Short Histories of
10^""^^ the Literatures of
the World : VI.
Edited by Edmund Gosse
Short Histories of the
Literatures of the World
Edited by EDMUND GOSSE
Large Crown 8vo, cloth, 6s. each Volume
ANCIENT GREEK LITERATURE
By Prof. Gilbert Murray, M.A.
FRENCH LITERATURE
By Prof. Edward Dowden, D.C.L, LL.D.
MODERN ENGLISH LITERATURE
By the Editor
ITALIAN LITERATURE
By Richard Garnett, C.B., LL.D.
SPANISH LITERATURE
By James Fitzmaurice-Kelly
JAPANESE LITERATURE
By William George Aston, C.M.G., D.Lit.
In preparation
BOHEMIAN LITERATURE
By Francis, Count Lutzow
{Shortly
SANSKRIT LITERATURE
By Prof. A. A. Macdonell, M.A.
MODERN SCANDINAVIAN LITERATURE
By Dr. Georg Brandes
HUNGARIAN LITERATURE
By Dr. ZoltAn Beothy
AMERICAN LITERATURE
By Professor Moses Coit Tyler, LL.D.
LATIN LITERATURE
By Dr. A. W. Verrall
RUSSIAN LITERATURE
By K. Waliszewski
Other volumes will follow
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
A History of
JAPANESE LITERATURE
W. G. ASTON, C.M.G., D.Lit.
LATE JAPANESE SECRETARY TO H.M. LEGATION, TOKIO
Xonbon
WILLIAM HEINEMANN
MDCCCXCIX
pi
7/7
^7
76.^43,
This Edition enjoys copyright in all countries
signatory to the Berne Treaty, and is
not to be ifnported into the United States
of America.
PREFACE
The Japanese have a voluminous literature, extending
over twelve centuries, which to this day has been very
imperfectly explored by European students. Forty years
ago no Englishman had read a page of a Japanese book,
and although some Continental scholars had a useful
acquaintance with the language, their contributions to
our knowledge are unimportant. Much has been done
in the interval, by writers of grammars and dictionaries, to
facilitate the acquirement of this most difficult language,
and translations by Sir E. Satow, Messrs. Mitford, Cham-
berlain, Dickins, and others, have given us interesting
glimpses of certain phases of the literature. But the wider
field has hitherto remained untouched. Beyond a few^
brief detached notices, there is no body of critical opinion
on Japanese books in any European language, and al-
though the Japanese themselves have done more in this
direction, their labours are for various reasons in a great
measure unserviceable.
The historian of their literature is therefore thrown
mainly upon his own resources, and must do his best,
by a direct examination of those works which the verdict
of posterity has marked out as most worthy of notice, to
ascertain their character and place in literature, and to
grasp as far as possible the ideas which inspired them.
In the following pages comparatively little space has
b
vi PREFACE
been devoted to what is necessarily a record of personal
impressions and opinions, the outcome of rough pioneer
work, and having little claim to be considered as mature
literary criticism. It seemed preferable, especially in the
case of a literature so little known to the English public
as that of Japan, to allot ample room to translated
extracts, and to such biographical notices as are neces-
sary to show what manner of men the authors were.
The general plan, however, of this series has not been
lost sight of. Important writers have been treated at com-
paratively greater length, to the neglect of many lesser
notabilities, and an attempt has been made, in so far as
the state of our knowledge permits, to follow the move-
ment of the literature, and to trace the causes which
determined its character at particular periods.
Writers on European literatures are entitled to take
for granted, on the part of their readers, a previous
acquaintance with the leading facts of the political and
religious history of the country with which they are
dealing. In the case of Japan, however, it has been
thought not superfluous to add a few data of this kind,
without a knowledge of which it is impossible to under-
stand the course of the literary development.
In justice to Japanese literature, it is right to draw
attention to some obstacles which prevent any transla-
tions from giving an adequate idea of its merits. The
Italian adage is particularly applicable to translators from
the Japanese. Even when they have a competent know-
ledge of the language they cannot possibly reproduce
all the metaphors, allusions, quotations, and illustrations
which form the stock of the Japanese author, and which
are in great part unintelligible without a profusion of
explanatory notes intolerable to the reader.
PREFACE vii
Another difficulty arises from the fact that a Japanese
word frequently covers a meaning which is only approxi-
mately the same as that of the corresponding English
term, or calls up quite different associations. The karasu,
for example, is not exactly a crow, but a corvus Japonensisy
a larger bird than our species, with different cries and
habits. The cherry is, in Japan, the queen of flowers,
and is not valued for its fruit, while the rose is regarded
as a mere thorny bush. Valerian, which to us is sugges-
tive principally of cats, takes the place of the rosebud as
the recognised metaphor for the early bloom of woman-
hood. And what is the translator to do with the names
of flowers as familiar to the Japanese as daisy or daffodil
to ourselves, but for which he can offer no better equi-
valents than such clumsy inventions as Lespedeza, Platy-
codon grandifloruniy and Deutzia scabra ?
In the world of thought and sentiment, the differences,
though less tangible, are even more important. Take
the Japanese word for conscience, namely, honshin. It
means " original heart," and implies a theory that man's
heart is originally good, and that conscience is its voice
speaking within him. The words for justice, virtue,
chastity, honour, love, and many more ideas of this class,
although meaning substantially the same as with our-
selves, must yet be taken with differences which are
necessarily lost in a translation.
When to these are added the ordinary difficulties which
beset the task of rendering thought from one language
into another, and which are incomparably greater in the
case of an idiom so different from our own, it will be
seen that it is not possible to do justice to Japanese litera-
ture by translation. In the present volume it has often
been necessary to pass over the best and most charac-
viii PREFACE
li^P
teristic passages of an author in favour of others wh
lent themselves more readily to presentation in an Eng-
lish form.
With one or two stated exceptions the translations
are my own.
My best thanks are due to Sir Ernest Satow, Her
Majesty's Minister to Japan, for lending me most of his
extensive library of Japanese books, and also for supply-
ing me from time to time with recent native publications,
which have been of much service to me.
I cordially associate myself with previous contributors
to this series of histories, by acknowledging the benefit '
which the present volume has derived from the editorial
care of Mr. Edmund Gosse.
Japanese words and proper names have been intro-
duced as sparingly as possible. The system of spelling
adopted is that of the Royal Geographical Society. It
may be described briefly as ''Consonants as in English,
vowels as in Italian ; no silent letters."
W. G. ASTON.
CONTENTS
BOOK THE FIRST— ARCHAIC PERIOD (BEFORE A.D. 700)
PAGE
INTRODUCTORY — SONGS — SHINTO RITUALS .... 3
BOOK THE SECOND— NARA PERIOD (eighth century)
(poetry cultivated)
CHAPTER
I. introductory — PROSE — *'K0JIKI" — " IDZUMO FUDOKI " —
IMPERIAL EDICTS . . . I7
II. JAPANESE POETRY GENERALLY — THE *'MANY0SHIU" — WORKS
IN CHINESE 24
BOOK THE THIRD— HEIAN OR CLASSICAL PERIOD
(800-1186)
I. INTRODUCTORY 53
IL POETRY — THE "KOKINSHIU" 58
in. PROSE — "KOKINSHIU" PREFACE, "TOSA NIKKI," "TAKETORI
MO NOG ATARI," *' ISE " AND OTHER MINOR MONOGATARI . 63
IV. " GENJI MONOGATARI " . 92
V. *'makura zoshi" 104
VI. SOME MINOR WORKS II8
VII. "YEIGWA MONOGATARI" — " O-KAGAMI " — WORKS IN CHINESE. 122
ix
CONTENTS
BOOK THE FOURTH—KAMAKURA PERIOD (i 186-1332)
(decline of learning)
CHAPTER PAGE
I. INTRODUCTORY I3I
II. HISTORICAL WORKS — **GEMPEI SEISUIKI," " HEIKE MONOGA-
TARI," "MIDZU-KAGAMI," " HOGEN MONOGATART," " HEIJI
MONOGATARl" 1 34
III. CHOMEF AND THE " HOJOKI " — *' IZAYOI NO KI " — POETRY —
WORKS IN CHINESE I45
BOOK THE FIFTH— NAMBOKU-CHO AND MUROM ACHl
PERIODS ( 1 332-1 603)
(dark age)
L INTRODUCTORY — " JINKOSHOTOKI " — "TAIHEIKI" . . . 163
II. KENKO and THE " TSURE-DZURE-GUSA " 184
III. POETRY— THE NO OR LYRICAL DRAMA — KIOGEN OK FAKCE . 1 97
> BOOK THE SIXTH— YEDO PERIOD (1603-1867)
(revival of learning)
I. INTRODUCTORY — '* TAIKOKI " 217
II. SEVENTEENTH CENTURY — KANGAKUSHA (CHINESE SCHOLARS)
— SEIKWA AND THE CHU-HI PHILOSOPHY, YEKKEN, HAKU-
SEKI, KIUSO 224
III. SEVENTEENTH CENTURY — POPULAR LITERATURE — SAIKAKU,
CHILDREN'S STORIES — CHIKAMATSU AND THE POPULAR
DRAMA . 267
IV. SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY POETRY— HAIKAI, HAIBUN, KIOKA . 289
V. EIGHTEENTH CENTURY — KANGAKUSHA — FICTION — ^JISHO A,\D
KISEKI— JITSUROKU-MONO — WASOBIOYE — POPULAR DRAk A 30O
CONTENTS xi
CHAPTER PAGE
VI. EIGHTEENTH CENTURY — THE WAGAKUSHA (STUDENTS OF
JAPANESE antiquity) — KEICHU, KADA, MABUCHI, MO-
TOORI 315
VII. NINETEENTH CENTURY — HI RAT A — SHINGAKU SERMONS . . 334
VIII. NINETEENTH-CENTURY FICTION — ROMANTIC SCHOOL — KIO-
DEN, BAKIN, TANEHIKO. HUMOURISTS — SAMBA, IKKU.
SENTIMENTAL NOVELS (NINJOBON) — SHUNSUI. WORKS IN
CHINESE 345
BOOK THE SEVENTH— TOKIO PERIOD (1867- 1898)
SOME RECENT DEVELOPMENTS UNDER EUROPEAN INFLUENCE . 383
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE 400
LIST OF DICTIONARIES, &c 403
INDEX 405
ERRATA
Page 113, near bottom, read 'the birth of a succession of female
children.'
Page 144, for * carriage,' &c., read ' people who ride in a creaking
carriage. Such people must be deaf and are very detestable.
When you ride in such a carriage yourself it is the owner who is
detestable.'
BOOK THE FIRST
ARCHAIC PERIOD (before a.d. 700)
BOOK THE FIRST
ARCHAIC PERIOD (before a.d. 700)
There are a few geographical and other facts which it
is useful to bear in mind in tracing the history of Japan-
ese literature. If we glance at a map of Eastern Asia
we see that Japan forms a group of islands somewhat
larger in superficial area than Great Britain and Ireland,
separated by a narrow strait from the adjoining con-
tinent. Here lies the peninsula of Corea, inhabited by
a nation distinct from the Chinese in race and language,
but from ancient times dependent both politically and
intellectually on its powerful neighbour. Corea has
shown little originality in the development of its litera-
ture or civilisation, and its chief importance in connec-
tion with Japan depends on its geographical position,
which, in the infancy of the art of navigation, made it
the natural intermediary between Japan and China.
China, with its ancient civilisation, its copious and in
many respects remarkable literature, and a history which
goes back for more than two thousand years, has for
many centuries exercised a commanding influence over
all its neighbours. What Greece and Rome have been
to Europe, China has been to the nations of the far East.
Japan, in particular, is very deeply indebted to it. There
is no department of Japanese national life and thought.
4 JAPANESE LITERATURE
whether material civilisation, religion, morals, political
organisation, language, or literature, which does not bear
traces of Chinese influence.
Beyond China lies India, which has furnished one
important factor in moulding the literature of Japan,
namely. Buddhism. If, in regard to Japan, China takes
the place of Greece and Rome, Buddhism, with its
softening and humanising influences, holds a position
similar to that of Christianity in the Western World.
The alternate preponderance of these two powers is an
interesting feature of Japanese history, and we shall see
that it has not been without effect upon the literature.
We must not, however, forget the native genius of the
Japanese nation, which, in spite of numerous external
obligations, has yet retained its originality. The Japanese
are never contented with simple borrowing. In art, poli-
tical institutions, and even religion, they are in the habit
of modifying extensively everything which they adopt
from others, and impressing on it the stamp of the national
mind. It is the same with the literature. Though enor-
mously indebted to China, and at times hindered in its
natural development by a too implicit reliance on foreign
guidance, it has remained nevertheless a true index of
the national character. It is the literature of a brave,
courteous, light-hearted, pleasure-loving people, senti-
mental rather than passionate, witty and humorous, of
nimble apprehension, but not profound ; ingenious and
inventive, but hardly capable of high intellectual achieve-
ment ; of receptive minds endowed with a voracious
appetite for knowledge ; with a turn for neatness and
elegance of expression, but seldom or never rising to
sublimity.
The insular position and political independence of
ARCHAIC PERIOD 5
Japan no doubt account partially for the literature re-
taining its native originality of character. But more is
no doubt due to a fundamental difference of race from
the nations to which the Japanese have been indebted.
There is reason to believe that the Japanese nation con-
tains an aboriginal polynesian element (which some
writers call Malay), but the evidence of language and
anthropology is conclusive that it is in the main a con-
tinental race, quite distinct, however, from the Chinese.
It must have come from a more northerly region, and
geographical considerations point distinctly to Corea
as the point of embarkation. Beyond this it is safer
not to go. Nor need we attempt to fix any date for
their migration. Native tradition is silent on the sub-
ject, or rather assumes that the Japanese are aborigines.
The process of colonisation probably extended over cen-
turies, and the numerous immigrations from Corea to
Japan in historical times are no doubt simply a continua-
tion of the same movement.
The first historical fact to be gleaned from the legendary
stories which have been preserved to us in the ancient
Japanese annals is an invasion of the central part of the
country, already settled by men of Japanese race, by a
conquering army from the western island of Kiushiu.
Their leader, Jimmu Tenno, who is recognised as the
first Mikado, established his capital in the province of
Yamato at a time which it is best to indicate vaguely
as a few centuries before the Christian epoch. Here, or
in one of the adjoining provinces, his successors reigned
for many centuries, each Mikado building himself a palace
and founding a capital in a fresh locality. A semi-nomad
arrangement of this kind is obviously incompatible with
much advance in civilisation. It was not until the capital
6 JAPANESE LITERATURE
was established on a more permanent footing at Nara, inl
the beginning of the eighth century, that any substantial]
progress was made in Hterature and the arts.
Although the Archaic period has left us but few literary]
monuments, it is marked by two events of prime import-
ance for the development of literature in Japan. One is
the introduction of the art of writing, with which was
associated an acquaintance with the literature and his-
tory of China ; and the other the first propagation of the
Buddhist religion. Both came, in the first place, from
Corea, which had received them from China no long
time before. Until they became acquainted with Chinese
the Japanese had no written character. It is probable
that individuals had acquired some knowledge of the
Chinese language and script early in the Christian era,
but the first actual mention of the study of Chinese in
Japan belongs to a.d. 405. In this year a Corean named
Wangin was appointed tutor in Chinese to a Japanese
Imperial Prince. He was the first of a succession of
teachers from Corea whose instructions paved the way
for a revolution in Japanese customs and institutions, not
less profound and far-reaching than that which we have
witnessed in our own day as the result of an acquaint-
ance with Western civilisation and science.
Buddhism was introduced about one hundred and fifty
years later — in the middle of the sixth century — but it
was not until the seventh that it made much progress.
Its real founder in Japan was the Imperial Prince Shotoku
Daishi, who died A.D. 621.
In the scanty remains of the period with which we are
now dealing, there is scarce any trace either of Buddhist
or of Chinese influences. It may be said that the Kiujiki^
a historical work attributed to the Prince just mentioned,
SONGS 7
should be reckoned an exception to this statement. But
its authenticity has been questioned ; and, in any case,
it is in the Chinese language, and therefore, properly
speaking, forms no part of Japanese literature.
Songs.
The oldest relics of the genuine native literature of
Japan are a series of songs contained in the ancient
annals known as the Kojiki and Nihongiy and the Norito
or liturgies of the Shinto, or native Japanese religion.
These songs are associated with some historical or
quasi-historical incident, and are ascribed to Mikados
or other distinguished personages. Several of them are
attributed to Jimmu Ten no, who is said to have founded
the Japanese monarchy in 660 B.C., and equally fictitious
accounts are given of others. Probably we shall not be
far wrong if we assign most of the poems of the Kojiki
and Nihongi to the latter part of the Archaic period,
namely, to the sixth and seventh centuries of our era.
The poetry of this time possesses a certain philological
and archaeological interest, but its merit as literature is
small. The language is still unformed, and there is a
plentiful lack of imagination and of the other higher
qualities of poetry. What, for example, can be more
primitive than the following war-song, which is supposed
to have been chanted by Jimmu Tenno's soldiers, and
which, the author of the Nihongi informs us, was still
sung by the Imperial Guards in his own day ?
" Ho ! now is the time;
Ho / now is the time;
Ha! Ha! Psha!
Eve?i now
My boys !
Even now
My boys !^^
8 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Or this, which is dated 90 B.C. ?
" The Hall of Miwa
{Of sweet sake' fame),
Even at morn its door
Let us push open —
The door of the Hall of Miwa."
Sake, it ought, perhaps, to be explained, is ati intoxi-
cating liquor brewed from rice. The sentiment of this
song therefore recalls our own ^^ We won't go home till
morning."
The following, which is said to have been composed
by the Mikado Ojin, a.d. 282, but which more probably
belongs to the sixth century, may serve to indicate the
highest level to which poetry attained during this period.
This Mikado was about to add to his harem a beautiful
woman named Kami-naga-hime, or the ^' long-haired
maid," when he discovered that his son had fallen vio-
lently in love with her. He invited them both to a
banquet, and then surprised his son by resigning to him
the lady with the following words : —
" Lo / 7ny son !
On the moor, garlic to gather,
Garlic to gather.
On the way as I went.
Pleasing of perfume
Was the ora?ige inflotver.
Its branches beneath
Men had all plundered.
Its branches above
Birds perching had withered,
Midway its branches
Held in their hiding
A blushing maiden.
Lo ! 7ny son, for thee
Let her burst into blossom^
SHINTO RITUALS 9
The Kojiki and Nihongi have preserved to us more
than tv^o hundred of these poems. Their study tends
to correct ideas such as that of Macaulay, who, doubt-
less reasoning from the nov^^ exploded premiss that
Homer is a primitive poet, argued that ^^in a rude
state of society we may expect to find the poetical
temperament in its highest perfection." Judging from
this early poetry of Japan, a want of culture by no
means acts as a stimulus to the poetic faculty. We
nowhere find '^the agony, the ecstasy, the plenitude of
belief," which Macaulay would have us look for in this
product of an age and country which were certainly
far less advanced than those of Homer in intellectual
culture. Instead of passion, sublimity, and a vigorous
imagination, we have little more than mild sentiment,
word-plays, and pretty conceits. Moreover, a suspicion
will not be banished that even for such poetical qualities
as they possess, these poems are in some degree indebted
to the inspiration of China. Of this, however, I cannot
offer any definite proof.
Shinto Rituals.
The prose of the Archaic period is represented by a
series of Norito,i or prayers to the deities of the Shinto
religion, which were recited with much ceremony by
the Nakatomi, a hereditary corporation of court ofBcials
whose especial function it was to represent the Mikado in
his capacity of high priest of the nation. Their precise
date and authorship are unknown. In their essence they
are no doubt of very great antiquity, but there is reason
1 Vide Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan^ March 1879, &c., for
a translation of some of these by Sir Ernest Satow.
lo JAPANESE LITERATURE
to believe that they did not assume their present form|
until the seventh century, some of them perhaps even later
The Norito are not known to have been committed t
writing before the period Yengi (901-923), when the pre
paration was begun of the work entitled Yengishiki or
^^ Institutes of Yengi/' a collection of the ceremonial
regulations in force at this time. The Yengishiki enume-
rates seventy-five of these prayers, and gives the text of
twenty-seven, which, no doubt, comprise all the most
important. There are prayers for a good harvest, de-
precating fire and pestilence, invoking blessings on the
palace, services in honour of the Food Goddess, the
Wind Deities, and so on. The most famous of all is
the Oharai or General Purification Service. It is not
devoid of literary quality, as the following translation
may perhaps indicate. The other Norito which I have
read are much inferior in merit.
"Give ear, all ye Imperial Princes, Min.'sters of State,
and high functionaries, who are here assembled, and
hearken to the great purification by which at this inter-
lune of the sixth month are purged and washed away all;
sins which may have been committed by Imperial officials
and attendants — whether they wear the scarf [women] or
the shoulder strap [stewards] ; whether they bear on their
back the bow, or gird on them the sword.
" Of yore, our Imperial ancestors who dwell in the plain
of high heaven, summoned to an assembly the eight
hundred myriads of deities, and held divine counsel
with them. And they gave command, saying, ' Let our
August Grandchild hold serene rule over the land of fair
rice-ears — the fertile reed-plain.' But in the land thus
delivered to him there were savage deities. These they
chastised with a divine chastisement, and expelled with a
SHINTO RITUALS ii
divine expulsion. Moreover, the rocks, trees, and leaves
of grass which had the power of speech, were silenced.
Then they despatched him downward from his celestial,
everlasting throne, cleaving as he went with an awful
way-cleaving the many-piled clouds of heaven. Here
at the middle point of the land entrusted to him — in
Yamato, the High Sun Land — the August Grandchild
established his peaceful rule and built a fair palace,
basing deep on the nethermost rock the massy pillars,
and upraising to high heaven the timbers of the roof
wherewithal to shelter him from sun and sky.
^^ Now, of the various offences to be committed by the
celestial race destined more and more to people this land
of peaceful rule, some are of heaven and others of earth.
Heavenly offences are the breaking down of divisions
between rice-fields, filling up of water-courses, removing
water-pipes, flaying alive, flaying backwards. . . . Earthly
offences are the cutting of living bodies, the cutting of
dead bodies, leprosy, incest, calamities from creeping
things, from the high gods and from high birds, killing
of cattle, bewitchments.
^' Whensoever these offences are committed, for com-
mitted they will be, let the great Nakatomi clip heavenly
twigs at the top and clip them at the bottom, making
thereof a complete array of one thousand stands for
offerings. Having trimmed rushes of heaven at the top
and trimmed them at the bottom, let them split them
into a manifold brush. Then let them recite this great
liturgy.
" When they do so, the gods of heaven, thrusting open
the adamantine doors of heaven and cleaving the many-
piled clouds of heaven with an awful way-cleaving, will
approach and lend ear. The gods of earth, ascending
12 JAPANESE LITERATURE
to the tops of the high mountains and the tops of
low mountains, sweeping aside the mists of the high
mountains and the mists of the low mountains, will
approach and lend ear.
"Then shall no offences remain unpurged, from the
court of the august child of the gods even to the remotest
ends of the realm. As the many-piled clouds of heaven
are scattered at the breath of the Wind Gods ; as the
morning breezes and the evening breezes disperse the
morning vapours and the evening vapours ; as a huge
ship moored in a great harbour, casting off its stern
moorings, casting off its bow moorings, drives forth into
the vast ocean ; as yonder thick brushwood is smitten
and cleared away by the sharp sickle forged in the fire —
so shall all offences be swept utterly away. To purge
and purify them, let the goddess Seoritsu-hime, who
dwells in the rapids of the swift stream whose cataracts
tumble headlong from the high mountains and from the
low mountains, bear them out into the great sea plain.
There let the goddess Haya-akitsu-hime, who dwells in
the myriad ways of the tides of the raging sea, and in
the myriad meeting-places of the tides of the myriad
sea paths, swallow them up, and let the god Ibukido
Nushi [the master of the spurting-out place], who dwells
in Ibukido, spurt them out away to the nether region.
Then let the goddess Haya-sasura-hime, who dwells in
the nether region, dissolve and destroy them.
"They are now destroyed, and all, from the servants
of the Imperial court down to the people in the four
quarters of the realm, are from this day forth void of
offence.
" Attend, all of you, with ears pricked up to the plain of
high heaven, to this great purification by which, on this
SHINTO RITUALS 13
interlune of the sixth month as the sun goes down, your
offences are purged and purified."
The Norito, although prose, are in some respects
more poetical than much of the contemporary poetry.
This is not the place to discuss the general question
whether literature begins with prose or poetry. It may
be noted, however, that the earliest Japanese literature
presents two imperfectly differentiated types — a poetry
which in metrical form, thought, and diction, is not far
removed from prose ; and prose compositions which
contain an appreciable element of poetry.
BOOK THE SECOND
NARA PERIOD (EIGHTH CENTURY)
BOOK THE SECOND
NARA PERIOD "^ (EIGHTH CENTURY)
CHAPTER I
PROSE OF THE NARA PERIOD— THE "KOJH^I"
Strictly speaking, this period begins a.d. 710, when
Nara was made the seat of the Mikado's government, and
ends A.D. 794, when the capital was removed to Nagaoka,
in the province of Yamashiro, a site which was aban-
doned a few years later for that of the existing city of
Kioto. For the present purpose it is sufficiently accu-
rate to make the Nara period coincide with the eighth
century.
With the establishment of the capital at Nara, the
old system by which every Mikado built himself a new
palace in a fresh locality was discontinued. This was
not only in itself an important progressive measure,
but it was an evidence of the advance in civilisation
which had been made during the previous two centuries.
Under the influence of Chinese political ideas, the
^ I have followed the convenient Japanese practice of calling the periods of
history by the names of the places which were the seat of government at the
time.
'7 B
1 8 JAPANESE LITERATURE
authority of the crown had become greatly extended, the
power of the hereditary local chieftains broken, and a
system of government instituted under prefects who held
office subject to the control of the central authority.
Learning, by which in Japan is, or rather was, meant the
study of the masterpieces of Chinese antiquity, had made
great progress. The Mikado Tenchi (662-671) estabhshed
schools, and we hear later of a university under govern-
ment auspices which comprised four faculties, viz.,
history, the Chinese classics, law, and arithmetic.
This, it should be observed, was for the benefit of the
official classes only. It was not until many centuries
later that education reached the common people. There
were also teachers (mostly Coreans) of painting, medicine,
and the glyptic arts. The colossal bronze statue of
Buddha and some remarkable sculptures in wood which
are still to be seen at Nara, testify to the skill which the
Japanese had then acquired in the last-named arts.
Of even greater importance was the advance in the art
of architecture. This was intimately associated with
Buddhism, a cult which demanded stately temples and
pagodas for its due exercise. The increased authority of
the court also required edifices more befitting its dignity
and more in consonance with the gorgeous costumes
and ceremonial adopted from China than the old one-
reign palaces.
The first written book which has come down to us in
the Japanese, or indeed in any Turanian tongue, is the
Kojiki^ or "Records of Ancient Matters," which was
completed a.d. 712. It contains the early traditions of
the Japanese race, beginning with the myths which form
^ Translated by B. H. Chamberlain in the Transactions of the Asiatic
Society of Japan, 1882; vol. x., Supplement.
KOJIKI 19
the basis of the Shinto religion, and acquiring more and
more of a historical character as it proceeds, until it
comes to a close in a.d. 628.
I The Kojikiy however valuable it may be for research
into the mythology, the manners, the language, and the
legends of early Japan, is a very poor production, whether
we consider it as literature or as a record of facts. As
history it cannot compare with the Niliongi, a contem-
porary work in Chinese ; while the language is a strange
mixture of Chinese and Japanese, which there has been
little attempt to endue with artistic quality. The circum-
stances under which it was composed are a partial
explanation of the very curious style in which it is
written. We are told that a man named Yasumaro,
learned in Chinese, took it down from the lips of a
certain Hiyeda no Are, who had such a wonderful
memory that he *' could repeat with his mouth whatever
was placed before his eyes, and record in his heart what-
ever struck his ears." Yasumaro's task was not an easy
one. He himself in his preface describes his embarrass-
ment. The phonetic syllabaries, known as the Katagana
and Hirakana, which correspond to our alphabet, had
not then been invented. The only choice open to him
was to use the Chinese ideographic symbols, giving them
their proper meaning and construction — in other words,
to write pure Chinese — or to make each Chinese character
represent merely the sound associated with it regardless
of its meaning. The result of this latter course would
be a Japanese text.
By the former method it was impossible to write down
Japanese poetry, proper names, and a quantity of phrases
and expressions for which there existed no adequate
Chinese equivalent ; while if a separate Chinese character
20 JAPANESE LITERATURE
had to be used for every syllable of the polysyllabic
Japanese words, a prolixity intolerable to a mind formed
by Chinese study would be the result. In this dilemma
Yasumaro resorted to a compromise, and mixed up the
two systems in a way which is fatal to style. Even in
the same sentence we often find a purely Japanese con
struction interrupted by a phrase which it is impossible
to consider as anything but clumsy Chinese ; while, vice
versa, his Chinese contains expressions not to be under
stood without a knowledge of Japanese.
At the time of the compilation of the Kojiki there
existed at the court of Nara a hereditary corporation of
Kataribe or "reciters," whose function it was to recite
"ancient words" before the Mikado on certain solemn
State occasions, such as the beginning of a new reign.
Even if Yasumaro's informant was not himself a member
of this order, he must have been well acquainted with
the matter of their recitals, and there can be little doubt
that the myths, legends, and quasi-history of the Kojiki
were drawn from this source. There is no reason what
ever to believe that the recitations of the Kataribe were
anything but prose. We are in possession of a consider
able body of poetry belonging to this period, but none
of it takes the form of narrative. It consists of lyrics,
not ballads, and yields no material for history, whether
true or otherwise. The annals of Japanese literature
therefore give no countenance to Macaulay's theory that
in the natural course of things history is preceded by
ballad poetry. So far from its being true of Japan, a
directly opposite process is observable. At a later period,
history showed some tendency to develop into poetry.
It began to be treated in an ornate, romantic fashion,
and with some imperfect endeavour after metrical form.
KOJIKI 2 1
The motley character of the language of the Kojiki
of course disappears in a translation, but the following
passage may give some idea of the sort of legends which
form the staple of the earlier part of the work. The
student of folk-lore will recognise in it one of the
numerous variants of what in its Greek form is the
story of Perseus and Andromeda.
The god Haya-Susa no wo, having been banished from
heaven for his misdeeds, descends to earth and alights
on the bank of a river in the province of Idzumo. He
observes a chopstick floating down with the current : —
^^ His Augustness Haya-Susa no wo, thinking that there
must be people living farther up the stream, went in
quest of them, and found an old man and an old woman
weeping, with a young maiden set between them. He
asked of them, ^ Who are ye ? ' The old man replied,
*Thy servant is a deity of earth, and his name is
Ashinadzuchi, son of the great God of the Mountain.
My wife's name is Tenadzuchi, and my daughter is called
Kushinada hime.' He further inquired, *■ Why weep
ye ? ' He answered, saying, ^ I have had eight children,
girls ; but the eight-forked serpent of Koshi came year
after year and devoured them. It is now the time of its
coming, and therefore do we weep.' ^ Describe to me
this serpent,' said Haya-Susa no wo. ^ Its eyes are as
red as the winter cherry. It has one body with eight
heads and eight tails. Moreover, its body is overgrown
with moss, pines, and cedars. Its length extends over
eight valleys and eight hills. Its belly is always all
bloody and inflamed to look upon.' Then his August-
ness Haya-Susa no wo said to the old man, *• If this be thy
daughter, wilt thou give her unto me ? ' ^ With reverence
be it said,' replied the old man, ^ I know not thy honour-
2 2 JAPANESE LITERATURE
able name.' ^ I am the elder brother of the Sun Goddess
and have now come down from heaven/ replied Susa
no wo. Then the deities Ashinadzuchi and Tenadzuchi
said, ^ In that case, with reverence we offer her to thee
Haya-Susa no wo straightway took that young maiden
and changed her into a many-toothed comb, which he
stuck into his hair, and said to the deities Ashinadzuchi
and Tenadzuchi, ^ Do ye brew some sake of eight-fold
strength. Also make a fence round about, and in thai
fence let there be eight doors, at each door let there b
eight stands, on each stand let there be a sake-tub, and
let each sake-tub be filled with the sake of eight-folc
strength. Then wait.' So having prepared everything
in accordance with his august bidding, they waited
Then the eight-forked serpent came, indeed, as had been
said, and bending down one head into each of the tubs,
lapped up the sake. Hereupon it became drunken, anc
all the heads lay down to sleep, when straightway Haya-
Susa no wo drew his ten-span sword from his girdle anc
slew the serpent, so that the river had its curren
changed to blood. Now, when he cut the middle part
of the tail the edge of his august sword was broken,
Wondering at this, he pierced it and split it open, when
he found that within there was a great sharp sword. He
took this sword, and thinking it a wonderful thing
reported his discovery to the Sun Goddess, This is the
great sword Kusanagi (Herb-queller)."
In the early part of the eighth century the Japanese
Government gave orders for the compilation of geogra-
phical descriptions of all the provinces. The mineral
vegetable, and animal productions were to be notedj
with the quality of the soil, the origin of the names of
places, and the local traditions. Of these works only a
TOPOGRAPHY 23
few have reached us, the best known of which is the
Idzumo Fudokiy written in 733. It contains a very few
interesting legendary passages, but as a whole it consists
of bald statements of fact, and must be classed with
Charles Lamb's Biblia Abiblia or ^* Books that are No
Books." It was the forerunner of the very considerable
modern topographical literature known to us as Meisho.
The only other Japanese prose compositions of this
time which need be noticed are the Imperial Edicts con-
tained in the Shoku-7tihongiy a continuation (in Chinese)
of the Nihongi, Their style much resembles that of the
Norito, Motoori has edited them in a separate form
with a commentary.
f
CHAPTER II
JAPANESE POETRY GENERALLY—
THE "MANYOSHIU"
Before proceeding to an examination of the Nara
poetry, it seems desirable to give an account of those
characteristics of Japanese poetry generally which dis-
tinguish it in a conspicuous manner from that of Europe.
Narrow in its scope and resources, it is chiefly remark-
able for its limitations — for what it has not, rather than
for what it has. In the first place there are no long
poems. There is nothing which even remotely resembles
an epic — no Iliad or Divina Commedia — not even a
Nibelungen Lied or Chevy Chase. Indeed, narrative
poems of any kind are short and very few, the only ones
which I have met with being two or three ballads of a
sentimental cast. Didactic, philosophical, political, and
satirical poems are also conspicuously absent. The
Japanese muse does not meddle with such subjects, and
it is doubtful whether, if it did, the native Pegasus
possesses sufficient staying power for them to be dealt
with adequately. For dramatic poetry we have to wait
until the fourteenth century. Even then there are no
complete dramatic poems, but only dramas containing
a certain poetical element.
Japanese poetry is, in short, confined to lyrics, and what,
POETRY 25
for want of a better word, may be called epigrams. It is
primarily an expression of emotion. We have amatory
verse, poems of longing for home and absent dear ones,
praise of love and wine, elegies on the dead, laments over
the uncertainty of life. A chief place is given to the
beauties of external nature. The varying aspects of the
seasons, the sound of purhng streams, the snow on
Mount Fuji, waves breaking on the beach, seaweed drift-
ing to the shore, the song of birds, the hum of insects,
even the croaking of frogs, the leaping of trout in a
mountain stream, the young shoots of the fern in spring,
the belling of deer in autumn, the red tints of the maple,
moon, flowers, rain, wind, mist, these are among the
favourite subjects which the Japanese poet delights to
dwell upon. If we add some courtly and patriotic
effusions, a vast number of conceits more or less pretty,
and a very few poems of a religious cast, the enumera-
tion is tolerably complete. But, as Mr. Chamberlain
has observed, there are curious omissions. Sunsets and
starry skies, for example, do not appear to have attracted
attention. War-songs, strange to say, are almost wholly
absent. Fighting and bloodshed are apparently not
considered fit themes for poetry.
It is not only in its form and subject-matter that
Japanese poetry is limited in its scope. The modern
poet of Europe makes free use of the works of the
Greek and Roman poets as models and as storehouses
of poetic imagery. Much of his very language comes
from the same source. But the poets of Japan have
deliberately refrained from utilising in this way the only
literature which was known to them. That their refine-
ment of language and choice of subjects are in some
measure due to an acquaintance with the ancient litera-
26 JAPANESE LITERATURE
ture of China is hardly open to question, but they allow
few outward signs of it to appear. Allusions to Chinese
literature and history, although not wholly absent, are
unfrequent, and the use of Chinese words is strictly
tabooed in all poetry of the classical type. There was a
substantial reason for this prohibition. The phonetic
character of the two languages is quite different. Chinese
is monosyllabic ; Japanese as polysyllabic as English. A
Chinese syllable has far more complication and variety
than those of Japanese words. It may have diphthongs,
combinations of consonants and final consonants, none
of which are to be found in Japanese, where every
syllable consists of a single vowel or of a single con-
sonant followed by a single vowel. It is true that the
Japanese, in adopting Chinese vocables, modify them
to suit their own phonetic system. But the process of
assimilation is incomplete. The two elements harmonise
no better than brick and stone in the same building. It
was most natural, therefore, for the Japanese to refuse
these half-naturalised aliens admission to the sacred pre-
cincts of their national poetry, although by so doing they
sacrificed much in fulness and variety of expression, and
deprived themselves of a copious store of illustration
and allusion to which their prose writers resort even too
freely.
The acknowledged euphony and ease of pronuncia
tion of the Japanese language is greatly owing to that
property of the syllable which has just been described
Even a reader who knows no Japanese may appreciate
the euphonic quality of the following : —
POETRY 27
" Idete inaba
Nushi naki yado to
Narinu tomo
Nokiba no u?ne yo
Haru wo wasuruna.'' ^
But it is at the same time a source of weakness. It
makes smooth versification almost a matter of course,
but it also renders impossible much variety or force of
rhythm. The Japanese poet can hardly do otherwise
than obey Pope's precept : —
" Then all your Muse's softer art display^
Let Carolina smooth the tuneful lay^
Lull with AmelicLS liquid name the line^^
The whole language is composed of words made up,
like Carolina and Amelia, of syllables with open vowels
preceded by single consonants or none. Nor is he
under any temptation to
" Rend with tremendous sound your ears asunder
With gun^ drmn^ trufnpet, blunderbuss, and thunderJ^
His phonetic resources simply will not admit of it.
Pope further advises that
" When loud surges lash the sounding shore.
The hoarse rough verse should like a torrent roar.
When Ajax strives some rock^s vast weight to throw,
The line too labours and the words move slow."
^ The initial i of inaba is elided.
Translation : —
*' When I am gone azvay,
Masterless my dwelling
Though it become —
Oh ! plum tree by the eaves,
Forget not thou the spring."
28 JAPANESE LITERATURE
But it is vain for the Japanese poet to strive to adopt
this counsel. With a language like the old Japanese it
is only within the narrowest Hmits that it is possible to
make the sound an echo to the sense. It is probably in
some measure to the want of variety of rhythm which
results from this quality that the preference of the
national genius for short poems is due.
The mechanism of Japanese verse is simple in the
extreme. Unlike Chinese, it has no rhyme, a want which
is plainly owing to the nature of the Japanese syllable
described above. As every syllable ends in a vowel,
and as there are only five vowels, there could only be
five rhymes, the constant reiteration of which would be
intolerably monotonous.
In the Japanese poetical language all the vowels are
of the same length, so that quantity, such as we find
in the poetry of Greece and Rome, is unknown. Nor
is there any regular succession of accented and un-
accented syllables as in the poetry of modern Europe, the
Japanese laying hardly any greater stress on one part of
a word than on another. In short, the only thing in
the mechanism of Japanese poetry which distinguishes
it from prose is the alternation of phrases of five and
seven syllables each. It is, in fact, a species of blank
verse.
Some Japanese critics seem to think that the numbers
five and seven were suggested by the Chinese Book of
odes, where many of the poems consist of lines of five,
and others of lines of seven syllables. This does not
seem very probable.
The best known metre constructed on this principle is
what is known as ^^ Tanka " or '^ short poems." When
poetry is spoken of in Japan it is usually this kind of
POETRY 29
verse which is meant. It consists of five phrases or
lines of 5, 7, 5, 7, and 7 syllables — 31 syllables in all.^
Each of these stanzas constitutes an entire poem. The
Tanka is the most universal and characteristic of the
various forms of poetry in Japan. The oldest examples
date back to the seventh century, or possibly earlier.
Ever since there has been a continual and copious
stream of this kind of composition. Even at the present
day the Mikado gives out themes at the New Year for
his courtiers to show their skill upon, and the pages of
the magazines give evidence that Tanka are still produced
in considerable quantity.
It may be thought that in the compass of 31 syllables,
and with the other limitations to which the poet in Japan
is subject, nothing of much value can be the result.
This, however, is far from being the case. Although no
great qualities can be claimed for the Tanka, it must be
admitted that the Japanese poets have made the most of
their slender resources. It is wonderful what felicity of
phrase, melody of versification, and true sentiment can
be compressed within these narrow limits. In their way
nothing can be more perfect than some of these little
poems. They remind us of those tiny carvings known
to us as Netsuke, in which exquisite skill of workmanship
is displayed in fashioning figures an inch or two in
height, or of those sketches where the Japanese artist has
managed to produce a truly admirable effect by a few
dexterous strokes of the brush.
Next to the Tanka, the most common kind of classical
metre is the Naga-uta or ^^ long poetry." The Naga-uta
has the same alternation of five and seven syllable
phrases, with an additional fine of seven syllables at the
^ See specimen on page 27.
30 JAPANESE LITERATURE
end, as the Tanka, and only differs from it in having no
limit in regard to length.
Some of the best poetry which Japan has produced is
in this metre. But it has never been a great favourite,
and after the Nara period was almost completely
neglected, the preference of the national genius being
evidently for the shorter kind of verse.
Notwithstanding the name, Naga-uta are by no means
long poems. Few of them are nearly so long as
" Locksley Hall," and the majority are effusions of a few
dozen lines only.
A feature which strikingly distinguishes the Japanese
poetic muse from that of Western nations is a certain
lack of imaginative power. The Japanese are slow to
endow inanimate objects with life. Shelley's " Cloud,"
for example, contains enough matter of this kind for
many volumes of Japanese verse. Such lines as
" From my wi7igs are shaken
The dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest
On their mother's breast
As she dances about the sun"
would appear to them ridiculously overcharged with
metaphor, iff not absolutely unintelligible. Still more
foreign to their genius is the personification of abstract
qualities. Abstract words are comparatively few, and it
does not occur to the Japanese poet (or painter) to
represent Truth, Justice, and Faith as comely damsels
in flowing robes, or to make Love a chubby naked boy
with wings and a bow and arrows. Muses, Graces,
Virtues, Furies — in short, the host of personifications
POETRY 3 1
without which Western poetry would be only a shadow
of itself — have little counterpart in Japanese literature.
This impersonal habit of the Japanese mind is shared
by them with other races of the Far East, notably China.
It is not confined to poetry, or even to literature, but is
profoundly characteristic of their whole mental attitude,
showing itself in their grammar, which is most sparing of
personal pronouns ; in their art, which has no school of
portrait-painting or monumental sculpture worth men-
tioning ; in the late and imperfect development of the
drama ; and in their religious temper, with its strong
bent towards rationalism, and its hazy recognition of a
ruling personal power in the universe. To their minds
things happen, rather than are done ; the tides of fate are
far more real to them than the strong will and the
endeavour which wrestles with them. The significance
of this fact in regard to the moral and psychological
development of these races may be left to others to
determine. It is sufficient here to note its influence on
the literature, and especially on the poetry.
Some rhetorical devices which are peculiar to Japanese
poetry require a brief notice. One of these is the Makura-
Kotoba, or ^^pillow-word" as it is called, because it
usually stands at the beginning of the verse, serving, as
it were, as a pillow upon which it rests. The Makura-
Kotoba is a stock conventional epithet prefixed to certain
words something after the fashion of Homer's ^^swift-
footed " Achilles or " many-fountained " Ida. These
words are survivals from a very archaic stage of the
language, and the meaning of some of them is now
extremely doubtful, a circumstance which forms no
obstacle whatever to their continued use. Others are
still intelligible and appropriate enough, such as the
32 JAPANESE LITERATURE
"house-bird" cock, the "rain-enshrouded" Mount M
kasa, the "ever-firm" heaven, "morning-mist" thought
wandering. But even although a Makura-Kotoba ma^
be sufficiently apt if it is rightly applied, some Japanese
poets take a perverse pleasure in wresting it from its
proper sense in a way which to us is nothing short
of ludicrous. " Whale-catching," for example, may pass
as an epithet of the sea. But what shall we say of th
poet who uses it as a prefix to the inland sea of Omi,
now called Lake Biwa, where, needless to observe, whales
are an unknown phenomenon ? " Creeper-clad " is well
enough as an epithet of a rock, but it tries one's patience
a little to find it applied to the province of Iwami, simply
because Iwa means rock.
From the versifier's point of view the Makura-Kotoba
is a very useful institution. It consists almost invariably
of five syllables, and therefore supplies him without any
trouble with a first line ready made, no unimportant con
sideration when the entire poem consists of only thirty-
one syllables. These epithets are several hundreds in
number, and are collected into dictionaries which serve
the purpose of a Gradus ad Parnasstun. They are most
useful in a country where the composition of Tanka has
been for centuries little more than a mere mechanic art.
Another trick of the Japanese poet is what Mr. Cham
berlain^ has aptly termed "pivot-words." In these 2
word or part of a word is used in two senses, one with
what precedes, the other with what follows. Thackeray
has something of the kind in The NewcomeSj where he
speaks of the tea-pot presented to Mr. Honeyman by the
devotees attending his chapel as the " devotea-pot."
Here the syllable "tea" is contrived a double debt to
^ In his Classical Poetry of the Japanese.
POETRY 33
pay. It represents at the same time the final syllable of
" devotee " and the first syllable of " tea-pot." Perhaps a
better example is the following from Butler's Hudibras :
" That old Pyg—what d^ye call him — malion^
Who cut his inistress out of stone ^
Had not so hard a hearted one"
'* What is this but a kind of pun ? " the reader will not
unnaturally say. Yet it would be hardly fair to stigma-
tise WiQSQjeux de mots as puns. They are meant not to
provoke laughter, but as ornament, and the effect is
sometimes not unpleasing.
At its best, however, the ^' pivot " word is an ornament
of doubtful taste, and poets of the classical period indulge
in this figure of speech but sparingly. More remains to
be said of it when we come to the dramatists of a later
age, who have used it in an extravagant, and, at least to
us Europeans, exasperating manner.
Parallelism, or the correspondence between each word
of two successive lines or clauses, noun for noun and
verb for verb, is an occasional ornament of Japanese,
as it is of Chinese poetry. It is familiar to us in the
Psalms of David, and is a favourite with Longfellow,
whose Hiawatha contains numerous such pairs of parallel
lines, as —
" Filled the marshes ftdl of wild-fowl^
Filled the river full of fishes."
Some Japanese examples of this, figure will be found in
the poems quoted on page 37.
Nara Poetry
While the eighth century has left us little or no prose
literature of importance, it was emphatically the golden
age of poetry. Japan had now outgrown the artless
c
34 JAPANESE LITERATURE
effusions described in a preceding chapter, and durin
this period produced a body of verse of an excellenci
which has never since been surpassed. The reader wh(
expects to find this poetry of a nation just emerging fron
the barbaric stage of culture characterised by rude, un
tutored vigour, will be surprised to learn that, on th
contrary, it is distinguished by polish rather than power
It is delicate in sentiment and refined in language, anc
displays exquisite skill of phrase with a careful adherence
to certain canons of composition of its own.
The poetry of this and the following period was writte
by and for a very small section of the Japanese nation
The authors, many of them women, were either mem
bers of the Mikado's court, or officials temporari
stationed in the provinces, but looking to the capi
tal as their home. We hear nothing of any popula:
poetry. On the other hand, the faculty of writing versi
was universal among the higher classes. Nearly ever
educated man and woman could indite a Tanka upor
occasion. There were no voluminous writers. It wa
not the custom to publish the poems of individua
authors separately. Had it been so, very thin volume}
indeed would have been the result. Collections wer
made at intervals by Imperial authority, in which th
choice poems of the preceding period were brought to
gether, and if twenty or thirty Tanka of one poet foun
a place there, it was sufficient to give him or her a dis
tinguished position among the multitude of contributors
The poetry of the Nara period has been preserved tc
us in one of these anthologies, known as the Manydshiu
or " Collection of One Thousand Leaves." According tc
the usual account, it was completed early in the nintl
century. The poems contained in it belong chiefly tc
MANYOSHIU 3 5
the latter half of the seventh and the first half of the
eighth century of the Christian era, and cover a period
of about 130 years. They are classified as follows :
poems of the four seasons ; poems of the affections ;
elegiac, allegorical, and miscellaneous poems. They
number in all more than 4000 pieces, of which the great
majority are Tanka, or short poems of thirty-one syllables.
The remainder are for the most part Naga-uta or so-
called " long poems." As for the authors, their name is
legion. Among them, however, two poets stand out with
some degree of eminence — viz., Hitomaro and Akahito.
The former flourished at the end of the seventh century,
the latter in the reign of Shomu (724-756). Little is
known of either, further than that they were officials of
the Mikado's court, and attended him on some of his
progresses through the provinces.
The Riakuge edition of the Manyoshiu in thirty
volumes, which was formerly the best, has now been
totally eclipsed and superseded by the magnificent Man-
yoshiu Kogiy recently published under official auspices.
It extends to 122 volumes, and contains everything (and
more) in the way of commentary and indexes that the
most ardent student can desire. The print is admirable,
and the text a great improvement on that of the Riakuge
edition.
The following translations, inadequate as they are, may
help to give some idea of the character of the Manyoshiu
poetry. The first specimen is by Hitomaro. It is an
elegy on Prince Hinami, son of the Mikado Temmu,
who died a.d. 687, before succeeding to the throne.
The poet begins by relating the appointment, at a
council of the gods, of the deity Ninigi no Mikoto as the
first divine sovereign of Japan. In the second part
36 JAPANESE LITERATURE
allusion is made to the death of the late Mikado ; while
in the third the poet gives expression to the disappoint-
ment of the nation that Prince Hinami did not live to
succeed him, and laments the loneliness of his tomb,
which he represents as a palace where the Prince dwells
in silence and solitude.
" When began the earth and heaven^
By the margin of the River
Of the firmament eternal^
Met the Gods in high assembly^
Met the gods a?id held high counsel^
Myriads upon myriads gathered.
Then to each high charge was given;
On the Goddess of the Sunlight^
Her who fills the sky with radiance^
They bestowed the realm of Heaven.
To her grandchild they delivered
This, the la?id of Ashihara,
This, the land of fairest rice-ears,
His with god-like sway to govern,
Long as heaven and earth endured.
Dow?tward sped, he swept asunder
Heaven! s clouds, the many-piled,
Earthward gloriously descending.
In the Palace of Kiyomi,
The great seat of power Imperial,
God- like ruled his true descendant.
The august High- shining- sun- Prince,
Till he rose on high divinely.
Flinging wide the gates eternal
On the plain of heaven that open.
Mighty Prince, if thou hadst deigned
This sublu7tar world to govern.
Thou hadst been to all thy people
Dear as are the flowers in spi'ing-time,
As the full moon, soul- contenting.
As in a great ship the seaman.
So our trust in thee we rested;
MANYOSHIU 37
As the welcome rain from heaven^
All the nation did await thee.
Thou hast chosen — why we know not —
By the hill of lone Mayumi
There to raise the massy pillars^
There to build a lofty palace^
But at ?norn thy voice is heard not;
Months and days have passed in silence^
Till thy servants^ sad and weary,
Have departed, none kfiows whither"
The next specimen is also by Hitomaro. It is an elegy
on a lady of the court.
" In her face were the tints of the autujnn woods.
Buxom was her form as the graceful bamboo.
Unknown to us are her thoughts of the future;
We hoped for her a cable- long life,
Not transitory like the dew which falls at morn
And vanishes before evening,
Or the mist which rises at even
And is dispersed in the morning.
Even we, who knew her by report —
We, who had seen her but by glimpses.
Are filled with deep regret.
What then must be the sorrow
Of her youthfu I spouse
Who shared her couch —
Their white arms interlaced for pillows ?
Desolate indeed must be his thoughts as he lies down.
Despairing must be his longings for her.
Ah me ! she who has passed away fro7n us
By so untimely a fate,
Did indeed resemble the morning dews
Or the mists of evening."
The following illustrates the Japanese poet's use of
parallelism. It is dated a.d. 744.
" By the Palace of Futagi,
Where our great king
And divine lord
Holds high rule,
38 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Gentle is the rise of the hills ^
Bearing hundreds of trees ;
Pleasant is the 7nurmur of the rapids
As downward they rush.
So long as in the spring-time
( When the nightingale comes and sings)
On the rocks
Brocade-like flowers blossom^
Brightening the moimtainfoot ;
So long as in the autumn
( When the stag calls to his mate)
The red leaves fall hither and thither^
Wounded by the showers.
The heaven be-clouding —
For many thousand years
May his life be prolonged.
To rule over all under heaven
In the great palace
Destined to remain unchanged
For hundreds of ages?''
In Praise of Japan
" The land of Yamato
Has mountains in numbers,
But peerless among thetn
Is high Kaguyama.
I stand 071 its sumrnit
My kingdom to view.
The smoke from the land-plain
Thick rises in air.
The gulls from the sea-plain
By fits soar aloft.
O land of Yamato !
Fair Akitsushima !
Dear art tJiou to 7ne?^
MANYOSHIU
The Legend of Urashima
39
This is one of the most ancient and popular of Japanese
legends. In its original version it is much older than
the Manydshiu.
" On a hazy day in spring
I went forth and stood upon the beach of Suminoye ;
And as 1 watched the fishing-boats rock to andfro^
I bethought me of the tale of old.
How Urashima of Midzunoye,
Proud of his skill in catching the bonito and the tai.
Did not returti even for seven days.
But roived on beyond the bounds of ocean^
Where with a daughter of the Sea God
It was his fortune to meet as he rowed onwards.
When, after mutual courtship, they had come to an understanding.
They pliglt ted their troths, and went to the immortal land.
Hand in ha?td they two entered
Into a stately ?nansion withi?t the precincts
Of the Palace of the Sea God.
Here he might have dwelt for ever.
Never growing old, and never dying.
But the foolish man of this world
Thus addressed his spouse :
' For a little while I would return home
And speak to my father and my mother;
To-morrow I will co7ne again. '
Thus he spake, and his wife replied :
* If thou art to return again to the i?n?nortal lana
And live with me as now,
Beware how thou o^enest this casket.^
Strongly did she enjoin this on hi?n.
But havijig returned to Suminoye,
Though he looked for his house, no house could he see;
Though he looked for the village, no village could he see.
Wondering at this, the thought occurred to him :
' In the space of three years, since I left 7ny home,
^ The horizon.
40 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Can my home have vanished^ leaving not even the fence f
Were I now to open this casket^
Might it not appear as before ? '
So saying^ he opened a little the precious casket^
Whereupon a white cloud issued from it
And spread away towards the inwiortal land.
He ran, he shouted, he waved his sleeves,
He writhed upon the earth, and ground his feet together.
Of a sudden his heart melted away j
Wrinkles covered his body, that had been so youthful ;
His hair, that had been so black, becajne white.
By-and-by his breath also failed ;
At last his life departed.
And, lo ! here once stood the cottage
Of Urashima of Midzunoye."
Like most Naga-uta, the above is followed by a thirty-
one syllable poem known as a Hanka. The Hanka
sometimes echoes the principal idea of the poem which
precedes, and is at others employed as a sort of poetical
save-all to utilise any stray scrap of thought or imagery
which it may not have been convenient to include in
the principal poem. Some Naga-uta have several Hanka
appended to them.
Hanka
" In the imjnortal land
He might have gone on to dwell ;
But by his nature
How dull was he, this wight I "
The authors of the two following lyrics are unnamed.
Mount Fuji (Fujiyama)
" Where on the one hand is the province of Kai,
And on the other the land of Suruga,
Right in the midst between them
Stands out the high peak of Fuji.
The very clouds of heaven dread to approach it ;
Even the soaring birds reach not its sujnmit in their flight.
MANYOSHIU 41
Its burning fire is quenched by the snow;
The snow that falls is melted by the fire.
No words may tell of it, no name know I that is fit for it.
But a wondrous deity it surely is /
That lake we call the Sea of Se
Is contained within it;
That river which men, as they cross it, call the Fuji
Is the water which flows down from it;
Of Yamato, the Land of Sunrise,
It is the peace-giver, it is the god, it is the treasure.
On the peak of Fuji, in the land of Suruga,
I never weary of gazing."
Poverty
The following is exceptional, as giving a glimpse of
the condition of the poorer classes. It contains lines in
which Buddhist influence is traceable.
" ^Tis night : mingled with the storm the rain is falling;
Mingled with the rain the snow is falling.
So cold atn I, I know not what to do.
I take up and suck coarse salt [fish f]
And sip a brew of sake dregs;
I cough, I sneeze and sjieeze, I cannot help it.
I may stroke my beard, and think proudly to myself.
Who is there like me ?
But so cold am I, I pull over me the hempen coverlet.
And huddle upon me all the nuno cloaks I have got.
Yet even this chilly night
Are there not others still poorer,
■ Whose -parents are starving of cold and hunger.
Whose wife and childre7i are begging their food with tears ?
(The poet fancies himself addressing such a person.)
' At such a time how do you pass your days 1 '
(Answer.)
' Heaven and earth are wide, but for me they have become narrow ;
The sun and moon are bright, but for me they yield no radiance.
42 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Is it so with all 7nen, or with me alone ?
Born a man by the rarest of chances^
I am made in human shape like another,
Yet on 7ny shoulders 1 wear a nunc cloak void of padding^
Which hangs down in tatters like seaweed —
A mere mass of rags.
Within my hut, twisted out of shape,
Straw is strewn on the bare floor of earth.
Father and mother at my pillow.
Wife and children at my feet.
Gather round me weeping and wailing.
With voices as from the throat of the nuye bird.
For no smoke rises from the kitchen furnace.
In the pot spiders have hung their webs.
The very art of cooking is forgotten.
To crown all — cutting off the end, as the proverb has it.
Of a thing that is too short already —
Comes the head i7ian of the village with his rod.
His summons \to forced labo7ir\ penetrates to my sleeping-place.
Such helpless misery is but the way of the worlds "
It is characteristic of the difference between the
Japanese and EngHsh languages, that this poem in the
original contains only seven personal (including posses-
sive and relative) pronouns.
Some Tanka
No Edward FitzGerald has yet come to give us an
English metrical version of the best Tanka of the Manyo-
shiu and Kokinshiu. A prose rendering must serve in
the meantime. The translations correspond mostly line
for line to the original.
The following are ten of a set of thirteen Tanka com-
posed in praise of sake by Otomo-no-Yakamochi (died
785), after Hitomaro and Akahito, the most distinguished
poet of his day. This is not a very common theme of
MANYOSHIU 43
the Japanese poet, and its choice is probably due to
Chinese influence.
" Ah / how true was that saying
Of the great sage
Of the times of old^
Who gave to sakd
The name of * Sage^ "
" // was saki
That was the thing most loved,
Even by the seven wise men
Of the days of old:'
" Better than talk
That would be wise^
Were it even to drink saki
Until you weep tears
Of drunkenness :'
" More than 1 can say.
More than I can do to show it.
An exceeding noble thing
Is sakd."
^^ If it turned out
That I were aught else but man,
I would be
A sake-jar.
For then I should get soaked^"*
" Hateful in my eyes
Is the senteiitious prig
Who will 7tot drink sake'.
When I look on such a one
I find him to resemble an ape:' ^
" Talk of priceless treasures !
Can they be more precious
Than a single cup
Of thick sake?''
^ The official edition of the Manyoshiu has bestowed eight pages of com-
mentary on this last stanza.
44 JAPANESE LITERATURE
" Talk of jewels
Which shine by night!
Can they give so much pleasure
As drinking sake
To drive away on^s care ? "
" Many are the ways
Of this world' s pleasures J
But none to my mind
Is like that of getting mellow ^
Even to tearsV
" So long as in this world
I have my pleasure^
In the future existence
What care I though I become
An insect or a bird? "
Spring is a more favourite subject. The following are
by various authors : —
" On the plum blossoms
Thick fell the snow ;
I wished to gather some
To show to thee,
But it melted in my hands.^^
" The plum blossoms
Had already been scattered.
But notwithstanding
The white snow
Has fallen deep in the garden^"*
'•^ Among the hills
The snow still lies —
But the willows
Where the torrents rush together
A re in full bud^
" O thou willow
That I see every morn,
Hasten to become a thick grove
Whereto the nightingale ^
May resort and sing."
^ The bird which it is necessary in an English translation to call the nightin-
gale is not our songster, but an allied species, the Uguisu or Cettia cantans.
MANYOSHIU 45
''^Before the wind of spring
Has tangled the fine threads
Of the green willow —
Now^ I would show it
To my love.^^
" The time of the cherry blossoms
Is not yet past —
Yet now they ought to fall
Whilst the love of those who look on them
Is at its height"
''Fall gently
O thou rain of spring !
And scatter 7iot
The cherry flowers
Until I have seen them.^"*
" When I went out
Over the moor,
Where the haze was rising.
The nightingale sang ;
Spring, it seems, has come"
" My days pass in longifig,
And my heart melts
Like the hoar-frost
On the water-plants
When spring has come"
" In yearning love
I have endured till night.
But to-morroids long spring day
With its rising mists.
How shall I ever pass it ? "
It is not without some resemblance to the English bird, being of the same size,
and of a plain greyish colour. Its habits are not specially nocturnal, but
when singing it seeks the deepest shade of a bush or thicket, a condition
which the Japanese simulate by covering its cage with paper so as to produce
an artificial gloom. The repertory of the Uguisu is by no means so varied as
that of the nightingale, but for liquid melody of note it is unsurpassed by any
songster whatever. Its brief melodious utterances are no inapt emblem of the
national poetry.
46 JAPANESE LITERATURE
" My love is thick
As the herbage in spritig.
It is manifold as the waves
That heap themselves on the shore
Of the great ocean^
" No more will I plant for thee
Tall trees ^
O cuckoo ! ^
Thou comes t^ and with thy resounding cry
Dost increase my yearnings^''
" This morn at dawn
The cuckoo s cry I heard.
Didst thou hear it, my lord,
Or wast thou still asleep ? "
" / will plant for thee
A whole grove of orange-trees,
0 thou cuckoo !
Where thou mayst always dwell^
Even until the winter.^^
''''It is dawn J
1 ca?inot sleep for thoughts of her I love.
What is to be done
With this cuckoo
That goes on singing ? '''*
" Were only thy hand
Lying in mine,
What matter though men^s words
Were copious as the herbage
Of the summer i7teads."
" Since we are such things
That if we are born
We must some day die,
So long as this life lasts
Let us enjoy ourselvesP
1 The Japanese have quite different associations with the cuckoo from our-
selves. They hear in its cry the longings of unsatisfied love. It is true that
it is not the same bird as ours, but an allied species with a different note. Its
name (in Japanese, Hototogisu) is onomatopoetic.
MANYOSHIU 47
" To what shall I compare
This life of ours ?
It is like a boat
Which at daybreak rows away
Afid leaves no trace behind it.'*'' ^
"/ would go to some land
Where no cuckoos are^
I am so melancholy
When I hear
Their noter
" The rippling'^ wistaria
That I planted by my house
As a memento
Of thee whom I love^
Is at length in blossom.^'*
" When the cuckoo sang,
Straightway I drove him off.
Bidding hi7n go to you.
I wonder did he reach you ? "
" Go, thou cuckoo.
And tell my lord.
Who is too busy
To come to see me,
How 7nuch I love him?^
" Granted that I
Am hateful to you,
But the flowering orange.
That grows by ??ty dwelling,
Will you really not come to see it ? "
" / wear no clothing
Dre7iched with dew
From wending my way through the summer herbage j
But yet the sleeve offny garment
Is never for a moment dry \Jrom tears]."
^ The sentiment of this poem is Buddhist. The transiloriness of life is a
constant refrain all through Japanese literature.
^ The flowers are supposed to resemble waves.
48 JAPANESE LITERATURE
" ' Tis the sixth month.
The sun is shining,
So that the very ground is cracked j
But even so, how shall my sleeve become dry
If I never meet thee ? "
" On the spring moor
To gather violets
I went forth J
Its charm so held me
That 1 stayed^ till mornP
— Akahito.
" Oh! the misery of loving.
Hidden from the world
Like a maiden-lily
Growing amid the thick herbage
Of the stC77imer plain ! "
" The sky is a sea
Where the cloud-billows rise;
And the moon is a bark j
To the groves of the stars
It is oaring its way^
" Oh ! that the white waves far out
On the sea of Ise
Were but flowers.
That 1 7night gather them
And bring them as a gift to my love ! "
—Prince Aki, a.d. 740.
Although the Nihongi^ being in the Chinese language,
does not fall within the proper scope of this work, it
occupies so conspicuous a position among books written
in Japan, that it deserves a passing notice. In it we have
a collection of the national myths, legends, poetry, and
history from the earliest times down to A.D. 697, prepared
^ No doubt to be understood metaphorically of a visit to his love.
2 Translated by W. G. Aston in the Transactions of the fapan Society,
1896.
NlHONGl 49
under official auspices and completed A.D. 720. It is the
first of a long series of official histories in Chinese.
They are for the most part dreary compilations in which
none but students of history, anthropology, and kindred
subjects are likely to take much interest. The writers
were content to record events in their chronological
sequence from month to month and from day to day,
without any attempt to trace the connection between
them or to speculate upon their causes. The attention
to Chinese composition and studies, which the use of
this language necessitated, had, however, some important
effects. It served to engross the attention of the men,
the cultivation of the native literature being left in a
great measure to the women, and it helped to familiarise
the Japanese with better models of style than they could
find in their own country.
BOOK THE THIRD
HEIAN (CLASSICAL) PERIOD (800-1186)
BOOK THE THIRD
UFA AN {CLASSICAL) PERIOD (800-1186)
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY
In 794 the capital was removed to the site of the present
city of Kioto. It received the name of Heian-j5, or the
'' City of Peace." The Mikados continued to make it
their residence until the revolution of 1868, but the term
'' Heian period " is restricted to the time when Kioto was
the real seat of government, namely, about four centuries.
When Yoritomo, at the end of this period, established
the Shogunate, or rule of the military caste, at Kamakura,
in the east of Japan, all practical authority was trans-
ferred thither.
With the founding of Heian-jo (Kioto) the wave of
progress which received its impulse from the combined
influences of Chinese learning and the Buddhist religion
reached its height, and a period of great material pros-
perity ensued. But the usual results were not long in
manifesting themselves. The ruling classes became indo-
lent and luxurious, and neglected the arts of government
53
54 JAPANESE LITERATURE
for the pursuit of pleasure. There was great laxity of
morals, as the literature of the period abundantly shows ;
but learning flourished, and a high state of refinement
prevailed in that narrow circle which surrounded the
Mikado and his court.
The Heian period is the classical age of Japanese
literature. Its poetry may not quite reach the stan-
dard of the Manyoshiu, but it contains much that is
of admirable quality, while in the abundance and excel-
lence of its prose writings it leaves the Nara period
far behind. The language had now attained to its full
development. With its rich system of terminations and
particles, it was a pliant instrument in the writer's hands,
and the vocabulary was varied and copious to a degree
which is astonishing when we remember that it was drawn
almost exclusively from native sources. The few words
of Chinese origin which it contains seem to have found
their way in through the spoken language, and are not
taken straight from Chinese books, as at a later stage
when Japanese authors loaded their periods with alien
vocables to an extent for which our most Johnsonian
English affords a feeble parallel.
The literature of the Heian period reflects the plea-
sure-loving and effeminate, but cultured and refined
character of the class of Japanese who produced it. It
has no serious, masculine qualities. History, theology,
science, law — in short, all learned and thoughtful works
were composed in the Chinese language, and were of
poor literary quality. The native literature may be de-
scribed in one word as belles-lettres. It consists of
poetry, fiction, diaries, and essays of a desultory kind,
called by the Japanese Zuihitsu, or " following the
pen," the only exceptions being a few works of a more
HEIAN PERIOD 55
or less historical character which appeared towards the
close of the period.
