Illustrations of Japan/Part 1

The Daïris, or spiritual heads of Japan, were the first sovereigns of the country, over which they ruled with absolute power, till towards the conclusion of the 12th century, (1185) when Yori-tomo was elected commander-in-chief of the empire, and afterwards (in 1192,) Zi-i-daï-Djogoun. Their authority which then suffered a powerful shock, kept gradually declining under the Djogouns who succeeded Yori-tomo, till at length it received its death-blow during the reign of Yeye-yasou, or Gongin-sama, the first Djogoun of the present dynasty.

The Daïri is yet considered as the sovereign of the empire, but this is only an empty compliment: his influence in temporals is next to none, so that the supreme power is really vested in the Djogoun. The consent of the Daïri, however, is still requisite in all affairs of importance, and in such cases the ordinances are published in his name: he rarely withholds it; so rarely indeed that I could hear of no more than one instance of the kind, which occurred when it was in agitation to confer the title of Kouambak on Fide-fada, son of Gongin. The Daïri, convinced that any attempt to disturb the present dynasty in the possession of the sovereign authority would prove vain, seems to content himself with the respect and deference which the Djogoun pays him from policy, and which that prince, if he be wise, will never refuse him; ​for the enmity of the spiritual head of the empire might, if not overturn the throne, at least excite the greatest discord in the state.

The dynasties of the Djogouns are comprised under the denomination of Tenka-no-si-goun, or Soso-no-si-goun^[1]. They are four in number, namely:

1. That of Yori-tomo.
2. That of Faka-ousi.
3. That of Fide-yosi, or Taïko.
4. That of Yeye-yasou, or Gongin.

Faka-ousi was of the family of Yosi-ye, who was descended from Seïwa-ten-o, the 56th Daïri. He divided the supreme power between his two sons, Yosi-nori and Moto-ousi, giving to each the government of thirty-three provinces. The latter, who ruled over the eastern part, was styled Kamakoura-no-Djogoun, and kept his court at Kamakoura, in the province of Fagami. Yosi-nori, to whom were allotted the western provinces, resided at Miyako, with the title of Tchoko-no-Djogoun.

Faka-ousi, in dividing the empire between his two sons, was influenced by the expectation that in case either of them should be attacked, his brother would afford him assistance. This partition on the contrary only served to arm them one against the other; the country was involved in continual war, and the princes, though brothers, were engaged in frequent hostilities, which terminated only with the destruction of the branch of Miyako.

Nobou-naga, of the family of Feïke, was killed by Akedje-mitsou-fide, who designed to usurp the throne and the authority of Djogoun. A few days after the murder, however, he himself perished, and his death occasioned the proverb: Akedje-no-tenka-mika—“Akedje reigned but three days;” which is employed in reference to any thing that has lasted a very short time.

After the death of Nobou-naga, his grandson Sinfosi, son of Nobou-fada, was ​chosen to succeed him. The relatives and friends of the late Djogoun divided among themselves the government of the provinces. Nabouko, the uncle of the young prince, to whose share fell the province of Ovari, was invested with the administration of affairs during his minority. The other persons who had obtained provinces went to take possession of them, and Fide-yosi alone remained at Miyako. After gaining several victories in the wars which then devastated the empire, he assumed the title of Djogoun in the 13th year of Tendjo, (1585).

The annals of the Daïris furnish no particulars respecting the origin of this prince, and, as he had not any known surname, that of Toyo-tomi was given to him. Some writers assert that his family belonged to the lowest class of society; others, on the contrary, attribute to him a more distinguished birth. The statement of the latter is as follows: The Yinnagon Motche-fagi, an officer of the Daïri’s, being accused of a crime which he had not committed, was exiled to Ovari. He there became enamoured of a female, by whom he had a son, who received at his birth the name of Fi-yosi-marou. The father’s innocence being meanwhile discovered, he was recalled to Miyako, where his family resided, and reinstated in his post. His mistress, whom he had been obliged to leave at Ovari, sunk after his departure into indigence, and had no other means of supporting herself and her child, than to marry a labourer named Nakamouro-yayemon, who took care of the boy, and brought him up under his own inspection. After the death of Yayemon, his widow gave her hand to Tiekou-ami, a physician.

The son of Motche-fagi, having attained the age of twenty years, entered into the household of Matsou-sita-kafesi, an officer of the Djogoun, as slipper-bearer. He was next in the service of Nobou-nara, who was still only prince of Ovari; and it was then that he assumed the name of Fide-yosi. Such was the attachment that he manifested to his new master, and so numerous the proofs that he gave of prudence and valour^[2], that Nobou-naga, on becoming Djogoun, raised him to the most exalted military dignities.

​After the death of that prince, Fide-yosi seized the reins of government, and as soon as his adopted son was elected Kouambak, he took the title of Taïko. In person he was extremely short, being scarcely fifty inches high, and had round eyes like those of monkeys, which caused him to be surnamed Saroutsoura, or monkey’s face.

In another manuscript I find an account differing from the above; it is as follows: Fide-yosi had married Kita-no-marou-dono, daughter of the nurse to the prince of Kaga. He was then so poor that he had not even a sagaraki yaki, or common earthen pot for drinking zakki with his bride. Fide-yosi first entered into the service of Matsou-sita-kafesi, who held a post equivalent to that of governor of Nangasaki. On leaving that officer, he enlisted under the banners of Nobou-naga, and by his great bravery and brilliant exploits, won the favour of that prince to such a degree, as to be invested by him with the command of the army.

These two accounts, though differing in substance, yet concur in proving that Fide-yosi owed his elevation to his personal merit, and the favour of Nobou-naga.

At the age of forty, Fide-yosi fell in love with Yodo-dono, daughter of Aza-i-bizen-no-kami-naga-masa, who had manifested an inveterate enmity against Nobou-naga, and who, being at length vanquished in the 8th month of the first year of Tendjo (1573,) put an end to his life, as did also his father Simotske-no-kami-fisa-masa. Nobou-naga, having confiscated his mansion of Odani, committed it to the care of Fide-yosi; and this circumstance afforded him occasion to see Yodo-dono, a female, who seems to have possessed far stronger claims to admiration for beauty and understanding, than for purity of manners. Some writers assert that he married her, others that he merely lived with her, but without making her his wife. Be this as it may, he continued stedfastly attached to her, and she bore him in his old age a son, who was named Fide-yori. Death had previously deprived him of another son, for whom he had a strong affection.

Tchoan, in his work intituled Dou-gouaï-den, states that the character and conduct of Yodo-dono were highly equivocal, and thence concludes that it is very uncertain whether Fide-yori had a rignt to call Taïko his father. This assertion is unfounded, and had no other motive than to diminish the odium of the ​usurpation of Gongin, who dethroned Fide-yori. Upon the whole, that work is a tissue of falsehoods, and unworthy of confidence.

It appears certain, however, that after the death of Taïko, Yodo-dono became the mistress of an officer of Fide-yori’s household, named Ono-souri-farou-naga. This man, devoid of feeling, and of licentious manners, had no other merit than his external accomplishments. Yodo-dono, on the contrary, possessed a courage worthy of her high fortune: her fortitude and the wisdom of her counsels were of great benefit to her son in his wars with Gongin. The latter, therefore, hated her with implacable animosity; and after the capture of the castle of Osaka, he carried her with him to Yedo, where she is said to have put an end to her life.

I shall not enter into a detail of the events that established Gongin on the throne, for which the reader may consult the work of Father Crasset, who has omitted no important fact. The following brief account will be sufficient for my purpose:

Fide-yosi, before he had any child of his own, adopted one, as I have already observed. This was his nephew, Fide-tsougou, the son of his younger brother, Fide-naga. This young prince, of a cruel and ferocious disposition, caused the old, the blind, and the infirm, who fell in his way, to be put to death, saying that they were fit for nothing in this world. He committed other atrocities recorded by Father Crasset^[3]. Taïko, indignant at his cruelty, confined him in the temple of Koyosan, where he killed himself, together with his attendants.

Taïko perceiving his end approaching, thought it right to take measures for securing the throne to his son Fide-yori, then but six years old. He could devise no better expedient than to connect himself closely with Yeye-yasou, the most powerful of the princes of the empire. With this view, during the illness which terminated his life, he affianced his son to Yeye-yasou’s granddaughter, an infant only two years of age. He appointed Yeye-yasou guardian to Fide-yori, after exacting from him a solemn oath, signed with his blood, that as soon as the prince should attain his fifteenth year, he would recognise and cause him to be acknowledged as Djogoun. Satisfied with these ​precautions, Taïko relinquished the government to Yeye-yasou and five of his principal favourites, and expired on the 18th of the eighth month, of the third year Kei-djo (1598), at the age of sixty-three.

After the death of Taïko, discord soon sprung up among the governors, and led to intestine broils and civil wars. Yeye-yasou, who had long aspired to the supreme power, took care to foment these disturbances, but disguised his intentions, till, finding his authority sufficiently established, he threw off the mask, attacked Fide-yori upon plausible pretexts, and besieged him in his castle of Osaka. Peace was indeed concluded, through the mediation of the Daïri, but it was of short duration. Hostilities recommenced with greater violence than ever, and the issue of them may be seen in the above-mentioned work of Father Crasset^[4]. The particulars respecting them contained in the letters of the Dutch Company’s agents in Japan, though curious, with reference to the commerce of that time, are not of sufficient interest for further notice here.

Gongin, having become master of the empire, by the defeat of Fide-yori and his partisans, thought of nothing but the means of securing to himself the supreme power for ever. As there were many persons at the court of the Daïri who espoused the cause of Fide-yori, and as it was of the utmost consequence to the usurper to keep that court in absolute dependence, he persuaded the Daïri to appoint two of his sons high-priests, one in the temple of Niko, and the other in that of Ouyeno at Yedo. He thus relieved himself from all apprehension of the Daïri, whom he could have immediately displaced, to make room for one of his sons, had he ventured to attempt any thing against his usurped authority.

Being now easy upon this head, Gongin adopted such wise regulations, that the country, too long torn by civil broils, was restored to the blessings of profound peace; and opportunity was afforded for laying the foundations of that prosperity which it still enjoys.

At this period terminate the Nipon-o-daï-tche-lan, or Annals of the Daïris. Since the accession of Gongin, the printing of any work relative to the government has been prohibited. The curious, however, possess manuscript accounts of all the remarkable events that have occurred under the different princes of the ​present dynasty. These manuscripts are in great request. The conduct of persons of elevated rank is sometimes as freely censured in them, as it could be in any country in Europe. The obstructions which the government throws in the way of the publication of historical works, prevent these works from being known, and thus obviate whatever might make an obnoxious impression on the minds of the people, and endanger the interests of the reigning dynasty, as well as the tranquillity of the empire. From some of these manuscripts are extracted the particulars here submitted to the public. The Japanese, to whom they belong, keep them cautiously concealed, so that it is difficult to procure a sight of them. If I was fortunate enough to obtain the communication of those from which I have extracted such curious notes, I am indebted for it to the ardent zeal with which my friends assisted me in all my researches. I cannot adequately express my gratitude to them for this service, and for all the other acts of kindness, which they never ceased to lavish upon me during the five years that I resided among them.

