as the wandering snowflake seems to rest on its fall4 ,midway between blue and blue it stayed1 this soft white splendour1 stayed dreaming a pause4 ,for the spirit of ,god had passed2 and the empty1 blue vastness was filled with a sense of joy and elation4 ,earth's fairest presence had risen high to the heavens4 ,and it lay1 two curving lines of exquisite splendour1 breathed light on the sky2 and white as the wing of a gull in the gleam of the sunshine1 all shining with whiteness4 ,and the infinite plane of the waters stretches on to the ,poles4 ,and the endless space of the sky wraps the water around4 ,but the empty1 blue vastness is gone4 ,it is blue sea4 ,it is sky4 ,they are framing a world1 for ,lord ,fuji has come4 ,,ii ,,the ,,ascent ,geologists state that ,fuji ,san is a volcano1 a young volcano1 #ab1cfe feet high4 ,philologists add that ,san is derived from a ,chinese term meaning mountain1 and is not the familiar ,japanese title which we render by ,mr41 ,lord1 or ,master2 while ,fuji is1 they declare1 a word of ,aino origin4 ,and then they all fall silent4 ,these are the facts3 the material1 provable facts1 such as western text-books publish4 ,but to ,japan1 ,fuji ,san is much more1 and most of this is not text-book fact4 ,national tradition says that ,fuji arose in a single night1 and at the same time ,lake ,biwa1 one hundred and forty miles away1 was suddenly formed4 ,there is a legend that1 in those far-away days of mukashi1 mukashi--once upon a time--the ,elixir of ,life was taken to the top of the mountain1 where it still remains4 ,and popular belief declares that all the cinders and ashes brought down by the pilgrims' feet are carried each night back to the summit of ,fuji4 ,to the people1 ,fuji is sacred2 holy to some as the abiding-place of the ,goddess ,ko-no-hana-saku-ya-hime1 ,she who makes the ,blossoms of the ,trees to ,bloom1 but sacred to all for its majesty1 its unutterable beauty4 ,the peasants of the country-side call ,fuji ,oyama1 ,honourable ,mountain2 and to the people ,fuji ,san is ,lord and ,master4 ,deep in their hearts1 and unassailable by western facts1 the worship of his beauty and his power lies throbbing4 ,during that brief six weeks of summer when ,fuji's wind-swept sides alone are climbable1 the pilgrims come in thousands1 in ten thousands4 ,they dress themselves in white from head to foot4 ,they carry long staves of pure white wood in their hands1 each stamped with the temple crest1 and in bands and companies they climb the mountain4 ,and always the leader at their head1 his staff crowned with a tinkling mass of bells1 like tiny cymbals1 chants the hymn of ,fuji4 ,from base to summit1 as the white-clad pilgrims climb1 the tinkling cymbals clash1 and the voice of the leader rises loud at each refrain3 8,we are going1 we are going to the top40 ,above the clash of the bells the chorus echoes3 8,to the top1 to the top1 to the top40 8,we are going10 chants the leader1 and the tiny cymbals clash--8,we are going1 we are going to the top40 ,the western facts of modern text-books cannot touch the meaning of this mountain2 the love of its long curving line which permeates the nation's art1 the adoration of its beauty1 and the reverence of its power4 ,already in a time which to us upstart western nations is almost mukashi1 mukashi1 in the days before ,king ,alfred burnt the cakes1 a ,japanese poet had caught and expressed the feeling of the nation for its mountain3 for he wrote of ,fujiyama as 8,a treasure given to mortal man ,the ,god ,protector watching o'er ,japan40 ,and to-day the ,god ,protector watches still1 and yearly the people come1 in the white garb of pilgrims1 chanting to his shrine4 ,for six short summer weeks they come4 ,then the winds rush down1 the snow falls1 the tempests rage1 and ,lord ,fuji lives alone4 ,no human being has yet stayed a winter on his summit1 and even in the summer weeks the winds will blow the lava blocks from the walls of the rest-houses1 and sometimes the pilgrim from the path4 ,for ,fuji stands alone1 not one peak among a range1 but utterly alone4 ,rising straight out of the sea on one side1 and from the great ,tokyo plain on the other1 his twelve thousand three hundred and sixty-five feet1 in two long curving lines of exquisite grace1 rise up and up into the blue1 and not one inch of one foot is hidden or lost2 it is all there1 visible as a tower built on a treeless plain4 ,it dominates the landscape4 ,it can be seen from thirteen provinces2 and from a hundred miles at sea the pale white peak of ,fuji floats above the blue4 99 99 99 99 99 ,it was a day in the beginning of ,august1 in the very middle of those hot three weeks which are the great festival of ,fuji ,san1 in the simmering dawn of a summer's day that we left ,tokyo for ,subashiri4 ,as the train approached ,gotemba the whole crowded carriageful of ,japanese looked eagerly for ,fuji4 ,the train was climbing slowly by a mountain stream1 and we were all looking1 looking1 beyond the dark green pine-trees of the river's bank4 ,suddenly1 for one dazzling moment1 the deep blue cone of ,fuji lay pillowed on a bank of clouds in the middle of the clear blue sky4 ,then1 swiftly1 the clouds rolled up and up4 ,fuji ,san was gone4 ,the whole carriageful gave vent to those long strangled h's of admiration and delight1 and with a murmured 8,fuji ,san seeing have0 sank back on their heels on the cushions4 ,gotemba is the nearest railway station to ,fujiyama1 and the highest4 ,it lies a thousand feet up4 ,being the most accessible1 it is the most usual starting-point for the climb1 but it is not the most picturesque4 ,a wonderful line of trams now connects ,gotemba with ,subashiri1 and even with ,yoshida1 a place half round the base of the mountain4 ,we were to start from ,subashiri and come down to ,yoshida1 and return by the lakes4 ,so from the station we walked up the straggling1 badly kept street of ,gotemba1 where every house is a hotel and every hotel hangs out many advertisements in the shape of cotton streamers twelve feet long and six inches wide1 which are attached by rings to bamboo poles4 ,so through groves of white and blue and brown banners all adorned with beautiful ,chinese symbols we walked to the tramway4 ,a dive through a wooden archway between two tea-houses1 where a ticket-hole and a wooden barrier composed the station1 and we were there4 ,the trams stood under the archway2 the lines were lost in the black cindery mud--and they were both ,japanese--the tram-lines1 just rows of knitting-needles and laid very close together1 the trams diminished by the national taste for the national needs to a little oblong box like a stunted bathing-machine4 ,our tram stood from ground to roof perhaps some five feet high4 ,by taking off our hats we could just manage to sit down1 and by judiciously fitting our knees into one another like elaborate dovetailing we got in width-ways1 and we only got in at all by entering the door sideways4 ,fat people do not travel in ,japanese trams--not unless they have a ladder and sit on the roof4 ,the only way to insinuate luggage is to coax it through the window-frames1 which1 as there were only two to a side1 were almost once and a half times the width of the door1 not more4 ,in the ,fuji tramways pilgrims' hats are not admitted4 ,this is no prohibition4 ,it is an impossibility1 for the diameter of the pilgrim hat1 which is twice as large as the largest halo1 is equal in size to the width of the entire tram4 ,so the pilgrims hang their huge circles of straw hats1 like scooped-out orange halves1 outside2 and our tram before it started became a new kind of armoured train4 ,in this dumpy bathing-box we had room for four a side4 ,we took five and thought it empty2 smiled at six2 submitted to seven2 where an eighth would have disposed himself ,i do not know1 he would certainly have got in1 but the puzzle would have been to have found a vacant cubic foot of space for his occupation4 ,trams are never full in ,japan4 ,there is always room for more1 if the more arrive4 ,in this case the more got in at a small junction outside the back lanes of ,gotemba4 ,they got in1 three of them1 and with huge bundles too4 ,then the conductor looked round inquiringly and smiled1 whereupon two polite pilgrims of lighter build than the newcomers gave up their seats and wedged themselves into the window-frames1 while the bundles were deposited on the continuous strata of passenger4 ,what happened to the third ,i do not know4 ,he got in4 ,then we started1 really started1 for there was no other halting-place1 no village or station between here and ,subashiri4 ,nothing but a broad1 bare sweep of upward-tending common1 where multitudes of wild flowers grew out of the cindery soil4 ,as we went on1 the faintly curving common1 which always sloped round and up1 grew wilder and wilder4 ,there were fewer flowers on the black soil4 ,sometimes the cinders lay all bare in large dull patches against the coarse grass4 ,we were on the broad swelling slope of ,fuji1 on the edge of the first ripple before it dies away into the smooth water of the plain below4 ,and we were crawling slowly from the first to the second ripple as a fly crawls round the curve of an orange4 ,fuji himself was invisible4 ,for all we could see he did not exist4 ,spread out before our eyes was only the endless swelling line of the green common1 always curving round and up4 ,from time to time our driver blew a melancholy thin note from a tiny copper horn shaped like a thickened comma and ornamented with a worked band of brass1 a pathetic far-off note unknown to western scales4 ,our tram-line was laid among the ample cinders of ,fuji's burnt-out fires1 and sometimes the curves were very sharp4 ,then the conductor1 balanced on the step and grasping the window-frame with both hands1 jerked the tram towards him to keep it on the lines2 and we rounded the curves in triumph4 ,the compact mass of passenger which filled the tram interior looked on unperturbed1 while those in the window-frames kindly adjusted their weight to assist the conductor4 ,and the melancholy thin note of the copper horn travelled over the long slope of the upward-tending common as we crawled slowly on4 ,in the midst of a perfect stocking-heel of knitting-needles1 which all looked as though they were about to begin violently knitting at once1 the tram stopped1 and the compact mass of passenger disintegrated itself slowly4 ,having been the first to enter we were the last to detach ourselves from the general lump1 and when we did recover a separate entity the knitting-needles lay gleaming in the cindery mud--and there was nothing else4 ,we stumbled on over them for some time1 until a ticket-hole in a sentry-box restored our belief that it was a stopping-place and not an accident4 ,so we stood still and shouted for our tea-house boy by name4 ,he came running1 in long1 tight-fitting1 blue trousers like thick cotton hose and a blue tunic2 and he was a girl1 a pretty bright-coloured girl with daintily coiffured hair2 and we all set off for the tea-house4 ,subashiri is another straggling ill-kept street1 all tea-houses and long cotton banners tied to bamboo poles1 and our tea-house was the last of them all4 ,it lay on the very edge of ,fuji1 and when we left it1 after all our preparations had been completed1 our lunch eaten1 our guide engaged1 we stepped straight on to the endless curve of upward-tending common4 ,i should have said our horses stepped1 for the first stage of ,fuji ,san is climbable on horses1 pack-horses of a unique ,japanese breed1 which bite4 ,they are harnessed with elaborate trappings in scarlet and gold1 saddled with huge wooden saddles1 rising like the prow of a ship behind1 and sloping so steeply that the middle is one long knife-blade ridge1 and only a tight hold of the stirrups prevents the rider from falling4 ,all ride straddle-legged4 ,i do not recommend ,japanese pack-horses for pleasure1 comfort1 or security4 ,we plodded along over the bare common with its eternal long sweep upwards1 like the swell of a great ,atlantic roller1 and the freshness and the coldness seemed to lift us out of ,japan and carry us miles and miles north1 to the chill summer of a northern land4 ,the path which cut winding across the long up-sweep of the green common was black as ink1 and shining with the wet of mountain clouds4 ,fuji was invisible1 but as the deep rumble of the thunder1 deadened behind the thick white clouds which bounded path and common1 rolled slowly out of hearing it was as if ,great ,fuji spoke4 ,behind the mist the presence of the 8honourable mountain0 could be surely felt4 ,already the world seemed sunk away and the pilgrimage begun4 ,over the green common the pack-horses plodded4 ,our guide and the little girl groom1 in her thick blue hose and dark blue tunic1 were far behind talking in peace4 ,the big drops of rain which the thunder brought had ceased to fall1 and the freshness and the chill coming after the tropical heat of the plain stung strength to life again4 ,even the pack-horses grew less sulky1 and urging made them shuffle into something near a trot4 ,but this outbreak of energy1 which lasted perhaps eighty yards1 was more than enough for comfort1 though it added to experience1 for like the knights of old who 8clove0 their enemies in two1 we too 8clove10 but in another direction4 ,it was painful4 ,so the horses sank back into their bad-tempered pace1 and the wide common swept onwards and upwards4 ,after awhile the monotony of the black path crossing the green common was varied by stunted bushes which1 gradually growing bigger and bigger1 actually enclosed the cinder-track as ,english hedges an ,english lane4 ,but the change was brief and the sloping green world with the long black line of path winding across it came back again4 ,the pack-horses plodded bad-temperedly on1 and the structure of that saddle seemed to be petrifying in my frame4 ,a blot in the path which had lain for so long on the edge of the common came gradually nearer until it widened into a deep oblong pit filled with the rakings of a thousand fires4 ,through this we ploughed our way1 and the loose cinders came over the feet of the horses4 ,with a good deal of exertion we climbed out again1 then a few yards1 a sharp turn1 and we passed an empty row of sheds1 for we had reached the ,mma gaeshi--8,horse-turn-back0 station4 ,my horse evidently understood the ,chinese characters of the tea-house sign1 for no sooner did he see them than he promptly walked into one of the sheds1 with me clinging affectionately to his neck to avoid the shock of the roof on my chest4 ,but promptly as he walked in1 the little girl groom and the boy guide were prompter2 with a rush they were at his head1 hauling him out again4 ,he objected strongly1 snarling like an ill-used dog1 and so did ,i1 but we were backed out of the shed at last4 ,we did not 8horse-turn-back10 we were going to take our steeds on one more station4 ,the stations on ,fuji1 which are nothing but the native tea-house1 rougher1 ruder1 and less scrupulously clean1 are mostly built right across the actual path itself4 ,you go in at one side and out at the other4 ,up to the very threshold of the tea-house the sweep of the wet green common rolled1 like a gigantic1 motionless wave that never breaks4 ,it was a bare wild world bounded only by the pale walls of the distant clouds4 ,but on the other side the path plunged steeply into a thick interminable wood1 where the great trees dripped slowly1 with the heavy persistency of ,fate1 and the dark trunks glistened uncertainly with wet4 ,the little girl groom and the boy guide came and led the horses carefully1 for the path was very steep1 and the thick roots of the trees stretched like cords above the cinders4 ,this stage was short4 ,at the next tea-house1 which lay confined as a lake between the walls of the mountain1 we said 8good-bye0 to the ill-tempered horses and to the little girl groom4 ,the boy was to take us to the top and down to ,yoshida4 ,then the wood1 which the tea-house had interrupted no more than a buoy the ocean1 stretched on4 ,the great trees dripped coldly1 with that chill feel of damp green things that makes the springtime of the north3 coldly fresh as though the running sappy life were chill as mountain water1 as though the growing trees were enwrapped in invisible ice and the very air made of impalpable snow4 ,in the midst of the wood stood a little desolate shrine1 its floor was nothing but the black stamped earth1 its roof of roughest thatch kept down with lava-stones1 and only the tiny altar had walls at all4 ,behind a sort of wooden bar the gods sat dim1 and a mournful old priest was their only attendant4 ,straight towards the altar led the mountain path4 ,this was the gateway of ,lord ,fuji4 ,each path that climbs the 8honourable mountain0 leads through a temple to the temple on the top4 ,at the first shrine the pilgrim buys his long white staff1 stamped with the temple crest1 which he carries with him upwards to the summit4 ,we bought our staves4 ,and the old man1 thrusting a thin bar of iron like a stick of sealing-wax into the charcoal fire1 burnt the crest of ,subashiri's shrine into the clean white wood1 and with a courteous gesture he said the prayer which we1 unknowing1 had left unsaid4 ,lord ,fuji is neither fierce nor exclusive1 all the world may come as pilgrims through his gateways4 ,from the great ,sun-,goddess the ,mikado sprang1 and the people of ,japan are all kin to the ,shint gods1 but the ,shint gods themselves welcomed the ,lord ,buddha when he came4 ,side by side with the older gods ,buddha's temples stand to-day1 and ,lord ,buddha1 too1 once said1 8,all men are one02 and again1 8,all living things are brothers to mankind02 for ,buddha1 like the modern scientists1 declared the world1 all worlds1 and all that in them is1 one1 in substance one4 ,three steps from the temple and the trees of the wood shut over it as waters over a stone4 ,it was lost4 ,lord ,fuji is greater than his temples4 ,with the help of our staves we climbed on up the steep cinder-path1 till the great green trees1 dripping slowly1 dwindled1 drew back1 were ended4 ,on the very edge of the wood was a tea-house1 the ,ichi-g1 ,no4 #a station1 a roughly built wooden-walled tea-house1 on the edge of whose matting1 with our feet on the path1 we sat and drank tea1 innumerable egg-bowls of hot green tea4 ,while we were sitting here a whole party of pilgrims1 in their white hose trousers1 their white tunics tucked into their white obi1 and their wash-basin-big straw hats1 came down the path4 ,they turned into the tea-house1 and one old man1 dropping on to the matting1 rolled himself into a corner and was covered with futon4 ,he had caught cold on the top1 and was perfectly exhausted with pain and fatigue4 ,but as he lay in the corner1 clutching the futon to him as though to press a concrete warmth into his numbed bones1 there was in his eyes a look of dwelling content that not all the pain nor all the fatigue could overcome4 ,he had climbed from the threshold to the sanctuary of ,fuji2 had knelt by the cloud-swept altar2 felt the might of the ,god in the winds of his summit1 in the still depths of his crater2 caught up with ,lord ,fuji on high1 he had looked down upon earth4 ,what now was pain or fatigue8 99 99 99 99 99 ,the path from the tea-house struck out abruptly across the mountain1 and we soon stood above the trees1 stood on the bare cinder-slope that is ,fuji4 ,it was very much like walking up an ash-heap or a ballast-mound1 and about as beautiful4 ,below us everything was hidden in a shifting mist2 above1 twenty feet of cinder-slope ended in a white wall4 ,it was like climbing a black rope hung between two clouds4 ,after the ballast-heap came a lava-bed1 where a molten river of lava had dried itself into high rocks and deep cracks1 as the ice of a glacier4 ,we crossed it obliquely1 and in the twilight saw neither beginning nor end1 neither from where it came nor to where it went2 but its pinnacles and crevasses1 its tumbled waves and jagged1 piled-up ridges1 lay lustreless and dark1 as though of coal-black ice4 ,once across this lava-glacier1 and out of the dip formed by its bed1 we stood on a sort of self-contained ash-heap1 and looked down that long slope of ,fuji which already lay below us4 ,dimly through the faint floating veil of mist we could see all the green earth bare and smooth1 with a darker line of hills as a child's bank of mud curving round the black surface of the lakes4 ,we were so high up1 the lakes so far away1 and the whole air so heavy with moisture that they looked in the misty light like polished slabs of black rock dropped into the green earth as one might sink stepping-stones into a lawn4 ,as we watched the light seemed to thicken1 the white mists spread through it as motes in a sunbeam1 gathered themselves together4 ,swiftly they hid the black lakes2 and boiling within the dark curve of the hills in billows of smoke1 boiled over the mud-bank of hills1 and blotting them out2 submerged the green earth1 and flowing rapidly upwards hid all the long slope of ,fuji beneath a shoreless sea of fog4 ,again we stood on a steep cinder-heap on the black rope which hung from void to void--alone4 99 99 99 99 99 ,and impenetrable ,fuji remained4 ,we simply climbed a cinder-path which ran from end to end of a never-ending1 ever-retreating circle of cloud4 ,and still within this grey-white circle we reached the ,ni-g1 or ,no4 #b station4 ,here we were to stop the night1 because ,no4 #b is larger and more comfortable than ,no4 #d1 and ,no4 #h was too far away4 ,no4 #b lay on the side of the path1 its face looking over the precipice and its three sides well within a scooped-out hole in the cinder-heap4 ,it was nothing but an ordinary ,japanese room1 only its walls were of solid wood1 protected outside by cut blocks of lava1 and inside with a lining of folded futon on shelves4 ,far away in the back of the room the charcoal fire was sunk in a sort of earth well1 so that you could sit on the matting with your legs in the hole1 absorb warmth1 or do your cooking4 ,otherwise the tea-house was bare matted space on which each comer staked out a claim for himself with his luggage4 ,having chosen a good site in a corner less draughty than the rest of the enclosure1 we proceeded to unpack and wash4 ,just outside the middle of the open wall of the house1 and full on the pathway of ,fuji1 stood a large waterbutt4 ,having been directed by the family--an amiable man1 an indifferent wife1 and an inquisitive boy--to wash outside1 ,i stepped on to the pathway4 ,the tub was half full of water and looked very like the ordinary bath-tub of ,japan4 ,it was the first time ,i had seen a bath out of doors1 though they figure so largely in travellers' tales2 still there was nothing else1 so boldly ,i plunged the top half of myself into the water4 ,a simultaneous scream from the man1 the wife and the boy1 brought me up dripping and bewildered4 ,what had ,i done8 ,not sinned against their moral code1 surely4 ,no--worse4 ,washed in the drinking-water6 ,luckily there was more1 enough for endless tea that night1 and to-morrow fresh water could be fetched4 ,but my wash came to an abrupt end4 ,of course what ,i ought to have done was to unearth a brass pan tucked away behind the tub1 take down a bamboo dipper from a lava-block1 dip out water from the tub into the pan and wash in that4 ,quite simple1 naturally1 when it was all explained and the pan and the dipper produced1 but all problems always are simple after the explanation4 ,the amiable man remained amiable even after this catastrophe1 and the indifferent wife had not been shaken from her indifference save for the space of one brief scream1 while the small boy1 at such an exhibition of curious manners on the part of the ,ijin ,san1 grew more inquisitive than ever1 and we fried ham1 ate tinned tongue1 cut slices of bread1 and drank foreign wine under a close and exhaustive series of comments which were questions4 ,it grew dark rapidly as we ate4 ,and as relays of pilgrims came in out of the night to fling themselves down on the matting1 swallow cupfuls of hot tea and exchange long compliments with the man1 the wife1 and the guide1 and disappear again into the night1 we congratulated ourselves4 ,no4 #d must have been very full4 ,at eight o'clock1 when the amado were drawn and the tea-house became a compact box1 ,no4 #b had no guests but the ,ijin ,san4 ,it was time to go to bed4 ,the man put out the one smoking lamp by the fire-pit which had cast such lurid yellow lights on the white clothes of the pilgrims as they sat and drank1 and such murky1 gigantic shadows on the rest of the room2 the boy went to bed in a corner1 and we rolled ourselves up in our carefully ,keatinged futon and tried to sleep4 ,it was cold4 ,there were fleas4 ,and ,fuji sent us down a draught which simply whistled through the wooden walls1 the folded futon and the lava-blocks4 ,and the sense of the unusual1 of the rest-house1 the cinder-path and of ,fuji1 crept into our slumbers1 holding back sleep4 99 99 99 99 99 ,when we awoke it was already five o'clock and the amado were open4 ,the boy1 careering over the matting1 was detailing how the ,ijin ,san slept4 ,we shook ourselves out of our futon and went outside to wash--not in the waterbutt4 ,already1 when we stepped upon the cinder-path1 the unseen sun had touched the white clouds lying like islands in the blue beneath4 ,and as we watched they coloured blushing1 till in blood-red pools they studded thick the air below4 ,they lay away out over the land1 moving slowly through the vapoury mist4 ,it was as if the air was half precipitated1 the atmosphere made visible4 ,we looked down on to the world below and saw it as one sees white stones at the bottom of deep water4 ,the hidden sun was rising swiftly1 and as he rose the blood-red pools faded out2 the vapoury white air grew thinner1 seemed slowly drying1 until clear and invisible1 we looked through it and saw the green earth stretching away and away to the level line of the horizon2 while midway the little lakes lay sepia-black upon the green1 curving so comfortably into the tiny crescent of the hills all dark with purple shadows4 ,a fresh-washed world lying green and flat at the bottom of #g1jjj feet of atmosphere4 99 99 99 99 99 ,it was cold1 the water in the brass pan colder1 and tingling with sudden chill we ran rapidly up the path past the scooped-out hollow where the rest-house hid--and stood transfixed4 ,above us1 touching us1 and black against a sky all blue and liquid as the living sea1 was ,fuji ,san4 ,his clear-cut lines rose up quickly1 and the mountain1 whose slope our hands were holding1 seemed to draw back its summit that our eyes might see it1 so close it lay1 so steep above4 ,round as a tower it rose in curves of grace1 a black lighthouse springing towards the sky1 delicate as ,giotto's lily tower3 slender in its grace and fragile4 ,this was no rude ,colossus1 mighty with brute strength1 but a god1 great in grace1 and strong1 because divine4 ,upwards the soaring lines rose up1 coal-black1 and the growing light caught faintly at a wine-red patch where the sullen fires were sleeping1 caught and turned it redder2 redly it glowed1 smouldering into life1 the living life of ,fujiyama4 ,beneath the rounded dip of the summit were two tiny cracks1 and the sky which lay so blue within the crescent curve seemed straining through4 ,here was neither tree nor rock1 neither snow nor glacier1 nothing to hide the form and substance of the mountain4 ,quite smoothly it rose1 deep black1 one great dead cinder4 99 99 99 99 99 ,it was perfectly fine when at last towards six o'clock we started to climb2 and the pale blue sky lay flat behind ,fuji1 as the background in a picture4 ,our path was narrow1 just a foot-wide track beaten firm in the steep cinder-slope4 ,and we climbed1 till at ,no4 #d we stopped to rest4 ,the stations on ,fuji are all much alike4 ,a matted room lined with futon1 and always a square well at the back with a charcoal fire and an ever-boiling kettle4 ,as you go up the wooden walls are hidden outside beneath huge blocks of cut lava1 hidden deeper and deeper1 while the roofs are fastened down with lava-stones4 ,yet every winter ,fuji blows down the built-up walls1 tears off the roofs1 and sends the big blocks hurtling down the slope4 ,even in summer the roof and walls lose portions of themselves1 which1 rolling1 rolling1 rolling1 roll for ever downwards4 ,some of the stations are smaller1 some larger1 some cleaner1 this is the only difference4 ,in each you sit down on the matting to rest1 and the crouching man over the fire brings you hot tea1 and rice-paste cakes1 while a far-away figure dimly seen through the smoke of the charcoal fire asks your guide where you come from1 where you are going to1 when you started1 and what time you will be back4 ,and your guide replies1 with endless details as to your behaviour if you are an ,ijin ,san1 and the amount you have already expended on tea and tips4 ,it was a glorious morning and one with the added charm of uncertainty4 ,floating in the blue above and below us were clouds1 large white clouds which would swoop down on the land1 suddenly1 and hide it as under a napkin4 ,then the black cone of ,fuji1 a cone with its top bitten out in two little bites1 would pull down a thick flap out of the blue1 and disappear4 ,mountain1 sky and land shifted and shone1 passed in an eddy of broken glimpses1 stayed in a still-set picture1 or were lost under covering clouds4 ,but always the steep little path led up through the loose cinder-slope1 and always we climbed4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the steepest and most tiring part of the climb1 except the natural staircase below the summit1 is between the sixth and eighth station1 where the path1 leaving the cinder-slope1 runs along a ridge of solid lava1 rising like the long root of a tree high up out of the cinders1 and loses itself among great black blocks4 ,to cross this was something like jumping over sea rocks when the tide is out1 only instead of lying flat these went steeply upward4 ,as we went toiling painfully along1 feeling very like ants crawling up a tree-trunk1 the clash of tiny cymbals1 the faint echoes of talk and laughter came floating up4 ,it was a whole party of pilgrims who came swinging up hand over hand1 as it were1 and as easily as if they were skating on good ice4 ,we first saw them as we stood propped against the lava-blocks1 panting1 and they were far below us1 tiny as dwarfs1 little spots of white on the dead-black slope1 away down in the second storey as we were in the sixth4 ,but as we laboriously climbed our inches they came on swiftly--on1 up1 on1 past us2 the little bells clashing and chiming gaily to the talk and laughter4 ,our guide told us they were kurumaya who had started from ,gotemba that morning at two1 and who would get back there again before dark1 to work the next day as usual4 ,anything like the pace at which those men came up the steep slope of ,fuji--for the most part straight over the long beds of loose cinders--,i have never seen4 ,it was like sailors running up a rope4 ,they came up more swiftly than most people would care to go down1 without an effort1 with plenty of breath left to talk and laugh1 and with that supreme ease which only comes when doing something well within the margin of one's power4 ,we were very glad to rest at ,no4 #h1 though our friends the kurumaya had gone on cheerfully4 ,it was such a nice large tea-house1 beautifully clean1 and the hot egg-bowls full of tea were peculiarly refreshing4 ,without the continuous tea ,i do not know how one would climb ,fuji at all4 ,the air at #ac1jjj feet freezes1 but the sun of ,japan pours down relentlessly1 fierce as the tropics1 while the hot dust drifts down one's throat1 into one's very skin2 and when the wind blows you need to cling to the shifting cinders with the very soles of your feet4 ,shelter on the bare slopes of ,fuji there is none4 ,frequently the wind is so fierce even in the six brief weeks of summer that to stand upright is impossible1 for ,fuji's summit is in the heart of the storm4 ,between the eighth and the ninth station the path was easy1 but we climbed it wrapped in a sudden cloud4 ,all the long sweep of earth below was gone4 ,the green ,tokyo plain1 where the dark thunder-clouds lay brooding in the still blue air1 and the great fingers of light which struck so fiercely on the little lakes beneath the mud bank of the hills1 the dark cone1 so near above us1 all were gone1 sponged out by a big cloud4 ,and we were only climbing up a steep black rope that hung between two infinities1 climbing out of space1 into space4 ,from the ninth and last station you climb into ,fuji's stronghold by a giant staircase of rough lava4 ,it is necessary here to hoist yourself painfully up by the aid of guides or your own two hands4 ,we climbed on slowly4 ,the lava was quite hot1 for the staircase lies cut within the slope1 and gets and keeps the heat4 ,on the steepest step of the staircase we passed an old1 old man1 and an old1 old woman1 both in the white garb of pilgrims1 and each with a guide on either side to help them on4 ,the last pitiful effort of the old woman to drag herself up on to a lava-block had exhausted her completely2 she lay huddled against the stones gasping1 her eyes shut4 ,the old man kneeling by her side was holding the wrinkled hand in both of his trying to encourage her4 ,the cracked old voice1 broken with quavering pants for breath1 sounded strangely on the desolate black staircase as we came by4 8,we are going10 he chanted--8we are going to the top40 ,and the four guides in their fresh young voices sang3 8,to the top1 to the top1 to the top40 8,we are going10 repeated the old man1 softly stroking the hand he held--8we are going to the top40 ,and again the four young voices rang out vigourously3 8,to the top1 to the top1 to the top40 ,it was the pilgrims' hymn1 and the old woman heard it4 ,slowly she stirred1 her mouth opened with a sigh of utter weariness1 but still she too sang in the thinnest trickle of a voice1 broken with quavering sobs3 8,to the top1 to the top1 to the top40 ,it was the most pathetic music ,i have ever heard4 ,indeed the wave of faith was great which could carry such as these to the top of ,fuji ,san4 99 99 99 99 99 ,up the steep steps1 cut so deep within the lava1 we hurried panting1 eager we1 too1 to reach the top4 ,but the summit of ,fujiyama is a sanctuary1 and on its threshold stood two priests4 ,as we stumbled up over the last step1 and on to the path which runs around the crater1 they barred our way1 standing motionless behind a white-wood wicket4 ,in the breeze their black robes fluttered1 their tonsured heads were bare4 ,surprised we paused4 ,all the climber's hurry fell away4 ,this was not another peak to be raced up and raced down by the indifferent tourist1 not another ascent to be added to the list of the mountaineer4 ,fuji ,san is sacred4 ,enter into his courts as into the temple of the ,lord1 humbly1 reverently1 or at least with a sincere respect4 ,the two priests leaned over the wicket as we came up and bowed2 but they did not open it4 ,one stretched out his hand for our staves to stamp them with the temple's crest4 ,on the summit of ,fuji ,san the crest is stamped in vermilion ink4 ,in the temples at the foot it is burnt with a red-hot iron3 vermilion is a royal colour4 ,the other priest1 holding a bamboo dipper1 came slowly towards us4 ,something he was saying as he moved1 in the nasal sing-song of the priest4 ,then he motioned to us to put out our hands and slowly1 carefully1 he poured the ice-cold water over them4 ,and they bade us enter4 ,it was the rite of purification1 the symbol of the contrite heart which all who cross great ,fuji's threshold must surely bring4 99 99 99 99 99 ,once inside the wicket the path1 beaten wide here1 ran between a breast-high wall of lava which1 built like a rampart on the edge of ,fuji1 hid the sheer sides of the mountain and a row of low wooden huts1 the rest-houses--ran between these and on1 up to where the black edge of the crater1 like the rim of a broken cup1 cut the sky in sharp clear lines4 ,for the moment it was fine1 and leaving our luggage in one of the huts we hurried on1 past the rest-houses1 on past the rampart wall1 on along the little beaten track which still led steeply upwards4 ,then sharply it turned1 and we stood wedged within a crack in the crater wall1 with the sharp black rim rising high on either hand4 ,we were alone on ,fuji's side1 before his altar4 ,and there was no sound4 ,in a stillness as of death the vast crater stretched #hjj feet below1 and the grey ash-dust gathering through two centuries lay thick and smooth as sand upon the shore4 ,steeply the cinder-walls rose up1 rose round1 and held the ash4 ,only in front of us1 across half a mile of silent dust1 a wide crack in the cup-like rim showed two tall poles and many floating banners1 there where the temple's wicket crossed the pathway from ,gotemba4 ,grey ash and cinder1 that was ,fuji ,san4 ,once a mighty fire1 a fire two and a half miles round1 with #ac1jjj feet of cinders1 and a bed of ash #bjjj feet across4 ,and now1 dying or asleep1 rigid as death1 grown grey and cold1 but yet mighty as the sea1 powerful as the storm2 ,nature's eternal force made visible4 ,and that still life which rolls around our human incompleteness1 mysterious and unknown1 drew near4 ,almost it seemed as though we touched the force without1 the unresting naked flame of being which threads through the spheres4 ,almost we touched--but saw only the corpse of ,life1 for ,nature keeps her secrets4444 99 99 99 99 99 ,in a silence as of death1 the vast still crater stretched for a circle of two miles1 and the grey ash-dust gathering through two centuries lay thick and smooth--the pall of a mighty ,god4 ,steeply the cindery walls rose up1 rose round in jagged points like the rim of a broken cup1 and into the crack there came two white-clad pilgrims4 ,they knelt bareheaded on the edge of the crater1 looking down1 and the murmured sing-song of their prayers broke the silence4 ,old and grizzled1 their bullet-heads were bent before the altar in a ,faith reverent and sincere4 ,truly the might of ,god had dwelt on ,fuji2 the breath of ,eternal ,life had rested here--rested and passed1 or was passing2 and the pilgrim in his faith holds sacred the print of that footstep4 ,he prays to that part of the ,godhead incarnate in ,fuji--,fuji so perfect in his grace1 so stirring in his strength4 ,in western lands the ,roman ,catholic peasant prays before his altar1 but the symbol of his ,godhead is often reduced to a composite ,christ in pink and white plaster4 ,if ,truth must have a form--and mankind believes with difficulty in abstract nouns--it surely is a purer1 grander faith to feel ,god visible in ,fuji's curves1 dwelling in his sleeping fires1 than to hem ,him in a building made by man and seat ,him on an ugly altar between groups of tawdry flowers4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the little narrow path which led down into the crack led also round the summit below the jagged edges of the crater's rim1 and we followed it4 ,outside the crack it went steeply downwards before it turned1 for above1 the cindery slopes of ,fuji were steaming white in the sunshine1 and the ground was very hot4 ,it is but a patch1 still evidence that ,fuji sleeps4 ,he is not dead4 ,then the wandering pathway1 a black thread on the loose cinder-slope1 led up again1 round and down into a tiny fold among the cinders1 and suddenly1 quickly as a camera snaps1 the white clouds1 loosely piled upon the mountain1 were riven asunder1 and the whole world shimmering in a golden haze that touched but did not hide it1 lay at our feet4 ,straight down below1 #ac1jjj feet away1 it lay4 ,all the long line of the river ,fujikawa1 gleaming blue-black as rough-cast iron1 among the orange sand-flats of its mouth4 ,and the soft curves of the ,yokohama peninsula1 a smaller but more graceful ,italy1 floating1 floating1 on the water1 purple-blue on azure blue4 ,and all beyond was the blue intensity of the infinite sea4 ,so near it looked1 so clear that the steely line of the ,fujikawa seemed a sword-blade one could stoop and reach4 ,and leaning we looked from ,fuji's top as from a tower2 but ,fuji's self we could not see4 ,his cinder-slopes had vanished4 ,straight down below there was the world1 and we above it hung suspended #ac1jjj feet above the earth4 ,beyond1 above1 outside of it4 ,dear ,earth1 how still it lay1 how beautiful6 ,and into my mind there floated the old1 old words3 8,and ,he divided the land from the waters1 and the dry land ,he called ,earth4444 ,and ,god looked and saw that it was good40 ,above the world1 beyond it1 we too could look and see1 and we too 8saw that it was good40 99 99 99 99 99 ,then the little wandering track1 beaten firm by the feet of the pilgrims1 led on1 up and down1 among the cinders of ,fuji's sides1 and round to that great crack in the cup's rim where the pathway from ,gotemba reached the summit4 ,here were crowds of people1 all the pilgrims on ,fuji ,san1 pouring through the white-wood wicket1 or buying draughts of the sacred 8,golden ,water0 which is born in the depths of the crater4 ,as we stood drinking our little bowlful of the ice-cold water1 the low boom of a ,japanese temple bell came swaying through the air1 and each jagged peak round the crater's rim added its muffled echo to the bell's deep boom4 ,the level space which formed the floor to this big crack was full of pilgrims old and young1 men1 women and little children1 and they were all pressing forward between the tall poles1 where the long banners tied top and bottom were stirring in the wind1 to the little temple lying under the very edge of ,fuji1 as a nest beneath the eaves4 ,the temple seemed full already1 but the crowd1 courteous for all their zeal1 pressed forward gently1 content1 if they could not enter1 to stay outside4 ,again the low liquid boom came swaying through the air1 prolonged by the muffled echoes of the jagged peaks4 ,and we too walked towards the temple4 ,but the patient crowd without reached already to the pathway1 and must press back against the cinder sides as the long procession of black-robed priests1 with copes and stoles and vestments of rich brocade1 swept into the temple4 ,then the liquid booming bell swayed out again--and was still2 and the muffled echoes of the peaks1 subdued and faint1 lingered in the intense silence4 ,the priests had passed within4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the ash on the floor of the crater was soft and very thick4 ,it lay in thin round flakes that broke between the fingers1 and the feet sank into it1 drawn under as on sand that is half-quick4 ,it was like walking on piles of those sunlit flecks that carpet a beech-wood2 but the light had gone out of these and left them pale and grey4 ,all around the black walls of the crater rose up into the sky1 five hundred feet of sheer height4 ,shut into the crater pit with the dead ash sucking our feet we seemed to have come to the region where death lies behind--and birth is yet to come4 ,we stood in the ,place of ,pause1 in that ,between which is ,nothingness4 ,smooth as the sand of the shore the ash stretched along4 ,loose and thick the flakes were piled1 and the feet1 drawn under1 grew heavy4 ,what was beneath8 ,nothingness8 ,and a strange fear of falling through the loose ash into that ,nothingness grew with each empty moment4 ,faintly1 far away1 the stir of ,life's ,birth reached into the void4 ,it came from below1 deep through the ash where a little clear trickle of water sang in the silence4 ,distinct1 but so soft that the senses must needs strain to hear4 ,through the ash1 beneath the ash1 the water trickled1 faint as a new-born breath4 ,and its name it was ,golden4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the hut when we reached it was empty1 and it lay facing the lava-wall1 the last of the row1 and all of them were open in front1 like cages at the ,zoo4 ,the square pit with its charcoal fire was in front here1 and we had to pass behind it to reach the unoccupied space at the back4 ,as we crawled over the matting darkened by our own shadows1 for the only light came through the open front1 we almost stumbled over some one rolled up in a bundle of futon4 ,it was the old1 old woman of the morning4 ,she was asleep1 in the deep1 dull sleep of utter exhaustion1 and her wrinkled chin1 dropped down1 trembled1 as she slept4 ,it was very cold in the hut1 and we too were glad of futon and egg-bowls of hot tea1 glad to eat our tinned tongue and slices of dry bread1 and gladder still just to stay wrapt in the futon1 and sleepily rest4 ,the landlord1 like an image1 sat on his heels in the well and never stirred4 ,from time to time he put fresh pieces of charcoal on the fire with a pair of brass chopsticks2 then the smoke1 sweeping in dense waves through the room1 would make us all cough abruptly1 till it melted slowly away and the room was still4 ,beyond the lava-wall the grey-white clouds lay herded as a fold of sheep1 and we watched them mounting up and up1 rolling against the wall1 rising above it1 sending