of Hearn’s about his birth, was, I believe, a mistake. Hearn’s words
had made me love the child--but he isn’t a child any longer, and is
now a thin lanky youth, shy of manner and slow in English speech. But
perhaps--for there is promise in his face--I shall like him well as
a man in the years to come. How Hearn wove words into an opalescent
cobweb! I could imagine him feeling intoxicated with the beauty of
words--nay, he must have been, for as a reader I am intoxicated by
words of his, which must have affected him a thousand times more
strongly.
=December 16.=--It has been blowing a perfect hurricane, and is blowing
still, so that I panted on my cycle to the University, but enjoyed the
ride back, for by a most unusual chance the wind didn’t turn and face
me on my home way also, as it generally does, but stopped respectfully
behind me and blew me gaily at full speed up hills which always make
me dismount on usual days. The sky was brilliantly clear, and Mount
Fuji shone blue-and-white in the morning, and purple-black in front of
a copper-and-gold sky at night. Wonderful mountain! “The only thing in
Japan that is not overrated,” as some one told me he felt it was.
=December 20.=--Writing all the early part of the day, but went along
to tea with the D----’s and met Ambassador O----. We had a cosy time;
in the course of conversation the Ambassador told me to listen,--and
then said that it was not necessarily the _cleverest_ people who made
the most mark in the world, but the people who wrote what they knew,
who gave to the world of their knowledge, instead of letting it die
with them, as so many of the truly great have done. The D----’s house
is peculiarly charming--it is not, of course, a “salon” in any sense of
the word, but more there than anywhere I know people really converse
and sometimes say things that the Autocrat of the Breakfast Table
might pop straight into his book. Though what they actually are I
cannot record, the after effect is much the same as reading a chapter
of a light, well-written book.
And the rooms too are so pretty, a charming mixture of Japanese and
Western daintiness, like a black-eyed rosy-cheeked Eurasian, who
sparkles with the beauty of both the parent countries.
=December 21.=--I worked hard all day. Professor _F----_ is back and we
got quite a lot done. In the evening I went to some pretty tableau from
_Pride and Prejudice_, arranged by a number of people I know, and at 10
went into the Opera House, where I met a party of friends. This Opera
House merits a word of description. As in the newspaper it said--“For
the first time we in Tokio can sit in a foreign theatre, listen to a
foreign orchestra, and see a foreign play played by foreigners all at
one time.” The theatre, or Opera House, built partly on the Vienna
model, was opened only a few days ago, and is now playing _Dorothy_,
by amateurs, but many of them have professional talent and training.
The white-and-gilt interior, the brilliant lights without, and the
real “home” effect of the piece were delightful after all these months
without the possibility of anything of the sort. To permanent residents
here it will be a very great boon, and is already patronised by all
the Legations and many of the best Japanese. Outside were panting
motors, and--I discovered that the smell of petrol is delightful in its
reminder of home!
=December 23.=--I learn that last evening the D----’s house was burnt
to the ground! That pretty house I liked so much! I am indeed grieved.
The danger of the houses, which are all wood, is very great here. I
have been in Japan about eighteen months, and in that time the Naval
Attachés of both the British and American Embassies have been utterly
burnt out. If a Japanese house goes, only one or two of the curios
which are in use will be destroyed, the rest are safe in a “go-down,”
but in a foreign house all the curios are about and in use, and a fire
sweeps the whole away. How extravagant we foreigners are!
=December 24.=--I went up to the University intending to have a day’s
quiet work--but at 9.30 Mrs. _M----_ (one of the family who gave the
gas-engine) brought her sons to see the fossils being cut. Not much
was done before lunch, when Dr. _Mk----_ was there. Soon after that
the Dean came, and made a delightful stay, and we had just finished
tea with him when the President, Baron _H----_, came and wanted to see
some fossils, so we showed him some of the prettier ones under the
microscope. I am glad he came and really saw the things. So that, after
all, the Christmas eve I had expected to work through became a series
of “parties” all the time, and I enjoyed it more than I had expected
to, though I worked less.
