CHAPTER VIGARDENS AND GARDEN PARTIES
To understand thoroughly and appreciate justly the theory and history of the art of landscape and other gardening in Japan would require the study of a life-time. It is doubtful if any foreigner could accomplish this task even at the expense of so great devotion;—so subtle and in some respects bizarre and whimsical is the philosophy of nature implied in the tenets of some of the various schools. The native experts, too, take the same delight in minute distinctions, and in the arguments urged in support of them, in the field of æsthetics, which characterises the speculations of Japanese Buddhism in the field of religion. And, indeed, in Japan, as everywhere else in the world, the philosophy of nature and the philosophy of art are both closely related to ideas and sentiments of at least a genuinequasi-religious character. I shall therefore make no attempt to discourse on so abstruse and difficult matters.
It may safely be said, however, that the art of landscape-gardening, as it has developed in Japan,has the general features which are common to all forms of Japanese art. According to Baron Kuki, official custodian of the Emperor’s art treasures, these are, chiefly, the following three: “The first is mildness and pure simplicity. Colouring is for the most part sober and plain, and very seldom gorgeous. Japanese art prefers moderation and genial ease to excessive grandeur; sobriety and chastity to profundity, intensity, and vulgarity. Even such horror-inspiring subjects as the pictures of hell are not thrilling in effect. The statue of Buddha at Nara is grand, but it is only the highwater mark of Continental influence, and does not represent the pure Japanese disposition.
“The second characteristic of Japanese art is its exquisite lightness or delicacy. This is due to the joyful frame of the people’s mind, and to the wonderful dexterity of their hands. There is no artistic product which is not marked by charming workmanship.
“The third feature is its idealism in representation. Japanese art is not realistic, it does not aim at photographic accuracy; but by the free and bold exercise of imagination, it tries to abstract the essential aspect of objects, and to give expression to the artist’s sentiments by its portrayal. It is forthis reason that form is comparatively little regarded, while idea is considered all-important; that it is weak in realistic delineation and strong in decorative design. These three characteristics underlie all Japanese art, and distinguish it from the art of other Oriental nations.”
So far as I am able to recognise these characteristics as present in the gardens which I have seen, they have resulted in certain marked excellencies and in certain scarcely less marked defects. These gardens are to a degree realistic, in that they try to present a picture of all the principal features of nature,—oftentimes, and indeed generally, within a small and seemingly inadequate amount of space. Miniature mountains, rivers, lakes, water-falls, forest, and stretches of sea-coast, may be comprised within the grounds of a gentleman’s ordinary estate, or even within the few square-feet of the humbler citizen’s back-yard. And it is uniformly theback-yardin Japan, where the grounds for “plaisance” are situated. Even a platter or other dish may be made the receptacle for a garden which shall essay to hold up to view a picture of those complex artistic achievements that are accomplished by nature on a so much larger scale.
“IT IS NATURE COMBED AND TRIMMED”
“IT IS NATURE COMBED AND TRIMMED”
“IT IS NATURE COMBED AND TRIMMED”
It is not “pure nature,” or nature untamed andwild, which the Japanese art of gardening aims simply to reproduce and to represent.It is nature excessively combed and trimmed; or—to present the thought in more carefully chosen æsthetical language—nature as she would be if arranged and arrayed according to the most precisely developed ideals of the human artist. Every tree and shrub must, then, be cultivated and pruned with attention to the details of each stem and twig; even the decayed or superfluous leaves, or the needles and cones from the pine trees, require to be picked away. On visiting the famous garden of Count Okuma, in the late Autumn, we found two-score and more of persons, working under expert direction in this way. The same pains is taken in holding up to view the work of nature in marring her own products or in removing them utterly, in order to make room for the fresh creations of her bounteous life. Worn rocks, worm-eaten woods, bare trunks, broken stumps, and all the other results of the ceaseless forces that minister decay and death, have an important place in the Japanese art of gardening. But the worn stones must be carefully placed and kept scrupulously clean; the worm-eaten woods must be selected with due regard to the fantastic patterns which have been worked upon them;the bare trunks and broken stumps need to have their shapes defined by the back-ground of foliage or of open sky; for—to quote again from Baron Kuki—the effort is to “abstract the essential aspect of objects, and to give expression to the artist’s sentiments by their portrayal.”