I have thought it superfluous to dwell upon what concerns the government, which has but little interest for foreigners, since the empire has enjoyed profound peace. I have, therefore, introduced only so much of these matters as was calculated to make the reader better acquainted with the way of thinking and acting of these people, respecting which Europeans have but very imperfect notions. For this reason I have translated as literally as possible what I have extracted from original works.

Minamotto-no-Yeye-Yasou was the son of Zo-ou-Daïnagon-firo-fada: his mother, Dentsou-in-den, was the daughter of Misou-no-ouyemon-no-dayou-fada-masa: he traced his descent from Seïva-ten-o, the 56th Daïri. Before he mounted the throne he was prince of Okasaki.

Yeye-Yasou had twelve children, the second of whom, Nobou-yasou, was a young prince of excellent qualities. He incurred the displeasure of his father, who, instigated by false accusations, ordered him to rip up his belly. His ​innocence having been made manifest when too late, Gongin deeply regretted his death.

From his third son are descended the present princes of Yedjezen. He had a son, named Fada-noa, who was of a perverse and cruel disposition, and caused several of his servants to be put to death for very slight faults. His father, by way of punishment, obliged him to cut off his hair, and banished him to the province of Boungo.

Yeye-yasou’s son, Fide-fada, succeeded his father. His sixth child, Nobou-yosi died in his infancy, and was succeeded by Yeye-yasou’s ninth son. His seventh child was a daughter, married to the prince of Odevara. This prince, having the temerity to take up arms against Taïko, was defeated, and obliged to rip up his belly. Taïko spared the life of his son, for the sake of Yeye-yasou; but made him a priest, and confined him in the temple of Koyasan in Kidjo. Taïko, having quelled the insurrection, took him into favour, created him a prince, and granted him a revenue of one hundred mankokf^[5]. The new prince, however, died of the small-pox, before a province could be allotted to him, and without leaving any issue. He was descended from Kiyo-mori, who was supposed to be the offspring of Koan-mou-ten-o, the 50th Daïri; but this is erroneous, for his father was the 72d Daïri, Ziro-kava-no-fowo, who died in the first month of the third year, Nin-fé (1153). His mother was one of the concubines of Zirokava, who made a present of her, while pregnant, to Fada-mori. Some time after the birth of Kiyo-mori, while he was yet crawling about on his hands and knees, Fada-mori carried him to the Daïri, to show him the child, and addressed to him these verses:

—“What is to be done with the crawling offspring of a concubine?” Ziro-kava immediately replied in these lines:

—“Fada-mori, adopt and take care of him.”

​The husband of Fide-youki, Yeye-yasou’s eighth child, was a man of great courage, and much dreaded by Taïko, who caused him to be poisoned, according to some with tea, but as others assert, with small cakes called mandjou. He was at that time forty years old. His widow afterwards married Asa-i-no-tasima-no-kami Naga-nori, from whom are descended the princes of Aki.

Yori-nobou, the eleventh child of Yeye-yasou, was a man of great courage and sound understanding. He is said to have been implicated in the conspiracy of Youino-djosits and Marabasi-tchouya, against the fourth Djogoun, in the fourth year Ke-yan (1651), of which we shall treat when we come to the reign of that prince.

Lastly, his twelfth child, Yori-fousa, succeeded to the empire on the death of his fifth brother, Nobou-yosi, and was the progenitor of the princes of Mito. He did nothing worthy of notice.

Yeye-yasou, being wounded, it is said, in the loins with a pike, at the taking of Osaka, by Sanada-sayemon-youki-mora, commander of the troops of Fide-yori, a man of distinguished merit, brave, enterprising, and by whom he had previously been several times defeated, expired at Sourouga, from the effects of his wound, on the 17th day of the fourth month of the year 1616. He was born on the 26th of the 12th month of the 11th year Ten-boun (1542), at Okasaki, in the province of Mikava. Thus, according to the Japanese computation, he lived seventy-five years.

Long before this event, in the tenth year Ki-djo (1605), he had resigned the government to his third son, Fide-fada, reserving to himself the right of superintendence, which he exercised till his death. The tablet which bears his posthumous title, as well as that of all his successors, is placed in the temple at Niko.

It is stated that Yeye-yasou was interred at Sakaï, where there is actually a tomb which the inhabitants assert to be his. A circumstance that seems to countenance this report is, that the princes, on their way to Osaka, visited it with very few attendants, for the purpose of offering up their prayers. Nothing positive, however, is known, because it is forbidden to speak, and still more to publish any thing in writing on this subject. Some are of opinion that the tomb in question is that of Taïko, though others affirm that this prince was interred at his mansion at Fousoumi.

​Be this as it may, while Gongin and Fide-yori were contending for the sovereignty, Sanada-awa-no-kami Masa-youki, who had two sons, named Sanada-ize-no-kami and Sanada-sayemon-youki-mora, contrived to introduce one of them into the service of Gongin, and to place the other about the person of Fide-yori, in the hope that whatever might be the issue of the contest, his family might find a patron in the conqueror. He was not disappointed in his expectations, since the descendants of the eldest son are still princes of Simano, and possess an income of ten mankokf^[6].

As to Sanada-sayemon-youki-mora, some writers assert that he was compelled to rip up his belly at Osaka, as well as his son Sanada-Daïski; but this account is contradicted by others, who relate as follows:―Several princes, who had come to the assistance of Fide-yori, having treacherously set fire to the palace of Osaka, Sanada, his son, and several other persons of distinction, finding it impossible to hold out there any longer, escaped in small barks, with Fide-yori, to Fiogo, where they went on board vessels from Satsouma, which they had previously prepared, in case the fortune of war should prove unfavourable to them. These vessels immediately set sail, and conveyed them to Satsouma, where the descendants of several of these families are still living, but in poverty and obscurity. The successors of Gongin have constantly endeavoured, out of policy, to secure the princes of that country in their interest by intermarriages with them. At this time (1782), the daughter of the present prince of Satsouma is the wife of the heir-apparent to the throne.

Gongin was succeeded by his third son, Minamotto-no-fide-fada. He had married the younger sister of Yodo-dono, the wife of Taïko. Aza-i-bizen-no-kami Naga-masa had had by his wife, Odani, younger sister of Nobou-naga, the two daughters just mentioned, and one son. The latter was thirteen years ​old, when Nobou-naga, his uncle, sent for him, and killed him with his own hand, either to punish him for the guilt of his father, or fearing lest he should some day attempt to revenge his death.

The eighth daughter of Fide-fada was married to the Daïri. After the death of her husband, she was called Tchofouk-mon-in, from the gate of Tchofouk. The palace has twelve gates; and on the death of the Daïri, the widow has a house allotted to her, and takes her name from the rate near which it is situated.

Fide-fada’s youngest son had the title of Figo-no-kami, and was prince of Aïsou, in the province of Ozio, which is dependent on that of Mouts. He was a man of extensive knowledge, whom the Djogoun and his successor consulted on all matters of importance. He detested the religion of Siaka, and would not allow any of his dependents to become priests. His memory is held to this day in profound veneration.

Fide-fada resigned the government to his son, Yeye-mitsou, in the ninth year Gen-wa (1623), and died the 24th of the first month of the ninth year Kouan-ye (1632).

Minamotto-no-yeye-mitsou was the second son of Fide-fada. During his reign nothing remarkable happened, excepting the war of Arima and Sima-bara, of which some notice will be taken in another place.

Minamotto-no-yeye-tsouna, eldest son of Yeye-mitsou, succeeded his father in the fourth year Keï-zan (1651). We find nothing during his reign worthy of being transmitted to posterity, excepting the conspiracy of the prince of Tosa, of which the manuscripts furnish circumstantial details.

The prince of Tosa, a faithful adherent of Fide-yori’s, had devoted himself ​to his service, and fought for his cause. After the discomfiture of his master, he fell into the power of Gongin, who, in addition to other ignominious treatment, caused his hands to be cut off, which is considered as the height of infamy. The unfortunate prince having reproached the conqueror with his cruelty, his perfidy, and the violation of his oath, Gongin had the barbarity to order his head to be struck off.

Marabosi-Tchouya, son of Tosa, formed the design of revenging his father’s death, as soon as he should be of age; but being then destitute of the means of attempting so bold an enterprise, he resolved to keep his intentions as secret as possible, and to await a favourable opportunity. Being appointed to the command of the pikemen of Yori-nobou, Gongin’s eighth son, he began to think himself able to carry his plan into execution, and united for this purpose with Youïno-djositz, son of an eminent dyer, a man justly esteemed for his extensive knowledge, and who had been tutor to Yori-nobou. It is said that Yori-nobou himself was implicated in the conspiracy, but there was never any proof of the charge, as Tchouya took care that he should not be compromised. However this may be, Tchouya had agreed with Djositz to exterminate the whole family of Gongin, and to make themselves masters of the empire, and divide it between them.

Tchouya was of a prodigal disposition; he squandered in silly expenses the money which he contrived to obtain for the execution of his enterprise, so that he was frequently reduced to want. Djositz foretold that the plan would fail through his fault, and the event soon justified his prediction.

Tchouya, after borrowing from all who would trust him, found himself hard pressed by his creditors, who demanded the interest that was due to them, but he was unable to pay it. He, therefore, solicited a respite of a fortnight, promising to pay double the amount due. His assurance excited suspicions, and he was told, that with the slender means which he was known to possess, it would be impossible for him to raise, in so short a time, the requisite sum. One of his creditors, a gunmaker, named Tosiro, was the most urgent; and Tchouya had the indiscretion to reveal to him his design, in hopes of inducing him to have patience. Tosiro pretended to be satisfied; but he lost no time in communicating to the governor of Yedo what he had just heard, and the governor immediately gave information of it to the court.

​The governor had recourse to the following stratagem in order to apprehend Tchouya. He caused an alarm of fire to be made before his door. Tchouya, roused by the shouts, rushed into the street armed only with a short sabre. Four men immediately fell upon him. He dispatched two of them; but several of their comrades coming to their aid, secured his person after a long resistance. His wife, suspecting from the noise of the combat what was the matter, seized such of his papers as might have betrayed the conspirators, and burned them by the flame of a lamp. Thus her presence of mind saved a great number of princes and of distinguished personages, who were implicated in the plot. The Japanese still speak with commendation of the conduct of this generous woman, and when they would praise a female for intelligence and resolution, they compare her to the wife of Tchouya. The governor, after the apprehension of the chief conspirator, caused his house to be strictly searched, but not finding what he expected, he sent the husband, the wife, and their whole family to prison.

Djositz was then at Yougi, his birth-place, near Kambara. Orders for his apprehension were dispatched to the governor of Foutcho; but no sooner was he apprized of the discovery of the plot than he put an end to his life in the usual way, to avoid an ignominious death. His head was nevertheless cut off and exposed on the place of execution, near the river Abikawa.

