{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_15320/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_15320","id":"gutenberg_15320","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/15320","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Folklore -- Japan","Japan -- Description and travel","Tales -- Japan"],"text":"Produced by Ted Garvin, William Flis, and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team.\n\n\n\n\n\n  Transcriber's Note: Phonetic characters are represented by the\n      following symbols:\n  [=x] = any letter \"x\" with superior macron\n  [`x] = any letter \"x\" with grave accent\n  ['x] = any letter \"x\" with acute accent\n  [.x] = any letter \"x\" with superior dot (semi-dieresis)\n  [:x] = any letter \"x\" with superior double-dot (dieresis)\n  [^x] = any letter \"x\" with superior circumflex\n  [~x] = any letter \"x\" with superior tilde\n  [x,] = any letter \"x\" with cedilla\n  [Sect.] = Section sign\n\n\n\n\nSHORT STORY\n\n\n\n\nTHE ROMANCE OF THE MILKY WAY\n\nAND OTHER STUDIES & STORIES\n\nBY LAFCADIO HEARN\n\n\nHOUGHTON MIFFLIN AND COMPANY BOSTON AND NEW YORK 1905\n\n\n\n\nCOPYRIGHT 1905 BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN & COMPANY ALL RIGHTS RESERVED\n\nPUBLISHED OCTOBER 1905\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n  THE ROMANCE OF THE MILKY WAY       1\n\n  GOBLIN POETRY      51\n\n  \"ULTIMATE QUESTIONS\"      103\n\n  THE MIRROR MAIDEN      125\n\n  THE STORY OF IT[=O] NORISUK['E]      139\n\n  STRANGER THAN FICTION      167\n\n  A LETTER FROM JAPAN      179\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nLafcadio Hearn, known to Nippon as Yakumo Koizumi, was born in\nLeucadia in the Ionian Islands, June 27, 1850. His father was an Irish\nsurgeon in the British Army; his mother was a Greek. Both parents died\nwhile Hearn was still a child, and he was adopted by a great-aunt,\nand educated for the priesthood. To this training he owed his\nLatin scholarship and, doubtless, something of the subtlety of\nhis intelligence. He soon found, however, that the prospect of an\necclesiastical career was alien from his inquiring mind and vivid\ntemperament, and at the age of nineteen he came to America to seek\nhis fortune. After working for a time as a proof-reader, he obtained\nemployment as a newspaper reporter in Cincinnati. Soon he rose to\nbe an editorial writer, and went in the course of a few years to New\nOrleans to join the editorial staff of the \"Times-Democrat.\" Here he\nlived until 1887, writing odd fantasies and arabesques for his paper,\ncontributing articles and sketches to the magazines, and publishing\nseveral curious little books, among them his \"Stray Leaves from\nStrange Literature,\" and his translations from Gautier. In the winter\nof 1887 he began his pilgrimages to exotic countries, being, as\nhe wrote to a friend, \"a small literary bee in search of inspiring\nhoney.\" After a couple of years, spent chiefly in the French West\nIndies, with periods of literary work in New York, he went in 1890\nto Japan to prepare a series of articles for a magazine. Here through\nsome deep affinity of mood with the marvelous people of that country\nhe seems suddenly to have felt himself at last at home. He married a\nJapanese woman; he acquired Japanese citizenship in order to preserve\nthe succession of his property to his family there; he became a\nlecturer in the Imperial University at T[=o]ky[=o]; and in a series\nof remarkable books he made himself the interpreter to the Western\nWorld of the very spirit of Japanese life and art. He died there of\nparalysis of the heart on the 26th of September, 1904.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWith the exception of a body of familiar letters now in process of\ncollection, the present volume contains all of Hearn's writing that\nhe left uncollected in the magazines or in manuscript of a sufficient\nripeness for publication. It is worth noting, however, that perfect as\nis the writing of \"Ultimate Questions,\" and complete as the essay is\nin itself, the author regarded it as unfinished, and, had he lived,\nwould have revised and amplified some portions of it.\n\nBut if this volume lacks the incomparably exquisite touch of its\nauthor in its arrangement and revision, it does, nevertheless, present\nhim in all of his most characteristic veins, and it is in respect both\nto style and to substance perhaps the most mature and significant of\nhis works.\n\nIn his first days as a writer Hearn had conceived an ideal of his art\nas specific as it was ambitious. Early in the eighties he wrote from\nNew Orleans in an unpublished letter to the Rev. Wayland D. Ball\nof Washington: \"The lovers of antique loveliness are proving to me\nthe future possibilities of a long cherished dream,--the English\nrealization of a Latin style, modeled upon foreign masters, and\nrendered even more forcible by that element of _strength_ which\nis the characteristic of Northern tongues. This no man can hope\nto accomplish, but even a translator may carry his stones to the\nmaster-masons of a new architecture of language.\" In the realization\nof his ideal Hearn took unremitting pains. He gave a minute and\nanalytical study to the writings of such masters of style as Flaubert\nand Gautier, and he chose his miscellaneous reading with a peculiar\ncare. He wrote again to the same friend: \"I never read a book\nwhich does not powerfully impress the imagination; but whatever\ncontains novel, curious, potent imagery I always read, no matter\nwhat the subject. When the soil of fancy is really well enriched\nwith innumerable fallen leaves, the flowers of language grow\nspontaneously.\" Finally, to the hard study of technique, to vast\nbut judicious reading, he added a long, creative brooding time.\nTo a Japanese friend, Nobushige Amenomori, he wrote in a passage\nwhich contains by implication a deep theory not only of literary\ncomposition, but of all art:--\n\n\"Now with regard to your own sketch or story. If you are quite\ndissatisfied with it, I think this is probably due _not_ to what you\nsuppose,--imperfection of expression,--but rather to the fact that\nsome _latent_ thought or emotion has not yet defined itself in your\nmind with sufficient sharpness. You feel something and have not been\nable to express the feeling--only because you do not yet quite know\nwhat it is. We feel without understanding feeling; and our most\npowerful emotions are the most undefinable. This must be so, because\nthey are inherited accumulations of feeling, and the multiplicity of\nthem--superimposed one over another--blurs them, and makes them dim,\neven though enormously increasing their strength.... _Unconscious_\nbrain work is the best to develop such latent feeling or thought. By\nquietly writing the thing over and over again, I find that the emotion\nor idea often _develops itself_ in the process,--unconsciously. Again,\nit is often worth while to _try_ to analyze the feeling that remains\ndim. The effort of trying to understand exactly what it is that moves\nus sometimes proves successful.... If you have any feeling--no matter\nwhat--strongly latent in the mind (even only a haunting sadness or\na mysterious joy), you may be sure that it is expressible. Some\nfeelings are, of course, very difficult to develop. I shall show you\none of these days, when we see each other, a page that I worked at\nfor _months_ before the idea came clearly.... When the best result\ncomes, it ought to surprise you, for our best work is out of the\nUnconscious.\"\n\nThrough this study, reading, and brooding Lafcadio Hearn's prose\nripened and mellowed consistently to the end. In mere workmanship the\npresent volume is one of his most admirable, while in its heightened\npassages, like the final paragraph of \"The Romance of the Milky Way,\"\nthe rich, melancholy music, the profound suggestion, are not easily\nmatched from any but the very greatest English prose.\n\nIn substance the volume is equally significant. In 1884 he wrote\nto one of the closest of his friends that he had at last found his\nfeet intellectually through the reading of Herbert Spencer which\nhad dispelled all \"isms\" from his mind and left him \"the vague\nbut omnipotent consolation of the Great Doubt.\" And in \"Ultimate\nQuestions,\" which strikes, so to say, the dominant chord of this\nvolume, we have an almost lyrical expression of the meaning for him of\nthe Spencerian philosophy and psychology. In it is his characteristic\nmingling of Buddhist and Shinto thought with English and French\npsychology, strains which in his work \"do not simply mix well,\" as\nhe says in one of his letters, but \"absolutely unite, like chemical\nelements--rush together with a shock;\"--and in it he strikes his\ndeepest note. In his steady envisagement of the horror that envelops\nthe stupendous universe of science, in his power to evoke and revive\nold myths and superstitions, and by their glamour to cast a ghostly\nlight of vanished suns over the darkness of the abyss, he was the most\nLucretian of modern writers.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn outward appearance Hearn, the man, was in no way prepossessing. In\nthe sharply lined picture of him drawn by one of his Japanese comrades\nin the \"Atlantic\" for October, 1905, he appears, \"slightly corpulent\nin later years, short in stature, hardly five feet high, of somewhat\nstooping gait. A little brownish in complexion, and of rather hairy\nskin. A thin, sharp, aquiline nose, large protruding eyes, of which\nthe left was blind and the right very near-sighted.\"\n\nThe same writer, Nobushige Amenomori, has set down a reminiscence, not\nof Hearn the man, but of Hearn the genius, wherewith this introduction\nto the last of his writings may fitly conclude: \"I shall ever retain\nthe vivid remembrance of the sight I had when I stayed over night at\nhis house for the first time. Being used myself also to sit up late, I\nread in bed that night. The clock struck one in the morning, but there\nwas a light in Hearn's study. I heard some low, hoarse coughing. I was\nafraid my friend might be ill; so I stepped out of my room and went to\nhis study. Not wanting, however, to disturb him, if he was at work,\nI cautiously opened the door just a little, and peeped in. I saw\nmy friend intent in writing at his high desk, with his nose almost\ntouching the paper. Leaf after leaf he wrote on. In a while he held\nup his head, and what did I see! It was not the Hearn I was familiar\nwith; it was another Hearn. His face was mysteriously white; his\nlarge eye gleamed. He appeared like one in touch with some unearthly\npresence.\n\n\"Within that homely looking man there burned something pure as the\nvestal fire, and in that flame dwelt a mind that called forth life and\npoetry out of dust, and grasped the highest themes of human thought.\"\n\nF.G.\n\nSeptember, 1905.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ROMANCE, OF THE MILKY WAY\n\n\n    Of old it was said: 'The River of Heaven is the Ghost of\n    Waters.' We behold it shifting its bed in the course of the\n    year as an earthly river sometimes does.\n\n    _Ancient Scholar_\n\n\nAmong the many charming festivals celebrated by Old Japan, the most\nromantic was the festival of Tanabata-Sama, the Weaving-Lady of the\nMilky Way. In the chief cities her holiday is now little observed; and\nin T[=o]ky[=o] it is almost forgotten. But in many country districts,\nand even in villages, near the capital, it is still celebrated in a\nsmall way. If you happen to visit an old-fashioned country town or\nvillage, on the seventh day of the seventh month (by the ancient\ncalendar), you will probably notice many freshly-cut bamboos fixed\nupon the roofs of the houses, or planted in the ground beside them,\nevery bamboo having attached to it a number of strips of colored\npaper. In some very poor villages you might find that these papers are\nwhite, or of one color only; but the general rule is that the papers\nshould be of five or seven different colors. Blue, green, red, yellow,\nand white are the tints commonly displayed. All these papers are\ninscribed with short poems written in praise of Tanabata and her\nhusband Hikoboshi. After the festival the bamboos are taken down and\nthrown into the nearest stream, together with the poems attached to\nthem.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTo understand the romance of this old festival, you must know the\nlegend of those astral divinities to whom offerings used to be made,\neven by, the Imperial Household, on the seventh day of the seventh\nmonth. The legend is Chinese. This is the Japanese popular version\nof it:--\n\nThe great god of the firmament had a lovely daughter,\nTanabata-tsum['e], who passed her days in weaving garments for her\naugust parent. She rejoiced in her work, and thought that there was\nno greater pleasure than the pleasure of weaving. But one day, as she\nsat before her loom at the door of her heavenly dwelling, she saw a\nhandsome peasant lad pass by, leading an ox, and she fell in love with\nhim. Her august father, divining her secret wish, gave her the youth\nfor a husband. But the wedded lovers became too fond of each other,\nand neglected their duty to the god of the firmament; the sound of\nthe shuttle was no longer heard, and the ox wandered, unheeded, over\nthe plains of heaven. Therefore the great god was displeased, and he\nseparated the pair. They were sentenced to live thereafter apart, with\nthe Celestial River between them; but it was permitted them to see\neach other once a year, on the seventh night of the seventh moon. On\nthat night--providing the skies be clear--the birds of heaven make,\nwith their bodies and wings, a bridge over the stream; and by means\nof that bridge the lovers can meet. But if there be rain, the River of\nHeaven rises, and becomes so wide that the bridge cannot be formed. So\nthe husband and wife cannot always meet, even on the seventh night of\nthe seventh month; it may happen, by reason of bad weather, that they\ncannot meet for three or four years at a time. But their love remains\nimmortally young and eternally patient; and they continue to fulfill\ntheir respective duties each day without fault,--happy in their hope\nof being able to meet on the seventh night of the next seventh month.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTo ancient Chinese fancy, the Milky Way was a luminous river,--the\nRiver of Heaven,--the Silver Stream. It has been stated by Western\nwriters that Tanabata, the Weaving-Lady, is a star in Lyra; and the\nHerdsman, her beloved, a star in Aquila, on the opposite side of the\ngalaxy. But it were more correct to say that both are represented, to\nFar-Eastern imagination, by groups of stars. An old Japanese book puts\nthe matter thus plainly: \"Kengy[=u] (the Ox-Leader) is on the west\nside of the Heavenly River, and is represented by three stars in a\nrow, and looks like a man leading an ox. Shokujo (the Weaving-Lady)\nis on the east side of the Heavenly River: three stars so placed as\nto appear like the figure of a woman seated at her loom.... The former\npresides over all things relating to agriculture; the latter, over all\nthat relates to women's work.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn an old book called Zatsuwa-Shin, it is said that these deities\nwere of earthly origin. Once in this world they were man and wife,\nand lived in China; and the husband was called Ishi, and the wife\nHakuy[=o]. They especially and most devoutly reverenced the Moon.\nEvery clear evening, after sundown, they waited with eagerness to see\nher rise. And when she began to sink towards the horizon, they would\nclimb to the top of a hill near their house, so that they might be\nable to gaze upon her face as long as possible. Then, when she at last\ndisappeared from view, they would mourn together. At the age of ninety\nand nine, the wife died; and her spirit rode up to heaven on a magpie,\nand there became a star. The husband, who was then one hundred and\nthree years old, sought consolation for his bereavement in looking at\nthe Moon and when he welcomed her rising and mourned her setting, it\nseemed to him as if his wife were still beside him.\n\nOne summer night, Hakuy[=o]--now immortally beautiful and\nyoung--descended from heaven upon her magpie, to visit her husband;\nand he was made very happy by that visit. But from that time he\ncould think of nothing but the bliss of becoming a star, and joining\nHakuy[=o] beyond the River of Heaven. At last he also ascended to the\nsky, riding upon a crow; and there he became a star-god. But he could\nnot join Hakuy[=o] at once, as he had hoped;--for between his allotted\nplace and hers flowed the River of Heaven; and it was not permitted\nfor either star to cross the stream, because the Master of Heaven\n(_Ten-Tei_) daily bathed in its waters. Moreover, there was no bridge.\nBut on one day every year--the seventh day of the seventh month--they\nwere allowed to see each other. The Master of Heaven goes always\non that day to the Zenh[=o]do, to hear the preaching of the law of\nBuddha; and then the magpies and the crows make, with their hovering\nbodies and outspread wings, a bridge over the Celestial Stream; and\nHakuy[=o] crosses that bridge to meet her husband.\n\nThere can be little doubt that the Japanese festival called\nTanabata was originally identical with the festival of the Chinese\nWeaving-Goddess, Tchi-Niu; the Japanese holiday seems to have\nbeen especially a woman's holiday, from the earliest times; and\nthe characters with which the word Tanabata is written signify a\nweaving-girl. But as both of the star-deities were worshiped on the\nseventh of the seventh month, some Japanese scholars have not been\nsatisfied with the common explanation of the name, and have stated\nthat it was originally composed with the word _tan['e]_ (seed, or\ngrain), and the word _hata_ (loom). Those who accept this etymology\nmake the appellation, Tanabata-Sama, plural instead of singular, and\nrender it as \"the deities of grain and of the loom,\"--that is to say,\nthose presiding over agriculture and weaving. In old Japanese pictures\nthe star-gods are represented according to this conception of their\nrespective attributes;--Hikoboshi being figured as a peasant lad\nleading an ox to drink of the Heavenly River, on the farther side of\nwhich Orihim['e] (Tanabata) appears, weaving at her loom. The garb of\nboth is Chinese; and the first Japanese pictures of these divinities\nwere probably copied from some Chinese original.\n\nIn the oldest collection of Japanese poetry extant,--the\nMany[=o]sh[=u], dating from 760 A.D.,--the male divinity is usually\ncalled Hikoboshi, and the female Tanabata-tsum['e]; but in later times\nboth have been called Tanabata. In Izumo the male deity is popularly\ntermed O-Tanabata Sama, and the female M['e]-Tanabata Sama. Both are\nstill known by many names. The male is called Kaiboshi as well as\nHikoboshi and Kengy[=u]; while the female is called Asagao-him['e]\n(\"Morning Glory Princess\")[1], Ito-ori-him['e] (\"Thread-Weaving\nPrincess\"), Momoko-him['e] (\"Peach-Child Princess\"), Takimono-him['e]\n(\"Incense Princess\"), and Sasagani-him['e] (\"Spider Princess\"). Some\nof these names are difficult to explain,--especially the last, which\nreminds us of the Greek legend of Arachne. Probably the Greek myth and\nthe Chinese story have nothing whatever in common; but in old Chinese\nbooks there is recorded a curious fact which might well suggest a\nrelationship. In the time of the Chinese Emperor Ming Hwang (whom the\nJapanese call Gens[=o]), it was customary for the ladies of the court,\non the seventh day of the seventh month, to catch spiders and put them\ninto an incense-box for purposes of divination. On the morning of the\neighth day the box was opened; and if the spiders had spun thick webs\nduring the night the omen was good. But if they had remained idle the\nomen was bad.\n\n[Footnote 1: Asagao (lit., \"morning-face\") is the Japanese name for\nthe beautiful climbing plant which we call \"morning glory.\"]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThere is a story that, many ages ago, a beautiful woman visited the\ndwelling of a farmer in the mountains of Izumo, and taught to the\nonly daughter of the household an art of weaving never before known.\nOne evening the beautiful stranger vanished away; and the people knew\nthat they had seen the Weaving-Lady of Heaven. The daughter of the\nfarmer became renowned for her skill in weaving. But she would never\nmarry,--because she had been the companion of Tanabata-Sama.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen there is a Chinese story--delightfully vague--about a man who\nonce made a visit, unawares, to the Heavenly Land. He had observed\nthat every year, during the eighth month, a raft of precious wood came\nfloating to the shore on which he lived; and he wanted to know where\nthat wood grew. So he loaded a boat with provisions for a two years'\nvoyage, and sailed away in the direction from which the rafts used to\ndrift. For months and months he sailed on, over an always placid sea;\nand at last he arrived at a pleasant shore, where wonderful trees\nwere growing. He moored his boat, and proceeded alone into the unknown\nland, until he came to the bank of a river whose waters were bright as\nsilver. On the opposite shore he saw a pavilion; and in the pavilion\na beautiful woman sat weaving; she was white like moonshine, and made\na radiance all about her. Presently he saw a handsome young peasant\napproaching, leading an ox to the water; and he asked the young\npeasant to tell him the name of the place and the country. But the\nyouth seemed to be displeased by the question, and answered in a\nsevere tone: \"If you want to know the name of this place, go back\nto where you came from, and ask Gen-Kum-Pei.\"[2] So the voyager,\nfeeling afraid, hastened to his boat, and returned to China. There he\nsought out the sage Gen-Kum-Pei, to whom he related the adventure.\nGen-Kum-Pei clapped his hands for wonder, and exclaimed, \"So it was\nyou!... On the seventh day of the seventh month I was gazing at\nthe heavens, and I saw that the Herdsman and the Weaver were about\nto meet;--but between them was a new Star, which I took to be a\nGuest-Star. Fortunate man! you have been to the River of Heaven, and\nhave looked upon the face of the Weaving-Lady!...\"\n\n[Footnote 2: This is the Japanese reading of the Chinese name.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n--It is said that the meeting of the Herdsman and the Weaver can be\nobserved by any one with good eyes; for whenever it occurs those stars\nburn with five different colors. That is why offerings of five colors\nare made to the Tanabata divinities, and why the poems composed in\ntheir praise are written upon paper of five different tints.\n\nBut, as I have said before, the pair can meet only in fair weather.\nIf there be the least rain upon the seventh night, the River of Heaven\nwill rise, and the lovers must wait another whole year. Therefore\nthe rain that happens to fall on Tanabata night is called _Namida no\nAm['e]_, \"The Rain of Tears.\"\n\nWhen the sky is clear on the seventh night, the lovers are fortunate;\nand their stars can be seen to sparkle with delight. If the star\nKengy[=u] then shines very brightly, there will be great rice crops\nin the autumn. If the star Shokujo looks brighter than usual, there\nwill be a prosperous time for weavers, and for every kind of female\nindustry.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn old Japan it was generally supposed that the meeting of the pair\nsignified good fortune to mortals. Even to-day, in many parts of the\ncountry, children sing a little song on the evening of the Tanabata\nfestival,--_Tenki ni nari!_ (\"O weather, be clear!\") In the province\nof Iga the young folks also sing a jesting song at the supposed hour\nof the lovers' meeting:--\n\n    Tanabata ya!\n  Amari isogaba,\n    Korobub['e]shi![3]\n\nBut in the province of Izumo, which is a very rainy district, the\ncontrary belief prevails; and it is thought that if the sky be clear\non the seventh day of the seventh month, misfortune will follow. The\nlocal explanation of this belief is that if the stars can meet, there\nwill be born from their union many evil deities who will afflict the\ncountry with drought and other calamities.\n\n[Footnote 3: \"Ho! Tanabata! if you hurry too much, you will tumble\ndown!\"]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe festival of Tanabata was first celebrated in Japan on the seventh\nday of the seventh month of Tomby[=o] Sh[=o]h[=o] (A.D. 755). Perhaps\nthe Chinese origin of the Tanabata divinities accounts for the fact\nthat their public worship was at no time represented by many temples.\n\nI have been able to find record of only one temple to them, called\nTanabata-jinja, which was situated at a village called Hoshiaimura,\nin the province of Owari, and surrounded by a grove called\nTanabata-mori.[4]\n\n[Footnote 4: There is no mention, however, of any such village in any\nmodern directory.]