thin wreaths and wisps of mists across the pathway1 which stayed like ribbons in the air1 and then sinking1 dropped down again4 ,often they came up1 and always rolled back beaten4 ,fuji's summit is above the clouds1 they could not scale it4 ,in twos and threes and little groups1 the white-robed pilgrims stopped to sit on the edge of the matting and drink tea1 and eat innumerable balls of rice rolled in a soft grated substance that looked to be1 but was not1 cheese--a thing unknown in this milkless land4 ,so the pilgrims sat on the matting and ate their rice-balls1 which the landlord1 without moving his body a hair's-breadth1 produced and rolled1 and sprinkled1 and handed4 ,and the acrid smoke from the charcoal fire drifted across the room1 filling it4 99 99 99 99 99 ,quite suddenly ,i awoke out of my sleep1 to find some one on the floor beside me waking the old1 old woman4 ,it took her a long time to struggle out of that dense1 deep sleep into a state of even drowsy consciousness4 ,she sat up1 bewildered1 and when they told her she must go1 get up1 climb all that weary way down again1 the old face seemed to shrink together in hopeless despair4 ,there was a long dreary pause4 ,then the old1 old woman bowed1 the smile of courtesy upon her worn old face4 8,yorosh gozaimas0 78,as it honourably pleases you071 she said4 ,and rising1 she tottered out4 ,this flesh was more than weak1 but the spirit was the spirit of her race--it sacrificed all things4 99 99 99 99 99 ,we were to sleep in ,yoshida that night1 and for us too it was time to go4 ,so leaving our money on the edge of the fire-pit we crawled out of the hut4 ,the image sitting on its heels never stirred2 with one swift glance beneath the eyelids1 he had reckoned the money to the last sen1 but whether more or less than he expected1 he remained immovable1 magnificently unconscious1 occupied solely in bowing us out4 ,had it been less than the proper charge we certainly should have heard of it through the guide1 but as tea is never charged for1 each visitor pays for it according to his rank1 exigencies1 generosity1 and the status of the tea-house4 ,in reality1 of course1 it is payment for attendance as well as tea4 ,the ,japanese hold that no service performed can ever have a money equivalent4 ,in their economy1 money was never a real asset1 as courage1 knowledge or art1 and they ignored it1 when they did not despise it4 ,so in the old days1 those trades which had most to do with money1 whose aim seemed to be the getting of money1 were looked down on4 ,shopkeepers and merchants ranked below swordsmiths1 peasants and artisans4 ,only the ignoble would choose such as a life's work1 and if to-day this idea has hindered commerce1 if it has produced the low standard of some business men1 and consequently the foreigner's bad opinion of them1 it has1 on the other hand1 lifted the nation out of the rut of sordid greed1 made it seek after1 and lay fast hold of1 that which seems to it true--made of its people a race of men1 of gentlemen1 honourable1 high-principled1 and capable of indomitable devotion to their ideal4 99 99 99 99 99 ,we stepped off the summit of ,fuji ,san into a wet white cloud1 which was the sky of the earth below4 ,for the first two stages the way down was the same as the way up1 but at ,no4 #h the paths divided1 the one to ,yoshida leading away to the left4 ,after we had made a sort of semi-tour of the mountain we climbed over a lava-ridge and found ourselves in the centre of a black scoop in ,fuji's side that1 coming from above1 stretched interminably downwards4 ,and the whole of the huge groove was a mass of the loosest1 most shifting cinder4 ,there was no path4 ,one went down4 ,at each step all the cinders on that part of ,fuji slid bodily1 tumbling over each other in their haste4 ,you slid too1 until the cinders1 piling themselves up and up1 reached the knee1 and abruptly you stopped1 only to pull out that leg and begin to slide again with the other4 ,the rate at which one shot down was prodigious1 and the method alarming4 ,each step seemed to start half the mountain rolling1 rolling1 for ever downwards1 and there seemed no particular reason why the other half with you on it should not roll away too4 ,positively1 as the torrent of cinders rolled and rolled and rolled1 the conviction that ,fujiyama must look smaller next morning grew upon me4 ,until with a flash of understanding ,i remembered the legend of the dust brought down by the pilgrims' feet flying each night back to the mountain4 ,and it seemed a very necessary explanation1 and quite convincing too1 when ,i looked at the tons and tons of cinders which my feet alone were sending down ,fuji's side4 ,after awhile the slope grew even steeper1 and the cinders from black became a deep dull red4 ,and still one shot downwards4 ,small patches of powdery1 grey snow sprinkled with tiny round spots were tucked away here between the red cinders1 and the whole slope was covered with the straw sandals of former pilgrims4 ,they were scattered over the red cinders like a new kind of vegetation hardier than the rest1 and there were thousands on thousands of them4 ,and still we shot downwards4 ,at too steep an angle now to be brought up merely by the weight of the cinders1 so that we were obliged to invent brakes with our more or less free foot1 our extended arms1 or the angle of our bodies2 and we were very glad indeed of our staves to put any sort of term to the long uncomfortable slide4 ,it was a long while before we passed out of the zone of the waraji1 and saw real little green things growing between the cinders4 ,they looked utterly miserable and degenerate1 but they did make the ballast solider1 and the sliding easier4 ,it was a gigantic slide1 but we brought up at last on a ridge of grey rock1 over which we had to climb carefully1 for it was full of holes4 ,on the other side of this ridge the degenerate green weeds had grown into degenerate green plants2 and after a few more slides and climbs the plants became bushes1 stunted and miserable1 but bushes1 and we came out on to a sort of natural grass platform1 before the rest-house of ,no4 #d1 ,yoshida side4 ,it was dirty1 the first dirty house ,i had ever seen in ,japan4 ,below us1 as though stopped short by a word of command1 8,thus far and no further10 were the trees2 the tops of the nearest were on a level with the platform1 but not one grew upon it4 ,with the cinder-slope behind us we stepped off the grass platform straight into the forest4 ,it was a beautiful forest4 ,first firs1 and then1 as we went downwards1 green trees1 small oaks and cryptomerias of all kinds4 ,to feet weary of ballast-heaps1 the forest footpath was a rest refreshing1 and the delight of growing trees and green fresh leaves after waraji and cinders1 an enchantment4 ,but ,fuji had not finished his surprises or his trials4 ,soon the pathway disappeared from under our feet1 and only the roots of the trees remained4 ,on these we had to walk1 and they were slippery1 knotted1 and far apart1 and full of tangled holes that caught and tripped the feet4 ,a polite ,japanese student came and walked with us a little way 8to improve his ,english10 but his feet in their waraji stepped over the tree-roots faster than ours in our boots1 and we were soon left alone again4 ,gradually1 as we went downwards1 the forest altered from the austere wood of the mountain to the rich luxuriant wood of the plains1 green with moss1 covered with creepers1 dripping with big juicy drops of water as though rich sap were oozing from every vein4 ,all through the wood there were tiny tea-houses1 set under a tree and lost among the branches4 ,we passed ,no4 #a at least seven times1 each time certain that it really must be the real original ,no4 #a1 and that the 8horse-turn-back0 station1 where we could get a basha to carry us to ,yoshida1 was necessarily 8the next40 ,after the weary sliding down that abrupt slope1 the muscles of one's legs were all trembling with the strain1 and the tree-roots1 slippery and uncertain1 became doubly difficult4 ,we were still going down so steeply that the hollow of the pathway lay like a green chimney below us4 ,slowly up through this living funnel came the pilgrim's chant4 8,we are going10 and the little bells clashed out triumphant--8we are going to the top40 ,then the deep sing-song of the chorus1 coming nearer with each syllable1 grew louder3 8,top 444 the top 444 to the top40 ,we waited while the chant coming up from the green depths below came nearer1 came past us1 went on4 ,from the green heights above it sounded down4 8,we are going10 and the tiny cymbals clashed--8we are going to the top40 ,and faintly echoing from above came the answer3 8,to the top 444 the top 444 top40 99 99 99 99 99 ,and still the first stations succeeded one another1 and the tired feet and the aching muscles grew more weary4 ,the wood was dense as ever1 but less steep1 and at last there came earth as well as tree-roots for a pathway4 ,we passed through another station1 half tea-house1 half temple1 where a man sat behind a tray of thin irons stamped with the temple's crest1 and where gods and tea-bowls filled the shelves4 ,the path went through it and out again1 under the trees1 a path of good stamped earth4 ,then twisting suddenly it ended in four smooth green steps that led down into a natural amphitheatre1 with tea-houses on each side4 ,this was the ,mma gaeshi--8horse-turn-back0 station--,yoshida side4 ,away to the left were several square boxes on wheels1 otherwise the stage was empty4 ,it was1 indeed1 exactly like a 8set0 in an opera4 ,we hobbled1 it was so difficult to walk on flat earth1 to a tea-house and sat down demanding basha4 ,slowly a man entered right front1 and crossing left centre tipped up a square box and waited4 ,then another man1 entering left front1 harnessed a horse to it4 ,this took them half an hour1 because they wanted four times too much for the drive to ,yoshida1 and at each refusal1 at each expostulation1 at each rebate1 the one man dropped the square box down on the ground and the other gave up harnessing the horse4 ,meanwhile we drank tea and monotonously repeated our price4 ,after half an hour the basha was finally harnessed1 and crossing left front we got in4 ,this basha was simply a square box without a lid1 mounted on wheels4 ,you sat on a piece of matting spread at the bottom1 leant against the wooden back and clutched hard at the sides to keep yourself in4 ,the driver sat on the shaft and used his feet as a brake4 ,the reins consisted of one length of straw rope attached to the left side of the horse's head4 ,for the first half-hour the relief of stretching out one's miserable1 trembling legs was pure bliss1 after that1 basha-driving was pleasant but jolty1 and after that it became renewed torture to endure the jolting1 and the aches in one's back and arms were vigorous and persistent4 ,road there was none1 only two large ruts1 in1 over and among which we wandered4 ,the trees stopped as abruptly above the natural amphitheatre of ,mma gaeshi as they had begun below the platform of ,no4 #d4 ,and for the whole two hours of our journey to ,yoshida we travelled over an immense far-reaching common1 one of the soft ripples at ,fuji's base4 ,there was not a house or a village to be seen1 nothing but the wide stretch of green common4 ,it was half-past five when the basha started out among the ruts1 and the clear1 colourless light of a northern evening--we were #cjjj feet up--which is not cold1 yet is so colourless1 enclosed the earth4 ,the sky was as bare of clouds as the common of landmarks2 the one lay palely blue above1 the other stretched subduedly green below4 ,here and there the green was crossed by long flushes of colour1 with the red of tiny tiger-lilies1 and the pale yellow of the evening primrose4 ,behind1 ,lord ,fuji rose majestic4 ,at first a line of fleecy cloud had lain above the deep green of the forest1 and ,fuji's head was lost in mist1 but at the sunset the clouds fell away lower and lower1 until the whole long sweep of ,fuji rose up triumphant into the blue4 ,it was but slowly that the basha jolted among the deep-cut ruts of the common1 and but slowly that we travelled on1 downwards4 ,looking out across the wide flat land we saw that the whole world was slightly rounded1 slightly tilted4 ,it was like journeying over a large green apple4 ,the globe in fact palpable1 visibly rounded4 ,away on the left the sun was setting in straight streamers of pale red edged with shining gold4 ,and the green common1 with its pools of little red lilies1 and its bands of pale yellow primroses1 grew greyer and greyer4 ,fuji ,san1 perfect in long smooth curves1 stood purple-blue behind4 ,clear-cut as a jewel in a setting he rose up1 rose up1 until the rounded strength of his summit lay bright sapphire on the azure sky4 99 99 99 99 99 ,over the ruts the basha stumbled1 endlessly jolting4 ,the sun set slowly1 and slowly the colours died4 ,grey lay the common in front of us1 on each side4 ,lord ,fuji was but a dark1 still shadow4 ,and over the ruts the basha stumbled in long1 slow jolts4 ,we were very tired1 our backs ached with the jolting1 and our arms were numb with pain4 ,all around us the grey spaces of the common stretched uninterruptedly1 without house or village4 ,where was ,yoshida8 ,still the basha lumbered and stumbled1 and we looked for lights and houses4 ,nothing4 ,only in front of us the grey level of the common grew tall and black4444 ,in a few more jolts the deep black had engulfed us1 grey common and all1 and we were wandering among dark shadows that were trees4 ,in the very pitch of the blackness the cart suddenly stopped4 ,we were asked to get out4 ,the basha went no further4 8,but ,yoshida80 8,yoshida yorosh6--all right10 replied the man1 unconcerned1 as though every traveller to every town arrived in a dark wood without sight or sound of houses2 and he drove off4 ,our guide picked up the luggage1 and we followed stumbling1 straining our eyes to tell the deeper shadows that were trees from the paler dark that meant pathway4 ,slowly the deeper shadows receded1 and in their place came the dim forms of houses4 ,then a sharp turn and we were walking along a real road with the familiar knitting-needles of the ,japanese tramway shining in the twilight4 ,after a while the houses grew denser1 and some of them had lights2 but the contrast only made the pale dark of the open roadway seem still blacker4 ,large trucks1 like kitchen-tables with their legs cut short1 came sliding past us as we stumbled on1 gliding slowly down the road alone and unattached4 ,parties of pilgrims in white1 with white staves in their hands1 came unexpectedly out of the darkness1 and the lighted paper lanterns in their hands warmed their white clothes into a rich cream-yellow1 precipitating them into solid bodies from the waist downward1 while their heads and shoulders drifted slowly on through the pale night like impalpable ghosts4 ,we had reached the top of the hill1 and the road1 in a sudden turn1 ran sharply away from us4 ,the houses were on both sides now in one continuous line1 and the shock of meeting trucks jarred through the street4 ,there was a flare of orange light where the knitting-needles became a shunting-yard4 ,this was ,yoshida4 ,our landlady was aristocratic to her finger-tips4 ,she had the long slim neck1 the long thin face1 with its pure outlines1 the long narrow eyes1 the long graceful body1 and the delicate poise which is the ideal type of the aristocrat--and rare even among them4 ,when she knelt on the matting to receive us1 she did it with the distinction of a queen1 and all her movements showed that clean-cut grace1 that courtesy without effort1 that refinement of pose and gesture which only the continued culture of long generations can produce1 and which is to mere politeness or mere beauty as the subtle music of the poet to ,monsieur ,jourdain's prose4 ,her husband was a bullet-headed man of the people1 stubby and plebeian4 ,his manners1 like his ,japanese1 were polite of course1 but undistinguished1 while our hostess spoke a language as courtly as her ways4 ,when she glided over the matting1 her long sleeves swaying1 or stretched out her thin slim-fingered hand to take our tea-cups1 we felt like beings of a lower evolution1 and this higher product1 evolved by centuries of self-control and a living love of beauty1 was the human form made perfect1 to which we might1 perhaps1 one day attain4 ,even the inn possessed something of her grace3 the matting was whiter1 the woodwork smoother1 the steep stairway--set like a ladder between the walls--more polished than elsewhere4 ,the tiny medallions set deep in the shji1 which are as the handles to our doors1 were works of art4 ,the miniature garden of the courtyard1 with its hills and trees and swift grey stream1 was a living landscape1 perfect in form and colouring4 ,even the shallow brass pans in which we washed1 the commonest of hotel furniture1 had an elegance of their own4 ,and in the refined and beautiful inn our graceful1 courtly landlady knelt and offered us platefuls of 8mixed biscuits40 ,they were certainly cheap ones1 but never did the utter vulgarity of their shapes1 or the crudeness of their colouring1 strike so sharply on my senses4 ,if they had tasted like manna from the wilderness ,i could not have eaten one4 ,they were too ugly4 ,it is vivid still1 the bliss of that hot bath in fresh mountain water pumped from a stream which comes from ,fuji's sacred slopes1 and the joy of that long dreamless sleep under the green mosquito curtain in our white matted room4 ,vivid still1 the breakfast cooked over the hibachi1 with our aristocratic landlady1 every line of her graceful form looking purer and more refined as she stooped to hold the handle of the frying-pan1 while her stolid husband on his knees before his office desk in the corner looked on good-naturedly1 and the stout little maid watched the foreign cooking of our ham as though it had been a sacred rite4 99 99 99 99 99 ,we were to return by the lakes which encircle ,fuji1 and we set out that morning along a dull dusty road between dull dusty banks4 ,it was but a little way to the first lake1 but hot beyond believing1 and when we reached it1 and pushed out in our boat beyond the narrow inlet which ran deep into the road1 the heat settled down like a roof above our heads4 ,the sky was one superb arch of azure blue2 the earth in front of us a wide1 bare flat1 glittering with heat4 ,and from out of that gleaming1 quivering mist which hid the level land ,great ,fuji rose dark blue on blue4 ,naked and superb he stood against the background of the sky secure in his strength1 perfect in his beauty1 beyond words1 beyond praise1 in sober truth--divine4 ,it took an hour and a half to cross the lake1 and all the time ,fuji ,san1 set in the framework of the turquoise sky1 with the gleaming1 glittering mist of light sweeping like an iridescent cloud to the edge of his dark blue slope1 stayed with us4 ,for an hour and a half we looked1 and the form and the soul of the mountain sank deep within our hearts4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the second lake is divided from the first by a natural wall of hill over which we climbed1 the sun striking fiercely on the pathway where one small patch of shade lay black on the thick white dust4 ,the second lake was set deep within the circle of the hills1 and we crossed it in company with three men who had drunk much sak1 and another who stuck fuses into a row of dynamite cartridges and then1 leaving them under a corner of the matting in the bottom of the boat1 apparently forgot their existence4 ,these four passengers and the two boatmen were continually stumbling up and down the boat to row in turns1 and always within a few inches of the dynamite4 ,it was a somewhat agitating row1 although we were assured the cartridges were 8only for fishing40 ,it ended at last1 after a long two hours of suspense1 among the quiet grey boulders which stretched for a hundred yards between the water and the wood4 ,down the little valley beyond the stones1 a winding river of rice-fields ran like a grass-green stream1 and we followed it1 as one follows up a mountain brook1 till it dwindled and disappeared4 ,then the wood closed in above it1 and we were in the middle of a weird uncanny forest1 all grey and wrinkled1 where multitudes of thick-set pole-like trees1 covered with a powdery dust1 ranged ghost-like out of sight4 ,and here we walked1 the only living things in a spell-bound world1 walked until the earth grew thin beneath our feet and the rough grey boulders came up through the soil4 ,then for a long1 long while we went beside a grey lava-river flowing between the grey tree-stems1 a wide and furious river arrested as it swept in angry tumult through the wood1 stopped dead1 and each breaking wave turned into stone4 ,we looked at this still1 dead river and saw how the years had covered the waves with a thick white crust of dust4 ,buried deep lay that tempest of passion which once had swept burning from ,fuji's sides1 buried deep beneath blocks of grey lava and the drifting ash-grey dust4 ,yet the very stones that buried it were carved in its image4 ,and the face of that passion1 petrified and deadly1 looked up from the river4 ,and all around the grey wood stood dead too1 and very still1 coated deep with a powdery dust1 ash-grey4 ,for the spell of the river was over the wood1 and it was the death of ,destruction4 ,for miles we walked beside that ,medusa river1 sometimes we left it1 sometimes we crossed it1 then losing it between the trees we wandered where the ghostly pole-like trunks grew thickest4 ,but always the river came back with the dead passion that made it staring rigid beneath the stones4 ,miles and miles of lava1 wide1 and long1 and deep4 ,the ghostly trees were rooted in it1 the very lakes lay cradled in it1 the world for far around was made of it4 ,verily the fires of ,fuji ,san were mighty in those days4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the third lake was black1 ink-black1 black as strong-cast shadows in the moonlight4 ,tarnished and still it lay1 without a glitter or a gleam2 yet the washing wavelets1 as they poured over the stone at our feet1 were pure and clear1 and the high steep hills that half encircled it were dense with the greenest trees4 ,the ghostly wood was ended1 the petrified river gone2 on the banks of this sombre lake living trees were growing4 ,tangled and thick and high1 they walled in three sides of the lake1 and1 sweeping round in a long thin promontory1 divided the ink-black waters with a sword of green4 ,along the hill there ran no pathway1 the trees stood too thick1 the hill too steep4 ,there was no boat upon the lake nor any road around it4 ,the black waters washed to the foot of the trees1 the trees stretched green to the top of the hills1 and lake and wood were still as undiscovered country4 ,and behind us lay all the long silence of the ghostly wood4 ,on the very edge of the promontory a white house rested1 poised like a gull on the water1 but the dead-black lake gave back no reflection1 and the dark-green hills caught no colour from the sun1 nor stirred a leaf4 ,silent as the waters the house poised white beneath the evening sky4 ,on three sides the high hills shut in the lake1 but on the fourth the lava-stones met the marsh1 the marsh the common1 and wide and flat the common stretched away to the beyond4 ,a little while and the setting sun was down behind the hills1 and all the sky was darkening into night4 ,far over the common1 and purple as a king's raiment1 rose ,fuji ,san4 ,grand and lonely he stood between dark earth and darkening sky2 far off on the edge of the world1 and all the solemn stillness of the evening wrapt him round4 ,gently fell the twilight on lake and hill4 ,the grey spaces of the common stretched more vast and wide4 ,the night was coming fast4 ,beneath my feet the blackness of the waters opened as the deep abyss4 ,behind1 the horror of the spell-bound wood waited wide-eyed4 ,sweeping onwards in the twilight the indistinctness of the common passed out of sight1 the pathless hills closed round me4 ,then the spell of the ghostly wood reached out to clutch4 ,i looked towards the light4444 ,dim as ,life's hope it lay1 far off beyond the horizon1 while all the blackness of the lake and hill surrounded me4 ,i strained my eyes across the indistinctness1 and from that far-off heaven a lofty ,presence leaned4 ,it was the ,great ,god ,fuji4 ,,iii ,,epilogue ,the blue sea lies sleeping warm and still2 the sky1 another sea1 sleeps too2 only the green headlands standing between blue and blue watch1 their feet in the water4 ,and the heat is the heat of a summer's noon4 ,so still the sea1 so quiet the sky1 so calm the earth that the soft breath of the sleeping ocean comes as a rippling sigh towards the land1 while the blue sea above floats lazy4 ,from their low hill ,tesshuji's forsaken ,gods look out4 ,the temple walls are bare1 its altars dumb1 and the grass-grown court has shod even silence with a velvet shoe4 ,dreaming1 the ,gods sit undisturbed1 and the hush of the noonday's heat is deepened4 ,it is long since the clang of the praying-bell overhead called them to listen4 ,still they sit1 and look4 ,in the shadow of the doorway at the still ,gods' feet1 ,i1 too1 sit and look4 ,over the sleeping sea1 blue and still1 beyond the watching headlands1 out into the liquid sky above1 where in utter majesty great ,fuji rises one sheer line of beauty in the blue4 ,the rounded curve of his snow-crest shimmers white as a sun-caught sail1 and the long slope of his perfect form is a deep blue line on blue4 ,fuji rises as a tower1 he floats in that limpid sea above a mist-clad iceberg4 ,and the glimmer of his snow-crest is a shining crown of glory in the sky4 ,so real1 so simple1 so beautiful4 ,just a crescent of white snow floating thirteen thousand feet above the world1 and two long lines of blue sloping gently downwards1 outwards to the earth4 ,so simple1 so beautiful1 is it real8 ,a faint stir in the sleeping sea and ,i drop my eyes to the blue below4 ,beauty1 said the ,greeks1 was born of the waves and the foam4 ,once in that clear sea above1 a great blue wave came leaping with a crest of foam4 ,it was ,beauty's self1 all-perfect1 and they called it ,fujiyama4 ,beauty content to be but beauty4 99 99 99 99 99 ,tesshuji's ,gods look out over the sea1 beyond the green headlands into the blue4 ,they dream undisturbed4 ,they have looked so long4 ,the noonday heat has spread the land with a quivering haze of blue4 ,it sleeps4 ,the softly breathing sea sleeps too4 ,no prayer has roused the ,gods1 they too are sleeping4 ,the whole world1 says the ,scriptures1 is but a dream of the great ,lord ,buddha4 ,tesshuji's ,gods are dreaming1 and ,fuji is4 ,dream ,gods for ever4 ,,the ,,art ,,of ,,the ,,nation 8,all that is superfluous is displeasing to ,god and ,nature2 all that is displeasing to ,god and ,nature is bad40 ,,dante1 8,de ,monarchia10 bk4 i4 chap4 xiv4 ,i ,,grace ,,before ,,meat ,the kuruma running quickly through the narrow opening in the high bamboo fence curved into a tiny garden set with dark green shrubs1 and stopped abruptly4 ,in front of us1 where a square recess broke the long line of wooden wall1 a pile of gheta lay heaped on a grey stone block4 ,at the sound of our coming the wooden wall opened1 and a ,japanese in kimono and hakama stood bowing before us4 ,he came with pairs of soft woolly night-socks to cover ,english feet1 and1 sitting down on the narrow knee-high platform of polished black wood1 we took off our boots4 ,two giant curb-stones at right angles made a solitary step to reach the platform1 and leaving our leather boots1 looking caricatures of feet among the wooden sandals1 we followed the waiting kimono along the three-foot-wide platform4 ,round the corner of the square recess1 and shut off from the tiny courtyard by a thick screen of fence and shrubs1 was a white garden1 sunny and still1 where1 under a pale blue sky1 the tall shadows of the trees fell black across the pure white snow4 ,sliding back the paper-paned wall the waiting kimono bowed us to enter4 8,come in1 come in10 said our friend the professor1 his familiar face looking strangely unfamiliar from out the wide-sleeved silken kimono and pleated silken skirts of his hakama1 as he laughingly bowed us a ,japanese welcome4 ,the first sensation on coming into that low matted room1 bare of all furniture1 was one of intense awkwardness1 all one's limbs seemed to have swollen to ungainly proportions1 and to have grown correspondingly wooden and jerky4 ,in a flash ,i had slipped back to a child's years1 and was lying in my little iron bedstead in the dark1 the haunting terror of the unknown upon me1 as ,i stealthily pinched a mountainous leg with a hand twelve feet thick1 and trembled to feel the bedstead giving way beneath me4 ,that old sensation of unaccountable largeness1 of bursting one's surroundings1 stayed as the unreal background to my mind until the paper-paned walls closed behind me again4 8,if you would like a chair1 there are just two--0 began the professor4 ,but we had come to be really ,japanese1 and ,japanese we intended to remain at all costs4 ,so1 getting gingerly down on our knees on the square cushions that lay on the matted floor1 we tried unsuccessfully to sit on our heels with the same grace as little ,miss ,hayashi opposite4 ,there she sat1 demure1 serene1 and1 above all1 supremely graceful all through lunch1 while we1 like chestnuts on hot bricks1 hopped from knee to knee1 bobbed up and down1 tucked our legs under us like ,turks1 or bunchwise like children1 leaned on one arm1 then on the other1 enduring untold horrors of pins and needles as we became more intimately acquainted with our own anatomy than we had ever done in all the previous years of our existence4 ,and my admiration of ,miss ,hayashi grew as she sat there1 one line of pure grace from the curves of her slender neck1 rising from the folds of mauve and white1 to the thick wadded hem of her kimono4 ,as ,i looked ,i grew more and more conscious that the dress and the room were one1 each the necessary complement of the other1 the right frame for the right picture1 and the right picture in the right frame4 8,the soul of ,japan10 they say1 8is the sword of the samurai40 8,then the soul of the uchi10 ,i thought1 8is the kimono of the housewife40 ,the simplicity of the straight-falling lines1 the perfection of the embroidery on the innermost of the folds around the neck1 the richness of the obi at the waist1 there was the same severity of design with richness of decoration which characterised the room1 where two paper-paned walls1 one of sliding wood and the fourth stained a subdued brown1 enclosed the bare matted space4 ,against the one solid wall was built a slightly raised platform of polished black wood1 forming with the two low pillars of wood a wide recess1 the tokonoma4 ,within the tokonoma hung a long silken scroll where pale storks flew across the moon1 a kakemono of price4 ,on the black wood of the platform1 which was raised but a few inches from the ground1 were set the two swords of the samurai1 a bronze horse of exquisite workmanship1 and in the corner some long branches of white plum-blossom in a vase4 ,in these four objects 7as in the obi and the embroidery of the neck-folds7 lay the entire decoration of the room4 ,and looking1 one realised that great truth1 almost unknown to us1 but a truism in ,japan--the artistic value of space4 ,in a ,european drawing-room you often cannot see one ornament for its fellows3 here the bronze horse and the kakemono held the eyes2 one looked1 and one saw2 their beauty filled the soul2 next week1 next month1 they will go back to the store-house1 and others will take their place4 ,i could never forget the curved lines of those two swords against the polished black floor under the white fragrance of the plum-blossoms1 any more than ,i could forget the soft half-moon curves of ,miss ,hayashi's kimono1 white below mauve1 as she glided over the matted floor4 ,our lunch1 we had come to lunch1 opened with tea1 pale amber tea in little round bowls on bronze stands1 and sugar chrysanthemums1 rice-paste storks and dolphins1 cakes and sweets as perfect in design and colouring as though they were intended to last for ever4 ,a rosy-cheeked maid1 who bumped her head so vigorously on the floor that ,i thought she must get a headache1 presented the tea1 a bump for each guest and three as a salutation1 while ,miss ,hayashi1 folding squares of white paper in double triangles with one sweep of her hand1 delicately heaped them full of sugar flowers and fishes1 and passed them round1 one to each of us4 ,then came a long pause1 while we asked all the questions that occurred to us about kimono and hakama1 and swords and etiquette2 and then our lunch1 a whole lacquered trayful of bowls for each one of us1 with all the courses served together1 and all irretrievably and1 to us1 inexplicably mixed4 ,i pass the hot soup in a lacquered bowl1 and the hot rice in a china one1 but the rest--a golden bream on a pale blue plate set round with oranges in jelly2 slices of pink raw fish1 and a design in brown seaweed and green roots2 a deep bowl of pale yellow custard1 its surface ruffled with silver fishes1 oriental whitebait1 and its depths filled with bamboo shoots and lily bulbs and other surprises2 and one dish1 a triumph of design and colour1 where an oval slab of pounded fish1 white as snow1 rested against a green mound of preserved chestnuts1 while in front1 arranged in a curving crescent like the tail of a comet1 were purple roots1 brown ginger1 and slices of a red radish4 ,and all this you eat as you please1 a bit here1 and a bit there1 now a drink of salt soup1 then a mouthful of sweet chestnut2 custard1 vegetables1 fish1 sweets1 with relays of rice for bread1 and sak for wine1 paper napkins1 and withal two penholders to eat with1 and your ,japanese dinner is complete4 ,having tried everything with the greatest perseverance1 and wriggled our chopsticks until our hands were as tired as our toes1 we gave in and rested from our labours4 ,the little maid1 rosier than ever1 removed the trays of food1 and brought in bowls of oranges and dried persimmon4 ,at this moment there was a rustling of screens1 and a dear1 little old lady with shaven eyebrows and blackened teeth slid into the room1 and instantly went down on her knees1 and putting out her hands bowed her head right down on to them4 8,this is my aunt10 said the professor1 8a real old-fashioned woman--there are not many left nowadays--who blackens her teeth and shaves her eyebrows40 ,the little old lady laughed1 and made many polite speeches1 asking after our 8honourable healths0 and our 8august appetites40 ,at every word she made another bow1 until ,i felt as if ,i really must get down on my knees and hit my forehead against the ground as well4 ,luckily the professor1 after a moment's consultation1 suggested we should see the house1 and we all got up4 ,the little old lady was on her feet in a twinkling1 but our half-dead limbs sent pins and needles up our legs1 as we stumbled on to them and awkwardly walked away4 ,the sliding paper wall of our room hid another absolutely bare1 no tokonoma here1 only a poem painted on a long narrow board fastened against the door-post1 and in the further wall1 shut off by sliding screens1 a large cupboard1 full of the household linen1 which means the silk-wadded quilts or futon1 on and under which one sleeps4 ,sliding aside the door-panel we found ourselves on another three-foot-wide platform1 looking out through more paper-paned walls into another garden4 ,this house was just a long series of rooms with a platform and a garden on each side1 and a little square bunch of rooms at one end4 ,in one of these we cuddled down under a silk quilt thrown over a square hole in the middle of the room1 and felt the heat coming up from the glowing charcoal sunk in a sort of pit beneath the floor4 ,then we peeped into the bathroom1 containing a high wooden wash-tub with a stove-pipe running down one end4 ,the wash-tub is filled with cold water1 and lighted charcoal put down the stove-pipe1 and in a few minutes the water is hot1 and you get in1 and the longer you stay the hotter grows the water1 until having boiled yourself in the approved ,japanese way you step out and wipe yourself dry with a yard of white cotton adorned with blue storks4 ,then we invaded the kitchen1 bare of everything like the other rooms1 and with only a two-fold brazier to cook over2 one brazier has permanently fixed above it a coppered wooden tub1 dedicated to rice-boiling1 the other brazier cooked everything else4 ,that was all4 ,wooden pots1 pans and dippers were hung up inside the sliding cupboards1 or were washing in the yard outside4 ,a tiny shrine1 like a mantelshelf over the sliding door1 held minute gods in a dim light2 a paper-framed bamboo lantern1 like an afternoon-tea cake-table1 with shelves between the legs for plates1 stood in a corner4 ,this is the andon1 and inside the paper panes a floating wick in a saucer of oil burns all night4 ,our advent into these regions was attended with much excitement punctuated with peals of laughter1 it striking the dear old lady as irresistibly funny1 that it was all funny to us4 ,in the midst of our hilarity came the summons of the kurumaya1 and out we had to go1 take our boots from the friendly company of the wooden gheta1 and laden with mysterious boxes neatly tied with red and white strings1 and bunches of plum-blossom1 say stiff ,english 8,good-byes10 while the little old lady1 the rosy-cheeked maid1 and the rest of the household bowed us graceful ,japanese sayonara and mata irasshai 7,come again74 ,the kuruma curved out through the tiny snow-covered garden set with dark shrubs1 the paper-paned walls shut with a soft thud2 the picture was gone1 but the memory of it will remain with me always4 ,,ii ,,in ,a ,,cloisonn ,,factory ,nagoya is a manufacturing town with a quarter of a million of inhabitants4 ,it is full of porcelain and fan factories1 cloisonn works and cotton mills4 ,it is the centre of the celebrated potteries of ,seto1 and is famous for its embroideries and its silks4 ,it is bigger than ,nottingham or ,hull1 and is almost as large as ,dublin4 ,nagoya is both ,staffordshire and ,bradford--and yet a city clean and still4 ,a town of sunny streets and pure fresh air1 whose sky is blue and clear1 whose trees are green4 ,its #bej1jjj inhabitants are mostly factory hands--and there is neither dirt nor din4 ,the golden dolphins on its castle's roof are three hundred years old1 and they glitter in the sunshine like new-fired gold4 99 99 99 99 99 ,on the edge of the growing rice-fields the porcelain factory lies4 ,its doors are open to the sun2 and in the corner of the low1 white room1 where the workmen sit cross-legged like ,buddhas1 each beside his potter's wheel1 a yellow vase of purple iris stands4 ,the room is still and fresh and clean4 ,the whirr of the turning wheel is soft as the drowsing of a bee4 ,there is no hurry as there is no idleness4 ,and each worker1 as he moulds his clay1 looks towards the purple iris in the yellow vase4 ,the cloisonn works are built in the heart of the city1 in the middle of a busy street1 where blue-clad coolies continually load and unload the wide coster-barrows which are the waggons of ,japan4 ,the hum of working life is in the air1 and the wide road which stretches without division of pavement across from side to side1 is thronged4 ,business men in grey kimono and foreign hats go out and in2 the loaded barrows drawn by the blue-clad coolies pass up and down2 fast-running kurumaya steer in and out among the foot-passengers and the traffic4 ,and the occasional collision is followed by mutual bows and polite ,gomen nasai 78,i beg your honourable pardon071 on the part of either coolie or kurumaya4 ,nagoya factories and cotton mills are hard at work4 ,the gateway of the cloisonn works leads down a wooden passage into a tiny court1 a garden set round with the workshops of the factory4 ,and such a garden4 ,it is not larger than the front lawn of a suburban villa1 but the skill of a ,japanese gardener has planted a whole mountain side with forests of pine and bamboo1 has spanned with an arching bridge the stone-grey stream at the mountain's foot4 ,from inside the tiny matted rooms1 no bigger than bathing-boxes1 which shut in three sides of the garden1 the illusion is complete4 ,and the shade and coolness of the real trees and water1 of the imaginary forest and stream1 brings a sense of calmness and repose1 of quiet peace and beauty1 to all the many workers of the factory4 ,it is a living landscape growing unspoiled in the heart of a workshop in the centre of a manufacturing city4 ,each on his mat in the clean1 bare1 matted rooms the workmen sit1 the rice-paper shji pushed open to the mountain stream1 and the forest of pine and bamboo4 ,in the first room sit workers outlining the design on the bare metal vase with metal wires1 silver wires on silver vases1 copper wires on copper vases4 ,and each design is different1 and many of the men are old4 ,in the second room the bare metal vases are getting a coat of coloured paste1 and now the design stands out rough as a cave-man's drawing4 ,here the workers are younger1 while boys fill in the body of the vase4 ,in the third and fourth rooms the matted floor at the back is replaced by a large hearthstone1 and a round earthen oven2 in this the vases are baked1 passed back to the men and boys to recoat with the coloured paste1 and then rebaked1 recoated and rebaked many times1 until at last the vase is handed over to the workers in the last rooms4 ,it has lost all trace of design by now2 the metal wires are no longer visible2 the colours have bubbled over in all directions1 the vase is an unmeaning mosaic of a thousand shades4 ,then the workmen1 sitting on their heels on the kneeling-cushions in their clean1 bare1 matted rooms1 tiny as bathing-boxes1 polish1 polish1 polish1 sometimes for a whole year1 until the worker's hand wears down the hard smooth surface and the design shows through clean and true once more4 ,the workmen here are grey and old4 ,but the oldest of all sat by himself in a little room just opposite the arching bridge which crossed the mountain stream4 ,he wore a pair of quaint horn spectacles1 and his face was the face of an ,eastern sage4 ,he sat with his tools before him fixing silver wires on to a silver vase1 with a certainty and a rapidity beyond his fellows2 and all that is most beautiful and most difficult in the cloisonn works of ,nagoya comes from his hands4 ,the old man pushed back his horn spectacles as ,i stopped before the open shji1 and his eyes rested on the still picture of the garden with a smile4 ,i1 too1 turned to look at the row of tiny paper rooms stretching out like arms on either hand1 at the living landscape lying in their midst1 at the blue sky above1 and at the old face beneath the horn spectacles4 ,i did not wonder at the peace which lay upon it1 nor at the exquisite beauty of the finished vase standing on the matting beside him4 ,for the garden was still as a cloister1 though the cloister was a workshop for cloisonn ware in the manufacturing town of ,nagoya4 ,,iii ,,flower ,,arrangement ,we sat opposite each other on the matting1 and she laughed4 ,the polite1 audible smile of the ,japanese4 ,all around us lay cut branches of fir2 and on the long wooden footstool they call a table stood a shallow bronze dish and a wonderful cleft stick of bamboo4 ,she was a little bent old lady1 with the courtly politeness of a thousand ,grandisons refined to a subtle essence1 and she gave lessons in flower arrangement4 ,the close-cropped grey hair gathered into a slide behind told its own tale of widowhood1 and the withered careworn face its story of work and want4 ,the shji were shut1 and the light through the rice-paper panes sent a warmed white light into the room that knew no colour1 a light as though one sat inside a luminous mist1 or in the heart of the plum-blossoms4 ,a passionless1 lifeless light which was simply light4 ,and the little old lady laughed again4 8,there is much to learn10 ,i said1 stopping to watch her bending the warmed fir branches over the hibachi always to the exact curve1 never too near or too far1 and mine snapped at the first touch4 ,she handed me another branch in place of the one ,i had broken1 and watched while ,i wedged it into the cleft bamboo stick with little chips of wood4 8,very much10 she said4 8,it takes three years of learning for the pupil and seven for the teacher4 ,and the ,ijin ,san has had four lessons40 ,the fifth and last branch being successfully wedged into line1 ,i got on to my knees to admire the effect1 while ,arabella1 from her camp-stool in the corner--she considered it lowering to sit on the floor--bridled4 8,oh1 the ,japanese10 she said2 8but any ,european could learn in half a dozen lessons40 ,the little old lady bowed1 letting her forehead almost touch the ground1 as she sat on her heels on the kneeling-cushion4 8,the august stranger----0 she began1 when ,i interrupted4 ,the contemplation of my five branches of fir1 two curving to the left and