The lower classes of the people had no share in the
literary activity of this time. Culture had not as yet
penetrated beyond a very narrow circle. Both writers
and readers belonged exclusively to the official caste.
The people from time to time showed their dissatis-
faction with oppression and misgovernment, but their
discontent found no expression in literature. It took
the form of outbreaks and rebellions, robbery and
piracy.
It is a remarkable and, I believe, unexampled fact,
that a very large and important part of the best literature
which Japan has produced was written by women. We
have seen that a good share of the Nara poetry is of
feminine authorship. In the Heian period the women
took a still more conspicuous part in maintaining the
honour of the native literature. The two greatest
works which have come down to us from this time are
both by women. This was no doubt partly due to the
absorption of the masculine intellect in Chinese studies,
and to the contempt of the stronger sex for such frivolous
pursuits as the writing of poetry and romances. But
there was still a more effective cause. The position of
women in ancient Japan was very different from what
it afterwards became when Chinese ideas were in the
ascendant. The Japanese of this early period did not
share the feeling common to most Eastern countries,
that women should be kept in subjection, and, as far as
possible, in seclusion. Feminine chieftains are frequently
mentioned in the old histories, and several even of the
Mikados were women. Indeed the Chinese seem to have
thought that the ^' monstrous regiment of women " was
56 JAPANESE LITERATURE
the rule in Japan at this time ; at least they often si
it the '' Queen-country." Many instances might be quoted
of Japanese women exercising an influence and main-
taining an independence of conduct quite at variance
with our preconceived notions of the position of women
in the East. It is this which gives their literary work an
air of freedom and originality which it would be vain to
expect in the writings of inmates of a harem.
The fact that the Heian literature was largely the
work of women no doubt accounts partly for its gentle,
domestic character. It abounds in descriptions of scenes
of home and court life, and of amours and sentimental
or romantic incidents. Though the morality which it
reveals is anything but strait-laced, the language is
uniformly refined and decent, in this respect resembling
the best literature of China, upon which the Japanese
taste was formed, and contrasting strongly with the
pornographic school of popular fiction which disgraced
Japan in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
The Heian period witnessed an important advance
in the art of writing, the invention of the phonetic
script known as Kana. The ancient Japanese had no
writing. When they began to write their own language
phonetically they had no alternative but to use Chinese
ideographs for the purpose. This system was open to
two objections. A Chinese character is a complicated
contrivance, consisting of numerous strokes, and as a
complete character was required for each syllable of the
polysyllabic Japanese words, an intolerable cumbersome-
ness was the result. The second objection was that a
given Japanese syllable might be represented by any
one of several Chinese characters. Some hundreds were
actually in use to write the forty-seven syllables of which
PHONETIC WRITING 57
the language consists. It was no easy matter to remem-
ber so many, either in reading or in writing. To meet
these difficulties the Japanese did two things : they
restricted themselves to a limited number of characters
for use as phonetic signs, and they wrote these in an
abbreviated or cursive form. There are two varieties
of the script thus produced, which are known as the
Katakana and Hiragana. No exact date can be assigned
for their introduction, but for the present purpose it is
sufficient to know that both had come into use by the
end of the ninth century. They simplified writing enor-
mously. It is hardly too much to say that without them
the labour of committing to paper the lengthy composi-
tions of this period would have given pause to the most
industrious scribes.
CHAPTER II
POETRY— THE "KOKINSHIU"
For seventy or eighty years after the estabHshment
the capital at Heian or Kioto, Chinese learning mono-
polised the attention of the nation. No prose writings
of importance in the Japanese language have come
down to us from this period. The native poetry also
languished. Chinese verse composition was the fashioUj
Mikados and even princesses being numbered among th<
adepts in this accomplishment. The end of the ninth
century, however, saw a revival of Japanese poetry. W<
now meet with the names of Yukihira, Narihira, Otomo
no Kuronushi, and others, followed in the early part oi
the tenth by Ki no Tsurayuki, Oshi Koji, Henjo, and One
no Komachi (a poetess).
In A.D. 905 the Mikado Daigo instructed a committee
of officials of the Department of Japanese Poetry, con-
sisting of Ki no Tsurayuki and other poets, to make
collection of the best pieces which had been produced
during the previous one hundred and fifty years. Thq
Anthology known as the Kokinshiu (Poems, Ancient an(
Modern) was the result of their labours. It was com-
pleted about 922, and contains over eleven hundred
poems, arranged under the headings of Spring, Summer,
Autumn, Winter, Felicitations, Partings, Journeys, Names
of Things, Love, Sorrow, and Miscellaneous. Only five of
this number are in the longer metre called Naga-uta, the
58
KOKINSHIU 59
rest being Tanka of thirty-one syllables, with a few in
somewhat similar short metres.
The neglect of the Naga-uta for the Tanka which is
indicated by these figures was no passing phase of Japan-
ese poetry. It has continued up to our own day, with
fatal consequences, and has been a bar to all real pro-
gress in the poetic art. How a nation which possessed
in the Naga-uta an instrument not unfitted, as there
are examples to show, for the production of narrative,
elegiac, and other poems, could practically confine itself
for many centuries to a form of poetic expression within
whose narrow limits nothing more substantial than
aphorisms, epigrams, conceits, or brief exclamations can
be contained, is a question which it is more easy to ask
than to answer.
Much of the poetry of this time was the outcome of
poetical tournaments, at which themes were proposed to
the competitors by judges who examined each phrase
and word with the minutest critical care before pro-
nouncing their verdict. As might be expected, the
poetry produced under these circumstances is of a more
or less artificial type, and is wanting in the spontaneous
vigour of the earlier essays of the Japanese muse. Con-
ceits, acrostics, and untranslatable word-plays hold much
too prominent a place ; but for perfection of form, the
poems of this time are unrivalled. It is no doubt to this
quality that the great popularity of this collection is due.
Sei Shonagon, writing in the early years of the eleventh
century, sums up a young lady's education as consisting
of writing, music, and the twenty volumes of the Kokin-
shiu. Subsequent poetry is evidently modelled on it
rather than on the more archaic poems of the Manyo-
shiu. Even at the present day the Kokinshiu is the best
6o JAPANESE LITERATURE
known and most universally studied of all the numeroug
anthologies of Japanese poetry.
I
SOME TANKA FROM THE " KOKINSHIU "
" Who could it have been
That first gave love
This name f
* Dying ' is the plain word
He might well have used^^
Neatly rendered by Mr. Chamberlain : —
" O love ! who gave thee thy superfluous name?^
Loving and dying — is it not the same ? "
The personification of love, however, is hardly in the
Japanese style.
" Do T forget thee
Even for so brief a space
As the ears of grain
On the fields of autumn
Are lit up by the lightni fig's glare ? "
" I fell asleep while thinking of thee;
Perchance for this reason
I saw thee in a dreajn !
Had I only known it to be one
I would not have awaked"
" Shall we call that only a dreaiti
Which we see
While asleep :
This vain world itself
I cannot regard as a reality."
" / know that my life
Has no assurance of to-morrow ;
But to-day^
So long as darkness has not yet fallen^
I will grieve for him who has passed away"
KOKINSHIU 6 1
" O thou cuckoo
Of thi ancient capital
Of I so no Kami ! \_Narci\
Thy voice alone
Is all that is left of the olden time."
Tsurayuki, having met with a cool reception at his
native place, plucks a branch of flowering plum, and
exclaims —
''Its people? Ah well I
I know not their hearts^
But in 7ny native place
The flowers with their ancient
Fragrance are odorousP
" The hue of the flowers
Mingles with the sjtow,
So that it canjiot be seen;
But their presence may be known
Were it o?ily by the perfume."
" / came and found thee not:
Wetter far is 7ny sleeve
Than if I had threaded my way at 7norn
Through the bamboo-grass
Of the autumn plain,^^
" This night of sprittg^
Of formless gloom^
The colour of the plum-flowers
Canftoty indeed, be seen;
But how can their perfume be hidden ? "
" What is it that 7nakes me feel so desolate
This evening
While I wait
For 07te who co7nes not?
Ca7t it be the blowing of the \chilt\ autu77in wind? "
" / would that thy heart
Were melted unto me.
As when spring co77tes
The ice thaws away
And leaves no remainder. ^^
62 JAPANESE LITERATURE
'•^ For many a year
The fire in me of love
Has not beeti quenched^
Yet my froze7i sleeve {soaked with tears']
Is still imthawed"
" // is I alone
Who am most 7niserable^
For no year passes
In which even the ' Cow-herd^
Does not tneet his love^
There is here an allusion to the Chinese story, accord-
ing to which the Cow-herd, one of a group of stars neai
the River of Heaven (the Milky Way), is the lover of
star on the other side called the Spinster. They are
separated all the year round except on the seventh day
of the seventh month, when magpies bridge over the
River of Heaven, so as to allow the pair to meet.
Both Chinese and Japanese poetry contain numberless
allusions to this legend.
The most convenient of the many editions of the
Kokinshiu is Motoori's Td-Kagami, It contains a modern
colloquial paraphrase of the original.
CHAPTER III
PROSE — "KOKINSHIU" PREFACE, «TOSA NIKKI,"
**TAKETORI MONOGATARI," «ISE MONOGA-
TARI," MINOR WORKS
The " KoKiNSHiu " Preface
About two centuries elapsed after the Kojiki was written
without any substantial addition being made to the prose
literature of Japan. Some of the Norito and Imperial
edicts described in a previous chapter belong to this
period; but it was not until the early part of the tenth
century that Japanese writers took up in earnest the
practice of prose composition in their native language.
Ki NO TSURAYUKI, the poet and editor of the Kokinshiu,
was the first in the field.
But few details of his life have reached us. He was
a court noble who traced his descent in a direct line
from one of the Mikados, and his history is little more
than the record of the successive offices which he held
at Kioto and in the provinces. He died A.D. 946.
His famous preface to the Kokinshiu was written
about 922. It has to this day a reputation in Japan as
the ne plus ultra of elegance in style. Later literature is
full of allusions to it, and it has served as the model for
countless similar essays. It is interesting as the first
attempt to discuss such a philosophical question as the
63
64 JAPANESE LITERATURE
nature of poetry in a thoughtful spirit. I transcribe the
more important passages : —
'* The poetry of Yamato (Japan) has the human heart
for its seed, and grows therefrom into the manifold forms
of speech. Men are full of various activities, among
which poetry is that which consists in expressing the
thoughts of their hearts by metaphors taken from what
they see or hear.
" Listening to the nightingale singing among the
flowers or to the cry of the frog which dwells in the
water, we recognise the truth that of all living things
there is not one which does not utter song. It is poetry
by which, without an effort, heaven and earth are moved,
and gods and demons invisible to our eyes are touched
with sympathy. By poetry the converse of lovers is
made gentler, and the hearts of fierce warriors soothed.
" Poetry began when heaven and earth were created.
But of that which has been handed down to our day, the
first was made in everlasting heaven by Shita-teru-hime,
and on the ore-yielding earth by Susa-no-wo. In the
age of the swift gods it would seem that as yet there was
no established metre. Their poetry was artless in form
and hard of comprehension. It was in the age of man
that Susa-no-wo made the first poetry of thirty and one
syllables. And so by the varied multiplication of
thoughts and language we came to express our love
for flowers, our envy of birds, our emotion at the sight
of the hazes which usher in the spring, or our grief at
beholding the dew.^ As a distant journey is begun by
our first footstep and goes on for months and years, as a
high mountain has its beginning in the dust of its base
and at length rises aloft and extends across the sky like
1 Dew with the Japanese poets suggests tears, and is associated with grief.
KOKINSHIU PREFACE 65
the clouds of heaven, so gradual must have been the rise
of poetry.
" In the present day love has seduced men's hearts into
a fondness for ornament. Hence nothing is produced
but frivolous poetry without depth of feeling. In the
houses of those given to a life of gallantry, poetry is like
a tree buried in the ground and unknown to men ; while
with more serious people it is regarded as a flowering
Suzuki 1 which will never bear ears of grain. If we con-
sider its origin, this ought not to be. The Mikados of
former times, on a morning when the spring flowers
were in blossom, or on a night when the autumn moon
was shining, used to send for their courtiers and demand
from them verses suitable to the occasion. Some would
represent themselves as wandering in trackless places in
search of the flowers they loved ; others would describe
their groping in the guideless dark and longing for the
moon. The Mikado would then examine all such fancies,
and pronounce this to be clever, that to be stupid.
" Or else they wished prosperity to their lord, using the
metaphors of pebbles^ or of Mount Tsukuba.^ When
joy was too much for them, when their hearts overflowed
with pleasure, when they felt their love to be eternal as
1 A kind of grass.
^ " May our lord
Live for a thousand ages,
Until the pebbles
Become a rock
Overgrown with ntoss.^^
3 " Mount Tsukuba \which has two peaks\
Has a shadow
On this side and on that,
But the shadow of Our Lord
Has no shadow to excel it. "
E
66 JAPANESE LITERATURE
the smoke which rises from Mount Fuji, when they
longed for a friend with the yearning of the cry of the
matsumushi [a kind of cicada], when the sight of the pair
of fir-trees of Takasago and Suminoye suggested a hus-
band and wife growing old together, when they thought
of their bygone days of manly vigour, or grudged to the
past the one time of maiden bloom, it was with poetry
that they comforted their hearts. Again, when they
looked upon the flowers shed from their stalks on a
spring morning, or heard the leaves falling on an
autumnal eve, or every year lamented the snow and
waves [i.e. grey hairs] reflected in a mirror ; or, seeing
the dew upon the grass or the foam upon water, were
startled to recognise in them emblems of their own lives ;
or else, but yesterday in all the pride of prosperity,
to-day, with a turn of fortune, saw themselves doomed to
a wretched life, those dear to them estranged ; or again
drew metaphors from the waves and the fir-clad moun-
tain or the spring of water in the midst of the moor, or
gazed on the under leaves of the autumn lespedeza, or
counted the times a snipe preens its feathers at dawn,
or compared mankind to a joint of bamboo floating
down a stream, or expressed their disgust with the world,
by the simile of the river Yoshino, or heard that the
smoke no longer rises from Mount Fuji, or that the
bridge of Nagara had been repaired — in all these cases
poetry it was by which they soothed their hearts."
The above are allusions to well-known poems. Tsura-
yuki traces briefly the history of Japanese poetry in the
Nara period, and then goes on to speak of the more
recent poets whose effusions find a place in the collec-
tion he had made. The following may have some interest
as the earliest example of literary criticism in Japan : —
TOSA NIKKI (ij
" Henjo excels in form, but substance is wanting.
The emotion produced by his poetry is evanescent, and
may be compared to that which we experience at the
sight of a beautiful woman in a painting. Narihira over-
flows with sentiment, but his language is deficient. His
verse is like a flower which, although withered and with-
out bloom, yet retains its fragrance. Yasuhide is skilful
in the use of words, but they match ill with his matter,
as if a shopkeeper were to dress himself in fine silks.
Risen is profound, but the connection between the begin-
ning and the end is indistinct. He may be compared to
the autumn moon, which, as we gaze on it, is obscured
by the clouds of dawn. We have not much of his poetry,
so that we gain little towards understanding it by a com-
parison of one poem with another. Ono no Komachi
belongs to the school of Soto-ori-hime of ancient times.
There is feeling in her poems, but little vigour. She is
like a lovely woman who is suffering from ill health.
Want of vigour, however, is only natural in a woman's
poetry. Kuronushi's verse is poor in form. He re-
sembles a woodman burdened with faggots resting in the
shade of flowers."
'^TOSA NlKKl"
Another work of Tsurayuki's is the Tosa Nikki or Tosa
Diary. It was written on a journey back to Kioto after
having completed his term of four years' service as
Prefect of that province.
The first entry bears date the 21st day of the twelfth
month, and we learn from other sources that the year
was the fourth year of Shohei. This would be, according
to the European reckoning, some time in the months of
January or February A»P. 935.
6^ JAPANESE LITERATURE
Tsurayuki begins by telling his readers that diarie
being commonly written by men, this is an attempt i
write a woman's diary ; meaning, that it was in
Japanese language and written character, not in Chinese.
He then records his departure from the Government
House of Tosa, and his arrival at the port from which
he was to sail. He was accompanied hither by large
numbers of people who came to take leave of him.
Most brought with them parting presents, usually of
eatables or sake. The result was that in Tsurayuki's
words, ^^ Strange to say, here we were all fresh by the
shore of the salt sea." He did not actually set sail till
the 27th, the intervening six days being chiefly taken up
in disposing of the presents, and in a visit to the newly
appointed Prefect, with whom he spent a day and night
in drinking and verse-making, after which he took a
final leave. Tsurayuki's successor in office shook hands
with him at the bottom of the steps leading up to the
house, and they bade each other farewell with many
cordial but tipsy expressions of good-will on both sides,
On the following day, however, we find Tsurayuki in a
different frame of mind. He tells us that during his stay
in Tosa a girl had died who was born in Kioto, and that
amid all the bustle and confusion of leaving port, her
friends could think of nothing but her. Some one, he
says, composed this verse of poetry on the occasion :
^' With the joyful thought, ' Home to Kioto,' there
mingles the bitter reflection that there is one who never
will return." We are informed by another writer that
Tsurayuki here deplores the loss of his own daughter, a
little girl of nine years of age.
But the jollifications had not yet come to an end. The
new Prefect's brother made his appearance at a project-
TOSA NIKKI 69
ing cape on their way to the first stopping-place, and
they were accordingly obliged to land on the beach,
where there was more drinking and composing of
verses. Of these Tsurayuki seems to have had no great
opinion. He says that it required the united efforts of
two of the party to make one bad verse, and compares
them to two fishermen labouring along with a heavy net
on their shoulders. Their jollity was interrupted by the
master of the junk, who summoned them on board.
There was a fair wind, he said, and the tide served ; and
Tsurayuki maliciously adds that there was no more sake
to drink. They accordingly embarked, and proceeded
on their voyage.
On the 29th they had got no farther than Ominato, a
harbour only a few miles distant from their starting-
point. Here they were detained for ten days waiting for
a fair wind. Presents of eatables and drinkables still
came in, but more sparingly, and Tsurayuki records
regretfully the fate of a bottle of sake which he had
fastened on the roof of the cabin, but which was displaced
by the rolling of the junk and fell overboard. One of
these presents was a pheasant, which, according to the
old Japanese custom, was attached to a flowering branch
of plum. Some brought verses with their gifts. Here
is a specimen : ^^ Louder than the clamour of the white
surges on your onward path will be the cry of me
weeping that I am left behind." Tsurayuki remarks that
if that were really so, he must have a very loud voice.
On the 9th of the second month they at last sailed
from Ominato. As they passed Matsubara, they admired
a large grove of ancient firs which grew by the sea-
shore. Tsurayuki mentions the pleasure with which
they watched the cranes flying about among their tops,
70 JAPANESE LITERATURE
and gives us this verse composed on the occasion :
"Casting my glance over the sea, on each fir-tree^ top
a crane has his dweUing. They have been comrades for
a thousand years."
It became dark before they reached their next stopping-
place. The idea of pursuing their voyage all night long
does not seem to have occurred to them. Besides, to
judge from its having gone up the Osaka river as far as
Yamazaki, their junk must have been a very small one,
and the diary shows that it depended more on oars than
on sails. Here is Tsurayuki's description of nightfall : —
" Whilst we rowed along gazing on this scene, th(
mountains and the sea became all dark, the night deep-
ened, and east and west could not be distinguished, so we
entrusted all thought of the weather to the mind of the
master of our ship. Even the men who were not ac-
customed to the sea became very sad, and still more the
women, who rested their heads on the bottom of the ship
and did nothing but weep. The sailors, however, seemed
to think nothing of it, and sung the following boat-song."
Tsurayuki gives a few lines of it, and then proceeds;
" There was a great deal more of this kind of stuff, but I
do not write it down. Listening to the laughter at these
verses, our hearts became somewhat calmed in spite oi
the raging of the sea. It was quite dark when we at
length reached our anchorage for the night."
Three more days leisurely travelling brought them to
Murotsu, a port just to the west of the eastern of the twc
horns which the island of Shikoku sends out to th(
southward. The morning after their arrival here, a slight
but constant rain prevented them from starting, and th(
passengers took the opportunity to go on shore for i
^ Both the crane and the fir are, in Japan, emblems of long life.
TOSA NIKKI
71
bath. In the entry for this day, Tsurayuki mentions a
curious superstition. He tells us that since the day on
which they first embarked, no one wore scarlet or other
rich colours or good silks, lest they should incur the
anger of the gods of the sea. The next day the rain
continued. It was a Buddhist fast-day, and Tsurayuki
kept it faithfully till noon ; but as suitable food for fast-
days was not obtainable on board, he bought with rice (not
having any copper cash) a tai which one of the sailors
had caught the day before. This was the beginning of a
trade between him and the sailors, sake and rice being
exchanged for fish. There was no change in the weather
till the 17th, the fifth day from their arrival at Murotsu.
On that day they started early in the morning with the
moon, then just past the full, shining over a waveless sea,
which reflected the sky so perfectly, that, as Tsurayuki
said, the heaven above and the ocean beneath could not
be distinguished. He composed the following stanza on
this occasion : ^^What is this that strikes against my oar
as the boat is rowed along over the moon of the sea-
depths ? Is it the bush of the man in the moon ? "
The fine weather, however, did not continue. Dark
clouds gathering overhead alarmed the master of the junk,
and they put back to Murotsu under a pelting shower,
and feeling very miserable. Three more wretched days
they were obliged to remain here, endeavouring with
indifferent success to while away the time by writing
Chinese and Japanese verses, and every morning counting
the days that had been already spent on the voyage. On
the 2ist they again proceeded on their way. A large
number of other junks sailed at the same time, a pretty
sight, which was greatly admired by Tsurayuki. '' It
was spring," he remarks, '^ but it seemed as if over the
72 JAPANESE LITERATURE
sea the leaves of autumn were being scattered." The
weather was now fine, and they entered what we call
the Kii Channel.
Here they were disturbed by a fresh cause of anxiety.
It seems that Tsurayuki during his term of office in
Tosa had had occasion to deal rather severely with the
pirates of these parts, and it was thought likely that
they would now try to have their revenge. One of the
commentators attempts to save Tsurayuki's reputation
for courage by reminding us that this diary is written in
the character of a woman. The course of the narrative
shows that their fears were to all appearance well
grounded. Two days later we find them praying to the
Kami and Hotoke ^ to save them from the pirates. On
the following days there were constant alarms, and on
the 26th they heard that the pirates were actually in
pursuit of them, so they left their anchorage at midnight
and put to sea. There was a place on their way where
it was usual to make offerings to the God of the Sea.
Tsurayuki made the captain offer nusa.'^ They were
offered by being cast into the air, and allowing the wind
to carry them to the sea. The nusa fell in an easterly
direction, and the junk's course was turned to the same
quarter. To the great joy of all on board, they had now
a favourable wind, sail was set, and they made a good
day's run. The next two days they were again storm-
bound, but on the 29th they proceeded on their voyage.
On the 30th they crossed the entrance to the Naruto
passage, and the same night, by dint of hard rowing, they
reached the strait of Idzumi. They had now reached the
Gokinai, or five provinces round Kioto, and here there was
^ Shinto and Buddhist gods.
'^ The strips of white paper seen in Shinto shrines, and also called gohei.
TOSA NIKKI 73
no longer any fear of pirates. The ist day of the second
month they made httle way, and on the 2nd we have
the following entry : *' The rain and wind ceased not ;
a whole day and a whole night we prayed to the Kami
and Hotoke." On the next day the weather was equally
bad, and on the 4th the captain would not put to sea,
from a fear of bad weather which proved quite ground-
less. There were a great many beautiful shells on the
beach at this place, and Tsurayuki composed these lines
in allusion to a shell which is called in Japanese the
wasure-gai or ^' shell of forgetfulness: " '^ I would descend
from my ship to gather the shell of forgetfulness of one
for whom I am filled with sorrowful longing. Do ye, oh
ye advancing surges, drive it forward to the strand."
He afterwards says that the true wish of his heart was
not to forget her whom he had lost, but only to give
such respite to his sorrow that it might afterwards gain
greater strength.
The following is part of the entry for the 5th, the day
before they arrived in the Osaka river. They were now
opposite Sumiyoshi.
*^ Meanwhile a sudden gale sprung up, and in spite of
all our efforts we fell gradually to leeward, and were in
great danger of being sent to the bottom. * This god of
Sumiyoshi,' said the captain, ^ is like other gods. What
he desires is not any of the fashionable articles of the
day. Give him nusa as an offering.' The captain's ad-
vice was taken, and nusa were offered ; but as the wind,
instead of ceasing, only blew harder and harder, and the
danger from the storm and sea became more and more
imminent, the captain again said, *■ Because the august
heart of the god is not moved for nusa, neither does the
august ship move ; offer to him something in which he
1
74 JAPANESE LITERATURE
will take greater pleasure.' In compliance with th
advice, I bethought me what it would be best to offe
^ Of eyes I have a pair — then let me give to the god m
mirror, of which I have only one.' The mirror wa
accordingly flung into the sea, to my very great regret
but no sooner had I done so than the sea itself becam
as smooth as a mirror."
The next day they entered the Osaka river. All th
passengers, men, women, and children, were overjoye
at reaching this point of their voyage, and clasped thei
foreheads with their hands in ecstasies of deligh
Several days were now spent in dragging the vess
laboriously against the strong current of the river,
fast-day occurred on their way up it, which Tsurayul
had this time the satisfaction of keeping properly b
abstaining entirely from fish. On the 12th they reache
Yamazaki, from which place a carriage (that is, one
the bullock-carts in which nobles rode) was sent for
Kioto, and on the evening of the i6th they left Yamazal
for the capital. Tsurayuki was greatly delighted to n
cognise the old familiar landmarks as he rode along. Fi
mentions the children's playthings and sweetmeats in th
shops as looking exactly as when he went away, an
wonders whether he will find as little change in the hearts
of his friends. He had purposely left Yamazaki in the
evening in order that it might be night when he reached
his own dwelling. I translate his account of the state in
which he found it : —
" When I reached my house and entered the gate the
moon was shining brightly, and its condition was plainly
to be seen. It was decayed and ruined beyond all
description — worse even than I had been told. The
heart of the man in whose charge I left it must have been
TOSA NIKKI 75
in an equally dilapidated condition. The fence between
the two houses had been broken down, so that both
seemed but one, and he appeared to have fulfilled his
charge by looking in through the gaps. And yet I had
supplied him by every opportunity with the means of
keeping it in repair. To-night, however, I would not
allow him to be told this in an angry tone, but in spite
of my vexation, offered him an acknowledgment for his
trouble. There was in one place a sort of pond where
water had collected in a hollow, by the side of which
grew a fir-tree. It had lost half its branches, and looked
as if a thousand years had passed during the five or six
years of my absence. Younger trees had grown up
round it, and the whole place was in a most neglected
condition, so that every one said that it was pitiful to see.
Among other sad thoughts that rose spontaneously to my
mind was the memory — ah, how sorrowful ! — of one who
was born in this house, but who did not return here along
with me. My fellow-travellers were chatting merrily with
their children in their arms ; but I meanwhile, still un-
able to contain my grief, privately repeated these lines
to one who knew my heart."
I shall not give the verses, but proceed to the last
sentence of the diary, which is as follows : " I cannot
write down all my many regrets and memories ; be it for
good or for evil, here I will fling away my pen."
The Tosa Nikki is a striking example of the importance
of style. It contains no exciting adventures or romantic
situations ; there are in it no wise maxims or novel
information ; its only merit is that it describes in simple
yet elegant language, and with a vein of playful humour,
the ordinary life of a traveller in Japan at the time when
it was written. But this has proved sufficient to give it
76 JAPANESE LITERATURE
a high rank amongst Japanese classics, and has insured
its being handed down to our own day as a most esteemec
model for composition in the native Japanese style. It has
been followed by many imitations, but has had no equal
"Taketori Monogatari" and "Ise Monogatari"
Monogatarij a word which will be frequently met with
below, means ^^ narrative." It is applied chiefly to fiction
but there are some true histories which fall under this
denomination.
The date and authorship of both these books is un
known. We may, however, accept the opinion of the
eminent native critic Motoori, that they belong to a time
not long after the period Yengi (901-922). Both are
obviously the work of persons well versed in the litera-
ture of the day, and familiar with court life in Kioto.
The Taketori Monogatari'^ is usually given the pre-
cedence in order of time. It is what we should call a
fairy-tale. The scene is laid in the neighbourhood of
Kioto, and the personages are all Japanese. The Ian-,
guage too is as nearly as possible pure Japanese. But
there are abundant traces of foreign influences. The
supernatural machinery is either Buddhist or Taoist, and
most even of the incidents are borrowed from the copious
fairy-lore of China.
An old man who earned a living by making bamboo-
ware ( Taketori means bamboo-gatherer) espied one day
in the woods a bamboo with a shining stem. He split
it open, and discovered in one of the joints a beautiful
little maiden three inches in height. He took her home
and adopted her as his daughter, giving her the name of
1 Translated by Mr. F. V. Dickins in the Journal of the Royal Asiatic
Society^ January 1887.
TAKETORI MONOGATARI jy
Kaguyahime or the '' shining damsel." She speedily
grew up to womanhood, when her beauty attracted
numerous admirers. To each of them she assigned a
quest, promising that she would marry the suitor who
successfully accomplished the task allotted to him. One
lover was told to fetch Buddha's begging-bowl of stone
from India; another to bring her a branch of the tree with
roots of silver, stem of gold, and fruit of jewels, which
grew in the fabulous island Paradise of Mount Horai.
From the third she required a garment made of the fur
of the lire-rat, supposed to be uninflammable. The
fourth was to procure the shining jewel of many hues
of the dragon's head, and the fifth a swallow's cowry-
shell. They all failed. The maiden was then wooed by
the Mikado, but equally in vain, though they remained on
friendly terms and kept up an exchange of sentimental
Tanka. She was eventually taken up to heaven in a flying
chariot, brought by her relatives in the moon, whence
it seems she had been banished to earth for an offence
which she had committed.
The episode of the quest of the golden branch from
Mount Horai may serve as a specimen of this work.
Prince Kuramochi, to whom this task was allotted, having
had a counterfeit branch made by cunning workmen,
produces it and claims his reward. The old man asks
him to tell in what manner of place he obtained this
'' marvellous, graceful, and lovely " branch. Prince
Kuramochi thereupon relates his supposed voyage to
Mount Horai, not, it will be observed, without some
bungling and repetition natural to a man who has to
make up his story as he goes along : —
"Three years ago, on the loth day of the second
month, we embarked from Osaka. We knew not what
78 JAPANESE LITERATURE
i
course we should take when we put out to sea, but as
I felt that life would be valueless if I could not have my
heart's desire fulfilled, we sailed on, entrusting ourselves
to the empty winds. If we perish, thought we, there is no
help for it. So long as we live, however, we will sail on
until it may be we reach this island, called, it seems,
Mount Horai. With such thoughts we rowed on over
the ocean, and tossed about until we left far behind the
shores of our own land. In our wanderings we were at
one time like to go down even to the bottom of the sea
whilst the waves were raging ; at another time we were
borne by the wind to an unknown country where crea
tures like devils came forth and tried to kill us. At one
time, knowing neither the way we had come nor th
course we should follow, we were almost lost upon the
sea ; at another our provisions became spent, and we
used the roots of trees for food. Once beings hideous
beyond description came and attempted to devour us^
and once we sustained life by gathering shell -fish
Under a strange sky, where there was none to render
us aid, we tossed about over the sea, a prey to diseases
of all kinds, and leaving the ship to her own spon
taneous motion, for we knew not at all the course we
ought to follow. At last, when five hundred days had
passed, about the hour of the dragon a mountain became
faintly visible in the midst of the sea. All in the ship
gazed steadfastly at it, and saw that it was a very great
mountain which floated about upon the surface. Its
appearance was lofty and picturesque. This, we thought,
must be the mountain we are seeking. No wonder we
were filled with dread at its sight. We sailed round it for
two or three days. Then there came forth from amongst
the hills a woman clothed like an inhabitant of heaven,
TAKETORI MONOGATARI 79
and drew water in a silver vessel. When we saw her, we
landed from the ship, and asked what might be the name
of this mountain. The woman replied and said, ^This is
Mount Horai.' Our joy was unbounded. 'And who,'
we inquired, ' is she who tells us so ? ' ' My name is
Hokanruri,' she said, and of a sudden went away in
among the hills.
''There seemed no way to climb this mountain, so we
went round its side, where flowering trees unknown in
this world were growing. Streams of golden, silver, and
emerald hue flowed forth from it, spanned by bridges of
all manner of jewels. Here stood shining trees, the least
beautiful of which was that of which I brought away a
branch, but, as it answered Kaguyahime's description, I
plucked it and came away. That mountain is delightful
beyond measure, and there is nothing in this world to
compare with it. But when I had got the branch, I
became impatient to return ; so we embarked in our ship,
and the wind being fair, arrived at Osaka after a voyage
of over four hundred days. Urged by my great desire,
I left for the capital yesterday, and now I present myself
here without even changing my garments soaked with
brine."
(I omit a verse of poetry in which the old man ex-
presses his sympathy with the Prince's sufferings, and
also the Prince's poetical reply.)
At this juncture a party of six men appeared in the
courtyard. One of them, who held in his hand a cleft
stick, with a paper in it, said : " I, Ayabe no Uchimaro,
the head smith of your workshop, beg humbly to state —
For more than a thousand days I and my men have
laboured with all our strength and most heedful care in
making for you the jewel-branch, but yet have received
8o JAPANESE LITERATURE
I
from you no wages. I pray you let me receive them, sc
that I may pay my men." So saying, he presented his
paper. The old bamboo-cutter, with his head bowed
down in thought, wondered what the words of this work-
man might mean, while the Prince, beside himself with
dismay, felt as if his heart were melting within him.
When Kagayuhime heard this, she said, '^ Bring me that
paper." It read as follows : —
" My Lord the Prince, — When you shut yourself upi
for more than a thousand days with us mean workmen,
and made us fashion the wonderful jewel-branch, you
promised to reward us with official appointments. As
we were lately thinking over this, we remembered that
you had told us that the branch was required by
the lady Kaguyahime, whose lord you were to be, and it
occurred to us that in this palace we should receive our
reward."
Kaguyahime, whose heart had been growing sadder
and sadder as the sun went down, bloomed into smiles.
She called the old man to her and said, ^' Truly I had
thought that it was no other than the real tree of Mount
Horai. Now that we know that it is but a sorry counter-
feit, give it back to him at once."
Compared with the later literature of the Heian period,
the style of the Taketori is artless and unformed, but its
nafve simplicity accords well with the subject-matter, and
is not without a charm of its own. i
The Ise Monogatari is one of the most admired pro-
ductions of the older Japanese literature. Its style is
clear and concise, and far surpasses in elegance that of
the Taketori Monogatari.
It consists of a number of short chapters which have
little connection with each other, except that they all
ISE MONOGATARI 8i
relate incidents in the life of a gay young nobleman of
the court of Kioto, who is usually identified with a real
personage named Narihira. Narihira lived about a cen-
tury before the date when the he Monogatari was written,
but he is supposed to have left diaries on which this work
was founded. What truth there may be in this it is now
impossible to ascertain, nor does it much concern us to
know. The long series of love affairs in which the hero
is involved are more suggestive of fiction than of fact, and
the most plausible explanation of the title of the work
points to the same conclusion. It seems that the men
of Ise, like the Cretans of old, were not remarkable for
veracity, so that the author, by calling his work Tales of
he, probably meant to convey a broad hint to his readers
that they must not take everything in it for truth. A
free rendering of Ise Monogatari would be Tales for the
Marines — a title under which we should not expect to
find a very conscientious adherence to actual fact.
It is a caprice of the author to make all his chapters
begin with the word Mukashi, the Japanese equivalent
of the '^a long time ago" of our fairy tales. Each
serves as a setting for one or two little poems of more
than average merit which are put into the mouth of the
hero and his numerous inamoratas.
The first few chapters relate some juvenile love ad-
ventures of the hero. The following may serve as a
specimen : —
^' A long time ago there dwelt a woman in the Western
Pavilion which was occupied by the Empress in East
Goj5.i Here she was visited by one who loved her
1 The city of Kioto is divided into sections by parallel streets somewhat in
the fashion of the ** Avenues" of New York. Gojo (fifth column) is one of
these. It is the principal shopping street of Kioto at the present day.
82 JAPANESE LITERATURE
deeply, though in secret. About the loth day of th
first month she concealed herself elsewhere. He learnet
where she was living, but as it was a place where visit
were impossible, he remained plunged in melancholy
In the first month of the following year, reminded of th
previous spring by the flowering of the plum-trees befon
his house, he went to the Western Pavilion, and stooc
there gazing. But gaze as he might, there was to hi
mind no resemblance to the scene of the year before
At last he burst into tears, and laying himself down or
the shattered floor, thought longingly of the bygone time
until the moon went down. He composed this poem —
''''Moon? There is 7ione.
Spriiig? ^Tis not the spring
Of former days :
It is I alone
Who have remai?ied unchanged'^'' ^ —
and then took his way homeward as the night was break
ing into dawn."
A Western writer would have expanded this into
sonnet at least, but within the narrow bounds of thirty-
one syllables prescribed by custom to the Japanese poet,
it is hardly possible to express more forcibly the blank
feeling of despair at the sight of familiar scenes which
are no longer brightened by the presence of the lovec
one. The moon and spring flowers are there before his
eyes, but as they do not move him as they did formerly,
1 The following is an attempt to imitate as nearly as possible the metrical
movement of the original, which, however, has no rhyme : —
^^Moonl There is none. ''^ Tsuki ya ! aranu :
Where are spring s wonted flowers ? Haru ya J mukashi no
I see not one. Haru naranu :
All else is changed, but I Waga mi hitotsu wa
Love on unalteringly.'' Moto no mi ni shite.^''
ISE MONOGATARI 83
he boldly denies their existence, giving emphasis by the
contrast to the declaration of his own unchanging love.
His subsequent adventures, it must be confessed, do not
speak highly for his constancy.
After several other unfortunate love affairs, the hero
found his life in Kioto intolerable, and set out on an ex-
pedition to the east of Japan. His journey gives occa-
sion for the introduction of a number of stanzas descriptive
of the remarkable sights on the way, such as the smok-
ing summit of Mount Asama, and the snow on Fujiyama
in the height of summer. He and his people crossed
the river Sumida, where Tokio now stands, in a ferry-
boat at nightfall. The dismal scene made them all feel
as if they had come to the end of the world, and their
thoughts went back with longing to their homes in Kioto.
There were some birds on the river known to us as
''oyster-catchers," but to the Japanese by the more
poetical name of Miyakodori, or '' birds of the capital."
Narihira exclaims —
" O thou bird of Miyako !
If such be thy ?ia>ne,
Come ! this question I would ask thee —
Is she whom I love
Still alive ^ or is she no more ? "
On hearing this, every one in the boat was moved to
tears. But Narihira is not always so sentimental. Some
of his adventures are intended to be more or less
comical.
We soon after find him in one of the northern pro-
vinces, where a rustic beauty, eager to make the ac-
quaintance of a fashionable young gentleman from
Kioto, sends him a poem (of course in thirty-one syl-
lables) of invitation. He condescends to visit her, but
84 JAPANESE LITERATURE
takes his leave while it is still pitch-dark. As Juliet, unde
somewhat similar circumstances, reviles the lark, th
lady, attributing his departure to the crowing of a coc
vents her displeasure in the following stanza, which sti
lingers in the popular memory : —
" When morning dawns
I would that a fox
Would devour that cock
Who, by his 7inseasonable crowing,
Has driven away my spouse ! "
I have before me two of the many editions of thi
work. One is by the eminent scholar and critic Ma
buchi, and contains much more commentary than texl
The other (dated 1608) is perhaps worthy of the attentioi
of book-collectors whose mental horizon is not boundec
by Europe. It is in two volumes, block-printed or
variously-tinted paper, and adorned with numerous full
page illustrations which are among the very earlies
specimens of the wood-engraver's art in Japan.
The Utsubo Monogatari is conjectured to have beer
written by the same author as the Taketori Monogatari^
and the style and matter of the first of the fourteen
stories of which it consists go far to confirm this supposi
tion, though it may perhaps be a question whether th(
whole collection is by the same person. It is mentionec
in the Genji Monogatari and in the Makura Zoshi, work:
which belong to the end of the tenth or the beginning
of the eleventh century, and was probably composed
some fifty or sixty years earlier. No exact date can be
assigned for its composition.
The style of the Utsubo Monogatari is plain and
straightforward ; but it has unfortunately suffered greatly
at the hands of copyists and editors, and also from the
UTSUBO MONOGATARI 85
ravages of time, so that the text, as we now have it, is in
a very unsatisfactory condition.
The title of the first story, " Toshikage," is taken from
the name of the hero. It is the best known of the series,
and has been pubHshed separately, as if it were the entire
work. Like the Taketori Monogatari, it belongs to the
class of fiction best described as Mahrchen.
The hero is a son of a member of the Fujiwara family
by an Imperial Princess. In other words, he has in his
veins the bluest blood in Japan. His parents purposely
allow him to grow up without any teaching, but he
nevertheless learns with astonishing quickness, and at
seven years of age holds a correspondence in the Chinese
written character with a stranger from Corea who is on
a visit to Japan. The Mikado, hearing of his remarkable
talent, holds an examination, at which Toshikage far sur-
passes all his competitors. He subsequently receives an
official appointment at the court, and later, at the age of
sixteen, is made Ambassador to China. Two of the three
ships in which the embassy sailed are lost during a
storm, and Toshikage's own vessel drives ashore in a
strange country, everybody (apparently) being drowned
but Toshikage himself. On landing, he puts up a prayer
to the Buddhist goddess Kwannon. A black horse,
ready saddled, makes his appearance, and carries him
to a spot where there are three men under a sandal-
tree seated on tiger-skins and playing on lutes {koto).
The horse vanishes. Toshikage remains here until the
following spring, when hearing in the west the sound
as of men felling trees, he resolves to follow it. Taking
a courteous leave of his three hosts, he sets out on his
quest. Seas and rivers, mountains and valleys are crossed,
but it is not until the spring of the next year but one that
86 JAPANESE LITERATURE
1
he arrives at his destination. Here in a valley he sees a
company of Asura (demons of Indian myth) engagec
in cutting up an immense kiri-tree {Paullownia Imperialis)
which they had felled. These demons ^^had hair like
upright sword-blades, their faces burned like flames oi
fire, their feet and hands resembled spades and mattocks,
their eyes gleamed like chargers of burnished metal."
Toshikage is in danger of faring ill at their hands, wher
a boy comes down from the sky, riding on a dragon
amid a storm of thunder and lightning and rain, bearing
a golden tablet, with instructions to the Asura to let him
go, and to give him part of the tree they had felled, so
that he might make it into lutes. He makes thirty lute
and goes his way, the lutes being carried for him by ;
whirlwind, which arises opportunely.
After other adventures of an equally wonderful kind,
Toshikage returns to Japan and makes his report to th
Mikado. He retires into private life, marries, and has
one daughter. He and his wife die, leaving the daughter
in great poverty. She lives in a secluded spot in the
suburbs of Kioto, where she is one day visited by a youth
who was accompanying his father to worship at the
shrine of Kamo. On his return home the next morning
his father, enraged at him for giving his parents so greal
anxiety by his disappearance, forbids him in future to
leave his sight for a moment. When, after some years,
he is able to visit the place where his lady-love dwelt, th
house had completely disappeared.
Meanwhile Toshikage's daughter gives birth to a child,
who, like many of the heroes of Chinese and Japanese
romance, is a prodigy of precocious talent and filial
devotion. At the age of five he sustains his mother by
the fish which he catches, and at a later time brings her
UTSUBO MONOGATARI 87
fruit and roots from the mountains. Finding, however,
that this obHges him to leave her too much alone, he
seeks a place in the woods where he can lodge her, and
finds a great hollow 1 tree, which he thought would serve
his purpose. It is already the home of a family of bears.
They are about to devour the intruder, when he remon-
strates with them as follows : —
" Stay a little and do not destroy my life, for I am a
filial child, the support of my mother, who lives all alone
in a ruined house, without parents, or brothers, or any
one to attend upon her. As I could do nothing for her
Mn the village where we live, I come to this mountain to
get her fruit and roots. Having to climb up lofty peaks,
and to descend into deep valleys, I leave home in the
morning and return when it is dark. This is a source of
great distress to us. I therefore thought of bringing her
to this hollow tree, not knowing it to be the dwelling of
such a king of the mountain. ... If there is any part
of me which is not useful for my mother's support, I will
sacrifice it to you. But without feet how could I go
about ? Without hands how could I gather fruit or dig
up roots for her ? Without a mouth where w^ould the
breath of life find a passage ? Without a breast where
would my heart find a lodgment ? In this body there is
no part which is not of service except the lobes of my
ears and the tip of my nose. These I ofifer to the king
of the mountain."
This discourse moves the bears to tears, and they at
once give up the hollow tree to him and seek a home
elsewhere.
The mother and son live here for many years, being
supplied with food by a number of monkeys. They are
^ "Hollow" is in Japanese utsubo, whence the name of the whole work.
88 JAPANESE LITERATURE |
ultimately discovered by the father, who comes here on
a hunting expedition. He builds them a fine mansion in
Kioto, in which they all live happily ever after.
The Hamamatsu Chiunagon Monogatari is a story of
a Japanese noble who goes to China and has an amour
with the Empress. He brings back to Japan with him a
child who was the fruit of their union. The author is
unknown. It belongs to the second half of the tenth
century.
The story called Ochikubo Monogatari 2X'$>o belongs to the
second half of the tenth century. Mabuchi would assign
it to the period from 967 to 969. Its author is said to be
one Minamoto no Shitagaii, a small official and famous
scholar, who flourished in the reigns of the Mikados
Murakami, Reizei, and Yenyu. The name Ochikubo
means ^^underground cavity." The heroine, a young
lady of noble birth, is confined in a room underground
by her step-mother. She has a very miserable time, until
by the help of a female servant she makes the acquaint-
ance of a young nobleman, who assists her to escape. Of
course they are married and live happily ever after.
A work named Sumiyoshi Monogatari is mentioned
in the Makura Zoshi, Critics, however, are agreed
that the book now known by that name is a forgery of
a later date. It is also a story of a wicked step-mother
(a favourite character of far-eastern fiction), and of the
events which led in due course to her condign punish-
ment.
The author of the Yamato Monogatari is really un-
known, though it has been ascribed by some to Shige-
haru, a son of Narihira, the hero of the Ise Monogatari^
and by others to the Mikado Kwazan. It is an imitation
of the Ise Monogatari^ but is much inferior to its model,
YAMATO MONOGATARI 89
and the style is wanting in clearness and conciseness. It
is a collection of stories adorned with Tanka after the
manner of the earlier work. There is, however, no con-
necting link between them. The following is one of the
best known of the series : —
^' A long time ago there dwelt a maid in the province
of Tsu. She was wooed by two lovers, one of whom,
Mubara by name, lived in the same province ; the other,
called Chinu, belonged to the province of Idzumi.
"Now these youths were of like age, and were also
alike in face, form, and stature. The maid thought of
accepting the one who loved her best, but here, too, no
difference could be found between them. When night
fell they both came together, and when they made her
presents, the presents of both were alike. Neither of
them could be said to surpass the other, so that the
maiden was sore distressed in mind. If their devotion
had been of vulgar sort she would have refused them
both. But as for days and months the one and the other
presented themselves at her door, and showed their love
in all manner of ways, their attentions made her utterly
wretched. Both persisted in coming with their like gifts
of all kinds, notwithstanding that they were not accepted.
Her parents said to her, Mt is a pity that month after
month and year after year should pass in this unseemly
manner. It is wearisome to listen to the laments of these
men, and all to no purpose. If you married one, the
other's love would cease.' The girl replied, ^ I think so
too, but I am sorely perplexed by the sameness of the
men's love. What am I to do ? ' Now in those days
people lived in tents on the bank of the river Ikuta.
Accordingly the parents sent for the two lovers and said
to them, ^Our child is sorely perplexed by the equality
90 JAPANESE LITERATURE
I
of the love shown by you two gentlemen. But we inten(
to-day, in one way or another, to come to a decision. Oni
of you is a stranger from a distant place ; the other,
dweller here, has taken trouble beyond measure. Th<
conduct of both of you has our warm sympathy.' Botl
heard this with respectful joy. *Now, what we pro
posed to say to you,' continued the parents, 'was this
aim your arrows at one of the water-fowl floating on thi
river. We will give our daughter to the one who hits it
'An excellent plan,' said they. But when they shot a'
it, one hit it on the head and the other near the tai
Thereupon the maiden, more profoundly embarrasse
than ever, exclaimed —
' Weary of life^
My body I will cast away
Into the river Ikuta^
In the land of Tsu.
Ikuta ! 1 to me a name and nothing more ! '
"With these words she plunged into the river whicl
flowed below the tent. Amid the frantic cries of thi
parents, the two lovers forthwith leaped into the strean
at the same place. One seized her by the foot, the othe
took hold of her arm, and both died along with her. Thi
parents, wild with grief, took up her body and buried
with tears and lamentations. The parents of the lover
also came and built tombs on each side of the sepulchn
of the maiden. But when the time of burial came, thi
parents of the youth of the land of Tsu objected, saying
' That a man of the same province should be buried ii
the same place is but right and proper, but how can it hi
allowed that a stranger should intrude upon our soil ?
So the parents of the Idzumi wooer brought over in shipj
1 Ikuta means "living field."
YAMATO MONOGATARI 91
earth from the province of Idznmi, and at length buried
their son. The maiden's tomb is in the middle, and those
of her lovers on each side, as may be seen unto this day."
The present writer once made a pious pilgrimage to
these tombs, which are still in existence not far from the
treaty port of Kobe. He was not a little surprised to
find that they were immense tumuli, certainly the
sepulchres of much more exalted personages than the
heroes of the above tale. Not only so, but the so-called
lovers' tombs are a mile away on each side from that of
the fair lady for whom they died. On one of them, sad
to say, there was growing a thriving crop of cabbages,
planted by some irreverent, or more likely ignorant,
Japanese. The Ikuta river must have greatly changed
since the days of this story. It now sends to the sea a
volume of water about equal to that of the stream which
waters the public gardens at Bournemouth, and where,
needless to say, death by drowning is impossible.
CHAPTER IV
" GENJI MONOGATARI » i
We now come to two works which by common conseni
mark the highest point to which the classical literature
of Japan attained, namely, the Genji Monogatari and th(
Makiira Zoshi. The authors were contemporaries, an(
both of them were women.
The real name of the author of the Genji Monogatari has
not come down to us. She is known to history as MuRA-
SAKi NO Shikibu. Critics are not agreed as to the reason
why she was called Murasaki, a word which means
" purple," nor does it greatly matter. Shikibu, if it meant
anything, would indicate that she was in some way con-
nected with the Board of Rites. It was, however,
customary at this time for the ladies of the court to take
to themselves fancy official designations which had no
particular application. In her case the name was per-
haps suggested by the circumstance that her father held
office in that Department.
Murasaki no Shikibu belonged to a junior branch of
the great Fujiwara family, or rather clan, which held so
distinguished a position in Japan during many centuries
of its history, and which has produced such numbers of
^ There is a translation of the first seventeen (out of fifty-four) chapters of
this work by K. Suyematsu. Although a highly creditable performance under
the circumstances, it is not satisfactory. The translator had not Motoori's
commentary before him, and the Kogetsusho edition is a very uncertain guide.
GENJI MONOGATARI 93
Mikados^ statesmen, literati, and poets. Her father had
a reputation for scholarship, and others of her family
were poets of some note. Murasaki no Shikibu herself
displayed a love of learning at an early age. She was
well versed both in Japanese and Chinese literature, and
her father often wished that such talents and learning
had not been wasted on a girl. Married to another
Fujiwara, she lost her husband after a short time, and
seems to have then attached herself to the Empress
Akiko, also a Fujiwara and fond of learned pursuits. This
would explain her familiarity with the ceremonies and
institutions of the court of Kioto. Her writings bear
unmistakable testimony to the fact that she moved in
the best circles of her time and country.
The Genji is generally supposed to have been finished
in A.D. 1004, but this date has been disputed, and it may
have been composed a few years earlier. There is a
pleasing legend which associates its composition with the
Temple of Ishiyama at the southern end of Lake Biwa,
where the river Uji issues from it. To this beautiful spot,
it is said, Murasaki no Shikibu retired from court life to
devote the remainder of her days to literature and religion.
There are sceptics, however, Motoori being one, who
refuse to believe this story, pointing out, after the manner
of their kind, that it is irreconcilable with known facts.
On the other hand, the very chamber in the temple
where the Genji was written is shown — with the ink-slab
which the author used, and a Buddhist Sutra in her hand-
writing, which, if they do not satisfy the critic, still are
sufficient to carry conviction to the minds of ordinary
visitors to the temple.
The Genji Monogatari is a novel. There is nothing
remarkable, it may be said, in a woman excelling in this
94 JAPANESE LITERATURE
branch of literature. But Murasaki no Shikibu did more
than merely write a successful novel. Like Fielding
in England, she was the creator in Japan of this kind of
fiction — the prose epic of real life, as it has been called
In the quality of her genius, however, she more resembled
Fielding's great contemporary Richardson. Before her
time we have nothing but stories of no great length, and
of a romantic character far removed from the realities of
daily life. The Genji Monogatari is realistic in the best
sense of the word. Here we see depicted men and
women, especially women, as they are, in their everyday
lives and surroundings, their sentiments and passions
their faults and weaknesses. The author does not aim at
startling or horrifying her readers, and she has a whole
some abhorrence for all that is sensational, unnatural,
monstrous, or improbable. Such a hero as the nine-
teenth-century novelist Bakin's Tametomo, who has two
pupils to his eyes and one arm longer than the other,
and who, after falling over a cliff many thousand feet
high, presently picks himself up and walks home several
miles as if nothing had happened, would have seemed to
her as ridiculous as he does to ourselves. There are few
dramatic situations in the Genjiy and what little of mira
culous and supernatural it contains is of a kind which
might well be believed by a contemporary reader. The
story flows on easily from one scene of real life to another
giving us a varied and minutely detailed picture of life
and society at Kioto such as we possess for no other
country at the same period.
The hero is the son of a Mikado by a favourite con-
cubine, whose colleagues are all jealous of the preference
shown her, and are continually annoying her in a petty
way. She takes this so much to heart that she falls ill
GENJI MONOGATARI 95
and dies. Her death is related with much pathos. Genji
grows up to be a handsome and accomphshed youth of
a very susceptible disposition, and his history is mainly
an account of his numerous love affairs, and of his ulti-
mate union with Murasaki, a heroine in all respects
worthy of him. It continues the story up to his death
at the age of fifty-one. The last ten books, which relate
chiefly to one of Genji's sons, are by some considered a
separate work.
The style of the Genji has been called ornate. The
writer who applied this epithet to it was probably think-
ing of the courtly honorifics with which it is in many
places burdened. But there is much excuse for this.
The Genji is a novel of aristocratic life. Most of the
characters are personages of rank, in describing whose
sayings and actions a courtly style of speech is indis-
pensable. To a Japanese it would be simply shocking
to say that a Mikado has breakfast — he augustly deigns
to partake of the morning meal, and so on. The Euro-
pean reader finds this irritating and tiresome at first, but
he soon gets accustomed to it. In truth, such language
is in entire consonance with the elaborate ceremonial,
the imposing but cumbrous costumes, and much else of
the rather artificial life of the Japanese court of the time.
Apart from this the style of the Genji is not more ornate
than that, let us say, of Robinson Crusoe, and incom-
parably less so than that of many Japanese books of
later date. It is free from any redundance of descriptive
adjectives or profusion of metaphors such as we are
accustomed to associate with the word ornate.
Others have objected to the style of the Genji as
wanting in brevity. It must be admitted that its long,
involved sentences contrast strongly with the direct, con-
96 JAPANESE LITERATURE
cise manner of the he Monogatari. But, as Motoor
points out, a brief style may be a bad one, and lengthy
sentences full of detail may best fit the subject. Mura
saki no Shikibu's fulness is not prolixity. On clos(
examination it will be found that there is nothing super
fluous in the abundant details of her narrative. That is
her method, and is essential to the effect she aims a'
producing.
The Genji is not intrinsically a very difficult work, anc
no doubt the author's contemporaries found it quite easjj
to understand. But since then the language, institu
tions, and manners and customs of Japan have changec
so much as greatly to obscure the meaning, not onl)
to European students, but to the Japanese themselves
Piles of commentary by native editors have been accumu
lated over it, and their interpretations are often so blun
dering and inadequate that Motoori found it necessary tc
devote to its elucidation a critical work ^ in nine volumes
mostly taken up with correcting the errors of his prede-
cessors.
The enormous bulk of the Genji will always remair
another obstacle to its just appreciation by European
readers. It is in fifty-four books, which in the standarc
(but not very satisfactory) Kogetsusho edition run to nc
less than 4234 pages. The genealogical tree alone o
the personages which figure in it, comprising severa
Mikados, a crowd of Princes, Princesses, and Imperia
consorts, with a host of courtiers, occupies eighty pages.
Japanese critics claim for the Genji that it surpasse
anything of the kind in Chinese literature, and eved
deserves to be ranked with the masterpieces of European
fiction. None, however, but an extreme Japanophile
^ The Tama no Ogushi. It was left unfinished at his death.
GENJI MONOGATARI 97
(the species is not altogether unknown) will go so far as
to place Murasaki no Shikibu on a level with Fielding,
Thackeray, Victor Hugo, Dumas, and Cervantes. On
the other hand, it is unjust to dismiss her surdmarily
with the late M. George Bousquet as ^' cette ennuyeuse
Scudery japonaise," a verdict endorsed by Mr. Chamber-
lain. There are in the Genji pathos, humour, an abundant
flow of pleasing sentiment, keen observation of men and
manners, an appreciation of the charms of nature, and
a supreme command of the resources of the Japanese
language, which in her hands reached its highest point
of excellence. Though never melodramatic, she gives
us plenty of incident, and is seldom dull. A scholar, she
abhorred pedantry and fine writing, the bane of so many
of the modern novelists of Japan.
It is unnecessary to discuss here the opinion of some
Japanese writers, that the Genji was written to inculcate
Buddhist doctrine, or the notion of others, that the teach-
ing of Confucian morality was its aim. Nor need we
trouble ourselves with the suggestion that it is a novel
a clef, and that the personages are to be identified with
real persons who were alive at the time when it was
written. As Motoori very justly observes, all these ideas
show an ignorance of the true object of novel-writing,
which is to excite our sympathies, and to interest and
amuse by the presentation of a picture of real life.
Another subject much dwelt on by native critics is the
morality of the Genji, some denouncing it, as it deserves,
while others strive to defend what even from the Japanese
point of view is indefensible. Truth to say, the laxity of
morals which it depicts is deplorable. It is a satisfaction
to add that it belongs to the age and country in which
the author lived, and that her own private life is admit-
G
98 JAPANESE LITERATURE
tedly free from any stain of this kind. Of coarsenesj
and pruriency, moreover, there is none in the Genjiy oi
indeed in the literature of this period generally. The
language is almost invariably decent, and even refined
and we hardly ever meet with a phrase calculated tc
bring a blush to the cheek of a young person.
It is difficult to give much idea of the Genji by quota
tion. The following passages may serve as well as an^
others for this purpose ; but the writer is conscious tha'
here, more perhaps than anywhere else in Japanes
literature, the chasm which divides us in thought, senti
ment, and language from the Far East forms an insuper-
able obstacle to communicating to a translation th
undoubted charm of the original.
Genji, aged sixteen, discusses feminine character with
young friend : — *'
" It was an evening in the wet season. Without, the rair
was falling drearily, and even in the Palace hardly any on
was to be seen. In Genji's quarters there was an unusua
sense of stillness. He was engaged in reading by th
light of a lamp when it occurred to him to take out from
a cupboard which was close by some letters written on
paper of various tints. The Chiujo [his friend] wai
inordinately eager to have a look at them. * There an
a few of a kind that I can let you see,' said Genji, * bu
there are others that are imperfect ; ' and these h(
refused to show him. ^Oh ! but it is just those writter
without reserve and couched in moving language that '.
like. Commonplace ones don't count. What I wish tc
see are letters which reveal the various circumstances oj
the writers. When they are inspired by petulant jealousy
or written at the hour of eve — a prey to passionate
longings and the like — it is then that they are worth
GEN J I MONOGATARI 99
reading.' It was unlikely that any which demanded the
strictest secrecy should be left lying about in an ordinary
cupboard. Such were no doubt carefully concealed, and
these were of the second order of intimacy. Genji there-
fore, being thus pressed, allowed his friend to read
passages from them here and there. ^ What a variety ! '
said the Chiujo, and began to guess at the authors. ' This
is from so-and-so, is it not ? — that from such another ? '
he inquired. Sometimes he guessed right, and even when
he missed the mark Genji was much amused by his infer-
ences and suspicions. But he said little and maintained
his reserve, putting his friend off with dubious answers.
' You must have a collection of your own,' said Genji.
'Will you not let me see a few of them ? In that case,
my cupboard would open its doors more cheerfully.' ' I
am sure none of mine would be worth your while to read,'
replied the Chiujo. ' I have at last [he was aged sixteen]
discovered,' continued he, ' how hard it is to find a
woman of whom it may be said, " Here at any rate is the
one. Here no fault can be found." There are plenty
who may be considered fairly tolerable, girls of super-
ficial sensibilities, ready with their pens, and competent
to give intelligent responses ^ upon occasion. But how
hard it is to pitch upon any of whom you can say that
here is one who compels your choice. Often they have
no thought for any accomplishments but such as they
themselves possess, and depreciate those of others in a
most provoking way. Some, again, there are, made
much of by their parents and not allowed to leave their
side, who, while they remain within the lattice which
bounds their future, may no doubt make an impression
on the hearts of men who have had little opportunity of
^ Probably poetical responses of thirty-one syllables are meant.
lOO JAPANESE LITERATURE
really knowing them. They may be young, attractive
and of sedate manners ; and so long as they are withou
external distractions, they will naturally, by the assiduou
imitation of others, gain some skill in frivolous pastimes
But their friends will screen their defects and represen
their good qualities in the best light. How is anybody
to condemn them in his own mind without a proof, anc
say to himself, " That is not so " ? Whereas if we believe
all that is said of them, we are sure to find on furthei
acquaintance that they fall in our estimation.' Here th(
Chiujo paused, ashamed of his own precipitancy. Genj
smiled, thinking of something of the same kind, thougl
not absolutely so, in his own experience, and said, ^ Bu
surely they have all some good points ? ' ' Just so,
replied the Chiujo. * If they had none, who would b<
taken in ? Of those utterly sorry creatures who an
beneath notice, and of the superior women for whose
accomplishments we feel an unqualified admiration, th
numbers are alike few. Those born in a high station an
made much of by their friends, and their faults are con
cealed, so that in outward appearance they are naturally
second to none. In the middle class, there is greate
freedom of expression of individual feeling, and thus thi
means are afforded of distinguishing among them. A
for those of the lowest station of all, they are quite un
worthy of our attention.' "
Here Genji and the Chiujo are joined by two othe:
friends. The conversation is continued at considerabli
length, and various types of womanhood are discussec
with illustrative anecdotes drawn from the speakers
experience. This passage, known as the Shina-sadame
or Critique (of women), is much admired by the Japanese
and is considered by critics to be the kernel of the whol
GENJI MONOGATARI loi
work, the chief idea of which is to present to the reader
;i picture of various types of womanhood.
Genji, having retired to a monastery in order to be
exorcised for ague, espies in a neighbouring temple a
young girl who is living with her grandmother, a nun,
and who is destined to fix his vagrant fancy at a later
period.
"At this season the days were very long, and time passed
slowly ; so under cover of the deep evening mist he
appro:iched the low hedge of which he had been told.
Here he sent back all his attendants, retaining with him
only Koremitsu. Peeping through the hedge, he could
see straight before him the western front of the house,
where there was a nun performing her devotions before
a private image of Buddha. She raised up the hanging
screen and made an offering of flowers. Then taking her
place by the middle pillar, she placed a Sutra on an arm-
rest, and proceeded to read it in a voice which betrayed
much suffering. This nun seemed no ordinary person.
She was something over forty years of age. Her com-
plexion was fair, and she had an air of distinction. She
was thin, but her face had a puffy appearance from ill
health. Whilst looking at her, Genji was struck with the
beauty of her hair, which seemed rather to have gained
in elegance by having been cut. ^ Two comely grown-
up women were in waiting on her.
" Now there were some children playing in and out of
the room. One of them, who might be perhaps ten years
of age, wore a white silk gow^n lined with yellow, and not
too new. She had no resemblance to the attendants or
to the rest of the children, and her beauty seemed to give
^ Nuns at this time did not shave their heads, but only trimmed the hair
short.
^
102 JAPANESE LITERATURE
promise of a future for her. Her hair was tossed in
waves like an expanded fan, and her eyes were red with
weeping. The nun looked up when she saw her near, and
said, *What is the matter ? Have you been quarrelling
with some of the children ? ' As Genji looked at them,
it occurred to him that there was a resemblance, and that
the little girl was probably her daughter. ^ Inuki has let
go my sparrow that 1 had put under a basket,' said she
dolefully. The waiting-woman exclaimed, ' He is always
doing thoughtless things like that and plaguing the poor
girl, all because he does not get scolded enough. I
wonder where it has gone to ? It had at last become so
delightful, and now I'm afraid the crows have discoverec^
it.' So saying, she went out.
" This woman's hair hung down loose and was very long.
She was a pleasant-looking woman. The others called
her Nurse Shonagon, and she seemed to have charge o
this child. ^Come now ! be a good girl,' said the nun
* and don't do such naughty things. You forget that my
life is but for to-day or to-morrow, and you can think of
nothing but your sparrow. Haven't I often told you that
it was a sin [to keep birds in a cage]. You pain me
greatly. Come here, child.' The little girl stood forward
with a rueful expression of face, and a mist hanging
round her eyebrows. The contour of her forehead, from
which the hair was combed back in childish fashion, and
the style of her hair itself were very lovely. ^ What
charming girl she will be when she is grown up ! ' thought
Genji, and his eyes dwelt on her with interest. She
greatly resembled one to whom formerly his whole heart
had been given, and at the thought his tears began to fall.
The nun, stroking the little girl's head, said, ^ What beau-
tiful hair, though you think it so much trouble to have
GENJI MONOGATARI 103
it combed ! 1 am greatly concerned that you are so
frivolous. At your age some girls are so different. When
your late mother was married at the age of twelve she
had an extraordinary amount of good sense. But now if
you were to lose me, what would become of you ? ' And
she burst out weeping. Genji, at this sight, was moved
unawares to sorrow for her. The little girl, child as she
was, looked at her, and with downcast eyes bent her head
to the ground, so that her hair fell loosely forward, showing
a lustre that was very beautiful.
' There is no sky \weather\ to dry up
The dew [of my tears'] at leavifig behind
The tender herb
That knows not where shall be its abode
When it has reached full growth.^
** So the nun. * True,' said the other waiting-woman
[not the girl's nurse], and with tears answered her —
' So long as the first blades of grass
Know not what will be their future when grow?i up,
How can the dew
Think of becoming dried? ' "
This notice may be fitly closed by the following poem,
in which Motoori in his old age expressed his intention of
returning, if time permitted, to the study of the Genji: —
" So dearly do I love them^
Again I would come to see
The violets on the plains of spring
Which I left ungathered —
Though to-day I may not pluck them?"^
The author of the Genji Monogatari wrote a diary
called Murasaki no Shikibu Nikkzy which has come down
to us. It is not without merit, but its fame has been
wholly eclipsed by that of her greater work.
CHAPTER V
"MAKURA ZOSHI"
With the Genji Monogatari the Japanese associate the
Makui'a Zoshi or ^^ Pillow Sketches " of Sei Sh on agon
as of equal excellence, although different in form and
character. The author, like Murasaki no Shikibu, was
a lady of high rank, her father, who was a poet of some
fame, being descended from the Prince who compiled
the Nihongi. Her learning and talents obtained for her
the honour of being appointed Lady-in-waiting to the
Empress. On the death of the latter in A.D. looo, she
retired from the world, some say to a convent, where she
received to the last marks of the esteem of her former
master, the Mikado Ichigo. Others, however, describe
her condition as one of great poverty and misery.
