I. “Tasogare” (“Who-Is-there?” I. e. “Evening-Dusk”).
II. “Baikwa” (“Plum Flower”).
III. “Wakakusa” (“Young Grass”).
IV. (“Guest Incense”) “Yamaji-no-Tsuyu” (“Dew-on-the-Mountain-Path”).
To the Japanese original of the foregoing record were appended the
names of the players, the date of the entertainment, and the name of
the place where the party was held. It is the custom In some families
to enter all such records in a book especially made for the purpose,
and furnished with an index which enables the _Kō-kwai_ player to refer
immediately to any interesting fact belonging to the history of any
past game.
The reader will have noticed that the four kinds of incense used were
designated by very pretty names. The incense first mentioned, for
example, is called by the poets’ name for the gloaming,—_Tasogaré_
(lit: “Who is there?” or “ Who is it?”)—a word which in this relation
hints of the toilet-perfume that reveals some charming presence to the
lover waiting in the dusk. Perhaps some curiosity will be felt
regarding the composition of these incenses. I can give the Japanese
recipes for two sorts; but I have not been able to identify all of the
materials named:—
_Recipe for Yamaji-no-Tsuyu._
Ingredients Proportions.
about Jinkō (aloes-wood)
4 _mommé_
(½ oz.) Cōoji (cloves)
4 ”
” Kunroku
(olibanum)
4 ” ” Hakkō
(artemisia Schmidtiana)
4 ” ” Jakō
(musk)
1 _bu_ (⅛ oz.)
Kōkō(?)
4 _mommé_ (½
oz.)
_To 21 pastilles_
_Recipe for Baikwa._
Ingredients Proportions.
about Jinkō (aloes)
20 _mommé_
(2 1/2 oz.) Chōji
(cloves)
12 “ (1 1/2 oz.)
Kōkō(?)
8 1/3 “ (1
1/40 oz.) Byakudan
(sandal-wood)
4 “ (1/2 oz.)
Kanshō (spikenard)
2 _bu_
(1/4 oz.) Kwakkō
(Bishop’s-wort?) 1
_bu_ 2 _shu_ (3/16 oz.)
Kunroku (olibanum)
3 ” 3 ”
(15/22 oz.) Shōmokkō (?)
2 ”
(1/4 oz.) Jakō
(musk)
3 ” 2 _shu_ (7/16
oz.) Ryūnō (refined
Borneo Camphor) 3
_shu_ (3/8 oz.)
_To 50 pastilles_
The incense used at a _Kō-kwai_ ranges in value, according to the style
of the entertainment, from $2.50 to $30.00 per envelope of 100
wafers—wafers usually not more than one-fourth of an inch in diameter.
Sometimes an incense is used worth even more than $30.00 per envelope:
this contains _ranjatai_, an aromatic of which the perfume is compared
to that of “musk mingled with orchid-flowers.” But there is some
incense,—never sold,—which is much more precious than
_ranjatai_,—incense valued less for its composition than for its
history: I mean the incense brought centuries ago from China or from
India by the Buddhist missionaries, and presented to princes or to
other persons of high rank. Several ancient Japanese temples also
include such foreign incense among their treasures. And very rarely a
little of this priceless material is contributed to an
incense-party,—much as in Europe, on very extraordinary occasions, some
banquet is glorified by the production of a wine several hundred years
old.
Like the tea-ceremonies, the _Kō-kwai_ exact observance of a very
complex and ancient etiquette. But this subject could interest few
readers; and I shall only mention some of the rules regarding
preparations and precautions. First of all, it is required that the
person invited to an incense-party shall attend the same in as
_odorless_ a condition as possible: a lady, for instance, must not use
hair-oil, or put on any dress that has been kept in a perfumed
chest-of-drawers. Furthermore, the guest should prepare for the contest
by taking a prolonged hot bath, and should eat only the lightest and
least odorous kind of food before going to the rendezvous. It is
forbidden to leave the room during the game, or to open any door or
window, or to indulge in needless conversation. Finally I may observe
that, while judging the incense, a player is expected to take not less
than three inhalations, or more than five.
