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EXOTICS AND RETROSPECTIVES

IN GHOSTLY JAPAN

SHADOWINGS

SHADOWINGS

BY LAFCADIO HEARN

LECTURER ON ENGLISH LITERATURE IN
THE IMPERIAL UNIVERSITY, TOKYO, JAPAN

AUTHOR OF "EXOTICS AND RETROSPEC
TIVES," "IN GHOSTLY JAPAN," ETC., ETC

BOSTON

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1907

145781

Copyright, 1900,
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY

All rights reserved

S. J. PAKKIULI, A Co. HOSTON, U. S. A.

Contents

STORIES FROM STRANGE BOOKS:

I. THE RECONCILIATION 5

II. A LEGEND OF FCGEN-BOSATSU IS

III. THE SCREEN-MAIDEN 23

IV. THE CORPSE-RIDER 33

V. THE SYMPATHY OF BENTEN 41

VI. THE GRATITUDE OF THE SAMEBITO .... 57

JAPANESE STUDIES:

I. St Mi '• • 71

II. JAPANESE FEMALE NAMES 105

III. OLD JAPANESE SONGS *S7

FANTASIES:

I. NocmuCjE 197

II. A MYSTERY OF CROWDS 203

III. GOTHIC HORROR 213

IV. LEVITATION 225

V. NIGHTMARE-TOUCH 235

VI. READINGS FROM A DREAM-BOOK 249

VII. IN A PAIR OF EYES 265

Illustrations

Facing page
PLATE I ................ 72

1-2, Young Sfmf.

3-4, Haru-Zemi, also called Nawasbiro-Zam.

PLATE II ................ 76

" Shinne-Sbinne," also called Yamor-Zimi, and

PLATE HI ............ .... 80

PLATE IV .. .84

1-2, Mugikari-Zemi, also called Gosbiki-Zemi.

3, Higurasbi.

4, "Min-Min-Zemi"

PLATE V ................ 88

1, "Tsuku-tsuku-Bdshi," also called "Kutsttr-kutsu-

B5sbi" etc. (Cosmopsaltria Opalifera ?)

2, Tsurigane-Zemi.

3, Tbe Pbantom.

STORIES FROM STRANGE BOOKS

II avait vu brQler d' Granges pierres,
Jadis, dans les brasiers de la pensee . . .
EMILE VERHAEREN

The Reconciliation1

'The original story is to be found In the curious volume entitled
Kottfeki-Monogatari

The Reconciliation

n

THERE was a young Samurai of Kyoto who
had been reduced to poverty by the ruin
of his lord, and found himself obliged to
leave his home, and to take service with the
Governor of a distant province. Before quitting
the capital, this Samurai divorced his wife, — a
good and beautiful woman, — under the belief
that he could better obtain promotion by another
alliance. He then married the daughter of a
family of some distinction, and took her with
him to the district whither he had been called.

But it was in the time of the thoughtlessness
of youth, and the sharp experience of want, that
the Samurai could not understand the worth of
the affection so lightly cast away. His second
marriage did not prove a happy one ; the charac
ter of his new wife was hard and selfish ; and he
5

6 Shadowings

soon found every cause to think with regret of
Kyoto days. Then he discovered that he still
loved his first wife — loved her more than he
could ever love the second ; and he began to feel
how unjust and how thankless he had been.
Gradually his repentance deepened into a re
morse that left him no peace of mind. Memories
of the woman he had wronged — her gentle
speech, her smiles, her dainty, pretty ways, her
faultless patience — continually haunted him.
Sometimes in dreams he saw her at her loom,
weaving as when she toiled night and day to
help him during the years of their distress : more
often he saw her kneeling alone in the desolate
little room where he had left her, veiling her
tears with her poor worn sleeve. Even in the
hours of official duty, his thoughts would wander
back to her : then he would ask himself how she
was living, what she was doing. Something in
his heart assured him that she could not accept
another husband, and that she never would refuse
to pardon him. And he secretly resolved to seek
her out as soon as he could return to Kyoto, —
then to beg her forgiveness, to take her back, to
do everything that a man could do to make
atonement. But the years went by.

The Reconciliation 7

At last the Governor's official term expired,
and the Samurai was free. " Now I will go back
to my dear one," he vowed to himself. " Ah,
what a cruelty, — what a folly to have divorced
her ! " He sent his second wife to her own
people (she had given him no children); and
hurrying to Kyoto, he went at once to seek his
former companion, — not allowing himself even
the time to change his travelling-garb.

When he reached the street where she used to
live, it was late in the night, — the night of the
tenth day of the ninth month; — and the city
was silent as a cemetery. But a bright moon
made everything visible ; and he found the house
without difficulty. It had a deserted look: tall
weeds were growing on the roof. He knocked
at the sliding-doors, and no one answered. Then,
finding that the doors had not been fastened from
within, he pushed them open, and entered. The
front room was matless and empty: a chilly wind
was blowing through crevices in the planking;
and the moon shone through a ragged break in
the wall of the alcove. Other rooms presented
a like forlorn condition. The house, to all seem
ing, was unoccupied. Nevertheless, the Samurai

8 Shadowings

determined to visit one other apartment at the
further end of the dwelling, — a very small room
that had been his wife's favorite resting-place.
Approaching the sliding-screen that closed it, he
was startled to perceive a glow within. He
pushed the screen aside, and uttered a cry of
joy ; for he saw her there, — sewing by the light
of a paper-lamp. Her eyes at the same instant
met his own ; and with a happy smile she greeted
him, — asking only : — " When did you come
back to Kyoto ? How did you find your way
here to me, through all those black rooms ? "
The years had not changed her. Still she seemed
as fair and young as in his fondest memory of
her ; — but sweeter than any memory there came
to him the music of her voice, with its trembling
of pleased wonder.

Then joyfully he took his place beside her,
and told her all : — how deeply he repented his
selfishness, — how wretched he had been without
her, — how constantly he had regretted her, —
how long he had hoped and planned to make
amends; — caressing her the while, and asking
her forgiveness over and over again. She an
swered him, with loving gentleness, according to
his heart's desire, — entreating him to cease all

The Reconciliation $

self-reproach. It was wrong, she said, that he
should have allowed himself to suffer on her ac
count: she had always felt that she was not
worthy to be his wife. She knew that he had
separated from her, notwithstanding, only be
cause of poverty ; and while he lived with her,
he had always been kind; and she had never
ceased to pray for his happiness. But even if
there had been a reason for speaking of amends,
this honorable visit would be ample amends ; —
what greater happiness than thus to see him
again, though it were only for a moment?
" Only for a moment ! " he answered, with a
glad laugh, — "say, rather, for the time of
seven existences! My loved one, unless you
forbid, I am coming back to live with you al
ways — always — always! Nothing shall ever
separate us again. Now I have means and
friends : we need not fear poverty. To-mor
row my goods will be brought here; and my
servants will come to wait upon you; and we
shall make this house beautiful. . . . To-night,"
he added, apologetically, " I came thus late —
without even changing my dress — only because
of the longing 1 had to see you, and to tell you
this." She seemed greatly pleased by these

10 Shadowings

words; and in her turn she told him about all
that had happened in Kyoto since the time of
his departure, — excepting her own sorrows, of
which she sweetly refused to speak. They
chatted far into the night: then she conducted
him to a warmer room, facing south, — a room
that had been their bridal chamber in former
time. " Have you no one in the house to help
you ? " he asked, as she began to prepare the
couch for him. "No," she answered, laughing
cheerfully : " I could not afford a servant ; — so
I have been living all alone." "You will have
plenty of servants to-morrow," he said, — " good
servants, — and everything else that you need."
They lay down to rest, — not to sleep : they had
too much to tell each other; — and they talked
of the past and the present and the future, until
the dawn was grey. Then, involuntarily, the
Samurai closed his eyes, and slept.

When he awoke, the daylight was streaming
through the chinks of the sliding-shutters ; and
he found himself, to his utter amazement, lying
upon the naked boards of a mouldering floor.
. . . Had he only dreamed a dream? No:
she was there ; — she slept. ... He bent above

The Reconciliation 11

her, — and looked, — and shrieked ; — for the
sleeper had no face ! . . Before him, wrapped in
its grave-sheet only, lay the corpse of a woman,
— a corpse so wasted that little remained save the
bones, and the long black tangled hair.

Slowly, — as he stood shuddering and sicken
ing in the sun, — the icy horror yielded to a des
pair so intolerable, a pain so atrocious, that he
clutched at the mocking shadow of a doubt.
Feigning ignorance of the neighborhood, he
ventured to ask his way to the house in
which his wife had lived.

" There is no one in that house," said the per
son questioned. " It used to belong to the wife
of a Samurai who left the city several years ago.
He divorced her in order to marry another
woman before he went away; and she fretted
a great deal, and so became sick. She had no
relatives in Kyoto, and nobody to care for her ;
and she died in the autumn of the same year, —
on the tenth day of the ninth month. . ."

A Legend of Fugen-Bosatsu1

1 From the old story-book, Jikkwt-sbo

A Legend of Fugen-Bosatsu

THERE was once a very pious and learned
priest, called Shoku Shonin, who lived in
the province of Harima. For many years
he meditated daily upon the chapter of Fugen-
Bosatsu [the Bodhisattva Samantabhadra] in the
Sutra of the Lotos of the Good Law; and he
used to pray, every morning and evening, that
he might at some time be permitted to behold
Fugen-Bosatsu as a living presence, and in the
form described in the holy text.1

1 The priest's desire was probably inspired by the
promises recorded in the chapter entitled " The Encourage
ment of Samantabhadra" (see Kern's translation of the
Saddharma Pundarika in the Sacred Books of ibe East, —
pp. 433-434) : — "Then the Bodhisattva Mahasattva Saman
tabhadra said to the Lord: . . . 'When a preacher who
applies himself to this Dharmaparyiya shall take a walk,
then, O Lord, will I mount a white elephant with six tusks,
and betake myself to the place where that preacher is
walking, in order to protect this Dharmaparyaya. And

15

16 Shadowings

One evening, while he was reciting the Sutra,
drowsiness overcame him; and he fell asleep
leaning upon his kyosoku.1 Then he dreamed;
and in his dream a voice told him that, in order
to see Fugen-Bosatsu, he must go to the house
of a certain courtesan, known as the " Yujo-no-
Choja,"2 who lived in the town of Kanzaki.
Immediately upon awakening he resolved to go
to Kanzaki ; — and, making all possible haste, he
reached the town by the evening of the next
day.

When he entered the house of the yujo, he
found many persons already there assembled —
mostly young men of the capital, who had been
attracted to Kanzaki by the fame of the woman's

when that preacher, applying himself to this Dharma-
paryaya, forgets, be it but a single word or syllable, then
will I mount the white elephant twith six tusks, and show
my face to that preacher, and repeat this entire Dharma-
parySya." — But these promises refer to "the end of
time."

1 The Kyosoku is a kind of padded arm-rest, or arm-
stool, upon which the priest leans one arm while reading.
The use of such an arm-rest is not confined, however, to
the Buddhist clergy.

2 A yuj5, in old days, was a singing-girl as well as a
courtesan. The term " Yujo-no-Choja," in this case,
would mean simply " the first (or best) of yujo."

A Legend of Fugen-Bosatsu 17

beauty. They were feasting and drinking ; and
the yujo was playing a small hand-drum (tsu-
%umi), which she used very skilfully, and sing
ing a song. The song which she sang was an
old Japanese song about a famous shrine in
the town of Murozumi; and the words were
these : —

Within the sacred water-tank l of Murozumi in

Suwo,

Even though no wind be blowing,
The surface of the water is always rippling.

The sweetness of the voice filled everybody
with surprise and delight. As the priest, who
had taken a place apart, listened and wondered,
the girl suddenly fixed her eyes upon him ; and
in the same instant he saw her form change into
the form of Fugen-Bosatsu, emitting from her
brow a beam of light that seemed to pierce be
yond the limits of the universe, and riding a
snow-white elephant with six tusks. And still

1 Mitarai. Mitarai (or mitarashi) is the name especially
given to the water-tanks, or water-fonts — of stone or
bronze — placed before Shinto shrines in order that the
worshipper may purify his lips and hands before making
prayer. Buddhist tanks are not so named.
2

18 Shadowings

she sang — but the song also was now trans
formed; and the words came thus to the ears
of the priest: —

On the Vast Sea of Cessation,

Though the Winds of the Six Desires and of the

Five Corruptions never blow,
Yet the surface of that deep is always covered
With the billowings of Attainment to the Real-

ity-in-Itself.

Dazzled by the divine ray, the priest closed
his eyes : but through their lids he still distinctly
saw the vision. When he opened them again, it
was gone : he saw only the girl with her hand-
drum, and heard only the song about the water
of Murozumi. But he found that as often as
he shut his eyes he could see Fugen-Bosatsu
on the six-tusked elephant, and could hear the
mystic Song of the Sea of Cessation. The other
persons present saw only the yujo : they had not
beheld the manifestation.

Then the singer suddenly disappeared from
the banquet -room — none could say when or
how. From that moment the revelry ceased;
and gloom took the place of joy. After having
waited and sought for the girl to no purpose,

A Legend of Fugen-Bosatsu 19

the company dispersed in great sorrow. Last
of all, the priest departed, bewildered by the
emotions of the evening. But scarcely had he
passed beyond the gate, when theyujo appeared
before him, and said: — "Friend, do not speak
yet to any one of what you have seen this
night." And with these words she vanished
away, — leaving the air filled with a delicious

fragrance.

•
* *

i

The monk by whom the foregoing legend was
recorded, comments upon it thus : — The condi
tion of a yujo is low and miserable, since she is
condemned to serve the lusts of men. Who
therefore could imagine that such a woman
might be the nirmanakaya, or incarnation, of
a Bodhisattva. But we must remember that
the Buddhas and the Bodhisattvas may appear
in this world in countless different forms ; choos
ing, for the purpose of their divine compassion,
even the most humble or contemptible shapes
when such shapes can serve them to lead men
into the true path, and to save them from the
perils of illusion.

The Screen-Maiden1

» Related in the Otogi-Hjraku-Monog atari

The Screen-Maiden

SAYS the old Japanese author, Hakubai-En
Rosui : — *

" In Chinese and in Japanese books there
are related many stories, — both of ancient and
of modern times, — about pictures that were so
beautiful as to exercise a magical influence upon
the beholder. And concerning such beautiful
pictures, — whether pictures of flowers or of birds
or of people, painted by famous artists, — it is
further told that the shapes of the creatures or

i He died in the eighteenth year of Kyoho (1733). The
painter to whom he refers — better known to collectors as
Hishigawa Kichibei Moronobu — flourished during the
latter part of the seventeenth century. Beginning his
career as a dyer's apprentice, he won his reputation as an
artist about 1680, when he may be said to have founded
the Ukiyo-ye school of illustration. Hishigawa was especially
a delineator of what are called furyu, (" elegant manners "),
— the aspects of life among the upper classes of society.

23

24 Shadowings

the persons, therein depicted, would separate
themselves from the paper or the silk upon which
they had been painted, and would perform vari
ous acts ; — so that they became, by their own
will, really alive. We shall not now repeat any
of the stories of this class which have been known
to everybody from ancient times. But even in
modern times the fame of the pictures painted
by Hishigawa Kichibei — ' Hishigawa's Portraits '
— has become widespread in the land."

He then proceeds to relate the following story
about one of the so-called portraits : —

There was a young scholar of Ky5to whose
name was Tokkei. He used to live in the street
called Muromachi. One evening, while on his
way home after a visit, his attention was attracted
by an old single -leaf screen (t suit ate), exposed
for sale before the shop of a dealer in second
hand goods. It was only a paper-covered screen ;
but there was painted upon it the full-length
figure of a girl which caught the young man's
fancy. The price asked was very small : Tokkei
bought the screen, and took it home with him.

When he looked again at the screen, in the
solitude of his own room, the picture seemed to

The Screen-Maiden 2£

him much more beautiful than before. Appar
ently it was a real likeness, — the portrait of a
girl fifteen or sixteen years old ; and every little
detail in the painting of the hair, eyes, eyelashes,
mouth, had been executed with a delicacy and
a truth beyond praise. The manajiri1 seemed
"like a lotos -blossom courting favor "; the lips
were " like the smile of a red flower " ; the whole
young face was inexpressibly sweet. If the real
girl so portrayed had been equally lovely, no man
could have looked upon her without losing his
heart. And Tokkei believed that she must have
been thus lovely ; — for the figure seemed alive,
— ready to reply to anybody who might speak
to it.

Gradually, as he continued to gaze at the pic
ture, he felt himself bewitched by the charm of
it. " Can there really have been in this world,"
he murmured to himself, " so delicious a creature ?
How gladly would I give my life — nay, a thou
sand years of life ! — to hold her in my arms

1 Also written mejiri, — the exterior canthus of the eye.
The Japanese (like the old Greek and the old Arabian poets)
have many curious dainty words and similes to express
particular beauties of the hair, eyes, eyelids, lips, fingers,
etc.

26 Shadow! ngs

even for a moment ! " (The Japanese author
says " for a few seconds.") In short, he became
enamoured of the picture, — so much enamoured
of it as to feel that he never could love any
woman except the person whom it represented.
Yet that person, if still alive, could no longer
resemble the painting: perhaps she had been
buried long before he was born !

Day by day, nevertheless, this hopeless passion
grew upon him. He could not eat ; he could not
sleep: neither could he occupy his, mind with
those studies which had formerly delighted him.
He would sit for hours before the picture, talking
to it, — neglecting or forgetting everything else.
And at last he fell sick — so sick that he believed
himself going to die.

Now among the friends of Tokkei there was
one venerable scholar who knew many strange
things about old pictures and about young hearts.
This aged scholar, hearing of Tokkei's illness,
came to visit him, and saw the screen, and under
stood what had happened. Then Tokkei, being
questioned, confessed everything to his friend,
and declared : — " If I cannot find such a woman,
I shall die."

The Screen-Maiden 27

The old man said : —

" That picture was painted by Hishigawa
Kichibei, — painted from life. The person whom
it represented is not now in the world. But it is
said that Hishigawa Kichibei painted her mind as
well as her form, and that her spirit lives in the
picture. So I think that you can win her."

Tokkei half rose from his bed, and stared
eagerly at the speaker.

" You must give her a name," the old man
continued ; — " and you must sit before her pic
ture every day, and keep your thoughts constantly
fixed upon her, and call her gently by the name
which you have given her, until she answers
you. . . ."

" Answers me ! " exclaimed the lover, in
breathless amazement.

" Oh, yes," the adviser responded, " she will
certainly answer you. But you must be ready,
when she answers you, to present her with what
I am going to tell you. ..."

" 1 will give her my life ! " cried Tokkei.

" No," said the old man ; — " you will present
her with a cup of wine that has been bought at
one hundred different wine -shops. Then she will
come out of the screen to accept the wine. After

28 Shadowings

that, probably she herself will tell you what
to do."

With these words the old man went away.
His advice aroused Tokkei from despair. At
once he seated himself before the picture, and
called it by the name of a girl — (what name the
Japanese narrator has forgotten to tell us) — over
and over again, very tenderly. That day it
made no answer, nor the next day, nor the next.
But Tokkei did not lose faith or patience; and
after many days it suddenly one evening an
swered to its name, —

"Hat!" (Yes.)

Then quickly, quickly, some of -the wine from
a hundred different wine-shops was poured out,
and reverentially presented in a little cup. And
the girl stepped from the screen, and walked
upon the matting of the room, and knelt to
take the cup from Tokkei's hand, — asking, with
a delicious smile : —

" How could you love me so much ? "

Says the Japanese narrator : " She was much
more beautiful than the picture, — beautiful to
the tips of her finger-nails, — beautiful also in
heart and temper, — lovelier than anybody else
in the world." What answer Tokkei made to

The Screen-Maiden 29

her question is not recorded : it will have to be
imagined.

" But will you not soon get tired of me ? " she
asked.

" Never while I live ! " he protested.

"And after — ?" she persisted; — for the
Japanese bride is not satisfied with love for one
life-time only.

" Let us pledge ourselves to each other," he
entreated, " for the time of seven existences."

" If you are ever unkind to me," she said, " I
will go back to the screen."

They pledged each other. I suppose that
Tokkei was a good boy, — for his bride never
returned to the screen. The space that she had
occupied upon it remained a blank.

Exclaims the Japanese author, —
" How very seldom do such things happen in
this world ! "

The Corpse-Rider1
9

1 From the Konscki-Monogattrt

The Corpse-Rider

THE body was cold as ice; the heart had
long ceased to beat: yet there were no
other signs of death. Nobody even spoke
of burying the woman. She had died of grief
and anger at having been divorced. It would
have been useless to bury her, — because the last
undying wish of a dying person for vengeance
can burst asunder any tomb and rift the heaviest
graveyard stone. People who lived near the
house in which she was lying fled from their
homes. They knew that she was only waiting
for the return of the man who had divorced her.
At the time of her death he was on a journey.
When he came back and was told what had hap
pened, terror seized him. " If I can find no help
before dark," he thought to himself, " she will
tear me to pieces." It was yet only the Hour of
3 33

34 Shadow! ngs

the Dragon ; l but he knew that he had no time
to lose.

He went at once to an inyosbi* and begged for
succor. The inyosbi knew the story of the dead
woman ; and he had seen the body. He said to
the supplicant : — "A very great danger threatens
you. I will try to save you. But you must
promise to do whatever I shall tell you to do.
There is only one way by which you can be
saved. It is a fearful way. But unless you find
the courage to attempt it, she will tear you limb
from limb. If you can be brave, come to me
again in the evening before sunset." The man
shuddered ; but he promised to do whatever
should be required of him.

At sunset the inyosbi went with him to the
house where the body was lying. The inyoshi
pushed open the sliding-doors, and told his client
to enter. It was rapidly growing dark. " I dare

1 Tatsu no Koku, or the Hour of the Dragon, by old
Japanese time, began at about eight o'clock in the morn
ing.

2 Inyosbi, a professor or master of the science of in-yo,
— the old Chinese nature-philosophy, based upon the
theory of a male and a female principle pervading the
universe.

The Corpse-Rider 3!>

not ! " gasped the man, quaking from head to
foot ; — "I dare not even look at her ! " " You
will have to do much more than look at her,"
declared the inyoshi ; — " and you promised to
obey. Go in ! " He forced the trembler into
the house and led him to the side of the corpse.

The dead woman was lying on her face.
" Now you must get astride upon her," said the
inyoshi, " and sit firmly on her back, as if you
were riding a horse. . . . Come ! — you must do
it ! " The man shivered so that the inyosbi had
to support him — shivered horribly; but he
obeyed. " Now take her hair in your hands,"
commanded the inyoshi , — " half in the right
hand, half in the left. ... So ! ... You must
grip it like a bridle. Twist your hands in it —
both hands — tightly. That is the way! . . .
Listen to me ! You must stay like that till morn
ing. You will have reason to be afraid in the
night — plenty of reason. But whatever may
happen, never let go of her hair. If you let go,
— even for one second, — she will tear you into
gobbets ! "

The inyoshi then whispered some mysterious
words into the ear of the body, and said to its

36 Shadow! ngs

rider : — " Now, for my own sake, I must leave
you alone with her. . . . Remain as you are !
. . . Above all things, remember that you must
not let go of her hair." And he went away, —
closing the doors behind him.

Hour after hour the man sat upon the corpse in
black fear ; — and the hush of the night deepened
and deepened about him till he screamed to break
it. Instantly the body sprang beneath him, as to
cast him off; and the dead woman cried out
loudly, " Oh, how heavy it is ! Yet I shall bring
that fellow here now ! "

Then tall she rose, and leaped to the doors,
and flung them open, and rushed into the night,
— always bearing the weight of the man. But
he, shutting his eyes, kept his hands twisted
in her long hair, — tightly, tightly, — though
fearing with such a fear that he could not even
moan. How far she went, he never knew.
He saw nothing : he heard only the sound of
her naked feet in the dark, — picha-picha,
picba-picba, — and the hiss of her breathing as
she ran.

At last she turned, and ran back into the
house, and lay down upon the floor exactly as

The Corpse-Rider 37

at first. Under the man she panted and moaned
till the cocks began to crow. Thereafter she lay
still.

But the man, with chattering teeth, sat upon
her until the inyosbi came at sunrise. " So you
did not let go of her hair! " — observed the in
yosbi t greatly pleased. " That is well . . . Now
you can stand up." He whispered again into the
ear of the corpse, and then said to the man : —
" You must have passed a fearful night ; but
nothing else could have saved you. Hereafter
you may feel secure from her vengeance."

*
* *

The conclusion of this story I do not think to
be morally satisfying. It is not recorded that the
corpse-rider became insane, or that his hair turned
white : we are told only that " he worshipped the
inyosbi with tears of gratitude." A note ap
pended to the recital is equally disappointing.
"It is reported," the Japanese author says,
" that a grandchild of the man [who rode the
corpse] still survives, and that a grandson of
the inyosbi is at this very time living in a vil-

145781

38 Shadowings

lage called Otokunoi-mura [probably pronounced
Otonoi-mura]."

This village-name does not appear in any Jap
anese directory of to-day. But the names of
many towns and villages have been changed
since the foregoing story was written.

The Sympathy of Benten1

9 V ;' ;

4The original story is in the Otogi-Hyaku-Monogatari

The Sympathy of Benten

¥

IN Kyoto there is a famous temple called Ama-
dera. Sadazumi Shinno, the fifth son of
the Emperor Seiwa, passed the greater part
of his life there as a priest ; and the graves of
many celebrated persons are to be seen in the
temple-grounds.

But the present edifice is not the ancient Ama-
dera. The original temple, after the lapse of ten
centuries, fell into such decay that it had to be
entirely rebuilt in the fourteenth year of Genroku
(1701 A. D.).

A great festival was held to celebrate the re
building of the Amadera ; and among the thou
sands of persons who attended that festival there
was a young scholar and poet named Hanagaki
Baishu. He wandered about the newly-laid-out
grounds and gardens, delighted by all that he saw,
until he reached the place of a spring at which he
41

42 Shadowings

had often drunk in former times. He was then
surprised to find that the soil about the spring
had been dug away, so as to form a square pond,
and that at one corner of this pond there had
been set up a wooden tablet bearing the words
Tanjo-Sui (" Birth- Water ").1 He also saw
that a small, but very handsome temple of the
Goddess Benten had been erected beside the
pond. While he was looking at this new tem
ple, a sudden gust of wind blew to his feet a tan-
%aku,2 on which the following poem had been
written : —

Shirushi ar&o
Iwai zo somuru

Tama hoki,
Torute* bakari no
Chigiri nar&omo.

This poem — a poem on first love (hatsu koi),
composed by the famous Shunrei Kyo — was not

1 The word tanjo (birth) should here be understood in
its mystical Buddhist meaning of new life or rebirth, rather
than in the western signification of birth.

2 Tan^aku is the name given to the long strips or rib
bons of paper, usually colored, upon which poems are
written perpendicularly. Poems written upon tan^aku are
suspended to trees in flower, to wind-bells, to any beautiful
object in which the poet has found an inspiration.

The Sympathy of Benten 43

unfamiliar to him ; but it had been written
upon the tan^aku by a female hand, and so
exquisitely that he could scarcely believe his
eyes. Something in the form of the charac
ters, — an indefinite grace, — suggested that period
of youth between childhood and womanhood ;
and the pure rich color of the ink seemed to
bespeak the purity and goodness of the writer's
heart.1

Baishu carefully folded up the tan^ahu, and
took it home with him. When he looked at it
again the writing appeared to him even more
wonderful than at first. His knowledge in calig-
raphy assured him only that the poem had been
written by some girl who was very young, very
intelligent, and probably very gentle-hearted.

1 It is difficult for the inexperienced European eye to
distinguish in Chinese or Japanese writing those character
istics implied by our term " hand " — in the sense of indi
vidual style. But the Japanese scholar never forgets the
peculiarities of a handwriting once seen ; and he can even
guess at the approximate age of the writer. Chinese and
Japanese authors claim that the color (quality) of the ink
used tells something of the character of the writer. As
every person grounds or prepares his or her own ink, the
deeper and clearer black would at least indicate something
of personal carefulness and of the sense of beauty.

44 Shadowings

But this assurance sufficed to shape within his
mind the image of a very charming person ; and
he soon found himself in love with the unknown.
Then his first resolve was to seek out the writer
of the verses, and, if possible, make her his wife.
. . . Yet how was he to find her ? Who was
she ? Where did she live ? Certainly he could
hope to find her only through the favor of the
Gods.