Only a little reflection is necessary in order to make it evident that for the æsthetical appreciation of the Japanese garden, in its most purely native form, whether as originally imported from China or as developed on native soil, a sympathetic share in this characteristic, sentimental attitude toward nature is absolutely indispensable. In viewing the best examples, where the scale is fairly generous and the artistic theories in control have not been too individualistic or fantastic, such sympathy is not difficult for one of cultivated æsthetical taste; although the Japanese art may still make the impression of being something unusual and foreign. Where, however, such sympathy is wanting, and in the cases of multitudes of inferior examples, no amount of this feeling—or, at least, no reasonable amount—can easily prevent an unfavorable judgment, on account of the impression of artificiality, pettiness, and excessive devotion to details, without a corresponding largeness of spirit. Butwhen one recognises the amount of innocent enjoyment, and of a valuable sort of æsthetical education and refinement—for the Japanese garden is seldom or never vulgar,—which comes to the homes of the lowly in this way, one’s criticism is either totally disarmed or greatly modified in its points of view. Indeed, there is no nation in Europe or America to whom the Japanese may not give valuable lessons in the art of the quiet, soothing, and refining enjoyment of nature and of out-of-door recreations, to the discredit and relative neglect of those coarser and more exhausting ways of enjoying themselves which these other nations prefer. Moon-viewing, cherry-blossom viewing, and mushroom-gathering parties may seem to us lacking in “strong” inducements, as modes of pleasure-seeking; but the men and women who have made an art of cultivating them—and these have been among the greatest in the history of Japan—certainly can no longer be considered as a nation of dilettanti or of weaklings.
It is a not uncommon impression, even on the part of those who have visited the country, that Japan is a “land unrivalled in the beauty and abundance of its flowers,—a belief that nature has lavished her floral gifts with special favour uponthese sunny islands of the Far East.” But as Mr. Conder points out in his admirable book upon “The Floral Art of Japan,” in the sense of “profusion in wild floral plants, it must be admitted that certain Western countries possess attractions which Japanese scenery can scarcely boast.” And although, as he goes on to say, “the comparative scarcity of groups of wild flowering plants, as a colour feature to the landscape, is to some extent made up for by the blossoming trees,” the peculiar characteristics and values of the Japanese art of gardening have not been so much derived from the nature that is without as from the nature that, centuries ago, lay slumbering within the spirit of the race. It must also be remembered that, just as the Japanese floral art does not confine itself to the æsthetical treatment of “flowers,” in our narrower use of the word, but, the rather, includes all flora in the botanical meaning of the term, so the art of gardening in Japan aims to take account of all forms of material and of situations and even of remote suggestions, which fall within the limits of man’s artistic control. “The secret, then, of Japan’s floral fame and floral enchantment lies rather in the care that her people bestow upon Nature’ssimpler gifts than in any transcendent wealth of production.”
“Flower-viewingexcursions, together with such pastimes asShell-gathering,Mushroom-picking, andMoon-viewing, form the favourite occupations of the holiday seeker throughout the year. By a pretty fancy, even the snow-clad landscape is regarded as Winter’s floral display, andSnow-viewingis included as one of theflowerfestivals of the year. The Chinese calendar, used formerly by the Japanese, fitted in admirably with the poetical succession of flowers.Haru, the Japanese Spring, opened with the New Year, which commenced about February, and was heralded by the appearance of the plum blossoms.”
Floral art in Japan, therefore, makes extensive and effective use of flowerless trees, as well as of flowers, and flowering shrubs and flowering trees. Among such flowerless trees, the most important is the pine; and this hardy evergreen is found almost everywhere in the mountain and coast scenery of the country, and in all the gardens, as well as in a large proportion of the floral arrangements designed for in-door enjoyment. In its natural growth and struggle against the violentwinds, it is habitually so quaintly distorted that the miniature representations in the smallest gardens and in tiny pots, are scarcely at all exaggerated. Then follow, in order of preference, the bamboo, the willow, and other flowerless trees.
