THE LAND OF THE RISING SUN.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXV, Issue 47, 24 February 1904, Page 3

THE LAND OF THE RISING SUN.

NO. Vlll. "What a change, to be sure, to see foreign women living here," was the exclamation forced the other day from the lips of one of a party of three Buddhist priests. They were on pilgrimage to the Temple of Haruna, and before entering tho sacred precincts had climbed the broad flight of moss-grown steps to the abbot's house. As they passed through the red gateway into the walled courtyard the unwonted sight of European clothes hanging out to dry had met their eves, followed by the vision of a row of unmistakeably non-Japanese boots outside the ample porch of the ancient house. Then, as they looked within the open

"shoji," they saw a party of American women, one reading the latest "Atlantic Monthly,"' and another deep in the study of a Japanese classic with her little Japanese teacher heel-squatting by her side, while in the entrance hall, converted for the time being into a kitchen, a Japanese Amah was busily cooking European food over a charcoal brazier. To priests reared in the belief that the foot of woman must never tread upon their holy of holies, this vision must have appeared little short of sacrilege. Perhaps it was -well for their peace of lnind that they failed to catch sight of a British woman who is also an inmate of these hallowed walls—is at this moment seated on a heap of futons (quilts) writing her New Zealand letter. Yes! Buddhism has indeed fallen on evil days, and when in 18CS the era of "Meiji" (enlightenment) began, and the edict went forth that the church should he disestablished, and equal favour shown to Shintoism (always the cult of the Imperial Family), the blow fell most heavily of all upon the shrines and temples of beautiful Hanma.

In Nikko, Buddhist buildings and images were allowed to remain intact, but in Ilaruna, through some misunderstandin" of the Imperial decree, four out of five of the lovely temples were ruthlessly destroyed, and those priests who chose to remain in the village hard by adopted, like the Vicar of Bray, the rites of THE COURT RELIGION. And so it cranio about that the grand old mansion which for four centuries had bern the home of Buddhist abbots was left desolate. Its high-pitched, heavilythatched roof, with deep overhanging eaves, no longer lends shelter to the pilgrim monks, who, while the snow yet lingered on the- passes, and before the cherry trees began to bud. used to hasten from the plains to the luxuriantlywooded glen, where, amidst precipitous and overhanging volcanic rocks and in a grove of lofty cryptomerias, the temples stood. And now the priests and monks and pilgrims, if curiosity or some thought of "auld lang syne" prompts them to turn aside to view the famous old house of many hospitalities, will discover that it has been actually besieged and captured by the American invader, and, worst of all, of the wrong sex. If they enter the broad doorway and cross the matted hall they will see sad havoc has been wrought in the abbot's private chapel. All Buddhist emblems have vanished, save a broken drum, and the altar is hung with the white paper praying slips of Shmtoism. The floor of "the chapel does duty as lamp room and kerosene store for the ''Obaasan" (head of the household), who. as widow of a former Buddhist priest, is granted lodgment. In the kitchen end of the mansion she dwells with her son. the village schoolmaster, his wife, and child. an 3 her other sons and daughters, together with an adopted priest and sundry lads, whose relationship is as usual in Japanese families, untraceable by the foreigner. Times are hard, tariffs high,

I aud wages low. A village schoolmasi ter'sj pay comes to only .some six or eight i shillings a week; his family grows, and

as a.jiiongst the poorest. It has. however, its little luxuries, such as the cool, wide sleeved "kimono" and the daily ho-t bath.

; therefore the dear old grandmother, ; with the b.ahl head and bout back, takes upon herself yet another burden—the foreign visitor. It is a strange experience living in this old rambling balconied house. Its cedar flours are built on piles standing high above the level of the courtyard: its massive roof is sup- ! ported by stout pillars. As in all Japa- [ nese houses walls are an afterthought.

Every afternoon, as a matter of course, in every household a charcoal fire is lighted under what looks like a huge wine va.t. and here each member of the family takes his and her turn in bein<* parboiled in excessively hot water for the sp ice of live or ten minute*. In one of the long eoiridors of this ancient houan hang 'two sedan chairs, or "kago," as they are called. They are made of