All those who were known to have been intimately connected with Tchouya were arrested. In this number were Ikiyemon and Fatsiyemon. It was no difficult matter to obtain from either the one or the other an avowal of the part which they had personally taken in the conspiracy. They were too noble-minded to think of excusing themselves by falsehoods, for being concerned in a project which they considered so honourable; but nothing could induce them to name one of their accomplices. The ordinary counsellor of state, Matsdaïra-ize-no-kami, finding persuasion of no avail, ordered Izide-tate-waki, the executioner, to put them to the species of torture called kama-boko-zeme, which consists in extending the body of the criminal, plastered with clay, upon hot ashes, till the heat dries the clay and bursts the flesh all over. It was on the 21st day of the 8th month of the 4th year, Keï-zan (1651,) according to the manuscript Keïzan-daï-feki, that Tchouya and his two friends underwent this cruel punishment. None of them ever changed countenance; they seemed ​insensible to pain. “I have come a great way,” said Fatsiyemon; “this warming will be good for my health; my limbs will be but the more active for it.”

As the kama-boko-zeme could not subdue the fortitude of these two intrepid friends, recourse was had to the neto-zeme, as follows. The back was laid open for the space of eight inches, and melted copper poured into the incision. It was there left to cool, and then removed by means of a spade with such violence, that the flesh in contact with the metal was torn out along with it. The spectators shuddered with horror; the sufferers alone neither uttered a murmur, nor betrayed the least sign of pain. Fatsiyemon still retaining all his composure, jocosely observed that he was not well, that this operation would be as serviceable to him as that of the moxa, and not fail to cure him.

Ize-no-kami, finding that pain had not the power to wrest their secret from them, again pressed Tchouya to discover his accomplices if he would spare himself further tortures. “Scarcely had I attained the age of nine years,” replied Tchouya with firmness, “before I conceived the design of avenging my father, and seating myself on the throne. Thou canst no more shake my courage than a wall of iron. I defy thine ingenuity; invent new torments. Do what thou wilt, my fortitude is proof against every thing.”

The counsellor of state tired of these tortures which excited the indignation of the spectators, without producing the intended effect, ordered the executioner to suspend them, and remanded the culprits to prison.

On the 24th, at the fourth hour of the day, (which corresponds with our ten in the morning,) two men, aged about sixty, and named, the one Sawara, and the other Naga-yama, finding it impossible to secrete themselves any longer, repaired to the governor and avowed that they were accomplices of Tchouya. Some others, in like manner, came and surrendered themselves. They were all bound and conveyed to prison.

The 28th was fixed for the day of execution. In the morning information was received that two of the conspirators had put an end to their lives at Asabou-o-toriba, a village near Yedo. The procession began to move at day-break. Seven subaltern officers went first to clear the way. They were followed by one hundred executioners, each carrying a naked pike; next came one hundred more executioners with long staves; then one hundred more armed with sabres; and afterwards fifty officers (banyoosen). Next to them walked ​an executioner carrying a paper setting forth the crime of the conspirators, which he read aloud in the principal streets and crossings. Tchouya followed, dressed in two robes of light blue, made of the stuff called fabita, with his hands tied behind him; then came Ikiyemon with his two sons, Ousinoski and Kamenoski; and after them Yosida-fatsiyemon, Ari-i-fatsiso, Sawara-youbi, Naga-yama-fioyemon, Wadaski, mule-driver to Djositz, and several others, to the number of twenty-seven. Tchouya’s wife and mother, Ikiyemon’s wife, and four other women closed the procession.

In this manner they were conducted through the whole city. In passing the bridge of Nipon-bas, Tchouya heard a man about forty years of age say to another, that it was a highly criminal and extravagant enterprize to conspire against the emperor. “Well it befits thee, miserable sparrow,” cried Tchouya, with a look of indignation, “to compare thyself with the eagle or the crane.” The man reddened with shame, and buried himself among the crowd.

At the moment of reaching the place of execution at Sinagawa, a man, carrying two gold-hilted sabres, and dressed in a mantle of gilan stuff, rushed through the crowd, and advancing to Tomida-sioubi-dono the inspector, thus addressed him: “My name is Sibata-zabrobe; I am a friend of Tchouya and Djosits. Living at a great distance from Yedo, I was ignorant of the discovery of the plot. As soon as I heard of it, I hastened to Sourouga, to make inquiries after my unfortunate friends. I was informed of the death of Djosits, and certain of the fate that awaited Tchouya, I repaired to Yedo. There I kept myself concealed in hopes that the emperor would pardon him; but since he is condemned and about to die, I am come to embrace him, and to suffer with him.” “You are a worthy man,” replied the inspector; “it were to be wished that all the world was like you. I have no occasion to wait for the orders of the governor of Yedo; I give you permission to speak to Tchouya.”

The two friends conversed together a considerable time. Sibata expressed the extreme pain he felt on account of the discovery of the conspiracy, his condemnation, and the death of Djosits. He added, that on receiving this melancholy intelligence, he had come to Yedo to share his fate, and that he should be ashamed to survive him. He then took from his sleeve a small pot of zakki, and they bade farewell to each other while drinking it. Tears trickled down Tchouya’s cheeks: he thanked Sibata for his kind and courageous ​resolution, and declared that he was most happy in the opportunity of once more embracing him before he died. Sibata, likewise weeping, replied: “Our body, in this world, resembles the flower Asa-gawa, (a magnificent flower before sun-rise, but which immediately afterwards fades and falls), or the kogero, (an insect which is produced and dies the same day); but after death we shall be in a better world. There we may enjoy each other’s society without interruption.” With these words he rose and thanked the inspector for his indulgence.

All the criminals were fastened to crosses, and the executioners armed themselves with their pikes. Tchouya was first pierced by two executioners, who opened his body in the form of a cross. It is stated, that those who follow that profession are so expert at this operation, that there is not one of them who cannot pierce the criminal sixteen times without touching the vital parts.

The sons of Ikiyemon excited universal compassion. The eldest said to his brother who had scarcely attained his twelfth year: “We are going to the abode of the gods;” and he began to pray, repeating several times: Naman-daoubts (Nami-Amida-Buts^[7]). “Amida, pray for us!” There was not one whom such a spectacle did not melt into tears.

Tchouya’s wife requested her husband’s mother to invoke the gods with her at the moment of being re-united to them. “I am old,” replied the mother, “but you are yet young; nevertheless, since you desire it I will join you in praying to the gods to turn our thoughts from all earthly objects.”

When they had all been put to death, Sibata called upon the inspector, and offered him his two sabres, saying: “To you I am indebted for the consolation of having conversed with my friend Tchouya, and bidding adieu to him before his removal to a better world. I entreat you to denounce me to the governor of Yedo, that he may order me to suffer like my mend.” “The gods forbid!” replied the inspector. “Were I to do what you desire, you would die like Tchouya. Your courage deserves a better fate. While all his other friends are hiding themselves in dens and caverns, you have braved death to embrace ​him: such men as you are rare.” We are not informed what became of Sibata; the manuscript before me makes no farther mention of this generous friend.

Owing to the presence of mind of Tchouya’s wife, in burning the papers which might have compromised the conspirators, and to the fortitude displayed by the condemned persons in spite of their torments, the principal accomplices remained undiscovered. Yori-nobou, however, was suspected, and his house was searched; but his secretary, Kanno-feyemon, took every thing upon himself, protesting that he alone was acquainted with the plot, and had kept it a profound secret from his master. He then ripped up his belly, and by his firmness saved Yori-nobou, who remained unmolested at Yedo.

When Yosi-moune, a descendant of Yori-nobou, became Djogoun, he rewarded the fidelity of this secretary in the persons of his posterity, on whom he conferred the most honourable posts. One of them, Kanno-fotomi-no-kami is at present (1784,) extraordinary counsellor of state.

The Djogoun, Yeye-tsouna, died on the 8th of the 5th month of the 8th year In-po (1680), without issue, and was succeeded the year following by his younger brother Tsouna-yosi.

Minamotto-no-tsouna-yosi, fourth son of Yeye-mitsou, was, previously to his accession to the throne, prince of Kootski. He kept his court at Tateba-yasi, had the rank of Zeïsio, and the title of Tateba-yasi-zeïsio-no-tsouna-yosi. His elder brother, Kofou-tsouna-siye, had ruined himself by his inordinate passion for wine and women. Intoxication had led him into many excesses, and he had frequently gone so far as to strike and wound his people. Yeye-tsouna, incensed at his misconduct, sent him an order to rip up his belly. At his death he left one son, who is said to have been adopted by Tsouna-yosi, after that prince had had the misfortune to lose his own son: but the account that is given of the manner in which Yeye-nobou was elevated to the throne proves that Tsouna, instead of adopting his nephew, had cast his eyes on the son of one of his officers, whom he intended to nominate his successor; and this ​design, which would probably have produced commotions in the empire, was frustrated, as we shall presently find, only by the resolution of Tsouna’s wife, who killed her husband, and dispatched herself before it could be carried into execution.

Tsouna was in his youth a passionate lover of the sciences. On the 21st of the 8th month of the 4th year Gen-rok (1691), he founded a university at Yedo, in the square of Yousima, where is to be seen the portrait of Confucius. Simio-in-Daïnagon-Motosouke, an officer of the Daïri’s, caused the inscription Nitok-Mon, signifying Entrance to the most valuable Treasures, to be engraved in magnificent letters over the second gate. It was opened in the presence of the Djogoun, who repaired thither accompanied by the princes of Kidjo, Owari, and Mito, several other members of his family, and the most distinguished personages of his empire. The streets were crowded with spectators, and the donations piled up in the form of pyramids. A salary of one thousand kokf^[8] was assigned to the first professor, Fagasi-daïgat-no-kami. The news of this foundation soon spread, and gave a favourable impulse to the sciences throughout the whole empire. The Djogoun himself cultivated them with such ardour as to impair his health by it. His servant, Yanagi-sava-dewa-no-kami, represented to one of the friends of the prince, that this immoderate passion for study would not fail to make him ill. His friends were sensible that love alone could divert him from occupations to which he was so strongly attached; they would fain have given some relaxation to his mind by enirasring his affections, but how to accomplish this object was the difficulty. They at length determined to send to him seven or eight of the most beautiful females in Yedo, in hopes that some one of them would triumph over his passion for study. It is said, that all of them were relatives of Dewa-no-kami. Be this as it may, the project failed, for none of these beauties could, at least for this time, make the least impression on the heart of the Djogoun.

At the expiration of ten months, he fell ill; but though his indisposition was slight, Dewa-no-kami, and Maki-no-bizen-no-kami feared that it would be aggravated by too intense application: they summoned therefore the physicians to prescribe medicines, and Gosiou-in-no-zosio, the priest, to pray to Heaven ​for the recovery of the prince. After his health was re-established, the priest was regarded as a god. He availed himself of this influence, to prevail upon the Djogoun to publish a decree prohibiting the putting to death of any living animal throughout the whole empire; and, as Tsouna-yosi had been proclaimed Djogoun in the second year Ten-wa (1682), or the year of the Dog, the killing of dogs was more especially forbidden. A piece of ground was even enclosed with palisades, and here a great number of those animals were daily supplied with food^[9].

The priest was rewarded with two hundred ounces of silver. The Djogoun’s wife and mother presented him with obangs^[10], silver, and costly stuffs; and Bizen-no-kami and Dewa-no-kami gave him each thirty ingots of silver^[11]. The privilege of presenting in person all petitions to the Djogoun was also conferred on him. Never was the temple of Gosiou-in so rich as under the direction of this priest.