Inside-floral arrangements should have regard to the character and uses of the room in which they are placed, to the season of the year, to the nature of the festival or other ceremonial occasion which they may chance to celebrate, to the other art-objects and the furniture of the same and adjoining rooms, and to the scenery of the garden and the remoter landscape upon which the room opens. To quote again from Mr. Conder: “Some writers go so far as to say that the floral design in a chamber should have a contrast in style with that of the adjoining garden. This fancy is better appreciated if it be remembered that during a great part of the year the outer walls of the Japanese house, which consist almost entirely of paper slides, are thrown completely open. If there be a landscape garden adjoining, consisting of lakes and hills,” (and as we have already seen these objects may exist in exceedingly miniature form) “the floral arrangement in the rooms should by preference partake of a moorland character; but if the garden be level and waterless,then water plants or mountain trees should be selected for the flower decorations of the chamber interior.”
I have already said that a great deal of philosophy—originally derived from China—together with not a few traditional superstitions, underlies the art of floral arrangement and the allied art of gardening, in Japan. But, what is more important in its influence upon the life of the people, is this: The expression and cultivation of virtue, and of the religious spirit,—of self-denial, gentleness, and the forgetfulness of cares—are both theoretically and in practice realisable and actually realised through this form of art.
Without retracting my previous disclaimer of the intention to venture into the field of philosophy in its relation to the Japanese art of landscape and other forms of gardening, I will make this final quotation from Mr. Conder’s treatise on the subject of floral arrangement, in one of the few passages where he extends his observations to the wider fields of the art of gardening. He has been speaking of the applications made of the male and female principles, so often referred to in Confucian philosophy, to contrasts of forms, surfaces, and colours, in the composition of floral material. “It has ever beena favourite fancy of the Japanese to apply distinctions of sex to inanimate nature. In natural scenery, and landscape-gardening, it is customary to discriminate betweenmaleandfemalecascades,maleandfemaleplants and trees,maleandfemalerocks and stones. The distinction is not one so much of individual and separate quality as of forms placed in combination or contrast, and regarded asmaleorfemalein respect of one another. Thus the main torrent of a water-fall is consideredmasculine, and the lower fall in proximityfeminine. In like manner, rocks used in gardening have no distinguishing sex, unless they are placed in pairs or groups. In the case of two stones of different character placed side by side, the one of bolder and more vigorous shape will be called themale, and the other thefemalestone. Curious as such fancies may seem, they are of considerable value when applied in the arts of design, their observance helping to produce that harmony of well-balanced contrasts which should pervade all artistic composition.”
Another striking illustration of the influence ofquasi-moral and religious sentiment over this form of art is to be seen in the use made of the lotus in the landscape gardening of Japan. “The lotus is closely connected with the Buddhist religion, andis, therefore, associated in the minds of the people with spirit-land. The lakes of the temple grounds, especially those dedicated to the water goddess Benten, are frequently planted with lotuses.... Wherever undisturbed pools and channels of muddy water exist, the lotus is to be found, and even the ditches beside the railway connecting Tokyo with the port of Yokohama are rendered gay in the Summer by the lotus flowers in bloom. As the peony is said to be the national flower of China, so the lotus is regarded as the national flower of India, the source and centre of Buddhism. It is therefore considered out of place as a decoration for occasions of festivity and rejoicing, but is constantly used for obsequies and other sacred ceremonies. The lotus serves as suitable theme for religious contemplation” (and according to the psychologically true thought of the Japanese, the most fit and profitable place for such mental exercises is in the open air, and under the sane and soothing and uplifting influences of nature) “and is the favourite flower of monastic and temple retreats; the best displays are to be seen in the lakes of the old temple groves of Kyoto and other cities. Growing out of the muddiest and most stagnant water, its leaves and flowers are always fresh andclean; although it is particularly sensitive and quickly withers if brought in contact with any of the fertilisers by which other plants are nourished. This purity which the lotus maintains amid surrounding filth is mentioned as one reason for associating this plant with the religious life. A well-known book of Buddhist precepts contains this text:—‘If thou be born in the poor man’s hovel, but hast wisdom, then art thou like the lotus flower growing out of the mud.’”
