CHAPTER IX. THE NEIGHBORING HOUSE.

GLOSSARY. Footnotes

ILLUSTRATIONS

Fig. 1.—View in Tokio, showing shops and houses. (Copied from a Photograph). Fig. 2.—View in Tokio, showing temples and gardens. (Copied from a Photograph). Fig. 3.—View of Enoshima (Copied from a Photograph). Fig. 4.—Side Framing. Fig 5.—Pounding Down Foundation Stones. Fig. 6.—Foundation Stones. Fig. 7.—Section of Framing. Fig. 8.—Framing. Fig. 9.—End‐framing of Large Building. Fig 10.—Roof‐frame of Large Building. Fig. 11.—Roof‐framing of a Kura. Fig. 12.—Framing of an Ordinary Two‐stored House. Fig. 13.—Outside Braces. Fig. 14.—Outside Brace. Fig. 15.—Ornamental Brace. Fig. 16.—Method of Cutting Timber for House‐Finish. Fig. 17.—Section of Post Grooved for Partition. Fig. 18.—Bundle of Boards. Fig. 19.—Section of ceiling. Fig. 20.—Ceiling‐rafters Supported Temporarily. Fig. 21.—Method of Suspending Ceiling as Seen from Above. Fig. 22.—Ceiling‐Board Weighted with Stones. Fig. 23.—Ceiling‐Board in Closet. Fig. 24.—Method of Removing Boards from a Bundle to Preserve Uniformity of Grain. Fig. 25.—Arrangement of Square Tiles on Side of House. Fig. 26.—A Japanese Carpenter’s Vice. Fig. 27.—Carpenters’ Tools in Common Use. Fig. 28.—A Japanese Nail‐Basket. Fig. 29.—A Carpenter’s Marking‐Brush Made of Wood. Fig. 30.—The Sumi‐Tsubo. Fig. 31.—The Japanese Plumb‐Line. Fig. 32.—Ancient Carpenter (copied from an old painting). Fig. 33.—Street in Kanda Ku, Tokio. Fig. 34.—Street in Kanda Ku, Tokio. Fig. 35.—Block of Cheap Tenements in Tokio. Fig. 36.—Street View of Dwelling in Tokio. Fig. 37.—View of Dwelling from Garden, Tokio. Fig. 38.—Dwelling Near Kudan, Tokio. Fig. 39.—Country Inn in Rikuzen. Fig. 40.—Country Inn in Rikuzen. Fig. 41.—House Near Mororan, Yezo. Fig. 42.—Bay Window, Village of Odzuka, Rikuzen. Fig. 43.—Three‐storied House in Rikuchiu. Fig. 44.—Street in the Suburbs of Morioka. Fig. 45.—Old Farm‐house in Kabutoyama. Fig. 46.—Entrance to Court‐yard of Old House in Kioto. Fig. 47.—Old house in Kioto. Court‐yard view. Fig. 48.—Old House in Kioto, Garden View. Fig. 49.—House in Tokio. Fig. 50.—View from the Second Story of Dwelling in Imado, Tokio. Fig. 51.—Old Inn in Mishima, Suruga. Fig. 52.—Village Street in Nasaike, Yamashiro. Fig. 53.—Shore of Osumi. Fig. 54.—Farmer’s Houses in Mototaru‐Midsu, Osumi. Fig. 55.—Fishermen’s Huts in Hakodate. Fig. 56.—Fishermen’s Huts in Enoshima. Fig. 57.—Kura in Tokio. Fig. 58.—Kura, or Fire‐proof Buildings in Tokio. Fig. 59.—Old House in Hakodate. Fig. 60.—Hisashi. Fig. 61.—Bunch of shingles, nails, and hammer. Fig. 62.—Shingler’s Hand. Fig. 63.—Bamboo Strips on Shingle‐Roof. Fig. 64.—Roof with shingles partly laid. Fig. 65.—Ridge on shingle‐roof in Musashi. Fig. 66.—Water‐conductor. Fig. 67.—Ridge of tiled roof. Fig. 68.—Ornamental coping of tiles. Fig. 69.—Ornamental coping of tiles. Fig. 70.—Ornamental coping of tiles. Fig. 71.—Eaves of tiled roof. Fig. 72.—Nagasaki tiled roof. Fig. 73.—Hon‐gawara, or True Tile. Fig. 74.