But presently it occurred to him that the
Gods might be very willing to lend their aid.
The tan^ahu had come to him while he was
standing in front of the temple of Benten-Sama ;
and it was to this divinity in particular that lovers
were wont to pray for happy union. This reflec
tion impelled him to beseech the Goddess for
assistance. He went at once to the temple of
Benten -of -the -Birth -Water ( Tanjo-sui -no -Ben-
ten) in the grounds of the Amadera ; and there,
with all the fervor of his heart, he made his
petition : — " O Goddess, pity me ! — help me
to find where the young person lives who wrote
the tan^ahu ! — vouchsafe me but one chance to
meet her, — even if only for a moment ! " And
after having made this prayer, he began to per
form a seven days' religious service (nanuka

The Sympathy of Benten 4£

mairi) l in honor of the Goddess ; vowing at
the same time to pass the seventh night in cease
less worship before her shrine.

Now on the seventh night, — the night of his
vigil, — during the hour when the silence is most
deep, he heard at the main gateway of the temple-
grounds a voice calling for admittance. Another
voice from within answered ; the gate was opened ;
and Baishu saw an old man of majestic appear
ance approaching with slow steps. This vener
able person was clad in robes of ceremony ; and
he wore upon his snow-white head a black cap
(ebosbi) of the form indicating high rank.
Reaching the little temple of Benten, he knelt
down in front of it, as if respectfully awaiting
some order. Then the outer door of the temple
was opened ; the hanging curtain of bamboo
behind it, concealing the inner sanctuary, was
rolled half-way up ; and a cbigo 2 came forward,

1 There are many kinds of religious exercises called
mairi. The performer of a nanuka-mairi pledges himself
to pray at a certain temple every day for seven days in
succession.

2 The term cbigo usually means the page of a noble
household, especially an Imperial page. The cbigo who

46 Shadowings

— a beautiful boy, with long hair tied back in
the ancient manner. He stood at the threshold,
and said to the old man in a clear loud voice : —

" There is a person here who has been praying
for a love-union not suitable to his present con
dition, and otherwise difficult to bring about.
But as the young man is worthy of Our pity, you
have been called to see whether something can
be done for him. If there should prove to be
any relation between the parties from the period
of a former birth, you will introduce them to
each other."

On receiving this command, the old man
bowed respectfully to the chigo : then, rising, he
drew from the pocket of his long left sleeve a
crimson cord. One end of this cord he passed
round Baishu's body, as if to bind him with it.
The other end he put into the flame of one of
the temple -lamps ; and while the cord was there
burning, he waved his hand three times, as if to
summon somebody out of the dark.

Immediately, in the direction of the Amadera, a
sound of coming steps was heard ; and in another

appears in this story is of course a supernatural being, —
the court-messenger of the Goddess, and her mouthpiece.

The Sympathy of Benten 47

moment a girl appeared, — a charming girl, fif -
teen or sixteen years old. She approached grace
fully, but very shyly, — hiding the lower part of
her face with a fan ; and she knelt down beside
Baishu. The chigo then said to Baishu : —

" Recently you have been suffering much
heart -pain ; and this desperate love of yours
has even impaired your health. We could not
allow you to remain in so unhappy a condi
tion ; and We therefore summoned the Old-
Man-under-the-Moon * to make you acquainted
with the writer of that tan^ahu. She is now
beside you."

With these words, the chigo retired behind the
bamboo curtain. Then the old man went away
as he had come ; and the young girl followed
him. Simultaneously Baishu heard the great bell
of the Amadera sounding the hour of dawn. 'He
prostrated himself in thanksgiving before the
shrine of Benten-of-the-Birth-Water, . and pro
ceeded homeward, — feeling as if awakened from
some delightful dream, — happy at having seen

1 Gekkawo. This is a poetical appellation for the
God of Marriage, more usually known as Musubi-no-kami.
Throughout this story there is an interesting mingling of
Shinto and Buddhist ideas.

48 Shado wings

the charming person whom he had so fervently
prayed to meet, — unhappy also because of the
fear that he might never meet her again.

But scarcely had he passed from the gateway
into the street, when he saw a young girl walking
alone in the same direction that he was going ;
and, even in the dusk of the dawn, he recognized
her at once as the person to whom he had been
introduced before the temple of Benten. As he
quickened his pace to overtake her, she turned
and saluted him with a graceful bow. Then for
the first time he ventured to speak to her ; and
she answered him in a voice of which the sweet
ness filled his heart with joy. Through the yet
silent streets they walked on, chatting happily,
till they found themselves before the house
where Baishu lived. There he paused — spoke
to the girl of his hopes and fears. Smiling, she
asked : — "Do you not know that I was sent for
to become your wife ? " And she entered with
him.

Becoming his wife, she delighted him beyond
expectation by the charm of her mind and heart.
Moreover, he found her to be much more accom
plished than he had supposed. Besides being

The Sympathy of Benten 49

able to write so wonderfully, she could paint
beautiful pictures; she knew the art of arrang
ing flowers, the art of embroidery, the art of
music ; she could weave and sew ; and she knew
everything in regard to the management of
a house.

It was in the early autumn that the young
people had met; and they lived together in
perfect accord until the winter season began.
Nothing, during those months, occurred to dis
turb their peace. Baishu's love for his gentle
wife only strengthened with the passing of time.
Yet, strangely enough, he remained ignorant of
her history, — knew nothing about her family.
Of such matters she had never spoken; and,
as the Gods had given her to him, he imagined
that it would not be proper to question her. But
neither the Old-Man-under-the-Moon nor any
one else came — as he had feared — to take her
away. Nobody even made any inquiries about
her. And the neighbors, for some undiscover-
able reason, acted as if totally unaware of her
presence.

Baishu wondered at all this. But stranger
experiences were awaiting him.

4

£0 Shadowings

One winter morning he happened to be pass
ing through a somewhat remote quarter of the
city, when he heard himself loudly called by
name, and saw a man-servant making signs to
him from the gateway of a private residence.
As Baishu did not know the man's face, and did
not have a single acquaintance in that part of
Kyoto, he was more than startled by so abrupt a
summons. But the servant, coming forward,
saluted him with the utmost respect, and said,
" My master greatly desires the honor of speaking
with you : deign to enter for a moment." After
an instant of hesitation, Baishu allowed himself
to be conducted to the house. A dignified
and richly dressed person, who seemed to be
the master, welcomed him at the entrance, and
led him to the guest-room. When the courte
sies due upon a first meeting had been fully
exchanged, the host apologized for the informal
manner of his invitation, and said : —

" It must have seemed to you very rude of us
to call you in such a way. But perhaps you will
pardon our impoliteness when I tell you that we
acted thus upon what I firmly believe to have
been an inspiration from the Goddess Benten.
Now permit me to explain.

The Sympathy of Benten ">1

" I have a daughter, about sixteen years old,
who can write rather well,1 and do other things
in the common way : she has the ordinary nature
of woman. As we were anxious to make her
happy by finding a good husband for her, we
prayed the Goddess Benten to help us ; and we
sent to every temple of Benten in the city a
tan^aku written by the girl. Some nights later,
the Goddess appeared to me in a dream, and
said: 'We have heard your prayer, and have
already introduced your daughter to the person
who is to become her husband. During the
coming winter he will visit you.' As I did not
understand this assurance that a presentation had
been made, I felt some doubt; I thought that
the dream might have been only a common
dream, signifying nothing. But last night again
I saw Benten-Sama in a dream ; and she said to
me : ' To-morrow the young man, of whom [

1 As it is the old Japanese rule that parents should
speak depreciatingly of their children's accomplishments
the phrase " rather well " in this connection would mean,
for the'visitor, " wonderfully well." For the same reason
the expressions "common way" and " ordinary nature,"
as subsequently used, would imply almost the reverse of
the literal meaning.

J2 Shadowings

once spoke to you, will come to this street : then
you can call him into your house, and ask him
to become the husband of your daughter. He
is a good young man ; and later in life he will
obtain a much higher rank than he now holds.'
Then Benten-Sama told me your name, your
age, your birthplace, and described your features
and dress so exactly that my servant found no
difficulty in recognizing you by the indications
which I was able to give him."

This explanation bewildered Baishu instead of
reassuring him ; and his only reply was a formal
return of thanks for the honor which the master
of the house had spoken of doing him. But
when the host invited him to another room, for
the purpose of presenting him to the young
lady, his embarrassment became extreme. Yet
he could not reasonably decline the introduc
tion. He could not bring himself, under such
extraordinary circumstances, to announce that he
already had a wife, — a wife given to him by
the Goddess Benten herself ; a wife from whom
he could not even think of separating. So, in
silence and trepidation, he followed his host to
the apartment indicated.

The Sympathy of Benfen $}

Then what was his amazement to discover,
when presented to the daughter of the house,
that she was the very same person whom he
had already taken to wife!

The same, — yet not the same.

She to whom he had been introduced by the
Old-Man-under-the-Moon, was only the soul of
the beloved.

She to whom he was now to be wedded, in
her father's house, was the body.

Benten had wrought this miracle for the sake
of her worshippers.

*
* *

The original story breaks off suddenly at this
point, leaving several matters unexplained. The
ending is rather unsatisfactory. One would like
to know something about the mental experi
ences of the real maiden during the married life
of her phantom. One would also like to know
what became of the phantom, — whether it
continued to lead an independent existence ;
whether it waited patiently for the return of
its husband ; whether it paid a visit to the real
bride. And the book says nothing about these

£4 Shadowings

things. But a Japanese friend explains the
miracle thus: —

" The spirit -bride was really formed out of the
tan^aku. So it is possible that the real girl did
not know anything about the meeting at the
temple of Benten. When she wrote those beau
tiful characters upon the tanqaku, something of
her spirit passed into them. Therefore it was
possible to evoke from the writing the double
of the writer."

The Gratitude of the Samebito

1 The original of this story may be found in the book called
Kibun-Anbaiyoshi

The Gratitude of the Samebito

THERE was a man named Tawaraya Totaro,
who lived in the Province of Omi. His
house was situated on the shore of Lake
Biwa, not far from the famous temple called
Ishiyamadera. He had some property, and
lived in comfort ; but at the age of twenty-nine
he was still unmarried. His greatest ambition
was to marry a very beautiful woman; and he
had not been able to find a girl to his liking.

One day, as he was passing over the Long Bridge
of Seta,1 he saw a strange being crouching close
to the parapet. The body of this being resembled

1 The Long Bridge of Se"ta (Seta-no-Naga-Hasbi), famous
in Japanese legend, is nearly eight hundred feet in length, and
commands a beautiful view. This bridge crosses the waters
of the Setagawa near the junction of the stream with Lake
Biwa. Ishiyamadera, one of the most picturesque Buddhist
temples in Japan, is situated within a short distance from
the bridge.

57

£8 Shadowings

the body of a man, but was black as ink; its
face was like the face of a demon ; its eyes were
green as emeralds; and its beard was like the
beard of a dragon. Totaro was at first very
much startled. But the green eyes looked at
him so gently that after a moment's hesitation
he ventured to question the creature. Then it
answered him, saying: "I am a Samebito,1 —
a Shark-Man of the sea ; and until a short time
ago I was in the service of the Eight Great
Dragon-Kings [Hachi-Dai-Ryu-0] as a subor
dinate officer in the Dragon -Palace [Ryugu\?
But because of a small fault which I committed,
1 was dismissed from the Dragon-Palace, and
also banished from the Sea. Since then I have
been wandering about here, — unable to get any
food, or even a place to lie down. If you can

1 Literally, "a Shark-Person," but in this story the
Samebito is a male. The characters for Samebito can also be
read Kojin, — which is the usual reading. In dictionaries
the word is loosely rendered by " merman " or " mer
maid;" but as the above description shows, the Samebito
or Ksjin of the Far East is a conception having little in
common with the Western idea of a merman or mermaid.

2 Ryugu is also the name given to the whole of that
fairy-realm beneath the sea which figures in so many
Japanese legends.

Gratitude of the Sam£bito ">9

feel any pity for me, do, I beseech you, help me
to find a shelter, and let me have something to
eat ! "

This petition was uttered in so plaintive a
tone, and in so humble a manner, that Totaro's
heart was touched. " Come with me," he said.
" There is in my garden a large and deep pond
where you may live as long as you wish ; and I
will give you plenty to eat."

The Samebito followed Totaro home, and ap
peared to be much pleased with the pond.

Thereafter, for nearly half a year, this strange
guest dwelt in the pond, and was every day sup
plied by Totaro with such food as sea-creatures
like.

[From ibis point of the original narrative the Shark-Man is
referred to, not as a monster, but as a sympathetic Person of
tbe male sex.]

Now, in the seventh month of the same year,
there was a female pilgrimage (nyonin-mode) to
the great Buddhist temple called Miidera, in the
neighboring town of Otsu ; and Totaro went to
Otsu to attend the festival. Among the multi
tude of women and young girls there assembled,
he observed a person of extraordinary beauty.
She seemed about sixteen years old ; her face was

60 Shadow! ngs

fair and pure as snow ; and the loveliness of her
lips assured the beholder that their every utter
ance would sound " as sweet as the voice of a
nightingale singing upon a plum-tree." Totaro
fell in love with her at sight. When she left the
temple he followed her at a respectful distance,
and discovered that she and her mother were
staying for a few days at a certain house in the
neighboring village of Seta. By questioning
some of the village folk, he was able also to
learn that her name was Tamana ; that she was
unmarried ; and that her family appeared to be
unwilling that she should marry a man of ordi
nary rank, — for they demanded as a betrothal -
gift a casket containing ten thousand jewels.1

Totaro returned home very much dismayed by
this information. The more that he thought about
the strange betrothal -gift demanded by the girl's
parents, the more he felt that he could never

1 Tama in the original. This word tama has a multitude
of meanings ; and as here used it is quite as indefinite as our
own terms " jewel," " gem," or " precious stone." Indeed,
it is more indefinite, for it signifies also a bead of coral, a
ball of Crystal, a polished stone attached to a hairpin, etc.,
etc. Later on, however, I venture to render it by " ruby,"
— for reasons which need no explanation.

Gratitude of the Sam£bito 61

expect to obtain her for his wife. Even suppos
ing that there were as many as ten thousand
jewels in the whole country, only a great prince
could hope to procure them.

But not even for a single hour could Totaro
banish from his mind the memory of that beauti
ful being. It haunted him so that he could
neither eat nor sleep; and it seemed to become
more and more vivid as the days went by. And
at last he became ill, — so ill that he could not
lift his head from the pillow. Then he sent for
a doctor.

The doctor, after having made a careful exam
ination, uttered an exclamation of surprise. " Al
most any kind of sickness," he said, "can be
cured by proper medical treatment, except the
sickness of love. Your ailment is evidently love-
sickness. There is no cure for it. In ancient
times R6ya-O Hakuyo died of that sickness ; and
you must prepare yourself to die as he died."
So saying, the doctor went away, without even
giving any medicine to Totaro.

About this time the Shark- Man that was living
in the garden-pond heard of his master's sickness,
and came into the house to wait upon Totaro.

62 Shadowings

And he tended him with the utmost affection
both by day and by night. But he did not know
either the cause or the serious nature of the sick
ness until nearly a week later, when Totaro,
thinking himself about to die,'uttered these words
of farewell : —

"I suppose that I have had the pleasure of
caring for you thus long, because of some relation
that grew up between us in a former state of
existence. But now I am very sick indeed, and
every day my sickness becomes worse ; and my
life is like the morning dew which passes away
before the setting of the sun. For your sake,
therefore, I am troubled in mind. Your existence
has depended upon my care; and I fear that
there will be no one to care for you and to feed
you when I am dead. . . . My poor friend ! . . .
Alas ! our hopes and our wishes are always dis
appointed in this unhappy world ! "

No sooner had Totaro spoken these words
than the Samebito uttered a strange wild cry of
pain, and began to weep bitterly. And as he
wept, great tears of blood streamed from his
green eyes and rolled down his black cheeks and
dripped upon the floor. And, falling, they were
blood ; but, having fallen, they became hard and

Gratitude of the Same'bito 63

bright and beautiful, — became jewels of inesti
mable price, rubies splendid as crimson fire. For
when men of the sea weep, their tears become
precious stones.

Then Totaro, beholding this marvel, was so
amazed and overjoyed that his strength returned
to him. He sprang from his bed, and began to
pick up and to count the tears of the Shark -Man,
crying out the while : " My sickness is cured !
I shall live ! I shall live ! "

Therewith, the Shark-Man, greatly astonished,
ceased to weep, and asked Totaro to explain this
wonderful cure; and Totaro told him about the
young person seen at Miidera, and about the
extraordinary marriage-gift demanded by her
family. " As I felt sure," added Totaro, " that
I should never be able to get ten thousand jewels,
I supposed that my suit would be hopeless.
Then I became very unhappy, and at last fell
sick. But now, because of your generous weep
ing, I have many precious stones; and I think
that I shall be able to marry that girl. Only —
there are not yet quite enough stones; and I
beg that you will be good enough to weep a
little more, so as to make up the full number
required."

64 Shadowings

But at this request the Samebito shook his
head, and answered in a tone of surprise and of
reproach : —

" Do you think that I am like a harlot, — able
to weep whenever I wish ? Oh, no ! Harlots shed
tears in order to deceive men ; but creatures of the
sea cannot weep without feeling real sorrow. I
wept for you because of the true grief that I felt
in my heart at the thought that you were going
to die. But now I cannot weep for you, because
you have told me that your sickness is cured."

" Then what am 1 to do ? " plaintively asked
Totaro. " Unless I can get ten thousand jewels,
I cannot marry the girl ! "

The Samebito remained for a little while silent,
as if thinking. Then he said : —

" Listen ! To-day I cannot possibly weep any
more. But to-morrow let us go together to the
Long Bridge of Seta, taking with us some
wine and some fish. We can rest for a time on
the bridge ; and while we are drinking the wine
and eating the fish, 1 shall gaze in the direction
of the Dragon-Palace, and try, by thinking of
the happy days that I spent there, to make my
self feel homesick — so that I can weep."

Totaro joyfully assented.

Gratitude of the Same'bito 6£

Next morning the two, taking plenty of wine
and fish with them, went to the Seta bridge, and
rested there, and feasted. After having drunk a

(great deal of wine, the Samebito began to gaze
in the direction of the Dragon -Kingdom, and to
think about the past. And gradually, under the
softening influence of the wine, the memory of
happier days filled his heart with sorrow, and the
pain of homesickness came upon him, so that he
could weep profusely. And the great red tears
that he shed fell upon the bridge in a shower of
rubies ; and Totaro gathered them as they fell,
and put them into a casket, and counted them
until he had counted the full number of ten
thousand. Then he uttered a shout of joy.

Almost in the same moment, from far away
over the lake, a delightful sound of music was
heard; and there appeared in the offing, slowly
rising from the waters, like some fabric of cloud,
a palace of the color of the setting sun.

At once the Samebito sprang upon the parapet
of the bridge, and looked, and laughed for joy.
Then, turning to Totaro, he said : —

" There must have been a general amnesty
proclaimed in the Dragon -Realm ; the Kings are
calling me. So now I must bid you farewell.
5

66 Shadowings

I am happy to have had one chance of befriend
ing you in return for your goodness to me."

With these words he leaped from the bridge ;
and no man ever saw him again. But Totaro
presented the casket of red jewels to the parents
of Tamana, and so obtained her in marriage.

JAPANESE STUDIES

. . . Life ere long

Came on me in the public ways, and bent
Eyes deeper than of old: Death met I too,
And saw the dawn glow through.
—GEORGE M!EREDITH

Semi

(CICAD/E)

Koe nl mina
Naki-shimote ya —
Semi no kara !

— Japanese Love-Song

The voice having been all consumed by crying, there remains only
the shell of the semi!

Semi

i

A CELEBRATED Chinese scholar, known in
Japanese literature as Riku-Un, wrote
the following quaint account of the Five

Virtues of the Cicada : —

*

< "I. — The Cicada has upon its head certain
figures or signs.1 These represent its [written]
characters, style, literature.

"II. — It eats nothing belonging to earth,. and
drinks only dew. This proves its cleanliness,
purity, propriety.

"III. — It always appears at a certain fixed
time. This proves its fidelity, sincerity, truth
fulness.

" IV. — It will not accept wheat or rice. This
proves its probity, uprightness, honesty.

1 The curious markings on the head of one variety of
Japanese semi are believed to be characters which are
names of souls.

71

72 Shadowings

"V. — It does not make for itself any nest
to live in. This proves its frugality, thrift,
economy."

We might compare this with the beautiful
address of Anacreon to the cicada, written
twenty-four hundred years ago: on more than
one point the Greek poet and the Chinese sage
are in perfect accord : —

" We deem thee happy, O Cicada, because,
having drunk, like a king, only a little dew,
thou dost chirrup on the tops of trees. For all
things whatsoever that thou seest in the fields
are thine, and whatsoever the seasons bring
forth. Yet art thou the friend of the tillers of
the land, — from no one harmfully taking aught.
By mortals thou art held in honor as the pleas
ant harbinger of summer ; and the Muses love
thee. Phoebus himself loves thee, and has given
thee a shrill song. And old age does not con
sume thee. O thou gifted one, — earth-born,
song-loving, free from pain, having flesh with
out blood, — thou art nearly equal to the
Gods!"1

1 In this and other citations from the Greek anthology,
I have depended upon Surges' translation.

PLATE I.

1-2, Young Semi.
3-4, Haru-Zemi, also called Nawasbiro-Ztmi.

And we must certainly go back to the old
Greek literature in order to find a poetry com
parable to that of the Japanese on the subject
of musical insects. Perhaps of Greek verses on
the cricket, the most beautiful are the lines of
Meleager : " O cricket, the soother of slumber
. . . weaving the thread of a voice that causes
love to wander away !" . . . There are Japan
ese poems scarcely less delicate in sentiment on
the chirruping of night-crickets; and Meleager's
promise to reward the little singer with gifts of
fresh leek, and with "drops of dew cut up
small," sounds strangely Japanese. Then the
poem attributed to Anyte, about the little girl
Myro making a tomb for her pet cicada and
cricket, and weeping because Hades, "hard to
be persuaded," had taken her playthings away,
represents an experience familiar to Japanese
child -life. I suppose that little Myro — (how
freshly her tears still glisten, after seven and
twenty centuries!) — prepared that "common
tomb" for her pets much as the little maid of
Nippon would do to-day, putting a small stone
on top to serve for a monument. But the wiser
Japanese Myro would repeat over the grave a
certain Buddhist prayer.

74 Shadowings

It is especially in their poems upon the cicada
that we find the old Greeks confessing their
love of insect- melody : witness the lines in the
Anthology about the tettix caught in a spider's
snare, and " making lament in the thin fetters "
until freed by the poet; — and the verses by
Leonidas of Tarentum picturing the " unpaid
minstrel to wayfaring men" as "sitting upon
lofty trees, warmed with the great heat of sum
mer, sipping the dew that is like woman's
milk ; " — and the dainty fragment of Melea-
ger, beginning : " Thou vocal tettix, drunk with
drops of dew, sitting with thy serrated limbs
upon the tops of petals, thou givest out the
melody of the lyre from thy dusky skin" . . .
Or take the charming address of Evenus to a
nightingale : —

" Thou Attic maiden, honey-fed, hast chirp
ing seized a chirping cicada, and bearest it to
thy unfledged young, — thou, a twitterer, the
twitterer, — thou, the winged, the well-winged,
— thou, a stranger, the stranger, — thou, a
summer -child, the summer -child! Wilt thou
not quickly cast it from thee ? For it is not
right, it is not just, that those engaged in song

Sdmi 7*

should perish by the mouths of those engaged in
song."

On the other hand, we find Japanese poets
much more inclined to praise the voices of night-
crickets than those of semi. There are countless
poems about semi, but very few which com
mend their singing. Of course the semi are
very different from the cicadas known to the
Greeks. Some varieties are truly musical; but
the majority are astonishingly noisy, — so noisy
that their stridulation is considered one of the
great afflictions of summer. Therefore it were
vain to seek among the myriads of Japanese
verses on semi for anything comparable to the
lines of Evenus above quoted ; indeed, the only
Japanese poem that I could find on the subject of
a cicada caught by a bird, was the following : —

Ana kanashi !

Tobi ni toraruru

S£mi no koe.

— RANSETSU.

Ah ! how piteous the cry of the semi seized by the kite !

Or " caught by a boy " the poet might equally
well have observed, — this being a much more
frequent cause of the pitiful cry. The lament of

76 Shado wings

Nicias for the tettix would serve as the elegy of
many a semi : —

" No more shall /delight myself by sending out
a sound from my quick-moving wings, because
I have fallen into the savage hand of a hoy, who
seized me unexpectedly, as I was sitting under
the green leaves."

Here I may remark that Japanese children
usually capture semi by means of a long slender
bamboo tipped with bird-lime (mochf). The
sound made by some kinds of semi when caught
is really pitiful, — quite as pitiful as the twitter
of a terrified bird. One finds it difficult to per
suade oneself that the noise is not a voice of an
guish, in the human sense of the word " voice,"
but the production of a specialized exterior mem
brane. Recently, on hearing a captured semi
thus scream, I became convinced in quite a new
Way that the stridulatory apparatus of certain
insects must not be thought of as a kind of
musical instrument, but as an organ of speech,
and that its utterances are as intimately associ
ated with simple forms of emotion, as are the
notes of a bird, — the extraordinary difference
being that the insect has its vocal chords outside.

PLATE II.

" Shinne-Shinne,"

Also called Yama-Zemi, and Kuma-Zemi.

S£mi 7?

But the insect-world is altogether a world of
goblins and fairies : creatures with organs of
which we cannot discover the use, and senses
of which we cannot imagine the nature ; —
creatures with myriads of eyes, or with eyes
in their backs, or with eyes moving about at
the ends of trunks and horns ; — creatures with
ears in their legs and bellies, or with brains in
their waists! If some of them happen to have
voices outside of their bodies instead of inside,
the fact ought not to surprise anybody.

I have not yet succeeded in finding any Japan
ese verses alluding to the stridulatory apparatus
of semi, — though I think it probable that such
verses exist. Certainly the Japanese have been
for centuries familiar with the peculiarities of
their own singing insects. But I should not
now presume to say that their poets are in
correct in speaking of the " voices " of crickets
and of cicadas. The old Greek poets who ac
tually describe insects as producing music with
their wings and feet, nevertheless speak of the
" voices," the " songs," and the " chirruping " of
such creatures, — just as the Japanese poets do.
For example, Meleager thus addresses the cricket :

78 Shadowings

"O thou that art with shrill wings the self-
formed imitation of the lyre, chirrup me some
thing pleasant while beating your vocal wings
wit by our feet ! . . . "

II

BEFORE speaking further of the poetical
literature of semi, I must attempt a few
remarks about the semi themselves. But
the reader need not expect anything entomologi
cal. Excepting, perhaps, the butterflies, the in
sects of Japan are still little known to men of
science; and all that I can say about semi has
been learned from inquiry, from personal obser
vation, and from old Japanese books of an in
teresting but totally unscientific kind. Not only
do the authors contradict each other as to the
names and characteristics of the best-known
semi; they attach the word semi to names of
insects which are not cicadas.

The following enumeration of semi is certainly
incomplete ; but I believe that it includes the bet
ter-known varieties and the best melodists. I
must ask the reader, however, to bear in mind
that the time of the appearance of certain semi

S£mi 79

differs in different parts of Japan ; that the same
kind of semi may be called by different names
in different provinces ; and that these notes have
been written in Tokyo.

I. — HARU-Z§MI.

VARIOUS small semi appear in the spring. But
the first of the big semi to make itself heard is
the haru-^emi (" spring-semi "), also called uma-
\erni (" horse-semi "), kuma-^mi (" bear-
semi"), and other names. It makes a shrill
wheezing sound, — ji-i-i-i-i-iiiiiiii, — beginning
low, and gradually rising to a pitch of painful
intensity. No other cicada is so noisy as the
baru-^emi ; but the life of the creature appears
to end with the season. Probably this is the
semi referred to in an old Japanese poem: —

Hatsu-semi ya !
" Kore" wa atsui" to
lu hi yori.

— TAIMU.

The day after the first day on which we exclaim, " Oh,
how hot it is 1 " the first semi begins to cry.