=December 26.=--I got to the University at 9.30, though this same morn
I crept into bed at 1 A.M. Work did not seem very exciting,
but it was soon laid on one side, for the Dean came again. This time
in an official capacity, bearing a huge box tied up nicely. This he
solemnly opened up, and we found another box inside tied with broad
green silk cord, which when opened revealed cotton-wool and yellow
wrappings, which when removed gave place to squares of heavy rich white
silk brocade, which were wrapped round the most wonderful blue-grey
silver cloisonné vases--not the ordinary, but the special, new, rare
and precious kind, made with very few silver wires, so that the
colours melt into each other, and it looks like Markazu or Copenhagen
porcelain. Far more than half are marred in the manufacture, so that a
perfect pair are gems. These two of mine (for now I am the proud owner
of them) are as beautiful as can be, on little carved ebony stands.
Only far too beautiful for me. They are an official present from the
University, in “recognition of the stimulus I have been to botany in
Japan!”
I went round to call on Baron _H----_ (the President) on my way back
home, to say my few halting words of thanks--but what can one say on
such occasions, when, moreover, the present should come _from_ me,
who have accepted their hospitality so long? But they, out of their
goodness of heart or courtesy, reverse everything, and profess to be
indebted to me! I cannot cope with it at all.
=December 27.=--Time is now so precious, and the College will be shut
for the New Year very soon, so I went to the laboratory to-day and
worked till nearly 4 o’clock. A miserable wet day, with the streets
ankle deep in slush. The pines and bamboos of the New Year are
beginning to appear before the doors, and at the corners are stalls
which sell the knotted rope festoons which every house will have over
its gate. But the weather has a depressing effect to-day, and lanterns
and gay street stalls are few and far between.
=December 28.=--A bright sunny day, but the roads are just unspeakable.
My bicycle got quite blocked up a dozen times, so that the space
between the mud-guard and the tyre was filled tight from top to bottom.
Hard at work at the Institute all day, for this is the last day before
we are locked out for the New Year’s holiday.
=December 29.=--The Institute was quite locked up to-day, not even the
attendant coming, but as we are so hard pressed I got permission to go
and the garden porter unlocked the door for me, and let me into the
cold echoing building. I was dripping wet and very cross at coming in
the rain, no one who could possibly arrange otherwise would ever go out
in the rain in Tokio. The old man brought me a little fire of charcoal,
which started the stove, and then left me all alone in the place,
where the only sound was the rain dripping and the scratching of an
occasional rat, which made me think robbers had come to the place when
the whole responsibility lay on me. After an hour I heard soft stealthy
footsteps, and stood prepared to pounce on the unlawful intruder--when
there was a knock at the door and in walked the Dean. He came nominally
about the farewell party the University Union is getting up for me,
but I expect it was also semi-official, as to have the place open was
rather an anxiety, I fear. His stealthiness was the result of the
rain, for he came in rubbers!
Later on Professor _F----_ came, and we got on well with the work,
because there were none of the usual disturbing demands of the other
workers in the Institute. On the way home it was forced in upon me that
life was not worth living in Tokio when it rained.
[Illustration: THE BOTANICAL GARDENS IN WINTER DRESS. A GROUP OF CYCADS
PROTECTED AGAINST SNOW]
=December 30.=--At work again in the locked Institute, but the sun
shone and we were consequently more cheerful.
=December 31.=--As it is the day before the New Year, Professor _F----_
is too busy to work, so I brought home my microscope and some fossils
to do here, and had a nice quiet day at home. The days before the New
Year are the busiest of the whole three hundred and sixty-five for
every Japanese. In the evening Flora and I went down to the _Ginza_ to
see the big _Matsuri_ and buy what took our fancy, provided our purses
were large enough. This _Ginza Matsuri_ is one of the features of Tokio
this time of the year, and is particularly attractive on the last night
of the year. The pavements on both sides of the streets are thronged
with people, and lined with mats on the kerb, covered with curios and
oddments and modern articles of all kinds. The pavement spaces are
marked off and numbered, and let out by the police long before. As
every one _must_ pay all his debts by the end of the year, lots of
curios go cheaper then than at any other time--though great bargains
are not to be had in Tokio any more, too many foreigners have visited
it. It was entertaining to watch the crowds, and lots of the curios
were very nice. Gold screens I should love--but their size would make
them terrible to pack for the journey. Fortunately the rain held off
to-night, else many a poor person would suffer for his debts!