three to the right1 had not filled me with any satisfaction4 ,they wobbled4 ,all their curves were wrong1 and the five stems1 instead of being hidden one behind the other1 so that the illusion of a single branch growing out of the bronze dish was created and kept1 were all distinctly and decidedly visible4 8,it doesn't look a bit right10 ,i said2 8but what is the matter80 ,the task of sticking five branches of fir1 already bent to the prescribed curves for me1 into a cleft stick had not seemed difficult1 especially with three lessons behind me1 and ,i had worked hard and been very confident that morning4 ,with a thousand apologies the little old lady pulled the bronze dish towards her1 while ,arabella cleared her throat4 8,in ,europe10 she said1 in the tone of voice adapted to a kindergarten class--her ,japanese voice1 8we do not learn such a simple thing1 we do it naturally4 ,every ,european woman can arrange flowers1 and they are flowers0 7with a glance at the fir branches in the little old lady's hand--she was busy correcting7 8not trees40 ,the little old lady was putting back the five fir branches into the cleft stick with the deftest of deft fingers4 ,arabella unclasped the brooch at her neck and pulled out what she called a 8nosegay40 ,a bamboo vase1 just a piece of the stem hollowed out1 in which the fir had come from the florist that morning1 lay on the floor4 ,she picked it up4 8,it should be of glass10 she said forgivingly1 8but ,i will make it do40 ,and then with her own hand she proceeded to arrange the ,yokohama nosegay in the slender bamboo stem4 ,there was a bit of spira1 one fat red rose1 and some miscellaneous leaves1 which ,arabella referred to grandiloquently as 8green40 ,these she crammed tightly into the bamboo stem1 and then placed it1 with a 8who-shall-deny-me0 air1 upon the table4 ,i looked at it4 ,no1 it was not a good specimen even of ,western flower arrangement1 but in how many buttonholes1 on how many tables1 had ,i seen something like it4 ,flower arrangement is taught in the schools in ,japan1 and every ,japanese girl learns4 ,if she did not1 she would not 8arrange0 anymore than we should paint or play4 ,the little old lady had finished1 and she pushed the bronze dish along the table beside the bamboo vase4 ,then1 with many compliments and much bowing1 she thanked the ,ijin ,san for her 8august kindness0 and her 8honourable condescension40 ,and the smooth phrases ran on and on1 while ,i sat back on my heels and looked4 ,east and ,west1 they stood there before me4 ,at the best1 what we aimed at was a scheme of colour1 and at our worst no scheme at all4 ,and what they strove after was line1 whether in fir branches or lily leaves1 in plum-blossom or iris flowers1 line1 and a coherent whole4 ,each branch1 each twig1 each flower1 nay1 each curve of the branch1 each petal of the flower1 each leaf of the twig1 were parts1 essential parts of the whole2 for in ,japan they draw with flowers and fir branches as we only draw for 8design40 ,and line is beyond colour as sculpture is beyond painting4 ,the sun through the walls of rice-paned shji spread a warmed white light through the room1 a limpid1 liquid light in which there was no shadow4 ,the little old lady had been busy tidying up4 ,the room was one clear sheet of pale yellow matting4 ,on the low empty tokonoma stood the bronze dish and its pure line drawing in fir4 ,arabella was offering the bamboo vase and its mixed contents 8as a model10 and the little old lady bowed to the ground4 ,once more ,i looked at the bronze vase and the pure outlines of the fir branches1 at the bare room perfectly proportioned1 at the rice-paned shji1 and the snowflake whiteness of that light which knew no colour and no shadow struck on my consciousness4 ,i think ,i understood4 ,colour1 as colour1 in that luminous1 shadowless room1 whose beauty was its line and its proportion1 would have been not colour but a blot4 ,outside the rice-paned shji lay life and colour enough4 ,here was but light and line4 ,arabella was removing the white night-socks from her boots1 she always refused to take them off1 on the veranda4 ,the little old lady1 down on her knees with her forehead to the ground1 was saying sweet ,japanese sayonara4 ,i looked back one last time--and ,arabella's nosegay vanished4 ,,iv ,,god',s ,,messenger ,the first fresh heat of summer is here1 and outside the city the rice-fields spread in quivering pools of green4 ,it is the month of the ,iris1 ,hana-shbu1 and along the raised causeway1 between the fields1 the miniature hansoms1 drawn each by the bent dark figure of the kurumaya1 silhouette against the blue sky4 ,you pay as much as three sen 7three farthings7 to enter an ,iris garden1 and they are an hour's 'ricksha ride from the city1 so that the fte is select4 ,in the covered court of the entrance the kuruma are stabled in long lines under a pale yellow roof of mats1 while the kurumaya1 their black mushroom hats on their knees1 sit on the slender shafts and smoke their pipes--three whiffs from the metal thimble in the bamboo stem1 and then the sharp tink1 tink1 as the ash is knocked out against the shaft4 ,inside the garden the blue tunic of the coolie is absent1 three farthings and the long kuruma ride proving prohibitive2 but the grey kimono of the classes1 ,tokyo shopkeepers for the most part1 is everywhere4 ,the gardens are large and full1 but in no sense crowded1 for the ,japanese1 by the very polish of their politeness1 contrive to create a sense of space and repose around them even in a crowd4 ,but the gardens are full1 and the deadened clack of the wooden gheta on the earthen pathway1 as the little musm carry the 8honourable tea0 and the 8honourable cakes0 to the mat-roofed summer-houses1 is incessant4 ,we do not sit on our heels on the flat cushions on the low matted table1 under the bamboo roofs2 we sit on the cushions1 with our feet on the ground1 and the little waitress laughs1 her polished black hair shining like a metal mirror in the sunshine4 ,it is so ridiculous to see the ,ijin ,san sitting on the tables with their legs hanging uncomfortably down in front of them1 when all the world agrees it is much more natural to sit on your heels with the cleft toes of each little white tabi sticking up behind like rabbit's ears4 ,the idea of getting cramp in such a comfortable position makes little ,o ,haru's brown eyes open very wide indeed4 ,i believe she revolves the idea1 inside that metal-polished head of hers1 that the ,ijin ,san's legs are not made aright1 or why do they hide them so8 ,and surely the civilized boot could only have been invented by people without toes8 ,the open summer-houses1 behind the bamboo bushes1 or on the tops of the miniature hills1 are full of family parties1 with children in all stages of age and coiffure1 from the shaven baby heads and the stiff horsehair ribbon bunches of the children1 up through the flat fronts and the first freehand designs of the schoolgirls1 to the black cockscomb fronts and the elaborate polished rolls of the grown-up daughters4 ,and they are all content to sit in the sunshine1 drink tea1 and look at the flowers4 ,they do not want to be for ever restlessly doing something1 not even the children4 ,in the summer-house over the way a party of bachelors1 students from the ,university perhaps1 are also drinking tea and smoking cigarettes2 one of them is writing a poem4 ,and a bourgeois ,sabbath peace is over the land4 ,the tap of the tiny tea bowl on the lacquered tray1 the deadened clack of the musm's gheta on the pathway1 is hushed1 for ,i have left the summer-house1 and am standing close down by the river of flowers4 ,iris1 the messenger between ,gods and men1 said the old ,greek legend1 ,iris1 ,hana-shbu4 ,and surely this swaying river of lavender-blue flowers1 floating out from the fleckless blue of the summer's sky1 on into the young green of the rice-fields1 is a living message from the ,gods4 ,a message of beauty and peace1 and of the holiness that springs from these4 ,a message which this cultured1 courtly1 beauty-loving people alone know how to create--and how to read4 ,for many generations have lived and died1 tenderly caring for ,god's ,messengers1 before these flowers learned to unfold their petals in a hundred ways1 and wear a thousand hues from pink to purple1 from blue to grey1 from grey to black or to the purest white4 ,the river of exquisite blossom flows on1 straight out from the fleckless blue1 on into the delicate green1 bearing ,god's message of beauty to man4 ,and these who see it know how to read4 ,v ,,the ,,art ,,of ,,the ,,people ,it is usual in judging the art of a nation to consider solely the art of the artists and never the art of the people4 ,the first is naturally of greater importance2 it affords moreover an easy method of comparison and enables art critics to register the high-water mark of a country's art1 and this being found1 the question is considered settled and the nation judged accordingly4 ,we say the ,french are artistic and think promptly of ,corot1 ,meissonier1 or ,puvis de ,chavannes1 not of the people of ,france4 ,but the art of a nation1 always something less1 is often something very different from the art of its artists1 and though the artists' art will give you the high-water mark1 it does not and it cannot give the general art level of the people4 ,the ,english nation produced the greatest dramatist who ever lived1 and several fine comedians1 yet the level of the nation's dramatic instinct is acknowledged to be far below that of the ,french4 ,if we wish to get a true opinion of ,french and ,english dramatic feeling we must study something more and something other than the dramatists4 ,for it is not the presence or the absence of a certain number of celebrated men1 or even the greater or the lesser value of their works1 which necessarily makes a whole nation dramatic or artistic1 but it is the general level of the dramatic or artistic feeling in the average individual of that nation4 ,that a truly dramatic or artistic nation has more chance of producing a greater number of dramatists or artists is certain1 the conditions under which they would work being so much more favourable1 but to consider no one but the artist and nothing but his art1 and then to transfer the judgment on the artist's art to the whole nation1 is surely a confusion of ideas4 ,it is a confusion to which art seems particularly susceptible4 ,for most people1 in ,england any way1 seem to regard art as comprising only expensive objects suitable for exhibition in museums1 and not as an integral part of every article used in daily life4 ,museum art is the product of a nation's artists1 for the enjoyment of the rich and the cultured1 but the art of a people is as wide as its life1 it touches everything and is for the joy and the pleasure of all men4 ,artists' art is an end in itself1 its whole reason for existence is to create beauty1 but the art of a people is not an end1 but a means4 ,the problem before it is very different and really more complicated1 for it is to add beauty to mere utility1 and by force of art to create art in objects whose raison d'tre is usefulness4 ,and the greater the number of useful objects made beautiful1 and the more beautiful the useful objects1 and the further removed from beauty and the more sunk in mere utility the useful object is1 so much greater will be the people's art4 ,to add beauty to mere utility1 art may be said to use three ways4 ,it does it 7#a7 ,directly1 by moulding the shape 7the material of useful objects being already determined72 7#b7 ,indirectly1 by decoration2 and 7#c7 ,extra-directly1 by arrangement4 ,and if art be truly in a people1 even the most ugly and stubborn of useful objects will1 by one of these three methods1 be made beautiful4 ,i suppose that any one who has ever seen a rice-field will allow that for at least some six months in the year it is one of the ugliest objects in the world4 ,made of liquid mud1 it lies for half the year a slimy1 greasy black pond shut in by low mud walls4 ,on its oozy surface gather unwholesome growths that shine with metallic reflections1 while the manure1 in ,japan mostly human1 decomposes in the thick mud4 ,there is nothing1 ,i suppose1 much uglier1 nothing more useful1 and its ugliness is the condition of its utility4 ,the ,japanese cannot change the thick black ooze1 they cannot change the low mud walls which embank the slimy pools4 ,these1 with all their ugly consequences1 are fixed and determined4 ,but the art of the ,japanese people has yet rendered the rice-fields beautiful4 ,they change the shape4 ,those embanking walls of mud are moulded as a potter moulds his clay4 ,a series of dead square fields ,i have never seen4 ,two1 three1 four1 five1 six1 even eight-sided rice-fields can be found in ,japan1 and often the curves of the mud wall itself are graceful as the lines of a ,greek vase4 ,beneath the temple of ,tesshuji1 which looks towards the wonder of ,fujiyama1 with its two pure lines of exquisite grace1 is a great fertile plain1 a plain of innumerable rice-fields1 one of the richest in the country4 ,when ,i stood on the steps of that deserted temple and looked down1 the fields were all black and naked1 and yet the plain was neither ugly nor monotonous1 for the peasants had curved their rice-fields into exquisite lines1 and not two were alike4 ,a wall has certainly more possibilities than a rice-field1 but our modern walls1 the high brick atrocity of a prison or an embankment1 is not usually beautiful4 ,we make spasmodic attempts to beautify their monotonous ugliness with creepers or other coverings4 ,that is1 we do not beautify the wall1 we take something less ugly and conceal it4 ,now the ,japanese beautify the wall4 7,we are only considering here walls of mere utility1 where all decoration or ornamentation is out of the question47 ,except for the brick walls of the foreign buildings1 walls in ,japan are made of hewn stone usually shaped like pyramids and hammered base outwards into a bank of earth4 ,in a country whose architecture1 from the most glorious of its temples to the humblest of its houses1 is all of wood1 a clumsiness1 a gaucherie in its stonework might be well excused1 yet ,japanese walls are a wonder to all who see them1 for the hard enduring granite is plastic beneath their fingers4 ,their walls are never dead straight4 ,the line always curves softly outward as it touches the ground4 ,and this not only in the strong walls of the daimy's castle1 or the long moat walls of the ,mikado's palace1 but in the embankment walls of the tiniest shrine1 in the modern walls of the modern temple of the modern coaling port of ,moji4 ,to beautify a useful object indirectly by decoration is a great deal easier1 at any rate the means and the possibility of doing so are more apparent2 and yet1 do we draw designs on our sacks1 on our flour sacks1 grain sacks1 potato sacks1 as they do in ,japan8 ,for many months ,i passed regularly every day through a street of warehouses where sacks of all kinds1 and containing all sorts of produce1 were lying on the ground1 were being carried into the godown or were loading or unloading4 ,it was some time before it really struck me that the sacks were decorated1 that their blank yellow sides were made beautiful with a design2 but when ,i had once realised it1 ,i used to look carefully to see if ,i could find sacks without4 ,they were extremely rare4 ,the designs varied considerably4 ,a flower1 conventional or natural1 a maple leaf1 a broken branch of plum-or cherry-blossom1 the delicate outline of the bamboo in a thousand different shapes1 were the most common1 but there were others1 birds1 geometrical patterns1 rice-ears1 ,fujiyama4 ,these designs were with true decorative feeling in one corner1 rarely in the exact centre1 and admirably proportioned to the size of the sack4 ,they were mostly drawn in1 in soft blues--the commonest colour in the ,far ,east--sometimes in a pale but very beautiful green2 colours which1 on the unbleached cotton or pale yellow matting of the sack1 made complete harmonies4 ,but a sack1 whatever its business in life1 is at least an article of considerable duration1 it is not made to be used and thrown away the next moment like the paper wrapping of a parcel4 ,yet it is very few parcels in very few shops which are not wrapped up in paper whose monotonous surface is broken by just one tiny design4 ,the papers in which piece-silks are wrapped1 the equivalent to those whitey-brown covers which drapers seem perpetually doing up on our counters1 are often really beautiful in both colour and design4 ,i do not think a ,japanese can see a blank surface without wanting to design something on it1 something little1 something beautiful1 just to redeem it for art4 ,these designs are to be found1 if one looks for them1 in the most unexpected places1 on the axle-heads of your kuruma for instance4 ,a casual and rather dilapidated kuruma in an out-of-the-way town in ,japan had such exquisite flying storks beaten on to the bronze metal of its axle-head that ,i had to get out and look at them4 ,the kurumaya was amused at my enthusiasm1 and entered into a detailed comparison of these axle-heads with all the other axle-heads of all the other kuruma of his acquaintance1 explaining their respective merits and defects4 ,if there is no actual design the metal is usually beaten in such a way as to form an irregular pattern4 ,when a ,japanese cannot mould the shape of an object1 when he cannot redeem it by a design1 when in fact he has no control over its creation at all1 but it is placed in his hands as it is1 finished1 he will still contrive to add beauty to it merely by arrangement4 ,i first noticed this on board the steamer going out1 where the ,japanese 8boy0 arranged the extra blanket on the berth in a new design each day4 ,he folded it into lotus leaves and chrysanthemums1 into half-opened fans and half-shut buds4 ,he had one wonderful arrangement which1 being patriotic1 was more often repeated than the rest4 ,the blankets of the steamship company had1 instead of the usual stripes at top and bottom1 just two thick wavy lines of deep red--the steamer's flag was two wavy red lines on a white ground2 by some wonderful twist of his fingers the 8boy0 would fold that blanket into the rising sun1 with the four red lines coming out of it like blood-red rays4 ,it sounds difficult1 but he did it so perfectly that ,i recognised the flag of ,japan the moment ,i saw it4 ,nor was he exceptional2 the other 8boys0 on board were just as artistic1 all the other cabins1 for in the course of the voyage ,i entered most of them1 were equally decorated1 though in most cases the art had been quite lost on the occupants4 ,a ,japanese servant1 any servant1 even one in a hotel1 will set out your hair brushes1 clothes brushes1 nail scissors1 collar box1 tooth-powder tin on the ordinary average hotel dressing-table and make a design of them4 ,the toilette table will somehow be a picture1 an artistic whole4 ,it was an application of art ,i tried hard to learn1 and failed dismally4 ,after awhile ,i could manage something with the brushes2 but the nail scissors1 and more especially the tooth-powder tin1 remained1 in my hands1 the unbeautiful necessary articles which they intrinsically are4 ,we make in ,europe various attempts at beautifying our food4 ,we put parsley on white dishes round cold mutton1 and paper frills on ham bones where the pins are dangerous4 ,on special occasions1 such as a ,lord ,mayor's banquet or a cookery exhibition1 we serve pastries as ,tower ,bridges1 or jellies as broken lutes1 but we do not consistently arrange our food so that each dish is a colour scheme and an art design of its own4 ,i lunched once with a professor in ,tokyo2 it was a modest meal in the house of a man badly off1 according to our ideas1 but when the red-lacquered trays came in1 each lunch on its own tray1 and all the courses served together1 ,i could not restrain a cry of delight4 ,the whole set out in its red-lacquered tray was a picture1 each dish in itself was another4 ,the golden bream lay on a pale blue dish2 an oval slab of pounded fish1 pure white in colour1 rested against a mound of lime-green chestnuts2 in front and lying in a crescent curve were purple roots1 brown ginger1 and tiny slices of red radish4 ,it was simply a triumph4 ,i have eaten pinky brown soup in which the curved peel of an orange floated like a golden dolphin2 pale yellow custards1 served in delicate blue bowls1 whose surfaces were ruffled with silver fishes2 white rice-moulds wrapped in the delicate tendrils of a vine-green seaweed2 thin slices of pink raw fish1 the colour of an uncooked salmon1 laid out on green dishes and garnished with little heaps of olive seaweed shaven fine and eaten with a burnt-sienna sauce4 ,the very hawkers in the streets serve their one-rin 7#aj to a d47 sweetmeats or their snow-white tfu daintily1 on plates of appropriate colour1 artistically set out4 ,the rice-paste biscuits are veritable works of art in shape and colour4 ,you can eat almost every variety of chrysanthemum1 as well as see it1 and the colouring1 all vegetable1 is almost as beautiful4 ,we have1 ,i believe1 in ,england1 a profession called 8window-dressing10 and in a few cases this does truly attain to art4 ,but with us it always ends at the windows4 ,enter the shop and1 unless it is a showroom1 you stand in the midst of undigested cargoes of goods2 and whose eye has not been pained by heaped rolls of stuff where a post-office red will lie1 as often as not1 on the top of a crimson and underneath a magenta8 ,that is a thing which could not happen in ,japan2 the eye of the young man behind the counter would forbid it4 ,i once watched a whole consignment of silks being put away on shelves in a shop in ,tokyo4 ,it was the ,european side of the establishment1 so that the shop was fitted with counters1 chairs1 and the usual drapers' shelves1 the silks1 too1 told the same tale in their width and pattern4 ,it was only a boy who was putting them away1 sixteen at the outside1 yet he did it with a conscious choice1 and when he had finished1 the silks1 which ran through the whole gamut of colour1 harmonised delightfully4 ,but the real ,japanese shops are more beautiful still4 ,to go over the ,mitsui is to walk through a gallery of pictures in still life4 ,here are no heaps of undigested goods1 no mere piles of articles1 but a definite and deliberate setting forth of certain things which left the impression that the clerks of the ,mitsui posed their silken goods as an artist his model4 ,the ,mitsui is one of the best shops in ,tokyo2 to be perfectly fair compare it with one of our 8art salesmen40 ,but the best of our shops tie up their parcels in whitey-brown paper with tow-coloured string1 thinner or thicker according to the weight of the parcel4 ,in the ,mitsui the string is all pure white or scarlet-red1 and each parcel is tied with a strand of both laid side by side1 the heavier the parcel the greater the number of scarlet and white strings1 always laid side by side1 until sometimes they make a wide white line above a wide red one1 kept evenly together by a skilful knot4 ,the ends1 too1 are not snapped off anyhow after tying an ugly knot1 but are cut slantwise1 to form a ,v or a point1 and even the knot is beautiful because it is a coherent whole1 and not a conglomeration of successive ties4 ,so far1 all these things1 rice-fields1 sacks1 and food1 with the sole exception of the blankets and hair brushes1 have been exclusively ,japanese1 the nation has evolved them in itself1 and by itself1 and consequently in comparing them with things ,european it has only been possible to take similar and not identical objects4 ,but since their first contact with ,europe1 and more especially during the last thirty years1 the ,japanese have borrowed a certain number of articles directly from the ,west4 ,they have borrowed beer-glasses1 windows1 and wall-papers4 ,and from the ,dutch1 three-hundred years ago1 they took pipes and tobacco pouches4 ,a light kind of lager beer is rapidly becoming a universal drink in ,japan4 ,there are several native breweries1 and those places where beer has not penetrated are considered hopelessly 8old-fashioned40 ,after the beer came the beer-glasses1 and though the art of the nation has not been long at work upon them1 they are already very different from their ,european models4 ,it must be remembered1 too1 that glass was unknown to the ,japanese until it was introduced from the ,west4 ,the first thing which the nation did when it set to work upon beer-glasses was to reduce the size1 otherwise they would have been out of all proportion to the rest of the dinner service1 and so the beer-glasses of ,japan are small as dolls' tumblers in which1 if you are lucky1 you will find three sips of beer under the egg-white froth4 ,if this example illustrates the love of the little1 generally supposed to be the chief characteristic of the ,japanese1 the case of the windows will show their dislike to unredeemed blank space1 and at the same time their knowledge of the artistic value of space in design4 ,so long as windows only existed in houses built in the style called 8foreign10 they remained severely ,western1 just another ,european object like the railway or the telegraph set up in the land1 but when they began to be introduced into ,japanese houses1 then the art of the nation set to work upon them4 ,they are still rare1 but in a few private houses and in some of the best native hotels windows exist4 ,they do not open4 ,they were not introduced to supply ventilation1 an unnecessary consideration in a ,japanese house1 which is all draughts1 nor really for light1 the paper panes of the shji admitting light readily2 but just in order that the person inside might have another picture before his eyes--the picture of what lies without4 ,the window then is not a glass fitting to an oblong hole knocked into a wall1 but a broad band of glass running round the whole length of the shji at just that distance from the ground which will allow anyone sitting on his heels on the floor to see through comfortably4 ,a pattern on this glass window would have interfered with the view1 and the window was there expressly for the view4 ,so the glass is empty and clear1 but not blank4 ,then it would have been merely useful1 and the ,japanese never stop at utility2 it had to be made beautiful1 and so the pure perfect curves of ,fuji were traced upon the glass4 ,the design was quite small and only occupied one end1 but the area of the glass was no longer blank space1 but the demanded setting to a picture4 ,there is no place in a ,japanese house for wall-papers1 but the number of foreign-built hotels and houses has created a certain demand for them4 ,also the ,japanese are beginning to export wall-papers abroad4 ,as the patterns are mostly supplied to them direct from ,european firms1 or copied from models sent them on order1 they have to please their market1 and yet ,i have seen a wall-paper in a hotel bedroom where two golden dragons drawn back to back studded a white ground4 ,it was a perfectly conventional pattern1 and at first there seemed nothing remarkable about it4 ,the tiny dragons1 looking something like a fleur de lys1 occurred at six-inch intervals4 ,then it dawned gradually1 the intervals were not regular1 they differed both lengthways and width-ways4 ,it took indeed ten feet of wall before the pattern absolutely repeated itself4 ,but windows1 wall-papers and beer-glasses are new growths1 only just engrafted on to the life of the people4 ,they are still thought of as something foreign1 whereas pipes and pouches1 although coming originally from the ,west1 have in the course of three hundred years become thoroughly absorbed and transformed by the genius of the nation4 ,to judge from the old pictures the first pipes were three or four feet long1 with a bowl to correspond1 in size and capacity suggestive of those long wooden pipes with china bowls smoked by the traditional ,dutchman4 ,at the same time we in the ,west have also been evolving our pipes and pouches1 as the art and the convenience of ,europe demanded1 and to-day the ,british navvy has arrived at his clay and the city clerk at his briarwood1 and both at the gutta-percha pouch4 ,when bent on 8something tasty10 they may indulge in skeleton-head pipes with carbuncle eyes1 or magenta plush pouches embroidered in apple-green silk4 ,in ,japan the navvy 7or his wife1 for smoking is equally common to both sexes7 uses a doll's pipe made of a slender bamboo reed1 whose bowl and mouthpiece are of metal1 beautifully finished1 and holding just three whiffs of their fine-cut red-brown tobacco4 ,the pouch is made of leather1 fastening like a purse1 and the metal snap is always fashioned into a design1 however simple--two birds flying1 a fish1 a grasshopper4 ,there is also a leather case to keep the pipe in1 like an open spectacle-case1 and the two are fastened together by means of a twisted silken cord4 ,the pipe-case is stuck into the obi1 and the pouch hangs over4 ,it was to allow of the free hang of the pouch1 and also as a finish to the silken cord1 that the netsuk was invented1 and some of the most beautiful of museum art objects produced4 ,but netsuk are not for the navvy or the people1 or if they do occur in the cheap pouches of the poorer classes they are nothing more than a rounded bead only valuable artistically as a spot of colour4 ,the pouches1 the pipes and the pipe-cases are genuinely beautiful in shape1 make and proportion4 ,they also have the merit1 rare in gutta-percha1 of endurance4 ,a pouch bought four years ago by a careless ,european1 and in use ever since1 shows to-day no sign of wear4 ,it is not cracking at the seams1 and the snap is as firm as ever4 ,a smoker1 ,i believe1 has no particular hankering after the ,japanese pipe with its metal bowl and mouthpiece1 but anybody with a sense of form must enjoy the delicate refinement of even the commonest native pipe with the gentle yellow of its bamboo stem1 the finish of the metal mouthpiece1 and the perfect shape of its acorn bowl4 ,these are1 after all1 only a few examples1 sufficient perhaps for the purpose1 but any one who has lived in ,japan and looked at the common objects of daily life used1 owned and produced by the people would be able to multiply them almost indefinitely4 ,in thinking them over perhaps the thing which occurs most frequently to the mind is the simplicity of the means used4 ,the whole artistic effect of the rice-fields consists in the variation of their shape1 in the curve of the mud wall2 in the shops and in the food simply in the right choice of given articles4 ,but through all ,japanese art1 even the most elaborate1 this same simplicity of means is noticeable4 ,i have seen the most elaborate imperial brocade which produced an effect of running water1 and it was done by simply throwing over the original blue brocade a rough mesh network of brown silk4 ,every garden in ,japan is an illustration of this point1 for a ,japanese in a dull back yard as big as a bath-towel will1 by the judicious planting of two small palm-trees1 the setting up of a stone lantern1 and the careful making of a puddle1 convey to the mind of those who look the greenness and the coolness of a dense forest1 the freshness of clear water1 and the delight of hills and dales4 ,i have seen it often in wayside inns1 in shops1 in big towns1 in factories1 everywhere4 ,exactly the same thing is true of their flower arrangement4 ,putting aside all other points of beauty and charm1 a ,japanese with three chrysanthemums1 with one branch of fir1 will produce a whole which we should only think of attempting with a shilling's-worth of flowers and two penny bunches of 8green40 ,on the characteristics of ,japanese art ,european writers have varied greatly1 but in considering only the art of the people there are perhaps fewer difficulties or differences1 and we come1 ,i think1 to four--value of space1 desire for line1 sobriety of taste1 and thoroughness of workmanship4 ,i do not include the dislike of symmetry1 because a want can hardly be called a characteristic4 ,symmetry is more properly a characteristic of our art4 ,the ,japanese dislike it1 they make nothing in pairs1 and if certain things1 such as candlesticks1 are required in twos1 each one1 though resembling the other in the main idea1 always differs from it in detail4 ,the sense of the artistic value of space shows itself everywhere1 in every form of decoration and design1 as well as in every object of art4 ,in ,japan there is no such thing as overcrowding4 ,it is one small leaf which decorates the sheet of paper wrapping4 ,it is the scarcity of articles in the ,mitsui which accounts for nine-tenths of the artistic effect of that draper's interior4 ,if ever a nation has thoroughly and sthetically realised the psychological fact on which much of our theory of backgrounds is based1 that we only really see an object by its outlines1 it is the ,japanese4 ,they have worked out this fact to its last artistic value4 ,in a ,japanese room there hangs one picture2 on the raised and polished platform of the tokonoma1 the artistic altar of the room1 there is set one bronze or porcelain vase of flowers1 one ornament4 ,these are changed as often as the fortune or the taste of their owner permits4 ,when a ,japanese comes to ,europe he complains that our drawing-rooms1 with their dozens of pictures and their scores of ornaments1 are 8like warehouses02 and after this first disturbing feeling of crowd1 when he has lived in that drawing-room for several months and finds that the ornaments are never changed1 only perhaps added to1 he complains then of the monotony4 ,for he knows and has realised another psychological fact1 that it is in the freshness of observation that the eye sees clearest and the brain works best4 ,with the sense of the supreme value of space comes an intense feeling for line4 ,whether this has something to do with the climate1 which is clear1 and the landscape1 which is mountainous1 ,i do not know2 but compare the purity of outline in the ,italian painters1 more especially in the ,tuscan and the ,umbrian1 ,botticelli and ,perugino1 with the ,netherlands ,school1 ,rembrandt and ,rubens1 where light and shadow1 and colour as colour1 play so great a part4 ,but whether it is due to the landscape or not1 personally ,i should be inclined to attach a great deal of importance to the artistic value of ,fujiyama1 a mountain whose exquisite outlines1 visible from thirteen provinces1 have simply permeated ,japanese art2 but landscape or no1 the desire for line is a fact4 ,the ,japanese draw with everything2 with the mud embankments of their rice-fields1 with the granite stones of their walls1 with the trees in their gardens1 with the flowers in their vases4 ,the whole essence of flower arrangement is not colour mass1 but line drawing4 ,it is the same with their trees1 the dwarf trees in their pots1 or the grown trees in their gardens4 ,both are trained and educated to produce a beautiful outline1 and they succeed4 ,it is perhaps interesting in this connection to notice the number of illustrations in ,japanese books where the trees are simply silhouettes washed in in ,indian ink on a blank background4 ,we should have1 ,i think1 a great disinclination to treat our trees in this way4 ,the feeling for line is very strong1 and it is perhaps perpetuated by the daily use of those dead pictures1 the ,chinese ideographs4 ,several hundred years ago the ,japanese invented the phonetic syllabaries called kana4 ,it is interesting from an artistic point of view to compare them with our alphabet4 ,a very short contemplation of the alphabet as used in our books and handwriting will show that it is mainly composed of straight lines1 often parallel1 with a certain admixture of circles4 ,now1 although a straight line is the nearest way between two points1 it is rarely or never the most beautiful2 did not some one once say1 8,the line of beauty is a curve08 ,i do not think any one's artistic soul has received much nourishment from a contemplation of the letter 8m10 three parallel lines1 or 8t40 ,compare them with the corresponding kana1 and the difference will be felt at once4 ,indeed1 we are all unconsciously well aware of the artistic failing of our ordinary alphabet1 for directly we carve or write an inscription1 or introduce it in any way into something which claims to be an object of art1 then we discard it altogether1 and either fall back on the ,gothic letters1 or adopt some kind of fancy alphabet4 ,as the average ,japanese child is taught writing four hours a week for the first three years1 and three hours for the next two1 and as their writing is really painting1 their feeling for line has at least a chance of development4 ,of the thoroughness of ,japanese workmanship ,i do not think anybody would disagree2 when the wing of the stork on your rice-bowl is finished inside1 when the chrysanthemum petals on your wooden tray curl over the edge1 when the bottom of your flower vase has a design as well as the outside1 you are convinced that the ,japanese knew ,ruskin's dictum long before he said it4 ,i have seen the feet of a bronze statuette1 the feet which were entirely hidden under the folds of the kimono from in front1 carefully finished off underneath4 ,the statuette in question cost #ej sen 7#as471 and was sold by a street hawker4 ,nobody really sees the designs on the kuruma axle-heads1 not unless they look for them1 except perhaps the kurumaya himself1 when he squats on the ground waiting for a fare2 but they give a thoroughness of finish to the 'ricksha which it would miss without4 ,most people are agreed1 ,i think1 upon the thoroughness of workmanship1 but sobriety of taste is a more disputed point4 ,we are very fond of talking of the 8gorgeous colouring of the ,east10 and using terms like 8barbaric splendour0 and 8oriental luxury40 ,these terms may have had some truth as applied to the art of ,india1 but because ,japan is also situated in the ,east1 they do not necessarily apply to her4 ,we do not sufficiently realise over here that there is considerably more difference between ,china and ,japan1 let alone ,india and ,japan1 than there is between any two ,european countries whatsoever1 be they ,greeks or ,dutch1 or what you will2 that they are not of the same race1 nor do they belong to the same linguistic family4 ,therefore1 to transfer an adjective applicable to ,india to ,japan1 just because both are ,oriental1 is like applying an adjective suitable to the ,turks or the ,laps to the ,english1 on the ground that both are ,european4 ,this is1 ,i think1 one source of error2 the others are more subtle4 ,there is first of all the climate4 ,now a colour1 any colour1 under a bright blue sky in a dazzling yellow sunshine1 will always look more subdued than that same colour under a grey sky and in a cloudy atmosphere4 ,this is simply an effect of contrast4 ,therefore1 ,japanese colouring must be judged as it is seen in ,japan1 not as it may look when transferred to ,england4 ,and1 again1 a study of the actual colour itself will show that the ,japanese have learnt how to make the very brightest colours soft in tone4 ,this fact has been well rubbed into me lately1 for ,i have tried both in ,paris and in ,london to match certain ,japanese stuffs1 or at least to find something in the same note of colour which would go with them4 ,it was quite impossible4 ,all our soft colours1 the so-called artistic shades1 are too dull in tone1 while none of our bright ones are soft enough2 by the side of the ,japanese colours they look simply crude4 ,these are all quite material reasons1 objective facts1 but there is another which only those who have stood and looked at the glorious splendour of a ,japanese temple such as ,nikk or ,shiba1 where the whole rainbow is resplendent in carved wood and gilded lacquer1 and that is their matchless power of combination and of background4 ,the temples of ,nikk or ,shiba are both built in the midst of a wood2 the dark1 deep1 sober forms of the giant pine-trees stand all around4 ,this is the setting2 then between each gorgeous gateway comes a still clear space of court1 paved with quiet grey pebbles2 and when the glory culminates in the temple's interior the building is of unstained1 unpainted wood1 soft as the dust-brown carpet of the beech-leaves when the sun's rays are level4 ,but the temples1 supreme in their way among all the products of ,japanese art1 are exceptional4 ,the average ,japanese room is colourless1 luminous1 but practically colourless4 ,the floor is of the palest yellow matting1 the one or two solid walls of the room are washed in the softest of bark browns1 the wood of the tokonoma is dark and polished1 and the other walls are shji1 that is1 composed entirely of small panes of rice-paper4 ,through this paper the sunlight comes luminous but colourless4 ,to sit in that room is like living in the heart of the plum-blossom1 or within the petals of a warm white rose4 ,in their dress the ,japanese are equally subdued3 the men wear mostly grey or dust-coloured silks1 the women soft mauves1 blues and greys4 ,it is only the children who are dressed in bright colours and gay patterns4 ,all the working classes1 both men and women1 wear a dark indigo blue4 ,the ,japanese wear no jewellery4 ,precious stones they have1 exquisite mauve and purple amethysts1 crystals of blood-red splendour or soft and milky as flushing pearl4 ,and the rich man buys these1 not to wear1 but to look at1 as works of art1 as exquisite natural objects4 ,he never hangs them round his own neck1 or enmeshes his womankind in them4 ,the ,japanese are1 ,i believe1 the only nation on the earth who know and value precious stones1 and yet wear no jewellery4 ,might not this be considered convincing evidence of their essential sobriety of taste8 ,even the landscape1 though supremely beautiful and sunny1 is never flaunting4 ,there are too many sober green pine-trees1 and pale1 bewitching bamboos for that4 ,i have never seen anywhere in ,japan1 in the poorest house1 in the cheapest shop1 anything that was tawdry or even 8loud10 except in that part of porcelain and other factories which supply goods1 mostly from 8foreign0 patterns1 for the ,european market4 ,in this enumeration of the characteristics of ,japanese art1 you will perhaps wonder why ,i have omitted the very popular one of their love of the little1 the small1 the minute4 ,i have left it out simply because ,i do not believe it exists as such4 ,many writers have exclaimed in paragraphs sprinkled with interjections on this passion for the little which they say the ,japanese possess2 and they have apparently seen in it nothing but a blind unreasoning prejudice for the something small as opposed to the something great4 ,i think this opinion is mostly due to the 8little knowledge0 of the tourist or the restricted knowledge of the specialist4 ,it leaves also entirely unexplained and inexplicable the ,dai ,butsu of ,kamakura1 a bronze statue of ,buddha1 fifty feet high and of the most exquisite workmanship2 the ,buddhas of ,kyoto and of ,nara2 the big bronze bell of ,kyoto1 the largest hanging bell in the world1 besides that at ,chion-in1 the second largest1 and at ,nara1 the third2 the ,hongwanji at ,kyoto1 the walls of the castle at ,osaka--and the battle of ,mukden4 ,a wider acquaintance with the ,japanese people and the realities of their daily life will show1 ,i think1 that this so-called love of the little is really a highly cultivated and acute sense of proportion1 where it is not purely ethical4 ,the ,japanese beer-glass1 you will remember1 was the size of a doll's tumbler4 8,why80 8,oh1 because they have a passion for little things0 is certainly the easiest and most obvious answer4 ,but follow that glass to its home on its ,japanese dinner tray1 in its ,japanese room1 and you will see that its littleness is in exact proportion to the tray and the room4 ,nor are the rooms so small1 but because we insist on bringing our encumbering 8foreign0 ideas into them4 ,there is no furniture in a ,japanese room1 no furniture of any kind whatsoever4 ,two kneeling-cushions and a round box1 a brazier1 are the only possible objects which could come under that heading1 therefore the whole space within the four walls of a room is space for movement4 ,if a measurement were taken of the actual feet of free space in many a modern ,european drawing-room1 ,i believe that it would be found to be something less than that in the 8tiny0 ,japanese apartment4 ,another thing to be borne in mind is that life in ,japan is lived1 not above the floor on chairs1 but on the floor itself4 ,try living on the floor and you will find the whole horizon of a room opening out in the most astonishing way4 ,what we call a stool1 for instance1 represents the same level as a table4 ,the actual difference in the height of the eyes sitting on one's heels on a ,japanese floor and on a chair is really between two and three feet1 while it must also be remembered that ,japanese eyes1 belonging as they do to a body shorter on the average than our own1 come still nearer to the ground4 ,thus a careful examination of the things which are small in ,japan1 which they have deliberately chosen to make