\n\nEven before Temby[=o] Sh[=o]h[=o], however, the legend of the\nWeaving-Maiden seems to have been well known in Japan; for it is\nrecorded that on the seventh night of the seventh year of Y[=o]r[=o]\n(A.D. 723) the poet Yamagami no Okura composed the song:--\n\n    Amanogawa,\n  Ai-muki tachit['e],\n    Waga ko[:i]shi\n  Kimi kimasu nari--\n  Himo-toki makina![5]\n\nIt would seem that the Tanabata festival was first established\nin Japan eleven hundred and fifty years ago, as an Imperial Court\nfestival only, in accordance with Chinese precedent. Subsequently\nthe nobility and the military classes everywhere followed imperial\nexample; and the custom of celebrating the Hoshi-mat-suri, or\nStar-Festival,--as it was popularly called,--spread gradually\ndownwards, until at last the seventh day of the seventh month became,\nin the full sense of the term, a national holiday. But the fashion of\nits observance varied considerably at different eras and in different\nprovinces.\n\n[Footnote 5: For a translation and explanation of this song, see\n_infra_, page 30.]\n\nThe ceremonies at the Imperial Court were of the most elaborate\ncharacter: a full account of them is given in the _K[=o]ji\nKongen_,--with explanatory illustrations. On the evening of the\nseventh day of the seventh month, mattings were laid down on the east\nside of that portion of the Imperial Palace called the Seir-y[=o]den;\nand upon these mattings were placed four tables of offerings to the\nStar-deities. Besides the customary food-offerings, there were placed\nupon these tables rice-wine, incense, vases of red lacquer containing\nflowers, a harp and flute, and a needle with five eyes, threaded\nwith threads of five different colors. Black-lacquered oil-lamps were\nplaced beside the tables, to illuminate the feast. In another part of\nthe grounds a tub of water was so placed as to reflect the light of\nthe Tanabata-stars; and the ladies of the Imperial Household attempted\nto thread a needle by the reflection. She who succeeded was to be\nfortunate during the following year. The court-nobility (_Kug['e]_)\nwere obliged to make certain offerings to the Imperial House on the\nday of the festival. The character of these offerings, and the manner\nof their presentation, were fixed by decree. They were conveyed to\nthe palace upon a tray, by a veiled lady of rank, in ceremonial\ndress. Above her, as she walked, a great red umbrella was borne by\nan attendant. On the tray were placed seven _tanzaku_ (longilateral\nslips of fine tinted paper for the writing of poems); seven\n_kudzu_-leaves;[6] seven inkstones; seven strings of _s[=o]men_\n(a kind of vermicelli); fourteen writing-brushes; and a bunch of\nyam-leaves gathered at night, and thickly sprinkled with dew. In the\npalace grounds the ceremony began at the Hour of the Tiger,--4 A.M.\nThen the inkstones were carefully washed,--prior to preparing the ink\nfor the writing of poems in praise of the Star-deities,--and each one\nset upon a _kudzu_-leaf. One bunch of bedewed yam-leaves was then\nlaid upon every inkstone; and with this dew, instead of water, the\nwriting-ink was prepared. All the ceremonies appear to have been\ncopied from those in vogue at the Chinese court in the time of the\nEmperor Ming-Hwang.\n\n[Footnote 6: _Pueraria Thunbergiana._]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was not until the time of the Tokugawa Sh[=o]gunate that the\nTanabata festival became really a national holiday; and the popular\ncustom of attaching _tansaku_ of different colors to freshly-cut\nbamboos, in celebration of the occasion, dates only from the era\nof Bunser (1818). Previously the _tanzaku_ had been made of a very\ncostly quality of paper; and the old aristocratic ceremonies had been\nnot less expensive than elaborate. But in the time of the Tokugawa\nSh[=o]gunate a very cheap paper of various colors was manufactured;\nand the holiday ceremonies were suffered to assume an inexpensive\nform, in which even the poorest classes could indulge.\n\nThe popular customs relating to the festival differed according to\nlocality. Those of Izumo--where all classes of society, _samurai_ or\ncommon folk, celebrated the holiday in much the same way--used to be\nparticularly interesting; and a brief account of them will suggest\nsomething of the happy aspects of life in feudal times. At the Hour\nof the Tiger, on the seventh night of the seventh month, everybody\nwas up; and the work of washing the inkstones and writing-brushes\nwas performed. Then, in the household garden, dew was collected upon\nyam-leaves. This dew was called _Amanogawa no suzuki_ (\"drops from the\nRiver of Heaven\"); and it was used to make fresh ink for writing the\npoems which were to be suspended to bamboos planted in the garden. It\nwas usual for friends to present each other with new inkstones at the\ntime of the Tanabata festival; and if there were any new inkstones\nin the house, the fresh ink was prepared in these. Each member of\nthe family then wrote poems. The adults composed verses, according\nto their ability, in praise of the Star-deities; and the children\neither wrote dictation or tried to improvise. Little folk too young\nto use the writing-brush without help had their small hands guided,\nby parent or elder sister or elder brother, so as to shape on a\n_tanzaku_ the character of some single word or phrase relating to\nthe festival,--such as \"Amanogawa,\" or \"Tanabata,\" or \"Kasasagi\nno Hashi\" (the Bridge of Magpies). In the garden were planted two\nfreshly-cut bamboos, with branches and leaves entire,--a male bamboo\n(_otoko-dak['e]_) and a female bamboo (_onna-dak['e]_). They were\nset up about six feet apart, and to a cord extended between them were\nsuspended paper-cuttings of five colors, and skeins of dyed thread of\nfive colors. The paper-cuttings represented upper-robes,--_kimono_.\nTo the leaves and branches of the bamboos were tied the _tanzaku_\non which poems had been written by the members of the family.\nAnd upon a table, set between the bamboos, or immediately before\nthem, were placed vessels containing various offerings to the\nStar-deities,--fruits, _s[=o]men_, rice-wine, and vegetables of\ndifferent kinds, such as cucumbers and watermelons.\n\nBut the most curious Izumo custom relating to the festival was the\n_N['e]mu-nagashi_, or \"Sleep-wash-away\" ceremony. Before day-break\nthe young folks used to go to some stream, carrying with them bunches\ncomposed of _n['e]muri_-leaves and bean-leaves mixed together. On\nreaching the stream, they would fling their bunches of leaves into the\ncurrent, and sing a little song:--\n\n  N['e]mu wa, nagar['e] yo!\n  Mam['e] no ha wa, tomar['e]!\n\nThese verses might be rendered in two ways; because the word _n['e]mu_\ncan be taken in the meaning either of _n['e]muri_ (sleep), or of\n_nemuri-gi_ or _n['e]munoki_, the \"sleep-plant\" (mimosa),--while the\nsyllables _mam['e]_, as written in _kana_, can signify either \"bean,\"\nor \"activity,\" or \"strength,\" \"vigor,\" \"health,\" etc. But the ceremony\nwas symbolical, and the intended meaning of the song was:--\n\n  Drowsiness, drift away!\n  Leaves of vigor, remain!\n\nAfter this, all the young folk would jump into the water, to bathe or\nswim, in token of their resolve to shed all laziness for the coming\nyear, and to maintain a vigorous spirit of endeavor.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nYet it was probably in Y['e]do (now T[=o]ky[=o]) that the Tanabata\nfestival assumed its most picturesque aspects. During the two days\nthat the celebration lasted,--the sixth and seventh of the seventh\nmonth,--the city used to present the appearance of one vast bamboo\ngrove; fresh bamboos, with poems attached to them, being erected upon\nthe roofs of the houses. Peasants were in those days able to do a\ngreat business in bamboos, which were brought into town by hundreds\nof wagonloads for holiday use. Another feature of the Y['e]do festival\nwas the children's procession, in which bamboos, with poems attached\nto them, were carried about the city. To each such bamboo there\nwas also fastened a red plaque on which were painted, in Chinese\ncharacters, the names of the Tanabata stars.\n\nBut almost everywhere, under the Tokugawa r['e]gime, the Tanabata\nfestival used to be a merry holiday for the young people of all\nclasses,--a holiday beginning with lantern displays before sunrise,\nand lasting well into the following night. Boys and girls on that day\nwere dressed in their best, and paid visits of ceremony to friends and\nneighbors.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n--The moon of the seventh month used to be called _Tanabata-tsuki_, or\n\"The Moon of Tanabata.\" And it was also called _Fumi-tsuki_, or \"The\nLiterary Moon,\" because during the seventh month poems were everywhere\ncomposed in praise of the Celestial Lovers.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI think that my readers ought to be interested in the following\nselection of ancient Japanese poems, treating of the Tanabata legend.\nAll are from the _Many[=o]sh[=u]_. The _Many[=o]sh[=u]_, or \"Gathering\nof a Myriad Leaves,\" is a vast collection of poems composed before the\nmiddle of the eighth century. It was compiled by Imperial order, and\ncompleted early in the ninth century. The number of the poems which\nit contains is upwards of four thousand; some being \"long poems\"\n(_naga-uta_), but the great majority _tanka_, or compositions limited\nto thirty-one syllables; and the authors were courtiers or high\nofficials. The first eleven _tanka_ hereafter translated were composed\nby Yamagami no Okura, Governor of the province of Chikuzen more than\neleven hundred years ago. His fame as a poet is well deserved; for\nnot a little of his work will bear comparison with some of the finer\nepigrams of the Greek Anthology. The following verses, upon the death\nof his little son Furubi, will serve as an example:--\n\n    Wakaker['e]ba\n  Nichi-yuki shiraji:\n    Mahi wa s['e]mu,\n  Shitab['e] no tsukahi\n  Ohit['e]-tohoras['e].\n\n    --[_As he is so young, he cannot know the way.... To the\n    messenger of the Underworld I will give a bribe, and entreat\n    him, saying: \"Do thou kindly take the little one upon thy back\n    along the road.\"_]\n\nEight hundred years earlier, the Greek poet Diodorus Zonas of Sardis\nhad written:--\n\n    \"_Do thou, who rowest the boat of the dead in the water\n    of this reedy lake, for Hades, stretch out thy hand, dark\n    Charon, to the son of Kinyras, as he mounts the ladder by the\n    gang-way, and receive him. For his sandals will cause the lad\n    to slip, and he fears to set his feet naked on the sand of the\n    shore._\"\n\nBut the charming epigram of Diodorus was inspired only by a myth,--for\nthe \"son of Kinyras\" was no other than Adonis,--whereas the verses of\nOkura express for us the yearning of a father's heart.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n--Though the legend of Tanabata was indeed borrowed from China, the\nreader will find nothing Chinese in the following compositions.\nThey represent the old classic poetry at its purest, free from alien\ninfluence; and they offer us many suggestions as to the condition of\nJapanese life and thought twelve hundred years ago. Remembering that\nthey were written before any modern European literature had yet taken\nform, one is startled to find how little the Japanese written language\nhas changed in the course of so many centuries. Allowing for a few\nobsolete words, and sundry slight changes of pronunciation, the\nordinary Japanese reader to-day can enjoy these early productions of\nhis native muse with about as little difficulty as the English reader\nfinds in studying the poets of the Elizabethan era. Moreover, the\nrefinement and the simple charm of the _Many[=o]sh[=u]_ compositions\nhave never been surpassed, and seldom equaled, by later Japanese\npoets.\n\nAs for the forty-odd _tanka_ which I have translated, their chief\nattraction lies, I think, in what they reveal to us of the human\nnature of their authors. Tanabata-tsum['e] still represents for us\nthe Japanese wife, worshipfully loving;--Hikoboshi appears to us with\nnone of the luminosity of the god, but as the young Japanese husband\nof the sixth or seventh century, before Chinese ethical convention\nhad begun to exercise its restraint upon life and literature. Also\nthese poems interest us by their expression of the early feeling for\nnatural beauty. In them we find the scenery and the seasons of Japan\ntransported to the Blue Plain of High Heaven;--the Celestial Stream\nwith its rapids and shallows, its sudden risings and clamourings\nwithin its stony bed, and its water-grasses bending in the autumn\nwind, might well be the Kamogawa;--and the mists that haunt its shores\nare the very mists of Arashiyama. The boat of Hikoboshi, impelled by\na single oar working upon a wooden peg, is not yet obsolete; and at\nmany a country ferry you may still see the _hiki-fun['e]_ in which\nTanabata-tsum['e] prayed her husband to cross in a night of storm,--a\nflat broad barge pulled over the river by cables. And maids and wives\nstill sit at their doors in country villages, on pleasant autumn days,\nto weave as Tanabata-tsum['e] wove for the sake of her lord and lover.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n--It will be observed that, in most of these verses, it is not the\nwife who dutifully crosses the Celestial River to meet her husband,\nbut the husband who rows over the stream to meet the wife; and there\nis no reference to the Bridge of Birds.... As for my renderings, those\nreaders who know by experience the difficulty of translating Japanese\nverse will be the most indulgent, I fancy. The Romaji system of\nspelling has been followed (except in one or two cases where I thought\nit better to indicate the ancient syllabication after the method\nadopted by Aston); and words or phrases necessarily supplied have been\ninclosed in parentheses.\n\n    Amanogawa\n  Ai-muki tachit['e],\n    Waga ko[:i]shi\n  Kimi kimasu nari\n  Himo-toki mak['e]na!\n\n    [_He is coming, my long-desired lord, whom I have been waiting\n    to meet here, on the banks of the River of Heaven.... The\n    moment of loosening my girdle is nigh!_[7]]\n\n[Footnote 7: The last line alludes to a charming custom of which\nmention is made in the most ancient Japanese literature. Lovers,\nere parting, were wont to tie each other's inner girdle (_himo_) and\npledge themselves to leave the knot untouched until the time of their\nnext meeting. This poem is said to have been composed in the seventh\nyear of Y[=o]r[=o],--A.D. 723,--eleven hundred and eighty-two years\nago.]\n\n    Hisakata no[8]\n  Ama no kawas['e] ni,\n    Fun['e] uk['e]t['e],\n  Koyo[:i] ka kimi ga\n    Agari kimasan?\n\n[Footnote 8: _Hisakata-no_ is a \"pillow-word\" used by the old poets in\nrelation to celestial objects; and it is often difficult to translate.\nMr. Aston thinks that the literal meaning of _hisakata_ is simply\n\"long-hard,\" in the sense of long-enduring,--_hisa_ (long), _katai_\n(hard, or firm),--so that _hisakata-no_ would have the meaning of\n\"firmamental.\" Japanese commentators, however, say that the term\nis composed with the three words, _hi_ (sun), _sasu_ (shine), and\n_kata_ (side);--and this etymology would justify the rendering\nof _hisakata-no_ by some such expression as \"light-shedding,\"\n\"radiance-giving.\" On the subject of pillow-words, see Aston's\n_Grammar of the Japanese Written Language_.]\n\n    [_Over the Rapids of the Everlasting Heaven, floating in his\n    boat, my lord will doubtless deign to come to me this very\n    night._]\n\n    Kaz['e] kumo wa\n  Futatsu no kishi ni\n    Kayo[:e]domo,\n  Waga toho-tsuma no\n  Koto zo kayowanu!\n\n    [_Though winds and clouds to either bank may freely come or\n    go, between myself and my faraway spouse no message whatever\n    may pass._]\n\n    Tsubut['e][9] ni mo\n  Nag['e] koshitsu-b['e]ki,\n    Amanogawa\n  H['e]dat['e]r['e]ba ka mo,\n  Amata sub['e]-naki!\n\n    [_To the opposite bank one might easily fling a pebble; yet,\n    being separated from him by the River of Heaven, alas! to hope\n    for a meeting (except in autumn) is utterly useless._]\n\n[Footnote 9: The old text has _tabut['e]_.]\n\n    Aki-kaz['e] no\n  Fukinishi hi yori\n    \"Itsushika\" to--;\n  Waga machi ko[^i]shi\n  Kimi zo kimas['e]ru.\n\n    [_From the day that the autumn wind began to blow (I kept\n    saying to myself), \"Ah! when shall we meet?\"--but now my\n    beloved, for whom I waited and longed, has come indeed!_]\n\n    Amanogawa\n  Ito kawa-nami wa\n    Tatan['e]domo,\n  Samorai gatashi--\n  Chikaki kono s['e] wo.\n\n    [_Though the waters of the River of Heaven have not greatly\n    risen, (yet to cross) this near stream and to wait upon (my\n    lord and lover) remains impossible._]\n\n    Sod['e] furaba\n  Mi mo kawashitsu-b['e]ku\n    Chika-ker['e]do,\n  Wataru sub['e] nashi,\n  Aki nishi aran['e]ba.\n\n    [_Though she is so near that the waving of her (long) sleeves\n    can be distinctly seen, yet there is no way to cross the\n    stream before the season of autumn._]\n\n    Kag['e]ro[:i] no\n  Honoka ni mi['e]t['e]\n    Wakar['e]naba;--\n  Motonaya ko[:i]n\n  A[:u]-toki mad['e] wa!\n\n    [_When we were separated, I had seen her for a moment\n    only,--and dimly as one sees a flying midge;[10] now I\n    must vainly long for her as before, until time of our next\n    meeting!_]\n\n    Hikoboshi no\n  Tsuma muka[:e]-bun['e]\n    Kogizurashi,--\n  Ama-no-Kawara ni\n  Kiri no tat['e]ru wa.\n\n[Footnote 10: _Kag['e]ro[:i]_ is an obsolete form of _kag['e]r[=o]_,\nmeaning an ephemera.]\n\n    [_Methinks that Hikoboshi must be rowing his boat to meet his\n    wife,--for a mist (as of oar-spray) is rising over the course\n    of the Heavenly Stream._]\n\n    Kasumi tatsu\n  Ama-no-Kawara ni,\n    Kimi matsu to,--\n  Ikay[=o] hodo ni\n  Mono-suso nurenu.\n\n    [_While awaiting my lord on the misty shore of the River of\n    Heaven, the skirts of my robe have somehow become wet._]\n\n    Amanogawa,\n  Mi-tsu no nami oto\n    Sawagu-nari:\n  Waga matsu-kimi no\n  Funad['e]-surashi mo.\n\n    [_On the River of Heaven, at the place of the august\n    ferry, the sound of the water has become loud: perhaps my\n    long-awaited lord will soon be coming in his boat._]\n\n    Tanabata no\n  Sod['e] maku yo[:i] no\n    Akatoki wa,\n  Kawas['e] no tazu wa\n  Nakazu to mo yoshi.\n\n    [_As Tanabata (slumbers) with her long sleeves rolled up,\n    until the reddening of the dawn, do not, O storks of the\n    river-shallows, awaken her by your cries._[11]]\n\n[Footnote 11: Lit., \"not to cry out (will be) good\"--but a literal\ntranslation of the poem is scarcely possible.]\n\n    Amanogawa\n  Kiri-tachi-wataru:\n    Ky[=o], ky[=o], to--\n  Waga matsu-ko[:i]shi\n  Funad['e]-surashi!\n\n    [_(She sees that) a mist is spreading across the River of\n    Heaven.... \"To-day, to-day,\" she thinks, \"my long-awaited lord\n    will probably come over in his boat.\"_]\n\n    Amanogawa,\n  Yasu no watari ni,\n    Fun['e] uk['e]t['e];--\n  Waga tachi-matsu to\n  Imo ni tsug['e] koso.\n\n    [_By the ferry of Yasu, on the River of Heaven, the boat is\n    floating: I pray you tell my younger sister[12] that I stand\n    here and wait._]\n\n[Footnote 12: That is to say, \"wife.\" In archaic Japanese the word\n_imo_ signified both \"wife\" and \"younger sister.\" The term might also\nbe rendered \"darling\" or \"beloved.\"]\n\n    [=O]-sora yo\n  Kay[=o] war['e] sura,\n    Na ga yu['e] ni,\n  Amanokawa-ji no\n  Nazumit['e] zo koshi.\n\n    [_Though I (being a Star-god) can pass freely to and fro,\n    through the great sky,--yet to cross over the River of Heaven,\n    for your sake, was weary work indeed!_]\n\n    Yachihoko no\n  Kami no mi-yo yori\n    Tomoshi-zuma;--\n  Hito-shiri ni keri\n  Tsugit['e]shi omo[:e]ba.\n\n    [_From the august Age of the\n    God-of-Eight-Thousand-Spears_,[13] _she had been my spouse in\n    secret_[14] _only; yet now, because of my constant longing for\n    her, our relation has become known to men._]\n\n[Footnote 13: Yachihoko-no-Kami, who has many other names, is\nthe Great God of Izumo, and is commonly known by his appellation\nOho-kuni-nushi-no-Kami, or the \"Deity-Master-of-the Great-Land.\" He\nis locally worshiped also as the god of marriage,--for which reason,\nperhaps, the poet thus refers to him.]\n\n[Footnote 14: Or, \"my seldom-visited spouse.\" The word _tsuma_\n(_zuma_), in ancient Japanese, signified either wife or husband; and\nthis poem might be rendered so as to express either the wife's or the\nhusband's thoughts.]\n\n    Am['e] tsuchi to\n  Wakar['e]shi toki yo\n    Onoga tsuma;\n  Shika zo t['e] ni aru\n  Aki matsu ar['e] wa.\n\n    [_From the time when heaven and earth were parted, she has\n    been my own wife;--yet, to be with her, I must always wait\n    till autumn._[15]]\n\n[Footnote 15: By the ancient calendar, the seventh day of the seventh\nmonth would fall in the autumn season.]\n\n    Waga k[=o]ru\n  Niho no omo wa\n    Koyo[:i] mo ka\n  Ama-no-kawara ni\n  Ishi-makura makan.\n\n    [_With my beloved, of the ruddy-tinted cheeks_,[16] _this\n    night indeed will I descend into the bed of the River of\n    Heaven, to sleep on a pillow of stone._]\n\n[Footnote 16: The literal meaning is \"_b['e]ni_-tinted face,\"--that\nis to say, a face of which the cheeks and lips have been tinted with\n_b['e]ni_, a kind of rouge.]\n\n    Amanogawa.\n  Mikomori-gusa no\n    Aki-kaz['e] ni\n  Nabikafu mir['e]ba,\n  Toki kitarurashi.\n\n    [_When I see the water-grasses of the River of Heaven bend\n    in the autumn wind (I think to myself): \"The time (for our\n    meeting) seems to have come.\"_]\n\n    Waga s['e]ko ni\n  Ura-koi or['e]ba,\n    Amanogawa\n  Yo-fun['e] kogi-toyomu\n  Kaji no 'to kikoyu.\n\n    [_When I feel in my heart a sudden longing for my\n    husband_,[17] _then on the River of Heaven the sound of the\n    rowing of the night-boat is heard, and the plash of the oar\n    resounds._]\n\n[Footnote 17: In ancient Japanese the word _s['e]ko_ signified either\nhusband or elder brother. The beginning of the poem might also be\nrendered thus:--\"When I feel a secret longing for my husband,\" etc.]\n\n    T[=o]-zuma to\n  Tamakura kawashi\n    N['e]taru yo wa,\n  Tori-gan['e] na naki\n  Ak['e]ba aku to mo!\n\n    [_In the night when I am reposing with my (now) far-away\n    spouse, having exchanged jewel-pillows_[18] _with her, let not\n    the cock crow, even though the day should dawn._]\n\n[Footnote 18: \"To exchange jewel-pillows\" signifies to use each\nother's arms for pillows. This poetical phrase is often used in\nthe earliest Japanese literature. The word for jewel, _tama_, often\nappears in compounds as an equivalent of \"precious,\" \"dear,\" etc.]\n\n    Yorozu-yo ni\n  Tazusawari it['e]\n    Ai mi-domo,\n  Omoi-sugu-b['e]ki\n  Koi naranaku ni.\n\n    [_Though for a myriad ages we should remain hand-in-hand and\n    face to face, our exceeding love could never come to an end.\n    (Why then should Heaven deem it necessary to part us?)_]\n\n    Waga tam['e] to,\n  Tanabata-tsum['e] no,\n    Sono yado ni,\n  Oreru shirotai\n  Nu[:i]t ken kamo?\n\n    [_The white cloth which Tanabata has woven for my sake, in\n    that dwelling of hers, is now, I think, being made into a robe\n    for me._]\n\n    Shirakumo no\n  I-ho ['e] kakurit['e]\n    T[=o]-k['e]domo,\n  Yo[:i]-sarazu min\n  Imo ga atari wa.\n\n    [_Though she be far-away, and hidden from me by five hundred\n    layers of white cloud, still shall I turn my gaze each night\n    toward the dwelling-place of my younger sister (wife)._]\n\n    Aki sar['e]ba\n  Kawagiri tat['e]ru\n    Amanogawa,\n  Kawa ni muki-it['e]\n  Kru[19] yo zo [=o]ki!\n\n[Footnote 19: For _kofuru_.]\n\n    [_When autumn comes, and the river-mists spread over the\n    Heavenly Stream, I turn toward the river, (and long); and the\n    nights of my longing are many!_]\n\n    Hito-tos['e] ni\n  Nanuka no yo nomi\n    A[:u]-hito no--\n  Ko[:i] mo tsuki-n['e]ba\n  Sayo zo ak['e] ni keru!\n\n    [_But once in the whole year, and only upon the seventh night\n    (of the seventh month), to meet the beloved person--and\n    lo! The day has dawned before our mutual love could express\n    itself!_[20]]\n\n[Footnote 20: Or \"satisfy itself.\" A literal rendering is difficult.]\n\n    Toshi no ko[:i]\n  Koyo[:i] tsukush['i]t['e],\n    Asu yori wa,\n  Tsun['e] no gotoku ya\n  Waga ko[:i] oran.\n\n    [_The love-longing of one whole year having ended to-night,\n    every day from to-morrow I must again pine for him as\n    before!_]\n\n    Hikoboshi to\n  Tanabata-tsum['e] to\n    Koyo[:i] a[:u];--\n  Ama-no-Kawa to ni\n  Nami tatsu-na yum['e]!\n\n    [_Hikoboshi and Tanabata-tsum['e] are to meet each other\n    to-night;--ye waves of the River of Heaven, take heed that ye\n    do not rise!_]\n\n    Aki-kaz['e] no\n  Fuki tadayowasu\n    Shirakumo wa,\n  Tanabata-tsum['e] no\n  Amatsu hir['e] kamo?\n\n    [_Oh! that white cloud driven by the autumn-wind--can it be\n    the heavenly hir['e][21] of Tana-bata-tsum['e]?_]\n\n[Footnote 21: At different times, in the history of Japanese female\ncostume, different articles of dress were called by this name. In\nthe present instance, the _hir['e]_ referred to was probably a white\nscarf, worn about the neck and carried over the shoulders to the\nbreast, where its ends were either allowed to hang loose, or were\ntied into an ornamental knot. The _hir['e]_ was often used to make\nsignals with, much as handkerchiefs are waved to-day for the same\npurpose;--and the question uttered in the poem seems to signify: \"Can\nthat be Tanabata waving her scarf--to call me?\" In very early times,\nthe ordinary costumes worn were white.]\n\n    Shiba-shiba mo\n  Ai minu kimi wo,\n    Amanogawa\n  Funa-d['e] haya s['e]yo\n  Yo no fuk['e]nu ma ni.