SUMPTUARY LAWS — SYSTEM OF ESPIONAGE — THE DUPLICATE EMPIRE — POWERS OF THE TYCOON AND MIKADO — THE DAIMIOS AND THEIR RETAINERS — THE TWO SWORDS — LONINS, OR OUTLAWS — JAPANESE FENCERS — DEFENSIVE ARMOR — ARCHERY — THE HAPPY DESPATCH — PUBLIC EXECUTIONS — ARCHITECTURE — REASONS FOR ITS FRAGILITY — PRECAUTIONS AGAINST FIRE — SIMPLE HABITS OF THE JAPANESE — AMUSEMENTS AND GAMES — WRESTLERS — THEATRES IN JAPAN — CURIOUS ARRANGEMENT OF PLAYS — THE TEA-HOUSES AND THEIR ATTENDANTS — JAPANESE ART — THE PORTABLE INKSTAND — THE CRANE, HERON, AND STORK — THE SNOW-CLOAK — SILK MADE BY NOBLES.
In Japan there is a tolerably strict code of sumptuary laws, certain modes of dress and the power of carrying certain weapons being denied to all except the privileged classes. We will, therefore, take a hasty glance at the different ranks in Japan.
With regard to all official ranks a duplicate system exists throughout the kingdom. At the head of the government there are two emperors,—the civil emperor, or Tycoon, and the spiritual emperor, or Mikado. The former of these potentates (whose title is sometimes spelled as Siogoon) is the real administrator of the empire, although he is nominally inferior to the Mikado, an inferiority which is carefully marked by certain visits of ceremony paid to the Mikado, but is not allowed to proceed beyond mere etiquette.
Indeed, the powers of the Tycoon himself are practically limited, though theoretically unbounded, and the government is in fact exercised by the nobles, through a double council, one of which is chosen by the emperor, and the other selected by the nobles from themselves. Every man who is employed in the duties of government has his duplicate, or “shadow,” as he is called; he is subject to espionage on every side, and is himself a spy on others.
This system, uncomfortable as it may appear, has its advantages. According to Mr. Oliphant: “One most beneficial result arising from this universal system of espionage—for it extends through all classes of society—is the entire probity of every government employé. So far as we could learn or see, they were incorruptible. When men can neither offer nor receive bribes; when it is almost impossible, even indirectly, to exercise corrupt influences, there is little fear of the demoralization of public departments of the state. In this respect Japan affords a brilliant contrast to China, and even to some European countries. So long as this purity exists, even though purchased at the cost of secret espial, there can be little cause to fear the decadence of Japan.”
It is as well to mention in this place that the word Tycoon, or Tai-kû, is not of Japanese but of Chinese origin, and that it came into use through its insertion in an official document, the unlucky minister who employed it having in consequence fallen into disgrace and poverty. The name of Tycoon is never applied to him by the Japanese, who use instead the title which has been conferred upon him by his nominal superior, the Mikado.
The Mikado, or spiritual emperor, is held in the greatest veneration, and many of the honors paid to him are almost identical with those which are rendered to the Grand Lama of Thibet. He is too sacred to touch the earth with his feet, and is carried on men’s shoulders on the rare occasions when he moves from one part of the palace to another. Outside it he never goes. He is too holy to wear any garment twice, or to use any article a second time, and, should any one venture to wear or use a garment or utensil sanctified by his touch, he would bring down on himself the vengeance of heaven. Consequently, every garment that he has worn or every wooden utensil which he has employed is burned, and those which are made of earthenware are broken.
A similar rule extends to his wives, of whom he has twelve, one of them being the head wife or queen. A curious piece of etiquette is practised by the wives of the Mikado. All other women dress their hair into fantastic shapes, but the Mikado’s wives are obliged to allow their hair to flow at length down their backs. In consequence of the innumerable restrictions to which he is subjected, the Mikado generally becomes tired of his comfortless rank, and resigns in favor of his heir.