In this economical era, the _Kō-kwai_ takes of necessity a much humbler
form than it assumed in the time of the great daimyō, of the princely
abbots, and of the military aristocracy. A full set of the utensils
required for the game can now be had for about $50.00; but the
materials are of the poorest kind. The old-fashioned sets were
fantastically expensive. Some were worth thousands of dollars. The
incense-burner’s desk,—the writing-box, paper-box, tablet-box,
etc.,—the various stands or _dai_,—were of the costliest
gold-lacquer;—the pincers and other instruments were of gold, curiously
worked;—and the censer—whether of precious metal, bronze, or
porcelain,—was always a _chef-d’œuvre_, designed by some artist of
renown.
V
Although the original signification of incense in Buddhist ceremonies
was chiefly symbolical, there is good reason to suppose that various
beliefs older than Buddhism,—some, perhaps, peculiar to the race;
others probably of Chinese or Korean derivation,—began at an early
period to influence the popular use of incense in Japan. Incense is
still burned in the presence of a corpse with the idea that its
fragrance shields both corpse and newly-parted soul from malevolent
demons; and by the peasants it is often burned also to drive away
goblins and the evil powers presiding over diseases. But formerly it
was used to summon spirits as well as to banish them. Allusions to its
employment in various weird rites may be found in some of the old
dramas and romances. One particular sort of incense, imported from
China, was said to have the power of calling up human spirits. This was
the wizard-incense referred to in such ancient love-songs as the
following:—
“I have heard of the magical incense that summons the souls of the
absent:
Would I had some to burn, in the nights when I wait alone!”
There is an interesting mention of this incense in the Chinese book,
_Shang-hai-king_. It was called _Fwan-hwan-hiang_ (by Japanese
pronunciation, _Hangon-kō_), or “Spirit-Recalling-Incense;” and it was
made in Tso-Chau, or the District of the Ancestors, situated by the
Eastern Sea. To summon the ghost of any dead person—or even that of a
living person, according to some authorities,—it was only necessary to
kindle some of the incense, and to pronounce certain words, while
keeping the mind fixed upon the memory of that person. Then, in the
smoke of the incense, the remembered face and form would appear.
[Illustration: The Magical Incense]
In many old Japanese and Chinese books mention is made of a famous
story about this incense,—a story of the Chinese Emperor Wu, of the Han
dynasty. When the Emperor had lost his beautiful favorite, the Lady Li,
he sorrowed so much that fears were entertained for his reason. But all
efforts made to divert his mind from the thought of her proved
unavailing. One day he ordered some Spirit-Recalling-Incense to be
procured, that he might summon her from the dead. His counsellors
prayed him to forego his purpose, declaring that the vision could only
intensify his grief. But he gave no heed to their advice, and himself
performed the rite,—kindling the incense, and keeping his mind fixed
upon the memory of the Lady Li. Presently, within the thick blue smoke
arising from the incense, the outline, of a feminine form became
visible. It defined, took tints of life, slowly became luminous, and
the Emperor recognized the form of his beloved At first the apparition
was faint; but it soon became distinct as a living person, and seemed
with each moment to grow more beautiful. The Emperor whispered to the
vision, but received no answer. He called aloud, and the presence made
no sign. Then unable to control himself, he approached the censer. But
the instant that he touched the smoke, the phantom trembled and
vanished.
Japanese artists are still occasionally inspired by the legends of the
Hangon-ho. Only last year, in Tōkyō, at an exhibition of new kakemono,
I saw a picture of a young wife kneeling before an alcove wherein the
smoke of the magical incense was shaping the shadow of the absent
husband.[6]
[6] Among the curious Tōkyō inventions of 1898 was a new variety of
cigarettes called _Hangon-sō_, or “Herb of Hangon,”—a name suggesting
that their smoke operated like the spirit-summoning incense. As a
matter of fact, the chemical action of the tobacco-smoke would define,
upon a paper fitted into the mouth-piece of each cigarette, the
photographic image of a dancing-girl.
Although the power of making visible the forms of the dead has been
claimed for one sort of incense only, the burning of any kind of
incense is supposed to summon viewless spirits in multitude. These come
to devour the smoke. They are called _Jiki-kō-ki_, or “incense-eating
goblins;” and they belong to the fourteenth of the thirty-six classes
of Gaki (_prêtas_) recognized by Japanese Buddhism. They are the ghosts
of men who anciently, for the sake of gain, made or sold bad incense;
and by the evil karma of that action they now find themselves in the
state of hunger-suffering spirits, and compelled to seek their only
food in the smoke of incense.