\n\n    [_Because he is my not-often-to-be-met beloved, hasten to\n    row the boat across the River of Heaven ere the night be\n    advanced._]\n\n    Amanogawa\n  Kiri tachi-watari\n    Hikoboshi no\n  Kaji no 'to kikoyu\n  Yo no fuk['e]-yuk['e]ba.\n\n    [_Late in the night, a mist spreads over_] _the River of\n    Heaven; and the sound of the oar[22] of Hikoboshi is heard._]\n\n[Footnote 22: Or, \"the creaking of the oar.\" (The word _kaji_ to-day\nmeans \"helm\";--the single oar, or scull, working upon a pivot, and\nserving at once for rudder and oar, being now called _ro_.) The mist\npassing across the Amanogawa is, according to commentators, the spray\nfrom the Star-god's oar.]\n\n    Amanogawa\n  Kawa 'to sayak['e]shi:\n    Hikoboshi no\n  Haya kogu fun['e] no\n  Nami no sawagi ka?\n\n    [_On the River of Heaven a sound of plashing can be distinctly\n    heard: is it the sound of the rippling made by Hikoboshi\n    quickly rowing his boat?_]\n\n    Kono y[=u]b['e],\n  Furikuru am['e] wa,\n    Hikoboshi no\n  Haya kogu fun['e] no\n  Ka[:i] no chiri ka mo.\n\n    [_Perhaps this evening shower is but the spray (flung down)\n    from the oar of Hikoboshi, rowing his boat in haste._]\n\n  Waga tama-doko wo\n    Asu yori wa\n    Uchi hara[:i],\n  Kimi to in['e]zut['e]\n  Hitori ka mo nen!\n\n    [_From to-morrow, alas! after having put my jewel-bed in\n    order, no longer reposing with my lord, I must sleep alone!_]\n\n    Kaz['e] fukit['e],\n  Kawa-nami tachinu;--\n    Hiki-fun['e] ni\n  Watari mo kimas['e]\n  Yo no fuk['e]nu ma ni.\n\n    [_The wind having risen, the waves of the river have become\n    high;--this night cross over in a towboat,[23] I pray thee,\n    before the hour be late!_]\n\n[Footnote 23: Lit. \"pull-boat\" (_hiki-fun['e]_),--a barge or boat\npulled by a rope.]\n\n    Amanogawa\n  Nami wa tatsutomo,\n    Waga fun['e] wa\n  Iza kogi iden\n  Yo no fuk['e]nu ma ni.\n\n    [_Even though the waves of the River of_ _Heaven run high, I\n    must row over quickly, before it becomes late in the night._]\n\n    Inishi['e] ni\n  Orit['e]shi hata wo;\n    Kono y[=u]b['e]\n  Koromo ni nu[:i]t['e]--\n  Kimi matsu ar['e] wo!\n\n    [_Long ago I finished weaving the material; and, this evening,\n    having finished sewing the garment for him--(why must) I still\n    wait for my lord?_]\n\n    Amanogawa\n  S['e] wo hayami ka mo?\n    Nubatama no\n  Yo wa fuk['e] ni tsutsu,\n  Awanu Hikoboshi!\n\n[_Is it that the current of the River of_ _Heaven (has become too)\nrapid? The jet-black night[24] advances--and Hikoboshi has not come!_]\n\n[Footnote 24: _Nubatama no yo_ might better be rendered by some such\nphrase as \"the berry-black night,\"--but the intended effect would be\nthus lost in translation. _Nubatama-no_ (a \"pillow-word\") is written\nwith characters signifying \"like the black fruits of _Karasu-[=O]gi_;\"\nand the ancient phrase \"_nubatama no yo_\" therefore may be said\nto have the same meaning as our expressions \"jet-black night,\" or\n\"pitch-dark night.\"]\n\n    Watashi-mori,\n  Fun['e] haya watas['e];--\n    Hito-tos['e] ni\n  Futatabi kay[=o]\n  Kimi naranaku ni!\n\n    [_Oh, ferryman, make speed across the stream!--my lord is not\n    one who can come and go twice in a year!_]\n\n    Aki kaz['e] no\n  Fukinishi hi yori,\n    Amanogawa\n  Kawas['e] ni d['e]dachi;--\n  Matsu to tsug['e] koso!\n\n    [_On the very day that the autumn-wind began to blow, I set\n    out for the shallows of the River of Heaven;--I pray you, tell\n    my lord that I am waiting here still!_]\n\n    Tanabata no\n  Funanori surashi,--\n    Maso-kagami,\n  Kiyoki tsuki-yo ni\n  Kumo tachi-wataru.\n\n    [_Methinks Tanabata must be coming in her boat; for a cloud is\n    even now passing across the clear face of the moon._[25]]\n\n[Footnote 25: Composed by the famous poet [=O]tomo no Sukun['e]\nYakamochi, while gazing at the Milky Way, on the seventh night of\nthe seventh month of the tenth year of Tampy[=o] (A.D. 738). The\npillow-word in the third line (_maso-kagami_) is untranslatable.]\n\n--And yet it has been gravely asserted that the old Japanese poets\ncould find no beauty in starry skies!...\n\nPerhaps the legend of Tanabata, as it was understood by those old\npoets, can make but a faint appeal to Western minds. Nevertheless,\nin the silence of transparent nights, before the rising of the moon,\nthe charm of the ancient tale sometimes descends upon me, out of the\nscintillant sky,--to make me forget the monstrous facts of science,\nand the stupendous horror of Space. Then I no longer behold the Milky\nWay as that awful Ring of the Cosmos, whose hundred million suns are\npowerless to lighten the Abyss, but as the very Amanogawa itself,--the\nRiver Celestial. I see the thrill of its shining stream, and the mists\nthat hover along its verge, and the water-grasses that bend in the\nwinds of autumn. White Orihim['e] I see at her starry loom, and the Ox\nthat grazes on the farther shore;--and I know that the falling dew is\nthe spray from the Herdsman's oar. And the heaven seems very near and\nwarm and human; and the silence about me is filled with the dream of\na love unchanging, immortal,--forever yearning and forever young, and\nforever left unsatisfied by the paternal wisdom of the gods.\n\n\n\n\nGOBLIN POETRY\n\n\nRecently, while groping about an old book shop, I found a collection\nof Goblin Poetry in three volumes, containing many pictures of\ngoblins. The title of the collection is _Ky[=o]ka Hyaku-Monogatari_,\nor \"The Mad Poetry of the _Hyaku-Monogatari_.\" The _Hyaku-Monogatari_,\nor \"Hundred Tales,\" is a famous book of ghost stories. On the subject\nof each of the stories, poems were composed at different times\nby various persons,--poems of the sort called _Ky[=o]ka_, or Mad\nPoetry,--and these were collected and edited to form the three volumes\nof which I became the fortunate possessor. The collecting was done by\na certain Takumi Jingor[=o], who wrote under the literary pseudonym\n\"Temm['e]r R['e][=o]jin\" (Ancient of the Temm['e]r Era). Takumi died\nin the first year of Bunky[=u] (1861), at the good age of eighty;\nand his collection seems to have been published in the sixth year\nof Ka['e][:i] (1853). The pictures were made by an artist called\nMasazumi, who worked under the pseudonym \"Ry[=o]sai Kanjin.\"\n\nFrom a prefatory note it appears that Takumi Jingor[=o] published\nhis collection with the hope of reviving interest in a once popular\nkind of poetry which had fallen into neglect before the middle of\nthe century. The word _ky[=o]ka_ is written with a Chinese character\nsignifying \"insane\" or \"crazy;\" and it means a particular and\nextraordinary variety of comic poetry. The form is that of the classic\n_tanka_ of thirty-one syllables (arranged 57577);--but the subjects\nare always the extreme reverse of classical; and the artistic effects\ndepend upon methods of verbal jugglery which cannot be explained\nwithout the help of numerous examples. The collection published by\nTakumi includes a good deal of matter in which a Western reader can\ndiscover no merit; but the best of it has a distinctly grotesque\nquality that reminds one of Hood's weird cleverness in playing with\ngrim subjects. This quality, and the peculiar Japanese method of\nmingling the playful with the terrific, can be suggested and explained\nonly by reproducing in Romaji the texts of various _ky[=o]ka_, with\ntranslations and notes.\n\nThe selection which I have made should prove interesting, not merely\nbecause it will introduce the reader to a class of Japanese poetry\nabout which little or nothing has yet been written in English, but\nmuch more because it will afford some glimpses of a supernatural world\nwhich still remains for the most part unexplored. Without knowledge\nof Far Eastern superstitions and folk-tales, no real understanding of\nJapanese fiction or drama or poetry will ever become possible.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThere are many hundreds of poems in the three volumes of the _Ky[=o]ka\nHyaku-Monogatari_; but the number of the ghosts and goblins falls\nshort of the one hundred suggested by the title. There are just\nninety-five. I could not expect to interest my readers in the whole\nof this goblinry, and my selection includes less than one seventh\nof the subjects. The Faceless Babe, The Long-Tongued Maiden,\nThe Three-Eyed Monk, The Pillow-Mover, The Thousand Heads, The\nAcolyte-with-the-Lantern, The Stone-that-Cries-in-the-Night,\nThe Goblin-Heron, The Goblin-Wind, The Dragon-Lights, and The\nMountain-Nurse, did not much impress me. I omitted _ky[=o]ka_ dealing\nwith fancies too gruesome for Western nerves,--such as that of the\n_Obum['e]dori_,--also those treating of merely local tradition.\nThe subjects chosen represent national rather than provincial\nfolklore,--old beliefs (mostly of Chinese origin) once prevalent\nthroughout the country, and often referred to in its popular\nliterature.\n\n\nI. KITSUN['E]-BI\n\nThe Will-o'-the-wisp is called _kitsun['e]-bi_ (\"fox-fire\"), because\nthe goblin-fox was formerly supposed to create it. In old Japanese\npictures it is represented as a tongue of pale red flame, hovering\nin darkness, and shedding no radiance upon the surfaces over which it\nglides.\n\nTo understand some of the following _ky[=o]ka_ on the subject, the\nreader should know that certain superstitions about the magical power\nof the fox have given rise to several queer folk-sayings,--one of\nwhich relates to marrying a stranger. Formerly a good citizen was\nexpected to marry within his own community, not outside of it; and the\nman who dared to ignore traditional custom in this regard would have\nfound it difficult to appease the communal indignation. Even to-day\nthe villager who, after a long absence from his birthplace, returns\nwith a strange bride, is likely to hear unpleasant things said,--such\nas: \"_Wakaranai-mono we hippat['e]-kita!... Doko no uma no hon['e] da\nka?_\" (\"Goodness knows what kind of a thing he has dragged here after\nhim! Where did he pick up that old horse-bone?\") The expression _uma\nno hon['e]_, \"old horse-bone,\" requires explanation.\n\nA goblin-fox has the power to assume many shapes; but, for the purpose\nof deceiving _men_, he usually takes the form of a pretty woman. When\nhe wants to create a charming phantom of this kind, he picks up an old\nhorse-bone or cow-bone, and holds it in his mouth. Presently the bone\nbecomes luminous; and the figure of a woman defines about it,--the\nfigure of a courtesan or singing-girl.... So the village query about\nthe man who marries a strange wife, \"What old horse-bone has he picked\nup?\" signifies really, \"What wanton has bewitched him?\" It further\nimplies the suspicion that the stranger may be of outcast blood: a\ncertain class of women of pleasure having been chiefly recruited, from\nancient time, among the daughters of ['E]ta and other pariah-people.\n\n    Hi tomoshit['e]\n  Kitsun['e] no kwas['e]shi,\n    Asobim['e][26] wa--\n  Izuka no uma no\n  Hon['e] ni ya aruran!\n\n[Footnote 26: _Asobim['e]_, a courtesan: lit., \"sporting-woman.\" The\n['E]ta and other pariah classes furnished a large proportion of these\nwomen. The whole meaning of the poem is as follows: \"See that young\nwanton with her lantern! It is a pretty sight--but so is the sight of\na fox, when the creature kindles his goblin-fire and assumes the shape\nof a girl. And just as your fox-woman will prove to be no more than an\nold horse-bone, so that young courtesan, whose beauty deludes men to\nfolly, may be nothing better than an ['E]ta.\"]\n\n    [_--Ah the wanton (lighting her lantern)!--so a fox-fire is\n    kindled in the time of fox-transformation!... Perhaps she is\n    really nothing more than an old horse-bone from somewhere or\n    other...._]\n\n    Kitsun['e]-bi no\n  Moyuru ni tsuk['e]t['e],\n    Waga tama no\n  Kiyuru y[=o] nari\n  Kokoro-hoso-michi!\n\n    [_Because of that Fox-fire burning there, the very soul of me\n    is like to be extinguished in this narrow path (or, in this\n    heart-depressing solitude)._[27]]\n\n[Footnote 27: The supposed utterance of a belated traveler frightened\nby a will-o'-the-wisp. The last line allows of two readings.\n_Kokoro-hosoi_ means \"timid;\" and _hosoi michi_ (_hoso-michi_) means a\n\"narrow path,\" and, by implication, a \"lonesome path.\"]\n\n\nII. RIKOMBY[=O]\n\nThe term _Rikomby[=o]_ is composed with the word _rikon_, signifying\na \"shade,\" \"ghost,\" or \"spectre,\" and the word _by[=o]_, signifying\n\"sickness,\" \"disease.\" An almost literal rendering would be\n\"ghost-sickness.\" In Japanese-English dictionaries you will find the\nmeaning of _Rikomby[=o]_ given as \"hypochondria;\" and doctors really\nuse the term in this modern sense. But the ancient meaning was _a\ndisorder of the mind which produced a Double_; and there is a whole\nstrange literature about this weird disease. It used to be supposed,\nboth in China and Japan, that under the influence of intense grief\nor longing, caused by love, the spirit of the suffering person would\ncreate a Double. Thus the victim of _Rikomby[=o]_ would appear to have\ntwo bodies, exactly alike; and one of these bodies would go to join\nthe absent beloved, while the other remained at home. (In my \"Exotics\nand Retrospectives,\" under the title \"A Question in the Zen Texts,\"\nthe reader will find a typical Chinese story on the subject,--the\nstory of the girl Ts'ing.) Some form of the primitive belief in\ndoubles and wraiths probably exists in every part of the world; but\nthis Far Eastern variety is of peculiar interest because the double\nis supposed to be caused by love, and the subjects of the affliction\nto belong to the gentler sex.... The term _Rikomby[=o]_ seems to be\napplied to the apparition as well as to the mental disorder supposed\nto produce the apparition: it signifies \"doppelg[:a]nger\" as well as\n\"ghost-disease.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n--With these necessary explanations, the quality of the following\n_ky[=o]ka_ can be understood. A picture which appears in the _Ky[=o]ka\nHyaku-Monogatari_ shows a maid-servant anxious to offer a cup of tea\nto her mistress,--a victim of the \"ghost-sickness.\" The servant cannot\ndistinguish between the original and the apparitional shapes before\nher; and the difficulties of the situation are suggested in the first\nof the _ky[=o]ka_ which I have translated:--\n\n    Ko-ya, sor['e] to?\n  Ayam['e] mo wakanu\n    Rikomby[=o]:\n  Izur['e] we tsuma to\n  Hiku zo wazura[:u]!\n\n    [_Which one is this?--which one is that? Between the two\n    shapes of the Rikomby[=o] it is not possible to distinguish.\n    To find out which is the real wife--that will be an affliction\n    of spirit indeed!_]\n\n    Futatsu naki\n  Inochi nagara mo\n    Kak['e]ga[:e] no\n  Karada no miyuru--\n  Kage no wazurai!\n\n    [_Two lives there certainly are not;--nevertheless an extra\n    body is visible, by reason of the Shadow-Sickness._]\n\n    Naga-tabi no\n  Oto we shita[:i]t['e]\n    Mi futatsu ni\n  Naru wa onna no\n  S[=a]ru rikomby[=o].\n\n    [_Yearning after her far-journeying husband, the woman has\n    thus become two bodies, by reason of her ghostly sickness._]\n\n    Miru kag['e] mo\n  Naki wazurai no\n    Rikomby[=o],--\n  Omoi no hoka ni\n  Futatsu miru kag['e]!\n\n    [_Though (it was said that), because of her ghostly sickness,\n    there was not even a shadow of her left to be seen,--yet,\n    contrary to expectation, there are two shadows of her to be\n    seen!_[28]]\n\n[Footnote 28: The Japanese say of a person greatly emaciated by\nsickness, _miru-kag['e] mo naki_: \"Even a visible shadow of him is\nnot!\"--Another rendering is made possible by the fact that the same\nexpression is used in the sense of \"unfit to be seen,\"--\"though the\nface of the person afflicted with this ghostly sickness is unfit to be\nseen, yet by reason of her secret longing [for another man] there are\nnow two of her faces to be seen.\" The phrase _omoi no hoka_, in the\nfourth line, means \"contrary to expectation;\" but it is ingeniously\nmade to suggest also the idea of secret longing.]\n\n    Rikomby[=o]\n  Hito ni kakushit['e]\n    Oku-zashiki,\n  Omot['e] y d[:e]asanu\n  Kag['e] no wazurai.\n\n    [_Afflicted with the Rikomby[=o], she hides away from people\n    in the back room, and never approaches the front of the\n    house,--because of her Shadow-disease._[29]]\n\n[Footnote 29: There is a curious play on words in the fourth line. The\nword _omot['e]_, meaning \"the front,\" might, in reading, be sounded\nas _omott['e]_, \"thinking.\" The verses therefore might also be thus\ntranslated:--\"She keeps her real thoughts hidden in the back part\nof the house, and never allows them to be seen in the front part of\nthe house,--because she is suffering from the 'Shadow-Sickness' [of\nlove].\"]\n\n    Mi wa koko ni;\n  Tama wa otoko ni\n    So[:i]n['e] suru;--\n  Kokoro mo shiraga\n  Haha ga kaih[=o].\n\n    [_Here her body lies; but her soul is far away, asleep in the\n    arms of a man;--and the white-haired mother, little knowing\n    her daughter's heart, is nursing (only the body)._[30]]\n\n[Footnote 30: There is a double meaning, suggested rather than\nexpressed, in the fourth line. The word _shiraga_, \"white-hair,\"\nsuggests _shirazu_, \"not knowing.\"]\n\n    Tamakushig['e]\n  Futatsu no sugata\n    Mis['e]nuru wa,\n  Awas['e]-kagami no\n  Kag['e] no wazurai.\n\n    [_If, when seated before her toilet-stand, she sees two faces\n    reflected in her mirror,--that might be caused by the\n    mirror doubling itself under the influence of the\n    Shadow-Sickness._[31]]\n\n[Footnote 31: There is in this poem a multiplicity of suggestion\nimpossible to render in translation. While making her toilet, the\nJapanese woman uses two mirrors (_awas['e]-kagami_)--one of which, a\nhand-mirror, serves to show her the appearance of the back part of\nher coiffure, by reflecting it into the larger stationary mirror. But\nin this case of Rikomby[=o], the woman sees more than her face and\nthe back of her head in the larger mirror: she sees her own double.\nThe verses indicate that one of the mirrors may have caught the\nShadow-Sickness, and doubled itself. And there is a further suggestion\nof the ghostly sympathy said to exist between a mirror and the soul of\nits possessor.]\n\n\nIII. [=O]-GAMA\n\nIn the old Chinese and Japanese literature the toad is credited with\nsupernatural capacities,--such as the power to call down clouds, the\npower to make rain, the power to exhale from its mouth a magical\nmist which creates the most beautiful illusions. Some toads are good\nspirits,--friends of holy men; and in Japanese art a famous Rishi\ncalled \"Gama-Sennin\" (Toad Rishi) is usually represented with a white\ntoad resting upon his shoulder, or squatting beside him. Some toads\nare evil goblins, and create phantasms for the purpose of luring men\nto destruction. A typical story about a creature of this class will be\nfound in my \"Kott[=o],\" entitled \"The Story of Chug[=o]r[=o].\"\n\n    M['e] wa kagami,\n  Kuchi wa tarai no\n    Hodo ni aku:\n  Gama mo k['e]sh[=o] no\n  Mono to kos[=o] shir['e].\n\n    [_The eye of it, widely open, like a (round) mirror; the mouth\n    of it opening like a wash-basin--by these things you may know\n    that the Toad is a goblin-thing (or, that the Toad is a toilet\n    article)._[32]]\n\n[Footnote 32: There are two Japanese words, _kesh[=o]_, which in\n_kana_ are written alike and pronounced alike, though represented\nby very different Chinese characters. As written in _kana_, the\nterm _kesh[=o]-no-mono_ may signify either \"toilet articles\" or \"a\nmonstrous being,\" \"a goblin.\"]\n\n\nIV. SHINKIR[=O]\n\nThe term _Shinkir[=o]_ is used in the meaning of \"mirage,\" and also as\nanother name for H[=o]rai, the Elf-land of Far Eastern fable. Various\nbeings in Japanese myth are credited with power to delude mortals\nby creating a mirage of H[=o]rai. In old pictures one may see a toad\nrepresented in the act of exhaling from its mouth a vapor that shapes\nthe apparition of H[=o]rai.\n\nBut the creature especially wont to produce this illusion is the\n_Hamaguri_,--a Japanese mollusk much resembling a clam. Opening its\nshell, it sends into the air a purplish misty breath; and that mist\ntakes form and defines, in tints of mother-of-pearl, the luminous\nvision of H[=o]rai and the palace of the Dragon-King.\n\n    Hamaguri no\n  Kuchi aku toki ya,\n    Shinkir[=o]!\n  Yo ni shirar['e] ken\n  Tatsu-no-miya-him['e]!\n\n    [_When the hamaguri opens its mouth--lo! Shinkir[=o]\n    appears!... Then all can clearly see the Maiden-Princess of\n    the Dragon-Palace._]\n\n    Shinkir[=o]--\n  Tatsu no miyako no\n    Hinagata[33] wo\n  Shio-hi no oki ni\n  Misuru hamaguri!\n\n    [_Lo! in the offing at ebb-tide, the hamaguri makes visible\n    the miniature image of Shinkir[=o]--the Dragon-Capital!_]\n\n[Footnote 33: _Hinagata_ means especially \"a model,\" \"a miniature\ncopy,\" \"a drawn plan,\" etc.]\n\n\nV. ROKURO-KUBI\n\nThe etymological meaning of _Rokuro-Kubi_ can scarcely be indicated\nby any English rendering. The term _rokuro_ is indifferently used to\ndesignate many revolving objects--objects as dissimilar as a pulley,\na capstan, a windlass, a turning lathe, and a potter's wheel. Such\nrenderings of Rokuro-Kubi as \"Whirling-Neck\" and \"Rotating-Neck\" are\nunsatisfactory;--for the idea which the term suggests to Japanese\nfancy is that of a neck which revolves, _and lengthens or retracts\naccording to the direction of the revolution_.... As for the ghostly\nmeaning of the expression, a Rokuro-Kubi is either (1) a person whose\nneck lengthens prodigiously during sleep, so that the head can wander\nabout in all directions, seeking what it may devour, or (2) a person\nable to detach his or her head completely from the body, and to rejoin\nit to the neck afterwards. (About this last mentioned variety of\n_Rokuro-Kubi_ there is a curious story in my \"Kwaidan,\" translated\nfrom the Japanese.) In Chinese mythology the being whose neck is so\nconstructed as to allow of the head being completely detached belongs\nto a special class; but in Japanese folk-tale this distinction is not\nalways maintained. One of the bad habits attributed to the Rokuro-Kubi\nis that of drinking the oil in night-lamps. In Japanese pictures the\nRokuro-Kubi is usually depicted as a woman; and old books tell us\nthat a woman might become a Rokuro-Kubi without knowing it,--much as\na somnambulist walks about while asleep, without being aware of the\nfact.... The following verses about the Rokuro-Kubi have been selected\nfrom a group of twenty in the _Ky[=o]ka Hyaku-Monogatari_:--\n\n    Nemidar['e] no\n  Nagaki kami woba\n    Furi-wak['e]t['e],\n  Chi hiro ni nobasu\n  Rokuro-Kubi kana!\n\n    [_Oh!... Shaking loose her long hair disheveled by sleep, the\n    Rokuro-Kubi stretches her neck to the length of a thousand\n    fathoms!_]\n\n    \"Atama naki\n  Bak['e]mono nari\"--to\n    Rokuro-Kubi,\n  Mit['e] odorokan\n  Onoga karada we.\n\n    [_Will not the Rokuro-Kubi, viewing with_ _astonishment her\n    own body (left behind) cry out, \"Oh, what a headless goblin\n    have you become!_\"]\n\n    Tsuka-no-ma ni\n  Hari we tsutawaru,\n    Rokuro-Kubi\n  K['e]ta-k['e]ta warau--\n  Kao no kowasa yo!\n\n    [_Swiftly gliding along the roof-beam (and among the props\n    of the roof), the Rokuro-Kubi laughs with the sound of\n    \"k['e]ta-k['e]ta\"--oh! the fearfulness of her face!_[34]]\n\n[Footnote 34: It is not possible to render all the double meanings in\nthis composition. _Tsuka-no-ma_ signifies \"in a moment\" or \"quickly\";\nbut it may also mean \"in the space [_ma_] between the roof-props\"\n[_tsuka_]. \"_K['e]ta_\" means a cross-beam, but _k['e]ta-k['e]ta warau_\nmeans to chuckle or laugh in a mocking way. Ghosts are said to laugh\nwith the sound of k['e]ta-k['e]ta.]\n\n    Roku shaku no\n  By[=o]bu ni nobiru\n    Rokuro-Kubi\n  Mit['e] wa, go shaku no\n  Mi wo chijimi-k['e]ri!\n\n    [_Beholding the Rokuro-Kubi rise up above the six-foot screen,\n    any five-foot person would have become shortened by fear (or,\n    \"the stature of any person five feet high would have been\n    diminished\")._[35]]\n\n[Footnote 35: The ordinary height of a full screen is six Japanese\nfeet.]\n\n\nVI. YUKI-ONNA\n\nThe Snow-Woman, or Snow-Spectre, assumes various forms; but in most\nof the old folk-tales she appears as a beautiful phantom, whose\nembrace is death. (A very curious story about her can be found in my\n\"Kwaidan.\")\n\n    Yuki-Onna--\n  Yos[=o] kushi mo\n    Atsu k[=o]ri;\n  Sasu-k[=o]gai ya\n  K[=o]ri naruran.\n\n    [_As for the Snow-Woman,--even her best comb, if I mistake\n    not, is made of thick ice; and her hair-pin[36], too, is\n    probably made of ice._]\n\n\n[Footnote 36: _K[=o]gai_ is the name now given to a quadrangular bar\nof tortoise-shell passed under the coiffure, which leaves only the\nends of the bar exposed. The true hair-pin is called _kanzashi_.]\n\n    Honrai wa\n  K[=u] naru mono ka,\n    Yuki-Onna?\n  Yoku-yoku mireba\n  Ichi-butsu mo nashi!\n\n    [_Was she, then, a delusion from the very first, that\n    Snow-Woman,--a thing that vanishes into empty space? When I\n    look carefully all about me, not one trace of her is to be\n    seen!_]\n\n    Yo-ak['e]r['e]ba\n  Ki['e]t['e] yuku ['e] wa\n    Shirayuki[37] no\n  Onna to mishi mo\n  Yanagi nari-keri!\n\n    [_Having vanished at daybreak (that Snow-Woman), none\n    could say whither she had gone. But what had seemed to be a\n    snow-white woman became indeed a willow-tree!