Next come the Daimios or nobles, who, as among ourselves, are of different ranks, and who are the real rulers of the country. The difficulties which foreigners have experienced in Japan have almost invariably been caused by the Daimios, who fear that their position as feudal nobles may be endangered by the introduction of foreigners into the country. The greater Daimios are as formidable as were the great barons of early English history, and in like manner keep vast numbers of armed retainers. There is a general idea that in Japan every man wears a pair of swords. This is far from being the case, as none are permitted to wear even one sword unless he be in the service of the State. Even the wealthiest merchant may not wear a sword unless he is enrolled among the retainers of a Daimio, and, as the privilege is a great one, it is purchased for a certain annual sum. This indirect tribute is a lucrative source of income to the Daimios, and enables them to maintain the enormous retinue with which they are surrounded.
The higher classes in Japan are privileged to wear a garment called the “hakkama.” This is much like the huge petticoat trousers of the French Zouave, and is indeed a very full and abundantly plaited petticoat, sewed together in the middle, and gathered in at the knees. The wearers are inordinately proud of this garment, and, though one of the unprivileged classes may purchase the right to carry a sword, no expenditure of money will enable a man to wear the hakkama.
The most troublesome of the retainers are the Yaconins or Samourais, men who have been admirably described by Sir Rutherford Alcock in his “Capital of the Tycoon”:—
“All of a certain rank are armed with this formidable weapon projecting from their belt; swords, like everything else in Japan, to our worse confusion, being double, without much or any obvious distinction between military and civil, or between Tycoon’s officers and Daimios’ retainers. These are the classes which furnish suitable specimens of that extinct species of the race in Europe still remembered as Swashbucklers,—swaggering, blustering bullies; many cowardly enough to strike an enemy in the back, or cut down an unarmed and inoffensive man; but also supplying numbers ever ready to fling their own lives away in accomplishing a revenge, or carrying out the orders of their chief.
“They are all entitled to the privilege of two swords, rank and file, and are saluted by the unprivileged (professional, mercantile, and agricultural classes) as Sama, or Lord. With a rolling straddle in his gait, reminding one of Mr. Kinglake’s graphic description of the Janissary, and due to the same cause,—the heavy, projecting blades at his waist, and the swaddling clothes round his body,—the Japanese Samourai or Yaconin moves on in a very ungainly fashion, the hilts of his two swords at least a foot in advance of his person, very handy, to all appearance, for an enemy’s grasp. One is a heavy, two-handed weapon, pointed and sharp as a razor; the other short, like a Roman sword, and religiously kept in the same serviceable state.
“In the use of these he is no mean adept. He seldom requires a second thrust with the shorter weapon, but strikes home at a single thrust, as was fatally proved at a later period; while with the longer weapon he severs a limb at a blow. Such a fellow is a man to whom all peace-loving subjects and prudent people habitually give as wide a berth as they can. Often drunk, and always insolent, he is to be met with in the quarters of the town where the tea-houses most abound; or returning about dusk from his day’s debauch, with a red and bloated face, and not over-steady on his legs, the terror of all the unarmed population and street dogs. Happy for the former, when he is content with trying the edge of a new sword on the quadrupeds; and many a poor crippled animal is to be seen limping about, slashed over the back, or with more hideous evidences of brutality. But, at other times, it is some coolie or inoffensive shopkeeper, who, coming unadvisedly between ‘the wind and his nobility,’ is just as mercilessly cut down at a blow.”
In some sort of a way, each noble is responsible for the acts of his retainers. Therefore, if any of these men determine upon some act which they know will compromise their master,—say the assassination of some one whom he dislikes,—they formally divest themselves of his protection, and become “lonins,” or outlaws, or almost exactly the same as the “masterless-men” of the feudal English days. Each of them carries with him a paper on which his renunciation is written, and to perform such an act is thought extremely honorable. Nearly all the men who murdered Europeans were lonins.