The most beautiful and perfect of the gardens of Japan, in the old-fashioned Chino-Japanese style, which I have ever seen, are the Kōrakuen in Tokyo, and the Katsura-no-Rikyū in Kyoto. The former was originally the garden of the Prince of Mito, the site of whose mansion is now occupied by the Koishikawa Arsenal. Thus the quiet beauty of the art of the “Old Japan” is brought into contrast with the preparations for displaying its strength of the “New Japan.” But the garden remains intact; and it is justly pronounced “the finest specimen of the Japanese landscape gardener’s art to be seen in the capital.” It is not seen, however, by most visitors to Japan, both because they do not take an interest in, or know where to look for the best things, and also because a special orderis necessary to gain admittance to it. The very name is an embodiment of the finest philosophical sentiment with regard to the relations in which the leisurely enjoyment of nature stands to the sterner duties of a devoted human life. It is derived from three Chinese words:—Kō(“afterward”)Ra(“pleasure”), andKuen(“garden”). It is, therefore, an “afterward-pleasure-garden”;—the thought being that the wise man has his anxieties earlier than others, is beforehand, so to say, in thoughtful care; but his pleasures come later.
The original plan of Kōrakuen was to reproduce many of the scenes of the country with which the literati were familiar—at least, by their names. And Prince Mito had it laid out as a place in which to enjoy a calm old age after a life of labour. One of its miniature lakes is copied from a celebrated lake in China. A temple on a wooded hill is a replica of a famous temple in Kyoto. Again, a bridge and zigzag path lead to a shrine famous in Chinese history; and then we come to an arched stone bridge and another shrine which has an octagonal shape in allusion to the Eight Diagrams of the Chinese system of divination. Everywhere there are magnificent trees, which were selected so as to have some one species at the heighth of its beauty at eachseason of the year; thus there are cherry-trees for the Spring, maples for the Autumn, and plum-trees for the Winter.
An attendant who was to serve as an escort was already in waiting, when we and the Japanese lady whom we accompanied arrived at the gate; and somewhat later General Nishimura, the Government officer in charge of the Arsenal, joined us. After we had taken tea and had a pleasant chat with him we were given the very unusual privilege of taking several photographs of different parts of the garden, among them one or two of a group, which included the General himself.
The Katsura-no-Rikyū, or Katsura Summer Palace, was formerly a retreat made for a Princess of the Imperial family by this name. It is now one of the four so-called “Palaces of the Mikado”—more properly speaking there are two palaces and two villas,—in the city and suburbs of the ancient capital. Permits must be obtained from the Department of the Household, in order to visit any of these palaces; and when I was first in Japan, in 1892, they were much more difficult to secure than they are now. Through Marquis, then Count, Matsukata, who was at that time Prime Minister, the necessary permission was obtained; and the samekindly service furnished me with a letter to the Governor of the District of Kyoto, who sent his private secretary to act as an escort to all the four palaces. This was particularly good fortune; for this gentleman, in his youth, had served on the side of the Mikado’s forces in their contest against the forces of the Shōgunate; he was thus able to point out many details of interest—among them, the defacements of the decorations of the Nijo Palace, that “dream of golden beauty within,” which were made by these young patriots, who thought in this way to show their contempt for the Shōgun, and for ancient art, and their devotion to the cause of the Mikado and of progress.
“WINDING PATHS OVER RUDE MOSS-COVERED STEPPING-STONES”
“WINDING PATHS OVER RUDE MOSS-COVERED STEPPING-STONES”
“WINDING PATHS OVER RUDE MOSS-COVERED STEPPING-STONES”
The garden of the Katsura Summer Palace represents the style of the art which was practised by Kobori Enshū and his “School.” These men were as aristocratic in their tastes as they were enthusiastic in teaching and practising their theories of the arts. According to their canons, everything was to be exceedingly plain and simple; and all the other arts were to be combined in the celebration of thecha-no-yu, or tea ceremonies. Indeed this garden, and all the buildings and other structures in it, may be said to be planned for use in the highest kind of style belonging to such æsthetic enjoyment. Itsexceedingly plain summer-houses are, accordingly, so placed as to look out on modest pools and artificial streams, on plain rustic bridges andwinding paths over rude moss-covered stepping-stones, brought from the two extremities of the Empire. Everywhere there are trees of various species and trained in manifold artificial shapes; there are also moss-clad hillocks and a goodly store of antique lanterns; and in the lake there are islets deftly placed. The lake itself is full of the water-plantKohone, which here has red flowers as well as the usual yellow ones.
It is not necessary to describe or even refer to the more celebrated of the temple gardens, such asKinkakujiandGinkakuji, in Kyoto; or the groves surrounding the Tombs of the Shōguns in Shiba and at Nikko; or the park at Nara, and other nearly or quite flowerless specimens of the art of gardening in Japan; for has not everyone who has spent not more than a single week in the country seen them all; and are they not all sufficiently described in the guidebooks?