_]\n\n[Footnote 37: The term _shirayuki_, as here used, offers an example\nof what Japanese poets call _Keny[=o]gen_, or \"double-purpose words.\"\nJoined to the words immediately following, it makes the phrase\n\"white-snow woman\" (_shirayuki no onna_);--united with the words\nimmediately preceding, it suggests the reading, \"whither-gone\nnot-knowing\" (_yuku ['e] wa shira[zu]_).]\n\n    Yuki-Onna\n  Mit['e] wa yasathiku,\n    Matsu wo ori\n  Nama-dak['e] hishigu\n  Chikara ari-keri!\n\n    [_Though the Snow-Woman appears to sight slender and gentle,\n    yet, to snap the pine-trees asunder and to crush the live\n    bamboos, she must have had strength._]\n\n    Samuk['e]sa ni\n  Zotto[38] wa sur['e]do\n    Yuki-Onna,--\n  Yuki or['e] no naki\n  Yanagi-goshi ka mo!\n\n[_Though the Snow-Woman makes one shiver by her coldness,--ah, the\nwillowy grace of her form cannot be broken by the snow (i.e. charms us\nin spite of the cold)._]\n\n[Footnote 38: _Zotto_ is a difficult word to render literally: perhaps\nthe nearest English equivalent is \"thrilling.\" _Zotto suru_ signifies\n\"to cause a thrill\" or \"to give a shock,\" or \"to make shiver;\"\nand of a very beautiful person it is said \"_Zotto-suru hodo no\nbijin_,\"--meaning! \"She is so pretty that it gives one a shock merely\nto look at her.\" The term _yanagi-goshi_ (\"willow-loins\") in the\nlast line is a common expression designating a slender and graceful\nfigure; and the reader should observe that the first half of the term\nis ingeniously made to do double duty here,--suggesting, with the\ncontext, not only the grace of willow branches weighed down by snow,\nbut also the grace of a human figure that one must stop to admire, in\nspite of the cold.]\n\n\nVII. FUNA-Y[=U]R['E][:I]\n\nThe spirits of the drowned are said to follow after ships, calling for\na bucket or a water-dipper (_hishaku_). To refuse the bucket or the\ndipper is dangerous; but the bottom of the utensil should be knocked\nout before the request is complied with, and the spectres must not\nbe allowed to see this operation performed. If an undamaged bucket or\ndipper be thrown to the ghosts, it will be used to fill and to sink\nthe ship. These phantoms are commonly called _Funa-Y[=u]r['e][:i]_\n(\"Ship-Ghosts\").\n\nThe spirits of those warriors of the H['e][:i]k['e] clan who perished\nin the great sea-fight at Dan-no-ura, in the year 1185, are famous\namong Funa-Y[=u]r['e][:i]. Ta[:i]ra no Tomomori, one of the chiefs of\nthe clan, is celebrated in this weird r[^o]le: old pictures represent\nhim, followed by the ghosts of his warriors, running over the waves to\nattack passing ships. Once he menaced a vessel in which Benk['e][:i],\nthe celebrated retainer of Yoshitsun['e], was voyaging; and\nBenk['e][:i] was able to save the ship only by means of his Buddhist\nrosary, which frightened the spectres away....\n\nTomomori is frequently pictured as walking upon the sea, carrying a\nship's anchor on his back. He and his fellow-ghosts are said to have\nbeen in the habit of uprooting and making off with the anchors\nof vessels imprudently moored in their particular domain,--the\nneighborhood of Shimonos['e]ki.\n\n    Erimoto y['e]\n  Mizu kak['e]raruru\n    Kokochi seri,\n  \"Hishaku kas['e]\" ch[=o]\n  Fun['e] no kowan['e] ni.\n\n    [_As if the nape of our necks had been sprinkled with cold\n    water,--so we felt while listening_ _to the voice of the\n    ship-ghost, saying:--\"Lend me a dipper!\"_[39]]\n\n[Footnote 39: _Hishaku_, a wooden dipper with a long handle, used to\ntransfer water from a bucket to smaller vessels.]\n\n    Y[=u]rei ni\n  Kasu-hishaku yori\n    Ichi-hayaku\n  Onor['e] ga koshi mo\n  Nuk['e]ru sench[=o].\n\n    [_The loins of the captain himself were knocked out very much\n    more quickly than the bottom of the dipper that was to be\n    given to the ghost._[40]]\n\n[Footnote 40: The common expression _Koshi ga nuk['e]ru_ (to have\none's loins taken out) means to be unable to stand up by reason of\nfear. The suggestion is that while the captain was trying to knock\nout the bottom of a dipper, before giving it to the ghost, he fell\nsenseless from fright.]\n\n    Benk['e][:i] no\n  Zuzu no kuriki ni\n    Tomomori no\n  Sugata mo ukamu--\n  Fun['e] no y[=u]r['e][:i].\n\n    [_By the virtue of Benk['e][:i]'s rosary, even_ _the\n    ship-following ghost--even the apparition of Tomomori--is\n    saved._]\n\n    Y[=u]r['e][:i] wa\n  Ki naru Izumi no\n    Hito nagara,\n  A[:o]-umibara ni\n  Nadot['e] itsuran?\n\n    [_Since any ghost must be an inhabitant of the Yellow Springs,\n    how should a ghost appear on the Blue Sea-Plain?_[41]]\n\n[Footnote 41: The Underworld of the Dead--_Yomi_ or K[=o]sen--is\ncalled \"The Yellow Springs;\" these names being written with two\nChinese characters respectively signifying \"yellow\" and \"fountain.\" A\nvery ancient term for the ocean, frequently used in the old Shint[=o]\nrituals, is \"The Blue Sea-Plain.\"]\n\n    Sono sugata,\n  Ikari wo [=o]t['e],\n    Tsuki-mato[:u]\n  Fun['e] no h['e]saki ya\n  Tomomori no r['e][:i]!\n\n    [_That Shape, carrying the anchor on its back, and following\n    after the ship--now at the bow and now at the stern--ah, the\n    ghost of Tomomori._[42]]\n\n[Footnote 42: There is an untranslatable play upon words in the last\ntwo lines. The above rendering includes two possible readings.]\n\n    Tsumi fukaki\n  Umi ni shidzumishi,\n    Y[=u]r['e][:i] no\n  \"Ukaman\" tot['e] ya!\n  Fun['e] ni sugar['e]ru.\n\n    [_Crying, \"Now perchance I shall be saved!\" The ghost\n    that sank into the deep Sea of Sin clings to the passing\n    ship!_[43]]\n\n[Footnote 43: There is more weirdness in this poem than the above\nrendering suggests. The word _ukaman_ in the fourth line can be\nrendered as \"shall perhaps float,\" or as \"shall perhaps be saved\" (in\nthe Buddhist sense of salvation),--as there are two verbs _ukami_.\nAccording to an old superstition, the spirits of the drowned must\ncontinue to dwell in the waters _until such time as they can lure the\nliving to destruction_. When the ghost of any drowned person succeeds\nin drowning somebody, it may be able to obtain rebirth, and to leave\nthe sea forever. The exclamation of the ghost in this poem really\nmeans, \"Now perhaps I shall be able to drown somebody.\" (A very\nsimilar superstition is said to exist on the Breton coast.) A common\nJapanese saying about a child or any person who follows another too\nclosely and persistently is: _Kawa de shinda-y[=u]r['e][:i] no yona\ntsur['e]-hoshigaru!_--\"Wants to follow you everywhere like the ghost\nof a drowned person.\"]\n\n    Ukaman to\n  Fun['e] we shita[:e]ru\n    Yur['e][:i] wa,\n  Shidzumishi h['i]to no\n  Omo[:i] naruran.\n\n    [_The ghosts following after our ship in their efforts to rise\n    again (or, \"to be saved\") might perhaps be the (last vengeful)\n    thoughts of drowned men.[44]]\n\n[Footnote 44: Here I cannot attempt to render the various plays upon\nwords; but the term \"_omo[:i]_\" needs explanation. It means \"thought\"\nor \"thoughts;\" but in colloquial phraseology it is often used as a\neuphemism for a dying person's last desire of vengeance. In various\ndramas it has been used in the signification of \"avenging ghost.\" Thus\nthe exclamation, \"His _thought_ has come back!\"--in reference to a\ndead man--really means: \"His angry ghost appears!\"]\n\n    Uram['e]shiki\n  Sugata wa sugoki\n    Yur['e][:i] no,\n  Kaji we jama suru\n  Fun['e] no Tomomori.\n\n    [_With vengeful aspect, the grisly ghost of Tomomori\n    (rises) at the stern of the ship to hinder the play of her\n    rudder._[45]]\n\n[Footnote 45: There is a double meaning given by the use of the name\n_Tomomori_ in the last line. _Tomo_ means \"the stern\" of a ship;\n_mori_ means \"to leak.\" So the poem suggests that the ghost of\nTomomori not only interferes with the ship's rudder, but causes her to\nleak.]\n\n    Ochi-irit['e],\n  Uwo no ['e]jiki to\n    Nari ni ken;--\n  Funa-y[=u]r['e][:i] mo\n  Nama-kusaki kaz['e].\n\n    [_Having perished in the sea, (those H['e][:i]k['e]) would\n    probably have become food for fishes. (Anyhow, whenever) the\n    ship-following ghosts (appear), the wind has a smell of raw\n    fish!_[46]]\n\n[Footnote 46: _Namakusaki-kaze_ really means a wind having a \"raw\nstench;\" but the smell of bait is suggested by the second line of the\npoem. A literal rendering is not possible in this case; the art of the\ncomposition being altogether suggestive.]\n\n\nVIII. H['E][:I]K['E]GAN[`I]\n\nReaders can find in my \"Kott[=o]\" a paper about the\nH['e][:i]k['e]-Crabs, which have on their upper shells various\nwrinklings that resemble the outlines of an angry face. At\nShimono-s['e]ki dried specimens of these curious creatures are offered\nfor sale.... The H['e][:i]k['e]-Crabs are said to be the transformed\nangry spirits of the H['e][:i]k['e] warriors who perished at\nDan-no-ura.\n\n    Shiwo-hi ni wa\n  S['e][:i]zoro[:e] shit['e],\n    H['e][:i]k['e]gani\n  Ukiyo no sama we\n  Yoko ni niramitsu.\n\n    [_Marshaled (on the beach) at the ebb of the tide, the\n    H['e][:i]k['e]-crabs obliquely glare at the apparition of this\n    miserable world._[47]]\n\n[Footnote 47: _Hi_, the third syllable of the first line of the poem,\ndoes duty for _hi_, signifying \"ebb,\" and for _hikata_, \"dry beach.\"\n_S['e][:i]zoro[:e]_ is a noun signifying \"battle-array\"--in the sense\nof the Roman term _acies_;--and _s['e][:i]zoro['e] shit['e]_ means\n\"drawn up in battle-array.\"]\n\n    Saikai ni\n  Shizumi-nur['e]domo,\n    H['e][:i]k['e]gani\n  K[=o]ra no iro mo\n  Yahari aka-hata.\n\n    [_Though (the H['e][:i]k['e]) long ago sank and perished in\n    the Western Sea, the H['e][:i]k['e]-crabs still display_ _upon\n    their upper shells the color of the Red Standard._[48]]\n\n[Footnote 48: The ensign of the H['e][:i]k['e], or Ta[:i]ra clan was\nred; while that of their rivals, the Genji or Minamot[=o], was white.]\n\n    Mak['e]-ikusa\n  Munen to mun['e] ni\n    Hasami ken;--\n  Kao mo makka ni\n  Naru H['e][:i]k['e]gani.\n\n    [_Because of the pain of defeat, claws have grown on their\n    breasts, I think;--even the faces of the H['e][:i]k['e]-crabs\n    have become crimson (with anger and shame)._]\n\n    Mikata mina\n  Oshi-tsubusar['e]shi\n    H['e][:i]k['e]gani\n  Ikon we mun['e] ni\n  Hasami mochik['e]ri.\n\n    [_All the (H['e][:i]k['e]) party having been utterly crushed,\n    claws have grown upon the breasts of the H['e][:i]k['e]-crabs\n    because of the resentment in their hearts._[49]]\n\n[Footnote 49: The use of the word _hasami_ in the fifth line is a\nvery good example of _keny[=o]gen_. There is a noun _hasami_, meaning\nthe nippers of a crab, or a pair of scissors; and there is a verb\n_hasami_, meaning to harbor, to cherish, or to entertain. (_Ikon wo\nhasamu_ means \"to harbor resentment against.\") Reading the word only\nin connection with those which follow it, we have the phrase _hasami\nmochik['e]ri_, \"got claws;\" but, reading it with the words preceding,\nwe have the expression _ikon wo mun['e] ni hasami_, \"resentment in\ntheir breasts nourishing.\"]\n\n\nIX. YANARI\n\nModern dictionaries ignore the uncanny significations of the word\n_Yanari_,--only telling us that it means the sound of the shaking of\na house during an earthquake. But the word used to mean the noise of\nthe shaking of a house moved by a goblin; and the invisible shaker was\nalso called _Yanari_. When, without apparent cause, some house would\nshudder and creak and groan in the night, folk used to suppose that it\nwas being shaken from without by supernatural malevolence.\n\n    Tokonoma ni\n  Ik['e]shi tachiki mo\n    Taor['e]-keri;\n  Yanari ni yama no\n  Ugoku kak['e]mono!\n\n    [_Even the live tree set in the alcove has fallen down; and\n    the mountains in the hanging picture tremble to the quaking\n    made by the Yanari!_[50]]\n\n[Footnote 50: The _tokonoma_ in a Japanese room is a sort of\nornamental recess or alcove, in which a picture is usually hung, and\nvases of flowers, or a dwarf tree, are placed.]\n\n\nX. SAKASA-BASHIRA\n\nThe term _Sakasa-bashira_ (in these _ky[=o]ka_ often shortened into\n_saka-bashira_) literally means \"upside-down post.\" A wooden post or\npillar, especially a house-post, should be set up according to the\noriginal position of the tree from which it was hewn,--that is to say,\nwith the part nearest to the roots downward. To erect a house-post in\nthe contrary way is thought to be unlucky;--formerly such a blunder\nwas believed to involve unpleasant consequences of a ghostly kind,\nbecause an \"upside-down\" pillar would do malignant things. It would\nmoan and groan in the night, and move all its cracks like mouths, and\nopen all its knots like eyes. Moreover, the spirit of it (for every\nhouse-post has a spirit) would detach its long body from the timber,\nand wander about the rooms, head-downwards, making faces at people.\nNor was this all. A _Sakasa-bashira_ knew how to make all the affairs\nof a household go wrong,--how to foment domestic quarrels,--how to\ncontrive misfortune for each of the family and the servants,--how\nto render existence almost insupportable until such time as the\ncarpenter's blunder should be discovered and remedied.\n\n    Saka-bashira\n  Tat['e]shi wa tazo ya?\n    Kokoro ni mo\n  Fushi aru hito no\n  Shiwaza naruran.\n\n    [_Who set the house-pillar upside-down? Surely that must have\n    been the work of a man with a knot in his heart._]\n\n    Hidayama we\n  Kiri-kit['e] tat['e]shi\n    Saka-bashira--\n  Nanno takumi[51] no\n  Shiwaza naruran?\n\n    [_That house-pillar hewn in the mountains of Hida, and thence\n    brought here and erected upside-down--what carpenter's work\n    can it be? (or, \"for what evil design can this deed have been\n    done?\")_]\n\n[Footnote 51: The word _takumi_, as written in _kana_, may signify\neither \"carpenter\" or \"intrigue,\" \"evil plot,\" \"wicked device.\" Thus\ntwo readings are possible. According to one reading, the post was\nfixed upside-down through inadvertence; according to the other, it was\nso fixed with malice prepense.]\n\n    U[:e] shita wo\n  Chiga[:e]t['e] tat['e]shi\n    Hashira ni wa\n  Sakasama-goto no\n  Ur['e][:i] aranan.\n\n    [_As for that house-pillar mistakenly planted upside-down, it\n    will certainly cause adversity and sorrow._[52]]\n\n[Footnote 52: Lit., \"upside-down-matter-sorrow.\" _Sakasama-goto_,\n\"up-side-down affair,\" is a common expression for calamity,\ncontrariety, adversity, vexation.]\n\n    Kab['e] ni mimi\n  Arit['e], kik['e] to ka?\n    Sakashima ni\n  Tateshi hashira ni\n  Yanari suru oto!\n\n    [_O Ears that be in the wall![53] listen, will ye? to the\n    groaning and the creaking of the house-post that was planted\n    upside-down!_]\n\n[Footnote 53: Alluding to the proverb, _Kab['e] ni mimi ari_ (\"There\nare ears in the wall\"), which signifies: \"Be careful how you talk\nabout other people, even in private.\"]\n\n    Uri-iy['e] no\n  Aruji we to[:e]ba,\n    Oto arit['e]:\n  War['e] m['e] ga kuchi wo\n  Aku saka-bashira.\n\n    [_When I inquired for the master of the house that was\n    for sale, there came to me only a strange sound by way of\n    reply,--the sound of the upside-down house-post opening its\n    eyes and mouth![54] (i.e. its cracks)._]\n\n[Footnote 54: There is a pun in the fourth line which suggests more\nthan even a free translation can express. _War['e]_ means \"I,\" or\n\"mine,\" or \"one's own,\" etc., according to circumstances; and _war['e]\nm['e]_ (written separately) might be rendered \"its own eyes.\" But\n_war['e]m['e]_ (one word) means a crack, rent, split, or fissure. The\nreader should remember that the term _saka-bashira_ means not only\n\"upside-down post,\" but also the goblin or spectre of the upside-down\npost.]\n\n    Omo[:i]kiya!\n  Sakasa-bashira no\n    Hashira-kak['e]\n  Kakinishit uta mo\n  Yamai ari to wa!\n\n    [_Who could have thought it!--even the poem inscribed upon\n    the pillar-tablet, attached to the pillar which was planted\n    upside-down, has taken the same (ghostly) sickness._[55]]\n\n[Footnote 55: That is to say, \"Even the poem on the tablet is\nup-side-down,\"--all wrong. _Hashira-kak['e]_ (\"pillar-suspended\nthing\") is the name given to a thin tablet of fine wood, inscribed or\npainted, which is hung to a post by way of ornament.]\n\n\nXI. BAK['E]-JIZ[:O]\n\nThe figure of the Bodhi-sattva Jiz[:o], the savior of children's\nghosts, is one of the most beautiful and humane in Japanese Buddhism.\nStatues of this divinity may be seen in almost every village and by\nevery roadside. But some statues of Jiz[:o] are said to do uncanny\nthings--such as to walk about at night in various disguises. A statue\nof this kind is called a _Bak['e]-Jiz[=o]_[56],--meaning a Jiz[=o];\nthat undergoes transformation. A conventional picture shows a little\nboy about to place the customary child's-offering of rice-cakes before\nthe stone image of Jiz[=o],--not suspecting that the statue moves, and\nis slowly bending down towards him.\n\n[Footnote 56: Perhaps the term might be rendered \"Shape-changing\nJiz[=o].\" The verb _bak['e]ru_ means to change shape, to undergo\nmetamorphosis, to haunt, and many other supernatural things.]\n\n    Nanig['e] naki\n  Ishi no Jiz[=o] no\n    Sugata sa[:e],\n  Yo wa osoroshiki\n  Mikag['e] to zo naki.\n\n    [_Though the stone Jiz[=o] looks as if nothing were the matter\n    with it, they say that at night it assumes an awful aspect\n    (or, \"Though this image appears to be a common stone Jiz[=o],\n    they say that at night it becomes an awful Jiz[=o]; of\n    granite.\"_[57])]\n\n[Footnote 57: The Japanese word for granite is _mikag['e]_; and there\nis also an honorific term _mikag['e]_, applied to divinities and\nemperors, which signifies \"august aspect,\" \"sacred presence,\" etc....\nNo literal rendering can suggest the effect, in the fifth line, of\nthe latter reading. _Kag['e]_ signifies \"shadow,\" \"aspect,\" and\n\"power\"--especially occult power; the honorific prefix _mi_, attached\nto names and attributes of divinities, may be rendered \"august.\"]\n\n\nXII. UMI-B[=O]ZU\n\nPlace a large cuttlefish on a table, body upwards and tentacles\ndownwards--and you will have before you the grotesque reality that\nfirst suggested the fancy of the _Umi-B[=o]zu_, or Priest of the Sea.\nFor the great bald body in this position, with the staring eyes below,\nbears a distorted resemblance to the shaven head of a priest; while\nthe crawling tentacles underneath (which are in some species united\nby a dark web) suggests the wavering motion of the priest's upper\nrobe.... The Umi-B[=o]zu figures a good deal in the literature of\nJapanese goblinry, and in the old-fashioned picture-books. He rises\nfrom the deep in foul weather to seize his prey.\n\n    Ita hito[:e]\n  Shita wa Jigoku ni,\n    Sumizom['e] no\n  B[=o]zu no umi ni\n  D['e]ru mo ayashina!\n\n    [_Since there is but the thickness of a single plank (between\n    the voyager and the sea), and underneath is Hell, 'tis indeed\n    a weird thing that a black-robed priest should rise from\n    the sea (or, \"'tis surely a marvelous happening that,\"\n    etc.!_[58])]\n\n[Footnote 58: The puns are too much for me.... _Ayashii_ means\n\"suspicious,\" \"marvelous,\" \"supernatural,\" \"weird,\" \"doubtful.\"--In\nthe first two lines there is a reference to the Buddhist proverb:\n_Funa-ita ichi-mai shita wa Jigoku_ (\"under the thickness of a single\nship's-plank is Hell\"). (See my _Gleanings in Buddha-Fields_, p. 206,\nfor another reference to this saying.)]\n\n\nXIII. FUDA-H['E]GASHI[59]\n\nHomes are protected from evil spirits by holy texts and charms. In any\nJapanese village, or any city by-street, you can see these texts when\nthe sliding-doors are closed at night: they are not visible by day,\nwhen the sliding-doors have been pushed back into the _tobukuro_.\nSuch texts are called _o-fuda_ (august scripts): they are written in\nChinese characters upon strips of white paper, which are attached\nto the door with rice-paste; and there are many kinds of them. Some\nare texts selected from sutras--such as the S[^u]tra of Transcendent\nWisdom (Prag[~n]a-P[^a]ramit[^a]-Hridaya-S[^u]tra), or the S[^u]tra\nof the Lotos of the Good Law (Saddharma-Pundarik[^a]-S[^u]tra). Some\nare texts from the dh[^a]ran[^i]s,--which are magical. Some are\ninvocations only, indicating the Buddhist sect of the household....\nBesides these you may see various smaller texts, or little prints,\npasted above or beside windows or apertures,--some being names of\nShinto gods; others, symbolical pictures only, or pictures of Buddhas\nand Bodhi-sattvas. All are holy charms,--_o-fuda_: they protect the\nhouses; and no goblin or ghost can enter by night into a dwelling so\nprotected, unless the _o-fuda_ be removed.\n\n[Footnote 59: _H['e]gashi_ is the causative form of the verb\n_h['e]gu_, \"to pull off,\" \"peel off,\" \"strip off,\" \"split off.\" The\nterm _Fuda-h['e]gashi_ signifies \"Make-peel-off-august-charm Ghost.\"\nIn my _Ghostly Japan_ the reader can find a good Japanese story about\na _Fuda-h['e]gashi_.]\n\nVengeful ghosts cannot themselves remove an _o-fuda_; but they will\nendeavor by threats or promises or bribes to make some person remove\nit for them. A ghost that wants to have the _o-fuda_ pulled off a door\nis called a _Fuda-h['e]gashi_.\n\n    H['e]gasan to\n  Rokuji-no-fuda wo,\n    Yur['e][:i] mo\n  Nam'mai d[=a] to\n  Kazo[:e]t['e] zo mini.\n\n    [_Even the ghost that would remove the charms written with six\n    characters actually tries to count them, repeating: \"How many\n    sheets are there?\" (or, repeating, \"Hail to thee, O Buddha\n    Amit['a]bha!\"[60])_]\n\n[Footnote 60: The fourth line gives these two readings:--\n\n_Nam'mai da?_--\"How many sheets are there?\"\n\n_Nam[u] A[m]ida!_--\"Hail, O Amit[^a]bha!\"\n\nThe invocation, _Namu Amida Butsu_, is chiefly used by members of the\ngreat Shin sect; but it is also used by other sects, and especially in\npraying for the dead. While repeating it, the person praying numbers\nthe utterances upon his Buddhist rosary; and this custom is suggested\nby the use of the word _kazo[:e]t['e]_, \"counting.\"]\n\n    Tada ichi no\n  Kami no o-fuda wa\n    Sasuga ni mo\n  Norik['e] naku to mo\n  H['e]gashi kan['e]k['e]ri.\n\n    [_Of the august written-charms of the god (which were pasted\n    upon the walls of the house), not even one could by any effort\n    be pulled off, though the rice-paste with which they had been\n    fastened was all gone._]\n\n\nXIV. FURU-TSUBAKI\n\nThe old Japanese, like the old Greeks, had their flower-spirits and\ntheir hamadryads, concerning whom some charming stories are told. They\nalso believed in trees inhabited by malevolent beings,--goblin trees.\nAmong other weird trees, the beautiful _tsubaki_ (_Camellia Japonica_)\nwas said to be an unlucky tree;--this was said, at least, of the\nred-flowering variety, the white-flowering kind having a better\nreputation and being prized as a rarity. The large fleshy crimson\nflowers have this curious habit: they detach themselves bodily from\nthe stem, when they begin to fade; and they fall with an audible thud.\nTo old Japanese fancy the falling of these heavy red flowers was like\nthe falling of human heads under the sword; and the dull sound of\ntheir dropping was said to be like the thud made by a severed head\nstriking the ground. Nevertheless the tsubaki seems to have been\na favorite in Japanese gardens because of the beauty of its glossy\nfoliage; and its flowers were used for the decoration of alcoves. But\nin samurai homes it was a rule never to place tsubaki-flowers in an\nalcove _during war-time_.\n\nThe reader will notice that in the following _ky[=o]ka_--which, as\ngrotesques, seem to me the best in the collection--the goblin-tsubaki\nis called _furu-tsubaki_, \"old tsubaki.\" The young tree was not\nsupposed to have goblin-propensities,--these being developed only\nafter many years. Other uncanny trees--such as the willow and the\n_['e]noki_--were likewise said to become dangerous only as they became\nold; and a similar belief prevailed on the subject of uncanny animals,\nsuch as the cat--innocent in kittenhood, but devilish in age.\n\n    Yo-arashi ni\n  Chishiho itadaku\n    Furu tsubaki,\n  Hota-hota ochiru\n  Hana no nama-kubi.\n\n    [_When by the night-storm is shaken the blood-crowned and\n    ancient tsubaki-tree, then one by one fall the gory heads of\n    the flowers, (with the sound of) hota-hota!_[61]]\n\n[Footnote 61: The word _furu_ in the third line is made to do double\nduty,--as the adjective, _furu[i]_, \"ancient\"; and as the verb _furu_,\n\"to shake.\" The old term _nama-kuhi_ (lit., \"raw head\") means a human\nhead, freshly-severed, from which the blood is still oozing.]\n\n    Kusa mo ki mo\n  N['e]mur['e]ru koro no\n    Sayo kaz['e] ni,\n  M['e]hana no ugoku\n  Furu-tsubaki kana!\n\n    [_When even the grass and the trees are sleeping under the\n    faint wind of the night,--then do the eyes and the noses of\n    the old tsubaki-tree (or \"the buds and the flowers of the old\n    tsubaki-tree\") move!_[62]]\n\n[Footnote 62: Two Japanese words are written, in _kana_, as\n\"m['e]\"--one meaning \"a bud;\" the other \"eye.\" The syllables \"hana\" in\nlike fashion, may signify either \"flower\" or \"nose.\" As a grotesque,\nthis little poem is decidedly successful.]\n\n    Tomoshibi no\n  Kag['e] ayashig['e] ni\n    Miy['e]nuru wa\n  Abura shiborishi\n  Furu-tsubaki ka-mo?\n\n    [_As for (the reason why) the light of that lamp appears to be\n    a Weirdness,[63]--perhaps the oil was expressed from (the nuts\n    of) the ancient tsu-baki?