The swords which these men wear in virtue of their rank are most formidable weapons, the temper of the steel, the balance of the weapon, and the slight curve of the edge, being all that can be desired. They are finished with the utmost care, and every part receives the minutest attention. A very beautiful specimen of the shorter sword was presented to me by C. Allen, Esq., of Blackheath. It measures two feet four inches in total length, of which the handle occupies nearly nine inches. This roomy handle of the Japanese sword presents a remarkable contrast with the small and cramped hilts of the Indian weapons. It affords an admirable grasp for the hand, being covered with diamond-shaped patterns of silken cord twisted over a basis of rough skate-skin. The blade is a little more than an inch in width, and even after a stay of many years in this country, is as bright as a mirror and sharp as a razor.
Indeed, for a hand-to-hand encounter, it would be difficult to find a more formidable weapon, even the kookery of India being inferior to it, as being heavier and less manageable. It is equally adapted for thrusting or cutting, and is so effective for the former purpose that one of these swords has been driven completely through a man’s body by a single thrust. The balance of the weapon is admirable, and, though it is somewhat unsightly, it can be managed with perfect ease.
The amount of labor that has been bestowed on this particular weapon is really astonishing. The effect is not in the least obtrusive, and it is only by close examination that its beauties can be seen. The blade is left entirely without ornament, its excellence being shown by its high polish and sharp edge. But, with the exception of the blade, every portion of the weapon has its ornament. On the guard is represented a buffalo grazing under a tree, the groundwork being of bronze, and the leaves of the tree and the herbage being gold. Between the silken cords of the hilt and the skate-skin are inserted two beautifully executed models, in bronze, of a bow and arrows, the feathers of the arrows and wrappings of the head being gilt. One of these models is inserted on either side of the hilt, which is terminated by a richly engraved bronze ornament.
In the upper part of the sheath is kept a small knife, somewhat similar in shape to that which is kept in the chopstick-case of the Chinese. The handle of the knife is bronze, and is adorned with the figure of a crayfish, beautifully wrought in gold, together with a banner and one or two other devices. The sheath itself is a wonderful piece of workmanship. At a little distance it looks as if it were covered with dark-brown leather; but a closer inspection shows that it is entirely covered with a minute and delicate pattern that looks as if it had been traced with a needle’s point, and must have cost the artist a very considerable expenditure of labor.
The larger sword is made after precisely the same pattern, except that it is four feet in length, and must be used with both hands. With one of these swords a Japanese will strike off a limb at a single blow; and so sharp are they, that an executioner, in beheading a criminal, scarcely raises the sword a foot for his stroke. The Japanese swordsmen practise the use of their weapon by means of sham swords, with which they fence, the combatants padding their limbs and sides, and covering their faces with wire masks. They have a very dangerous cut, which is made by the mere motion of unsheathing the sword, and takes effect at a distance where an inexperienced person would think himself safe.
So good is the temper of these weapons, that a Japanese has been known to sever a thick iron bolt with a single blow, the edge of the sword not showing the slightest indication of the severe test to which it had been put. The Japanese name for the large sword is “ken”; that of the shorter, “kattan.”
Defensive armor was at one time much worn by the Japanese, though at the present day the introduction of improved firearms has caused them to abandon armor, except for purposes of show. A complete suit of Japanese armor is shown on page 1469. It is made of multitudinous plates hung upon cloth, and profusely ornamented by gilding. Though very light, it is strong enough to resist the blow of the long sword, though it is worse than useless against rifled fire-arms. Indeed, had it not been for the recent disuse of protective armor, we should scarcely have been able to procure a suit; but, finding their suits of mail to be practically useless, the Japanese nobles very generously presented many of them to their foreign guests, and allowed others to be sold.
The oddest part of the suit is the helmet, with its appendages. The fantastic crest is very light, being made of exceedingly thin material, covered with gilding; and is so slight that a blow with a stick would crush it. Perhaps the reader may wonder at the beards which apparently depend from the chins of the soldiers. The fact is, the helmet is furnished with a very complete visor, shaped like a mask, which covers the whole of the face, and is decorated with a large gray beard and mustache, in order to strike terror into the beholders.