small1 copied smaller than the foreign originals1 will show1 ,i think1 that it is due to their acute sense of fitness and proportion4 ,there is also another reason1 which is not artistic but ethical4 ,the ,japanese are a sober and abstemious race1 a race of high culture and of ancient civilisation4 ,when we were running about clad in the inadequate skin1 gorging off half-raw oxen1 and drunken with seven-day feasts of mead1 they lived already under an ordered and an organised government with most1 if not all1 of the essentials of civilisation4 ,and after all1 is not one of the hall-marks of real civilisation the learning to take 8a little0 instead of 8a lot10 in extracting from each atom the whole of its use1 enjoyment and pleasure8 ,children and savages are always wasteful4 ,we do not now try to eat whole oxen or drink mead for seven days1 we have learnt to get as much if not more pleasure out of one glass of wine and one slice of beef1 and the reason is that we are slowly learning not to gulp4 ,if you watch the working man drink his beer1 or the working woman her tea1 you will see that they usually gulp it down in big draughts1 imagining1 ,i suppose1 that it is sheer quantity which produces flavour4 ,they have not yet learnt that profound ethical truth1 expressed by the old epicure when he said approvingly of some young man that he 8had already learned to sip his wine and not to gulp it40 ,the ,japanese have learnt to sip4 ,their wine-glasses1 which are china bowls1 hold perhaps two tablespoonfuls1 their tea-cups three1 their pipes just three fleeting whiffs4 ,drunkenness is exceedingly rare2 it does exist1 but with a glass holding two tablespoonfuls there is time for reflection4 ,it is also more economical than the foreign variety1 the actual quantity required to produce intoxication when taken in small doses being1 ,i believe1 considerably less4 ,there is always another side to a people's art1 a side which is frequently overlooked1 and that is the art1 not in the object1 but in the workman4 ,a people's art will show itself1 not only in the actual object produced1 but in the life of the producer and in the conditions of production4 ,in the cloisonn works of ,nagoya1 an industrial centre of a quarter of a million of inhabitants1 the workers sat in peace and solitude1 not a sound of the busy streets penetrated to the long series of matted rooms where they worked4 ,each room and each workman looked towards a quiet garden1 cool with running water1 and still with the deep mystery of the pines4 ,in the modern porcelain factory1 dedicated to the production of goods for the 8foreign0 market1 the long white room looked out through open doors upon the waving rice-fields1 and each potter's wheel was turned to see the branch of purple iris standing in its yellow vase4 ,there is a cotton factory in ,japan which is a positive addition to the beauty of the landscape4 ,nor is it only the big and wealthy workmen who produce good art4 ,some of the most beautiful silver enamel-ware in ,tokyo was made by a little man who owned the smallest and poorest of general shops1 where halfpenny tooth brushes and farthing sheets of paper formed the richest portions of his stock4 ,all this beautiful silver enamel-work was done in the back parlour1 and at no time could he have had more than ten yen 7#a7 worth of such goods in hand4 ,yet he was an artist to the tips of his fingers1 and the sheen and colour of his enamelled silver lotus flowers were a joy to the beholder4 ,in ,nikk there was a carpenter who made wooden trays for the inhabitants4 ,his stall1 the merest shanty1 was the littlest imaginable1 yet he carved me a wooden box with a design in chrysanthemums which was skilled artistic work1 and even his cheap wooden trays had the stamp of art4 ,he did them with a penknife1 and the whole surface of the tray was grooved in shallow curving lines4 ,and the worker himself8 ,if there is art in the product and in the conditions of production1 what of the producer8 ,is there art in his life and his tastes8 ,is there art in the life of the labourer1 of the coolie and the 'ricksha man8 ,is there art in the daily life of the common people as well as in the things they use8 ,a man's tastes are known by his pleasures4 ,when the common people of ,tokyo make 8,bank ,holiday0 they go to see a handful of pink cherry-blossoms against the blue of an ,april sky4 ,they walk politely1 looking up at the trees1 and though the crowd is thick1 endless1 nobody pushes or fights or swears4 ,no special posse of policemen is turned out to keep order4 ,down the long two-mile avenue of cherry-trees at ,mukojima the crowd wanders amiably1 and the municipality of ,tokyo has never thought to invent a single penalty for the destruction of young trees and shrubs4 ,the world stares contentedly1 drinks tea1 and goes home again4 ,and this is considered to be the rowdiest crowd at the most popular resort on the favourite 8,bank ,holiday0 of the year4 ,the blossoming of all the other flowers1 plum1 peach1 azalea1 peony1 wistaria1 iris1 lotus1 convolvulus1 maple1 chrysanthemum1 are equally visited1 and advertised daily in the newspapers4 ,the people of ,japan take few holidays1 but those they do take are almost always at the time of the flower festivals4 ,when they can afford something more expensive they go to the 8,royal ,academy10 which opens its doors twice in the year for the aristocratic sum of #c sen 7d47 gheta 7wooden clogs7 and umbrellas left outside1 #e rin 7#aj rin make d474 ,the other picture exhibitions1 not having the status of the ,tokyo 8,royal ,academy10 are more moderate1 averaging #a to #b sen for admission1 and gheta1 free4 ,the entrance to the exhibitions of bronze1 lacquer1 porcelain and other arts is the same4 ,even on the basis of ,japanese incomes1 where a ,general earns #cjj a year1 the ,headmaster of a ,public ,school #afj and a coolie #f;d4 a day1 the charges are exceedingly moderate4 ,and the people1 the real working people1 go4 ,i should be curious to find out how many working men have paid at the turnstiles of ,burlington ,house4 ,besides art exhibitions1 ,japanese workmen go to the theatre1 but this is a taste they share with many other nations2 what is all their own is their love of pilgrimages1 not only to temples of religious repute1 but to places of celebrated beauty4 ,fujiyama is yearly ascended by hundreds of thousands of pilgrims4 ,here religion and beauty are mingled4 ,for the great mountain is sacred4 ,so is almost every spot in ,japan that is particularly beautiful4 ,as one journeys through the country1 the traveller will always find that the most beautiful point of view1 the grandest scene1 the loveliest nook1 has a temple1 or at least a wayside shrine1 set up by the common people and tended by them4 ,there never was a nation since the days of ,ancient ,greece who so entirely believed that beauty is sacred1 or who so entirely disbelieved that art can be divorced from ethics4 ,they have the love of beauty innate and inalienable4 ,a man ,i knew was once crossing ,tokyo in a 'ricksha2 he was a prosperous1 commercial being with a vast contempt for the 8heathen40 ,it was late afternoon4 ,his kurumaya1 after looking round at him several times1 suddenly stopped short1 and waving his hand to the west said respectfully but firmly3 8,honourably please to observe the unusual glory of the sunset40 8,and ,i told him to jolly well get on10 was the end of the story as ,i heard it4 ,a favourite pastime of the 'ricksha men on the cab-stands as they wait for a fare is to draw in the dust of the roadway one against the other4 ,if sand has been spilled from a cart anywhere within reach the whole 'ricksha stand migrates and has the happiest time4 ,i have seen really good outlines of ,fujiyama and of flying birds1 or blossoming flowers1 all on the roadways by the 'ricksha stands4 ,and whatever their faults1 they at least had life1 for the 'ricksha man has knowledge1 knowledge based on intelligent observation and on the inherited training of his race4 ,in the ,japanese language there is a word1 edaburi1 which means 8the formation or the arrangement of the branches of a tree40 ,merely to possess such a word shows the long training in art and observation which the nation must have undergone4 ,but this word is not a technical term used only by artists and the cultured classes2 it is a living1 breathing expression1 part of the vocabulary of every ,japanese1 even the ,board ,school educated4 ,kurumaya discuss edaburi in the streets of ,tokyo4 ,railway porters at wayside stations argue the matter with the stationmaster4 ,every peasant knows1 understands1 and talks of the matter as though he had brought himself up on long courses of ,ruskin4 ,it has often been a subject of great regret to me that ,ruskin did not know the ,japanese1 for in them he would have found the living proof of so much of his teaching4 ,but the people of ,japan not only discuss edaburi1 they write poetry4 ,there is an exceedingly simple form of poetry called hokku4 ,it consists of only three lines of five1 seven1 and five syllables1 and is written in the language of daily life4 ,the hokku was invented by a man called ,bash1 for the definite ethical purpose of cultivating the taste and improving the morals of the people4 ,he believed in the composition of poetry as an ethical force1 and he wished to bring it from the home of the educated into the lives of the poor4 ,he succeeded4 ,not because the hokku is a so much easier form of poetry than the ,english couplet1 but because the people have taste1 and art1 and civilisation in the very cells of their brains4 ,every one writes poetry1 even the typical jinricksha man1 who is to the ,japanese what the charbonnier is to the ,french or the coster to us4 ,when the kurumaya and his wife go to visit their relations the whole party amuses itself by composing these tiny poems4 ,on all occasions of joy and grief1 on birth1 death and marriage1 at the time of each flower festival1 or of any other happening1 the people compose poetry4 ,literary composition has always been inculcated as the best medicine for sorrow1 and as such is practised daily4 ,this is a little poem taken from the diary of a woman who died in ,tokyo a year or two ago4 ,she lived with her husband1 a doorkeeper1 on an income of #a a month1 and she was very delicate4 ,she bore him three children1 who all died shortly after birth2 then the poor mother died herself4 ,her diary came into the possession of ,lafcadio ,hearn1 who translated it under the title of 8,a ,woman's ,tragedy40 ,this poem was composed on the death of the third baby and runs3 8,tanoshimi mo ,samt haka nashi4 ,haru no yum40 8,all my delight has perished1 and hopeless ,i remain4 ,it was a dream1 a dream of spring40 ,here is another poem which is more typically ,japanese4 ,it was composed by the same woman after the death of her second baby1 and runs3 8,sami dar ya ,shimerigachi naru ,sod no tamoto wo40 8,oh1 the month of rain2 all things have become damp2 the ends of my sleeve are wet40 ,which being interpreted is3 8,oh6 the time of grief4 ,all things now seem sad4 ,the sleeves of my robe are moist with tears40#a #a ,the long sleeve of a ,japanese kimono is always held before the face to hide emotion4 ,it is this very allusiveness1 this saying of something simple and commonplace1 and hiding behind it a whole meaning of intense emotion1 which makes this poem so typically ,japanese1 for ,japanese art is always suggestive1 it always needs the observer to bring his share of thought and mind to its interpretation4 ,it is interesting to speculate how much the two most universally recognised characteristics of the ,japanese1 politeness and cleanliness1 owe to their sense of art4 ,if one looks into the psychology of the race1 one sees1 of course1 that this national trait of exquisite politeness was built up1 or at least assisted1 in many ways4 ,there was that stern training of the samurai which taught eternal1 never-ending self-control4 ,there is the whole ,buddhistic teaching1 which is one long gospel of unselfishness and kindness4 ,but other nations have had training in self-control1 we ourselves among the number--think for a moment of the ,puritans and our public schools4 ,and other religions preach kindness and unselfishness1 our own again1 and yet there is no other nation so widely recognised1 even by the snappiest of tourists who ever wrote his 8memoirs10 as universally polite from the ,emperor to the coolie in the streets4 ,it is a hypothesis which ,i put forward with some hesitation1 because the origins of national psychology are not for the amateur1 but ,i do think that a certain stress is to be laid upon this innate and instinctive1 but much cultivated sense of art4 ,has not the politeness something to do with that love of a beautiful outline1 that desire for a perfect curve in the relations between man and man as well as between man's eye and his drawing8 ,is not1 in fact1 a rude action a something inartistic in the social whole1 a blot of crude colour that jars8 ,the whole of the cha-no-yu1 or tea ceremony1 one of the few ,japanese things of which ,europeans have heard more or less vaguely1 is an illustration in point4 ,the tea ceremony1 divested of its subsidiary and attendant growths1 is in essence nothing more than the proper making and the proper drinking of a simple cup of tea4 ,this1 in the course of centuries1 has been elaborated into an imposing and very complicated ceremonial4 ,nowadays the cha-no-yu is regarded mainly as a useful reservoir of etiquette and politeness1 and is taught as such4 ,but the whole idea on which it rests is that for every given action there is always one1 and only one1 right and proper attitude1 that is to say1 the most graceful4 ,so that the curve of every finger in the mere passing of a tea-cup is the result of careful thought and long experience4 ,everything has to be considered1 the room1 the person1 the relation of the body to the arm1 of the arm to the hand1 of the hand to the tea-cup1 the position of the person serving1 and of the person served1 the place of the tea-cups1 of the teapot1 and the tea-kettle2 all have been taken into consideration by the tea ceremonialists1 and the proper1 the most graceful attitude carefully evolved4 ,that you may not think politeness a matter of social caste in ,japan1 ,i may say that the kurumaya when they run into one another at the corners1 the coolies hauling carts when they collide1 bow profoundly and beg one another's pardon4 ,and the exquisite cleanliness8 ,some one once defined dirt as 8matter out of place40 ,is not much of art just the putting of things in their right places1 in their best and most appropriate and consequently their most beautiful place2 in the putting of a thing in such a place that you feel it never could have been otherwise4 ,as the child said when lost in admiration of his birthday cake1 8,it's so beautiful ,i think ,god must have made it40 ,it is this cleanliness1 this neatness1 which the ,japanese possess1 a neatness which has passed beyond mere precision1 passed on into its essence--grace4 ,all this may perhaps sound far-fetched to ,english ears4 ,if we are clean and polite it is on sanitary or on ethical grounds1 not for sthetic reasons1 because 8it is healthy or right10 not 8because it is more beautiful10 and we make a broad distinction between ethics and sthetics4 ,in ,japan1 on the contrary1 there is the most intimate of relations between them4 ,the whole modern controversy of 8art for art's sake10 all the dearly cherished views of ,french critics that art has nothing to do with morals1 is simply unmeaning to them4 ,you might as well say that the sun had no relation to light4 ,i have already mentioned how the hokku form of verse arose as a moral influence1 how literary composition is always recommended as the best medicine for sorrow2 but what of a nation whose gardens are arranged to express an ethical abstraction such as courage1 resignation1 obedience1 or to suggest a saying of ,buddha1 the ,blessed ,one2 whose dwarf trees are not merely grown to make a design1 but also to express an idea and suggest a reflection2 where every single tree1 and flower1 and bird1 and beast is a moral symbol and is commonly used as such2 where a simple candlestick of a stork standing on a tortoise and holding the stem of a convolvulus in its mouth is a whole philosophy3 the stork1 representing ,life1 standing upon the tortoise1 ,eternity1 and holding in its mouth the ,morning ,glory1 a flower whose brief life1 only blooming for the few hours after dawn1 is typical of mortality1 and the impermanence of all things4 ,from ,life based upon ,eternity springs ,mortality1 whose joys are fleeting4 ,here is the kernel of the whole ,buddhistic faith4 ,the impermanence of phenomena and the eternity of law1 that is1 cause and effect4 ,even such an ordinary art as that of arranging flowers is deeply ethical4 ,the whole of ,chinese philosophy is bound up with it4 ,each stem is known by the name of some tenet in this philosophy1 and at the end of the lesson on flower arrangement the teacher sits down and talks to the class of the underlying ethical ideas4 ,i do not think there is any art in the world into which so much thought and meaning has been poured as into that of the ,japanese4 ,every design1 even the simplest1 even the most stereotyped1 has behind it a whole world of symbol1 of suggestion which speaks to the mind of the beholder as the outlines to his eye4 ,and this is the reason why no design is ever unmeaning1 haphazard1 as it so often is with us4 ,it is there not only because it is beautiful1 but because it is appropriate to the place and the occasion1 because it has some connection with the object it decorates1 with the person who gives or the person who receives it1 with the time and the circumstances of the giving4 ,their art1 in fact1 regarded from the ethical point of view1 is often a sort of moral shorthand1 a very beautiful1 finely wrought shorthand1 which men can take away and think upon4 ,and this brings me to my last point4 ,john ,addington ,symonds1 in one of his wonderful essays on the ,italian ,renaissance1 says that painting inevitably fell from its high estate among men because modern life is too complex to be expressed by it4 ,that just in the same way as the ,renaissance required something less simple than the sculpture of the ,greeks to translate its thoughts and feelings into outward form1 so we in this century cannot express our own more subtle and complex thought in terms of painting1 and therefore never again can we hope to rival the perfection of that old ,renaissance art4 ,and he concludes by remarking that it is in music1 more plastic and suggestive1 that we must seek our best expression4 ,now ,japanese art is not dead but intensely living1 and it has always seemed to me that it lives1 it holds its place in their life1 thought and culture just because it has learnt to express those complex and subtle emotions which make up our world to-day4 ,and it does it1 not by imaging them forth defined and definite as our painting seeks to do1 but just as our music would by suggestion4 ,to every ,japanese painting a man must bring his own soul and his own thoughts1 and where he has none or little1 then he will turn away complacently1 saying1 8,here1 there is nothing40 ,for his are not the eyes to see all the dim eternal problems1 all the vistas of unwritten poetry which the artist has but shadowed forth2 the artist whose part is not to portray1 but infinitely to suggest4 ,,scenes ,,in ,,rain ,,and ,,sunshine 8,what it is ,that dwelleth here ,i know not2 ,yet my heart is full of gratitude1 ,and the tears trickle down40 ,,saigio4 8,japanese ,literature10 by ,w4 ,g4 ,aston4 ,i ,,the ,,moat ,it is winter1 and yet a summer sky of clearest blue1 faint and pure4 ,a white sun rides in the southern sky1 winning me to believe it summer until the cold northern wind lifts the edge of my cloak1 and ,i know it winter4 ,it is warm here in the corner of the bridge1 full in the sunlight1 and ,i linger4 ,the dark1 still waters of the moat creep stealthily along on either side of me2 in the distance ,i can see the rounded arch of a bridge1 so arched is the span and so white that ,i could believe the people had stolen the young crescent of the moon to span their waters4 ,i lean on my bamboo parapet and look4 ,the dark still waters run between brown stone walls all overhung with the twisted limbs of the fir-trees1 such big strong branches lying almost along the ground1 and twisted as if in a vain endeavour to get back to the earth beneath4 ,i watch the thick strong branches1 soberly green1 the masses of foliage riotously so1 a green line and its shadow4 ,the stone banks of the moat are unhewn and uncemented1 but their surface is one unbroken line of sober brown2 and ,i look at the long wave of muddy finger-marks traced by the tide's edge1 and now high up the wall1 and drop my eyes to the deep mud-brown of the waters below4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the bamboo parapet grows hot1 hotter4 ,i wonder who laid those stones1 and who keeps them so free of grass and weeds4 ,on the whole they are not more silent and solid than the big limbs of the trees above4 ,past the bridge in the distance is an unkempt space of yellow grass1 then a tall red building shoots abruptly into the sky4 ,the small brown policeman1 hidden by his military cloak and sword1 stands motionless as ,i4 ,am ,i dreaming that this is a city of a million souls8 ,blue1 green1 brown1 black2 sky1 trees1 stones1 water2 a white sun1 a white bridge--and suddenly the two seem to meet in a whirl of dust1 my scale of colours vanishes and with it the dreamy quiet and the summer sun4 ,a clatter of gheta on the bridge1 two kuruma past the policeman1 a boat on the moat1 the voice of the tfu man following his bell along the road1 the shadow of the tall house over the world--and ,i awake to winter and the town4 ,,ii ,a ,,rainy ,,day ,rain6 ,and the world lies like an impressionist picture washed in with white4 ,shut up in my miniature hansom1 with the apron up to my eyes and the roof down to the brim of my hat1 it passes before me in misty unreality4 ,but for an occasional bob of the black mushroom hat of my kurumaya as he pulls the 'ricksha out of a hole1 ,i am drawn by an invisible force4 ,it has rained for a week1 and the streets are bogs1 the puddles--ponds4 ,the wind drives the rain with a murmured 8ssssh0 against the tarpaulin sides of the kuruma1 but in front there is no rain1 only an intangible1 shadowy whiteness between the world and me4 ,the green bank of the moat1 the dark water1 even the fir-trees whose green arms stretch down long fingers into the water1 are uncertain and swollen as the world to sleepy eyes4 ,black kuruma splash past me1 with the large glass eye in their aprons shadowly suggestive4 ,the coolie in his straw raincoat1 just a walking sheaf finishing in two bare brown legs1 plods on1 a golden figure against the grey4 ,a long string of carts pass by me1 long narrow carts drawn by long thin horses2 cart and horses hidden under a structure of yellow oil-paper1 until they look like huge golden bats or mythical dragons4 ,and with his back to the head of the horse1 a halter in one hand1 a yellow paper umbrella in the other1 his bare brown legs lost in the mud1 the walking sheaf moves on4 ,all the world to-day is four inches higher than its wont2 and the stilt-like gheta seem an uncertain footing for their owners4 ,bare to the thigh is the kurumaya1 and his brown legs look like the statues of ,greece sunned into life1 so perfect are their outlines4 ,down the vanishing road are two pale yellow umbrellas1 gold on grey1 and ,i marvel at the beauty of the colour4 ,suddenly round the bend of the street comes a third--foreign1 black--and in a flash the beauty goes2 a muddy road in the drenching rain alone is left1 cold1 prosaic4 ,and ,i shiver in my kuruma4 ,,iii ,,mm 7,,plum-,,blossoms7 ,they lay in fleece-white purity down the hillside1 and the brooding stillness of that garden was as a sheltering wing above the world4 ,beneath one's feet the six-sided tiles set in the brown earth were clean with a ,dutch cleanliness1 and the soil all around had been raked with the same quaint precision4 ,not a fallen leaf1 nor the foot-mark of a bird1 marred the soft brown surface--only the narrow line of glazed tiles ran on and on under the trees4 ,on every side the curve of the hill sloped upwards1 outwards1 drawing the white garden nearer as a mother draws her child close within her arms4 ,a hot sweet scent is in the air1 delicate as honeysuckle1 fragrant as the pine1 half-soft1 half-spiced--the scent of the blossoming plum1 mm1 the emblem of chastity1 of womanly purity and strength4 ,the pale grey stems of the trees are bent and old2 some are covered with a grey-green moss1 and between their silvered stems ,i walk as in the cloistered calm of ruined abbeys4 ,up through the white fleece of blossom overhead bright stars of blue shine down4 ,the sun-warmed presence of the living earth draws her children near4 ,in all the world there is no sound4444 8,like as a hen gathereth her chickens40 444 ,is not that the white wing of the eternal mother overhead8 ,and the warm1 sweet fragrance of herself is all around4 ,,iv ,,wet ,,leaves ,it had rained all night and all day2 big1 solid drops of rain that fell as compactly through the air as battalions of small shot1 but at twilight the raindrops dwindled1 slackened1 dwindled1 ceased4 ,the clear1 colourless sky1 which the whole day long had shot down its drops of rain1 drew together in grey clouds1 growing momentarily greyer1 thicker and more grey1 and shining with a pale light as though far away behind those thick coverings a great white light was burning4 ,the stones on the pathway were all wet and shining and crunched down into little pools of water under one's heels4 ,the trees were dripping raindrops at each leaf1 the trunks of all the pines were a dark brown with wet4 ,in the garden there was peace1 a peace of plants weighed down with raindrops1 and very tired4 ,up on the damp hillside the note of a solitary bird sounded forlornly4 ,uguisu1 the ,japanese nightingale was calling4 ,one sweet short song1 and then a greater silence4 ,above the little grey shrine to ,inari1 the ,fox ,god1 two golden oranges swayed out against the dark green bush4 ,the raindrops on their under sides trickled slowly over the little temple1 and down the miniature steps1 while those on the upper sides stood out in little clusters growing larger and larger until an imperceptible stir of the heavy fruit sent them chasing their fellows down the temple's roof4 ,and the sky above grew greyer4 ,the golden oranges1 larger for the raindrops1 swayed mysteriously out1 bright yellow against dark green1 in a damp1 dark world4 ,at the path's edge another pathway of clear water encircled the temple and the orange trees2 a water so clear that it hardly seemed to exist1 while the brown banks and the brown stones showed wet and dark as the pathway under foot4 ,and round the temple and the orange trees in ever silent motion along the brown pathway swam strange fishes2 bright blue carp with black sides and designs in creamy white1 large orange carp with tracings in silver1 golden carp with six or seven waving tails1 and solitary in their midst one white patriarch whom age had turned to driven snow4 ,and the damp1 dark world turned slowly darker4 ,the wet hillside grew a black1 blurred line2 the light behind the cloud was going out2 the trees had lost their colour4 ,all silently the blue carp moved along the dark pathway1 and the golden orange globes dripped above the little temple4 ,bright blue1 orange2 the light behind the clouds was out4 ,v ,,asamayama ,we were to climb ,asamayama4 ,the plan seemed simple and delightful2 to take horses in the cool of the evening and ride by moonlight to the last green frill of trees upon the mountain side3 to climb the nine thousand feet to the very edge of the crater2 and then in those blackest hours before the dawn to look into the volcano's mysterious depths1 all red and glowing1 where flame and smoke strive ever for the mastery1 where the long orange tongues leap up through rolling purple masses of the smoke2 and all around and all below1 as far as eye can pierce1 is lurid glowing red4 ,and still on the crater's treacherous sides which hold smoke and flame unsteadily as a drunkard holds his cup1 to look down fascinated until they crumble beneath one's feet1 and the thrill of terror bites in the memory of the mighty force indelible4 ,then to breakfast under the sheltering walls of the old crater2 to watch the darkness melt before the coming day1 to see the sun rise swiftly in his strength1 and the long circle of the hills stand clear and blue and liquid on the upland plain2 to see the giant ridges of the mountains stretching from sea to sea with the faint white cone of ,fuji a dream upon the distant sky2 to look in the freshness of the morning upon the beauty of the land1 and standing on the cinder slopes of ,asama to trace the tortured lava beds stretching like long grey snakes among the green till the trees grow over and the forest engulfs them4 ,and still in the first hours of the dawn to ride back slowly with the memory of the crater and the sunrise making pictures in one's mind1 tired but contented4 ,the programme was delightful1 perfect1 it only remained to carry it out4 ,so we started1 on the sorry horses of the upland regions of ,japan1 and the full moon fitful behind thick clouds shone sadly4 ,it was distinctly chilly1 for the table land of ,karuizawa is #cjjj feet above sea level1 and in the air was the damp shiver of coming rain4 ,still we started1 out of the village and along the wide still plain where the dark shadow of a hill showed round as a basin on our right4 ,this was ,asama's satellite1 born of her fires1 made of her ashes1 a round1 smooth1 green hill1 cruelly deceitful4 ,the empty plain stretched dark to the edge of the misty clouds and diffused through it was a pale grey light that shimmered1 trembling4 ,over the plain and the mountain1 through the air and the shadows1 the light filtered mistily1 swaying and rounding the outlines till they looked like solid bodies seen through a vast perspective of clear water4 ,as we plodded on1 the paper lanterns held by each boy at the horses' heads turned all the wet black path to shining silver pools which gleamed as the light fell on them1 quivered like spreading veins of ore1 and disappeared into the blackness4 ,the limpid flowing air that swayed above the plain1 all luminous and clear1 grew darker1 shrank as it were together1 lost its liquid light1 turned slowly into rain1 and came down steadily4 ,we passed through a second village1 and went on1 over a rutty road1 between high banks1 persistently upwards4 ,all the sounds of the world had died away1 and the life of the woods1 the rustle of leaves and of grasses1 the long thick hum of the insects was dead4 ,nothing moved4 ,even the rain made no sound as it fell in great wet clouds upon the ground4 ,high up on the rutty road we halted1 while the two boys plunging downward through the bushes in the darkness drank of a silent stream which flowed below1 the last water we should pass that night4 ,the leaves of the bushes cut sharp green silhouettes upon the blackness1 stiff and metallic as tinfoil1 as the boys1 lantern in hand1 plunged downward4 ,but we did not go1 for the soft cloud of rain was falling thicker1 wetter1 and we were cold4 ,when each had drunk his fill1 and the metal green leaves of the bushes had flashed back into darkness again1 we plodded on1 over the common1 under the trees1 along another piece of road1 looser1 more rutty than the last1 and definitely among the dripping trees we climbed upward4 ,the moon was gone now1 hidden deep behind the falling layers of cloud4 ,and there was a hush1 a stagnancy upon all things as though an unseen1 unknown force were terrorising life to stillness4 ,not a tree had leave to stir4 ,the branches huddled dumbly1 and all the seething insect life which makes the woods so full of sound lay stricken1 lay dumb1 paralysed2 and among the damp trees we journeyed on4 99 99 99 99 99 ,at midnight the horses stopped1 in a fold of the hills on the edge of the trees1 where the blackness lay solid1 and we slid down4 ,one boy tied the horses together and sat down patiently to await our return next morning4 ,the other snuffed the candle in his paper lantern and prepared to lead the way4 ,by this time it was raining hard1 in distinct material drops1 which splashed sharply on face and hands1 and it was pitch dark4 ,the boy1 lantern in hand1 went first1 and all the light of the lantern so carefully trimmed was cut off from us by his stout round body4 ,we knew by the crunch there were cinders under foot1 by the cold wet dabs that ghost-like pressed our hands that there were bushes1 and that we climbed4 ,from time to time the boy would sway his lantern to one side or the other1 and stunted shrubs like ,london laurel trees would start into being1 and disappear4 ,with each swing of the lantern the stunted shrubs grew scarcer and more stunted1 till they dwindled to bushes1 to mere green weeds like dandelions1 to nothingness4 ,then the light fell on cinder1 piled up1 half-burnt cinder with ends of broken brickbats1 and all the rubbish of a dust-heap4 ,and at each step the wind came up and up2 colder1 stronger1 wetter it tore down the bare steep slopes driving us backwards4 ,then we would sit down upon the cinders1 our backs to the mountain1 our feet on the brickbats1 and pant4 ,it was distinctly exhausting4 ,each footstep was a launch into the unknown1 and a searching for a foothold1 each pause an adding to the weight of cinders that drifted down boots and clothing4 ,and it rained with fierce splashes when the wind blew1 with dull persistency when it died away1 but still unceasingly4 ,and that sense of an unseen1 unknown force1 paralysing all things1 grew with each footstep4 ,the chill of a dumb terror lay upon the world1 and the utter desolation struck colder than the wind4 ,we rested again while the icy wind rushed screeching through the cinders2 and1 as it died away1 the chirp of a ,japanese grasshopper came into the stillness4 ,we were far above the weeds now1 in the region of perpetual cinder1 and still that grasshopper chirped weakly4 ,but the spell was too real1 the terror too deathly2 the unseen1 unknown force took a step nearer in the darkness1 and the weak wee chirp seemed only the voice of the horror1 the breath of the dumbness giving it life4 ,the cinders grew looser and looser as we climbed1 more difficult to tread1 and the stagnant silence was filled and filled with sulphur4 ,it did not come in breaths or gusts1 or driving before the wind1 it was there in the silence1 part of it1 and it wrapped us round4 ,if dead silence can grow more deathly1 then did that stillness die again4 ,the dumb terror tightened on the world1 and the unknown force came nearer4 ,from far below the sound of pouring heavy stones drove up and up4 ,the mountain rumbled in its depths1 rumbled and was still4 ,the presence of that unseen force was manifest4 ,before it terror crouched still as a bird beneath the swooping shadow of the hawk4 ,we climbed up heavily1 up through the thick sulphur and the loose steep cinders1 up till we turned1 and the full force of the wind came sweeping round the side of the mountain4 ,we were walking on the edge1 the real edge over which you could fall1 and it was all of lava1 sticky as clay and crossed with deep black cracks that had no bottom4 ,the wind swept down here undisturbed1 the gusts of rain broke sharply on the paper lantern as it swayed from side to side to peer out a way4 ,the sticky lava softened rapidly until it sucked around our feet1 drawing them down4 ,then a long fierce gust blew out the lantern and we stood still4 8,honourably please stand very still10 called the boy quickly4 ,and we stayed dead still4 ,the gust of wind rushed by us1 rushed on4 ,then another blew till we cowered on the sinking lava4 ,it was so long in passing that the moments seemed as hours4 ,we stood like statues4 ,insidiously the lava crept above our feet1 crept stealthily1 and motionless we waited4 ,the gust died down but the wind still blew1 still blew4 ,a light quivered for a moment in the darkness and went out4 ,the boy had lit a match4 ,he struck another4 ,it flickered in little yellow leaps that showed the lantern and his face and went abruptly out4 ,again the tiny mandorla of light shot up1 the boy was holding the lantern in his hand all ready4 ,we could see the flame double as the candle caught1 then both went swiftly out1 for again the wind came rushing down4 ,it blew and blew4 ,then it blew so fiercely that to blow again it stopped to take its breath4 ,quickly in the second's pause the match flared up1 the lantern lit1 and we could move4 ,as we drew out our feet the wicked sticking lava sucked1 and the boy held the lantern low to peer out the cracks4 ,then he turned sharply to the left1 and the wind was gone4 ,we stood in a narrow roofless cave whose sides were overhanging rock1 whose floor was lava ash1 wet with big rain pools4 ,this was the old crater4 ,asama has three craters1 and two are at present in disuse4 ,we were sheltering in one of these4 ,it was a still haven of refuge after the fury of the wind outside1 and a sure4 ,there were no cracks1 no sticky sucking lava here4 ,with relief as from a heavy burden we sat down upon the wet ash to rest and eat1 the lantern in our midst4 ,it was now #c o'clock4 ,since midnight we had been climbing1 our clothes were soaked and heavy with rain and cinders1 and we were very tired4 ,the boy prosaically unpacked the hamper1 and by the flickering light he set out plates and food4 ,but before we could take one mouthful1 the wind rushed down the roofless cave1 upset the hamper1 swept the lantern along the ash before it1 tore like a whirlwind from end to end1 and left us in an unearthly livid darkness that lighted nothing4 ,for a moment we all stayed numbed1 then the boy sought the remnants of his lantern and we the remnants of our meal4 ,they were both embedded in thick lava dust4 ,we could not go on up the crater now1 for every minute the wind blew fiercer1 and the paper lantern was torn in several places4 ,we must wait for the dawn to show us the way4 ,so we huddled under the shelter of the overhanging rock and waited4 ,the livid darkness that lay upon the mountain grew more livid and less dark to our watching eyes1 till we could distinguish the faint outlines of things1 though not the things themselves4 ,it was1 oh6 so cold1 and that sense of stagnant terror1 dispersed for a little by the wind and the food1 crept back and back1 intenser1 dumber than before4 99 99 99 99 99 ,then the mountain rumbled in its depths1 and the sound of pouring heavy stones came up again4 ,this time it did not die away1 it stopped abruptly1 as though by force of will4 ,and we waited4 ,it was so cold that ,i could sit still no longer1 and1 wrapping my cloak around me1 tired as ,i was1 walked up and down1 up and down4 ,the overhanging rocks1 whose outlines showed so ghostly against the livid darkness1 rose high above our heads4 ,from time to time the sulphur thickened in the air1 making us cough4 ,and the deathness of that silence1 the dumb horror of that stillness spread and spread and spread4 ,it was all afraid4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the boy1 curled under his rock1 slept peacefully4 ,we walked and waited4 ,then1 in an instant1 two great tongues of flame shot into the darkness1 leapt high toward the sky1 and two reports1 as of the heaviest thunder1 shook the mountain4 ,the boy1 awakened1 jumped up quickly1 looked at the flames as they sprang into the darkness1 and the thunder of the second report shook the ground beneath his feet1 turned to speak1 when a sudden sharp clatter came like a hiss past all our ears1 calling 8,stones1 stones10 he threw himself flat on his face and rolled right under the rock4 ,we1 too1 rushed to the overhanging rocks and crouched down quickly1 and the sharp clatter of stone on stone went on all around us4 ,asama had rumbled to some purpose1 and she was resting4 ,then the utter silence1 the dead1 dumb horror came back1 came back again4 ,fear breathed beside us in the darkness4 ,slowly the little stars above the rocks dropped out of the sky1 the livid darkness changed to livid light1 and it was dawn1 a cold1 grey dawn1 but little lighter than the night had been4 ,still we could see1 see the lava and the ash1 so1 rolling out from under our rock1 we shook ourselves together1 chattering with cold4 ,the ground at our feet was sprinkled with pinky-grey stones1 daubed with bright yellow sulphur1 and glowing hot4 ,they were as large as a clenched fist1 with edges sharp and jagged4 ,we stooped to pick up one--the least hot--and carry it wrapt in handkerchiefs1 which it burnt1 and mackintoshes which it singed1 back to ,karuizawa4 ,the boy looked at the stones1 looked at us1 looked towards the crater1 and asked with many warnings if we were to go on4 ,we1 too1 looked at the stones1 and thoughtfully towards the crater1 and1 as we looked1 the mountain rumbled slowly in its depths4 ,seizing the basket1 the boy fled1 our one and only guide4 ,we followed him1 over the cracks and the spongy soft lava1 too occupied with wondering how we had ever passed over it safely the night before to be afraid now--too busy1 too1 watching the boy fleeing in front of us1 too occupied marking his path to think even of eruptions4 ,and somehow we got over safely1 back on to the solid cinder slope of ,asama again1 the slope that went down straight as a shoot1 and fell away as abruptly on each side as a bridge4 ,it was ground1 and after the cracks and the sucking lava1 solid1 though the cinders did shift beneath our feet4 ,we had leisure to look round us1 and found the mountain wrapped in a thick white mist4 ,by this time the boy had disappeared entirely1 but we did not trouble now4 ,there seemed no choice of paths down4 ,our cinder bridge went on1 sloping steeply downwards into the hidden world below1 and we followed it4 99 99 99 99 99 ,a little way below1 the mist sank suddenly beneath our feet1 and we were walking in the yellow sunlight--walking down a cinder slope that shone jet-black against a pale blue sky1 while all around and all beneath1 and surging up against the cinder slope1 floated a wild wide sea of dead white clouds--a dead1 still sea1 with its waves stiffened into frozen snow4 ,tossing1 it lay beneath the clear blue sky1 and the pale sun glinted on its snow-white crests1 glinted on the still gigantic billows that stretched from cinder pathway to the far blue sky4 ,it lay a silent sea of milk-white frozen waves that was such stuff as dreams are made of4 99 99 99 99 99 ,and we went on1 down4 ,as the gods of old along a sloping bridge that crossed the clouds and stretched from the blue heaven to the hidden earth beneath1 like ,izanagi and ,izanami1 as they crossed the rainbow bridge from the ,high ,plain of ,heaven and stirred the floating brine with their jewelled spear--stirred till it went 8koro1 koro0--till it went 8curdle1 curdle10 as the old chronicle says1 and the drops that dripping fell from the celestial spear piled up into the firstborn of the islands of ,japan4 ,a sudden peal of echoing thunder shook our cinder bridge1 and we turned abruptly4 ,somewhere on the other side of the topmost edge of cinder rose up a huge column of thick smoke4 ,the wickedest dead-white smoke1 which1 slowly curling over at the tips like ostrich feathers1 showed shadows of deep mauve and dull blue-purple1 while from below the heavy pouring of great stones drove up and up4 ,asama rumbled1 rumbled in her depths4 ,half an hour sooner we should have been up there still4 ,had we gone on to the crater we should have been on the very edge4 ,the memory of the sharp-edged clattering stones1 red-hot and big as fists1 came back to us4 ,we looked at one another silently1 and went on1 downwards4 ,slowly the gigantic plumes of thick curdled smoke drifted up into the blue1 and they were very beautiful4 ,it was as though ,asama wore a sweeping white panache in her coal-black helmet4 ,but the thundering roar of the eruption had torn our sea of frozen snow1 to pieces4 ,the blank white mist shut swiftly down1 and hid the mountain and the smoke1 the cinders and the sky2 only the wide black bridge was left sloping straight downwards4 99 99 99 99 99 ,we reached our horses drenched1 to sit on high-peaked saddles and journey back through dank dripping trees1 over rutty roads1 across thick green commons heavy with mist1 back cold1 wet and hungry to ,karuizawa again4 ,but we kept our stone1 and though we had not seen into the crater1 we had perhaps come nearer to that mysterious force1 itself unseen1 unknown1 which dwells beneath the lava and the ash1 and terrorises life4 ,,vi ,,camellias ,blue bay below as far as eye can reach4 ,blue sky above1 blue to the edge of the horizon4 ,and in between a steep cliff of green3 dark fir1 pale bamboo1 and that impenetrable undergrowth for which alone a botanist has a name--or names4 ,the time of the plum blossom has been1 is