The more beautiful of the modern gardens in Japan, while retaining the most admirable features of the native art, have succeeded in adding something which it formerly lacked and in avoiding morefully its suggestion of pettiness and of artificiality. This they have accomplished by allowing a larger freedom from ancient conventions and conceits in the way both of modifying the native traditions and of introducing foreign elements. And since in the best private gardens there has been a most judicious selection and combination of natural resources and æsthetical ideals, there are some examples of the art of landscape-gardening in Japan, which are not excelled, if indeed they are equalled, by anything else of the kind.
I do not expect ever to see again a landscape, prepared and cultivated by human skill, quite so perfectly beautiful as was the Imperial garden at Aoyama, on the afternoon of November 16, 1906, when the annual “chrysanthemum party” was given there to His Majesty’s guests. The rainy weather of the days preceding had prevented the Imperial party from attending the festivities in person. But it had added something to the customary charm of the landscape; for the showers had freshened all the colours of ground and foliage and sky, and the moist haze was now producing that exquisite softness and blending of them all which is so characteristic of the “atmosphere” of Japanese natural scenery and of Japanese pictorial art. Thesize of the garden and the manner of its artistic treatment render it, in some of its features, more like an English deer-park than are any of the gardens of the more purely Chino-Japanese style. There were large pines and maples and autumn camelias of wonderful growth. There was great variety to the surface, both natural and helped out by art; and on such a generous scale as nowhere to suggest artificiality or pettiness. The hills were real hills, and worthy of the name; they made the assembling guests climb their sides and gave them new and extended views as a reward when they had reached their tops. There were also many ponds and winding streams, with picturesque curved bridges crossing the streams. But most conclusive of all the proofs of the highest æsthetical skill was the arrangement of all the larger and the minuter features, from whatever point of view one held them in regard. The most brilliantly coloured maples, of the cut-leaf variety, were planted singly rather than in groups; and every detail of their delicate shapes was carefully brought out against a background of the dark green of pines or the golden yellow of the jinkō tree. As one strolled up any of the several winding paths that led to the high plateau on which the show of chrysanthemumswas placed, one could stop at almost every step and admire the change of far-reaching vistas or nearer views; and over every square yard of the whole, not only each tree and shrub, but each twig and leaf, seemed to have been made an object of loving care.
To speak of the show of flowers, the entertainment, and the friends we met on this occasion would savour more of gossip about garden parties than of description of the art of landscape-gardening. But a word about the flowers. I am of the impression that while we raise in this country as fine, or finer, individual chrysanthemums, the Japanese excel us in the culture and development of the whole plant. For example, some of the specimens shown at this Imperial garden party had as many as 985 flowers on a single stock, making a plant fourteen feet in circumference; and others had no fewer than fifty-five varieties growing from one stock. The more properly artistic character of the show, however, was maintained by the elegant and simple arrangement of the single flowers as to colour and other kindred effects.
Among the private gardens in Japan which have combined the excellences of the native art with certain modifications introduced from abroad, maybe mentioned those of Count Okuma and Marquis Nabeshima. The former seems to me to have been more influenced by English examples; it has a remarkable collection of Japanese maples,—more than one hundred varieties in all. The Count is also quite justly proud of his chrysanthemums, which are as fine as any in Japan. On the other hand the Marquis’ garden has the appearance of having been under the influence of Italian examples,—not, indeed, of the older and more artificial style, but of the sort surrounding the more beautiful of the modern villas.
I have already referred to the fondness of the Japanese for exceedingly minute representations of large natural objects, or even of extensive natural scenes. Hence those single specimens or collections ofBonsai, on which certain wealthy æsthetes have spent thousands ofyen, and which may render their possessors as much the objects of friendly or envious rivalry as were the rival cultivators of rare species of tulips, in Holland some decades of years ago. Some of these aforesaidBonsaiare tiny pines or other trees, only a few inches in heighth, but of years mounting up to a half century or more. Such specimens require more tender and intelligent cultural care than the majority of human beingsare wont to receive. One of the most delightful and benevolent and widely useful of Japanese ladies never travels from home even for a single night without taking along her choice collection ofbonsai, which she cares for daily with her own hands. This same lady presented to my wife one of the products of this art, which consisted of scores of tiny pines growing out of the sand and so arranged that the eye could look through the grove as though upon the distant sea,—a fairly complete picture in miniature of a celebrated view in Kiushiu, along the seashore near Fukuoka.
