University of Virginia Library

Kano Hogai, into whose mouth I put the following summary of Eastern life, was the greatest Japanese painter of recent times, a genius whose penetration to the heart of early oriental ideals seemed like special inspiration. He was for years one of my dearest friends, and in Japanese art my most valued teacher. I have represented him as the re-incarnate spirit of oriental art. His death in 1888 was a national calamity.

The ancient city of Nara, the capital of Japan in the eighth century, still glories in a grove of mighty pines and cedars which sweep away for a mile to the Eastern mountains, sheltering the dainty buildings of the great Shinto temple, Kásŭga. Wild streams have torn narrow beds through it. Venerable Buddhist monasteries flank it on the north. Archæologically, Nara is the treasure-house of Japan. There in the spring and summer of 1886 I spent with Hogai many weeks in delightful study.

These maidens of Kásŭga are consecrated to the service of the gods, and at intervals celebrate the symbolic dance called “Kagura.”

Hogai first visits the North Indian capital of the Scythian king, Kanishka, who about the beginning of the Christian era held the first Council of Northern Buddhism, whence the canon was later disseminated to Central and Eastern Asia. At this Cashmerian centre, in an outburst of creative fervor, the new ideals of a rich and profound faith, large enough in its plan to satisfy the spiritual needs of continent, were first adequately externalized in forms of Hellenic derivation. Many fine relics of this so-called Greco-Buddhist sculpture, including a haughty portrait statue of the Tartar Constantine himself, have been excavated, and are mostly preserved in the museum at Lahore.

Vasubandhu, the greatest follower of Nagarjuna, and one of the most important patriarchs in the line of esoteric transmission, was a man whose extraordinary spiritual and intellectual endowments enabled him largely to mould the subsequent course of Northern Buddhism, much as St. Paul did that of Christianity. He is the author of numerous works which remain to-day a corner-stone of Japanese Buddhism. It is not certain whether in old age he was present at the Northern Synod; but his spirit was doubtless dominant in the person of its president, his disciple Vasumitra. A portrait statue of Vasubandhu, preserved in Nara, shows us a face of enormous power.

When the Chinese pilgrim Hiouentsang visited these sacred seats in the seventh century, he found them already in pitiful ruin. The Greco-Buddhist relics which he brought to China became the germ of a lofty religious art throughout the Tang Dynasty, and in Corea and Japan during the eighth century. A trace of this Hellenic quality has never died out in the art of the latter country.

Hogai refers to Taitsong the Great, the second Emperor of Tang, through whose toleration Buddhism was to make rapid strides; and, speaking of himself as one of Kanishka's sculptors, he predicts his rebirth as Godoshi (Wutaotse), the greatest religious painter of Tang.

These are the titles of two degrees in Buddhist saintship. The Arhat, in Northern Buddhism, is one who has attained only subjective purification by withdrawing from the world. He bears marks of the severity of his ascetic discipline. A Bodhisattwa is one who, through the passion of divine love for men, has mingled with the evil of the world and overcome it, thus winning a leadership in the overshadowing army of the good. He is represented as of beautiful face and heavenly mien.

These are the four archangels militant, whose statues stand at the corner of every ancient altar. They are represented as stamping on evil in the form of a distorted imp. There can be little doubt that the military costume of these figures in early Chinese and Japanese examples is borrowed from the trappings of ancient Scythian generals. The finest specimens extant are at Kaidanin of Nara, modelled in clay, of life size, and dating from the commencement of the eighth century.

The art of the Tang Dynasty became strongest in religious painting. Symbolic figures of large size and mystic import were painted on the walls of temples in firm outline and rich color. Of these the Bodhisattwa Fudo, whose name signifies “The Unmoved,” was depicted as blue, and seated in the midst of orange flame. The colors, halos, flames, and clouds of such paintings, represent the spiritual aura, currents, and conditions generated by these lofty beings.

The highest creative power of Northern Buddhistic art was reached in early Japanese bronze sculpture, which clothes with the dignity and beauty of a Greek reminiscence the noblest suggestions of superhuman spiritual types. The finest remains are the colossal statues in the temple Yakushiji, near Nara, cast in the eighth century, of a metal which in color resembles polished ebony.

Hogai now expressly transfers the picture to his native Japan in a lament for its vanishing glory and innocence. I have tried in the following pages to realize something of the delicate charm and significance of Japanese life and art at their best. Here is a flavor so subtle as to elude direct expression. It was the perfect striking of an extreme note in the scale of human culture.

Well-known scenes of Japanese out-door life are referred to on this page. At the garden of Kameido, near Tokio, a wonderful trellis of low-hanging wistaria is thrown across a temple pool stocked with fish. The shrine is dedicated to the scholar Michizane, in whose worship the faithful cow has become a symbol.

One who has been admitted to the intimacy of Japanese households, regrets the untrustworthiness of some authorities who declare this people devoid of family life and affection.

This is the Bodhisattwa Kuannon, the beautiful female spirit of Providential Love, as represented in contemplation on a rock by the sea.

I refer to Amida. As the central blinding Splendor of the universe, he approximates to the Christian conception of God the Creator.

His Reverence the Archbishop Keitoku, of the Tendai sect at Miidera temple on Lake Biwa, I still look up to as my most inspired and devoutly liberal teacher in matters religious. Precious were the days and nights I had the privilege of spending with him in the vicinities of Kioto, Nara, and Nikko. He was a lofty living exemplar of the spiritual knighthood. He passed from the visible form in 1889.

Kukai, or Kobo Daishi, one of the three great founders of Esoteric Buddhism in Japan, spent many years of his youth in study at a famous Chinese monastery. About to return to his native country early in the ninth century, he meditated long concerning the site of his projected temple. Leaving the decision to the powers of heaven, he is said to have thrown his vagra, or metal mace, into the air in the direction of Japan, whither it was borne by divine means, and lodged in a tall tree on the top of Koya mountain. Here after his return it was found by the Daishi, and here he built the splendid monastery of Koyasan, which remains to this day the patriarchal seat of the Shingon sect in Japan.

The Archbishop Keitoku believed that the Western spirit was nearly ripe to receive the lofty doctrine which Eastern guardians have preserved for its precious legacy.