From among the females who had been introduced to the Djogoun, he selected, after his recovery, the beautiful Ouneme, who soon became pregnant, and, to the high gratification of her uncle Dewa-no-kami, produced a son, who was named Tokoumats-kimi. The Djogoun was so delighted, that he made Dewa-no-kami a present of twenty thousand kokf^[12], in consideration of his niece. The first wife of the Djogoun also became pregnant about this time; but she was delivered of a daughter, who received the name of Fama-fiime-kimi.

On the 8th of the 8th month of the second year Ten-wa (1682), three ambassadors of the king of Corea arrived at Yedo, with a letter from their master, ​to congratulate the Djogoun on his accession to the throne. At their departure, Tsouna-yosi delivered to them in answer a letter, wanting one of the seals usually appended to epistles of this kind. It is customary, namely, to accompany every letter of the Djogoun, with another letter sealed with the seals of his four chief officers, who are called Taïro, and who are of higher rank than counsellors of state, and take cognizance of all public matters. It happened that one of these chief officers, Sakaï-outa-no-kami, prince of Fimesi, had just been disgraced and deprived of his post for mal-administration; and for this reason one of the seals was wanting. The ambassadors, strict observers of etiquette, like all the people of the East, refused to take the letter in that state, and no other expedient could be devised than to send for the prince’s son and create him Taïro in the room of his father. Immediately after his nomination, he affixed his seal to the letter. The ambassadors no longer hesitated to receive it, and returned to give their master an account of their mission.

On the 14th of the 3d month of the 14th year Gen-rok (1701), Assan-no-takoumi-no-kami-Naganori, prince of Ako, who had been several times treated contemptuously by Kira-kotsouki-no-ski, having received a fresh affront from him in the palace of the Djogoun, drew his sabre with the intention of revenging the insult. Some persons, on hearing the noise, ran up and separated them, and Kotsouki was but slightly wounded. It is an unpardonable crime to draw a sabre in the palace; the prince was therefore ordered to rip himself up, and his descendants were banished for ever. His adversary who, out of respect for the palace, had abstained from drawing his sabre, was pardoned.

This injustice exasperated the servants of the prince so much the more, since it was Kotsouki, who, by his repeated insults had caused the destruction of their master. Forty-seven of them, having agreed to revenge his death, forced their way, in the night of the 14th of the 12th month of the following year, into the palace of Kotsouki; and, after a combat which lasted till day-light, they penetrated to his apartment and dispatched him. The Djogoun, on the first intelligence of this desperate attack, sent troops to the assistance of the unfortunate Kotsouki, but they arrived too late to save him. The assailants, ​not one of whom lost his life in the scuffle, were all taken and condemned to rip up their bellies, which they did with the greatest firmness, satisfied with having revenged their master. They were all interred in the temple of Singa-kousi, near the prince. The soldiers, in token of respect for their fidelity, still visit their graves, and pray before them. Kotsouki’s son, who had been withheld by cowardice from hastening to the assistance of his father, though he was then in the palace, was deprived of his post and banished, with all his kindred, to the island of Awasi.

Fakaki-fikoyemon, governor of Nangasaki, having obtained permission of the Djogoun to wear two sabres, and to have a pike in his coat of arms, his people became in consequence so insolent that they treated every one with the utmost haughtiness and disdain.

On the 20th of the 12th month of the 14th year Gen-rok (1701), they were carrying his daughter in a sedan-chair to the temple, to receive a name^[13]. Heavy rains had rendered the road very muddy. Fokka-fouri-kouanseïmon, that is, the governor of the village of Fokka-fouri, hastily passing by the chair, had the misfortune to splash it. Fikoyemon’s people began to abuse him, and regardless of his excuses, fell upon and beat him, and then ran to his house in the street called Ouya-goto-matche, where they destroyed all the furniture.

The servants of Kouanseïmon took a boat, and lost no time in carrying to him intelligence of what had happened. After deliberating on the means of revenging this insult, which could not be washed away but with blood, they returned to Nangasaki, with several of the inhabitants of Fokka-fouri, assembled to the number of more than two hundred before the residence of Fikoyemon, and as soon as the door was opened, rushed in and attacked the master and his people. Fikoyemon valiantly defended himself; but his foot having ​unfortunately slipped, his adversaries fell upon him and cut off his head, which they carried in triumph to Fokka-fouri, as a trophy of their vengeance^[14]. It was conveyed to Nangasaki, and interred with the body near the temple of Fon-ren-si, together with a white dog, which had rushed among the assailants to defend his master, and been killed after wounding several of them.

Two of Kouanseïmon’s people ripped themselves up on the bridge, near the residence of Fikoyemon, calling loudly upon the people to witness the courage with which the inhabitants of Fokka-fouri suffer death in order to revenge injuries.

Yodoya-fatsgro, son of one of the wealthiest tradesmen of Osaka, having- lost his father, passed his time in the houses of courtezans, where he launched out into foolish expenses. His mother allowed him thirty kobans^[15] a month, but he spent more than a thousand, and was obliged to borrow, in order to supply his prodigalities. His servants, Kanbe and Zobe, and the companions of his debaucheries, Gentets, the physician, Yagofadsi, Kiseïmon, and Siosaïmon, assisted him to procure money, and afterwards to spend it. The creditors came, according to custom, before the Feast of Lanterns, to demand payment of what was due to them. The mother, to whom they applied, refused to pay them, hoping that the want of money would oblige her son to relinquish his disgraceful way of life. This refusal threw the young man into great embarrassment; he consulted with his friends, and stole from his mother’s shop a gold cock, a gold caldron, a large piece of calambac wood^[16], and an ancient autograph note of Teïka, an officer of the Daïri’s, whose hand-writing is in great request in Japan, on account of its extraordinary beauty. Fousia-itcheyemon, the usurer, agreed to advance money on these valuable effects; but as the sum was not sufficient to discharge the debts which he had contracted in ​the Street of the Courtezans, Gentets advised him to draw a forged bill in the name of Tagafasi-Yagofasi, upon his master Yanagisawa-dewa-no-kami, for the sum of three thousand kobans^[17]. Fatsgro, urged by necessity, had the imprudence to draw the bill, which he also signed with his name. He gave it to one of his servants, who, under the assumed name of Yagofasi, presented it to Ikeda-zirobi, the banker. The latter, who was no stranger to the influence which Dewa-no-kami possessed over the Djogoun, and knew, moreover, that the first nobles, when in want of money, frequently give similar bills, made no difficulty to discount that which was now brought to him; so that Fatsgro, after paying all his debts, was enabled to indulge in fresh debaucheries.

Returning home one morning, after spending as usual the whole night in drinking in the Street of the Courtezans, he threw off his upper garments, retaining only the white robe, which none but the priests, women, and persons enjoying the title of Kami, have a right to wear. As he was thus walking in the street, with a long silver pipe in his mouth, he was met by Mats-daïra-inabo-no-kami, the warden of the castle, and Kigane-yayemon, the inspector of the city, who, not knowing him, asked his name. Okoubo-osoumi-no-kami, governor of Osaka, to whom they made their report, ordered Fatsgro to attend at the palace of the government. He accordingly repaired thither, dressed in his white robe. When the governor inquired who had given him permission to wear a robe of that colour, he made no reply. Kanbe, his servant, answered for him, “My master,” said he, “has inherited from his ancestors the privilege of receiving every year the clothes with the arms of the Djogoun; and he thinks it his duty, out of respect, to wear a white robe underneath them.” “I cannot admit this excuse,” replied the governor; “no person, the Djogoun’s officers not excepted, even though possessing an income of ten thousand kokf, has a right to wear a white robe, unless he enjoys the title of Kami. Of this thy master, one of the principal inhabitants of Osaka, cannot be ignorant. If he were determined to wear a white robe, why had he not at least a small piece of coloured stuff sewed on some part of it? Thy master, therefore, has transgressed the commands of the Djogoun, which is a capital crime.” The governor, in consequence, ordered Fatsgro to be conducted to prison, till definitive judgment could be passed on the offender.

​This adventure was soon known throughout all Osaka. The banker, uneasy about his bill, which bore the signature of Fatsgro, hastened to Dewa-no-kami’s steward, and asked him when it would be paid. The steward, in astonishment, replied, that he had not authorized any person to obtain money from him, and that the bill was a forgery. The banker related all that had passed, but being unable to convince the steward, both went to prefer their complaints to the governor. The steward, on examining the bill, acknowledged that the signature was his, but declared that the seal affixed to it^[18] was false. The governor sent for Fatsgro, who confessed every thing. His accomplices were immediately apprehended and brought to the governor’s, where they underwent a rigorous examination. The man who had personated the steward was, like all the others, convicted by his own confession.

The crime was too heinous to pass unpunished. The governor communicated the circumstance to the court, and orders were sent to behead all Fatsgro’s accomplices. As for himself, in consideration of the services which his ancestors had rendered to Gongin, his life was spared at the intercession of Dewa-no-kami. Hopes were moreover entertained, that, being still young, he might mend, and that the punishment of those who had seduced him into guilt, would prove a lesson that he would never forget. All his property, however, was confiscated^[19], and he was banished to Yamatta, near Fousoumi, where he was afterwards admitted into the number of the priests.

​As highly as Tsouna-yosi was esteemed at the beginning of his reign for his good qualities, and his application to study, so strongly was he afterwards detested for his debauchery and profusion. Satiated with lawful gratifications, he neglected the sex, and gave a loose to the disgraceful propensities at that time too generally indulged by the Japanese of all classes. He squandered ​the treasures amassed by his ancestors, in expenses so silly and extravagant, that his tutor, Araï-tsikougo-no-kami, deemed it his duty to represent to him the fatal consequences of such conduct. For this purpose he composed, in the fifth year Fo-ye (1708), a treatise entitled Itokoua-siriak, which I shall have occasion to notice when I come to the description of the gold, silver, and copper coins. This work he concluded in these terms:―

“As to the wealth of foreign countries, I find in ancient writers, that China produced a great quantity of gold under the dynasty of Kan^[20]; but this abundance gradually diminished. Under the dynasty of Zoo, small pieces of wood were employed instead of silver; under that of Gen, it was almost the only current coin; under that of Mien, copper coin and pieces of wood were used. The reason of this is, that since the dynasty of Kan, gold, silver, and copper have been daily becoming more rare in China.

“The ancient writers compared the metals to the bones in the human body, and taxes to the blood, flesh, hair, and skin, that are incessantly renewing, which is not the case with metals. Under the dynasty of Kan, the mines were too much exhausted, and hence the subsequent scarcity of gold and silver. Under the dynasties of Zio, Rio, Kin, and Gen, China was constantly at war: the greatest part of the gold and silver found its way to Kettan^[21] and other countries, which traded with the Chinese. In more than sixty provinces of the empire, foreign sepikkes only were in circulation, whence we may infer what a prodigious quantity of gold and silver had been exported from China.

“When the doctrine of Siaka was propagated in China, gold and silver became still more scarce, because the priests of that deity erected numerous temples, and used those metals for the purpose of covering their idols.