In Japan every national festival and, indeed, almost every form of social gathering or species of entertainment partakes more or less of the character of a garden party. At the remotest and meanest tea-house in the mountains or by the sea, if the weather permits, you take your cup of tea where you can look upon a scene which nature or man has made into a work of art. If you call upon a native friend, you must enjoy the refreshment which is always offered, either in the garden or in a room or on a verandah, which looks out upon a garden. At every dinner party, when the season is favourable, either before the meal, or afterward in the moonlight, the guests are expected to wander over thegrounds of the host or of the tea-house where the entertainment is given, enjoying its natural beauties. Of the various forms of excursioning, the pleasure of which implies an appreciation of nature,—such as mushroom-gathering, snow-viewing, etc., I have already spoken.
Garden parties are not infrequently given by the more wealthy Japanese at an expense of thousands ofyen. The programme of one of the most elaborate of those given in Tokyo in the Autumn of 1906, included not only the inspection of the gardens and extensive museum of the host, music and refreshments, but the exhibition of Japanese histrionic performances and dances, in which actors and scenic apparatus were as good as could be seen in the very highest-class theatres. The most elaborate of these histrionic performances bore the title of “Urashima,” the Japanese Rip Van Winkle, and employed adramatis personæand orchestra of twenty-one persons. The description in the programme of the First Scene reads as follows: “In the depths of the broad expanse of the Ocean, stands Ryūgū, the seagod’s palace, bathed in serene moonlight which shines bright upon the corals and emeralds. Young fishes swimming about the palace add to the charm of the scene. The gracefulmovement of the sea-bream, the lively evolutions of the lobster, the brisk flouncing of the flounder, etc., are comically represented in theJoruri.” Thus ran the description of the printed programme. The ill condition of the weather,—for it had been raining steadily all day, and the out-of-door part of the entertainment had to be much curtailed,—did not prevent the several thousands of invited guests from attending, or the feast from being spread in the large refreshment tent, which was so arranged that its open side gave a view of a fountain surrounded by chrysanthemums and a beautiful bit of the garden beyond.
About the same time, another wealthy Japanese celebrated an important birthday for which the out-of-door preparations were more elaborate and unusual, if not so æsthetically refined. Mr. A—— had reached his sixty-first year, a time when Heaven should be thanked for prolonging one’s life beyond the customary span, and one’s friends should be summoned to render fitting congratulations. This time, also, the weather was most unpropitious; but the continued downpour, the soaked grass, and liquid mud, did not deter several thousands of guests from assembling. The entire wall surrounding the extensive grounds was solidly covered withground-pine and diamond-shaped medallions of flowers set in at intervals,—the whole outlined with the national colours, red and white. Boards raised and spread with matting furnished dry paths from place to place inside the garden, where numerous booths of bamboo and ground-pine were cleverly distributed, from which the guests were served with tea and many kinds of cakes, with fruit, and with tobacco and beer. Hundreds of little maids in the gay dresses and with the painted faces of the professional waitress, were running about everywhere, ready to bring the various foods and drinks. In two large tents “continuous performances” of fencing or of a theatrical and other sort, were going on; and at the entrances of each stood scores of boys with Japanese paper umbrellas, employed in escorting the rain-bedrizzled crowd from one booth or tent to another. Several bands were stationed here and there, some playing foreign music and others performing on native instruments.
But the most astonishing attempt at the extraordinary by way of entertainment took the shape of a miniature Fuji, which was more than seventy-five feet in heighth, and which could be climbed by a spiral path from the inside. In a clear day, a fine view of Tokyo and its immediate and remoter surroundings,including the real Fuji, could have been seen from the platform at the top. All the rooms of the house on the garden side had been thrown into one, in which, on tables and rows of steps were arranged the store of presents from the guests. The greater number consisted of “katsebushi,” or fancy wooden boxes filled with dried fish. But besides, there were many rolls of white and red silk, for underwear, or for wadding kimonos in the cold weather; numerous screens decorated with the appropriate emblems of pine, bamboo and plum branches, or with cranes to signify wishes for long life, and made of a variety of materials from candy cake to bronze; a pair of rather more than ordinarily well-modelled bronze camels, designed to decorate the grounds and presented by four different banks in which the host was a director.