=January 1, 1909.=--A bright sunny day for the New Year. This year I
did not enter at all into the national customs, but went for a walk
with Flora to see her school, the Convent of which, I think, I have
spoken before. The new grounds they now have are very extensive and
beautiful--how delicious the reality of country one can get in Tokio!
It is possible in their garden to feel miles from any habitation and
in the midst of woodland. When we returned I found I had missed an
event--a visit from the Dean in his Court uniform, cocked-feathered
hat, gold lace, sword and all. He had much impressed my maid,--alas,
that I should have missed the great sight of a University Professor in
the panoply of state! All the higher Government officials must go to
the palace (unless ill) and pay their respects to the Emperor on the
morning of the New Year, after which they make a tour of calls on each
other. In the evening I dined with the _F----s_; we were a merry party
and danced till late.
=January 5.=--A national holiday, so work was once more impossible;
instead, we went down to see the sea at Enoshima. I had great hopes
that the cone of Fuji mountain would show above the coast over the
water. It is one of the loveliest views of Fuji, and I have never yet
seen it. The day was fine, but not clear enough for that, however.
Enoshima island, reached by the long bridge from the sandy shore, has
often been described, so there is no need to reiterate its beauties.
It was a solemnly lovely day--not a glowing one, and the line of black
foreground on the opposite coast, overtopped by fainter and fainter
jagged ridges of hills, had the beauty of an old Japanese master. Alas,
that the jewel of it all, Mount Fuji, was not to be seen. In all the
eighteen months here I have never yet seen the cone above the coast
hills from the sea, which is the most lovely view of all, they say, and
this is my last chance. After buying a few strings of shells from the
countless stores on the little island, and watching a naked brown man
dive into the deep waves and come up with a living fish in his hand,
which he presented to me, and doing all the other things essential to
be done in Enoshima, we returned to the mainland, and as we had half an
hour to wait I insisted on going up an attractive-looking hill. It was
a Temple hill, with beauty and solitude for its crown, and such a view
as I shall never forget of rocky coast and grey villages, of the sea
with its jewel islands, and of the wave-like crested hills, a grey and
black and purple view, with a dull green foreground and an atmosphere
of mystery. Tokio! most favoured city, to have such a coast so very
near. What we miss in London!
=January 6–8.=--Working hard, morning, noon, and night, with packing of
fossils and books, and household goods thrown in.
=January 9.=--At work all day at the Institute; in the late afternoon
a call at the Embassy about the official thanks to the Japanese, then
on to Miss C---- about the next Debate, and, finally, a scamper to
dress for dinner at Mrs. W----’s. When dressed it was too late to do
anything but cycle there, but half-way on my road it began to snow! We
had a very jolly dinner, and I felt increasingly affectionate towards
Tokio, the people were all so kind. The snow had stopped, so I cycled
back, though it lay thick on the ground, and it came on again before
I got home, but a chiffon scarf protects one wonderfully from snow,
and it was so pretty riding through it, instead of being cooped up in
a _kuruma_, with danger of the men falling and breaking one’s neck.
_Kurumas_ aren’t at all safe in snowy weather, and are bitterly cold.
=January 10.=--The snow must have fallen nearly all the night, for
it lay deep this morning. Soon after 10 it became bright and clear,
and I set off to see the temples in Shiba Park. Very few people were
about, and in the park just a stray poet or two and a photographer. I
climbed one of the hills in it, and before me lay the sea, beneath the
snow-clad trees and temple roofs. I turned, and scarlet through the
festoons of gleaming white glowed the fretwork of a pagoda. Up and down
little hills I wandered, the great trees standing free as in a forest,
and the ground, as in a forest, trellised with big roots. The snow hid
the low bamboos and gave the whole hilly landscape such a look that one
needed no imagination to fancy oneself in a distant mountain forest,
till the curved roof and crimson sides of a temple showed between the
trees. In absolute solitude I walked, on untrodden snow, with no sight
or sound of man--round me the musical clouds of snow that fell as the
wind swayed the boughs of the tall cryptomerias above my head. And this
is the heart of a capital city, Tokio, queen of cities. The long line
of stone lanterns, the crimson bridge, the temples and trees, as well
as the forest beauty, were rendered indescribably lovely by this snow.