gone1 and the world is drowsing in the dream of summer4 ,up here in the green the quick sappy life is stirring1 ,i can hear it plainly2 for in all the world there is no other sound4 ,the trodden green path runs up1 from blue to blue4 ,midway between the two ,i stop4 ,and the green world closes in around me1 shutting out the blue ,i came from and the blue to which ,i go4 ,the tall dark firs sway slowly4 ,the pale bamboos wave slim fingers1 green as ,march lime leaves in the sun1 their golden stems are elusive and bewitching1 sunned dryads of the ,east4 ,the green world has me in its hold4 ,i forget the steep path to the blue above4 ,it is warm and still1 and the bamboos beckon as they sway4 ,how green it is6 ,all the greens a painter ever dreamt of 444 and the graceful bamboos beckon ,eastern ,vivians to bewitch4 ,i stay to look and look--never trees so graceful nor the green world so fair4 ,a step4 ,i have left the pathway1--and then--,i stop4 ,beyond the pale bamboos and above them1 its dark green branches rising upwards to the blue1 is a camellia tree4 ,each glossy handful of leaves holds a single blood-red flower4 ,and the tree stands there beyond1 above the swaying1 beckoning bamboos1 stern1 severe4 8,and the ,wages of ,sin is ,death40 99 99 99 99 99 ,i turn back to the path4 ,the blue below spreads out as far as eye can reach1 the blue above lies shining at the end of the pathway4 ,the green world between is still4 ,but the path is very steep4 ,,vii ,,rain ,the world is wet as when first parted from the waters2 and the firmament above1 uncertain in its new position1 seems slipping bodily down to join the waters below4 ,the sound of falling rain1 unformed1 continuous1 seems to have come from the time before ,time was2 while the tiny squelch of liquid mud oozing up between the bare toes of the kurumaya alone marks the present4 ,it is dark4 ,the paper lantern1 swinging at the end of the shaft1 lights up the pools of the roadway with a transient gleam4 ,for the rest1 alone in my miniature hansom1 with the apron up to my eyes1 and the roof down to my eyebrows1 the world1 with the rushing swish of falling rain1 seems dissolving slowly into the waters1 and the history of creation marching backwards4 ,a splash of wheels behind me1 and the black mushroom hat of my kurumaya bobs up above the apron1 for the hill is steep4 ,a shout1 and the 'ricksha behind me stops4 ,my kurumaya stands still1 holding the thin lacquered shafts in his hands and shouts back4 ,then he drags me to the roadside1 and1 putting the shafts on the ground1 steps over them and disappears with his lantern4 ,balancing in my kuruma like the monks on the miserere seats ,i am left all alone4 ,what is the matter8 ,a splash of wheels1 the heavy panting of two men4 ,they are pulling the other kuruma up the steep hill1 and will come back for me4 ,so ,i wait1 rigid2 for the hill is steep1 the mud slippery and the angle of the seat precarious4 ,i strain my eyes to see--a corner of muddy road1 half the blurred outline of a hedge4 ,and not all the light in all the world could show me more1 for the roof above my head is as a hand on my eyelids pressing them downwards4 ,the wheels have splashed their way up the hill1 and ,i can hear them no longer4 ,only the sound of the falling rain1 driven momentarily away by the sharper splash of the moving wheels1 comes back1 slowly1 steadily1 irresistibly1 submerging the world and me4 ,i am all alone1 a stranger in a strange land1 behind me an unknown road1 in front--,i strain my eyes to see4 ,even the hedge has grown unfamiliar4 ,it is no hedge1 nothing but impenetrable undergrowth4 ,i am on the edge of a forest4 ,and the road8 ,for the first time ,i notice how strange even the mud of a road can be4 ,this is trodden all over with the prints of naked human feet1 and the endless knife cuts of the gheta4 ,the loneliness is wrapping itself around me as a pall4 ,the dull swish of the rushing raindrops goes on and on4 ,how long have they left me in a dissolving world alone4 ,no sound above1 no sound below4 ,and the rush of the falling rain is drumming in my ears4 ,a hideous nightmare possesses me4 ,surely the trickling pools are carrying away the mud from under my wheels4 ,i shall slip down1 down into nothingness with the falling rain4 ,i dare not move4 ,my eyes are fixed on the narrow strip of muddy road in front of me4 ,the shafts are surely slipping---- ,then the rush of the falling raindrops drowns the world4 ,,viii ,,the ,,black ,,canal ,the handle of the ,japanese guitar1 from which ,lake ,biwa takes its name1 is at ,otsu1 six miles from ,kyoto and three hundred feet above it4 ,between stands all the thickness of ,kyoto's girdle of mountains4 ,built in the flat bottom of an immense bowl1 dark green with pine-clad hills1 ,kyoto1 the ancient capital1 is still the artistic centre of ,japan4 ,it is a city of #cej1jjj inhabitants1 and many manufactories1 but with little water or water transit1 while only six miles away1 beyond the mountains and above the town1 ,lake ,biwa stretches a long arm from the ports of the west coast towards the city4 ,it was in #ahij that ,tanabe ,sakuro1 piercing the heart of the mountains1 brought the waters of ,lake ,biwa1 running swiftly under the hills1 into ,kyoto4 ,and the ,black ,canal begins at ,otsu4 ,deep down in the last of the rampart of locks which shuts out the lake lies the long narrow sampan1 a white gondola1 carpeted and cushioned1 a large torch flames on either side1 and the boatman stands ready behind4 ,we sit on the cushions on the carpet1 for the canal is but just the height of a man1 and but just the width of two sampan4 ,the cement sides of the lock rise up like walls2 in front is the black arch of a tunnel1 cut like a tiny doorway in the base of the great green mountain4 ,a moment1 and we are inside1 in the pitch blackness2 rushing swiftly1 silently along in the freshness of a subterranean night4 ,the two huge torches that we carry show the darkness falling like a thick curtain before1 behind us2 and the silence is the silence of infinite ages asleep4 ,the rhythm of the rushing water passes like a breath through the darkness1 but the speed is unfelt4 ,move your hand beyond the side of the boat1 and the contact of the wall will tear all the skin from the knuckles in one swift scrape4 ,for the water rushes1 rushes silent in the darkness1 not a current but a force4 ,suddenly in the blackness there is a light2 three nude figures poised1 their muscles strained1 human strength pitted against the water's force4 ,their boat moves but slowly1 we are by in a flash4 ,the naked orange figures form but one picture1 one posture against the blackness1 a living red group from the black urns of ,greece2 seen1 gone2 and the darkness drops down in thick curtains all around4 ,swiftly the water rushes1 silent1 the rhythmic breathing of black night4 ,the darkness deepens1 deepens2 then cracks4 ,a thin1 thin slit parts black from black1 and slowly grows a narrow streak of faintest grey4 ,it is light2 light like the thinnest edge of a sword set in the far distance4 ,but the crack broadens1 widens1 rounds1 and grows by imperceptible degrees into an open archway1 showing the bright water and the green hills beyond4 ,and swiftly we rush towards the light1 while the little picture no bigger than the reflection on a camera grows curves and outlines1 swells here1 retreats there1 and passes from a flat reflection into a rounded reality4 ,the tunnel itself is no longer black4 ,the walls1 the rounded roof1 lie like shadows1 deep brown1 growing quickly greyer4 ,and above1 on either side1 the bats are clinging thickly1 in long rows4 ,we shoot into the light and see that walls and boat are covered with a fluttering half-dead mass of ghost-grey moths4 ,they coat the tunnel from wall to roof1 they lie in struggling heaps on boat and carpet1 our clothes are full of them4 ,with one last swift glide we are out of the grey shadow1 out under the blue sky4 ,the green hills rise on either side1 the water dimples in the sun4 ,slowly the grey moths flutter back to the darkness4 ,for through the heart of the mountain ,lake ,biwa has come to ,kyoto4 ,,ix ,,the ,,inland ,,sea ,the little steamer lay tilted up against the end of the pier1 for all the waters of the ocean were rushing madly through the ,straits of ,shimonoseki into the ,inland ,sea4 ,the waters lay encircled as a lake1 for the space between the inner and the outer strait is narrow1 but they ran swift as a mountain river4 ,the square-sailed junks1 all sails set1 were racing down the stream in the very eye of the wind1 while those coming up with a strong breeze behind them hardly seemed to stir4 ,and the little steamer at the end of the pier tilted herself up higher and higher4 ,she was a foreign-built boat1 though only about the size of a launch1 but she looked like a ,moorish house afloat1 for all the boat was cabin1 and all the deck was roof1 whitewashed1 ribbed roof1 with a striped awning4 ,as we left the pier and struck the full force of the current1 the striped awning and the uneven deck dipped down and down until the ,moorish roof turned ,gothic4 ,we were in the full force of the current now1 and tearing down the stream with1 as somebody said1 8all our engines going the wrong way40 ,up the side of the boat the water climbed1 pulling it down with long strong hands1 until the flat deck was turned to a gable roof4 ,for five breathless minutes we balanced between air and water1 and then we were through the inner strait which turns the waters of the ,inland ,sea between ,moji and ,shimonoseki into one big lake1 and the coast of the ,south ,island began to fall away4 ,the tide was running less swiftly now1 the ridge of our gable roof sank slowly into the water1 and the little steamer floated a white1 flat-roofed1 ,moorish house once more4 8,there is nothing10 said the steward1 8for the ,ijin ,san to eat40 ,he had been standing behind us1 balancing himself on the steep gable roof1 for some while1 but the current and the laws of gravitation had been absorbing all our attention1 and like a true ,japanese he was much too polite to interrupt4 8,there is nothing1 nothing10 said he1 8to eat40 ,for the rare missionary1 or the rarer tourist1 who patronises the coasting steamer of the ,inland ,sea comes provided as for an ,arctic expedition4 8,but we shall eat ,japanese food10 we explained4 ,he bowed1 a low1 polite bow1 but ,i do not think he believed us4 ,then he went away1 and returned bearing foreign cups with saucers1 full of a hot brown liquor called1 he told us triumphantly1 8coffee40 ,it was of the kind bought ready mixed in cakes1 and made with hot water4 ,we were pleased to know it was coffee1 and the attention touched us1 still1 ,japanese tea would have tasted better4 ,we thought the pinky-brown soup flavoured with orange peel1 the fried fish with chestnut preserve1 the custard stuffed with shrimps1 and the bowls of rice eaten with salted plums and spiced roots off which we dined infinitely preferable2 and the steward who fanned us with one hand1 and served us with the other1 saw that there was 8something for us to eat40 ,it was eight o'clock when we climbed the steep ladder which led to our ,moorish roof1 eight o'clock on a ,july evening1 and already the tall1 deep-dented mountains of ,kyushu lay dark and indistinct4 ,they lay cut sharp against a twilight sky as though they had no thickness4 ,and slowly the coast-line fell away grey into the sea4 ,kyushu was dying as the ship and sun moved on1 ,shikoku was but a blur upon the ocean1 and between them the open sea made a pathway to the sky1 all silver-grey and trembling1 a road of light to that sunken light beyond4 ,the sun had set1 and the fleeting twilight of the ,east was night already4 ,japan's green hills were turning grey4 ,night held sky and islands fast1 but the pathway shone and trembled until it died in the last long streaks of light on the edge of the horizon4 ,night was come4 99 99 99 99 99 ,from ,kob to ,shimonoseki stretch the two hundred and forty miles of the ,inland ,sea2 and in it are gathered together most of the islands of ,japan4 ,continuous as a mainland the coast of the big island runs down1 while on the other side ,kyushu and ,shikoku with ancient ,awaji1 the firstborn of the ,gods1 dip their high green mountains in the sea2 between1 in lines and clusters1 lie thousands upon thousands of baby islands2 some large enough to hold a village1 others too small for a single house2 some green with trees and rice-fields1 others a mere speck of rock reaching up out of the water4 ,from morning until night we sat under the striped awning of our roof top1 and watched as they glided past1 green islands on the blue water2 and always on our left hand the tall1 deep-dented mountains of the mainland ran on and on4 ,in the morning sunlight ,miyajima's granite tor stood knee-deep in the pale blue waves4 ,its temple roofs were brown against the dark1 green pines1 and the sacred island1 where neither ,birth nor ,death may come1 slept blue-black with shadows in the dawn4 ,and still they glided by1 the green islands on the blue water4 ,the sun travelled up the sky2 it grew hot--hotter4 ,at mid-day we had reached the narrow channel1 where mainland and island are so close that the sea is but a canal between the houses2 and the children of the two villages throw stones across the stream4 ,here1 at the end of the passage1 a great stone lantern stands deep in the idle water4 ,then1 abruptly1 as we turned1 the canal was gone2 and the wide1 blue sea lay shimmering among the green islands in the summer sun4 ,under the striped awning of our roof-top it was cool1 but outside the sun was smiting sea and land1 until sea and islands quivered1 quivered1 losing themselves1 colour and outline1 in one mist of shimmering1 shadowy blue4 ,and the ship and the sun travelled on4 99 99 99 99 99 ,five sturdy naval cadets shared our luncheon with us1 and knew the number and the tonnage of ,england's smallest gunboats1 and for all their blue uniform and 8foreign0 dirk1 their ,sayonara as they left us were courteous with an old-time courtesy4 ,and the sun grew hot and hotter4 ,the light like a mist wrapt sea and islands round4 ,the continuous quivering hurt4 ,on the other side the deep-dented mountains of the mainland1 grown bare and scraped now1 caught the sunshine on their rocky patches1 and sent it in glittering arrows of light across the still air4 ,and yet in the brown villages1 at the mountains' feet1 the blue-tuniced1 brown-legged peasants were working in the sun2 and at each stopping-place the bareheaded men and women came off in boats to offer their fruit and sak in long-handled fishing-nets1 scent-bottles full of sak flavoured with plum-blossom1 sak flavoured with chrysanthemum or peach-blossom1 white rice1 8woman's0 sak1 sak to ward off old age1 or all and any of the nine different kinds of sak for which ,tomotsu is famous1 and all in scent-bottles1 artistically tied up and labelled1 and costing1 bottle and all1 is-sen4 ,one old lady was highly indignant when after much excitement we had contrived to haul up in the fishing-net the exact scent-bottle we coveted1 and had sent her down one sen in return1 for the patois of the district makes is-sen of jis-sen 7#aj sen #b;d471 to the unaccustomed ear4 ,and the ship and the sun travelled on4 99 99 99 99 99 ,as the shadows grew the quivering ceased1 the light no longer like a veil of darkness hid the land and sea4 ,the islands grew a gradual green1 as they drowsed on the clear blue water4 ,and slowly the still sea opened wider2 the islands passed more slowly until they ceased to pass at all2 and then on the blue water there grew that indefinite look of ocean space4 ,the ,inland ,sea was ending4 ,away on the still sweep of waters lay ,awaji1 the ,first-born of the ,gods1 the ,eden of ,japan4 8,and when10 says the legend1 8the first man and the first woman met after they had journeyed round a pillar set upon the land the woman cried1 #8,how joyful a thing it is to meet a lovely man6' ,whereupon the man1 displeased that language had been invented by a woman1 required the circuit to be made again1 that he might speak first4 ,so again they journeyed round the pillar1 and again they met1 and loudly the man cried out1 #8,how joyful a thing it is to meet a lovely woman6' ,and thus10 says the chronicle1 8was ,speech invented1 and the ,art of ,love and the human race begun40 ,dim grey on a grey sea lay ,awaji2 before us stretched the broad sweep of the landless ocean2 the ,inland ,sea1 dreaming among its islands1 lay behind4 ,,the ,,land ,,of ,,the ,,gods 8,that which ,i saw seemed to me a smile of the ,universe40 8,paradiso10 canto xxvii4 ,i ,,across ,,the ,,lagoon ,we sat still on the deck1 with our backs propped against portions of the ship's cargo1 and watched4 ,it was necessary to sit still1 for a rise of only a few inches would have sent the awning over our heads into the blue waters of the lagoon2 and each newcomer1 as he stepped from the wharf on to this ,kensington ,garden craft1 doubled himself in two and stayed so4 ,first-class passengers lay flat1 for a square hole in the side of the boat opened into a three-feet-high saloon elegantly carpeted2 we had matting4 ,when the first half of the passenger was inside1 a big-headed boy removed his gheta and piled them up on the deck1 reshoeing him in the same way when he emerged4 ,the difficulty of extracting foreign boots in this manner would alone have deterred us from using our first-class tickets2 and then the deck passengers under the awning had at least six inches more room1 besides ventilation4 ,so we sat on the matting and watched4 ,anything out of a toy-shop so tiny as this absurd little steamer was never seen4 ,she might with generosity have been fifteen feet long2 yet she carried some twenty passengers besides cargo down the lagoon and up the river1 from ,matsu to ,shobara1 with safety and ,oriental speed2 and did it twice a day too4 ,the carpeted saloon was reasonably filled with half a dozen passengers2 the deck overflowed with the rest4 ,the brown-skinned1 bullet-headed1 ugly1 good-natured ,japanese peasant1 sitting on his heels with his dark blue kimono tucked up above his brown legs1 and his fan in his hand2 or his little wife1 wrinkled and meek1 her white cotton towel1 with its bamboo design in blue1 folded round her head and tucked up under her hair behind in something between a night-cap and a sun-bonnet2 quiet and sweet1 but never abject1 and always respected4 ,here and there a shopkeeper or a clerk1 or some one from the town in a grey kimono1 with a face pale yellow against the other's brown4 ,we all sat bare-footed on the matting to keep it clean1 with our gheta in our hands1 fanning ourselves with rice-paper fans decorated with storks flying across the moon1 or sprays of plum-blossom or pine-trees1 each man of us showing his well-turned leg and thigh1 with all the muscles brought into strong relief by the weight of the body on the toes4 ,all polite1 all amused1 all conversational4 ,after a great deal of snorting on the part of our very small steamer1 we casually left the wharf and shot into the lagoon4 ,matsu1 hidden by the sunlight1 disappeared2 and even the wide sweep of waters wavered indistinct beneath the hard glitter of the morning light4 ,it was not yet nine o'clock1 and already the distant blue shore was blurred with the shimmering heat1 and the near green one fitful with the scissor-grinding of the semmi4 ,the heat was dropping down on the world with the swiftness of a tropical night and the glitter of it hurt4 ,away over the surface of the waters a red-brown head floated1 lazy1 the nimbus of straw hat against the light glowing yellow as a halo4 ,slowly1 idly1 the head moved over the water1 suspended between blue and blue4 ,too hot to doubt or question or deny1 ,i accepted the head and shut my eyes1 only to find on opening them again two1 three1 a dozen heads strolling slowly over the lagoon4 8,honourably please to understand1 dredging for mussels10 said a voice at my elbow4 ,and the passengers repeated the information in a sort of ,greek chorus with many bows4 ,matsu's only representative of the vast world of the ,ijin ,san is one missionary2 but these peasants1 with the refinement of true breeding1 accepted our outlandish dress and faces1 our boots on their matting too1 without a stare of curiosity1 although when our attention was apparently absorbed elsewhere1 the whiteness of our skins1 the aristocratic bridge of our noses 7it is only the noblesse in ,japan1 and not all of them1 who possess an aquiline nose71 were commented on with interest and admiration4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the near green shore ran in and out1 and in and out1 wooded thick with the slim green fingers of the bamboo1 until it opened into a tiny green bay1 with a thin bamboo landing-stage running out into the silent water4 ,here we stopped with such an amount of 8ay-aying0 on the part of the captain--a short man in a grey kimono1 who sat in a hole in the deck the other side of the funnel reading ,chinese poetry--and the crew1 a tall youth in 8foreign0 trousers1 who greased wheels1 that we might have been an ,atlantic liner approaching an unknown shore4 ,there were no passengers for the invisible village behind the landing-stage but the captain1 who climbed over the side of the boat up on to the landing-stage1 and disappeared4 ,by-and-by from out of the green there came a charming little figure in a sea-blue kimono1 lined with lacquer-red1 followed by a maid bearing neatly matted parcels4 ,the crew wiped its hands and moved forward1 while the sea-blue kimono1 kneeling on the landing-stage1 handed down the parcels on to the boat for safe carriage to ,shobara4 ,they seemed to require quantities of explanation those parcels1 accompanied by irrepressible giggles1 principal giggles on the part of the mistress1 and secondary giggles on the part of the maid2 while the crew listened1 replied1 grew eloquent4 ,it was one of the most effective flirtations ,i ever saw1 but alas6 conducted in that ,izumo dialect so hard for the ,tokyo-taught foreigner to understand4 ,and it went on like the hum of the semmi1 while the water1 the world1 and the boat drowsed in the heat4 99 99 99 99 99 ,suddenly1 from out of the nowhere1 appeared our captain1 who swung himself down from the landing-stage on to the boat as imperturbably as a stone ,buddha4 ,the sea-blue kimono1 still on its knees at the edge of the water1 swayed in one last enchanting giggle that showed all the lacquer-red linings in a quiver of flame1 while the supplementary giggles of the stout little maid followed us regretfully out of the bay4 ,with more 8ay-aying0 we shot back into the hard glitter of the lagoon4 ,the captain retired to his hole and his ,chinese poetry1 the crew had completely disappeared1 but the big-headed boy1 emerging from some unknown region behind the captain1 carried out a hibachi and a kettle4 ,he set the kettle on the brass tripod over the hibachi and blew up the charcoal fire with a large fan2 and we all watched him with interest as he made ,japanese tea in a green china teapot1 rather larger than the kettle1 with a black handle and with dividing lines of black separating the green into leaf-like petals4 ,at this we all sat up1 thirstier with anticipation1 and the little china bowls filled from the green kettle-teapot vanished from the tray4 ,then the big-headed boy handed round manju cakes 7like boiled chestnuts in a white coat of sweet rice-paste71 and collected payment1 one sen 7a farthing74 ,we all promptly demanded more tea1 and the little bowls were filled and refilled until the green kettle-teapot ran dry2 and we all subsided again4 ,only the tink1 tink1 of the metal pipes1 knocking out the glowing wad of tobacco on to the deck in order to light a fresh pipeful from the burning remains of the old one1 broke the drowsy silence4 ,three little whiffs and the acorn bowl of a ,japanese pipe is empty1 so the tink1 tink1 of the metal on the deck was rhythmic as the vee-um of the semmi4 ,they were all smoking1 men and women1 and the scent of the bright brown tobacco1 fine-cut as hair1 lay under the awning4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the near green shore ran in and out1 and in and out1 until all the wide sheet of glittering light1 spread over the blue waters1 lay behind us2 in front a bright green bank of rushes hemmed in the light4 ,the lagoon was ended1 and still we went on1 seemingly with the intention of stranding ourselves among the bulrushes4 ,but the bulrushes stood back as we came on1 and ranging themselves on either hand1 left a water pathway down which we went1 until the bank of rushes following the lagoon lay far behind1 and we found ourselves in a narrow river that seemed half natural stream and half artificial canal4 ,our unnautical captain1 who1 ever since we had entered the rushes1 had been intoning directions to the invisible crew as though he were reading poetry aloud1 got up out of his hole4 ,the tink1 tink1 of the metal pipes on the wooden deck died gradually away as each smoker knocked out his last wad of tobacco and put away his pipe4 ,then with a sudden and terrific snort the absurd little steamer1 an end in either bank1 stood still4 ,the big-headed boy1 hanging over the side of the boat1 kicked violently with his heels1 while the unexpected apparition of the crew's head rose up at our feet4 ,the head took a look round and sank again1 and the engines rattled4 ,still with an end in either bank1 and with the big-headed boy clasping the gunwale in his arms1 we proceeded to turn slowly round1 and then1 assisted by several ropes and several haulers1 to back majestically into the main street of ,shobara4 ,our journey was ended4 ,the big-headed boy1 leaving the gunwale1 rushed to reshoe the first-class passengers as they wriggled from the saloon on to the roadway4 ,the bullet-headed peasants and their little brown wives bowing low bows to each other1 the captain and to the ,ijin ,san1 took up their bundles and trudged off1 while we1 like a ,royal arrival1 were received by the authorities of ,shobara1 in the person of a fierce little policeman in a new white suit1 and duly escorted the three-and-a-half paces from the ship's side to the tea-house door in a procession1 the people lining up the way4 ,and the last we saw of that absurd little steamer1 as we turned into the tea-house1 was a glimpse of the crew looking down the funnel1 while the big-headed boy1 standing amidships1 handed out the cargo to its owners on either bank4 ,,ii ,,to ,,kizuki ,the green earth lay burning in the sun1 wrapt round and round with heat4 ,between the tall blue lines of hills it stretched1 the flat green floor of a deep blue cavern1 whose roof-top was the sky4 ,and through the green the long white road ran out of sight4 ,the only living thing that moved was the running kurumaya1 all else lay sleeping in the bright night-time of heat1 a heavy drugged sleep that neither rested nor refreshed4 ,inert the green earth stretched between the blue hills1 weighed down with heat2 a palpable heat through which we moved as a fish moves through water2 a visible heat which was lying there heavy on the land1 floating round the blue hills1 quivering against the white sky1 humming in the still air1 rolling in great drops down the bronzed back of the kurumaya1 drowsing me to sleep as with the soft waving of a heated fan1 a heavy1 encompassing heat that stunned4 ,and always the white road ran on through the green earth1 and the long1 straight lines of hills on either side shut off the sky4 ,between the fields of rice1 here and there among the green1 a brown-thatched house like an open shed rose up1 its roof supported on the square pillars of the four corner posts1 its walls rolled out of sight4 ,and on the matted floor the women and children lay sleeping1 their necks supported on a narrow stool2 the men stretched on their backs1 or lying prone1 their heads between their arms4 ,not a living thing in house or field1 in land or road1 was moving save the running kurumaya4 ,heat had slain the world and life itself was senseless4 99 99 99 99 99 ,on either side the straight blue hills stretched out of sight1 the green earth lay like a narrow passage-way between2 and on and on we ran1 until the green floor contracted1 and the white road became a broad still street1 where brown houses shut out the hills4 ,a rapid spurt through the empty village1 for a kurumaya never stops except at the top of his speed1 and we arrive at the tea-house4 ,dazed1 weary1 and stiff with two hours of continuous running1 we struggle from under the shawls and wraps that keep out the sun1 and sink on to the matting2 while the crowd which has grown no man knoweth how1 from out of an empty village1 stands silently1 staring4 ,with equal suddenness a small policeman starts up in front4 ,he inquires our names1 ages1 residence and destination2 orders back the crowd with one wave of his arm1 commands that we be taken into an inner apartment1 remote from public gaze2 and1 in short1 declares we may repose on him4 ,we are taken into an inner apartment1 a room that is almost cool1 while the crowd drifts patiently round the house trying to look in4 ,one little wide-eyed nsan brings us tea1 and then house and world sink back into slumber again4 ,the nsan1 reluctant1 but at last dismissed1 lies down on the matting1 beyond the courtyard1 and falls asleep4 ,her neck rests on a narrow wooden pillow that has the curves of a tor2 she lies like a long-stalked flower on the ground1 rigid1 quite graceful4 ,every fold of her kimono1 every twist of her hair1 is in place4 ,she is fast asleep1 unconscious1 perfectly tidy1 with a neatness that has passed into its essence1 grace1 and is natural as the feathers to a bird4 ,we cannot sleep1 the mere transition from the greater heat outside to the cooler heat of this open matted space makes us wakeful4 ,it is cooler here actually1 in degree1 and imaginatively1 from the green palms of the baby garden4 ,the garden of a doll's house1 which any moderate-sized bath-towel would have roofed1 yet with a forest of dwarf palm-trees in one corner1 a winding pool in another1 the cool grey outlines of a stone lantern to hold the eyes1 and a sense of still greenness1 of limpid freshness1 which not rivers of water or forests of giant trees could more distinctly convey4 ,to look at that garden was to take a mental bath and drown out the sense of heat4 ,but the heat itself remained1 intense and stagnant1 a heavy presence in the house that permeated all things4 ,out in the courtyard one shaft of burning light shone down1 turning the cotton towel on its bamboo line to a white-hot banner1 the polished passage to a molten pool1 while the water in the big stone font was warm as condensed steam4 ,like the flaming sword of the ,archangel ,michael1 the shaft of burning light cut the passage-way in two1 and the sharp white-heat of it seemed to cut4 ,it was absolutely still1 only the heat moved awake in a house and a world asleep4 99 99 99 99 99 ,very slowly the little nsan sat up2 some one had called her4 ,a moment1 and she was on her feet1 neat as a growing flower4 8,the kurumaya awaits10 she said1 kneeling on the matting1 8when it honourably pleases the august ones to come40 ,then she touched her forehead to the floor and waited for what it honourably pleased the august ones to do4 ,they came1 down the polished passage1 under the flaming sword of light1 out into the open space before the tea-house1 where the little policeman waited to command them to be packed into their kuruma1 to deliver stringent orders for their safe conduct to the kurumaya1 to authoritatively bid them the politest of sayonara4 ,the crowd had disappeared1 harangued out of existence2 the village street was empty as a desert1 the houses dead2 and then the steep line of blue hills grew up on either side1 shutting in the sky1 and the long white road stretched away through the green earth4 ,palpable1 visible1 the heat lay over the land1 quivering against the white sky1 floating round the blue hills1 humming in the still air1 drowsing me into a somnambulant life that was neither sleep nor waking4 ,between the green earth and the white sky the telegraph wires cut a bronze line against the quivering blue2 and the rows of little birds1 all sitting with their tails to the road1 hung drowsily there1 rows on rows of them4 ,and still the long white road ran on and on4 ,beneath the short thick hair of the kurumaya the heat gathered in wet patches on the white scalp1 rolled in big drops over the black head1 trickled down the bronze neck1 and was wiped off with one rapid movement of the blue cotton towel1 as the running kurumaya sped swiftly on2 gathered again1 rolled again1 trickled again1 was wiped dry again2 gathered1 rolled1 trickled1 until the automatic movements1 repeated and repeated1 grew part of ,time itself4 ,they were ,time4 99 99 99 99 99 ,then ,i awoke4 ,it was as if some one had slid a thin lining of fresh air along the tops of the blue hills1 beneath the burning sky4 ,a thin1 thin sheet of fresh air1 but the green earth gave a great sigh1 the kurumaya a little shake1 and ,i awoke4 ,the peasants in their brown thatched houses1 open as a shed1 were stirring1 the naked red figures in their white cloths were moving down the road4 ,in the fields the long bamboo poles that shot up out of the green earth like masts were dipping up and down1 drawing water for the thirsty rice4 ,the little birds on the telegraph wires were chirping sleepily1 flying off in twos and threes1 and settling down again1 audibly fussing over the laziness of their friends and relations4 ,the bright night-time of heat was over and gone4 ,i sat up in my kuruma and looked4 ,we were running through green rice-fields1 under a blue sky4 ,and it was a hot summer's afternoon4 ,,iii ,,izumo',s ,,great ,,temple 8,so they made fast the temple pillars on the nethermost rock-bottom1 and they made high the cross-beams to the plain of high heaven20 and the god ,onamuji1 the 8,master of the ,great ,land10 ,king of ,izumo1 in accordance with his compact with high heaven1 entered into that temple and dwelt there4 ,so the province of ,izumo and the kingdom of ,western ,japan passed under the rule of the great ,sun-,goddess whose descendants endure to this day4 ,but the ,master of the ,great ,land1 the god ,onamuji1 is worshipped from end to end of the ,emperor's dominions1 and his temple and his priests are sacred as the mirror of the ,sun-,goddess in their eyes4 ,all through the year1 the pilgrims in thousands journey into ,izumo to remote ,kizuki1 whose name to their ears is still resonant with the beating 7tsuku7 of the pestles 7ki7 which made the foundations of that first great temple firm and everlasting1 while in the month of ,october the immortal gods themselves1 from every shrine throughout the land1 come to visit ,onamuji1 and that desolate month known in ,japan as kami-na-zuki 7month without gods7 is called in ,izumo alone kami-ari-zuki 7the month with gods74 ,at the foot of the everlasting hills the temple stands1 and the far-off ripple of the ,western ,sea1 half a memory1 half a dream1 wanders through its sunlit courts1 a sound to listening ears4 ,the long dark avenue of twisted trees1 so old that many are almost limbless1 the three giant tor1 hewn in solid granite1 lie behind us2 we have reached the white sunlight of the outer temple space1 and the scattered buildings of the shrine are in front4 ,our landlord1 in his ,sunday-best kimono of silver-grey1 leads the way4 ,he has walked1 since we left the inn1 exactly three paces behind us1 while three paces behind him came our kurumaya4 ,in ,kizuki it has not been considered consonant with our dignity to allow us to move anywhere without them4 ,our landlord1 with the profoundest bow1 moves on in front4 ,he has a letter to deliver on our behalf1 so that when we reach the long1 low building at the end of the first enclosure1 an authoritative young priest in long white robes is there to greet us4 ,he wears a wonderful head-dress of black lacquer1 the model of a meat-cover1 tied on under the chin1 with two red cords in the manner of a doll's bonnet2 but his chin is human1 not inflexible1 so ,i watch to see the meat-cover tumble4 ,it never does1 not even when with a low bow he invites us up the steep polished steps into the room above4 ,we take off our shoes and climb4 ,the room is long and low1 with a 8foreign0 table covered with a green baize cloth4 ,there are bright blue velvet chairs1 an inkstand1 pens2 just a second-hand committee-room greatly the worse for wear1 which impresses our landlord1 so that his strangled h's of admiration sound like paroxysms of coughing4 ,we sit on the velvet chairs and wait4 ,our landlord1 the letter and the priest have disappeared into an inner apartment4 ,and the sound of much discussion comes to our ears4 8,how far are we to be allowed to go80 ,and then the terms 8learned ,ijin ,san10 and 8august sage0 reach us4 ,at last they are all agreed4 ,the 8learned ,ijin ,san10 the 8honourable teacher10 the 8august sage0 shall be permitted to enter the very ,holy of ,holies2 but the 8honourable interior10 being a woman1 must not cross the sacred threshold4 ,then there is a long pause before the authoritative young priest comes out and explains the position to us4 ,we bow the profoundest thanks and follow him down the steps1 and the reason for the pause is evident4 ,he has changed his clothes1 and is now in the fullest and most resplendent of sacerdotal robes4 99 99 99 99 99 ,under the shadow of the gate of the ita-gaki1 the second enclosing fence1 stands the ,high ,priest himself1 whose fathers for two thousand years have led the temple rites4 ,he is the eighty-second descendant of the mythic ,susa-no-wo1 and is still termed by many ,iki-gami1 which is the 8,living ,god40 ,an old1 old man1 whose face is almost white1 a mystic sacred face1 quiet as the eternal smile of the ,eternal ,buddha4 ,he wears a lacquered head-dress1 the most imposing of meat-covers1 and his robes are of white and purple adorned with gold4 ,we pass within the ita-gaki1 and the landlord1 the kurumaya1 the crowd of other worshippers are left behind4 ,before us rises the low fence of the 8jewelled hedge10 which encloses the sacred shrine itself4 ,again before the gateway there is a pause4 ,the minor priests1 even our authoritative young friend1 do not enter here4 ,it is explained to us that the 8honourable interior0 must not pass within the temple4 ,she is a woman1 but it is permitted to her1 as the wife of the most 8honourable one10 to look into the shrine from a room above the gateway4 ,the ,high ,priest removes his sandals1 we our shoes1 and over the rounded1 water-washed1 grey pebbles1 hot as burning plough-shares1 we enter the holy court4 ,a long1 low wooden building is the temple1 primval in its form1 the broad ends of its roof-tree sticking up like pointed anchors through the roof4 ,six feet around it on every side the pebbles stop1 and the space is filled with the whitest1 smoothest sand4 ,all those who go up to the god leave the mark of their feet behind4 ,within the temple there is nothing2 bare space1 dim1 obscure2 but the ,high ,priest1 reverently kneeling on the matting1 creates the god4 ,and into that narrow empty space the shadow of the ,eternal ,presence comes4 ,slowly the splash of the breaking waves drifts into the stillness1 faint as the whisper of ,god in the heart of man1 a still1 small voice4 ,over the temple there is peace1 the peace of two thousand years1 unbroken1 sacred4 ,and the dreamy ripple grows a sound in the silence4 ,faint1 faint1 faint1 is it the song of the limitless sea1 the voice of the peace and the stillness1 or a broken murmur of the beyond that the listening pilgrim hears8 ,half a memory1 half a dream1 it dies at the gate of the shrine1 where the stir of the world grows loud2 yet the soul has heard1 has believed4 99 99 99 99 99 ,out in the sunlit court beyond the 8jewelled hedge0 the little group of priests still wait4 ,and as we come slowly over the hot round stones1 our shoes once more upon our feet1 they greet us with an added respect4 ,even the 8honourable interior10 whose sacredness is but indirect1 transmitted through a space of court and two open shji1 has become a personage4 ,the old1 old priest1 with the face of a ,chinese sage1 goes on in front4 ,we cross the second court obliquely over the stone-grey pebbles1 each rounded with the rubbing of running water1 and enter another building1 the treasure-house of the temple4 ,here in a shaded upper chamber1 where the white sunlight filters through the yellow matting1 a long low shelf runs round1 and on it lie the temple's treasures--relics of dead heroes and of living legend4 ,one by one the ,high ,priest points them out1 and in the thin frail voice of age tells their story3 ,a biwa1 a sword1 some pieces of tattered brocade1 the old1 old relics of ,old ,japan4 ,the tales are long1 as the old man tells them with the slow-moving utterance of one who has had eighty years in which to speak4 ,but there is a personal vibration in his voice that brings back the long two thousand years of service that he and his have given to the temple1 recalls the eighty-two ,high ,priests1 his fathers1 who join the living man before us to the god ,susa-no-wo1 from whom the ,great ,master1 ,onamuji himself1 descended4 ,all this time1 the authoritative young priest has been respectfully but quite obviously waiting to show us something4 ,at last he draws us across the room to where a life-sized plaster statue stands1 the ,sun-,goddess herself in the flowing robes of ,old ,japan1 a figure full of majesty and power1 with round her neck a string of those prehistoric jewels of which the ,kojiki is full1 comma-shaped polished jewels of jade and crystal1 threaded on a scarlet string4 ,and in the loose sleeves of the plaster figure and about the folds at the neck are touches of brightest red4 ,a modern plaster statue of a figure old to unbelief4 ,and the young man tells the story4 ,he is so eager1 so proud to relate what has indeed become the great central fact of the story1 that who or what the statue is1 or how or why it came there we never hear2 but--it had gained a prize at the ,chicago ,exhibition6 ,and all the rest of the clergy intone a little chorus of triumph and delight4 ,even the ,high ,priest himself seems pleased1 and a faint smile passes over his face as he bids us examine the ticket4 ,it is quite true4 ,from the out-stretched wrist of the ,sun-,goddess hangs a much-worn ticket1 stating in printed ,roman capitals that 8,this ,exhibit has won a ,prize at the ,world's ,fair of ,chicago40 ,and the figure stands there1 in the long low treasure-house of ,izumo's ,great ,temple1 while the white sunlight1 filtering through the yellow matting1 falls on the white-robed priests who serve a temple worshipped through two thousand years1 falls on the old ,high ,priest with the mystic sacred face1 whose fathers stretch back into the mists of ,time1 and falling1 trembles on the faded ticket on the arm of the ,sun-,goddess3 ,,world',s ,,fair1 ,,chicago4 ,this is to certify---- 8,if the august sage will honourably please to descend40 ,and we descended4 ,in the hot still court the ,high ,priest takes his leave1 with long polite phrases of strictest ceremony4 ,the authoritative young priest who escorts us back through the ita-gaki into the outer court is equally ceremonious1 and our polite ,japanese is heavily taxed to keep up with him4 ,at the outer court he bids us sayonara1 and our landlord and our kurumaya1 who have been respectfully waiting1 form into procession again4 ,we have become great personages in their eyes1 very great personages indeed2 and the pilgrims1 kneeling before the shrine in the outer court1 look at us with reverence4 ,we have entered the ,holy of ,holies1 we have visited the god ,onamuji in his shrine4 ,it is with the lowest of bows that our landlord leads us out of the side of the temple court1 westward1 to where the tall dark trees of the mountain have grown down into the plain4 ,here1 set in the silence of the cryptomerias at the foot of the everlasting hills1 is the home of the ,high ,priest4 ,so still1 so ordered1 so spotless1 the house and garden lie like a snowdrop in a forest4 ,and the sound of the sea drifts in as we stand4 99 99 99 99 99 ,then for the last time we cross the courtyard where the pilgrims are praying in the sunshine1 and the temple dancing girls1 dim figures in the distance1 glide round and round in the long slow circles of the sacred kagura4 ,court and temple are burning in the sunlight4 ,beyond the 8hedge0 and the 8jewelled hedge0 the great beam-ends of the roof-tree rise out through the temple's thatch4 ,within the shrine hangs the mirror of the great ,sun-,goddess4 ,for the heart of man1 says the ,shint faith1 is good and pure4 ,and even as this mirror1 when undimmed1 reflects the sun1 so in the tranquil soul ,god's self is imaged4 ,over temple and courtyard there is peace2 the peace of long centuries dead2 the peace of enduring belief4 ,down from the mists of the past the teaching comes3 8,know thyself2 in the stillness of peace1 know but thyself1 and thou shalt see ,god40 ,,iv ,,kizuki',s ,,bay ,the ,sea of ,japan1 as it wandered down the western coast1 took a sudden and unexpected bite out of the land of ,izumo2 and that bite is the bay of ,kizuki4 ,it is the tiniest of bays1 with but half a mile of sandy shore between the two steep lines of hills that run straight out to sea3 green hills that stretch so far1 the green has time to grow a misty blue before they curve toward the water in a deep blurred line4 ,landwards a length of sandy dune shuts out the village street2 and the little bay1 set between the hills1 and cut off from the sea1 lies like an ebbing lake4 ,on the sandy shore it is still and cool2 and from the dozens of ,japanese families comes only the high pitched laughter of the playing children4 ,kizuki is the ,margate of the ,west1 and the pilgrims who journey to its shrine stay to breathe its sea air1 and combine a religious pilgrimage with a summer holiday in a manner so usual in ,japan4 ,the big hotel under the great north wall of green1 with its ground floor1 and1 wonder of wonders1 two1 yes--two storeys1 is full4 ,so full that the landlord was forced to tuck away his distinguished guests in a back room of the old inn up the village street4 ,the square two-storied house1 with all its shji pushed back and the contents and occupants of every room exposed to public view1 looks for all the world like a big doll's house with the door gone4 ,and its inhabitants eat1 drink1 play1 laugh1 sing with the natural unconcern which we could only reach secure behind brick walls1 curtained windows1 and venetian blinds4 ,the unconcern is so simple1 so unaffected1 that the ,yokohama foreigner1 feeling dimly that his own behaviour could never be so natural under such conditions1 suspects 8play acting10 and will sometimes speak of a 8nation of mountebanks0 with the scorn of a man among monkeys4 ,the hotel is built just where the blue beyond of the ,western ,sea1 glowing between the headlands1 draws eye and mind away1 adding the unbroken curve of ,infinity to the quiet lake's rounded life4 ,the sun has set2 perhaps behind that great green wall he still drops swiftly to the horizon1 but in ,kizuki there is twilight1 a luminous grey twilight that has no shadows1 which1 spreading1 blots all colour from the world4 ,between wall and wall of hill the sky stretches clear and green4 ,the bay is flooded with a golden light4 ,and there1 a black line from gold to green1 its base in the yellow water1 its crest on the sunset sky1 stands ,kizuki's second wonder1 the third beauty of ,izumo--a tall pointed rock4 ,for the ,japanese1 who seek much more for line than colour in their beauty1 glory in its curves2 and the little bay of ,kizuki owes its visitors not to the purity of its air1 its fishing1 boating1 bathing1 or casino1 but to the beauty of its solitary rock and the nearness of its sacred temple4 ,from shore to sky the luminous grey twilight climbs4 ,the flood of golden light is dead4 ,the great green walls that make the bay are dark4 ,only in the sky the faintest stain of colour lingers2 and there the rock's lone crest blots a black line upon the dying green4 ,my kurumaya1 in his long parson's coat and waistcoat1 blanched the purest white1 asks if ,i have ever seen a bay more beautiful4 ,and all the dozens of ,japanese families stand looking out to sea1 for the cult of the stone is in their hearts4 ,slowly the luminous twilight draws the world in ,chinese ink4 ,it climbs the sky1 and the colour dies2 only the sombre lines of rock are left4 ,the little bay is grown a mystic kakemono4 ,v ,,in ,,matsu ,we had journeyed in trains and in steamers1 in big boats and in little boats1 in kuruma and sampan1 and had reached the ,land of the ,gods--and the inn at ,matsu4 ,not the least of our difficulties had been to find that inn1 for our landlord at ,kyoto1 on hearing we were bound for ,matsu1 had offered to make all arrangements for us through a 8friend in the ,prefecture40 ,and the arrangements had been made1 but when we asked for explanations1 the address of the friend or the name of our inn1 he only smiled1 a polite unexplanatory smile1 spread out his hands with ceremony1 and bowed4 ,all was 8yorosh40 ,with this much information we had started1 with this much and no more we had arrived4 ,the baby steamer ran alongside the wharf at ,matsu1 her first-class passengers wriggled out of her cabin1 her deck passengers crawled from under the awning2 and we sat still1 our luggage piled around us1 wondering if1 like the ,peri at the ,gates of ,paradise1 the ,land of the ,gods would admit us or not4 ,just then1 when the pause had become really embarrassing1 a white-uniformed policeman boarded the steamer2 with much ceremony he announced--under the circumstances he could hardly have inquired--that we were the ,ijin ,san from ,kyoto4 ,we assented1 and he promptly led us outside1 where a tall1 loose-jointed ,japanese1 with a ,red ,indian face hatcheted out of iron wood and wearing 8foreign0 clothes1 stood waiting4 ,the white-uniformed policeman politely performed the ceremony of introduction1 and stood aside4 ,this was the friend from the ,prefecture2 and once we had thoroughly and properly and ceremoniously replied to this fact1 which took time1 our friend from the ,prefecture1 who had the smile and the teeth1 and the difficulty in concealing them1 of the famous ,mr4 ,carker 7only he was amiable71 introduced our landlord1 a little1 bright1 black squirrel of a man grasping an immense umbrella4 ,more ceremony of course1 while the crowd gathered round and the policeman patrolled the group4 ,we were personages4 ,one gesture from the amiable ,carker of ,matsu ,prefecture and five kurumaya burst through the crowd1 while twice as many assistants rushed off to bring out our luggage under the eagle eye of the policeman2 and with his personal assurances as to our safety and comfort in ,matsu1 we and our luggage were packed into three kuruma1 the amiable ,carker and the black squirrel of a landlord climbed into two more1 and the procession started4 ,the policeman saluted2 the crowd1 at the most respectful distance1 silently stared2 ,matsu received her visitors as the most distinguished of strangers4 ,the kurumaya1 uplifted with pride1 tore along at the top of their speed in the exact centre of the road1 and the traffic scattered before us4 ,we did not run1 we flew1 over the stone bridge built just where the canal ends and the lagoon begins1 up the long1 long street parallel to the lagoon1 then a dive to the left over a canal bridge1 a dash through a green turning1 another dive1 another bridge over another canal1 and with the most imposing clatter we tore into a gravel court in front of the inn1 and pulled up short in the recess of the entrance4 ,in an instant the shji slipped aside and three women in dark blue kimono were bowing1 knees and forehead1 on the polished wood4 ,we had reached the inn at ,matsu4 ,the three figures got up1 as we left our shoes on the long thick block of rough-hewn granite which forms the front door-step between the gravel and the house1 and led us in a long procession to an open matted space in the garden4 ,this was our room4 ,it had but half a wall1 where the tokonoma stood2 the other half was open shji1 leading to the house1 and two square pillars at the corners supported the roof4 ,here we all subsided upon the kneeling-cushions in the strictest order of precedence1 based on nearness to the tokonoma4 ,our black squirrel of a landlord and the amiable ,carker of the ,prefecture1 who had also arrived1 sat on their heels with great ceremony1 though the 8foreign0 clothes of our friend from the ,prefecture got sadly in his way1 and then the interchange of polite phrases began4 ,it was exhaustive1 for they were1 oh6 so ceremonious1 and although two little girls with goggle eyes fanned us vigorously1 and the blue waters of the lagoon filled what should have been wall in front of us1 we grew hotter and hotter4 ,then the plain daughter of our comely landlady brought in an immense white meat-dish of railway-buffet thickness1 and set it down with conscious pride before her mother4 ,it contained piles of chipped ice1 which the comely landlady shovelled into miniature tumblers1 the size of dolls' tooth-glasses1 with an imposing iron ladle4 ,she sifted over it white sugar from a pie-dish1 and the plain daughter presented it to the company4 ,the drink of the ,gods themselves was never more divine6 ,though like ,sam ,weller's orthography1 which 8varied according to the taste and fancy of the speller10 you can eat this drink or you can drink it4 ,either way is inelegant1 but both are delicious4 ,it was only by relays of this amphibious refreshment1 which went on as long as there was anything besides a large pool of water in the meat-dish1 that the polite phrases flowed1 on our part at least4 ,at last etiquette1 even ,japanese etiquette1 was satisfied1 and our amiable friend from the ,prefecture bowed himself away4 ,the plain daughter removed the meat-dish1 not resisting to tell us it was 8foreign0 as she did so1 and retired4 ,and we lay out to cool upon the matting4 ,the lagoon1 the garden and a green courtyard filled the three sides of the room where walls might have been4 ,even the shji here had been removed1 for there were no houses visible2 a high green hedge of thick bamboo bounded court and garden1 beyond were the pale blue hills4 ,it was not a room1 it was a nest1 we lived as freely in the open air as the birds or the flowers2 a brown roof hung like a sheltering leaf above our heads1 a cool clean matting covered the ground beneath our feet1 but the rustle of leaves and of rice-fields1 the restless hum of insect life1 the rippling rhythm of the wide lagoon1 the whole stir of a growing world was ours4 ,we did not peep at it through a window1 we lay in it1 we were it2 and it rippled and hummed and grew part of us1 for ,pan is not dead1 in the ,land of the ,gods he is living still4 99 99 99 99 99 ,then the comely landlady called us to our bath2 8the honourable hot water was ready10 and the plain daughter assisted us out of our clothes into our kimono with an attention which1 to our sophisticated code1 was embarrassing1 and led us down a passage whose wooden wall opened into the bathroom4 ,here our landlady received us4 ,she was just sliding down the wooden plank1 which shut off the pipe filled with glowing charcoal from the rest of the bath-tub1 and looking up she said the bath was 8yorosh40 ,the water was positively bubbling1 at that delicious temperature of #aaj degrees which the ,japanese love2 but we were not yet used to literal boiling1 so we demanded cold water4 ,and the two little girls with goggle eyes ran away to fetch it in high wooden pails with stiff wooden handles4 ,they ran out by the wooden shji on the opposite side1 which opened straight on to the gravel courtyard of the entrance1 and their dark-blue kimono were tucked up into their obi1 showing the bright red kimono underneath4 ,and they were laughing4 ,when we demanded still more cold water they laughed again4 ,the ,ijin ,san had strange ideas of baths evidently4 ,at last1 in deference to their feelings1 we desisted4 ,the water was no longer bubbling1 so we pronounced it 8yorosh10 and they all retired4 ,the bathroom had a grey stone floor and walls of wooden shji2 at one end stood the high barrel-bath1 and wooden buckets1 pails and dippers lay all around4 ,a three-foot-high platform ran all down one side and adjoined the passage-way by which we had entered2 from it one stepped into the bath1 on it one washed and dried oneself4 ,a bath in ,japan1 which is used by all the family or hotel in succession1 is not intended for washing--that is done outside4 ,the two shji walls1 just sliding panels of wood1 opened1 one on to the passage-way1 the other into the front court1 and had no fastenings4 ,the ,japanese have attained to that sense of modesty which we still feel immodest4 ,they say to bathe is necessary2 you cannot take a bath with your clothes on2 a necessary action is never immodest1 neither has it any prurient attractions for healthy minds4 ,but a ,japanese cannot see the low-necked dresses of western women or the pictures of ,modern ,france without a blush4 ,to him a bathing woman is neither modest nor immodest1 but simply indifferent2 while exposure1 merely to attract1 is indecency itself4 ,obscenity exists in grosser minds as in every country in the world2 but the people of ,japan have a moral simplicity of thought and action that is at one with the conclusions of abstract ethical philosophy4 ,like lobsters going to be cooked1 we bathed1 and got out swiftly but not silently4 ,a yard of cotton towel1 where a bank of purple iris grew out of a pale blue stream1 was all the towel we had4 ,it would have adequately dried our finger-nails1 but the design was comforting if the towel was not4 ,at last1 in grey crpe kimono and straw sandals1 clothes as naturally a growth of the climate and the country as its trees or people1 we went back to our wall-less room and sat in peace4 ,the heat of the day was passing1 and the colours of the sky and trees deepened before they died4 ,for light in this land of sunshine can hide as well as darkness2 it covers the land as a pall1 all white and glittering1 which blinds as surely as the night4 ,but in that half-hour which comes before the swift descending twilight of the ,east1 all the colours deepen and intensify2 they take a strange opaque lustre which makes the thinnest leaf look solid4 ,mere colour seems thick1 almost as though distinct from what it colours and the colours deepen1 deepen1 till1 emerging from a glittering pall of white1 they sink beneath the grey-black pall of night4 ,it is the intensest hour of all the day4 ,the world is not working as at the dawn1 nor sleeping as in the heat1 but strong with the beating pulse of ,life that fills even the stillness4 ,so we sat and watched the deepening glowing earth glow and deepen1 and heard the throb of life grow ever louder1 till from the streets came up the sound of children's laughter1 and from the town the stir of men4 ,rich in richest colours lay the world1 with greens and blues of polished jewellery4 ,and then the hurrying twilight settled like the swooping pinions of a bird4 ,the colours lost themselves in grey1 the forms they coloured in a broad1 still sweep of darkness4 ,on the white bridge1 set between canal and lake1 the lanterns were already glowing1 and the indistinct brown lines of roof melted from the light into the darkness4 ,for a little while the curved earth-bridge of our miniature garden1 the pebbled pathway that in a fragment of a circle led across the winding pond1 traced a clear black line against the open sky4 ,then the children's laughter in the street grew silent1 the stir of men and women stilled4 ,slowly1 among their shadows1 the houses each hung out a light and disappeared4 ,the purple darkness grew with each moment deeper and more black4 ,then in a flash the shadows and the lights themselves went out1 for our inn had lit her lamps4 99 99 99 99 99 ,then they brought us dinner on black lacquered trays3 pink soup and many kinds of fish1 and rice with pickled cucumbers1 white and brown and purple4 ,and we did eat4 ,and all the time our landlady and her plain daughter1 kneeling on the matting1 filled up our rice-bowls from the wooden rice-box1 or our tea-bowls from the china teapot1 and the bronze kettle which filled that teapot itself needed filling many times1 for we were thirsty4 ,and the landlady and her daughter sat placidly on their heels1 watching our many social crimes1 for there is an etiquette of chopsticks1 as strict or stricter than ours of knives and forks1 and in equivalent terms we probably were eating with our knives1 putting our dirty spoons upon the tablecloth and exhibiting the general manners of the stable4 ,as a sign that you have finished in ,japan you eat your last bowl of rice flavoured with a bowlful of tea4 ,hardly had we reached this stage when the bright black squirrel of a landlord arrived to announce a visitor1 and 8,might he come in80 ,considerably surprised we said 8,yes10 and who should enter but our amiable ,japanese ,carker1 this time in his own clothes4 ,from an insignificant and somewhat common individual he had1 by the mere change from a misfitting yellow suit into a grey silk kimono with striped silk hakama1 changed from an underbred clerk into a courtly gentlemen4 ,his manners1 always the same1 were now at ease with himself1 and no longer incongruous or even somewhat ridiculous1 they became the perfection of grace and breeding4 ,it is a change that one may often see in ,japan4 99 99 99 99 99 ,again we all sat on our heels on the kneeling-cushions in the strictest order of precedence1 and exchanged the politest phrases of ceremony in the courtliest of ,japanese4 ,we heard all about the great ,temple of ,kizuki1 the pride of ,izumo1 and we told of our journeys in the ,far ,east1 to ,korea and ,siberia2 and the landlord's son1 who had come in behind the visitor1 8half expected he might go there some day with the army10 a wish which may well since have been fulfilled4 ,in true ,japanese fashion our guest had brought us presents1 photographs of ,matsu and of ,izumo's ,great temple4 ,we could only present him in exchange with our cards1 a map of the world with the ,british possessions marked very red1 and an old copy of a railway novel4 ,the gifts pleased him1 and the whole family examined the map with great interest4 ,they wanted to hear all about ,england1 and the fact that cows and sheep 7which they have never seen7 walked over our fields1 and that it was sometimes light at nine in the evening struck on their imagination4 ,they asked many questions about the sheep1 and 8what the light looked like80 which was difficult of explanation4 ,in spite of more amphibious drinks from the white meat-dish1 which seemed served here 7probably as a concession to our foreign tastes7 instead of the inevitable tea to visitors1 the struggle after faultless politesse1 the intricacies of a ceremonious ,japanese made us grow all limp with heat again4 ,and when we had bowed our last bow1 uttered our last 8,mata o-me ni kakarimash0 78,another time may my eyes honourably behold you071 we were reduced to a really pitiable state of exhaustion4 ,our comely landlady1 who had a large brain and a seeing eye1 did not wait to question4 ,she cleared the room1 sent the two giggling girls with the goggle eyes to hang the green mosquito net1 like an imposing martial tent1 from the four corners of the room1 while the plain daughter brought futon like thin eiderdown quilts to sleep upon1 undressed us carefully and retired1 bidding us 8honourably resting deign0 as she did so4 ,as the lamp went out the ample folds of the square tent stood out like a royal pavilion4 ,we crept beneath and lay down upon the matted sheets which covered the futon4 ,in deference to our foreign bones we had several futon underneath us1 and one rolled up beneath our heads2 but for all that the hardness of the matted floor1 stuffed though it was1 rose up and hit us before the night was out4 99 99 99 99 99 ,we slept beneath our transparent tent1 in our wall-less room1 as the flowers sleep1 part of the living night4 ,all the little sounds of leaf and lake stirred round us undisturbed2 the rice-ears rustled in the silent night2 the great trees stretched their branches as they slept4 ,dreaming1 the waters of the salt lagoon moved towards the sea1 and all the wealth of insect life1 turning in its sleep1 called faintly4 ,the still small voice of the sky whispered softly in the breezes1 and the great green ,earth reached up to listen through her dreams4 ,bound in the chains of man1 it is at night-time that she stirs so restless1 when all the humming1 conscious life is laid to sleep1 when men and insects slumber4 ,then the green ,earth wakes2 but she has endured so long that even in her waking she is half asleep4 ,bound down with streets and houses1 she never wakes at all4 ,and so all night we listened to the voices of the world4 ,at the dawning1 when all ,nature stands hushed before the coming of the sun1 we slept4 ,but the dawning in this southern land is short and swift4 ,with no clouds to dim his strength1 the sun soon sat flaming on his wide blue throne2 and all the insects of the tropics1 warmed into life1 rose up to buzz and hum4 ,and we awoke4 99 99 99 99 99 ,in the ,land of the ,gods there are no clocks1 and although one in the main street of ,matsu proclaimed its 8foreign0 time1 the inhabitants beneath go their own way1 and the baby steamers arrive and depart in open disregard of the hours upon the dial4 ,so some time between the dawning and the noon we woke4 ,the house was getting up4 ,all the little sounds of rising men and women1 of a day's beginning1 were about us1 so we got up too4 ,crawling from under our vast green tent1 we went down the polished passage-way to the inner courtyard1 where in a cool green cloister all the rooms of the inn looked out4 ,a long stone font filled with water1 a hanging wooden dipper1 a row of shallow brass pans on a wooden shelf stood waiting4 ,here the whole inn washes4 ,with water from the font1 cool and fresh from its night's sleep in the grey stone basin1 you fill the bamboo dipper and pour out into the shallow pans2 and then1 standing in the passage-way1 with all the rooms around you1 you wash4 ,and unless a nsan1 attracted by the whiteness of your skin1 should stop a moment to look and wonder1 no one is interested4 ,the usual lengths of cotton towelling hung beside the dipper1 like banners on their poles2 and a crevice of sunshine piercing into the green courtyard quivered on the round brass pans4 ,tent and futon had vanished when we returned1 and the two little goggle-eyed girls1 still with their blue kimono tucked up to show the red ones underneath1 were sweeping the matting with bamboo brooms4 ,we dressed in corners unattended1 and sat down to wait4 ,from the sounds of passing feet1 and the directing words of our comely landlady1 it seemed that great things were preparing for us--quite what remained a mystery4 ,at last the plain daughter1 bubbling with the pleasure of our surprise1 came to call us4 8,as for the morning meal10 she said1 8all is prepared10 and even the ceremony of her bows suffered from her eagerness4 ,we went through the half-wall of shji panels1 across a room1 into another1 where the family1 all assembled1 almost 7had it not been entirely un-,japanese7 clapped its hands in pride4 ,there on the matting1 and each leg protected by a supporting slab of wood1 stood a foreign table2 four foreign chairs1 their legs too nailed into long slats of wood1 stood round4 ,across a corner of the table lay a thin strip of cotton cloth1 and on this1 in all the majesty of its solid ugliness1 reposed the white meat-dish of our god-like drink4 ,this morning it was full of something smoking1 dimly resembling ,irish stew4 ,the comely landlady beamed as we approached4 8,sea-food forthcomes10 she said proudly4 ,and to our 8foreign0 breakfast we sat slowly down4 ,how bad it was6 ,but the family1 even to the old1 old grandmother1 were so delighted1 so proud of their unexpected triumph1 that we ate that abominable stew till not a fragment of its tough meat or a spoonful of its gluey gravy remained4 ,many times since have ,i wondered how that ,napoleonic landlady organised the feast8 ,how did she get the meat8 ,who cooked it8 and where did they learn8 ,did she invent the recipe out of her own head8 ,perhaps she raided the garrison8 ,she was capable of it4 ,there was bread too4 ,matsu was quite in the front of the fashion2 not like poor ,kizuki1 which was sadly out of date2 they hadn't even bru 7beer7 there4 ,all this she told us as she helped us1 always with the iron ladle1 to that terrific stew4 ,with the foreign food too1 we had 8foreign0 china1 horrible railway-restaurant plates and cups1 clumsy and thick1 sprawled all over with a large design in bilious blue2 knives and forks that never matched1 and1 of course1 the inevitable cruet4 ,this hideous article is always the first vestige of 8foreign0 fashion in a ,japanese hotel1 where it accompanies every meal4 ,once it may have been of ,german silver2 it is all drab now4 ,long centuries of use have left it bent and dinted4 ,its bottles leak1 their stoppers never fit1 and whatever they once held1 all now drip oil and taste soy4 ,we thought of our dainty lacquered trays1 our delicate white china with drawings in faint blue1 the refinement and the art of that meal1 and we sighed4 ,the fish they could not spoil1 and their tea is always good1 so we breakfasted4 ,and the plain daughter1 whose ambitions 7or her mother's7 soared to ,tokyo heights of fashion1 asked if everything was really 8yorosh0 upon the table1 and1 if not1 8would we show her how80 ,the knives and forks had puzzled her woefully2 how ought they to be laid8 ,so we laid the table1 and we set the forks1 and we placed the bread1 and we handed plates and glasses1 and the ancient grandmother shook with astonishment4 ,was ever like seen under the sun8 ,and even the capable landlady exclaimed4 ,so the conscientious plain daughter worked through her knives and forks1 her bread on this side and her glasses on that1 with the zeal of an earnest student2 and afterwards we caught her displaying her great accomplishment to a circle of admiring friends4 99 99 99 99 99 ,we were to see the sights of ,matsu4 ,our friend from the ,prefecture and the black squirrel of a landlord had talked it over exhaustively the night before4 ,we were catered for like ,royal visitors4 ,we did not need to plan1 or ask1 or seek4 8,honourably trouble not4 ,it happens40 ,and it did4 ,that morning the landlord1 in a long polite speech1 made us over to his son1 a quiet clever lad who might have been the twin of his plain sister2 and we set off4 ,we wished to stop for many things1 temples and toy shops1 the peeps of life on street and wharf1 but our guide1 though never contradicting1 was so preoccupied1 so intent on something that we gave in and meekly followed down the long streets over the many canals1 whose bridges showed an arch like the young crescent of the moon1 along the hot white road1 until we reached an ugly wooden building in the style called 8foreign10 all decorated with flags and policemen4 ,here we entered4 ,the policemen drew up in line as we passed1 and the scurrying feet of a dozen officials all clothed in long frock-coats came down the vestibule4 ,it was an ,exhibition of the ,arts1 ,industries1 and ,manufactures of the ,province of ,izumo1 and quite inadvertently we had arrived to open the proceedings4 ,the distinguished strangers from ,england1 received by the phalanx of frock-coats1 were conducted majestically through the whole building4 ,we were not allowed to miss a single room4 ,if1 after peeping into one1 and finding it contained nothing but sacks of rice1 or samples of raw silk1 we retreated1 instantly a frock-coat or a policeman appeared to lead us round4 ,we did not miss the least little exhibit of the least little room4 ,we saw them all3 bags of rice1 cocoons of silk1 hollow candles with growing designs in faint pale colours1 ,izumo crystals famed throughout ,japan1 lengths of piece-silk1 twists of sewing-silk1 embroideries1 china1 the famous yellow china of ,matsu1 all the roots and grains and wood of the province1 fishing nets and field tools1 and a whole large section of the beautiful ,izumo matting4 ,in our admiration we wished to buy1 and instantly all the frock-coats ran after one another1 each official going to consult his chief4 ,they arrived in groups and talked2 they went away and came back again4 ,we had unknowingly placed the whole officialdom of ,matsu on the horns of a dilemma4 ,we were the distinguished visitors from ,england2 we wished to buy ,matsu's most especial production2 the honour was great--but the regulations said no exhibit might be taken away before the close of the exhibition2 and the ,japanese respect the law as they respect the ,emperor4 ,so we waited4 ,at last a most wonderful frock-coat appeared resplendent with decorations2 solemnly he made a speech explaining the difficulty1 excusing the delay1 expressing great honour at our request1 and at a sign his attendant handed over the matting to our attendant1 and with many bows we parted4 99 99 99 99 99 ,that afternoon1 as we lay upon our matting in our wall-less room1 fanned by the plain daughter1 our landlady brought in the local newspaper1 and sitting down on her heels she read to us a long account of the arrival in ,matsu of the 8distinguished strangers from ,england10 and a kind of 8,stop ,press telegram0 announcing their gracious purchase of matting at the exhibition that morning1 besides an editorial advertisement of a description of their visit to the exhibition for the next issue4 ,our rooms at the inn were described at length1 our appearance 8with faces white as milk0--the foreign simile showing great learning on the part of the reporter--our ages politely overstated1 for the young here1 women as well as men1 desire to be old so that to be thought older than one's age is the greatest of compliments2 the paper therefore called us most politely 8upwards of forty10 causing our dear landlady to beam with delight1 and the plain daughter to utter a long series of those curious strangled 8h's0 by which the ,japanese express intense admiration1 as she fanned us more vigorously4 ,then1 propos of our 8milk-white faces10 the landlady1 with much hesitation1 asked a favour 8so great that to speak unable am40 ,might she have our soap8 ,japanese soap they had1 but somehow1 possibly1 that 8foreign0 soap of ours might account for some of our strange whiteness4 ,so she and the plain daughter retired with the soap2 and for the rest of the afternoon they scrubbed diligently in the bathroom4 99 99 99 99 99 ,and we sat quiet upon our matting in the heat1 while the green hills and the rice-fields1 the pebbled pathway of our garden bridge1 and all the wide still spaces of the lake hung as frescoes round our room4 ,the hot blue sky burned fiercely1 the blue of a heated brick-kiln1 and our living frescoes hung motionless as the work of man4 ,there was neither change nor shadow4 ,hills and lake and rice-fields lay still against the sky--flat as it were upon a flattened background1 and in that light which did not shine but suffused itself through all things1 there were no shadows1 a deepened blueness here and there1 but neither shadow nor perspective4 ,the sense of distance1 as the sense of shade1 was quite annihilated4 ,those old ,japanese artists saw truly1 despite our western dictums1 light does not lie here as we see it1 still less as it lies in the actual tropics2 it has effects of light and distance which are all its own1 and the ,japanese1 seeing them1 reproduced them1 not because there are no others1 but because these are so truly ,japanese4 ,and we1 knowing neither the country nor the climate1 but strong in our arrogance of 8laws10 called it 8false1 a childlike art ignorant of science40 ,in the ,land of the ,gods we sat and learnt wisdom1 and ,japan and its people1 its life and its pictures took a new meaning in our eyes1 and the false became true4 99 99 99 99 99 ,when our landlady and her daughter came back from the bathroom they brought a small thin oblong of soap1 and their hands were all wrinkled with washing4 8,mada kur gozaimas kara omachi nassatta h ga y gozaimas10 they said in a melancholy1 half-laughing voice4 8,still brown because1 leaving off had best be done10 and they held out their four hands for inspection4 ,the ,ijin ,san's whiteness was not in the soap4 ,but when we went we left as a present a whole new cake of 8foreign0 soap2 and their supplementary scrubbings must have been many4 99 99 99 99 99 ,that evening we were entertained by a small boy with the snubbiest of noses1 who peeped slyly at us from out of the darkness of the garden4 ,when he was induced to come in he brought all his lesson books1 which he turned over for our amusement1 and between each page he chuckled1 but he never told us why4 ,whether it was the recollections of his lost lessons or a subtle sense of absurdity that we could not read the ,chinese hieroglyphics of his primers we never knew1 but his chuckles were deep with joy4 ,then in the pauses he would count solemnly up to ten1 all the ,english he knew1 and chuckle again4 ,two wide-eyed little maidens were brought in next morning to see the ,ijin ,san4 ,in a very awestruck whisper they inquired 8if we were real40 ,these little babies were very solemn and very good1 but not one scrap shy or frightened4 ,in all their little lives they had never met a grown-up being who was harsh to them4 ,though obedience is the first requisite of ,japanese children young or old1 they give it as the plants their flowers1 not from a sense of hard-learned duty1 but as a natural product of an eternal law4 ,the babies made the funniest little bows as they touched their little foreheads to the ground4 ,and then they sat and looked at us with wide1 wide-opened eyes4 ,to them we belonged to the world of the mythical ,kirin1 and the terrible ,kitsun who takes bad babies away and feeds them on frogs and snails2 we belonged to the realm of the sea-goddess who married ,urashima1 to the land of the fairies4 ,so they asked if we were real4 ,they could not be induced to talk to us1 though they were wonderfully polite1 and quite knocked their little foreheads on the floor when they said 8,good-bye40 ,did we figure as goblins or as fairies in their dreams1 ,i wonder8 99 99 99 99 99 ,that afternoon a stall-owner from the exhibition came to show us ,izumo crystals4 ,for two hours he knelt upon the matting opening the beautifully made boxes of white unpainted wood4 ,and we looked at large divining-crystals without fleck or flaw1 at the pale clouded crystals shading from mist-white to palest crimson1 at the agates and amethysts2 and all the time our comely landlady and her plain daughter sat on their heels and admired with taste and great discrimination4 ,there was not in all this shopful of precious stones anything to wear4 ,a few crystal hairpins1 a few 8foreign0 studs1 but no jewellery as we understand it4 ,the ,japanese never wear jewellery2 neither rings1 nor bracelets1 nor chains1 nor pins1 nor brooches1 nor tiaras--nothing4 ,one wonders how much crime and heart-burning has the nation missed4 ,precious stones they have1 but they buy and keep them for their shape or for their colour1 as a picture or a bronze1 not to adorn themselves4 ,all the rest of the world1 in all times1 barbarous and civilised1 have fought and stolen1 slain and ruined themselves just to heap upon their fingers or their heads strings of gleaming stones4 ,in this island-empire alone men and women have looked at precious stones1 have handled and admired1 but never worn them4 ,one wonders was it purely the artistic instinct of the race which kept them from it1 or the stern morality of the samurai1 preaching denial and self-control4 ,and again one wonders if too much jewellery be barbaric1 where in the scale of civilisation does a nation come that wears none at all8 ,surely art can produce worthier things than jewellery1 and are not morals better without it8 99 99 99 99 99 ,our inn was full of guests1 quite full1 and all the rooms have paper panels4 ,there are no keys1 no locks1 no bolts1 the whole inn1 were it so minded1 could go in and out of every room2 and yet we all sleep in peace and quite secure4 ,it is true that an innkeeper here must bear an unblemished character or his house is shut1 and that the guests often come with a letter from their last innkeeper1 but not always1 and yet we all sleep with half an inch of rice-paper between us1 and walls of sliding panels4 ,could a hotelful of civilised ,europeans be so trusted8 ,if not to steal1 then not to pry as well8 ,but here nobody looks4 ,although we have become great personages indeed1 nobody looks4 ,and in the big towns as in the country villages1 in railway hotels as in this remote corner of the ,land of the ,gods1 we have slept in absolute security in rooms that are always open4 ,only once in all our wanderings did someone push the shji4 ,it was an ,ijin ,san who thought it was 8a lark40 99 99 99 99 99 ,and so we lived in the ,land of the ,gods and learnt wisdom1 wisdom from the lake1 and the hills1 and the rice-fields1 from the night and the daylight1 and the inner beauty of the land lay before our eyes1 still dim1 for western eyes are blind to eastern meaning through want of power to focus1 but in part we saw1 and the joy of that seeing has never passed away4 ,the town1 the inn1 the comely landlady1 and the wee1 wide-eyed children all taught us wisdom and the meaning and the beauty of the land4 ,slowly we saw1 dimly too1 for western eyes are very blind to eastern meaning1 and race1 religion1 training and the whole up-make of our ideas and beliefs stand so often in the way4 ,still in part we saw1 and the lessons of that seeing have never passed away4 ,we had come in all humility1 so the ,gods were kind4 ,they opened our eyes that we might see4 99 99 99 99 99 ,when we announced that we were going the household was upset4 ,and on the last morning of our stay they all1 landlord1 landlady1 plain daughter1 goggle-eyed waiting-girls1 came in a procession bearing gifts4 ,we had fans to keep us cool upon the journey1 white towels with pictures of the inn in blue1 and above all1 gifts of the beautiful ,matsu china which we had so much admired4 ,everything was tied up in the neatest parcels wrapped in pieces of brocade1 and presented on lacquered trays4 ,on the top of the ,matsu china lay a tiny white paper cone lined with red in which was stuck a splinter of bamboo cane1 the modern symbol of the old-time fish which was always presented with each gift4 ,and the meaning of the whole is peace1 plenty1 and prosperity4 ,we had nothing so beautiful to give in exchange1 only a cake of foreign soap and a visiting-card4 ,the cake of soap was considered by the rest of the household1 including the old grandmother1 who had come in1 as a palpable hit1 and the visiting-cards were much prized4 ,then with every one carrying our luggage we were escorted to the gravel recess of the entrance1 where our kurumaya stood waiting1 and all the household went down on its knees on the polished wooden platform and said sweet sayonara4 ,and there in the walled-in recess with the wooden gheta lying on the big grey block of stone the kneeling figures stayed4 ,clad in their dark blue kimono with the bright-coloured obi at the waist1 they knelt on the polished wood1 their heads on their hands1 their hands on the floor2 and as they knelt the rolls and whorls of their coiffures seemed to grow like flowers from bending stalks of blue4 8,sayonara10 they said1 and all the blue stalks swayed4 8,sayonara10 we called back4 8,farewell40 ,oh1 dear ,land of the ,gods that has taught us wisdom1 not you1 but we have need to fare well4 ,,vi ,,the ,,two ,,spirits ,out of the town and above it1 the daimy of ,matsu once built him a castle1 and he filled it with the stern warriors whose soul was their sword4 ,daimy after daimy lived and died1 and still a daimy ruled over ,izumo2 and warrior after warrior fought and was slain1 and still the samurai learned the laws of the bushi1 the way of the warrior1 and the strong fortress of ,matsu1 with its moat and its walls1 was guarded and kept by men whose lives were one long servitude to honour and duty4 ,the grim ideals of a code which feared no death and no torture1 which exacted the sternest courage and self-control1 were taught and practised in the castle of ,matsu1 until the ,son of ,heaven ruled in ,tokyo and daimy and samurai were feudal lord and loyal vassal no longer4 ,the grim walls are standing now1 the castle with its moat still rises above ,matsu to possess it1 but the spirit of its fierce dominance is gone2 instead1 that twin-soul of the ,japanese race has entered into the stronghold1 the ,love of ,beauty has cast out the ,love of ,battle1 the sword is changed to flowers1 for in the moat of the castle the lotus is blooming4 ,stern and very strong the grey walls rise high into the air1 they have not lost their grimness though their feet are bathed in flowers4 ,it is true the gateway is broken1 and where the drawbridge once fell there is now a broad path of stamped earth1 but the long lines of solid wall are firm still and uninjured4 ,they still rise frowning from out the deep waters of the moat2 but to-day the moat itself has disappeared1 in its place the broad thick leaves of the lotus stretch like a silvery green river around the walls4 ,so broad1 so strong1 so helpless1 the great leaves hang like unsteady giants on their stalks1 and the pin-points of water gather and gather on the hairy surface1 till the leaf curls to a cup and a big waterdrop1 molten as quicksilver1 runs gleaming over the green4 ,the lotus leaves lie all lazy at angles of rest1 but the flowers seem to rise on their stalks as birds taking wing4 ,all pure white or palest pink1 each single flower is a giant's handful of blossom1 and yet the petals are delicate1 almost transparent2 thin1 too1 in their texture1 but of a satiny softness1 they curl with the grace of a rose above the pure gold of their hearts4 ,the lotus leaves dream inert1 each on its stalk hangs drooping1 often awry3 they encircle the walls like a green river of water that stagnantly sleeps2 but the flowers are awake and they rise from their leaves as the ,spirit of ,beauty once rose from the waters4 ,all pure white on this side of the gateway1 all pale pink on that1 the great cups of blossom stand stately4 ,very fragile in their texture1 and yet so ample in their form the lotus flower seems the meeting-point of luxuriance and grace2 the point where more of either were really less of both4 ,with its roots deep down in the mud1 with its leaves often frankly ridiculous in the large uncouthness of their attitudes1 with its beauty in no way ethereal1 the lotus is yet the symbol of ,death1 not of ,nirvana1 but of ,death1 of the completing of one brief period in this long cycle which we call ,life4 ,so in ,matsu they planted the moat of the castle with the flower of the lotus for the life of ,old ,japan1 of castle and daimy and samurai1 is ended4 ,it is ,death but a new ,beginning4 99 99 99 99 99 ,beyond the gateway1 a grass-grown flight of granite steps leads to the castle1 and we climb4 ,all the castles in all ,japan are the same1 bigger or smaller1 with details of decoration or style that differentiate them1 they are yet in the broad outlines of their architecture one and the same4 ,a ,japanese house is ,japanese1 but the castle comes from ,china1 at least originally1 and its pagoda character is very evident4 ,the castle at ,matsu had its ground floor of stone1 rough-hewn blocks of granite which fitted closely to each other without mortar4 ,the stone storey1 as all the succeeding ones of wood above it1 tapered gradually inwards so that the topmost wooden storey would have fitted into the one below it1 and that into the next1 and all into the square stone box of the ground floor1 as neatly as the nest of baskets sold in the streets of the town below4 ,inside1 the rough-hewn stone walls were left as bare as the outside1 and a long steep ladder of a staircase1 which began abruptly in the middle of one floor to end with equal abruptness in the middle of the floor above1 led from storey to storey4 ,the stone storey was divided into two1 the rest were of wood1 and all now were absolutely bare and unadorned2 the mere outer shell of a building which had once lived and sheltered lives4 ,only in the top floor1 where on all four sides sliding panels of glass had replaced the rice-paper shji1 was there any sign of life4 ,this room had been turned into a sort of ,military ,museum with relics of the ,china war1 swords and guns1 and a whole long series of wonderful coloured prints1 with the ,chinese always fleeing1 their long1 long pigtails floating in the breeze1 the ,japanese always pursuing with impossible profiles and highly polished boots2 and gravely studying the pictures was a group of schoolboys4 ,their comments were mostly bloodthirsty2 the best way of sticking the pink ,chinaman on the left1 or of beheading the yellow one on the right2 but they did not seem moved with any animosity or any sense of triumph1 they merely discussed the sword-cuts scientifically1 seriously1 as though it were a grave business of life and they wished to arrive at a right conclusion4 99 99 99 99 99 ,matsu's castle is beyond and above the town1 and the daimy who built it and the warriors who guarded it looked down on this side over the grey roofs of the houses to the wide blue waters of the still lagoon1 on that side over the grey roofs of the houses and the sweep of the quiet rice-fields where the river1 like a broad path of steel wanders through the bright green fields2 and further round they looked to where the tall trees climb the steep hillsides1 and further still to the great blue lines of the hills themselves shutting in the sky4 ,and the old warriors in their watch-tower looked out over this wide fair world which lay so still around them4 ,they guarded the castle and they kept it1 and the light that was set in that tower was the light