_]\n\n[Footnote 63: _Ayashig['e]_ is a noun formed from the adjective\n_ayashi_, \"suspicious,\" \"strange,\" \"supernatural,\" \"doubtful.\" The\nword _kag['e]_ signifies both \"light\" and \"shadow,\"--and is here used\nwith double suggestiveness. The vegetable oil used in the old Japanese\nlamps used to be obtained from the nuts of the _tsubaki_. The reader\nshould remember that the expression \"ancient tsubaki\" is equivalent to\nthe expression \"goblin-tsubaki,\"--the tsubaki being supposed to turn\ninto a goblin-tree only when it becomes old.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n--Nearly all the stories and folk-beliefs about which these _ky[=o]ka_\nwere written seem to have come from China; and most of the Japanese\ntales of tree-spirits appear to have had a Chinese origin. As the\nflower-spirits and hamadryads of the Far East are as yet little\nknown to Western readers, the following Chinese story may be found\ninteresting.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThere was a Chinese scholar--called, in Japanese books, T[=o] no\nBusanshi--who was famous for his love of flowers. He was particularly\nfond of peonies, and cultivated them with great skill and\npatience.[64]\n\n[Footnote 64: The tree-peony (_botan_) is here referred to,--a flower\nmuch esteemed in Japan. It is said to have been introduced from China\nduring the eighth century; and no less than five hundred varieties of\nit are now cultivated by Japanese gardeners.]\n\nOne day a very comely girl came to the house of Busanshi, and begged\nto be taken into his service. She said that circumstances obliged\nher to seek humble employment, but that she had received a literary\neducation, and therefore wished to enter, if possible, into the\nservice of a scholar. Busanshi was charmed by her beauty, and took her\ninto his household without further questioning. She proved to be much\nmore than a good domestic: indeed, the nature of her accomplishments\nmade Busanshi suspect that she had been brought up in the court of\nsome prince, or in the palace of some great lord. She displayed\na perfect knowledge of the etiquette and the polite arts which\nare taught only to ladies of the highest rank; and she possessed\nastonishing skill in calligraphy, in painting, and in every kind of\npoetical composition. Busanshi presently fell in love with her, and\nthought only of how to please her. When scholar-friends or other\nvisitors of importance came to the house, he would send for the new\nmaid that she might entertain and wait upon his guests; and all who\nsaw her were amazed by her grace and charm.\n\nOne day Busanshi received a visit from the great Teki-Shin-Ketsu, a\nfamous teacher of moral doctrine; and the maid did not respond to her\nmaster's call. Busanshi went himself to seek her, being desirous that\nTeki-Shin-Ketsu should see her and admire her; but she was nowhere to\nbe found. After having searched the whole house in vain, Busanshi was\nreturning to the guest-room when he suddenly caught sight of the maid,\ngliding soundlessly before him along a corridor. He called to her, and\nhurried after her. Then she turned half-round, and flattened herself\nagainst the wall like a spider; and as he reached her she sank\nbackwards into the wall, so that there remained of her nothing visible\nbut a colored shadow,--level like a picture painted on the plaster.\nBut the shadow moved its lips and eyes, and spoke to him in a whisper,\nsaying:--\n\n\"Pardon me that I did not obey your august call!... I am not a\nmankind-person;--I am only the Soul of a Peony. Because you loved\npeonies so much, I was able to take human shape, and to serve you.\nBut now this Teki-Shin-Ketsu has come,--and he is a person of dreadful\npropriety,--and I dare not keep this form any longer.... I must return\nto the place from which I came.\"\n\nThen she sank back into the wall, and vanished altogether: there was\nnothing where she had been except the naked plaster. And Busanshi\nnever saw her again.\n\nThis story is written in a Chinese book which the Japanese call\n\"Kai-ten-i-ji.\"\n\n\n\n\n\"ULTIMATE QUESTIONS\"\n\n\nA memory of long ago.... I am walking upon a granite pavement that\nrings like iron, between buildings of granite bathed in the light of\na cloudless noon. Shadows are short and sharp: there is no stir in\nthe hot bright air; and the sound of my footsteps, strangely loud, is\nthe only sound in the street.... Suddenly an odd feeling comes to me,\nwith a sort of tingling shock,--a feeling, or suspicion, of universal\nillusion. The pavement, the bulks of hewn stone, the iron rails,\nand all things visible, are dreams! Light, color, form, weight,\nsolidity--all sensed existences--are but phantoms of being,\nmanifestations only of one infinite ghostliness for which the language\nof man has not any word....\n\nThis experience had been produced by study of the first volume of\nthe Synthetic Philosophy, which an American friend had taught me\nhow to read. I did not find it easy reading; partly because I am a\nslow thinker, but chiefly because my mind had never been trained to\nsustained effort in such directions. To learn the \"First Principles\"\noccupied me many months: no other volume of the series gave me equal\ntrouble. I would read one section at a time,--rarely two,--never\nventuring upon a fresh section until I thought that I had made sure\nof the preceding. Very cautious and slow my progress was, like that\nof a man mounting, for the first time, a long series of ladders in\ndarkness. Reaching the light at last, I caught a sudden new vision of\nthings,--a momentary perception of the illusion of surfaces,--and from\nthat time the world never again appeared to me quite the same as it\nhad appeared before.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n--This memory of more than twenty years ago, and the extraordinary\nthrill of the moment, were recently revived for me by the reading of\nthe essay \"Ultimate Questions,\" in the last and not least precious\nvolume bequeathed us by the world's greatest thinker. The essay\ncontains his final utterance about the riddle of life and death,\nas that riddle presented itself to his vast mind in the dusk of a\nlifetime of intellectual toil. Certainly the substance of what he had\nto tell us might have been inferred from the Synthetic Philosophy;\nbut the particular interest of this last essay is made by the writer's\nexpression of personal sentiment regarding the problem that troubles\nall deep thinkers. Perhaps few of us could have remained satisfied\nwith his purely scientific position. Even while fully accepting his\ndeclaration of the identity of the power that \"wells up in us under\nthe form of consciousness\" with that Power Unknowable which shapes\nall things, most disciples of the master must have longed for some\nchance to ask him directly, \"But how do _you_ feel in regard to\nthe prospect of personal dissolution?\" And this merely emotional\nquestion he has answered as frankly and as fully as any of us could\nhave desired,--perhaps even more frankly. \"Old people,\" he remarks\napologetically, \"must have many reflections in common. Doubtless\none which I have now in mind is very familiar. For years past, when\nwatching the unfolding buds in the spring, there has arisen the\nthought, 'Shall I ever again see the buds unfold? Shall I ever again\nbe awakened at dawn by the song of the thrush?' Now that the end is\nnot likely to be long postponed, there results an increasing tendency\nto meditate upon ultimate questions.\"... Then he tells us that these\nultimate questions--\"of the How and the Why, of the Whence and the\nWhither\"--occupy much more space in the minds of those who cannot\naccept the creed of Christendom, than the current conception fills\nin the minds of the majority of men. The enormity of the problem of\nexistence becomes manifest only to those who have permitted themselves\nto think freely and widely and deeply, with all such aids to thought\nas exact science can furnish; and the larger the knowledge of the\nthinker, the more pressing and tremendous the problem appears, and the\nmore hopelessly unanswerable. To Herbert Spencer himself it must have\nassumed a vastness beyond the apprehension of the average mind; and\nit weighed upon him more and more inexorably the nearer he approached\nto death. He could not avoid the conviction--plainly suggested in his\nmagnificent Psychology and in other volumes of his great work--that\nthere exists no rational evidence for any belief in the continuance of\nconscious personality after death:--\n\n    \"After studying primitive beliefs, and finding that there is\n    no origin for the idea of an after-life, save the conclusion\n    which the savage draws, from the notion suggested by dreams,\n    of a wandering double which comes back on awaking, and\n    which goes away for an indefinite time at death;--and after\n    contemplating the inscrutable relation between brain and\n    consciousness, and finding that we can get no evidence of the\n    existence of the last without the activity of the first,--we\n    seem obliged to relinquish the thought that consciousness\n    continues after physical organization has become inactive.\"\n\nIn this measured utterance there is no word of hope; but there is\nat least a carefully stated doubt, which those who will may try\nto develop into the germ of a hope. The guarded phrase, \"we _seem_\nobliged to relinquish,\" certainly suggests that, although in the\npresent state of human knowledge we have no reason to believe in the\nperpetuity of consciousness, some larger future knowledge might help\nus to a less forlorn prospect. From the prospect as it now appears\neven this mightiest of thinkers recoiled:--\n\n    ... \"But it seems a strange and repugnant conclusion that with\n    the cessation of consciousness at death there ceases to be any\n    knowledge of having existed. With his last breath it becomes\n    to each the same thing as though he had never lived.\n\n    \"And then the consciousness itself--what is it during the time\n    that it continues? And what becomes of it when it ends? We can\n    only infer that it is a specialized and individualized form\n    of that Infinite and Eternal Energy which transcends both our\n    knowledge and our imagination; and that at death its elements\n    lapse into that Infinite and Eternal Energy whence they were\n    derived.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n--_With his last breath it becomes to each the same thing as though\nhe had never lived?_ To the individual, perhaps--surely not to the\nhumanity made wiser and better by his labors.... But the world must\npass away: will it thereafter be the same for the universe as if\nhumanity had never existed? That might depend upon the possibilities\nof future inter-planetary communication.... But the whole universe\nof suns and planets must also perish: thereafter will it be the\nsame as if no intelligent life had ever toiled and suffered upon\nthose countless worlds? We have at least the certainty that the\nenergies of life cannot be destroyed, and the strong probability\nthat they will help to form another life and thought in universes\nyet to be evolved.... Nevertheless, allowing for all imagined\npossibilities,--granting even the likelihood of some inapprehensible\nrelation between all past and all future conditioned-being,--the\ntremendous question remains: What signifies the whole of apparitional\nexistence to the Unconditioned? As flickers of sheet-lightning leave\nno record in the night, so in that Darkness a million billion trillion\nuniverses might come and go, and leave no trace of their having been.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTo every aspect of the problem Herbert Spencer must have given\nthought; but he has plainly declared that the human intellect, as at\npresent constituted, can offer no solution. The greatest mind that\nthis world has yet produced--the mind that systematized all human\nknowledge, that revolutionized modern science, that dissipated\nmaterialism forever, that revealed to us the ghostly unity of all\nexistence, that reestablished all ethics upon an immutable and eternal\nfoundation,--the mind that could expound with equal lucidity, and by\nthe same universal formula, the history of a gnat or the history of a\nsun--confessed itself, before the Riddle of Existence, scarcely less\nhelpless than the mind of a child.\n\nBut for me the supreme value of this last essay is made by the fact\nthat in its pathetic statement of uncertainties and probabilities one\ncan discern something very much resembling a declaration of faith.\nThough assured that we have yet no foundation for any belief in the\npersistence of consciousness after the death of the brain, we are\nbidden to remember that the ultimate nature of consciousness remains\ninscrutable. Though we cannot surmise the relation of consciousness\nto the unseen, we are reminded that it must be considered as a\nmanifestation of the Infinite Energy, and that its elements, if\ndissociated by death, will return to the timeless and measureless\nSource of Life.... Science to-day also assures us that whatever\nexistence has been--all individual life that ever moved in animal\nor plant,--all feeling and thought that ever stirred in human\nconsciousness--must have flashed self-record beyond the sphere of\nsentiency; and though we cannot know, we cannot help imagining that\nthe best of such registration may be destined to perpetuity. On this\nlatter subject, for obvious reasons, Herbert Spencer has remained\nsilent; but the reader may ponder a remarkable paragraph in the final\nsixth edition of the \"First Principles,\"--a paragraph dealing with\nthe hypothesis that consciousness may belong to the cosmic ether.\nThis hypothesis has not been lightly dismissed by him; and even while\nproving its inadequacy, he seems to intimate that it may represent\nimperfectly some truth yet inapprehensible by the human mind:--\n\n    \"The only supposition having consistency is that that in which\n    consciousness inheres is the all-pervading ether. This we\n    know can be affected by molecules of matter in motion, and\n    conversely can affect the motions of molecules;--as witness\n    the action of light on the retina. In pursuance of this\n    supposition we may assume that the ether, which pervades not\n    only all space but all matter, is, under special conditions\n    in certain parts of the nervous system, capable of being\n    affected by the nervous changes in such way as to result in\n    feeling, and is reciprocally capable under these conditions\n    of affecting the nervous changes. But if we accept this\n    explanation, we must assume that the potentiality of feeling\n    is universal, and that the evolution of feeling in the ether\n    takes place only under the extremely complex conditions\n    occurring in certain nervous centres. This, however, is but a\n    semblance of an explanation, since we know not what the ether\n    is, and since, by confession of those most capable of judging,\n    no hypothesis that has been framed accounts for all its\n    powers. Such an explanation may be said to do no more\n    than symbolize the phenomena by symbols of unknown\n    natures.\"--[\"First Principles,\" [Section] 71 _c_, definitive\n    edition of 1900.]\n\n    --\"Inscrutable is this complex consciousness which has\n    slowly evolved out of infantine vacuity--consciousness\n    which, in other shapes, is manifested by animate beings at\n    large--consciousness which, during the development of every\n    creature, makes its appearance out of what seems unconscious\n    matter; _suggesting the thought that consciousness, in some\n    rudimentary form, is omnipresent._\"[65]\n\n[Footnote 65: _Autobiography_, vol. ii, p. 470.]\n\n--Of all modern thinkers, Spencer was perhaps the most careful to\navoid giving encouragement to any hypothesis unsupported by powerful\nevidence. Even the simple sum of his own creed is uttered only,\nwith due reservation, as a statement of three probabilities: that\nconsciousness represents a specialized and individualized form of the\ninfinite Energy; that it is dissolved by death; and that its elements\nthen return to the source of all being. As for our mental attitude\ntoward the infinite Mystery, his advice is plain. We must resign\nourselves to the eternal law, and endeavor to vanquish our ancient\ninheritance of superstitious terrors, remembering that, \"merciless as\nis the Cosmic process worked out by an Unknown Power, yet vengeance is\nnowhere to be found in it.\"[66]\n\n[Footnote 66: _Facts and Comments_, p. 201.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn the same brief essay there is another confession of singular\ninterest,--an acknowledgment of the terror of Space. To even the\nordinary mind, the notion of infinite Space, as forced upon us by\nthose monstrous facts of astronomy which require no serious study\nto apprehend, is terrifying;--I mean the mere vague idea of that\neverlasting Night into which the blazing of millions of suns can bring\nneither light nor warmth. But to the intellect of Herbert Spencer the\nidea of Space must have presented itself after a manner incomparably\nmore mysterious and stupendous. The mathematician alone will\ncomprehend the full significance of the paragraph dealing with the\nGeometry of Position and the mystery of space-relations,--or the\nstartling declaration that \"even could we penetrate the mysteries of\nexistence, there would remain still more transcendent mysteries.\"\nBut Herbert Spencer tells us that, apart from the conception of these\ngeometrical mysteries, the problem of naked Space itself became for\nhim, in the twilight of his age, an obsession and a dismay:--\n\n    ... \"And then comes the thought of this universal matrix\n    itself, anteceding alike creation or evolution, whichever be\n    assumed, and infinitely transcending both, alike in extent and\n    duration; since both, if conceived at all, must be conceived\n    as having had beginnings, while Space had no beginning. The\n    thought of this blank form of existence which, explored in\n    all directions as far as imagination can reach, has, beyond\n    that, an unexplored region compared with which the part which\n    imagination has traversed is but infinitesimal,--the thought\n    of a Space compared with which our immeasurable sidereal\n    system dwindles to a point is a thought too overwhelming to\n    be dwelt upon. Of late years the consciousness that without\n    origin or cause infinite Space has ever existed and must ever\n    exist, produces in me a feeling from which I shrink.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHow the idea of infinite Space may affect a mind incomparably more\npowerful than my own, I cannot know;--neither can I divine the nature\nof certain problems which the laws of space-relation present to the\ngeometrician. But when I try to determine the cause of the horror\nwhich that idea evokes within my own feeble imagination, I am able\nto distinguish different elements of the emotion,--particular forms\nof terror responding to particular ideas (rational and irrational)\nsuggested by the revelations of science. One feeling--perhaps the\nmain element of the horror--is made by the thought of being _prisoned_\nforever and ever within that unutterable Viewlessness which occupies\ninfinite Space.\n\nBehind this feeling there is more than the thought of eternal\ncircumscription;--there is also the idea of being perpetually\npenetrated, traversed, thrilled by the Nameless;--there is likewise\nthe certainty that no least particle of innermost secret Self could\nshun the eternal touch of It;--there is furthermore the tremendous\nconviction that could the Self of me rush with the swiftness of\nlight,--with more than the swiftness of light,--beyond all galaxies,\nbeyond durations of time so vast that Science knows no sign by which\ntheir magnitudes might be indicated,--and still flee onward, onward,\ndownward, upward,--always, always,--never could that Self of me reach\nnearer to any verge, never speed farther from any centre. For, in that\nSilence, all vastitude and height and depth and time and direction are\nswallowed up: relation therein could have no meaning but for the speck\nof my fleeting consciousness,--atom of terror pulsating alone through\natomless, soundless, nameless, illimitable potentiality.\n\nAnd the idea of that potentiality awakens another quality of\nhorror,--the horror of infinite Possibility. For this Inscrutable that\npulses through substance as if substance were not at all,--so subtly\nthat none can feel the flowing of its tides, yet so swiftly that no\nlife-time would suffice to count the number of the oscillations which\nit makes within the fraction of one second,--thrills to us out of\nendlessness;--and the force of infinity dwells in its lightest tremor;\nthe weight of eternity presses behind its faintest shudder. To that\nphantom-Touch, the tinting of a blossom or the dissipation of a\nuniverse were equally facile: here it caresses the eye with the charm\nand illusion of color; there it bestirs into being a cluster of\ngiant suns. All that human mind is capable of conceiving as possible\n(and how much also that human mind must forever remain incapable of\nconceiving?) may be wrought anywhere, everywhere, by a single tremor\nof that Abyss....\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIs it true, as some would have us believe, that the fear of the\nextinction of self is the terror supreme?... For the thought of\npersonal perpetuity in the infinite vortex is enough to evoke sudden\ntrepidations that no tongue can utter,--fugitive instants of a horror\ntoo vast to enter wholly into consciousness: a horror that can be\nendured in swift black glimpsings only. And the trust that we are one\nwith the Absolute--dim points of thrilling in the abyss of It--can\nprove a consoling faith only to those who find themselves obliged to\nthink that consciousness dissolves with the crumbling of the brain....\nIt seems to me that few (or none) dare to utter frankly those\nstupendous doubts and fears which force mortal intelligence to\nrecoil upon itself at every fresh attempt to pass the barrier of the\nKnowable. Were that barrier unexpectedly pushed back,--were knowledge\nto be suddenly and vastly expanded beyond its present limits,--perhaps\nwe should find ourselves unable to endure the revelation....\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMr. Percival Lowell's astonishing book, \"Mars,\" sets one to thinking\nabout the results of being able to hold communication with the\nhabitants of an older and a wiser world,--some race of beings more\nhighly evolved than we, both intellectually and morally, and able to\ninterpret a thousand mysteries that still baffle our science. Perhaps,\nin such event, we should not find ourselves able to comprehend the\nmethods, even could we borrow the results, of wisdom older than all\nour civilization by myriads or hundreds of myriads of years. But would\nnot the sudden advent of larger knowledge from some elder planet prove\nfor us, by reason, of the present moral condition of mankind, nothing\nless than a catastrophe?--might it not even result in the extinction\nof the human species?...\n\nThe rule seems to be that the dissemination of dangerous higher\nknowledge, before the masses of a people are ethically prepared to\nreceive it, will always be prevented by the conservative instinct; and\nwe have reason to suppose (allowing for individual exceptions) that\nthe power to gain higher knowledge is developed only as the moral\nability to profit by such knowledge is evolved. I fancy that if the\npower of holding intellectual converse with other worlds could now\nserve us, we should presently obtain it. But if, by some astonishing\nchance,--as by the discovery, let us suppose, of some method of\nether-telegraphy,--this power were prematurely acquired, its exercise\nwould in all probability be prohibited.... Imagine, for example, what\nwould have happened during the Middle Ages to the person guilty of\ndiscovering means to communicate with the people of a neighboring\nplanet! Assuredly that inventor and his apparatus and his records\nwould have been burned; every trace and memory of his labors would\nhave been extirpated. Even to-day the sudden discovery of truths\nunsupported by human experience, the sudden revelation of facts\ntotally opposed to existing convictions, might evoke some frantic\nrevival of superstitious terrors,--some religious panic-fury that\nwould strangle science, and replunge the world in mental darkness for\na thousand years.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MIRROR MAIDEN\n\n\nIn the period of the Ashikaga Sh[=o]gunate the shrine of\nOgawachi-My[=o]jin, at Minami-Is['e], fell into decay; and the\ndaimy[=o] of the district, the Lord Kitahatak['e], found himself\nunable, by reason of war and other circumstances, to provide for\nthe reparation of the building. Then the Shint[=o] priest in charge,\nMatsumura Hy[=o]go, sought help at Ky[=o]to from the great daimy[=o]\nHosokawa, who was known to have influence with the Sh[=o]gun. The\nLord Hosokawa received the priest kindly, and promised to speak to\nthe Sh[=o]gun about the condition of Ogawachi-My[=o]jin. But he said\nthat, in any event, a grant for the restoration of the temple could\nnot be made without due investigation and considerable delay; and he\nadvised Matsumura to remain in the capital while the matter was being\narranged. Matsumura therefore brought his family to Ky[=o]to, and\nrented a house in the old Ky[=o]goku quarter.