The title ^* Pillow Sketches " is explained by some to
mean that she kept the manuscript by her pillow and
jotted down her thoughts and observations when going
to bed and when getting up in the morning. It is more
probable, however, that it is an allusion to an anecdote
which she herself relates in a postscript : —
" It has become too dark for literary work, and my pen
is worn out. I will bring these sketches to a close. They
are a record of that which I have seen with my eyes and
felt in my heart, not written that others might read them,
but put together to solace the loneliness of my home life.
104
MAKURA ZOSHI 105
When I think how I tried to keep them secret, conscious
of vulgar and exaggerated remarks which have escaped
me, the tears flow uncontrollably.
" One day when I was in attendance on the Empress,
she showed me some paper which had been given her by
the Naidaijin. 'What is to be written on this?' said
her Majesty. 'The Mikado has had something they call
History written on his.' ' It will do nicely for pillows/ I
replied. ' Then take it,' said she. So I tried to use up
this immense supply by writing down strange matters of
all kinds without any connection or sequence."
The Makura Zoshi is the first example of a style of
writing which afterwards became popular in Japan under
the name of Zuihitsu or " following the pen." There is
no sort of arrangement. The author sets down upon the
spur of the moment anything which occurs to her.
Stories, descriptive enumerations of dismal, incongruous,
abominable and dreary things, lists of flowers, mountains,
rivers, sketches of social and domestic life, thoughts
suggested by ^the contemplation of nature, and much
more form her farrago libelli.
Unlike the author of the Genji, who loses herself in the
characters which she describes, the personality of Sei
Shonagon comes out distinctly in everything which she has
written. The clever, somewhat cynical, cultured woman
of the world is always present to the reader. Her tastes
and predilections are made known at considerable length,
and she does not mind being her own Boswell, not
failing to record in her '' Pillow Sketches " any apt
quotation or neat retort which she may have made.
Subsequent writers do not acquit her, as they do
Murasaki no Shikibu, of a personal share in the amorous
intrigues which formed so large a part of life among the
io6 JAPANESE LITERATURE
upper classes of Kioto at this period. It may be readily
gathered from her writings that she was no stranger to
" The politic arts
To take and keep metHs hearts j
The letters^ embassies^ and spies^
The frowns^ and smiles^ and flatteries^
The quarrels^ tears ^ and perjuries^
Numberless^ nameless mysteries^^
of Cowley's poem.
The following extracts will give some idea of th(
general character of the work. The four seasons forn
the subject of the opening chapter : —
'^ In spring/' the author says, " I love to watch th(
dawn grow gradually whiter and whiter, till a faint ros]
tinge crowns the mountain's crest, while slender streak
of purple cloud extend themselves above."
^* In summer, I love the night, not only when th<
moon is shining, but the dark too, when the fireflies crosi
each other's paths in their flight, or when the rain i:
faUing."
" In autumn, it is the beauty of the evening whicl
most deeply moves me, as I watch the crows seeking
their roosting-place in twos and threes and fours, whil
the setting sun sends forth his beams gorgeously as b
draws near the mountain's rim. Still more is it delightfu
to see the lines of wild geese pass, looking exceedini
small in the distance. And when the sun has quite gon
down, how moving it is to hear the chirruping of insect
or the sighing of the wind ! "
" In winter, how unspeakably beautiful is the snow
But I also love the dazzling whiteness of the hoar-frosi
and the intense cold even at other times. Then it ij
meet quickly to fetch charcoal and kindle fires. And let
MAKURA ZOSHI 107
not the gentle warmth of noon persuade us to allow the
embers of the hearth or of the brazier to become a white
heap of ashes ! "
The Exorcist
" What a pity it is to make a priest of a child whom one
loves ! How painful it must be to have to regard as so
many bits of stick the things which are in life the most
desirable ! Priests have to go to bed after a meal of
wretched fasting diet, and are blamed if, when young,
they so much as take a sly peep into places where there
are attractive girls. The life of an exorcist priest is
particularly hard. What dreadful experiences he must
have on his pilgrimages to Mitake, Kumano, and all the
other sacred monasteries ! Even after he has gained a
fame for unction and is sent for on all occasions, his very
reputation is a bar to his repose. What a labour it must
be to drive out the evil spirit from the sick man he is in
attendance on ! And yet if he dozes a little out of sheer
exhaustion, he is promptly reprimanded, and told that
he does nothing but sleep. How embarrassed he must
feel ! "
The exorcist is much sympathised with by the author.
In another place she says —
*'When the exorcist is summoned to drive out an evil
spirit, he puts on a consequential air as he distributes his
maces and bells to those who are present. Then he
drones out his chant in tones like the note of the cicada.
But suppose that the demon is not a whit disturbed, and
that the spells are of no avail ? The whole household, who
had joined in the prayers, begin to wonder. Still he goes
on hour after hour till he is utterly weary. At last he
sees that it is useless, so he lets them get up and takes
io8 JAPANESE LITERATURE
back his maces and bells with a confession of failun
How he ruffles back his hair and scratches his head
with many a yawn he lays himself down to sleep ! "
Visit of the Empress to a Court Noble
"When the Empress visited the Daishin Narimasa^
her carriage went in by the East Gate, which is wide
with four pillars. Her women, however, preferred to
have their carriages go round to the North Gate, where
there were no guards. Some who had not done up theii
hair thought to themselves with some disdain, " Oh, w(
shall drive up to the door, so we need not be verj
particular." But the palm-leaf-covered carriages stucl
fast in the narrow portal, and there was no possibility o:
getting in. So the usual path of matting was laid, an(
we were told to get down, to our no small annoyance
and indignation. But there was no help for it. It was
provoking to see the courtiers and servants standing
together in the guard-room to watch us pass. Whei
we came before her Majesty, and told her what hac
happened, she only laughed at us, saying, ^ Is then
nobody looking at you now ? How can you be sc
untidy ? ' * Yes,' replied I, ^ but everybody here is usee
to us, and would be greatly surprised if we took special
pains about our appearance. To think that a mansion
like this should have a gate too small to admit a car-<
riage ! I shall have a good laugh at the Daishin
when I meet him.' Presently he came in bringing th(
Empress's ink-stone and writing materials. ^ This is too
bad of you,' said I. ' How can you live in a house with
such a narrow gate ? ' To which he replied with a smile,
that his house was on a scale suited to his station. * And
MAKURA ZOSHI 109
vet,' said I, * I have heard of a man who had his gate,
though nothing more, made too large for his personal
requirements.' 'Well, to be sure,' said the Daishin,
with astonishment, ' you refer, of course, to U Teikoku
[a Chinese worthy]. Who would have thought that
any one but a venerable pundit knew aught of that ? I
myself have occasionally strayed into the paths of learn-
ing, and fully comprehend your allusion.' ' Indeed,
then,' returned I, ' your paths are none of the most
sensible. There was a nice disturbance, I can tell you,
when we found ourselves entrapped into walking along
your matted paths.' ' I fear you must have been incom-
moded,' he replied. 'And it was raining, too. But I
must attend the Empress.' Saying which, he made his
exit.
" ' What was it put Narimasa out so much ? ' the
Empress inquired of me later. ' Oh, nothing,' I said ;
* I was only telling him of our misadventure at his
gate.'
Domestic Scene in the Mikado's Palace
"On the sliding doors of the northern front of the
Mikado's private apartments there are painted fearful
pictures of creatures that live in the wild ocean, some
with long arms, others with long legs. When the doors
of the ante-chamber are open we can always see them.
One day towards noon, while we were laughing and
talking about them, saying what hideous things they
are, and were engaged in setting great flower-pots of
green porcelain ^ by the balustrade of the verandah, and
filling them with an abundance of the most delightful
^ Probably of the kind now known to connoisseurs as Seiji.
no JAPANESE LITERATURE
1
cherry branches five feet long, so that the blossoms over
flowed to the foot of the railing, his Excellency th
Dainagon [the Empress's brother] approached. He ha
on a cherry-coloured tunic, enough worn to have lost it
stiffness, and dark purple trousers. His white under
clothing, showing at the neck, displayed a gay pattern o
a deep crimson hue. As the Mikado was then with the
Empress, he seated himself on the narrow platform
before the door and made some report to him on officia
matters.
''The waiting-women, with their cherry-coloured sleeve-
less jackets hanging down loosely by their sides, some
dressed in wistaria [purple], some in kerria [yellowj
and all manner of lovely colours, showed out from the
screen of the small hatch. Just then dinner was servec
in the Imperial apartments. We could hear the tramp-
ling of the attendants' feet, and the cry ' Less noise
from one of the chamberlains. The serene aspect o
the weather was exceedingly agreeable. When the las
dishes had been served, a butler came and announcec
dinner. The Mikado went away by the middle door^
attended by his Excellency the Dainagon, who subse
quently returned to his former place beside the flowers,
The Empress then pushed aside the curtain, and came
forward as far as the threshold to greet him. He re
marked on the beauty of the surroundings and the good
deportment of the servants, and ended by quoting the
line of poetry which says —
' The days and months roll on,
But the Mount of Mimoro remains for ever.^
" I was deeply impressed, and wished in my heart that
so it might indeed continue for a thousand years.
MAKURA ZOSHI m
The Attack of the Dog Okinamaro upon the Cat
MiYOBU no Otodo
'' The august Cat-in-waiting on the Mikado was a very
delightful animal, and a great favourite with his Majesty,
who conferred on her the fifth rank of nobility and the
title of Miyobu no Otodo, or Chief Superintendent of
the Female Attendants of the Palace. One day she had
gone out on to the bridge between two of the buildings
of the Palace, when the nurse in charge of her called
out, ^ How improper 1 Come in at once.' But the cat
paid no attention, and went on basking drowsily in the
sun. So in order to frighten her, ^ Where is Okina-
maro ? ' cried the nurse. ^ Okinamaro ! bite Miyobu no
Otodo.' The foolish dog, thinking she was in earnest,
flew at the cat, who in her fright and consternation took
refuge behind the screen of the breakfast-room where
his Majesty then was. The Mikado was greatly shocked
and agitated. He took the cat into his august bosom,
and summoning the chamberlain Tadataka, gave orders
that Okinamaro should have a good thrashing and be
banished to Dog Island at once. The attendants gave
chase to Okinamaro amid great confusion. They soon
caught him, and sent him away as they were ordered.
'' Alas, poor dog ! He used to swagger about so much
at his ease. When on the third day of the third month
he was led along with a willow wreath upon his head,
and adorned with flowers of peach and cherry, did he
ever think that it would come to this ? At meal times he
used always to be in attendance, and now, when three
or four days passed without him, we missed him greatly.
One day at noon there was a tremendous noise of a
112 JAPANESE LITERATURE
dog's howling. All the other dogs rushed to the spot ii
excitement to see what made him go on yelping so
Meanwhile a scavenger-woman of the Palace came to ui
running. 'Oh! how terrible!' exclaimed she. 'Tw(
of the chamberlains are beating a dog till he is nearly
dead. They say they are chastising him for having come
back after he was banished.' My heart told me tha
it was Okinamaro who was being beaten by Tadataks
and Sanefusa. I was just sending to stop them when th
howling ceased. I was then told that he was dead, anc
that his body had been flung away outside the gate. A
sundown, when we were all pitying his fate, a wretched
looking dog, trembling all over, walked in, his bodj
fearfully and amazingly swollen. ' Can this be Okina-
maro ? ' we said. ' No such dog has been seen abou
here recently.' We called to him by his name, but h(
took no notice. Some said it was he, others that it wai
not. The Empress sent for a lady who knew him well
' Is this Okinamaro ? ' she said, pointing to him. ' It
like him,' replied she, 'but is too utterly loathsome tc
be our dog. Besides, when one called to Okinamaro b]
name, he came joyfully ; but this animal won't com
It cannot be Okinamaro. And then Okinamaro wai
killed and his body thrown away. He can't possibly b<
alive after the beating he got from the two chamberlains
When it got dark he was offered something to eat, bu
he refused it, so we made up our minds that it could not
be our friend. The next morning when I went to atten
the Empress at her toilet, and had served her wash-han^
basin and her mirror, a dog came to the foot of one o
the pillars. ' Alas ! ' cried the Empress, ' what a terribl
beating Okinamaro seems to have got last night. I am'
so sorry that he is dead. I suppose he now looks some-
)t
1
MAKURA ZOSHI 113
thing like that animal. He must have suffered miserably.'
At this moment the dog lying by the pillar trembled and
shook, and poured forth a flood of tears, to our intense
amazement. This was Okinamaro after all, and his
refusal on the previous day to come when he was called
was for fear of betraying himself. The Empress was
touched and delighted beyond measure. She put down
her mirror and called to him, ^ Okinamaro ! ' The dog
laid himself flat on the ground and yelped loudly, at
which the Empress was greatly amused. Everybody
gathered round, and there was much talking and laugh-
ing. The Mikado himself, when he heard of it, came
in, and smilingly expressed his amazement at the good
sense shown by a dog."
The reader will be glad to hear that Okinamaro's
sentence of banishment was reversed ; he was well
treated, and in a short time was his old self again.
But the author was not always so tender-hearted
towards dogs. Among '^ Detestable Things " she enume-
rates—
A dog who barks in recognition of your lover when
he comes to pay you a clandestine visit — that dog should
be killed.
A few more of her enumerations may be added.
Dreary Things.
A nursery where the child has died.
A brazier with the fire gone out.
A coachman who is hated by his ox.
The birth of a female child in the house of a learned
scholar.
A letter from one's country home with no news in it.
114 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Detestable Things.
Of these the author has a long Ust, of which th
following are a few : —
A visitor who tells a long story when you are in
hurry. If he is a person you are intimate with, you ca:
pack him off, saying that you will hear it another tim
But those whom you cannot treat in this way are ver
detestable.
An exorcist who, when sent for in a case of suddei
illness, recites his charms as if he were half asleep.
Babies that cry or dogs that bark when you want t
listen.
The snoring of a man whom you are trying to con
ceal, and who has gone to sleep in a place where he ha
no business.
A carriage which creaks so loud that you cannot hea
your friend speak. Also the friend who lent you such
carriage.
People who interrupt your stories to show off thei
own cleverness. All interrupters, young or old, are ver;
detestable.
People who, when you are telling a story, break i
with, " Oh, I know," and give quite a different versioi
from your own.
Either at home or in the palace to be roused up t(
receive an unwelcome visitor, in order to avoid whon
you have been pretending to be asleep.
While on friendly terms with a man, to hear him soun(
the praises of a woman whom he has known. This i
detestable even when some time has elapsed, much mor
so if he is still acquainted with her.
MAKURA ZOSHI 115
People who mumble a prayer when they sneeze.
N.B, — Loud sneezing is detestable, except in the case
of the gentlemen of the house.
Fleas are very detestable, especially when they get
under your clothing and jump about.
As a contrast to ^'Detestable Things/' a few "Things
which give one a Thrill " may be added : —
To see sparrows feeding their young.
To pass by where infants are playing.
To find that your Chinese (metal) mirror is beginning
to get dim.
To be asked the way by a handsome man who stops
his carriage for the purpose.
Among '^ Things which Excite Regrets for the Past/'
Sei Shonagon enumerates : —
Withered hollyhocks. (Reminding one of the festivals
they have been used for.)
On a wet day to turn over the letters of a person once
loved by us.
Last year's fans. (No doubt with sentimental Tanka
written on them.)
Bright moonlight nights.
Here are a few " Cheerful Things " : —
Coming home from an excursion with the carriages
full to overflowing, to have lots of footmen who make
the oxen go and the carriages speed along.
A river boat going down stream.
Teeth nicely blackened.
To hear a well-voiced professor of magic recite his
purification service on a river bank.
ii6 JAPANESE LITERATURE
A drink of water when awake during the night.
When in a dull mood^ to have a visitor neither so inti
mate as to be uninteresting, nor too great a stranger t<
be unreserved, who will tell us what is going on in thi
world — things pleasant or odious or strange, now touch
ing on this, now on that, private matters or public — ii
just sufficient detail not to be tedious. This is ver
agreeable.
Here follow the ^^ points" of carriage-oxen, horses
coachmen (who should be big men, of a ruddy counte
nance, and a consequential demeanour), footmen, pages
cats, and preachers. The last subject is treated at somi
length.
" A preacher," she says, " ought to be a good-lookin
man. It is then easier to keep your eyes fixed on hi
face, without which it is impossible to benefit by th(
discourse. Otherwise the eyes wander and you forget t(
listen. Ugly preachers have therefore a grave respon
sibility. But no more of this ! " She adds, however
^^ If preachers were of a more suitable age I shoul(
have pleasure in giving a more favourable judgment
As matters actually stand, their sins are too fearful t<
think of."
If any apology is needed for the length of thesi
extracts, it may be pleaded that they represent tha
which is best and at the same time most quotable ii
Japanese literature. They are taken almost exclusivel
from the first two of the twelve volumes (646 pp
of which this entertaining miscellany consists. It i
hard to realise that it was written in Japan nine hun
dred years ago. If we compare it with anything tha
Europe had to show at this period, it must be admittec
MAKURA ZOSHI 117
that it is indeed a remarkable work. What a revelation
it would be if we had the court life of Alfred's or
Canute's reign depicted to us in a similar way.
Both the Genji Monogatari and the Makura Zdshi are
only imperfectly intelligible even to educated Japanese,
and they are little read at the present day. This is to
be regretted, as modern writers would derive much
benefit from making these old masterpieces their study
and example.
CHAPTER VI
SOME MINOR WORKS
The author of the Sagoromo Monogatari was a cour
official named Daini no Sammi, the daughter of Murasak
no Shikibu. Her work, a love-story of considerab:
length, is an obvious imitation of the Genji Monogatan
but much inferior both in style and matter. It is be
lieved to have been written about a.d. 1040.
The Sarashina Nikki, by a daughter of Sugawara n<
Takasuye, a descendant in the sixth generation of th
famous statesman Sugawara no Michizane, was com
pleted in the reign of the Emperor Go Rei-zei (1046-
1068). It is the record of a journey from Shimosa t(
Kioto by the Tokaido in 1021, and of a second journe
from Kioto to Sarashina, in the province of Shinano
some years later. It is written in a vein of melanchol
sentiment, and is plentifully adorned with doleful Tank
Nothing is known as to the date and authorship o
the Torikayebaya Monogatari. It is believed to havi
been written subsequently to the SagoromOy and woul
therefore belong to the middle or end of the eleventl
century. The Torikayebaya Monogatari is a story of th(
difficulties experienced by a nobleman in the educatiot
of his two children, a boy and a girl. The boy is fond o
feminine pursuits and amusements, and the girl just th<
reverse, much to the annoyance of their father, who use(
118
UJI MONOGATARI 119
t requently to exclaim, '^ Torikayebaya ! " that is, '* Oh !
if I could only exchange them." ^ AH he can do is to
have the boy dressed in girl's clothes and treated accord-
ingly, while the girl is brought up as a boy. The results
are unsatisfactory from a moral point of view.
The author of the collection of stories entitled Uji
Monogatari was a court noble named Minamoto no
Takakuni, better known as Uji Dainagon, from his place
of residence and rank. He died A.D. 1077, at an advanced
age. Being a fat man, and greatly disliking the hot
weather, he used to retire for the summer season to Uji,
a village not far from Kioto, on the bank of the river
which flows out of Lake Biwa. Here he built a little
tea-house on the roadside near his country-seat, where
tea was offered to the passers-by. They were then in-
vited to tell stories, which the Dainagon, sitting behind
a screen, took down from their mouths. Most of the
stories so collected are obviously fictitious ; but, true
or false, they have a special interest, inasmuch as they
present a fuller and livelier picture of the lives and
ideas of the middle and lower classes than most other
works of this period.
As might be expected from the manner of its com-
pilation, the Uji Monogatari contains a large element of
folk-lore. The style is easy and unpretentious. Thirty of
the sixty thin volumes of which it consists are assigned
to Japanese stories, the remainder containing tales of
Chinese or Indian origin. Probably not all of these were
collected in the manner above described, and a certain
1 The reader may think that this is a great deal to express by the one word,
" Torikaye-ba-ya ! " It is literally " Take-change-if-oh ! " Note the absence of
personal pronouns, to the use of which the genius of the Japanese language is
averse.
I20 JAPANESE LITERATURE
proportion, it is believed, have been added by later
editors.
The following outlines of a few may give some idea of
the general character of this collection : —
A painter named Kawanari has an intimate friend, an
architect and engineer called Hida no Takumi. The
latter, having built a small square pavilion, invites his
friend to enter it. The painter approaches the south
door, when by some mechanical contrivance it shuts in
his face. When he tries to go in by the west door, it
closes and the north door opens. And so on. In
revenge for the practical joke thus played on him,
Kawanari paints on a screen the picture of a corpse so
loathsome and repulsive, that when Hida no Takumi is
made to approach it unawares he starts back in horror
and rushes out into the garden.
A Buddhist monk, a renowned player of Go, is invited
to visit a mysterious lady. With a screen interposed
between them, they play a game which ends in the total
massacre of the monk's men. The lady is never heard
of again, and is presumed to have been a supernatural
being.
A professor of magic, by some mistake in his cere-
monies, excites the wrath of the infernal demons. They
pursue him. He gets off his horse and lets it go home
by itself, while he hides among the sheaves in a rice-field
by the way. The demons follow the tracks of the horse's
feet, and the magician escapes, having learnt from the
conversation of his pursuers as they pass his hiding-
place how to circumvent them when they renew their
attack upon him.
A professor of magic goes to perform a ceremony of
purification from evil influences. His little boy, who
UJI MONOGATARI 121
accompanies him, by an inward gift is able to see a
number of devils, invisible to the ordinary eye, carrying
away the offerings of food made to them. He afterwards
becomes a great magician.
A guitar, a valued heirloom of the Mikado, disappears
mysteriously. One of the courtiers who is a great
musician traces it by its sound, and finds that it has been
purloined by a devil. On its being explained to the
devil that the guitar is a much-prized possession of the
Mikado, he at once returns it.
A young woman who is urged by her parents to take
a second husband, fortifies her refusal to do so by the
example of a swallow which had built its nest in their
house, and whose mate had been taken from it. It goes
away in the autumn, and when it comes back the follow-
ing summer it is still alone.
Among other fictitious Monogatari which have come
down to us from this period, there may be mentioned
the Idzumi Shikibu Monogatari^ the Ima Monogatari^
the Tsutsumi Chiunagon Monogatari, the Akiyo no Naga-
mo7iogatari, and the Matsuho Moftogatari, which, although
all useful for the study of the state of society at this time,
do not present any special features of literary interest.
Of many others the names only have reached us.
CHAPTER VII
"YEIGWA MONOGATARI" AND "0-KAGAMI"
It was inevitable that the Japanese language, which ha
now reached its highest degree of perfection as an instru
ment for the expression of thought, should, sooner oi
later, be applied to some more serious purpose than th
writing of poetry, stories, diaries, and other light literature
The Yeigwa Monogatari is notable as the first instance o
its being used for history. The authorship of this worh
is unknown. A not very trustworthy tradition ascribes i
to a celebrated poetess of this period named Akazome
Yemon, but as it mentions events which occurred aftei
her death, it cannot all be from her pen. She may
however, have left materials which were incorporatec
into the work of a subsequent writer. The date of its
composition is also uncertain. It must be near the en
of the eleventh century.
The Yeigwa Monogatari consists of forty books,
which cover a period of about two centuries of Japanese
history, ending with A.D. 1088. It is, however, not sc
much the general history of the country during thi
time as of the glorious rule ( Yeigwa Monogatari meanj
"A Tale of Glory") of Fujiwara no Michinaga, whc
was Chief Minister in the three reigns of Ichijo
Sanja, and Go Ichijo, and who died A.D. 1027. The
latter part of the work is the history of his twc
YEIGWA MONOGATARI 123
sons, Yorimichi and Norimichi, who succeeded to his
power.
The author's style and method have been greatly in-
fluenced by his models — the more fictitious Monogatari.
He (or she) betrays a preference for romantic episodes,
and leans to a more or less poetical and imaginative
treatment of his subject, enlivening his narrative with
anecdotes, and adorning his pages freely with the
ubiquitous Tanka.
The custom, common with romance writers at the
present day, of placing fanciful headings to every
chapter, began with this work.
The following passage illustrates the strong hold which
Buddhism had upon the Japanese nation at this period.
It may be premised that the Mikado Kwazan ascended the
throne in 985 at the age of seventeen. He was provided
with three beautiful and noble women as consorts. One
of these he became passionately fond of, and when she
died soon after, the shock was too great for a mind
in which there already lurked hereditary germs of in-
sanity : —
^^ From the beginning of the second year of Kwanwa
(986) there was an uneasy feeling in the minds of the
people, and many strange warnings were given. In the
palace also religious abstinence was frequently practised.
Moreover (at what time this began is uncertain) the
people turned their minds to religion in an extraordinary
degree, and nothing else was heard of but of one becom-
ing a nun and another entering the priesthood. When
the Mikado was informed of this, he bewailed the wretch-
edness of this transitory world. He must have thought
to himself, ' Alas ! how deep Kokiden's [his favourite
wife] sins must have been. Such as she was, her guilt
124 JAPANESE LITERATURE
[in some past existence] was surely great [or she would not
have died so young]. Oh that I could find some means
of doing away with it !' His august heart being frequently
disturbed by strange and lofty thoughts like this, the
result was apparent in his agitated demeanour. The
Prime Minister noted this with sorrow, and the Chiunagon
also, the Mikado's uncle, must in secret have been simply
heart-broken. Gonkiu, a priest of the monastery of
Kwazan, was continually sent for in order to expound
the scriptures, and the Mikado's august heart was given
up to religion in an infinite measure. His remarks about
wife and child, and the priceless treasure of the sovereign
rank, filled the Sachiuben Korenari with the utmost pity,
and this devotion to religion gave both him and the
Chiunagon great concern. ^To give up the world and
enter religion,' they said, ^ is an ordinary course to take,
but how will it be in this case ? ' Certain expressions of
his sentiments from time to time must have been due
to nought else but an evil influence proceeding from
Reizei-in [his father and predecessor on the throne, who
became insane]. Meanwhile, they noted other strange,
unwonted, and unconscious behaviour of the Mikado,
and attended closely upon him. But on the night of the
22nd day of the sixth month of this year he suddenly dis-
appeared. An alarm was given, and everybody, without
exception, from the nobles-in-waiting down to the guards
and servants of meanest rank, procured lights and sought
everywhere. But no trace of the Mikado could be found. ■
The Prime Minister with the other ministers and nobles
all assembled. Every room was searched, but he was
nowhere to be seen, and the night was spent by all in
the utmost consternation and alarm.
''The Chiunagon, prostrating himself in grief before
O-KAGAMI 125
the shrine of the [Shinto] gods, protectors of the palace,
prayed them with tears and lamentations to reveal to him
the place where his precious lord was hidden. Then he
was sought for by parties despatched severally to all the
Buddhist temples, but in vain. Meanwhile his consorts
wept, and in their hearts thought what a terrible thing
had happened. The long summer's night at length gave
way to dawn, but the search was still fruitless.
"The Chiunagon and the Sachiuben Korenari went at
last to Kwazan, and there they discovered him clothed as
a dear little priest. They fell down before him with
exclamations of grief and concern, and both followed his
example and entered the priesthood."
The d'Kagami or '^ Great Mirror" is another his-
torical work. It contains the history of fourteen reigns,
beginning with that of Mondoku, who came to the
throne A.D. 851, and ending with that of Go Ichij5,
who died in A.D. 1036. The author was one Tamenari,
a member of the great Fujiwara family, and an official
attached to the court of the Mikado Sutoku (11 24-1 141).
He served for some time as Director of the Empress's
palace, but subsequently assumed the tonsure and retired
to a hermitage on Mount Ohara, near Kioto. Here he
was joined by his two brothers, who followed his ex-
ample and abandoned the world for .a life of religion.
Tamenari's preface to the 0-Kagami shows that he was
a devout Buddhist.
Whether we have regard to its matter or to its form,
the O'Kagami is not a very important contribution to
literature. It is in eight volumes. Volume I. contains,
in sixty-four pages, meagre sketches of the lives of
fourteen Mikados. The year, month, and day of birth,
appointment as Crown Prince, assumption of the manly
126 JAPANESE LITERATURE
style of dressing the hair, accession to the throne and
death of each sovereign, are set down baldly in a page
or two. Then follow one or two sentimental or
humorous anecdotes, adorned as usual with Tanka.
There is little more. In the next six volumes we find
biographies of the principal statesmen during the same
period. This part of the work is somewhat more sub-
stantial, but there is still a marked inclination towards
the anecdotal and romantic treatment of the subject.
The last volume is an excursus on the origin of certain
festivals at the shrines of Kamo and Hachiman.
The 0-Kagami throws but little light on the times of
which it professes to give the history, but it may perhaps
be acceptable as an addition to the information supplied
us by the drier official histories in the Chinese language.
This work, with the Masa-Kagami^ and the Midzu-
Kagami (to be noticed afterwards), are known as the
Mitsu-Kagami or "Three Mirrors." Mirror, it may be
explained, is a familiar metaphor for history, not only in
Japan, but in China and Corea.
Before closing this chapter, one or two works in the
Chinese language require to be mentioned.
The Shdjiroku is a sort of peerage. It was prepared
A.D. 815, and contains the genealogy of 1182 noble
families of Japan. It has no value as literature, but is
useful for historical reference, and has one interesting
feature — it shows that at this period about one-third of
the Japanese nobility claimed to be descended from
Chinese or Corean ancestors.
The Yengishikiy or "Institutes of the Period Yengi"
(901-923), was completed in 927. The first two volumes
contain minute directions for the celebration of the
Shinto rites of worship, including the Norito or
WORKS IN CHINESE 127
liturgies used on these occasions, which were now for
the first time, so far as we know, committed to writing,
although in existence for centuries previously. The
remaining forty volumes give a description of the
organisation of the various Government departments,
the duties of the officials, &c. The Yengishiki is a most
valuable work of reference.
The Wamiosho is a Chinese -Japanese dictionary,
arranged according to categories, such as Heaven,
Earth, &c., and is valuable to philologists, but not
otherwise. The author of this lexicon was one Mina-
moto no Shitagaii (911-983).
BOOK THE FOURTH
KAMAKURA PERIOD (1186-1332)
(DECLINE OF LEARNING)
BOOK THE FOURTH
KAMAKURA PERIOD (i 186-1332)
(DECLINE OF LEARNING)
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY
In the history of Japan, as in that of many other
countries, there is observable an alternate tendency
towards strong and weak central governments, which
is all the more pronounced as the insular position of the
country protects this natural oscillation against foreign
interference. From time to time rulers of commanding
abilities and resolute character made their appearance,
who enlarged the sphere of authority of the State, and
kept local ambitions in check. But sooner or later the
central control became relaxed, and each province estab-
lished a sort of Home Rule for itself, until another swing
of the pendulum took place, and the reins of govern-
ment were again grasped by the strong hand of a single
authority.
The establishment by the Shogun Yoritomo, after
much hard fighting, of the sway of the military caste at
Kamakura, near the end of the twelfth century, marked
the beginning of one of these periods of vigorous
132 JAPANESE LITERATURE
centralisation. Though the Mikados were allowed to
retain an outward semblance of authority, all real power,
civil and military, had passed from their hands ; while,
on the other hand, the local nobles saw themselves
supplanted by officers appointed by the Shoguns and
entirely dependent on them.
Yoritomo was succeeded by his two sons, who with
their father are known to history as the ^^Three Shoguns."
After them the Hojo dynasty of Shikken (directors), who
were simply Shoguns under a different name, took their
place as the rulers of Japan. They remained in power
until A.D. 1335.
The rule of a class to whose very existence a practical
knowledge of war and warlike accomplishments was
vital, and who necessarily neglected, if they did not
despise, intellectual culture, was not conducive to^JJie
production of important literary works. Nor was this
the only unfavourable condition of the time. Inter-
course with China and Corea had become much inter-
rupted. The shores of these countries were infested
by Japanese pirates, in punishment for whose descents
it was that Kublai Khan despatched his famous but
abortive expedition against Japan. Chinese learning
consequently languished. Buddhism, on the other hand,
flourished greatly, as the colossal figure of Buddha
(a.d. 1252) at Kamakura testifies to this day. Most of
the Mikados, after a few years of reign, became monks,
as did also many of the highest personages of their court,
though it must be said that the adage '^ CucuUus non facit
monachum " was in their case abundantly exemplified.
The three thousand monasteries which at this time
dotted the slopes of Hiyeisan (a mountain north-east of
Kioto) were a very material embodiment of Buddhist
KAMAKURA PERIOD 133
influence. Not content with mere spiritual weapons,
the inmates of these estabUshments were always ready,
on the smallest provocation, to don their armour over
their monastic frocks and troop down to the streets of
Kioto to place their swords in whatever scale of the
politics of the day seemed to them most expedient. They
were the terror of the Mikados, one of whom is recorded
to have said : " There are three things I cannot control —
the water of the Kamogawa (a river which does frequent
damage to Kioto by its floods), the fall of the dice, and
the monks of Buddha."
It was, however, the Buddhist monks who were the
chief maintainers of learning during this period. Some
of the men of letters were ecclesiastics, and even when
this was not the case, their writings are deeply imbued
with Buddhist teachings and sentiments. The vanity of
wealth and power, and the uncertainty of human things,
form the constant refrain of their moralisings.
In comparison with the Heian period, the contribu-
tions by women to the literature of this time are insig-
nificant, and altogether a more virile, if less refined,
spirit is discernible. There are hardly any of those
debonair romances which in the preceding period
amused the leisure of the nobles of Kioto. The newer
literature, with its tales of combats and battles, reflects
the more warlike temper of the times of which it is the
product. As a Japanese writer has observed, ''The
Heian literature is like the Kaido {Pyrus spectabilis)
drooping after rain ; that of the Kamakura period
resembles the plum-blossom which exhales its perfume
in the snow and frost."
It is to be noted that the more important writings of
this period belong to the earher part of it.
CHAPTER II
HISTORICAL WORKS
The authorship of the Gempei Seisuiki is doubtfulh
ascribed to one Hamuro Tokinaga, of whom we kno^
little or nothing. He is also conjectured to have writtei
the Heiji Monogatari and Hogen Monogatari, but of this
too there is no certainty. The precise date of its com-
position is likewise unknown. It must belong to the earh
part of the Kamakura period.
The Gempei Seisuiki^ as its jiame indicates, is a histon
of the rise and fall of the Gen), and Hei, two great nobl(
families whose struggles for supremacy convulsed Japai
during the latter half of the twelfth century. It is
forty-eight books, and embraces the period from A.DJ
1161 to 1 1 85. No doubt itself suggested by the Chines(
Yengi or ^' Paraphrases of History/' of which the Sail'
kwo-chih is the best known, the Gempei Seisuiki is th(
first example in Japan of a large class of quasi-historical
works to which there is nothing precisely similar
our literature, though a comparison with Shakespeare's
historical plays will convey some idea of the relative pro-
portions of fact and fiction which they contain. The]
have no original plot, and little or no introduction oi
imaginary personages. The writers content themselves
with following the general course of real history, whil(
adorning it with what flourish their nature prompts]
GEMPEI SEISUIKI 135
But the *^ flourish " means a great deal. It is not only
rhetorical ornament and sententious reflections which
these authors provide. They evolve from their inner
consciousness speeches for statesmen and soldiers, war-
like stratagems for generals, prayers for the devout,
appropriate omens, dreams, incantations, and miraculous
incidents in great variety, with a host of minute details
of dress, of pompous processions, of hairbreadth escapes,
of single combats, and the like. Tanka, original or
otherwise, are supplied whenever the occasion seems to
demand them.
The Gempei Seisuiki is a work of considerable literary
pretensions, and in its own special style is only surpassed
by the Taiheiki. The language marks a considerable
advance towards the modern form of Japanese. While
the works of the Heian period are very imperfectly
intelligible to an ordinary educated Japanese, with the
Gempei Seisuiki he finds little difficulty. Much of the
older grammatical equipment of particles and termina-
tions is now dispensed with, and the vocabulary shows
a large increment of Chinese words, a notable propor-
tion of which owe their introduction to Buddhist
influences.
The following is part of the account of the naval
engagement of Dannoura, one of the decisive battles
of Japanese history. By it the strife between the great
Hei (or Taira) and Gen (or Minamoto) factions was
brought to an end for the time, and Yoritomo enabled
to establish his authority over all Japan.
"The capture of Yashima shut out the House of Hei
from Kiushiu. Unable to find a port of refuge, they
drifted on to Dannoura in Nagato, Akama (Shimono-
seki), Moji, and Hikushima. Here they remained afloat
136 JAPANESE LITERATURE
upon the waves, passing the time on board their ships
The Gen fleet arrived at the bay of Katsura, in the
province of Awa. They had been victorious in the
conflicts engaged in in various places, and had taken the
palace of Yashima. They now followed the movements
of the Hei ships, pursuing them by land, as the hawk!
urges the pheasants when the moors are burnt and no
cover is left. The Gen fleet reached a place called
Oitsuheitsu, twenty chd or more [about two miles]
from where the adherents of the Hei House were
stationed.
"On the 24th day of the third month of the same
year [1185], Yoshitsune [the Gen general, brother of
Yoritomo] and his army, in seven hundred ships or
more, attacked the enemy at dawn. The House of Hei
were not unprepared. With five hundred war-ships or
more, they advanced to meet him, and the exchange of
arrows [by way of formal defiance] took place. The
Gen and Hei troops numbered together over 100,000
men, and the sound of the battle-cry raised on both
sides, with the song of the turnip-headed arrows [a
special kind of arrow which made a noise like a hum-
ming-top] as they crossed each other's course, was
startling to hear — audible, one would think, as far as
the azure sky above, and re-echoing downwards to the
depths of the sea.
" Noriyori [with other Gen generals] had arrived at
Kiushiu with 30,000 cavalry, and had cut off the retreat
in that direction. The Hei were like a caged bird that
cannot escape, or a fish in a trap from which there is
no exit. On the sea there were ships floating, by land
were bridle-bits in ranged lines. East and west, south and
north were closed, and on no side was evasion possible.
GEMPEI SEISUIKI 137
i "Tomomori [a Hei general] stood forward on the bow
of his ship and spoke as follows : —
" * Let us think this day our last, and let us all banish
the thought of retreat. In ancient and modern times
there have been examples of even famous generals and
brave soldiers, when their armies were beaten and
their good fortune exhausted, being captured by a
traveller or taken prisoner by a wayfarer. All these
arose from the endeavour to avoid a death which was
inevitable. Let us each one at this time abandon our
lives to destruction, and think of nothing else but to
leave a name to after ages. Let us show no weakness
before these fellows from the east country. What have
we done that we should be grudging even of our
lives ? Let us unite in the resolve to seize Yoshitsune
and fling him into the sea. This should be the chief
object of to-day's battle.' "
The first onset was favourable to the Hei faction,
upon which : —
"Yoshitsune, observing that his troops showed signs
of yielding, rinsed his mouth in the salt tide, and with
closed eyes and folded palms preyed to Hachiman
Daibosatsu^ to grant him his protection. Hereupon a
pair of white doves [the pigeon is sacred to Hachi-
man] flew thither and alit on Yoshitsune's flag. While
Gen and Hei were saying, ^' Look there, look there," a
mass of black clouds came floating from the east and
hung over the scene of battle. From amidst this cloud
a white flag descended, while Yoshitsune's flag, its top
^ This deity has a curious history. Originally the Mikado Ojin, he was
credited with having conquered Corea while an unborn infant. Then he
became the Shinto god of war, and finally was annexed by the Buddhists,
who added to his name the Buddhist title of " Daibosatsu."
138 JAPANESE LITERATURE
waving to and fro, passed away along with the cloudj
The Gen joined their hands together in prayer, whil
the Hei's hair stood on end, and their hearts felt sma
within them.
"The Gen soldiers, encouraged by such favourabl
omens, shouted aloud in their ardour. Some embarkei
in boats and rowed on and on, fighting as they weni
Others, marching along the dry land, and fitting arrow
to their bows one after another in quick succession
engaged in a battle of archery."
This is described in a style which recalls the cora
bats of the Iliad, the doings and sayings of individu
heroes being related in great detail.
"The Gen were many, and encouraged by success
pressed forward to the attack ; the Hei were fewei
but acquitted themselves as if that day were their las
Can the battle of Indra with the Asuras have beei
more terrible than this ?
"The Hei ships were drawn up two or three deej
The ship of Chinese build was furnished with troop
in a manner which showed that the general was o
board. On the [ordinary] fighting-ships the Daijin an
other fit officers of lower rank were embarked. It wa
the plan of the Hei, whilst the Gen were attacking th
Chinese ship, that their fighting-ships should fetch
circuit round the enemy's vessels, and enclosing therr
smite the Gen to a man.
"Thereupon Shigeyoshi, hitherto so faithful to th
Hei cause, suddenly changed his heart, and with thre
hundred ships or more, manned with troops fron
Shikoku, rowed away, and remained a passive spectato
of the battle, prepared, if the Hei proved the strongei
to shoot his arrows at the Gen ; if the Gen seeme
HEIKE MONOGATARI 139
likely to gain the victory, to aim them at the Hei.
How true is it that heaven may be reckoned upon,
earth may be reckoned upon ; the only thing which we
cannot reckon on is the heart of man."
Ultimately Shigeyoshi betrays to Yoshitsune the Hei
plan of battle, with the result that the latter faction
are completely overthrown.
" The authorship and precise date of the Heike Mono-
gatari are unknown. It was probably composed soon
after the Genipei Seisuiki, of which it is little more than
an adaptation, page after page being simply copied from
the latter work. But as if its model and source had not
already departed sufficiently from true history, the Heike
Monogatariy which covers the same ground and relates
the same events, adds a number of inventions of its own,
under the inspiration of patriotic or pious motives, or for
the sake of poetical or dramatic effect. It is said that a
main object of the author was to produce a narrative
which could be chanted to the accompaniment of the
biwa, a kind of four-stringed lute. That it was so chanted
by men with shaven heads called biwa-bdzu (biwa-
bonzes) is a fact frequently referred to by later writers.
In this form it became immensely popular, and even at
the present day it is far better known than the Gempei
Seisuikiy a work much superior to it in merit. Motoori,
reasoning from the premiss that everything which can
be sung is poetry, classes the Heike accordingly. He
says that even though the actual count of syllables will
not come right, they can be slurred over in singing so as
to make metre. The reader might expect from this to
find that the Heike is an example of poetical prose some-
what in the style of Ossian. But there is really hardly
I40 JAPANESE LITERATURE
anything to justify Motoori's opinion. Its style, though
occasionally more or less ornate, is not really more
poetical than that of many books for which no such
pretension is advanced. To this, however, an excep
tion must be noticed. In a very few passages, forming
altogether an utterly insignificant part of the book, then
is something of that alternation of phrases of five anc
seven syllables which in Japan constitutes metre, anc
the diction and thought bear traces of an attempt tc
treat the subject in a poetical manner. The followin|
is a specimen : —
A local official named Morotsune, having had a disput(
with the monks of a certain temple, burnt it. The latte:
assembled the monks of the parent monastery, to thi
number of over two thousand men, and approached hi
official residence : —
" And flow the sun went down.
Resolved to engage battle on the morrow^
That night they drew near and contained themselves.
The breath of the dew-laden wind of autumn ,
Fluttered the left sleeves of their armour-
The lightning which illufnined the clouds above
Made the stars of their helmets to blaze.
Morotsune ^feeling that resistance was i?t vain.,
Fled up by flight to Kioto.
The next day they advanced at the hour of the Hare [sunrise]
And abruptly raised the battle-cry j
But within the castle not a sound was heard.
A man was sent to examifie.,
But reported that they had all decamped.''^
Even in this short passage the regularity of metre an(
the poetical diction are not well sustained.
It would not be necessary to dwell on this feature oi
the Heike Monogatari but for the circumstance that w(
have here the beginning of a kind of composition whicl
HEIKE MONOGATARI
141
subsequently became very popular in Japan. The Tai-
heiki carried this '^ dropping into poetry " somewhat
further, and the modern dramatists and novelists have
bestowed on us much tediousness of this particular
description.
After the battle of Dannoiira (see p. 135), the Mikado
Antoku's nurse, seeing that all was over, took him into
her arms (he was then a boy of eight years of age) and
plunged into the sea with him. Both were drowned.
The following is the Heike Monogatari' s account of this
incident : —
^^ Niidono was long ago prepared for this [the defeat of
the Hei or Taira party]. Throwing over her head her
double garment of sombre hue, and tucking up high the
side of her trousers of straw-coloured silk, she placed
under her arm the Sacred Seal, and girt on her loins the
Sacred^Sword. Then taking the sovereign to her bosom,
she said, ^ Although a woman, I will not allow the enemy
to lay hands on me. I will accompany my sovereign.
All ye who have regard for his intention make haste and
follow.' So saying, she calmly placed her foot on the
ship's side. The sovereign had this year reached the
age of eight, but looked much older. His august coun-
tenance was so beautiful that it cast a lustre round about.
His black locks hung loosely down below his back. With
an astonished expression he inquired, *■ Now, whither do
you propose to take me, Amaze ? ' ^ Niidono turned her
face to her child-lord, and with tears that fell bara-barUy
'Do you not know, my lord,' said she, 'that although,
by virtue of your keeping the Ten Commandments
in a previous state of existence, you have been born
into this world as the ruler of ten thousand chariots,
^ A respectful title for women who have taken Buddhist vowis.
a
142 JAPANESE LITERATURE
yet having become involved in an evil destiny, your
good fortune is now at an end ? Be pleased to tur
first to the east, and bid adieu to the shrine of th
Great God of Ise. Then turn to the west, and cal
upon the name of Buddha, solemnly committing your
self to the charge of those who will come to meet yoi
from the Paradise of the Western Land. This work
is the region of sorrow, a remote spot small as a graii
of millet. But beneath the waves there is a fair cit]
called the Pure Land of Perfect Happiness. Thither i
is that I am taking you.' With such words she soothe(
him. The child then tied his top-knot to the Imperia
robe of the colour of a mountain-dove, and tearfull]
joined together his lovely little hands. First he turnec
to the east, and bade adieu to the shrine of the Grea
God of Ise and the shrine of Hachiman. Next h
turned to the west, and called upon the name of Buddha
When he had done so, Niidono made bold to take him ii
her arms, and soothing him with the words, ^ There is i
city away below the waves,' sank down to the botton
one thousand fathoms deep. Alas, the pity of it ! — th(
changeful winds of spring swiftly scattered the flower
august form. Alas, the pain of it ! — the rude billow
of severance buried the jewel person. His palace ha
been called Chosei, to denote that it was established a
his long abode ; and the gate inscribed Furo, that is
the portal through which old age enters not. But er
ten years had passed he had become drift of the dee
sea. In the case of such a virtuous monarch it woul
be wholly idle to talk of reward and retribution. It i
the dragon of the region above the clouds descendin;
and becoming a fish."
A comparison of the above with the corresponding
I MIDZU-KAGAMI 143
f passage of the Gempei Seisuiki shows very clearly the
different character of the two works. There is nothing
in the latter about praying to Shinto deities or to Buddha,
and no talk of a future Paradise. When the young
monarch asks where his nurse is taking him, instead of
the devout sentiments attributed to her by the Heike
Mo7iogatariy the Gempei Seisuiki tells us that she said,
" The soldiers are shooting arrows at the august ship,
and I have the honour to escort your Majesty to
another one."
The honorifics characteristic of the Japanese lan-
guage come in very oddly in some of these passages.
Thus in the above the waves " respectfully " submerge
the Mikado, the enemy's soldiers ^* respectfully " direct
their arrows against the august ship, and so forth. It
would be tedious to follow these peculiarities in a
translation.
The authorship of the historical work called Midzu-Kag-
ami{^^ Water-Mirror ") is really unknown. It has been as-
cribed to Nakayama Tadachika, who was born 1131, and
died 1 195. Omitting the myths of the so-called "Age of
the Gods," the writer begins his history with the legend of
Jimmu Tenno, the first Mikado, and brings it down through
fifty-four reigns to the death of Nimmio in 850. It is of
course impossible to give anything but a meagre outline
of the history of this long period in three volumes of no
great bulk. Its value is small. In the earlier part it is
little more than an epitome of the Nihongi, The story
is told in a plain, artless fashion, without rhetorical orna-
ment, philosophical reflections, or the least attempt to
trace the causes or connection of events. Whoever the
author was, he was a devout Buddhist, to which fact is
144 JAPANESE LITERATURE
no doubt to be attributed a certain miraculous elemei
in the latter part of the history.
The Midzu-Kagami is an obvious imitation of th
d-Kagami. The language is comparatively free froi
Chinese admixture, and from the point of view of styl
the work is to be classed with the literature of the Heia
period.
The authorship of the Hogen Monogatari and Heij
Monogatari is attributed to Hamuro Tokinaga, wh
lived towards the end of the twelfth century. Th
former contains an account of the civil disturbances
Kioto in the year 1157, arising out of a dispute respectin
the succession to the throne ; the latter is a record of th
renewal of the conflict in 11 59. The result of this figh
ing was the downfall for a time of the power of the gre:
Minamoto (Gen) family, and the establishment of th
Taira (Hei) family in power.
I
CHAPTER III
CHOMEI AND THE "HOJOKI"
Kamo Chomei, the author of the Hojdkiy was a guardian
of the Shinto shrine of Kamo in Kioto. Having acquired
some reputation as a musician and poet, he was appointed
by the retired Mikado Go Toba to a post in the Depart-
ment of Japanese Poetry. He subsequently petitioned to
be allowed to succeed his father as superior guardian of
Kamo, but his prayer was not granted. This he resented
deeply, and shaving his head, retired to a hermitage on
Oharayama, a few miles from Kioto.
The Hojdkiy written in 1212, is a record of the author's
personal experiences. It is valued highly for its excel-
lent style, which is not too close an imitation of the older
classical manner, nor yet, on the other hand, overloaded
with Chinese expressions. After giving an account of
the great fire of Kioto in 11 77, the famine of 1181, and
the earthquake of 1185, the writer of these memoirs
proceeds to tell us of the mountain hermitage to which
he fled in order to escape from a world so rife with
direful calamities. His hut and mode of life are
minutely described, with many touches which not only
give indications of his own tastes and character, but
reveal something of the inner spirit of the Buddhist
religion. It is a tiny book on which to rest so high
a reputation, containing some thirty pages only, and it
is therefore possible to transcribe all the more interest-
Ms K
146 JAPANESE LITERATURE
ing passages. Hojo, it may be premised, means "tei
feet square," the supposed dimensions of a hermit's eel
and actually those of Chomei's hut. Ki means ^^ notes
or '* record."
"The current of a running stream flows on unceas
ingly, but the water is not the same : the foam floatin
on the pool where it lingers, now vanishes and ViO\
forms again, but is never lasting. Such are man
kind and their habitations. In a splendid capital when
the dwellings of the exalted and of the lowly joi
their roof-trees and with their tiles jostle one anothei
they may appear to go on without an interval fro
generation to generation. But we shall find, if we mak
inquiry, that there are in reality but few which are ancien
Some were destroyed last year to be rebuilt this year
others, which were great houses, have been ruined, am
replaced by smaller ones. The same is true of thei
inmates. If we have lived long in a place where w
have numbers of acquaintances, we find that but on
or two are left of twenty or thirty whom we kne\
formerly. In the morning some die, in the evenin
some are born. Such is life. It may be compare(
to foam upon the water. Whether they are born
whether they die, we know not whence they come no
whither they go. Nor in this temporary sojourning
place do we know who will benefit by the trouble wi
put ourselves to, or wherewithal to give pleasure t(
the eyes. Of a house and its master I know no
which is the more subject to change. Both are liki
the dew on the convolvulus. The dew may fall, leaving
the flower behind ; but even so, the flower fades wit
the morning sun. Again, the flower may wither, whil
HOJOKI 147
the dew remains ; but even so, it cannot last until
evening.
" During the forty springs and summers which have
passed since I first knew the heart of things, many
extraordinary events have happened. In the third year
of Angen (1177), on the twenty-eighth day of the
fourth month, the night being unquiet by reason of a
violent wind, a fire broke out in the south-eastern part
of the capital, about eight o'clock, and spread in a
north-westerly direction, gaining the southern gate of
the Palace, the Hall of Audience, the University build-
ings, and the Home Office. That same night all were
reduced to ashes. It was said to have had its origin
in a temporary building used as a hospital. Urged by
the blasts of the devious wind, it spread this way and
that until it widened out like an extended fan. The
distant houses were immersed in smoke, while the
nearer ground was completely covered with the sparks
blown on to it. The ashes, driven aloft into the sky,
and illumined by the flames, formed a ruddy back-
ground against which the sparks might be seen, con-
tinually detached by the gusts, and as it were flying
over a space of several hundred yards to some new
quarter. Imagine the distracted state of the inhabitants !
Some there were who fell down, stifled by the smoke ;
others, involved in flames, met with a sudden death ;
others, again, barely escaped with their lives, and were
unable to save their property. Their seven rare things
and their ten thousand treasures became mere ashes.
How great were the losses ! Sixteen houses of nobles
were consumed, and others without number. One-third
of all Kioto was destroyed. Several thousands of men
and women lost their lives, and an immense number
148 JAPANESE LITERATURE
of cattle. All the ways of man are full of vanity, bu
it may be deemed specially unprofitable to build ou
selves dwellings in so dangerous a place as the capita
wasting our wealth, and giving ourselves much anxiet
of mind.
" Again, on the 29th day of the fourth month of th
fourth year of Jisho (1180), there was a great whirlwin<
which arose in the Kiogoku quarter, and blew wit
much violence as far as Rokujo. Three or four of th
city wards received its full force. In these there wa
not a single house, great or small, which was not de
stroyed by its whirling blasts. Some were simply lai(
flat on the ground ; in others nothing was left but th
posts and cross-beams. The roofs of gates were blow]
off and deposited at a distance of several streets. Fence
were swept away, removing all distinction between
neighbour's ground and one's own. It need hardly b
said that all the contents of the houses without excep
tion rose to the sky, while the bark and shingles of th(
roofs were scattered abroad like autumnal leaves befor
the wind. The dust was blown up like smoke, so tha
nothing could be seen, and the din was so tremendou
that one could not hear his neighbour speak. Th
blasts of the Buddhist Inferno of which we have beer
told must be something of this kind. Not only wen
houses destroyed, but countless numbers of people wen
injured, and became cripples [by exposure] while theii
homes were being repaired. This wind passed off ii
a south-westerly direction, having caused lamentation t(
many. Now a whirlwind is an ordinary phenomenon
but this was no mere natural occurrence ; I strongl]
suspect that it was sent as a warning."
[Here follows an account of the miseries attendan
HOJOKI 149
upon the removal of the capital to Settsu in the same
year (1180).]
" It is so long ago that I do not exactly remember, but
I believe it was in the period Yowa (11 81-2) that there
was for two years a very wretched state of things caused
by famine. Misfortunes succeeded one another. Either
there was drought in spring and summer, or there were
storms and floods in autumn and winter, so that no grain
came to maturity. The spring ploughing was in vain,
and the labour of summer planting [of the young rice]
came to naught. There was no bustle of reaping in
autumn, or of ingathering in winter. In all the pro-
vinces people left their lands and sought other parts,
or, forgetting their homes, went to live among the hills.
All kinds of prayers were begun, and even religious
practices which were unusual in ordinary times revived,
but to no purpose whatever. The capital, dependent as
it is on the country for everything, could not remain
unconcerned when nothing was produced. The inhabi-
tants in their distress offered to sacrifice their valuables of
all kinds one after another, but nobody cared to look at
them. Even if buyers came forward, they made little
account of gold, and much of grain. Beggars swarmed
by the roadsides, and our ears were filled with the sound
of their lamentations. Amid such misery we with diffi-
culty reached the close of the first year. With the new
year, men's hopes revived. But that nothing might be
left to complete our misfortunes, a pestilence broke out
and continued without ceasing. Everybody was dying
of hunger, and as time went on, our condition became as
desperate as that of the fish in the small pool of the story.
At last even respectable-looking people wearing hats, and
with their feet covered, might be seen begging importu-
150 JAPANESE LITERATURE
nately from door to door. Sometimes while you won
dered how such utterly wretched creatures could walk
all, they fell down before your eyes. By garden walls o
on the roadsides countless persons died of famine, and as
their bodies were not removed, the world was filled witli
evil odours. As they changed, there were many sightj
which the eyes could not endure to see. It was worse
on the river banks where there was not even room foi
horses and vehicles to pass back and forwards. Porters
and woodcutters too became so feeble that firewooc
got scarcer and scarcer, and people who had no means
pulled down their houses and sold the materials in th(
market. It was said that a load for one man was no
enough to provide him with sustenance for a single day,
It was strange to see among this firewood pieces adornec
in places with vermilion, or silver or gold leaf. Or
inquiry, it appeared that people in their extremity wen
to old temples, stole the images of Buddha, and broke
up the objects used in worship, of which these were th
fragments. Such mournful spectacles it was my lot tc
witness, born into a polluted and wicked world.
" Another very pitiable thing was that when there were
a man and woman who were strongly attached to each
other, the one whose love was the greatest and whose
devotion was the most profound always died first. Th
reason was that they put themselves last, and, whethei
man or woman, gave up to the dearly loved one anything
which they might chance to have begged. As a mattei
of course, parents died before their children. Again
infants might be seen clinging to the breast of theii
mother, not knowing that she was already dead. A
priest of the Temple of Jisonin, grieved in his secre
heart at the numberless persons who were thus perish-]
HOJOKI 151
iiiL^, consulted with a great many holy men, who by his
advice, when they saw any one dead, wrote on his
forehead the first of the Chinese characters for Amida
[Buddha] and by this bond united him [to the Church].
The numbers of those who died in central Kioto during
the fourth and fifth months alone were 42,300. To this
must be added many who died before and after ; while if
we also reckon those who perished in the various out-
lying quarters, the number has no limit. And then the
provinces ! I have heard that in recent times there was
a similar famine in the reign of Sutoku, in the period
Chojo (1132-1135), but of this I do not know the circum-
stances. What I have described is the most lamentable
state of things that I have myself witnessed."
Chomei next describes the great earthquake at Ki5to
of the year 1185, in which, when at its worst, there were
twenty or thirty shocks a day, such as would be called
severe in ordinary times. After ten or twenty days the
shocks in one day were two to five, then one every two
or three days. It was not until the third month that the
earth had quite recovered its quiet.
The story of these disasters is introductory to an
account of his own life, and is brought in to explain his
resolve to abandon the city and to live the life of a
recluse. He spent thirty years in a small cabin remote
from Kioto, but finding even this seclusion not suffi-
ciently restful —
'' Five springs and autumns," he says, ^^ came and went
to me making my bed among the clouds of Mount
Ohara. And now at sixty, when the dew does not
easily evaporate,^ I again built myself a last leaf of a
dwelling, something like the shelter which a traveller
^ In other words, "sad thoughts are not easily shaken off."
152 JAPANESE LITERATURE
might erect for one night's lodging, or the cocoon spun
for itself by an aged silkworm. It is not a hundredth
part so commodious as the habitation of my middle-time.
As my age declined with every year, at each remove my
dwelling became smaller. This last one is no ordinary
house. It is barely ten feet square, and only seven feet
high. As it was not meant for a fixed abode, the ground
about it was trodden hard and left uncultivated. The
walls are of mud, and it is thatched with rushes. The
joints are fastened with rings and staples, for the greater
convenience of removal elsewhere if any subject of dis-
satisfaction should arise. How little trouble it would
take to rebuild it in another place ! It would barely
make two cart-loads, and there would be no expense
whatever beyond the cartage.
" Since I concealed my traces in the recesses of Mount
Hino, I have put up a projecting roof of some three feet
or more in width on the eastern side, as a place for
breaking and burning brushwood. On the south I have
set out a temporary shade and laid down a bamboo
grating [by way of a mat]. On the west there is the
domestic shrine. Within, against the north, and on the
other side of a paper screen, I have installed a picture
of Amida, and beside it have hung one of Fugen. Before
them I have placed a copy of the Hokkekio} Close to
the eastern wall I have spread a quantity of fern, which
serves me as a bed. On the south-west there is provided
a hanging shelf of bamboo, on which are three or four
black leather cases containing Japanese poetry, music,
a Buddhist pious book, and such-like manuscripts. Be-
sides there are a harp and a lute of the kinds known as
Origoto and Tsugibiwa.
^ Buddhist Scriptures.
HOJOKI 153
^^Such is my temponiry dwelling. Now to describe
its surroundings. On the south there is a water-pipe
which leads to a reservoir, constructed by piling large
stones one on another. A wood close by affords plenty
of sticks for firewood. The Masaki creeper hides all
that is beyond. The valley is thickly wooded, but is
clear towards the west, which is not unfavourable to
meditation.^
" Here in spring there may be seen the rippling
blossoms of the wistaria, shedding a fragrance towards
the west. In summer the Hototogisu^ is heard, who by
his reiterated cry invites to a tryst with him on that
rugged path which leads to Hades. In autumn the song
of the cicada fills the ears, sounding like a wail over the
vanities of this earthly existence. In winter the snow
excites in me a sympathetic emotion. As it grows
deeper and deeper, and then by degrees melts away
again, it is an apt symbol of the obstruction of sin.
^'When I am too sad for prayer, or cannot fix my
mind on the pages of holy writ, there is no one to pre-
vent me from resting and being as indolent as I please,
nor is there any friend in whose presence I might feel
ashamed. Though I have not specially adopted silence
as my rule, living alone as I do, the faculty of speech
has naturally been suspended. With no definite resolve
to observe the commandments, my circumstances are
such that there is no temptation to break them. When
at morn I approach the white waves of the lake, I feel
as if I had stolen the sentiments of the novice Mansei
when he gazed on the boats passing to and from
Okanoya [and compared human life to the ripples left
^ In the west is India, the native place of Buddhism.
^ A kind of cuckoo.
154 JAPANESE LITERATURE
in their wake] ; when at evening the cassia wind rustle
the leaves, I think of the estuary of Junyo and imitat
the style of Gen Totoku. When more cheerful tha
usual I extol the music of the autumn wind to the ac
companiment of its song among the firs, or to the soun
of water join my praises of the music of the runnin
stream. I do not pretend to anything great in music
and I sing or play all by myself, only for the comfort c
my own heart, and not for the entertainment of others
" At the foot of the mountain there is another cabir
built of brushwood, where a forester lives. He has
son who sometimes comes to see me. When I am du
I take him for a walk, and although there is a grea
difference in our ages, he being sixteen and I sixty, w
both enjoy the same pleasures. We pluck the grea
rush flowers or gather cranberries. We fill our basket
with wild potatoes or collect parsley. Sometimes we g
down to the rice-fields in the belt of ground at the botton
of the mountain and glean the fallen ears. In seren
weather we climb to the summit and view from afar th
sky over my native place. Hence we can see Kowata
yama, Fushimi, Toba, and Hatsukase. Fine scenery i
not private property, and there is nothing to prevent m
from enjoying it. With no toilsome journey on fool
my mind flies afar along the range of mountain peaks
I cross Mount Sumi, I pass beyond Karadori, I make
pilgrimage to Iwama, I worship at Ishiyama, or else
thread my way over the plain of Awadzu, and pay m;
respects to the remains of the old Semimaru [a famou
musician] ; I cross the river Tagami, and visit the toml
of Sarumaru Dayu [a poet].
" On our way home we break off the cherry branche
or gather the red autumn foliage ; we pluck the youn
HOJOKI 155
shoots of the bracken, or pick up nuts according to the
season. Some of these are offered to Buddha, and some
are taken as presents [to my companion's family].
'^When on a calm night the moon shines in at my
window, I think with yearning of the men of old, and
at the cry of the monkeys my sleeve is wetted with tears.
The fire-flies in the clumps of herbage represent to me
the fishermen's cressets on the isle of Magi no Shima ;
the rain at daybreak sounds to me like the leaves when
fluttered by a stormy gust of wind. When I hear the
copper pheasant with his cry of ^ horo, horo,' I wonder
whether it is my father or my mother.^ When the stag
from the mountain top approaches without shyness, I
realise how far I am separated from the world.
" When I first took up my abode in this place, I thought
it was only for a little while. But five years have passed
and my temporary hut has become old. Under the
eaves there is a deep bed of withered leaves, and moss
has gathered on the earthen floor. When by chance I
receive news of the capital, I hear of the deaths of many
men of high rank, while of those of men of low degree
it is impossible to reckon the number. I hear too of
many houses being destroyed by frequent conflagra-
tions. But this temporary cabin of mine has remained
secure and undisturbed. It is small, but at night I have
a bed to lie upon, in the daytime a mat on which I sit.
It has all that is needed for the lodging of one person.
" Buddha has taught mankind not to allow their hearts
to become enslaved by outward things. Even my love
for this thatched cabin is to be reckoned a transgres-
1 Referring to a poem in which the doctrine of transmigration is alluded to.
156 JAPANESE LITERATURE
be 4
sion ; even my lying down to quiet rest must be
hindrance to piety. How can any one waste precious
time in a continuous indulgence in useless pleasure I
One calm morning I thought long over the reasons oi
this, and asked of my own heart the question — ^The
object of leaving the world and making companions
of the hills and woods is to give peace to the mindj
and to enable us to carry out the practices of religion.
But though your outward appearance is that of a holy
man, your heart is steeped in impurity. Your dwelling
is an unworthy imitation of that of Jomyo, but in
observance you fall behind even Shuri and Bandoku
Is this a natural affliction, inseparable from a mean
condition, or is it due to the disorderly passions of an
impure heart ?' To this my heart made no answer,
A few unbidden invocations of the name of Buddha rose
to my lips, and then — silence.
"Written in my hut at Toyama, the second year of
Kenriaku (a.D. 121 2), the last day of the third month,
by me the monk Renin." ^
Some editions add the following pious Tanka :
" T/ie moon is gone —
A cruel mountam-spur
Where late she shone :
Oh ! that my soul had sight
Of the imfai ling light J'
Chomei is also the author of a collection of short essays
entitled Mumioshd (" Anonymous Selection "), mostly
relating to poetical subjects, and of the Shiki (" Four-
Seasons") Monogatariy descriptive of court functions
throughout the year.
^ Chomei's name as a Buddhist monk.
IZAYOI NO KI 157
Several diaries and journals of travel have come down
to us from the Kamakura period. The Izayoi no Ki is
the best known of these. It was written by a lady
called Abutsu, a name which indicates that she had
taken Buddhist vows. She was a descendant of one of
the Mikados, and the widow of a son of the Fujiwara no
Sadaiye who edited the Hiakunin-is-shiu. The diary was
composed on a journey which she took to Kamakura
in 1277 to obtain justice for her son Tamesuke against
an elder brother by a different mother, who had usurped
one of the family estates.
The Izayoi no Ki is a highly sentimental journey in-
terspersed plentifully with Tanka. The following short
passage may suffice as a specimen : —
^' 26th day. We crossed a river, which I believe is
called the Warashina, and proceeded to the shore of
Okitsu. I remembered the poem which says, 'the
moonshine behind me as I took my way with tears.'
At the place where we made our mid-day halt there
was a queer little pillow of boxwood. I lay down
quite exhausted, and finding an ink-stone there, wrote,
as I lay, the following on the paper slides close to my
pillow : —
' Twas an experience
Scarce worth remembering.
Tell it not to the worlds
O thou chance pillow !
Nor say that I have bound my self P
Musubi-okitsuy which means " to bind oneself down,"
also contains the name of the place where the author
was stopping. The verse is obviously composed simply
for the sake of this pun, and contains no record of
any actual personal experience.
158 JAPANESE LITERATURE
^*As it became dusk we passed Kiyomigaseki. Th^
waves breaking over the rocks looked as if they wer4
clothing them in white robes — a very pretty sight! \
Ye ancient rocks >
On the shore of Kiyomi! |
A question let me ask of you — '
How many suits have you put on
Of wet wave-garments ? "
[^^Wet garments" is a metaphorical expression foi
unmerited blame or punishment].
"Presently it became dark, and we put up for the
night in a village in that neighbourhood which stooc
close by the sea. From somewhere near, there came
smoke of burning, the smell of which was very noisome
It was no doubt caused by something the fishermer
were doing. It brought to my mind the words, 'th
rank odours of my nightly lodging.'
"The wind was very boisterous all night long, anc
the waves seemed breaking in tumult over my pillow.'
The next passage relates to Fujisan. It appears
from it that in the author's day the smoke from this
mountain was intermittent. It has long ago quite
ceased to rise.