—Yedo‐gawara, or Yedo‐tile eaves. Fig. 75.—French tile eaves. Fig. 76.—Itami tile for ridge. Fig. 77.—Stone roof. Fig. 78.—Thatch, and thatcher’s implements. Fig. 79.—End of roof in Fujita, Iwaki. Fig. 80.—Tiled ridge of thatched roof in Iwaki. Fig. 81.—Tiled ridge of thatched roof in Musashi. Fig. 82.—Bamboo‐ridge of thatched roof in Musashi. Fig. 83.—Thatched Roof, near Tokio. Fig. 84.—Thatched roof, near Tokio. Fig. 85.—Ridge of thatched roof at Kabutoyama, Musashi. Fig. 86.—Crest of thatched roof in Omi. Fig. 87.—Tile and bamboo ridge of thatched roof, Takatsuki, Setsu. Fig. 88.—Crest of thatched roof in Mikawa. Fig. 89.—Crest of thatched roof in Kioto. Fig. 90.—Crest of thatched roof in Mikawa. Fig. 91.—Crest of thatched roof in Kii. Fig. 92.—Thatched roof in Totomi. Fig. 93.—Crest of thatched roof in Kii. Fig. 94.—Crest of thatched roof in Ise. Fig. 95.—Paved space under eaves of thatched roof. Fig. 96.—Guest‐room in Hachi‐ishi. Fig. 97.—Plan of dwelling‐house in Tokio. _P,_ Parlor or Guest‐room; _S,_ Sitting‐room; _D,_ Dining‐room; _L,_ Library, _St,_ Study, _SR_ Servants’ Room; _B,_ Bed‐room, _K,_ Kitchen, _H,_ Hall; _V_ Vestibule; _C,_ Closet; _T_ Tokonoma; _Sh,_ Shrine, _U_ and _L,_ Privy. Fig. 98.—Plan of dwelling‐house in Tokio. _P,_ Parlor or Guest‐room; _B,_ Bed‐room, _K,_ Kitchen, _SR_ Servants’ Room; _BR,_ Bath Room, _E, E,_ Side‐entrances, _V_ Vestibule; _H,_ Hall; _WR,_ Waiting‐room; _C,_ Closet; _T_ Tokonoma; _U_ and _L,_ Privy. Fig. 99.—Plan of a portion of a Daimyo’s residence. Fig. 100.—Mat. Fig. 101.—Arrangement of mats in different‐sized rooms. Fig. 102.—Attitude of woman in sitting. Fig. 103.—Section through verandah and guest‐room. Fig. 104.—Reed‐screen. Fig. 105.—Sliding panel. Fig. 106.—Hikite. Fig. 107.—Hikite. Fig. 108.—Hikite. Fig. 109.—Hikite. Fig. 110.—Hikite with cord. Fig. 111.—Straightening shōji frame. Fig. 112.—Shōji with ornamental frame. Fig. 113.—Portion of Toko‐Bashira. Figs. 114, 115, 116, and 117. Ornamental‐headed nails. Fig. 118.—Shelves contrasted with conventional drawing of mist, or clouds. Fig. 119.—Guest‐room. Fig. 120.—Guest‐room, with recesses in corners. Fig. 121.—Guest‐room showing circular window. Fig. 122.—Guest‐room showing writing‐place. Fig. 123.—Guest‐room with wide tokonoma. Fig. 124.—Small guest‐room. Fig. 125.—Guest‐room of dwelling in Tokio. Fig. 126.—Guest‐koom in Kiyomidzu, Kioto. Fig. 127.—Guest‐room of dwelling in Tokio. Fig. 128.—Guest‐room of a country house. Fig. 129.—Corner of guest‐room. Fig. 130.—Tea‐room in Nan‐en‐ji temple, Kioto. Fig. 131.—Tea‐room in Fujimi pottery, Nagoya. Fig. 132.—Tea‐room in Miyajima. Fig. 133.—Kitchen for tea‐utensils. Fig. 134.—Tea‐room in Imado, Tokio. Fig. 135.—Corner of the tea‐room shown in Fig. 134. Fig. 136.—Room in second story of an old building in Kawagoye, Musashi. Fig. 137.—Room in kura fitted up as a library, Tokio. Fig. 138.—Framework for draping room in kura. Fig. 139.—Space between dwelling and kura, roofed over and utilized as a kitchen in Tokio. Fig. 140.