In each of the large tents a camp fire of charcoal was kept burning, which softened somewhat the damp air; and if one was especially honoured with ahibachifull of live coals at the back, one could sit to see through a play with a fair amount of comfort. Of these histrionic performances, the most interesting to me was one especially designed to typify congratulations and wishes for long life, and regularly performed at the period of the NewYear’s festivities. In it a priest figured as the guardian of a mystical bridge which led up to Paradise; and over the crossing of which a hermit from the mountains contended with two devils, one with hoary locks and one with long and tangled hair of brilliant red, who gnashed their tusks and danced and stamped the ground with fury.
A very different garden party was that given, on a similar occasion, by the Marquis and Marchioness Nabeshima. Although the date was so much later, the fifth of December, the weather was all that could be desired. The engraved and embossed card of invitation, literally interpreted, asked us to do the host the honour of attending a “sixty-first birthday wine-drinking party.” The Marquis was born under that one of the twelve signs of the Japanese zodiac which is called “the sign of the Horse!” It should be explained that the coincidence of the Japanese reckoning of the periods of life by twelves with the Chinese system of reckoning by periods of ten, affords a reason for the pleasant fiction that, at sixty-one, a man begins life over again by becoming a child as it were. It is therefore proper to give him presents adapted to the improvement and pleasure and employment of children. The guests who gathered on this occasionwere the élite of Tokyo; and the Emperor and Empress had signalised the occasion by sending congratulatory presents. Some of the presents, sent by the various friends, were simple offerings in wooden boxes, of food, or of crape; but others were beautiful and expensive dishes of silver, or bags of money resting underneath effigies of the “god of luck.” From an edge of the garden, which overhangs a valley, Fujiyama was to be seen in the distance. Returning to the house, we found that the stage in the ball-room was being used for an exhibition by two famous dancers of the old-fashioned kind (the older man said to be the most famous in Japan), who were dancing to the music made by six or seven samisen players and singers, seated above a chorus of four or five others who were drumming and “yowling” after the fashion of performers in the “Nō.” At a delightful collation which followed, the speech of congratulation to the host was made in English by Prince Ito, who had just returned to his own country, for a brief stay, from his work as Resident-General in Korea. This garden party became the more memorable, because it was while walking in the grounds that I was summoned to meet the Prince, and receive the first intimation of an intention, which culminated in the invitation tovisit Korea as his guest and “unofficial adviser,” the following Spring. And now, alas! this great statesman has—to quote the words of a native paper—“died for the Koreans at the hands of a Korean.”
It has been for several years the custom of Count Okuma to throw open his beautiful grounds to garden parties, not only in the interest of entertaining his many personal and political friends, but also in the favour of an endless variety of good causes. Here rare roses, and wonderful chrysanthemums, and various native exhibitions of athletic, or musical, or histrionic skill, may be seen; here, also, problems of state and plans of beneficence may be discussed.
“THE WORSHIP OF NATURE IN THE OPEN AIR”
“THE WORSHIP OF NATURE IN THE OPEN AIR”
“THE WORSHIP OF NATURE IN THE OPEN AIR”
It would be a great mistake, however, to suppose that the enjoyment of the Japanese garden in a social way is confined to the wealthy and the nobles with their large estates. All over the country the multitude of the people love nature and have it abundantly at their command to enjoy in quiet ways. In Tokyo thousands of artisans and common labourers and coolies, with wives and children, will trudge for miles to view the plum or cherry blossoms, or to see the morning-glories open at four o’clock of a Summer morning. The temple groves on all the many holidays are thronged with crowds,who combine their unintelligent and not even half-hearted worship with a much more intelligent and heartfelt appreciation of the beauties of nature. Indeed, with these multitudes, the worship of the departed ancestor in the family shrine in-doors, and theworship of nature in the open airconstitutes their only religion.
How profoundly influenced is all the art and all the national life of the Japanese by this love and æsthetical appreciation of all forms of natural beauty, it is not necessary to say in detail. Gardens and garden parties are not trifling incidents or accessories of man’s existence, happiness, and progress, in Japan; for there, indeed, they are taken very seriously, and as necessaries of living well and happily at all.