II. — " SHINNE-SHINNE."

THE sUnne-shinnt — also called yama-^mi, or
"mountain-semi" ; kuma-^emi, or "bear-semi ";

80 Shadowings

and o-sfoni, or " great semi " — begins to sing as
early as May. It is a very large insect. The
upper part of the body is almost black, and the
belly a silvery -white ; the head has curious red
markings. The name shinnk-sbinni is derived
from the note of the creature, which resembles a
quick continual repetition of the syllables shinnk.
About Kyoto this semi is common : it is rarely
heard in Tokyd.

[My first opportunity to examine an o-s&mi
was in Shidzuoka. Its utterance is much more
complex than the Japanese onomatope implies;
I should liken it to the noise of a sewing-
machine in full operation. There is a double
sound : you hear not only the succession of
sharp metallic clickings, but also, below these, a
slower series of dull clanking tones. The stridu-
latory organs are light green, looking almost
like a pair of tiny green leaves attached to the
thorax.]

III. — ABURAZ^MI.

THE aburatfmi, or " oil-semi," makes its ap
pearance early in the summer. I am told that it
owes its name to the fact that its shrilling resem
bles the sound of oil or grease frying in a pan.

PLATE III.

S£mi 81

Some writers say that the shrilling resembles the
sound of the syllables gacharin-gacharin ; but
others compare it to the noise of water boiling.
The abura^imi begins to chant about sunrise;
then a great soft hissing seems to ascend from
all the trees. At such an hour, when the foliage
of woods and gardens still sparkles with dew,
might have been composed the following verse,
— the only one in my collection relating to the
abura^mi : —

Ano koe" d£

Tsuyu ga inochi ka ? —
Aburaze'mi !

Speaking with that voice, has the dew taken life ? — Only
the abura^mi !

IV. — MUGI-KARI-ZfiMI.

THE mugi-kari-^mi, or " barley -harvest semi,"
also called gosbiki-^emi, or " five-colored semi,"
appears early in the summer. It makes two
distinct sounds in different keys, resembling the
syllables sbi-in, shin — chi-i, cbi-i.

V. — HIGURASHI, OR " KANA-KANA."

THIS insect, whose name signifies " day-darken
ing," is the most remarkable of all the Japanese

82 Shadowings

cicadas. It is not the finest singer among them ;
but even as a melodist it ranks second only to
the tsuku-tsuku-bosU. It is the special minstrel
of twilight, singing only at dawn and sunset;
whereas most of the other semi make their music
only in the full blaze of day, pausing even when
rain -clouds obscure the sun. In Tokyo the
bigurashi usually appears about the end of June,
or the beginning of July. Its wonderful cry,
— kana-kana-kana-kana-kana, — beginning al
ways in a very high clear key, and slowly
descending, is almost exactly like the sound of
a good hand-bell, very quickly rung. It is not a
clashing sound, as of violent ringing ; it is quick,
steady, and of surprising sonority. 1 believe that
a single bigurasbi can be plainly heard a quarter
of a mile away ; yet, as the old Japanese poet
Yayu observed, " no matter how many higurasbi
be singing together, we never find them noisy."
Though powerful and penetrating as a resonance
of metal, the MgurasU's call is musical even to
the degree of sweetness ; and there is a peculiar
melancholy in it that accords with the hour of
gloaming. But the most astonishing fact in re
gard to the cry of the higurasbi is the individual
quality characterizing the note of each insect.

83

No two bigurasbi sing precisely in the same tone.
If you hear a dozen of them singing at once, you
will find that the timbre of each voice is recog
nizably different from every other. Certain notes
ring like silver, others vibrate like bronze ; and,
besides varieties of timbre suggesting bells of vari
ous weight and composition, there are even differ
ences in tone, that suggest different forms of bell.

I have already said that the name bigurasbi
means " day-darkening," — in the sense of twi
light, gloaming, dusk ; and there are many
Japanese verses containing plays on the word, —
the poets affecting to believe, as in the following
example, that the crying of the insect hastens the
coming of darkness : —

Higurashi ya 1
Sute'te'oite'mo
Kururu hi wo.

O Higurashi ! — even if you let it alone, day darkens fast
enough !

This, intended to express a melancholy mood,
may seem to the Western reader far-fetched.
But another little poem — referring to the effect
of the sound upon the conscience of an idler —
will be appreciated by any one accustomed to hear
the bigurasbi. I may observe, in this connection,

84 Shadow! ngs

that the first clear evening cry of the insect is
quite as startling as the sudden ringing of a
bell: —

Higurashi ya !

Kyo no ke"tai wo

Omou-toki.

— RIKEI.

Already, 0 Higurashi, your call announces the evening !
Alas, for the passing day, with its duties left undone !

VI. — " MlNMIN "-ZEMI.

THE minmin-^emi begins to sing in the Period of
Greatest Heat. It is called " min-min " because
its note is thought to resemble the syllable
" min " repeated over and over again, — slowly at
first, and very loudly; then more and more
quickly and softly, till the utterance dies away
in a sort of buzz : " min — min — min-min-
min-minminmin-d^^^^" The sound is plain
tive, and not unpleasing. It is often compared
to the sound of the voice of a priest chanting the
sutras.

VII. — TSUKU-TSUKU-BOSHI.

ON the day immediately following the Festival
of the Dead, by the old Japanese calendar1

That is to say, upon the 16th day of the 7th month.

PLATE IV.

1-2, Miigikari-Zemi, also called Gosbiki-Zkmi.

3, Higiirasbi.

4, " Min-Min-Zemi."

S£mi 8*

(which is incomparably more exact than our
Western calendar in regard to nature-changes
and manifestations), begins to sing the tsuku-
tsuku-bdsbi. This creature may be said to sing
like a bird. It is also called kutsu-kutsu-bosbi,
cboko-cbffko-uisu, tsuhu-tsuhu-bosbi, tsuku-
tsuku-oisbi, — all onomatopoetic appellations.
The sounds of its song have been imitated in
different ways by various writers. In Izumo the
common version is, —

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu,
Tsuku-tsuku-uisu,
Tsuku-tsuku-uisu : —

Ui-osu

Ui-osu

Ui-6su

Ui-os-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-su.

Another version runs, —

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu,
Tsuku-tsuku-uisu,
Tsuku-tsuku-uisu: —

Ghi-i yara !

Chi-i yara !

Chi-i yara !

Chi-i, chi, chi, chi, chi, chiii.

But some say that the sound is Tsukush-
koisbi. There is a legend that in old times a

86 Shadowings

man of Tsukushi (the ancient name of Kyushu)
fell sick and died while far away from home,
and that the ghost of him became an autumn
cicada, which cries unceasingly, TsuhusU-koisU !
— TsukusU-koisU ! (" I long for Tsukushi ! — I
want to see Tsukushi ! " )

It is a curious fact that the earlier semi have
the harshest and simplest notes. The musical
semi do not appear until summer; and the
tsuku-tsuku-bosbi, having the most complex
and melodious, utterance of all, is one of the
latest to mature.

VIII. — TSURIGANE-S&MI.1

THE tsurigane-semi is an autumn cicada. The
word tsurigane means a suspended bell, — espe
cially the big bell of a Buddhist temple. I am
somewhat puzzled by the name ; for the insect's
music really suggests the tones of a Japanese
harp, or koto — as good authorities declare.
Perhaps the appellation refers not to the boom
of the bell, but to those deep, sweet hummings
which follow after the peal, wave upon wave.

This se"mi appears to be chiefly known in Shikoku.

J

S£mi 87

III

T APANESE poems on semi are usually very
brief ; and my collection chiefly consists of
bokku, — compositions of seventeen sylla
bles. Most of these bokku relate to the sound
made by the semi, — or, rather, to the sensation
which the sound produced within the poet's
mind. The names attached to the following
examples are nearly all names of old-time poets,
— not the real names, of course, but the go, or
literary names by which artists and men of
letters are usually known.

Yokoi Yayu, a Japanese poet of the eighteenth
century, celebrated as a composer of bokku, has
left us this nai've record of the feelings with
which he heard the chirruping of cicadae in
summer and in autumn: —

" In the sultry period, feeling oppressed by the
greatness of the heat, I made this verse : —

" Se'mi atsushi
Matsu kirabaya to
Omou-made'.

[The chirruping of the Se'mi aggravates the heat until I
wish to cut down the pine-tree on which it sings.]

88 Shadowmgs

" But the days passed quickly ; and later, when
I heard the crying of the semi grow fainter and
fainter in the time of the autumn winds, I began
to feel compassion for them, and 1 made this
second verse : —

" Shim-nokore'
Hitotsu bakari wa
Aki no s&mi."

[Now there survives

But a single one

Of the se"mi of autumn !]

Lovers of Pierre Loti (the world's greatest
prose-writer) may remember in Madame Cbrys-
antheme a delightful passage about a Japanese
house, — describing the old dry woodwork as
impregnated with sonority by the shrilling crick
ets of a hundred summers.1 There is a Japan
ese poem containing a fancy not altogether
dissimilar : —

1 Speaking of his own attempt to make a drawing of
the interior, he observes : " II manque & ce logis dessine"
son air frgle et sa sonorite" de violon sec. Dans les traits
de crayon qui represented les boiseries, il n'y a pas la
precision minutieuse avec laquelle elles sont ouvrage'es, ni
leur antiquit^ extreme, ni leur proprete* parfaite, ni les
vibrations de dgales qu' 'elles semblent avoir emmagasinies pen
dant des centaines fetes dans leur s fibres dessecbees."

PLATE V.

1 , " Tsukti-tsuku-Bosln," also called " Kutsu-kutsu-

Bdsbi," etC. (Cosmopsaltria Opalifera ?)

2, Tsurigane-Zemi.

3, The Phantom.

S£mi 89

Matsu no ki ni
Shimikomu gotoshi
Se'mi no kog.

Into the wood of the pine-tree

Seems to soak

The voice of the semi.

A very large number of Japanese poems about
se'mi describe the noise of the creatures as an
affliction. To fully sympathize with the com
plaints of the poets, one must have heard certain
varieties of Japanese cicadas in full midsummer
chorus ; but even by readers without experience
of the clamor, the following verses will probably
be found suggestive : —

War<< hitori
Atsui yo nari, —
Se'mi no kog I

— BUNSO.

Meseems that only I, — I alone among mortals, —
Ever suffered such heat ! — oh, the noise of the se'mi I

Ushiro kara
Tsukamu yo nari, —
Se'mi no kog.

— JOFO.

Oh, the noise of the se'mi I — a pain of invisible seizure, —
Clutched in an enemy's grasp, — caught by the hair from
behind I

90 Shadowings

Yama no Kami no
Mimi no yamai ka ? —

Se"mi no kog !

— TEIKOKU.

What ails the divinity's ears?— how can the God of the

Mountain
Suffer such noise to exist ? — oh, the tumult of s^mi !

Soko no nai
Atsusa ya kumo ni

Se*mi no kog !

— SAREN.

Fathomless deepens the heat : the ceaseless shrilling of s^mi
Mounts, like a hissing of fire, up to the motionless clouds.

Mizu kare'te',
Se"mi wo fudan-no

Taki no kog.

— GEN-U.

Water never a drop : the chorus of se"mi, incessant,
Mocks the tumultuous hiss, — the rush and foaming of
rapids.

Kage"roishi
Kumo mata satt^,

Se"mi no kog.

— KlTO.

Gone, the shadowing clouds ! — again the shrilling of se"mi
Rises and slowly swells, — ever increasing the heat!

Daita ki wa,
Ha mo ugokasazu, —

Se"mi no koe !

— KAFO.

Somewhere fast to the bark he clung ; but I cannot see him :
He stirs not even a leaf — oh ! the noise of that se"mi !

91

Tonari kara
Kono ki nikumu ya !
Se'mi no kog.

— GYUKAKU.

All because of the se'mi that sit and shrill on its branches —
Oh ! how this tree of mine is hated now by my neighbor !

This reminds one of Yayu. We find another
poet compassionating a tree frequented by
semi : —

Kaze wa mina

Se'mi ni suwarete",

Hito-ki kana !

— CHOSUI.

Alas ! poor solitary tree ! — pitiful now your lot, — every
breath of air having been sucked up by the semi !

Sometimes the noise of the semi is described as
a moving force : —

Se'mi no kog
Ki-gi ni ugoite",
Kaz^ mo nashi !

— SOYO.

Every tree in the wood quivers with clamor of se'mi :
Motion only of noise — never a breath of wind !

Take" ni kite',

Yuki yori omoshi

Se'mi no kog.

— TOGETSU.

92 Shadowings

More heavy than winter-snow the voices of perching

semi:
See how the bamboos bend under the weight of their

song ! !

Morogoe ni
Yama ya ugokasu,

Ki-gi no semi.

All shrilling together, the multitudinous se'mi
Make, with their ceaseless clamor, even the mountain
move.

Kusunoki mo
Ugoku y5 nari,

Se'mi no kog.

— BAIJAKU.

Even the camphor-tree seems to quake with the clamor
of se'mi !

Sometimes the sound is compared to the noise
of boiling water : —

Hizakari wa
Nie'tatsu se'mi no
Hayashi kana!

In the hour of heaviest heat, how simmers the forest
with se'mi I

Nie"te" iru
Mizu bakari nari —

Se'mi no kog.

— TAIMU.

1 Japanese artists have found many a charming inspira
tion in the spectacle of bamboos bending under the weight
of snow clinging to their tops.

S6ni 93

Simmers all the air with sibilation of se'mi,

Ceaseless, wearying sense, — a sound of perpetual boiling.

Other poets complain especially of the multi
tude of the noise-makers and the ubiquity of the

noise : —

Aritake" no
Ki ni hibiki-ke'ri
Se'mi no kog.

How many soever the trees, in each rings the voice of
the se'mi.

Matsubara wo
Ichi ri wa kitari,
Se'mi no kog.

— SENGA.

Alone I walked for miles into the wood of pine-trees :
Always the one same se'mi shrilled its call in my ears.

Occasionally the subject is treated with comic
exaggeration : —

Natte" iru
Ki yori mo futoshi

Semi no kog.

The voice of the se'mi is bigger [thicker] than the tree on
which it sings.

Sugi takashi
Sare"domo se'mi no

Amaru koe" !

High though the cedar be, the voice of the se'mi is in
comparably higher !

94 Shadow! ngs

Kog nagaki

Se"mi wa mijikaki

Inochi kana !

How long, alas ! the voice and how short the life of the
se'mi!

Some poets celebrate the negative form of
pleasure following upon the cessation of the

sound : —

Se'mi ni de'te',
Hotaru ni modoru, —

Suzumi kana!

— YAYO.

When the se'mi cease their noise, and the fireflies come
out — oh ! how refreshing the hour !

Se'mi no tatsu,
Ato suzushisa yo !

Matsu no kog.

— BAIJAKU.

When the semi cease their storm, oh, how refreshing the

stillness !
Gratefully then resounds the musical speech of the pines.

[Here I may mention, by the way, that there
is a little Japanese song about the matsu no hoe,
in which the onomatope "zazanza" very well
represents the deep humming of the wind in the

pine-needles : —

Zazanza I

Hama-matsu no oto wa, —
Zazanza,
Zazanza I

S£mi 9£

Zazanza !

The sound of the pines of the shore, —
Zazanza !
Zazanza!]

There are poets, however, who declare that the
feeling produced by the noise of semi depends
altogether upon the nervous condition of the
listener : —

Mori no se'mi
Suzushiki koe ya,
Atsuki kog.

— OTSUSHU.

Sometimes sultry the sound ; sometimes, again, refreshing :
The chant of the forest-se'mi accords with the hearer's
mood.

Suzushisa mo

Atsusa mo semi no

Tokoro kana !

— FUHAKU.

Sometimes we think it cool, — the resting-place of the
semi; — sometimes we think it hot (it is all a matter of
fancy).

Suzushii to
Omoe'ba, suzushi
Semi no kog.

— GINKO.

If we think it is cool, then the voice of the se'mi is cool
(that is, the fancy changes the feeling).

96 Shadowings

In view of the many complaints of Japanese
poets about the noisiness of semi, the reader may
be surprised to learn that out of semi-skins there
used to be made in both China and Japan — per
haps upon homoeopathic principles — a medicine
for the cure of ear-ache!

One poem, nevertheless, proves that semi-
music has its admirers: —

Omoshiroi zo ya,
Waga-ko no kog wa
Takai mori-ki no

Se"mi no koe ! l

Sweet to the ear is the voice of one's own child as the
voice of a se'mi perched on a tall forest tree.

But such admiration is rare. More frequently
the semi is represented as crying for its nightly
repast of dew: —

1 There is another version of this poem : —

Omoshiroi zo ya,
Waga-ko no naku wa
Sembu-segaki no

Kyo yori mo 1

"More sweetly sounds the crying of one's own child
than even the chanting of the sQtra in the service for the
dead." The Buddhist service alluded to is held to be par
ticularly beautiful.

Semi 97

Se'mi wo kike", —
Ichi-nichi naite'
Yoru no tsuyu.

— KIKAKU.

Hear the se'mi shrill ! So, from earliest dawning,
All the summer day he cries for the dew of night.

Yu-tsuyu no
Kuchi ni iru made"
Naku se'mi ka ?

— BAISHITSU.

Will the semi continue to cry till the night-dew fills its
mouth ?

Occasionally the semi is mentioned in love-
songs of which the following is a fair specimen.
It belongs to that class of ditties commonly sung
by geisha. Merely as a conceit, I think it pretty,
in spite of the factitious pathos ; but to Japanese
taste it is decidedly vulgar. The allusion to
beating implies jealousy: —

Nushi ni tatakare",
Washa matsu no se'mi
Sugaritsuki-tsuki
Naku bakari I

Beaten by my jealous lover, —
Like the se'mi on the pine-tre«
I can only cry and cling !

98 Shadowings

And indeed the following tiny picture is a truer
bit of work, according to Japanese art-principles
(I do not know the author's name) : —

Se'mi hitotsu
Matsu no yu-hi wo
Kakae'-ke'ri.

Lo ! on the topmost pine, a solitary cicada
Vainly attempts to clasp one last red beam of sun.

IV

PHILOSOPHICAL verses do not form a
numerous class of Japanese poems upon
semi; but they possess an interest alto
gether exotic. As the metamorphosis of the
butterfly supplied to old Greek thought an
emblem of the soul's ascension, so the natural
history of the cicada has furnished Buddhism
with similitudes and parables for the teaching of
doctrine.

Man sheds his body only as the se'mi sheds
its skin. But each reincarnation obscures the
memory of the previous one : we remember our
former existence no more than the semi remem
bers the shell from which it has emerged. Often

S£mi 99

a semi may be found in the act of singing
beside its cast-off skin; therefore a poet has
written : —

Ware to waga
Kara ya tomuro — *
Se"mi no koe.

— YAYU.

Methinks that se"mi sits and sings by his former body, —
Chanting the funeral service over his own dead self.

This cast-off skin, or simulacrum, — clinging
to bole or branch as in life, and seeming still
to stare with great glazed eyes, — has suggested
many things both to profane and to religious
poets. In love -songs it is often likened to a body
consumed by passionate longing. In Buddhist
poetry it becomes a symbol of earthly pomp, —
the hollow show of human greatness : —

Yo no naka yo

Kagru no hadaka,

Se"mi no kinu !

Naked as frogs and weak we enter this life of trouble ;
Shedding our pomps we pass : so se"mi quit their skins.

But sometimes the poet compares the winged
and shrilling semi to a human ghost, and the
broken shell to the body left behind: —

100 Shadowings

Tamashii wa
Ukiyo ni naite,
Semi no kara.

Here the forsaken shell : above me the voice of the creature
Shrills like the cry of a Soul quitting this world of pain.

Then the great sun-quickened tumult of the
cicadx — landstorm of summer life foredoomed
so soon to pass away — is likened by preacher
and poet to the tumult of human desire. Even
as the semi rise from earth, and climb to warmth
and light, and clamor, and presently again return
to dust and silence, — so rise and clamor and
pass the generations of men : —

Yagat£ shinu
Keshiki wa mie'zu,

S£mi no koe.

— BASHO.

Never an intimation in all those voices of se'mi
How quickly the hush will come, — how speedily all must
die.

I wonder whether the thought in this little
verse does not interpret something of that sum
mer melancholy which comes to us out of
nature's solitudes with the plaint of insect- voices.
Unconsciously those millions of millions of tiny
beings are preaching the ancient wisdom of the
East, — the perpetual Sutra of Impermanency.

S£mi 101

Yet how few of our modern poets have given
heed to the voices of insects !

Perhaps it is only to minds inexorably haunted
by the Riddle of Life that Nature can speak to
day, in those thin sweet trillings, as she spake
of old to Solomon.

The Wisdom of the East hears all things.
And he that obtains it will hear the speech of
insects, — as Sigurd, tasting the Dragon's Heart,
heard suddenly the talking of birds.

NOTE. — For the pictures of sSmi accompanying: this paper, I am
indebted to a curious manuscript work in several volumes, preserved in
the Imperial Library at Uy£no. The work is entitled Cbufu-Zusetsu,
— which might be freely rendered as " Pictures and Descriptions of In
sects," — and is divided into twelve books. The writer's name is un
known ; but he must have been an amiable and interesting: person, to
judge from the na'ive preface which he wrote, apologizing for the labors
of a lifetime. " When I was young," he says, " I was very fond of
catching worms and insects, and making pictures of their shapes, — so
that these pictures have now become several hundred in number." He
believes that he has found a good reason for studying insects :
"Among the multitude of living creatures in this world,'" he says,
"those having large bodies are familiar: we know very well their
names, shapes, and virtues, and the poisons which they possess. But
there remain very many small creatures whose natures are still un
known, notwithstanding the fact that such little beings as insects and
worms are able to injure men and to destroy what has value. So I
think that it is very important for us to learn what insects or worms
have special virtues or poisons." It appears that he had sent to him
" from other countries " some kinds of insects " that eat the leaves and
shoots of trees ; " but he could not " get their exact names." For the
names of domestic Insects, he consulted many Chinese and Japanese
books, and has been " able to write the names with the proper Chinese
characters ; " but he tells us that he did not fail " to pick up also the

102 Shadowings

names given to worms and insects by old fanners and little boys." The
preface is dated thus: — " Ansei Kanote, the third month — at a little
cottage " [1856].

With the introduction of scientific studies the author of the Cbufu-
Zusetsu could no longer hope to attract attention. Yet his very modest
and very beautiful work was forgotten only a moment. It is now a
precious curiosity ; and the old man's ghost might to-day find some
happiness in a visit to the Imperial Library.

Japanese Female Names

Japanese Female Names

i

i

~ the Japanese a certain kind of girl is

called a Rose-Girl, — Bara-Musume. Per
haps my reader will think of Tennyson's
" queen-rose of the rosebud -garden of girls,"
and imagine some analogy between the Japanese
and the English idea of femininity symbolized
by the rose. But there is no analogy whatever.
The Bara-Musume is not so called because she
is delicate and sweet, nor because she blushes,
nor because she is rosy ; indeed, a rosy face is
not admired in Japan. No ; she is compared to
a rose chiefly for the reason that a rose has
thorns. The man who tries to pull a Japanese
rose is likely to hurt his fingers. The man who
tries to win a Bara-Musume is apt to hurt him
self much more seriously, — even unto death.
105

106 Shadowings

It were better, alone and unarmed, to meet a tiger
than to invite the caress of a Rose-Girl.

Now the appellation of Bara-Musume — much
more rational as a simile than many of our own
floral comparisons — can seem strange only be
cause it is not in accord with our poetical usages
and emotional habits. It is one in a thousand
possible examples of the fact that Japanese sim
iles and metaphors are not of the sort that he
who runs may read. And this fact is particularly
well exemplified in i\\t yobina, or personal names
of Japanese women. Because a yobina happens
to be identical with the name of some tree, or
bird, or flower, it does not follow that the per-
sonal appellation conveys to Japanese imagination
ideas resembling those which the corresponding
English word would convey, under like circum
stances, to English imagination. Of the yobina
that seem to us especially beautiful in translation,
only a small number are bestowed for aesthetic
reasons. Nor is it correct to suppose, as many
persons still do, that Japanese girls are usually
named after flowers, or graceful shrubs, or other
beautiful objects. ^Esthetic appellations are in
use ; but the majority of yobina are not aesthetic.
Some years ago a young Japanese scholar pub-

Japanese Female Names 107

lished an interesting essay upon this subject. He
had collected the personal names of about four
hundred students of the Higher Normal School
for Females, — girls from every part of the Em
pire ; and he found on his list only between
fifty and sixty names possessing aesthetic quality.
But concerning even these he was careful to
observe only that they " caused an aesthetic sen
sation," — not that they had been given for
aesthetic reasons. Among them were such names
as Saki (Cape), Mine (Peak), Kisbi (Beach),
Hama (Shore), Kuni (Capital), — originally
place-names; — Tsuru (Stork), Ta%u (Ricefield
Stork), and Chi^u (Thousand Storks); — also
such appellations as Yosbino (Fertile Field),
Orino (Weavers' Field), Shirusbi (Proof), and
Masago (Sand). Few of these could seem
aesthetic to a Western mind ; and probably no
one of them was originally given for aesthetic
reasons. Names containing the character for
" Stork " are names having reference to longev
ity, not to beauty ; and a large number of names
with the termination " no " (field or plain) are
names referring to moral qualities. I doubt
whether even fifteen per cent of yobtna are
really aesthetic. A very much larger proportion

108 Shadowings

are names expressing moral or mental qualities.
Tenderness, kindness, deftness, cleverness, are fre
quently represented by yobina ; but appellations
implying physical charm, or suggesting aesthetic
ideas only, are comparatively uncommon. One
reason for the fact may be that very aesthetic
names are given to geisha and to jor o, and conse
quently vulgarized. But the chief reason cer
tainly is that the domestic virtues still occupy in
Japanese moral estimate a place not less impor
tant than that accorded to religious faith in the
life of our own Middle Ages. Not in theory only,
but in every-day practice, moral beauty is placed
far above physical beauty ; and girls are usually
selected as wives, not for their good looks, but for
their domestic qualities. Among the middle
classes a very aesthetic name would not be con
sidered in the best taste ; among the poorer
classes, it would scarcely be thought respectable.
Ladies of rank, on the other hand, are privileged
to bear very poetical names; yet the majority
of the aristocratic yobina also are moral rather
than aesthetic.

But the first great difficulty in the way of a
study of yobina is the difficulty of translating

Japanese Female Names 109

them. A knowledge of spoken Japanese can
help you very little indeed. A knowledge of
Chinese also is indispensable. The meaning of a
name written in hana only, — in the Japanese
characters, — cannot be, in most cases, even
guessed at. The Chinese characters of the name
can alone explain it. The Japanese essayist, al
ready referred to, found himself obliged to throw
out no less than thirty-six names out of a list
of two hundred and thirteen, simply because
these thirty-six, having been recorded only in
kana, could not be interpreted. Kana give only
the pronunciation ; and the pronunciation of a
woman's name explains nothing in a majority of
cases. Transliterated into Romaji, a yobina may
signify two, three, or even half-a-dozen different
things. One of the names thrown out of the
list was Banka. Banka might signify " Mint "
(the plant), which would be a pretty name ; but
it might also mean " Evening -haze." Yuka,
another rejected name, might be an abbreviation
of Yukabutsu, " precious " ; but it might just as
well mean " a floor." Nochi, a third example,
might signify " future " ; yet it could also mean
" a descendant," and various other things. My
reader will be able to find many other homonyms

110 Shadowings

in the lists of names given further on. Ai in
Romaji, for instance, may signify either " love "
or " indigo-blue " ; — Cbo, " a butterfly," or " su
perior," or " long " ; — Ei, either " sagacious " or
" blooming " ; — Kei, either " rapture " or " rev
erence " ; — Sato, either " native home " or
" sugar " ; — Tosbi, either " year " or " arrow
head";— Taka, "tall," "honorable," or "fal
con." The chief, and, for the present, insuperable
obstacle to the use of Roman letters in writing
Japanese, is the prodigious number of homonyms
in the language. You need only glance into any
good Japanese-English dictionary to understand
the gravity of this obstacle. Not to multiply
examples, I shall merely observe that there are
nineteen words spelled cbo ; twenty-one spelled
ki ; twenty-five spelled to or to; and no less
than forty-nine spelled ho or ko.