The bow is a favorite weapon with the Japanese, who expend nearly as much labor upon it as they do upon the sword. It is mostly japanned in black, and adorned with various decorations. Some of these bows are very powerful, and are strung in rather a peculiar manner, the archer placing the lower end of the bow on the ground, and grasping the upper end with his right hand. He plants his right foot on the middle of the bow, bends it with the united powers of his foot and right hand, and with his left slips the string into its place. The arrows are made like those of China, but, in accordance with the national character of the people, are more highly finished.
One of the strangest weapons used by the Japanese is the war fan. Like the Chinese, the Japanese are never without the fan, and are obliged, by force of long habit, to take it into battle. The fan which is kept for this purpose has its sheath made of iron, and is of very large size, so that if the warrior be surprised without his sword, he is sure to have his fan ready by way of a club. These fans are decorated with the national emblem, a red sun on a black ground.
In connection with the Japanese weapons must be mentioned some of their modes of punishment. The first is the celebrated Hara-kiri, or Happy Despatch, and consists of suicide by ripping open the abdomen with two cuts in the form of a cross. Only the upper classes are privileged to perform the Happy Despatch, and to them it is in reality a privilege. If a Japanese official has failed in some duty, or committed some act which is likely to call upon him the anger of his superiors, he applies for permission to perform the Hara-kiri. At the appointed time, he assembles his friends, dresses himself in white, as a token of innocence, gives an entertainment, and makes a speech upon the position in which he is placed. He then takes the fatal knife, and as he raises his clothing for the purpose of inflicting the wounds, a good swordsman comes behind him, bearing a two-handed sword or “ken.” The victim begins the Hara-kiri, but, as soon as he has made a slight incision, his head is swept off, so that death is not the result of the horrid wounds in the abdomen.
Sometimes, however, when time presses, the victim is obliged to perform the Hara-kiri as he can, and in that case dies from the self-inflicted wounds. For example, in several cases where assassination has been attempted, and notably in the celebrated attack on the British Legation, when the would-be assassins were chased on the succeeding day, it was found that three of them had committed the Hara-kiri, two of whom were already dead, but one was still living and was captured. In these cases the weapon used for the purpose is the shorter sword, or “kattan.”
When a man has committed the Hara-kiri, he is supposed to have died an honorable death, and so to have earned for himself a reputation as a brave man. His family are proud of him, and his memory is reverenced. But should he lose his life by the hand of the executioner, his whole property is confiscated, his family falls under ban, and his name is held as infamous. It will be seen, therefore, that the Hara-kiri is really a very great privilege, especially among a people so entirely indifferent to life as the Japanese.
Public executions are very simply carried out. The criminal is taken to the spot on a horse, and when he arrives, is bound, and made to kneel on the ground over a hole which is to receive his head. The executioner, who uses the “ken” above named, arranges the culprit’s head in the proper position, and, apparently without any effort, decapitates the man with a blow. The old traveller Purchas very neatly expresses the mode of execution by a single word. After narrating the preliminaries, he states that the criminal “holds out his head, presently wiped off.”
Crucifixion is employed by the Japanese as well as by the Chinese, and is mostly reserved for high treason. Minor punishments are not much in vogue, inasmuch as a theft above a certain sum entails the penalty of death, and so does a theft of a smaller sum if repeated. Flogging and banishment are sometimes employed as punishments. The dreadful tortures to which the earlier Christian missionaries and their converts were subjected appear to be reserved for political and religious offenders.
The architecture of the Japanese is rather peculiar. Owing to the physical condition of the country, and its liability to earthquakes, the houses are not remarkable for size or beauty. Private houses are never of any great height, a little exceeding forty feet being the utmost limit. They are built of wood, and, wherever possible, are only one story in height. They have a very ingenious mode of dividing their houses into rooms. Instead of using permanent walls for that purpose, they prefer folding screens made of wood and paper, so that they can alter at will the size and shape of the rooms.