The style of the Izayoi no Ki is very different fron:
that of the Gempei Seisuiki or Heike Monogatari. I
is comparatively free from Chinese elements, and reads
more like a work of the Heian period. The authoi
has evidently taken the Tosa Nikki for her model.
Abutsu also published a volume of critical essays on
poetry, called Yo no Tsuru ("The Crane in the Night")
and other less important writings.
The Ben no Naiji Nikkiy also by a woman, is a diary
of incidents which occurred between 1246 and 1252.
POETRY 159
Poetry
The manufacture of Tanka at the court of Kioto con-
tinued during this period. Several collections of verses
prepared under official auspices were the result ; but,
as they contain little which is characteristic, it is need-
less to dwell upon them. The poetry of this time
deserves mention chiefly as an indication that culture
was not wholly neglected during what was in the main
a benighted age.
It was now that the practice began of making
anthologies of Tanka consisting of one specimen each
of one hundred different authors. These are called
Hiaku-nin-is-shiu, The original collection of this kind,
which contains Tanka from the seventh to the thirteenth
centuries, is at this day in the hands of every Japanese
schoolgirl. It was compiled about 1235 by a court
noble named Sadaiye, one of the great Fujiwara clan,
which at this time had almost a monopoly of Japanese
poetry. It has been translated into English by Mr. F.
V. Dickins.
A new metre appeared during this period, which
took the place of the older Naga-uta. It is called
Ima-yo or "present fashion," and consists of alternate
phrases of seven and five syllables. This arrangement
is more or less closely approximated to in the poetical
passages which now begin to occur in prose works.
Books in Chinese
The works written in Chinese during the Kamakura
period bear witness to the general decay of learning.
They are composed in a species of bad Chinese which
i6o JAPANESE LITERATURE
may aptly be compared to the barbarous Latin of the
Middle Ages in Europe.
The most important is the Adzuma-Kagami or " Mirro
of the East/' a history of Japan from 1180 till I26(
Invaluable as a mine of historical information, its literar
worth is but small. It is one of those dry chronicle
in which events are jotted down month by month an(
day by day without any attempt to show their con
nection.
BOOK THE FIFTH
NAMBOKU-CHO (1332-1392) AND MUROMACHI
(1392-1603) PERIODS
(DARK AGE^
BOOK THE FIFTH
\AMBOKU-CHO (i 332-1392) AND MUROMACHI
(1392-1603) PERIODS
(DARK AGE)
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY— "JINKOSHOTOKI "—
"TAIHEIKI"
Towards the end of the Kamakura period the mis-
government of the Hojo regents, who were to the
Shoguns what the Shoguns had been to the Mikados, was
the cause of general discontent ; and when a Mikado of
resolute character came to the throne, the opportunity
seemed favourable for casting off the domination of the
military caste. At the court of Kioto there had always
been a strong undercurrent of intrigue directed against
the Shoguns' authority, and that of the regents who ruled
in their name. The Mikado Go Daigo was the first who
thought himself strong enough to take bolder measures.
After a desperate struggle, and many vicissitudes of for-
tune, his enterprise was partially successful. It resulted
in the establishment of two Mikados, who reigned simul-
taneously— one, the creature of the Shoguns, occupying
the old capital of Kioto ; while the second held his court
163
1 64 JAPANESE LITERATURE
at Yoshino and other places in the province of Yamat
and enjoyed a somewhat precarious independence. Thi
system, known in Japanese history as the Nam-boku-ch
(Southern and Northern Courts), was put an end to b
the reunion of the two Hues in the person of Go Komats
(1392), after a prolonged series of intestine troubles. A
new dynasty of Shoguns, the Ashikaga House, was by
this time established at Muromachi, in Kioto, a place
which gave its name to the next period of Japanese
history. It remained in power until 1603, when the
Shogunate, having again changed hands, was transferrec
a second time to the east of Japan.
The 270 years covered by these two periods were sin
gularly barren of important literature in Japan. One or
two quasi-historical works, a charming volume of essays,
and a few hundred short dramatic sketches (the No) are
all that deserve more than a passing notice.
" JlNKOSHOTOKl"
The author of the Jinkoshotoki was a statesman and
soldier named KiTABATAKE Chikafusa, who acted an
important part in the civil wars which disturbed Japan
during the first half of the fourteenth century.
Chikafusa was descended from a prince of the Imperial
family. He was born in 1293, and held various offices in
the early part of Go Daigo's reign, but on the death of a
prince to whom he was attached he shaved his head and
retired from public life. In 1333, when the Emperor Go
Daigo returned from the island of Oki, whither he had
been banished by the Kamakura Government, Chikafusa
was persuaded again to take office, and distinguished him-
self greatly in the wars which followed. The eminent
CHIKAFUSA 165
services he had rendered to the cause of the Southern
Court by his sword, his pen, and his counsel, were recog-
nised in 1 35 1 by the highest honours which his sovereign
could bestow. He died a few years later.
The Jinkoshotoki is Chikafusa's principal work. His
object in writing it is indicated by the title, which
means ^^ History of the True Succession of the Divine
Monarchs." It was composed in order to show that the
Mikados of the Southern Court, whose minister he was,
were the rightful sovereigns of Japan. This explains the
prominence which he gives to matters affecting the
authenticity of the Mikado's claims to the throne, such
as the history of the regalia, genealogies, questions of
disputed succession, and the like.
It was written in the reign of Go Murakami (1339-1345).
The first of the six volumes of which it consists is purely
mythical. It begins literally ab ovo with the egg-shaped
chaotic mass from which heaven and earth were deve-
loped. Then we have an account of the creation of Japan
by the male and female deities Izanagi and Izanami, taken
partly from the Nihongiy but mixed up with Chinese
philosophy and Indian mythical cosmography in the
strangest manner. The descent of the Mikados from the
Sun-goddess, who in Japan is the daughter of the divine
creator pair, is then traced with due attention through a
series of deities down to Jimmu Tenno, who is reckoned
the first human sovereign of Japan.
The next four volumes are a resume, necessarily brief
and meagre, of the history of Japan from Jimmu Tenno
(who came to the throne, according to the ordinary
Japanese chronology, in B.C. 660) down to the accession
of Fushimi in A.D. 1288.
The sixth volume deals with the history of Chikafusa's
i66 JAPANESE LITERATURE
own time. It is very disappointing. Although the writer
and his sons took a prominent part in the fighting anc
pontics of their day, Chikafusa has not thought proper tc
give more than a short and bald account of the events ir
which he was a principal actor. Most of this volume
taken up with dissertations on the principles of govern-
ment, which, however necessary for a comprehension o
the motives and ideas of Japanese statesmen under th(
old regime, are not very interesting to the Europeai
reader.
By his own countrymen Chikafusa has been mucl
lauded as an exponent of the Chinese type of politica
philosophy. Even modern critics bestow on him a lavisl
praise which to us seems hardly deserved. His writings
certainly contain evidences of statesman-like capacity, aj
for example his condemnation of sinecures and mortmair
grants to ecclesiastical foundations ; and if there is alsc
much that we are inclined to set down as mere platitudes
it is fair to remember that Chikafusa was the first Japanes(
writer who attempted to apply philosophical principle!
to actual politics, and that what seems trite to us ma;
have appeared novel and striking to contemporar
readers.
The style of the Jinkoshotoki is simple and unpreten
tious. Its value as literature is small in proportion to th(
political influence which it has exercised. Not only wai
the cause of which the author was a devoted champior
substantially furthered by its publication, but it has als<
left its mark on later times. Chikafusa's patriotic senti-
ments and his loyalty to the de jure sovereign of hii
country had a large share, directly, or filtered dowr
through the works of writers who derived their inspira
tion from him, in forming the public feeling and opinioi
CHIKAFUSA 167
which led to the restoration of the Mikado's power in our
own day.
He is one of the few writers of this class who do not
indulge in Tanka.
The following extracts will give some idea of the quality
of Chikafusa's political reasonings : —
"Great Yamato is a divine country. It is only our
land whose foundations were first laid by the divine
ancestor. It alone has been transmitted by the Sun
Goddess to a long line of her descendants. There is
nothing of this kind in foreign countries. Therefore it
is called the divine land."
" It is only our country which, from the time that
heaven and earth were first unfolded until this very day,
has preserved the succession to the throne intact in one
single family. Even when, as sometimes naturally hap-
pened, it descended to a lateral branch, it was held in
accordance with just principles. This shows that the
august oath of the gods [to preserve the succession] is
ever renewed in a way which distinguishes japan from
all other countries."
" There are matters in the w^ay of the gods [the Shinto
religion] which it is difficult to expound. Nevertheless,
if we do not know the origin of things, the result is
necessarily confusion. To remedy this evil I have jotted
down a few observations showing how the succession
from the age of the gods has been governed by reason,
and have taken no pains to produce an ordinary history.
This work may therefore be entitled ^ History of the True
Succession of Divine Monarchs.' "
*'The man devotes himself to husbandry, providing
68 JAPANESE LITERATURE
food for himself and others, and thus warding off hunger ;
the woman attends to spinning, thereby clothing herself
and also making others warm. These may seem mean
offices, but it is on them that the structure of human
society rests. They are in accordance with the seasons
of heaven, and depend on the benefits drawn from
earth.
" Others are skilled in deriving gain from commerce ;
while others, again, prefer the practice of the mechanic
arts, or have the ambition to become officials. These
are what are called the ' four classes of the people.'
"Of officials there are two classes — the civil and the
military. The method of the civil official is to remain
at home and reason upon the right way, wherein, if he
attains to lucidity, he may rise to be a Minister of State.
It is the business of the soldier, on the other hand, to
render service in warlike expeditions, wherein, if he gains
fame, he may become a general. Therefore these two
professions ought not to be neglected for a moment. It
has been said, ^ In times of civil disorder, arms are placed
to the right and letters to the left ; in peace, letters are
put to the right and arms to the left.' "
" It is the duty of every man born on the Imperial soil
to yield devoted loyalty to his sovereign, even to the sacri-
fice of his own life. Let no one suppose for a moment
that there is any credit due to him for so doing. Never-
theless, in order to stimulate the zeal of those who come
after, and in loving memory of the dead, it is the business
of the ruler to grant rewards in such cases [to the chil-
dren]. Those who are in an inferior position should not
enter into rivalry with them. Still more should those
who have done no specially meritorious service abstain
CHIKAFUSA 169
Horn inordinate ambitions. It is a truly blessed principle
to observe the rut of the chariot which has preceded, at
whatever risk to our own safety [that is, a conservative
pohcy should be maintained at all hazards]."
*' I have already touched in several places on the prin-
ciples of statesmanship. They are based on justice and
mercy, in the dispensing of which firm action is requisite.
Such is the clear instruction vouchsafed to us by Ten-
shodaijin [the Sun Goddess]. Firm action is displayed in
various ways. Firstly, in the choice of men for official
positions. Japan and China both agree that the basis of
good government consists in the sovereign finding the
right man and bestowing his favour on him. Secondly,
in excluding private motives from the distribution of
appointments to provinces and districts. This should be
done on grounds of reason only. Thirdly, firm action is
shown in the reward of merit and the punishment of
crime. By this means encouragement is given to virtue,
and wickedness is repressed. If any of these three things
is neglected, we have what is called bad government."
'^Sinecures and jobbery in the matter of promotions
are steps towards the downfall of the State, and fatal to
the permanence of the royal office."
Another work by Chikafusa is the Gengenshiuy in eight
volumes. It contains a resume of the myths which are
articles of the Shinto faith.
Like the Jinkdshdtokiy the celebrated work named
Taiheiki is a history of the attempts of the Mikado Go
Daigo to shake off the domination of the ^^ Eastern Bar-
barians," as the Kamakura Shoguns and their adherents
lyo JAPANESE LITERATURE
were called, and of the civil wars arising out of
enterprises which distracted Japan for more than fort)
years.
The edition entitled Taiheiki Sdmoku has an introduci
tion purporting to relate the circumstances under whict
this work was compiled, on the authority of a ^'tradition/
the sources of which are unknown to us. Begun, it i^
said, at the instance of the Mikado Go Daigo, by \
priest named Genye, it was continued by other priest
at various times, until its completion in 1382. Thes(
writers, we are told, based their narratives on infor
mation obtained directly from the Shogun Takauji
Nitta Yoshisada, Kusunoki Masashige, and other chie
actors in the political events of the day. Recent inves
tigation, however, seems to show that the author wa
really a priest named KOJIMA, probably belonging to om
of the three thousand monasteries of Hiyeisan, who die(
in 1374, but of whom nothing further is known. If thi
be correct, either the former account is an imposture, c
which there are not a few in the literary annals of Japar
or Kojima may have utilised materials collected in th
manner just described. Internal evidence points to th
Taiheiki being the work of one person who wrote som
time after the events related, and who owed much mor
to his imagination than to direct communication with th
heroes of his story.
It begins with a sketch of the history of the Shogunat
from its foundation by Yoritomo in 1181, and then goe
on to describe the political condition of Japan at th
accession of Go Daigo in 13 19. The events of this reigr
which ended in 1339, ^^^ given in considerable detai
and the work is continued to the close of the reign of G<
Murakami (1368).
TAIHEIKI 171
The Taiheiki^ as it has come down to us, contains
several chapters which have Httle or nothing to do with
the general plan of the work, and look very like inter-
polations by some later writer. Such are the chapters
on '' Rebellions in Japan," on the conquest of Yamato by
Jimmu Tenno, on the Corean expedition of Jingo K5gu,
and on the Mongol invasion of Japan by Kublai Khan.
The addenda in the Somoku edition form, of course, no
part of the original work.
Taiheiki or '^ Record of Great Peace " is a strange
name for the history of one of the most disturbed
periods that Japan has ever passed through. It presents
a succession of intrigues, treasons, secret conspiracies,
and open warfare, with wholesale sentences of death or
banishment. This was not, however, the original name
of the work. It was at first called Anki Yuraiki or
" Record of the Causes of Peace and Danger." Another
name for it was Kokuka Jiranki, or ^^ Record of the Cure
of Civil Disturbance in the State." These last titles rather
suggest a philosophical history. But the Taiheiki is very
much the reverse of this. It is clearly the work, not of
a statesman or philosopher, but of a literary man intent
on producing an ornate and romantic story. So long as
this end is attained, fact and fiction are to him very much
alike. It is difficult to say which predominates in his
narrative. He is notoriously inaccurate in such matters
as numbers, dates, and genealogies ; but that is nothing to
the way in which he embroiders his accounts of sieges
and battles with details that cannot possibly have been
handed down by eye-witnesses, and to the dreams,
portents, and miraculous occurrences with which his
story abounds. There are also numerous speeches,
apparently adapted by him to the speaker and the
172 JAPANESE LITERATURE
i
occasion, but which, like those in Thucydides, have
nevertheless a certain historical value. The serious way
in which the commentators treat the TaiheikVs frequent
excursions into the land of romance is not a little
amusing.
The style of Kojima (if he is the author) has been
condemned by native critics as inflated and pedantic.
It must be admitted that there is not a little truth in
these charges. The Taiheiki supplies abundant evidence
of his erudition and command of all the resources of
Chinese and Japanese rhetoric. His pages at times are
highly charged with Chinese words and phrases, and
fairly bristle with Chinese historical allusions and
quotations. In this style of writing, a '^ bamboo grove '*
means a family of princes, a ^^ pepper court" is put for
the Imperial harem, " cloud guests " stand for courtiers,
the Mikado's carriage is termed the ^^ Phoenix Car," and
his face the ^^ Dragon Countenance." A fair lady is said
to put to shame Mao Ts'iang and Si She, famous beauties
of Chinese antiquity. Civil war is a time when ^^ wolf-
smoke obscures the heaven, and whale-waves shake the
earth." Kojima does not hesitate even to insert long
episodes of Chinese and Indian history which present
some resemblance to the events which he is describing,
especially if they lend themselves to romantic treatment.
Still more trying to the ordinary Western reader than
his ostentatious display of Chinese learning is the'
Buddhist theology in which Kojima was plainly well
versed, and of which there is more than enough in the
Taiheiki. Students of the history of religion, however,
will find this feature of the work interesting. Kojima is
a typical case which illustrates the national propensity
for compromise and arrangement in matters of faith. In
TAIHEIKI 173
the Taiheiki he makes an attempt to reconcile three
essentially conflicting systems, viz., Chinese philosophy,
Shinto mythology, and Buddhism, including with the
latter the older Indian myths which found their way to
Japan in its company. Thus in a passage near the end
of Book XVI. he describes the Yin and Yang (the
negative and positive principles of nature according to
the Chinese) as the origin and source of all things.
These two elements by their mutual interaction evolve
Izanagi and Izanami, the creator deities of the Shinto
Pantheon. Their child Tenshodaijin (the Sun Goddess)
proves to be a manifestation of Buddha, one of whose
services to humanity was at some far remote period to
subdue the ^' Evil Kings of the Six Heavens " of Indian
myth, and compel them to withdraw their opposition to
the spread of the true doctrine (that is, Buddhism) in
Japan.
Kojima, however, does not always draw his inspiration
from China or from theology. Like the Heike Monoga-
tari, the Taiheiki contains a number of highly poetical
passages which owe nothing to foreign models or ideas.
In metre they resemble Naga-uta, except that the order
of the alternation of five and seven syllable phrases is
reversed. Words of Chinese origin are not wholly
excluded. One of these passages describes the enforced
journey of Toshimoto, an adherent of the Mikado Go
Daigo, to Kamakura, where he was executed for treason
to the Shogunate ; and another, that of the same Mikado,
to an exile in the island of Oki. The names of places
along the route are ingeniously woven into the narrative
in such a way as to suggest reflections suitable to the
circumstances. This feature of the Taiheiki has had an
enormous influence on the work of the dramatists and
174 JAPANESE LITERATURE
novelists of the Yedo period, as is shown by the nume-
rous direct imitations of the passages just describee
(known as michiyuki or "journeys"), and by the
rhythmical swing of the alternation of seven and five
syllable phrases, due to its example, which pervades so
much of the subsequent popular literature.
Europeans who propose to take up the study of the
Taiheiki will be glad to learn that there still remains a
good deal of straightforward, business-like narrative,
which, though not without occasional florid phrases
and picturesque touches, is laudably free from recondite
allusions and obscure metaphors, perplexing to the un-
learned, and condemned as pedantic even by those wh(
understand them.
The language of the Taiheiki is very different froi
that of the writings of the Heian period. Simplei
forms are substituted for the older, more elaborate;
grammatical structure, and the vocabulary is enrichec
by the accession of a vast number of Chinese words
which no longer, as formerly, are only admitted tc
the literature after a time of probation in the collo-
quial speech, but are taken straight from Chinese
books.
The importance of the Taiheiki in the history o;
Japanese literature is far greater than its intrinsic merits
would lead us to expect. More than any other worl
it is the foundation of the modern literary style, anc
its good and bad qualities generally are reflected ii
the writings of a host of imitators, direct or indirect.
The events and personages which it describes are
the themes of a very large share of the modern litera-
ture of Japan, and allusions to it are continually met
with. Its popularity is further testified to by the fact
TAIHEIKI 175
that there sprang up at Yedo and Kioto a distinct
class of professors who earned a Hving by giving Tai-
heiki readings. They correspond to the biwa-bonzes
who chanted the Heike Mo7iogatari.
The following is an account of a battle between the
Shogun's adherents and the monks of Hiyeisan, who
had for once espoused the Mikado's cause. It was
fought near Karazaki, on the shore of Lake Biwa. This
passage may serve as a specimen, as it was probably
the model, of innumerable similar combats in Japanese
literature : —
^'When Kaito saw this, ^The enemy are few/ he
cried. ^ We must disperse them before the rear comes
up. Follow me, my lads.' With these words he drew
his 3 feet 6 inch sword, and holding up his armed
left sleeve as an arrow guard, rushed midmost into
the whirl of the expectant foe. Three of them he
laid low. Then retiring to the beach of the lake,
he rallied to him his followers. Now when Kwai-
jitsu, a monk of Okamoto, descried him from afar, he
kicked over — ^ Kappa ! ' — the shield which he had set up
before him, and with his 2 feet 8 inch bill revolving
like a water-wheel, sprang forward to attack him.
Kaito received the stroke with his armed left sleeve,
while with his right he aimed a blow at the skull-piece
of his adversary's helmet, meaning to split it fair in
twain. But his sword glanced off obliquely to the
shoulder-plate, and thence downwards to the cross-
stitched rim of his epauliere^ doing no harm. In
endeavouring to repeat the blow he used such force
that his left stirrup-leather broke, and he was on the
point of falling from his horse. He recovered his
seat, but as he was doing so Kwaijitsu thrust forward
176 JAPANESE LITERATURE
the shaft of his bill so that the point entered Kaito
helmet from below two or three times in successio
Nor did he fail in his aim. Kaito, stabbed throug
the windpipe, fell headlong from his horse. Kwaijits
presently placed his foot on the depending tassel oi
Kaito's armour, and seizing him by the hair, drew il
towards him, while he cut off his head, which he ther
fixed on the end of his bill. * A good beginning !
have slain a general of the military faction,' he ex-
claimed joyously, with a mocking laugh. Whilst he
was standing thus, a boy of about fifteen or sixteen
with his hair still bound up in ^Chinese-ring' fashion
wearing a corselet of the colour of brewer's grains, his
trousers tucked up high at the side, came out from
among the onlookers, and drawing a small gold-mounted
sword, rushed at Kwaijitsu and smote him vigorously
three or four times on the skull-piece of his helmet
Kwaijitsu turned sharply, but seeing a child of twice
eight years, with painted eyebrows and blackened teeth,
thought that to cut down a boy of this age would be
a piece of cruelty unbecoming his priestly condition.
To avoid killing him he made numerous dashes, re-
peatedly flourishing his weapon over him. It then
occurred to Kwaijitsu to knock the sword out of the
boy's hands with the shaft of his bill and seize him in
his arms ; but while he was trying to do so, some of
the party of the Hiyei cross-roads approached by a
narrow path between the rice-fields, and an arrow shot
by one of them transfixed the lad's heart so that he^
fell dead upon the spot. Upon inquiry it was found
that this was Kaito's eldest son Karawakamaru. For-
bidden by his father to take part in the fight, he was
discontented, and mixing with the crowd of spectators,
TAIHEIKI 177
had followed after. Though a child, he was a born
soldier, and when he saw his father slain he too fell
lighting on the same battlefield, leaving a name behind.
Alas, the pity of it !
^* When Kaito's retainers saw this, they felt that after
having their chieftain and his son killed before their
eyes, and, what was still worse, their heads taken by
the enemy, none of them ought to return home alive.
Thirty-six of them, bridle to bridle, made an onrush,
each more eager than the other to fall fighting, and
make a pillow of his lord's dead body. Kwaijitsu,
seeing this, laughed out, ' Ha ! ha ! There is no
understanding you fellows,' he exclaimed. ' You ought
to be thinking of taking the heads of enemies instead
of guarding the heads of your own people. This is
an omen of the ruin of the military power. If you
want the head you can have it.' So saying, he flung
the head of Kaito into the midst of the foe, and with
downward-sweeping blows in the Okamoto style, cleared
a space in all directions."
The next specimen of Kojima's style is from an account
of the arrest of Toshimoto, one of the Mikado Go Daigo's
principal advisers, on a charge of conspiracy against the
Shogunate.
^' On the nth day of the seventh month he was
arrested and taken to Rokuwara [the residence of the
Shogun's representative at Kioto], and was despatched
thence to the eastern provinces. He set out on his
journey, well knowing that the law allowed no pardon for
a second offence of this kind, and that whatever he might
plead in his defence he would not be released. Either
he would be done away with on the journey, or he would
be executed at Kamakura. No other end was possible,"
M
178 JAPANESE LITERATURE
(Then, without any warning of type or otherwise, there
follows a passage which in metre, diction, and sentiment
is essentially poetry. It is not very original, however,
much of it consisting of scraps of verse supplied by the.
author's memory from older writers.) i
" But one night more and a strange lodging would be his,
Farfrotn Kadono, where in spring his steps had often wandered
in the snow of the fallen cherry-flowers ; |
Farfroin Arashiyama^ whence on an autumn eve he was wont ta
return clad i7i the brocade of the red maple leaves —
Despondent^ his mind could think of nothing but his home, bound
to him by the strongest ties of love,
A?td of his wife and children, whose future was dark to him.
' For the last time^ he thought, as he looked back 07i the ninefold
Imperial city.
For many a year his wonted habitation.
How sad his heart must have been within him
As he set out on this unlooked-for journey /
His sleeve wet in the fountain of the barrier of Osaka —
No barrier, alas ! to stay his sorrow —
He sets forth over the mountain track to Uchide^ no hama.
When from the shore he cast his glance afar over the waveV
Here the author becomes so involved in ingenious
punning combinations of the names of places on th(
route with the thread of his story that it is impossible t(
follow him in a translation.
The following is one of the extraneous chapters of th(
Taiheiki. It describes in a very imaginative fashion th(
famous Mongol invasion of Japan by Kublai Khan in th<
thirteenth century of our era.
^^ Poring over the records of ancient times, in the lei-
sure afforded me by the three superfluous things [nightj
winter, and rain], I find that since the Creation there hav(
been seven invasions of Japan by foreign countries. Th(
^ Uchide means ** to set forth," and hama, " shore."
TAIHEIKI 179
most notable of these attacks were in the periods Bunyei
(1264- 1 275) and Koan (1278- 1288). At this time the
Great Yuan Emperor [Kublai Khan] had conquered by
force of arms the four hundred provinces of China.
Heaven and earth were oppressed by his power. Hard
would it have been for a small country like our own to
repel him, and that it was able easily and without effort
to destroy the armies of Great Yuan was due to naught
else but the divine blessing.
'' The plan of this expedition was as follows : General
Wan, the leader of the Yuan force, having estimated the
area of the five metropolitan provinces of Japan at 3700 ri
square, calculated that to fill this space with soldiers so as
to leave no part of it unoccupied would require an army
of 3,700,000 men. So he set forth from the various
ports and bays with his troops embarked in a fleet of
more than 70,000 great ships. Our Government, having
had previous information of this design, ordered pre-
parations to be made. The forces of Shikoku and
Kiushiu were directed to assemble in all haste at Hakata,
in Tsukushi ; those of the western provinces of the main
island hurried to the capital ; while the men of Tosando
and of the northern provinces occupied the port of Tsu-
ruga, in Echizen.
"Thereupon the warships of Great Yuan, 70,000 in
number, arrived together at the port of Hakata on the
third day of the eighth month of the second year of
Bunyei (1265). Their great vessels were lashed together,
and gangways laid across from one to another. Every
division was surrounded by screens of oilcloth ; their
weapons were set up in regular array. From the Goto
Islands eastward as far as Hakata the sea was enclosed
on all sides for 400 ri, a of and sudden became dry land.
i8o JAPANESE LITERATURE
One wondered whether a sea-serpent vapour had nc
been belched out and formed a mirage.
"On the Japanese side a camp was constructed en
tending for thirteen ri along the beach of Hakata. j
high stone embankment formed its front, precipitous o:
the side of the enemy, but so arranged in the rear as t
allow free movement for our troops. In the shelter of thi
plastered walls were erected, and barracks constructec
in which several tens of thousands of men were lodged i
due order. It was thought that in this way the enem
would be unable to ascertain our numbers. But on th
bows of the hostile ships, beams like those used for rai
ing water from wells were set up to a height of sever
hundred feet, at the ends of which platforms were placec
Men seated on these were able to look down into th
Japanese camp and count every hair's end. Moreove
they chained together planks forty or fifty feet wid
so as to form a sort of rafts, which, when laid on th
surface of the water, provided a number of level roac
over the waves, like the three great thoroughfares
the twelve main streets [of Kioto]. By these roads th
enemy's cavalry appeared in many tens of thousand
and fought so desperately that our troops relaxed the:
ardour, and many of them had thoughts of retreat. Whe
the drum was beaten, and a hand-to-hand contest W2
already engaged, iron balls, like footballs, were let fi
from things called 'cannon' [with a sound] like car
wheels rolling down a steep declivity, and accompanie
by flashes like lightning. Two or three thousand of thea
were let go at once. Most of the Japanese troops wei
burnt to death, and their gates and turrets set fire t(
There was no opportunity of putting out the flames.
'* When the men of Upper Matsura and Lower Matsu
TAIHEIKI i8i
saw this, they felt that ordinary measures would be use-
less, so they made a circuit by way of another bay, and,
with only looo men, ventured on a night attack. But
however brave they might be, they were no more than
one hair upon a bull or one grain of rice in a granary.
Attacking with so small a force, they slew several tens of
thousands of the enemy, but in the end were all made
prisoners. They were bound with cruel cords, and their
hands nailed to the bulwarks of the line of vessels.
"No further resistance was possible. All the men of
Kiushiu fled to Shikoku and the provinces north of the
Inland Sea. The whole Japanese nation was struck with
panic, and knew not what to do. Visits to the shrines of
the Shinto gods, and public and secret services in the
Buddhist temples, bowed down the Imperial mind and
crushed the Imperial liver and gall-bladder. Imperial
messengers were despatched with offerings to all the
gods of heaven and earth, and all the Buddhist temples
of virtue to answer prayer, great and small alike, through-
out the sixty provinces. On the seventh day, when the
Imperial devotions were completed, from Lake Suwa
there arose a cloud of many colours, in shape like a great
serpent, which spread away towards the west. The doors
of the Temple-treasury of Hachiman flew open, and the
skies were filled with a sound of galloping horses and of
ringing bits. In the twenty-one shrines of Yoshino the
brocade-curtained mirrors moved, the swords in the
Temple-treasury put on a sharp edge, and all the shoes
offered to the god turned towards the west. At Sumi-
yoshi sweat poured from below the saddles of the four
horses sacred to the deities, and the iron shields turned
of themselves and faced the enemy in a line."
(Many more similar wonders follow.)
1 82 JAPANESE LITERATURE
'^ Now General Wan of Great Yuan, having cast off
moorings of his 70,000 ships, at the hour of the dragon
on the seventeenth day of the eighth month started foi
Nagato and Suwo by way of Moji and Akamagaseki
[Shimonoseki]. His fleet were midway on their course
when the weather, which had been windless, with the
clouds at rest, changed abruptly. A mass of black clouds
arising from the north-east covered the sky, the wine
blew fiercely, the tumultuous billows surged up tc
heaven, the thunder rolled and the lightning dashec
against the ground so abundantly that it seemed as i:
great mountains were crumbling down and high heaven
falling to the earth. The 70,000 warships of the foreign
pirates either struck upon cragged reefs and were broken
to atoms, or whirling round in the surging eddies, weni
down with all hands.
" Nevertheless, General Wan alone wap neither driven
off by the storm nor buried beneath the waves, but flew
aloft and stood in the calm seclusion of the middle heaven
Here he was met by a sage named RyoTo-bin, who came
soaring from the west. He addressed General Wan as
follows : ' The gods of heaven and the gods of earth of
the entire country of Japan, 3700 shrines or more, hav
raised this evil wind and made the angry billows surg*
aloft. Human power cannot cope with them. I advise
you to embark at once in your one shattered ship and
return to your own country.' General Wan was per-
suaded. He embarked in the one shattered ship which
remained, braved all alone the waves of 10,000 ri of ocean,
and presently arrived at the port of Mingchu [in China]."
The word rendered ^^cannon" is teppOy lit. ^'iron tube."
It properly means a matchlock. But according to the
encyclopaedia called the Sansaidzuye^ neither cannon nor,
TAIHEIKI 183
matchlocks were known to the Chinese before the six-
teenth century. Matchlocks were first introduced into
Japan by Mendez Pinto and his companions in 1543, and
were not known to the Chinese until later. The inference
is that this passage, and probably the whole chapter, is a
later interpolation.
It is perhaps necessary to remind the reader that there
is a nucleus of fact hidden among all this fictitious em-
broidery. Kublai Khan did send a large fleet against
Japan about the time stated, which met with a fate
similar to that of the Spanish Armada prepared for the
conquest of England.
4
CHAPTER II
KENKO AND THE "TSURE-DZURE-GUSA^'i
If there are many arid wastes in Japanese literature,
there are also some pleasant oases, and of these the
Tsure-dzure-gusa is surely one of the most delightful.
It is a collection of short sketches, anecdotes, and
essays on all imaginable subjects, something in the
manner of Selden's Table Talk. The author is known
to us as Kenko-boshi, bdshi being an honorific epithet
something like our Reverend. He was a man of good
family, and traced his descent through various dis-,
tinguished personages from the Shinto deity Kogane
no Mikoto. For many years in the service of the
Mikado Go Uda no In, his writings show an intimate
acquaintance with the ways and customs of the Im-
perial palace. On the death of his master in 1324,
Kenko became a Buddhist monk, and retired from
public life, spending the remainder of his days in
various secluded spots in the neighbourhood of Ki5to.
The date of his death is not positively known, but
there is nothing improbable in the statement that he
died in 1350, in his sixty-eighth year.
Very contradictory views of his character have been
taken by native writers. Some call him a profligate,
unscrupulous, common priest, and quote an old scandal
1 Translated by Rev. C. S. Eby, in the Chrysanthemum, vol. iii.
184
TSURE-DZURE-GUSA 1 8 5
told in the Taiheikiy of his writing for Ko no Moronao
the letters which he addressed to the wife of Yenya
Hangwan urging his adulterous suit. But the Taiheiki
is a very dubious authority, and there are other reasons
for questioning the truth of this story. Kenko's ad-
mirers maintain that he was a truly pious man.
Judging from his writings, there would appear to have
been two personalities in Kenko, the shrewd, polished,
and somewhat cynical man of the world, and the
Buddhist devotee, the former element of his character
having a decided preponderance. His religion was to
all appearance sincere, but was certainly not profound-
Like Horace, whom he much resembles in character,
he had his pious moods, but was very far indeed from
being a saint. A professor of the Tendai sect of
Buddhism, he has much to say, and says it well, of
the uncertainty of life, the folly of ambition and
money-getting, and the necessity for putting away the
lusts of this wicked world and preparing betimes for
eternity. But the old Adam is never far off. His
unregenerate nature is not to be suppressed, and gives
evidence of its existence ever and anon in passages
which his devout admirers would wilHngly forget.
His religion was not of that robust kind which thrives
amid the cares and distractions of the world, and by
which ordinary life may be made '' a perfumed altar-
flame." He has left on record his opinion (which is
indeed a commonplace of the sect to which he be-
longed) that true piety is impossible except in seclu-
sion from the world. The quiet of his own hermitage
having once been disturbed by the visit of a hunting
party, he composed a poem complaining that the world
pursued him even there, and changed his abode to a
1 86 JAPANESE LITERATURE
still more remote locality. But with all his precau
tions he never attained to Nirvana, if by that term
are to understand the holy calm of mind which is
result of long-continued meditation on divine things.
The name Kenko, which he selected when he became
a monk, is characteristic of his spiritual condition. H(
retained the two Chinese characters with which his
lay name Kaneyoshi is written, simply altering the
pronunciation to something which with a little good
will might be allowed to stand for a Buddhist priestly
designation. This is much as if a man named Olivei
were to enter religion as " Brother Oliverus/' insteac
of adopting a saint's name from the calendar.
^ There is much self-revelation in Kenko's writings
The personality which they portray is not a wholly
lovable one. There is something wrong about the mar
who abhorred matrimony (not that celibacy and chastit)
were with him convertible terms), thought children
a mistake, and declared that after forty life was no"
worth living. The following anecdote, which he him-
self relates, throws some light on his curiously mixec
character : —
" Even men from whom we should not expect muct
feeling sometimes say a good thing. A certain wile
savage of terrible appearance, meeting a neighbour
asked him, had he any children. ^ Not one,' was the
reply. ' Then you cannot know the Ah-ness of things
and your doings must be with a heart devoid of feel-
ing.' This is a very fearful saying. It is no doubl
true that by children men become conscious of the
Ah-ness of all things. Without the path of the natura
affections how should there be any sentiment in the
hearts of such persons?"
TSURE-DZURE-GUSA 187
To know the Ah-ness of things {mono no aware wo
shiru) is a phrase which is constantly recurring in
Japanese Hterature, especially during the classical period.
The learned critic Motoori discusses it at great length
in his treatise on the nature of poetry entitled ho no
Kami Shi-shuhi-gen, It means to have a sensitive,
emotional nature, the cceur sensible of the French, and
applies more particularly to a capacity for receiving
the impressions produced on man by Nature in her
various moods.
Kenko would doubtless have spurned the idea that
for an accomplished gentleman, scholar, and poet like
himself paternity was necessary in order to awaken
the emotional sensibilities, though in the case of "such
persons" as the rude peasant of his story this might
very well be the case.
The followers of the various forms of religion and
ethics practised in Japan have all claimed Kenk5 as
a teacher of their own set of doctrines. It is true
that although he is in tlie main a Buddhist, he had,
with the liberal comprehensiveness characteristic of the
Japanese nation, more than a mere tolerance for other
faiths. He not only showed a reverence for the Shinto
deities, but was a profound student of the Confucian
moral philosophy, and even of Taoism, thaUnass of vague
speculations attributed to Laotze and his disciple Chwang-
tze. But it is a mistake to regard him as a partisan of
any particular creed, or as a moral teacher at all. He
tells us himself in the opening sentences of the Tsure-
dzure-gusa that it was written to while away the live-long
days of tedium {tsure-dzure), sitting with his ink-slab
before him, and jotting down all manner of trifles as
they presented themselves to his mind. If one of his
///
1 88 JAPANESE LITERATURE
latest editors is correct, it was not even written for publi
cation, but was collected after his death into its presen
form by some unknown person.
Kenko was a lover of antiquity, whether in the shape
of old works of art, the old customs and forms of speech
which lingered (and still linger) about the Mikado's palace,
or old books. He speaks in terms of special admira-
tion of the Genji Monogatari and the Makura Zosht, on
which his own style was evidently modelled. It contrasts
strongly with the idiom charged with Chinese vocables,
metaphors, and allusions, which in his day had well-nigh
supplanted the old Japanese of the Heian period. Kenko
in a word, is a belated classic. He has no objection to ^
useful Chinese word or an apt illustration from Chinese
history, but his purer taste rejects the pompous plati
tudes and pedantic show of learning which too often
disfigure the works of imitators of Chinese models. Hi
essays read like the conversation of a polished man of
the world, and have that appearance of simplicity and
ease of expression which is in reality the result of
consummate art.
Those who wish to enter on the study of the older
Japanese literature cannot make a better choice than the
Tsure-dzure-gusa. It is not so difficult as the Genji Mono
gatari or the Makura Zoshiy and the new edition called
the Tsure-dzure-gusa Kogi affords every help in the way
of explanation to those who have made sufficient pro-
gress in Japanese to avail themselves of it. The lover of
curious books will prefer the quaint old block-printec
editions of 1672 and 1688, both of which have numerous
notes.
Kenko had a high reputation as a writer of Tanka. He
was one of the "Four Heavenly Kings" (a phrase bor
TSURE-DZURE-GUSA 1 89
rowed from Indian mythology), as the four chief poets
of his day were termed. Fortunately, most students of
Japanese will say, the exercise of Kenko's poetic talent
has been diverted into other channels. The Tsure-dzure-
gusa is not besprinkled with Tanka.
Some Extracts from the ^' Tsure-dzure-gusa "
" When I was eight years of age, I asked my father,
^What sort of thing is a Buddha?' He replied, 'A
Buddha is something which a man grows into.' ^ How
then does one become a Buddha ? ' said I. ^ By the teach-
ings of a Buddha.' * But who taught the Buddha who
gives us this teaching ? ' ^ He becomes a Buddha by the
teaching of another Buddha who was before him.' ^ Then
what sort of a Buddha was that first Buddha of all who
began teaching ? ' My father was at an end of his answers,
and replied, laughing, ' I suppose he must have flown
down from the sky or sprung up from the ground.' He
used to tell his friends this conversation, much to their
amusement."
" However accomplished a man may be, without gal-
lantry he is a very lonely being. Such a one reminds me
of a costly wine-cup that has no bottom."
^^That man is to be envied whose mind is fixed on
futurity, and to whom the way of Buddha is familiar."
" What strikes men's eyes most of all in a woman is the
beauty of her hair. Her quality and disposition may be
gathered from the manner of her speech, even though a
screen be interposed. There are occasions too when her
very posture when seated leads a man's heart astray.
Then, until his hopes are realised, he bears patiently
what is not to be borne, regardless even of his life. It is
I90 JAPANESE LITERATURE
only love which can do this. Deep indeed are the roots
of passion, and remote its sources. It is possible to put
away from us all the other lusts of this wicked world.
But this one alone it is very hard to eradicate. Old and
young, wise and foolish, all are alike its slaves. There-
fore it has been said that with a cord twined of a woman's
hair the great elephant may be firmly bound ; with a
whistle carved from a woman's shoe the deer in autumn
may without fail be lured.
^^ It is this beguilement which we must chastise in our-
selves, it is this which we must dread, it is this against
which we must be on our guard."
'' One day in the tenth month [about our September]
I took a walk over the plain of Kurisu, and exploring
a certain hill-district which lay beyond, was threading
my way along a narrow moss-grown path, when I came
upon a lonely cottage. No sound was to be heard except
the dripping of water from a pipe buried under fallen
leaves. It was, however, inhabited, as I gathered from
the chrysanthemums and red autumn leaves which be-
strewed the domestic shrine. 'Ah!' thought I, 'to
spend one's days even in such a spot ! ' But whilst I
stood gazing I espied in the garden beyond a great
orange-tree with branches bending to the ground. It
was strongly fenced off on every side. This [evidence
that covetous desires had penetrated even here] some-
what dispelled my dreams, and I wished from my heart
that no such tree had been."
'' If we take a pen in hand, it suggests writing ; if we
take up a musical instrument, the very act of doing
so prompts us to make music ; a wine-cup suggests
drinking ; dice make us think of gambling. Our hearts
are inevitably influenced by our actions. We should
TSURE-DZURE-GUSA 191
therefore be careful to abstain wholly from iinedifying
amusements.
" If we thoughtlessly glance at a verse of the Sacred
I" Scriptures, what goes before and after presents itself to
our minds without our effort, and this may lead to a
sudden reformation of the errors of many years. If we
ihad never read the Scriptures, how should we have known
this ? Such is the virtue of association.
^^ If, even without any pious intentions whatever, we
kneel down before the Buddha, and take in our hands
the sacred book and the bell, a good work goes on of
itself within us. If, even with wandering minds, we take
our seat on the rope-mat, unawares we become absorbed
in devout contemplation.
*^At bottom, action and principle are one. If w^e are
careful to avoid offences in our outward actions, the
inner principle becomes fortified. We should therefore
beware of making a profession of unbelief, and treat
religion with all honour and respect."
" There are many things in this world which to me are
incomprehensible. I cannot understand how any one
can find pleasure in urging people to drink against their
will, as is done the first thing on all occasions. The
victim in his distress knits his brows, and watches an
opportunity when no one is looking to spill the liquor or
to steal away. But he is caught, detained, and made to
drink his share as if there was nothing the matter. The
nicest fellows suddenly become madmen, and give way
to absurd conduct. The healthiest men, before our
very eyes, become afflicted with grave illness, and lay
themselves down unconscious of past and future. A
sorry way indeed of celebrating a festal occasion !
Until the morrow they remain lying in a drunken state.
192 JAPANESE LITERATURE
with aching heads, and unable to eat, as if far remove^
from Hfe, taking no thought for the next day, and too
to attend to important business, pubHc or private.
" It is not kindly or even courteous to treat peopl
in this v^ay. If we were told that such a custom existe
in some foreign country (being unknown in Japan) w
should think it most strange and unaccountable."
Here follows a description of a drunken debauch whic
is somewhat too graphic for transference to these pages
Kenko goes on to say —
" In this world strong drink has much to answer for,
It wastes our means and destroys our health. It has been
called the chief of the hundred medicines, but in truth
is from strong drink more than aught else that all our
diseases spring. It may help us to forget our miseries
but, on the other hand, the drunken man is often seen
to weep at the remembrance of his past woes.
^^ As for the future world, strong drink is pernicious tc
the understanding, and burns up the root of good within
us as with fire. It fosters evil, and leads to our breaking
all the commandments and falling into hell. Buddha
has declared that he who makes a man drink wine shall
be born a hundred times with no hands."
It must not be supposed from this that Kenko was a
total abstainer, as he ought to have been if he kept his
vows as a Buddhist monk. On the contrary —
" There are times when wine cannot be dispensed with.
On a moonlight night, on a snowy morning, or when the
flowers are in blossom and with hearts free from care we
are conversing with a friend, it adds to our pleasures if
the wine-cup is produced."
Kenko goes so far as to allow that with intimate friends
it is permissible occasionally to drink deeply.
TZURE-DZURE-GUSA 193
" There is no greater pleasure than alone, by the light
of a lamp, to open a book and make the men of the
unseen world our companions."
^^ Nothing opens one's eyes so much as travel, no
matter where."
'^ I love to shut myself up in a mountain temple and
attend to the services to Buddha. Here there is no
tedium, and one feels that his heart is being purged of
its impurities."
The Seasons — Spring
*^ It is change that in all things touches us with sym-
pathy. Every one says, and not without some reason,
that it is chiefly the autumn which inspires this feeling.
But it appears to me that the aspects of nature in spring,
more than at any other time, make our hearts swell with
emotion. The songs of birds are especially suggestive of
this season. With the increasing warmth the herbage
in the hedge comes into bud, and as the spring grows
deeper the hazes are diffused abroad and the flowers
show themselves in all their glory. Sometimes with
continual storms of wind and rain they are dispersed
agitatedly, and nothing but green leaves is left. All this
affects our hearts with constant trepidation.
" The flowering orange has a great fame. But it is the
perfume of the plum-tree which makes us think longingly
of the past. Then there are the gaily-coloured kerria
and the wistaria of obscurer hues. All these have many
feelings associated with them which it is impossible to
leave unmarked."
^' In our hours of quiet thought, who is there who has
no yearnings for all that has passed away ?
194 JAPANESE LITERATURE
'^ When every one has retired to rest, to while away th
long hours of night we put in order our little odds an
ends of property. Among scraps of paper thrown awa
as not worth preserving, a handwriting or a sketc
thrown off for amusement by one who is no mon
catches the eye and brings up vividly the time when
was made. It is affecting too, after years have passed, t
find a letter even from one who is still alive, and to thin
that it was written at such a date, on such an occasion
"The articles their hands were familiar with remai
unchanged {they have no hearts ! ) for all the long year
that have elapsed. Alas ! alas ! "
''The man who writes a bad hand should not b
deterred by that circumstance from scribbling letter
Otherwise he gets his friends to write for him, which is
nuisance."
" He is a fool who spends his life in the pursuit of fam
or gain."
"The venerable priest Hozen, being asked by a ma
whose drowsiness at prayers interfered with his religiou
duties, how he should remove this hindrance to devo
tion, replied, ' Pray earnestly enough to keep yourse
awake.' This was an admirable answer.
" The same priest said, ' If you think your salvation i
assured, it is assured ; if you think it is not assured, it i
not assured.' This is also an admirable saying.
"Another admirable speech of his was to this effect
' If, notwithstanding that you are perplexed by doubt
you continue your prayers, you will be saved.' "
Kenka with some friends once attended a race-meeting
not, one would think, a fit place for a Buddhist recluse t
be seen. A crowd got between their carriage and th
course, shutting out their view.
I
TZURE-DZURE-GUSA 195
" We all got down and tried to push our way forward
to the rails, but the press was too great for us to get
passage. At this juncture we observed a priest who had
climbed up a tree and seated himself in a fork to see
better. Being drowsy, he was continually dozing over,
and awaking just in time to save himself from falling.
Everybody shouted and jeered at him. 'What a fool,'
cried they, 'this fellow is to let himself fall asleep so
calmly in such a dangerous position ! ' Upon this a
thought flashed on me, and I exclaimed, ' Yet here are
we, spending our time in sight-seeing, forgetful that
death may overtake us at any moment. We are bigger
fools even than that priest.' The people in front of us
all looked round and said, ' Nothing can be more true.
It is indeed utter folly. Come this way, gentlemen.' So
they opened a passage and allowed us to come forward.
Now this remark of mine might have occurred to any-
body. I suppose it was the unexpectedness of it at this
time which caused it to make an impression. Men are
not sticks or stones, and a word spoken at a favourable
moment sometimes finds its way to the heart."
A commentator says that " this chapter is intended to
impress us with the uncertainty of human things." The
reader may draw his own moral.
'' Beware of putting off the practice of religion until
your old age. The ancient tombs are mostly those of
young people."
" When we hear a man's name we try to form to our-
selves some idea of his appearance, but we invariably
find, on afterwards making his acquaintance, that we
have been quite wrong."
"I wonder if it is only I who have sometimes the feeling
that speeches which I have heard or sights that I have
196 JAPANESE LITERATURE
seen were already seen or heard by me at some past
time — when, I cannot tell."
"Things which are in Bad Taste
Too much furniture in one's living room.
Too many pens in a stand.
Too many Buddhas in a private shrine.
Too many rocks, trees, and herbs in a garden.
Too many children in a house.
Too many words when men meet.
Too many books in a book-case there can never be,
nor too much litter in a dust-heap."
" It is not only when we look at the moon or flowers
with our eyes that they give us pleasure. On a spring
day, though we do not leave our house ; on a moonlight
night, though we remain in our chamber, the mere
thought of them is exceedingly cheering and delightful."
If Wordsworth had been a Japanese scholar, he might
have been charged with plagiarising from this passage
his
" inward eye
That is the bliss of solitude?''
CHAPTER III
POETRY— THE NO OR LYRICAL DRAMA—
KIOGEN OR FARCE
The manufacture^^of Tanka at the court of the Mikado
proceeded, as usual, during these periods of Japanese
history. They were duly collected into anthologies
from time to time ; but as they present no features
specially worthy of notice, and as they are admit-
tedly much inferior in merit to the verse of earher
times, it is needless to dwell upon them here. A far
greater interest belongs to a new development of the
poetic art which now demands our attention, namely,
the No or lyrical drama.
Like the ancient Greek tragedies and the mystery
plays of the Middle Ages, the drama in Japan was in
its beginnings closely associated with religion. Its im-
mediate parent was the Kagura, a pantomimic dance,
which is performed at this day to the sound of fife
and drum at Shinto festivals, on a platform provided
for the purpose. The antiquity of the Kagura may be
inferred from the fact that when the Kojiki{kX>, 712) and
the Nihongi (a.d. 720) were written, there was already
a myth current which was intended as an explanation
of its origin. The Sun Goddess, it is related, disgusted
at the unseemly pranks of her brother Susa-no-wo,
shut herself up in the rock-cave of heaven and left
197
1 98 JAPANESE LITERATURE
the world to darkness. Upon this the gods assembled
in their myriads in the dry bed of the River of Heaven
(the Milky Way), and among other expedients which
they devised for luring her out of her retirement they
caused Ame-no-Uzume (the Terrible Female of heaven)
to array herself in a fantastical manner, and standing on
an inverted tub, which gave out a hollow sound when
she stamped on it, to perform a mimic dance which had
the desired effect.
The same works give elsewhere a story which was
meant to supply an explanation of another pantomime
which was performed in the Mikado's palace by the
Hayato or guards.
It runs as follows : — There were two brother deities,
the elder of whom, Ho-no-Susori, was a hunter, and
the younger, Hiko Hohodemi, a fisherman. The two
brothers having quarrelled, the younger used against
his brother a talisman given him by his father-in-law,
the God of the Sea, by virtue of which the tide rose
and submerged Ho-no-Susori. The latter then begged
for pardon, and promised to be his brother's bonds-
man and mime to all generations ; whereupon, by the
power of another talisman, the tide retired and his life
was spared. The younger brother was the ancestor of
the Mikados, and the elder of the Hayato, who in
memory of this were accustomed to perform a dance,
in which the drowning struggles of Ho-no-Susori were
imitated. The actors were naked to the waist-cloth,
and smeared their hands and faces with red earth ;
reminding us of the wine -lees of Thespis and his
crew.
There is frequent mention in subsequent Japanese
history of pantomime performances, some of which
NO 199
were secular, and others of a more or less sacred
character.
When the dance and music of the Kagura were
supplemented by a spoken dialogue, the No were the
result. The addition of words is said to have been
suggested by the chanted recitations of the Heike
Monogatari by itinerant bonzes, and there is much in
the language of the No to countenance this supposition.
It is certain that the authors were well acquainted with
it, and also with the Gempei Seisuiki and the Taiheiki,
The beginnings of the No date from the fourteenth
century. They were at first purely religious perform-
ances, intended to propitiate the chief deities of the
Shinto religion, and were acted exclusively in connection
with their shrines. At Ise, the principal seat of the wor-
ship of the Sun Goddess, there were three No theatres,
in Omi three, in Tamba three, and at Nara four, all
devoted to the service of the respective Shinto gods
worshipped in these places.
In the early part of the Muromachi period a manager
of one of the No theatres at Nara, named Kwan-ami
Kiyotsugu, attracted the notice of the ruling Shogun,
who, for the sake of his art, took him into his im-
mediate service. It is a noteworthy circumstance, as
indicating the social position of the No performers,
that this Kwan-ami was a small daimio, holding a fief
in the province of Yamato. He died in 1406. From
this time forward the No were under the special
patronage of the Shoguns, just as the Tanka found
favour and official protection at the court of the
Mikado. Kiyotsugu was succeeded by his eldest son
Motokiyo, who died in 1455, in his eighty-first year.
Their descendants enjoyed the favour of the Shoguns
200 JAPANESE LITERATURE
for a long period. Hideyoshi, who was Shogun in
but namC; was very fond of the No, and is said td
have taken part in them as an actor. Several of the
more recent date from his time. In the Yedo period
the Shoguns gave great attention to No performances.
They were made a ceremony of state, and were acted
by young gentlemen of the military class educated
specially for this profession. Even at the present day
there are some remains of their former popularity
with the Samurai. Representations are still given in
Tokio, Ki5to, and other places, by the descendants or
successors of the old managers who founded the art
five hundred years ago, and are attended by small but
select audiences composed almost entirely of ex-Daimios
or military nobles and their ex-retainers. To the vulgar
the No are completely unintelligible.
Of the two hundred and thirty-five No contained in thej
latest and most complete collection (the Yo-kyoku Tsuge),
no fewer than ninety-three are assigned to Se-ami Moto-
kiyo, the second of the line of official managers ; his
father, Kwan-ami Kiyotsugu, being credited with fifteen.
Motokiyo's son-in-law and successor has twenty-two
assigned to him, those of the remainder which are not
anonymous being distributed among a dozen or so of
the subsequent holders of the office. The great majority
belong to the fifteenth century.
The Yo-kyoku Tsuge editor suggests, with great proba-
bility, that although the names of Kiyotsugu, Motokiyo,
and their successors are given as authors of the No, they
were in reality only responsible for the music, the panto-
mimic dance (the *' business," as we might say), and the
general management. He surmises that the libretto was
the work of Buddhist monks, to which class almost all
NO 20 1
the literary men of this period belonged. The question
of authorship is, however, of minor importance, as the
characteristics of the No are rather those of a school of
writers than of individuals.
Whoever their authors may have been, their primary
object was the promotion of piety. In some cases a
patriotic or martial enthusiasm is the inspiring motive,
and a love of nature is discernible in almost all, but the
staple material is the mass of legends associated with the
Buddhist and Shinto religions. A monk or guardian of
a Shinto shrine is most frequently the chief personage
of the play, and the virtue of hospitality to the priestly
order, the sin of taking away life, the praise of particular
deities, the uncertainty of life, and the transitoriness of
human things are favourite themes with them.
In the No, next after religion comes poetry. Not that
they are exactly poems. Purely lyrical passages are not
wanting, but much, both from the point of view of metre
and of diction, is undeniable prose. Not a little is in an
intermediate style, in which the seven and five syllable
phrases succeed one another with great irregularity, and
the language is alloyed with a less poetic element. The
admission of Chinese words, although in moderation,
also tends to lower the poetic level. It will be remem-
bered that these are rigorously excluded from the older
classical poetry.
A very striking feature of the No is the lavish use which
they make of the poetic devices mentioned in a previous
chapter.^ Pillow-words are freely introduced, and paral-
lelism is a common ornament. But the greatest favourite
of all is the ^' pivot-word," which is employed in the No
to an extent and in a manner previously unknown to
1 See above, p. 32.
202 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Japanese literature. This must be my excuse for dwell
ing on it at somewhat greater length here. ^'The Pivot
(I quote from Mr. Chamberlain's Classical Poetry of thk
Japanese) ^^ is a word of two significations, which serves
as a species of hinge on which two doors turn, so that
while the first part of the poetical phrase has no logical
end, the latter part has no logical beginning. They run
into each other, and the sentence could not possibly be
construed." Mr. Chamberlain adds that " to the Englisl;
reader such a punning invention will doubtless seem the
height of misapplied ingenuity. But, as a matter of fact
the impression produced by these linked verses is delight
ful in the extreme, passing as they do before the readei
like a series of dissolving views, vague, graceful, and sug
gestive. This ornament especially characterises the olc
poetic dramas, and renders them a peculiarly arduouj
study to such as do not thoroughly appreciate its nature.'
Native critics would no doubt endorse Mr. Chamber
Iain's favourable opinion of the pivot-word, and it ii
undeniable that the Japanese, who are an eminentl
nimble-witted race, delight in these acrobatic feats o
language. But the English student will ask whether i
is worth while to sacrifice sense and syntax for the sak<
of such inane, if sometimes pretty, antics. I venture t(
think that the " pivot " is a mistake in serious com
position, and that the partiality for such a frivolou!
ornament of style manifested not only by the writen
of No, but by the dramatists and novelists of the Yedc
period, is a characteristic sign of an age of literary deca
dence and bad taste. Such writers as Hakuseki, Kiuso
and Motoori disdain it utterly.
The authors of the No do not pique themselves oi
originality. They are in the habit of conveying to thei]
NO 203
own pages in the most liberal manner snatches of Tanka,
texts of Buddhist scripture, or striking phrases supplied
by their memory from older writers, stringing them to-
gether, however, in a way which does much credit to
their ingenuity. Plagiarism, it may be remarked, is
hardly recognised as an offence by the Japanese.
The No are not classical poems. They are too de-
ficient in lucidity, method, coherence, and good taste to
deserve this description. Still they are not without charm.
Jeux-dc-mots are not everything in them, and the reader
who has the patience to unravel their intricacies of
language will not go altogether unrewarded. If their
vein of poetic ore is less pure than that of the Manyoshiu
and Kokinshiu, it is also richer. They embrace within
their scope a world of legendary lore, of quaint fancies,
and of religious sentiment, to which the classical poetry
of Japan is a stranger. And if we miss the perfection of
form which characterises the dainty little Tanka, we have
instead a luxuriance and variety which go some way to
indemnify us for its absence. It is to be regretted that
so promising a literary departure should have proved
ultimately abortive. After the sixteenth century the No
ceased to be written. The current of the higher Japanese
thought had by this time turned away from Buddhism
and everything that belongs to it, and was setting strongly
towards Chinese philosophy. Though the No were still
performed, the impulse to write new ones was apparently
no longer felt.
As dramas the No have little value. There is no action
to speak of, and dramatic propriety and effect are hardly
thought of. The plot is frequently something of the
following description : —
A priest appears on the scene. He announces his
204 JAPANESE LITERATURE
«
name, and informs the audience that he is setting out o
his travels. Presently he arrives at a temple, a batth
field, or other celebrated spot, when a ghost or deit
appears, who relates to him the local legend. An ex
change of edifying sentiments follows, and the supe<
natural personage finally reveals his identity.
The whole piece rarely occupies more than six or sevej
pages of print, and it usually takes less than an hour t
perform. Within this narrow compass it might be ej
pected that the unities of time, place, and action woul
have been observed. This is far from being the case
The action, in so far as there is any, is generally mor
or less coherent, but the other unities are wholly disre
garded. In the Takasago^ for example, the scene change
from Kiushiu to Harima, and again from Harima to
Sumiyoshi, within seven pages, while weeks must be
allowed for the journeys of the chief personage between
these places.
The number of the dramatis personce varies from twi
or three (the latter being very frequent) up to five or sij
To these must be added a few musicians and the chorus
The chorus of the No has various functions. The chie
office is to chant a narrative which serves to supplemer^
and explain the action of the piece, as in some of Shak<
speare's older plays, or to recite poetical description
which supply the place of the absent scenery. Th(
chorus also indulges from time to time in sententious o
sympathetic observations, or even enters into convers*
tion with the personages on the stage.
The following description of the No theatre will helj
us to realise their character more fully. It is taken fron
Mr. Chamberlain's Classical Poetry of the Japanese : —
*^The stage, which has remained unaltered in everj
NO 205
respect since the beginning of the fifteenth century, is a
square wooden room open on all sides but one, and
supported on pillars, the side of the square being about
eighteen English feet. It is surmounted by a quaint
roof somewhat resembling those to be seen on Buddhist
temples, and is connected with the green-room by a
gallery some nine feet wide. Upon this gallery part of the
action occasionally takes place. Added on to the back
of the square stage is a narrow space where sits the
orchestra, consisting of one flute-player, two performers
on instruments, which, in the absence of a more fitting
name, may perhaps be called tambourines, and one beater
of the drum, while the chorus, whose number is not fixed,
squat on the ground to the right of the spectator. The
back of the stage, the only side not open to the air, is
painted with a pine-tree, in accordance with ancient
usage, while, equally in conformity with established rules,
three small pine-trees are planted in the court which
divides the gallery from the space occupied by the less
distinguished portion of the audience. The covered place
for the audience runs round three sides of the stage.^
Masks are worn by such of the actors as take the parts of
females or of supernatural beings, and the dresses are
gorgeous in the extreme. Scenery, however, is allowed
no place on the lyric stage."
It will readily be understood that the difficulty of arriv-
ing at the meaning of such compositions as the No is
very considerable. Mr. Mitford, no mean scholar, in his
Tales of Old Japan pronounces them ^* wholly unin-
telligible " ; though this statement must be taken with
1 From which it is separated by a space corresponding to our pit, only open
to the air. —W. G. A.
2o6 JAPANESE LITERATURE
some qualification, as he gives in the same work a luc
account of the plot of several of them. But even whe
he has mastered their sense, the translator's difficulties
are only beginning. I know of nothing in literature foi
which it is more impossible to give an adequate Englisl-
equivalent than the intricate network of word-play:
quotations, and historical, literary, and scriptural allusio
of which they consist. Mr. Chamberlain, who has do
some of them into English verse, confesses that h
rendering is only a paraphrase. Prose or a rough an
ready blank verse has been preferred for the parti;
translation of the Takasago, which is given below. Bi
even when freed from the temptation to introduce es
traneous matter which is hardly separable from a poeticj
version, it is not possible to render the original as faitt
fully as might be desired. I have tried, however, whi
omitting a certain untranslatable element, at any rate
bring in nothing of my own.
'^ Takasago "
This is one of the pieces attributed to Motokiyo, whl
died in 1455, but, as already suggested, he was probablj
only the director or manager of the theatre where it wa
produced. It is the best known, and is considered th
finest of all the No. Its popularity was testified to n
longer ago than last year (1897) by the launching, from th
yard of Messrs. Armstrong & Co. at Newcastle, of a cruise
for the Japanese navy bearing the name of Takasago.
DRAMATIS PERSONS.
ToMONARi . . . Guardian of the Shinto shrine of Aso, in ICiushtti
An Old Man . . Really the spirit of the Sumiyoshi fir-tree.
An Old Woman . . Really the spirit of the Takasago fir-tree.
The God of Sumiyoshl
Chorus.
TAKASAGO 207
Chorus (?) ^ {chants in nearly regular metre).
Now for the first time he ties the lace of his travelling
garb:
His goal is distant many a long day's journey.
ToMONARi {speaks in prose). Now, this is I, Tomonari, guardian
of the shrine of Aso, in the province of Higo, in Kiushiu.
Never having seen the capital, I have now made up my mind,
and am going up to the capital. Moreover, I wish to take this
opportunity of viewing the bay of Takasago, in Harima.
Chorus (?) {chants in regular fnetre). To-day he has made up his
mind, and has donned his travelling raiment for a journey to a
distant goal — the capital. With waves that rise along the shore,
and a genial wind of spring upon the ship-path, how many
days pass without a trace of him we know not, until at length
he has reached the longed-for bay of Takasago, on the coast of
Harima.
Old Man and Old Woman {chant). The wind of spring that
blows through the fir-tree of Takasago has gone down with the sun ;
the vesper bell is heard from the Temple of Onoye.
Old Woman. The waves are hidden from us by the mist-
enshrouded rocks.
Both. There is naught but the sound to mark the rise and fall
of the tide.
Old Man. Whom can I take to be my friend? Except the
fir-tree of Takasago, my ancient comrade, there is none to con-
verse with me of the bygone days on which are ever gathering
white snows [of forgetfulness]. I grow older and older, accus-
tomed to hear nothing but the wind in the fir-tree either when I
rise or go to sleep in my nest of an aged crane, where the night-
long moon sheds its rays, and the spring sends down its hoar-
frosts. So I make my own heart my companion, and thus give
utterance to my thoughts.
Both. Let us sweep away the fir-needles that lie beneath the
^ The distribution of the speeches is sometimes doubtful. I have made one
or two changes.
2o8 JAPANESE LITERATURE
tree, sleeve touching sleeve of our garments, whereon rest fallei,
leaves shaken down by the shore-wind asking their news of the firs]
ToMONARi {spoken). While waiting for some of the villagers t
appear, an old man and an old woman have come hither. I pra;
you, old people, permit me to ask you a question.
Old Man. It is I whom you address ? What is it you desire
to know ?
ToMONARi. Which is the tree that is called the fir-tree of
Takasago ?
Old Man. This very tree whose shade we are cleansing is the
fir-tree of Takasago.
ToMONARL The phrase " growing old together " is used of the
Takasago and Suminoye fir-trees. But this place and Sumiyoshi
[the same as Suminoye] are in provinces distant from one another
How then can they be called the fir-trees which "grow old
together " ?
Old Man. As you have deigned to observe, it is stated in the
preface to the Kokinshiu ^ that the fir-trees of Takasago and Sumi-
noye make us feel as if they were growing old together. However
that may be, here am I, an old man, who belong to Sumiyoshi, m
the province of Settsu, while the old woman here is of this place.
Be pleased to tell me, if you can, how that may be.
ToMONARi {in verse). Strange ! I see you old couple here to-
gether. What mean you then by saying that you dwell apart, one
in distant Suminoye, the other in Takasago, divided from one
another by seashore, hill, and province ?
Old Woman {in verse). What an odd speech ! Though many
a mile of mountain and river separate them, the way of a husband
and wife whose hearts respond to one another with mutual care,
is not far apart.
Old Woman. There is Suminoye.
Old Man. And here is Takasago.
ToMONARL The fir-trees blend their hues.
^ See above, p. 66.
TAKASAGO 209
Old Man. And the spring air-
ToMONARi. Is genial, while
{Here the chorus strikes in with a canticle which is chanted as
the iiidispensable accoj?ipafiiment of every regular Japanese weddings
and is one of the best known passages ifi Japanese literature.
Figures representing the two old folks under the fir-tree with
brooms in their hands are, on such occasions, set out on a sort
of tray. This is a favourite subject of the Japanese artist.)
Chorus. On the four seas
Still are the waves ;
The world is at peace :
Soft blow the time-winds,^
Rustling not the branches.
In such an age
Blest are the very firs,
In that they meet
To grow old together.
Vain indeed
Are reverent upward looks ;
Vain even are words to tell
Our thanks that we were born
In such an age,
Rich with the bounty
Of our sovereign lord.
•O"
Old Man. I hear the sound of the bell of Onoye, in Taka-
sago.
Chorus. The dawn is near,
And the hoar-frost falls
On the fir-tree twigs ;
But its leaves' dark green
Suffer no change.
Morning and evening
Beneath its shade
^ The land and sea breezes, which blow regularly only in fine weather.
O
2IO JAPANESE LITERATURE
The leaves are swept away,
Yet they never fail.
True it is
That these fir-trees
Shed not all their leaves ;
Their verdure remains fresh
For ages long,
As the Masaka traihng vine ;
Even amongst evergreen trees —
The emblem of unchangeableness —
Exalted is their fame
As a symbol to the end of time —
The fame of the fir-trees that have grown old together
ToMONARi. And ye who have made known the bygone stor]
of these ancient firs whose branches have indeed earned fame-
tell me, I pray you, by what names are ye called.