—Doorway of an old kura in Kioto. Fig. 141.—Key to kura, and bunch of keys. Fig. 142.—Padlock to kura. Fig. 143.—Panelled ceiling. Fig. 144.—Ramma in Hakòne Village. Fig. 145.—Bamboo ramma. Fig. 146.—Porcelain ramma in Tokio. Fig. 147.—Ramma of bamboo and perforated panel. Fig. 148.—Carved wood ramma in Gojio Village, Yamato. Fig. 149.—Carved wood ramma in town of Yatsushiro, Higo. Fig. 150.—Ramma, composed of two thin boards, in Nagoya, Owari. Fig. 151.—Shōji for window. Fig. 152.—Shōji‐frame for window. Fig. 153.—Shōji‐frame for window. Fig. 154.—Window. Fig. 155.—Biyō‐bu, or folding screen. Fig. 156.—Wrought metallic mounting of screen frame. Fig. 157.—Screen‐box. Fig. 158.—Foot‐weight for screen. Fig. 159.—Furosaki Biyō‐bu. Fig. 160.—Model of tsui‐tate in pottery. Fig. 161.—Tsui‐tate. Fig. 162.—Bamboo curtains. Fig. 163.—Bamboo curtain. Fig. 164.—Curtain screen. Fig. 165.—Fringed curtains. Fig. 166.—Slashed curtain. Fig. 167.—Kitchen in old farmhouse at Kabutoyama. Fig. 168.—Kitchen range. Fig. 169.—Kitchen range, with smoke‐conductor. Fig. 170.—Kitchen in city house. Fig. 171.—Braziers. Fig. 172.—Bamboo rack and knife case. Fig. 173.—Ji‐zai Fig. 174.—Fireplace in country house. Fig. 175.—The best fireplace. Fig. 176.—An adjustable device for supporting a kettle. Fig. 177.—Kitchen closet, drawers, cupboard, and stairs combined. Fig. 178.—Stair‐rail. Fig. 179.—Steps to verandah. Fig. 180.—Bath‐tub with side oven. Fig. 181.—Bath‐tub with inside flue. Fig. 182.—Bath‐tub in section, with oven outside the room. Fig. 183.—Bath‐tub with outside heating‐chamber. Fig. 184.—Bath‐tub with iron base. Fig. 185.—Lavatory in country inn. Fig. 186.—Lavatory in private house. Fig. 187.—Lavatory copied from Japanese book. Fig. 188‐192.—Forms of towel‐racks. Fig. 193.—Forms of pillow in common use. Fig. 194.—Showing position of head in resting on pillow. Fig. 195.—Heating arrangement in floor. Fig. 196.—Elbow‐rest. Fig. 197.—Common hibachi. Fig. 198.—Hibachi. Fig. 199.—Hibachi. Fig. 200.—Hibachi arranged for company. Fig. 201.—Tabako‐bon. Fig. 202.—Tabako‐box. Fig. 203.—Tabako‐box. Fig. 204.—Pan for holding burning charcoal. Fig. 205.—Iron candlestick. Fig. 206.—Lamp. Fig. 207.—Lamp. Fig. 208.—Lamp and laquered stand. Fig. 209.—Wall‐lamp. Fig. 210.—Lamp. Fig. 211.—Pottery lamp. Fig. 212.—Pottery lamp. Fig. 213.—Pottery candlestick. Fig. 214.—Fixed street‐lantern. Fig. 215.—Household shrine. Fig. 216.—Swallows’ nests in private house. Fig. 217.—Interior of privy. Fig. 218.—Privy of inn in Hachi‐ishi village, Nikko. Fig. 219.—Privy connected with a merchant’s house in Asakusa. Fig. 220.—Interior of a privy in Asakusa. Fig. 221.—Main entrance to house. Fig. 222.—Plan of vestibule and hall. Fig. 223.—Shoe‐closet. Fig. 224.—Lantern‐shelf in hall. Fig. 225.—Grated entrance, with sliding door. Fig. 226.—Verandah floor. Fig. 227.—Verandah of an old Kioto house. Fig. 228.—Balcony rail. Fig. 229.—Balcony rail and perforated panels. Fig. 230.