​“A thousand years ago, gold, silver, and copper, were unknown in Japan; yet there was no want of necessaries. The earth was fertile, and this is undoubtedly the most desirable species of wealth. After the discovery of these metals, the use of them spread but slowly, and so late as the time of Gongin they were still very rare. This prince was the first who caused the mines to be diligently wrought, and during his reign, so great a quantity of gold and silver was extracted from them, as no one could previously have formed any conception of: and since these metals resemble the bones of the human body, inasmuch as what is once extracted from the earth is not reproduced, if the mines continue to be thus wrought, in less than a thousand years they will be exhausted.

“I estimate the quantity of gold and silver exported from the empire, since Gongin’s time, as more considerable than that exported from China into Tartary; and I compute the annual exportation of gold at about one hundred and fifty thousand kobans^[22], so that in ten years this empire is drained of fifteen hundred thousand kobans. If then serious attention be not paid to this subject, and the most rigid economy be not observed in the expenditure, the country will soon be entirely ruined, and in less than one hundred years, the same poverty of which Chinese authors complain will be felt here.

“In ancient times, as I have said, and when the people were unacquainted with gold, silver, and copper, they knew no want, and were good and virtuous. Since those metals were discovered, the heart of man has become daily more and more depraved. With the exception, however, of medicines, we can dispense with every thing that is brought to us from abroad. The stuffs and other foreign commodities are of no real benefit to us; formerly, indeed, they were not even known here. All the gold, silver, and copper, extracted from the mines during the reign of Gongin, and since his time, is gone, and what is still more to be regretted, for things which we could do well without. If we squander our treasures in this manner, what shall we have to subsist upon? Let each of Gongin’s successors reflect seriously upon this matter, and the wealth of Japan will last as long as the heavens and the earth.”

​So far was this prudent advice from making the least impression upon the Djogoun, that he persisted in his career of prodigality and extravagance. His son, Tokou-mats-kimi, had died in his infancy. Tsouno-yosi, enervated by debauchery, and having long renounced all intercourse with women, could not hope for an heir; he therefore resolved, in the sixth year Fo-ye (1709), to look round for a successor.

He cast his eyes on Kaï-no-kami, son of Yanagisava-dewa-no-kami, whom he determined to adopt. On the 11th of the first month of the year, it is customary for the Djogoun to give an entertainment to the princes and chief officers, after they have paid him their compliments of congratulation. This opportunity was chosen by Yosi to declare publicly his intention of adopting Kaï-no-kami.

His first officer, Ino-kamon-no-kami, represented to him, that such a step would displease all the princes, and it was much to be feared that it would produce a revolution in the empire. Finding his remonstrances unavailing, he repaired to the wife of the Djogoun, informed her of his master’s design, and after he had made her sensible that if it were carried into execution, a general rebellion would be inevitable, he entreated her to think of some means to prevent such a calamity. Having reflected a few moments, she desired him not to be uneasy, as she had bethought herself of an expedient which could not fail to produce the desired effect; and when he urged her to communicate her plan to him, she replied that she could not say more at the moment, but he should soon know it all.

The day preceding that on which the Djogoun intended to nominate his successor, she sent to request the prince to take zakki with her. The Djogoun accepted the invitation, and she caused a sumptuous repast to be provided for him. While he was engaged in drinking, she rose, stepped into her closet, where she wrote a note to Ino-kamon-no-kami, directing him how to act; and then furnishing herself with a dagger, which is usually worn by all women of distinction, she returned to the festive apartment. Soon afterwards, she ordered all her women to retire, telling the Djogoun that she wished to speak to him in private. When they were alone, she thus addressed him: “During the many years that we have been together, you have never refused me any thing. I have to-day a fresh favour to solicit of you. Will you grant it me?” ​He inquired what was her wish. “You purpose,” replied she, “to choose the son of Dewa-no-kami for your successor. This measure will excite all the princes to revolt, and occasion the ruin of the empire; let me, therefore, entreat you to relinquish your intention.”

At these words he rose in a vehement passion, and asked how she durst presume to interfere in affairs of state. “The empire is mine,” added he; “I will do as I please. What need have I of the advice of a woman! I will never see thee or speak to thee more.” He was about to quit the apartment, but she followed and held him by the sleeve. “If,” said she, “thou art determined to execute thy design, to-morrow the whole empire will be in revolution.” She then plunged the dagger twice into his bosom, and seeing him fall, she dropped upon her knees beside him, begging his pardon for what she had done, since there was no other way to preserve the dynasty of Gongin and to save the empire, and declaring that she would not survive him. Accordingly, no sooner had he expired, than she stabbed herself with the same dagger, and sunk lifeless by his side. Her women, alarmed by the noise, ran into the apartment, and found them both weltering in their blood.

Kamon-no-kami, having read the note addresed to him, repaired with all possible expedition to the palace: he found the gate shut, but it was opened by order of the inspector to him, as well as to all the other servants of the Djogoun. He hastened to his master; the dreadful sight made him shudder with horror, though the note which he had received must in some measure have prepared him for the event. When he had somewhat recovered from the shock: “This woman,” said he, “has rendered a most important service to the state; but for her the whole empire would have been convulsed.”

She had communicated to him the particulars of her plan, requesting him, in case she should succeed, to conceal the Djogoun’s death for a month, and merely to spread a report that he was dangerously ill. He would have followed these instructions, but, in spite of the precautions taken by himself and the inspector of the palace, the news transpired, and it was soon publicly known that the Djogoun was dead.

She had also expressed a wish that Yeye-nobou, prince of Kaï^[23], and son ​of Tsouna-sige, might be elected Djogoun, and that a revenue of fifteen mankokf^[24], and the government of the best province might be conferred on the son of Dewa-no-kami, in memory of the affection felt for him by her husband.

The father was summoned the same day to the palace. Kamon-no-kami intimated to him that he was dismissed from his post of counsellor of state, and enjoined him not to quit his house till farther orders. All those who witnessed his disgrace turned their backs to him at his departure.

Ino-kamon-no-kami was descended from Gongin’s chief secretary, who had rendered essential services to his master. For this reason, one of his posterity is at this day chief officer of the Djogoun, who cannot engage in any affair of consequence without his consent. He has even a right to depose the Djogoun, if he governs ill, and to appoint another. The counsellors of state, both ordinary and extraordinary, are subordinate to him; and it is not lawful for him to receive any presents whatever.

Several Japanese assert that Kamon-no-kami was present at the death of the Djogoun, and that he even held his hands, while his wife plunged the dagger into his heart. She was the daughter of the Daïri, and had conceived a detestation for her husband, on account of his aversion to her sex.

Besides the son who died young, as before stated, Tsouna-yosi had a daughter, married to Kï-no-tchounagon-Tsoune-nori, prince of Kino-kouni.

Minamotto-no-yeye-nobou, nephew to Tsouna-yosi, and son of his elder brother, Tsouna-sige, was elevated to the throne agreeably to the desire of the wife of the late Djogoun. During his reign, nothing remarkable occurred. He had three sons, two of whom died in the birth; the third succeeded him. Yeye-nobou died on the 14th of the 10th month of the second year Djo-tok (1712), after a reign of about four years.

Minamotto-no-yeye-tsougou, son of Yeye-nobou, was not of an age to govern when he succeeded his father. As he had no title, on account of his extreme youth, he was called Nobou-matsou-kimi. The government was placed in the hands of the counsellors of state during the minority of the prince. At the beginning of the sixth year Djo-tok (1716) the Djogoun fell dangerously ill. Orders were immediately issued that public prayers should be said in the principal temples for his recovery: but they proved unavailing. The most skilful physicians also employed all the resources of their art to no purpose. The young prince died on the 30th of the fourth month of the same year. The whole empire went into mourning. He was buried near the temple of Za-nien-si, and the priests gave him the name of You-sio-in.

The three principal counsellors of state, Ino-kamon-no-kami, Mats-daïra-sanouki-no-kami and Mats-daïra-fiogon-no-kami, summoned to a meeting in the palace of Yosi-moune, prince of Kidjo, the prince of Ovari, the prince of Mito, the relatives of the Djogoun, and the counsellors of state, and consulted them on the choice of a new Djogoun. They unanimously elected the prince of Kidjo. He earnestly entreated to be allowed to decline the honour, alleging that he had not the talents necessary for governing, and proposed the prince of Ovari, as being of superior rank: but the prince of Mito rose, took him by the hand, and led him to the throne. He was then proclaimed Djogoun, and the name of the year was changed to that of Kio-fo.

Minamotto-no-yosi-moune, before his accession prince of Kidjo, contributed greatly to the prosperity of the empire, which, during his reign kept progressively improving. The safety of the roads, and the suppression of robbery, ​by means of a rigorous police, drew thither great numbers of travellers. His fame soon spread throughout the whole empire, and the Japanese at the present day still compare him with Gongin for humanity and beneficence, as they compare his reign with that of the Chinese emperor, Zin^[25].

Of the events of this reign, which lasted thirty years, the work intituled Ken-day-gen-pi-rok, records the following as the most remarkable.

The counsellor of state, Tsoutcha-sagami-no-kami, a man distinguished for his extensive knowledge, affability, and great experience in public affairs, which had caused him to be constantly employed during the reigns of the four preceding Djogouns, being far advanced in years, received permission to appear in the apartments of the palace with a purple bamboo-cane. There are very few instances of such a favour. It was granted by Gongin, in his palace at Sourouga, to Fonda-sada-no-kami, and at an earlier period, Anmeï-in-dono enjoyed this privilege in the palace of Kamakoura: but at the time of which we are treating, Sagami-no-kami was the only person on whom it was conferred, as a reward for his services, and as the strongest demonstration of the esteem entertained for him by the Djogoun.

It is rare to find just men among the great judges and governors. It is, therefore, customary to say concerning them―“They all pretend to hold their heads very high, but most of them will bend like the pines of Karasaki;” signifying that, however upright they may appear without, there is nothing but injustice within. In the time of Gongin, three of the chief judges were celebrated at Miyako for their integrity: these were Itakoura-igo-no-kami, Itakoura-savo-no-kami, and Itakoura-naïzen-no-kami. Since Gongin’s reign, it would be difficult to produce a parallel to them: but in the sixth year Djo-tok ​(1716), a governor of Ize^[26], named O-oka-yetchesen-no-kami, a man as estimable for his probity, as for his courage, deserved to have these ancient verses applied to him:―

that is to say:—“A governor does not bend like the pines of Karasaki.”

O-oka had originally been appointed Tchou-yemon. His income then amounted to five hundred kokf. He was keeper of the apartments of the palace. Under Bounsio-in, or Yeye-nobou, he was promoted to be chief steward to the prince, and subsequently inspector of the palace. These inspectors are ten in number, agreeably to this maxim of Confucius: “In what ten eyes see, ten fingers can easily separate the good from the bad.” The same Djogoun afterwards made O-oka governor of Ize. The people of Ize had long been at variance with those of Kidjo; they had repeatedly preferred their complaints to their governors, but the predecessors of O-oka had not ventured to pronounce any decision, dreading the power of Yosi-moune, who was then prince of Kidjo. O-oka, regardless of all considerations but the performance of his duty, investigated their complaints, and finding them just, gave an award against the people of Kidjo. Yosi-moune, having become Djogoun, appointed O-oka, from a knowledge of his integrity, to be governor of Yedo. His countrymen applied to him the following Japanese proverb: “There is not a horse, let him be ever so good, that can run a hundred miles a-day,” meaning, in this instance, that O-oka, though he had all the qualities of a good governor, would never have been governor of Yedo, if Yosi-moune had not been elected Djogoun.