A friend was to have come with me to see the temples, and the snow
prevented him--poor foolish man! But I am glad I was there alone.
=January 11.=--A brilliant, clear day. I was at work all the morning.
In the afternoon was the party at the Nobles Club, given as a farewell
for me by the London University Union. Quite a lot of people came, and
I was transfixed in the middle of it all by a presentation from Baron
_K----_, in the name of the Union, of three lovely gold lacquer boxes.
Gold lacquer! A thing I have longed to possess, and a gift as well as
a party from the dear Union, which I never dreamed would notice my
departure.
It was not a little overwhelming, and I had to make a speech of thanks,
and bungled it, of course.
Most of the fifty or so people who came to the party were my friends,
guests of the Union, and one of them, as she said “Good-bye,” said to
me also “Thank you.” I answered, of course, “Oh, you mustn’t thank
_me_, I did not give the party.” “Well, then,” she said hurriedly,
“thank you for going away.” My raised eyebrows and appealing eyes
perhaps made her add, as she did going out of the door, “so that we can
have a party.” She was not a humorist, but one of those dear, solemn
people who take life seriously.
This party and the beautiful gift has touched me deeply; all the
members of the Union contributed, English and Japanese alike.
=January 14.=--The last lunch at the Goten, I expect, for next week
will certainly be busy. These Faculty lunches have certainly been very
pleasant, and I am sorry they are coming to an end, like many another
thing in this country for me. More P.P.C. calls in the afternoon. As
I returned in the dark I met more than one man running with tinkling
bell, clad in only a white cotton kimono. I have noticed several such
quaint folk lately, and Professor _F----_ told me that in the coldest
season a number of people will do this. It is a kind of remnant of the
old “hardening” processes of Bushido, when children were sent barefoot
and hungry across the snow, or sent supper-less to bed. None of those I
saw running looked very robust, and I wondered whether such spasmodic
hardening as a run on a cold winter’s night, practically naked, might
not defeat its own ends. It looks on the face of it as though daily
hardening might be more effective, in which case these same youths
could discard the thick woollen mufflers they wear over mouths and ears
and noses as they go out in the sunny streets.
=January 17.=--At 1 o’clock I sallied forth with a long calling list.
Fortunately, one can call early on Japanese ladies. Baron and Baroness
_H----_ were both in, and very gracious. It is difficult to say
“good-bye.”
There were several other short calls, and then my last visit to the
_S----s’_ pretty house, from which I saw the beautiful garden for the
last time.
Afterwards I went to see the grey lady, Mrs. _N----_. Four-year-old
Brownie remembered me and welcomed me in, doing the honours of the
house and showing me all his toys. The grey lady is revealing herself
a little--I am sorry I must go, and so will not see her again; people
who really interest one are not too many on this earth. She started
life as a scientist, but found chemistry so easy that it was no mental
discipline, so she took to history, where dates have no reasons and
are therefore hard to remember, but here, too, she came out top of the
classes. She lies behind the poetry of that Japanese poet who wrote in
English, and was so praised by Rossetti, the _N----_ of American fame,
if I am not much mistaken, though she does not tell one so consciously.
=January 18.=--A long day at the Institute working and packing,
and then to the _M----s’_ to dinner. The house is being re-done
up, and some of the rooms are now very charming. Mr. _M----_, Mrs.