Old Man and Old Woman. Why conceal it longer ? We au
the spirits of the fir-trees of Takasago and Suminoye that hav<
grown old together, manifested under the form of a married pair.
Chorus. Wonderful ! A miracle wrought by the fir-trees o
this famous place !
Old Man and Old Woman. Plants and trees are withou
souls
Chorus. Yet in this august reign
Old Man and Old Woman. Even for plants and trees-
Chorus. Good is it to live
For ever and ever
In this land
Of our great sovereign.
Under his rule.
To Sumiyoshi,! therefore.
He would now take his way
And there wait upon [the god].
He embarks in a fisher's boat
That lies by the beach,
^ Sumiyoshi means "dwell-good."
TAKASAGO 211
Where the waves of evening roll,
And spreading his sail
To the favouring breeze,
Puts out into the deep,
Puts out into the deep.
ToMONARi. From Takasago I set sail
In this skiff that lies by the shore,
And put forth with the tide
That goes out with the moon.
I pass under the lee
Of Awaji's shore,
I leave far behind me Naruwo,
And now I have arrived
At Suminoye.
{The god of Stwiiyoshi^ appears, and enters into a poetical dialogue
7V it/i the chorus. )
Chorus. We give thanks for this manifestation ;
Ever anew we will worship
Thy spirit with sacred dance
By Sumiyoshi's pure moonlight.
Chorus. And now, world without end,
The extended arms of the dancing maidens
In sacerdotal robes
Will expel noxious influences ;
Their hands folded to rest in their bosoms
Will embrace all good fortune ;
The hymn of a thousand autumns
Will draw down blessings on the people,
And the song of ten thousand years ^
Prolong our sovereign's life.
And all the while,
^ There are in reality three gods. Doubtless only one appears on the
stage.
- Equivalent to our *' God save the Queen."
212 JAPANESE LITERATURE
The voice of the breeze,
As it blows through the firs
That grow old together, |
Will yield us delight.
Some of the No have more of dramatic action than th(
Takasago. NakamitsUy a piece translated by Mr. Cham^
berlain, is one of these. Another example is the Tosen
of which the following is a resume : —
An inhabitant of Hakosaki, in Kiushiu, informs th(
audience that under an embargo placed by the Japanese
Government on Chinese ships thirteen years before, hi
had detained a vessel from that country, and made th(
owner his cow-herd.
The Chinaman's two sons come to ransom their fathel
His master gives him leave to go, but just when they an
about to sail, two sons born to him in Japan appear an(
propose to accompany him. Their request is refused b;
the master, and the father, distracted between his wish t
return home with his Chinese family, and his reluctanc
to leave his Japanese children behind, tries to drow
himself. Much appropriate sentiment ensues, whic
touches the heart of the master, so that he allows all fiv
to depart together.
In Dojdji a priest appears, and informs the audieno
that he is about to consecrate a new bell for his tempi
the former one having been long ago removed. He the;
directs his acolyte to make the necessary preparation
enjoining on him specially to take care that no woma:
shall be present at the ceremony.
A dancing-girl approaches, and proposes to dance in
honour of the occasion. The acolyte forgets his instruc-
tions, and allows her to do so. She takes the opportunity
of seizing the bell by the suspending ring, and bringing
KIOGEN 213
it down over her, greatly to the consternation of the priest.
He calls together his fellows and relates a legend which
explains why women were not allowed to be present : —
"A man had an only daughter, who formed a union
with a Yamabushi [a sort of lay-priest]. When pressed
to marry her, he ran away and hid in the bell of the
temple. She pursued him, and came to a river which
she could not cross. But the fire of her passion was so
intense that it changed her into a serpent, in which form
she found no difficulty in swimming over. Coming
to the temple, the serpent coiled itself round the bell,
which was melted by the heat of her passion, the false
lover perishing at the same time."
The priest, having told this legend, joins with his col-
leagues in reciting with might and main all kinds of
Buddhist prayers and invocations, by which the bell is
raised to its former position, and the dancing-girl forced
to reveal herself in her serpent shape. Involved in flames,
she plunges into the adjoining river and disappears.
Exeunt omnes.
The Kiogen (mad-words) are to the No what farce is
to the regular drama. They are performed on the same
stage in the intervals between the more serious pieces.
They differ from the No in having no chorus, and in
being composed in the pure colloquial dialect of the time.
They are even shorter, and of the slightest construction.
The following is an example : —
^' A Daimio sends his servant to the city to buy a talis-
man which will work miracles. The servant meets with
a swindler, who sells him an object which he calls the
Mallet of Daikoku (every blow of which is supposed to
produce a piece of gold), teUing him a charm by repeat-
2 14 JAPANESE LITERATURE
\
ing which, as he holds the mallet, he can have anything
he pleases. The servant returns with his prize. Th(
Daimio asks him to produce a horse. The servant repeat
his charm, and declares that the horse is ready saddlec
and bridled. The Daimio pretends to think his servan
the horse, jumps on his back, and rides him about th^
stage in spite of his protestations."
Fifty of the Kiogen have been published under th
title Kiogen Kiy and there is before me a manuscrip
collection which contains one hundred and fifty of thes
pieces.
BOOK THE SIXTH
YEDO PERIOD (1603-1867)
BOOK THE SIXTH
YEDO PERIOD (1603-1867)
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY—" TAIKOKI "
The student of Japanese history, in any of its branches,
should note well the two dates which stand at the head
of this chapter. They mark the beginning and end of
that wonderful political organisation known as the Toku-
gawa Shogunate. The first is the date of the establish-
ment of his capital at Yedo by Tokugawa lyeyasu, and
the second that of the abolition of the office of Shogun,
and the resumption of sovereign authority by the Mikado
after many centuries of abeyance. During this period a
great wave of Chinese influence passed over the country,
deeply affecting it in every conceivable way. Not only
the constitution of the Government, but the laws, art,
science, material civilisation, and, most of all, the thought
of the nation as expressed in its philosophy and literature,
bear profound traces of Chinese teaching and example.
This wave has not wholly subsided even now, but it has
ceased to be of importance, except, perhaps, in deter-
mining the moral standards of the nation, and 1867 is a
I
2i8 JAPANESE LITERATURE
convenient date from which to reckon the substitution
of Europe for China as the source whence the Japanese
draw inspiration in all these matters.
The latter half of the Muromachi period, coinciding
with the second half of the sixteenth century, was a very
disturbed time in Japan. The local nobles or Daimios,
defying all control by the central government, engaged
in continual struggles with one another for lands and^
power, and a lamentable condition of anarchy was the
result. The first to apply a remedy to this state of
things was one of their own order, Nobunaga, a man of
resolute character and great military capacity. Aided by
his two famous lieutenants, Hideyoshi and lyeyasu, he
succeeded in bringing most of the Daimios into subjection
and even deposed the Shogun, although he was prevente
by his descent from assuming that title himself. At hi
death in 1582, the reins of power passed into the hand
of Hideyoshi, who completed the work which Nobunag;
had begun. Under the titles of Kwambaku (Regent) o
Taiko, he was practically monarch of Japan, until his
death in 1598. Then lyeyasu, after a sharp struggle,
which ended in 1600 by the defeat of his opponents
in the decisive battle of Sekigahara, succeeded to thQ
supreme authority, and caused himself to be appointed
Shogun by the puppet Mikado of the day. He was the
founder of the Tokugawa (his family name) dynasty of
Shoguns, which lasted until our own time.
lyeyasu was probably the greatest statesman that Japan
has ever seen. By the organisation of that remarkable
system of feudal government under which the nation
enjoyed peace and prosperity for two and a half cen-
turies, he solved for his day and country the problem,
which will occupy politicians to the end of time, of the
YEDO PERIOD 219
due apportionment of central and local authority. At no
previous period of Japanese history was the power of the
Central Government more effectively maintained in all
essential matters, although in other respects the.Daimios
were allowed a large measure of independent action.
Under this regime Japan increased amazingly in wealth
and population, and made great progress in all the arts
of civilisation.
As a consequence, the new capital of Yedo rose rapidly
to importance. Under the regulation, established by lye-
yasu's grandson lyemitsu, which compelled the Daimios
to reside there for part of the year, leaving their wives and
children as hostages during the remainder, its population
attained to at least a million, and is believed to have been
at one time considerably more.
It is not surprising that the enhanced political and
commercial importance of Yedo should have brought
about a displacement of the literary centre of Japan.
Kioto, especially during the early part of the Yedo period,
continued to be a place of some literary activity, and
Osaka became the cradle of a new form of drama, but
Yedo attracted to itself all the principal learning and
talent of the country. For the last two hundred years
Yedo has been to Japan for literature what London is to
the United Kingdom, or Paris to France.
There is another feature of the literature of the Yedo
period which is traceable to the improved condition of
the country. Authors now no longer addressed them-
selves exclusively to a cultured class, but to the people
generally. The higher degree of civilisation which was
rendered possible by an improved administration and
a more settled government included a far more widely
extended system of education than Japan had ever known
220 JAPANESE LITERATURE
before. And not only were the humbler classes better
educated. They were more prosperous in every way, and
were better able to purchase books as well as to read
them. Books, too, were far more easily attainable than
before. Printing, which in Japan dates from the eighth
century, now for the first time became common.^
Hideyoshi's armies, returning from their devastating
raid upon Corea, brought with them a number of books
printed with movable types, which served as models I
for the Japanese printers. lyeyasu was a liberal patron 1
of the printing-press. Since this time the production
of printed books has gone on at an increasing rate, and
they now form an accumulation which is truly formi-
dable in amount.
The popularisation of literature during the Yedo
period worked for evil as well as for good. Many whole-
some moral and religious treatises were brought within
the reach of the nation generally, and knowledge was
greatly extended. But, on the other hand, the average
level of taste and refinement was distinctly lowered, and
notwithstanding the well-meant but spasmodic attempts
of the Government to repress it, a flood of pornographic
fiction not easily to be paralleled elsewhere was poured
out over the country.
For the Buddhist religion the Yedo period was a time
of decadence. Its continued popularity is attested by
the vast number of temples which were erected every-
where, and by the hosts of monks who were maintained
in idleness. But its influence was on the wane. While
Confucianism became the creed of the strong, governing
military caste, Buddhism attached itself to the broken
^ See papers on the "Early History of Printing in Japan," by Sir Ernest
Satow, in \hQ Japan Asiatic Society's Transactions^ vol. x. i, and x. 2.
YEDO PERIOD 221
fortunes of the Mikados and their court. The nation
generally was gradually awaking to a fuller and more
vigorous life, and homilies on the instability of human
things, the vanity of wealth and power, the detestableness
of violence and cruelty, the duty of abstinence from the
grosser pleasures, and the beauty of a Hfe of seclusion
and pious meditation, were no longer so much to their
taste. The moral principles which animated politics and
literature were now drawn from the more robust and
manly, if more worldly, teachings of the Chinese sages.
But of this more remains to be said hereafter.
Towards the end of this period there was a partial
reaction in favour of the old Shinto religion. It proved
to be only an eddy in the main current of the national
thought, and is chiefly important politically as one of the
disintegrating influences which led to the breaking up of
the Tokugawa regime.
Compared with the writings of the Heian or classical
period, the Yedo literature is infinitely more voluminous,
and has a far wider range of subjects. It comprises
history, biography, poetry, the drama, essays, sermons, a
multitude of political and religious treatises, fiction of
various kinds and travels, with a huge mass of biblia
abibliuj such as dictionaries, grammars, and other philo-
logical works, bibliographies, medical works, treatises on
botany, law, the art of war, commentaries on the Chinese
classics (in themselves a host), expositions of Buddhist
doctrine, cyclopaedias, antiquarian and metaphysical
works, guide-books, and so on.
But while the new literature is much richer and of a
more vigorous growth than the old, there is a sad falling
off in point of form. With few exceptions it is disfigured
by the grossest and most glaring faults. Extravagance,
222
JAPANESE LITERATURE
false sentiment; defiance of probability whether physical
or moral, pedantry, pornography, puns and other mere-
tricious ornaments of style, intolerable platitudes, im-
possible adventures, and weary wastes of useless detail
meet us everywhere. There is no want of ability. Plent]
of genuine wit and humour is to be discovered by thos(
who know where to look for it. True pathos is to be
met with in works otherwise highly objectionable ; ex-
cellent moral advice is only too abundant ; there are
graphic descriptions of real life, prodigious fertility of
invention, a style frequently not devoid of elegance, and
generally a far wider range of thought in political and
social matters than the hedonist literature of ancient
Japan could boast. It is the writer *^ totus teres atque
rotundus" whose absence is so conspicuous. Sane
thought, sustained good writing, disciplined imagination
and some sense of order, proportion and consistent
method are sadly to seek in the profusion of written and
printed matter which this period has left to us.
The Japanese language underwent considerable change
at this time. To supply the needs of the new civilisa-
tion a vast increase of the vocabulary became neces-
sary, and Chinese words were adopted so freely that
they now far outnumber those of native origin. As
in English, however, the latter retain their position for
all the essentials of language. At the same time the
simplification of the somewhat cumbrous grammatical
system of the old language made still further progress.
In this period the colloquial speech, which had been
gradually diverging from the written language so far as
at last to necessitate separate grammars for its elucida-
tion, began to show itself in literature. Whether its
partisans will succeed in erecting it into a literary dialect
TAIKOKI 223
remains to be seen. Up to the present their success has
not been very conspicuous. It will require far more
cultivation than has yet been bestowed upon it to make
it equally concise and perspicuous, and to give it the
same range of varied expression, as the ordinary literary
language.
The "Taikoki."
One of the earliest works of the Yedo period is the
Taikoki^ a biography of the Taiko, or Regent Hideyoshi,
in twenty-two books (eleven volumes). Although written
only twenty-seven years after Hideyoshi's death, there
had already been time for his history to acquire a certain
legendary quality. The first chapter exemplifies the pro-
pensity of ignorant mankind for surrounding the birth
of great men with miraculous occurrences. The Taikoki
cannot be given a high place as literature, but it is
valuable for the contemporary documents which it con-
tains, and has supplied material for a number of later
works bearing the same or similar titles. It was written
in 1625 by an unknown author.
CHAPTER II
THE KANGAKUSHA (Chinese Scholars)
Towards the end of the Muromachi period, learning ii
Japan had reached its lowest ebb. Hideyoshi, at th^
height of his power and fame, was an ignorant man, aj
letters written by him remain to testify, and he had grea^
difficulty in finding scholars competent to conduct the
negotiations with China and Corea which arose out of his
invasion of the latter country. He was, however, a friend
of learning. His successor lyeyasu (1603-1632) fully
recognised the necessity of wider knowledge for building
up the new social and political fabric which he created.
His patronage of printing has been already mentioned.
He also established schools, and devoted much attention
to the collection and preservation of printed books and
manuscripts. A special department was provided by
him, where he employed a staff of monks in copying out
the family records of the Daimios.
Among the scholars who enjoyed lyeyasu's patronage
the most eminent was FUJIWARA Seikwa, a native of
Harima, where he was born in 1560. Himself a poet,
he was a descendant of Fujiwara Sadaiye, a well-known
Tanka-writer of the thirteenth century. As a boy he gave
great promise of talent. He received the Buddhist ton-
sure, but soon recognised the emptiness of Buddhism,
SEIKWA 225
and applied himself with great diligence to the study of
the ancient Chinese literature. Finding, however, that
the difficulties caused by the want of competent teachers
and suitable text-books were too great for him to sur-
mount, he made up his mind to go to China and continue
his studies there. He had got as far as the province of
Satsuma, and was waiting for a ship, when one of those
apparently trivial incidents occurred which exercise a
profound influence on the fate of a nation. He over-
heard a boy in the house next to the inn where he was
staying read aloud from a Chinese book which was
unfamiliar to him. Upon inquiry, it proved to be a
commentary by Chu-Hi on the ^^ Great Learning" of
Confucius. A brief examination showed him its im-
portance. Equally delighted and astonished, Seikwa
exclaimed, '^ This is what I have so long been in want
of." Eventually he discovered a complete set of the
philosophical works of Ching Hao (1032-1085), Cheng
I. (1033-1107), and Chu-Hi (1130-1200), the famous
Chinese schoolmen and expositors of the doctrines of
Confucius and Mencius under the Sung dynasty. He
was so strongly impressed by their perusal, that he re-
solved to abandon his intention of proceeding to China,
and to devote himself entirely to their study at home.
Seikwa subsequently made the acquaintance of lyeyasu
at the camp of Nagoya, where Hideyoshi was then pre-
paring his famous invasion of Corea. lyeyasu recognised
his merit, and sent for him repeatedly to expound the
classics ; but Seikwa, taking offence at being confounded
with the rabble of ordinary monks, pretended illness, and
having introduced as his substitute his pupil Hayashi
Rasan, retired to a quiet village near Kioto. Here pupils
flocked to him in great numbers, many of them the sons
226 JAPANESE LITERATURE
of court nobles or Daimios ; and he also received flattei
ing offers of appointments, all of which he declined. Ii
1 614 he was offered a post as teacher in connection witl
a project of lyeyasu's for establishing a school at Kioto
This proposal he accepted, but some civil disorders whicl
broke out soon after rendered this scheme abortive
Seikwa died in 1619 in his fifty-ninth year. He lef
nothing which deserves notice as literature ; but it
hardly possible to estimate too highly the service he peri
formed by making known to his countrymen the philo
sophical literature of the Sung schoolmen. His Kam
Seiri m.ay be mentioned as a typical example of hi
writings. As its title indicates, it is an attempt to facilitate
the study of the Sung philosophy in Japan.
The whole literature of the Yedo period is so thoroughly
pervaded by moral principles and ideals based on thii
system of thought, that it is desirable to give a brief out
line of it here. Those who wish to make themselvei
more thoroughly acquainted with it will find the mean;
of doing so in Monseigneur de Harlez's ^cole Philoso
phiqui de la Chiite, and some able papers contributed b^
Dr. Knox and others to i\\Q Journal of the Asiatic Society
of Japan in 1892.
Professedly an exposition of the doctrines of th<
ancient Chinese sages, the Sung philosophy is in reality
an essentially modern system of ontology, ethics, natura
philosophy, and principles of government, subjects which
to the Chinese mind are inseparable.
According to Chu-Hi, the origin and cause of all thing*
is Taikhi {Taikyoku in Japanese) or the ^^ Great Absolute."
The energy evolved by its movement produced the Yang
{Yd in Japanese), and when it came to rest, the Yin {In
in Japanese) was the result. The Yang is the active,
CHINESE PHILOSOPHY 227
positive, productive, male principle of nature, while the
Yin is regarded as passive or receptive, negative and
female. By the mutual action of these two principles
the Kosmos was formed out of chaos, the Yin manifest-
ing itself in the settling down of the impure sediment as
earth, while the lighter and purer part, representing the
Yang, ascended and formed heaven. The Yin and
Yang are also the source of the five elements, water, fire,
earth, metal, and wood. Each of these has its proper
function, on the right discharge of which depend the
regular sequence of the four seasons and phenomena
generally. These processes go on eternally. There is
no such thing as a creation in this system. The energy
which produces all these results is called in Chinese Ke, ^-t
in Japanese Ki (Breath). It follows fixed laws called
Li {Ri in Japanese). The precise nature of these two
last conceptions has been elucidated (or obscured) by
many volumes of dissertations both in China and Japan.
Chu-Hi says little of Ten (Heaven). In his philosophy "^
its place is taken by the more impersonal Taikhi, But
in Japan, as with Confucius and Mencius, Ten is all-
important. It is the nearest approach to a deity which
the essentially impersonal habit of mind of these nations
permits. Ten or Tendo (the Way of Heaven) is said ^ ii^F
*^ to know," " to command," " to reward," ^^ to punish," or
" to be wroth," and is looked up to with reverence and
grateful emotion. But the conception falls short of that
of a personal- deity as we understand the phrase. There
are in Japan, at any rate, no temples to Ten, no litanies,
and no formal acts of worship.
Ethics are in the Chu-Hi system a branch of natural
philosophy. Corresponding to the regular changes of
the seasons in nature is right action in man (who is the
I
i
228 JAPANESE LITERATURE
crown of nature) in the relations of sovereign and su
ject, parent and child, elder brother and younger brothe
husband and wife, friend and friend. To his sovereig:
or lord he is bound to be faithful, to his parents dutifulj
and to his elder brother respectful. Affection should
characterise the relations of husband and wife, and trust
that of friend with friend. A man should also display i
his conduct the five virtues of Goodness, Righteousnes
Propriety, Enlightenment, and Good Faith. The sami
combination of ethics and natural science is implied i
Confucius's doctrine when he says that the command of
Heaven is called natural disposition, accordance witB
this natural disposition is called the path (of duty), the
regulation of this path is called instruction. Man's hea
is naturally good. In like manner Kiuso, a ]apane&
exponent of the Chu-Hi philosophy, says, ^^ Man makes
the heart of heaven and earth [nature, we would say
his own."
Principles of government are also found a place in thi
philosophy. If the sovereign practises the virtues abov
described in his own person, the people will naturall
imitate his example, and good government will be th
result. But the necessity of dealing out justly reward
and punishments, of encouraging sages to lead the people
in the right way, and of purity in making appointments,
is not lost sight of.
The Japanese have added little or nothing to Chu-Hi's
philosophy. It is in its application that the national
genius reveals itself, and more especially in the relative
importance attached by them to the various moral obliga-
tions incumbent on man.
It is here that we must look for an answer to a question
which will occur to all who take the smallest interest in
ETHICS OF YEDO PERIOD 229
the Japanese, namely ** In what respect does their national
character differ from that of European nations ? "
The vices and virtues are on the whole the same with
them as with ourselves. It is in their " Table of Moral
Precedence/' as it were, that we discover some striking
differences. The most noteworthy instance of this is the
commanding position assigned to loyalty, which in the
moral ideas of this period overshadows and dwarfs all
other obligations. It means not so much the reverent
submission due by all his subjects to the Mikado, although
in theory this was not lost sight of, as of the Daimios to
the Shogun, and, in a still higher degree, of men of the
two-sworded class to their immediate chiefs. Implicit
obedience and unfaltering devotion to his feudal lord was
the Samurai's most sacred duty. For his lord's sake the
retainer was bound not only to lay down his own life
cheerfully, but to sacrifice the lives and honour of those
nearest and dearest to him. Japanese history and litera-
ture teem with instances which show the extreme lengths
to which this virtue was carried, not only in theory, but
in practice. It was responsible for many acts of barbarity,
such as that of Nakamitsu, a favourite hero of Japanese
drama and story, who slew his own innocent son, and
substituted his head for that of his lord's heir, who had
been guilty of a capital offence. But there was also
associated with it unshrinking courage, loyal service, and
disinterested self-sacrifice to a degree for which we must
go to ancient Rome to find a parallel. The political
system of which this virtue was the vital support is now
a thing of the past. Daimios and Shoguns exist no
longer. But those who know the Japan of the present
day will readily recognise the same quality in the spirit
of national patriotism and zeal in the discharge of public
230 JAPANESE LITERATURE *
duty which honourably distinguish the descendants
the former Samurai.
Next after loyalty in the Japanese scale of virtues stan
filial piety. The State being composed of families,
the family is badly managed, the State cannot be we:
governed. If the child is disobedient to his parents, h
is not likely to prove a loyal and obedient subject whe;
he grows to manhood. Hence the necessity, from
political point of view, of filial piety. On the extrem
importance attached to this virtue both in China an
Japan it is needless to dilate.
Among the chief duties of a Samurai to his lord, or c
a child towards his parent, was that of revenge. Th
forgiveness of injuries had no place in the moral cod
of the Japanese of this time. No more stern obligatio
rested on them than to execute dire vengeance for th
unmerited death or disgrace of a parent or lord. Tha
this was not in theory only, there are many well-authenti
cated instances in real life to show. It applied to wome;
as well as to men, though in their case, as in that of th
lower classes of society, it was regarded more or less a
a counsel of perfection. If they did rise to the occasion
all the more honour was paid them. The drama an
fiction of modern Japan are full of stories of reveng
(kataki-uchi)f and this passion occupies the same plac
of honour with their novelists that love does in Europea
fiction.
In presence of the obligations imposed by loyalty and
filial duty, life was regarded as of no account. When
we remember the humane Buddhist influences to which
Japan was so long subjected, and the ancient national
character reflected in the mildly sentimental Heian litera-
ture, the disregard of human life which pervades history
ETHICS OF YEDO PERIOD 231
and fiction alike during the Yedo period is not a little
remarkable. It is conspicuously observable in the ethics
of suicide. The moral code of this time contains no
canon 'gainst self-slaughter. On the contrary, the occa-
sions when a Japanese Samurai was bound to commit
suicide were innumerable. Grave insults which it was
impossible to revenge, unmerited disgrace, gross blunder-
ing, errors of judgment, or even simple failure in official
matters, crimes not of a disgraceful character, all entailed
the necessity of suicide, or at least made it the most
honourable course to pursue. If a Samurai had occa-
sion to remonstrate wdth his lord for some act of mis-
government, he frequently emphasised his appeal by
suicide. The case of the forty-seven Renins who slew
themselves in a body at the grave of their master after
having executed a bloody revenge on his enemy, is known
to all readers of Mr. Mitford's Tales of Old Japan. Another
admired example is that of a governor of Nagasaki who
in 1808 committed suicide in the approved manner be-
cause he was unable to detain and destroy a British man-
of-war which had defied his authority. The case of the
last of the Shoguns may also be quoted. On the down-
fall of his power in 1867 he was urged by one of his
Council to save the honour of his family by a voluntary
suicide. He flatly refused to do so and left the room,
whereupon his faithful adviser retired to another part of
the castle and solemnly performed the hara-kiri} Of
suicides, attempted suicides, or threatened suicides of
men, women, and children, on the stage and in fiction,
there is simply no end.
Human nature being the same everywhere, the duties
^ Literally "belly-cul," a term which some English wag has thought fit to
render by "happy despatch."
2 32 JAPANESE LITERATURE
arising out of the relations of the sexes are essential!]
the same in Japan as in Europe. Chastity, both in mei
and women, is a virtue, as it is with ourselves. But ii
the Yedo period it was thrust into the background by the
more urgent claims of loyalty and filial duty. In theori
a man should have but one wife. In the case of th(
heads of great houses, one or even more concubines wen
allowed, but only with the bond fide object of havin)
children. Vulgar licentiousness was condemned, and ii
the case of officials was visited with severe punishment.
The position of the wife, as of women generally, was
very different in the Yedo period from what it had beei
in earlier times. Chinese notions of the absolute sub-
jection and the seclusion, as far as possible, of the sex,
made great progress. Women were now rarely heard of
in public life, and disappear completely from the world
of literature — a significant fact when we remember the
feminine masterpieces of the Heian period. A woman's
first duty was to be faithful and obedient to her husband.
Second marriages of widows were not absolutely for-
bidden, but women who refused to contract such unions
were highly commended, and when we meet with the
word "chastity" in a Japanese book, it is generally this
form of the virtue which is meant. A wife was bound
to revenge her husband's murder, and in fiction at least
was permitted to sacrifice her own honour with this
praiseworthy object. Some European travellers and
novelists speak as if an unmarried woman's maiden fame
were a thing of no account in Japan. This is simple
nonsense. But it can hardly be denied that more par-
ticularly in their case chastity holds a lower place in the
scale of virtues than in Christian countries. According
to the code of morality of novelists and dramatists, it is
ETHICS OF YEDO PERIOD 233
permissible for, and even obligatory on, a girl to allow
herself to be sold into prostitution in order to support
her destitute parents. Incidents of this kind are very
common indeed in their pages.
The harlot figures very prominently in the literature
of the Yedo period, and in Japan, as elsewhere, writers
have not been wanting who have done their best to
surround this calling with a halo of romance. But, as
Mitford has shown, Japanese opinion on this subject is
on the whole sound. There may be some difference of
degree, but of the substantial identity of the feeling with
which prostitution is regarded by them and by ourselves
there can be no doubt. The proverb, ^' When you find
an honest harlot and a three-cornered egg, the moon will
appear on the last day of the [lunar] month," very clearly
indicates the general opinion of this class.
Piety, by which must be understood a devotion to
Buddhist religious practices, was not in high estimation
under the Tokugawas. It is not a distinctive virtue of
the Japanese character at any period of their history.
On the extreme punctiliousness and ceremony which
characterised all the doings of a well-bred Japanese, of
his sensitiveness on the point of honour, and of his cult
of the sword as a sort of incarnation of the spirit of the
Samurai, this is not the place to dilate. Nor need any-
thing be said of the virtues of frugality, sobriety, honesty,
and liberality, as they hold practically the same position
in Japan as with ourselves. The duties of superiors to
their inferiors, of a lord to his retainer, of a father to his
son, and of a husband towards his wife, may also be taken
for granted. Though less frequently insisted upon, they
are by no means passed over by the Japanese moralist.
As time went on, the code of morals derived from the
234 JAPANESE LITERATURE
teachings of the philosophers of China, and expounde(
and appHed by their Japanese followers, gained in pre
cision and detail. But what had originally been a whole
some and vivifying influence became a burden to ihc
nation. It fell most heavily on the Samurai, all whos<
actions were governed by strict rules and punctiliou!
etiquette, in a way which was fatal to any reasonabh
share of personal freedom. In short, the great fault o
the later Shogunate was over-regulation in almost ever
department of life. I was one day walking with the lat(
Count Terashima, then Minister for Foreign Affairs, in on(
of those beautiful creations of the landscape gardener's
art which abound in Tokio. He pointed to a grove o
fir-trees standing by an artificial lake, which had beer
trimmed and trained by generations of gardeners int<
quaint and not unpleasing but stunted shapes. ^' There,'
he said, *^ is an emblem of the Japanese nation under th(
Bakufu [Shogunate]. That is what Chinese learning die
for us."
There is much in this type of humanity which it ii
hard for us Europeans to understand and appreciate
The Japanese of the ancient classical period appeal mor<
strongly to our sympathies. Even Herodotus and Plato
far removed as they are from us in point of time, ar<
immeasurably nearer to modern Englishmen in all theit
ideas, sentiments, and moral standards, than the Japanes<
of fifty years ago.
Fujiwara Seikwa was the forerunner of a long series
Kangakusha. His pupils became in their turn teachers
and handed on the torch of learning, which now begai
to burn brightly. It is difficult to give an idea of th<
rage for the acquisition of knowledge which possessec
the Japanese people during the seventeenth century. I
DOSHUN
235
can only be compared to the passion for European
learning of the last thirty years.
Following the example of the great founder of their
dynasty, the Tokugawa Shoguns encouraged learning by
every means in their power. They founded libraries and
colleges, subsidised professors, and were liberal of their
favours to all eminent scholars. Tsunayoshi, the fifth
Tokugawa Shogun (i 680-1 709), an indifferent ruler, was
passionately fond of learning. He surrounded himself
with scholars, and spent all his leisure time in study.
He used even to deliver lectures on the Chinese classics
to audiences composed of Daimios and high officials,
Shinto functionaries and Buddhist priests. It was in his
time that Yedo began to take prominence as a literary
centre.
The Daimios, in their turn, vied with one another in
attracting distinguished Kangakusha to their service, and
in establishing high schools for the teaching of the
classics, Chinese and Japanese history and composition.
Nor were the people neglected. Nearly every temple
had a terakoya attached to it, where the children of
peasants, mechanics, and tradespeople were instructed
in reading, writing, and arithmetic.
It is impossible to notice all the Kangakusha who
flourished at this time, or to enumerate their most volu-
minous writings. They do not take high rank as litera-
ture. A word of mention is due, however, to Hayashi
Rasan, also called DosHUN, with half-a-dozen other
aliases, which it is needless to reproduce here. All the
Kangakusha indulged in a profusion of aUases, much to
the confusion of bibliographers and writers on Japanese
literature. Doshun (b. 1583, d. 1657) was a pupil of
Seikwa. He was a devoted student, and never passed a
236 JAPANESE LITERATURE
day in his life without reading something. It is related
of him that once, when obliged to flee from his house by
a great conflagration, he took some books with him in
his kagOy and continued his work of annotation on the
way. The list of his publications comprises one hundred
and seventy separate treatises, mostly of a scholastic or
moral character. There are also some memoirs use-
ful to the historian, and one hundred and fifty volumes
of miscellanies, essays, &c. He held an official position
under the Shogun's Government, by which he was em-
ployed in drafting laws, and in giving advice on knotty
questions which required learning for their solution.
He was the founder of a long line of official Kangakusha
which lasted until the downfall of the Shogunate in
1867.
His son, Hayashi Shunsai (1618-1680) compiled about
1652 a history of Japan entitled O-dai-ichi-ran. It is in
every respect a very poor production, and is only men-
tioned here because a translation into French by Klaproth
was published by the Oriental Translation Fund in 1835.
Passing over a number of scholars deservedly remem-
bered with gratitude in their own country for their ser-
vices to learning and good morals, we come to Kaibara
Yekken (1630-1714), who was born at Fukuoka, in
Chikuzen, of the Daimios of which province his family
were hereditary retainers. His father held an official
appointment as physician, and Yekken himself acquired
some proficiency in the art of medicine. His first
teacher was his elder brother, under whose instructions
he was weaned of a liking for Buddhism, and devoted
himself to the study of the Chinese classics. When he
grew up to manhood he went to reside in Kioto, where
he benefited by the instruction of Kinoshita Junan and
YEKKEN 237
other scholars. He had, however, no regular teacher.
After three years spent in study he returned to his
province, where he held honourable official posts under
three successive Daimios until 1700, when he retired on
a pension, and took up his abode in Kioto, where he
spent the remainder of his days. His wife is said to
have been an accomplished woman. She accompanied
him on his travels to various parts of Japan, and assisted
him in his literary labours.
Yekken was a voluminous writer, and in the course of
a long life (the Kangakusha were remarkable for longe-
vity) produced over a hundred different works, compris-
ing moral treatises, commentaries on the Chinese classics,
learned dissertations on Japanese philology, botanical
works, and books of travel. His sole object in writing
was to benefit his countrymen ; and his style, though
manly and vigorous, is wholly devoid of rhetorical orna-
ment, and of those frivolities of language which were so
freely indulged in by contemporary novelists and drama-
tists. He used the Kana or native phonetic script as far
as possible, so as to bring his teachings down to the level
of children and ignorant people. Though perhaps the
most eminent scholar of his day, there is not an atom of
pedantry about him. No Japanese books are more easy
of comprehension than his. Their principal fault is one
very common with Japanese writers of the Yedo period,
namely, diffuseness and repetition.
Due allowance being made for his age and country,
Yekken's writings are full of excellent morality of a plain,
common-sense description. It is hardly possible to over-
estimate their influence, or the service which he rendered
to his country by his teachings.
The following detached sentences from the Dojikun, a
238 JAPANESE LITERATURE
treatise on education, composed by him at the age of
eighty, will give some idea of their quality. They have
been somewhat abridged in translation.
'^ In the houses of the great, good persons should be
chosen from the first to be attached to the child. Even
the poor should be careful, so far as their circumstances
will permit, that their children should associate with good
people. This is the teaching of the [Chinese] sages."
'^A wet-nurse should be of a gentle disposition, staid
and grave of demeanour, and of few words."
" A boy's education should begin from the time when
he can eat rice, speak a little, and show pleasure or
anger."
" Some nurses make cowards of children by wantonly
telling them frightful stories. Ghost stories and the like
should not be told to children. They should not be too
warmly clad, or have too much to eat."
"Cunning, chattering, lying women should not be
engaged as nurses. Drunkards, self-willed or malicious
persons should also be avoided."
" From their infancy, truth in word and thought should
be made of the first importance. Children should be
severely punished for lying or deceit. Let their parents
be careful not to deceive them, for this is another way of
teaching them to deceive."
"A tutor should be a man of upright life. A child
should not be put to learn of a disreputable person, no
matter how clever he may be."
" Better for a child to lose a year's study than consort
for a day with a base companion."
"Every night the child's sayings and actions during
the day should be reviewed, and if necessary, punishment
administered."
YEKKEN 239
** At the age of ten a boy should go to school. If he
remains longer at home he is apt to be spoiled by his
parents."
" Before sitting down to study, a boy should wash his
hands, set a guard upon his thoughts, and compose his
countenance. He should brush the dust off his desk,
place his books upon it in an orderly manner, and read
them in a kneeling posture. When he is reading to his
teacher, he should not rest his book on a high desk, but
on its case or on a low stand. It should certainly not be
placed on the floor. Books should be kept clean, and
when they are no longer required, the covers should be
put on, and they should be put back in their place. This
should be done even when the pupil is called away for
some urgency. Books should not be flung about, stridden
over, or used as pillows. The corners should not be
turned down, or spittle used to raise the leaves. If waste
paper contains texts from the classics or the names of
sages, boys should be careful not to apply it to common
purposes. Nor should waste paper with the names of
one's parents or lord be defiled."
Yekken devotes the third volume of the Dojikun to the
education of girls. The two great virtues of a woman
are, in his opinion, amiability and obedience. In another
place he sums up the good qualities of a woman as —
'' ist. A womanly disposition, as shown in modesty
and submissiveness.
" 2nd. Womanly language. She should be careful in
the choice of words, and avoid lying and unseemly ex-
pressions. She should speak when necessary, and be
silent at other times. She should not be averse to listen-
ing to others.
" 3rd. Womanly apparel. She should be cleanly, avoid
240 JAPANESE LITERATURE
undue ornament, and have a proper regard to taste and
refinement.
^'4th. Womanly arts. These include sewing, reeling
silk, making clothes, and cooking.
"Everything impure should be kept from a girl's
ears. Popular songs and the popular drama are not
for them. The he Monogatari and Genji Monogatari
are objectionable on account of their immoral tend-
ency."
Yekken recommends parents to write out the follow-
ing thirteen counsels and give them to their daughters
on their marriage. I have abbreviated them a good
deal.
" I. Be respectful and obedient to your parents-in-law.
" 2. A woman has no [feudal] lord. She should rever-
ence and obey her husband instead.
" 3. Cultivate friendly relations with your husband's
relatives.
"4. Avoid jealousy. If your husband offends, remon-
strate with him gently, without hate or anger.
" 5. Generally, when your husband does wrong, it is
your duty to remonstrate with him gently and affection-
ately.
"6. Be of few words. Avoid abusive language and
falsehood.
" 7. Be always circumspect in your behaviour. Get
up early. Go to bed at midnight. Do not indulge in a
siesta. Attend diligently to the work of the house. Do
not become addicted to sake or tea. Avoid listening to
lewd songs or music. Shinto shrines and Buddhist
temples being public resorts for pleasure, should be
sparingly visited before the age of forty.
" 8. Have nothing to do with fortune-tellers or
YEKKEN 241
mediums, and do not offend the gods and Buddha by too
famihar importunities. Attend to your human duties,
and do not let your heart run astray after invisible
supernatural beings.
'^ 9. Economy in domestic matters is all-important.
^^ 10. Keep young men at a distance. On no account
have any written correspondence with them. Male
domestics should not be allowed to enter the women's
apartments.
" II. Avoid conspicuous colours and patterns in your
dress. Choose those suitable for a somewhat older
person than yourself.
"12. In everything your husband and his parents
should come before your own parents.
'^ 13. Do not attend to the tattle of female servants."
This is commonplace enough. But Yekken could rise
to higher flights on occasion, as the following extract
from a treatise on the philosophy of pleasure {Raku-kmt)
will show. The sentiment is of a distinctly Words-
worthian quality.
^' If we make inward pleasures our chief aim, and use
the ears and eyes simply as the means of procuring such
delights from without, we shall not be molested by the
lusts of these senses. If we open our hearts to the beauty
of heaven, earth, and the ten thousand created things,
they will yield us pleasure without limit, pleasure always
before our eyes, night and morning, full and overflowing.
The man who takes delight in such things becomes the
owner of the mountains and streams, of the moon and
flowers, and needs not to pay his court to others in order
to enjoy them. They are not bought with treasure.
Without the expenditure of a single cash he may use
them to his heart's content, and yet never exhaust them.
Q
242 JAPANESE LITERATURE
And although he enjoys possession of them as his ow
no man will wrangle with him in order to deprive him oj
them. The reason is that the beauty of mountain an
river, moon and flowers, has from the beginning no fixec
owner.
"He who knows the boundless sources of deligh
which are thus contained in the universe, and whc
finds his enjoyment therein, envies not the luxurioui
pleasures of the rich and great ; for such enjoyments
are beyond those of wealth and honours. He who ij
unconscious of them cannot enjoy the delectable thing
in the greatest abundance which are every day before
his eyes.
"Vulgar pleasures, even before they pass, become
torment to the body. If, for example, carried away bj
desire, we eat and drink our fill of dainty things, it is
pleasant at first, but disease and suffering soon follow
In general, vulgar pleasures corrupt the heart, injure the
constitution, and end in misery. The pleasures of th
man of worth, on the other hand, nourish the heart anc
do not entice us astray. To speak in terms of outwarc
things, the pleasures which we derive from the love o
the moon or of flowers, from gazing on the hills anc
streams, from humming to the wind or following th(
flight of birds with envy, are of a mild nature. We may
take delight in them all day long and do ourselves no
harm. Man will not blame us, nor God remonstrate
with us for indulgence in it. It is easy to be attained
even by the poor and needy, and has no ill consequences
The rich and great, absorbed in luxury and indolence,
know not these pleasures ; but the poor man, little affected
by such hindrances, may readily procure them if he only
chooses to do so."
YEKKEN
On Gardening
243
'' When you move into a house your first care ought to
be to plant fruit-trees. Others may come after. Fore-
thought for ten years consists in planting trees. In
planting, fruit should come first, flowers should be your
next care, and foliage last of all. Fruit is of the greatest
use to man ; and fruit-trees should be planted in large
numbers, particularly the orange and the hme. When
their fruit has formed and ripened, it is not inferior in
beauty to flowers. In planting persimmons, pears, chest-
nuts, and pepper, the best sorts should be selected. For
flowering trees, the ordinary plum should come first.
The red-blossomed plum is also good, and the cherry.
It is a pity it sheds its flowers so soon. The camellia
remains long in bloom, and its leaves are beautiful. It
grows readily from cuttings, and blossoms early. The
kaido [P^rus spectabilis\ and azaleas of different kinds,
are also to be commended. For foliage-trees, choose
the cryptomeria, the Thuya obtusuy the podocarpus, and
evergreen-trees generally. Bamboos should be planted
on the northern side, as a protection against fire and
wind. They may be cut down from time to time, and
put away for use on occasion. In the front garden plant
willows, cherry-trees, firs, and cryptomerias. Avoid
planting too thickly ; it makes too much moisture, and
in summer harbours mosquitoes, which are a plague.
" Vegetables may be planted for everyday use. They
are fresher when grown at home than if bought in the
market. Besides, the luxuriance of their leaves delights
the eye not less than the beauty of flowers.
" Moreover it tends to edify the heart if we plant trees.
244 JAPANESE LITERATURE
and herbs in our gardens and love them. In our leisur
moments we should pay some attention to looking fo
things easy to get, just as they may turn up, and plantini
them. If we strive after procuring things hard to comi
at, and either beg them unconscionably of our friends, o
buy them at a high price, we get proud of the number o
kinds we have collected, or of the superiority of thi
flowers. This leads to rivalry in the goodness of th(
flowers. Trouble ensues, and heart-burnings, which ar<
injurious to self-discipline, yield no pleasure, and caus<
nothing but anxiety."
Yekken was also a poet. The following Tanka wai
composed by him when he felt death approaching :
" The past
Seems to me
Like a single night :
Ah/ the dreatn
Of more than eighty years P"^
The most distinguished of the Kangakusha was un
doubtedly Arm Hakuseki. He was born in Yedo i
1657, his father being in the service of Lord Tsuchiya,
small Daimio of the province of Kadzusa. Hakusek
has fortunately left an autobiography, a very rare kin(
of literature in Japan, and we have therefore much fullei
information regarding his life than is usual in the case of
Japanese authors. It was written not for publication (th(
copy before me is in manuscript), but for the information
of his own descendants, so that they might not have the
dissatisfaction he himself had experienced of knowing
little about their ancestors. This autobiography was
written in 1716, after Hakuseki had retired from public
life. It is entitled Ori-taku-shiba (" Burning Faggots "),
HAKUSEKI 245
in allusion to a poem of the Emperor Go Toba which
speaks of the smoke of faggots at evening bringing back
the memory (of a departed dear one who had been cre-
mated ?). The early part of this work is taken up with
an account of ^^the man who was his father," to use
Hakuseki's curious phrase, a metsuke^ or inspector of
the Daimio's Yedo mansion. In him he has given a
minute and loving description of a Japanese gentleman
(of the olden time. 1 transcribe a few sentences : —
*^ Ever since I came to understand the heart of things,
my memory is that the daily routine of his life was always
exactly the same. He never failed to get up an hour
before daybreak. He then had a cold bath, and did his
hair himself. In cold weather, the woman who was my
mother would propose to order hot water for him, but
this he would not allow, as he wished to avoid giving the
servants trouble. When he was over seventy, and my
mother also was advanced in years, sometimes when the
cold was unendurable, a lighted brazier was brought in,
and they lay down to sleep with their feet against it.
Beside the fire there was placed a kettle with hot water,
which my father drank when he got up. Both of them
honoured the Way of Buddha. My father, when he had
arranged his hair and adjusted his clothing, never
neglected to make obeisance to Buddha. On the anni-
versaries of his father's and mother's death he and my
mother prepared the rice for the offerings. This duty
was never entrusted to servants. After he was dressed
he waited quietly till dawn, and then went out to his
official duty."
" Since I remember, there were but few black hairs on
1 This is the word usually rendered *'spy."
246 JAPANESE LITERATURE
his head. He had a square-shaped face with a hig
forehead. His eyes were large^ he had a thick growt
of beard, and was short of stature. He was, however]
a big-boned, powerful man. He was never known tC
betray anger, nor do I remember that even when he
laughed he ever gave way to boisterous mirth. Mud
less did he ever descend to violent language when h<
had occasion to reprimand any one. In his conversatior
he used as few words as possible. His demeanour waj
grave. I have never seen him startled, flurried, or im
patient. When he applied the moxa^ he used to saj
there was no use in small and few applications, anc
would put on live or seven great patches at the sami
time without showing any sign of suffering. The roon
he usually occupied he kept cleanly swept, had an ol(
picture hung on the wall, and a few flowers which wen
in season set out in a vase. He would spend the da;
looking at them. He painted a little in black and white
not being fond of colours. When in good health h<
never troubled a servant, but did' everything for him
self."
As a boy Hakuseki gave many proofs of precocioui
intelligence. Before he was three years of age he copie
out some Chinese characters in a recognisable manner
His Daimio noticed him and kept him constantly abou
his own person.
^' In the autumn of my eighth year, Tobe [his Daimio
went to the province of Kadzusa, leaving instructions
that I was to be taught writing. In the middle of the
twelfth month of the winter of that year he returned, and
I resumed my usual attendance on him. In the autumn
^ A kind of tinder, applied to the skin in small patches and then burnt, as
a remedy for various ailments.
HAKUSEKI 247
of the next year, when he went again to his province,
he set me a task, ordering me to write out every day in
the day-time three thousand Chinese characters in the
round or cursive script, and at night one thousand.
When winter came on and the days became shorter, it
frequently happened that the sun approached his setting
before my task was finished. I would then take my desk
out to a bamboo veranda which faced the west, and finish
it there. Moreover, as I sometimes got intolerably sleepy
over my nightly task, I arranged with the man who was
told off to serve me to put two buckets of water on the
aforesaid veranda. When I became very drowsy I took
off my coat and poured one of the buckets of water over
me. I then resumed my clothing and went on writing.
The cold produced in this way for a while answered the
purpose of keeping me awake. But after a time I became
warm again, and the drowsiness came back, when I poured
water over myself as before. With two applications of
this kind I was able to get through most of my work.
This was in the autumn and winter of my ninth year.
. . . From my thirteenth year Tobe used me to con-
duct most of his correspondence."
Hakuseki was an ambitious youth, as the following
saying of his shows : ^Mf, alive, a man cannot become
a Daimio, better die and be a king of Hades." In this
spirit he refused an eligible offer of marriage to the
daughter of a wealthy merchant, although both he and
his father, who had retired on a small pension, were in
great poverty. In 1682 he entered the service of Hotta,
the Daimio of Furukawa, with whom he remained ten
years. When he left him Hakuseki was almost desti-
tute. His only property was a box containing three
hundred cash, and three measures of rice (a week's
248 JAPANESE LITERATURE
i
supply). His teacher, Kinoshita Junan, of whom he
always speaks with the greatest reverence, tried to pro-
cure him an appointment with the Daimio of Kaga ; but
Hakuseki, being appealed to by a friend who had an
aged mother in that province dependent on him for sup-
port, begged Junan to use his influence for him instead.
Hakuseki had no favourable opportunity of advancement
until 1693, when he was thirty -six years of age. On
the recommendation of Junan, he was then engaged as
Professor of Chinese by lyenobu, subsequently (1709-
1713) Shogun, but at this time Daimio of K5fu.
His relations with lyenobu were throughout of the
most cordial nature. He was always receiving from him
presents of clothing and money. When Hakuseki
lectured on the Chinese classics, lyenobu listened with
the greatest respect, refraining in summer from brushing
off a mosquito, and in winter, when he had a cold in his
head, turning away from the lecturer before wiping his
nose with the paper of which he kept a supply in his
sleeve. *' You may imagine," says Hakuseki, addressing
his posterity in the Ori-taku-shibay " how quiet the rest of
the audience were."
In 1701, by command of lyenobu, Hakuseki composed
his greatest work, the Hankampu, a history of the Daimios
of Japan from 1600 to 1680. It is in thirty volumes and
must have required immense research, yet it was written
in a few months. Having received the order in the first
month, he began the draft on the eleventh day of the
seventh month. The manuscript was completed in the
eleventh month, and a fair copy was made by Hakuseki
himself and laid before lyenobu on the nineteenth
day of the second month of the following year. Haku-
seki mentions these details with obvious pride in his
HAKUSEKI 249
autobiography. They are very characteristic of the
extreme rapidity of composition of Japanese authors
during this period. They expended no superfluous
labour of the file upon their works. Yet the Hankampu
cannot be called a carelessly written book. Not only
does it contain most valuable material for the future
historian of Japan, but the style is highly commended
by the best native critics for its combined elegance and
vigour, neither leaning too much to Chinese pedantry
on the one hand, nor to Japanese purism on the other.
So far as a " Western barbarian " may be allowed an
opinion, this praise is not undeserved, though it is perhaps
unnecessary to endorse the language of a native admirer
who declares that " Hakuseki's heart is brocade, his
bowels are rich embroidery, his spittle produces pearls,
and his half - conscious mutterings form harmonious
music." The Hankainpu contains much genealogical
and other matter which has little interest for the
European reader. Even Hakuseki's countrymen at the
present day will probably admit that there is more than
enough of this element. Although one of the most
important works of the Yedo period, I doubt whether it
has been printed. The Shoguns' government was much
given to cachotterie in matters of state, and very many of
the most interesting political works of this period were
only circulated privately among the official class. Two
copies in my possession are both in manuscript, the
form in which Hakuseki's works are usually met with.
In the case of the Hankampu there were probably
substantial reasons for refraining from publication. It
was hardly possible, especially for a man of Hakuseki's
fearless and uncompromising nature, to relate without
offence the history of three hundred and thirty-seven
2 50 JAPANESE LITERATURE
noble houses down to twenty years before the time of
writing.
The following extract will give some idea of the scope
and character of this work : —
ITAKURA SHIGEHIDE AS A JUDGE OF CRIMINAL CASES
'^ It is impossible fully to set forth here the reputation
of this man while he remained in office, or his fame
throughout the Empire. I shall only take one principa
instance.
" From the time that he received his appointment, h(
was in the habit, when on his way to the tribunal anc
before taking his place there, to pay distant worship in j
corridor which faced the west. Here a tea-milP wa
placed, and the paper slides being drawn, Shigehid
seated himself behind them and heard the cases whil
grinding the tea with his own hand. Everybody won
dered at this conduct, but no one dared to question him
Many years afterwards he was asked the reason, anc
replied : ^ Well, the reason why I worshipped afar in ;
corridor which faced the west before taking my place ii
the tribunal was this : I was worshipping the gods c
Atago. I was told that among all the many gods thes
were the most efficacious, and I offered a prayer to ther
when I thus worshipped. I said in my prayer : ^' I
deciding the cases which are brought before Shigehidi
this day, may there be nothing to which his heart is u
equal. If he errs and allows selfish motives to influenc
him, may the gods be pleased that same moment to take
away his life." And I adjured them daily, in virtue of my
^ A small hand-mill of stone used for reducing tea to powder before making
the infusion. The whole is then drunk — leaves and all.
HAKUSEKI 251
profound trust in them for years, not to let me live if
self should get the better of me.
^^ ' Another thing which I thought to interfere with
clearness of judgment is the emotion of the heart. A
really good man will not allow such emotion to arise.
Shigehide [himself], however, could not reach this per-
fection. So in order to test my heart and ascertain
whether it was calm or perturbed, the only expedient I
could think of was to grind tea. When my heart was
steady and calm, my hand was accordant with it. The
mill then went round smoothly, and the powdered tea
which fell from it was beautifully fine. I knew when
the tea fell down in a fine powder that my heart was
free from emotion. Not till then did I pronounce
judgment.
" ^ The reason why I heard cases with a paper screen
interposed was this : Taking men in general, a glance at
their faces shows that some are ill-favoured and others
prepossessing ; some are honest-looking, others knavish.
There are many such varieties — more than I can tell. On
looking at them we are apt to conclude that the honest-
looking man's evidence is true, and that the actions of
the knavish-looking fellow are all false, though they may
be straightforward enough. We think that the plaint of
the man of prepossessing appearance shows that he has
been wronged, and that the contention of the ill-favoured
man is erroneous. In all these cases the heart is moved
by what we see with our eyes. Even before the wit-
nesses utter a word, we say in our hearts, *' Such a one is a
knave, such a one is right, such a one is straightforward,"
so that when we come to hear the evidence we are apt to
wrest it to our preconceived ideas. But very frequently
it is seen during the trial that among prepossessing coun-
252 JAPANESE LITERATURE
tenances some belong to men who are truly detestable,
and that of ill-favoured men some are deserving of sym-
pathy. Among the honest-looking there are knaves, and
true men among the knavish-looking. Men's hearts are
hard to know, and the plan of judging of them by their
looks will not answer. . . . Even for those against whom
there is no charge, it must be a terrible thing to appear
in a court of justice. Some there are who, when they
see before them the man in whose hands are life and
death, are bewildered and cast down to such a degree as
to be unable to plead what they might in their defence.
When I reflected on this I felt that it was after all better
that the judge and the prisoner should not see one another
face to face. This was my reason for taking my seat with
a screen interposed.' "
Next to the Hankampu, Hakuseki's most important
work is the Tokushi Yoron, which was written by order
of lyenobu in 17 12. It gives for the first time a general
view of Japanese history for two thousand years, dwelling
more particularly on periods of change and revolution,
and showing the connection of events in a way which had
never been previously attempted. Its historical value is
considerable, but the style is not considered equal to that
of his earlier work.
lyenobu became Shogun in 1709. From this time
forward Hakuseki, although holding no definite position
in the government, was his constant adviser in state
affairs. His influence was given on the side of common-
sense and justice. One of the first matters he was con-
cerned in was a currency question. To meet the expenses
of the installation of the new Shogun, the Minister of
Finance, Hagiwara Shigehide, proposed various schemes
HAKUSEKI 253
involving the debasing of the currency. These were
vigorously opposed by Hakuseki, and with complete
success, Hagiwara being deprived of office, and the cur-
rency at length (in 1714) placed on a solid foundation.
A more doubtful financial measure taken by his advice
restricted the export of gold and silver, and limited the
number of vessels engaged in foreign commerce.
Throughout lyenobu's reign Hakuseki was the acknow-
ledged authority on financial matters. In 1741 an embassy
arrived from Corea. He was charged with the negotia-
tions, and acquitted himself with great credit. At this
time he received the title of Chikugo no Kami, and a
grant of 500 kokus of rice annually. His strong interest
in foreign affairs is evidenced by a little work called
Gojiryakuy a collection of memoranda (still in manu-
script) on Loochoo, the forms of diplomatic intercourse,
the movement of specie, &c.
To us Europeans the most interesting episode in
Hakuseki's life is his relations with an unfortunate
Italian missionary, Father Sidotti, who landed alone in
the province of Satsuma in 1708, with some wild hope
of being allowed to preach the Christian religion in
Japan. He was at once arrested, and ultimately sent
to Yedo, where, after some time had elapsed, he was
handed over to Hakuseki for examination.
In the Seiyo Kibun (" Notes of the Western Ocean "),
Hakuseki has given a history of this affair, to which he
has appended such information regarding the geography
and history of European countries as he was able to
extract from this unhappy man. Owing chiefly to diffi-
culties of interpretation, it is meagre in the extreme, but
yet interesting as the first attempt of a Japanese writer
to give an account of Europe.
^
254 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Sidotti produced in Hakuseki that mixed feeling of
perplexity and irritation which contact with a profound^
religious faith so often excites in thinkers of the positive'
type. The devotion to his sovereign and religious chief
(for so Hakuseki thought it) which prompted him at the
Pope's command to journey to so distant a country, and
there for six years to undergo peril and suffering, ap
pealed strongly to a man who had himself a stern sense
of duty. Hakuseki reported to his Government that it
was impossible to witness without emotion Sidotti's firm
adherence to his own faith, and he also spoke with warm
appreciation of his kindly disposition and scientific know-
ledge. " But," said he, ^^ when this man begins to speak
of religion his talk is shallow and scarce a word is intel-
ligible. All of a sudden folly takes the place of wisdom.
It is like listening to the talk of two different men."
The " folly " which Hakuseki had more particularly
in view was an outline of Bible history and Christian
doctrine which Sidotti had dictated to him in the fulness
of his heart. In its Japanese form it is a dry and soulless
husk, which affords some excuse for Hakuseki's obtuse-
ness to its spiritual import. It should be a warning to
missionaries not to attempt the teaching of religion until
they have something more than a tyro's command of the
language. As Hakuseki's attitude towards Christianity
is essentially that of educated Japanese at the present
day, I may quote some of his observations.
^^ The foreign word ' Deus,' which the Western man
used in his discourse, is equivalent to ^Creator,' and
means simply a Being who first made heaven and earth
and the ten thousand things. He argued that the universe
did not come into existence of itself. ^ It must,' he said,
' have had a maker.' But if this were so, then who made
HAKUSEKI 255
Deus ? How could he be born while there was yet no
heaven or earth ? And if Deus could come into existence
of himself, why should not heaven and earth do so like-
wise ? Again, there is the doctrine, that before the world
existed, there was a heavenly paradise made for good
men. I cannot understand how men could have any
knowledge of good and evil while there was yet no heaven
and earth. It is unnecessary to discuss all his notions
about the beginning of the world and of mankind, of para-
dise and of hell, as they are all derived from Buddhism.
" What will be thought of the idea that Deus, pitying
the heinous criminals who had broken the heavenly com-
mands, and who of themselves could not give satisfaction,
was three thousand years after, for their sakes, born as
Jesus, and in their stead redeemed their guilt ? This
sounds very childish. At the present time, the judge who
is charged with the infliction of punishment may yet take
a merciful view of the circumstances and grant pardon
or mitigation. And in the case even of the heavenly
commands, what was there to prevent Deus from par-
doning an offence against them, or mitigating the punish-
ment, more especially as he himself was the author of
the prohibition which was broken."
Hakuseki discusses Noah's flood in the same spirit.
The Ten Commandments, he thinks, were borrowed
mainly from Buddhism, as well as the miraculous occur-
rences connected with the birth of Christ, and His styling
Himself '' Deus." The rite of baptism he refers to the
same source.
The result of Hakuseki's examination was a report, in
which he pointed out that the Shogun's Government had
three courses open to them : first, to send Sidotti back
to his own country ; second, to retain him in imprison-
2 56 JAPANESE LITERATURE
I
ment ; and third, to put him to death as prescribed by
law. He gave his own voice strongly in favour of thd
first course, but the second was the one actually adoptedj
Sidotti died in prison not long after .^
On the death of his patron in 1713, Hakuseki wished)
to retire from public life. But it was pointed out to him'
that his help was required to carry out certain measures
already contemplated by the late Shogun. He therefore
consented, from public motives, to continue his counsels,
lyenobu was succeeded by his son lyetsugu, then four
years of age. A momentous question now arose which
convulsed official circles in Yedo for some time. Was a
child of such tender years bound to wear mourning for
his father or not ? Hayashi Shuntai, the hereditary
official representative of Chinese learning at the Shogun's
court, declared for the negative. But he was no match
for Hakuseki, who maintained the affirmative proposi-
tion, and fairly crushed his opponent under a weight of
learning and argument which seems to us rather dis-
proportionate to the occasion. In his autobiography
Hakuseki tells the story of Shuntai's discomfiture with
great triumph.
At lyetsugu's death in 1716, the reins of power passed
into other hands. Hakuseki was no longer consulted,
and spent the remainder of his days as a recluse among
his dearly loved books. He died in 1725 in his sixty-
ninth year. His life shows that in Japan at this time
a career was open for talent. He owed little to any
one but himself. It was sheer worth, force of intel-
lect, and a self-reliant, uncompromising character which
^ The principal part of the Seiyo Kibun, from which the above particulars
are taken, has been translated by the Rev. W. B. Wright, in the Transactions
of the Asiatic Society of Japan ^ August i88i.
KIUSO 257
laised him to the unique position of influence which he
held.
His works, inclusive of state papers and reports to his
Government, number over three hundred. In addition
to those already mentioned, there may be named Yezo-
dan Hikki (in MS.), which treats of the productions of
Yezo, the Yezo language, and the Aino revolt of 1669 ;
Nantoshiy a geographical work on Loochoo ; Keizai Tenkei^
or " Principles of Finance" ; Kwahei Kdy a work on the
currency ; Gunki Kd, on arms ; Kishin Ron, a book on
the nature of the gods ; Gwako BenraUy a work on
painting ; Ketsugoku Koy on knotty points of criminal
law ; Ddbun Tsukd, on the various forms of script used
in Japan ; Shuko DzusetsUj an antiquarian work ; TogUy
a dictionary of Japanese words in twenty books ; and
Sairan IgeUy an expansion of the historical and geo-
graphical part of the Seiyo Kibun.
MuRO Kiuso was born at Yanaka, in the province of
Musashi (not far from Yedo), in 1658. He was dis-
tinguished from his earliest years by a love of learning.
When only thirteen he was taken into the service of the
Daimio of Kaga, who was so much struck by his pre-
cocious talent that he sent him to Kioto to study under
the famous Kinoshita Junan.
In 171 1, on the recommendation of his friend and
fellow-pupil Hakuseki, Kiuso received a Government
appointment in Yedo as Professor of Chinese. In 1713
he took up his residence in a house at Surugadai, a lofty
platform which overlooks Yedo from the north, near the
spot where a Christian church now stands, conspicuous to
the whole city. Here he spent the remainder of his days.
When Hakuseki retired from public life, Kiuso to some
258 JAPANESE LITERATURE
extent took his place as adviser to the Shogunate. The
Shogun Yoshimune(i7i6-i75i) esteemed him highly and
consulted him continually. Kiuso died in 1734 in his
seventy-seventh year.
Kiuso is best remembered by his Shundai Zatsuw^
(1729)/ a work of his old age. The title means '^ Mis^
cellaneous Talk on Surugadai." It consists of notes taken
of the discourses which he delivered in answer to ^' thos^
who believed in the Old Man and came to him witl
questions/' and covers a wide variety of subjects. It con
tains unsparing denunciations of Buddhism, superstition
and heresy from the faith as it is in Chu-Hi ; pantheistic
philosophy, metaphysics, politics, lectures on the arts o
war and poetry, literary criticisms, and so on. Kius^
propounds to the world no original ideas on thes<
subjects. His philosophy is simply that of Chu-Hi in
Japanese garb. But in him, as in Hakuseki, the innei
spirit and temper of mind which it fostered in Japan ij
seen at its best. Some Christian ideals are wanting
Forgiveness of one's enemies is not to be found there
nor is a chivalrous consideration for the weak and foi
women very conspicuous. But a noble enthusiasm foi
lofty ideals and high achievements with a scorn of mean
ness and duplicity pervades all the utterances of thii
Socrates of Surugadai. Loyalty to friends, devotion tc
duty, and a high-souled contempt for cowardice, dis-
honesty, and self-seeking, are their unfailing character-
istics.
Kiuso, like the other seventeenth and eighteentl
century expounders of Chinese philosophy, had
^ Partly translated by Dr. Knox in the Transactions of the Asiatic Society
of Japan, 1892. But a more complete and accurate translation is desir
able.
KIUSO 259
supreme contempt for Buddhism. The Kangakusha's
ideal of life was essentially different. To the Buddhist
the spiritual life is all-important. For its sake men
should wean themselves from the things of this world,
sever all family ties, and retire to hermitages or mon-
asteries, there to spend pure and holy lives in pious
meditation and religious observances. The Chinese
philosophy, on the contrary, is eminently practical. It
may be summed up in one word — duty. The various
relations of human life being ordained by Heaven, it is
man's business not to evade the obligations thus imposed
on him, as the Buddhists would have him do, but to fulfil
them faithfully at all costs.
Japan owes a profound debt of gratitude to the Kanga-
kusha of this time. For their day and country they were
emphatically the salt of the earth, and their writings must
have helped materially to counteract the pernicious in-
fluence of a very different class of literature which now
began to deluge the country, the pornographic writings
of Jisho and his school.
Kiuso's style is unequal to his matter. He is frequently
obscure, and is somewhat too fond of learned allusions
to Chinese history and literature. In both respects he
contrasts with his predecessor Yekken, and even with
Hakuseki, though the latter could be erudite enough
upon occasion. But his learning was probably not mis-
placed considering the audience whom he was addressing,
while his obscurity seems due to the fact that he moved
in an intellectual sphere so far above his contemporaries
that he found the Japanese language of his time an in-
adequate vehicle to convey his thoughts.
The following extract from the Shundai Zatsuwa will
give some idea of Kiuso's philosophic vein : —
1
26o JAPANESE LITERATURE
The Morning-glory (or Convolvulus)
" ' Oh for the heart
Of the morning-glory !
Which, though its bloom is for a single hour,
Is the same as that of the fir-tree
Which lives a thousand years.'' — Matsunaga.
*' To my mind there is a profound meaning in this verse
Many poems, some of ancient date, have been composec
on the morning-glory, for the most part alluding to i1
short-lived bloom, and associating it with the melancholj
sentiment of autumn. It is thus made an emblem of thj
transitory world. Such verses have no deeper meanin|
The Hnes of Haku Kyo-i [in Chinese, Peh Ku-yih] —
' After a thousand years at last the fir decays :
The hibiscus-ftower glories in its one day's life ' —
have the stamp of official approval, and are reckone
elegant. But there is here a forced endeavour to ma
glory and decay the same, and to assimilate robust li
with early death. This may sound fine in the ears of th
vulgar, but it is after all a very superficial view. Such
ideas go no further than to reproduce the drivel
Gautama [Buddha], or to lick the spittle of Chwan
chow [a Taoist philosopher]. This cannot be the mead
ing of Matsunaga's ^ heart differing not from that of the
fir-tree.' What do you say, gentlemen ? To this old
man's mind it says, ^ He that in the morning has found
the Way may die content at night.' To blossom in the
early morn, to aw^ait the sun's rays and then to fade, is
the nature which the morning-glory has received from
heaven. There are in the world fir-trees which live a
thousand years, but the morning-glory, though endowed
ch
\
KIUSO 261
with so brief a span of existence, never forgets itself for
a moment or is envious of others. Morning after morn-
ing the flowers unfold, enchantingly beautiful; and having
J exhausted that natural virtue which has been allotted to
them, they wither. Herein they show their faithfulness
to duty. Why should it be regarded as vain and un-
profitable ? The fir does just the same, but the morning-
glory, being short-lived, illustrates this principle in a
more striking manner. Not that in the mind of the fir-
tree there is any idea of a thousand years, or in that of
the morning-glory the thought of a single day. Each
simply fulfils its allotted nature. The view of the thousand
years of the fir-tree as robust vigour, and of the one day
of the morning-glory as vain and transitory, belongs
simply to the man who looks on them from without. It
is absurd to suppose that in the mind of the fir-tree or
convolvulus there is any such thought.