Yet, as I have already suggested, the real signi
fication of a woman's name cannot be ascertained
even from a literal translation made with the
help of the Chinese characters. Such a name,
for instance, as Kagami (Mirror) really signifies
the Pure-Minded, and this not in the Occidental,
but in the Confucian sense of the term. Ume

Japanese Female Names 111

(Plum-blossom) is a name referring to wifely
devotion and virtue. Matsu (Pine) does not
refer, as an appellation, to the beauty of the tree,
but to the fact that its evergreen foliage is the
emblem of vigorous age. The name Take (Bam
boo) is given to a child only because the bamboo
has been for centuries a symbol of good -fortune.
The name Sen (Wood-fairy) sounds charmingly to
Western fancy ; yet it expresses nothing more than
the parents' hope of long life for their daughter
and her offspring, — wood -fairies being supposed
to live for thousands of years. . . . Again, many
names are of so strange a sort that it is impossi
ble to discover their meaning without questioning
either the bearer or the giver ; and sometimes all
inquiry proves vain, because the original mean-ing
has been long forgotten.

Before attempting to go further into the sub
ject, I shall here offer a translation of the Tokyo
essayist's list of names, — rearranged in alpha
betical order, without honorific prefixes or suf
fixes. Although some classes of common names
are not represented, the list will serve to show
the character of many still popular yobina, and
also to illustrate several of the facts to which
I have already called attention.

112

Shadowings

SELECTED NAMES OF STUDENTS AND GRADUATES
OF THE HIGHER NORMAL SCHOOL FOR

FEMALES (1880-1895):- %<£*"'

so named.

Ai ... (" Indigo," — the color) 1

At ... ("Love") 1

Akasuke . . ("The Bright Helper") 1

Asa . . . ("Morning") 1

Asa . . . (" Shallow ")U 2

Au . . . ("Meeting") 2

flw« . . . ("Composition" — in the literary sense) 2 1

Oriha . . ("Near") « 5

Ctitose . . ("A Thousand Years ") 1

Chiyo . . ("A Thousand Generations") . . . 1

Cbipt . . ("Thousand Storks") 1

Cbo . . . ("Butterfly") 1

Cbd . . . ("Superior") 2

Ei ... ("Clever") 1

Ei ... ("Blooming") 2

Etsu . . . ("Delight") 1

Fude . . . (" Writing-brush ") 1

Fuji . . . ("Fuji," — the mountain) l

Fuji . . . ("Wistaria-flower") 2

Fuki . . . (" Fuki," — name of a plant, Nardosmia

Japonica) 1

Fuku . . . ("Good-fortune") 2

Fumi. . . ("Letter")* 5

Fumino . . ("Letter-field") 1

1 Probably a place-name originally.

* Might we not quaintly say, " A Fair Writing " ?

* Probably in the sense of " near and dear " — but not certainly so.

* Fumi signifies here a letter written by a woman only — a letter
written according to the rules of feminine epistolary style.

Japanese Female Names

Fusa . . . ("Tassel") .......... 3

Gin . . . ("Silver") .......... 2

Hama . . ("Shore") .......... 3

Hana . . ("Blossom") ......... 3

HarUe . . ("Spring-time Bay") ...... 1

Hatsu . . ("The First-born") ....... 2

Hide. . . ("Excellent") ......... 4

Hide. . . ("Fruitful") ......... 2

Hisano . . (" Long Plain ") ........ 2

Icbi . . . ("Market") ......... 4

Iku . . . (" Nourishing ") ........ 3

Int . . . ("Springing Rice") ....... 3

kbi . . . ("Stone") ..... ..... 1

Ho ... ("Thread") ......... 4

Iwa . . . ("Rock") .......... 1

Jun . . . ("The Obedient")1 ....... 1

Kagami . . (" Mirror ") ......... 3

Kama . . (" Sickle ") .......... 1

Kame . . ("Tortoise") ......... 2

Kameyo . . (" Generations-of-the-Tortoise")2 . . 1

Kan . . . ("The Forbearing") 3 ...... 11

Kana . . (" Character " — in the sense of written

character) 4 ........ 2

Kane. . . ("Bronze") ......... 3

i Jun surtt means to be obedient unto death. The word fun has a
much stronger signification than that which attaches to our word
" obedience " in these modern times.

* The tortoise is supposed to live for a thousand years.

3 Abbreviation of kannin, " forbearance," " self-control," etc. The
name might equally well be translated " Patience."

* Kana signifies the Japanese syllabary, — the characters with
which the language is written. The reader may imagine, if he wishes,
that the name signifies the Alpha and Omega of all feminine charm ;
but I confess that I have not been able to find any satisfactory expla
nation of it.

8

114

Shadowings

Katsu . . ("Victorious") 2

Ka^asbi . . ("Hair-pin," — or any ornament worn

in the hair) 1

Kaqu . . ("Number,"— i.e., "great number") . 1

Kei . . . ("The Respectful") 3

Ken . . . ("Humility") 1

Kiku . . . (" Chrysanthemum ") 6

KikiM . . ("Chrysanthemum-branch"). . . . l

Kikuno . . ("Chrysanthemum-field") 1

Kind. . . ("Sovereign") 1

Kin . . . ("Gold") 4

Kinu . . . ("Cloth-of-Silk") 1

Kisbi . . ("Beach") 2

Kiyo . . . (" Happy Generations") 1

Kiyo . . . (" Pure ") 5

Ko . . . ("Chime," — the sound of a bell) . . l

K5 . . . (" Filial Piety ") 11

Ko . . . ("The Fine") 1

Koma . . ("Filly") 1

Kami . . (" Cleaned Rice ") 1

Koto. . . ("Koto," — the Japanese harp) ... 4

Kuma . . ("Bear") 1

Kumi . . ("Braid") l

Kuni . . . ("Capital," — chief city) l

Kuni . . . ("Province") 3

Kura. . . ("Treasure-house") 1

Kurano . . ("Storehouse-field") l

Kuri . . . ("Chestnut") 1

Kwoa . . ("Mulberry-tree") l

Masa . . (" Straightforward," — upright) ... 3

Masago . . ("Sand") l

Masu . . ("Increase") 3

Masu't . . (" Branch-of-Increase ") 1

Matsu . . ("Pine") 2

Japanese Female Names

MatsuH . . ("Pine-branch") ........ 1

Micbi . . ("The Way," — doctrine) ..... 4

Mti . . . ("Triple Branch") ....... 1

MiU'e . . ("Main-branch") ........ 1

Mine. . . ("Peak") .......... 2

Mitsu . . ("Light") .......... 5

MitsuV . . ("Shining Branch") ....... 1

Moris . . ("Service-Bay")1 ....... 1

Naka . . (" The Midmost ") ....... 4

Nami . . ("Wave") .......... 1

Nobu. . . ("Fidelity") ......... 6

Nobu . . . ("The Prolonger")2 ...... 1

NobuS . . ("Lengthening-branch") ..... 1

Nui . . . ("Tapestry," — or, Embroidery) . . . 1

Orino . . ("Weaving-Field") ....... 1

Raku. . . ("Pleasure") ......... 3

Ren . . . ("The Arranger") ....... 1

Riku . . . (" Land," — ground) ...... 1

Roku . . . ("Emolument") ........ 1

Ryo . . . ("Dragon") ......... 1

Ryu . . . ("Lofty") .......... 3

Sada . . . ("The Chaste") ........ 8

Saki . . . (" Cape," — promontory) ..... 1

Saku . . . ("Composition")8 ....... 3

Sato . . . (" Home," — native place) ..... 2

Sawa . . . ("Marsh") ......... 1

Set . . . ("Force") .......... 1

Seki . . . ("Barrier," — city-gate, toll-gate, etc.) . 3

1 The word " service " here refers especially to attendance at meal
time, — to the serving of rice, etc.

2 Perhaps in the hopeful meaning of extending the family-line ; but
more probably in the signification that a daughter's care prolongs the
life of her parents, or of her husband's parents.

3 Abbreviation of sakubun, a literary composition.

116

Shadowings

Sen . . . ("Fairy")i ;-. . 3

Setsu . . . (" True," — tender and true) .... 2

Shid^u . . ("The Calmer") l

Sbidp . . ("Peace") 2

Sbiga . . ("Two-fold") 2

Shika . . ("Deer") 2

Shikay . . ("Deer-Inlet") l

Sbime . . (" The Clasp," — fastening) . . . . l

Shin . . . ("Truth") 1

Sbina . . ("Goods") 1

Sbina . . ("Virtue") 1

Shino . . ("Slender Bamboo") l

Shirushi . . (" The Proof," — evidence) .... 1

Shun. . . ("The Excellent") l

Sue . . . ("The Last") 2

Sugi . . . ("Cedar," — cryptomeria) .... l

Bute . . . ("Forsaken," — foundling) .... l

Su^u . . . ("Little Bell") 8

Supt . . . ("Tin") 1

S«{w2 . . (" Branch of Little Bells") l

Tag . . . ("Exquisite") l

Taka . . ("Honor") 2

Taka . . ("Lofty") 9

Take. . . ("Bamboo") 1

Tama . . ("Jewel") 1

Tamaki. . ("Ring") 1

Tame . . ("For-the-Sake-of— ") 3

Tani. . . ("Valley") l

Ta^u. . . ("Ricefield-Stork") l

1 As a matter of fact, we have no English equivalent for" the word
" sen," or " sennin," — signifying a being possessing magical powers
of all kinds and living for thousands of years. Some authorities con
sider the belief in sennin of Indian origin, and probably derived from old
traditions of the Rishi.

Japanese Female Names 117

Tetstt . . ("Iron") 4

Toku . . ("Virtue") 2

Tome . . ("Stop,"— cease)1 1

Tomi . . ("Riches") 3

T&mijff . . (" Wealth-and-Longevity") .... 1

Tomo . . (" The Friend ") 4

Torn. . . ("Tiger") 1

Tosbi . . ("Arrowhead") 1

Tqyo . . . ("Abundance") 3

Tsugi . . (" Next," — i. e., second in order of

birth) 2

Tsuna . . (" Bond," — rope, or fetter) .... 1

Tsune . . (" The Constant," — or, as we should

say, Constance) 10

Tsuru . . ("Stork") 4

Ume . . . ("Plum-blossom") 1

UmegaV . . (" Plumtree-spray " ) 1

Umeno . . (" Plumtree-field ") 2

Urano . . ("Shore-field") 1

Usbi . . . ("Cow," -or Ox) 2 1

Ufa . . . ("Poem," — or Song) 1

Wakana, . (" Young Na," — probably the rape-
plant is referred to) 1

Yea . . . ("Eight-fold") 1

Yasu. . . ("The Tranquil") 1

1 Such a name may signify that the parents resolved, after the birth
of the girl, to have no more children.

2 This extraordinary name is probably to be explained as a refer
ence to date of birth. According to the old Chinese astrology, years,
months, days, and hours were all named after the Signs of the Zodiac,
and were supposed to have some mystic relation to those signs. I sur
mise that Miss Ushi was born at the Hour of the Ox, on the Day of the
Ox, in the Month of the Ox and the Year of the Ox — " Usbi no Totbi
no Usbi no Tsuki no Usbi no Hi no Ushi no Koku."

118 Shadowings

Yd . . . (" The Positive," — as opposed to Neg
ative or Feminine in the old Chinese
philosophy ; — therefore, perhaps,

Masculine) 1

Yone . . . (" Rice," — in the old sense of wealth) . 4

Yosbi . . ("The Good") l

Yosbino . . (" Good Field ") 1

Yu . . . (" The Valiant ") l

Yuri . . ("Lily") 1

It will be observed that in the above list the
names referring to Constancy, Forbearance, and
Filial Piety have the highest numbers attached
to them.

II

A FEW of the more important rules in regard to
Japanese female names must now be mentioned.
The great majority of these yobina are words
of two syllables. Personal names of respect
able women, belonging to the middle and lower
classes, are nearly always dissyllables — except
in cases where the name is lengthened by certain
curious suffixes which I shall speak of further
on. Formerly a name of three or more syllables
indicated that the bearer belonged to a superior
class. But, even among the upper classes to-day,
female names of only two syllables are in fashion.

Japanese Female Names 119

Among the people it is customary that a
female name of two syllables should be pre
ceded by the honorific " O," and followed by the
title " San," — as O-Matsu San, " the Honorable
Miss [or Mrs.] Pine"; O-Ume San, "the Hon
orable Miss Plum-blossom."1 But if the name
happen to have three syllables, the honorific
"O" is not used. A woman named Kihue
("Chrysanthemum-Branch") is not addressed
as " O-Kikue San," but only as " Kikue San."

Before, the names of ladies, the honorific " O "
is no longer used as formerly, — even when the
name consists of one syllable only. Instead of
the prefix, an honorific suffix is appended to the
yobina, — the suffix ho. A peasant girl named
Tomi would be addressed by her equals as
O- Tomi San. But a lady of the same name
would be addressed as Tomiko. Mrs. Shimoda,
head-teacher of the Peeresses' School, for ex
ample, has the beautiful name Ufa. She would
be addressed by letter as " Shimoda Utako," and
would so sign herself in replying ; — the f amily-

1 Under certain conditions of intimacy, both prefix and
title are dropped. They are dropped also by the superior
in addressing an inferior; — for example, a lady would not
address her maid as " O-Yone San" but merely as " Yone"

120 Shadowings

name, by Japanese custom, always preceding the
personal name, instead of being, as with us,
placed after it.

This suffix ho is written with the Chinese
character meaning "child," and must not be
confused with the word ho, written with a dif
ferent Chinese character, and meaning "little,"
which so often appears in the names of dancing
girls. I should venture to say that this genteel
suffix has the value of a caressing diminutive,
and that the name Aiko might be fairly well
rendered by the " Amoretta " of Spenser's Faerie
Queene. Be this as it may, a Japanese lady
named Setsu or Sada would not be addressed
in these days as O-Setsu or O-Sada, but as
Setsuko or Sadako. On the other hand, if a
woman of the people were to sign herself as
Setsuko or Sadako, she would certainly be
laughed at, — since the suffix would give to her
appellation the meaning of "the Lady Setsu,"
or "the Lady Sada."

I have said that the honorific " O " is placed
before the yobina of women of the middle and
lower classes. Even the wife of a hurumaya
would probably be referred to as the " Honor
able Mrs. Such-a-one." But there are very

Japanese Female Names 121

remarkable exceptions to this general rule regard
ing the prefix " O." In some country -districts
the common yobina of two syllables is made a
trisyllable by the addition of a peculiar suffix;
and before such trisyllabic names the "O" is
never placed. For example, the girls of Waka-
yama, in the Province of Kii, usually have
added to their yobina the suffix "e" l signifying
"inlet," "bay," " frith," — sometimes "river."
Thus we find such names as Namie (" Wave-
Bay "), Tomie (" Riches-Bay "), Sumie (" Dwell
ing-Bay"), Sbijue ("Quiet-Bay"), Tama'e
(" Jewel- Bay "). Again there is a provincial
suffix " no" meaning " field " or " plain," which
is attached to the majority of female names in
certain districts. Yosbino ("Fertile Field"),
Umeno (" Plumflower Field "), Sbi^uno (" Quiet
Field "), Urano (" Coast Field "),Utano (" Song
Field"), are typical names of this class. A girl
called Namie or Kikuno is not addressed as
" O-Namie San " or " O-Kikuno San," but as
" Namie San," " Kikuno San."

1 This suffix must not be confused with the suffix " 8,"
signifying "branch," which is also attached to many pop
ular names. Without seeing the Chinese character, you
cannot decide whether the name TamaZ, for example,
means "Jewel-branch" or "Jewel Inlet."

122 Shadowings

"San" (abbreviation of Sama, a word origi
nally meaning "form," "appearance"), when
placed after a female name, corresponds to either
our " Miss " or " Mrs." Placed after a man's
name it has at least the value of our " Mr. ", —
perhaps even more. The unabbreviated form
Sama is placed after the names of high per
sonages of either sex, and after the names of
divinities : the Shinto Gods are styled the Kami-
Sama, which might be translated as " the Lords
Supreme " ; the Bodhisattva Jizo is called Ji%5-
Sama, " the Lord Jizo." A lady may also be
styled "Sama." A lady called Ayako> for in
stance, might very properly be addressed as
Ayako Sama. But when a lady's name, inde
pendently of the suffix, consists of more than
three syllables, it is customary to drop either
the ko or the title. Thus " the Lady Ayame "
would not be spoken of as " Ayameko Sama,"
but more euphoniously as " Ayame Sama," l or
as " Ayameko."

So much having been said as regards the
etiquette of prefixes and suffixes, I shall now

1 " Ayame' Sama," however, is rather familiar ; and this
form cannot be used by a stranger in verbal address,
though a letter may be directed with the name so written.
As a rule, the ko is the more respectful form.

Japanese Female Names 123

attempt a classification of female names, — be
ginning with popular yobina. These will be
found particularly interesting, because they re
flect something of race -feeling in the matter of
ethics and aesthetics, and because they serve to
illustrate curious facts relating to Japanese cus
tom. The first place I have given to names of
purely moral meaning, — usually bestowed in the
hope that the children will grow up worthy of
them. But the lists should in no case be re
garded as complete : they are only representative.
Furthermore, I must confess my inability to ex
plain the reason of many names, which proved
as much of riddles to Japanese friends as to
myself.

NAMES OF VIRTUES AND PROPRIETIES

O-Ai "Love."

O-Cbti "Intelligence."

O-Cbif "Loyalty."

O-Jin "Tenderness," — humanity.

O-Jun "Faithful-to-death."

O-KaiyS . . . . " Forgiveness," — pardon.

O-Ken "Wise," — in the sense of moral

discernment.

O-Ko " Filial Piety."

O-Masa . . . . " Righteous," — just.

O-Micbi .... "The Way," — doctrine.

Misao "Honor," — wifely fidelity.

124 Shadowings

O-Nao "The Upright," — honest.

O-Nobu .... " The Faithful."

O-Rei "Propriety," — in the old Chinese

sense.

O-Retsu . . . . " Chaste and True."

O-Ry5 " The Generous," — magnanimous.

O-Sada "The Chaste."

O-Sei "Truth."

O-Sbin "Faith," — in the sense of fidelity,

trust.

O-Sbi%u .... " The Tranquil," — calm-souled.

O-Setsu . . . . " Fidelity," — wifely virtue.

O-Tame .... " For-the-sake-of," — a name sug
gesting unselfishness.

O-Tei "The Docile," — in the meaning of

virtuous obedience.

O-Toku .... "Virtue."

O-Totno .... "The Friend," — especially in the
meaning of mate, companion.

O-Tsune .... "Constancy."

O-Yasu .... " The Amiable," — gentle.

O-YosM .... "The Good."

O-Yosbt .... " The Respectful."

The next list will appear at first sight more
heterogeneous than it really is. It contains a
larger variety of appellations than the previous
list ; but nearly all of the yobina refer to some
good quality which the parents trust that the
child will display, or to some future happiness
which they hope that she will deserve. To the

Japanese Female Names

latter category belong such names of felicitation
as Miyo and Masayo.

MISCELLANEOUS NAMES EXPRESSING PERSONAL
QUALITIES, OR PARENTAL HOPES

O-Atsu " The Generous," — liberal.

O-Cbika .... " Closely Dear."

O-Cbika . . . . " Thousand Rejoicings."

O-Cb5 "The Long,"— probably in refer
ence to life.

O-Dai "Great."

O-Den " Transmission," — bequest from

ancestors, tradition.

O-E "Fortunate."

O-Ei " Prosperity."

O-En "Charm."

O-En "Prolongation," — of life.

O-Etsu "Surpassing."

O-Etsu " The Playful," — merry, joyous.

O-Fuku . . . . " Good Luck."

O-Gen " Source," — spring, fountain.

O-Haya .... " The Quick," — light, nimble.

O-Hide " Superior."

Hideyo " Superior Generations."

O-Hiro "The Broad."

O-Hisa " The Long." (?)

hamu "The Vigorous," — spirited, robust.

O-Jin " Superexcellent."

Kameyo . . . . " Generations-of-the-Tortoise."

O-Kanel .... " The Doubly-Accomplished."

1 From the strange verb kaneru, signifying, to do two things at the
same time.

126 Shadowings

Kaoru " The Fragrant."

O-Kata . . . . " Worthy Person."

O-Katsu . . . . " The Victorious."

O-Kei "Delight."

O-Kei " The Respectful."

O-Ken "The Humble."

O-KicU .... " The Fortunate."

O-Kimi .... " The Sovereign," — peerless.

O-Kiwa . . . . " The Distinguished."

O-Kiyo ) ( " The Clear," — in the sense of

Kiyosbi \ '"•• *1 bright, beautiful.

O-Kuru . . . . " She-who-Comes " ( ?).*

O-Maru .... "The Round," — plump.

O-Masa .... "The Genteel."

Masayo .... " Generations-of-the-Just."

O-Masu . . . . " Increase."

O-Mia "Triple Branch."

O-Miki "Stem."

O-Mio " Triple Cord."

O-Mitsu .... "Abundance."

O-Miwa . . . . " The Far-seeing."

O-Miwa. . . . . " Three Spokes "(?).»

O-Miyo . . . . " Beautiful Generations."

Miyuki* . . . . " Deep Snow."

O-Moto .... "Origin."

1 One is'reminded of, " O whistle, and I 'II come to you, my lad " —
but no Japanese female name could have the implied signification.
More probably the reference is to household obedience.

2 Such is the meaning of the characters. I cannot understand the
name. A Buddhist explanation suggests itself; but there are few, if
any, Buddhist ydbina.

3 This beautiful name refers to the silence and calm following a
heavy snowfall. But, even for the Japanese, it is an aesthetic name
also — suggesting both tranquillity and beauty.

Japanese Female Names 127

O-Naka .... "Friendship."

O-Rai "Trust."

O-Raku1 .... "Pleasure."

O-Sacbi .... "Bliss."

O-Sai " The Talented."

SakaS "Prosperity."

O-Saku . . . . " The Blooming."

O-Sei " The Refined," — in the sense of

".clear."

O-Sei "Force."

O-Sen " Sennin," — wood-fairy.

O-Sbige . . . . " Exuberant."

O-Sbime .... "The Total," — summum bottum.

O-Sbin "The Fresh."

O-Sbin "Truth."

O-Sbina .... " Goods," — possessions.

Shirusbi .... " Proof," — evidence.

O-Sbi^u . . . . " The Humble."

O-SbS "Truth."

O-Sbun .... "Excellence."

O-Suki " The Beloved," — Aimee.

O-Suke "The Helper."

O-Sumi .... "The Refined," — in the sense of

" sifted."

O-Sute " The Forsaken," — foundling.2

1 The name seems curious, in view of the common proverb, Raku
wa ku no tanc, — " Pleasure is the seed of pain."

2 Not necessarily a real foundling. Sometimes the name may be
explained by a curious old custom. In a certain family several children
in succession die shortly after birth. It is decided, according to tra
ditional usage, that the next child born must be exposed. A girl is the
next child born ; — she is carried by a servant to some lonely place In
the fields, or'elsewhere, and left there. Then a]peasant, or other person,
hired for the occasion (it is necessary that he should be of no kin to the

128 Shadowings

O-TaS "The Exquisite."

O-Taka .... "The Honorable."

O-Taka .... "The Tall."

Takara .... "Treasure," — precious object.

O-Tama .... "Jewel"

Tamat "Jewel-branch."

Tokiwa x . . . . " Eternally Constant."

O-Tomi .... "Riches."

O-Tosbi .... " The Deft," — skilful.

O-Tsuma .... "The Wife."

O-Yori " The Trustworthy."

O-Waka .... "The Young."

Place-names, or geographical names, are
common ; but they are particularly difficult to
explain. A child may be called after a place
because born there, or because the parental
home was there, or because of beliefs belong
ing to the old Chinese philosophy regarding
direction and position, or because of traditional

family), promptly appears, pretends to find the babe, and carries it back
to the parental home. "See this pretty foundling," he says to the
father of the girl, — " will you not take care of it? " The child is re
ceived, and named " SuteV' the foundling. By this innocent artifice, it
was formerly (and perhaps in some places is still) supposed that those
unseen influences, which had caused the death of the other children,
might be thwarted.

1 Lit., "Everlasting-Rock," — but the ethical meaning is " Con-
stancy-everlasting-as-the-Rocks." " Tokiwa " is a name famous both
in history and tradition ; for it was the name of the mother of Yoshit-
sun6. Her touching story, — and especially the episode of her flight
through the deep snow with her boys, — has been a source of inspir
ation to generations of artists.

Japanese Female Names 129

custom, or because of ideas connected with the
religkm of Shinto.

PLACE-NAMES

O-Fuji [Mount] " Fuji."

O-Hama . . . . " Coast."

O-lcU "Market,"— fair.

O-lyo "lyo," — province of lyo, in Shikoku.

O-Kawa (rare) . . "River."

O-Kisbi .... "Beach," — shore.

O-Kita "North."

O-Kiwa . . . . " Border."

O-Kuni .... "Province."

O-KyS " Capital," — metropolis, — Ky6to.

O-Macbi . . . . " Town."

Matsua " Matsug," — chief city of Izumo.

O-Mina1 .... "South."

O-Mine . . . . " Peak."

O-Miya .... "Temple" [SbintS}?

O-Mon* .... "Gate."

O-Mura .... "Village."

O-Nami* .... "Wave."

Naniwa .... " Naniwa," — ancient name of Osaka.

O-Nisbi .... "West."

1 Abbreviation of Minami.

2 I must confess that in classing this name as a place-name, I am
only making a guess. It seems to me that the name probably refers to
the icbi no miya, or chief Shinto temple of some province.

8 I fancy that this name, like that of O-S£ki, must have originated
In the custom of naming children after the place, or neighborhood,
where the family lived. But here again, I am guessing.

* This classification also is a guess. I could learn nothing about
the name, except the curious fact that it is said to be unlucky.

9

130 Shadowings

O-Rin ..... "Park."

O-Saki ..... " Cape."

O-Sato ..... " Native Place," — village, — also,

home.

O-Sawa .... "Marsh."

O-Seki ..... " Toll-Gate," — barrier.

Shigeki ..... " Thickwood," — forest.

O-Sbima .... "Island."

O-Sono ..... " Flower-garden."

O-Taki ..... "Cataract," — or Waterfall.

O-Tani ..... "Valley."

O-Tsuka .... "Milestone."

O-Yama .... "Mountain."

The next list is a curious medley, so far as re
gards the quality of the yobina comprised in it.
Some are really aesthetic and pleasing ; others in
dustrial only ; while a few might be taken for
nicknames of the most disagreeable kind.

NAMES OF OBJECTS AND OF OCCUPATIONS
ESPECIALLY PERTAINING TO WOMEN

Ayakom\ "Damask-pattern."

O-Aa^ \

O-Fumi . . . . " Woman's Letter."

O-Fusa ..... "Tassel."

O-Ito ..... "Thread."

O-Kama'* . . "Rice-Sickle."

1 Aya-Nisbiki, — the famous figured damask brocade of Kyoto, — is
probably referred to.

* O-Kama (Sickle) is a familiar peasant-name. O-Kama (caldron,
or iron cooking-pot), and several other ugly names in this list are ser-

Japanese Female Names

O-Kama . ;. *;' . "Caldron."

Ka^asbi . . . . " Hair-pin."

O-Kinu .... " Cloth-of-Silk."

O-Koto "Harp."

O-Nabe "Pot," — or cooking-vessel

O-Nui " Embroidery."

O-Sbime .... "Clasp," — ornamentalfastening.

O-Some .... "The Dyer."

O-Taru .... " Cask," — barrel.

The following list consists entirely of material
nouns used as names. There are several yobina
among them of which I cannot find the emblem
atical meaning. Generally speaking, the yobina
which signify precious substances, such as silver
and gold, are aesthetic names ; and those which
signify common hard substances, such as stone,
rock, iron, are intended to suggest firmness or
strength of character. But the name " Rock "
is also sometimes used as a symbol of the wish
for long life, or long continuance of the family
line. The curious name Suna has nothing, how
ever, to do with individual " grit " : it is half-
moral and half -aesthetic. Fine sand — especially
colored sand — is much prized in this fairy-land

vants' names. Servants in old time not only trained their children to
become servants, but gave them particular names referring to their
future labors.

132 Shadowings

of landscape-gardening, where it is used to cover
spaces that must always be kept spotless and
beautiful, and never trodden, — except by the
gardener.

MATERIAL NOUNS USED AS NAMES

O-Gin "Silver."

O-Isbi "Stone."

O-Iwa "Rock."

O-Kane . . . . " Bronze."

O-Katfl .... "Air," — perhaps Wind.