—Balcony rail. Fig. 231.—Balcony rail. Fig. 232.—Balcony rail. Fig. 233.—Rain‐door lock unbolted. Fig. 234.—Rain‐door lock bolted. Fig. 235.—Knob for rain‐door. Fig. 236.—Corner‐roller for rain‐door. Fig. 237.—Verandah showing swinging closet for rain‐doors, and also Chōdzu‐bachi. Fig. 238.—Chōdzu‐bachi. Fig. 239.—Chōdzu‐bachi. Fig. 240.—Chōdzu‐bachi. Fig. 241.—Chōdzu‐bachi and Hisashi‐yen. Fig. 242.—Gateway in yashiki building. Fig. 243.—Gateway of city house from within. Fig. 244.—Gate‐rattle. Fig. 245.—Bolt for little sliding door in gateway. Fig. 246.—Gateway to city residence. Fig. 247.—Gateway to city residence. Fig. 248.—Gateway near Tokio. Fig. 249.—Gateway. Fig. 250.—Rustic gateway. Fig. 251.—Rustic gateway. Fig. 252.—Rustic garden gate. Fig. 253.—Garden gateway. Fig. 254.—Ordinary wooden fence. Fig. 255.—Stake fence. Fig. 256.—Bamboo fence. Fig. 257.—Fence in Hakòne village. Fig. 258.—Rustic garden‐fence. Fig. 259.—Sode‐gaki. Fig. 260.—Sode‐gaki. Fig. 261.—Sode‐gaki. Fig. 262.—Barred opening in a fence. Fig. 263.—Garden tablet. Fig. 264.—Ishi‐dōrō in Tokio Fig. 265.—Ishi‐dōrō in Miyajima Fig. 266.—Ishi‐dōrō in Shirako, Musashi. Fig. 267.—Ishi‐dōrō in Utsunomiya. Fig. 268.—Stone foot‐bridge. Fig. 269.—Stone foot‐bridge. Fig. 270.—Garden brook and foot‐bridge. Fig. 271.—Summer‐house in private garden, Tokio. Fig. 272.—Summer‐house in imperial garden, Tokio. Fig. 273.—Rustic opening in summer‐house, Kobe. Fig. 274.—Rustic opening in summer‐house, Okazaki. Fig. 275.—Various forms of garden paths. Fig. 276.—Wooden trough for plants. Fig. 277.—Plant‐pot of old plank. Fig. 278.—Dwarf plum. Fig. 279.—Dwarf pine. Fig. 280.—Curiously trained pine‐tree. Fig. 281.—Dwarfed pine. Fig. 282.—Shrubs wrapped in straw for winter. Fig. 283.—Showing approaches to house. (Reproduced from “Chikusan teizoden”, a Japanese work.) Fig. 284.—Little garden belonging to the priests of a buddhist temple. (Reproduced from “Chikusan teizoden”, a Japanese work.) Fig. 285.—Garden of a merchant. (Reproduced from “Chikusan teizoden”, a Japanese work.) Fig. 286.—Garden of a daimio. (Reproduced from “Chikusan teizoden”, a Japanese work.) Fig. 287.—Ancient form of well‐curb. Fig. 288.—Stone well‐curb in private garden. Fig. 289.—Wooden well‐frame. Fig. 290.—Rustic well‐frame. Fig. 291.—Aqueduct reservoir at Miyajima, Aki. Fig. 292.—Aqueducts at Miyajima, Aki. Fig. 293.—Well at Kaga Yashiki, Tokio. Fig. 294.—Hanging flower‐holder of bamboo. Fig. 295.—Hanging flower‐holder of basket‐work. Fig. 296.—Cheap bracket for flower‐pots. Fig. 297.—Curious combination of buckets for flowers. Fig. 298.—Framed picture, with supports. Fig. 299.—Hashira kakushi. Fig. 300.—Writing‐desk. Fig. 301.—Staging on house‐roof, with bucket and brush. Fig. 302.—Box for transporting articles. Fig. 303.—Malay house near singapore. Fig. 304.—Ridge of roof in Cholon, Anam. Fig. 305.—Interior of Malay house, showing bed‐place. Singapore. Fig. 306.—Aino house, Yezo. Fig. 307.—Aino house, Yezo.