of courage and of duty4 ,over the world beneath their feet it shone out clear and bright1 but the world was wider than their horizon4 ,after many years they learned that lesson1 and then they came down from their watch-tower1 and the light which once burned there in the castle is gone to-day through all the land4 ,then the ,spirit of ,beauty1 the soul of that world which lay so still beneath the tower1 went up to the castle1 where with courage and duty the love of battle and of death had ruled so long1 to possess it4 ,and in the waters of the moat the lotus is blooming4 99 99 99 99 99 ,with its roots in the mud1 say the ,japanese ,buddhists1 the lotus flower is an emblem of man1 of a good man in this wicked world4 ,from among the sins and the passions of life ,buddha himself rose perfect1 pure as the lotus1 and perfect4 ,so for a sign and a comfort to all men1 ,lord ,buddha himself sits throned on the lotus1 showing how ,goodness ,eternal came1 not from good1 but from the midst of things evil4 ,in the moat of the castle the people of ,matsu have planted whole fields of the lotus1 that the flower which is perfect might grow from the sins of the past1 grow with each cycle of ,life ever more perfect4 ,,the ,,heart ,,of ,,the ,,people 8,shakspeare would have us know that there is no devotion to truth1 to justice1 to charity1 more intense and real than that of the man who is faithful to them out of the sheer spirit of loyalty1 unstimulated and unsupported by any faith which can be called theological40 ,,dowden1 8,shakspeare1 his ,mind and ,art40 ,i ,,tokyo ,tokyo is a city of one million five hundred thousand souls1 and in its heart of hearts stands the ,palace of the ,son of ,heaven4 ,the city through its girdle of brown streets works hard1 its wharfs and factories1 its shops and warehouses are dense with human life and resonant with human labour4 ,the low brown streets so thick with flimsy paper houses stretch for ten miles along the plain4 ,in them the children play1 the kuruma pass quickly1 the heavy laden hand-carts of the coolies push and jostle1 but the heart of this great capital lies still4 ,from circumference to centre as you come1 through street on street of houses1 wharves and shops1 the magic of the city grows4 ,first the streets space out and out1 then the houses dwindle as the trees and gardens grow1 greener1 wilder1 stiller1 till the heart of ,tokyo's city is a moated park of peace4 ,up nine steep hills the city spreads1 and sea and river1 and the wide green rice-fields lap it round1 while far away across the land1 above the level blue of sky great ,fuji rises peerless in the midmost heaven4 ,engirdled by the thronged and busy streets the nine tall hills peaceful with well-kept houses and secluded gardens1 make a crescent round the moated park4 ,for in this strange city whose centre is a palace and a peaceful walled-in pleasaunce the 8suburbs0 lie within and not without the town4 ,and through the town and over street and roadway1 in the gardens and the courtyards the gaunt beaked crows flap coal-black wings as they sail past1 and their cynical 8,haw1 haw0 is sarcastic with an utter disbelief4 ,with stately swoop1 black wings outspread1 they drift past the ear of the newcomer confident with a three weeks' visit that he understands the ,east1 and in the midst of his cocksureness they drop their cold1 sarcastic 8,haw40 ,brown and so crowded are the streets1 bewildering with their jostle of blue-clad men and women1 their open stalls1 their unmade roads of earth stretching flat between the houses on each side1 where man-drawn carts1 and kuruma1 passengers1 and children get in each other's way4 ,the white uniformed policeman1 sword on thigh1 stands1 a bronze statue1 at each busy corner1 and to him even the criminal is polite4 ,and down the streets and through and through the town1 cut straight or winding1 the brown canals1 valleys of black mud1 or slow streams of dark water1 run to the river and the sea4 ,and thousands upon thousands1 too1 seem the bridges1 some flat and narrow as gangways1 most arched in a crescent curve1 and the brown canals run from the sea and from the river far within the town4 ,on one of them1 at high tide1 a steamer like the ark of ,noah plies4 ,it seems to go indifferently stern or bow foremost1 and is no larger than a big-sized rowing boat4 ,the one landing-stage to which ,i traced it was like a pasteboard on two rolling-pins1 and stood as the threshold to the back door of a house4 ,a ,european picture hung above the entrance1 bright with greens and blues and reds and yellows1 where this resplendent steamer floating amid green waves1 showed at alternate windows a head1 male1 ,japanese1 dressed 8foreign02 a head1 female1 ,japanese1 dressed ,japanese4 ,a policeman and a soldier both in uniform balanced on the deck at either end4 ,the ark's ports of call1 as its starting-place and destination1 remained a mystery4 ,at low tide the canal was an inch of water between two banks of mud1 and only at high tide could this toy ark float at all4 99 99 99 99 99 ,one long1 straight street1 broken into sections at the bridges1 and then reset at different angles1 runs from end to end of ,tokyo1 runs from ,shimbashi to ,ueno1 from the 8,mercantile ,marine ,store10 which sells dried fishes1 to the ,parcels ,office of that delicious 8,internal ,railway10 otherwise unknown to fame4 ,this is the main street of the town1 here is the ,ginza1 with its red brick sidewalks1 its shop-boys who speak ,english1 even its plate glass windows4 ,here1 too1 is the goldsmith who advertises3 8,,rings1 ,,bronchitis1 ,,and ,,other ,,jewelry4 ,,best ,,kinds ,,only ,,kept ,,in ,,stock02 ,and the residence of that mysterious baker who keeps3 8,,beards1 ,,vine ,,cakes ,,and ,,slor ,,for ,,sale40 ,and down it from end to end runs ,tokyo's main tramway4 ,with the river on the east1 the moated park upon the west1 north and south the broad street runs1 and the park of ,shiba lies at one end and the park of ,ueno at the other4 ,shiba1 where the tombstones of the dead shgun lie in their sumptuous lacquered temples2 ,ueno1 where the lacquered temples stand bullet-pierced1 for the soldiers of the shgun and the soldiers of the emperor fought their last fight here before the great ,tenshisama came back to his own again4 ,once the closed gardens of ,buddhistic monasteries1 both parks now are open to the town1 bicycles ride through them1 nursemaids1 their babies on their backs1 loiter in them1 little girls play classic games of bones1 boys catch grasshoppers1 while beneath the trees the low red blanketed tables of the chaya offer d4 teas4 ,the ,park of ,shiba is green and quiet1 smaller than ,ueno1 for its temples hold so large a space4 ,it is a forest growing in the heart of a town4 ,ueno is lighter1 brighter1 fuller of flowers and festivals1 with long avenues of cherry-trees1 and a lake where the lotus flowers grow thickly4 ,and over the lake and the temples1 over the cherry-trees and the tea-stalls1 over the city below and the playing children within1 the big bronze bell of ,ueno sends forth its great booming note--that note which is outside our music1 deeper1 more liquid1 which comes with its low1 booming sway1 just when daylight turns to darkness4 ,cast of bronze and silver1 rung by a wooden beam that strikes a boss outside1 the note of the great bell comes swaying as though the air were water4 ,and slowly over the city the bell booms1 trembling1 and he who hears it sits still and thinks2 sits lost and dreams of the song of the seven spheres4 99 99 99 99 99 ,when ,ueno's avenues of cherry-trees are pink with flowers1 when the stalls beneath the trees are full of flower hairpins1 then ,tokyo through its gardens and its roadways blushes too1 for the whole city is planted thick with cherry-trees4 ,not only on the river bank1 where the long two-mile avenue of ,mukojima is a perpetual fte1 but everywhere1 in private gardens and in public streets1 the delicate1 pale pink blossoms on their brown leafless branches catch the sunshine and the showers1 and fall as little rosy clouds from heaven on to the ground beneath4 ,for ,tokyo is a city holding the country in its lap4 ,not an artificial bedded-out country1 stiff as a ,versailles park1 but the real wayward country1 though tended with a loving1 understanding care4 ,and ,tokyo is a city brimful of flowers4 ,between the cherry-trees of ,april and the chrysanthemums of ,november most of the flowers can be seen within the city in temple courts or nursery gardens or public parks4 ,the lake of the lotus at ,ueno is famous through ,japan1 and in the temple of ,kameido grow the age-old wistarias4 ,trained on horizontal trellis work1 their long pale tassels hang down towards the water1 stirring with each breeze4 ,the trailing clusters of the flowers grow four feet long sometimes1 and droop towards the surface of the lake in thick swaying pendants of pure colour4 ,behind these living curtains1 in a twilight of pale mauve or soft white light1 on the edge of the pond whose shape spells 8heart10 sometimes afloat on the pond itself1 the tables of the chaya stand1 and those who make holiday because the flowers are blooming1 all ,tokyo1 sit and look1 drinking wee bowls of pale green tea1 or writing poems to the flowers4 ,on the waters of this lake of the letter 8heart0 float the pale mauve petals and the petals of pure white1 which fall and drift and sink1 and fall and drift and sink1 until the waters are hidden with flower flakes and the wistaria is over and gone4 ,kameido lies on the far bank of the ,sumidagawa1 in a network of poor streets1 for the left bank of the river1 like the big island at its mouth1 is denser with yards and factories than is the right4 ,the streets are narrower1 fuller of children and the noise of hammers and of wheels4 ,yet in this poor wage-working quarter the festivals of the plum-blossoms1 the wistaria1 and the peony are held4 ,in all ,japan there is no other flower fte which in the least resembles a horticultural show except that of ,botan1 the tree-peony4 ,for when the peony blooms1 the little trees1 large as dwarf rose-bushes1 are placed on tiers inside a matted tent4 ,there the resemblance ends4 ,these plants are set each in a framework of space1 and the colours are grouped and blended with the thought and the instinct of an artist4 ,the flowers of the peony are as large as the largest chrysanthemum1 larger than ours1 but their petals are rich1 made of satin where ours are of cotton1 delicate1 fragile1 and sheeny4 ,the colouring is soft and subdued1 and the faint sweet scent which comes from them is like the dream of a rose4 ,the colours are simple1 white warming to cream1 paling to snow1 and all the tints of pale reds1 deep reds1 and crimsons4 ,the matting which covers them is of pale yellow1 but somehow the light1 as it comes through it1 touched perhaps by the flowers1 is the light of a dream--as sunlight without heat1 as moonlight warmed and living1 a light that shimmers1 holding colour fast within1 yet fast asleep4 ,to-day the light in that peony tent at ,kameido remains to me as definite as the flowers1 as distinct as the scent1 as real and1 in truth1 more beautiful4 ,it was as though one saw the radiance of an unknown1 unmade jewel1 light but not yet substance4 99 99 99 99 99 ,all this left bank of the river from ,fukagawa to ,eko-in is full of workmen and workshops1 of small trades and smaller traders1 and here in the month of ,may in the grounds of the temple raised to the memory of the hundred thousand citizens killed in the great fire of #afeg1 the yearly wrestling contests are held4 ,the ,sm1 tall1 broad1 powerful men1 many six feet high or more1 who dress in large checked kimono and wear their hair in the old-fashioned top-knot1 are adored by the populace who come in thousands to see them4 ,the little round platform of stamped earth sprinkled with sand1 set in the midst of a huge amphitheatre of faces1 shows small as a raft on the sea1 and slight despite its purple trapping4 ,the crowd1 a ,tokyo crowd in kimono and foreign head-gear1 cap1 bowler1 and felt hat1 sit from morning until night1 day in day out1 for the three long weeks of the wrestling matches4 ,the wrestlers stand1 knees bent1 body horizontal1 their out stretched hands almost touching the ground1 and grip4 ,and the bout is long because the grip must be accepted by both of them1 and because between each false grip the two retire slowly to their respective sides and wash out their mouths with tea4 ,this may be repeated a dozen1 twenty times1 but when the real grip comes1 then the action can be swift as lightning2 the opponent forced beyond the straw rope which lies upon the sanded earth of the ring1 before one realises that the wrestle has begun1 or pushed down over it with the slow resistless force of flowing water1 or the two may sway about interminably before one is beaten4 ,bulk is not the one ideal of the wrestler1 the young and strong rely on their activity2 it is only when a man is getting older that he weights himself with fat1 that his bulk and heaviness may prove too great for his opponent easily to push over4 ,the wrestlers all wear waistbands and stiff fringes of blue silk1 and the rippling of the muscles beneath their golden brown skin is such a joy as the ,greek nation knew at the time of the ,olympiads4 ,a man with a fan1 an average-sized ,japanese who hardly comes above the elbows of some of the wrestlers acts as starter1 as umpire1 and as referee1 and the sharp s-s-sh of his shutting fan can be heard distinctly in the silence of the amphitheatre4 ,the judges1 four old tried wrestlers1 sit under purple hangings and decide disputed points1 while half the front tier is reserved for the ,sm themselves4 ,but to the non-,japanese it is not the wrestlers but the spectators who are the centre of interest4 ,here gathered together within the amphitheatre1 concentrated on one thought1 absorbed1 therefore natural1 sit samples of all ,tokyo4 ,for the ,sm1 like our prize fight of last century1 is beloved by the populace and patronised by the aristocracy4 ,every one takes some sort of interest in it1 and results are as widely known as the ,derby or a test match4 ,the crowd1 a crowd of men and boys1--for the fathers bring their little sons with them1--knows1 as well as the umpire himself1 the forty-eight falls1 the twelve lifts1 the twelve throws1 the twelve twists1 the twelve throws over the back1 alone allowed the ,japanese wrestler4 ,the excitement at disputed points is intense1 the whole amphitheatre arguing with its neighbour4 ,the enthusiasm at a brilliant1 a quick1 or a well-contested throw is intoxicating4 ,spectators will rise in their seats and throw down presents1 tobacco-pouches1 purses1 hats1 or other property1 which the owner redeems next morning in money4 ,the ,sm are the idols of the street boys1 and tall1 huge1 unintelligent1 in gaudy kimono and well-oiled top-knots1 they stride through the ,tokyo streets haughty1 and sometimes overbearing4 ,we think of the ,japanese as unalterably small1 yet here is a class1 bone of their bone1 flesh of their flesh1 who are huge1 strong1 large-framed men1 taller than the tall races of the north4 ,they are another and a living contradiction of the imaginary minisculism of the nation4 ,if the ,japanese desire to produce big things1 in war1 in statues1 or in men1 they take thought1 they take care2 much thought1 infinite care1 and somehow it is done4 99 99 99 99 99 ,so ,tokyo wrestles1 works and plays1 and this left bank of the river toils and lives hard4 ,across the water ,tsukiji1 secluded in its 8foreign0 residences1 dwells genteel1 and gossips4 ,the ,ginza shops4 ,the suburbs far within the circle of the streets grow hedged-in gardens and long avenues of trees1 where the houses lie unseen4 ,the schools1 the training colleges1 and the university1 a cityful of students study1 and boys in cotton hakama and dark-peaked soldiers' caps walk through the streets--boys who are passing from the indulged childhood of ,japan to the iron self-control of manhood4 ,there is apparent in their ways and manners a touch of self-assertiveness1 a touch of almost self-conceit1 which at no other time in their own lives1 and at no time at all in any other member of the community1 will ever be observable4 ,it is but a touch1 and would pass unseen in any other land1 in any other setting2 here it stands out palpable4 ,a little hard these boys look and very earnest4 ,they will strike work if they think a teacher is not competent to teach1 so bent are they on learning4 ,they seem to have accepted school as the modern training of the samurai1 and to study in that spirit4 ,the scholarship boys at ,government ,colleges work harder still and on the narrowest of means4 ,they can afford so little for their board that one whole college gave up playing base-ball in its recreation hour because 8it made them too hungry40 ,and at the ,university1 where the students matriculate at twenty and stay till twenty-four and five1 for beside their own learning1 beside the ten thousand ,chinese symbols and all the philosophy of the ,east1 they must to-day add the learning of the ,west1 the languages of ,europe1 the laws1 the sciences1 and the arts of another civilisation and of an alien race1 at the ,university the students live lives of hardest brainwork and rigidest economy4 ,many spend their evenings in earning the money that buys their day4 ,some deliver newspapers and sleep in the porches of 8foreign0 houses4 ,many die of consumption1 brought on by over-work and under-feeding4 ,across the river the hammers ring1 the wheels whir round1 the hum of a people's toil sounds in all ears4 ,here within the girdle of the streets1 between the factories and the palace is a work doing1 silent1 less perceptible but harder1 higher and undertaken for that end4 99 99 99 99 99 ,between the hard work of hand and brain ,ginza and ,nihon-bashi shop1 and at night the wire-drawn twang of the samisen comes from the lighted restaurants4 ,restaurants where each diner or each party occupies a separate room1 and geisha girls are sent for to entertain the guests1 with puns and games1 with polite conversations and endless repartee4 ,they sit on the kneeling cushions throughout the meal pouring sak--and amuse4 ,then they dance4 ,posturing and swaying to an accompaniment of samisen and song they glide over the matting always graceful1 always reserved4 ,the quality of their dancing rings passionless1 dainty1 graceful1 not cold but controlled4 ,an air of serenity surrounds them4 ,they are not trained to the duties of womanhood1 but to its heaviest burden--pleasing4 ,the licensed playthings of the nation1 toys to amuse1 they reach up to their limited1 low-scaled destiny1 through the perpetual sacrifice of self2 and the national self-control encases them1 so much their very own that few perceive it4 ,with very different fates and from very different motives there is about them1 as they dance1 something of the charm and of the aloofness of ,andersen's mermaiden2 and if their steps too are as steps upon a sword1 they1 too1 will smile untroubled4 99 99 99 99 99 ,so the city strives and pleasures1 so the city learns and toils4 ,full and full of life the streets1 quiet and very still the heart4 ,the nine tall hills from ,shiba to ,ueno make a crescent round the moat1 the brown streets lie without1 the ,mikado dwells within4 ,born as a camp ,yedo made its ruler's seat its centre1 its nobles' yashiki an enclosing wall2 and then beyond1 out of sight and sound1 the necessary1 unimportant commonfolk had leave to work and sell4 ,tokyo to-day is still as ,yedo was4 ,yashiki are pulled down1 their ground is sold1 but parliaments and embassies1 nobles' houses and their gardens1 still make a circle round the palace1 a space of suburb and of peace between the city and its centre4 ,over the streets and the roadways1 through parks and gardens1 the black-winged crows sail past cynical1 unbelieving4 ,the web of brown canals beneath their high-arched bridges1 the broad uncertain river sometimes slowly1 sometimes fiercely1 all flow towards the sea4 ,the land-locked ocean1 and the pale green rice-fields ripple round the streets4 ,from sixty miles across the plain great ,fuji looks towards the capital4 ,and here in ,tokyo's heart1 in ,dai ,nippon's heart of hearts1 not the usurping shgun or general in his camp1 but ,tenshisama1 ,son of ,heaven1 bestower of a western constitution1 augustly dwells4 ,,ii ,,east ,,and ,,west ,,east ,the large red building covered all over with ,chinese characters--a white sign on each cardboard square of red--overlooks the canal4 ,it seems too gaudy and unsubstantial a building for sober work1 and yet all day long multitudes of dark-blue coolies1 like ,florentine noblemen run to seed1 go in and out4 ,fantastic key patterns in white are traced upon the skirts of their blue tunics1 while on each back is a large red circle covered with the hieroglyph of the building4 ,they may earn some #f;d4 a day for twelve long working hours4 ,from among the pale straw-coloured bales emerge two workmen4 ,there are patches in their dark-blue hose1 and the brown toes stick out through the blue of their divided socks4 ,even the blue designs on the white towels around their heads have faded away with much washing4 ,catching sight of one another they bow low4 ,a step nearer1 and the jaunty ends of white towel tied in a knot on the forehead of one man1 touch his knee4 ,the other1 whose towel is tied like a night-cap round his head and under his chin1 bends lower still4 ,another step1 and the indrawn whistles of politeness grow loud and shrill4 ,another1 and the white towels disappear entirely between the blue legs4 ,then the night-capped one straightens himself and speaks3 8,shitsurei de gozaimas ga1 chotto hi o kashte kudasai0 78,although this is great rudeness on my part10 he says1 8would you condescend to lend me a match407 ,,west ,between two rows of slovenly houses a long grey street stretches away1 wet and grimy4 ,there is just one break in the grey monotony where the gin palace stands in all its gilt and plate-glass splendour4 ,coming up the street are two workmen4 ,the billycock hats on their heads have lost their brim1 and show more dirty stain than original black4 ,as they catch sight of one another across the street they pause4 ,suddenly one removes the clay pipe from his lips and spits profusely4 ,the other eyes him1 his hands in his pockets2 then he too takes the short pipe from between his lips1 and jerking his head in the direction of the public house1 slowly puts out his tongue4 ,the first billycock replaces his pipe with care1 crosses the road1 and with a sanguinary word they both disappear within the doors of the gin palace4 ,,iii ,,yon',s ,,baby ,it lay on the matted floor1 a little brown thing that cried1 and ,yon sat on her heels and looked at it4 ,huddled over the brazier in the corner1 her skinny hands stretched out to clutch the warmth from the sticks of glowing charcoal1 the old grandmother dozed and grumbled4 ,and ,yon did not move4 ,the ,ijin ,san for whom she worked had told her she ought to take care of her dead daughter's child and bring it up2 but ,yon's conscience1 the conscience of her race1 the inherited upbringing of her dead fathers1 made her instinctively turn towards the ,o ,b ,san in the corner4 ,she could not feed two mouths4 ,life was hard for ,yon2 and the ,o ,b ,san had a good appetite though she was so old4 ,so ,yon sat on her heels and sullenly listened to the quavering wail without moving4 8,if the gods wanted the child to live1 why had they let its mother die8 ,why had its father divorced the little wife #8for temper' before the baby was born8 ,it was ,fate4 ,and after all the baby was very small and ugly1 a little1 cross sickly thing that cried4 ,no1 it had much better die1 much better40 ,and ,yon got up1 and went to get ready the evening rice for the ,o ,b ,san4 ,as she did so the shadow of the ,ijin ,san herself fell across the floor1 and her voice1 in very ,english ,japanese1 asked after the baby4 ,yon was down on her knees in a moment1 drawing in her breath through her teeth in long whistles of politeness4 8,the baby was not well1 as the ,ijin ,san could see4 ,it did nothing but cry2 and after all what was the use8 ,it had much better die40 ,the ,ijin ,san sat down on the little platform1 the shji pushed back between her and the room1 in consternation4 ,after all she had said the day before1 all she had urged1 ,yon still clung to that awful idea4 ,the ,ijin ,san had a shrewd suspicion that the old lady in the corner had something to do with ,yon's idea 8it was better baby die40 ,it would be quite easy for 8baby to die0 too1 and that without much active doing on ,yon's part4 ,so she sat there perplexed1 the baby cuddled up in her arms4 ,moral persuasions she had tried1 and appeals to ,yon's conscience1 her love for her dead daughter1 her duty--all in vain4 ,and she looked down at the queer little atom in its bright red kimono1 with the wide flapping sleeves1 wondering whether it would look quite so odd dressed like other babies1 her own for instance1 and she smiled4 ,it was a last chance any way4 8,yon10 she said1 holding up the baby4 8,how would you like to see him dressed like the ,bot'chan40 8,h10 cried ,yon1 turning round1 her vanity awake in a moment4 8,well1 if you'll take care of him1 ,i'll dress him in foreign clothes1 and he'll look just like the ,bot'chan40 ,yon's strangled 8h's0 of admiration grew deeper and deeper4 ,her admiration for the ,ijin ,san's ,bot'chan knew no bounds2 and then the pride of having a foreign-dressed baby of her own6 ,why1 not one of her acquaintances1 not even the rich sak merchant at the corner1 dressed their children 8foreign fashion40 ,it was a height beyond their ambition1 a dizzy pinnacle only reached by the samurai and the ,court6 ,and ,yon's strangled 8h's0 of admiration and her indrawn whistles of politeness knew no bounds4 ,even the ,o ,b ,san in the corner turned her head round and showed some signs of interest4 ,and the baby stopped its feeble cry and lay back on the ,ijin ,san's lap--and smiled4 ,with a sudden swoop ,yon caught it up4 8,i take care1 ,i take care10 she said1 8let the ,ijin ,san bring the clothes40 ,and from that day she went about her work with the quaintest little brown morsel in a foreign pelisse and a white bonnet nodding over her shoulder4 ,and neither the ,o ,b ,san nor the baby ever went hungry whatever ,yon might do4 ,,iv ,,the ,,graves ,,of ,,the ,r,,nin ,the white wing of a blossoming plum-tree casts a pale shadow across the pebbled steps of the causeway1 and the spring sunshine is warm4 ,behind1 under the great gate of the temple1 is a stall with souvenir tea-bowls of the ,forty-,seven ,rnin and the red blankets of a tiny chaya4 ,in front1 at the end of the causeway1 stands a ,japanese father with his little son1 buying bundles of incense sticks from the ,buddhist sexton4 ,coming up the path are two peasants with bare1 brown legs1 one wearing the old-fashioned gunhammer top-knot4 ,and the plum-tree1 its scent warm and fragrant1 lies a white wing above the path4 ,the ,japanese father1 samurai from his face1 and modern by his clothes1 and his son have passed into the graveyard before us4 ,but we all stand together in the little square garden on the side of the hill1 with its thickly clustered tombstones1 shaped like ,moses' ,tables of the ,law in the ,child's ,bible1 set in the flat brown earth4 ,below1 a sharply falling line of dark green shrubs2 above1 the overhanging trees of the hillside2 and the garden is quiet and still1 with a little chill of damp and death that sobers and subdues4 ,before each stone tablet on the earthen path are bamboo vases filled with freshly cut branches of evergreens1 and the burning incense sticks trail a thin scarf of smoke along the ground4 ,the two old peasants are busy sticking their thin1 brown incense tapers into the little heaps of grey ash--to become grey ashes in their turn4 ,the little son has already lit his before the tomb of ,oishi ,kuranosuk2 and the father1 gravely feeling in the pocket of his 8foreign0 coat1 takes out a visiting-card1 and lays it reverently among the pile of others on the grave4 ,then they go away slowly4 ,and ,i catch the names of ,asano ,takumi no ,kami and ,kira ,ktsuk no ,suk1 and ,i know that the little son is listening to the story of the ,forty-,seven ,rnin4 ,for two hundred years now they have come up the pebbled pathway into the graveyard1 country peasant and ,tokyo gentlemen coming with incense sticks and flowering branches1 to keep green the memory of the loyal retainers who died to revenge their lord3 coming in kimono and top-knot3 still coming in foreign clothes and shappo1 for the old spirit lives though the outer form is changing4 ,the fierce unswerving loyalty1 the utter self-sacrifice1 the tenacity and strength of the ,forty-,seven ,rnin still stir the soul of the modern ,japanese under their foreign envelope as it stirred the heart of those fierce old samurai1 with their hands ever on the hilt of their long two-handed swords4 8,thou shalt not live under the same heaven nor tread the same earth as the enemy of thy father or thy master10 says the ,scripture4 ,and the ,forty-,seven died1 and more than died1 to fulfil the commandment4 ,in the temple below their wooden effigies stand to this day4 ,among them are old men and young boys--one with the grey locks of seventy-seven1 one with the boyish cheeks of seventeen--but neither the old man nor the young boy faltered1 through all the long months of waiting1 in the dangerous moment of the struggle or after4 ,they plotted and endured2 they fought and slew2 they brought the bloody head of ,kira ,ktsuk no ,suk1 washed in the well beyond the plum-tree1 here to the grave of their dead lord2 they gave themselves up to ,justice2 they carried out the sentence of death on their own bodies with their own hands--all with the same quiet self-control which only the sense of a supreme1 absorbing duty can produce4 ,and the ,forty-,seven were buried here1 in the quiet cold graveyard1 beside the body of their lord4 ,and when they had been laid to rest there came a fierce two-sworded samurai to the little garden1 and1 kneeling down in front of the tomb of ,oishi ,kuranosuk1 he took his dirk from his belt and stabbed himself above the grave4 ,for he had insulted ,oishi ,kuranosuk1 in the long months of the waiting1 thinking he had forgotten his lord4 ,so they buried him among the ,forty-,seven1 and before his tomb are flowering branches and burning incense tapers4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the two old peasants are gone1 but the sound of coming steps is on the pebbled pathway4 ,it is the feet of the nation4 ,they come to keep their age long watch above the graves of the ,loyal ,rnin4 ,v ,,the ,,dolls' ,,festival ,enshrined in their white wooden boxes the dolls look down2 and the gently drifting crowd stare their fill4 ,it is the eve of the ,dolls' ,festival1 and for a hundred yards along the wide ,odri1 the street is wreathed across and across with swaying lines of paper lanterns4 ,on each matted floor1 raised knee-high from the ground1 a shopman sits on his heels1 his hands eternally stretched out over the charcoal fire of the hibachi4 ,the background of dolls on three sides of him seem as interested in their sale as he4 ,the crowd drifts1 talks1 points1 looks1 but he sits still1 absorbed in his occupation4 ,occasionally he will turn a languid head over one shoulder in the direction of an inquiring voice1 and tranquilly name a price four times bigger than he expects to get2 but unless the customer pursues the bargain with vigour he does not stir4 ,even then1 all the talking is done without moving more than a head4 ,and when the culminating point arrives at which the would-be buyer shakes the dust off his feet and makes vigorously for the next shop1 he murmurs an impassive 8,yorosh0 78,all right071 and warms another finger1 while a boy in the background1 who for ever dusts the stock-in-trade1 does up the parcel and takes the money4 ,i wonder--would anything stir this blas image of indifference8 ,perhaps if a fool or a foreigner1 interchangeable terms in the ,east1 paid the price he asked he might----4 ,no1 8,yorosh1 yorosh10 he murmurs1 and does not interrupt the warming of his hands by a finger's-breadth4 ,for ten long days now the dolls1 all in the quaint robes of old1 have looked down on the gently drifting crowd1 emperor and empress1 lords and ladies1 and court musicians4 ,the red silk trousers and the flowing hair1 the cut-glass chandelier-like head-dress and the wide1 wide sleeved kimono2 the court lady leading her lap-dog2 the musicians with their instruments2 and along the lower shelves1 the long procession of lacquered bowls1 and tables and furniture1 the old1 old shapes of ,old ,japan1 the realities buried for ever in museums1 and only these1 their midget substitutes1 enjoying a brief life once a year4 ,they are so neat and pretty1 of such exquisite workmanship and finish1 that ,i stay to look and look4 ,behind me the crowd closes in thicker and thicker1 looking too--but at me2 so thickly that they obstruct the rails of ,tokyo's main tramway1 and cause it much embarrassment4 ,to-morrow is the ,dolls' ,festival1 and all the world is buying2 ,i1 too1 would like to buy4 ,so ,i sit still on the edge of the matted floor and watch4 ,i shall learn what ,i ought to give and how to conduct the intricate matter of a purchase4 ,but though they were here before me1 and though they stay long after me1 and though ,i wait with what ,i consider quite ,oriental patience1 they do not buy1 not one of them1 they only talk4 ,so ,i am compelled to conduct my own purchase without the aid of native example1 and to the certain advantage of the impassive shopman4 ,does any one ever buy anything in ,tokyo8 ,in all my many wanderings ,i have never seen them1 patiently as ,i have stalked them4 ,they are always just going--just going--just going---- ,perhaps that is why the impassive shopmen are so impassive4 ,,vi ,,with ,,death ,,beside ,,her 8,go-han wa skoshi mo arimasen0 78,not another grain of rice1 not a grain074 ,and ,o ,matsu sat back on her heels1 the lid of the wooden rice saucepan clutched in her hand4 8,skoshi mo arimasen40 ,and the grey head1 with its cropped hair gathered into a slide behind1 bent despairingly over the saucepan4 ,the ,o hachi was quite empty1 ,o ,matsu had eaten the last grain yesterday2 she knew that quite well1 but the trembling old fingers went on feeling round and round the bare sides of the saucepan1 for she was very hungry4 ,all through the long months of the rice famine ,o ,matsu had managed somehow4 ,to-day the empty ,o hachi lay on the ground while ,o ,matsu sat staring slowly into it4 ,then ,death stared back at her1 and she knew it4 ,with a trembling little movement she got on to her feet and moved across the matted floor into the zashki4 ,the sun was shining on the rice-paper panes of the shji1 and she pushed them back and stood out on the little platform of polished wood1 trying to warm herself2 but the piercing winter wind made her blackened teeth chatter1 and she came in again4 ,in the hibachi the grey ashes were dead and cold1 the last stick of charcoal had boiled the water for her tea last night4 ,there was neither fire nor food4 ,o ,matsu stood still watching1 while ,death and his ,shadow grew1 as a ghost in the twilight4 ,slowly the familiar walls1 the matted floor1 the half-opened shji insisted that the house was yet unswept1 the first duty of a housewife still undone2 and with a painful effort ,o ,matsu went and fetched the bamboo broom that swept the matting1 and the damp cloth to polish the platform4 ,the broom felt heavy to the weak old hands1 and the task of polishing the platform almost beyond her strength2 so she worked on slowly1 stopping often1 for hunger made her faint1 but always going on again4 ,at last1 zashki and platform finished1 she crept back into the kitchen1 longing to rest4 ,the empty ,o hachi lay on the floor4 ,she made a great effort1 and1 picking it up1 carried it outside to scrub1 for cleanliness is a supreme duty in ,japan4 ,when she came back she put the freshly scrubbed ,o hachi in its place4 ,then she sat down4 ,there was nothing more to do4 ,the house was as clean as a house could be4 ,o ,matsu was inexpressibly weary1 and the desire for food was almost beyond control4 ,instinctively she wandered back to the empty ,o hachi and took off the lid4 ,the copper bands1 dim and splashed with the washing1 caught her eye4 ,it seemed to her the hardest thing of all her life to go and fetch her little cloth and sit down to polish them1 but she did it4 ,and ,death and his ,shadow sat down at her side4 ,somehow as she rubbed1 two tears gathered in the dim old eyes1 and rolled down the withered cheeks4 ,o ,matsu dropped the cloth1 and holding the long sleeve of her kimono before her face1 sat still and wept4 ,there is nothing in all the world so lonely as a ,japanese woman without husband or children4 ,she has no claim on her own family1 and little on her husband's2 and in a land where the children1 once grown up1 provide for their parents1 what can a childless widowed old woman do8 99 99 99 99 99 ,the sun moved round the house1 and ,o ,matsu still sat in her kitchen rubbing softly at the copper bands of the saucepan4 ,and death1 in infinite pity1 laid his hand upon her head1 and his ,shadow vanished4 8,o meshi wa skoshi mo arimasen10 she said4 ,and the shaven old eyebrows puckered themselves together4 8,skoshi mo arimasen40 ,and the bent little figure went on rubbing4 ,when the policeman came in the grey dawn of the morning1 surprised that the amado were not drawn1 he found ,o ,matsu1 the polished copper bands of the ,o hachi glittering in her lap--quite dead4 ,,vii ,,kyoto',s ,,soir,e ,midnight and yet as hot as mid-day4 ,over our heads the velvet darkness lay as a visible lid above the streets1 warm and still4 ,not a breath of air was stirring from one end of ,kyoto to the other2 the city seemed a vast dark house with all its windows shut4 ,only the rapid running of the kurumaya produced the slightest breeze1 and that was but the fanning of a heated ballroom2 and when it stopped the hot still air settled down hotter1 stiller1 than before4 ,we had reached the bank of the river1 the bridge and ,theatre ,street lay beyond2 and1 as suddenly as one opens a door in a dark passage1 we were there1 inside1 in the press and the noise1 the lights and the crowd of ,kyoto's nightly soire4 ,restaurants and hairpin stalls1 geisha booths and theatres1 the interesting show of the two-headed fish1 or the tragic story of the ,forty-seven ,rnin1 embroideries1 and bru1 jugglers and phonographs1 cheap stalls for the sale of shaved ice and sugar syrup1 elegant restaurants with fish dinners2 dancing-booths at two sen a head1 where white-painted geisha girls continually sang four notes and assumed four postures1 and sang the same four notes and repeated the same four postures to a tightly packed audience sitting on its heels1 silent but appreciative2 and all1 restaurants1 booths1 theatres1 stalls1 blazed with lights and posters1 deafened with the banging of big drums and the invitations of the proprietors1 reeked with the smell of burning tallow1 the fragrance of boiling tea1 the scent of crushed geranium1 the odour of an eastern summer's night and of the press of clean-washed1 hot humanity4 ,along the street1 inside the stalls and out1 the crowd was dense1 cheerful1 polite and contented4 ,there was no pushing1 no ill-humour1 no fights1 no drunkenness1 nor one policeman4 ,the people of ,kyoto were enjoying themselves like well-bred guests in a ballroom1 with the courtesy of self-control1 and the self-abandoned pleasure of a child4 ,the road with its shifting crowd1 and the two long lines of brightly lighted buildings1 covered with paper lanterns and cotton banners on bamboo poles1 looked more like a 8set0 in a theatre than real houses in an out-of-doors street4 ,not a candle-flame quivered1 not a banner stirred1 and the long perspective of the arched bridge was still as a painted background4 ,down in the river1 in the actual bed of the stream1 were more lights1 whole crowded restaurants afloat4 ,sitting on the tops of tables1 whose four legs driven down into the sand brought them within six inches of the water1 supper parties innumerable ate and talked2 while the children1 slipping off their gheta1 paddled their feet in the stream4 ,even the little waitresses1 as they ran from customer to customer1 would leave the long polished gangways that led from tea-house to table1 and take the shorter way through the water4 ,every one was eating1 and every one was happy--shaved ice with sugar syrup1 at two sen a glass1 or dishes of brown eels and rice at two yen1 gratuitous tea or bru in thirty-sen bottles4 ,and with the summer night above1 the water all around1 the hundreds and hundreds of little tables floated on the water bright with kimono and lanterns4 ,the broad shallow backwater either side the bridge was full of them1 and the gentle rushing of the actual river beyond the circle of bright light lent a sense of freshness to the shadows that they did not in themselves possess4 ,up on the bridge the crowd grew thicker1 ,theatre ,street more full2 the hairpin stalls were surrounded with women and little girls1 buying long hairpins carved at the end1 or ornamented with silk lanterns or flowers1 or ingenious designs of tortoises made of shells1 with legs that quivered realistically4 ,and the velvet blackness lying above the streets and beyond the river was warm to feel4 ,suddenly1 as when one throws a stone into the water1 the crowd surged forwards1 then rippled slowly back2 half a dozen white-uniformed policemen1 with the distinctive1 distinguished face of the samurai1 were coming over the bridge1 driving the people before them1 back and back4 ,the confused noise of indistinct shouting filled the air4 ,suddenly on to the bridge came running in a sort of jog-trot a crowd of bareheaded men1 their short white tunics hardly reaching to the thigh and their brown legs naked beneath1 all tugging and straining at a huge unwieldy car1 which moved in jerks on its wheels of solid wood4 ,on each side ran bands of men brandishing flaming torches in their hands1 while priests in gorgeous apparel came behind4 ,and priests and people1 torch-bearers and car-pullers1 were chanting as they ran1 a fierce1 wild cry1 which went on and on4 ,the car-pullers swayed from side to side1 tossing their hands above their heads1 the torch-bearers rocked1 sending great flaming fragments among the crowd1 and we all stood pressed together1 shrinking back from the burning torches1 and the feet of the car-pullers1 singed here1 trampled there1 in one sweating mass of hot humanity4 ,in the middle of the bridge the car stood still4 ,the men in white tunics moved restlessly on their feet1 straining at the cords2 the torch-bearers chanted louder1 tossing their torches in the air2 the priests hurried to the front1 and stood gesticulating while the wild1 monotonous cry1 gathering fierceness and frenzy from its very monotony1 thundered and roared4 ,then with a sudden swirl the car turned round1 and torch-bearers1 car-pullers and priests were rushing back again to the same fierce wild cry1 the same frenzied swaying of the bodies1 and the same mad tossing of the arms4 ,the sacred procession had come1 was gone4 ,slowly the crowd rippled back1 on over the bridge1 back down the street1 the policemen disappeared1 the drums of the geisha booths and the invitations of the stall-owners rang out again4 ,down on the surface of the river the floating tables grew fuller and fuller4 ,kyoto's nightly soire was at its height4 ,,viii ,n ,a room whose sloping floor is cut into chess-board squares2 each square flat and matted1 so that the back is twelve inches high and level with the front of the square above2 a bare still wooden room long and crowded4 ,each matted square thick with kneeling men and women1 the long-headed aquiline faces of the nobles and the samurai4 ,at the end a platform with an opening vaguely leading from it4 ,no scenery1 no footlights1 no curtain4 ,it is the theatre for the performance of the ,n4 ,those sacred old world plays written many hundred years ago1 acted by samurai for samurai1 the religious mysteries and moralities of ,japan4 ,in the ,west the theatre long ago shook off1 escaped1 forgot the ,church4 ,here the elder child1 the mother rather1 still lives by the side of her offspring1 and lives unchanged4 ,the ,n to-day is as the ,n of five hundred years ago1 the ,n which grew out of the sacred dances of an immemorable antiquity4 ,like the drama of the ,greeks it has its choruses1 its chants1 its unities1 its one or two actors masked1 richly dressed1 impressive1 who move with a religious solemnity1 and speak as voices1 not as men4 ,its plays1 too1 are drawn from sacred legend1 from the mythology of ,shint deities1 from the mysteries of the ,buddhist faith1 and from the fairy tales of the race4 ,over it all there is a glamour as of a stolen glimpse into the buried past4 ,to-day its language is archaic1 but preserved by constant repetition1 handed down from father to son in the families of