Corner pillars come fli'bt, secondly a roof, and lastly the "shoji"' ;md "aniado" — i.e., the inner and outer walls. At sunset and daybreak the rolling back or forth of the vooden ''aiaado" sounds like the roar of thunder amongst the mountains, while all day long the ■"shoji" are pushed back, leaving us naught save the roof canopy between us and the summer sky. Whrn a thunderstorm bursts there i.s a hurried shooting forth of walls, while buckets in the corridors catch the drippings from the age-worn thatch. Needless to say. there is no fur-

wickerwork with closed in sides. upon stout bamboo.s, they were in the olden times carried upon the shoulders of a dozen men. These were in the days when the old abbots used to travel in state, but now -they hang with the dust of a century upon them. It was in a similar vehicle that Mr Harris travelled through this country at th e peril of his life in 1850, and reaped the fruit of his daring in securing three years late,- f<, r the United States the" first treaty concluded by Japan with a forei<m Power. But the present

niturc save sleeping quilts for night ir.id squatting quilts foi" day. and tiny foothigli tables. -AH shoes are left in the porch before we outer the rush-woven matted floor. It is, indeed, true, as Mr Lafeadian Hearn tells us, that the Japanese have discovered the fine art of LIVING FINELY IN THE MIDST OF POVERTY.

ANGLO-AMERICAN INVASION of the old abbot's dwelling has proved a veritable God-send to the eager students ■v ho are to be found hero, as everywhere, in Japan. One receives a German lesson every afternoon, and as he prowls around the courtyard he can be overheaxd reciting the "Wacht am Rhein." As soon as the Amado are drawn and , the laiuips arc lighted i-lie schoolmaster

This experience of learning to do with little is one with which some of the worthy pioneers and "old identities" of New Zealand were not altogether unfamiliar. It recalls also 'to mc happy days spent in Stratford House, on the slopes of Mount Eginont, und in the log hufs on the track between Lake Te Anau and Milford Sound. But the mode of life which I now describe is not exceptional, but typical of the whole of Japan, with certain modifications or additions to be found amongst- the most •wealthy as well

and a big- boy of fourteen come in for their English lesson. They are, as a rule, followed by the rest of the family, who squat silently in the shadows. There is pathos in watching the weak-eyed schoolmaster at his novel task. He is probably doomed for life to this lonely mountain village, and to his wretched pittance, and yet he longs for his soul ito soar on the wings of the English lan- | giiage in the breezy heights of our noble literature. Some of the best ethical and in the truest gense .Chris-

tian missionary work is being done by those who spend their Bummer months in encouraging the aspirations of these interesting people. One can truly say to-day, as did St. Francis Xavier centuries ago: "I cannot ceasa from praising these Japanese. They are truly the dolight of my heart."

Below our house lies the village tenanted by the priests and their families apparently unto the third and fourth generations. The roofs of the houses arc weighted down with stones like Swiss chalets, and they stand in irregular fashion on either side of the one street, or rather flight of stone steps, for the incline is too steep for vehicles i to traverse. A brook, overhung with ferns, rushes down one side of the street, and along its margin those quaint stone lanterns peculiar, to Japan are to be found at intervals. Trees, bits of landscape gardening, or picturesque fences lend a charm which only the brush of some skilled artist could portray. At the first break in the declivity the village street curves eastward, and across the bridge which spans the stream stanas the prettiest house, inhabited by a friendly priest. We are invited to inspect his rock garden at the back of his dwelling, and then to take green tea and sweets. A JAPANESE POET. Like so many Japanese, he is addict; ed to poetry, and upon a long, narrow slip of dainty blue paper he has written with his brush in Chinese characters a verse which he composed some months ago in celebration of the Anglo-Japan-ese alliance. This poem he sent up to the Abbot's house as a special gift to the British visitor, together with an elaborately-written visiting card. The Japanese never write as we do with a pen across the paper, but always paint their letters with a brush down the paper, beginning at the right-hand top corner. Every school child is furnished with its stick of Indian ink, its palette, and brushes. One evening the priest came up with his flute. His music sounded delightful after the discords of; the Geishas' samisens and the monotonous whistles of the blind masseurs which are heard up and down the streets of every town as surely as night falls. His music has in it something of the sweetness of the rippling stream which flows through the temple grove above the village under the very shadow of the ponderous rock in which is the cave of Benten, the Goddess of Music Her cult, once the most popular, is neglected nowadays, as the brokendown steps which lead to her eyrie bear witness. Some modern Japanese schoolboys scaled the heights the other day to visit the shrine o_f the goddess, Hut returned home to their grandparents with the retort: -'There is nothing—nothing either to see or hear." It is said that a Buddhit prophet* foretells the downfall of his religion in Japan within fifty years! Are not these some of the first signs and portents? Haruna, August 25, 1903.