\n\nThis house, although handsome and spacious, had been long unoccupied.\nIt was said to be an unlucky house. On the northeast side of it there\nwas a well; and several former tenants had drowned themselves in\nthat well, without any known cause. But Matsumura, being a Shint[=o]\npriest, had no fear of evil spirits; and he soon made himself very\ncomfortable in his new home.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn the summer of that year there was a great drought. For months no\nrain had fallen in the Five Home-Provinces; the river-beds dried\nup, the wells failed; and even in the capital there was a dearth\nof water. But the well in Matsumura's garden remained nearly full;\nand the water--which was very cold and clear, with a faint bluish\ntinge--seemed to be supplied by a spring. During the hot season many\npeople came from all parts of the city to beg for water; and Matsumura\nallowed them to draw as much as they pleased. Nevertheless the supply\ndid not appear to be diminished.\n\nBut one morning the dead body of a young servant, who had been sent\nfrom a neighboring residence to fetch water, was found floating in\nthe well. No cause for a suicide could be imagined; and Matsumura,\nremembering many unpleasant stories about the well, began to suspect\nsome invisible malevolence. He went to examine the well, with the\nintention of having a fence built around it; and while standing\nthere alone he was startled by a sudden motion in the water, as of\nsomething alive. The motion soon ceased; and then he perceived,\nclearly reflected in the still surface, the figure of a young woman,\napparently about nineteen or twenty years of age. She seemed to be\noccupied with her toilet: he distinctly saw her touching her lips\nwith _b['e]ni_[67] At first her face was visible in profile only; but\npresently she turned towards him and smiled. Immediately he felt a\nstrange shock at his heart, and a dizziness came upon him like the\ndizziness of wine, and everything became dark, except that smiling\nface,--white and beautiful as moonlight, and always seeming to grow\nmore beautiful, and to be drawing him down--down--down into the\ndarkness. But with a desperate effort he recovered his will and closed\nhis eyes. When he opened them again, the face was gone, and the light\nhad returned; and he found himself leaning down over the curb of the\nwell. A moment more of that dizziness,--a moment more of that dazzling\nlure,--and he would never again have looked upon the sun...\n\n[Footnote 67: A kind of rouge, now used only to color the lips.]\n\nReturning to the house, he gave orders to his people not to approach\nthe well under any circumstances, or allow any person to draw water\nfrom it. And the next day he had a strong fence built round the well.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAbout a week after the fence had been built, the long drought was\nbroken by a great rain-storm, accompanied by wind and lightning and\nthunder,--thunder so tremendous that the whole city shook to the\nrolling of it, as if shaken by an earthquake. For three days and three\nnights the downpour and the lightnings and the thunder continued; and\nthe Kamogawa rose as it had never risen before, carrying away many\nbridges. During the third night of the storm, at the Hour of the Ox,\nthere was heard a knocking at the door of the priest's dwelling, and\nthe voice of a woman pleading for admittance. But Matsumura, warned by\nhis experience at the well, forbade his servants to answer the appeal.\nHe went himself to the entrance, and asked,--\n\n\"Who calls?\"\n\nA feminine voice responded:--\n\n\"Pardon! it is I,--Yayoi![68]... I have something to say to Matsumura\nSama,--something of great moment. Please open!\"...\n\n[Footnote 68: This name, though uncommon, is still in use.]\n\nMatsumura half opened the door, very cautiously; and he saw the same\nbeautiful face that had smiled upon him from the well. But it was not\nsmiling now: it had a very sad look.\n\n\"Into my house you shall not come,\" the priest exclaimed. \"You are not\na human being, but a Well-Person.... Why do you thus wickedly try to\ndelude and destroy people?\"\n\nThe Well-Person made answer in a voice musical as a tinkling of jewels\n(_tama-wo-korogasu-ko[:e]_.):--\n\n\"It is of that very matter that I want to speak.... I have never\nwished to injure human beings. But from ancient time a Poison-Dragon\ndwelt in that well. He was the Master of the Well; and because of him\nthe well was always full. Long ago I fell into the water there, and\nso became subject to him; and he had power to make me lure people to\ndeath, in order that he might drink their blood. But now the Heavenly\nRuler has commanded the Dragon to dwell hereafter in the lake called\nTorii-no-Ik['e], in the Province of Shinsh[=u]; and the gods have\ndecided that he shall never be allowed to return to this city. So\nto-night, after he had gone away, I was able to come out, to beg for\nyour kindly help. There is now very little water in the well, because\nof the Dragon's departure; and if you will order search to be made,\nmy body will be found there. I pray you to save my body from the well\nwithout delay; and I shall certainly return your benevolence.\"...\n\nSo saying, she vanished into the night.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBefore dawn the tempest had passed; and when the sun arose there was\nno trace of cloud in the pure blue sky. Matsumura sent at an early\nhour for well-cleaners to search the well. Then, to everybody's\nsurprise, the well proved to be almost dry. It was easily cleaned; and\nat the bottom of it were found some hair-ornaments of a very ancient\nfashion, and a metal mirror of curious form--but no trace of any body,\nanimal or human.\n\nMatusmura imagined, however, that the mirror might yield some\nexplanation of the mystery; for every such mirror is a weird thing,\nhaving a soul of its own,--and the soul of a mirror is feminine. This\nmirror, which seemed to be very old, was deeply crusted with scurf.\nBut when it had been carefully cleaned, by the priest's order, it\nproved to be of rare and costly workmanship; and there were wonderful\ndesigns upon the back of it,--also several characters. Some of the\ncharacters had become indistinguishable; but there could still be\ndiscerned part of a date, and ideographs signifying, \"_third month,\nthe third day_.\" Now the third month used to be termed _Yayoi_\n(meaning, the Month of Increase); and the third day of the third\nmonth, which is a festival day, is still called _Yayoi-no-sekku_.\nRemembering that the Well-Person called herself \"Yayoi,\" Matsumura\nfelt almost sure that his ghostly visitant had been none other than\nthe Soul of the Mirror.\n\nHe therefore resolved to treat the mirror with all the consideration\ndue to a Spirit. After having caused it to be carefully repolished\nand resilvered, he had a case of precious wood made for it, and a\nparticular room in the house prepared to receive it. On the evening\nof the same day that it had been respectfully deposited in that room,\nYayoi herself unexpectedly appeared before the priest as he sat alone\nin his study. She looked even more lovely than before; but the light\nof her beauty was now soft as the light of a summer moon shining\nthrough pure white clouds. After having humbly saluted Matsumura, she\nsaid in her sweetly tinkling voice:--\n\n\"Now that you have saved me from solitude and sorrow, I have come to\nthank you.... I am indeed, as you supposed, the Spirit of the Mirror.\nIt was in the time of the Emperor Saimei that I was first brought here\nfrom Kudara; and I dwelt in the august residence until the time of\nthe Emperor Saga, when I was augustly bestowed upon the Lady Kamo,\nNaishinn[=o] of the Imperial Court.[69] Thereafter I became an\nheirloom in the House of Fuji-wara, and so remained until the period\nof H[=o]gen, when I was dropped into the well. There I was left and\nforgotten during the years of the great war.[70] The Master of the\nWell[71] was a venomous Dragon, who used to live in a lake that once\ncovered a great part of this district. After the lake had been filled\nin, by government order, in order that houses might be built upon\nthe place of it, the Dragon took possession of the well; and when I\nfell into the well I became subject to him; and he compelled me to\nlure many people to their deaths. But the gods have banished him\nforever.... Now I have one more favor to beseech: I entreat that you\nwill cause me to be offered up to the Sh[=o]gun, the Lord Yoshimasa,\nwho by descent is related to my former possessors. Do me but this last\ngreat kindness, and it will bring you good-fortune.... But I have also\nto warn you of a danger. In this house, after to-morrow, you must\nnot stay, because it will be destroyed.\"... And with these words of\nwarning Yayoi disappeared.\n\n[Footnote 69: The Emperor Saimei reigned from 655 to 662 (A.D.);\nthe Emperor Saga from 810 to 842.--Kudara was an ancient kingdom in\nsouthwestern Korea, frequently mentioned in early Japanese history.--A\n_Naishinn[=o]_ was of Imperial blood. In the ancient court-hierarchy\nthere were twenty-five ranks or grades of noble ladies;--that of\n_Naishinno_ was seventh in order of precedence.]\n\n[Footnote 70: For centuries the wives of the emperors and the ladies\nof the Imperial Court were chosen from the Fujiwara clan--The period\ncalled H[=o]gen lasted from 1156 to 1159: the war referred to is the\nfamous war between the Taira and Minamoto clans.]\n\n[Footnote 71: In old-time belief every lake or spring had its\ninvisible guardian, supposed to sometimes take the form of a serpent\nor dragon. The spirit of a lake or pond was commonly spoken of as\n_Ik['e]-no-Mushi_, the Master of the Lake. Here we find the title\n\"Master\" given to a dragon living in a well; but the guardian of wells\nis really the god Suijin.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMatsumura was able to profit by this premonition. He removed his\npeople and his belongings to another district the next day; and almost\nimmediately afterwards another storm arose, even more violent than the\nfirst, causing a flood which swept away the house in which he had been\nresiding.\n\nSome time later, by favor of the Lord Hosokawa, Matsumura was enabled\nto obtain an audience of the Sh[=o]gun Yoshimasa, to whom he presented\nthe mirror, together with a written account of its wonderful history.\nThen the prediction of the Spirit of the Mirror was fulfilled; for the\nSh[=o]gun, greatly pleased with this strange gift, not only bestowed\ncostly presents upon Matsumura, but also made an ample grant of money\nfor the rebuilding of the Temple of Ogawachi-My[=o]jin.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF IT[=O] NORISUK['E]\n\n\nIn the town of Uji, in the province of Yamashiro, there lived, about\nsix hundred years ago, a young samurai named It[=o] Tat['e]waki\nNorisuk['e], whose ancestors were of the H['e][:i]k['e] clan. It[=o]\nwas of handsome person and amiable character, a good scholar and apt\nat arms. But his family were poor; and he had no patron among the\nmilitary nobility,--so that his prospects were small. He lived in\na very quiet way, devoting himself to the study of literature, and\nhaving (says the Japanese story-teller) \"only the Moon and the Wind\nfor friends.\"\n\nOne autumn evening, as he was taking a solitary walk in the\nneighborhood of the hill called Kotobikiyama, he happened to overtake\na young girl who was following the same path. She was richly dressed,\nand seemed to be about eleven or twelve years old. It[=o] greeted her,\nand said, \"The sun will soon be setting, damsel, and this is rather a\nlonesome place. May I ask if you have lost your way?\" She looked up\nat him with a bright smile, and answered deprecatingly: \"Nay! I am\na _miya-dzukai_,[72] serving in this neighborhood; and I have only a\nlittle way to go.\"\n\n[Footnote 72: August-residence servant.]\n\nBy her use of the term _miya-dzukai_, It[=o] knew that the girl must\nbe in the service of persons of rank; and her statement surprised him,\nbecause he had never heard of any family of distinction residing in\nthat vicinity. But he only said: \"I am returning to Uji, where my home\nis. Perhaps you will allow me to accompany you on the way, as this is\na very lonesome place.\" She thanked him gracefully, seeming pleased\nby his offer; and they walked on together, chatting as they went. She\ntalked about the weather, the flowers, the butterflies, and the birds;\nabout a visit that she had once made to Uji, about the famous sights\nof the capital, where she had been born;--and the moments passed\npleasantly for It[=o], as he listened to her fresh prattle. Presently,\nat a turn in the road, they entered a hamlet, densely shadowed by a\ngrove of young trees.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Here I must interrupt the story to tell you that, without having\nactually seen them, you cannot imagine how dark some Japanese country\nvillages remain even in the brightest and hottest weather. In the\nneighborhood of T[=o]ky[=o] itself there are many villages of this\nkind. At a short distance from such a settlement you see no houses:\nnothing is visible but a dense grove of evergreen trees. The grove,\nwhich is usually composed of young cedars and bamboos, serves to\nshelter the village from storms, and also to supply timber for various\npurposes. So closely are the trees planted that there is no room to\npass between the trunks of them: they stand straight as masts, and\nmingle their crests so as to form a roof that excludes the sun.\nEach thatched cottage occupies a clear space in the plantation, the\ntrees forming a fence about it, double the height of the building.\nUnder the trees it is always twilight, even at high noon; and the\nhouses, morning or evening, are half in shadow. What makes the\nfirst impression of such a village almost disquieting is, not the\ntransparent gloom, which has a certain weird charm of its own, but\nthe stillness. There may be fifty or a hundred dwellings; but you see\nnobody; and you hear no sound but the twitter of invisible birds, the\noccasional crowing of cocks, and the shrilling of cicad[ae]. Even\nthe cicad[ae], however, find these groves too dim, and sing faintly;\nbeing sun-lovers, they prefer the trees outside the village. I forgot\nto say that you may sometimes hear a viewless shuttle--_chaka-ton,\nchaka-ton_;--but that familiar sound, in the great green silence,\nseems an elfish happening. The reason of the hush is simply that the\npeople are not at home. All the adults, excepting some feeble elders,\nhave gone to the neighboring fields, the women carrying their babies\non their backs; and most of the children have gone to the nearest\nschool, perhaps not less than a mile away. Verily, in these dim\nhushed villages, one seems to behold the mysterious perpetuation of\nconditions recorded in the texts of Kwang-Tze:--\n\n    \"_The ancients who had the nourishment of the world wished for\n    nothing, and the world had enough:--they did nothing, and all\n    things were transformed:--their stillness was abysmal, and the\n    people were all composed._\"]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n... The village was very dark when It[=o] reached it; for the sun\nhad set, and the after-glow made no twilight in the shadowing of the\ntrees. \"Now, kind sir,\" the child said, pointing to a narrow lane\nopening upon the main road, \"I have to go this way.\" \"Permit me, then,\nto see you home,\" It[=o] responded; and he turned into the lane with\nher, feeling rather than seeing his way. But the girl soon stopped\nbefore a small gate, dimly visible in the gloom,--a gate of\ntrelliswork, beyond which the lights of a dwelling could be seen.\n\"Here,\" she said, \"is the honorable residence in which I serve. As you\nhave come thus far out of your way, kind sir, will you not deign to\nenter and to rest a while?\" It[=o] assented. He was pleased by the\ninformal invitation; and he wished to learn what persons of superior\ncondition had chosen to reside in so lonesome a village. He knew that\nsometimes a family of rank would retire in this manner from public\nlife, by reason of government displeasure or political trouble; and\nhe imagined that such might be the history of the occupants of the\ndwelling before him. Passing the gate, which his young guide opened\nfor him, he found himself in a large quaint garden. A miniature\nlandscape, traversed by a winding stream, was faintly distinguishable.\n\"Deign for one little moment to wait,\" the child said; \"I go to\nannounce the honorable coming;\" and hurried toward the house. It\nwas a spacious house, but seemed very old, and built in the fashion\nof another time. The sliding doors were not closed; but the lighted\ninterior was concealed by a beautiful bamboo curtain extending\nalong the gallery front. Behind it shadows were moving--shadows of\nwomen;--and suddenly the music of a _koto_ rippled into the night. So\nlight and sweet was the playing that It[=o] could scarcely believe the\nevidence of his senses. A slumbrous feeling of delight stole over him\nas he listened,--a delight strangely mingled with sadness. He wondered\nhow any woman could have learned to play thus,--wondered whether the\nplayer could be a woman,--wondered even whether he was hearing earthly\nmusic; for enchantment seemed to have entered into his blood with the\nsound of it.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe soft music ceased; and almost at the same moment It[=o] found the\nlittle _miya-dzukai_ beside him. \"Sir,\" she said, \"it is requested\nthat you will honorably enter.\" She conducted him to the entrance,\nwhere he removed his sandals; and an aged woman, whom he thought to be\nthe _R[=o]jo_, or matron of the household, came to welcome him at the\nthreshold. The old woman then led him through many apartments to a\nlarge and well-lighted room in the rear of the house, and with many\nrespectful salutations requested him to take the place of honor\naccorded to guests of distinction. He was surprised by the stateliness\nof the chamber, and the curious beauty of its decorations. Presently\nsome maid-servants brought refreshments; and he noticed that the cups\nand other vessels set before him were of rare and costly workmanship,\nand ornamented with a design indicating the high rank of the\npossessor. More and more he wondered what noble person had chosen this\nlonely retreat, and what happening could have inspired the wish\nfor such solitude. But the aged attendant suddenly interrupted his\nreflections with the question:\n\n\"Am I wrong in supposing that you are It[=o] Sama, of Uji,--It[=o]\nTat['e]waki Norisuk['e]?\"\n\nIt[=o] bowed in assent. He had not told his name to the little\n_miya-dzukai_, and the manner of the inquiry startled him.\n\n\"Please do not think my question rude,\" continued the attendant. \"An\nold woman like myself may ask questions without improper curiosity.\nWhen you came to the house, I thought that I knew your face; and\nI asked your name only to clear away all doubt, before speaking of\nother matters. I have some thing of moment to tell you. You often\npass through this village, and our young Him['e]gimi-Sama[73] happened\none morning to see you going by; and ever since that moment she has\nbeen thinking about you, day and night. Indeed, she thought so much\nthat she became ill; and we have been very uneasy about her. For that\nreason I took means to find out your name and residence; and I was on\nthe point of sending you a letter when--so unexpectedly!--you came to\nour gate with the little attendant. Now, to say how happy I am to see\nyou is not possible; it seems almost too fortunate a happening to be\ntrue! Really I think that this meeting must have been brought about by\nthe favor of Enmusubi-no-Kami,--that great God of Izumo who ties the\nknots of fortunate union. And now that so lucky a destiny has led you\nhither, perhaps you will not refuse--if there be no obstacle in the\nway of such a union--to make happy the heart of our Him['e]gimi-Sama?\"\n\n[Footnote 73: A scarcely translatable honorific title compounded\nof the word _him['e]_ (princess) and _kimi_ (sovereign, master or\nmistress, lord or lady, etc.).]\n\nFor the moment It[=o] did not know how to reply. If the old woman had\nspoken the truth, an extraordinary chance was being offered to him.\nOnly a great passion could impel the daughter of a noble house to\nseek, of her own will, the affection of an obscure and masterless\nsamurai, possessing neither wealth nor any sort of prospects. On the\nother hand, it was not in the honorable nature of the man to further\nhis own interests by taking advantage of a feminine weakness.\nMoreover, the circumstances were disquietingly mysterious. Yet how to\ndecline the proposal, so unexpectedly made, troubled him not a little.\nAfter a short silence, he replied:--\n\n\"There would be no obstacle, as I have no wife, and no betrothed, and\nno relation with any woman. Until now I have lived with my parents;\nand the matter of my marriage was never discussed by them. You must\nknow that I am a poor samurai, without any patron among persons of\nrank; and I did not wish to marry until I could find some chance\nto improve my condition. As to the proposal which you have done me\nthe very great honor to make, I can only say that I know myself yet\nunworthy of the notice of any noble maiden.\"\n\nThe old woman smiled as if pleased by these words, and responded:--\n\n\"Until you have seen our Him['e]gimi-Sama, it were better that you\nmake no decision. Perhaps you will feel no hesitation after you have\nseen her. Deign now to come with me, that I may present you to her.\"\n\nShe conducted him to another larger guest-room, where preparations\nfor a feast had been made, and having shown him the place of honor,\nleft him for a moment alone. She returned accompanied by the\nHim['e]gimi-Sama; and, at the first sight of the young mistress,\nIt[=o] felt again the strange thrill of wonder and delight that had\ncome to him in the garden, as he listened to the music of the _koto_.\nNever had he dreamed of so beautiful a being. Light seemed to radiate\nfrom her presence, and to shine through her garments, as the light of\nthe moon through flossy clouds; her loosely flowing hair swayed about\nher as she moved, like the boughs of the drooping willow bestirred\nby the breezes of spring; her lips were like flowers of the peach\nbesprinkled with morning dew. It[=o] was bewildered by the vision.\nHe asked himself whether he was not looking upon the person of\nAmano-kawara-no-Ori-Him['e] herself,--the Weaving-Maiden who dwells by\nthe shining River of Heaven.\n\nSmiling, the aged woman turned to the fair one, who remained\nspeechless, with downcast eyes and flushing cheeks, and said to her:--\n\n\"See, my child!--at the moment when we could least have hoped for such\na thing, the very person whom you wished to meet has come of his own\naccord. So fortunate a happening could have been brought about only\nby the will of the high gods. To think of it makes me weep for joy.\"\nAnd she sobbed aloud. \"But now,\" she continued, wiping away her tears\nwith her sleeve, \"it only remains for you both--unless either prove\nunwilling, which I doubt--to pledge yourselves to each other, and to\npartake of your wedding feast.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt[=o] answered by no word: the incomparable vision before him had\nnumbed his will and tied his tongue. Maid-servants entered, bearing\ndishes and wine: the wedding feast was spread before the pair; and the\npledges were given. It[=o] nevertheless remained as in a trance: the\nmarvel of the adventure, and the wonder of the beauty of the bride,\nstill bewildered him. A gladness, beyond aught that he had ever known\nbefore, filled his heart--like a great silence. But gradually he\nrecovered his wonted calm; and thereafter he found himself able to\nconverse without embarrassment. Of the wine he partook freely; and\nhe ventured to speak, in a self-depreciating but merry way, about the\ndoubts and fears that had oppressed him. Meanwhile the bride remained\nstill as moonlight, never lifting her eyes, and replying only by a\nblush or a smile when he addressed her.\n\nIt[=o] said to the aged attendant:--\n\n\"Many times, in my solitary walks, I have passed through this village\nwithout knowing of the existence of this honorable dwelling. And ever\nsince entering here, I have been wondering why this noble household\nshould have chosen so lonesome a place of sojourn.... Now that your\nHim['e]gimi-Sama and I have become pledged to each other, it seems\nto me a strange thing that I do not yet know the name of her august\nfamily.\"\n\nAt this utterance, a shadow passed over the kindly face of the old\nwoman; and the bride, who had yet hardly spoken, turned pale, and\nappeared to become painfully anxious. After some moments of silence,\nthe aged woman responded:--\n\n\"To keep our secret from you much longer would be difficult; and I\nthink that, under any circumstances, you should be made aware of\nthe facts, now that you are one of us. Know then, Sir It[=o], that\nyour bride is the daughter of Shig['e]hira-Ky[=o], the great and\nunfortunate San-mi Ch[:u]j[=o].\"\n\nAt those words--\"Shig['e]hira-Ky[=o], San-mi Ch[:u]j[=o]\"--the\nyoung samurai felt a chill, as of ice, strike through all his veins.