O-Kin "Gold."

O-Run*\ _ _ ^ "Emerald," — emeraldine?
Runko >

O-Ryu " Fine Metal."

O-Sato "Sugar."

O-Seki "Stone."

O-Sbiwo .... "Salt."

O-Suna "Sand."

O-5«f«. .... "Tin."

O-Tane .... "Seed."

O-Tetsu .... "Iron."

The following five yobina are aesthetic names,
— although literally signifying things belonging
to intellectual work. Four of them, at least,

1 I cannot find any explanation of this curious name.

2 The Japanese name does not give the same quality of aesthetic
sensation as the name EsmeraUa. The ruri is not usually green, but
blue ; and the term " ruri-iro " (emerald color) commonly signifies a
dark violet.

Japanese Female Names

refer to calligraphy, — the matchless calligra
phy of the Far East, —rather than to anything
that we should call "literary beauty."

LITERARY NAMES

O-Bun " Composition."

O-Fude " Writing-Brush."

O-Fumi .... "Letter."

O-Kaku .... "Writing."

O-Uta "Poem."

Names relating to number are very common,
but also very interesting. They may be loosely
divided into two sub-classes, — names indicating
the order or the time of birth, and names of
felicitation. Such yobina as Ichi, San, Roku,
Hacbi usually refer to the order of birth; but
sometimes they record the date of birth. For
example, I know a person called O-Roku, who
received this name, not because she was the sixth
child born in the family, but because she entered
this world upon the sixth day of the sixth month
of the sixth Meiji. It will be observed that the
numbers Two, Five, and Nine are not represented
in the list : the mere idea of such names as O-Ni,
O-Go, or O-Ku seems to a Japanese absurd. 1
do not know exactly why, — unless it be that they

134 Shadowings

suggest unpleasant puns. The place of O-Ni is
well supplied, however, by the name O- Tsugi
,("Next")> which will be found in a subsequent
list. Names signifying numbers ranging from
eighty to a thousand, and upward, are names of
felicitation. They express the wish that the
bearer may live to a prodigious age, or that her
posterity may flourish through the centuries.

NUMERALS AND WORDS RELATING TO NUMBER

O-Icbi . .

. . . "One."

O-San . .

. . . "Three."

O-Mitsu .

. . . "Three."

O-Yotsu .

'. . . "Four."

O-Roku

" Six."

O-Sbicbi .

. . . "Seven."

O-Hacbi .

. . . "Eight."

O-IU

. . . "Ten."

O-Iso

. . . "Fifty."i

O-Yaso .

. . . "Eighty."

O-Hyaku .

. . . "Hundred."3

O-Yao . .

..." Eight Hundred."

O-Sen . .

. ,. . "Thousand."

O-Micbi .

. . . " Three Thousand.

O-Man "Ten Thousand."

1 Such a name may record the fact that the girl was a first-born
child, and the father fifty years old at the time of her birth.

2 The "O" before this trisyllable seems contrary to rule; but
Hyaku Is pronounced almost like a dissyllable.

Japanese Female Names 135

O-Cbiyo . . . . " Thousand Generations."
Yachiyo . . . . " Eight Thousand Generations."

O-Sbtge .... "Two-fold."

O-Yat "Eight-fold."

O-Ka^u . . . . " Great Number."

O-Mina .... "All."

O-Han " Half." *

O-Iku " How Many ?"(?)

OTHER NAMES RELATING TO ORDER OF BIRTH

O-Hatsu .... "Beginning," — first-born.

O-Tsugi .... "Next,"— the second.

ONaka .... "Midmost." j

O-Tome .... "Stop," — cease.

O-Sue "Last."

Some few of the next group of names are prob
ably aesthetic. But such names are sometimes
given only in reference to the time or season of
birth; and the reason for any particular yobina
of this class is difficult to decide without personal
inquiry.

NAMES RELATING TO TIME AND SEASON

O-Haru .... "Spring."
O-Natsu . " Summer."

1 " Better half? " — the reader may query. But I believe that this
name originated in the old custom of taking a single character of the
father's name — sometimes also a character of the mother's name — to
compose the child's name with. Perhaps in this case the name of the
girl's father was HANyemon, or HANbei.

136 Shado wings

O-Aki "Autumn."

O-Fuyu .... "Winter."

O-Asa "Morning."

O-Cbo "Dawn."

O-Yoi " Evening."

O-Sayo " Night."

O-Ima "Now."

O-Toki "Time," — opportunity.

O-Tosbi .... " Year [of Plenty]."

Names of animals — real or mythical — form
another class of yobina. A name of this kind
generally represents the hope that the child will
develop some quality or capacity symbolized by
the creature after which it has been called.
Names such as " Dragon," " Tiger," " Bear," etc.,
are intended in most cases to represent moral
rather than other qualities. The moral symbol
ism of the Koi (Carp) is too well-known to re
quire explanation here. The names Kame and
Tsuru refer to longevity. Koma, curious as the
fact may seem, is a name of endearment.

NAMES OF BIRDS, FISHES, ANIMALS, ETC.

Cbidori " Sanderling."

O-Kame .... "Tortoise."
O-Koi "Carp."i

1 Cyprinus carpio.

Japanese Female Names 137

O-Koma .... " Filly," —or pony.

O-Kuma .... "Bear."

O-Ryd "Dragon."

O-Sbika .... "Deer."

O-Tai "Bream."1

O-Taka .... "Hawk."

0-Tako .... " Cuttlefish." (?)

O-Tatsu .... "Dragon."

O-Tora .... "Tiger."

O-Tori "Bird."

O-Tsuru .... "Stork."2

O-WasU .... "Eagle."
I

Evtnyobina which are the names of flowers or
fruits, plants or trees, are in most cases names of
moral or felicitous, rather than of aesthetic mean
ing. The plumflower is an emblem of feminine
virtue ; the chrysanthemum, of longevity ; the pine,
both of longevity and constancy ; the bamboo, of
fidelity ; the cedar, of moral rectitude ; the willow,
of docility and gentleness, as well as of physical
grace. The symbolism of the lotos and of the
cherryflower are probably familiar. But such
names as Hana ("Blossom") and Ben (" Petal")

1 Cbrysopbris cardinalis.

2 Sometimes this name is shortened into O-Tsu. In Tokyo at the
present time it is the custom to drop the honorific " O" before such
abbreviations, and to add to the name the suffix " chan," — as in the
case of children's names. Thus a young woman may be caressingly
addressed as " Tsu-chan " (for O-Tsuru), " Ya-chan " (for O-Yasu),
«tc.

Shadowings

are aesthetic in the true sense ; and the Lily re
mains in Japan, as elsewhere, an emblem of
feminine grace.

FLOWER-NAMES

Ayame " Iris." l

Aqxmi "Thistle-Flower."

O-Ben "Petal."

O-Fuji "Wistaria."2

O-Hana .... "Blossom."

O-Kiku " Chrysanthemum."

O-Ran "Orchid."

O-Ren "Lotos."

Sakurako . . . . " Cherryblossom."

O-Ume " Plumflower."

O-Yuri "Lily."

NAMES OF PLANTS, FRUITS, AND TREES

O-Ine " Rice-in-the-blade."

Katde "Maple-leaf."

O-Kaya. . . . . " Rush." s

O-Kaya .... "Yew."4

O-Kuri "Chestnut."

O-Kuwa .... "Mulberry."

O-MaU .... "Fir."6

O-Mame . . "Bean."

1 Ms sctosa, or Ms sibrisia.

* Wistaria cbinensis.

8 fmperata arundinacea.

* Torreya nucifera.

' Podocarpus cbinensis.

Japanese Female Names 139

O-Momo . .'. . " Peach," — the fruit.1

O-Nara .... "Oak."

O-Rjnl " Willow.",

Sanat " Sprouting-Rice."

O-Sane " Fruit-seed."

O-Shino . . . . " Slender Bamboo."

O-Suge "Reed."3

O-Sugi "Cedar."8

O-Take .... "Bamboo."

O-Tsuta .... "Ivy."*

O-YaS "Double-Blossom." 6

O-Yone .... " Rice-in-grain."

Wakana. .... " Young Na" 6

Names signifying light or color seem to us the
most aesthetic of all yobina ; and they probably
seem so to the Japanese. Nevertheless the rela
tive purport even of these names cannot be di
vined at sight. Colors have moral and other
values in the old nature-philosophy; and an
appellation that to the Western mind suggests
only luminosity or beauty may actually refer

1 Yet this name may possibly have been written with the wrong
character. There is another yobina, " Momo " signifying " hundred,"
— as in the phrase momoyo, " for a hundred ages."

2 Scirpus maritimus.

8 Cryptomtria Japonica.

* Cissus Tbunbergii.

6 A flower-name certainly ; but the_ya« here is probably an abbrevi
ation of jrae-^akura, the double-flower of a particular species of cherry-
tree.

• Brastica chinensis.

140

Shadowings

to moral or social distinction, — to the hope that
the girl so named will become " illustrious."

NAMES SIGNIFYING BRIGHTNESS

O-Mika . . . . " New Moon." 1

O-Mitsu . . . . " Light."

O-Sbimo . . . . " Frost."

O-Teru "The Shining."

O-Tsuki .... "Moon."

O-Tsuya . . . . "The Glossy," — lustrous.

O-Tsuyu . . . . " Dew."

O-Yuki . " Snow."

COLOR-NAMES

O-Ai " Indigo."

O-Aka "Red."

O-Iro ....
O-Kon ....
O-Kuro . . .
Midori* . . .
Murasaki* . .
O-Sbiro . . ,

" Color."

" Deep Blue."

"Dark," — lit., "Black."

" Green."

" Purple."

" White."

1 Mika is an abbreviation of Mika^uki. " the moon of the third night "
[of the old lunar month].

* Midori and Murasaki, especially the latter, should properly be
classed with aristocratic yobina ; and both are very rare. I could find
neither in the collection of aristocratic names which was made for me
from the records of the Peeresses' School ; but I discovered a " Midori "
In a list of middle-class names. Color-names being remarkably few
among^ofci'«a, I thought it better in this instance to group the whole of
them together, independently of class-distinctions.

Japanese Female Names 141

The following and final group of female
names contains several queer puzzles. Japan
ese girls are sometimes named after the family
crest ; and heraldry might explain one or two of
these yobina. But why a girl should be called a
ship, I am not sure of being able to guess. Per
haps some reader may be reminded of Nietzsche's
" Little Brig called Angeline " : —

" Angeline — they call me so —
Now a ship, one time a maid,
(Ah, and evermore a maid ! )
Love the steersman, to and fro,
Turns the wheel so finely made."

But such a fancy would not enter into a Japanese
mind. I find, however, in a list of family crests,
two varieties of design representing a ship, twenty
representing an arrow, and two representing a
bow.

NAMES DIFFICULT TO CLASSIFY OR EXPLAIN

O-Fuku1 .... "Raiment," — clothing.

O-Fune " Ship," — or Boat.

O-Hina* .... " Doll," — a paper doll ?

1 Possibly this name belongs to the same class as O-Nui (" Em
broidery "), O-Some (" The Dyer ") ; but I am not sure.

* Probably a name of caress. The word hiaa is applied especially
to the little paper dolls made by hand for amusement,, — representing

142 Shadow! ngs

O-Kono .... "This."

O-Nao " Still More."

O-Nari "Thunder-peal."

O-Mbo " Palanquin'/ ' ( ?).

O-Rai "Thunder."

O-Rui " Sort," — kind, species.

.... " Little Bell."

" Branch-of-Little-Bells."

O-Tada .... " The Only."

Tamaki .... " Armlet," — bracelet.

O-Tamt .... "Folk," — common people.

O-Tosbi .... "Arrowhead," — or barb.

O-Tsui "Pair," — match.

O-Tsuna . . . . " Rope," — bond.

O-Yumi .... "Bow," — weapon.

Before passing on to the subject of aristocratic
names, I must mention an old rule for Japanese
names, — a curious rule that might help to ac
count for sundry puzzles in the preceding lists.
This rule formerly applied to all personal names,
— masculine or feminine. It cannot be fully ex
plained in the present paper ; for a satisfactory

young ladies with elaborate coiffure ; and it is also given to the old-
fashioned dolls representing courtly personages in full ceremonial cos
tume. The true doll — doll-baby — is called ningyd.

1 Perhaps this name is given because of the sweet sound of the
su%u, — a tiny metal ball, with a little stone or other hard object inside,
to make the ringing. — It is a pretty Japanese custom to put one of these
little su%u in the silk charm-bag (mamori-bukero) which is attached to a
child's girdle. The sv^u rings with every motion that the child makes,
— somewhat like one of those tiny bells which we attach to the neck of
a pet kitten.

Japanese Female Names 143

O
H
J

UJ
Cti

O

I

O

a.

a ' ?.

144 Shadowings

explanation would occupy at least fifty pages.
But, stated in the briefest possible way, the rule
is that the first or " head-character " of a personal
name should be made to " accord " (in the Chi
nese philosophic sense) with the supposed Sei, or
astrologically-determined nature, of the person to
whom the name is given; — the required accord
ance being decided, not by the meaning, but by
the sound of the Chinese written character.
Some vague idea of the difficulties of the sub
ject may be obtained from the accompanying
table. (Page 143.)

Ill

FOR examples of contemporary aristocratic
names I consulted the reports of the Kwa^ohu-
Jogahko (Peeresses' School), published between
the nineteenth and twenty -seventh years of Meiji
(1886-1895). The Kwazoku-Jogakko admits
other students besides daughters of the nobility ;
but for present purposes the names of the latter
only — to the number of one hundred and forty-
seven — have been selected.

It will be observed that names of three or
more syllables are rare among these, and also

Japanese Female Names

that the modern aristocratic yobina of two syl
lables, as pronounced and explained, differ little
from ordinary yobina. But as written in
Chinese they differ greatly from other female
names, being in most cases represented by char
acters of a complex and unfamiliar kind. The
use of these more elaborate characters chiefly
accounts for the relatively large number of
homonyms to be found in the following
list: —

PERSONAL NAMES OF LADY STUDENTS OF THE
KWAZOKU JOGAKKO

Aki-ko . .
Aki-ko . .
Aki-ko , .
Asa-ko . .
Aya-ko . .
Chiharu-ko
Cbika-ko .
Cbitsuru-ko
Cbiyo-ko .
Ei-ko . .
Etsu-ko . .
Fuji-ko . .
Fuku-ko
Fumi-ko
Fuyo-ko
Fuyu-ko
Hana-ko
10

Autumn."
The Clear-Minded."
Dawn."

Fair Morning."
Silk Damask."
A Thousand Springs."
Near," — close.
1 A Thousand Storks."
A Thousand Generations."
Bell-Chime."
Delight."
Wistaria."
Good-Fortune."
A Woman's Letter."
Lotos-flower."
Winter."
Flower."

146 Shadowings

Hana-ko . . . . " Fair-Blooming."

Haru-ko . . . . " The Tranquil."

Haru-ko .... "Spring," — the season of flowers.

Haru-ko .... " The Far-Removed," — in the sense,
perhaps, of superlative.

Hatsu-ko . . . . "The First-born."

Hide-ko .... "Excelling."

Hide-ko .... "Surpassing."

Hiro-ko "Magnanimous,"— literally ."broad,"

" large," — in the sense of benefi
cence.

Hiro-ko "Wide-Spreading," — with reference

to family prosperity.

Hisa-ko "Long-lasting."

Hisa-ko " Continuing."

Hoshi-ko .... "Star."

Iku-ko "The Quick," — in the sense of living.

Ima-ko ..,..." Now."

Iho-ko " Five Hundred," — probably a name

of felicitation.

Ito-ko "Sewing-Thread."

Kame-ko .... "Tortoise."

Kane-ko . . . . " Going around " ( ?).*

Kant-ko .... "Bell," — the character indicates a
large suspended bell.

Kata-ko .... "Condition"?

Ka^u-ko .... "First."

Ka^u-ko .... "Number," — a great number.

Ka^u-ko .... " The Obedient."

Kiyo-ko .... "The Pure."

1 It Is possible that this name was made simply by taking: one char
acter of the father's name. The girl's name otherwise conveys no
intelligible meaning.

Japanese Female Names 147

K5* " Filial Piety."

Kd-ko "Stork."

Koto "Harp."

Kuni-ko . . . . " Province."

Kuni "Country," — in the largest sense.

Kyd-ho " Capital," — metropolis.

Macbi " Ten-Thousand Thousand."

Makoto "True-Heart."

Masa-ko .... " The Trustworthy," — sure.

Masa-ko .... " The Upright."

Masu-ko .... "Increase."

Mata-ko .... "Completely," — wholly.

Matsu-ko . . . . " Pine-tree."

Michi-ko .... " Three Thousand."

Mine " Peak."

Mine-ko . . . . " Mountain-Range."

Mitsu-ko . . . . " Light," — radiance.

Miyo-ko . . . . " Beautiful Generations."

Moto-ko .... "Origin," — source.

Naga-ko .... "Long," — probably in reference to

time.

Naga-ko .... "Long Life."

Nami-ko . . . . " Wave."

Nao-ko "Correct," — upright.

Nyo-ko* .... "Gem-Treasure."

1 The suffix "ko" is sometimes dropped for reasons of euphony,
and sometimes for reasons of good taste — difficult to explain to readers
unfamiliar with the Japanese language — even when the name consists
of only one syllable or of two syllables.

2 This name is borrowed from the name of the sacred gem Nyoiboju,
which figures both in Shinto and in Buddhist legend. The divinity
Jizo is usually represented holding in one hand this gem, which is said
to have the power of gratifying any desire that its owner can entertain.
Perhaps the Nyoiboju may be identified with the Gem-Treasure Velwriya%

148 Shado wings

Nobu-ko .... "Faithful."

Nobu-ko .... "Abundance," — plenty.

Nobu-ko .... " The Prolonger."

Nori-ko "Precept," — doctrine.

Nat "Embroidery," — sewing.

Oki " Offing," — perhaps originally a

place-name.1

Sada-ko . . . . " The Chaste."

Sada-ko .... "The Sure," — trustworthy.

Sakura-ko . . . . " Cherry-Blossom."

SakaV " The Prosperous,"

Sato-ko " Home."

Sato-ko " The Discriminating."

Seki-ko "Great."

Setsu-ko .... "The Chaste."

Sbige-ko .... "Flourishing."

Sbige-ko .... "Exuberant," — in the sense of rich

growth.

Sbige-ko .... "Upgrowing."

Sbige-ko .... "Fragrance."

Sbiki-ko .... "Prudence."

Sbima-ko .... "Island."

Sbin-ko .... " The Fresh," — new.

Sbipt-ko .... " The Quiet," — calm.

Sbi^u? " Quiet River."

Sono-ko .... "Garden."

Sut-ko " Last," — in the sense of youngest.

Suke-ko "The Helper."

mentioned in the Sfltra of The Great King of Glory, chapter i. (See
Sacred Books of the East, vol. xi.)

1 A naval officer named Oki told me that his family had originally
been settled in the Oki Islands (" Islands of the Offing "). This in
teresting coincidence suggested to me that the above yobina might have
had the same origin.

Japanese Female Names 149

Sumi-ko

Sumi-ko

Sumis-ko

Su^u-ko

Su^u-ko

Taka-ko .

Taka-ko .

Taka-ko .

Take-ko .

Taki-ko .

Tama-ko .

Tama-ko .

Tame-ko .

Tami-ko .

Tane-ko .

Tatsu-ko .
Tatsuru-kol
Tatsuru-ko

Teru-ko .

Tetsu-ko .
Toki-ko

Tome-ko .

Tomi-ko .
Tomo
Tomo

Tomo-ko .

Tosbi-ko .

Toyo-ko .
Tsune

Tsune-ko .

. "The Clear," — spotless, refined.

. " The Veritable," — real.

. " Clear River."

. "Tin."

. " Little Bell."

" Sound of Little Bell."
. "High,"— lofty, superior.
. " Filial Piety."
. "Precious."
. "Bamboo."
. "Waterfall."
. " Gem," — jewel.
. "Gem," — written with a different

character.

. " For the Sake of — "
. " People," — folks.
. " Successful."
. " Attaining."
. " Many Storks."
." Ricefield Stork."
. "Beaming," — luminous.
. " Iron."

" Time."
. " Cessation."
. " Riches."

" Intelligence."

" Knowledge."
. " Friendship."
. " The Quickly-Perceiving."
. " Fruitful."

" Constancy."
. "Ordinary," — usual, common.

1 So written, but probably pronounced as two syllables only.

Tsune-ko .

Tsune-ko ,

Tsuru-ko ,

Tsuya-ko ,

Ume . ,
Ume-ko

Yacbi-ko ,
Yaso-ko
Yasosbi-ko
Yasu-ko
Yasu-ko
Yasu-ko
Yone-ko
Yori-ko

Yosbi . .

Yosbi-ko .

Yosbi-ko .

Yosbi-ko .

Yosbi-ko .

Yosbi-ko .

Yosbi-ko .

Yosbi-ko .

Yosbi-ko .

Yuki-ko .

Yuki-ko .

Yuku-ko .

Yutaka . ,

" Ordinary,"— written with a differ
ent character.

" Faithful," — in the sense of wifely
fidelity.

" Stork."

" The Lustrous," — shining, glossy.

" Female Hare."

" Plum-Blossom."

" Eight Thousand."

" Eighty."

" Eighty-four."

" The Maintainer," — supporter.

" The Respectful."

" The Tranquil-Minded."

" Rice."

" The Trustful."

" Eminent," — celebrated.

" Fragrance."

" The Good," —or Gentle.

" The Lovable."

"The Lady-like," — gentle in the
sense of refined.

" The Joyful."

" Congratulation."

" The Happy."

" Bright and Clear."

" The Lucky."

" Snow."

" Going."

" Plenty," — affluence, superabun
dance.

Japanese Female Names

IV

IN the first part of this paper I suggested that the
custom of giving very poetical names to geisha
and tojoro might partly account for the unpopu
larity of purely esthetic yobina. And in the
hope of correcting certain foreign misapprehen
sions, I shall now venture a few remarks about
the names of geisha.

Geisha-mmes, — like other classes of names, —
although full of curious interest, and often in
themselves really beautiful, have become hope
lessly vulgarized by association with a calling the
reverse of respectable. Strictly speaking, they
have nothing to do with the subject of the
present study, — inasmuch as they are not real
personal names, but professional appellations only,
— not yobina, but geimyo.

A large proportion of such names can be dis
tinguished by certain prefixes or suffixes attached
to them. They can be known, for example, —

( 1 ) By the prefix Waka, signifying " Young " ;

— as in the names Wakagusa, " Young Grass " ;

Waka^uru, " Young Stork " ; Wakamurasaki,

" Young Purple " ; Wakakoma, " Young Filly ".

Shadowings

(2) By the prefix Ko, signifying " Little " ; —
as in the names, Ko-en, " Little Charm " ; Ko-
bana, "Little Flower"; Ko^akura, "Little
Cherry-Tree ".

(3) By the suffix Ryo, signifying " Dragon "
(the Ascending Dragon being especially a symbol
of success) ; — as Tama-Ryo, " Jewel-Dragon " ;
Hana-Ryo, " Rower-Dragon " ; Kin-Ryo, " Gol
den-Dragon ".

(4) By the suffix jiy signifying " to serve ",
"to administer"; — as in the names Uta-ji,
Shinne-ji, Katsu-ji.

(5) By the suffix suke, signifying " help " ; —
as in the names Tama-suke, Koma-suke.

(6) By the suffix kicbi, signifying " luck ",
" fortune " ; — as Uta-kicU, " Song-Luck " ;
Tama-hicbi, "Jewel -Fortune".

(7) By the suffix giku (i. e., hihu), signifying
" chrysanthemum " ; — as Mitsu-giku, " Three
Chrysanthemums " ; Hina-giku, " Doll-Chrysan
themum " ; Ko-giku, " Little Chrysanthemum ".

(8) By the suffix tsuru, signifying " stork "
(emblem of longevity) ; — as Koma-tsuru,
" Filly-Stork " ; Ko-tsuru, " Little Stork " ; Ito-
%uru, " Thread- Stork ".

Japanese Female Names

These forms will serve for illustration; but
there are others. Geimyo are written, as a gen
eral rule, with only two Chinese characters, and
are pronounced as three or as four syllables.
Geimyo of five syllables are occasionally to be
met with ; geimyo of only two syllables are rare
-at least among names of dancing girls. And
these professional appellations have seldom any
moral meaning: they signify things relating to
longevity, wealth, pleasure, youth, or luck, —
perhaps especially to luck.

Of late years it became a fashion among cer
tain classes of geisha in the capital to assume real
names with the genteel suffix Ko, and even aris
tocratic yobina. In 1889 some of the Tokyo
newspapers demanded legislative measures to
check the practice. This incident would seem to
afford proof of public feeling upon the subject.

Old Japanese Songs

Old Japanese Songs

r

THIS New Year's morning I find upon my
table two most welcome gifts from a
young poet of my literary class. One
is a roll of cloth for a new kimono, — cloth such
as my Western reader never saw. The brown
warp is cotton thread ; but the woof is soft white
paper string, irregularly speckled with black.
When closely examined, the black specklings
prove to be Chinese and Japanese characters ; —
for the paper woof is made out of manuscript, —
manuscript of poems, — which has been deftly
twisted into fine cord, with the written surface
outwards. The general effect of the white, black,
and brown in the texture is a warm mouse-grey.
In many Izumo homes a similar kind of cloth is
manufactured for family use ; but this piece was
woven especially 'for me by the mother of my
pupil. It will make a most comfortable winter-
is?

1 ">8 Shadowings

robe; and when wearing it, I shall be literally
clothed with poetry, — even as a divinity might
be clothed with the sun.

The other gift is poetry also, but poetry in the
original state : a wonderful manuscript collection
of Japanese songs gathered from unfamiliar
sources, and particularly interesting from the
fact that nearly all of them are furnished with
refrains. There are hundreds of compositions,
old and new, — including several extraordinary
ballads, many dancing-songs, and a surprising
variety of love-songs. Neither in sentiment nor
in construction do any of these resemble the
Japanese poetry of which I have already, in pre
vious books, offered specimens in translation.
The forms are, in most cases, curiously irregular ;
but their irregularity is not without a strange
charm of its own.

I am going to offer examples of these com
positions, — partly because of their unfamiliar
emotional quality, and partly because 1 think that
something can be learned from their strange art
of construction. The older songs — selected from
the antique drama — seem to me particularly
worthy of notice. The thought or feeling and

Old Japanese Songs

its utterance are supremely simple ; yet by primi
tive devices of reiteration and of pause, very
remarkable results have been obtained. What
strikes me especially noteworthy in the following
specimen is the way that the phrase, begun with
the third line of the first stanza, and interrupted
by a kind of burthen, is repeated and finished in
the next stanza. Perhaps the suspension will
recall to Western readers the effect of some
English ballads with double refrains, or of such
quaint forms of French song as the famous —

Au jardin de mon p£re —
Vole, mon coeur, vole !

II y a un pommier doux,
Tout doux!

But in the Japanese song the reiteration of the
broken phrase produces a slow dreamy effect as
unlike the effect of the French composition as the
movements of a Japanese dance are unlike those
of any Western round : —

160 Shadowings

KANO YUKU WA

(Probably from the eleventh century)

Kano yuku wa,

Kari ka ? — kugui ka ?

Kari naraba, —

(Ref.) Hareyatotot
Hareya toto!

Kari nara

Nanori zo se'mashi ; —

Nao kugui nari-ya ! —

(Ref.) Toto I

That which yonder flies, —
Wild goose is it ? — swan is it ?
Wild goose if it be, —

Hareya totd!

Hareya tdtd!

Wild goose if it be,
Its name I soon shall say :
Wild swan if it be, — better still !
T5to!

There are many old lyrics in the above form.
Here is another song, of different construction,
also from the old drama : there is no refrain, but

Old Japanese Songs 161

there is the same peculiar suspension of phrase ;
and the effect of the quadruple repetition is
emotionally impressive : —

Isora ga saki ni
Tai tsuru ama mo,
Tai tsuru ama mo, —

Wagimoko ga tame to,
Tai tsuru ama mo,

Tai tsuru ama mo !
»

Off the Cape of Isora,

Even the fisherman catching tai,1

Even the fisherman catching tai, —

[Works] for the sake of the woman beloved, —
Even the fisherman catching tat,
Even the fisherman catching tai!