To William Sturgis Bigelow, M.D. In memory of the delightful experiences in the “Heart of Japan” this volume is affectionately inscribed by the AUTHOR.

PREFACE

In an exceedingly interesting article on the early study of the Dutch in Japan, by Professor K. Mitsukuri,(1) the author has occasion to refer to the uncle of one of the three famous Japanese scholars who translated into Japanese a Dutch book on anatomy. He says this uncle “Miyada was almost eccentric in his disposition. He held it to be a solemn duty to learn any art or accomplishment that might be going out of the world, and then describe it so fully that it might be preserved to posterity.” The nephew was faithful to his uncle’s instructions, and “though following medicine for his profession, he took it upon himself to learn ‘hitoyogiri,’—a certain kind of music which was well‐nigh forgotten,—and even went so far as to study a kind of dramatic acting.”

Though not animated by Miyada’s spirit when I set about the task of collecting the material embodied in this work, I feel now that the labor has not been altogether in vain, as it may result in preserving many details of the Japanese house,—some of them trivial, perhaps,—which in a few decades of years may be difficult, if not impossible, to obtain. Whether this has been accomplished or not, the praiseworthy ambition of the old Japanese scholar might well be imitated by the ethnological student in his investigations,—since nothing can be of greater importance than the study of those nations and peoples who are passing through profound changes and readjustments as a result of their compulsory contact with the vigorous, selfish, and mercantile nations of the West, accompanied on their part by a propagandism in some respects equally mercenary and selfish.

Thanks to the activity of a number of students of various nationalities in the employ of the Japanese government, and more especially to the scholarly _attachés_ of the English legation in Japan, much information has been obtained concerning this interesting people which might otherwise have been lost. If investigators and students would bear in mind the precept of Miyada, and seize upon those features in social life—forms of etiquette, frames, ceremonies, and other manners and customs—which are the first to change in any contact with alien races, a very important work would be accomplished for the future sociologist. The native Japanese student might render the greatest service in this work by noting down from the older persons, before it is too late, the social features and habits of his own people as they were before the late Revolution. Profound changes have already taken place in Japan, and other changes are still in progress. As an indication of the rapidity of some of these changes, reference might be made to an interesting memoir, by Mr. McClatchie, on “The Feudal Mansions of Yedo;” and though this was written but ten years after the revolution of 1868, he speaks of the _yashiki, _or fortified mansions where dwelt the feudal nobles of Japan, as in “many cases deserted, ruined, and fallen into decay;” and he describes observances and manners connected with the _yashiki,_ such as “etiquette of the gates,” “exchange of yashiki,” “rules relating to fires,” etc., which were then obsolete at the time of his writing, though in full force but a few years before.

I shall be particularly grateful for any facts concerning the Japanese house beyond those recorded in this book, or which may be already in my possession, as also for the correction of any errors which may have unavoidably been made in the text. Should a second edition of this work be called for, such new information and corrections will be incorporated therein, with due acknowledgments.

I wish to express my gratitude to Dr. W. S. Bigelow, whose delightful companionship I enjoyed during the collection of many of the facts and sketches contained in this volume, and whose hearty sympathy and judicious advice were of the greatest service to me. To Professor and Mrs. E. F. Fenollosa, also, my thanks are especially due for unnumbered kindnesses during my last visit to Japan.

I would also here return my thanks to a host of Japanese friends who have at various times, in season and out of season, granted me the privilege of sketching their homes and examining their dwellings from top to bottom in quest of material for this volume; who furthermore have answered questions, translated terms, hunted up information, and in many ways aided me,—so that it may be truly said, that had this assistance been withheld, but little of my special work could have been accomplished. Any effort to recall the names of all these friends would lead to the unavoidable omission of some; nevertheless, I must specially mention Mr. H. Takamine, Director of the Tokio Normal School; Dr. Seiken Takenaka; Mr. Tsunejiro Miyaoka; Mr. S. Tejima, Director of the Tokio Educational Museum; Professors Toyama, Yatabe, Kikuchi, Mitsukuri, Sasaki, and Kozima, and Mr. Ishikawa and others, of the University of Tokio; Mr. Isawa and Mr. Kodzu, Mr. Fukuzawa, the distinguished teacher and author; Mr. Kashiwagi, Mr. Kohitsu, and Mr. Masuda. I must also acknowledge my indebtedness to Mr. H. Kato, Director of the University of Tokio, to Mr. Hattori, Vice‐director, and to Mr. Hamao and other officers of the Educational Department, for many courtesies, and for special accommodations during my last visit to Japan. Nor must I omit to mention Mr. Tachibana, Director of the nobles’ school; Mr. Kikkawa, Mr. Tahara, Mr. Kineko, Mr. Ariga, Mr. Tanada, Mr. Nakawara, Mr. Yamaguchi, Mr. Negishi of Kabutoyama, and many others, who supplied me with various notes of interest. In this country I have been specially indebted to Mr. A. S. Mihara and Mr. S. Fukuzawa, for valuable assistance during the preparation of the text; and to Mr. Arakawa, Mr. Shiraishi, Mr. Shugio, and Mr. Yamada of New York, for timely aid.