_M----_, Mrs. _H----_, and several others were there, and the dinner
was pleasant, but afterwards the treat came. When we went into the
drawing-room I noticed a tray with lots and lots of white vases and
cups and plates, and wondered what they were for. They told us almost
at once. They had a great porcelain-maker there, and on the stone
verandah were set up the furnaces and ovens and attendants, and we were
to paint the porcelain, and it would be baked and glazed and finished
before our eyes that evening! What it is to be a millionaire, and how
much more to be one who could devise such charming pleasures. We all
set to work gaily, the sons and little girl came in, and we had a
very merry time. The quality of our painting doubtless left something
to be desired, but we did not think of that till after, and really
some of them were pretty, even the next day. The baking was the great
excitement. The little furnaces were surrounded by glowing charcoal,
fanned by the white-clad potters till a cloud of sparks rose over the
fiery clay. We were half shut in in the verandah, but could see between
the fires the snowy garden. The heat was so great that we rushed in
and out of the drawing-room with no thought of cold, and multiplied
our pots and vases rapidly. The time flew too swiftly, and I had to
leave many still to be baked and to be seen to-morrow. This, too, was a
farewell party for me, and the kindness and grace of my hostess made it
a very pleasant one.
=January 19.=--Called at 9.30 at the _M----s’_, just to see the
exhibition of our last night’s pottery-making, and found a big show,
only one piece having been broken in the baking, which seems very good
for furnaces erected in a private house. I had to hurry away to the
Institute, for every moment is now urgently needed for my scientific
work, and, fortunately, got on pretty well with it to-day.
=January 22.= A busy day--calls on the way home and a dinner at the
P----s’, where I am now going to stop the two nights till I leave, as
my house must get packed up and sold up. Professor _S----_ came to
dinner, and the F----s. Professor P---- has only been back a few days
from London by Siberia, and had home news. After the guests left at
11.30 I went over to my house, took off my evening frock, and prepared
for a night’s work. There was no help for it--packing, letters, P.P.C.
cards, and a hundred things had to be done, and still there was work
at the Institute. The night flew by, with cocoa and cake at 3.30, and
after breakfast I went to the Institute to finish up things there. A
few calls had to be paid on the way back, so much kindness from so many
friends necessitates calling. After dinner I was approaching insanity
over the folly of the men who were padlocking my trunks.
=January 24.=--The P----s were very good, and let me wake them up at
6.30; then there were a few little things to do, a look round mine own
little house, all empty and forlorn, and we set off for the station.
As I left at 8.20 on Sunday morning I never expected any one to see me
off, except perhaps one or two special friends, but there was quite a
big crowd of kindly folk, the _M----s_ with lovely flowers from their
greenhouse, and all with good wishes. Why I didn’t break down and howl
on the platform I don’t know. Professor _S----_, Professor _F----_, Dr.
_M----_, Dr. _H----_, and my maid came to Yokohama to the boat with
me, where they cheered me till it started by photographing the party in
groups and writing picture post cards, and walking round the deck with
me one at a time in friendly converse.
Then, just before we sailed, I saw a gleam of what looked like Fuji
mountain. Was she going to forget her cruelty and coyness and show
herself to me over the water at last, at the latest possible moment?
But the clouds closed again, the tender took my last friends from me,
the ladder was up, and we steamed away as the bell sounded for lunch.
Then after it I went on deck, and before me lay a wonderful panorama,
near rocky coast, pine-crested, then beyond a dark line of more distant
woods and bays, and in the midst, perfect, peerless, cloudless, the
cone of the snow-white Fuji mountain!
I gazed and gazed for an hour at the changing view of ever lovely coast
and ever lovely mountain!
Round the mountain top light clouds collected and dispersed like flying
veils; one rose from the crater and dissolved like a puff of smoke,
some circled the base and shut off the crown from the black fringing
trees below.
So, as I left Japan, her greatest beauty showed herself to me.
CONCLUSION
Innumerable times have I made believe to answer the question, “How do
you like the Japanese?” or the even more impossible one, “What do you
think of the Japanese?” Questions generally put by new acquaintances
directly after introduction, in crowded drawing-rooms, where we were
liable to be torn apart at any moment, and the qualifying clauses which
would have followed a preliminary statement to be separated eternally
from their principals, which cut but a poor figure without them. I
soon found that in common justice I must avoid answering that query.
Yet now, at the conclusion of this journal, when there is no escape,
the question presents itself once more. A complete answer even here is
impossible. Those who have read the foregoing pages will have already
the key to much of the answer. But often they were smaller and more
subtle things than could be recorded in this journal that built up the
real impressions of the country.