But a still more remarkable effect is obtained in
the following ancient song by the extraordinary
reiteration of an uncompleted phrase, and by a
double suspension. I can imagine nothing more
purely natural : indeed the realism of these sim
ple utterances has almost the quality of pathos : —

1 Cbrjtsopbris cardinal^, a kind of sea-bream. — generally esteemed
the best of Japanese fishes.
11

162 Shadowings

AGEMAKI

(Old lyrical drama — date uncertain)

Agemaki l wo
Waseda ni yarite ya !
So omou to,
So omou to,
So omou to,
So omou to,
So omou to, —

So omou to,
Nani-mo sezushite, —
Harubi sura,
Harubi sura,
Harubi sura,
Harubi sura,
Harubi sura !

My darling boy ! —

Oh ! they have sent him to the ricefields !
When I think about him, —
When I think,
When I think,

1 It was formerly the custom to shave the heads of boys, leaving
only a tuft or lock of hair on either temple. Such a lock was called
agemaki, a word also meaning " tassel " ; and eventually the term
came to signify a boy or lad. In these songs it is used as a term of
endearment, — much as an English girl might speak of her sweetheart
as " my dear lad," or " my darling boy."

Old Japanese Songs 163

When I think,
When I think,—

When I think about him I
I — doing nothing at all, —

Even on this spring-day,
Even this spring-day,
Even this spring-day,
Even this spring-day,
Even on this spring-day ! —

Other forms of repetition and of refrain are
furnished in the two following lyrics : —

BINDATARA

(Supposed to have been composed as early as the twelfth
century)

Bindatara wo
Ayugaseba koso,
Ayugaseba koso,
Aikyo zuitare !

Yareko toto,
Yar&ko toto!

With loosened hair, —
Only because of having tossed it,
Only because of having shaken it, —
Oh, sweet she is !

Yareko tots!
Yareko tots!

164 Shadowings

SAMA WA TENNIN

(Probably from the sixteenth century}

Sama wa tennin !
Sort-sore,
Tontororil

Otome no sugata
Kumo no kayoiji
Chirato mita!

Tontorori I

Otome no sugata
Kumo no kayoiji
Chirato mita !

Tontorori !

My beloved an angel is ! 1

Sore-sori !

Tontorori!
The maiden's form,
In the passing of clouds,
In a glimpse I saw !

Tontorori !
The maiden's form,
In the passage of clouds,
In a glimpse I saw !

Tontorori !

1 Lit.. " a Tennin " ; —that is to say. an inhabitant of the Buddhist
heaven. The Tennin are usually represented as beautiful maidens.

Old Japanese Songs

My next selection is from a love -song of un
certain date, belonging to the Kamakura period
(1186-1332). This fragment is chiefly remark
able for its Buddhist allusions, and for its very
regular form of stanza : —

Makoto yara,
Kashima no minato ni
Miroku no mifune ga
Tsuite gozarimosu.

Yono I

Sd iyoe, iyoe !
Sd iyoe, iyoe!

Hobashira wa,
Kogane no hobashira ;
Ho niwa Hokkekyo no
Go no man-makimono.

Sa iyoe, iyoe !

Sd iyoe, iyoe I

I know not if 't is true

That to the port of Kashima

The august ship of Miroku 1 has come I

Yono!

Sa iyo'i, iyo'i !
Saiyo'6, iyo'il

1 Miroku Bosatsu (Maitreya Bodhisattva) is the next great Buddha
to come.

166 Shado wings

As for the mast,

It is a mast of gold ; —

The sail is the fifth august roll

Of the Hokkacyo ! 1

Sa iyo'6, iyot !

Otherwise interesting, with its queer refrain, is
another song called " Agemaki," — belonging to
one of the curious class of lyrical dramas known
as Saibara. This may be found fault with as
somewhat " free " ; but I cannot think it more
open to objection than some of our much-ad
mired Elizabethan songs which were probably
produced at about the same time: —

AGEMAKI

(Probably from the sixteenth century)

Agemaki ya !

Tonton I
Hiro bakari ya —

Tonton I

1 Japanese popular name for the Chinese version of the Saddharma
Pundarika Sutra. — Many of the old Buddhist scriptures were written
upon long scrolls, called makimono, — a name also given to pictures
printed upon long rolls of silk or paper.

Old Japanese Songs 167

Sakarite netaredomo,
Marobi-ainikeri, —

Tonton !
Kayori-ainikeri,

Tonton /

Oh ! my darling boy !

Tonton !
Though a fathom 1 apart,

Tonton !
i

Sleeping separated,

By rolling we came together I

Tonton !
By slow approaches we came together,

Tonton !

My next group of selections consists of " local
songs" — by which term the collector means
songs peculiar to particular districts or prov
inces. They are old — though less old than
the compositions previously cited; — and their
interest is chiefly emotional. But several, it
will be observed, have curious refrains. Songs
of this sort are sung especially at the village-
dances — Bon-odori and Honen-odori : —

1 Lit., "biro." The biro is a measure of about five feet English, and
is used to measure breadth as well as depth.

168 Shadowings

LOVE-SONG

(Province of Ecbigo)

Hana ka? — chocho ka?
Chocho ka ? — hana ka ?

Don-don !

Kite wa chira-chira mayowaseru,
Kite wa chira-chira mayowaseru !

Taichokant !

Sokane don-don!

Flower is it ? — butterfly is it ?

Butterfly or flower ?

Don-don !

When you come thus flickering, I am deluded ! —
When you come thus twinkling, I am bewitched 1

Taichokane !
Sokane don-don !

LOVE-SONG

(Province of Kit, — village of Ogawa)

Koe wa suredomo
Sugata wa mienu —
Fuka-no no kirigirisu !

Though I hear the voice [of tie beloved}, the form I can
not see — a kirigirisu1 in the high grass.

1 The kirigirisu is a kind of grasshopper with a very musical note.
It is very difficult to see it, even when it is singing close by, for its
color is exactly the color of the grass. The song alludes to the happy
peasant custom of singing while at work in the fields.

Old Japanese Songs 169
LOVE-SONG

(Province of Mutsu, — district of Sugaru)

Washi no kokoro to
Oki kuru fune wa,
Raku ni misetemo,
Ku ga taenu.

My heart and a ship in the offing — either seems to
move with ease ; yet in both there is trouble enough.

LOVE-SONG

(Province ofSuwd, — village of Iseki)

Namida koboshite
Shinku wo kataru,
Kawairashi-sa ga

Mashimasuru !

As she tells me all the pain of her toil, shedding tears, —
ever her sweetness seems to increase.

LOVE-SONG

(Province of Suruga, village of Coteniba)

Hana ya, yoku kike !
Sho aru naraba,
Hito ga fusagu ni

Naze hiraku ?

O flower, hear me well if thou hast a soul ! When any
one sorrows as I am sorrowing, why dost thou bloom ?

170 Shadowings

OLD TOKYO SONG

lya-na o-kata no
Shinsetsu yori ka
Suita o-kata no

Muri ga yoi.

Better than the kindness of the disliked is the violence
of the beloved.

LOVE-SONG

(Province of Iwami)

Kawairashi-sa ya !
Hotaru no mushi wa
Shinobu nawate ni

Hi wo tomosu.

Ah, the darling ! . . . Ever as I steal along the ricefield-
path [to meet my lover}, the firefly kindles a light to show
me the way.

COMIC SONG

(Province of Sbinano)

Ano yam a kage de

Hikaru wa nanja ? —
Tsuki ka, hoshi ka, hotaru no mushi ka ?

Tsuki demo naiga ;

Hoshi demo naiga ; —
Shuto no o-uba no me ga hikaru, —

(Chorus) Me ga hikaru I

Old Japanese Songs 171

In the shadow of the mountain

What is it that shines so ?

Moon is it, or star? — or is it the firefly-insect?

Neither is it moon,

Nor yet star ; —

It is the old woman's Eye; — it is the Eye of my
mother-in-law that shines, —

(Chorus) It is her Eye tbat shines i
KAERI-ODORI1

(Province of Sanuki)

Oh! the cruelty, the cruelty of my mother-in-
law! —

(Chorus) Oh! the cruelty!

Even tells me to paint a picture on running

water !

If ever I paint a picture on running water,
You will count the stars in the night -sky !

Count the stars in the night-sky 1

— Come ! let us dance the Dance of the Honor
able Garden ! —

Chan-chan !
Cha-cha !
Yoitomose,
Yoitomose/

1 I am not sure of the real meaning of the name Kairi-Odori (lit
" turn-dance " or " return-dance ").

172 Shadowings

Who cuts the bamboo at the back of the
house ? —

(Chorus) Who cuts the bamboo ? —
My sweet lord's own bamboo, the first he

planted, —

The first he planted ?

— Come ! let us dance the Dance of the Honor

able Garden ! —

Chan-chan !
Cha-cha !
Yoitomose,
Yoitomose!

Oh ! the cruelty, the cruelty of my mother-in-
law! —

Oh ! the cruelty !

Tells me to cut and make a hakama1 out of

rock!

If ever I cut and sew a hakama of rock,
Then you will learn to twist the fine sand into

thread, —

Twist it into thread.

— Come ! let us dance the Dance of the Honor

able Garden ! —

1 A divided skirt of a peculiar form, worn formerly by men chiefly,
to-day-worn by female students also.

Old Japanese Songs 173

Chan-chan!
Cha-cba !
Yoitomose,
Yoitomose!
Chan-chan-chan !

OTERA-ODORI (TEMPLE-DANCE)

(Province of Iga, village called Uenomacbi)

Visiting the honorable temple, when I see the

august gate,
The august gate I find to be of silver, the panels

of gold.
Noble indeed is the gate of the honorable

temple, —

The honorable temple I

Visiting the honorable temple, when I see the

garden,
I see young pinetrees flourishing in the four

directions :
On the first little branch of one the sbijugara l

has made her nest, —

Has made her nest.

1 The Manchurian great tit. It is said to bring good fortune to the
._ owners of the garden in which it builds a nest, — providing that the
nest be not disturbed and that the brood be protected.

174 Shadowings

Visiting the honorable temple, when I see the

water-tank,

I see little flowers of many colors set all about it,
Each one having a different color of its own, —

A different color.

Visiting the honorable temple, when I see the

parlor-room,
I find many kinds of little birds gathered all

together,
Each one singing a different song of its own, —

A different song.

Visiting the honorable temple, when I see the

guest-room,

There I see the priest, with a lamp beside him,
Reading behind a folding-screen — oh, how ad
mirable it is ! —

How admirable it is !

Many kinds of popular songs — and especially
the class of songs sung at country- dances — are
composed after a mnemonic plan. The stanzas
are usually ten in number ; and the first syllable
of each should correspond in sound to the first
syllable of the numeral placed before the verse.

Old Japanese Songs

Sometimes Chinese numerals are used; some
times Japanese. But the rule is not always
perfectly observed. In the following example
it will be observed that the correspondence of
the first two syllables in the first verse with the
first two syllables of the Japanese word for one
(bitotsu) is a correspondence of meaning only ;
— ichi being the Chinese numeral : —

SONG OF FISHERMEN

(Province of Shimosa, — town of Cttosbi) l

Hitotsutose, —
Ichiban bune e tsumi-konde,
Kawaguchi oshikomu 6-yagoe.

Kono tai-ryo-bune !

Futatsutose, —

Futaba no oki kara Togawa made
Tsuzuite oshikomu 6-yagoe.

Kono tai-ryo-bune!

1 Choshi, a town of some importance, is situated at the mouth of the
Tonegawa. It is celebrated for its iwashi-fishery. The iwashi is a
fish about the size of the sardine, and is sought chiefly for the sake of
its oil. Immense quantities of twasbi are taken off the coast. They
are boiled to extract the oil ; and the dried residue is sent inland to
serve as manure.

176 Shadowings

Mitsutose, —

Mina ichido-ni maneki wo age,
Kayowase-bune no nigiyakasa

Kono tai-ryo-bune!
Yotsutose, —

Yoru-hiru taitemo taki-amaru,
San-bai itcho no 6-iwashi !

Kono tai-ryo-bune!
Itsutsutose, —

Itsu kite mitemo hoshika-ba ni
Akima sukima wa sarani nai.

Kono tai-ryo-bune!
Mutsutoye, —

Mutsu kara mutsu made kasu-wari ga
O-wari ko-wari de te ni oware.

Kono tai-ryo-bune!
Nanatsutose, —
Natakaki Tonegawa ichi-men ni
Kasu-ya abura wo tsumi-okuru

Kono tai-ryo-bune!
Yatsutose, —

Yatebune no okiai wakashu ga,
Ban-shuku soroete miya-mairi.

Kono tai-ryo-bune/

Old Japanese Songs 177

Kokonotsutose, —
Kono ura mamoru kawa-guchi no
Mydjin riyaku wo arawasuru.

Kono tai-ryo-bune !

Firstly (or " Number One "), —

The first ship, filled up with fish, squeezes her way
through the river-mouth, with a great shouting.1

O Ms ship of great fishing ! a

Secondly, —

From the offing of Futaba even to the Togawa,8 the
ships, fast following, press in, with a great shouting.

O this ship of great fishing !

Thirdly,—

When, all together, we hoist our signal-flags, see how
fast the cargo-boats come hurrying 1

O this ship of great fishing !

Fourthly, —

Night and day though the boiling be, there is still too
much to boil — oh, the heaps of iwashi from the three
ships together!

O this ship of great fishing !

1 0-yagoe. The chorus-cry or chant of sailors, pulling all together,
is called yagoe.

2 Tai-ry5 bune, lit. : — "great-fishing," or " great-catching-ship."
The adjective refers to the fishing, not to the ship. The real meaning
of the refrain is, " this-most-successful-in-fishing of ships."

* Perhaps the reference is to a village at the mouth of the river To
gawa, — not far from Choshi on the Tonegawa. The two rivers are
united by a canal. But the text leaves it uncertain whether river 01
village is meant.
12

178 Shadowings

Fif My, —

Whenever you go to look at the place where the dried
fish are kept,1 never do you find any room, — not even a
crevice.

O this slip of great fishing !

Sixthly,

From six to six o'clock is cleaning and washing : the
great cutting and the small cutting are more than can be
done.

O this ship of great fishing !

Seventhly, —

All up and down the famous river Tondgawa we send
our loads of oil and fertilizer.

O this ship of great fishing!

Eighthly,—

All the young folk, drawing the Yatai-bune? with ten
thousand rejoicings, visit the shrine of the God.

O this ship of great fishing !

Ninthly, —

Augustly protecting all this coast, the Deity of the river-
mouth shows to us his divine favor.

O this ship of great fishing !

1 Hosbika-ba : lit., " the hoshika-place " or " hoshika-room." " Ho-
shika " is the name given to dried fish prepared for use as fertilizer.

* Yatai is the name given to the ornamental cars drawn with ropes
In a religious procession. Yatai-buni here seems to mean either the
model of a boat mounted upon such a car, or a real boat so displayed
in a religious processsion. I have seen real boats mounted upon festi
val-cars in a religious procession at Mionoseki.

Old Japanese Songs 179

A stranger example of this mnemonic arrange-
ment is furnished by a children's song, composed
at least a hundred years ago. Little girls of
Yedo used to sing it while playing ball. You can
see the same ball-game being played by girls to
day, in almost any quiet street of Tokyo. The
ball is kept bounding in a nearly perpendicular
line by skilful taps of the hand delivered in time
to the measure of a song; and a good player
should be able to sing the song through without
missing a stroke. If she misses, she must yield
the ball to another player.1 There are many
pretty " ball -play songs ; " but this old-fashioned
and long-forgotten one is a moral curiosity : —

Hitotsu toy a : —

Hito wa ko na hito to iu ;
On wo shiraneba k5 naraji.

Futatsu toy a : —

Fuji yori takaki chichi no on ;
Tsune-ni omoute wasure-naji.

1 This is the more common form of the game; but
there are many other forms. Sometimes two girls play
at once with the same ball — striking it alternately as it
bounds.

180 Shadowings

Mitsu to ya : —

Mizu-umi kaette asashi to wa,
Haha no on zo ya omou-beshi.

Yotsu toy a : —

Yoshiya mazushiku kurasu tomo,
Sugu-naru michi wo maguru-moji.

Itsutsu toy a : —

Itsumo kokoro no kawaranu wo,
Makoto no hito to omou-beshi.

Mutsu toya: —

Munashiku tsukihi wo kurashi-naba,
Nochi no nageki to shirinu-beshi.

Nanatsu toya : —

Nasaki wa hito no tame narode,
Waga mi no tame to omou-beshi.

Yatsu toya: —

Yaku-nan muryo no wazawai mo
Kokoro zen nara nogaru-beshi.

Kokonotsu toya : —

Kokoro kotoba no sugu-naraba,
Kami ya Hotoke mo mamoru-beshi.

Old Japanese Songs 181

To toy a: —

Totoi hito to naru naraba,
Koko mono to iwaru-beshi.

This is the first : —
[Only] a person having filial piety is [worthy to be]

called a person : 1
If one does not know the goodness of parents, one has

not filial piety.

Tbe second: —
Higher than the [mountain] Fuji is the favor of a

father :
Think of it always ; — never forget it.

Tbe third: —
[Compared with a mother's love] the great lake is

shallow indeed !

[By this saying] the goodness of a mother should be
estimated.

Tbe fourth : —

Even though in poverty we have to pass our days,
Let us never turn aside from the one straight path.

Tbe fifth. •—

The person whose heart never changes with time,
A true man or woman that person must be deemed

1 Lit., " A person having filial piety is called a person." The word
bito (person), usually indicating either a man or a woman, is often used
In the signification of " people " or " Mankind." The full meaning of
the sentence is that no unfilial person deserves to be called a human
being.

182 Shadowings

The sixth : —

If the time [of the present] be spent in vain,
In the time of the future must sorrow be borne.

The seventh : —

That a kindness done is not for the sake of others

only,
But also for one's own sake, should well be kept in

mind.

The eighth : —

Even the sorrow of numberless misfortunes
We shall easily escape if the heart be pure.

The ninth : —

If the heart and the speech be kept straight and true,
The Gods and the Buddhas will surely guard us well.

The tenth : —

In order to become a person held in honor,
As a filial person one must [first] be known.

The reader may think to himself, " How terri
bly exigent the training that could require the
repetition of moral lessons even in a 'ball -play
song ' ! " True, — but it produced perhaps the
very sweetest type of woman that this world has
ever known.

In some dance-songs the burthen is made by
the mere repetition of the last line, or of part
of the last line, of each stanza. The follow-

Old Japanese Songs 183

ing queer ballad exemplifies the practice, and is
furthermore remarkable by reason of the curious
onomatopoetic choruses introduced at certain
passages of the recitative: —

KANE-MAKI-ODORI UTA

('"Bell-wrapping-dance song." — Province of Iga — Naga district)

A Yamabushi of Kyoto went to Kumano. There resting
in the inn Chojaya, by the beach of Shirotaka, he saw a
little girl three years old ; and he petted and hugged her,
playfully promising to make her his wife, —

(Chorus) Playfully promising.

Thereafter that Yamabushi travelled in various provinces ;
returning only when that girl was thirteen years old. " O
my princess, my princess ! " he cried to her, — " my little
princess, pledged to me by promise!" — "O Sir Yama
bushi," made she answer, — " good Sir Yamabushi, take me

with you now ! —

" Take me witbyou now ! "

"0 soon," he said, "I shall come again; soon I shall
come again : then, when I come again, I shall take you with
me, —

" Take yon with me."

Therewith the Yamabushi, escaping from her, quickly,
quickly fled away ; — with all haste he fled away. Having
passed through Tanabe' and passed through Minabe', he fled
on over the Komatsu moor, —

Over the Komatsu moor.

184 Shadowings

KAKKARA, KAKKARA, KAKKARA, KAKKA!*

Therewith the damsel, pursuing, quickly, quickly fol
lowed after him ; — with all speed she followed after him.
Having passed through Tanab£ and passed through Minabe",
she pursued him over the Komatsu moor, —

Over the Komatsu moor.

Then the Yamabushi, fleeing, came as he fled to the river
of Amoda, and cried to the boatman of the river of Amoda,
— " O good boatman, good sir boatman, behind me comes
a maid pursuing ! — pray do not take her across, good
boatman, —

" Good sir boatman ! "

DEBOKU, DEBOKU, DEBOKU, DEN DEN !*

Then the damsel, pursuing, came to the river of Amoda
and called to the boatman, " Bring hither the boat ! — take
me over in the boat ! " — " No, I will not bring the boat ; I
will not take you over : my boat is forbidden to carry

women ! —

" Forbidden to carry women !

" If you do not take me over, I will cross ! — if you do
not take me over, I will cross ! — there is a way to cross
the river of Amoda ! " Taking off her sandals and holding
them aloft, she entered the water, and at once turned into a
dragon with twelve horns fully grown, —
_. Witb twelve horns fully grown.

1 These syllables, forming a sort of special chorus, are simply
onomatopes ; intended to represent the sound of sandalled feet running
at utmost speed.

* These onomatopes, chanted by all the dancers together in chorus,
with appropriate gesture, represent the sound of the ferryman's single
oar, or scull, working upon its wooden peg. The syllables have no
meaning in themselves.

Old Japanese Songs 185;

Then the Yamabushi, fleeing, reached the temple Dojoji,
and cried to the priests of the temple Dojoji : — " O good
priests, behind me a damsel comes pursuing ! — hide me, I
beseech you, good sir priests ! —

"Good sir priests!"

Then the priests, after holding consultation, took down
from its place the big bell of the temple ; and under it they
hid him, —

Under it tbey bid him.

Then the dragon-maid, pursuing, followed him to the
temple Dojoji. For a moment she stood in the gate of the
temple: she saw that bell, and viewed it with suspicion.
She thought : — "I must wrap myself about it once." She
thought: — "I must wrap myself about it twice!" At
the third wrapping, the bell was melted, and began to flow
like boiling water, —

Like boiling water.

So is told the story of the Wrapping of the Bell. Many
damsels dwell by the seashore of Japan ; — but who among
them, like the daughter of the Choja, will become a
dragon ? —

Become a dragon ?

This is all the Song of the Wrapping of the Bell ! — this
is all the Song, —

4 II the song!1

1 This legend forms the subject of several Japanese dramas, both
ancient and modern. The original story is that a Buddhist priest, called
Anchin, having rashly excited the affection of a maiden named Kiyohime,
and being, by reason of his vows, unable to wed her, sought safety
from her advances in flight. Kiyohime, by the violence of her frus
trated passion, therewith became transformed into a fiery dragon ; and
In that shape she pursued the priest to the temple called Dojoji, in

186 Shadowings

I shall give only one specimen of the true
street -ballad, — the kind of ballad commonly
sung by wandering samisen-players. It is written
in an irregular measure, varying from twelve to
sixteen syllables in length ; the greater number
of lines having thirteen syllables. I do not know
the date of its composition ; but I am told by aged
persons who remember hearing it sung when
they were children, that it was popular in the
period of Tenpo (1830-1843) . It is not divided
into stanzas; but there are pauses at irregular
intervals, — marked by the refrain, Yanrei!

O-KICHI-SEIZA KUDOKI

("The Ditty of O-Kicbi and Sei^a ")

Now hear the pitiful story of two that died for love. —
In Kyoto was the thread-shop of Yogmon, a merchant

Kumano (modern Kishu), where he tried to hide himself under the great
temple-bell. But the dragon coiled herself round the bell, which at
once became red-hot, so that the body of the priest was totally con
sumed.

In this rude ballad Kiyohime figures only as the daughter of an inn
keeper, — the Choja, or rich man of his village ; while the priest Anchin
is changed into a Yamabushi. The Yamabushi are, or at least were,
wandering priests of the strange sect called Shugendo, — itinerant
exorcists and diviners, professing both Shinto and Buddhism. Of late
years their practices have been prohibited by law ; and a real Yama
bushi is now seldom to be met with.

The temple Dojoji is still a famous place of pilgrimage. It is situated
not far from Gobo, on the western coast of Kishu. The incident of
Anchin and the dragon is said to have occurred in the early part of the
tenth century.

Old Japanese Songs 187

known far and near, — a man of much wealth. His busi
ness prospered ; his life was fortunate. One daughter he
had, an only child, by name O-Kichi : at sixteen years she
was lovely as a flower. Also he had a clerk in his house,
by name Seiza, just in the prime of youth, aged twenty-
and-two.

Yanrei !

Now the young man Seiza was handsome ; and O-Kichl
fell in love with him at sight. And the two were so often
together that their secret affection became known ; and the
matter came to the ears of the parents of O-Kichi ; and
the parents, hearing of it, felt that such a thing could not
be suffered to continue.

Yanrei !

So at last, the mother, having called O-Kichi into a private
room, thus spoke to her : — " O my daughter, I hear that
you have formed a secret relation with the young man
Seiza, of our shop. Are you willing to end that relation at
once, and not to think any more about that man, O-Kichi ?
— answer me, O my daughter."

Yanrei !

"0 my dear mother," answered O-Kichi, "what is this
that you ask me to do ? The closeness of the relation be
tween Seiza and me is the closeness of the relation of the
ink to the paper that it penetrates.1 Therefore, whatever
may happen, O mother of mine, to separate from Seiza is
more than I can bear."

Yanrei !

1 Lit. :— "that affinity as-for, ink-and-paper-soaked-like affinity."

188 Shadowings

Then, the father, having called Seiza to the innermost
private room, thus spoke to him: — "I called you here
only to tell you this: You have turned the mind of our
daughter away from what is right ; and even to hear of
such a matter is not to be borne. Pack up your things at
once, and go ! — to-day is the utmost limit of the time that
you remain in this house."

Yanrei !

Now Seiza was a native of Osaka. Without saying
more than " Yes — yes," he obeyed and went away, return
ing to his home. There he remained four or five days,
thinking only of 0-Kichi. And because of his longing for
her, he fell sick ; and as there was no cure and no hope for
him, he died.

Yanrei !

Then one night 0-Kichi, in a moment of sleep, saw the
face of Seiza close to her pillow, — so plainly that she could
not tell whether it was real, or only a dream. And rising
up, she looked about ; but the form of Seiza had vanished.

Yanrei!

Because of this she made up her mind to go at once to
the house of Seiza. And, without being seen by any one,
she fled from the home of her parents.

Yanrei !

When she came to the ferry at the next village, she did
not take the boat, but went round by another road ; and
making all haste she found her way to the city of Osaka.
There she asked for the house of Seiza ; and she learned
that it was in a certain street, the third house from a
certain bridge.

Yanrei !

Old Japanese Songs 189

Arriving at last before the home of Seiza, she took off
her travelling hat of straw ; and seating herself on the
threshold of the entrance, she cried out: — "Pardon me
kindly ! — is not this the house of Master Seiza?"

Yanrei I

Then — 0 the pity of it ! — she saw the mother of Seiza,
weeping bitterly, and holding in her hand a Buddhist ros
ary. "O my good young lady," the mother of Seiza
asked, " whence have you come ; and whom do you want
to see?"

Yanrei !

And O-Kichi said : — " I am the daughter of the thread-
merchant of Kyoto. And I have come all the way here only
because of the relation that has long existed between Mas
ter Seiza and myself. Therefore, I pray you, kindly permit
me to see him."

Yanrei!

" Alas ! " made answer the mother, weeping, " Seiza,
whom you have come so far to see, is dead. To-day is
the seventh day from the day on which he died." . . . Hear
ing these words, O-Kichi herself could only shed tears.

Yanrei!

But after a little while she took her way to the cemetery.
And there she found the sotoba l erected above the grave
of Seiza; and leaning upon it, she wept aloud.

Yanrei !

1 A wooden lath, bearing- Buddhist texts.'planted above graves. For
a full account of the sotoba see my Exotics and Retrospectives : " Th8
Literature of the Dead."

190 Shadowings

Then — how fearful a thing is the longing of a person 1
— the grave of Seiza split asunder; and the form of Seiza
rose up therefrom and spoke.

Yanrei !

" Ah ! is not this 0-Kichi that has come ? Kind indeed
it was to have come to me from so far away ! My 0-Kichi,
do not weep thus. Never again — even though you weep
— can we be united in this world. But as you love me
truly, I pray you to set some fragrant flowers before my
tomb, and to have a Buddhist service said for me upon the
anniversary of my death."

Yanrei !

And with these words the form of Seiza vanished. " 0
wait, wait for me ! " cried 0-Kichi, — " wait one little mo
ment ! 2 I cannot let you return alone ! — I shall go with

you in a little time ! "

Yanrei !