To the Board of Trustees of the Peabody Academy of Science, who, recognizing the ethnological value of the work I had in hand, granted me a release from my duties as Director until I could complete it; and to Professor John Robinson, Treasurer of the Academy, and Mr. T. F. Hunt, for friendly suggestions and helpful interest, as also to Mr. Percival Lowell for numerous courtesies,—my thanks are due. I must not forget to record here my indebtedness to Mr. A. W. Stevens, chief proof‐reader of the University Press, for his invaluable assistance in the literary part of my labors, and for his faithful scrutiny of the proof‐sheets. At the same time I desire to thank Miss Margarette W. Brooks for much aid given to me in my work; my daughter, Miss Edith O. Morse, for the preliminary tracings of the drawings from my journals; Mr. L. S. Ipsen, who drew the unique and beautiful design for the cover of this book; Mr. A. V. S. Anthony for judicious supervision of the process‐work in the illustrations; the University Press for its excellent workmanship in the printing of the book; and the Publishers for the generous manner in which they have supported the undertaking. I will only add, that the excellent Index to be found at the end of this book was prepared by Mr. Charles H. Stevens.

EDWARD S. MORSE. Salem, Mass., U. S. A. November, 1885.

INTRODUCTION

Within twenty years there has gradually appeared in our country a variety of Japanese objects conspicuous for their novelty and beauty,—lacquers, pottery and porcelain, forms in wood and metal, curious shaped boxes, quaint ivory carvings, fabrics in cloth and paper, and a number of other objects as perplexing in their purpose as the inscriptions which they often bore. Most of these presented technicalities in their work as enigmatical as were their designs, strange caprices in their ornamentation which, though violating our hitherto recognized proprieties of decoration, surprised and yet delighted us. The utility of many of the objects we were at loss to understand; yet somehow they gradually found lodgment in our rooms, even displacing certain other objects which we had been wont to regard as decorative, and our rooms looked all the prettier for their substitution. We found it difficult to formulate the principles upon which such art was based, and yet were compelled to recognize its merit. Violations of perspective, and colors in juxtaposition or coalescing that before we had regarded as inharmonious, were continually reminding us of Japan and her curious people. Slowly our methods of decoration became imbued with these ways so new to us, and yet so many centuries old to the people among whom these arts had originated. Gradually yet surely, these arts, at first so little understood, modified our own methods of ornamentation, until frescos wall‐papers, wood‐work and carpets, dishes and table‐cloth metal work and book‐covers, Christmas cards and even railroad advertisements were decorated, modelled, and designed after Japanese style.

It was not to be wondered at that many of our best artists,—men like Coleman, Vedder, Lafarge, and others,—had long fore recognized the transcendent merit of Japanese decorative art. It was however somewhat remarkable that the public at large should come so universally to recognize it, and in so short a time. Not only our own commercial nation, but art‐loving France, musical Germany, and even conservative England yielded to this invasion. Not that new designs were evolved by us; on the contrary, we were content to adopt Japanese designs outright, oftentimes with a mixture of incongruities that would have driven Japanese decorator stark mad. Designs appropriate for the metal mounting of a sword blazed out on our ceilings; motives fror a heavy bronze formed the theme for the decoration of friable pottery; and suggestions from light crape were woven into hot carpets to be trodden upon. Even with this mongrel admixture, it was a relief by any means to have driven out of our dwelling the nightmares and horrors of design we had before endured so meekly,—such objects, for example, as a child in dead brass, kneeling in perpetual supplication on a dead brass cushion, while adroitly balancing on its head a receptacle for kerosene oil; and a whole regiment of shapes equally monstrous. Our walls no longer assailed us with designs that wearied our eyes and exasperated our brains by their inanities. We were no longer doomed to wipe our feet on cupids, horns of plenty, restless tigers, or scrolls of architectural magnitudes. Under the benign influence of this new spirit it came to be realized that it was not always necessary to tear a flower in bits to recognize its decorative value; and that the simplest objects in Nature—a spray of bamboo, a pine cone, a cherry blossom—in the _right place_ were quite sufficient to satisfy our craving for the beautiful.