^^AU things without sense are the same. But man,
endowed with feeling, and described as the soul of the
universe, becomes entangled by his own craftiness, and
so long as he does not learn the Way, falls short of
this perfection. This is why it is necessary for him to
learn the Way. To learn the Way must not be taken
to be anything of a special kind, such as the spiritual
vision of the Buddhists or the like. The Way is the
original right principle of things. It is something which
vulgar men and women know and practise as well as
others. But as they do not truly know it, they do not
thoroughly practise it. They learn it, but do not fully
comprehend it ; they practise it, but not with conspicuous
success. They may go on striving to the end of their
days, but they will never enter into its full meaning.
Now to learn the Way is nothing more than to acquire a
262 JAPANESE LITERATURE
true knowledge of this principle, and to practise it effec-
tively until you have the restful feeling of a fish in water,
and take the same pleasure in it that a bird does in the
groves. It should be made one's very life at all times,
never being departed from for a moment. If, so long as
we live, we follow the Way, when we die these bodies
of ours and the Way come to an end together, and a
long peace ensues. Living for a day, let us fulfil th<
Way for that day and die ; living for a month, let u
fulfil the Way for that month and die ; living for a year
let us fulfil the Way for that year and die. If we do so
there will be left not an atom of regret, even if we die ii
the evening after having learnt the Way in the morning,
^' Looking at the matter in this light, why should th<
morning-glory resent that it must fade when the sun':
rays fall upon it ? Though its life is but for a day, it hai
bloomed to the full extent of its endowment, and then
is nothing left. It is widely different from the thousanc
years of the fir-tree in length of time, but they are botl
alike in that they exhaust the command of Heaven [fulfi
their destiny] and are satisfied. This is what is mean
by the expression * a heart differing not from that o:
the fir-tree.' Doubtless Matsunaga wished that his hear
should become even like it, and therefore wrote this poen
of the morning-glory."
In the following passage, which contains echoes o
Taoist doctrines, Kius5 approaches very nearly to th(
idea of a personal Deity : —
" The Saden [an ancient Chinese book] says, ^ God ^ i<
uniformly intelligent and just.' It is his very nature t
^ Or *' the Gods." The Chinese and Japanese languages rarely distinguisl
between singular and plural. The concluding part of this extract, however
shows that Kiuso was thinking of a single Deity.
KIUSO 263
be so. Now while all men know that he is just, they do
not know that he is intelligent. Yet there is nothing of
so keen an intelligence as God. How is this ? Man
hears with his ears, and beyond their reach he hears
nothing though he were as quick of hearing as Shiko ;
he sees with his eyes, and beyond their range he can see
nothing, were he as sharp-sighted as Riro ; with his heart
he reflects, and, however swift his intuitions may be, still
this must involve delay. God borrows not the help of
ears or eyes ; nor does he waste time in reflection. With
him sensation is immediate, and is followed by immediate
responsive action. This, be it observed, is his nature, and
flows not from two or three, but from a single reality.
'^ But although there is in heaven and earth a some-
thing infinitely quick of hearing and infinitely sharp of
sight, independent of conditions of time or space, present
as if actually on the spot, passing to and fro without any
interval, embodying itself in all things which are, and
filling the universe, it has neither form nor voice, and is
therefore not cognisable by our senses. It is, however,
sensible to the Real and the True. As it feels, so it
responds. If there is no truth or reality, there can be
no response. If it did not feel, it would not respond.
The response is therefore a proof of its existence. That
which responds not, of course does not exist. What a
wonderful property for heaven and earth to possess !
" In the words of a stanza composed by priest Saigio
when he made a pilgrimage to the shrines of Ise —
' What it is
That dwelleth here
I know not;
Yet my heart is full of gratitude,
And the tears trickle down.'' "
264 JAPANESE LITERATURE
i
" Think not that God is something distant, but seek for
him in your own hearts ; for the heart is the abode of
God."
" To forsake all evil and follow good is the beginning
of the practice of our philosophy."
" The Way of the Sages is not sundered from matters
of everyday life."
"That which in Heaven begets all things is in man
that which makes him love his neighbour. So doub
not that Heaven loves goodness of heart and hates it
opposite."
" Has not bravery itself its root in goodness o
heart, and does it not proceed from sympathy ? It
is only when it arises from goodness that bravery is
genuine."
"Once when I was in Kaga I heard a man say,
*A11 faults whether great or small may be excused in
the eyes of the world upon repentance and amendment,
and leave behind no stain of deep-seated baseness
But there are two faults which are inexcusable, even
when repented of — theft, and the abandonment by a
Samurai of a post which he is bound to defend with his
life."
"Avarice and cowardice are the same. If a man is
stingy of his money, he will also grudge his life."
" To the Samurai first of all comes righteousness, next
life, then silver and gold."
Kiuso's righteousness and our righteousness are ap-
preciably though not essentially different. The former
approaches the Roman ideal more than the Christian.
He uses the word to describe the conduct of the forty-
seven Ronins, who, having avenged an insult to their
master which led to his death, by the murder of the
KIUSO 265
offender, then committed hara-kiri together. This inci-
dent occurred in Kiuso's own Ufetime. He consecrated
their memory in a booklet in the Chinese language
entitled Gi-jin-roktiy which, although not in itself a very
important contribution to history, has been the parent
of a whole literature. A later writer gives a list of one
hundred and one works relating to this subject, includ-
ing fiction and the drama. Mr. Mitford has told the
story in his Tales of Old Japan. It is highly characteristic
of the Yedo period of Japanese history.
It is not creditable to the Japanese Government of this
time, that although Kiuso presented the Shundai Zatsuwa
to his patron the Shogun in 1729, it was allowed to
remain unpublished until 1750, although all the while a
Hood of pornographic literature was being poured out
over the country without let or hindrance.
The modern literary language of Japan owes much to
the Kangakusha, more especially to those of the seven-
teenth and early eighteenth centuries. The older
Japanese of the Taiheiki was wholly inadequate for the
expression of the host of new ideas which were the off-
spring of the revival of learning and the reorganisation of
the State. The social changes and the marked advance
in civilisation and the arts which accompanied this
movement required a new vocabulary. Just as we
resorted to Latin and Greek to meet a similar want, the
Kangakusha enriched their language by the adoption
of large numbers of Chinese words. This process was
carried to great excess in later times. But writers like
Hakuseki and Kiuso were no pedants. They were
practical men who were accustomed to use their pens for
practical purposes, and who wrote to make themselves
understood, not to display their cleverness or learning.
266 JAPANESE LITERATURE
In their hands the Japanese language not only gained
much in fulness of vocabulary, but acquired a clearness
and directness unattainable with the more cumbrous
forms of the older language. Needless to say, pillow-
words, pivot-words, and all such frivolous excrescence^
of style were utterly disdained by them. \
CHAPTER III
THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
Popular Literature — Saikaku— Children's Stories
— Chikamatsu, and the Popular Drama
Concurrent with the movement described in the pre-
ceding chapter, another and very different development
of Hterature was going on in Japan. It was threefold,
comprising fiction, the drama, and a new kind of poetry
known as Haikai. But while the Kangakusha wrote
mainly for the Samurai class, the writers of romances,
plays, and Haikai addressed themselves for the first
time in Japanese history to the people. Their public
consisted more especially of the populace of the three
great cities of Yedo, Kioto, and Osaka. In Japan as
in China, the traders occupy a very low place both
morally and socially. Of the four classes into which the
population is divided, the Samurai, including men of
learning, soldiers, and officials of all grades, stand at the
top. Next to them are the peasants, the artisans come
third, and the merchants last of all. It cannot be denied
that there was much justice in this classification. Under
the Tokugawa regime the city populations enjoyed great
material prosperity. But their moral standards were not
high. Naturally quick-witted, and educated up to a point
which may fairly be described by our own slang phrase,
267
268 JAPANESE LITERATURE
1
" the three R's," they had little real culture or refine-
ment. The many-headed beast had, however, learned
to read, and demanded an intellectual pabulum suited
to its tastes. A want had been created which required
to be supplied. The result was a popular literature of
which some account must now be given.
The seventeenth century has not much to show in the
way of fiction. One of the earliest romances of this time
was the Mokuzu Monogatari^ a highly melodramatic tale of
love, jealousy, and revenge, the leading feature of which is
of such a nature as to debar more particular description.
The Usuyuki Monogatari and the Hannosuke no Sdshi
(1660) both relate the same story. A man while visiting
the temple of Kiyomidzu, in Kioto, meets a woman named
Usuyuki (thin-snow). They love and are united, but the
woman dies soon after, and the man shaves his head and
retires to a monastery.
Ibara Saikaku was the founder of a new school of
popular writing in Japan. He revived a class of com-
position which had been sadly neglected since the days
of Murasaki no Shikibu and Sei Shonagon, and gave to
the world a large number of volumes consisting of tales,
novels, and sketches of contemporary life and manners.
The latter are extremely lifelike and humorous. Sai-
kaku was a resident of Osaka, where he followed the
profession of composer of Haikai. The world has very
willingly forgotten his poetry. Nor have the short dra-
matic pieces which he wrote for the Osaka stage fared
much better with posterity. He was a man of no
learning. Bakin says that he had not a single Chinese
character in his belly,i and his books, most of which
have very little story, are mainly descriptions of the man-
^ The seat of knowledge, according to the Chinese and Japanese.
SAIKAKU 269
ners and customs of the great lupanars which then, as
now, formed a prominent feature of the principal cities
of Japan. The very titles of some of them are too gross
for quotation. The immoral tendency of his works was
denounced even in his own day by a hostile critic under
the suggestive title Saikaku 710 Jigoku Meguri ('' Saikaku
in Hell"), and led to their suppression by the Govern-
ment. It is only recently that a new edition has been
permitted to appear, the reason for this tolerance being
perhaps the circumstance that the fugitive humour of
fast life in the seventeenth century has become in a great
measure unintelligible to modern readers.
Saikaku has written one decent book, a collection of
gossipy stories about his fellow-writers of Haikai. It
is entitled Saikaku Nagori no Tonio^ and was published
posthumously in 1699. He died in 1693, in his fifty-
second year.
For various reasons it is impossible to give a really
characteristic specimen of Saikaku's writings. The fol-
lowing is a story of the Enoch Arden class, with a
Japanese ending. It is one of a series of tales woven
into a work entitled Fudokoro no Suzuri or '' Bosom Ink-
slab," a fanciful title for what we might call Notes of
Travel (1687). This work is less objectionable than most
of his productions : —
" Listening to the cries of the plovers that frequent
the Isle of Awaji, one may perceive the sadness of the
things of this world.
'^ Our junk anchored for the night in a harbour called
Yashima. A wretched place it was. With what eyes
could the poet have regarded it who called it *the
flowery Yashima ' ? Even though it was spring, there
were no cherry-flowers ; so, with feelings suited to an
270 JAPANESE LITERATURE
autumn eve, I approached a mat-roofed shed which
stood near the beach. There were some women
assembled here enjoying themselves over a cup of tea.
Usually it would have been a case of commonplace ill-
natured daughter-in-law gossip ; but judging from their
excited manners that something unusual was going on,
I inquired what was the subject of their important-seem-
ing conversation. It appeared that a fisherman of this
shore, by name Hokugan Kiuroku, was in the habit of
hiring himself annually for the sardine fishery off the
east coast. He usually went down there in company
with many others, but the previous autumn nobody else
came forward, and so he wilfully went alone. Time
passed and nothing was heard of him. Being an illiterate
man, he naturally held little communication with the
world, and thus became a cause of anxiety to his rela-
tions. That autumn there were many storms, and great
numbers of fishing-vessels were lost. All his family, when
they listened to the noise of the wind, lamented, ^ Ah !
Kiuroku is no more of this world.' Others talked as
if they had actually witnessed his end. There was a
rumour that two hundred and fifty men had perished in a
body in the outer sea, and all congratulated themselves
that owing to a presentiment of ill-luck they had this
year stayed at home. His wife hearing this, even in the
depth of her misery and sorrow, felt her condition still
more profoundly wretched. Morning and evening she
could think of nothing else, to such a degree that she
was on the point of throwing away her life. Thus she
gave proof of a gentle, womanly heart. Moreover, Kiu-
roku, in his capacity of iri-muko^ had been on excellent
terms with his wife, and had done his duty faithfully
^ Adopted heir and son-in-law.
SAIKAKU 271
towards her parents, so that when she remembered his
position, his loss was a source of great grief to her.
^^ Winter arrived, spring came and went, nearly a year
passed with no news of him. There could be no longer
any doubt that he was dead. The day on which he said
good-bye and left his native village was chosen for the
anniversary of his death. Priests said the proper masses,
his personal effects were restored to his true parents,
and, as is the way of the world, he began gradually to be
forgotten.
'^Now his wife was still young. People thought it a
pity she should remain a widow, and urged her to take a
second husband for the relief of her parents' cares, as was
the custom. But she could by no means be persuaded
to give her consent. She resolved by-and-by to shave
her head, to abandon the world, and with profound
' incense-and-fiowers ' purpose of heart to devote herself
to her husband's memory. Everybody did his best to
dissuade her, saying first of all how undutiful it would be
towards her parents. In short, they insisted with such
success that a lucky day was chosen for her nuptials.
The man selected for her husband was a fisherman of
the same village, named Iso no Mokubei, a far better
match than Kiuroku, and satisfactory in every respect.
The parents rejoiced, the friends exulted, and though it
was a second marriage, even in this fishing hamlet every-
thing was done in a style equal to that of the ceremony
of breeching a boy. The women had on their boxwood
hair-combs ; sake was circulated freely. But there are
jealous people everywhere, and the company were dis-
turbed from time to time by pebbles flung against the
door. As the night went on, this too ceased. The bride
and bridegroom retired to their chamber, and placing
272 JAPANESE LITERATURE
their wooden pillows side by side, began a confidentia,
talk, in which Kiuroku was naturally forgotten,
wedding company, fatigued with their enjoyment of
previous night, slept soundly late into the next morning
When the door was opened, there was Kiuroku in his
travelling garb. He walked in with an air of being at
home, his heart full of love for the wife he had not
seen for so long. He entered the disordered sleeping-
chamber, which was lighted up by a ray of sunshine
from the southern window. A feeling of pride came
over him when he caught a glimpse of his wife's hair,
which was more beautiful than ever. ^The prettiest
woman in this village,' he thought to himself. But
observing her companion, his dream was shattered. The
woman, too, waking from her joy, burst into tears, and
Mokubei came out, looking much embarrassed. With a
strange expression on his countenance, ' What is this ? '
asked Kiuroku. Mokubei explained what had happened,
laying the blame of this terrible misadventure on fate.
What made things worse was the presence of so many
people, and the fact that Mokubei had for a long time
been on bad terms with Kiuroku. But Kiuroku, showing
him a more friendly cheer than usual, collected himself
and related the story of his sufferings when cast away
on the remote sea. When he had done he calmly
stabbed his wife, cut down Mokubei, and with the same
sword put an end to himself. What a heroic winding-up
of the matter for a mere rustic ! " .
Children's Tales
To the fiction of the seventeenth century belong a
number of children's tales,^ which retain their popularity
1 Most of these have been translated by Mr. Mitford in his Ta/es of Old Japan,
POPULAR DRAMA 273
even at the present day, unless they have been swept
away of late years by the advancing tide of European
civilisation. Though they bear a general resemblance to
such stories as Cinderella, and appear in various forms,
I am inclined to think that they are not really folk-lore,
but had definite authors, whose names have long been
forgotten. The Nedzmni no Yomeiri ('' Rat's Wedding ")
dates from before 1661, while of the Saru-kani Kassen
(^* Battle of the Ape and the Crab ") and the Shitakiri
Suzume ("Tongue-cut Sparrow ") we have "new editions"
which bear the date of Hoyei (1704-1711). Others are
Momotaro (" Little Peachling "), Hana Sakaye Jiji (" The
Old Man who made Trees to Blossom "), Usagino Kataki-
uchi ("The Hare's Revenge"), and Urashima Taro (a
version of the legend told above, p. 39).
The novelist Bakin, a very competent authority on
folk-lore, was much interested in these tales, and has
been at the pains to ransack Chinese and Japanese litera-
ture for anything which might be thought to suggest the
incidents related in them.^
The Popular Drama— Chi kamatsu
It would not be quite correct to say that the popular
drama owed nothing to the No. But it certainly followed
a different and independent line of development. Its
literary progenitor is the Taiheikiy which, it may be re-
membered, was chanted or recited in public by men who
made this their profession. The Taiheiki was followed
by more or less dramatic stories, which were recited by
a single person seated before a desk, to the accompani-
ment of taps of a fan to mark the time or to give emphasis.
To this was subsequently added the music of the sami-
1 See his Yenseki Zasshi, vol. iv.
S
i
274 JAPANESE LITERATURE
sen, a three -stringed guitar recently introduced fron
Loochoo. A favourite story for this purpose was th
Jdruri jiu-ni dan Sdshiy written towards the end of thi
Muromachi period. It relates the loves of the famou
Yoshitsune with a heroine whose name, Joruri, is no\
used as a synonym for a whole class of dramatic com-
positions.
Towards the middle of the seventeenth century wi
hear of Joruri-Katari (chanters of Joruri) at Yedo, foi
whom two authors named Oka Seibei and Yonomiyj
Yajiro are said to have written a number of pieces
some of which, known as Kompira-boriy are still in ex-
istence. They relate the adventures of a hero namec
Kompira, nine feet two inches high, with a face so rec
that nothing could be redder, whose doughty deeds ir
quelling demons and slaying savage beasts are still th
delight of the Japanese schoolboy.
The first Kabuki Shibai, or popular theatre, as distin-
guished from the No Shibai, and from the Ayatsuri Shibai
or marionette theatre, is said to have been established a
Ki5to early in the seventeenth century. We are told tha
a priestess of the great temple of Kidzuki in Idzumo,
named O Kuni, having made the acquaintance of one
Nagoya Sanzaburo, ran away with him to Kioto. Then
they got together a number of dancing-girls and gav(
performances on the bank of the river Kamo, where th(
Theatre Street stands at the present day. O Kuni as J
priestess would naturally be acquainted with the panto
mimic dances performed in honour of the Shinto godsj
and was doubtless herself a trained dancer and mime
Owing to certain abuses, the employment of women a<
actors was put a stop to by the authorities. Their plac
was taken by boys, but this also was eventually prohibited,
CHIKAMATSU 275
A marionette theatre was next established. In 1661 it
was transferred to Osaka, where it was famous in sub-
sequent dramatic history as the Takemoto Za. The
marionette theatre is still popular in Japan. The puppets
are elaborate contrivances, fitted with machinery for
rolling the eyeballs, raising the eyebrows, opening and
closing the mouth, moving the fingers so as to grasp and
flirt a fan, and so on. The popularity of the Takemoto
Za procured it several rivals, the most celebrated of
which was the Toyotake Za.
The fame of the Takemoto Za was chiefly owing to the
genius of CHIKAMATSU MONZAYEMON, who is unquestion-
ably the most prominent figure in the history of the
Japanese drama. The birthplace of this remarkable
man has been as much disputed as that of Homer. The
most probable statement is that he was a Samurai of
Hagi, in Choshiu, where he was born in 1653. It is said
that in his boyhood he became a priest. He himself tells
us that he was a retainer of more than one noble house
in Kioto. For some reason his services ceased, and he
became a Ronin. The Ronin, that is, a Samurai who has
been dismissed for misconduct, or whose indocile temper
has found the severe discipline of the Yashiki irksome
beyond endurance, is a very familiar personage during
the Yedo period of Japanese history, not only in fiction,
but in real life. Countless deeds of desperate courage
and many atrocious crimes are related of them, among
which may be mentioned the well-known revenge of the
forty-seven Renins and their subsequent suicide, and the
murderous attacks on the British Legation in 1861 and
1862. In the early days of foreign intercourse with
Japan, Ronin was a word of fear to all quiet, law-abiding
people. It is significant that the principal playwright
276 JAPANESE LITERATURE
%
as well as the most eminent novelist (Bakin) of this
period should both belong to the ranks of these hommes
declasses.
After leaving the service of the Kioto nobles, Chika
matsu wrote a number of stories and pieces of no great
merit for dramatic performance at Kioto. One of these,
formerly attributed to Saikaku, is the Kaijin Yashima
which bears traces of a study of the older No drama and
Kiogen. Its subject is an episode in the life of Yoshit-
sune. Chikamatsu's earliest dated work was written in
1685. In 1690 he took up his residence in Osaka, when
his connection with the Takemoto marionette theatre
began. From this time until his death in 1724, he pro-
duced in rapid succession a number of dramas which,
whatever their faults, leave no doubt of his possessing a
fertile and inventive genius.
On a superficial examination of one of Chikamatsu's
plays, a European reader might fail to recognise the fact
that it is a drama at all, and take it for a romance with
rather more than the usual proportion of dialogue. All
the Joruri contain a large narrative element of a more or
less poetical character. This part of the play is chanted
to music by a chorus seated on a platform overlooking
the stage on the spectator's right, where also the persons
sit who declaim the speeches of the puppet actors. It is
the narrative part which is more especially designated by
the term Joruri. The chorus which recites it is the true
successor of the Joruri-Katari or dramatic reciters above
mentioned, and is the nucleus of the whole, the dialogue
being at first merely subsidiary. It not only supplies a
thread of story to connect the scenes represented by
the puppets on the stage, but aids the imagination of
the audience by describing expressions of countenance,
CHIKAMATSU 277
scenery, and much more that the resources of a theatre,
and especially of a marionette theatre, fail to convey.
On closer examination, however, it becomes apparent
that Chikamatsu's works are not really romances, but
stage-plays. They have a well-marked movement of
plot from the opening scene up to the final catastrophe ;
they abound in dramatic situations, and many of the
scenes are obviously designed with a view to spectacular
effect. These things were new in Japan, and to Chika-
matsu therefore belongs the credit of being the creator
of the Japanese drama.
Chikamatsu's plays are classified by the Japanese as
Jidai-Mono or historical plays, and Sewa-Mono or dramas
of life and manners. With the exception of a few in
three acts, they are all plays of five acts; but whether the
choice of this consecrated number had anything to do
with the fact that the Dutch were in the habit of visiting
the theatres of Kioto and Osaka on their periodical
journeys to Yedo to pay their respects to the Shogun, I
have not been able to ascertain. Nor is it possible to
verify a suspicion that the arrangements of the Japanese
popular theatre, with its capacious pit and galleries, and
a stage well furnished with scenery, trap-doors, turn-
tables (as in ancient Greece), and other appliances, may
owe something to hints given by these visitors. In these
respects the Japanese popular theatre is certainly far in
advance of any other in Asia, and more particularly of the
No Shibai above described.
Chikamatsu was a voluminous writer. The modern
edition of his selected works comprises fifty-one plays,
and runs to more than two thousand closely printed
pages. He is credited with the authorship of as many
more. Each is of about the same length as one of
■1
278 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Shakespeare's plays, so that they constitute a truly for-
midable bulk of literary matter. The novelist Kiodei
tells us that a three-act piece of his called Naga-niach\
onna Hara-kiri (" The Woman's Hara-kiriy" a gruesome
title) was written in a single night, and the statement]
whether true or not, bears testimony to the opinioi
entertained by his countrymen of his facility of comj
position. His works deal with all manner of subjects!
They show that he was well acquainted with the Shintc
and Buddhist religions, and that he possessed a wide
and varied knowledge of the history and institutions o;
Japan and China.
Of Chikamatsu's merits as a dramatist and poet
behoves a European writer to speak with some degree o;
reserve, more especially as it is impossible to read more
than a tithe of his works. The admiration of his owr
countrymen for him is unbounded, some of them going so
far as to compare him with Shakespeare. It is certainly
possible to trace resemblances. Both in Shakespean
and Chikamatsu, comedy frequently treads on the heelj
of tragedy ; in both, prose is intermixed with poetry, anc
an exalted style of diction suited to monarchs and nobles
alternates with the speech of the common people ; both
divided their attention between historical and other
dramas ; both possessed the fullest command of the re-
sources of their respective languages, and both are tainted
with a grosser element which is rejected by the more
refined taste of later times. It may be added that neither
Shakespeare nor Chikamatsu is classical in the sense in
which we apply that term to Sophocles and Racine.
Chikamatsu in particular is very far removed indeed from
the classical type.
But few such comparisons have any value, and it is
CHIKAMATSU 279
really idle to compare Shakespeare with a writer whose
portraiture of character is rudimentary, whose incidents
are outrageously extravagant and improbable, whose
philosophy of life is wholly wanting in originality or
depth, and who is constantly introducing scenes brutal
and revolting to a degree inconceivable to the Western
mind. Of this last blemish his audiences must share
the responsibility. Nothing seems to have given greater
pleasure to these smug, unwarlike shopmen and me-
chanics with their womankind (no Samurai with any
self-respect ever entered a theatre) than sanguinary com-
bats, and scenes of torture, suicide, and murder. They
loved to have their blood curdled, and their flesh made
to creep, and Chikamatsu, like other writers of his day,
took care to supply this demand in no stinted measure.
Defects like these are only partially compensated for by
a certain barbaric vigour and luxuriance which undoubt-
edly distinguishes his works. That such a writer should
hold the position of the prince of Japanese dramatists
only shows by what an imperfect standard this art is
judged in Japan.
It is difficult for a Western reader to understand the
esteem in which Chikamatsu is held by his countrymen
as a poet. In that part of his plays which is chanted
to music by the chorus we may, it is true, find metre,
rhythmical cadence, fit language, and play of fancy, but
all in a very modest degree. The metrical form adopted
by him is the usual alternation of seven and five syllable
phrases, which is even less substantial than our ordinary
blank verse, or the irregular, unrhymed lines favoured
by Southey. Nor does he adhere strictly even to
this. Longer or shorter lines are introduced from time
to time for no other apparent reason than the author's
28o JAPANESE LITERATURE
convenience. The rhythmical quahty of his poetry
unmistakable ; but, for reasons already pointed out, thj
Japanese language does not lend itself to any but th
simplest harmonies of this kind. A more serious blemisi
is the abundant use of pivot-words and other meretriciouj
ornaments, which are fatal to coherent sense, and de
structive to grammar. The general result is seldom sucl
as to satisfy a European taste.
It will nevertheless, I think, be found that Chikamatsu'
poetry, with all its faults, occupies an important plao
in the history of Japanese literature. The writers o
No had done something to extend the domain of th<
poetic art beyond the narrow limits prescribed b]
tradition : Chikamatsu continued their work, and tool
possession of, if he failed to reclaim, large tracts o
subject-matter which had been neglected by his prede
cessors. The older poetry may be compared to a trim
garden of a few yards square : Chikamatsu's Jorur
resembles a wide clearing in a forest where the pro^
ducts of a rude agriculture are seen growing amon|
tree-stumps and jungle.
Chikamatsu's most famous play is one which is entitlec
Kokusenya Kassen (17 15), or the " Battles of Kokusenya.'
Kokusenya (called Coxinga by older European writers
on Japan) was a famous pirate, the son of a Chinese by
a Japanese mother, who played a considerable part in
the wars of the last days of the Ming dynasty in China.
As this is considered the masterpiece of the greatest of
Japanese dramatists, it seems desirable to give an ana-
lysis of it here.
ACT I
The scene opens at the court of Nanking. The last of
the Ming Emperors is seen surrounded by his ministers.
CHIKAMATSU 281
An envoy from the King of Tartary appears, bringing
rich presents, which are piled up in the courtyard. He
makes a speech in which, on behalf of his master, he
asks for Kwasei, the favourite concubine of the Emperor,
so that he may make her his queen, and thus cement
friendship between the two powers.
The Emperor and his court are much disturbed by
this proposal, as Kwasei was just then expected to
give birth to an heir to the Ming throne. A traitor-
ous minister named Ri Toten urges its acceptance.
General Go Sankei rushes forward and protests in-
dignantly, ordering the Tartar King's presents to be
taken away. The Tartar envoy replies with spirit,
and is about to fling out of the Imperial presence,
when Ri Toten strives to pacify him. To enforce his
appeal, he digs out his own left eye with a dagger, and
hands it on an ivory slab to the envoy, who receives
it with respect, and accepts it in satisfaction for Go
Sankei's insult to his sovereign and himself. The envoy
takes his departure.
The next scene is in the apartment of the Emperor's
younger sister. The Emperor appears, accompanied
by two hundred youthful inmates of his harem, half of
whom bear branches of flowering plum and half of
cherry. They draw up on each side of the stage. The
Emperor tells his sister of Ri Toten's noble self-sacrifice,
and again urges the latter's suit for the hand of the
Princess, which had previously been rejected by her,
suggesting that her answer should depend on the result
of a battle between the plum and cherry squadrons of
ladies. The Princess agrees to this, and puts herself at
the head of the plum party, who, acting in collusion with
the Emperor, allow themselves to be defeated.
fil
282 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Go Sankei now rushes in, clad in full armour, and wi
his lance drives off both squadrons. He remonstrat
with the Emperor for setting an example in the palac
which, if followed by the people, would lead to disas
trous civil tumults, charges Ri Toten with treachery
and by an elaborate analysis of the Chinese writtei
character for Ming, the name of the dynasty, prove
that Ri Toten's digging out his eye was merely a privat
signal to the Tartar envoy that the time was ripe for th
execution of their treacherous schemes. The Empero;
scoffs at this learned sophistry, and kicks Go Sankei 01
the forehead with his Imperial foot.
From all sides there now comes a sound of conchj
drums, and battle shouts. The Tartars have arrived, am
are surrounding the palace. Their general rides into th
courtyard. He tells the Emperor that the Tartar King'
love for Kwasei was all a pretence, and that his rea
object was the destruction of the unborn heir to the
Ming throne. He avows Ri Toten's treacherous com
plicity, and announces to Go Sankei his intention o
carrying off the Emperor and Kwasei as prisoner^
and of making them serve as menials in his master'
kitchen.
Go Sankei's wife, Riuka, now appears with an infan
in her arms. She flies with the Princess by a posteri
gate, leaving her child behind. Go Sankei makes a sally
and with one hundred men drives off several millions o
the enemy. In his absence Ri Toten's younger brothefj
Ri Kaiho, murders the Emperor, cuts off his head, and
binds Kwasei. Go Sankei returns, cleaves Ri Kaiho in
two, releases Kwasei, and reverently sets up the Em-
peror's headless trunk, which he adorns with the heredi-
tary regalia. While he is hesitating whether to save the
CHIKAMATSU 283
lOinperor's body or the pregnant consort Kwasei, the
c iieiny renew their attack. Having beaten them off, he
resolves to save the unborn heir to the throne, and to
abandon the corpse.
Meanwhile his own infant child begins to cry for his
natural nourishment. *' What a nuisance ! " he ex-
claims. But on second thoughts he reflects that the
child is his own heir, and that it would be on the whole
better to save him. So he binds him firmly to the shaft
of his spear and retreats to the seashore with Kwasei,
pursued by the enemy. Kwasei is killed by a bullet,
and Go Sankei, by an improvised Cesarean operation
(coram populo /), rescues her living child, a beautiful boy,
which he wraps in his dead mother's sleeve. " But
stay ! if the enemy find that the child is gone, they will
spare no pains to discover it." So he stabs his own
child, who, it may be remembered, was all this time
lashed to the shaft of his spear, and substitutes it for
the infant Prince. Exit Go Sankei.
Enter Go Sankei's wife with the Princess. They hide
among the reeds by the seashore. A Tartar officer named
Godatsu follows in pursuit. He takes a small boat and
searches all the creeks near them. Riuka (Go Sankei's
wife) catches his oar and overturns his boat. He goes
to the bottom, and Riuka gets into the boat with the
Princess. Godatsu comes up from below all dripping,
and a combat ensues, in which Godatsu has his head cut
off by Riuka. Then, as in her bedraggled and blood-
stained condition she is no fit company for a princess,
she shoves off the boat containing the latter, which is
carried away by the wind and tide, and remains behind
on the shore. The chorus describes the situation in
poetical imagery.
284 JAPANESE LITERATURE
ACT II
The scene changes to Hirado, in Japan. Kokusenyj
with his wife, is gathering shellfish on the seashon
when a small boat approaches. It proves to contaii
the Princess, who had drifted over from China. Koki
senya''s wife, a low, vulgar woman, who provides th(
comic element of the play, is overcome with laughtel
at the Chinese which the Princess and her husband talk
Jealousy then gets the upper hand, but this gives wa)
to respect when she learns the rank of the stranger.
Kokusenya, who is the son of a trusted minister oj
the Ming Emperors, makes up his mind to restore tha'
dynasty, and proceeds with his father and mother tc
China, leaving the Princess in his wife's charge. Or
arriving there, they resolve to seek the assistance oi
Kanki, a Chinese magnate who had married a sister oi
Kokusenya. While travelling through a forest on their
way to his castle, Kokusenya bearing his aged mother
on his back, they fall in with a tiger. Disdaining to use
his sword against the beast, Kokusenya gains the mastery
over him after a struggle, which, doubtless, gave much
gratification to the " groundlings " of the Osaka theatre.
A hunting party arrives ; their leader claims the tiger for
Ri Toten, the traitorous one-eyed minister of the first act.
Kokusenya replies in a style of inimitable braggadocio.
With the tiger's assistance he subdues the huntsmen, and
forms of them the nucleus of an army with which to
conquer the Tartar invaders. Kokusenya's first care is
to cut off the pig-tails of his recruits, and to give them
new names, in which Japanese terminations are stuck
on to names indicative of their foreign origin. One of
CHIKAMATSU 285
these names is Igirisu (English)-bei. We may well wonder
what an Englishman was doing dans cette gaVere.
ACT III
Kokusenya, at the head of his newly recruited force,
arrives before Kanki's castle, but he is absent, and they
are refused admittance. The old mother, however, is
permitted to enter in the guise of a prisoner bound with
cords. Kanki returns. The old woman begs him
earnestly to espouse her son Kokusenya's cause. He
forthwith draws his sword and tries to kill his wife, but
is prevented. He then explains that he has not suddenly
gone mad, but that if he joined Kokusenya people would
say he was influenced by women, so it was necessary to
remove his wife as a preliminary to granting her request.
His wife being still alive, this was impossible.
News of this refusal being conveyed to Kokusenya,
he bounds over the moat and parapet of the castle,^ and
presents himself before Kanki. After mutual Homeric
defiance they prepare to fight, when Kanki's wife ex-
poses her breast, showing that in order to remove all
obstacle to the plans of her husband and brother, she
has given herself a death-wound. The two then frater-
nise, and a quantity of warlike gear is produced, m
which Kokusenya is clad, his mother looking on with
great admiration. She then commits suicide, enjoining
on her son and Kanki to show no weakness in fight-
ing against the Tartars, but to regard them as the
enemies of mother and wife. She dies with a smile
on her face, gazing at the gallant appearance of Koku-
senya in the new armour supplied him by Kanki.
1 Incidents like this remind us that it was a marionette theat- fo^^
Chikamatsu wrote. Puppets can do many things impossible to human actors.
286 JAPANESE LITERATURE
ACT IV
We now return to Go Sankei, who, at the end of the
first act, had retired to a secluded place among the hills,
with the heir to the Ming throne. Here follows a Rip vai
Winkle episode, at the end of which Go Sankei finds that
the young Prince has become a boy of seven, whos(
voice sounds to him " like the first song of the nightingale
heard in some secluded valley where snow still lies.'^
Kokusenya's father now appears upon the scene, accom-
panied by Kokusenya's wife and the Princess, who have
come over from Japan. Whilst they are giving mutual
explanations the enemy come in chase ; but the gods
having been prayed to, a cloud issues from a cave an(
forms a bridge, over which they cross an abyss to the
mountain on the other side. The enemy attempt to
follow, but the bridge is blown away by a puff of wind.
The five hundred foes tumble to the bottom and ard
crushed to pieces.
ACT V
Kanki, Kokusenya, and Go Sankei hold a grand council
of war, at which the most impossible nonsense is talked.
A letter arrives from Kokusenya's father, stating that
finding life at his age, seventy-three, not worth living,
he is about to find death in the enemy's ranks. The
three, full of determination to save him, rush off toi
Nanking, now the Tartar King's stronghold.
The scene changes to Nanking. Kokusenya's father
appears before the gate and challenges Ri Toten to single
combat. The Tartar King is seen on the battlements.
By his order the old man is seized and brought into
the city. Kokusenya and his party appear before the
CHIKAMATSU 287
walls. Ri Toten tells Kokusenya that he must choose
between his father committing hara-kiri or their both
going back to Japan. Consternation of Kokusenya
and his party. Speech by Kokusenya's father, remind-
ing him of his mother's dying injunctions, and adjuring
him not to think of his fate. Kokusenya is about to
spring at the Tartar King, but is deterred by Ri Toten
putting his sword to the old man's throat. Go Sankei
now throws himself at the feet of the Tartar King, offer-
ing to give up Kokusenya if the lives of the other two
were spared. No sooner has the Tartar King granted
this request than Go Sankei springs at him, knocks him
over, and binds him. Kokusenya also rushes forward,
releases his father, and seizes Ri Toten. The Tartar
King has five hundred blows of a bamboo administered
to him, and is sent off a prisoner to Japan. Ri Toten's
head is wrenched off there and then, and the play ends
amid general rejoicing.
A summary of this kind gives too much prominence
to the defects of this most famous of Japanese dramas.
Its manner is better than its matter. There is a copious
flow of sonorous and often picturesque language, of
exalted sentiment, and sententious oratory, which divert
the reader's (and still more the audience's) attention from
the improbabilities of the story. The personages do and
say many absurd things ; yet they speak and bear them-
selves in a manner not altogether unworthy of tragic
heroes. It may be added that even in his maddest
moods Chikamatsu never neglects dramatic force of
situation, and that he has a turn for impressive dialogue
which ought not to be ignored. Dulness is not among
the numerous faults of the Kokusenya Kassen.
The European reader is not likely to relish the more
2 88 JAPANESE LITERATURE
poetical passages of this drama, with their pivot-words
and closely woven allusive phrases. Yet possibly there
is more in them than we are willing to acknowledge
The Japanese find them the choicest part of the work
and they might not unreasonably deny to foreigners the
right to sit in judgment upon the finer raptures of their
national muse. As a poet Chikamatsu may readily be
allowed one merit : if Japan ever produces epic, drama-
tic, or long narrative poems of importance, he will have
done much to prepare the way.
The popularity of the Kokusenya Kassen with the
audiences of Osaka was so great as to call for two con-
tinuations in the same style, and it is still one of the
stock pieces of the Japanese theatre. j
Kabuki Theatre
Meanwhile a somewhat different development of the
dramatic art was taking place — chiefly at Yedo. Kabuki
theatres, which had men for actors, had been established
there before the middle of the seventeenth century. The;
pieces produced in these theatres were at first the com-
position of the actors engaged in them, but towards the
beginning of the eighteenth century ^ we hear of definite
authors whose works were published under the title
of Kyaku-bon. Native critics agree that the Kyaku-bon
contain little that is of value as literature. In form
they approach the European drama far more nearly
than do the Joruri. The dialogue is here all-important,
the chorus, with its narratives and poetical descriptions,
taking a subordinate position or being altogether wanting.
^ The first of the series ot great actors bearing the name of Ichikawa Dan-
juro made his debut on the stage in 1673. The present holder of that name is
the ninth of the line.
CHAPTER IV
POETRY OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY—
HAHCAI, HAIBUN, KIOKA
Haikai
It might naturally be supposed that in the Tanka of
thirty-one syllables poetry had reached its extreme limit
of brevity and conciseness. But a still further step
remained to be taken in this direction. In the sixteenth
century a kind of poem known as Haikai, which con-
sists of seventeen syllables only, made its appearance.
The Haikai is a Tanka minus the concluding fourteen
syllables, and is made up of three phrases of five,
seven, and five syllables respectively, as in the follow-
ing :—
" Fwii ike ya I
Kawadzu tobi-kotnu^
Midzu no otoJ"^
It differs from Tanka, however, in more than metre,
being much less choice in diction and matter than the
older kind of poetry. It admits words of Chinese deriva-
tion and colloquial expressions, and often deals with
subjects which the more fastidious Tanka refuses to
meddle with.
The earliest professor of this accomplishment was
Yamazaki So-kan, a Buddhist priest (1445-1534). The
289 X
290 JAPANESE LITERATURE
verses of his which 1 have met with have mostly a comi
character. Here is one : —
" Even in the rain, come fori h,
O midnight moon I
But first put on your hat^^
A halo is called in Japanese kasa, which also means
broad hat or umbrella.
Another early Haikai writer was Arakida Morital
(1472-1549). The following is from his pen : —
" Thought /, the fallen flowers
Are returning to their branch j
But lo / they were butterflies.^^
Coming down to the Yedo period, the first name
note in this department of literature is that of Matsunag
Teitoku (1562-1645). A well-known Haikai of his is th
following : —
" For all men
' Tis the seed of siesta —
The autumn moon.^^
In other words : The autumn moon is so beautiful th
people sit up half the night to gaze on it, and have thei
fore to make up for their want of sleep by a siesta dn t
following day.
If it were not, however, for the fame of Matsura Bash
(1643-1694) and his disciples, it would hardly be nece
sary to notice this kind of composition at all. He
ported a more serious element, and greatly refined ani
improved the Haikai, until it became a formidable riv;
to the Tanka. The latter had in these days become to
exclusive for the popular taste. The Fujiwara famil
who were its special patrons, practisers, and critic
BASHO 291
maintained the traditional canons of the art in all their
rigidity, and the nation was glad of a new and more un-
confined field for its poetical talent. To write tolerable
Tanka required a technical training, for which the many
had neither time nor opportunity, but there was no-
thing to prevent any one with ordinary cleverness and
a smattering of education from composing Haikai.
Saikaku, an unlearned man, is said to have produced
twenty thousand stanzas of this kind of poetry during
one day's visit to the shrine of Sumiyoshi, and to have
received on that account the cognomen of ^' the twenty-
thousand old man." The story is an obvious exaggera-
tion, but it shows what an easy thing Haikai writing was
thought to be.
Basho belonged to a Samurai family, hereditary re-
tainers of the Daimio of Tsu, in the province of Ise. He
acquitted himself with credit in an official capacity con-
nected with water-works in Yedo, but for some reason
threw up his appointment and entered the Buddhist
priesthood. He built himself a cottage in the P'ukagawa
district of Yedo, and planted a banana-tree beside the
window. It grew up and flourished, and from it he took
the name of Basho (banana), by which he is known to
posterity. He was a diligent student of the Zen Buddhist
doctrines and of Taoism, and was also an artist. From
time to time he took long excursions to the remotest
parts of Japan, leaving behind him traces of his presence,
which remain to this day, in the shape of stones inscribed
with poems of his composition. On one of these jour-
neys he took suddenly ill, and died at Osaka in the
fifty-first year of his age.
Shotei Kinsui relates the following incident which hap-
pened on one of Basho's tours. It illustrates the favour
f
292 JAPANESE LITERATURE
in which Haikai was held even by the lowest classes oj
the people : —
Once, when on his travels, Basho passed through a
certain rural district, making Haikai as he went alona
It was full moon. The whole sky was flooded with light
so that it was clearer than noonday. It was so brigh
that Basho did not think of seeking an inn, but continue(
his journey. In a certain village he came upon a part
of men who had brought out sak6 and something to ea
with it into the open air, and were enjoying the moon
light. Basho stood still to watch them. Presently the;
fell to composing Haikai. Basho was greatly pleased t(
see that this elegant accomplishment was practised evei
in so remote a place, and continued looking on, when 5
silly fellow of the party noticed him and said, *' There i:
a priest who looks like a pilgrim. He may be a begging
priest, but, never mind, let us invite him to join us.'
They all thought this would be great fun. Basho coulc
not refuse, so he joined their circle, taking the lowes
seat. The silly fellow then said to him, ^^ Everybody
here is bound to compose something about the full moon
You must compose something too." Basho apologised
He said he was a humble individual, belonging to
country place. How should he presume to contribute
to the entertainment of the honourable company ? He
begged, therefore, that they would kindly excuse him.
" No ! no ! " said they, '^ we can't excuse you. Good or
bad, you must compose one verse at least." They urged
him until at last he consented. Basho smiled, folded his
arms, and turning to the clerk of the party, said, " Well,
I will give you one : —
' ^Twas the new moon
BASHO 293
" The new moon ! What a fool this priest is ! " cried
one. '' The poem should be about the full moon." " Let
him go on," said another ; " it will be all the more fun."
So they gathered round, and mocked and laughed at
him. Basho paid no attention, but went on —
" ' Twas the new moon !
Since then I watted—
A nd lo ! io-nij^ht !
[/ have my reward^
The whole party were amazed. They took their seats
again and said, *^ Sir, you can be no common priest to
write such a remarkable verse. May we ask your name ? "
Basho smilingly replied, " My name is Basho, and I am
travelling about on a pilgrimage for the sake of practis-
ing the art of Haikai." The rustics, in great excitement,
apologised for their rudeness to an eminent man " whose
fragrant name was known to all the world." They sent
for their friends who were interested in Haikai, and
began their alfresco feast anew in his honour.
It has been objected that Haikai, even in the hands of
an acknowledged master like Basho, is too narrow in its
compass to have any value as literature. The Kanga-
kusha Dazai Shuntai calls it a tsutanaki mono (a stupid
sort of thing), and Shotei Kinsui admits that in the eyes
of ^' the superior man " this is doubtless so. Its popu-
larity, however, is undeniable. The name of Basho was
known to the very cow-herds. He had ten disciples, and
they in their turn had pupils whose name is legion.
Monthly conferences of Haikai amateurs were held
regularly both in the capital and the provinces, and there
were professors who contrived to make a living by
practising this art.
294 JAPANESE LITERATURE
1
It would be absurd to put forward any serious claim
on behalf of Haikai to an important position in literature.
Yet, granted the form, it is difficult to see how more could
be made of it than Basho has done. It is not only the
metre which distinguishes these tiny effusions from prose.
There is in them a perfection of apt phrase, which often
enshrines minute but genuine pearls of true sentiment
or pretty fancy. Specks even of wisdom and piety may
sometimes be discerned upon close scrutiny. Sugges-
tiveness is their most distinctive quality, as may be seen
by the following : —
"^ cloud of flowers I
Is the bell Uyeno
Or Asakusa ? "
To the English reader this will appear bald, and even;
meaningless. But to an inhabitant of Yedo it conveys
more than meets the ear. It carries him away to his
favourite pleasure resort of Mukojima, with its long lines
of cherry-trees ranged by the bank of the river Sumida,
and the famous temples of Uyeno and Asakusa in the
vicinity. He will have no difficulty in expanding it into
something of this kind : ^' The cherry-flowers in Muko-
jima are blossoming in such profusion as to form a cloud
which shuts out the prospect. Whether the bell which
is sounding from the distance is that of the temple of
Uyeno or of Asakusa I am unable to determine."
But brevis esse laboraty obscurus fit, A very large pro-
portion of Basho's Haikai are so obscurely allusive as to
transcend the comprehension of the uninitiated foreigner.
The following are some of the more lucid. The same
quality of suggestiveness pervades them all.
BASHO 295
'•^ An ancioii po7td!
With a sound fro7n the water
Of the frog as it plunges in^^
" / cotne weary ^
In search of an inn —
Ah I these wistaria flowers I "
" Ah ! the waving lespedeza^
Which spills not a drop
Of the clear dew!"
" ' Tis the first snow —
fust enough to bend
The gladiolus leaves ! "
''OfMiidera
The gate I would knock at—
The moon of to- day ^^
That is to say, How beautiful the scenery about the
temple of Miidera must look on a fine moonlight night
like this ! I would that I were there to see it.
" On a withered branch
A crow is sitting
This autumn eve"
" The cry of the cicada
Gives no sign
That presently it will die"
The following are by other writers : —
'■^^ Tis the cuckoo —
Listen well I
How much soever gods ye be'"
" ^Tis the first snow.
Yet some one is indoors —
Who can it be?''
" The club-shaker's
Rising and falling in the water
Until it becomes a musquito"
296 JAPANESE LITERATURE
1
The water-grub, which subsequently becomes a mus-
quito, moves about by the rapid vibration of its tail.
Hence the name *' club-shaker." To the Japanese it is
an emblem of the mischievous boy who is destined to
develop into a wicked man.
" O ye fallen leaves !
There are far more oj you
Than ever I saw growing on the trees ! "
^^ Alas! the width of this musguito-?iet
Which meets my eye when I wake
And when I lie down"
The following characteristic specimen of this kind oi
poetry is quoted in Mr. B. H. Chamberlain's Handbooi
of Colloquial Japanese : —
^^ Asagao ni
Tsurube torarete,
Morai-mizu ! "
Literally, '* Having had my well-bucket taken away by
the convolvuli, — gift-water ! " The meaning, as Mr.
Chamberlain not unnecessarily explains, is this: *'The
poetess Chiyo, having gone to her well one morning to
draw water, found that some tendrils of the convolvulus
had twined themselves around the rope. As a poetess
and a woman of taste, she could not bring herself to
disturb the dainty blossoms. So, leaving her own well
to the convolvuli, she went and begged water of a
neighbour. A pretty little vignette surely, and expressed
in five words."
Haibun
The Haibun is a kind of prose composition which
may be conveniently mentioned here, as it is a sort of
HAIBUN 297
satellite of the Haikai, and aims at the same conciseness
and suggestiveness. The most noted writer of Haibun is
YOKOI Yayu (1703-1783), a high official of Nagoya, in
Owari. He is the author of the much admired apologue
which follows : —
"An earthen vessel, whether it be square or round,
strives to adapt to its own form the thing which it
contains : a bag does not insist on preserving its own
shape, but conforms itself to that which is put into it.
Full, it reaches above men's shoulders ; empty, it is folded
up and hidden in the bosom. How the cloth bag which
knows the freedom of fulness and emptiness must laugh
at the world contained within the jar !
O thou bag
Of moo f I and flowers
Whose form is ever changing I "
In other words : How much better it is to yield our
hearts to the manifold influences of external nature, like
the moon and flowers, which are always changing their
aspect with the weather and the season, than, self-con-
centrated, to try to make everything conform to one's
own narrow standard !
KlOKA
Kioka (literally " mad poetry ") is a comic and vulgar
variety of Tanka. There is here an absolute freedom
both in respect to language and choice of subject. The
Kioka must be funny, that is all. In this kind of poetry,
of which an immense quantity was produced during the
Yedo period, the punning propensity of the Japanese has
been allowed full scope. Share (pronounced " sharry ")
reigns there supreme. Share is one of those numerous
298 JAPANESE LITERATURE
1
Japanese words for which there is no exact English
equivalent. It may be translated " wit/' but in order to
express its full meaning a spice of what is comprehended
under the terms gaiety, esprit, playful fancy, stylishness,
must be added. Japanese wit, like that of other countries,
has an element which defies analysis or classification.
But the jeu'de-mots predominates. Share infests not
only the Kioka, but the drama and fiction, to an extent
well-nigh intolerable to European tastes. Dr. Florenz,
Professor of Philology in the Imperial University of
Tokio, has treated this subject with truly German con-
scientiousness and erudition in a paper read before the
German Asiatic Society of Japan in July 1892. Follow-
ing a native investigator named Tsuchiko Kaneshiro,
he classifies share under two heads with divisions and
subdivisions, making in all twenty different kinds. Our
old enemy the pivot-word is here, also the pillow-word,
and several varieties of the ordinary pun, with various
fearfully complicated acrobatic contortions of speech
which I shall not attempt to describe. Even the reader
who has a competent knowledge of the language requires
a special study to understand and appreciate them. He
follows these far-eastern waggeries with a halting step,
and frequently finds himself in the position of the
Scotchman who was heard suddenly to burst into
laughter at a joke which had been made half-an-hour
before. Nothing testifies more strikingly to the nimble-
ness of the Japanese apprehension than their delight in
these '^ Taschenspielerkunstchen des sprachlichen Aus-
drucks" (linguistic prestidigitations), as Dr. Florenz has
aptly called them, whether in conversation or in books.
It may be doubted whether such an excessive fondness
for mere verbal wit does not amount to a disease, and
MODERN LYRICS 299
whether it has not constituted a serious obstacle to the
development of higher qualities in their literature.
In quite recent times a popular kind of lyrical poetry
has come into fashion which somewhat resembles the
ancient Naga-uta in form. The following may serve as a
specimen : —
" Vain has been the dreiun
In which I thought that we met;
Awake ^ I find myself again
In the darkness
Of the wretched reality.
Whether I try to hope
Or give way to gloomy thought^
Truly for my heart
There is no relief.
If this is such a miserable world that I may not meet thee^
Oh / let 7ne take up my abode
Deep in the far mountains^
And deeper still
In their furthest depths^
Where, careless of men^s gaze,
I may think of my love!'
CHAPTER V
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY
Kangakusha — Fiction— J isHo and Kiseki — Jitsuroku-
MONO — Wasobioye— Popular Drama
Kangakusha
The pursuit of Chinese studies reached its height in the
eighteenth century. In its early years Hakuseki, Kiuso,
and other distinguished men of letters still lived and
wrote. They had numerous successors, who continued
to bring out volume after volume of commentaries on
the Chinese classics, works on government, the art of
war, history, finance and political economy, ethics,
metaphysics and religion, under which the shelves of
Japanese libraries are groaning at this day. But, as the
Heike Monogatari says, "that which flourishes must
also decay." After the philosophers came the sophists.
Japan had little more to learn from the Chu-Hi philo-
sophy, and the renewed study of the ancient Chinese
literature which it had promoted. The impulse derived
from these sources had spent its force, though it con-
tinued to be indirectly felt in other departments of
literature than the writings of the Kangakusha.
In the eighteenth century the Chu-Hi philosophy was
no longer so universally recognised as the unquestioned
300
KANGAKUSHA 301
standard of doctrine. Even in the preceding century
there had been heretics, vigorously denounced by Kiuso,
who followed the teachings of Wang Yangming/ a
Chinese thinker who *' endeavoured to substitute an
idealistic intuitionalism for the scientific philosophy of
Chu-Hi." Another heretic was Ito Jinsai (1627-1705), who
was one of the founders of a new sect known as the
Kogakusha, which set aside Chu-Hi's exposition of the
Chinese classics, and sought to base a system of philo-
sophy on the direct study of the works of Confucius.
His son Togai (1670-1736), a distinguished scholar, fol-
lowed in the same track as well as the still more eminent
Ogiu Sorai (i 666-1728). Togai was the author of Yuken
Shoroku and Hyosokii-dan^ collections of miscellaneous
writings in the Japanese language ; and Sorai is remem-
bered for his Seidan ('^Talk on Government") andiVarw-
beshi, both of which are in Japanese. Dazai Shuntai, also
a heretical philosopher, was the author of a work on
finance called Keizairoku^ and of a volume of desultory
essays, in a plain, straightforward style, entitled Dokugo
(^' Soliloquy "), which is much esteemed. All these were
voluminous writers in the Chinese language.
Meanwhile the Chu-Hi or orthodox school of philosophy
was not without its champions, and a war of contending
sects arose whose wrangles disturbed Japan until the end
of the century. The intolerance of all classes of Kanga-
kusha for Buddhism, and the aversion and contempt of
the Wagakusha (or students of the native learning and
religion) for Chinese scholars and Buddhists alike, helped
to increase the turmoil and confusion. Towards the end
1 c.
See Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. xx. p. 12 ; also
Dr. Knox's translation of Nakai Tojiu's Okina Mondo, in vol. ii. of the
Chrysantheinuni.
302 JAPANESE LITERATURE
of the century this state of things became so unbear-
able that the reigning Shogun, lyenari, was driven to
apply a partial remedy. He prohibited all philosophical
teaching whatever other than that of Chu-Hi and his
adherents. I
The Kangakusha, by their excesses and extravagances,
were themselves responsible for the decay of their in-
fluence. Their admiration for things Chinese passed al
reasonable bounds. Sorai, for example, spoke of himseli
as an " Eastern barbarian/' and Chinese standards were
blindly accepted as unquestionable rules of conduct both
in private and public matters.
In the world of literature the most noticeable result ol
the Kangakusha craze (for such it ultimately became]
was the neglect of Japanese composition. For al
serious writings Chinese was preferred, and it was only
for their lighter and more carelessly written works thai
these scholars condescended to use their own language,
The native style was for a long time left mainly to the
writers of fiction.
JlSHO AND KiSEKI
At the beginning of the eighteenth century there was
at Kioto a bookseller and publisher whose place of busi-]
ness was known as the Hachimonjiya or *^ Figure-of-
eight-house." The principal of this establishment was]
also an author, and in that capacity signed himseli
JiSHO (spontaneous laughter). Associated with him>
was a writer who styled himself Kiseki. Kiseki was a]
broken-down tradesman of Kioto, the heir of a long]
line of shopkeepers who had amassed wealth by the sale
of a kind of sweetmeat or cake. Such part of their sub-
stance as had descended to him he wasted in riotous
JISHO AND KISEKI 303
living, and was at last compelled to resort to authorship
for a subsistence. At first Kiseki allowed his works to
be published in Jisho's name ; but as their popularity
became established, he insisted on his own name also
appearing on the title-page. Ultimately author and
publisher quarrelled, and Kiseki opened an independent
establishment, where a good number of his works were
brought out. Some go so far as to say that Jisho never
wrote anything, but that the books which bear his signa-
ture were in all cases really the work of Kiseki or other
needy authors, whom he paid for their services. What-
ever may have been the relations between them, the two
names Jisho and Kiseki are constantly associated by the
Japanese, just as we speak of Erckmann-Chatrian or
Besant and Rice.
Kiseki died about 1736, in his seventieth year, and
Jisho in 1745, at an advanced age. In a preface to his
last published work, the latter commends to the favour
of the public his son Kisho and his grandson Zuisho, who
were authors of writings of a similar character to those
for which the Hachimonjiya had acquired its reputa-
tion. One of these, printed in 1746, contains a catalogue
of one hundred and three publications of this notorious
press. The names of a considerable proportion are
sufficiently indicative of their character. They are por-
nographic novels, tales, or sketches. Even when the
title is a harmless one, the reader after a few pages is
pretty sure to find himself introduced to one of the
Kuruwa or brothel-quarters of Kioto or elsewhere, and
the manners and customs of these places furnish a large
part of the subject-matter.
There is a reason, if not an excuse, for the prevailing
choice of this unsavoury topic by Japanese writers of
304 JAPANESE LITERATURE
fiction during the Yedo period. There was no social
intercourse to speak of between men and women of the
better class. Whenever reasons of economy did not
stand in the way, the women lived a very secluded life,
seeing no men but their near relations. Their marriages
were arranged for them, and romantic attachments were
extremely exceptional. The manners and customs of
the respectable classes of society were therefore not a
promising field for the writer of fiction. He preferred
the freer atmosphere of the Kuruwa, to which pretty
gardens and handsome buildings, with the showy educa-
tion and gay costumes of their inmates, lent a superficial
appearance of elegance and refinement. The element of
romance in the lives of these women was perhaps small,
but it existed, and it was far more natural to credit them
with romantic adventures and passions than their more
immaculate sisters. And if the novelist's description of
these places as the home of wit and jollity, and the
natural resort of all young men of spirit and fashion,
had a tendency to corrupt public morals, it is also to
be remembered that the class of readers whom he
addressed were not particular in these matters. It was
a case of populus vult corrumpiy et corrumpitur.
The most famous of the Hachimonjiya publications is
a work entitled Keisei Kintanki (171 1). Jisho's name
appears on the title-page, but it is probably one of those
which w^ere really written by Kiseki. It is not a novel,
but a debate on a subject of which I must renounce the
attempt to give an idea. In so far as mere words go,
there are more objectionable works, but the whole atti-
tude -of the author is profoundly immoral. What is
specially unpardonable is his irreverent use of terms
borrowed from the Buddhist religious vocabulary, and
JISHO AND KISEKI 305
the scandalous way in which here and elsewhere the
great names of Japanese history are dragged by him
through the mire. Its humour, however, is undeniable.
A somewhat less objectionable work is the Oyaji Katagi
or ^^ Types of Elderly Men," by Jisho and Kiseki. It is
a series of racy, lifelike sketches of " The Gourmand,"
"The Devotee," "The Valetudinarian," "The Patron of
Wrestlers," with others which need not be specified.
This was followed by a number of similar works, such
as Musuko Katagi ("Types of Youths"), Tedai Katagi
("Types of Merchants' Assistants"), Musume Katagi
("Types of Girlhood"). The last-named work has a
preface, which makes what I have no doubt is a sincere
profession of the most unexceptionable moral aims.
The Kokusenya Minchd Taiheiki, by Kiseki, is a version,
with variations, of Chikamatsu's well-known play. The
practice of novelising dramas is more common in Japan
than the reverse process. As has been already explained,
there is far less difference between these two forms of
composition than in European literature.
The Furiu Guntpai Uchiwa is a romance of the olden
time, related in the Hachimonjiya manner. Other
romances are the Shdnin Guntpai Uchiwa (Kiseki, N. D.),
Furiu Saikai Suzuri, and Furiu Tokai Suzuri.
It is not easy to discover in the works of these writers
passages which are suitable for quotation in these pages.
The following is an outline of a story from the Zen-aku
Mimochi Ogiy or " Good and Evil Conduct Fan," a series
of moral tales, signed by Jisho and Kiseki: —
"Piety has its Reward"
There was once an ink-maker of Nara, named Kuro-
suke (Blackie), tolerably well off, but not rich. He was
3o6 JAPANESE LITERATURE
a very pious man, and went every day to the shrine c
Kasuga, near that city, to pay his devotions. One daj
as he went to make his usual morning prayer, he met
white-haired man in the garb of a Shinto priest, who tol
him that on his way home he would find a reward of hi
piety at the great Torii (Shinto archway) leading to th
shrine. He accordingly found there a purse of fift
gold kobans. He took it home, intending to advertis
it, and so give the loser an opportunity of making
claim. Meanwhile Kurosuke heard a sound of grea
lamentation which proceeded from the house of a neigh
hour. It appeared, on inquiry, that the father of th
family had gone security for a friend who had abscondec
leaving him liable for a sum of one hundred rios. It wa
totally impossible for him to raise this amount. Th
creditor offered to take thirty, but even this sum wa
far beyond his means. His daughter (the experience
reader of Japanese novels knows what is coming) the:
offered to let herself be sold to a Kuruwa in order t
provide the needful money, and an establishment of thi
kind, far away in Chikuzen, was selected, so as to lessei
the family disgrace as much as possible. It was th
lamentation at her approaching departure which hai
drawn Kurosuke's attention. He concluded that wit
the gift of the gods he could not do better than releas
this unhappy household from their difficulty. So h
paid the thirty rios, and returning home, deposited th
balance of the money in the domestic shrine and wen
about his business. Now his wife, of whom he had mad
a confidante, was a foolish woman. She took it int
her head that her husband had stolen the money. Fu
of this idea, she must needs let their landlord know c
her suspicions. And so from one to another the matte
JISHO AND KISEKI 307
became public property. Kurosuke was arrested, and
although he told the true story over and over again,
nobody believed him. The authorities directed that he
should be detained in custody until the loser of the
money should appear to corroborate his statement. At
last the original owner came forward. She was a young
widow from a distance, who had meant it for the erection
of a stone lantern in front of the shrine, in memory of
her deceased husband, and on her relating the circum-
stances of its loss, Kurosuke was at once released. He
obtained the magistrate's permission to divorce his wife
for her treacherous conduct, and married the widow.
They adopted the young girl who had been saved from a
life of shame, and were happy and prosperous ever after,
leaving children and grandchildren who handed down
their name. This true story is told to this day as an
example of the saying that ** piety has its reward."
The Hachimonjiya continued its activity until the end
of the eighteenth century. Meanwhile other houses had
sprung up, first at Kioto and subsequently at Yedo, to
supply the public demand for literature of this kind.
Their publications, known as share-bon^ or witty books,
were of so outrageous a character that the Government
at last (in 1791) interfered, and visited both authors and
publishers with severe but not unmerited punishment.
Non ragioniam di lor.
With all their faults, Jisho and Kiseki must be pro-
nounced the truest representatives for their time of the
characteristic qualities of the Japanese national genius.
They fill an important place in the history of Japanese
Uterature, continuing the tradition of Saikaku by their
graphic and humorous descriptions of real life and
manners, while they far excelled him in culture and
3o8 JAPANESE LITERATURE
literary ability. They have been called realistic writer
by some native critics, and when we think of the extrava
gant and unreal romances so much in vogue at a latd
period, they must be admitted to have considerable claii
to the title. But in fidelity to the facts of everyday Hi
and actual human nature, unsophisticated by superfinj
Chinese ethical notions, they fall short of some of theii
successors. Their works are by no means uniform
this respect, and some of them contain a large elemei
of romance.
" JiTSUROKU-MONO"
In the Heike Monogatari and Taiheiki we have seel
examples of what may be called "history paraphrased]
The authors of similar works in the eighteenth centui
went a step further. They treated real personages ani
events with still greater freedom, and thus produce!
what, notwithstanding the name Jitsuroku-mono ("Truj
Record"), was in reality closely akin to the historical nove(
Their favourite themes are battles and vendettas, warlil
exploits, and the disorders which from time to time di«
turbed the peace of the Daimios' Governments. Theij
style is for the most part plain and unadorned, but nc
without a certain naive charm, and their works are stil
popular, although the authors' names have long beei
forgotten.
Among the principal works of this kind may be men^
tioned the Okubo Musashi Yoroz) Onna Taiheikiy Mikawi
Go Fudokiy Taikokiy and the Oka Seidan. The Taikokt
written in the early years of this century, relates th(
history of the famous soldier and statesman Hideyoshi ii
a highly imaginative fashion and at enormous lengthJ
It is to be distinguished from the earlier Taikoki alread]
JITSUROKU-MONO 309
noticed, and from subsequent works with the same or
similar titles.
An even more popular work was the Oka Seidan^ which
purports to be a collection of causes celebres tried by a
judge named Oka Echizen no Kami, famous for his
impartiality and acumen. He was Machibugio or civil
governor of Yedo, a post which carried with it high judi-
cial powers, under the Shogun Yoshimune, in the early
part of the eighteenth century.
The Oka Seidan consists of forty-three stories, some
of which are founded on fact, though the hand of the
romancist is readily distinguishable in all. It may be
cordially recommended to European students for its
simple, unpretentious style, which is entirely free from
the irritating tricks of the writers of superfine Japanese.
The most interesting of the stories related in this bulky
volume is the first. It is an account of an attempt by a
scoundrelly young Buddhist priest, named Tenichi Bo,
to pass himself off on the Shogun ^ as a son of his by a
woman whom he had known in his youth. In order to
carry out this design, he and his accomplices commit some
forty murders and other crimes. By means which recall
the devices of a famous claimant of our own day, they
persuade the merchants of Osaka and Kioto to advance
them large sums of money wherewith to furnish Tenichi
Bo with an outfit suitable to his supposed station. He
then proceeds to Yedo with a train of several hundred
followers, and takes up his residence there in a handsome
yashiki, built specially for his reception from the funds
supplied by his deluded adherents. The Shogun is
strongly inclined to recognise him ; but Judge Oka, at
the imminent risk of receiving an invitation to commit
1 Arai Hakuseki's patron, Yoshimune.
3IO JAPANESE LITERATURE
hara-kiri J urges caution. He ultimately succeeds in trac-j
ing out, by his detectives, the whole history of Tenichij
Bo's criminal career, and the story ends dramatically with'
the arrest, exposure, and execution of the chief culprits.
It is true in all its more important features.
The Jitsuroku-mono were suppressed by the Shogun's
Government in 1804, as containing matter injurious to
the fame of lyeyasu, the deified founder of the dynasty,
and his lieutenants. At the same time all mention oi
real personages belonging to the military caste who livec
after 1573 was prohibited in works of fiction. ThQ Jitsu
roku-mono continued, however, to be read in manuscripts
which formed a substantial part of the stock of the circu
lating libraries.