1 In the original : — Hito no omoi wa osoroshi mono yo ! — (" how
fearful a thing is the thinking of a person ! "). The word omoi, used
here in the sense of " longing," refers to the weird power of Seiza's
dying wish to see his sweetheart. Even after his burial, this longing
has the strength to burst open the tomb.

— In the old English ballad of " William and Marjorie " (see Child :
vol. ii. p. 151) there is also a remarkable fancy about the opening and
closing of a grave : — ^

She followed him high, she followed him low,

Till she came to yon churchyard green ;
And there the deep grave opened up,
And young William he lay down.

* With this episode compare the close of the English ballad " Sweet
William's Ghost " (Child : vol. ii., page 148) : —

" O stay, my only true love, stay !/'

The constant Margaret cried :
Wan grew her cheeks ; she closed her een,
Stretched her soft limbs, and died.

Old Japanese Songs 191

Then quickly she went beyond the temple-gate to a moat
some four or fwecbo1 distant ; and having filled her sleeves
with small stones, into the deep water she cast her forlorn
body.

Yanrei !

And now I shall terminate this brief excursion
into unfamiliar song-fields by the citation of two
Buddhist pieces. The first is from the famous
work Gempei Seisuiki (" Account of the Pros
perity and Decline of the Houses of Gen and
Hei ") , probably composed during the latter part
of the twelfth, or at the beginning of the thir
teenth century. It is written in the measure
called Imayo, — that is to say, in short lines alter
nately of seven and of five syllables (7, 5 ; 7, 5 ;
7, 5, ad libitum) . The other philosophical com
position is from a collection of songs called
RyutacU-busU (" Ryutachi Airs")> belonging
to the sixteenth century : —

I

(Measure, Imaj>5)

Sama mo kokoro mo
Kawaru kana !
Otsuru namida wa

1 A ebb is about one fifteenth of a mile.

192 Shadow! ngs

Taki no mizu :
Myo-ho-renge no
Ike to nari ;
Guze no f une ni
Sao sashite ;
Shizumu waga mi wo
Nose-tamae !

Both form and mind —

Lo ! how these change !

The falling of tears

Is like the water of a cataract

Let them become the Pool

Of the Lotos of the Good Law !

Poling thereupon

The Boat of Salvation,

Vouchsafe that my sinking

Body may ride !

II

(Period of Bunrokff— 1 592-1 596)

Who twice shall live his youth ?

What flower faded blooms again ?

Fugitive as dew

Is the form regretted,

Seen only

In a moment of dream.

FANTASIES

. . . Vainly does each, as he glides,
Fable and dream

Of the lands which the River of Time
Had left ere he woke on its breast,
Or shall reach when his eyes have
been closed.

MATTHEW ARNOLD

13

Noctilucae

9

Noctilucae

THE moon had not yet risen ; but the vast of
the night was all seething with stars, and
bridged by a Milky Way of extraordinary
brightness. There was no wind; but the sea,
far as sight could reach, was running in ripples
of fire, — a vision of infernal beauty. Only the
ripplings were radiant (between them was black
ness absolute) ; — and the luminosity was amaz
ing. Most of the undulations were yellow like
candle -flame ; but there were crimson lampings
also, — and azure, and orange, and emerald.
And the sinuous flickering of all seemed, not a
pulsing of many waters, but a laboring of many
wills, — a fleeting conscious and monstrous, —
a writhing and a swarming incalculable, as of
dragon-life in some depth of Erebus.

And life indeed was making the sinister splen
dor of that spectacle — but life infinitesimal,
197

198 Shadowings

and of ghostliest delicacy, — life illimitable, yet
ephemeral, flaming" and fading in ceaseless alter
nation over the whole round of waters even to
the sky-line, above which, in the vaster abyss,
other countless lights were throbbing with other
spectral colors.

Watching, I wondered and I dreamed. I
thought of the Ultimate Ghost revealed in that
scintillation tremendous of Night and Sea; —
quickening above me, in systems aglow with
awful fusion of the past dissolved, with vapor
of the life again to be; — quickening also be
neath me, in meteor-gushings and constellations
and nebulosities of colder fire, — till 1 found my
self doubting whether the million ages of the sun-
star could really signify, in the flux of perpetual
dissolution, anything more than the momentary
sparkle of one expiring noctiluca.

Even with the doubt, the vision changed. I
saw no longer the sea of the ancient East, with
its shudderings of fire, but that Flood whose
width and depth and altitude are one with the
Night of Eternity, — the shoreless and timeless
Sea of Death and Birth. And the luminous
haze of a hundred millions of suns, — the Arch

Noctilucae 199

of the Milky Way, — was a single smouldering
surge in the flow of the Infinite Tides.

Yet again there came a change. I saw no
more that vapory surge of suns; but the living
darkness streamed and thrilled about me with
infinite sparkling; and every sparkle was beat
ing like a heart, — beating out colors like the
tints of the sea-fires. And the lampings of all
continually flowed away, as shivering threads
<of radiance, into illimitable Mystery. . . .

Then I knew myself also a phosphor-point, —
one fugitive floating sparkle of the measure
less current; — and I saw that the light which
was mine shifted tint with each changing of
thought. Ruby it sometimes shone, and some
times sapphire: now it was flame of topaz;
again, it was fire of emerald. And the mean
ing of the changes I could not fully know. But
thoughts of the earthly life seemed to make the
light burn red ; while thoughts of supernal being,
— of ghostly beauty and of ghostly bliss, —
seemed to kindle ineffable rhythms of azure and
of violet.

But of white lights there were none in all the
Visible. And I marvelled.

200 Shadowings

Then a Voice said to me : —

"The White are of the Altitudes. By the
blending of the billions they are made. Thy
part is to help to their kindling. Even as the
color of thy burning, so is the worth of thee.
For a moment only is thy quickening; yet the
light of thy pulsing lives on: by thy thought,
in that shining moment, thou becomest a Maker
of Gods."

A Mystery of Crowds

A Mystery of Crowds

*

WHO has not at some time leaned over
the parapet of a bridge to watch the
wrinklings and dimplings of the cur
rent below, — to wonder at the trembling per
manency of surf ace -shapes that never change,
though the substance of them is never for two
successive moments the same ? The mystery of
the spectacle fascinates ; and it is worth thinking
about. Symbols of the riddle of our own being
are those shuddering forms. In ourselves like
wise the substance perpetually changes with the
flow of the Infinite Stream; but the shapes,
though ever agitated by various inter-opposing
forces, remain throughout the years.

And who has not been fascinated also by the

sight of the human stream that pours and pulses

through the streets of some great metropolis?

This, too, has its currents and counter-currents

203

204 Shadowings

and eddyings, — all strengthening or weakening
according to the tide-rise or tide-ebb of the city's
sea of toil. But the attraction of the greater
spectacle for us is not really the mystery of
motion: it is rather the mystery of man. As
outside observers we are interested chiefly by
the passing forms and faces, — by their intima
tions of personality, their suggestions of sym
pathy or repulsion. We soon cease to think
about the general flow. For the atoms of the
human current are visible to our gaze: we see
them walk, and deem their movements suffi
ciently explained by our own experience of
walking. And, nevertheless, the motions of the
visible individual are more mysterious than those
of the always invisible molecule of water. — I
am not forgetting the truth that all forms of
motion are ultimately incomprehensible: I am
referring only to the fact that our common rela
tive knowledge of motions, which are supposed
to depend upon will, is even less than our pos
sible relative knowledge of the behavior of the
atoms of a water-current.

Every one who has lived in a great city is
aware of certain laws of movement which regu-

A Mystery of Crowds 20">

late the flow of population through the more
crowded thoroughfares. (We need not for pres
ent purposes concern ourselves about the com
plex middle-currents of the living river, with
their thunder of hoofs and wheels : I shall speak
of the side-currents only.) On either footpath
the crowd naturally divides itself into an upward
and a downward stream. All persons going in
one direction take the right-hand side ; all going
in the other direction take the left-hand side.
By moving with either one of these two streams
you can proceed even quickly; but you cannot
walk against it : only a drunken or insane per
son is likely to attempt such a thing. Between
the two currents there is going on, by reason
of the pressure, a continual self-displacement
of individuals to left and right, alternately, —
such a yielding and swerving as might be repre
sented, in a drawing of the double-current, by
zigzag medial lines ascending and descending.
This constant yielding alone makes progress
possible: without it the contrary streams would
quickly bring each other to a standstill by lateral
pressure. But it is especially where two crowd-
streams intersect each other, as at street-angles,
that this systematic self-displacement is worthy

206 Shado wings

of study. Everybody observes the phenome
non; but few persons think about it. Who
ever really thinks about it will discover that
there is a mystery in it, — a mystery which no
individual experience can fully explain.

In any thronged street of a great metropolis
thousands of people are constantly turning aside
to left or right in order to pass each other.
Whenever two persons walking in contrary direc
tions come face to face in such a press, one of
three things is likely to happen : — Either there
is a mutual yielding, — or one makes room for
the other, — or else both, in their endeavor to
be accommodating, step at once in the same
direction, and as quickly repeat the blunder by
trying to correct it, and so keep dancing to and
fro in each other's way, — until the first to per
ceive the absurdity of the situation stands still,
or until the more irritable actually pushes his
vis-a-vis to one side. But these blunders are
relatively infrequent': all necessary yielding, as
a rule, is done quickly and correctly.

Of course there must be some general law
regulating all this self -displacement, — some law
in accord with the universal law of motion in

A Mystery of Crowds 207

the direction of least resistance. You have only
to watch any crowded street for half an hour to
be convinced of this. But the law is not easily
found or formulated: there are puzzles in the
phenomenon.

If you study the crowd-movement closely, you
will perceive that those encounters in which one
person yields to make way for the other are
much less common than those in which both
parties give way. But a little reflection will con
vince you that, even in cases of mutual yielding,
one person must of necessity yield sooner than
the other, — though the difference in time of
the impulse-manifestation should be — as it often
is — altogether inappreciable. For the sum of
character, physical and psychical, cannot be pre
cisely the same in two human beings. No two
persons can have exactly equal faculties of per
ception and will, nor exactly similar qualities of
that experience which expresses itself in mental
and physical activities. And therefore in every
case of apparent mutual yielding, the yielding
must really be successive, not simultaneous.
Now although what we might here call the
" personal equation " proves that in every case of

208 Shadowings

mutual yielding one individual necessarily yields
sooner than the other, it does not at all explain
the mystery of the individual impulse in cases
where the yielding is not mutual ; — it does not
explain why you feel at one time that you are
about to make your vis-d-vis give place, and
feel at another time that you must yourself give
place. What originates the feeling ?

A friend once attempted to answer this ques
tion by the ingenious theory of a sort of eye-
duel between every two persons coming face to
face in a street -throng ; but I feel sure that his
theory could account for the psychological facts
in scarcely half-a-dozen of a thousand such en
counters. The greater number of people hurry
ing by each other in a dense press rarely observe
faces: only the disinterested idler has time for
that. Hundreds actually pass along the street
with their eyes fixed upon the pavement. Cer
tainly it is not the man in a hurry who can
guide himself by ocular snap-shot views of
physiognomy; — he is usually absorbed in his
own thoughts. ... I have studied my own case
repeatedly. While in a crowd I seldom look at
faces; but without any conscious observation I
am always able to tell when 1 should give way,

A Mystery of Crowds 209

or when my vis-d-vis is going to save me that
trouble. My knowledge is certainly intuitive —
a mere knowledge of feeling; and I know not
with what to compare it except that blind faculty
by which, in absolute darkness, one becomes
aware of the proximity of bulky objects with
out touching them. And my intuition is almost
infallible. If I hesitate to obey it, a collision is
the invariable consequence.

Furthermore, 1 find that whenever automatic,
or at least semi-conscious, action is replaced by
reasoned action — in plainer words, whenever I
begin to think about my movements — I always
blunder. It is only while I am thinking of other
matters, — only while I am acting almost auto
matically, — that I can thread a dense crowd
with ease. Indeed, my personal experience has
convinced me that what pilots one quickly and
safely through a thick press is not conscious
observation at all, but unreasoning, intuitive
perception. Now intuitive action of any kind
represents inherited knowledge, the experience
of past lives, — in this case the experience of
past lives incalculable.

Utterly incalculable. . . . Why do I think so ?
Well, simply because this faculty of intuitive

14

210 Shadowings

self-direction in a crowd is shared by man with
very inferior forms of animal being, — evolu
tional proof that it must be a faculty im
mensely older than man. Does not a herd of
cattle, a herd of deer, a flock of sheep, offer us
the same phenomenon of mutual yielding ? Or
a flock of birds — gregarious birds especially :
crows, sparrows, wild pigeons? Or a shoal of
fish ? Even among insects — bees, ants, termites

— we can study the same law of intuitive self-
displacement. The yielding, in all these cases,
must still represent an inherited experience un
imaginably old. Could we endeavor to retrace
the whole course of such inheritance, the attempt
would probably lead us back, not only to the
very beginnings of sentient life upon this planet,
but further, — back into the history of non-sen
tient substance, — back even to the primal evolu
tion of those mysterious tendencies which are
stored up in the atoms of elements. Such atoms
we know of only as points of multiple resistance,

— incomprehensible knittings of incomprehensi
ble forces. Even the tendencies of atoms doubt
less represent accumulations of inheritance

but here thought checks with a shock at the
eternal barrier of the Infinite Riddle.

Gothic Horror
9

Gothic Horror

*

i

LONG before I had arrived at what cate
chisms call the age of reason, I was fre
quently taken, much against my will, to
church. The church was very old; and I can
see the interior of it at this moment just as plainly
as I saw it forty years ago, when it appeared to
me like an evil dream. There I first learned to
know the peculiar horror that certain forms of
Gothic architecture can inspire. ... I am using
the word " horror " in a classic sense, — in its
antique meaning of ghostly fear.

On the very first day of this experience, my
child-fancy could place the source of the horror.
The wizened and pointed shapes of the windows
immediately terrified me. In their outline I found
the form of apparitions that tormented me in
213

214 Shadowings

sleep; — and at once I began to imagine some
dreadful affinity between goblins and Gothic
churches. Presently, in the tall doorways, in the
archings of the aisles, in the ribbings and groin-
ings of the roof, I discovered other and wilder
suggestions of fear. Even the fagade of the
organ, — peaking high into the shadow above its
gallery, — seemed to me a frightful thing. . . .
Had 1 been then suddenly obliged to answer the
question, " What are you afraid of ? " I should
have whispered, " Those points ! " I could not
have otherwise explained the matter: I only
knew that I was afraid of the "points."

Of course the real enigma of what I felt in
that church could not present itself to my mind
while I continued to believe in goblins. But long
after the age of superstitious terrors, other Gothic
experiences severally revived the childish emotion
in so startling a way as to convince me that
childish fancy could not account for the feeling.
Then my curiosity was aroused ; and I tried to
discover some rational cause for the horror. I
read many books, and asked many questions;
but the mystery seemed only to deepen.

Books about architecture were very disappoint
ing. I was much less impressed by what I could

Gothic Horror 21 £

find in them than by references in pure fiction to
the awfulness of Gothic art, — particularly by
one writer's confession that the interior of a
Gothic church, seen at night, gave him the idea
of being inside the skeleton of some monstrous
animal ; and by a far-famed comparison of the
windows of a cathedral to eyes, and of its door
to a great mouth, " devouring the people."
These imaginations explained little; they could
not be developed beyond the phase of vague
intimation: yet they stirred such emotional
response that I felt sure they had touched some
truth. Certainly the architecture of a Gothic
cathedral offers strange resemblances to the archi
tecture of bone ; and the general impression that
it makes upon the mind is an impression of life.
But this impression or sense of life I found to be
indefinable, — not a sense of any life organic,
but of a life latent and daemonic. And the mani
festation of that life I felt to be in the pointing of
the structure.

Attempts to interpret the emotion by effects of
altitude and gloom and vastness appeared to me
of no worth ; for buildings loftier and larger and
darker than any Gothic cathedral, but of a dif
ferent order of architecture, — Egyptian, for

216 Shadowings

instance, — could not produce a like impression.
I felt certain that the horror was made by some
thing altogether peculiar to Gothic construction,
and that this something haunted the tops of the
arches.

" Yes, Gothic architecture is awful," said a
religious friend, " because it is the visible expres
sion of Christian faith. No other religious
architecture symbolizes spiritual longing; but
the Gothic embodies it. Every part climbs or
leaps ; every supreme detail soars and points like
fire. . . ." " There may be considerable truth in
what you say," I replied ; — " but it does not relate
to the riddle that baffles me. Why should shapes
that symbolize spiritual longing create horror?
Why should any expression of Christian ecstasy
inspire alarm ? . . ."

Other hypotheses in multitude I tested without
avail ; and I returned to the simple and savage
conviction that the secret of the horror somehow
belonged to the points of the archings. But for
years I could not find it. At last, at last, in the
early hours of a certain tropical morning, it
revealed itself quite unexpectedly, while I was
looking at a glorious group of palms.

Gothic Horror 217

Then I wondered at my stupidity in not having
guessed the riddle before.

n

THE characteristics of many kinds of palm have
been made familiar by pictures and photographs.
But the giant palms of the American tropics can
not be adequately represented by the modern
methods of pictorial illustration: they must be
seen. You cannot draw or photograph a palm
two hundred feet high.

The first sight of a group of such forms, in
their natural environment of tropical forest, is a
magnificent surprise, — a surprise that strikes you
dumb. Nothing seen in temperate zones, — not
even the huger growths of the Californian slope,
— could have prepared your imagination for the
weird solemnity of that mighty colonnade. Each
stone-grey trunk is a perfect pillar, — but a pillar
of which the stupendous grace has no counterpart
in the works of man. You must strain your
head well back to follow the soaring of the pro
digious column, up, up, up through abysses of
green twilight, till at last — far beyond a break in
that infinite interweaving of limbs and lianas

218 Shadowings

which is the roof of the forest — you catch one
dizzy glimpse of the capital : a parasol of emerald
feathers outspread in a sky so blinding as to sug
gest the notion of azure electricity.

Now what is the emotion that such a vision
excites, — an emotion too powerful to be called
wonder, too weird to be called delight? Only
when the first shock of it has passed, — when the
several elements that were combined in it have
begun to set in motion widely different groups of
ideas, — can you comprehend how very complex
it must have been. Many impressions belonging
to personal experience were doubtless revived in
it, but also with them a multitude of sensations
more shadowy, — accumulations of organic mem
ory ; possibly even vague feelings older than man,
— for the tropical shapes that aroused the emotion
have a history more ancient than our race.

One of the first elements of the emotion to
become clearly distinguishable is the aesthetic;
and this, in its general mass, might be termed the
sense of terrible beauty. Certainly the spectacle
of that unfamiliar life, — silent, tremendous,
springing to the sun in colossal aspiration, striv
ing for light against Titans, and heedless of man

Gothic Horror 219

in the gloom beneath as of a groping beetle, —
thrills like the rhythm of some single marvellous
verse that is learned in a glance and remembered
forever. Yet the delight, even at its vividest, is
shadowed by a queer disquiet. The aspect of
that monstrous, pale, naked, smooth-stretching
column suggests a life as conscious as the ser
pent's. You stare at the towering lines of the
shape, — vaguely fearing to discern some sign of
stealthy movement, some beginning of undula
tion. Then sight and reason combine to correct
the suspicion. Yes, motion is there, and life
enormous — but a life seeking only sun, — life,
rushing like the jet of a geyser, straight to the
giant day.

Ill

DURING my own experience I could perceive
that certain feelings commingled in the wave of
delight, — feelings related to ideas of power and
splendor and triumph, — were accompanied by a
faint sense of religious awe. Perhaps our modern
aesthetic sentiments are so interwoven with vari
ous inherited elements of religious emotionalism
that the recognition of beauty cannot arise inde-

220 Shadowings

pendently of reverential feeling. Be this as it
may, such a feeling defined itself while I gazed ;
— and at once the great grey trunks were changed
to the pillars of a mighty aisle ; and from altitudes
of dream there suddenly descended upon me the
old dark thrill of Gothic horror.

Even before it died away, I recognized that it
must have been due to some old cathedral-
memory revived by the vision of those giant
trunks uprising into gloom. But neither the
height nor the gloom could account for anything
beyond the memory. Columns tall as those
palms, but supporting a classic entablature, could
evoke no sense of disquiet resembling the Gothic
horror. I felt sure of this, — because I was able,
without any difficulty, to shape immediately the
imagination of such a facade. But presently the
mental picture distorted. I saw the architrave
elbow upward in each of the spaces between the
pillars, and curve and point itself into a range of
prodigious arches ; — and again the sombre thrill
descended upon me. Simultaneously there flashed
to me the solution of the mystery. I understood
that the Gothic horror was a horror of monstrous
motion, — and that it had seemed to belong to
the points of the arches because the idea of such

Gothic Horror 221

motion was chiefly suggested by the extraordi
nary angle at which the curves of the arching
touched.

To any experienced eye, the curves of Gothic
arching offer a striking resemblance to certain
curves of vegetal growth; — the curves of the
palm-branch being, perhaps, especially suggested.
But observe that the architectural form suggests
more than any vegetal comparison could illus
trate! The meeting of two palm -crests would
indeed form a kind of Gothic arch; yet the
effect of so short an arch would be insignificant.
For nature to repeat the strange impression of
the real Gothic arch, it were necessary that the
branches of the touching crests should vastly
exceed, both in length of curve and strength of
spring, anything of their kind existing in the
vegetable world. The effect of the Gothic arch
depends altogether upon the intimation of energy.
An arch formed by the intersection of two short
sprouting lines could suggest only a feeble power
of growth; but the lines of the tall mediaeval
arch seem to express a crescent force immensely
surpassing that of nature. And the horror of
Gothic architecture is not in the mere suggestion

222 Shadowings

of a growing life, , but in the suggestion of an
energy supernatural and tremendous.

Of course the child, oppressed by the strange
ness of Gothic forms, is yet incapable of analyzing
the impression received : he is frightened without
comprehending. He cannot divine that the points
and the curves are terrible to him because they rep
resent the prodigious exaggeration of a real law of
vegetal growth. He dreads the shapes because
they seem alive ; yet he does not know how to
express this dread. Without suspecting why, he
feels that this silent manifestation of power,
everywhere pointing and piercing upward, is not
natural. To his startled imagination, the build
ing stretches itself like a phantasm of sleep, —
makes itself tall and taller with intent to frighten.
Even though built by hands of men, it has ceased
to be a mass of dead stone: it is infused with
Something that thinks and threatens; — it has
become a shadowing malevolence, a multiple
goblinry, a monstrous fetish !

Levitation

9

Levitation

OUT of some upper-story window I was
looking into a street of yellow-tinted
houses, — a colonial street, old-fashioned,
narrow, with palm-heads showing above its
roofs of tile. There were no shadows ; there
was no sun, — only a grey soft light, as of early
gloaming.

Suddenly I found myself falling from the win
dow ; and my heart gave one sickening leap of
terror. But the distance from window to pave
ment proved to be much greater than I supposed,
— so great that, in spite of my fear, I began to
wonder. Still I kept falling, falling, — and still
the dreaded shock did not come. Then the fear
ceased, and a queer pleasure took its place ; —
for I discovered that 1 was not falling quickly,
but only floating down. Moreover, I was float
ing feet foremost — must have turned in descend-
15 225

226 Shadowings

ing. At last I touched the stones — but very,
very lightly, with only one foot ; and instantly
at that touch I went up again, — rose to the
level of the eaves. People stopped to stare at
me. I felt the exultation of power superhuman ;
— I felt for the moment as a god.

Then softly I began to sink ; and the sight of
faces, gathering below me, prompted a sudden
resolve to fly down the street, over the heads of
the gazers. Again like a bubble I rose, and, with
the same impulse, I sailed in one grand curve to a
distance that astounded me. 1 felt no wind ; —
I felt nothing but the joy of motion triumphant.
Once more touching pavement, I soared at a
bound for a thousand yards. Then, reaching
the end of the street, I wheeled and came back
by great swoops, — by long slow aerial leaps of
surprising altitude. In the street there was dead
silence : many people were looking ; but nobody
spoke. I wondered what they thought of my
feat, and what they would say if they knew
how easily the thing was done. By the merest
chance I had found out how to do it; and the
only reason why it seemed a feat was that no
one else had ever attempted it. Instinctively I
felt that to say anything about the accident, which

Levitation 227

had led to the discovery, would be imprudent.
Then the real meaning of the strange hush in
the street began to dawn upon me. I said to
myself : —

" This silence is the Silence of Dreams ; — I am
quite well aware that this is a dream. I remem
ber having dreamed the same dream before. But
the discovery of this power is not a dream : // is
a revelation! . . . Now that I have learned
how to fly, I can no more forget it than a swim
mer can forget how to swim. To-morrow morn
ing I shall astonish the people, by sailing over the
roofs of the town."

Morning came ; and I woke with the fixed re
solve to fly out of the window. But no sooner
had I risen from bed than the knowledge of phys
ical relations returned, like a sensation forgotten,
and compelled me to recognize the unwelcome
truth that I had not made any discovery at all.

This was neither the first nor the last of such
dreams ; but it was particularly vivid, and I there
fore selected it for narration as a good example
of its class. I still fly occasionally, — sometimes
over fields and streams, — sometimes through
familiar streets; and the dream is invariably

228 Shadowings

accompanied by remembrance of like dreams
in the past, as well as by the conviction that 1
have really found out a secret, really acquired a
new faculty. " This time, at all events," I say
to myself, "it is impossible that I can be mis
taken ; — I know that I shall be able to fly after
I awake. Many times before, in other dreams, I
learned the secret only to forget it on awakening ;
but this time I am absolutely sure that I shall not
forget." And the conviction actually stays with
me until I rise from bed, when the physical effort
at once reminds me of the formidable reality of
gravitation.

The oddest part of this experience is the feel
ing of buoyancy. It is much like the feeling of
floating, — of rising or sinking through tepid
water, for example ; — and there is no sense of
real effort. It is a delight ; yet it usually leaves
something to be desired. I am a low flyer ; I can
proceed only like a pteromys or a flying-fish —
and far less quickly: moreover, I must tread
earth occasionally in order to obtain a fresh
impulsion. I seldom rise to a height of more
than twenty-five or thirty feet; — the greater
part of the time 1 am merely skimming sur-

Levitation 229

faces. Touching the ground only at intervals
of several hundred yards is pleasant skimming;
but I always feel, in a faint and watery way, the
dead pull of the world beneath me.

Now the experience of most dream-flyers 1
find to be essentially like my own. I have met
but one who claims superior powers : he says
that he flies over mountains — goes sailing from
peak to peak like a kite. All others whom I
have questioned acknowledge that they fly low,
— in long parabolic curves, — and this only by
touching ground from time to time. Most of
them also tell me that their flights usually begin
with an imagined fall, or desperate leap ; and no
less than four say that the start is commonly
taken from the top of a stairway.

*
* *

For myriads of years humanity has thus been
flying by night. How did the fancied motion,
having so little in common with any experience
of active life, become a universal experience of
the life of sleep ?

It may be that memory-impressions of certain
kinds of aerial motion, — exultant experiences of
leaping or swinging, for example, — are in dream-

230 Shadowings

revival so magnified and prolonged as to create
the illusion of flight. We know that in actual
time the duration of most dreams is very brief.
But in the half -life of sleep — (nightmare offering
some startling exceptions) — there is scarcely more
than a faint smouldering of consciousness by
comparison with the quick flash and vivid thrill
of active cerebration ; — and time, to the dream
ing brain, would seem to be magnified, somewhat
as it must be relatively magnified to the feeble
consciousness of an insect. Supposing that any
memory of the sensation of falling, together
with the memory of the concomitant fear, should
be accidentally revived in sleep, the dream-pro
longation of the sensation and the emotion —
unchecked by the natural sequence of shock
— might suffice to revive other and even pleasur
able memories of airy motion. And these, again,
might quicken other combinations of interrelated
memories able to furnish all the incident and
scenery of the long phantasmagoria.

But this hypothesis will not fully explain cer
tain feelings and ideas of a character different
from any experience of waking-hours, — the ex
ultation of voluntary motion without exertion, —
the pleasure of the utterly impossible, — the

Levitation 231

ghostly delight of imponderability. Neither can
it serve to explain other dream-experiences of
levitation which do not begin with the sensation
of leaping or falling, and are seldom of a pleas
urable kind. For example, it sometimes happens
during nightmare that the dreamer, deprived of
all power to move or speak, actually feels his
body lifted into the air and floated away by the
force of the horror within him. Again, there are
dreams in which the dreamer has no physical
being. I have thus found myself without any
body, — a viewless and voiceless phantom, hov
ering upon a mountain-road in twilight time, and
trying to frighten lonely folk by making small
moaning noises. The sensation was of moving
through the air by mere act of will : there was
no touching of surfaces ; and I seemed to glide
always about a foot above the road.