The Japanese exhibit at the Centennial exposition in Philadelphia came to us as a new revelation; and the charming onslaught of that unrivalled display completed the victory. It was then that the Japanese craze took firm hold of us. Books on Japan rapidly multiplied, especially books on decorative art; but it was found that such rare art could be properly represented only in the most costly fashion, and with plates of marvellous elaboration. What the Japanese were able to do with their primitive methods of block‐printing and a few colors, required the highest genius of our artists and chromo‐lithographers; and even then the subtile spirit which the artist sought for could not be caught.

The more intelligent among our collectors soon recognized that the objects from Japan divided themselves into two groups,—the one represented by a few objects having great intrinsic merit, with a refinement and reserve of decoration; the other group, characterized by a more florid display and less delicacy of treatment, forming by far the larger number, consisting chiefly of forms in pottery, porcelain, lacquer and metal work. These last were made by the Japanese expressly for the foreign market, many of them having no place in their economy, and with few exceptions being altogether too gaudy and violent to suit the Japanese taste. Our country became flooded with them; even the village grocery displayed them side by side with articles manufactured at home for the same class of customers, and equally out of place in the greater marts of the country. To us, however, these objects were always pretty, and were moreover so much cheaper, with all their high duties and importer’s profits, than the stuff to which we had been accustomed, that they helped us out amazingly at every recurring Christmas. Of the better class of objects, nearly all of them were originally intended either for personal use or adornment,—such as clasps, little ivory carvings, sectional lacquer‐boxes, fans, etc.; or mere objects of household use, such as hanging flower‐holders, bronze and pottery vases, incense burners, lacquer cabinets, dishes, etc.

Naturally great curiosity was awakened to know more about the social life of this remarkable people; and particularly was it desirable to know the nature of the house that sheltered such singular and beautiful works of art. In response to the popular demand, book after book appeared; but with some noteworth exceptions they repeated the same information, usually prefaced by an account of the more than special privileges accorded to their authors by the Japanese government, followed by history of the Japanese empire from its first emperor down the present time,—apparently concise enough, but interminable with its mythologies, wars, decays, restorations, etc. Then we had the record of an itinerary of a few weeks at some treaty port, or of a brief sojourn in the country, where, to illustrate the bravery of the author, imaginary dangers were conjured up; a wild guess at the ethnical enigma, erroneous conceptions of Japanese character and customs,—the whole illustrated by sketches derived from previous works on the same subject, or from Japanese sources, often without due credit being given; and finally we were given a forecast of the future of Japan, with an account of the progress its public were making in adopting outside customs, with no warning of the acts of _hara‐ kiri_ their arts would be compelled to perform in the presence of so many influences alien to their nature. As an illustration of this, could the force of absurdity go further than the attempt to introduce the Italian school of painting,—and this in the land of a Kano; or the melancholy act of a foreign employé of one of the colleges in Tokio, in inducing or compelling all its pupils to wear hot woollen Scotch caps,—converting a lot of handsome dark‐haired boys, with graceful and picturesque dress, into a mob of ridiculous monkeys?

In these books on Japan we look in vain for any but the most general description of what a Japanese home really is; even Rein’s work, so apparently monographic, dismisses the house and garden in a few pages.(2) The present work is an attempt to fill this deficiency, by describing not only the variety of dwellings seen in Japan, but by specializing more in detail the variety of structure seen within the building.

In the following pages occasion has often led to criticism and comparison. Aside from any question of justice, it would seem as if criticism, to be of any value, should be comparative; that is to say, in any running commentary on Japanese ways and conditions the parallel ways and conditions of one’s own people should be as frankly pointed out, or at least recognized. When one enters your city,—which is fairly clean and tidy—complains of its filthy streets, the assumption is that the streets of his own city are clean; and when these are found to dirty beyond measure, the value of the complaint or criticism is at once lost, and the author immediately set down as a wilful maligner. Either we should follow the dictum of the great moral Teacher, and hesitate to behold the mote in others’ eyes or else in so doing we should consider the beam in our own.