O-oka held this post twenty years; he was afterwards usher of the palace. His income, which was only five kokf on his entrance into public life, was from this time ten thousand. The duty of ushers of the palace consists in successively announcing, in a loud voice, the names of those who are admitted ​to the presence of the Djogoun. Thus, when the chief of the Dutch factory appears, the usher cries: Olanda capitain. The same ceremony is observed in regard to the princes of the country. The ushers formerly had no fixed place allotted to them in the palace, and therefore usually remained in the apartment of the one of their comrades who was on duty. O-oka being one day in the apartment of Ino-ouye-kavatche-no-kami, the usher, whose turn it was to announce visitors, the latter said to him: “Usher, you are not on duty; you cannot remain here.” O-oka knew not whither to go: this circumstance showed the necessity of providing a hall for the ushers, and orders were given accordingly.

On the sixth day of the first month, an envoy from the temple of Djo-sio-zan presented himself to be announced to the Djogoun; his title, Bansiou-Djosiozan-no-djozo-zo-daï^[27], was rather difficult to be remembered and repeated. Accordingly Ino-ouye-kavatche-no-kami, the usher on duty, blundered in announcing it. His comrades retired quite abashed, but he looked at the Djogoun and burst into a laugh. The prince, displeased at his impudence and want of respect, removed him from his offices.

During the reign of Taïtokou-in, or Fide-fada, and that of Dayou-in, or Yeye-mitsou, the lands of Kato-o-figo-no-kami, and those of Kiyo-ma,sa, of Foukousima-sayemon-no-tayou-masa-nori, and of Firaïva-kasi-no-kami-tcheka-yosi had been confiscated for some reason unknown. Yosi-moune, with a view to repair this injustice, granted a revenue of five hundred kokf to the heir of Kato-o-kiyo-masa, and three hundred to each of the two others.

Ever since the time of Tsouna-yosi, a fondness for dress and luxuries had crept into the nation, and even infected those professions which might naturally be expected to be most exempt from it. The very soldiers were seen to paint ​their faces, stain their lips red, and dress like women. Yosi-moune, on his accession to the throne, expressed his indignation at such effeminacy; he issued the most rigid orders that the soldiers should be trained, as they had formerly been, to bodily exercises, which render them active and robust. At the command of the prince, the men assiduously practised all the exercises which they had heretofore neglected; and what had not been known before his reign, a great number of them soon acquired the greatest dexterity both in shooting at a mark with a bow and arrow while riding at full gallop, in defending themselves with the pike against five or six antagonists, and fencing with the sabre against twenty persons. Among the archers there were some who would shoot a hundred times at a mark without once missing. The Djogoun also obliged the persons of his retinue to practise swimming and diving, which had in like manner fallen into disuse since the reign of Tsouna-yosi; because, in his time, the men were wholly engaged in dress, and had become so effeminate as to complain that exposure to the sun on comng out of the water rendered their skin brown and coarse. Yosi-moune brought this wholesome exercise again into vogue, at the beginning of the year Kio-fo (1716). He went occasionally and encouraged the swimmers by his presence. Before his time, if a swimmer crossed the river Asakousa-gawa, which is upwards of one hundred and twenty ikie, or eight hundred and forty feet broad, he was extolled as a prodigy. During his reign Yamamoto-tesayemon swam over it thirty-six times successively, and a certain Awasou-kintarou was seen to cross it, keeping the whole of his body above the navel out of the water. In the sequel the Djogoun made a point of going every year on the fifteenth of the fourth month to judge in person of the progress of the swimmers, and to confer rewards on such as distinguished themselves. In short, dexterity in gymnastic exercises was found to be the surest way to military promotion.

Yosi-moune was likewise liberal of rewards to such of his subjects as successfully cultivated the arts and sciences. Oya-djosits, the younger brother of Oyou-soyemon excelled in his acquaintance with Chinese literature; Foyosi-siro-tayou in writing; Igai-i-bounsero and Nisigava-tchousero in astronomy; and Magaï-magozitsero in arithmetic. The prince assigned to them fixed salaries by way of reward.

Matsoura-yosiro enjoyed an income of four hundred kokf, when he was ​appointed inspector to the Taïsi, or hereditary prince. This office he filled but a short time, his extensive knowledge having caused him to be speedily promoted to the post of governor of Osaka, by the name of Matsoura-kavatche-no-kami. In this place he distinguished himself by his wise administration of justice. Anecdotes are recorded of him, which do honour to his prudence and integrity, and among others the following:

A usurer named Tomoya-kiougero, residing at Osaka, near the bridge of Korea-Basi, one day missed five hundred kobans. As he had not seen any person enter the house, he suspected that the robbery had been committed by one of his servants. He interrogated them all one after another, but could draw nothing from them. Suspicion, however, fell upon Tchoudjets, one of their number; his fellow-servants, as well as his master, had no doubt that he was the rogue. He was questioned still more closely, but persisted in his denial, and nothing was found by which he could be convicted. His master represented to him, that if he would not confess, the matter should be submitted to the governor, and if he were found guilty, he might expect to be most severely punished. This threat having produced no effect, Tomoya repaired to the governor, accusing Tchoudjets of having robbed him, and demanding that strict inquiry might be made into the affair, and the culprit punished, as he deserved. The governor promised to comply. He sent for Tchoudjets and examined him. He again protested his innocence, adding, that were he even exposed to the most excruciating tortures, they should not make him confess a crime which he had not committed. Kavatche sent him to prison, and having summoned Tomoya and his people, communicated to them the result of the examination, and the answer of Tchoudjets. He then inquired if they had any evidence of the crime. Tomoya replied in the negative, adding that neither he nor his family had any doubt on the subject; and, that moreover the fellow was an arrant scoundrel, from whom the most cruel punishments would not extort confession. Kavatche again asked if they persisted in accusing the man, and if they were willing to confirm the charge by a writing signed by them all, assuring them that, in this case, he would order the culprit to be beheaded. They signified their readiness to subscribe such a paper, on which it was drawn up in these terms:

“Tchoudjets, servant to Tomoya, has robbed his master of five hundred ​kobans. This we attest by these presents, and we demand that, by way of example, he be punished with death. We, the servants and relatives of Tomoya-kiougero have confirmed this writing, by affixing to it our signatures and our seals.

“The second month of the first year Gen-boun (1736).”

Kavatche-no-kami took the paper, and said to Tomoya: “Now that I am released from my responsibility, I will go and order Tchoudjets’ head to be cut off. Art thou satisfied?” “Yes,” replied Tomoya; and, after thanking the governor, and again declaring that he was perfectly satisfied, he retired.

Meanwhile a robber, apprehended near the temple of Ten-ma, having been put to the torture, confessed that it was he who had stolen the five hundred kobans from the house of Tomoya. Kavatche, on receiving this intelligence, summoned Tomoya and all his people before him, and asked why they had accused Tchoudjets in writing, and without proofs. He informed them of the apprehension of the thief, and the confession which he had made amidst his torments, and then added: “Upon your declaration I have caused an innocent man to be put to death: as an atonement for this crime, thyself, thy wife, and thy people shall all be beheaded; and as for me, I will rip myself up as a punishment for not having investigated this business with greater care.” They were all thunderstruck at this dreadful denunciation. The magistrates and officers solicited pardon for the culprits; but Kavatche assuming a stern look, replied, that prayers were useless, and that the more they strove to excuse them, the more they aggravated their guilt. The poor wretches then began to weep, and to deplore their fate. Kavatche who wished to give them such a lesson as they should never forget, left them for some time in the most agonizing distress. At length―“Be of good cheer,” said he to them; “the answers of Tchoudjets led me to believe that he was not guilty. I kept him in concealment, hoping that some unforeseen circumstance would bring his innocence to light. Sincerely do I rejoice that the event has justified my precaution.” He then ordered Tchoudjets to be brought in. “Tomoya,” said he, “here is an innocent man whom thy false accusations have loner detained in prison, and exposed to the danger of capital punishment. Since this misfortune has not happened, I spare thy life; but thou owest some indemnification to this poor ​fellow for what he has suffered on thy account. Give him then five hundred kobans, and treat him henceforward as a faithful servant.”

When the Djogoun was informed of this decision, he publicly expressed his satisfaction with it, praised the equity of Kavatche, and said, it were to be wished that he had every where such governors. Soon afterwards he appointed him inspector of the chamber of accounts and governor of Nangasaki, where his memory is still venerated. This man, so distinguished for integrity and extraordinary talents, was, nevertheless, disgraced during the reign of Yee-sige, son of Yosi-moune, who stripped him of his offices, and ordered him under arrest; but the virtue of Kavatche was too exalted for him to be cast down by so unmerited a disgrace.

Considerable sums had been stolen from the castle of Osaka. Nose-sinsero, the inspector, repaired thither to make inquiry into the matter; he found that a small box of a thousand kobans was missing from the chest in which the gold was kept. The chest, lock, and seal, were uninjured; the seal was that of Kavarazebi, the treasurer, and, as he alone could have opened the chest without breaking it, suspicion fell upon him and his two associates. They were all three apprehended and examined; but they denied any knowledge of the affair, and no traces of the thief could be discovered. Avoyama-tsioubi and Noma-kakoube, inspectors of the household, were sent in consequence, from Yedo to Osaka, to make fresh researches, which at first were attended with no better success than the former.

Avoyama at length devised an expedient which had the desired effect. He sent agents to all suspicious houses, to the places of debauchery, and to the taverns, with directions to make inquiry concerning all persons who should there incur expenses beyond their means: Tomonya-grobe, who kept the house Daïkokiya, in the square of Ten-ma, called upon the governor, and informed him that a person of mean appearance, and who, as he believed, had no other source of income than some petty place, came every day to his house to visit a woman, named Otone, on whom he spent a great deal of money; adding, that he had a bad opinion of this man, and had thought it his duty to report to him ​accordingly. Kavatche and Avoyama commended his prudence, and dismissed him, enjoining secrecy, and promising to ascertain, without loss of time, whether there was any ground for his suspicions. Noma-kakoube repaired in consequence to Ten-ma, accompanied by several soldiers. Here they found the person in question, who appeared to them to be a very suspicious character. They secured and bound him, and led him away to the governor’s palace. Here he was interrogated by Kavatche-no-kami; he pretended to know nothing of the matter; but as he contradicted himself in his answers, he was put to the torture, and pain compelled him to confess his guilt. He declared that he was a servant to the keeper of the castle of Osaka, that he had long sought an opportunity of appropriating to himself the money in the chest, which he had at length found and seized. He did not, however, disclose the means which he had employed to open the chest, without breaking the seal.