"Wasobioye" (1774)
Wasobioye is a sort of Japanese Gulliver. The here
drifts out to sea from the port of Nagasaki in a fishing-
boat, and reaches the Land of Perennial Youth and Life
the Land of Endless Plenty, the Land of Shams, anc
finally the Land of Giants, meeting with numerous
adventures, which are related with no little humour
This work has not been treated as a very important con-
tribution to Japanese literature. Mr. Chamberlain, whc
has translated the best part of it for the Transactions q,
the Asiatic Society of Japan^ speaks of it as of no par
ticular importance or celebrity, and the native writers o
literary history take no notice of it whatever. It appears
to me that it is deserving of a more favourable judgment
and I confess that I prefer it to the more celebrated worl
suggested by it, namely, the Musdbidye of Bakin. I tran
1 Vol. vii. (1879).
WASOBIOYE 311
scribe from Mr. Chamberlain's version a passage which
will give some idea of its character : —
'' Now you must know that, as in this country there
were no such phenomena as death and disease, none of
the people knew what death or disease felt like, though
they were much given to speculating on the subject.
Some few volumes of the Buddhist Scriptures that had
been brought over in ancient times from India and China,
described heaven in such glowing terms that they were
filled with quite a desperate admiration for death, and
distaste for their own never-ending existence, so much so
that when, as a rare exception, any of their countrymen
chanced to die, he was envied in the same manner as in
Japan would be envied one who should have obtained
immortality. They studied the ^ art of death ' as it were
the art of magic, retiring to mountain districts and
secluded valleys, where they subjected themselves to all
manner of ascetic privations, which, however, rarely
obtained for them the desired effect. In the matter of
food, all such articles as ginseng, wild potatoes, eels, wild
duck, &c., which increase the action of the kidneys, and
strengthen the spleen and stomach, were feared and
avoided as being poisonously life-giving ; whereas what
people of rank and consideration highly prized and de-
lighted in were such viands as were likely to cause the
eater's death. Thus mermaids were unusually cheap
and plentiful — plentiful as cuttle-fish on the coast of
Idzumi — and you might see slices of them piled up on
dishes, as well as whole ones hanging from the eaves of
every cook-shop. But nobody who was anybody would
touch with the tips of his fingers a fish so apt to poison
you to life, and it was accordingly left to the lowest
of the populace. The globe-fish was much esteemed.
312 JAPANESE LITERATURE
commanding a high price, and a favourite dish to set
before the most honoured guests was a broth made of
this fish powdered over with soot. These would not, of
course, in this Land of Perennial Youth and Life, actually
kill a man. But still the poison would have a certain
slight effect, making him feel giddy for half-an-hour or
so, and giving him sensations as pleasurable as that experi-
enced by us Japanese after drinking rice-beer. ^Ah,' he
would exclaim, ^ this is what death must feel like ! ' and he
would clap his hands and dance and sing, and believe
himself to have attained the very acme of felicity. If, in
trying to say something flattering about a friend's child,
a caller were to remark on its apparent healthiness, both
father and mother would remember his words with un-
easiness ; whereas, if he should say, ' The little thing
doesn't look as if it would live long,' he would give the
parents the greatest pleasure, and they would reply,
' Ah, if only what you say may come true ! ' "
Popular Drama
The eighteenth century was the flourishing period of
the Japanese popular drama. Nearly everything of note
in this department of literature belongs to it. Chika-
matsu, it is true, began his career somewhat earlier, but
all his principal works date after 1700. Since the be-
ginning of the nineteenth century, on the other hand, the
writing of Joruri has almost altogether ceased.
Chikamatsu was succeeded by Takeda Idzumo, who
wrote about the middle of the century. Most, however,
of the plays commonly attributed to him were composed
in collaboration with other writers, some being the work
of as many as five or six authors. It seems to have been
the usual practice at this time for playwrights to work
TAKEDA IDZUMO 313
together in this way. A committee having been formed,
the proceedings began by the president giving out a sub-
ject. At a subsequent meeting each member offered his
suggestions as to its treatment, and the work of com-
position went on in concert, nothing being accepted until
it met with the general approval.
One of the best known works of Idzumo is a historical
play of five acts, founded on the fortunes of Sugawara
Michizane, a celebrated statesman of the ninth century,
who was deified after his death as Temman Tenjin, and
is now worshipped as the god presiding over penman-
ship. It is entitled Sugawara denjiu tenarai no Kagami
or " Mirror (that is. History) of the Transmission of the
Art of Calligraphy by Sugawara" (1746). The names of
four authors appear on the title-page.
A still more famous drama by Idzumo and two col-
laborators is the Chiushingura^ (1748) or ^^ Magazine of
Faithful Retainers." Chikamatsu's five-act arrangement
was at this time no longer adhered to, and the Chiushin-
gura is in eleven acts or scenes. It is a version of the
favourite story of the forty-seven Renins. There are no
fewer than forty or fifty plays on this subject, some of them,
however, being mere adaptations of previous works.
In their general character, Idzumo's plays greatly
resemble those of his predecessor. There is the same
overcrowding of exciting incidents, the same mixture of
comedy and tragedy, and the same desire to shock the
audience with brutal murders and other enormities
enacted on the stage, and to pander to their lewder
tastes. But although it is heresy to say so, I confess to
a preference to Idzumo over his more famous master.
1 Translated into English by Mr. F. V. Dickins, under the title Chiushin-
gura ; or the Loyal League : a Japanese Romance.
314
JAPANESE LITERATURE
The improbabilities are not quite so startling, the per
sonages are several degrees nearer to ordinary humanity,
and their sentiments are somewhat less unnatural and
less stilted in their expression. The poetical element is,
perhaps, thinner, but that, to the European reader at least,
is a doubtful disadvantage.
Idzumo died in 1756. He was followed as playwright
for the Takemoto theatre by Chikamatsu Hanni, who
did his best to attract audiences by startling novelties
and spectacular effect. He reduced the share given to
poetical narrative, and depended more on dialogue. But
in his hands the Joruri declined sensibly. The public
got tired of it, the Takemoto Za went into bankruptcy,
and after the end of the century this kind of drama
became practically extinct.
CHAPTER VI
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY {Continued)
Wagakusha (Students of Japanese Antiquity)
The Kangakusha's extravagant admiration for every-
thing Chinese, and their persistent and largely successful
endeavours to mould the thoughts and institutions of
Japan upon Chinese models, were followed by an inevi-
table reaction in favour of a more genuinely national
development. This movement, which has been fully
described by Sir E. Satow in the Transactions of the
Asiatic Society of Japan (1875), forms one of the most
interesting features of recent Japanese literature.
It began with the renewed study of the old literary
monuments of Japan, which for centuries had been so
much neglected that the very language in which they are
written was no longer understood. lyeyasu's patronage
of literature, and his measures for the preservation of old
books, have been already referred to. One of his grand-
sons, the famous Mitsukuni (1622-1700), Daimio of Mito,
inherited his great ancestor's love of learning. He appro-
priated a considerable part of his revenue to the cost of
collecting a vast library of books of all kinds, and to the
maintenance of scholars whom he employed in the com-
pilation of works of research. The chief outcome of
their labours was the weii-known Dai Nihonshi, a history
31s
3i6 JAPANESE LITERATURE
of Japan in the Chinese language, which is recognised at
the present day as the standard work of its class.
One of Mitsukuni's services to literature was the pub-
lication in 1678 of an anthology of masterpieces in the
Wabun or pure Japanese style, under the title Fusd-Jiu-
yo-skiuy given to it by the reigning Mikado, to whom it
was dedicated. It is a fine specimen of the block-printing
of the time.
A priest named Keichiu (1640-1701) was the chief
pioneer of the revived study of the old literature. He
was by birth a Samurai, but out of a love for learning
abandoned the world for the quiet of a Buddhist monas-
tery. His fame as a scholar reached the ears of Mitsu-
kuni, who invited him in the most courteous manner to
come to Yedo and be enrolled in his company of learned
men. Keichiu declined this offer, upon which the Prince
sent one of his staff to prosecute his studies under
Keichiu's guidance. The latter, not to be outdone in
courtesy, compiled and dedicated to Mitsukuni a treatise
on the Manyoshiuy in twenty volumes, entitled Manyo
Daishdki, The task of preparing a similar work had
already been vainly assigned to another of the Prince's
proteges, a learned but lazy Wagakusha called Shimo-
kawabe Choriu. The Daishdki is now superseded, but it
was in its day a work of the highest importance for the
study of the old Japanese. Mitsukuni evinced his satis-
faction by sending the author a present of one thousand
ounces of silver and thirty rolls of silk.
Another book of Keichiu's was the Kokon Yozaishd^
which means literally " A Selection of Spare Timber, Old
and New." It is a miscellaneous collection of material
prepared by him in the course of his researches for the
Daishdki J but not used in that work. He also contributed
I
KEICHIU 317
to the interpretation of the he Monogatari and the Genji
Monogatariy and wrote a number of other erudite treatises
which are still valued by scholars. Like most of the
Wagakusha, he was a poet, and has left both Tanka and
Naga-uta, which in metre, diction, and sentiment are
little more than echoes of the Manydshiu, They are
adorned with the same devices of pillow and pivot words
and are in short the old wine in the old bottles. The
following simple effusion is in its way not unpleasing :
The First Day of Spring
' Bending its magic boiv^
The spring hath come :
The eternal heavens^
Likeiuise the ore-yielding earthy
Are di?n tvith haze;
The snow begins to melt
On the mountain's rim,
And the ice dissolves
From the surface of the pond;
The nightingale's tender note
Sounds {oh / how lovely /)
From amid the first blossoms
Of til e plum branch.
Now from the memory fade
Our regrets for the bygone year.
How many days must pass
Before we can go forth into the meadows
And pluck the young pot-herbs f^
When will the willow
Flame into bud?
^ Ham in Japanese means "to bend" and also "spring." Hence this con-
junction. There is no intention of personifying spring as an archer. A small
bow forms part of a magician's outfit in Japan.
2 An old custom in early spring.
3i8 JAPANESE LITERATURE
When will the cherry-flowers open ?
Such are the expectant thoughts
That on this day
Crowd into all men^s minds."
About the same time Kitamura Kigin, a scholar em-
ployed by the Shogun's Government, performed a useful
service by editing and annotating most of the classical
works of the Heian period. His editions of the Genji
Monogatari and Makura Zoshi are still much esteemed i
by students. Kigin also wrote Tanka and Haikai.
Kada Adzuma-maro (1669-1736), the son of the guar-
dian of a Shinto shrine, was Keichiu's successor as a
student of Japanese antiquity and the old classical litera-
ture. He presented to the Government a memorial, in
which he protested vigorously against the exclusive study
of Chinese, and urged the establishment of a school for
the cultivation of the Japanese language and literature at
Kioto. This project received the approval of the Shogun's
Government, but was never carried out. Kada was suc-
ceeded by his nephew and adopted son, Kada Arima-
maro (i 706-1 751). Arima-maro took up his residence
in Yedo, where he continued his uncle's teachings with
some success.
Among the elder Kada's pupils the most distinguished
was Mabuchi (1697-1769). Like his master, Mabuchi
came of a family of guardians of Shinto shrines. In 1738
he removed to Yedo, where he spent the remainder of
his life. He formed there a school which produced
many famous men, and soon rivalled the Kangakusha
in popularity and influence. Motoori, who was one of
his pupils, describes him as " the parent of the study of
antiquity."
" It was he," he adds, " with whom began that style of
MABUCHI 319
learning which consists in devoting oneself to the exa-
mination of the ancient language and thought with a
mind wholly detached from Chinese prepossessions.
Before the time of this master the study of poetry was
confined to the Kokinshiu and later collections. The
Manydshiu was thought obscure and incomprehensible.
Nobody dreamed of judging between the good and bad,
of distinguishing the old from the more recent poems,
or of mastering their language so as to use it as his
own. But now, thanks to the teachings of this master,
we have appropriated the ancient language. It has
become possible to compose poetry in the style of the
Manyoshiuy and even to write prose after the manner of
antiquity. The men of this day fancy that this is due to
their own exertions, but in reality they owe everything
to Mabuchi. It is now universally acknowledged that in
studying ancient books like the Kojiki and Nihongi, it
is necessary to avoid being misled by Chinese notions,
and having first thoroughly mastered the old language,
to guide ourselves by its meaning. This is the very spirit
of Mabuchi's teaching of the Manydshiu,'*
Mabuchi was a purist in style, and aimed at the
exclusion from his writings of words of Chinese deriva-
tion as far as this was possible. He has left numerous
commentaries and other works of research, indispen-
sable even now to the student of the older Japanese
language. Among them may be mentioned treatises on
pillow-words {Kanjiko)^ on poetry, and on prose com-
position, and commentaries on the Manydshiuy on the
Norito (Norito Kd\ the Genji Monogaiarz, and other
classical books. He was also a writer of Tanka and
Naga-uta.
The greatest of the Wagakusha, and one of the most
320 JAPANESE LITERATURE
remarkable men whom Japan has produced, was MOTO-
ORi NORINAGA. He belonged to a family which had been
originally Samurai, and was born in 1730 at Matsuzaka,
in the province of Ise. There can be no doubt that the
proximity of his native place to the famous shrines sacred
from antiquity to the worship of the Sun Goddess and the
Goddess of Food, had a considerable influence on his
career. Stories are told of his youth, of his omnivorous
appetite for knowledge, his precocious talent, and his
boyish ambitions, which it is needless to repeat here. At
the age of twenty-one he was sent to Kioto by his widowed
mother to study medicine. There he became acquainted
with the works of Keichiu, which he read with avidity.
In 1757 he returned to Matsuzaka and set up in practice
as a physician. Soon afterwards his attention was drawn
to Mabuchi's writings. In 1761 he had a personal meet-
ing with that great scholar. This, their only interview,
was followed by a long-continued and voluminous corre-
spondence.
Motoori's life was from this time forward a very busy
one. In addition to his medical practice, which was in a
flourishing condition, he was engaged in collecting mate-
rial for his great commentary on the Kojikiy and in giving
instructions to hundreds of pupils whom the fame of his
learning had attracted to him. Eventually he was taken
into the service of the Daimio of Kishiu, who was a great
admirer of his writings. Late in life Motoori resigned
his official position and removed to Kioto, where he gave
lectures which were attended by audiences drawn from
the highest classes of society in that city. He died there
in 1 80 1, in the seventy-second year of his age. By his
own desire he was buried at his native place on a hill
over the temple of Miorakuji, a fir and cherry tree were
MOTOORl 321
planted by his grave, and a stone set up inscribed simply
with his name.
Motoori was a prolific writer. He brought out fifty-
live distinct works in over one hundred and eighty
volumes. His fame as a scholar and writer rests chiefly
on his Kojiki-detiy a commentary on the Kojiki, the sacred
book of the Shinto religion.^ Before his time the study
of the Kojiki had been much neglected, the very language
in which it is written being well-nigh unintelligible even to
educated Japanese. In this monumental work, which fills
no fewer than forty-four good-sized volumes, he brought
to bear on the elucidation of a very difficult text a vast
store of erudite knowledge, derived from a long study of
the Manyoshiu and other books of the old literature. It
occupied him for many years. Begun in 1764, it was
not completed until 1796, and the final volumes were
not issued from the press till long after his death.
The Kojiki-den is not only valuable for its prodigious
learning ; it was a vigorous blow aimed at the supre-
macy of the Chinese school of ethics and philosophy.
No opportunity is lost of girding at everything Chinese,
and of exalting the old Japanese customs, religion, and
language, in a spirit of ardent and undiscriminating
patriotism. The Kojiki-den had no small share in pro-
ducing the reaction against Chinese ideas and institu-
tions which has become so pronounced a characteristic
of modern Japan.
The Reki-cho Shoshi-kai-in is an edition, with notes,
of the speeches and proclamations of some of the early
Mikados which have been preserved to us in a historical
work entitled Shoku Nihongi.
Other works of Motoori's are his edition of the Kokin-
1 See above, p. i8.
X
322 JAPANESE LITERATURE
shiu already noticed ; the ho no Kami Shishukugen^
treatise on poetry ; the Gio-jin Gai-gen, an attack on the
Chinese philosophy ; the Tama no Ogushi, a valuable
critical and exegetical work on the Genji Monogatari ;
the Kenkidjin (" The Madman Fettered "), a controversial
work written in reply to hostile criticisms of the sacred
Shinto books ; the Kuzuhanay composed in answer to a
similar attack by a scholar named Ichikawa Tatsumaro ;
the Uiyama bumiy a treatise on methods of study, and the
Tama-arare ("Hail of Pearls"), a lively and amusing
critique of common errors in writing Japanese.
The Saki-take no ben is a refutation of various erroneous
notions current with regard to the gods of Ise and their
worship. The " abominable heresy " of some Kangakusha
who would euhemerise the Sun Goddess into an ordinary
mortal empress, and make the Takama no Hara (or Plain
of High Heaven) the name of the place where her capital
stood, is duly anathematised. "What doubt can there
be that Amaterasu no Ohomi Kami [the Sun Goddess]
is the great ancestress of the Mikados, and that she is
no other than the Sun of Heaven which illumines this
world ? These things are in their nature infinite, not to
be measured, and mysterious."
The Tamagatsuma (in fifteen volumes, published post-
humously in 1812), may be called " Motoori's Note-book."
It is a collection of jottings of a very miscellaneous char-
acter, comprising notes on Shinto ceremonial, on the
old literature, on grammar and spelling, on poetry, on
ancient customs, on the iniquity of Chinese principled
and institutions, &c., &c. It is a mine of instruction to
all students of Japanese antiquity, but has little except
perhaps a few autobiographical memoranda which will
interest others.
MOTOORI 323
Another miscellaneous work, the Suzunoya no Bunshiu,
also contains some interesting personal reminiscences. I
should like to transcribe from it a delicately drawn de-
scription of how the author spent a very hot day in the
society of some congenial friends. It is unfortunately
too long for quotation.
Before Motoori's time there was no Japanese grammar,
one or two dictionaries of the Teniwoha or particles
being hardly an exception. Although he did not pro-
duce a systematic grammar of the Japanese language,
Motoori did much to throw light upon its structure.
The Tama-ararey already referred to, contains many
useful grammatical hints. In the Moji-goye no Kana-
dzukai {\^^\) he enunciated the principles of the correct
spelling of Japanese words, and in the Kanji Sanonko
(1785) he dealt with the various modes of spelling and
pronouncing words of Chinese origin^ His principal
grammatical work, however, is the Kotoba no Tama no
wo (1779), in which he set forth and illustrated at great
length certain rules of Japanese syntax. Conciseness
was not one of Motoori's merits. The seven volumes of
which this work consists have been compressed without
material loss into seven pages of English. His gramma-
tical researches were continued by his son, Haruniwa, in
whose well-known work, the Kotoba no Yachimata, the
inflexional system of the Japanese verb and adjective was
for the first time formulated, and by his adopted son,
Ohira, who was the author of a treatise on causative
and passive verbs. European writers on Japanese
grammar owe much to the researches of Motoori and
his followers.
Carlyle's idea that the qualities which go to make a
man of literary genius fit the same person for being a
324 JAPANESE LITERATURE
statesman is a favourite one with the Japanese. We
have seen that Hakuseki and Kiuso were constantly con-
sulted upon official matters by the Shogun's Government.
Motoori was invited by the Daimio of Kishiu to place
on record his views on the government of a Daimio's
domain, and did so in a little work in two volumes
entitled Tama Kushige ("The Precious Casket"). In this
treatise he unbends from the severe purism of his other
works, and sets an example of a simple, practical style
well suited to the subjects discussed, and level to the
meanest understanding. His position is that of a cautious
reformer. He saw that one of the greatest abuses of the
day was the excessive number of officials and retainers
of all kinds, and urged earnestly that it should be
diminished ; gradually, however, so as to avoid injury
to vested interests. The oppressed condition of the
peasantry had his warmest sympathy. He thought that
the ikki or agrarian risings, which had become common,
were a disgrace to the Daimios in whose jurisdiction they
occurred, rather than to the ignorant men who took part
in them. The hara-kiri is another subject on which he
had a strong opinion. In his view this form of suicide
had become far too common. It was not for the public
advantage, he considered, that honest and capable men
should do away with themselves because they were
responsible for some triffing official miscarriage, as was
too often the case. He was in favour of prohibiting
all hara-kiri without a formal order from the culprit's
superior.
It is not by writing of this kind, however, that Motoori's
political influence is to be measured. His works helped
materially to enfranchise the Japanese nation from their
moral and intellectual servitude to China, and to produce
MOTOORI 325
a spirit of self-reliance and patriotism which at a sub-
sequent period became translated into political action.
Though he was himself loyal to the Shogunate, he contri-
buted indirectly, but most effectively, to the national
movement which in 1867 brought about its downfall,
and restored the descendant of the Sun Goddess to the
sovereign position which was the logical result of the
principles advocated in his works.
Motoori's efforts on behalf of the Shinto religion pro-
duced little tangible result. It was too late to call back
the deities of the old pantheon from the Hades to which
the neglect of the nation had consigned them. In his
own lifetime nothing was done, and although a half-
hearted, perfunctory attempt to re-establish the ancient
faith was made in 1868, the efforts of its supporters
were soon relaxed. The Buddhist priests ceased to be
the guardians of the Shinto shrines, and a so-called
Shinto form of burial was introduced, but little more
was effected that was not soon afterwards allowed to
fall into abeyance. At the present day this religion is
practically extinct.
All the Wagakusha considered themselves bound to
compose poetry in the old style. Motoori acquitted him-
self of this obligation more creditably than most of his
fellows. The following Tanka is much admired : —
" If one should ask you
What is the heart
Of Island Yamato —
// is the jnountain cherry blossom
Which exhales its perfume in the morniftg siinP
In other words, ''The Japanese are instinctively and
naturally noble and virtuous— not like the Chinese, who
326 JAPANESE LITERATURE
require a clumsy and artificial system of ethical phi
sophy for the cultivation of their moral natures."
Motoori's anti-foreign and patriotic prejudices go far
to explain his antipathy for the Kangakusha with their
extravagant admiration for everything Chinese. But
there was a deeper cause for his dislike to their philo-
sophy. As already stated, the Chinese nation has a
strong bias against the conception of the power which
rules the universe as a personal being. The Ten (Heaven)
of Confucius and Mencius, and the Tao (Way) of Laotze/
not to speak of the Taiklii and other metaphysical con-
ceptions of the Sung schoolmen, all fall short of this idea.
The main bent of the Japanese mind is in the same direc-
tion. But there is evidence in both countries of a con-
trary current of thought. Here, too, there are men born
with a craving which refuses to be satisfied with abstrac-
tions in the place of a personal God (or gods) to whom
they can look up as the Creator and Ruler of the
universe, and as exercising a providential care over
mankind. Motoori was one of these. He professed
not even to understand what the Sung schoolmen meant
by their Taikhi and their Yin and Ymtgy and stoutly
maintained that these were mere fictions. But whatever
may be the case with philosophical notions, no man can
evolve a God from his own inner consciousness. He
must accept the God or gods which he finds already
acknowledged, whether by his own or by other people's
fathers. Motoori's intensely patriotic temper compelled
him to seek at home for the satisfaction of his inborn
religious instincts. He turned naturally to Shinto. But
in his time Shinto had fallen on evil days. It had suffered
^ The late General Alexander, in his work on Laotze, translates Tao by
• * God." He explains his reasons for doing so in the preface.
MOTOORI 327
grievously from the encroachments of Buddhism. Bud-
dhist priests had assumed the guardianship of the great
majority of the shrines of the national cult, and had
adulterated its ceremonies and doctrines with much that
was alien. The native gods were not abolished — they
had still some hold on the popular mind ; but they
were degraded to the position of temporary manifesta-
tions of Buddha. As one of Motoori's pupils said, they
were made domestics in the Buddhist household.
This state of things was a great grief to Motoori. It
drove him back from the present to the old unadulterated
Shinto taught in the Kojiki^ Nihongi, and Norito. Here
he found the satisfaction to his mind and heart which he
had failed to find elsewhere. Himself convinced of the
excellence of the old national religion, he made it the
business of his life to propagate it among his fellow-
countrymen, and to denounce the abominable depravity
of those who neglected it in favour of sophistical heresies
imported from abroad.
Hence arose a controversy which is not without in-
terest to ourselves as an episode in the unending con-
flict between science and religion. Both parties to the
struggle fought under grievous difficulties. Not only
could the Kangakusha offer nothing to satisfy the heart-
need of a personal Deity, but they were sorely hampered
by the imperfections of their philosophy, and by a belief
in divination, ghosts, and spiritual beings, which they did
not perceive to be inconsistent with it. Motoori and
his followers, on the other hand, were weighted by an
antiquated mythology which presented many glaring
absurdities even when viewed in the dim light of Chinese
philosophy. The Wagakusha were also embarrassed by
the absence from Shinto of anything like a code of
328 JAPANESE LITERATURE
i\
morals. They were therefore driven either to deny the
necessity of anything of the kind, or to put forward as
derived from Shinto a system of ethical teaching which
was really borrowed from China. ll
It may not be out of place here to describe in as few
words as possible the old Shinto of the seventh and eighth
centuries, which Motoori aimed at restoring. It was
essentially a nature-worship, upon which was grafted a
cult of ancestors. It tells us nothing of a future state
of rewards and punishments, and contains the merest
traces of moral teaching. The Norito, quoted in an
earlier chapter, in enumerating the offences from which
the nation was purged twice a year by the Mikado or his
representatives, makes no mention of any one of the sins
of the decalogue. What then remains ? A mythical
history of the creation of the world, and of the doings
of a number of gods and goddesses, the chief of whom,
namely, the Sun Goddess, was the ancestress of the human
rulers of Japan, while from the subordinate deities were
sprung the principal noble families who formed their
court. Add to this a ceremonial comprising liturgies in
honour of these deities and we have the Shinto religion.
The mythological record begins with the bare names
of a number of gods who seem to have been provided
merely in order to form a genealogy for Izanagi and
Izanami, the male and female creator deities of Japan.
The creation is thus described : —
Izanagi and Izanami, at the bidding of the other deities,
took into their hands the " Jewel-spear of Heaven," and
standing on the " Floating-bridge of Heaven," stirred
with it the chaotic mass below. The brine which dripped
from its point curdled and became an island. The divine
pair descended thither and proceeded to procreate the
MOTOORI 329
islands of Japan. They also became the parents of a
multitude of other deities, such as the Mountain Gods,
the Wind God, the Goddess of Food, the Gods of the
Sea, Rivers, and Moors, with many others whose attri-
butes are obscure and whose worship is forgotten.
The last god to be produced was the Fire God, in
giving birth to whom Izanami died. She went to the
Land of Yomi or Hades, whither Izanagi followed her,
but was obliged to retreat hastily to the upper world
hotly pursued by the thunder gods and the Ugly Female
of Hades. In his flight he made use of various expe-
dients to delay his pursuers, which recall similar devices
in European folk-lore. After his return to earth, Izanagi
bathed in the sea in order to wash away the pollutions
which he had contracted during his stay in Hades, and in
doing so generated various deities, among which were the
Sun Goddess, produced from his left eye, and the Moon
God, produced from his right eye. A third deity, named
Susa no wo, was at the same time born from his nose.
Izanagi conferred on these three the dominion of the
Plain of Heaven, of Night, and of the Sea respectively.
Susa no wo was a boisterous and rowdy deity, whose
mischievous and unseemly pranks so disgusted the Sun
Goddess that she hid herself in the rock-cave of heaven
and left the world to darkness. The other gods had
much ado to persuade her to emerge from her seclusion,
inventing for the purpose dances and other expedients
which are evidently meant to represent the ceremonies
in use at Shinto shrines in the times of the Kojiki and
Nihongi. Susa no wo was then tried by a council of
gods, and sentenced to a fine, and banishment to this
lower world.
A grandson of the Sun Goddess became the first ruler
330 JAPANESE LITERATURE
of Japan. From him was descended, after a few genera-t
tions, Jimmu Tenno, the first human sovereign of Japan
and the founder, according to tradition, of the presen
dynasty of Mikados.
There is food for reflection in the fact that it waj
possible for a man of high intelligence and vast learning
like Motoori, not unacquainted with the philosophy anc
religions of India and China, to accept these childisl
fables as the basis of his faith. Yet not only w^as h(
himself a sincere believer. He had a large and zealous
body of followers, drawn from the highest and mos
enlightened classes of his fellow-countrymen. Truly i
would almost seem as if, in the words of the Japanese
proverb, '^ Iwashi no atama mo shinjin-gara," that is tc
say, '^ It is the quality of faith that is important, were
its object only the head of a sardine."
The following passage from the Tamagatsuma wil
help us to define more precisely Motoori's attitude to
wards the Chinese school of thinkers. It is headed
'' Chinese Opinion
" In China all good and bad fortune of men, all ordei
and disorder in the State — everything, in short, whici
happens in this world — is ascribed to the action of Ter
(Heaven). Using such terms as the Way of Ten, th
Command of Ten, and the Principle of Ten, they regan
it as a thing to be honoured and feared above all. China
however, is a country where the true way generally has
not been handed down. There they do not know that al
things are the doing of the gods, and therefore resor
rashly to such inventions. Now Heaven is nothing more
than the region where the gods of Heaven dwell. It ii
a thing destitute of sense, and it is unreasonable to tall
MOTOORI 331
of its * command ' and the like. To fear and honour Ten,
and not fear and honour the gods, is Hke yielding an idle
honour and awe to the Imperial Palace, and showing no
reverence or honour to its sovereign. Foreign countries,
however, not having attained to the knowledge that
everything is the doing of the gods, may be pardoned
for believing this Doctrine of the Way of Ten or the
Principle of Ten. But what is to be thought of those
who, in this imperial country, where a knowledge of the
true way has been handed down, do not take the trouble
to examine it, but, simply accepting the erroneous doc-
trines of foreign lands, imagine that that which they
call Ten is a thing of peerless excellence, and in all
matters can talk of nothing but its principle ? Take
again their pedantic and wearisome Taikhi [the Great
Limit], Mu Ki [the Limitless], Yin and Yang [Positive
and Negative Principles of Nature], CJtien and K'un
[Celestial and Terrestrial Principles], P«/^w<3: [Eight Dia-
grams of the Book of Changes], and Wu-hing [Five
Elements], which are pure inventions of the Chinese,
and for which there is in reality no sound reason. What
consummate folly it is for those who would interpret
our sacred books to rely implicitly on principles of this
kind. In recent times even those who try to divest
themselves of Chinese prejudices in their interpretations
fail to understand the falseness of their doctrines of the
Principle of Ten, and of the Positive and Negative Powers
of Nature, and do not succeed in bursting the barrier
because they do not put thoroughly away from them
their Chinese notions, nor resolutely rouse themselves
from their deluding dreams. Moreover, the refusal of
some to identify Ama-terasu no Ohomi Kami [the Sun
Goddess] as the Sun of Heaven is owing to their being
332 JAPANESE LITERATURE
steeped in Chinese narrow-minded reasonings, and
become blind to the wondrous and profound principle
of the true way."
Towards Buddhism his antagonism is less pronounced
He acknowledges elements of good in it, and for Laotz
he confesses to a certain measure of sympathy, prompte
no doubt by the circumstance that the doctrines of thi:
philosopher are irreconcilable with the teachings of th
Sung schoolmen. On the question of the immortality oi
the soul he formally declines to give an opinion.
Motoori's religion is frankly anthropomorphic, as in-
deed it could hardly fail to be if he attached an]
credence to the statements in the Kojiki. He says in sc
many words that the Shinto deities had hands and legs
When pressed with the obvious inconsistencies whicl
are involved in this belief, Motoori has nothing better tc
say than they are ^'a proof of the authenticity of the
record, for who wpuld have gone out of his way to inven
a story so ridiculous and improbable, if it were not true
\Credo quia impossibile.'] The acts of the gods are not tc
be explained by ordinary principles. Man's intelligence
is limited, and there are many things which tran
scend it."
Not the least of Motoori's achievements was his creatior
of a new literary dialect. It is true that his style was
more or less modelled on that of his teacher Mabuchi
But the latter was content to use the pure Japanese
language, or Wabun, as it is called, just as he found it
Stiff and antiquated, it was by no means an apt instru-
ment for the expression of modern ideas. In Motoori's
hands it became flexible, picturesque, and expressive
All foreign students have felt the charm of his lucic
and flowing style. But it is marred by one terrible fault,
MOTOORI 333
prolixity. This is partly inseparable from Motoori's
purism, which leads him to reject many useful and
thoroughly naturalised Chinese words in favour of
Japanese forms of expression, however circuitous, and
is partly owing to an inveterate habit which he has of
repeating himself, especially when an opportunity offers
of denouncing Chinese proclivities or of magnifying the
merits of Shinto.
Motoori's Wabun has had many imitators, and it has
exercised a perceptible influence on some departments
of the more recent Japanese literature.
CHAPTER VII
NINETEENTH CENTURY
HiRATA — Kangakusha — Shingaku Sermons —
Buddhist Literature
The eminent theologian HiRATA Atsutane1(i776-i843)
was born in Kubota, a town of the remote province of
Dewa. His parents belonged to the Samurai class, and
he traced his genealogy on the father's side through
the Mikado Kwammu, up to the Sun Goddess herself.
In his youth he followed the usual course of instruc
tion in the Chinese classics, and had also made fair
progress in the study of medicine, when, at the age
of nineteen, he suddenly made up his mind to run
away from home. He left a paper behind in which
he informed his parents of this resolution, and set out
for Yedo with one rio in his pocket. On arriving in
the capital he applied for help neither to the officials
of his province nor to private friends, but sought an
upright and virtuous teacher under whose guidance he
might devote himself to learning. For four or five
years he lived from hand to mouth, having sometimes
to resort to manual labour for a livelihood. In 1800 he
was adopted by a Samurai of the Matsuyama Daimiate,
^ For a full account of Hirata and his theology, I would again refer the
reader to Sir E. Satow's " Revival of Pure Shinto," in the Transactions of the
Asiatic Society of Japan ^ 1S75.
334
HIRATA
335
and his position thus became assured. The following
year he first became acquainted with Motoori's writings.
This led him to give himself up entirely to the study of
Japanese antiquity.
His first published work, a criticism of a treatise
by the famous Kangakusha, Dazai Shuntai, was written
two years later. In 1804 he began to take pupils, and
from this time forward not a year passed without some
publication by him. He also practised as a physician.
In 1808 he was sent on a mission to instruct certain
Shinto official guardians in the principles of the old
faith, and acquitted himself with credit of this duty.
In 181 1 he retired to Suruga, where he composed the
Seibun, which was the most important work he had yet
written. In 1822 the Abbot of Uyeno (an Imperial
prince) asked for a copy of his works, and sent him a
handsome present in return. This led subsequently to
his visiting Ki5to, and having his work brought to the
notice of the Mikado and his court. Some of his later
writings gave offence to the Shogun's Government, and
in 1841 he was ordered to return to his native province
and to publish nothing more. He at once started from
Yedo and proceeded to Akita. The arrival of the dis-
tinguished scholar caused no little excitement in that
remote place. His contemporary relations were mostly
dead, but he was welcomed by numerous nephews and
other younger branches of the family. The social duties
thus imposed upon him, together with the demands upon
his skill as a physician, soon wore out his strength. He
died two years later at the age of sixty-seven.
That in view of their own interests the Shogun's
Government were perfectly right to put a stop to Hirata's
career is not to be doubted. The attention drawn by
336 JAPANESE LITERATURE
his writings to the divine descent of the Mikados, and
their unquestioned and unquestionable claim to be con-
sidered the de jure sovereigns of Japan, was tending
slowly but surely to sap the authority of the de facU
rulers. It was, however, a little late in the day for then
to interfere. Nothing could undo the work of nearlj
forty years of assiduous propagation of his views both
through the press and by viva voce lectures to his hun-
dreds of disciples. His published works amount tc
several hundred volumes. It is impossible to notice
more than a very few of them here.
The Kishin Shinron (1805), or ^^ New Treatise on the
Gods," is a characteristic specimen of Hirata's writings
He here combats the rationalistic theories of the Kanga-
kusha by proving, or attempting to prove, that the ancient
Chinese believed in a real God called Shangti or Tien,"
who dwells in heaven, and guides the affairs of this world
but whom the Sung schoolmen endeavoured to explain
away as a mere allegory, attributing all phenomena to
the action of principles without life which they called
Yin and Yang (Positive and Negative Principles of
Nature). " But how," argues Hirata, " can there be
action without life ? Certainly the existence of activity
presupposes a living God from whom it proceeds."
*' In this connection," Hirata goes on to say, " I will
relate a story. Of late some people have introduced the
learning of a country called Holland. It has found a
good number of students here in Great Yedo. It may
be true, as I am told, that the men of this country are
fond of examining profoundly the principles of things.
Among other inventions they have a machine called
' electer,' which they say is constructed by an appHcation
^ In Japanese Ten.
HIRATA 337
of the principles of thunder and Hghtning. I saw this
machine some years ago. [Here follows a description
of the electric machine and its operation.] The friend
who showed it to me said, ^Thunder and lightning are
caused truly by this same principle. Why, then, should
we fear them ? The reason why some people dread
them so much is that they do not understand their prin-
ciple. This is very foolish.' ^Verily,' replied I, ^this is
an admirably constructed machine. Whether the actual
thunder and lightning are really of the same nature is a
matter on which I am unable to form an opinion. But
supposing that to be the case, is not the production of
lightning [the electric spark] by it dependent upon you
and me and our friend, one holding one thing, another
another, while the third turns a handle ? Well, then, the
same principle applies to the real thunder and lightning
of the universe. It cannot be produced without the action
of something corresponding to you and me. Moreover,
this machine, made by the skill of man, is merely a small
engine, entirely subject to our control, and so there is no
need to fear it. But the real thunder rages among the
clouds, turning them to confusion, or, leaving them,
comes down to earth and indiscriminately splits trees
or grinds rocks to powder. It may be thought a thing
of no feeling, yet there are frequent instances in history
of evil things and wicked men having been destroyed
by it.' "
Mutatis mutandis^ is not this precisely the position taken
up by Paley in his well-known apologue of the watch ?
The conversation ended in a hot discussion, in which
both parties lost their tempers. Hirata saw no prospect
of convincing his opponent, and returned home.
Good and evil, according to Hirata, flow from the
Y
338 JAPANESE LITERATURE
action of two classes of deities, each of whom has his o:
her own particular function. But deities are, after all
like men. None are wholly bad or wholly good,
benevolent deity, if angered, may send a curse, and ar
evil deity, on the other hand, may occasionally dispense
blessings. Moreover, an action of the gods which i<
indifferent in itself may be good or bad, according tc
the object affected. The hot sun, which delights the
cicada, scorches the worm.
The efficacy of prayer and the nature of sacrifices an
next discussed.
To the question, '^ Is a pious Shinto believer to wor-
ship Buddha ? " Hirata replies in the affirmative. H<
quotes a verse of Motoori's to the effect that " Shaka anc
Confucius are also Kami [gods], and their way is
branch of the way of the Kami." That this is really th(
case is proved, he says, by the Buddhist miracles whicl
have been worked in Japan as in other countries. More
over, everything which takes place in this world bein|
ordered by the Kami, Buddhism too must be in accord
ance with their will. Hirata, in short, wants to tun
the tables on the Buddhists, and, in revenge' for thei:
giving the Shinto deities a subordinate place in thei]
theological system, proposes to make Buddha a sort
inferior Kami.
Hirata believed in the immortality of the soul, an(
takes pains to prove that Confucius did so also. ^^ I
the dead are non-existent," he argues, 'Svhat meanin|
can there be in the worship of ancestors, and how shal
we account for the undoubted fact that dead men sen(
curses upon those who have injured them while alive ? "
The Koshi Seibutiy which with its dependent works th<
Koshi'Cho and Koshi-den constitute Hirata's chief claim tc
HIRATA 330
a reputation for learning, was begun in 1812. It is an
attempt to harmonise the myths of the Kojiki, Nihongi,
and other ancient books in a continuous and consistent
narrative, written in the archaic dialect of the Kojiki, As
these old stories differ very considerably among them-
selves, Hirata was naturally obliged to do them violence in
order to make them agree, and scholars will prefer to go
to his originals rather than accept his version of them.
A higher value attaches to the Koshi-cho (eleven volumes,
1819), in which he gives an account of the authorities for
the text of the Seibun ; but his greatest contribution to our
knowledge of Japanese antiquity is the Kosht-den, a com-
mentary on the Seibun, in twenty-eight volumes, begun
in 1 81 2, but never completed. It covers only 143 sections
of the 165 of which the Seibun consists. The Koshi-den
stands next after Motoori's Kojiki-den as a monument of
Japanese old-world learning. It is indispensable to the
student of Shinto.
The Tamadasuki (ten volumes) was composed origin-
ally in 1 81 1, in a colloquial style, and rewritten in the
literary dialect in 1824. It is a sort of breviary contain-
ing a set of prayers addressed to the very numerous
deities of Shinto, intended, however, not for temple but
for individual use. The prayers are accompanied by
a considerable and very heterogeneous mass of com-
mentary.
The Kodo Tai-i, or ^' Summary of the Ancient Way "
(two volumes, 181 1), states the principles of the Shinto
religion in easy language and in a brief and intelligible
form. It is very clearly printed, and forms an excel-
lent introduction to the study of Shinto in its native
language.
Hirata also published summaries of Chinese learning,
340 JAPANESE LITERATURE
of Buddhism, of the art of medicine (chiefly from th
point of view of its divine origin), of the art of poetry
and of the vulgar Shinto, with other works far to(
numerous even to mention.
A professed disciple of Motoori, Hirata was mor
exclusively a theologian than his master. All his work
were intended either directly or indirectly to promote
belief in Shinto, which in his hands assumed a far mor
definite and tangible character than it had ever don
before. Consciously or unconsciously, he added to
several new features, such as the doctrine of the immor
tality of the soul, and a moral code purloined froii
the stores of the detested Kangakusha. Thus he says
*^ Devotion to the memory of ancestors is the mainspring
of all virtue. No one who discharges his duty to then
will ever be disrespectful to the gods or to his living
parents. Such a man will also be faithful to his prince
loyal to his friends, and kind and gentle, with his wif(
and children. For the essence of this devotion is ir
truth filial piety. These truths are confirmed [!] by th(
books of the Chinese, who say that the Moyal subjec
issues from the gate of the pious son,' and again, ^filia
piety is the basis of all good actions.' "
Hirata's writings have no high value from a pureh
literary point of view. The native History of Literatur
dismisses him in a few contemptuous sentences. Hii
literary style is more useful than elegant. It is formec
on the Wabun of Motoori ; but he is much less of a puris'
than his master, and does not reject useful words simply
because they come from China. His style has gaine
thereby in vigour and conciseness, but it falls far behinc
that of Motoori in distinction and charm.
A certain number of his less important works are in th
OHASHI JUNZO 341
colloquial dialect. They consist of lectures taken down
by his students just as they were delivered. Two little
works on Buddhism, named Godoben and Shutsujd Shogo,
belong to this class. In them Hirata has undertaken
the easy task of ridiculing popular Buddhism in Japan.
They are racy and entertaining diatribes, but, it must be
added, are disgraced by scurrilous abuse quite unworthy
of the would-be founder of a new form of religion.
Kangakusha
There is not much to be said of the Kangakusha who
wrote in the Japanese language during the nineteenth
century. Among them, Ohashi Junzo (1816-1862) has
left a certain reputation as one of the most determined
opponents of the policy which led to the opening of
Japan to foreign trade in 1859. His chief work, the Heki-
ja-shd-ron, which is a violent and ignorant attack upon
the moral and philosophical ideas of Europe, was written
to promote this object. It was published in 1857. The
character of its contents may be gathered from the head-
ings, ^' Europe knows not philosophy," '* Europe knows
not heaven," '^ Europe knows not benevolence and
righteousness," " Europe knows not versatile talent."
He also wrote a history of the Tartar invasion of Japan,
entitled Genko Kiriaku (1853).
Junzo did not confine himself to attacking European
learning in his writings. He took part in the anti-foreign
agitation which culminated in the murder of Ando
Tsushima no Kami in February 1862. He was arrested,
thrown into prison, and examined under torture, but suc-
ceeded in satisfying his judges that he was not directly
implicated in this crime. Exhausted by his sufferings,
he died five days after his release from prison.
342 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Shingaku (Heart-learning) Sermons
As Buddhism absorbed Shinto, and as Hirata, on behali
of the latter rehgion, proposed to admit Buddha and hia
saints to a humble place in the native assemblage oi
deities, so the Shingaku movement v^as an attempt ta
utilise both religions in the interests of Chinese philo-
sophy and ethics. The preachers of this school professec
to combine the teachings of all three faiths, and they
spoke with something more than tolerance of Buddhism
and Shinto ; but they were at heart rationalists, to whom
much in the popular presentation of both these religions
must have appeared utterly unworthy of credence. They
tried, however, to smooth over matters by introducing the
proviso that everything in them which is irreconcilabl
with reason is to be regarded as hdben. This hoben is
word of great virtue. It is quite inoffensive, and embraces
everything which, though not strictly in accordance with
fact, tends to edification. It is alike applicable to th
parables of the Gospels, the lives of the saints, and ever
to the Neapolitan miracle of the liquefaction of the bloo
of St. Januarius. To the tolerant minds of the Shingaku
preachers the use of any weapon which was likely to b
useful in that struggle between the powers of light anc
darkness which goes on in Japan, as elsewhere, was no
only permissible, but laudable, and even imperative. Tha
it might have been taken from the armoury of the enem^
was with them a very minor consideration.
Practically, the maxims of Confucius and Mencius are
the sources of the Shingaku doctrines. The preachers
usually take their texts from the writings of one of thes
two sages. They address themselves to the ignorant, an(
SHINGAKU 343
more especially to women and children, and their lan-
guage is the ordinary colloquial speech of Kioto and
Osaka. Works of this kind are much despised in Japan
by the learned, who look upon the language of ordinary
life as quite unfitted for literature. These discourses,
however, are not without merit ; the style is homely, but
vigorous and direct, and they are admirably suited to
arouse the minds of the ignorant to some sense of the
cardinal truths which underlie all systems of morality.
The best are the collections entitled Kiuo Doway Shin-
gaku Doway and Teshima Dowa, Of these the Kind
Ddwa is undoubtedly the most amusing. Indeed, it may
safely be said that few more entertaining sermons are
to be found anywhere. But the reader must not be
squeamish. For although of unexceptionable morality,
and addressed virginibus puerisque, the stories and illus-
trations with which this and others of these collections
abound are frequently of a very Rabelaisian character.
The Shingaku Dowa is somewhat more scrupulous in
this respect, and reaches a higher level in every other
way except that it is unfortunately less amusing.
Three sermons from the Kind Dowa have been trans-
lated by Mr. Mitford in his Tales of Old Japan, One of
these, comprising the original text, notes, a romanised
version, and an English translation, was published by
the late ]. O'Neill as a First Japanese Book,
The Shingaku movement received a good deal of
official support and countenance, and attracted much
public attention, during the first half of the nineteenth
century ; but it is not surprising that it ultimately proved
abortive. The attempt to reconcile three such conflicting
elements as Buddhism, Shinto, and Confucianism was in
reality hopeless.
344
JAPANESE LITERATURE
ir
The Buddhist Hterature of Japan forms a separate sub
ject, which I shall not attempt to deal with. Most of i
IS m the Chinese language, and that part which is
Japanese is not very important as literature. It consists,
chiefly of lives of the Buddhist saints, and of edifying
tracts and stories all addressed to the more ignoran
classes, and highly seasoned with a thaumaturgic
element. ^
CHAPTER VIII
NINETEENTH CENTURY {Cominued)— FICTION
Romantic School — Kioden, Tanehiko, Bakin.
Humourists — Samba, Ikku. Sentimental Novels
— Shunsui. Works in Chinese of Yedo Period
The eighteenth-century writers of Jitsuroku-mono or
historical novels did not attempt to invent plots for them-
selves or to introduce imaginary personages of import-
ance, although in minor details they allowed their fancy
free play. Santo Kioden (1761-1816) was the first to
give to the world the romantic novel pure and simple.
He was followed by Bakin, Tanehiko, and a host of
other writers whose existence can only be indicated. It
is quite impossible to notice them or their numerous
works more particularly.
Kioden was a genuine Yedokko or Child of Yedo, the
Japanese term corresponding to our "Cockney." He
was born in that city in 1761, of parents of the merchant
class. His youth was unpromising. He spent much of
his time in places of ill resort, sometimes remaining away
from home for weeks together. Books were his abhor-
rence, and all attempts to teach him a profession were in
vain. He took lessons in painting from the well-known
artist Kitawo Shigemasa, and it is stated by Mr. W. Ander-
son 1 that he has left many beautiful chromoxylographs,
1 In his Catalogue of Japanese Pictures in the British Museum.
345
346
JAPANESE LITERATURE
but his native biographers pronounce him a failure in this
respect also. In 1790 he married a woman of the harlot
class. Notwithstanding what has been asserted by some
English writers, such unions are regarded in Japan with
marked disapproval, and his friends augured little good
of Kioden's choice. His wife, however, proved an excep-
tion to the general rule. She made an excellent house-
wife, and, the chief of virtues in a Japanese married
woman, was unremitting in her dutiful attentions to her:
father-in-law. In short, she won respect from all Kioden's
acquaintances, and was spoken of by them as '^ the lotus-
flower which has its roots in the mud." When she died
he married another woman of the same class, who also
made him a good wife.
Kioden's place of business was near the Kiobashi (a
bridge) in the street called Temmacho. Hence the name
by which he is known as an author, and which is com-
posed of the first syllables of the names of these two
places. His real name was Iwase Denzo, and he had
half-a-dozen other appellations at various periods of his
life and in various capacities. Kioden sold smoking
apparatus, such as pipes, tobacco-pouches, and the like,
while he was also the inventor and compounder of a
quack medicine, to which he gave the name of Doku-
shogwan, or Reading Pills, the precise operation of which
I have not been able to discover. He had the reputation
of a shrewd and successful man of business, and was
especially noted for his quickness at mental reckoning.
He seldom bought books, but was always borrowing,
and made it a rule when drinking with a friend that each
should pay his own share, which, as we know from ^^ Auld
Lang Syne," was also the practice of Robert Burns. This
became known as the Kioden fashion.
KIODEN 347
Kioden's first work (1782) was an imitation, more by
way of joke than anything else, of some ephemeral pub-
lications describing the manners of the brothel-quarter of
Yedo. It was successful to a degree which surprised no
one more than the author. His next work was equally
well received. Fortunately for his fame, his career as a
purveyor of pornography was put a stop to by the police
authorities. Kioden, with many others, was prosecuted
under the edict promulgated in 1791 for the suppression
of such publications, and was condemned to fifty days'
handcuffs (in his own house). The work which brought
down on him this punishment he had had the audacity
to describe on the cover as an ^^ Edifying Story-book."
He wrote no more books of this kind. In one of his
later prefaces he protests strenuously that his works,
although fiction, would be found to inculcate the highest
morality. It is quite true that they are free from coarse-
ness or licentiousness, although their moral tendency
leaves something to be desired, at least from the Euro-
pean point of view. Kioden lost nothing by his reforma-
tion. The bookshops were crowded by eager purchasers
of his novels. The very horse-boys and cow-herds knew
his name, and his house was besieged by rival publishers
clamouring for manuscript. Kioden took advantage of
his popularity to insist on definite payment for his com-
positions. His predecessors, we are told, received nothing
for their works but an occasional invitation to supper in
some place of public resort, or presents of trifling value
when their books sold well.
The first work for which Kioden bargained for pay-
ment was an early production entitled Shogi Kinuburuiy
a share-bouj for which he received the munificent sum of
one rio.
348 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Kioden's best known stories are the Inadzuma Hidshi
(1805), of which some account is given below, the Honcho
Suibodai (1806), the Udonge Monogatari (1804), the Sdshoki
(18 1 3), the Chiushin Suikoden (1798), a version of the
forty-seven Ronin legend, and the Fukushiu Kidan Asaka
no numa. He was also the author of two works of anti-
quarian research which are much valued by native spe-
cialists : these are the Kottoshiu and the Kinse Kikeki Kd.
Kioden's writings would be classed by us among ^^ sen-
sation" novels. Wonder, amazement, and horror are
the feelings which he aims, not unsuccessfully, at exciting.
His style, however, is simple and straightforward ; and
although he can be graphic and picturesque upon occa-
sion, he is not fond of that superfine writing to which
some of his successors and contemporaries were so prone,
and which is so exasperating to European readers.
It is possibly a mere personal bias which leads me to
prefer him to his pupil, the much-vaunted Bakin. If any
Japanese novel deserves to be published complete in
English dress, one of Kioden's would, I think, be found
the most suitable for this purpose.
His masterpiece is perhaps the Inadzuma Hidshi, one
of those tales of revenge of which the Japanese popular
literature contains many examples. The characters are
so numerous and the plot so complicated that it is impos-
sible to give an adequate summary of it here. Amongst
the incidents related are several murders and homicides,
described with much vigour and an abundance of grue-
some details, a hara-kiri and other suicides, thefts, sales
of women by their relatives, terrific combats, hairbreadth
escapes, dying speeches of great length, tortures, strange
meetings, and surprising recognitions. There is an ex-
cellent description of a Japanese fair, with its booths of
KIODEN 349
merchandise, its lecturers, quack-doctors, fortune-tellers,
and shows of wonders. There are beauteous maidens
at the sight of whom the moon hides her head for shame
and the flowers close, demons of smallpox and of suicide,
scenes of witchcraft and enchantment, with
" Dreajns, magic terrors^ spells of mighty power ^
Witches and ghosts who rove at the 7iightly hour."
This is surely a sufficient stock of material with which
to furnish a novel of twenty chapters and about three
hundred pages.
Each chapter, as is the custom with Japanese novelists,
has a sensational heading, such as "The Hovel and
the Strange Stratagem," ''The Danger by the Wayside
Shrine," "The Guitar's Broken String," "The Witchcraft
of the Venomous Rats," "The Drum of Hell."
The following is part of the opening chapter of the
Honcho Suibodai : —
" In the reign of Go Hanazono [fifteenth century] there
was a pilgrim named Shikama no Sonematsu. He had
been told in his youth by a soothsayer that his physiog-
nomy indicated a danger by the sword, so in order to
avoid such a calamity he entered the way of Buddha.
He had no settled residence, but wandered about visiting
one province after another. At length he arrived at a
place called Rokudo, in the district of Atago, in the pro-
vince of Yamashiro. Darkness came on. A wide moor
stretched out before him which afforded no lodging, so
he resolved to spend the night there, and take shelter
under a tree. This Rokudo is a place of burial on the
moor of Toribe, provided for all sorts and conditions of
men. Here the monuments of the dead stand in long
rows, some overgrown with moss, some freshly carved.
3 so JAPANESE LITERATURE
Not a day elapses in which some one does not pass to
exile here. Dew [of tears] follows upon dew, one smoke
[of cremation] succeeds another without an interval.
The lines —
' The name remains^ the form has vanished^
The bones beneath the fir-clad moufid
Are changed to ashes in the grassy mead'' —
must have been said of some such place as this. An
utterly wild and dismal moor it was, the deep grass
drenched with dew, and here and there a bleached bone
showing among it. A weird, uncanny spot indeed, fit
to inspire such sentiments as those of the poet, who
says —
' He is gone to his long home,
And we who no%u return
Will one day follow hi^n
On the rugged path
That leads to Hades.
While in such gloomy thoughts immersed^
The moon glimmering through the smoke [of cremation"]
Seems like a crag of the Eagle's Mounts ^
" Well, then, our pilgrim Sonematsu, brushing away the
dew from the moss below an ancient fir-tree, put down
his portable shrine. It was the season of the festival of
the dead, so by way of a fire to light their path from
Hades [the dead are supposed to revisit the earth at this
time], he gathered some leaves and kindled them, the dew
upon them standing for the offering of water. Then
turning to the Buddha of the shrine which he carried
with him, and striking his bell, he recited the prayer for
the dead. Whilst he was thus deep in his devotions, the
1 A mountain in India where Buddha preached — put for the other world.
KIODEN 351
moon was shedding a full flood of crystal light, and the
lespedeza, the Platycodon grandiflorumy the Anthesteria
barbata, the valerian, the pampas grass [or something like
it], the Dolichos bulbosuSy and such-like flowers^ were
blossoming luxuriantly and heavy with dew. The shrill
notes of various insects piping with all their might, mingled
with the chanting of the prayers and the sound of the bell,
produced a sense of loneliness and desolation. There
was borne on the wind the boom of a bell struck in some
temple away on the moor, which by the number of its
strokes indicated that the night was already far spent.
His fire, too, had gone out, so the pilgrim thought to
himself, ' I must snatch a short sleep.' He hung up a
tent of oil-paper, and spreading on the grass his rain
coat to keep off the dew of night, with a tree-root for his
pillow he laid himself down. He was soon plunged in
deep slumber, forgetful alike of past and future. But
after awhile he woke, and pricking up his ears, ^ Was
that an insect's cry ? No ! it was a faint, far-off sound of
music' The pilgrim wondered how on this desolate
moor, at this late hour of the night, such beautiful music
could be heard. Was it not an enchantment by some
fox, badger, or wild cat ? Presently he raised up his tent,
and putting out his head, looked round. The weather
had changed, and a night mist had gathered thickly,
obscuring the moon. Even nigh at hand nothing could
be seen. But the music came closer and closer."
The mist clears away, the moon again shines out, and
a splendid palace is seen, which Kioden describes with
great wealth of language. It proves to be inhabited
by the spirits of a wicked lady of noble birth and
her equally wicked retainers, who use the brief respite
1 Such are some of the difficulties of a translator from the Japanese.
352 JAPANESE LITERATURE
granted them from the tortures of hell to plot further
mischief against their former enemies in this life.
One of the few Japanese authors whose fame has
penetrated to Europe is Kiokutei Bakin (i 767-1 848).
In his own country he has no rival. Nine out of ten
Japanese if asked to name their greatest novehst would
reply immediately ^^ Bakin."
He was born in Yedo, and was the youngest of three
sons of a retainer of an official of the Shogun's Govern-
ment, named Matsudaira Shinsei. When only eight,
Bakin was appointed to attend upon the son of his lord,
who was a boy like himself. At the age of thirteen,
unable any longer to endure the tyranny of his young
master, he ran away from home. His elder brother pro-
cured him several other situations, but he had not the
patience to remain in any of them. He was also appren-
ticed to a physician, and became the pupil of a Kanga-
kusha or Chinese scholar, but completed his studies
with neither. At this period of his life he was for a short
time a public fortune-teller at Kanagawa, close to the
treaty port of Yokohama ; but having lost all he possessed
by a flood, he returned to Yedo. Here he made the
acquaintance of the novelist Kioden, who received him
into his house and showed him great kindness. It was
while residing with Kioden that Bakin produced his first
novel (1791). Kioden admired it so much that he ex-
claimed, '^ In twenty or thirty years I shall be forgotten."
In the title-page of this work Bakin describes himself as
Kioden's pupil. It is not creditable to him that at the
height of his fame he tried to destroy all traces of this
fact, and with this object bought up as many copies of
his early publication as he could find.
Through Kioden's influence, Bakin obtained a position
BAKIN 353
as a bookseller's assistant, in which situation he re-
mained three years. A novel which he wrote at this
period, and which was illustrated by Hokusai, was very
successful.
Bakin was a tall, well-built man. One day the manager
of a company of wrestlers came into the bookseller's
shop. He greatly admired Bakin's stature (over six feet),
and said, ^^Join us, my boy, and I promise you a reputa-
tion which will extend everywhere within the four seas."
Bakin laughed, but vouchsafed no answer. The old
Samurai pride still clung to him. The uncle of his em-
ployer, who kept a tea-house, supported by the custom of
an adjoining brothel, proposed to Bakin that he should
marry his daughter, a girl of considerable personal attrac-
tions. Bakin refused disdainfully to become connected
with a family which drew its income from this source.
Brothel-keeping, he said, was no better than begging or
thieving, and he must decline to disgrace the body he had
received from his parents by such a marriage. He left the
bookseller in order to marry the daughter of the widow
of a dealer in shoes in lida-machi, becoming his mother-
in-law's adopted son and heir, as is the Japanese custom.
He was too fond of the pen and ink-slab, however, to
be a good business man, and as soon as his daughter
reached a marriageable age he provided her with a hus-
band, to whom he handed over the shoe business. He
himself went to live with his son, who now held the
position of physician-in-ordinary to the Daimio of Mat-
sumaye. Bakin not only contributed to the household
resources by keeping a school, but earned a consider-
able income from the novels which he produced in
rapid succession. At the age of seventy he became
almost blind, but he still continued his labours, his
354 JAPANESE LITERATURE
widowed daughter-in-law acting as his amanuensis. He
died at the age of eighty-one, after a career as an author
of more than sixty years. The amount of saleable
"copy" produced by Bakin can have few equals in
literary annals. His pen was never at rest, and the
rapidity with which he composed may be inferred from
the circumstance related by himself, that one of his
novels (of about two hundred pages) was completed by
him in a fortnight, "to stay the demands of an impor-
tunate publisher." He is said to have written no fewer
than two hundred and ninety distinct works, many of
which were extremely voluminous. Some authorities
put the figure still higher.
Bakin was not an amiable man. He is described as
upright, but obstinate and unsociable. A single word
which offended him made of him an enemy for life
Even Kioden, to whom he owed so much, could not'
get on with him. The famous artist Hokusai, whoj
illustrated many of his novels,^ had also reason to com
plain of his morose and intractable temper. Edmon
de Goncourt, in his life of Hokusai, says that the quarre
between the painter and Bakin occurred in 1808, an
was caused by the immense success of the illustration
to the Nanka no Yume, of which Bakin was jealous. I
was smoothed over by friends, but broke out again wit
great violence in 181 1, when a continuation of that nove
was brought out. Bakin accused Hokusai of paying n
attention to his text, and demanded that the drawing
should be altered. But the publishers had already en
graved both text and pictures.
It was in consequence of Bakin's recriminations o
^ See Mr. W. Anderson's Catalogue of Japanese Pictures in the British
Museum^ p. 357.
BAKIN 35 5
this occasion that Hokusai turned his attention to pub-
Ushing vokunes of pictures without text.
It is impossible to notice more than a few of Bakin's
pubHcations. The early years of the century were a time
of great literary activity with him. In 1805 he published
the Ymnibari-tsuki ('^The Bow-bend or New Moon"),
which is thought by some to be his masterpiece. It
professes to be an imitation of the Chinese romantic
histories, but departs far more widely from historical
truth, and is indeed a romance pure and simple, though
ci few of the personages have names taken from real
history.
The hero of this story is one Hachiro Tametomo, a
famous archer of the twelfth century, whose adventures
and exploits fill over eight hundred pages of the modern
closely printed edition. For intelligence and valour he
had no peer. His stature was seven feet. He had the
eyes of a rhinoceros, and the arms of a monkey. In
strength he had no equal, and was skilled in drawing the
nine-foot bow. Nature seemed to have destined him for
an archer, for his left arm was four inches longer than
his right. His eyes had each two pupils.
Tametomo on one occasion was allowed to attend a
lecture given before the Mikado by a scholar named
Shinsei. The conversation afterwards turned on the
great archers of ancient and modern times. Tametomo,
at this time a boy of twelve, broke in with the following
speech : —
"■ ' It is useless to discuss the superiority of this one or
that, for among archers of the present day I do not think
there are any who excel Tametomo in repulsing myriads
of stalwart foes.' Shinsei, on hearing this, was so taken
aback that for a while he made no answer. Then bursting
I
356 JAPANESE LITERATURE
suddenly into a boisterous laugh, he said, ^ An art requires
months and years of hewing and polishing before it reaches!
perfection. Even if you had practised since your baby-
hood, you are little over ten years of age. Bethink your-^
self. Men are not wooden figures. If you try to shoot
them, they will try to shoot you. Those who are skilled!
in shooting should also learn to ward off the shafts. Are
you prepared to catch the arrows shot at you ? ' Tame-
tomo, without waiting for him to finish his speech,
replied, ' Hoi, in his eighth year, acted as general for the
Chinese Emperor Shun ; Duke Yeki, in his ftfth year,
had the direction of fire. Wisdom and folly, skill, and
the want of it, are not to be reckoned by years. Be
pleased to summon archers the most nimble-handed.
Even though it were the arrows endued with understand-
ing of the goddess Kwannon, I will show you how easily
I shall catch them.' Shinsei, who from the first had
intended to give him a sharp lesson, at the unflinching
attitude of Tametomo became highly exasperated. Pro
bably thinking it an opportunity for making a display of
his own influence, he stood up abruptly and called out^
^ Who are in attendance ? Let them bring bows and
arrows.' *Your will shall be obeyed,' was the answer.
Two of the Imperial Guards, named Norishige and Nori-
kazu, now advanced with bows and arrows to the foot of
the stairs [leading from the courtyard up to the hall where
the Mikado held his court]. Shinsei, turning to them,
explained the circumstances, and told them to have
shot at this youngster.
"Now, these two guards were originally soldiers of
the Emperor Shirakawa, and skilled archers. When
Gotoba no In came to the throne they were enlisted
in the Imperial Guards. Once the Mikado gave them
BAKIN 3 57
:i target of 3J feet in diameter, telling them to shoot
away its centre. The order was given at the hour of
the Serpent [ten o'clock], and the target was returned
without its centre at the hour of the Rat [two o'clock].
^ Yoyu himself could do no better,' exclaimed everybody
in admiration. These men were now advanced in years,
but their vigour had not failed. Even my Lord Yorinaga
thought that Tametomo, had he six arms, could never
escape the arrows of such archers. He could no longer
bear to look on, and, turning to Shinsei, said, ^Tame-
tomo, though he has a grown-up appearance, is still, so
to speak, a yellow-mouthed boy. Even a joke should
have some relation to the person it is practised on. This
conduct is most unlike Shinsei.' Then turning to Tame-
yoshi [the boy's father], he advised him to retire at once
and take his son with him. Tameyoshi, who up till now
had remained silent, replied with deep respect, ^Tame-
tomo is only twelve, but he is no longer a baby. If he
does not stand the test on this occasion, I would call it
worse than to turn his back on the enemy. I could bear
the loss of one son without regret. What I should hate
would be to disgrace the soldier-fame of the house of
Gen, established for many generations. I earnestly
beseech your Lordship to grant your permission, and
allow the matter to proceed as Shinsei wishes.'
^^ Yorinaga offered no further opposition. Tametomo
was delighted, and addressed Shinsei as follows : ' Nori-
shige and Norikazu are peerless bowmen. To be a target
for their shafts is an inappreciable boon. But if I fail to
seize their arrows my life will end in a moment. I am
therefore placing it in your hands. What will you give me
if I succeed in catching their arrows ? ' Shinsei smiled.
' If you succeed, this head of mine shall be your recom-
358
JAPANESE LITERATURE
pense. Shinsei belongs to the Gate of Buddha, and
should you now be slain, he will not continue his revenge
after your death.' Tametomo paid no attention to this
taunt, but rushed down into the larger courtyard and
stood up at the distance of a bowshot. . . . The two
archers took two arrows each, and stood over against
him. Not only the sovereign but all present wrung their
hands till they perspired, expecting every moment to see
Tametomo's life fade faster than the clear dew beneath
the sunbeams. Norishige fitted an arrow to his bow,:
and drawing it till it bent into a full moon, let fly with
an accompanying shout. With his right hand Tametomo
caught the arrow in the nick of time, while with his left
he stopped the shaft which Norikazu the next moment
shot at him just as it flew close to his heart. ^ A miss !
exclaimed the two archers, disappointed. ^We don'f
want to kill him, but this time he won't catch our
arrows.' They drew their bows together, and watching
a proper moment, let fly with a whiz. One arrow Tame-
tomo stayed by entangling it in the sleeve of his garment \
but as he had no other means of catching the second, h
seized it firmly between his teeth, and at once crunched
its head to atoms. All this was done with a rapidity
which may be compared to the flickering air dancing
over the hot ground, or to the lightning's flash. To all
the spectators it seemed more than human. They felt as
if intoxicated. It was beyond all praise, and no one said
a word. Tametomo flung aside the arrows to right and
left. ^ Now, your Reverence, you will be so good as
to give me your head,' he cried, and springing up the
stairs, was about to take hold of Shinsei, when his father,
Tameyoshi, interfered."
Tametomo has to leave Kioto for political reasons. He
BAKIN 3 59
goes clown to Kiushiii, where he has a number of surpris-
ing adventures. He becomes possessed of a wonderful
crane, and an equally remarkable tame wolf. A strange
hunter, who has neither bow nor shafts, but who brings
down his prey by stones flung with marvellous precision
to an incredible distance, attaches himself to his service.