This duty, however, even to fair and unprejudiced minds, becomes a matter of great difficulty. It is extraordinary how blind one may be to the faults and crimes of his own people, and how reluctant to admit them. We sing heroic soldier‐songs with energy and enthusiasm, and are amazed to find numbers in a Japanese audience disapproving, because of the bloody deeds celebrated in such an exultant way. We read daily our papers the details of the most blood‐curdling crimes, and often of the most abhorrent and unnatural ones; and yet we make no special reflections on the conditions of society where such things are possible, or put ourselves much out of the way to arouse the people to a due sense of the degradation and stain on the community at large because of such things. But we go to another country and perhaps find a new species of vice; its novelty at once arrests our attention, and forthwith we howl at the enormity of the crime and the degradation of the nation in which such a crime could originate, send home the most exaggerated accounts, malign the people without stint, and then prate to them about Christian charity!

In the study of another people one should if possible look through colorless glasses; though if one is to err in this respect, it were better that his spectacles should be rose‐colored than grimed with the smoke of prejudice. The student of Ethnology as a matter of policy, if he can put himself in no more generous attitude, had better err in looking kindly and favorably at a people whose habits and customs he is about to study. It is human nature the world over to resist adverse criticism; and when one is prowling about with his eyes darkened by the opaquest of uncorrected provincial glasses, he is repelled on all sides; nothing is accessible to him; he can rarely get more than a superficial glance at matters. Whereas, if he tries honestly to seek out the better attributes of a people, he is only too welcome to proceed with any investigation he wishes to make; even customs and ways that appear offensive are freely revealed to him, knowing that he will not wilfully distort and render more painful what is at the outset admitted on all hands to be bad.

We repeat that such investigation must be approached in a spirit of sympathy, otherwise much is lost or misunderstood. This is not only true as to social customs, but also as to studies in other lines of research as well. Professor Fenollosa, the greatest authority on Japanese pictorial art, says most truthfully that “it is not enough to approach these delicate children of the spirit with the eye of mere curiosity, or the cold rigid standard of an alien school. One’s heart must be large enough to learn to love, as the Japanese artist loves, before the veil can be lifted to the full splendor of their hidden beauties.”

In this spirit I have endeavored to give an account of Japanese homes and their surroundings. I might have dealt only with the huts of the poorest, with the squalor of their inmates, and given a meagre picture of Japanese life; or a study might have been made of the homes of the wealthy exclusively, which would have been equally one‐sided. It seemed to me, however, that a description of the homes of the middle classes, with occasional reference to those of the higher and lower types, would perhaps give a fairer picture of the character and structure of Japanese homes and houses, than had I pursued either of the other courses. I may have erred in looking through spectacles tinted with rose; but if so, I have no apology to make. Living for some time among a people with whom I have had only the most friendly relations, and to whom I still owe a thousand debts of gratitude, it would be only a contemptible and jaundiced temperament that could under such circumstances write otherwise than kindly, or fail to make generous allowance for what appear to others as grave faults and omissions.

In regard to Japanese houses, there are many features not to my liking; and in the ordinary language of travellers I might speak of these houses as huts and hovels, cold and cheerless, etc., and give such a generic description of them as would include under one category all the houses on the Pacific coast from Kamtchatka to Java. Faults these houses have; and in criticising them I have endeavored to make my reflections comparative; and I have held up for comparison much that is objectionable in our own houses, as well as the work done by our own artisans. But judging from the rage and disgust expressed in certain English publications, where one writer speaks of “much of the work for wage as positively despicable,” and another of the miseries entailed by the unscientific builder, my comparison may legitimately extend to England also.(3)

In the present volume the attempt has been made to describe the Japanese house and its immediate surroundings in general and in detail. No one realizes better than the author the meagreness in certain portions of this work. It is believed, however, that with the many illustrations, and the classification of the subject‐matter, much will be made clear that before was vague. The figures are in every case fac‐similes by one of the relief processes of the author’s pen‐and‐ink drawings, and with few exceptions are from his own sketches made on the spot; so that whatever they lack in artistic merit, they make up in being more or less accurate drawings of the objects and features depicted. The material has been gleaned from an illustrated daily journal, kept by the author during three successive residences in that delightful country, embracing travels by land from the northwest coast of Yezo to the southernmost parts of Satsuma.

The openness and accessibility of the Japanese house are a distinguishing feature of Japan; and no foreigner visits that country without bringing away delightful memories of the peculiarly characteristic dwellings of the Japanese. On the occasion of the author’s last visit to Japan he also visited China, Anam, Singapore, and Java, and made studies of the houses of these various countries, with special reference to the Japanese house and its possible affinities elsewhere.