\nShig['e]hira-Ky[=o], the great H['e][:i]k['e] general and statesman,\nhad been dust for centuries. And It[=o] suddenly understood that\neverything around him--the chamber and the lights and the banquet--was\na dream of the past; that the forms before him were not people, but\nshadows of people dead.\n\nBut in another instant the icy chill had passed; and the charm\nreturned, and seemed to deepen about him; and he felt no fear. Though\nhis bride had come to him out of Yomi,--out of the place of the Yellow\nSprings of death,--his heart had been wholly won. Who weds a ghost\nmust become a ghost;--yet he knew himself ready to die, not once, but\nmany times, rather than betray by word or look one thought that might\nbring a shadow of pain to the brow of the beautiful illusion before\nhim. Of the affection proffered he had no misgiving: the truth had\nbeen told him when any unloving purpose might better have been served\nby deception. But these thoughts and emotions passed in a flash,\nleaving him resolved to accept the strange situation as it had\npresented itself, and to act just as he would have done if chosen, in\nthe years of J[:u]-ei, by Shig['e]hira's daughter.\n\n\"Ah, the pity of it!\" he exclaimed; \"I have heard of the cruel fate of\nthe august Lord Shig['e]hira.\"\n\n\"Ay,\" responded the aged woman, sobbing as she spoke;--\"it was indeed\na cruel fate. His horse, you know, was killed by an arrow, and fell\nupon him; and when he called for help, those who had lived upon his\nbounty deserted him in his need. Then he was taken prisoner, and sent\nto Kamakura, where they treated him shamefully, and at last put him\nto death.[74] His wife and child--this dear maid here--were then in\nhiding; for everywhere the H['e][:i]k['e] were being sought out and\nkilled. When the news of the Lord Shig['e]hira's death reached us,\nthe pain proved too great for the mother to bear, so the child was\nleft with no one to care for her but me,--since her kindred had all\nperished or disappeared. She was only five years old. I had been\nher milk-nurse, and I did what I could for her. Year after year we\nwandered from place to place, traveling in pilgrim-garb.... But these\ntales of grief are ill-timed,\" exclaimed the nurse, wiping away her\ntears;--\"pardon the foolish heart of an old woman who cannot forget\nthe past. See! the little maid whom I fostered has now become a\nHim['e]gimi-Sama indeed!--were we living in the good days of the\nEmperor Takakura, what a destiny might be reserved for her! However,\nshe has obtained the husband whom she desired; that is the greatest\nhappiness.... But the hour is late. The bridal-chamber has been\nprepared; and I must now leave you to care for each other until\nmorning.\"\n\n[Footnote 74: Shig['e]hira, after a brave fight in defense of the\ncapital,--then held by the Ta[:i]ra (or H['e][:i]k['e]) party,--was\nsurprised and routed by Yoshitsun['e], leader of the Minamoto forces.\nA soldier named Iy['e]naga, who was a skilled archer, shot down\nShig['e]hira's horse; and Shig['e]hira fell under the struggling\nanimal. He cried to an attendant to bring another horse; but the man\nfled. Shig['e]hira was then captured by Iy['e]naga, and eventually\ngiven up to Yoritomo, head of the Minamoto clan, who caused him to be\nsent in a cage to Kamakura. There, after sundry humiliations, he was\ntreated for a time with consideration,--having been able, by a Chinese\npoem, to touch even the cruel heart of Yoritomo. But in the following\nyear he was executed by request of the Buddhist priests of Nanto,\nagainst whom he had formerly waged war by order of Kiyomori.]\n\nShe rose, and sliding back the screens parting the guest-room from\nthe adjoining chamber, ushered them to their sleeping apartment. Then,\nwith many words of joy and congratulation, she withdrew; and It[=o]\nwas left alone with his bride.\n\nAs they reposed together, It[=o] said:--\n\n\"Tell me, my loved one, when was it that you first wished to have me\nfor your husband.\"\n\n(For everything appeared so real that he had almost ceased to think of\nthe illusion woven around him.)\n\nShe answered, in a voice like a dove's voice:--\n\n\"My august lord and husband, it was at the temple of Ishiyama, where\nI went with my foster-mother, that I saw you for the first time. And\nbecause of seeing you, the world became changed to me from that hour\nand moment. But you do not remember, because our meeting was not in\nthis, your present life: it was very, very long ago. Since that time\nyou have passed through many deaths and births, and have had many\ncomely bodies. But I have remained always that which you see me now:\nI could not obtain another body, nor enter into another state of\nexistence, because of my great wish for you. My dear lord and husband,\nI have waited for you through many ages of men.\"\n\nAnd the bridegroom felt nowise afraid at hearing these strange words,\nbut desired nothing more in life, or in all his lives to come, than to\nfeel her arms about him, and to hear the caress of her voice.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBut the pealing of a temple-bell proclaimed the coming of dawn. Birds\nbegan to twitter; a morning breeze set all the trees a-whispering.\nSuddenly the old nurse pushed apart the sliding screens of the\nbridal-chamber, and exclaimed:--\n\n\"My children, it is time to separate! By daylight you must not be\ntogether, even for an instant: that were fatal! You must bid each\nother good-by.\"\n\nWithout a word, It[=o] made ready to depart. He vaguely understood\nthe warning uttered, and resigned himself wholly to destiny. His will\nbelonged to him no more; he desired only to please his shadowy bride.\n\nShe placed in his hands a little _suzuri_, or ink-stone, curiously\ncarved, and said:--\n\n\"My young lord and husband is a scholar; therefore this small gift\nwill probably not be despised by him. It is of strange fashion because\nit is old, having been augustly bestowed upon my father by the favor\nof the Emperor Takakura. For that reason only, I thought it to be a\nprecious thing.\"\n\nIt[=o], in return, besought her to accept for a remembrance the\n_k[=o]gai_[75] of his sword, which were decorated with inlaid work of\nsilver and gold, representing plum-flowers and nightingales.\n\n[Footnote 75: This was the name given to a pair of metal rods attached\nto a sword-sheath, and used like chop-sticks. They were sometimes\nexquisitely ornamented.]\n\nThen the little _miya-dzukai_ came to guide him through the garden,\nand his bride with her foster-mother accompanied him to the threshold.\n\nAs he turned at the foot of the steps to make his parting salute, the\nold woman said:--\n\n\"We shall meet again the next Year of the Boar, at the same hour of\nthe same day of the same month that you came here. This being the Year\nof the Tiger, you will have to wait ten years. But, for reasons which\nI must not say, we shall not be able to meet again in this place;\nwe are going to the neighborhood of Ky[=o]to, where the good Emperor\nTakakura and our fathers and many of our people are dwelling. All\nthe H['e][:i]k['e] will be rejoiced by your coming. We shall send a\n_kago_[76] for you on the appointed day.\"\n\n[Footnote 76: A kind of palanquin.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAbove the village the stars were burning as It[=o] passed the gate;\nbut on reaching the open road he saw the dawn brightening beyond\nleagues of silent fields. In his bosom he carried the gift of his\nbride. The charm of her voice lingered in his ears,--and nevertheless,\nhad it not been for the memento which he touched with questioning\nfingers, he could have persuaded himself that the memories of the\nnight were memories of sleep, and that his life still belonged to him.\n\nBut the certainty that he had doomed himself evoked no least regret:\nhe was troubled only by the pain of separation, and the thought of the\nseasons that would have to pass before the illusion could be renewed\nfor him. Ten years!--and every day of those years would seem how long!\nThe mystery of the delay he could not hope to solve; the secret ways\nof the dead are known to the gods alone.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOften and often, in his solitary walks, It[=o] revisited the village\nat Kotobikiyama, vaguely hoping to obtain another glimpse of the past.\nBut never again, by night or by day, was he able to find the rustic\ngate in the shadowed lane; never again could he perceive the figure of\nthe little _miya-dzukai_, walking alone in the sunset-glow.\n\nThe village people, whom he questioned carefully, thought him\nbewitched. No person of rank, they said, had ever dwelt in the\nsettlement; and there had never been, in the neighborhood, any such\ngarden as he described. But there had once been a great Buddhist\ntemple near the place of which he spoke; and some gravestones of the\ntemple-cemetery were still to be seen. It[=o] discovered the monuments\nin the middle of a dense thicket. They were of an ancient Chinese\nform, and were covered with moss and lichens. The characters that had\nbeen cut upon them could no longer be deciphered.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOf his adventure It[=o] spoke to no one. But friends and kindred soon\nperceived a great change in his appearance and manner. Day by day he\nseemed to become more pale and thin, though physicians declared that\nhe had no bodily ailment; he looked like a ghost, and moved like\na shadow. Thoughtful and solitary he had always been, but now he\nappeared indifferent to everything which had formerly given him\npleasure,--even to those literary studies by means of which he\nmight have hoped to win distinction. To his mother--who thought that\nmarriage might quicken his former ambition, and revive his interest in\nlife--he said that he had made a vow to marry no living woman. And the\nmonths dragged by.\n\nAt last came the Year of the Boar, and the season of autumn; but I to\ncould no longer take the solitary walks that he loved. He could not\neven rise from his bed. His life was ebbing, though none could divine\nthe cause; and he slept so deeply and so long that his sleep was often\nmistaken for death.\n\nOut of such a sleep he was startled, one bright evening, by the voice\nof a child; and he saw at his bedside the little _miya-dsukai_ who\nhad guided him, ten years before, to the gate of the vanished garden.\nShe saluted him, and smiled, and said: \"I am bidden to tell you that\nyou will be received to-night at [:O]hara, near Ky[=o]to, where the\nnew home is, and that a _kago_ has been sent for you.\" Then she\ndisappeared.\n\nIt[=o] knew that he was being summoned away from the light of the sun;\nbut the message so rejoiced him that he found strength to sit up and\ncall his mother. To her he then for the first time related the story\nof his bridal, and he showed her the ink-stone which had been given\nhim. He asked that it should be placed in his coffin,--and then he\ndied.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe ink-stone was buried with him. But before the funeral ceremonies\nit was examined by experts, who said that it had been made in the\nperiod of _J[=o]-an_(1169 A.D.), and that it bore the seal-mark of an\nartist who had lived in the time of the Emperor Takakura.\n\n\n\n\nSTRANGER THAN FICTION\n\n\nIt was a perfect West Indian day. My friend the notary and I were\ncrossing the island by a wonderful road which wound up through tropic\nforest to the clouds, and thence looped down again, through gold-green\nslopes of cane, and scenery amazing of violet and blue and ghost-gray\npeaks, to the roaring coast of the trade winds. All the morning we had\nbeen ascending,--walking after our carriage, most of the time, for the\nsake of the brave little mule;--and the sea had been climbing behind\nus till it looked like a monstrous wall of blue, pansy-blue, under the\never heightening horizon. The heat was like the heat of a vapor-bath,\nbut the air was good to breathe with its tropical odor,--an odor made\nup of smells of strange saps, queer spicy scents of mould, exhalations\nof aromatic decay. Moreover, the views were glimpses of Paradise; and\nit was a joy to watch the torrents roaring down their gorges under\nshadows of tree-fern and bamboo.\n\nMy friend stopped the carriage before a gateway set into a hedge full\nof flowers that looked like pink-and-white butterflies. \"I have to\nmake a call here,\" he said;--\"come in with me.\" We dismounted, and he\nknocked on the gate with the butt of his whip. Within, at the end of\na shady garden, I could see the porch of a planter's house; beyond\nwere rows of cocoa palms, and glimpses of yellowing cane. Presently\na negro, wearing only a pair of canvas trousers and a great straw\nhat, came hobbling to open the gate,--followed by a multitude, an\nastonishing multitude, of chippering chickens. Under the shadow of\nthat huge straw hat I could not see the negro's face; but I noticed\nthat his limbs and body were strangely shrunken,--looked as if\nwithered to the bone. A weirder creature I had never beheld; and I\nwondered at his following of chickens.\n\n\"Eh!\" exclaimed the notary, \"your chickens are as lively as ever!... I\nwant to see Madame Floran.\"\n\n\"_Moin k['e] di_,\" the goblin responded huskily, in his patois; and\nhe limped on before us, all the chickens hopping and cheeping at his\nwithered heels.\n\n\"That fellow,\" my friend observed, \"was bitten by a _fer-de-lance_\nabout eight or nine years ago. He got cured, or at least half-cured,\nin some extraordinary way; but ever since then he has been a skeleton.\nSee how he limps!\"\n\nThe skeleton passed out of sight behind the house, and we waited a\nwhile at the front porch. Then a m['e]tisse--turbaned in wasp colors,\nand robed in iris colors, and wonderful to behold--came to tell us\nthat Madame hoped we would rest ourselves in the garden, as the house\nwas very warm. Chairs and a little table were then set for us in a\nshady place, and the m['e]tisse brought out lemons, sugar-syrup, a\nbottle of the clear plantation rum that smells like apple juice, and\nice-cold water in a _dobanne_ of thick red clay. My friend prepared\nthe refreshments; and then our hostess came to greet us, and to sit\nwith us,--a nice old lady with hair like newly minted silver. I had\nnever seen a smile sweeter than that with which she bade us welcome;\nand I wondered whether she could ever have been more charming in her\nCreole girlhood than she now appeared,--with her kindly wrinkles, and\nargent hair, and frank, black, sparkling eyes....\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn the conversation that followed I was not able to take part, as\nit related only to some question of title. The notary soon arranged\nwhatever there was to arrange; and, after some charmingly spoken words\nof farewell from the gentle lady, we took our departure. Again the\nmummified negro hobbled before us, to open the gate,--followed by\nall his callow rabble of chickens. As we resumed our places in the\ncarriage we could still hear the chippering of the creatures, pursuing\nafter that ancient scarecrow.\n\n\"Is it African sorcery?\" I queried.... \"How does he bewitch those\nchickens?\"\n\n\"Queer--is it not?\" the notary responded as we drove away. \"That negro\nmust now be at least eighty years old; and he may live for twenty\nyears more,--the wretch!\"\n\nThe tone in which my friend uttered this epithet--_le\nmiserable!_--somewhat surprised me, as I knew him to be one of the\nkindliest men in the world, and singularly free from prejudice. I\nsuspected that a story was coming, and I waited for it in silence.\n\n\"Listen,\" said the notary, after a pause, during which we left the\nplantation well behind us; \"that old sorcerer, as you call him, was\nborn upon the estate, a slave. The estate belonged to M. Floran,--the\nhusband of the lady whom we visited; and she was a cousin, and the\nmarriage was a love-match. They had been married about two years when\nthe revolt occurred (fortunately there were no children),--the black\nrevolt of eighteen hundred and forty-eight. Several planters were\nmurdered; and M. Floran was one of the first to be killed. And the old\nnegro whom we saw to-day--the old sorcerer, as you call him--left the\nplantation, and joined the rising: do you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I said; \"but he might have done that through fear of the mob.\"\n\n\"Certainly: the other hands did the same. But it was he that killed M.\nFloran,--for no reason whatever,--cut him up with a cutlass. M. Floran\nwas riding home when the attack was made,--about a mile below the\nplantation.... Sober, that negro would not have dared to face M.\nFloran: the scoundrel was drunk, of course,--raving drunk. Most of\nthe blacks had been drinking tafia, with dead wasps in it, to give\nthemselves courage.\"\n\n\"But,\" I interrupted, \"how does it happen that the fellow is still on\nthe Floran plantation?\"\n\n\"Wait a moment!... When the military got control of the mob, search\nwas made everywhere for the murderer of M. Floran; but he could not\nbe found. He was lying out in the cane,--in M. Floran's cane!--like\na field-rat, like a snake. One morning, while the gendarmes\nwere still looking for him, he rushed into the house, and\nthrew himself down in front of Madame, weeping and screaming,\n'_A[:i]e-ya[:i]e-ya[:i]e-ya[:i]e!--moin t['e] tchou['e] y! moin\nt['e] tchou['e] y!--a[:i]e-ya[:i]e-ya[:i]e!_' Those were his very\nwords:--'I killed him! I killed him!' And he begged for mercy. When he\nwas asked why he killed M. Floran, he cried out that it was the\ndevil--_diabe-[`a]_--that had made him do it!... Well, Madame forgave\nhim!\"\n\n\"But how could she?\" I queried.\n\n\"Oh, she had always been very religious,\" my friend\nresponded,--\"sincerely religious. She only said, 'May God pardon me\nas I now pardon you!' She made her servants hide the creature and feed\nhim; and they kept him hidden until the excitement was over. Then she\nsent him back to work; and he has been working for her ever since. Of\ncourse he is now too old to be of any use in the field;--he only takes\ncare of the chickens.\"\n\n\"But how,\" I persisted, \"could the relatives allow Madame to forgive\nhim?\"\n\n\"Well, Madame insisted that he was not mentally responsible,--that he\nwas only a poor fool who had killed without knowing what he was doing;\nand she argued that if _she_ could forgive him, others could more\neasily do the same. There was a consultation; and the relatives\ndecided so to arrange matters that Madame could have her own way.\"\n\n\"But why?\"\n\n\"Because they knew that she found a sort of religious consolation--a\nkind of religious comfort--in forgiving the wretch. She imagined that\nit was her duty as a Christian, not only to forgive him, but to\ntake care of him. We thought that she was mistaken,--but we could\nunderstand.... Well, there is an example of what religion can do.\"...\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe surprise of a new fact, or the sudden perception of something\nnever before imagined, may cause an involuntary smile. Unconsciously\nI smiled, while my friend was yet speaking; and the good notary's brow\ndarkened.\n\n\"Ah, you laugh!\" he exclaimed,--\"you laugh! That is wrong!--that is a\nmistake!... But you do not believe: you do not know what it is,--the\ntrue religion,--the real Christianity!\"\n\nEarnestly I made answer:--\n\n\"Pardon me! I do believe every word of what you have told me. If I\nlaughed unthinkingly, it was only because I could not help wondering\"\n...\n\n\"At what?\" he questioned gravely.\n\n\"At the marvelous instinct of that negro.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes!\" he returned approvingly. \"Yes, the cunning of the animal\nit was,--the instinct of the brute!... She was the only person in the\nworld who could have saved him.\"\n\n\"And he knew it,\" I ventured to add.\n\n\"No--no--no!\" my friend emphatically dissented,--\"he never could have\nknown it! He only _felt_ it!... Find me an instinct like that, and I\nwill show you a brain incapable of any knowledge, any thinking, any\nunderstanding: not the mind of a man, but the brain of a beast!\"\n\n\n\n\nA LETTER FROM JAPAN\n\n\nTokyo, August 1, 1904.\n\nHere, in this quiet suburb, where the green peace is broken only by\nthe voices of children at play and the shrilling of cicad[ae], it is\ndifficult to imagine that, a few hundred miles away, there is being\ncarried on one of the most tremendous wars of modern times, between\narmies aggregating more than half a million of men, or that, on the\nintervening sea, a hundred ships of war have been battling. This\ncontest, between the mightiest of Western powers and a people that\nbegan to study Western science only within the recollection of many\npersons still in vigorous life, is, on one side at least, a struggle\nfor national existence. It was inevitable, this struggle,--might\nperhaps have been delayed, but certainly not averted. Japan has\nboldly challenged an empire capable of threatening simultaneously the\ncivilizations of the East and the West,--a medi[ae]val power that,\nunless vigorously checked, seems destined to absorb Scandinavia and\nto dominate China. For all industrial civilization the contest is one\nof vast moment;--for Japan it is probably the supreme crisis in her\nnational life. As to what her fleets and her armies have been doing,\nthe world is fully informed; but as to what her people are doing at\nhome, little has been written.\n\nTo inexperienced observation they would appear to be doing nothing\nunusual; and this strange calm is worthy of record. At the\nbeginning of hostilities an Imperial mandate was issued, bidding all\nnon-combatants to pursue their avocations as usual, and to trouble\nthemselves as little as possible about exterior events;--and this\ncommand has been obeyed to the letter. It would be natural to suppose\nthat all the sacrifices, tragedies, and uncertainties of the contest\nhad thrown their gloom over the life of the capital in especial; but\nthere is really nothing whatever to indicate a condition of anxiety or\ndepression. On the contrary, one is astonished by the joyous tone of\npublic confidence, and the admirably restrained pride of the nation\nin its victories. Western tides have strewn the coast with Japanese\ncorpses; regiments have been blown out of existence in the storming of\npositions defended by wire-entanglements; battleships have been lost:\nyet at no moment has there been the least public excitement. The\npeople are following their daily occupations just as they did before\nthe war; the cheery aspect of things is just the same; the theatres\nand flower displays are not less well patronized. The life of\nT[=o]ky[=o] has been, to outward seeming, hardly more affected by the\nevents of the war than the life of nature beyond it, where the flowers\nare blooming and the butterflies hovering as in other summers. Except\nafter the news of some great victory,--celebrated with fireworks and\nlantern processions,--there are no signs of public emotion; and but\nfor the frequent distribution of newspaper extras, by runners ringing\nbells, you could almost persuade yourself that the whole story of the\nwar is an evil dream.\n\nYet there has been, of necessity, a vast amount of suffering--viewless\nand voiceless suffering--repressed by that sense of social and\npatriotic duty which is Japanese religion. As a seventeen-syllable\npoem of the hour tells us, the news of every victory must bring pain\nas well as joy:--\n\n    G[=o]gwai no\n  Tabi teki mikata\n    Gok['e] ga fu[`e].\n\n    [_Each time that an extra is circulated the widows of foes and\n    friends have increased in multitude._]\n\nThe great quiet and the smiling tearlessness testify to the more than\nSpartan discipline of the race. Anciently the people were trained, not\nonly to conceal their emotions, but to speak in a cheerful voice and\nto show a pleasant face under any stress of moral suffering; and they\nare obedient to that teaching to-day. It would still be thought a\nshame to betray personal sorrow for the loss of those who die for\nEmperor and fatherland. The public seem to view the events of the war\nas they would watch the scenes of a popular play. They are interested\nwithout being excited; and their extraordinary self-control is\nparticularly shown in various manifestations of the \"Play-impulse.\"\nEverywhere the theatres are producing war dramas (based upon actual\nfact); the newspapers and magazines are publishing war stories and\nnovels; the cinematograph exhibits the monstrous methods of modern\nwarfare; and numberless industries are turning out objects of art or\nutility designed to commemorate the Japanese triumphs.\n\nBut the present psychological condition, the cheerful and even playful\ntone of public feeling, can be indicated less by any general statement\nthan by the mention of ordinary facts,--every-day matters recorded in\nthe writer's diary.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNever before were the photographers so busy; it is said that they\nhave not been able to fulfill half of the demands made upon them.\nThe hundreds of thousands of men sent to the war wished to leave\nphotographs with their families, and also to take with them portraits\nof parents, children, and other beloved persons. The nation was being\nphotographed during the past six months.