The floors are covered with mats, which serve also as measurements. They are beautifully made of straw and rushes, are several inches in thickness, and by law obliged to be exactly of the same dimensions, i. e. one “kin,” or seven feet four and a half inches in length, and half as much in breadth. The window frames are movable, and, instead of glass, are filled with oiled paper, mica, and the translucent shell of the great pearl oyster. The partitions of the houses and all the posts are curiously varnished and painted, and the Japanese, essentially a cleanly people, are very careful in keeping the interior of their houses in the best possible order. Like many Orientals, they always remove their sandals before entering a house, and no one even enters a shop without slipping off his shoes.
The roof is also of wood, and is generally composed of thick boards, which are kept in their places by wooden pegs, or by heavy stones laid upon them. The ends of the roof project considerably beyond the walls, so that they protect the doorways from the sun. On the roof of each house is kept a tub full of water, and near at hand is a broom, so that, in case of a fire, all the wooden roofs are at once drenched with water. The extremely inflammable nature of the materials renders this precaution needful; and, in addition, there are cisterns and tubs kept in the streets, together with tolerably effective fire-engines.
The furniture of the houses is on the same simple plan as the edifices themselves. A Japanese, no matter what his rank or wealth, has but little furniture. From the highest Daimio to the ordinary workman, the furniture of the houses is much the same. The room is bare, and floored by mats; a few shelves hold some cups and saucers, and there are generally several small trays on stands. This, with a few coverlids and a small pillow, made of wood and having a padding on the top, constitutes the furniture of the living-room. As to the kitchen, one or two small movable stoves, a few pans of metal, and some brooms, are all that are needed.
The Japanese cannot in the least understand why their Western visitors should encumber themselves with such quantities of furniture, which, to them, are not only useless, but absolutely in their way. They need neither tables, chairs, sideboards, nor bedsteads, and care nothing for large and handsome rooms.
Some years ago, when preparations were made for the reception of a British Consul in Hakodadi, it was almost impossible to find any place that could accommodate him. However, after much trouble, a locality was found. After the arrangements had been made, the Japanese Governor rose, took Sir R. Alcock by the hand, and led him through a corridor to a little room, or rather closet, nine feet by six, and quietly remarked that in that room his successor would be installed.
Sir R. Alcock has some very pertinent remarks on this subject: “As we slowly wended our way through the streets, I had full opportunity of observing the absence of all the things we deem so essential to comfort, and which crowd our rooms almost to the exclusion, and certainly to the great inconvenience, of the people who are intended to occupy them, as well as to the detriment of the proprietor’s purse.
“If European joints could only be made supple enough to enable their owners to dispense with sofas and chairs, and, par conséquence, with tables; and we were hardy enough to lie on straw mats, six feet by three, stuffed with fine straw, and beautifully made with a silk border, so as to form a sort of reticulated carpet for rooms of any size; the solution of that much-debated question, the possibility of marrying on 400l. a year, might certainly be predicted with something like unanimity in favor of matrimony. The upholsterer’s bill can never offer any impediment to a young couple in Japan.
“Their future house is taken, containing generally three or four little rooms, in which clean mats are put. Each then brings to the housekeeping a cotton stuffed quilt, and a box of wearing apparel for their own personal use; a pan to cook the rice, half-a-dozen larger cups and trays to eat off, a large tub to bathe and wash in are added, on the general account: and these complete the establishment.”
Such being the simplicity of the house and furniture, it is evident that loss by fire—an event by no means uncommon—is not nearly so severe as is the case with us. The Japanese have, however, a very sincere dread of fire, and at the end of every principal street there is an elevated station, furnished with a bell, by means of which information can be given as to the part of the city in which the fire rages, so that all can go to assist in extinguishing it. Fires are of almost daily occurrence, and whole streets are levelled at a time. The Japanese take these fires as a matter of course, and look on the destruction of an entire quarter with characteristic equanimity. Indeed, they calculate that, taking one part with another, Yeddo is burned down once in every seven years; and so they build their houses with the least possible expense, considering them to be sooner or later food for fire.