Kavatche sent for Otone, and examined her respecting her connexion with the culprit. She was incapable of throwing any light on the circumstances of the robbery, but merely deposed, that the thief frequently came to drink zakki with her; that he gave her robes and jewels; that he had presented her among other things with two small figures made by Fakeda, for which he said that he had paid one hundred kobans. These two figures, one of which represented a young lady, and the other a servant holding a parasol, were so contrived, that when made to float in a bowl of zakki, the servant would open the parasol and follow his mistress, who went first. When the affair had been thoroughly investigated, the criminal was beheaded, and Kavarazebi removed from his situation. Nose-sinsero and the two other inspectors returned to Yedo. To the former were given two robes with the arms of the Djogoun, and three obangs. This reward was announced to him by Fonda-nakasouka-san-no-tayou, in presence of all the counsellors of state, ordinary and extraordinary. Avoyama-tsioubi and Noma-kaboube had each ten ingots of silver, which remuneration was announced to them by Fonda-iyo-no-kami, without any ceremony^[28].

​The author of the manuscript has thought fit to proceed with the history of Otone, and thus relates her tragic end. She had lived a long time with Sakaki-kama-siro-taro, the comedian, to whom she was strongly attached. After spending a great deal of money upon her, he secretly married the widow of Kame-sousero, the comedian. Being determined to part from Otone, he was at a loss in what manner to acquaint her with his resolution. At length he pretended that he had lost all his money at play, and had been obliged to pawn his things. At the same time he requested her to lend him twenty kobans, hoping that she would not have it in her power, and that he might make this a pretext for breaking with her: but she suspected his design, borrowed the money and gave it to him, together with ten more kobans, for which he had also asked her, so that he durst not inform her of his marriage. It was not long, however, before she heard of it; when, without reproaching him for his inconstancy, she sold her clothes and all that she possessed to raise the sum she had borrowed, and to pay her debt. This done, she hanged herself in Tomonya-grobe’s great room. This event happened in the years Gen-boun. Among the effects that she sold were the two small figures above-mentioned, for which she obtained but six kobans. They now belong to the wife of Toyo-taki, the physician.

A certain Nioura-grosayemon, living in the square of Asakousa, was reputed to be the brother of Nioura-serosayemon, who kept a brothel at Yosnara. He was extremely devout, and went every day to pray in the temple of Asakousa-dera. At the end of about three thousand days in the years Gen-boun (1736–40), the god blessed him with a daughter of exquisite beauty, who was in the sequel a servant in the palace of the hereditary prince. Here she lived at first unknown; but the prince saw and became enamoured of her; he had a son by her who was named Mansiero-sama. Apartments were then assigned to her in the palace, and she was treated with great respect by all the officers of the prince. Grosayemon was taken into the service of the Djogoun. He received a salary of five hundred kokf, and a large house situated in the Bantchou street was allotted for his residence.

Dayou-in, or Yeye-mitsou, had set a similar example. In his time a female ​of extraordinary beauty, named Kasouga-no-tsoubone, had presented a petition, praying that the brothers of those women who enjoyed the honour of lying with the Djogoun, should be admitted among his officers, and her request was complied with. The other officers who owed their rank to their personal bravery and good conduct, refused to serve with these new-comers: nay, some of them had the boldness to declare, that the brothers of concubines were not worthy to cross sabres with theirs. The Djogoun, to obviate the effects of this discontent, formed the new officers into a distinct corps, by the appellation of Singo-ban, or the new guard.

Grosayemon was a brave man; he was admitted without solicitation into the new guard, and this promotion he attributed to the favour of the god Asakousa. On the left of the temple of that deity is a cistern dedicated to him by Grosayemon, on which are engraved these words: Rin-sin-ko-sin.

Kogoro, eldest son of Fokfkawa-kioboutcho, younger brother of Yee-sige, the hereditary prince, was, through the mediation of Yosi-moune, adopted by the prince of Yetchezen^[29], who had no children, on which he changed his name to Ogi-maro. Yetchezen was related to the Djogoun, and he consented to adopt the young prince, with a view to attach him more strongly to himself, and for fear the family should become too numerous if he adopted the son of any other house.

Yosi-moune made a present of five mankokf to Matsdaïra-yetchezen-no-kami. He was the descendant of a powerful prince, but had been stripped of his possessions and exiled to Boungo^[30], as a punishment for maleadministration and for cruelty to his servants, several of whom had been put to death by his command, together with their wives and children.

Yee-sige had another brother named Moune-kore-ouyemon-no-kami, a man of sound understanding, who cultivated the sciences, and eagerly sought after every thing calculated to excite curiosity. He had married the daughter of one of the officers of the Daïri, named Konoye-dono. If is said, that when ​Yee-sige ascended the throne, Ouyemon, regarding him as incapable, from ignorance, to govern the empire, drew up a paper in which he laid before him a sketch of his duties, and gave him advice respecting his future conduct. Yee-sige was so incensed at this liberty, that he kept Ouyemon in confinement for three years. Konoye-Dono, having meanwhile come to Yedo, was not permitted to speak either to his son-in-law or to his daughter. It was never known what was the nature of the advice which so highly displeased the Djogoun.

Kano-totomi-no-kami, Ogasavara-inami-no-kami, and Sibouya-tsoumi-no-kami, were the three officers of Yosi-moune, in whom he placed the greatest confidence. They all possessed a good understanding, a noble and benevolent disposition, and tried integrity. The people of Japan therefore declare, that they were never so happy as in their time. Mats-sousita-sinski was also in high favour with this prince, and he deserved it for his modesty, zeal, and beneficence.

The same praise cannot be given to Okoubo-ize-no-kami, one of the confidential servants of Yee-sige. He was arrogant, a spendthrift, and debauchee. He threw every thing into disorder, and no one durst reproach him for his conduct, because he was uncle to Yee-sige. Yosi-moune being informed of the manner in which he abused his favour, dismissed him from his post. Yee-sige had a real friend in O-oka-isoumo-no-kami; indulgent and ever ready to excuse the faults of others, he followed in all points the example of the three favourites above-mentioned. Hence the following verses were made on him after his death:

—“There is no god like Isoumo,” &c. The poet adds, that it is superfluous to speak of all the good qualities of Isoumo. “We have all witnessed them,” says he; “and we pay with our tears a tribute of gratitude to his memory.”

​Djoyen-in, mother of Yosi-moune, resided at Waka-yama, in the province of Kidjo. When that prince had ascended the throne, he removed her to Yedo, where she died in the years Kio-fo (1716–1735). She was buried near the temple of Rak-zeï-san. As she expired on the 9th day of the month, it was determined that a counsellor of state in ordinary should repair on the 9th of every month to the temple, to perform devotions there in the name of the Djogoun.

Yoseï-in, mother of the prince of Mito, was accustomed when she went abroad to wear a sabre, which the people denominated Ame-kouni (from ame rain, and kouni country,) because, according to tradition, it never failed to rain when she wore it. She was grand-daughter of Sioken-in, or Tsouna-yosi, and was thus related to one of the prime ministers of the Daïri, the Kouambak Tenka-konoye-dono. Her grandfather Tsouna-yosi, Konoye-dono, and the prince of Mito, having died at very short intervals one after another, in the sixth year Fo-ye (1709); she was deeply afflicted, and in her distress composed these verses:

—“Our misfortunes follow one another like the links of a chain. Though my garments are moistened with my tears, my eyes are incessantly filled afresh with them.”

Wako-in, mother of Yousou-in, or Yee-tsougou, resided at Tooki-aye, within the gate of Fanso-go-mon. One day, walking in one of the galleries, whence she could see all who passed by, she observed several poor wretches almost naked, though the cold was then very intense. Filled with compassion, she immediately sent them garments wherewith to clothe themselves. The news of her bounty having quickly spread, great numbers of indigent persons collected from all quarters before her house, and she ordered clothing to be distributed among them also. Soon afterwards those whom she had first clothed returned naked as before; she recognised them, and having caused inquiries to be made, she learned, that they had lost their garments at play. ​The indignation excited by their conduct closed her hands, which compassion had previously kept open for the relief of the unfortunate.

The premature death of the wife of Yee-sige, who was called in her life-time Namino-miya-sama, and afterwards Siomeï-in, was profoundly regretted. She was interred near the temple of Toyesan. One day, toward the conclusion of the years Kio-fo^[31], she was going with a grand escort to the banks of the river Soumida-gava (at Yedo), when the ordinary and extraordinary counsellors by way of paying court to her, ordered the intendant to plant flowers all along the river. Yosi-moune was not pleased with this attention. “Women,” said he, on this occasion, “are like children. If they see flowers on the banks of a river in winter, they imagine that there must be flowers there in every season, though they are really to be seen in spring alone; and, when they afterwards find themselves mistaken, this disappointment makes them angry and fretful.”

Namino-miya-sama was the daughter of the Daïri; she was brought from Miyako to Yedo to marry Yee-sige, with whom she lived very unhappily. On this subject she composed the following verses:

―“Never did I conceive the idea of marrying the Djogoun. Since this union I am cut off from the privilege of going abroad. Miyako is ever present to my thoughts, and if I perceive any object that reminds me of it, my sorrows are aggravated.”

Here follows a list of the valuables kept in the Gingoua, or guard-room within the palace. They consist chiefly of weapons, which are carefully preserved in memory of the princes to whom they once belonged.

​This room is decorated all round with pictures, representing lions, whence it derives the name of Zizi-no-ma, or hall of lions. The floor is covered with ninety mats, each six feet long and three wide. Here are deposited:

1. A pike in the form of a cross, which is always carried in the train of the Djogoun, when he leaves the palace. It was made in the province of Bizen^[32], by Naga-tsougou, in the third year Ten-sio (1575); it is mounted in silver, and upon it are engraved the arms which the Daïri, Kikou-e-kiri, gave to Taiko, and which the latter presented to Gongin.

2. Two sharp-pointed pikes, which are likewise carried after the Djogoun. It is not known by whom they were made. The family arms of the Djogoun are engraved upon them.

3. A pike with a sheath of tigers’ skin, formerly belonging to Tienseï-no-fatsiro-tame-tomo, one of the ancestors of the princes of Lukueo^[33], who are of Japanese extraction. The eldest son always has the title of Fatsiro. This pike is never removed from the palace, and is used only at extraordinary ceremonies.

4. A sabre, the hilt of which is enriched with mother-of-pearl. It has never been taken out of the palace since Dayou-in or Yeye-mitsou used it in hunting, to cleave a wild boar in two.

5. The norimon, palanquin, or litter, of Dayou-in, called noda kago, or mailed chair, because it will turn a musket-ball. It was made by Okada-kouyemon. It is kept in the Kouragari-no-ma, or dark closet. All these things are in the care of persons of the Djogoun’s retinue.

In the spring of the first year Gen-boun (1736), it was announced that Oko, one of the ladies of the household of Siomeï-in, was pregnant by Yee-sige, who was then only heir-apparent, and who, by the name of Daïnagon-sama, resided at the palace of Nisi-no-marou. Yosi-moune was overjoyed at the news, and ordered public prayers to be put up for her happy delivery. On the 11th of ​the fifth month of the second year Gen-boun (1737), Oko gave birth to a son, which event was celebrated with great rejoicings.