\n\nA fact of sociological interest is that photography has added\nsomething new to the poetry of the domestic faith. From the time of\nits first introduction, photography became popular in Japan; and none\nof those superstitions, which inspire fear of the camera among less\ncivilized races, offered any obstacle to the rapid development of a\nnew industry. It is true that there exists some queer-folk beliefs\nabout photographs,--ideas of mysterious relation between the\nsun-picture and the person imaged. For example: if, in the photograph\nof a group, one figure appear indistinct or blurred, that is thought\nto be an omen of sickness or death. But this superstition has its\nindustrial value: it has compelled photographers to be careful about\ntheir work,--especially in these days of war, when everybody wants to\nhave a good clear portrait, because the portrait might be needed for\nanother purpose than preservation in an album.\n\nDuring the last twenty years there has gradually come into existence\nthe custom of placing the photograph of a dead parent, brother,\nhusband, or child, beside the mortuary tablet kept in the Buddhist\nhousehold shrine. For this reason, also, the departing soldier wishes\nto leave at home a good likeness of himself.\n\nThe rites of domestic affection, in old samurai families, are not\nconfined to the cult of the dead. On certain occasions, the picture\nof the absent parent, husband, brother, or betrothed, is placed in\nthe alcove of the guest-room, and a feast laid out before it. The\nphotograph, in such cases, is fixed upon a little stand (_dai_); and\nthe feast is served as if the person were present. This pretty custom\nof preparing a meal for the absent is probably more ancient than any\nart of portraiture; but the modern photograph adds to the human poetry\nof the rite. In feudal time it was the rule to set the repast facing\nthe direction in which the absent person had gone--north, south, east,\nor west. After a brief interval the covers of the vessels containing\nthe cooked food were lifted and examined. If the lacquered inner\nsurface was thickly beaded with vapor, all was well; but if\nthe surface was dry, that was an omen of death, a sign that the\ndisembodied spirit had returned to absorb the essence of the\nofferings.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAs might have been expected, in a country where the \"play-impulse\" is\nstronger, perhaps, than in any other part of the world, the Zeitgeist\nfound manifestation in the flower displays of the year. I visited\nthose in my neighborhood, which is the Quarter of the Gardeners. This\nquarter is famous for its azaleas (_tsutsuji_); and every spring\nthe azalea gardens attract thousands of visitors,--not only by the\nwonderful exhibition then made of shrubs which look like solid masses\nof blossom (ranging up from snowy white, through all shades of pink,\nto a flamboyant purple) but also by displays of effigies: groups\nof figures ingeniously formed with living leaves and flowers. These\nfigures, life-size, usually represent famous incidents of history or\ndrama. In many cases--though not in all--the bodies and the costumes\nare composed of foliage and flowers trained to grow about a framework;\nwhile the faces, feet, and hands are represented by some kind of\nflesh-colored composition.\n\nThis year, however, a majority of the displays represented scenes\nof the war,--such as an engagement between Japanese infantry and\nmounted Cossacks, a night attack by torpedo boats, the sinking of\na battleship. In the last-mentioned display, Russian bluejackets\nappeared, swimming for their lives in a rough sea;--the pasteboard\nwaves and the swimming figures being made to rise and fall by the\npulling of a string; while the crackling of quick-firing guns was\nimitated by a mechanism contrived with sheets of zinc.\n\nIt is said that Admiral T[=o]g[=o] sent to T[=o]ky[=o] for some\nflowering-trees in pots--inasmuch as his responsibilities allowed him\nno chance of seeing the cherry-flowers and the plum-blossoms in their\nseason,--and that the gardeners responded even too generously.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAlmost immediately after the beginning of hostilities, thousands of\n\"war pictures\"--mostly cheap lithographs--were published. The drawing\nand coloring were better than those of the prints issued at the\ntime of the war with China; but the details were to a great extent\nimaginary,--altogether imaginary as to the appearance of Russian\ntroops. Pictures of the engagements with the Russian fleet were\neffective, despite some lurid exaggeration. The most startling things\nwere pictures of Russian defeats in Korea, published before a single\nmilitary engagement had taken place;--the artist had \"flushed to\nanticipate the scene.\" In these prints the Russians were depicted\nas fleeing in utter rout, leaving their officers--very fine-looking\nofficers--dead upon the field; while the Japanese infantry, with\ndreadfully determined faces, were coming up at a double. The propriety\nand the wisdom of thus pictorially predicting victory, and easy\nvictory to boot, may be questioned. But I am told that the custom of\nso doing is an old one; and it is thought that to realize the common\nhope thus imaginatively is lucky. At all events, there is no attempt\nat deception in these pictorial undertakings;--they help to keep up\nthe public courage, and they ought to be pleasing to the gods.\n\nSome of the earlier pictures have now been realized in grim fact.\nThe victories in China had been similarly foreshadowed: they amply\njustified the faith of the artist.... To-day the war pictures continue\nto multiply; but they have changed character. The inexorable truth\nof the photograph, and the sketches of the war correspondent, now\nbring all the vividness and violence of fact to help the artist's\nimagination. There was something na[:i]ve and theatrical in the\ndrawings of anticipation; but the pictures of the hour represent the\nmost tragic reality,--always becoming more terrible. At this writing,\nJapan has yet lost no single battle; but not a few of her victories\nhave been dearly won.\n\nTo enumerate even a tenth of the various articles ornamented with\ndesigns inspired by the war--articles such as combs, clasps, fans,\nbrooches, card-cases, purses--would require a volume. Even cakes and\nconfectionery are stamped with naval or military designs; and the\nglass or paper windows of shops--not to mention the signboards--have\npictures of Japanese victories painted upon them. At night the shop\nlanterns proclaim the pride of the nation in its fleets and armies;\nand a whole chapter might easily be written about the new designs in\ntransparencies and toy lanterns. A new revolving lantern--turned by\nthe air-current which its own flame creates--has become very popular.\nIt represents a charge of Japanese infantry upon Russian defenses;\nand holes pierced in the colored paper, so as to produce a continuous\nvivid flashing while the transparency revolves, suggest the exploding\nof shells and the volleying of machine guns.\n\nSome displays of the art-impulse, as inspired by the war, have been\nmade in directions entirely unfamiliar to Western experience,--in\nthe manufacture, for example, of women's hair ornaments and dress\nmaterials. Dress goods decorated with war pictures have actually\nbecome a fashion,--especially cr[^e]pe silks for underwear, and\nfigured silk linings for cloaks and sleeves. More remarkable\nthan these are the new hairpins;--by hairpins I mean those long\ndouble-pronged ornaments of flexible metal which are called\n_kanzashi_, and are more or less ornamented according to the age\nof the wearer. (The _kanzashi_ made for young girls are highly\ndecorative; those worn by older folk are plain, or adorned only with\na ball of coral or polished stone.) The new hairpins might be called\ncommemorative: one, of which the decoration represents a British and\na Japanese flag intercrossed, celebrates the Anglo-Japanese alliance;\nanother represents an officer's cap and sword; and the best of all is\nsurmounted by a tiny metal model of a battleship. The battleship-pin\nis not merely fantastic: it is actually pretty!\n\nAs might have been expected, military and naval subjects occupy a\nlarge place among the year's designs for toweling. The towel designs\ncelebrating naval victories have been particularly successful: they\nare mostly in white, on a blue ground; or in black, on a white ground.\nOne of the best--blue and white--represented only a flock of gulls\nwheeling about the masthead of a sunken iron-clad, and, far away, the\nsilhouettes of Japanese battleships passing to the horizon.... What\nespecially struck me in this, and in several other designs, was the\noriginal manner in which the Japanese artist had seized upon the\ntraits of the modern battleship,--the powerful and sinister lines of\nits shape,--just as he would have caught for us the typical character\nof a beetle or a lobster. The lines have been just enough exaggerated\nto convey, at one glance, the real impression made by the aspect of\nthese iron monsters,--vague impression of bulk and force and menace,\nvery difficult to express by ordinary methods of drawing.\n\nBesides towels decorated with artistic sketches of this sort, there\nhave been placed upon the market many kinds of towels bearing comic\nwar pictures,--caricatures or cartoons which are amusing without being\nmalignant. It will be remembered that at the time of the first attack\nmade upon the Port Arthur squadron, several of the Russian officers\nwere in the Dalny theatre,--never dreaming that the Japanese would\ndare to strike the first blow. This incident has been made the subject\nof a towel design. At one end of the towel is a comic study of the\nfaces of the Russians, delightedly watching the gyrations of a\nballet dancer. At the other end is a study of the faces of the same\ncommanders when they find, on returning to the port, only the masts\nof their battleships above water. Another towel shows a procession\nof fish in front of a surgeon's office--waiting their turns to be\nrelieved of sundry bayonets, swords, revolvers, and rifles, which have\nstuck in their throats. A third towel picture represents a Russian\ndiver examining, with a prodigious magnifying-glass, the holes made by\ntorpedoes in the hull of a sunken cruiser. Comic verses or legends, in\ncursive text, are printed beside these pictures.\n\nThe great house of Mitsui, which placed the best of these designs on\nthe market, also produced some beautiful souvenirs of the war, in\nthe shape of _fukusa_. (A _fukusa_ is an ornamental silk covering,\nor wrapper, put over presents sent to friends on certain occasions,\nand returned after the present has been received.) These are made of\nthe heaviest and costliest silk, and inclosed within appropriately\ndecorated covers. Upon one _fukusa_ is a colored picture of the\ncruisers Nisshin and Kasuga, under full steam; and upon another has\nbeen printed, in beautiful Chinese characters, the full text of the\nImperial Declaration of war.\n\nBut the strangest things that I have seen in this line of production\nwere silk dresses for baby girls,--figured stuffs which, when looked\nat from a little distance, appeared incomparably pretty, owing to the\nmasterly juxtaposition of tints and colors. On closer inspection the\ncharming design proved to be composed entirely of war pictures,--or,\nrather, fragments of pictures, blended into one astonishing\ncombination: naval battles; burning warships; submarine mines\nexploding; torpedo boats attacking; charges of Cossacks repulsed by\nJapanese infantry; artillery rushing into position; storming of forts;\nlong lines of soldiery advancing through mist. Here were colors of\nblood and fire, tints of morning haze and evening glow, noon-blue\nand starred night-purple, sea-gray and field-green,--most wonderful\nthing!... I suppose that the child of a military or naval officer\nmight, without impropriety, be clad in such a robe. But then--the\nunspeakable pity of things!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe war toys are innumerable: I can attempt to mention only a few of\nthe more remarkable kinds.\n\nJapanese children play many sorts of card games, some of which are\nold, others quite new. There are poetical card games, for example,\nplayed with a pack of which each card bears the text of a poem, or\npart of a poem; and the player should be able to remember the name of\nthe author of any quotation in the set. Then there are geographical\ncard games, in which each of the cards used bears the name, and\nperhaps a little picture, of some famous site, town, or temple; and\nthe player should be able to remember the district and province in\nwhich the mentioned place is situated. The latest novelty in this line\nis a pack of cards with pictures upon them of the Russian war vessels;\nand the player should be able to state what has become of every vessel\nnamed,--whether sunk, disabled, or confined in Port Arthur.\n\nThere is another card game in which the battleships, cruisers, and\ntorpedo craft of both Japan and Russia are represented. The winner in\nthis game destroys his \"captures\" by tearing the cards taken. But the\nshops keep packages of each class of warship cards in stock; and when\nall the destroyers or cruisers of one country have been put _hors\nde combat_, the defeated party can purchase new vessels abroad. One\ntorpedo boat costs about one farthing; but five torpedo boats can be\nbought for a penny.\n\nThe toy-shops are crammed with models of battleships,--in wood, clay,\nporcelain, lead, and tin,--of many sizes and prices. Some of the\nlarger ones, moved by clockwork, are named after Japanese battleships:\nShikishima, Fuji, Mikasa. One mechanical toy represents the sinking of\na Russian vessel by a Japanese torpedo boat. Among cheaper things of\nthis class is a box of colored sand, for the representation of naval\nengagements. Children arrange the sand so as to resemble waves; and\nwith each box of sand are sold two fleets of tiny leaden vessels. The\nJapanese ships are white, and the Russian black; and explosions of\ntorpedoes are to be figured by small cuttings of vermilion paper,\nplanted in the sand.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe children of the poorest classes make their own war toys; and I\nhave been wondering whether those ancient feudal laws (translated\nby Professor Wigmore), which fixed the cost and quality of toys to\nbe given to children, did not help to develop that ingenuity which\nthe little folk display. Recently I saw a group of children in\nour neighborhood playing at the siege of Port Arthur, with fleets\nimprovised out of scraps of wood and some rusty nails. A tub of water\nrepresented Port Arthur. Battleships were figured by bits of plank,\ninto which chop-sticks had been fixed to represent masts, and rolls of\npaper to represent funnels. Little flags, appropriately colored, were\nfastened to the masts with rice paste. Torpedo boats were imaged by\nsplinters, into each of which a short thick nail had been planted to\nindicate a smokestack. Stationary submarine mines were represented\nby small squares of wood, each having one long nail driven into it;\nand these little things, when dropped into water with the nail-head\ndownwards, would keep up a curious bobbing motion for a long time.\nOther squares of wood, having clusters of short nails driven into\nthem, represented floating mines: and the mimic battleships were made\nto drag for these, with lines of thread. The pictures in the Japanese\npapers had doubtless helped the children to imagine the events of the\nwar with tolerable accuracy.\n\nNaval caps for children have become, of course, more in vogue than\never before. Some of the caps bear, in Chinese characters of burnished\nmetal, the name of a battleship, or the words _Nippon Teikoku_\n(Empire of Japan),--disposed like the characters upon the cap of a\nblue-jacket. On some caps, however, the ship's name appears in English\nletters,--Yashima, Fuji, etc.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe play-impulse, I had almost forgotten to say, is shared by the\nsoldiers themselves,--though most of those called to the front do not\nexpect to return in the body. They ask only to be remembered at the\nSpirit-Invoking Shrine (_Sh[=o]konsha_), where the shades of all\nwho die for Emperor and country are believed to gather. The men of\nthe regiments temporarily quartered in our suburb, on their way to\nthe war, found time to play at mimic war with the small folk of\nthe neighborhood. (At all times Japanese soldiers are very kind\nto children; and the children here march with them, join in their\nmilitary songs, and correctly salute their officers, feeling sure\nthat the gravest officer will return the salute of a little child.)\nWhen the last regiment went away, the men distributed toys among\nthe children assembled at the station to give them a parting\ncheer,--hairpins, with military symbols for ornament, to the girls;\nwooden infantry and tin cavalry to the boys. The oddest present was\na small clay model of a Russian soldier's head, presented with the\njocose promise: \"If we come back, we shall bring you some real ones.\"\nIn the top of the head there is a small wire loop, to which a rubber\nstring can be attached. At the time of the war with China, little clay\nmodels of Chinese heads, with very long queues, were favorite toys.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe war has also suggested a variety of new designs for that charming\nobject, the _toko-niwa_. Few of my readers know what a _toko-niwa_, or\n\"alcove-garden,\" is. It is a miniature garden--perhaps less than two\nfeet square--contrived within an ornamental shallow basin of porcelain\nor other material, and placed in the alcove of a guest-room by way\nof decoration. You may see there a tiny pond; a streamlet crossed by\nhumped bridges of Chinese pattern; dwarf trees forming a grove, and\nshading the model of a Shinto temple; imitations in baked clay of\nstone lanterns,--perhaps even the appearance of a hamlet of thatched\ncottages. If the _toko-niwa_ be not too small, you may see real fish\nswimming in the pond, or a pet tortoise crawling among the rockwork.\nSometimes the miniature garden represents H[=o]rai, and the palace of\nthe Dragon-King.\n\nTwo new varieties have come into fashion. One is a model of Port\nArthur, showing the harbor and the forts; and with the materials for\nthe display there is sold a little map, showing how to place certain\ntiny battle-ships, representing the imprisoned and the investing\nfleets. The other _toko-niwa_ represents a Korean or Chinese\nlandscape, with hill ranges and rivers and woods; and the appearance\nof a battle is created by masses of toy soldiers--cavalry, infantry,\nand artillery--in all positions of attack and defense. Minute forts of\nbaked clay, bristling with cannon about the size of small pins, occupy\nelevated positions. When properly arranged the effect is panoramic.\nThe soldiers in the foreground are about an inch long; those a little\nfarther away about half as long; and those upon the hills are no\nlarger than flies.\n\nBut the most remarkable novelty of this sort yet produced is a kind\nof _toko-niwa_ recently on display at a famous shop in Ginza. A label\nbearing the inscription, _Ka[:i]-t['e][:i] no Ikken_ (View of the\nOcean-Bed) sufficiently explained the design. The _su[:i]bon_, or\n\"water-tray,\" containing the display was half filled with rocks\nand sand so as to resemble a sea-bottom; and little fishes appeared\nswarming in the fore-ground. A little farther back, upon an elevation,\nstood Otohim['e], the Dragon-King's daughter, surrounded by her maiden\nattendants, and gazing, with just the shadow of a smile, at two men in\nnaval uniform who were shaking hands,--dead heroes of the war: Admiral\nMakaroff and Commander Hiros['e]!... These had esteemed each other\nin life; and it was a happy thought thus to represent their friendly\nmeeting in the world of Spirits.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThough his name is perhaps unfamiliar to English readers, Commander\nTakeo Hiros['e] has become, deservedly, one of Japan's national\nheroes. On the 27th of March, during the second attempt made to block\nthe entrance to Port Arthur, he was killed while endeavoring to help\na comrade,--a comrade who had formerly saved him from death. For five\nyears Hiros['e] had been a naval attach['e] at St. Petersburg, and had\nmade many friends in Russian naval and military circles. From boyhood\nhis life had been devoted to study and duty; and it was commonly said\nof him that he had no particle of selfishness in his nature. Unlike\nmost of his brother officers, he remained unmarried,--holding that\nno man who might be called on at any moment to lay down his life for\nhis country had a moral right to marry. The only amusements in which\nhe was ever known to indulge were physical exercises; and he was\nacknowledged one of the best _j[=u]jutsu_ (wrestlers) in the empire.\nThe heroism of his death, at the age of thirty-six, had much less to\ndo with the honors paid to his memory than the self-denying heroism of\nhis life.\n\nNow his picture is in thousands of homes, and his name is celebrated\nin every village. It is celebrated also by the manufacture of\nvarious souvenirs, which are sold by myriads. For example, there\nis a new fashion in sleeve-buttons, called _Kinen-botan_, or\n\"Commemoration-buttons.\" Each button bears a miniature portrait of\nthe commander, with the inscription, _Shichi-sh[=o] h[=o]koku_, \"Even\nin seven successive lives--for love of country.\" It is recorded that\nHiros['e] often cited, to friends who criticised his ascetic devotion\nto duty, the famous utterance of Kusunoki Masashig['e], who declared,\nere laying down his life for the Emperor Go-Daigo, that he desired to\ndie for his sovereign in seven successive existences.\n\nBut the highest honor paid to the memory of Hiros['e] is of a sort now\npossible only in the East, though once possible also in the West, when\nthe Greek or Roman patriot-hero might be raised, by the common love of\nhis people, to the place of the Immortals.... Wine-cups of porcelain\nhave been made, decorated with his portrait; and beneath the portrait\nappears, in ideographs of gold, the inscription, _Gunshin Hiros['e]\nCh[=u]sa_. The character \"gun\" signifies war; the character \"_shin_\"\na god,--either in the sense of _divus_ or _deus_, according to\ncircumstances; and the Chinese text, read in the Japanese way, is\n_Ikusa no Kami_. Whether that stern and valiant spirit is really\ninvoked by the millions who believe that no brave soul is doomed to\nextinction, no well-spent life laid down in vain, no heroism cast\naway, I do not know. But, in any event, human affection and gratitude\ncan go no farther than this; and it must be confessed that Old Japan\nis still able to confer honors worth dying for.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBoys and girls in all the children's schools are now singing the Song\nof Hiros['e] Ch[=u]sa, which is a marching song. The words and the\nmusic are published in a little booklet, with a portrait of the late\ncommander upon the cover. Everywhere, and at all hours of the day, one\nhears this song being sung:--\n\n    _He whose every word and deed gave to men an example of what\n    the war-folk of the_ _Empire of Nippon should be,--Commander\n    Hiros['e]: is he really dead?_\n\n    _Though the body die, the spirit dies not. He who wished\n    to be reborn seven times into this world, for the sake of\n    serving his country, for the sake of requiting the Imperial\n    favor,--Commander Hiros['e]: has he really died?_\n\n    _\"Since I am a son of the Country of the Gods, the fire of the\n    evil-hearted Russians cannot touch me!\"--The sturdy Takeo who\n    spoke thus: can he really be dead?..._\n\n    _Nay! that glorious war-death meant undying fame;--beyond a\n    thousand years the valiant heart shall live;--as to a god of\n    war shall reverence be paid to him...._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nObserving the playful confidence of this wonderful people in their\nstruggle for existence against the mightiest power of the West,--their\nperfect trust in the wisdom of their leaders and the valor of their\narmies,--the good humor of their irony when mocking the enemy's\nblunders,--their strange capacity to find, in the world-stirring\nevents of the hour, the same amusement that they would find in\nwatching a melodrama,--one is tempted to ask: \"What would be the\nmoral consequence of a national defeat?\"... It would depend, I think,\nupon circumstances. Were Kuropatkin able to fulfill his rash threat\nof invading Japan, the nation would probably rise as one man. But\notherwise the knowledge of any great disaster would be bravely borne.\nFrom time unknown Japan has been a land of cataclysms,--earth-quakes\nthat ruin cities in the space of a moment; tidal waves, two hundred\nmiles long, sweeping whole coast populations out of existence; floods\nsubmerging hundreds of leagues of well-tilled fields; eruptions\nburying provinces. Calamities like this have disciplined the race in\nresignation and in patience; and it has been well trained also to bear\nwith courage all the misfortunes of war. Even by the foreign peoples\nthat have been most closely in contact with her, the capacities of\nJapan remained unguessed. Perhaps her power to resist aggression is\nfar surpassed by her power to endure.","title":"The Romance of the Milky Way, and Other Studies & Stories","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":32688}