Of the amusements of the Japanese only a very short account can be given. First among them must be placed the calm and contemplative amusement of the pipe, in which the Japanese indulge largely. The pipe which they use is very small, the bowl being scarcely large enough to contain a moderately sized pea. The tobacco is very mild, something like Turkish tobacco, and it is smoked by drawing the vapor into the lungs, so that the whole of the tobacco is consumed at one inhalation. The ashes are then turned out of the pipe, which is replaced in its case, and the smoke is leisurely exhaled. A Japanese will smoke thirty or forty such pipes in a morning.
Games for children are almost identical with those used in England; the ball, the shuttlecock, the stilt, the kite, and the hoop, being all common toys. As for adults, they have dice, the theatre, the wrestling matches. The dice are prohibited by law, and therefore they are made so minute as to be easily concealed. A pair of dice and their box are so small that they can be concealed between the tips of two fingers, the dice being barely the tenth of an inch in diameter, and the box just large enough to hold them.
The wrestling matches are very singular performances. The wrestlers are the strangest imaginable beings, being fattened to the last possible degree, so that they seem incapable of any feats of activity. Yet one of these elephantine men took in his arms a sack of rice weighing a hundred and twenty-five pounds, and turned repeated somersaults with as much ease as any light and unencumbered gymnast could do. The wrestlers are kept by the Daimios, who are very proud of them, and fond of exhibiting their powers. Each wrestler is supplied with several attendants, and clad in magnificent garments, the privilege of wearing two swords being also accorded to them. When they perform, all their robes are removed, leaving them in the wrestler’s garb, a fringed apron, embroidered with the cognizance of their patron.
In wrestling, they try, not only to throw their antagonist, but to push him out of the arena, a man who is forced beyond the boundary being held as vanquished. One of these encounters is vividly described by an American traveller.
“They were, in fact, like a pair of fierce bulls, whose nature they had not only acquired, but even their look and movements. As they continued to eye each other, they stamped the ground heavily, pawing as it were with impatience, and then, stooping their huge bodies, they grasped handfuls of the earth, and flung it with an angry toss over their backs, or rubbed it impatiently between their massive palms, or under their stalwart shoulders. They now crouched down low, still keeping their eyes fixed upon one another, and watching each movement, when, in a moment, they had both simultaneously heaved their massive frames in opposing force, body to body, with a shock that might have stunned an ox.
“The equilibrium of their monstrous persons was hardly disturbed by the encounter, the effect of which was barely visible in the quiver of the hanging flesh of their bodies. As they came together, they had flung their brawny arms about each other, and were now entwined in a desperate struggle, with all their strength, to throw their antagonist. Their great muscles rose with the distinct outline of the sculptured form of a colossal Hercules, their bloated faces swelled up with gushes of red blood, which seemed almost to burst through the skin, and their bodies palpitated with savage emotion as the struggle continued. At last one of the antagonists fell with his immense weight upon the ground, and, being declared vanquished, he was assisted to his feet and conducted out of the ring.”
The theatres much resemble those of the Chinese, the building being a mere temporary shed, and the parts of the women taken by young lads. The plays last for some two hours, and the Japanese have a very odd plan of arranging them. Suppose that five plays are to be acted in a day: the performers go through the first act of the first play, then the first act of the second play, and so on, until they have taken in succession the first act of every play. They then take the second act of each play, and so on until the whole are concluded. The object of this custom is, to enable spectators to see one act, go away, and come again in time for the next act. Often, however, the spectators remain throughout the entire day, and in that case refreshments are openly consumed. It is also thought correct for ladies to change their dress as often as possible during the day, so that there is as much change of costume in front of the stage as upon it. In these plays there is generally a considerable amount of love-making, and a still greater amount of fighting, the “terrific combat” being an acknowledged essential of the Japanese stage.