nobles who1 since ,n first began1 have played in ,n1 it remains the language and the speech of those dead ,japanese1 who towards the fourteenth century organised the ,n4 ,the chant is strange and piercing1 its very notes and phrases are outside of all that we consider music1 as unfamiliar as the speech of insects1 or the song of the remotest fathers of mankind4 ,it echoes like a voice from out the long dead worlds1 piercing yet remote1 and the tink of pipes dies out4 ,there falls a stillness in the room4 ,it is the afternoon of the last day of the ,iidamachi ,n4 ,as in the theatres of ,greece the plays1 each of which lasts about two hours1 are given one after another throughout the whole day1 while between them comes the ,kiogen 7mad words71 or folies dramatiques1 farce-like1 ,greek-like comedies1 shorter even than the ,n4 ,many of the spectators have been here since the morning1 and on the matting of the shallow square boxes are lacquered trays of food1 on all teapots and tobacco-stands2 others come to see a special play or so and go away again2 but to one and all it is not an amusement1 it is a study1 a homage paid to the past1 a rite4 ,as the first notes of the strange piercing chant wail down the room1 the pipes and cigarettes go out1 the tiny tea-bowls are set down1 and a silence falls4 ,the actors1 in their rich brocaded robes of a make and texture of a long dead past1 come slowly through the passage-way on to the platform4 ,their masks are made of lacquer1 and they speak in a slow nasal deep voice that seems to come from the very back of their throats4 ,they speak with every muscle strained and taut4 ,it sounds almost as outside of speech as the chant is outside of music1 and they move in strange long strides4 ,such movements are not merely for artistic effect1 nor to mark agitation1 or to reproduce nature2 they are often used to mark the passing of a period of time4 ,for all its stiffness and its rigour1 its archaic make-believes1 its unnatural realities1 there is an intensity and a thrill in it as of a living thing that matters4 ,the strange music of the tambourine-like instruments1 the thin wailing of the bamboo flute1 the beating of the one small drum1 shaped like an hour-glass with three supporting pillars1 breaks in again and again upon the intoned speech of the actors with its repeated irregular cadences in notes outside of speech4 ,and the long-robed figures1 masked and rigid1 stalk slowly across the stage2 and the chant of the chorus1 as in the plays of ,greece1 explains1 comments1 describes the action4 ,it is the story of the fisherman who found an angel's robe of feathers on a tree1 and would not give it back though the angel begged and begged4 ,without it she cannot reach her home in the blue of the heavens above1 and for a heavenly spirit to stay for long on earth means death4 ,already the chorus is chanting her dirge when the fisherman1 seeing her beauty fading and her life ebbing fast1 relents4 ,he will give back the robe if she will dance for him4 ,she promises1 but implores first her robe that the dance may be more perfect4 ,the fisherman fears she will deceive him and fly back to heaven at once4 ,but the spirit turns upon him4 8,fie on thee1 fisherman10 she cries1 8deception was born of man2 the high heavens know not of it40 ,and1 touched1 he gives back the robe4 ,she dances1 while the chorus sings the beauties of the landscape1 of ,japan4 ,how 8,heaven has its joys1 but there is beauty here1 ,here ,where the moon in bright unclouded glory ,shines on ,kigomi's lea4 ,and where on ,fujiyama's summit hoary ,the snows look on the sea40 ,even the angel would stay awhile in a land so beautiful4 8,blow1 blow ye winds that the white cloud-belt driven ,around my path may bar my homeward way1 ,not yet would ,i return to ,heaven40 ,and still the angel dances1 and the vision of ,heaven descends upon earth4 ,she sings1 8,and from the cloudy spheres1 ,chiming in unison the angels' lutes1 ,tabrets and cymbals1 and sweet silv'ry flutes ,ring through the heav'n that glows with purple hues40 ,then the voices fall away4 ,and to the strange1 tuneless music1 whose notes are not our notes1 the spirit dances on1 round and round in gliding circles1 with the slow1 smooth movements of the sacred ,kagura4 8,fragrant and fair--too fair for mortal eyes40 ,the chorus sings again4 ,and gliding round and round in circles ever smoother1 ever slower1 the spirit passes from the platform and up the vague passage-way that leads to the green-room beyond4 ,the fisherman starts4 ,the play is ended4 ,in long1 stiff strides1 so slow1 so slow1 that an appreciable space of time seems set around the movement of each muscle1 the actor goes across the stage1 up the vague passage-way1 into the room beyond4 ,it is five minutes before the last slow solemn stride takes him beyond our sight4 ,then hour-glass drum1 the flute1 the two tambourine-like instruments that wail1 shake out their last weird tuneless tune4 ,the chant of the chorus ends on a note that to us is a middle--and stops4 ,my ears still wait the end of the phrase when the hush of intense silence dissolves4 ,there is a rustle in each square shallow box1 a lighting of tiny bronze pipes and cigarettes1 a filling of tea-cups1 a tapping of chopsticks4 ,the ,n is over4 ,,note4--,in quoting from this ,n1 8,the ,robe of ,feathers10 ,i have followed ,mr4 ,b4 ,h4 ,chamberlain's translation in 8,the ,classical ,poetry of the ,japanese40 ,,ix ,a ,,japanese ,,bank-,,holiday ,the bulletins grew longer1 and all the world waited and watched4 ,the ,japanese papers were full of minute descriptions and hopeful prognostications4 ,the cherry-trees were doing well2 they were expected to bloom next week4 ,then came a cold wind and rain2 8for flowers10 as the proverb says1 8bring showers40 ,and the bulletins became paragraphs4 ,but the sky grew blue again1 and even the foreign papers broke through their ,western disdain1 and announced that 8,marquis ,it had gone to ,kyoto to see the cherry-trees40 ,imagine the ,times gravely recording amongst its official intelligence that 8,mr4 ,balfour had gone to ,devonshire 7not a third of the journey7 to see the apple-blossoms06 ,but the ,japanese are1 of course1 uncivilised6 ,on ,easter ,monday the trees were out1 and all the world with them4 ,the two long miles of river-bank at ,mukojima were crowded4 ,the river itself was thick with sampan4 ,and still all ,tokyo pours itself out over the bridges1 across the canals1 out under the long double line of cherry-trees4 ,the chrysanthemum may well be the ,imperial crest2 the cherry-tree is the national emblem1 and its flowering a national fte--a ,japanese ,bank ,holiday1 with ,mukojima for its ,hampstead ,heath4 ,the two long miles of raised bank is a sea of heads1 a second black river set between pale pink banks2 and it washes slowly1 undisturbedly onwards4 ,nobody pushes1 nobody shouts1 nobody calls rude remarks4 ,and the blue-tuniced coolies1 like ,florentine noblemen out at elbows1 with the work-a-day blue towel round their heads replaced by a pink one1 the very shade of the cherry-blossoms above1 say polite 8,go men nasai0 78,i beg your honourable pardon07 if in looking upwards they stumble against each other4 ,the kurumaya has drawn his wife and children to ,mukojima1 and they wander slowly under the trees1 the little ones in their gay-coloured kimono1 covered with the largest of large flowers4 ,even the little tonsured babies blink up at the pink wonder overhead from the warm pouch on their mother's backs4 ,and the old grandmothers1 with their cropped grey heads and shaven eyebrows1 tell how the cherry-trees were much finer when they were young4 ,the little girls1 with their hair oiled into lengths of black ribbons and tied in loops on the top of their heads2 the young wife1 with the wonderful whorls of the married woman's coiffure2 the bare-legged1 blue-knickerbockered 'ricksha man2 the schoolboys1 with their striped cotton hakama2 the fathers1 in their grey kimono--all the working world1 all the people are here4 ,below the level of the bank1 raised high here1 for the ,sumidagawa1 like all the rivers of ,japan1 is fierce in its floods1 and set thick together1 are the chaya4 ,these range from the humblest little roofed shed1 with its broad1 low tables1 like a series of large trays on dwarf legs1 covered with coarse red blankets1 to the superb tea-houses with their snow-white matted rooms1 their painted shji4 ,and they are all full4 ,the kurumaya drinks his bowl of pale green tea1 sitting on his heels on the red blanket4 ,the little wife tries the immensely popular drink of ramun 7lemonade7 out of a doll's tumbler4 ,the coolie1 with his festive pink towel1 pours warm sak from slim china vases into tiny china bowls1 and the smile on his broad1 bullet-headed face grows broader4 ,for the sak drinker1 unlike ,western drunkards1 only becomes politer and politer1 until the ,japanese smile of courtesy broadens into a large1 fixed1 unending1 amiable grin1 and the sak drunkard goes politely1 though stumblingly1 home to sleep4 ,but of even sak drunkenness there is little1 for the most part o cha 7honourable tea7 and o kashi 7honourable cakes7 content these uncivilised ,bank ,holiday-makers1 who have come out to see--just the pink cherry-blossoms against the blue sky4 ,and will go home again--content4 ,on the river the red towels are perhaps more numerous1 for all the fishermen1 all the dock labourers1 the whole riverside population of ,tokyo have come in their sampan to ,mukojima4 ,and they float past now1 little and big1 crowded with blue tunics or grey kimono4 ,some with an awning of paper lanterns1 and all gay with flags and banners4 ,and full as the river is with boats1 and jammed together as they are under the bank1 nobody shouts1 nobody quarrels1 nobody swears4 ,a garden party at ,windsor ,castle might be better dressed1 it could hardly be better behaved4 ,nor in the whole length of those two miles of crowded bank1 with the line of sampan on one side and the line of public-houses on the other--sampan1 avenue1 inns1 all full to overflowing--are there three policemen4 ,more1 the trees1 with their exquisite cloud of pink flowers1 are within easy reach of a man's arm1 and nobody breaks them4 ,the municipality of ,tokyo has not even considered it necessary to affix a notice regarding the penalty for damaging trees4 ,i should doubt if it had even thought to invent one4 ,and yet the blossoms are beautiful enough to make a man's heart long to possess them4 8,a little pink cloud of the sunset has caught in the bare branches of the cherry-tree40 ,and not all ,western imagery can surpass the simile1 for the pink is the pink of a cloud at sunset1 and soft as the softest mist4 ,when the wind stirs the trees1 the blue sky seems scattering pink snowflakes to the ground4 8,what is the soul of ,japan80 asked the poet4 8,it is the mountain cherry-tree in the morning sun40 ,but a soul so simple1 the civilised nations1 of course1 disdain6 ,x ,,the ,,palace ,,of ,,the ,,son ,,of ,,heaven ,kyoto is a city of immense distances where the brown earth streets1 set in between their rows of low brown houses1 run on interminably4 ,even under the weltering summer sky the streets are full2 for ,kyoto1 the once-time capital1 is still the second city of the ,empire1 and the art centre of ,japan4 ,my kurumaya scatters men and children as he runs2 and the sounds of busy bargaining1 the inevitable takai 7too much71 following the ikura des ka 7how much87 pursue me as ,i ride4 ,at each corner two more streets stretch out1 as straight as interminable1 as full of life4 ,and still my kurumaya runs4 ,i am going to see the ,emperor's ,palace4 ,through many hundred years1 through most that is history in ,japan1 the ,son of ,heaven dwelt in the heart of this city1 and these long interminable streets so full of life stretched all around him4 ,the ,tenshisama lived in the midst of his people1 and neither saw nor heard4 ,we have left the streets at last2 on either hand stand railed-in squares of growing trees2 the road is wide and smooth1 the busy thousands in the streets drop out of sight and sound4 ,my kurumaya runs more swiftly4 ,here is neither shop nor house1 nor passer-by1 the restless hum of life itself has ceased4 ,it is quieter than a forest1 for in these artificial squares of railed-in trees nothing stirs4 ,men's gardens are always three parts dead4 ,the broad road widens still2 white as fuller's earth and hard1 it stretches like an avenue between high walls of smooth white brick1 laid flat and thin as ,roman tiles1 on thick layers of pale white mortar4 ,two carefully paved-in streams of fresh grey water run between wall and road4 ,and streams and road and walls go on and on4 ,it is the ,palace of the ,heir ,apparent4 ,the walls are twelve feet high1 the stream is three feet wide2 and still my kurumaya runs4 ,the pale white walls stretch down the road like parallels in ,euclid4 ,it is the ,palace of the ,princes of the ,blood4 ,and still he runs4 ,the pale white walls1 thin tiles set in their thick layers of mortar1 run as he runs4 ,i have lost sense of the city now1 lost memory of the gardens1 lost belief in life itself4 ,the world is a dead white road between white walls4 ,this is the ,palace of the ,son of ,heaven1 one speck of brown breaks the interminable line of white1 the carved gateway whence the great ,tenshisama issued once a year to visit the temple4 ,one other speck1 the gate by which he returned4 ,and then the pale white walls1 thin tiles set in thick layers of mortar1 stretch out of sight4 ,inside these miles of walls1 in his artificial solitude1 year in1 year out1 the ,son of ,heaven dwelt4 ,the life of the city1 surging through its streets1 surged up in vain2 he could not see it1 hear it1 nor conceive it4 ,lord of a world he did not know1 the ,son of ,heaven lived1 while all around the sons of earth fought and toiled1 were born and died1 and not a murmur of their being passed his ,palace walls4 ,shut up in his rose-garden world1 fictitious1 quite unreal1 the ,son of ,heaven augustly ruled4 ,and while the thousands in the city and the millions in the land held him divine1 so that whoso looked upon his face did surely die1 the men who looked usurped his power1 crowned or deposed him2 ruled in his name1 but reigned supreme1 and fought to reign4 ,the history of ,japan lies there4 ,war and worship1 divine unquestioned right and civil strife1 never rebellion1 each army fighting in the name of the ever-sacred ,son of ,heaven1 to use victory for its own ends4 ,and the living son of these dead ,emperors1 brought up as they1 ,son of ,heaven still1 though without the walls1 a modern monarch holding levees and cabinet councils1 does that fictitious rose-garden world lie about him yet shutting out the real8 99 99 99 99 99 8,and always in ,japan10 says my kurumaya1 8the ,son of ,heaven augustly rules40 ,and he sings3 8,kimi ga yo wa ,chiyo ni yachiyo ni ,sazar ishi no ,iwaho to narit ,kok no musu mad40 8,the descendants of the ,emperor shall live for a thousand times ten thousand years1 until the little stones are grown great rocks1 until the great rocks are all green with moss40 ,,xi ,,and ,,she ,,was ,a ,,widow ,o ,mm ,san looked into her son's eyes and saw that they were sad4 ,it was in the month of the plum-blossom1 when throughout the length and breadth of ,japan the soldiers of the ,empire were daily leaving for the front2 for the war with ,russia had been declared1 and the rich were giving of their wealth1 the poor of their poverty1 and every one of his sons4 ,in ,tokyo the rival newspapers had agreed to bury their political differences until the war was over4 ,an ,osaka merchant had offered his priceless art treasures for sale4 ,on the western coast the poor fishermen1 forbidden to fish in the sea of ,japan because of the danger1 sent a petition to the ,government asking to be allowed to go out 8as scouts40 ,noble students on the far-off banks of the ,sungari were risking an ignominious death as they crouched beneath dark bridges with dynamite in their hands4 ,everywhere1 every one was giving1 giving1 giving4 ,even in this remote country town each day mothers saw their sons march away1 and bid them a last 8,sayonara40 ,o ,mm ,san had been waiting many days1 expecting1 hoping1 dreading1 and to-night in the sad eyes of her son she read the long delayed summons4 8,he has heard at last10 she thought4 ,and for one moment her heart grew very tender over this1 her fatherless son1 her only boy4 ,then she put away her weakness1 for she was the wife and the daughter of samurai1 and she knew that it was the proudest privilege of a warrior to fight for his lord1 that it was the most sacred duty of her race to give her life and her son's life to the ,emperor4 ,so1 looking towards the curved swords of the family1 which lay on the tokonoma1 she began to talk of her husband1 of the grim old samurai his fathers1 and to tell old tales of battle and of death that made her boy's eyes glisten1 and then look sadder than before4 ,but he said nothing1 and ,o ,mm ,san wondered4 ,she knew that he had been down to the ,prefecture that morning4 ,o ,kiku ,san's two sons had left last week1 ,o ,hana's eldest was going to-morrow4 ,surely her boy must know when he was leaving1 or why did his eyes look so sad8 ,then she began to tell him of all the plans she had thought of for managing without him1 for they were poor4 ,and at last her son looked up1 and said1 very gently as he took her hand3 8,honourably trouble not2 as for leaving1 it is not for me40 ,and this time it was ,o ,mm ,san's turn to be silent4 ,when dinner was over her son went out to his work1 and ,o ,mm ,san wondered and wondered4 ,the wife and daughter of a samurai she was eager to give1 give even her only son for ,dai ,nippon1 and the ,son of ,heaven4 ,and yet her boy was not going1 what could it mean8 ,it was ,o ,hana ,san who brought the answer4 ,o ,hana came in1 very proud and pleased to tell all the last news about her eldest and his regiment4 8,they say these ,russians are seven feet high10 she said1 as they sat opposite one another on the kneeling cushions sipping tea1 8and that they never wash4 ,and1 just think1 over there in ,ch-sen 7,korea7 everything is still frozen40 ,o ,mm ,san listened4 8,a warrior is always warm enough when he fights10 she said1 looking at the long curved swords which lay on the tokonoma4 ,o ,hana ,san followed her glance4 ,there were no swords at home on her tokonoma4 8,oh6 fighting's very different nowadays10 she said4 8,my boy hasn't got a sword at all4 ,they only carry guns now40 ,for ,o ,hana was not above a certain feeling of pleasure at getting even with a samurai4 ,o ,mm ,san bowed1 and gently offered more tea4 8,that is the ,emperor's will10 she said1 in her soft1 low voice4 8,my son will also carry a gun40 8,but your son isn't going10 cried ,o ,hana ,san4 8,didn't you know8 ,the ,prefect said yesterday something about the law of the ,emperor forbidding it4 ,i forget why40 ,and she gave a little giggle of pride at the idea of her son going to the war when the son of a samurai must stay at home4 ,o ,mm ,san's hands trembled as she poured more tea into the tiny bowls1 but her voice was as low and as gentle as ever1 and she did not abate one bow or one word of politeness2 but how glad she was when ,o ,hana was gone6 ,she sat back on her heels after her last bow1 her face flushed with anger4 ,the ,emperor would not take her son6 ,o ,hana must be mistaken4 ,it could not be true4 ,but 8the ,prefect said40 ,then she would go and ask the ,prefect4 ,and ,o ,mm ,san got up resolute4 ,the ,prefect was very busy1 and refused at first to see her1 but1 with the softest and gentlest politeness1 ,o ,mm ,san still persisted1 and at last she was admitted into the ugly 8foreign0 room where the ,prefect1 in a frock-coat and tweed trousers1 sat on a 8foreign0 chair4 ,o ,mm ,san sat on the edge of hers and held her kimono tightly with both hands4 ,she was not used to chairs4 8,you wish to know when ,suzuki ,tetsutar leaves for the front4 ,honourably please to wait a moment40 ,o ,mm ,san waited4 ,the ,prefect1 deep in his work1 almost forgot her4 ,something in the tremulous way in which she had spoken made him think she was afraid for her boy2 and he was a stern man1 with the sternest ideas of duty to the ,emperor4 ,so when the answer came back to him1 he turned to her somewhat coldly4 8,suzuki ,tetsutar is exempt from service4 ,it is the will of the ,emperor that the only son of a widow shall stay and take care of his mother40 ,a great light sprang into ,o ,mm ,san's eyes4 8,honourably please to say is that the reason80 she asked1 bowing low4 ,the ,prefect looked at her1 at the strange light shining in her eyes2 and in his heart he regretted the old stern times when samurai mothers sent out their sons to fight to victory or to death4 8,that is the reason10 he said1 and he bowed her out4 99 99 99 99 99 ,that night ,o ,mm ,san did not sleep4 ,she sat up looking at the curved swords of her fathers and thinking4 ,she knew now why her son's eyes were sad4 ,the ,son of ,heaven1 in his graciousness1 had wished to spare the widow's son1 but--but a subject's duty was to give1 give all1 give himself1 give everything that was most precious to him2 above all1 a samurai boy must not stay at home when peasants' sons went out to fight4 ,and in the quiet night1 with the blossoming plum-tree stretching like a white wing above the house1 ,mm thought4 ,this gentle1 soft-voiced woman1 tender as the white blossoms overhead from which she took her name1 was delicate as they2 but in her soul there dwelt that subtle1 untouched fragrance1 the sense1 of sacrifice and duty1 which1 like the scent of the blossoming plum-tree1 penetrated all things4 ,brought up on the 8greater0 and 8the lesser learning10 in the strict rule of the three obediences--to father1 husband1 son--,o ,mm ,san had lived her simple life1 a loving1 tender woman1 exquisite in grace and courtesy2 but in her heart there burned that ecstatic faith and fealty which we have never truly known1 but call by the cold name of loyalty4 ,so she sat there and thought in the still1 dark night1 and all the thoughts and feelings of the dead1 all their resolutions and impulses1 stirred back to life in her all the long line of her samurai fathers1 who had fought and died1 the yet longer line of patient mothers1 who had endured and given their sons1 husbands1 fathers1 called to her4 ,they were not dead nor sleeping4 ,they were alive in her4 ,she sat and listened as their lives thrilled through her in the silence1 and their voices spoke aloud within her soul4 ,it seemed a simple thing to sacrifice herself4 ,she had no fear of death1 rather a great desire4 ,no haunting fear of ,purgatory or ,hell beset her4 ,even the all-loving ,buddha was forgotten2 she trusted to the older gods to-night--,amaterasu1 the great ,sun-,goddess1 from whom the ,son of ,heaven himself descended4 ,beyond the shadow of this life the great gods lived1 and all the long line of her fathers stood waiting to welcome her4 ,when she slipped into that light her son's father himself would stoop to take her hand1 content that she had proved herself worthy to be a warrior's wife4 ,the snow-white mm1 the blossoming plum-tree1 stirred in the cold night wind4 8,chastity1 purity and strength1 womanly strength10 it whispered1 and its pale soft blossoms sighed4 ,the fragrance of them floated by in the chill spring air2 floated wide from end to end of ,great ,japan4 8,strength1 womanly strength10 it said1 and ,o ,mm ,san looked up and smiled1 a little sad1 sweet smile4 ,for the strength of a woman lies in the sacrifice of herself4 ,and getting up she went to look at her boy tossing in his sleep4 ,then she too slept1 for she knew what she had to do2 and ,shinigawa1 the ,lord of ,death-,desire1 drew near and touched her as she slept4 99 99 99 99 99 ,it was nearly dusk the next evening before everything was prepared4 ,all her son's clothes mended and ready1 the house put straight1 the letter written1 telling her boy quite simply that1 having learned the reason why the ,emperor in his graciousness would not take him for his soldier1 she had taken her own life that he might be free to fight4 ,on her knees she thanked the gracious ,tenshisama1 but her son and her son's life were his not hers4 ,then she sharpened her dagger1 and when ,o ,mm ,san felt its edge was keen enough1 she knelt down on the matting1 took off her long silken under-girdle1 and tied it carefully around her knees1 for a samurai woman must lie modestly even in death4 ,then she felt in her throat for the artery1 and with one quick thrust drove the dagger home4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the ,prefect was sitting with his family that evening when ,suzuki ,tetsutar came to the house4 ,he carried a paper in his hand1 and he was trembling4 8,honourably please to take notice10 he said1 8that ,i am qualified to serve1 for my mother is dead40 ,and he handed the ,prefect the paper4 ,when he had read it the stern official turned to the lad4 8,the detachment has not yet left for headquarters10 he said1 writing rapidly as he spoke4 8,go straight to the station4 ,give this card to the officer in charge4 ,i will bury your mother and perform the rites40 ,then he laid his hand on the boy's shoulder4 8,suzuki ,tetsutar10 he said1 8your mother was worthy of her race4 ,go1 that her spirit may have peace40 ,so ,suzuki ,tetsutar went straight to the front4 ,,glossary ,aino4 ,the aboriginal inhabitants of ,japan1 only found now in the ,north ,island4 ,a remarkably hairy1 remarkably dirty race1 with the flattened shin-bone only occurring in skeletons of the cave-men4 ,they are great hunters and fishers4 ,amado4 ,sliding wooden walls which are drawn all round a ,japanese house at night1 completely enclosing it4 ,amaterasu1 lit4 8,heaven-,shiner40 ,the ,sun-,goddess1 born from the right eye of the ,creator ,izanagi4 ,amida ,butsu4 ,buddha as ,amida4 ,originally ,amida was an abstraction1 the ideal of boundless light4 ,benten4 ,one of the seven ,deities of ,luck1 frequently represented riding on a serpent4 ,her shrines are mostly on islands1 and from her connection with the sea she has certain points of resemblance with ,venus4 ,benten always has a white face4 ,biwa4 ,a musical instrument with four strings1 something like a lute4 ,boy4 ,term universal among foreigners in the ,far ,east for a male servant1 of whatever age4 ,bot'chan4 ,a little boy2 baby2 ,japanese baby language4 ,derived from bsan1 a ,buddhist priest 7bonze74 ,japanese babies1 like ,buddhist priests1 having completely shaven heads4 ,bushi4 ,warrior4 ,bushid4 ,way of the warrior4 ,cha-no-yu4 ,tea ceremony1 from cha1 tea4 ,the people of ,tokyo and the initiated call it chanoy4 ,this ceremony1 religious in its inception1 has in the course of the #fjj or #gjj years of its existence passed through a medico-religious1 a luxurious1 and an sthetic stage4 ,a little of the religious element still clings to it1 tea enthusiasts usually joining the ,zen sect of ,buddhism1 while diplomas of proficiency are obtained from the abbot of ,daitokuji at ,kyoto4 ,cha-ya4 ,tea-house4 ,cloisonn4 ,a species of mosaic1 its characteristic feature being a network of copper1 brass1 or silver wire soldered on to a solid foundation of the same metal4 ,the cloisons1 or spaces between the network1 are then filled in with enamel paste4 ,daimy1 lit4 ,great name2 a feudal lord4 ,before the ,restoration of #ahfh ,japan was divided into provinces1 each ruled by a daimy4 ,every daimy was the head of a clan of armed retainers1 the samurai1 and all samurai had to belong to some daimy4 ,shortly after the ,restoration the daimy voluntarily gave up their lands1 powers1 and possessions to the ,emperor4 ,fuji4 ,usually translated as 8,the ,peerless ,mountain10 from the two ,chinese characters with which1 in poetry1 it is usually written1 meaning 8not two10 8unrivalled40 ,in prose it is generally written with ,chinese characters meaning 8rich samurai40 ,it can also be written with ideographs meaning 8not dying0 and so 8deathless40 ,most probably ,fuji is derived from the ,aino word push1 to burst forth4 ,futon4 ,a sort of eiderdown quilt made of silk wadding4 ,the ,japanese spread one of these on the matting at night to sleep on1 using a second as a covering4 ,the native pillow is a shaped and padded piece of wood or lacquer which supports the neck4 ,geisha4 ,girls trained to the profession of dancing1 singing1 playing1 and socially entertaining4 ,they are the usual accompaniment to a ,japanese dinner4 ,gheta4 ,a sort of wooden clogs kept on by straps passing between the big and second toes4 ,gheta are only worn in the street1 and are left outside houses1 temples1 or other buildings4 ,it would be as disrespectful to enter a house or a temple with your gheta on as for a man to walk into a church1 or a drawing-room1 in his hat4 ,godown4 ,a fire-proof building for storing valuables4 ,derived from ,malay word gdong1 a warehouse4 ,hakama4 ,a divided skirt of either cotton or silk1 pleated into a broad stiff band in big pleats4 ,worn by the samurai on official or ceremonial occasions4 ,always worn by both teacher and pupil in the classrooms4 ,also worn nowadays by the girl students4 ,hibachi4 ,a brazier in the shape of a lidless box of wood or bronze containing charcoal1 the warming apparatus of ,japanese houses4 ,holland4 ,considered as a tributary kingdom of ,japan during the ,tokugawa shgunate1 because the ,dutch shut up in the island of ,deshima1 near ,nagasaki1 sent yearly presents to the shgun4 ,ijin ,san4 ,barbarian2 foreigner2 or perhaps simply 8strange man10 and so foreigner4 ,iyeyasu4 ,b4 #aedb1 d4 #afaf4 ,the founder of the ,tokugawa shgunate1 which lasted from #afjc to #ahfh4 ,iyeyasu was one of the greatest generals and perhaps the very greatest ruler1 ,japan has ever produced4 ,he went to school in the ,temple of ,rinzaki 7p4 #ag71 and the room where he learnt to write1 his ink-slab and other belongings1 are still preserved4 ,iyeyasu founded ,yedo1 now ,tokyo1 making it his capital4 ,he died at ,shizuoka1 and was first buried at ,kun-san 7,between ,earth and ,heaven1 p4 #cf71 and afterwards at ,nikk4 ,izanagi and ,izanami4 ,the ,creator and the ,creatress of ,japan4 ,it was during the purification of ,izanagi after his descent into ,hades in search of ,izanami1 a legend which has many points of resemblance with that of ,orpheus1 that ,amaterasu1 the ,sun-,goddess1 was born4 ,jinricksha or ,jinriksha4 ,from the ,chinese1 lit4 man-power-vehicle2 shortened by ,europeans into 'ricksha1 by the ,japanese to jinriki1 but usually called in ,japan by the native word kuruma4 ,a small two-wheeled carriage like a miniature hansom or an old-fashioned perambulator1 drawn by a man4 ,kagura4 ,sacred shint dance1 whose origin is supposed to be traced back to the time when ,amaterasu1 angry at the insult offered her by her brother ,susa-no-wo1 retired to a cavern1 thus plunging the world into darkness4 ,she was at last induced to look out by the sound of music and dancing1 and finally enticed right out by the sight of her own face in a mirror4 ,the dance performed in front of her cavern is supposed to be the ,kagura4 7,note the 8g0 here1 as all medial 8g's0 in ,japanese have the sound of 8ng0 as in ,english 8sing40 ,so ,nang-o-ya1 not ,na-go-ya4 ,some dialects1 as that of ,satsuma1 say a hard 8g407 ,kakemono1 lit4 the hanging-up-thing4 ,a picture painted on either silk or paper1 in either monochrome or colour4 ,it is mounted on brocade1 and has a roller each end4 ,roughly and quite untechnically1 kakemono can be divided into two classes3 those which seek to give only an impression1 and those which are a kind of miniature painting4 ,kana4 ,katakana and ,hirakana1 popularly supposed to have been invented1 the first #ggb ,a4,d41 the second #hce ,a4,d4 ,in reality they were not inventions1 but simplifications of certain common ,chinese ideographs4 ,the kana represent sounds1 as does our alphabet1 but they stand for syllables1 not letters4 ,they both consist of forty-seven sounds1 which by the addition of dots and other symbols can be considerably increased4 ,kannon1 written ,k7w7annon1 ,sanskrit ,avalokites-vara1 the ,goddess of ,mercy1 who contemplates the world and listens to the prayers of the unhappy4 ,in the opinion of a small minority ,kannon belongs to the male sex4 ,kimono4 ,the long-sleeved robe of ,japan1 which has no fastening4 ,it is merely folded across on the right-hand side 7only grave-clothes are crossed to the left7 and kept in place by the folds of the obi4 ,practically the same shaped kimono is worn by men and women1 the difference consisting principally in pattern and colour4 ,the number of kimono worn depends entirely on the temperature4 ,kirin4 ,a fabulous monster answering to our griffin4 ,he degenerates sometimes into a sort of three-cornered dog1 and is said not to trample on live insects nor to eat live grass4 ,kitsune4 ,fox4 ,it is the fox and the badger in ,japan who are credited with supernatural powers4 ,foxes are able to change themselves into beautiful young women to the undoing of confiding man4 ,the powers of the badger may be comic4 ,kojiki1 or 8,record of ,ancient ,matters40 ,the oldest literary work of ,japan1 dating from the year #gab ,a4,d4 ,it is a chronicle partly mythological1 partly historical1 of the doings of gods1 emperors and men4 ,kuruma4 ,see ,jinricksha4 ,the ,japanese term for jinricksha4 ,kurumaya4 ,the man who draws the kuruma4 ,manj4 ,a flat round cake of rice paste filled with a brown bean-jam4 ,meiji4 ,age of ,enlightenment or ,progress4 ,the name of the years from #ahfh onwards4 ,the privilege of appointing year-names is regarded in the ,far ,east as one of the rights of independent sovereignty1 much as coining money with us4 ,in ,japan the length of the year-name period has been up to now purely arbitrary1 not coinciding with the reign of an emperor as in ,china4 ,miyajima4 ,one of the ,san-kei or 8,three ,chief ,sights0 of ,japan4 ,an exceedingly beautiful island in the ,inland ,sea4 ,it contains a temple built on piles1 which at high tide seems to float on the water4 ,according to tradition1 the first temple was erected about #fjj ,a4,d4 ,mma4 ,the actual pronunciation in the ,tokyo district of the word usually ,romanised as ,uma1 horse4 ,mm4 ,the actual pronunciation in the ,tokyo district of the word usually ,romanised as ,um4 ,musm or ,musum4 ,daughter2 girl2 and so1 waiting-girl4 ,namu-myho-rengeky4 ,sanskrit1 lit4 8,o6 the ,scripture of the ,lotus of the ,wonderful ,law40 ,nsan4 lit4 elder sister miss4 ,used as a half-polite1 half-familiar address to girls2 and so1 waiting-girl4 ,nichiren4 ,b4 #abbb1 d4 #abhb1 at ,ikkgami1 where some of his bones remain as relics4 ,he entered the priesthood at the early age of twelve1 when he adopted the name of ,nichiren1 or 8,lotus of the ,sun40 ,he miraculously learned the whole of the #ajj volumes of the ,buddhist canon in one night4 ,he fiercely attacked all the already existing ,buddhist sects1 a thing unheard of in ,japanese ecclesiastical history2 was twice banished1 and once condemned to death1 on which occasion the executioner's sword refused to perform its function4 ,his crest is the orange blossom4 ,o and ,go4 ,polite prefixes usually translated as 8honourable0 or 8august40 ,o ,b ,san1 lit4 honourable grandmother ,mrs4 ,obi4 ,a long sash usually of wadded brocade1 which is folded several times round the waist and tied behind4 ,the obi is the most expensive part of a woman's dress1 and exceptional ones of richest brocade stiffened with gold thread can cost as much as #ej or more2 such obi are handed down in families as heirlooms4 ,o hachi1 lit4 honourable pot4 ,tub in which cooked rice is kept4 ,persimmon4 ,a fruit the size of an apple which can be round and reddish1 or orange and pear-shaped4 ,called in ,japanese kaki4 ,ricksha4 ,see ,jinricksha4 ,rin4 #aj rin make #a sen1 or one farthing4 ,ronin1 lit4 wave-man4 ,samurai without a feudal lord4 ,he might be described as a samurai out of work either through fault or misfortune4 ,sak4 ,an intoxicating drink obtained from fermented rice1 containing #aa to #ad per cent4 of alcohol4 ,it is generally drunk warm and tastes something like sherry4 ,samisen4 ,a square three-stringed lute with a long handle1 played with a plectrum2 the commonest and most popular of the musical instruments of ,japan4 ,its notes are very tinny4 ,in ,tokyo usually called shamisen4 ,sampan4 ,a small flat-bottomed boat1 rowed by a man standing in the stern4 ,samurai4 ,derived from the verb samurau1 to be on guard4 ,a term used in the early ,middle ,ages of the soldiers of the ,mikado's palace1 then applied to the entire warrior class4 ,the samurai were 8the gentry0 of ,japan1 the daimy corresponding to the peers4 ,in ,old ,japan all gentlemen were soldiers and all soldiers gentlemen4 ,since the ,restoration1 when their incomes were commuted for a lump sum1 the samurai have had to earn their own livelihood4 ,they are now the officers1 professors1 schoolmasters1 policemen1 officials1 practically the whole governing class of ,japan4 ,san4 ,contraction of sama4 ,a title such as our ,mr41 but used for both sexes and all ages4 ,semmi4 ,cicada4 ,japan grows innumerable semmi of many kinds4 ,a favourite amusement of boys is to catch them and keep them in small cages of green net4 ,sen4 d4 #ajj sen make #a yen4 ,shappo4 ,from the ,french chapeau4 ,the modern name for the modern 8foreign0 hat4 ,old ,japan knew no hats4 ,shint1 lit4 the way of the gods4 ,this1 the native religion of ,japan1 is a combination of ancestor-and nature-worship4 ,its priesthood is not a caste1 nor even a separate profession4 ,up to the time of the revival of ,shintism1 due to the ,restoration of power to the ,mikado1 everybody was born with ,shint and buried with ,buddhist rites4 ,the whole ,japanese nation is supposed to be descended from the lesser ,shint deities1 while the ,emperor is the direct descendant of ,amaterasu4 ,shgun1 lit4 generalissimo4 ,a title first used in #hac ,a4,d41 and continued down to #ahfh4 ,in the twelfth century the shgun ,yoritomo first contrived to become the effective ruler of the land2 thus originating the dual control of ,japan1 the temporal power belonging to the shgun1 the spiritual to the ,emperor4 ,yoritomo was succeeded by various dynasties of shgun until ,iyeyasu founded the ,tokugawa shgunate in #afjj4 ,shoji4 ,the sliding wall of a house1 like an immense lattice window whose leadings are wood and whose panes are rice-paper1 ,shji are semi-transparent1 and divide the room from the outer world4 ,the walls which divide one room from another are called karakami or fusumi1 and are of opaque paper4 ,they slide in grooves and can be entirely removed when required4 ,susa-no-wo1 lit4 the ,impetuous ,male ,deity1 was born from the nose of the creator ,izanagi4 ,it was owing to the insult which he offered his sister ,amaterasu by breaking a hole in the roof of the hall of heaven where she sat weaving with her celestial maidens1 and dropping down into it 8a heavenly piebald horse flayed with a backward flaying0 that the ,sun-,goddess retired to the cavern and left the world in darkness4 ,susa-no-wo was the ancestor of the rulers of ,izumo1 who finally gave up their throne to the descendants of the ,sun-,goddess1 accepting a spiritual for an earthly homage4 ,susa-no-wo is sometimes considered as the ,god of the ,moon1 sometimes as the ,god of the ,sea4 ,suzuki ,tetsutar4 ,the family name in ,japan always comes first1 the 8,christian0 name after1 as ,smith ,john4 ,suzuki is one of the commonest of ,japanese surnames of samurai rank1 ,hayashi running it very close4 ,tetsutar1 lit4 own eldest son4 ,tabi4 ,half-boots fastening up on the inner1 not the outer1 side1 as with us4 ,they are made of cotton1 and the sole is a soft sock4 ,there is a separate compartment for the big toe4 ,tabi are of either dark blue or white cotton2 white is for house and street wear2 dark blue for hard work or walking1 and mostly worn by the lower classes4 ,tenshisama4 ,chinese term meaning ,son of ,heaven1 from ten1 heaven4 ,sama is the longer and more courteous form of san4 ,the ,emperor is also called ,tenn1 ,heavenly ,emperor1 or ,shuj1 the ,supreme ,master2 all ,chinese terms4 ,the word ,mikado is very rarely used by the ,japanese except in poetry or on great occasions4 ,tfu4 ,a white bean-curd1 looking like cream cheese4 ,a favourite food of the coolie4 ,tokonoma4 ,a raised alcove4 ,probably it was originally that part of a room raised above the level of the earth floor1 on which people slept4 ,tokugawa4 ,the family name of ,iyeyasu and so of the shgunate founded by him4 ,the last shgun1 who abdicated in #ahfh1 is still living4 ,tokyo4 ,the modern name for ,yedo1 meaning the ,eastern ,capital4 ,tor4 ,a gateway without a gate formed of two perpendicular and two horizontal beams1 which at first stood in front of every shint temple4 ,when the ,buddhists adopted it they turned up the ends in a glorious curve1 and used it for affixing tablets4 ,popular etymology derives it from tori1 fowl1 and i 7iru71 dwelling1 regarding it as a perch for the sacred birds4 ,it probably came from ,northern ,india1 where similar gateways called turan are found outside burial-grounds4 ,cf4 ,luchuan turi4 ,uchi1 lit4 inside2 and so1 house4 ,uguisu4 ,a small brown bird1 the cettria cantans1 with a simple but exquisite song4 ,urashima4 ,the ,rip ,van ,winkle of ,japanese folk-lore4 ,he married the ,sea ,king's daughter4 ,after a short honeymoon he came back to visit his parents4 ,but the oldest inhabitant of the village could only dimly remember the family tombstones in the graveyard4 ,thinking he was the victim of an illusion1 ,urashima rashly opened a box the ,sea ,princess had given him4 ,instantly a grey smoke went up to heaven1 and ,urashima changed from a stalwart youth to an old man1 sank down on the seashore and died4 ,he was a thousand years old4 ,yedo4 ,the original name of ,tokyo1 given it by its founder ,iyeyasu4 ,yashiki4 ,the house or enclosure of a noble or honourable person4 ,yen4 ,the ,japanese money unit1 worth #bs4 d4 ,waraji4 ,a straw sandal fastening securely with strings of straw4 ,the straw turns up slightly round the back of the heel4 ,waraji are for travelling4 ,zashki4 ,the room2 parlour2 the sitting-room of a house4 ,for much of the information contained in these notes ,i am indebted to the works of ,prof4 ,b4 ,h4 ,chamberlain4 ,printed by ,,ballantyne ,,co4 ,,limited ,tavistock ,street1 ,london ,books on ,japanese ,subjects ,a ,handbook of ,modern ,japan4 ,by ,ernest ,w4 ,clement4 ,with two maps and over sixty illustrations from photographs4 ,fourth ,edition4 ,cloth1 #abmo1 #a4dj net4 ,japan ,as ,it ,was and ,is4 ,a ,handbook of ,old ,japan4 ,by ,richard ,hildreth4 ,edited by ,ernest ,w4 ,clement1 with an ,introduction by ,william ,elliot ,griffis4 ,with maps and numerous rare illustrations4 ,in two vols41 cloth1 #abmo1 #c4jj net4 ,arts and ,crafts of ,old ,japan4 ,by ,stewart ,dick4 ,with thirty illustrations4 ,gray boards1 #hvo1 #a4bj net4 ,far ,eastern ,impressions4 ,japan1 ,corea1 and ,china4 ,by ,ernest ,f4 ,g4 ,hatch1 ,m4 ,p4 ,with three maps and eighty-eight illustrations from photographs4 ,cloth1 #abmo1 #a4dj net4 ,kakemono4 ,japanese sketches4 ,by ,a4 ,herbage ,edwards4 ,with frontispiece4 ,cloth1 #hvo1 #a4ge net4 ,the ,makers of ,japan4 ,by ,j4 ,morris4 ,with twenty-four illustrations4 ,large #hvo1 #c4jj net4 ,mc,donald of ,oregon4 ,a ,tale of ,two ,shores4 ,the chronicle of the earliest ,japanese refugees to land in ,america1 and of the first ,americans who visited ,japan1 later to act as interpreters to ,perry4 ,by ,eva ,emery ,dye4 ,illustrated by ,w4 ,j4 ,enright4 #hvo1 #a4ej ,a4 ,c4 ,mc,c,l,u,r,g ,,co4 ,,chicago ,,transcribers' ,,notes ,the ,publisher's ,advertisement ,page has been moved from the front to the end of the text4 ,different spellings of the same word have been standardized4 ,in this text version1 the following marking were used to indicate the original text styles3 italic and bold4 ,text originally printed in small caps has been converted to uppercase letters4 ,the following typos and omissions have been changed in the text3 ,page #ci3 missing 8b0 added to3 blue hose1 with brown weather-beaten faces ,page #fc3 missing period added to3 and there was nothing else4 ,page #aae3 8proscribed0 changed to 8prescribed03 already bent to the prescribed curves for me ,page #abb3 8ackowledged0 changed to 8acknowledged03 dramatic instinct is acknowledged to be far below ,page #abe3 8possibilites0 changed to 8possibilities03 more possibilities than a rice-field ,page #adj3 duplicate 8in0 removed from3 are washed in the softest of bark brown ,page #aea3 8th0 changed to 8the03 the position of the person serving ,page #afg3 comma changed to period3 as the boys1 lantern in hand1 plunged downward4 ,page #bji3 8capitials0 changed to 8capitals03 stating in printed ,roman capitals that ,page #bcj3 8ust0 changed to 8us03 but he never told us why4 ,page #bcj3 8nor0 changed to 8not03 that we could not read the ,chinese ,page #bff3 missing period added to3 ,skoshi mo arimasen4 ,page #bie3 missing period added to3 #aedb1 d4 #afaf4 ,the founder of the ,tokugawa ,page #cjj3 missing period added to3 meaning the ,eastern ,capital4