Could the feeling of dream -flight be partly
interpreted by organic memory of conditions of
life more ancient than man, — life weighty, and
winged, and flying heavily, a little above the
ground ?

Or might we suppose that some all-permeating
Over-Soul, dormant in other time, wakens with-

222 Shadowings

in the brain at rare moments of our sleep-life ?
The limited human consciousness has been beau
tifully compared to the visible solar spectrum,
above and below which whole zones of colors
invisible await the evolution of superior senses ;
and mystics aver that something of the ultra
violet or infra-red rays of the vaster Mind may
be momentarily glimpsed in dreams. Certainly
the Cosmic Life in each of us has been all things
in all forms of space and time. Perhaps you would
like to believe that it may bestir, in slumber, some
vague sense-memory of things more ancient than
the sun, — memory of vanished planets with
fainter powers of gravitation, where the normal
modes of voluntary motion would have been like
the realization of our flying dreams ? . . .

Nightmare-Touch

9

N ightmare-Touch

i

WHAT is the fear of ghosts among those
who believe in ghosts ?

All fear is the result of experience,
— experience of the individual or of the race, —
experience either of the present life or of lives for
gotten. Even the fear of the unknown can have
no other origin. And the fear of ghosts must be
a product of past pain.

Probably the fear of ghosts, as well as the be
lief in them, had its beginning in dreams. It is a
peculiar fear. No other fear is so intense; yet
none is so vague. Feelings thus voluminous and
dim are super-individual mostly, — feelings in
herited, — feelings made within us by the ex
perience of the dead.
What experience?

235

236 Shadowings

Nowhere do I remember reading a plain state
ment of the reason why ghosts are feared. Ask
any ten intelligent persons of your acquaintance,
who remember having once been afraid of ghosts,
to tell you exactly why they were afraid, — to
define the fancy behind the fear ; — and I doubt
whether even one will be able to answer the ques
tion. The literature of folk-lore — oral and writ
ten — throws no clear light upon the subject.
We find, indeed, various legends of men torn
asunder by phantoms ; but such gross imagin
ings could not explain the peculiar quality of
ghostly fear. It is not a fear of bodily violence.
It is not even a reasoning fear, — not a fear that
can readily explain itself, — which would not be
the case if it were founded upon definite ideas of
physical danger. Furthermore, although primi
tive ghosts may have been imagined as capable
of tearing and devouring, the common idea of a
ghost is certainly that of a being intangible and
imponderable.1

1 I may remark here that in many old Japanese legends
and ballads, ghosts are represented as having power to pull
off people's heads. But so far as the origin of the fear of
ghosts is concerned, such stories explain nothing, — since
the experiences that evolved the fear must have been real,
not imaginary, experiences.

Nightmare-Touch 237

Now I venture to state boldly that the common
fear of ghosts is the fear of being touched by
ghosts, — or, in other words, that the imagined
Supernatural is dreaded mainly because of its im
agined power to touch. Only to touch, remem
ber ! — not to wound or to kill.

But this dread of the touch would itself be
the result of experience, — chiefly, I think, of
prenatal experience stored up in the individual
by inheritance, like the child's fear of darkness.
And who can ever have had the sensation of
being touched by ghosts? The answer is
simple: — Everybody who has been seized by
phantoms in a dream.

Elements of primeval fears — fears older than
humanity — doubtless enter into the child-terror
of darkness. But the more definite fear of ghosts
may very possibly be composed with inherited
results of dream-pain, — ancestral experience of
nightmare. And the intuitive terror of super
natural touch can thus be evolutionally ex
plained.

Let me now try to illustrate my theory by
relating some typical experiences.

238 Shadowings

ii

WHEN about five years old I was condemned to
sleep by myself in a certain isolated room, there
after always called the Child's Room. (At that
time I was scarcely ever mentioned by name, but
only referred to as " the Child.") The room was
narrow, but very high, and, in spite of one tall
window, very gloomy. It contained a fire-place
wherein no fire was ever kindled ; and the Child
suspected that the chimney was haunted.

A law was made that no light should be left
in the Child's Room at night, — simply because
the Child was afraid of the dark. His fear of
the dark was judged to be a mental disorder
requiring severe treatment. But the treatment
aggravated the disorder. Previously I had been
accustomed to sleep in a well-lighted room, with
a nurse to take care of me. I thought that I
should die of fright when sentenced to lie alone in
the dark, and — what seemed to me then abom
inably cruel — actually locked into my room,
the most dismal room of the house. Night after
night when I had been warmly tucked into bed,
the lamp was removed ; the key clicked in the

Nightmare-Touch 239

lock; the protecting light and the footsteps of
my guardian receded together. Then an agony
of fear would come upon me. Something in the
black air would seem to gather and grow — (I
thought that I could even hear it grow)— till I had
to scream. Screaming regularly brought punish
ment ; but it also brought back the light, which
more than consoled for the punishment. This fact
being at last found out, orders were given to pay
no further heed to the screams of the Child.

i

Why was I thus insanely afraid ? Partly be
cause the dark had always been peopled for me
with shapes of terror. So far back as memory
extended, I had suffered from ugly dreams ; and
when aroused from them I could always see the
forms dreamed of, lurking in the shadows of the
room. They would soon fade out ; but for sev
eral moments they would appear like tangible
realities. And they were always the same fig
ures. . . . Sometimes, without any preface of
dreams, I used to see them at twilight-time, —
following me about from room to room, or
reaching long dim hands after me, from story
to story, up through the interspaces of the deep
stairways.

240 Shado wings

I had complained of these haunters only to be
told that I must never speak of them, and that
they did not exist. I had complained to every
body in the house ; and everybody in the house
had told me the very same thing. But there was
the evidence of my eyes! The denial of that
evidence I could explain only in two ways : —
Either the shapes were afraid of big people, and
showed themselves to me alone, because I was
little and weak ; or else the entire household had
agreed, for some ghastly reason, to say what was
not true. This latter theory seemed to me the
more probable one, because I had several times
perceived the shapes when I was not unattended ;
— and the consequent appearance of secrecy
frightened me scarcely less than the visions did.
Why was I forbidden to talk about what I
saw, and even heard, — on creaking stairways, —
behind wavering curtains ?

" Nothing will hurt you," — this was the mer
ciless answer to all my pleadings not to be left
alone at night. But the haunters did hurt me.
Only — they would wait until after I had fallen
asleep, and so into their power, — for they pos
sessed occult means of preventing me from rising
or moving or crying out.

Nightmare-Touch 241

Needless to comment upon the policy of lock
ing me up alone with these fears in a black room.
Unutterably was I tormented in that room —
for years! Therefore I felt relatively happy
when sent away at last to a children's boarding,
school, where the haunters very seldom ventured
to show themselves.

They were not like any people that I had ever
known. They were shadowy dark-robed figures,
capable of atrocious self-distortion, — capable, for
instance, of growing up to the ceiling, and then
across it, and then lengthening themselves, head-
downwards, along the opposite wall. Only their
faces were distinct ; and 1 tried not to look at their
faces. I tried also in my dreams — or thought
that I tried — to awaken myself from the sight of
them by pulling at my eyelids with my fingers ; but
the eyelids would remain closed, as if sealed. . . .
Many years afterwards, the frightful plates in
Orfila's Traite des Exhumes, beheld for the first
time, recalled to me with a sickening start the
dream-terrors of childhood. But to understand the
Child's experience, you must imagine Orfila's draw
ings intensely alive, and continually elongating or
distorting, as in some monstrous anamorphosis.

16

242 Shadow! ngs

Nevertheless the mere sight of those night
mare-faces was not the worst of the experiences
in the Child's Room. The dreams always be
gan with a suspicion, or sensation of something
heavy in the air, — slowly quenching will, —
slowly numbing my power to move. At such
times I usually found myself alone in a large
unlighted apartment ; and, almost simultaneously
with the first sensation of fear, the atmosphere
of the room would become suffused, half-way to
the ceiling, with a sombre-yellowish glow, mak
ing objects dimly visible, — though the ceiling
itself remained pitch-black. This was not a true
appearance of light: rather it seemed as if the
black air were changing color from beneath. . . .
Certain terrible aspects of sunset, on the eve of
storm, offer like effects of sinister color. . . .
Forthwith I would try to escape, — (feeling at
every step a sensation as of wading) , — and
would sometimes succeed in struggling half-way
across the room ; — but there I would always find
myself brought to a standstill, — paralyzed by
some innominable opposition. Happy voices I
could hear in the next room ; — I could see light
through the transom over the door that I had
vainly endeavored to reach; — I knew that one

Nightmare-Touch 242

loud cry would save me. But not even by the
most frantic effort could I raise my voice above
a whisper. . . . And all this signified only that
the Nameless was coming, — was nearing, — was
mounting the stairs. I could hear the step, —
booming like the sound of a muffled drum, —
and I wondered why nobody else heard it. A
long, long time the haunter would take to come,
— malevolently pausing after each ghastly foot
fall. Then, without a creak, the bolted door
would open, — slowly, slowly, — and the thing
would enter, gibbering soundlessly, — and put
out hands, — and clutch me, — and toss me to
the black ceiling, — and catch me descending to
toss me up again, and again, and again. ... In
those moments the feeling was not fear: fear
itself had been torpified by the first seizure. It
was a sensation that has no name in the language
of the living. For every touch brought a shock
of something infinitely worse than pain, — some
thing that thrilled into the innermost secret being
of me, — a sort of abominable electricity, dis
covering unimagined capacities of suffering in
totally unfamiliar regions of sentiency. . . . This
was commonly the work of a single tormentor ;
but I can also remember having been caught by

244 Shadowings

a group, and tossed from one to another, —
seemingly for a time of many minutes.

HI

WHENCE the fancy of those shapes? I do not
know. Possibly from some impression of fear
in earliest infancy; possibly from some experi
ence of fear in other lives than mine. That
mystery is forever insoluble. But the mystery
of the shock of the touch admits of a definite
hypothesis.

First, allow me to observe that the experience of
the sensation itself cannot be dismissed as " mere
imagination." Imagination means cerebral activ
ity : its pains and its pleasures are alike insepar
able from nervous operation, and their physical
importance is sufficiently proved by their physi
ological effects. Dream-fear may kill as well as
other fear; and no emotion thus powerful can
be reasonably deemed undeserving of study.

One remarkable fact in the problem to be con
sidered is that the sensation of seizure in dreams
differs totally from all sensations familiar to
ordinary waking life. Why this differentiation ?
How interpret the extraordinary massiveness and
depth of the thrill?

Nightmare-Touch 24$

I have already suggested that the dreamer's
fear is most probably not a reflection of relative
experience, but represents the incalculable total of
ancestral experience of dream -fear. If the sum
of the experience of active life be transmitted by
inheritance, so must likewise be transmitted the
summed experience of the life of sleep. And
in normal heredity either class of transmissions
would probably remain distinct.

Now, granting this hypothesis, the sensation
of dream-seizure would have had its beginnings
in the earliest phases of dream -consciousness, —
long prior to the apparition of man. The first
creatures capable of thought and fear must often
have dreamed of being caught by their natural
enemies. There could not have been much
imagining of pain in these primal dreams. But
higher nervous development in later forms of
being would have been accompanied with larger
susceptibility to dream-pain. Still later, with the
growth of reasoning-power, ideas of the super
natural would have changed and intensified the
character of dream-fear. Furthermore, through
all the course of evolution, heredity would have
been accumulating the experience of such feeling.
Under those forms of imaginative pain evolved

246 Shadowings

through reaction of religious beliefs, there would
persist some dim survival of savage primitive
fears, and again, under this, a dimmer but in
comparably deeper substratum of ancient animal-
terrors. In the dreams of the modern child all
these latencies might quicken, — one below an
other, — unfathomably, — with the coming and
the growing of nightmare.

It may be doubted whether the phantasms of
any particular nightmare have a history older
than the brain in which they move. But the
shock of the touch would seem to indicate some
point of dream-contact with the total race-ex
perience of shadowy seizure. It may be that
profundities of Self, — abysses never reached by
any ray from the life of sun, — are strangely
stirred in slumber, and that out of their black
ness immediately responds a shuddering of mem
ory, measureless even by millions of years.

Readings from a Dream-book

Readings from a Dream-book

OFTEN, in the blind dead of the night, I find
myself reading a book, — a big broad
book, — a dream-book. By " dream-
book," I do not mean a book about dreams,
but a book made of the stuff that dreams are
made of.

I do not know the name of the book, nor the
name of its author : I have not been able to see
the title-page ; and there is no running title. As
for the back of the volume, it remains, — like the
back of the Moon, — invisible forever.

At no time have I touched the book in any
way, — not even to turn a leaf. Somebody,
always viewless, holds it up and open before
me in the dark ; and I can read it only because it
is lighted by a light that comes from nowhere.
Above and beneath and on either side of the
book there is darkness absolute; but the pages
249

2!>0 Shadowings

seem to retain the yellow glow of lamps that
once illuminated them.

A queer fact is that I never see the entire text
of a page at once, though I see the whole page
itself plainly. The text rises, or seems to rise,
to the surface of the paper as I gaze, and fades
out almost immediately after having been read.
By a simple effort of will, I can recall the
vanished sentences to the page; but they do
not come back in the same form as before : they
seem to have been oddly revised during the
interval. Never can I coax even one fugitive
line to reproduce itself exactly as it read at
first. But I can always force something to re-
turn; and this something remains sharply dis
tinct during perusal. Then it turns faint grey,
and appears to sink — as through thick milk —
backward out of sight.

By regularly taking care to write down, imme
diately upon awakening, whatever I could remem
ber reading in the dream-book, I found myself
able last year to reproduce portions of the text.
But the order in which I now present these
fragments is not at all the order in which I
recovered them. If they seem to have any inter.

From a Dream-book

connection, this is only because I tried to arrange
them in what I imagined to be the rational
sequence. Of their original place and relation, I
know scarcely anything. And, even regarding
the character of the book itself, I have been able
to discover only that a great part of it consists of
dialogues about the Unthinkable.

Fr. I

»

. . . Then the Wave prayed to remain a wave
forever.

The Sea made answer : —

" Nay, thou must break : there is no rest in me.
Billions of billions of times thou wilt rise again
to break, and break to rise again."

The Wave complained : —

" I fear. Thou sayest that I shall rise again.
But when did ever a wave return from the place
of breaking ? "

The Sea responded : —

" Times countless beyond utterance thou hast
broken ; and yet thou art ! Behold the myriads of
the waves that run before thee, and the myriads
that pursue behind thee ! — all have been to the
place of breaking times unspeakable ; and thither

Shadowings

they hasten now to break again. Into me they
melt, only to swell anew. But pass they must ;
for there is not any rest in me."

Murmuring, the Wave replied : —

" Shall I not be scattered presently to mix with
the mingling of all these myriads ? How should
I rise again ? Never, never again can I become
the same."

" The same thou never art," returned the Sea,
" at any two moments in thy running : perpetual
change is the law of thy being. What is thine
' I' ? Always thou art shaped with the sub
stance of waves forgotten, — waves numberless
beyond the sands of the shores of me. In thy
multiplicity what art thou ? — a phantom, an
impermanency ! "

" Real is pain," sobbed the Wave, — " and
fear and hope, and the joy of the light. Whence
and what are these, if I be not real ? "

"Thou hast no pain," the Sea responded, —
" nor fear nor hope nor joy. Thou art nothing
— save in me. I am thy Self, thine T: thy
form is my dream ; thy motion is my will ; thy
breaking is my pain. Break thou must, because
there is no rest in me ; but thou wilt break only
to rise again, — for death is the Rhythm of Life.

From a Dream-book

Lo ! I, too, die that I may live : these my waters
have passed, and will pass again, with wrecks of
innumerable worlds to the burning of innumerable
suns. I, too, am multiple unspeakably: dead
tides of millions of oceans revive in mine ebb and
flow. Suffice thee to learn that only because
thou wast thou art, and that because thou art thou
wilt become again."

Muttered the Wave, —

" I cannot understand."

Answered the Sea, —

"Thy part is to pulse and pass, — never to
understand. I also, — even I, the great Sea, — do
not understand. ..."

Fr. II

..." The stones and the rocks have felt ; the
winds have been breath and speech ; the rivers
and oceans of earth have been locked into cham
bers of hearts. And the palingenesis cannot
cease till every cosmic particle shall have passed
through the uttermost possible experience of the
highest possible life."

" But what of the planetary core? — has that,
too, felt and thought?"

2£4 Shadowings

" Even so surely as that all flesh has been sun-
fire ! In the ceaseless succession of integrations
and dissolutions, all things have shifted relation
and place numberless billions of times. Hearts
of old moons will make the surface of future
worlds. ..."

Fr. Ill

... "No regret is vain. It is sorrow that spins
the thread, — softer than moonshine, thinner than
fragrance, stronger than death, — the Gleipnir-
chain of the Greater Memory. . . .

" In millions of years you will meet again ; —
and the time will not seem long ; for a million years
and a moment are the same to the dead. Then
you will not be all of your present self, nor she
be all that she has been : both of you will at
once be less, and yet incomparably more. Then,
to the longing that must come upon you, body
itself will seem but a barrier through which you
would leap to her — or, it may be, to him ; for
sex will have shifted numberless times ere then.
Neither will remember; but each will be filled
with a feeling immeasurable of having met
before. . , ."

From a Dream-book

Fr. IV

... "So wronging the being who loves, —
the being blindly imagined but of yesterday, —
this mocker mocks the divine in the past of the
Soul of the World. Then in that heart is re
vived the countless million sorrows buried in
forgotten graves, — all the old pain of Love, in
its patient contest with Hate, since the beginning
of Time.

" And the Gods know, — the dim ones who
dwell beyond Space, — spinning the mysteries
of Shape and Name. For they sit at the roots
of Life ; and the pain runs back to them ; and
they feel that wrong, — as the Spider feels in
the trembling of her web that a thread is
broken. . . ."

Fr. V

..." Love at sight is the choice of the dead.
But the most of them are older than ethical
systems ; and the decision of their majorities is
rarely moral. They choose by beauty, — accord
ing to their memory of physical excellence ; and

2£6 Shadowings

as bodily fitness makes the foundation of mental
and of moral power, they are not apt to choose
ill. Nevertheless they are sometimes strangely
cheated. They have been known to want beings
that could never help ghost to a body, — hollow
goblins. . . ."

Fr. VI

. . . "The Animulae making the Self do not
fear death as dissolution. They fear death
only as reintegration, — recombination with the
strange and the hateful of other lives : they
fear the imprisonment, within another body, of
that which loves together with that which
loathes. ..."

Fr. VII

..." In other time the El-Woman sat only in
waste places, and by solitary ways. But now
in the shadows of cities she offers her breasts to
youth ; and he whom she entices, presently goes
mad, and becomes, like herself, a hollowness.
For the higher ghosts that entered into the making
of him perish at that goblin -touch, — die as the

From a Dream-book

pupa dies in the cocoon, leaving only a shell and
dust behind. . . ."

Fr. VIII

. . . The Man said to the multitude remaining
of his Souls : —

" I am weary of life."

And the remnant replied to him : —

" We also are weary of the shame and pain of
dwelling in so vile a habitation. Continually we
strive that the beams may break, and the pillars
crack, and the roof fall in upon us."

"Surely there is a curse upon me," groaned
the Man. " There is no justice in the Gods ! "

Then the Souls tumultuously laughed in scorn,
— even as the leaves of a wood in the wind do
chuckle all together. And they made answer to
him: —

" As a fool thou liest ! Did any save thyself
make thy vile body ? Was it shapen — or mis
shapen — by any deeds or thoughts except thine
own ? "

"No deed or thought can I remember," re
turned the Man, " deserving that which has come
upon me."
17

Shadowings

" Remember ! " laughed the Souls. "No —
the folly was in other lives. But we remember ;
and remembering, we hate."

" Ye are all one with me ! " cried the Man, —
" how can ye hate ? "

"One with thee," mocked the Souls, — "as
the wearer is one with his garment! . . . How
can we hate ? As the fire that devours the wood
from which it is drawn by the fire-maker — even
so we can hate."

" It is a cursed world ! " cried the Man — " why
did ye not guide me ? "

The Souls replied to him : —

" Thou wouldst not heed the guiding of ghosts
that were wiser than we. . . . Cowards and
weaklings curse the world. The strong do not
blame the world: it gives them all that they
desire. By power they break and take and
keep. Life for them is a joy, a triumph, an
exultation. But creatures without power merit
nothing ; and nothingness becomes their portion.
Thou and we shall presently enter into noth
ingness."

" Do ye fear ? " — asked the Man.

" There is reason for fear," the Souls answered.
" Yet no one of us would wish to delay the time

From a Dream-book

of what we fear by continuing to make part of
such an existence as thine."

"But ye have died innumerable times?" —
wonderingly said the Man.

"No, we have not," said the Souls, — "not
even once that we can remember ; and our mem
ory reaches back to the beginnings of this world.
We die only with the race."

The Man said nothing, — being afraid. The
Souls resumed : —

"Thy race ceases. Its continuance depended
upon thy power to serve our purposes. Thou
hast lost all power. What art thou but a charnel-
house, a mortuary- pit ? Freedom we needed,
and space: here we have been compacted to
gether, a billion to a pin-point! Doorless our
chambers and blind; — and the passages are
blocked and broken ; — and the stairways lead to
nothing. Also there are Haunters here, not of
our kind, — Things never to be named."

For a little time the Man thought gratefully of
death and dust. But suddenly there came into
his memory a vision of his enemy's face, with
a wicked smile upon it. And then he wished
for longer life, — a hundred years of life and
pain, — only to see the grass grow tall above the

260 Shadowings

grave of that enemy. And the Souls mocked his
desire : —

"Thine enemy will not waste much thought
upon thee. He is no half -man, — thine enemy !
The ghosts in that body have room and great
light. High are the ceilings of their habitation ;
wide and clear the passageways; luminous the
courts and pure. Like a fortress excellently gar
risoned is the brain of thine enemy; — and to
any point thereof the defending hosts can be
gathered for battle in a moment together. His
generation will not cease — nay ! that face of his
will multiply throughout the centuries ! Because
thine enemy in every time provided for the
needs of his higher ghosts : he gave heed to their
warnings ; he pleasured them in all just ways ;
he did not fail in reverence to them. Wherefore
they now have power to help him at his need.
. . . How hast thou reverenced or pleasured us ? "

The Man remained silent for a space. Then, as
in horror of doubting, he questioned : —

"Wherefore should ye fear — if nothingness
be the end ? "

" What is nothingness ? " the Souls responded.
"Only in the language of delusion is there

From a Dream-book 261

an end. That which thou callest the end is
in truth but the very beginning. The essence
of us cannot cease. In the burning of worlds it
cannot be consumed. It will shudder in the
cores of great stars ; — it will quiver in the light
of other suns. And once more, in some future
cosmos, it will reconquer knowledge — but only
after evolutions unthinkable for multitude. Even
out of the nameless beginnings of form, and
thence through every cycle of vanished being, —
through all successions of exhausted pain, —
through all the Abyss of the Past, — it must
climb again."

The Man uttered no word : the Souls spoke on : —

" For millions of millions of ages must we
shiver in tempests of fire: then shall we enter
anew into some slime primordial, — there to
quicken, and again writhe upward through all
foul dumb blind shapes. Innumerable the meta
morphoses ! — immeasurable the agonies ! . . .
And the fault is not of any Gods : it is thine ! "

" Good or evil," muttered the Man, — " what
signifies either? The best must become as the
worst in the grind of the endless change."

" Nay ! " cried out the Souls ; " for the strong
there is a goal, — - the goal that thou couldst not

262 Shadow! ngs

strive to gain. They will help to the fashioning
of fairer worlds ; — they will win to larger light ;
— they will tower and soar as flame to enter the
Zones of the Divine. But thou and we go
back to slime! Think of the billion summers
that might have been for us ! — think of the joys,
the loves, the triumphs cast away ! — the dawns
of the knowledge undreamed, — the glories of
sense unimagined, — the exultations of illimitable
power! . . . think, think, O fool, of all that
thou hast lost ! "

Then the Souls of the Man turned themselves
into worms, and devoured him.

In a Pair of Eyes

In a Pair of Eyes

*

THERE is one adolescent moment never to
be forgotten, — the moment when the boy
learns that this world contains nothing
more wonderful than a certain pair of eyes. At
first the surprise of the discovery leaves him
breathless : instinctively he turns away his gaze.
That vision seemed too delicious to be true.
But presently he ventures to look again, — fear
ing with a new fear, — afraid of the reality, afraid
also of being observed ; — and lo ! his doubt
dissolves in a new shock of ecstasy. Those eyes
are even more wonderful than he had imagined
— nay ! they become more and yet more en
trancing every successive time that he looks at
them ! Surely in all the universe there cannot
be another such pair of eyes! What can lend
them such enchantment ? Why do they appear
divine? ... He feels that he must ask some
body to explain, — must propound to older and
265

266 Shadowings

wiser heads the riddle of his new emotions.
Then he makes his confession, with a faint intui
tive fear of being laughed at, but with a strange,
fresh sense of rapture in the telling. Laughed at
he is — tenderly ; but this does not embarrass
him nearly so much as the fact that he can get
no answer to his question, — to the simple
" Why ? " made so interesting by his frank sur
prise and his timid blushes. No one is able to
enlighten him ; but all can sympathize with the
bewilderment of his sudden awakening from the
long soul -sleep of childhood.

Perhaps that " Why ? " never can be fully an
swered. But the mystery that prompted it con
stantly tempts one to theorize ; and theories may
have a worth independent of immediate results.
Had it not been for old theories concerning the
Unknowable, what should we have been able to
learn about the Knowable ? Was it not while
in pursuit of the Impossible that we stumbled
upon the undreamed-of and infinitely marvellous
Possible ?

Why indeed should a pair of human eyes
appear for a time to us so beautiful that, when
likening their radiance to splendor of diamond

In a Pair of Eyes 267

or amethyst or emerald, we feel the comparison
a blasphemy ? Why should we find them deeper
than the sea, deeper than the day, — deep even
as the night of Space, with its scintillant mist of
suns ? Certainly not because of mere wild fancy.
These thoughts, these feelings, must spring from
some actual perception of the marvellous, —
some veritable revelation of the unspeakable.
There is, in very truth, one brief hour of life
during which the world holds for us nothing so
wonderful as a pair of eyes. And then, while
looking into them, we discover a thrill of awe
vibrating through our delight, — awe made by
a something/*?// rather than seen : a latency, — a
power, — a shadowing of depth unfathomable as
the cosmic Ether. It is as though, through some
intense and sudden stimulation of vital being, we
had obtained — for one supercelestial moment —
the glimpse of a reality, never before imagined,
and never again to be revealed.

There is, indeed, an illusion. We seem to
view the divine ; but this divine itself, whereby
we are dazzled and duped, is a ghost. Not to
actuality belongs the spell, — not to anything
that is, — but to some infinite composite phan
tom of what has been. Wondrous the vision —

268 Shadowings

but wondrous only because our mortal sight then
pierces beyond the surface of the present into
profundities of myriads of years, — pierces be
yond the mask of life into the enormous night
of death. For a moment we are made aware of
a beauty and a mystery and a depth unutterable :
then the Veil falls again forever.

The splendor of the eyes that we worship
belongs to them only as brightness to the morn
ing-star. It is a reflex from beyond the shadow
of the Now, — a ghost-light of vanished suns.
Unknowingly within that maiden- gaze we meet
the gaze of eyes more countless than the hosts
of heaven, — eyes otherwhere passed into dark
ness and dust.

Thus, and only thus, the depth of that gaze is
the depth of the Sea of Death and Birth, — and
its mystery is the World-Soul's vision, watching
us out of the silent vast of the Abyss of Being.

Thus, and only thus, do truth and illusion
mingle in the magic of eyes, — the spectral past
suffusing with charm ineffable the apparition of
the present ; — and the sudden splendor in the
joul of the Seer is but a flash, — one soundless
sheet -lightning of the Infinite Memory.

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY

Los Angeles
This book is DUE on the last date stamped below.

Col. Lib.

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