Perhaps the most characteristic and most perplexing institution of Japan is that of the Tea-house. In many points the whole tone of thought differs so much in Japan from anything that we Westerns have learned, that it is scarcely possible for two so diverse people to judge each other fairly. We have already seen that nudity conveys no ideas of indecency to a Japanese, the people having been accustomed to it from infancy, and thinking no more of it than do infants. In the tea-houses we find a state of things which in Europe would be, and rightly, stigmatized as national immorality: in Japan it is taken as a matter of course. These tea-houses are situated in the most picturesque spots, and are furnished with every luxury. The extraordinary part of them is, that the attendants are young women, who are sold for a term of years to a life of vice. They are purchased by the proprietors of the tea-houses, and instructed in various accomplishments, so as to make them agreeable companions. No sort of infamy attaches to them, men of high rank taking their wives and families to the tea-houses, so that they may benefit by the many accomplishments of the attendants.
When the term of servitude is over, the girls retire from their business, and may re-enter their families without losing the regard of their relatives. Many enter a Buddhist order of mendicant nuns, but the greater number find husbands. It is one of the most startling characteristics of this strange people that institutions such as this should exist, and yet that female virtue should be so highly valued. No sooner does one of these girls marry, than she is supposed to begin her life afresh, and, no matter what may have been their previous lives, no wives are more faithful than those of the Japanese. The only resting-point in this mass of contradiction is, that, though the girls incur no shame for the course of life into which they have been sold, the keepers of the tea-houses are looked upon as utterly infamous, and no one of respectability will associate with them.
That the men should resort to such places is no matter of surprise, but that they should be accompanied by their wives is rather remarkable.
Sometimes the husbands prefer to go without their wives, and in that case the ladies are apt to resent the neglect. The accompanying illustration is copied from a Japanese book in my collection, and is a good example of the humorous power which a Japanese artist can put into his work. The engraving tells its own story. Two husbands are going off together, and are caught by their wives. The different expressions thrown into the faces and action of the truants are admirably given,—the surprise and horror of the one, who has evidently allowed his wife to be ruler in the house, and the dogged determination of the other to get away, are rendered with such force that no European artist could surpass the effect.
CAPTURE OF THE TRUANTS.
We cannot take leave of this remarkable people without a few remarks upon the state of art among them. The Japanese are evidently an art-loving people. Fond as they are of the grotesque in art, they are capable of appreciating its highest qualities; and, indeed, a Japanese workman can scarcely make any article of ordinary use without producing some agreeable combination of lines in color.
Even the pen, or rather the brush, with which they write is enclosed in an ingenious and decidedly artistic case. The case is made of bronze, and consists of a hollow stem and a square bowl closed by a lid. The bowl contains India ink, and into the hollow stem the pen is passed. When not in use the pen is slipped into the stem, and the lid is closed and kept down by twisting over it the string which hangs from the end of the case, and which is decorated with a ball of agate.
One reason for the excellence of Japanese art is, that the artists, instead of copying from each other, invariably go to nature for their models. They have teachers just as we do, but the great object of these professors is to teach their pupils how to produce the greatest effect with the fewest lines. Book after book may be seen entirely filled with studies for the guidance of the young artists, in which the master has depicted various scenes with as few lines as possible. One of these books is entirely filled with studies of falling rain, and, monotonous as the subject may seem, no two drawings are in the least alike, and a separate and forcible character is given to each sketch. Another book has nothing but outlines of landscape scenery, while some are entirely filled with grass-blades, some bending in the wind, others beaten down by rain, and others flourishing boldly upright. The bamboo is another favorite subject; and so highly do the Japanese prize the skill displayed by a master, that they will often purchase at a high price a piece of paper with nothing on it but a few strokes of the brush, the harmony of the composition and the balance of the different lines of beauty being thoroughly appreciated by an artistic eye.
Studying as the Japanese do in the school of nature, they are marvellously apt at expressing attitude, whether of man, beast, or bird. They never have any difficulty in disposing of the arms of their figures, and, no matter what may be the action, there is always an ease about it which betrays the artist’s hand even in the rudest figures. Among living objects the crane appears to be the special favorite of the Japanese, its popularity being shared, though not equalled, by the stork and the heron.