With him he proceeds to Loochoo, where, among other
adventures, he falls over a cliff '' several thousand feet "
to the bottom. He is a little stunned, but walks home
afterwards as if nothing had happened. He subsequently
goes to Hachijo and other islands off the Bay of Yedo,
and then again to Loochoo, where the principal events of
the story take place.
Bakin's Seiyuki^ or "Journey to the West" (1806), is
not an original work, but an adaptation of the well-
known Chinese romance Siyuki, in which a Buddhist
ecclesiastic, attended by a magician-monkey and a semi-
human hog, goes to India from China in order to
procure Buddhist scriptures. It is full of supernatural
occurrences from beginning to end,^ and is wholly lack-
ing in human interest.
He also translated the Shui-hsii-ch! uan {Sui-ko-den in
Japanese), a much more amusing Chinese story, which
fills over two thousand pages of small print in the
modern Japanese edition. The influence of these and
other Chinese romances is very noticeable in the works
of Bakin and his school.
The Nanka no Yume (1807) is a story of fairyland in
the Chinese manner.
The Shichiya no Kura ('' Pawnbroker's Store "), 1810.—
1 An episode of this story has been dramatised in Japan. A version of
this in the Ingoldsby legend style is given in M'Clatchie's Japanese Plays
Versified.
36o JAPANESE LITERATURE
I
In this work a pawnbroker lying awake at night hears
a noise in his storehouse. He peeps in and sees thej
pledges deposited there assembled in conclave. Each]
tells its story.
The MusdbidyeKosho Monogatari^ is an allegorical novel
in which the hero visits the Land of Childhood, the Land
of Lust, the Land of Drunkenness, the Land of Avarice,
the Village of Lies, the Village of Sinful Desires, the
Village of Grief, and the Village of Pleasure. The idea
is borrowed from the older work Wasobioyey noticed in
a previous chapter. It is very learned, intensely moral,
and insufferably tedious. The same criticism will apply
to the Shichiya no Kura,
The most famous of Japanese novels is the enormous
work entitled Hakkenden. Begun in 1814, it was not
finished until 1841. In its original form it consisted of
one hundred and six volumes, and even in the modern
reprint it forms four thick volumes of nearly three
thousand pages.
The Hakkenden ('^ Story of the Eight Dogs ") narrates ;
the adventures and exploits of eight heroes of semi-
canine parentage, who represent the eight cardinal
virtues. After a perusal of some hundreds of pages of
this work I can only express my amazement at its extra-
ordinary popularity in Japan. It is full of physical and
moral impossibilities, and, worse still, is often pedantic
and wearisome. Yet it was greedily bought up by the
public. The wood-engravers came daily for copy, and
as soon as a part was ready it was printed off in an
^ This work has been translated into English by L. Mordwin (Yokohama,
1 88 1). An English version of Bakin's Kuma no taye/na amnyo no tsuki, by
Edward Greey, was published in Boston in 1886. A French translation of his
Okonia appeared in Paris in 1883.
BAKIN 361
edition of ten thousand copies, creating a demand for
paper which, we are told, appreciably affected the
market-price of that commodity.
In addition to his novels, Bakin wrote a miscellany
entitled Yenseki Zasshi, which gives interesting informa-
tion on such subjects as folk-lore and popular supersti-
tions. His Gendo Hogen is another work of a somewhat
similar character. He also wrote an account of a journey
to Kioto in 1802, which was published long after his
death.
Bakin's writings have some obvious merits. They
^ prove, sometimes only too conclusively, that he was a
man of great learning, intimately acquainted with the
history, religion, literature, and folk-lore both of China
and Japan. His style is usually flowing, perspicuous,
and elegant, and he possesses a command of the re-
sources of his own tongue unique among his contem-
poraries. His language is a happy medium between the
purism of such writers as Motoori and the semi-Chinese
jargon of the later Kangakusha. It is honourable to him
that at a time when pornography was the rule rather
than the exception with writers of fiction, his writings are
free from all indecency of language, and are invariably
moral in their tendency. They alone were excluded
from the sweeping prohibitive measure directed against
light literature by the Shogun's Government in 1842.
Perhaps the quality which most strikes European
readers of Bakin's novels is his prodigious fertility of in-
vention. The number and variety of surprising incidents
with which they are crowded can have few parallels. On
the other hand, his faults are as glaring as his merits are
conspicuous. For the profusion of incidents with which
he crowds his pages, he has recourse to his memory as
362 JAPANESE LITERATURE
i
well as to his invention, and, what is worse, he constantly
overleaps the bounds of possibility to an extent whicl
tries the patience of the most indulgent reader. The
deus ex machind, in the shape of a ghost, demon, oi
supernaturally gifted animal, is in far too frequent re
quisition. His moral ideals are of the common con-
ventional type of his day and country, the product o]
the teachings of China grafted on a Japanese stock. Hi{
power of delineating character is extremely limited, anc
reminds us very much of the portrait-painting of Japanes
pictorial art. He has little or no humour, and his wit is
mainly of the verbal kind. The sentiment of love is deal
with by him in a way which is to us very unsatisfactory
While he can describe the mischief produced by un
lawful passion, and wifely fidelity and devotion are his
frequent themes, such things as the gradual growth o:
the sentiment in man or woman, the ennobling influenc<
if^$ of a pure love, and all the more delicate shades of feeling
:::^ are wholly neglected by him. The pathos which nativi
admirers find in his works fails to move his Europeai
readers, although they are not insensible to the sam«
quality in other Japanese authors. In short, humai
nature as depicted by Bakin is far too sophisticated t(
appeal to our sympathies. He shows us men and womei
as they might be if constructed on principles derivec
from the Chinese sages and their Japanese expositors
and goes for his material to books rather than to real
life. It is characteristic of him, that unlike many of the
dramatists and novelists of his time, he avoids the common
speech for his dialogue, and confines himself entirely to
the more stilted literary language.
Bakin's style, which is his strong point, is occasionally
disfigured by lapses into fine writing adorned with pivot-
BAKIN 363
words 1 and other artifices of Japanese rhetoric irritating
to all plain-minded people. Nor can he always resist the
temptation of bestowing on his readers tedious displays
of his erudition, or of introducing foreign or obsolete
words not understanded of the people.
It may be a question whether the rhythmical character
of much that Bakin has written is a merit or a defect. It
results from the more or less regular alternation of five
and seven syllable phrases so often referred to, and pro-
duces much the same effect as the blank verse to which
some English novelists are addicted. Bakin borrowed
it from the popular dramatists of the preceding century ;
but while it is obviously in its proper place on the stage,
where the words are chanted to a musical accompani-
ment, it seems a more doubtful kind of ornament in an
ordinary romance. Japanese critics have an unquaHfied
admiration for this feature of Bakin's works, and suggest
that it entitles the Hakkenden to be classed among epic
poems.
^ The more frivolous of my readers will perhaps pardon the following
attempt to give an example of the sort of thing which we might have if the
pivot style were adopted in English. It illustrates the mode in which Japanese
novelists and dramatists frequently slur over the transition from one scene .
to another by a use of this device ; something on the same principle as their ' '
artists introduce a golden mist between different parts of the landscape in order • '
to disguise defects of perspective.
•' The sun went down, and the welcome, the thrice- wished for, the most
fair, the best beloved ^-l^. sought a well-earned repose. On the morrow he
rose from his couch at T'^'^ned his armour and sallied forth in quest of
fresh adventuresome as was his bold spirit, his courage was now to be put to a
testy old ?^! of meat as an egg-shaped domes, slender minarets, and square-
built towers rose in picturesque confusion from the summit of a hill where
dwelt," &c., &c.
364 JAPANESE LITERATURE
It may be thought that the above is too low an esti
mate of a writer whose enormous popularity with al
classes of his own countrymen is unquestionable
therefore append the judgment of the authors of the
only native History of Japanese Literature. It will en
able the reader to correct any injustice which may hav
been done by the barbarous Western critic.
'' Bakin was a man of immense erudition. His flow o
ideas was profuse. When he took up his pen, a thousanc
words were quickly formed, long chapters fell from hi*
hand. He, nevertheless, from time to time, used deep
thought and mature reflection, giving profound atten
tion to plot and construction. His pen darted hithei
and thither, following his thoughts wherever they went
accompanying his sentiments wherever they turned them
selves. In describing men and events, his style changec
with the change of subject. Many there have been ir
ancient and modern times who gave their attention tc
style, each of whom has his own particular merits. Some
excel in depicting scenes of grief and affliction, some o
gladness and jollity, while others possess unrivalled gifts
of indignant or satirical language. But how many are
there who, like Bakin, can build on so vast a scale,
and include within their scope the billows of mankind
with all their varied capacities and qualities ? How
many possess the styles fitted for this purpose wherein
are seen ever and anon magical things which far tran-
scend our comprehension ? In short, Bakin comprises
in himself the best points of many men. We see in
him numerous resemblances to Shakespeare. It is not
only women and children, tradespeople and peasants,
who admire him. Even educated gentlemen are fre-
quently moved to tears or laughter, or made to gnash
TANEHIKO 365
their teeth and strain their arms [with rage] by his
writings."
That there is some truth in this I am not con-
cerned to deny. I nevertheless venture the prediction
that when the Japanese people have more completely
shaken off, as they are doing every year, the Chinese
influences which have moulded their character and
formed their tastes for centuries, Bakin's heroes and
heroines will appear to them as grotesque and unreal
as they do to us. His works will then be relegated to
the same limbo which contains the romances of chivalry
so dear to Europe before Cervantes, and be regarded
merely as a document of a passing phase of the national
development.
The best known of Bakin's contemporaries is Riutei
Tanehiko (1783-1842), a Samurai of the Tokugawa house,
from which he received an annual allowance of two
hundred bales of rice. Like Kioden, he was in early
life an artist. He also practised Haikai writing with
some degree of success. As a writer of fiction he is
best known for his romantic novels ; but he also pub-
lished stories in dramatic form (shohonjidate), meant only
for reading, and not for the stage. Another kind of
novel, of which he wrote a few volumes, was the ninjobon
or *^ sentiment book," which will be noticed presently.
He was also the author of several works which are of a
useful character, but have no pretensions to be regarded
as literature.
Among his novels may be mentioned the Awa no
Naruto (1807), the Asamagatake Omokage Zoshi (1808),
and its continuation the Shujaku Monogatari (181 2).
The plot of the last two works is taken from an old
play, and the scene is in the fourteenth century.
366 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Tanehiko's principal work, the Inaka Genjiy *^ A RusiT
Genji " (in ninety volumes), is an imitation of the Genj\
Monogatariy the well-known romance of the Heian perio
It was a great success, and other authors, by choosin
titles which included the word Genji, endeavoured t
persuade the public that their works were of a similar
character. In 1842 the Shogun's Government tooi
measures to suppress publications of an immoral tend-
ency. The Inaka Genji was considered objectionable on
this score, and Tanehiko received a private intimation
that he had better give up writing novels. He was onl^^
too glad to escape so cheaply, as any official condemna-
tion would have entailed the loss of his allowance from
the Government.
I have not had access to this work. It is much ad-
mired by native critics for its style and sentiment ; am
the illustrations, to which Tanehiko attached great im
portance, set an example to which was due a markec
improvement in Japanese wood-engraving.
Tanehiko's shohonjidate or dramatic stories diffe:
chiefly from ordinary Japanese novels by the prepon-*
derance of dialogue over narrative, and by the choice
of the ordinary spoken language for the speeches of the
characters. They are also more realistic, and vary less
violently from actual living manners, than the romantic
novel.
The great defect of his books is their want of human
interest. Like Kioden, Bakin, and the other novelists of
the romantic school, Tanehiko accepts implicitly the
conventional standards of honour and morality, and
deviates little from the types of character which were the
common property of the writers of his day. Indeed he
carries unreal sentiment and artificial rules of conduct
SAMBA 367
to a more fantastic extreme than either of his rivals.
Human nature is travestied by him in such a manner as
to be no longer recognisable. How can one take any
interest in a heroine of fifteen years of age who sets out
to travel through Japan in quest of her father's murderer
with the intention of making love to him and thus find-
ing an opportunity for putting him to death ? Or in the
murderer himself, who is a magician with the power of
making himself invisible, but who finds no better use
for such a gift than to rob unsuspecting travellers ? In
another work of Tanehiko's the hero submits patiently to
be insulted and beaten in the presence of his inamorata
by her temporary owner, and then indemnifies himself
by waylaying his enemy in a lonely spot with the inten-
tion of assassinating him. It is true that the author tries
to save his credit a little by making him, in the first place,
discharge his money obligations to his intended victim.
It is to be regretted that Tanehiko's writings should be
marred by so vital a defect. They contain many interest-
ing glimpses of manners and customs in a state of society
which has now passed away, and his style, when not too
ornate, is graceful and pleasing.
Shikitei Samba (1775-1822) — his numerous aliases
may be omitted — was a native of Yedo. He belonged
to the trading class, and in his boyhood was apprenticed
to a bookseller. He subsequently opened a book-shop
on his own account. His first work was written in 1794,
when he was in his nineteenth year. In 1799 he was
reported to the authorities by some person who objected
to the immoral tendency of his writings. His parents
and relatives, alarmed on his account, urged him to
give up authorship, but he refused to do so. He was
a prolific writer. Among his numerous publications
368 JAPANESE LITERATURE
I
he is now remembered chiefly by two — the Ukiyo-fun
and the Ukiyo-toko. The Ukiyo-furo was first pubUshec
in 1809 ; but the blocks having been burnt, a seconc
enlarged edition was brought out in 181 1. The name o
this work means ^' The World's Bath-house." It consists
of a series of realistic sketches of everyday life, something
in the manner of Mr. Anstey's Voces Populi, a certain unitj
being given to them by assigning the dialogues to th
frequenters of a public bath-house — an institution wel
known in Japan as a centre of gossip for the neighbour-
hood. In the preface Samba protests that he writes in
the interests of morality. ^^ In bringing up children/' he
says, "we give them bitter pills and sweet malt-extract
The Chinese classics resemble the pills, while novels
and stories correspond to the sweet stuff. Both convey
instruction, though in different ways." The edifyin
character of the Ukiyo-furo is not very obvious to s
casual observer, but it is undeniably amusing. Somi
Japanese critics rank it even before the Hizakurige. I
any one cares to know what subjects are discussed b)
Japanese of the middle and lower classes when thej
meet, he will find ample means of gratifying his curiO'
sity in this work. Here is a conversation between two
matrons at the bath-house : —
Mrs. A. Well ! I have tried lots of servants, but I find that
instead of their serving you, it is you who have to serve them.
Mrs. B. Really ? But I thought the maid who was with you
till last year was such an amiable girl.
Mrs. A. Yes, and she was bound over to me for a long term \
but as she had a good offer, I married her off and let her go.
Mrs. B. That was very nice of you.
Mrs. A. The one I have now has such a temper that I don't
know what to do. If I reprove her she gets into a rage and
IKKU 369
smashes everything, and if I humour her it makes her so con-
ceited. The worst of it is that when I he down to sleep I cannot
get that face of hers out of my mind.
Mrs. B. Our hussy Rin is just as bad. She is always putting
herself forward, and talking when she is not wanted. So she gets
the place to herself, and as soon as she has cleared away the
breakfast things she goes upstairs and spends half the day doing
her hair. Then, until I tell her to get dinner ready, she is always
going out, as she says, to hang out the washing, but really for
gossip. There is not a day that she does not excite herself about
matters of course, crying and laughing over them, but grudging
to take pains with her needful work. She will take up a pail, and
with " I am going to fetch water, ma'am," off she goes to the well,
and does not get back for a couple of hours. No wonder ! When
she is not making a fool of herself with all the young men in the
row, she joins girls like herself in abusing the masters and mis-
tresses. The other day I wondered what they were talking about,
so I slipped behind the outhouse, and there she was praising her
last master, &c., &c.
The Ukiyo-toko ("The World's Barber's Shop") is of a
similar character. Other works of Samba are the Kokon
Hiakunin Baka (^^ One Hundred Fools Ancient and
Modern ") and Shijiuhachi Kuse (" The Forty-eight
Humours").
His works had a great popularity and have been often
imitated.
JiPPENSHA Ikku ( ?-i83i) was the son of a petty
official of Suruga. His early life was very unsettled. We
hear of his holding small appointments in Yedo and
Osaka, and his name appears with those of two others
on the title-page of a play written for an Osaka theatre.
He was three times married. On the first two occasions
he was received into families as irimukOy that is, son-in-
law and heir. In Japan such situations are notoriously
2 A
370 JAPANESE LITERATURE
precarious and unsatisfactory. "Don't become an zrz4
muko/' says the proverb, " if you possess one j^o of rice.'j
Ikku did not remain long with either of these wives. Ven
Hkely his parents-in-law objected to his Bohemian habits
and dismissed him. In his third marriage he was careful
not to sacrifice his freedom. Ikku's biographers relate
many stories of his eccentricities. Once when on a visit toj
a wealthy citizen of Yedo he took a great fancy to a bath-
tub. His host presented it to him, and Ikku thereupoi
insisted on carrying it home through the streets, inverte(
over his head, confounding with his ready wit the pas-
sengers who objected to his blindly driving against them,
One New Year's Day a publisher came to pay him the
usual visit of ceremony. Ikku received him with great
courtesy, and prevailed on him, somewhat to his be-
wilderment, to have a bath. No sooner had his guest
retired for this purpose than Ikku walked off to make his
own calls in the too confiding publisher's ceremonial
costume, Ikku not being possessed of one of his own.
On his return, some hours later, he was profuse in his
thanks, but said not a word of apology.
When he was engaged in composition he squatted on
the floor in a room where books, pens, inkstone, dinner-
tray, pillow, and bedding lay about in confusion, not an
inch of free space being left. Into this disorderly sanctum
no servant was ever admitted.
Ikku's ready money went too often to pay for drink,
and his house lacked even the scanty furniture which is
considered necessary in Japan. He therefore hung his
walls with pictures of the missing articles. On festival
days he satisfied the requirements of custom, and pro-
pitiated the gods by offerings of the same unsubstantial
kind.
IKKU 371
On his deathbed he left instructions that his body
should not be washed, but cremated just as it was, and
enjoined on his pupils to place along with it certain
closed packets which he entrusted to them. The funeral
prayers having been read, the torch was applied, when
presently, to the astonishment of his sorrowing friends
and pupils, a series of explosions took place, and a dis-
play of shooting stars issued from the corpse. The
precious packets contained fireworks.
Ikku's first work, exclusive of the dramatic piece above
mentioned, was published in 1796 at Yedo, where he had
then been settled for six or seven years. Others followed,
but it is useless to enumerate them, as their fame has
been eclipsed by that of the Hizakurtge, the great work
with which Ikku's name is always associated.
The Hizakurige was published in twelve parts, the first
of which appeared in 1802, the last not until 1822. It
occupies a somewhat similar position in Japan to that
of the Pickwick Papers in this country, and is beyond
question the most humorous and entertaining book in
the Japanese language. Hizakurige iociQ-2iX\s '' knee-chest-
nut-horse," the Japanese equivalent for our *' shank's
mare." It is the history of the travels, mostly on foot, as
the title indicates, of two worthies named Yajirobei and
Kidahachi along the Tokaido and other great highways
of Japan, and of their manifold adventures and mishaps.
Yajirobei, Yajiro, or Yaji, as he is indifferently called, is
an elderly man of the shopkeeper class, whom some
Japanese insist on identifying with Ikku himself. There
are points of resemblance, but this, like most such identi-
fications, is in reality fallacious. Indeed there is a passage
in the fifth part of the Hizakurige which seems intended
as a repudiation of the suggestion. Yaji is here repre-
372 JAPANESE LITERATURE
sented as involved in cruel embarrassments by an attempt
to impose himself on some provincial virtuosos as the
renowned poet and novelist Jippensha Ikku. Ikku says
elsewhere that Yaji was intended as a tada no oyaji or
" ordinary elderly man." But in truth he is neither
Jippensha Ikku nor yet a tada no oyaji. He and his
younger companion belong to that class who having
never lived can never die. They are humble but not.
unworthy members of the illustrious fraternity which
includes Falstaif, Sancho Panza, Sam Weller, and Tar-
tarin — to us far more real personages than any originals
which may have supplied hints for them.
Yaji and Kida are by no means heroes. They are
cowardly, superstitious, and impudent. Lies, "gross as
a mountain, open, palpable," fall from their Hps on the
smallest provocation or in mere wantonness. Yaji has
a certain share of good sense and bonhomie which goes
some way to redeem his character, but Kida is a fool
positive whose idiotic sallies and ill-advised amorous
schemes are continually entangling him in scrapes from
which it requires all the wit and s avoir fair e of his elder
companion to extricate him. Nor is Yaji, from a moral
point of view, much better. Both are, in sooth, shame-
less wights, whose moral principles are on a par with
those of Falstaff or Sir Harry Wildairs, and for whose
indecency of speech and conduct even Rabelais hardly
affords an adequate comparison. The most that can be
said for them is that their grossness is the grossness of
the natural uncultured man, and not the con amore con-
centrated filth which revolts us in some European authors,
and that with two continents and a wide gulf of social
and racial differences intervening, their indecency some-
how creates less disgust than if they were Englishmen
IKKU 373
or Frenchmen. Still, people of nice taste had better not
read the Hizakurige.
It is hopeless by translation to give any idea of the
copious flow of rollicking humour which pervades every
page of this really wonderful book. Those who have
read it will not forget the scene in a roadside inn where
some terrapins laid on a shelf overnight come out when
Yaji, Kida, and their party are all sound asleep, and in-
sinuate themselves among the bedding ; or Kida's misad-
venture at the river ford with the two blind men who had
agreed that one should carry the other over on his back.
Yaji cleverly substitutes himself, and so crosses over dry-
shod. But Kida, in endeavouring to follow his example,
is detected, and shot off in mid-stream. Then there is
the scene in which a strolling medium (a young woman)
delivers to Yaji a terrific but untranslatable message
from his deceased wife, who adds a climax to his fright
by proposing to come and pay him occasional friendly
visits ; and one where Yaji, fancying that Kida is a fox
which has taken the shape of his friend, belabours him
soundly to make him resume his natural vulpine form.
Another amusing scene is one in which the owner of the
pack-horse which Kida is riding, meets a man to whom
the animal had been assigned as security for a debt.
The creditor threatens to foreclose then and there. As
the negotiations between the two sway backward and
forward, Kida is made alternately to mount and dismount,
until at last the situation is cleared by the horse bolting
with debtor and creditor in hot pursuit, while Kida is
left bruised and shaken on the ground where he had
fallen.
The great drawback to the fun of the Hizakurige is
that it is unreUeved by more serious matter. Doubtless
374 JAPANESE LITERATURE
tea- I
the
Bottom the weaver and Falstaff would still be amusing
even if they stood by themselves, but they gain immea
surably by contrast with the poetry of fairy-land and the
stately court of Theseus in the one case, and with grave
political surroundings on the other. In the Hizakurige
there is no suggestion of serious thought or feeling ; all
is broad, frequently even farcical humour. It is, how-
ever, excellent fooling of its kind.
There can be no greater contrast than that between
Ikku and the romantic school of novelists. He repu-
diates utterly their entire equipment of fantastic notions
of right and wrong, artificial sentiment, supernatural
interventions, impossible exploits, and euphuistic line-
writing. He is a realistic writer in the good as well as
in the bad sense of the word. The Hizakurige is a
picture of real life, for every detail of which Ikku has
drawn on his own observation. We know that he actually
travelled through the places which are the scenes of his
heroes' exploits ; but even if there were no record of the
fact, it is obvious to every reader who knows Japan.
There is little word-painting or description of scenery,
but the human life of the great highways is depicted with
photographic accuracy, and with a verve and humour
which no mere observation, however minute, could ever
impart. We see the Daimio's train, slow-moving, silent,
and imposing — but nevertheless containing a rowdy ele-
ment—and hear Yaji and Kida's very free criticisms as
they squat humbly by the roadside until the great man
has passed. The religious processions, noisy and dis-
orderly, are treated by them with more open ridicule.
We meet provincial Samurai, the butt of the more quick-
witted citizens of Yedo, obsequious innkeepers, facile
waiting-maids, begging priests, Renins, Komuso (criminals
IKKU 375
of the Samurai class who have been permitted to become
priests, and who lead a wandering life with their faces
wholly concealed under immense basket-hats), pilgrims
(who nowadays travel by excursion trains with tickets
available for two months from date of issue), boy pilgrims
to the shrines of Ise with all the precocious shrewdness
of a gamin or a street arab, Tome-onna or female touts
who beset the highway near their master's inn at sun-
down and wheedle or hustle the traveller into it, coolies
with their degraded dialect (all Ikku's personages use the
language and speak the dialect proper to them), thieves,
jugglers, rustics, ferrymen, horse-boys, and many more.
Most of these have disappeared for ever, but they still
live in Ikku's pages to delight many a future generation
of readers.
It has been said that there are no terms of vulgar abuse
in the Japanese language. The compliments exchanged
by the coolies and pack-horse men in the Hizakurige are
a sufficient answer to this rash assertion. There is more
truth in the statement that profane language is unknown
in Japan. A European Yaji and Kida would certainly
have been as richly supplied with terms of this kind as
Ernulphus or our armies in Flanders, but the only oath
uttered by the heroes of the Hizakurige is the very mild
Naniu San or Namu Sambo, that is to say, by the three
holy things, namely, Buddha, the Law, and the Priest-
hood. Paradoxical though it may appear, this is pro-
bably owing to the want of any very deep-seated
sentiment of piety in the Japanese nation. Their lan-
guage is equally deficient in such phrases as *^ God
bless you," ''Thank God," and "Adieu."
'^.'je JAPANESE LITERATURE
The Ninjobon
I
All students of Japanese literature are familiar with
the Ninjobon or Sentiment Book, a species of novel
which flourished most in the third and fourth decades
of the nineteenth century. It was at last prohibited
by the Government, like its predecessor and model the
Share-bon.
The best known writer of this class of story was
Tamenaga Shunsui, who also called himself (after 1829)
Kiokuntei. He was a pupil of Samba. Shunsui was a
bookseller of Yedo. He began his literary career with
some tales of an unedifying character, which he styled
Fujo Kwanzen no Tame (" For the Encouragement of
Women in the Paths of Virtue "). He died in 1842 whilst
undergoing a sentence of confinement to his own house
in handcuffs for publishing works of a tendency pre-
judicial to public morals. The blocks from which they
were printed were at the same time destroyed. Even
his admirers cannot say that Shunsui's punishment was
altogether unmerited.
One of Shunsui's best known stories is the Mume
Koyomi (^^ Plum Calendar "), with its continuation en-
titled Shunshoku Tatsumi no Sono {'^ Spring - Colour
Eastern-Garden "), which appeared in 1833. It is a
novel of low life, and the characters are singing-girls,
harlots, Ronins, professional jesters, and the like. Its
morality cannot be defended, but in decency of lan-
guage it is superior to the Hizakurige^ and even to the
Ukiyo-furo,
The Iroha Bunko, which is considered Shunsui's greatest
work, is not a typical Ninjobon, though from some points
SHUNSUI 377
of view it belongs to this class of literature. It is one of
the numerous versions of the story of the revenge of the
forty-seven Renins. Few worse arranged books have
ever been written. The scenes of which it is composed
have no sort of order, chronological or otherwise, and in
many cases have no obvious connection with the main
action of the book. Shunsui, in writing it, seems to have
had two objects in view, irreconcilable with each other.
One was to produce a historical narrative (he describes
it as a true record) enriched by matter drawn from
genuine documents ; the other to enhance the interest
of the story by the addition of imaginative details. As
a contribution to historical research the Iroha Bunko
is worthless. It is not always possible to distinguish
Shunsui the historian from Shunsui the romancist ; and
in order to comply with the edict forbidding novelists to
meddle with real personages of the Yedo period, he was
obliged to garble his materials, transferring the scene of
the story from Yedo to Kamakura, and from the eight-
eenth to the fourteenth century, and altering the names
of the characters. In this he was only following the
example of the Chtushingura, the famous drama which
deals with the same subject. The judicious reader will
skip his historical disquisitions, nor care, for example, to
follow him in discussing the question of the precise date
when shops for the sale of buckwheat vermicelli were
first established as separate institutions. He will turn
from such muda-banashi (vain talk), as Shunsui himself
calls it, to the scenes where he abandons his facts, and
endeavours by the help of a sympathetic imagination
to realise the feelings and emotions of the actors in the
tragedy, filling in their surroundings, supplying them
with parents, wives, sweethearts, or children, inventing
378 JAPANESE LITERATURE
romantic incidents and passionate speeches, and, in'
short, converting them from vaguely outHned person-
ages of history into real men and women.
The great service rendered by Shunsui and his fellow-
composers of Ninjobon was to recall the attention of
writers and readers of fiction to human nature as the
proper subject of the novelist's art. Since the time of
Murasaki no Shikibu this branch of study had been
sadly neglected in Japan. The novelists of the romantic
school were too much occupied with sensational situa-
tions, hairbreadth escapes, and supernatural wonders, to
study the human heart with its affections and passions ;
while Ikku and Samba, though excellent in their way,
were humourists and nothing more.
The Ninjobon, it is true, do not show us human
nature at its best. The society into which they intro-
duce the reader is far from select, and the morality sadly
defective. But the vital element of fiction is there. We
find in these works real human beings depicted in such
a way that we can follow their fortunes with interest,
and sympathise with them in their joys and sorrows.
The dialogue of the Ninjobon is in the ordinary col-
loquial language of Yedo, the narrative portion in the
written style.
Amongst other Ninjobon may be mentioned the Tsuge
no Ogushi {i%2i^), by Jippensha Ikku the younger ; Imose-
dori (n. d.), by Tamenaga Shunga, a pupil of Shunsui ;
Musume Setsuyd (183 1) and Musume Taiheiki (1837), by
Kiokusanjin ; and Ternari Sannin MusmnCy by Shotei
Kinsui.
During the remainder of the Yedo period Japanese!
fiction presents no feature of special interest. A goodj
many novels were produced in the several styles de-
WORKS IN CHINESE 379
scribed above, but there was no new departure and no
writer of conspicuous merit.
Works in the Chinese Language
During the Yedo period the Chinese language held a
position in Japan similar to that of Latin in Europe
during the Middle Ages. It was the vehicle of all
literature of a serious kind, and more especially of his-
tory. Japanese scholars attained to great skill in com-
position in the literary dialect of the Han dynasty, a
period which may be taken as corresponding for China
to the Augustan era in Rome.
One of the chief historical works of this kind was the
Dainihonshi, a history of Japan from the accession of
the first Mikado, Jimmu Tenno, B.C. 660, to the abdica-
tion of Go Komatsu in a.d. 1413, which, with its nume-
rous addenda, extends to one hundred volumes. It was
written by a number of scholars engaged for that pur-
pose by Mitsukuni, Prince of Mito, and was completed
about 1715, although not printed until 1851. The Daini-
honshi is much admired for its concise and elegant style.
The Nikon Gwaishi, which was brought out by Rai
Sanyo in 1837, is probably the best known work of its
class in Japan. It relates the history of the Shogunate
from its beginnings in the twelfth century down to the
establishment of the Tokugawa dynasty of Shoguns under
lyeyasu in the beginning of the seventeenth century.
Both this and the last-named work are invaluable for the
study of Japanese history ; but they present few attrac-
tions to ordinary European readers, who will heartily
concur in the unflattering estimate of the Gwaishi con-
tained in Mr. Chamberlain's Things Japanese.
38o JAPANESE LITERATURE
Another important work by Rai Sanyo is the Niho\
Seiki, a history of Japan in sixteen volumes.
Towards the end of the Yedo period there was a grea
falhng off in the hterary use of the Chinese language ii
Japan. At the present day it is employed only for a fe\
special purposes similar to those for which Latin is sti
resorted to in Europe.
BOOK THE SEVENTH
TOKIO PERIOD (1867-1898)
BOOK THE SEVENTH
TOKIO^ PERIOD (1867-1898)
Some Recent Developments under European
Influence
The first half of the present century was a time of pro-
found peace in Japan, during which the feudal system,
established by Tokugawa lyeyasu, was in appearance as
flourishing and efficient as ever ; but indications were
not altogether wanting that it was already tending to its
downfall. The condition of the peasantry had become
very unsatisfactory. They were grievously taxed and
oppressed by the Daimios, who competed with one
another in pomp and magnificence, and to this end
maintained large numbers of sinecure officials and idle
retainers. The military organisation was wholly effete,
as some collisions with British and Russian men-of-war
early in the century proved very clearly. The nation had
become tired of over -government. The Shoguns, for
want of general support, were obliged to relax their
control over the Daimios, the more powerful of whom
began to assert their independence in a way which was
fatal to the maintenance of the old feudal government.
^ The name of the capital was changed from Yedo to Tokio in 1869, when
the Mikado took up his residence there.
383
384
JAPANESE LITERATURE
The opening of Japan to foreign commerce in 1859
precipitated the inevitable struggle between the decrepi'
Shogunate and its recalcitrant vassals. It resulted ii
1867 in the complete downfall of the former, and th(
establishment of a new political organisation, presidec
over by the Mikado, and supported by the chief advisen
of the Daimios who had been instrumental in restoring
him to his rightful position in the State, so long usurpec
by the Shoguns.
These men, who combined political wisdom witl
ardent patriotism in no ordinary degree, built up on th
ruins of the Shogunate the new system of governmen
which Japan now enjoys. It is the most highly central
ised and efficient that the country has ever known, anc
has raised it to an unparalleled height of power an
prosperity, liberty and enlightenment.
A very large share in this result was due to the infl
ence of Western ideas. With the fall of the Shogunat
the moral, religious, and political principles on which
was based became more or less discredited, and th
nation turned to Europe for guidance. The great poll
tical change which had taken place produced no imme^
diate results so far as the literature was concerned. The
reorganisation of the constitution, the reform of the laws,
the formation of an army and navy, the construction
of roads, railways, lighthouses, and telegraphs, and the
establishment of a national system of education had
first to be attended to. But the visible superiority of
Europe in all such matters led to the study of European,
and especially English books as sources of practical
knowledge.
Before 1867, Dutch, which was studied by interpreters,
and as a means of acquiring a knowledge of Western
EUROPEAN LEARNING 385
medicine, was the only European language known to the
Japanese. About this time the nation was seized with a
passion for more extensive European learning. In spite of
many difficulties, numbers of young men of good family
made their way to Europe or America for study, or were
not ashamed to take service in the households of foreign
residents in Japan in order to have an opportunity of
learning English, even a slight knowledge of which was
a sure passport to official positions and emoluments.
The school of foreign languages in Tokio received sub-
stantial Government support, and flourished greatly.
Presently a group of writers came forward who did
their best by translations and original works to meet
the general demand for information as to the learning,
customs, laws, and institutions of Europe. Of these,
Fukuzawa, with his Seiyo Jijo ('' Condition of Western
Countries"), was the most distinguished. Nakamura's
translations of Smiles' Self- Help and Mill's Liberty
also deserve mention. Kant and Herbert Spencer
followed somewhat later. Their writings frequently
supply texts for the Japanese able editor, instead of
the works of the formerly venerated Confucius and
Mencius.
Another sign of the renewed avidity for knowledge was
the rise of a newspaper press and of a magazine litera-
ture. The first newspaper in Japan deserving of the
name was published in Tokio by a Scotchman named
Black about 1872. At the end of 1894 there were in
existence, in spite of a rigorous censorship, no fewer
than 814 different newspapers and magazines, with a
total circulation of 367,755 copies.
With the exception of translations and works designed
to make Europe known to the Japanese, the literature
2 B
386 JAPANESE LITERATURE
showed few signs of foreign influence until about 1879
when translations of European novels began to mak(
their appearance. The first of these was Lord Lytton'i
Ernest Maltravers. It produced a profound sensation
and was followed during the next few years by a numbe:
of others.^ A pronounced reaction against the method
and principles of the Bakin school of fiction was th(
consequence. TSUBOUCHI Yuzo was the principal pro
moter of the new movement. In a work entitled Shosetst
Shinzui (^^ Spirit of Fiction ") he denounced the artificia
morality of Bakin's writings. More recently he becam
editor of a literary magazine called Waseda Bungaku^ th
organ of the newer school of criticism, which derive
its principles and standards entirely from Europeai
sources. In his Shosei Katagi (*' Types of Students")
1887, Tsuboiichi has given an example of a realisti
novel. It is well written, and contains some graphi
and humorous sketches of modern student life viewea
from the seamy side, but has little plot, portraiture of
character, or dramatic incident. Tsuboiichi has also
tried his hand at drama. I have not seen his Julius
CcssaVy which Dr. Florenz describes as a version of
Shakespeare's drama thrown into the form of Joruri,
that is, with a thread of poetical narrative and descrip-
tion woven into it ; but I have before me two others of
his plays, the Maki no Kata (1897), ^^^ the Kiku to Kiri
(1898).
The Maki no Kata is in the Kyakubon style, that is, it
depends almost wholly on dialogue. The small element
^ Among European writers of fiction whose works have been translated into
Japanese may be mentioned Dumas {Trois Mousquetaires), Cervantes, Rider
Haggard, and Jules Verne. Telhnaque and Robinson Crusoe (commended for
its excellent moral teaching) have also been translated.
RECENT FICTION 387
of Joruri which it contains is hmited to one of the seven
acts of which this play is composed which seemed to
demand a more poetical treatment. It is one of a trilogy
which deals with the history of the Hojo regents. The
time is the beginning of the thirteenth century, and the
subject the crimes and intrigues into which Maki no
Kata, the wife of the Regent, was led by her ambitions
on behalf of a favourite son. The Maki no Kata is
decidedly melodramatic. There are several murders and
bloody combats, and two hara-kiri by women. But there
are also some really forcible scenes, and although no
supreme height of excellence is anywhere attained, there
is careful workmanship and a gratifying freedom from
the extravagances of the earlier school of Japanese
dramatists. Of pivot -words and such -like rhetorical
devices there are the merest traces. Most writers of
the Tokio period show a marked tendency to dispense
with these contrivances.
The specialty of SuDO Nansui is the political novel.
This author belongs to the progressive party in politics
and social science, and his pages bristle with allusions
to *^ things European." He quotes glibly, " To be or
not to be, that is a question" {sic)y and talks familiarly
of Shakespeare, Dumas, Gladstone, and O'Connell. The
extent and variety of his reading may be inferred from
an airy reference in one of his prefaces to Lytton,
Bakin, Scott, Tanehiko, Hugo, Shunsui, Dickens, and
Ikku.
The Ladies of Neiv Style (1887) is a good example
of his works. It is a novel of the future, when Tokio
shall have become a great port, with all the appliances
of an advanced civilisation, such as wharves, docks,
tramways, and smoking factory chimneys. The heroine,
388 JAPANESE LITERATURE
whose charms are depicted with a profuse expenditur
of ornate diction, is a dairymaid. Let not the reade:
suppose that this occupation is meant to suggest pastora
simpHcity. On the contrary, it indicates to the Japanese
pubHc that the lady is in the forefront of the progres
sive movement. Formerly cow's milk was not used as
food in Japan, and when this novel appeared none but
a truly enlightened person would dare to affront the
old-fashioned prejudices against it. This dairymaid's
favourite reading is Herbert Spencer's treatise on educa-
tion. She is a member of a ladies' club where croquet
and lawn-tennis are played and women's rights discussed,
Other characters are — an adherent of Arabi Pasha, who,
after his leader's defeat by the "great warrior Genera
Wolseley," was banished from Egypt and took servic
with a Japanese gentleman ; a Chinese cook, who i
naturally assigned the role of a subordinate villain, an
a number of politicians of the Conservative and Libera'
parties. Among the incidents we have a balloon ascent
a contested election, and a dynamite explosion, whic
is prevented from doing harm by the sagacity of a do
of European breed. All this, it will be observed, indi-
cates a high degree of civilisation.
In the last chapter the dairymaid is married to the
advanced poUtician, who, on the auspicious occasion,
wears a clean standing-up collar and a white silk neck-
tie, with white gloves, and a small white orange blossom
in the left button-hole of his coat.
The Ladies of New Style has really considerable merit.
There is plenty of incident and a coherent plot, and the
writer can not only quote Herbert Spencer and Mill,
but, what is more to the purpose, has an excellent
command of his own language, more especially of the
RECENT FICTION 389
Chinese element in it, which is so prominent at the pre-
sent time.
The Local Self Government (Sudo affects English titles)
is a work of a similar character.
Yamada Taketaro, a contemporary of Tsubouchi's, is
the principal champion of an attempt to substitute the
modern colloquial grammar for the grammatical forms
and rules of the traditional literary dialect. He has pro-
duced a number of novels and stories written on this
principle, which, if universally adopted, would save the
Japanese nation the trouble of mastering a second
grammar for purposes of reading and writing, in addition
to that of their ordinary speech. His Natsu Kodachi
(^^ Summer Trees ") is a series of short stories which bear
numerous traces of the author's studies of European
literature. One is a Japanese version of the story of
Appius and Virginia^ and another a pastoral idyll
obviously suggested by a European model. Yamada's
later writings I have not seen. Dr. Florenz describes
them as '^ cleverly written, the characters well and natu-
rally drawn." This is high praise to give a Japanese
novelist.
Yencho, a blind story-teller of Tokio, also composes in
the colloquial style. Indeed his novels are first delivered
in a spoken form, and are taken down in writing by his
pupils. Their language is simple and easy, and they may
be recommended to any European who is beginning the
study of Japanese. Some of his plots are said to be taken
from the French.
One of the most popular and voluminous novelists
of the present day is OzAKi TOKUTARO (Koyosan). In
his earlier works, which I have not seen, he made great
use of the pivot style, but his Tajd-takon (1897) is
390 JAPANESE LITERATURE
written in the colloquial language. An acquaintanc
with English is evinced by the short sentences, th
copious use of personal pronouns, and the frequen
introduction of words which, although composed o
Chinese elements, can only be fully understood whe
we have recognised the English word which they ar
intended to represent. Such English-Chinese-Japanese
words are by no means peculiar to Ozaki. They
now form a considerable part of the vocabulary of
newspaper and magazine writers. Ozaki frequently
gives the impression of having thought in English, and
then presented his readers with a literal translation into
Japanese. He is said to be an admirer of M. Zola.
The Tajo-takon ('' Much Feeling, Much Hate ") is j
study of sentiment. It opens with the lachrymose lamen
tations of a disconsolate widower. At the eightieth pag(
the hero is still plaguing his friends and exhausting th(
reader's patience with a maudlin grief, which must b(
even more obnoxious to Japanese feeling than to ou;
own. One weary reader left him at this point, wiping
his streaming eyes with a borrowed pocket-handker-
chief, and complaining that he had now nobody to wash
his own dirty ones for him.
One of the most considerable literary figures of the
present day is KoDA Nariyuki (pseudonym, Rohan).
He writes in the ordinary literary dialect, using the
colloquial speech only for the dialogue, and in some
of his writings not even for that. He has imagination,
lofty aims, and a fine flow of language, never descend-
ing to vulgarity, and rising frequently to poetical descrip-
tions of a high order of merit. But the action of his
stories moves slowly, and the speeches of his personages
are terribly lengthy. His Hige-otoko (1897) is a historical
RECENT FICTION 391
novel of the civil wars which preceded the establishment
of the Tokugawa Shoganate.
The general impression left by a very imperfect exami-
nation of the drama and fiction of the last twenty years is
on the whole favourable. The moral standards are less
artificial, there are fewer offences against good taste and
decency, and there is a prevailing sobriety of tone and
an avoidance of the glaring improbabilities of every
kind which abound in the writings of such authors as
Chikamatsu and Bakin. We no longer meet with such
monstrously long drawn-out stories as the Hakkenden,
Comparatively much shorter than its predecessor, the
recent novel shows more signs of conscientious care in
its composition.
The social position of Japanese writers of fiction has
of late been completely revolutionised. In the Yedo
period they were Bohemians or hommes declasses, who
were in constant trouble with the police, and were classed,
along with actors, among the lowest of the people. Now
they are respectable members of society ; some of them,
like Tsuboiichi, being graduates of the Imperial Univer-
sity. Notwithstanding the low prices at which their
works are issued,^ a popular novelist now commands a
fair income from his works. Yano Fumio, out of the
proceeds of the sale of his Keikoku Bidan (a novel of
Theban life, with Epaminondas for the hero), was able
to treat himself to a tour in Europe, and to build a fine
house with the balance.
The art of writing history has not made much pro-
gress in recent years. Modern methods of investiga-
1 The Tajoiakon, of five hundred pages, with illustrations, is published at
about IS. 6d. of our money.
392 JAPANESE LITERATURE
tion and principles of historical criticism are knowi
and accepted ; but a great sifting of the existing hetero]
geneous material must be done before history, as w<
understand it, can be written. Nobody has yet made
any serious attempt to distinguish the true from the fals<
in the old Japanese annals, though it is pretty generalh
acknowledged that this process is indispensable. Philo-
sophical history is still in its infancy. The numerous
historical works which have appeared during the las^
twenty years are chiefly uncritical epitomes of Japanese]
Corean, Chinese, and European history, and simpl(
memoires pour servir. Shimada Saburo's Kaikoku Shi-^
matsu (1888) is one of the most important of the latter
class. It is a collection of material bearing on the
opening of Japan to foreign trade in 1859.
The Shorai no Nikon (^' Japan of the Future"), by
Tokutomi lichiro, is an attempt to forecast the future of
Japan by an examination of its past history. Mr. W.
Dening describes it as ^' more philosophical in concep-
tion than most preceding publications of its class, and
surpassed by none of them in point of style. This work,
in the space of two years, ran through five editions, and
competent Japanese critics pronounce it to be one of
the most remarkable books of the age. The writer is a
Christian."
Among other works of a serious kind may be men-
tioned Marquis Ito's Commentary on the Constitutiony and
a treatise by Ono Adzusa on the same subject. Mr.
Dening gives high praise to Nose Yei's Kyoikugakuy a
work on education. The author's aim is to adapt Western
principles and ideas to the local requirements of Japan,
and in this he has, according to Mr. Dening, achieved a
high degree of success.
RECENT POETRY 393
It can hardly be maintained that the Japanese nation
has up to the present time produced much poetry of
striking merit. The Naga-uta of the Manyoshiu, not-
withstanding its Hmited resources and confined scope,
gave a promise which was not destined to be fulfilled,
and the tiny Tanka which succeeded it in popular favour
was precluded by its very form from being a vehicle for
the utterance of any but the merest atoms of poetical
thought or sentiment. Again, the poetical element to be
found in the No and Joruri drama is so disfigured by
ornament of questionable taste, and so imperfectly freed
from prosaic dross, that we can only allow it a very
modest place in the history of the art. Its importance
lies rather in its keeping alive the national taste for
imaginative writing than in any intrinsic merit which it
possesses.
The conditions of the present day are more favour-
able than those of any previous time to the production
of good poetry in Japan. The ordinary language, by
the more thorough assimilation of its Chinese element,
has gained considerably in fitness for poetical purposes,
and its phonetic capabilities are now appreciably greater
than in the time of the Manyoshiu. Still more im-
j portant considerations are the great stimulus which
' the national life has received from the introduction of
European ideas, and the attention which has been
recently directed to the poetry of Europe, especially
j of England.
I The credit of being the first to recognise the advan-
tages which the Japanese poet might derive from a study
of European models belongs to Toyama Masakazu, a
Professor of the Imperial University, Yatabe Riokichi
and Inouye Tetsujiro, whose joint publication, entitled
394 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Shintaishisho^ or "Poetry of New Form" (1882), mark*
an epoch in the history of poetry in Japan. It is a bole
attempt to revolutionise the art. The writers ignore the
Tanka altogether, and set an example of a kind of Naga
uta adapted to modern conditions. The old principle o
the alternation of phrases of five and seven syllables is re
tained, the seven-syllable phrases, however, being usuall
put first. A decided improvement is the division int
verses or stanzas of equal length. But it is chiefly in th
language employed that the new style is distinguishe
from the old. Toyama and his colleagues, finding th
ancient classical language unequal to the expression o
the new ideas, and largely unintelligible to a moder
public, frankly adopted the ordinary written language
of the day, which had hitherto been only used for
popular poetry of the humblest pretensions. In their
choice of themes, in the length of their poems, and in
the general tone of thought, the influence of European
models is plainly traceable.
Some experiments in rhymed verse by poets of the
new school confirm the opinion already expressed of
the unsuitableness of the Japanese language for this
form of poetical ornament.
The ShintaisJiisho contains nineteen poems of no great
length. Of these only five are original, the remainder
being translations from English poets. Bloomfield is
represented by "The Soldier's Return," Campbell by
"The Mariners of England," and Tennyson by "The
Charge of the Light Brigade," of which two versions
are given. The same compliment is paid to Gray's
^ Dr. Florenz, Professor of Philology in the Imperial University of Tokio,
has given an interesting account of this movement in a paper contributed to
the German Asiatic Society of Tokio, March 1892.
RECENT POETRY 395
'* Elegy " and Longfellow's " Psalm of Life." Shake-
speare is represented by four extracts, and Charles
Kingsley by his "Three Fishers."
The original poems include verses written before the
colossal image of Buddha at Kamakura, an ode to the
four seasons, and a war-song. Neither the original poems
nor the translations have striking merit in themselves,
but they attracted a large measure of public attention, and
gave rise to a lively controversy between the adherents of
the old and new styles. They also produced a school of
imitators, among whom the novelist Yamada was one of
the most eminent.
More recently (1891) Toyama, the chief originator of
the movement, brought out a poem on the great earth-
quake of 1855, which has not only considerable merit in
itself, but occupies a unique position in Japanese litera-
ture as a descriptive poem of some length.
Dr. Florenz, writing in 1892, says that 1888 may be
taken as the culminating point of the favour shown to
the new style of poetry. A reaction then set in, which,
however, was of short duration. The last two or three
years have produced a considerable quantity of verse
more or less in the new form, of which all that can now
be said is that, on a hasty examination, it reveals some
promising features. Regularity of form is more carefully
attended to — a great desideratum in the longer kinds of
Japanese poetry.
The day of Tanka and Haikai seems to have passed.
These miniature forms of poetry are now the exception
and not the rule.
The following specimen, which may be taken as
characteristic of the vague and dreamy style of most
recent Japanese poetry, is translated from a little volume
396 JAPANESE LITERATURE
of prose and verse by three authors, entitled Hana Momiji^
or "Flower and Autumn Leaves" (1898) : —
The Bamboo Flute by the Shore
I
"7;^ the shade of the firs of the craggy cliffy
To-night again a bamboo flute is heard :
Is it some fisher-boy^ solacing his heart
Fro?n the woes of a world bitter with salt and seaweed?
Moonlight or dark^ he little cares.
Night after night he visits these fir-trees^ shade.
In the music of his bamboo flute
There may be heard cadences which tell of yearning love.
A day had passed since the courtiers of the lord of the land
Held night-long revel here, wandering forth upon the beach.
While the bark of the autumn moon
Pursued its crystal course;
When the fisher's fiute was for the first time heard.
A day had passed since the ladies of our lord.
Mooring their gay pleasure-boat, held revel here,
Attunijig the inusic of their golden lutes
To the song of the breeze through the fir-trees on the cliff's ;
When the fisher' s flute was for the first tijne heard.
TI
On nights when the dew lay heavy on the reeds of the chilly shore.
And the wind of the firs came in gusts down from the crags.
He never failed to come — this fisher-boy :
His bamboo fltcte was heard in clear- sounding notes.
On nights when the rattling of the hail was loud,
And the ripples on the beach were changed to ice.
He never failed to C07ne — this fisher-boy :
His bamboo flute was heard in subdued tones.
RECENT POETRY 397
On nights when evening fell, wild with mouiitain blasts,
And the sand was whirled up into the air,
He never failed to come — this fisher-boy :
His bamboo flute was heard in confused tiotes.
On nights of rain, when darkness came down with a sou?id of
moaning waves,
A7id the rocks were steeped in moisture.
He never failed to come — this fisher-boy :
His bajnboo flute was heard, lattguid and faint.
Ill
To-night the autumn moo7i has cha?tged.
So lo7ig his yearning love has endured.
Still his bamboo flute is heard.
Its tune and measure ever more entrancing.
With the storm from the cliff it was troubled.
With the echoes from the fir-trees it became clear.
With the surges from the deep it was frenzied.
With the waves on the rocks it became choked.
Eve7i the clouds over 07ioye ^ paused to listen
To its 7iotes, now calli7ig clearly, a7id now with stra7igled utterance.
What wonder the7t that some 07ie descends from the bower above,
A7id comes forth absorbed i7t reverie !
For awhile the fiute ceased its importunities;
But hark ! louder than before
The music of the bamboo bursts forth, making the sky resound,
A7idi7i accord with it, how sweet!
Are heard the notes of a golde7i lute.
Sometime the wide-spreading clouds desce7tdi7ig from 07ioye
Bore away with thejn the musicia7is of the fragrant rocks below.
Up to that region where the bark of the moon.
With altered helm, steered straight to 7}ieet thei7i.''
— Shiwoi Uko.
1 The mention of this place shows that the scene is the same as that of
Takasago. See above, p. 207.
398 JAPANESE LITERATURE
Thirty years is far too short a time for the seed sowr
at the Revolution of 1867 to grow up and ripen Hterarj
fruit. We have seen that the intellectual movement tc
which lyeyasu's establishment of the Yedo Shogunate
led; did not reach its climax until a century later. Nc
doubt things move more rapidly in the present day^
but it seems reasonable to believe that what we no\^
witness is only the beginning of a new and importan
development.
The process of absorbing new ideas which has mainl
occupied the Japanese nation during the last thirty years,
is incomplete in one very important particular. Althoug
much in European thought which is inseparable fro
Christianity has been freely adopted by Japan, th
Christian religion itself has made comparatively littl
progress. The writings of the Kamakura and two sub
sequent periods are penetrated with Buddhism, and
those of the Yedo age with moral and religious ideas
derived from China. Christianity has still to put its
stamp on the literature of the Tokio period.
There are some considerations which tend to show
that important results in this direction may be expected
during the century which is nearly approaching us. The
previous religious history of the nation has prepared
Japan for the acceptance of a higher form of faith.
Buddhism did not a little towards fostering ideals of
holiness, humanity, and detachment from worldly things.
Confucianism provided high, though it may be some-
what distorted, standards of morality, and a compara-
tively rational system of philosophy. Shinto taught
a reverence for the Divine powers which created and
govern the universe and man. But none of the three
sufficed by itself to meet the heart, soul, and mind want
CHRISTIANITY 399
of the Japanese nation. Can it be imagined that when
a reUgion is presented to them which alone is adapted
to satisfy far more completely all the cravings of their
higher nature, the Japanese, with their eminently recep-
tive minds, will fail in time to recognise its immense
superiority ? ^ They have already accepted European
philosophy and science. It is simply inconceivable that
the Christian religion should not follow. Probably, as
was the case with Buddhism, it will not be received
without some modification. Their previous history sug-
gests that this may take the direction of a more rational-
istic form of Christian belief than that which prevails
in Europe. ^AX)C yroi jmev ravra Oeoiv iv jowacrc Kelrat.
The historian of the Japanese literature of the future
will have more to say on this subject.
1 There are even now 113,000 native Christians in Japan.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
In regard to bibliography, the writer of the present volume of this]
series finds himself in a very different position from his predecessors.
He has no enibarras de richesses to contend with. The only survey of]
the whole field of Japanese literature which has hitherto appeared in]
any European language is an article by Sir E. Satow, in vol. ix. pp.I
55 1-565 oi Appieton^ s American Cydopadia (New York, 1874), excellent!
as far as it goes, but owing to the brevity inseparable from such a form
of publication, more fitted to excite than to satisfy the reader's curiosity.
It will be found useful by any one who wishes to extend his knowledge
of the subject, as it mentions a large number of Japanese books which
have been entirely passed over in the preceding pages.
Mr. B. H. Chamberlain's Classical Poetry of the Japanese (1880)
contains translations into English verse of a number of poems from
the Manyoshiu and Kokinshiu^ with selections from the No and
Kiogen, and an appendix of very short biographical notices of the
more ancient Japanese poets. There is a similar work in French
by M. Leon de Rosny.
Some interesting glimpses of the popular literature and folk-lore
of the Yedo period are given in Mr. A. B. Mitford's Tales of Old
Japan (1871).
Mr. William Anderson's Catalogue of Japanese and Chinese Pictures
in the British Museum (1886) deals with the literature of Japan viewed
as a source of supply of subjects for the artist.
The Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan contain a number
of translations and notices of Japanese books, by Sir E. Satow, Mr.
B. H. Chamberlain, and others ; and Dr. K. Florenz's contributions
to the Journal of the German Asiatic Society of Japan should also
be mentioned.
400
BIBLIOGRAPHY 401
In addition to the above, there exists in various European languages
a considerable mass of translations from the Japanese, published either
separately or in magazines and journals of learned societies, of which
it may be said —
^'' Sunt bona, sunt quadajn mediocria, sunt mala plural
The more important have been indicated in the body of this work, and
it is believed that little inconvenience will be caused by the omission of
all reference to the remainder. Those who wish to prosecute their
researches further in this direction will find the means of doing so
in Mr. Fr. von Wenckstern's comprehensive and useful, though not
particularly accurate, Bibliography of the Japanese Empire (1895).
A Catalogue of Japanese Books and Manuscripts in the British
Museum, by Mr. R. K. Douglas, is also useful for reference.
The contributions of the Japanese themselves to the materials for
a history of their literature are naturally much more important than
anything which has been written by Europeans. The labours of
Mabuchi and his greater pupil Motoori have been already noticed,
and good work has been done by a multitude of native editors and
commentators towards clearing up the obscurity which even to
Japanese surrounds many of their older authors. Nothing, however,
which deserves the name of a History of Literature appeared until
1890, when Messrs. Mikami Sanji and Takatsu Kuwasaburo, of the
Imperial University of Tokio, brought out their Nippon Bungakushi^
which is by far the most valuable work on this subject. The critical
judgments of the authors may not always commend themselves to
Europeans, but they have succeeded in setting forth the leading facts
of the history of their literature in a clear, methodical manner. I
gladly acknowledge my very considerable obligations to their work.
A history of fiction, entitled Shosetsu Shiko, by Sekine Masanao
(1890), should also be mentioned.
The most useful bibliography in the Japanese language is the
Gunsho Ichiran, by Ozaki Masayoshi, six volumes (1801), and the
best biographical dictionary is a bulky work by a number of authors,
entitled Dai Nippon Jim7nei Jisho (1886). A list of other works of
this class may be found in the article in Appleton^s CyclopcBdia already
referred to.
Monographs on Hakuseki, Sorai, Chikamatsu, and other eminent
authors, have been lately published, and a good deal is being done at
2 C
402
BIBLIOGRAPHY
I
the present time in the way of re-editing and annotating the monu-
ments of the older literature.
The Hakubunkan publishing house of Tokio have reprinted most]
of the fiction and drama of the Yedo period under the description i
Teikoku Bunko or "Imperial Library." As an illustration of the cheap-
ness of books in Japan, it may be mentioned that each volume of this
series contains about one thousand octavo pages of reasonably good
print, on tolerable paper, in neat binding, and is sold for the equivalent ■
of about one shilling of our money.
A LIST OF DICTIONARIES, GRAMMARS, AND OTHER
WORKS OF REFERENCE USEFUL TO STUDENTS
OF JAPANESE
A Japanese-English and English-Japanese Dictionary^ by J. C.
Hepburn (fourth edition, 1888).
A Dictionary oj Chinese-Japanese Words ^ by J. H. Gubbins (1889).
A Chiftese- English Dictionary^ by H. A. Giles (1892).
A Native Chinese-Japanese Dictionary, such as the Gioku-hen.
One of the following native dictionaries of the Japanese language :
Nippon Daijirinj Genkaij Nippon Daijisho. Of these, the first-
named is the fullest and most elaborate. But even in the best
dictionaries, whether by Japanese or foreigners, vast numbers of
words are not to be found.
A Gratnmar of the Japanese Written Language^ by W. G. Aston
(second edition, 1877).
A Grammar of the Japanese Spoken Language^ by W. G. Aston
(fourth edition, 1888).
Or, A Handbook of Colloquial Japanese^ by B. H. Chamberlain
(third edition, 1898).
A Romanised Japanese Reader, by B. H. Chamberlain (1886).
A Manual of Japanese Writing, by the same author, is in pre-
paration.
Japanese Chronological Tables, by E. M. S. (Sir Ernest Satow),
(1874), or a similar work by W. Bramsen (1880), will be found
necessary.
403
INDEX
Abutsu, 157
Adzuma-kagami, 160
Akahito, 35
Anthologies, 34, 58, 159
Arai Hakuseki, 244 : Arakida
moritake, 290
Archaic period, 3
Bakin, 352
Ballad Poetry, 20, 24
Basho, 290
Ben no Naiji Nikki^ 1 58
Bibliography, 400
Buddhism, 4, 6, 132, 145, 220, 344,
398
Chikafusa, 164
Chikamatsu, 273
Children's tales, 272
Chinese Philosophy. See Kangaku-
ska and Wagakusha
Chomei, 145
Christianity, 253, 398
Chuhi, 225. See also Kangakusha
Chiushingura^ 313
Classical period, 53
Dainihonshiy 315, 379
Dazai Shuntai, 301
Dojikun, 237
DoSHUN, 235
Drama, 197, 213, 273, 288, 312, 386
Dutch, study of, 384
Epics, none in Japan, 24
Essays, 54, 184
Euphony of Japanese, 26
Farce, 213
Fiction. ^/?^ Novels, Romances
Ftidokoro no Suzuri, 269
FujiWARA Seikwa, 224
FUKUZAWA, 385
Gempei Seisuiki, 134
Gengenshiu, 169
Genji Monogatari, 92
GijinrokUy 265
Goddben^ 341
Grammar, 323
Hachimonjiya press, 303
Haibun, 296
Haikai^ 289
Hakkenden, 360
Hakuseki, 244
Hamamatsu Chiunagon Monogatari^
88
Hanka, 40
Hankampu, 248
Hayashi Rasan, 235
Hayashi Shunsai, 236
Heian period, 53
Heiji Monogatari, 144
Heike Monogatari, 1 39
Hekijashoron, 341
Hiaku-nin-is-shiUy 159
405
4o6
INDEX
Hi RATA, 234
History, 18, 49> 55> 122, 134, 165,
169, 248, 252, 379, 392
HiTOMARO, 35
Hizaktirige^ 371
Hogen Monogatari, 144
Hojoki, 145
Humourists, 307
Ibara Saikaku, 268
Idzumo, 312
Idzttmo Fudoki, 23
IKKU, 369
Impersonal habit of Japanese mind, 30
Inadzuma Bios hi, 348
Inaka Genji, 366
Iroha Btmko^ 376
Ise Monogatari, 76
lyeyasu, 218, 224
Izayoi no ki, 157
/inkdskdtdki, 164
Jippensha Ikku, 369
Jitsuroktimono, 308
/druri, 274, 276, 312
Kabtiki theatre, 274, 288
Kada Adzumamaro, 318
Kagura, 197
Kaibara Yekken, 236
Kaijin Yashima, 276
Kamakura period, 131
Kana, 56
Kangakusha, 224, 235, 300, 341
Kataribe, 20
Keichiu, 316
Keisei Kintanki, 304
Kenko, 184
KioDEN, 345
Kiogen, 213 ,
Kioka, 297
KiOKUTEi Bakin, 352
Kishin Shinron, 336
KiTABATAKE, 164
Kiujiki, 6
Kiuo Dowa, 343
Kiuso, 257
KlVOTSUGU, 199
KoDA Nariyuki, 390
Kodo Tait'y 339
Kojikiy 17
Kojikiden, 321
KojiMA, 170
Kokinshiu, 58
Kokinshiu Preface, 63
Kokusenya, 280
Kompira-bon, 274 . r
Koshicho, 338
Koshiden, 338
Koshiseibun, 338
Kottoshiu^ 348
Kyakubon, 288, 386
Ladies of New Style, 387
Lyrics. ^^^ Poetry
Mabuchi, 318
^a/^/ ;«^ Kata, 386
Makura Kotoba, 31
Makura Zdshi, 104
Manyoshiu, 34
Manyoshiu Kogi, 35
Matsunaga Teitoku, 290
Metre, 28, 29, 289, 394
Midzu-kagami, 143
Mitsukuni, 315
Mokuzu Monogatari, 268
Monogatari, 76
Moral code, 229, 327, 340
MoTOKiYO, 199
MoTOORi Norinaga, 320
Mui?iidshd, 156
Murasaki no Shikibu, 92
Afurasaki no Shikibu Nikki, 103
MuRO Kiuso, 257
Naga-uta, 29, 35, 59, 317
Namboku-cho and il/«rtfwar>4zPeriods,
163
Nanka no Yume, 359
INDEX
407
Nara Period, 17
Narihira, 81
National character of Japanese, 4
Natsu Kodachi, 389
Newspapers, 385
Nihongi, 48
Nikon Givaishi, 379
Ninjdbo7iy 376
No, 197
Norilo, 9
Novels. See MuRASAKi no Shikibu,
Saikaku, Jisho, Kioden, Bakin,
Tanehiko, ShunsuIjTsubouchi,
SuDo, Rohan, Ozaki, Yamada,
Yencho.
Ochikubo Monogaiari, 88
Odai ichiran, 236
dharai, 10
Ohashi Junzo, 341
Okagami, 125
Oka Seidan, 308
Ori-taku-shiba, 244
Otomo no Yakamochi, 42
Ozaki, 389
Parallelism, 33, 37, 396
Philosophy, 225 ; see also Kanga-
kusha
Phonetic writing, 56
Pivot- words, 32, 201, 280, 298, 363,
387, 389
Poetry, 7, 24, 33, 58, 63, 140, 159,
178, 197, 279, 289, 299, 317, 393
Popular Drama, 273, 312
Popular Literature, 219, 267
Pornography, 269, 303, 307, 347
Printing, 220
Profanity, 375
Rai Sanyo, 379
Raku-kun, 241
RiUTEi Tanehiko, 365
Rhythm, 27
Rohan, 390
Romance, see Novels
Ronin, 275
Sagoronio Monogatari, 118
Saikaku, 268
Samba, 367
Santo Kioden, 345
Saras hina Nikki, 118
Seibzm, 335, 338
Seikwa, 224
Sei Shonagon, 104
Seiyd Kibun, 253
Seiyuki, 359
Share, 297
Sharebon, 307, 376
Shichiya no Kiira, 359
Shiki Monogatari, 156
Shikitei Samba, 367
Shingaku, 342
Shintaishishd, 394
Shinto, see Norito, Kojiki, Wagakusha
Shinto Rituals, 9
Shojiroku, 126
Shoku-nihongi, 23
Shundai Zatsuwa, 258
Shunsui, 376
Shiitsujd Shogo, 341
Songs (archaic), 7
SORAI, 301
SUDO, 387
Suibodai, 348
Siiikoden, 359
Sumiyoshi Monogatari, 88
Taiheiki, 169
Taikoki, 223, 308
Tajo-takon, 389
Takasago, 204
Takeda Idzumo, 312
Takemofo Za, 275
Taketori Mojiogatari, 76
Tamadasuki, 339
Tamakushige, 324
Tamenaga Shunsui, 376
Tanehiko, 365
408
Tanka, 28, 35, 42, 59, I97, 395
To-kagann, 62
Toki5 period, 383
Tokushi Yoron, 252
Topography, 22
Torikayebaya Monogatari, 118
Tosa Nikki, 67
Toshikage, 85
Tournaments (poetical), 59
TOYAMA, 393
TsuBOUCHi Yuzo, 386
TSURAYUKI, 58, 61, 63
Tsure-dzwe-giisay 184
Udonge Monogatari, 348
Uji Monogatari, 119
Ukiyo-fnro, 368
Ukiyo-toko, 368
Urashima legend, 39
CZ/j-z^/^^ Monogatari, 84
INDEX
Waniiosho, 127
Wasobioye, 310
Women as authors,
157, 158, 232
Writing, 6, 56
34, 55. 92,
Yamada Taketaro, 389
Yamato Monogatari, 88
Yamazaki Sokan, 289
Yasumaro, 19
Yedo a literary centre, 219
Yedo period, 217
Yeigwa Monogatari, 1 22
Yekken, 236
Yencho, 389
Yengishiki, lO, 126
YoKoi Yayu, 297
Yokyoku Tsilge, 200
Yo no tsuru, 158
Ytimi-bari-tsuki, 355
Wabun, 316, 332
Wagaktishay 315, 334
Zuihitsn, 54
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