These birds are protected both by law and popular opinion, and in consequence are so tame that the native artists have abundant opportunities of studying their attitudes, which they do with a patient love for the subject that is almost beyond praise. No figure is so frequently introduced in Japanese art as the crane, and so thoroughly is the bird understood, that it is scarcely possible to find in all the figures of cranes, whether cast in bronze, drawn on paper, or embossed and painted on articles of furniture, two specimens in which the attitude is exactly the same. With us, even the professional animal painters are apt to take a sketch or two, and copy them over and over again, often repeating errors as well as excellences, while the Japanese artist has too genuine a love for his subject to descend to any such course. Day by day he studies his living models, fills his book with sketches taken rapidly, but truly, and so has always at hand a supply of genuine and original attitudes. In order to show how admirably the Japanese artist can represent the crane, I have introduced below drawings of some beautiful specimens in Sir Hope Grant’s collection.
CANDLESTICK AND CENSERS. (From Sir Hope Grant’s Collection.)
The reader cannot fail to perceive the consummate knowledge of the bird which is displayed in these figures, while the perfection of the work and the delicate finish of the detail are almost beyond praise. Nothing can be more true to nature than the three attitudes there shown. In one case, the bird stands upright and contemplative on one leg, after the manner of its kind. In the second instance, the bird is standing on a tortoise, and, as the neck is thrown into action, both legs are used for support. Then, in the flying bird, whose body serves as a censer, the attitude of the outspread wings and outstretched legs is just as true to nature as the others, all the attitudes having been undoubtedly taken from nature.
The porcelain of the Japanese is singularly beautiful, and sometimes is adorned with ornaments which may be reckoned under the head of “conceits.” For instance, a cup will be adorned with a representation of pleasure boats on the river. With a needle the tiny windows of the boats can be raised, when a party of ladies and gentlemen drinking tea are discovered inside the boat. Sometimes a little tortoise may be seen reposing quietly at the bottom of the cup, until the hot tea is poured into it, when the creature rises to the surface, shaking its head and kicking with its legs as if in pain from the hot liquid.
In Japanese pictures certain curious figures may be seen, looking as if human beings had been wrapped in a bundle of rushes. This strange costume is the snow-cloak of the ordinary Japanese. For mere rain the Japanese generally wear a sort of overcoat made of oiled paper, very thin, nearly transparent, and very efficient, though it is easily torn. But when a snow-storm comes on, the Japanese endues another garment, which is made in a way equally simple and effective.
A sort of skeleton is made of network, the meshes being about two inches in diameter. Upon each point of the mesh is tied a bunch of vegetable fibre, like very fine grass, the bundles being about as thick as an ordinary pencil where they are tied, and spreading toward the ends. The garment thus made is exceedingly light, and answers its purpose in the most admirable manner. The bunches of fibres overlapping each other like the tiles of a house, keep the snow far from the body, while any snow that may melt simply runs along the fibres and drops to the ground. To wet this snow cloak through is almost impossible, even the jet of a garden engine having little effect upon it except when quite close, while no amount of snow would be able to force a drop of water through the loose texture of the material.
The Japanese silks have long been celebrated, but there is one kind of which scarcely anything is known in England. During Lord Elgin’s mission to Japan, a number of rolls of silk were presented to the members of the embassy. They were all in strips about three yards long and one wide, so that they seemed to be useless. They happened, however, to be exceedingly valuable; in fact, absolutely priceless, as no money could buy them. They were made by exiled nobles, who were punished by being sent to the island of Fatsizio, where they spend their time in making these peculiar silks. No one below a certain rank is allowed to wear the silk which has been woven by noble fingers, or even to have the fabric in the house, and in consequence not a piece ever even found its way to the shops.
The subject of Japanese art is most interesting, but we must now close our notice, and proceed to the next people on our list.