Matsdaïra-sakon-no-kami, chief counsellor of state in ordinary, discharged the arrow fikime^[34]; it was brought back by his son, Matsdaïra-isoumi-no-kami. The child^[35] was suckled after his birth by the wife of Matsdaïra-fitzen-no-kami^[36]. Sakaï-outa-no-kami, prince of Fimesi, made him a present of a sabre. The whole court was intoxicated with joy. Yosi-moune, enchanted with the birth of a grandson, immediately repaired to the palace of Nisi-no-marou, where all the princes, and even all his servants, were admitted to pay him their congratulations. The seventh day after the birth of the infant, it was publicly announced in the city, that all persons possessing an income of three thousand kokf might offer garments, zakki, and fish, and that their donations would be accepted.

Ino-kamon-no-kami, prince of Omi, and Sakai-outa-no-kami, prince of Fimesi, solicited Yosi-moune to permit the name of Take-tcheyo, which Gongin had borne in his youth, to be given to the infant. He at first refused, alleging that it was impossible to foresee how the child would turn out, and that if he proved himselt unworthy of the name, disgrace would be reflected on Gongin. Matsdaïra-sokon-no-siogin, Matsdaïra-isou-no-kami, Fonda-nakatskasa-no-tayou, ​and Tokifango-no-kami, having, however, joined the others in their solicitations to the Djogoun, he at length consented. On this occasion Sagi-niyemon sung as follows:―

—“The knots of bamboo (take) are all at equal distances from one another: years and ages roll away without producing any alteration in this arrangement. Thus our happiness will be eternal.”

Orders were issued throughout the whole empire, forbidding all persons whatever to give to their children the name of take, or bamboo.

The reigning prince of Mito was only eleven years old when he made his first appearance at court, accompanied by Matsdaïra-sokon-no-siogin, chief counsellor of state in ordinary, who led him by the hand, and pointing to the place where he was to sit when the Djogoun entered, recommended to him to lay his fan upon the mat, instead of holding it in his hand. He then told him circumstantially how he ought to conduct himself. On his repeating these instructions, the young prince replied: “It will be time enough to lay down my fan when the Djogoun comes; respect cannot require me to do it before. Give me then, I pray, more reasonable directions.” Sokon-no-siogin was struck with this remark, which indicated what Mito promised to become. When Yosi-moune was informed of it, he congratulated himself on having in his family a child, who, at so early an age, afforded such proofs of discernment.

Matsdaïra-no-koti-yo, prince of Isoumo, and father-in-law of Koutsouki-oki-no-kami Minamotto-no-masa-tsouna, was likewise but eleven years old when ​he was admitted for the first time at the palace to pay his respects to Yosi-moune. The Djogoun offered him zakki in a bowl, which the cup-bearer filled to the brim. The young prince was exceedingly embarrassed, being apprehensive of making himself ill if he drank the whole, and not daring, out of respect, to throw down the zakki which the Djogoun had offered him. Yosi-moune perceiving his perplexity, told him he had better throw away the zakki than incommode himself with drinking it. The cup-bearer having accordingly brought a vessel to receive the liquor, Koti-ye raised the bowl to his lips, drank a little, and poured the rest into his sleeve, saying that he should deem himself deficient in the respect due to the Djogoun, if he were to throw away what he derived from his bounty. This act was highly applauded. Koti-ye possessed magnanimity; he subsequently distinguished himself in the military profession. His contempt of riches equalled his love of the arts and sciences, and especially of painting, which he successfully cultivated. When he mixed his colours, he had a custom of trying them on the sleeve of his shirt, which he was in consequence obliged to change very often.

Inaba-yetchou-no-kami, at present one of the life-guards of the Djogoun, was placed, at the age of eleven years, about the person of the hereditary prince, who was rather younger than himself. One day, when the two boys were playing together, Tokfkawa-gioboutcho, uncle to the reigning Djogoun, Yee-farou, and grandfather of the present heir-apparent, went to the palace of Nisi-no-marou, and addressing himself to Yetchou-no-kami, inquired very sharply how old he was. The boy disliking the tone of this interrogation, would not reply, though the question was several times repeated. Tokfkawa urged him to speak, on which, contemptuously turning away his head, he said:—“I am not in his service—what right has he to talk to me like a master? I am here to keep the young prince company. The Djogoun some years since issued written orders, directing that his uncles and brothers should be considered merely as princes. When this man talks to me in so harsh a tone, ​without my having given him any occasion, I need not, and will not answer him.”

The hereditary prince, Fake-djeyo, when young, was not deficient in understanding, and wrote a very good hand. Yosi-moune having one clay desired him to write in large letters in his presence, he dipped his pencil, and made the letter rio (the Chinese lung) from one end of the paper to the other, so that no room was left for the dot. When Yosi-moune remarked this circumstance to him, he placed the dot on the mat, which drew a laugh from the Djogoun and all the spectators.

Another day, he went to the temple of Asakousa, on one of the gates of which is represented Kami-nari, the god of thunder, and on the other Kase-no-kami, the god of the winds. Fake-djeyo asked the priest why the god of thunder had no nipples. The priest knew not what to say. In this manner he took delight in puzzling with his questions those with whom he conversed: but his understanding declined with years, and at present he is little better than a child.

Kano-gorosabro, after having been chamberlain to the Djogoun, and keeper of his wardrobe, as well as of his private chest, had become treasurer of the chamber of accounts, by the name of Kano-wakassa-no-kami. One day, when he had gone to the temple of Niko, to take a general inventory there, he was shown a gold bell, made in the shape of a shark, which was much damaged on one side: he, therefore, ordered it to be turned, that the other side, which was in good condition, might be used. The priests, who had already applied to the Djogoun, soliciting him to give orders for the repair of the hell, replied that such a proceeding would be an insult to the memory of Gongin. They also exhibited to Wakassa some gold cups, employed in the funeral ceremonies in honour of that prince, and which had likewise sustained injury from the lapse of time, requesting him to order new ones to be bought. Wakassa replied, that they would be too expensive, and that it would be more economical to have the old ones repaired and new varnished. ​Fatori-yamato-no-kami, governor of Niko, was decidedly adverse to this proposal, observing, that the expense of new cups would not be considerable; and declaring, that if the old ones were merely repaired, he should think it his duty, as long as he held the post of governor, to abstain, out of respect for Gongin, from using them in the ceremonies in honour of that prince. Wakassa was embarrassed, but cut the matter short by declaring, that such was the pleasure of the Djogoun. The governor replied that he was certainly bound to obey; but that for his own part he was determined not to use the old cups again.

Misi-no-sioubi, one of the Oyori-yaï, that is, one of the persons appointed to attend the ambassadors of the Daïri, had the reputation of being very skilful in wrestling. Yosi-moune being informed of it, made him captain of the Fiak-nin-ban, or guard of one hundred men, and afterwards of the Okosio-goumi, or guard of the apartments. The latter are of superior rank to the former, and are distinguished by the colour of their dress. When he was promoted to the rank of captain, he took the name of Yamassiro-no-kami, and thenceforward exercised his men every day. His attention to this point obtained general approbation.

One day, when the Djogoun was amusing himself with dancing, one of the counsellors of state ordered the captains of the guard to inquire if any of the men under their command understood music. Yamassiro replied: “My men are all skilful in military exercises, as their profession requires, but none of them excels in music.” This answer was universally applauded.

When the Djogoun goes out a-shooting, he is always accompanied by some of the guards of his apartments. These men may indeed claim exemption from this duty, if they have killed a bird with an arrow. Fane-kingero had not yet been so lucky, though he had often attended the prince on these occasions; he was overcome with shame, and his friends were much distressed on his account. Yosi-moune took him once more with him on a shooting-party ​to Megouro; but he was as unsuccessful as ever, and was the more mortified, as he was afraid that his awkwardness might cost him his life, or at least his place. The Djogoun, on their return to the palace, perceived under the new bridge, near the gate of the Tiger, a great quantity of carp. He ordered Kingero to shoot one. Kingero discharged an arrow, and having killed a carp, presented it to the Djogoun. He was complimented upon this feat by the whole retinue of the prince. It was conjectured that the Djogoun was desirous, by way of conferring a particular favour, to afford him an opportunity of retrieving his character; for the number of the carp was so great, that it would have been difficult not to hit one of them.

One of the soldiers who form the usual escort of the Djogoun, and who had that day, according to custom, to carry his sabre in a wooden box on his shoulder, had the misfortune to fall. The inspector reported the accident to the Djogoun, and asked what punishment should be inflicted on the soldier. “How can he have deserved punishment,” replied the monarch, “since, notwithstanding his fall, and though he has hurt himself, he never suffered the box to drop from his shoulder?”

Matsdaïra-iga-no-kami, grand judge of Miyako, was intimately connected with several of the Daïri’s officers, for which reason he was disliked by those of the Djogoun. One day, when the Daïri and his court were amusing themselves with reading the Ize-monogatari, a work written by Ariba-no-nari, and distinguished for the purity and elegance or its style, a courtier, notorious for debauchery and his inordinate passion for women, expressed a wish that he possessed the genius of the author. “You possess genius!” cried Iga-no-kami, who was present; “do you suppose that genius can be associated with such manners as yours? It were to be wished that all courtiers like you, were, as a punishment for their licentiousness, to be sent bound to Yedo, and obliged to put an end to their lives.” Yosi-moune being informed of this answer, was delighted with it, and conceived such a high esteem for Iga-no-kami, that he afterwards appointed him counsellor of state in ordinary.

​There was a considerable fire at Miyako while Toki-tango-no-kami held the office of grand judge there. On this occasion a courtier, named Kaze-faya, made the following verses:―

—“Such is the time at present: a fire broke out in the fifth night of the fifth month. When the news shall have reached Yedo, there will be numberless applicants who will harass you without ceasing.”

A few years afterwards there was another fire at the court of the Daïri, who was obliged to retire to Ivakoura, accompanied by Kaze-fayo-deno and Simisou-dani-seïcho. The latter made these verses:―

—“Whenever I hear a violent wind, I dread the breaking out of a fire while it blows.”

His companion immediately replied in these verses:―

―“Were it even in a valley, watered by a running stream, every thing would be consumed.”

In this manner they mutually alluded to their names^[38]. The Daïri, whose courtiers cultivate poetry, and study to display their wit, applauded this prompt reply.

Toki-tango-no-kami became in the sequel counsellor of state in ordinary. One day, while sitting at the palace, in the hall of Pendulums, with his colleagues, he asked Matsdaïra-iga-no-kami, why the counsellors of state made their porters carry them along in their chairs with such speed? “If,” replied ​he, “we were to let them proceed slowly to the palace, we should be overwhelmed with applicants.” “I am not satisfied,” rejoined Tango, “with this answer; for it is our duty to listen to all those who have business with us. If we will not hear them we ought to resign our situations. For my part, I shall henceforth order my people to go more slowly, that all who need my assistance may have an opportunity of accosting me.” Matsdaïra-sogon-no-siogin then assigned this reason, with which he was better satisfied. “If,” said he, “any unforeseen circumstance should, as it very possibly might, render it necessary to summon us suddenly to the palace, the people, remarking our extraordinary haste in repairing thither, would immediately be alarmed, and infer that some great misfortune had happened. It is to prevent this inconvenience that, agreeably to the commands of the Djogoun， we are always to repair to the palace with the utmost dispatch.”

The son of Tani-sioube obtained an inconsiderable post at the palace. The following anecdote reflects honour on the courage and filial affection of this young man:―

Tani-sioube had lent large sums of money to various tradesmen and others, among whom was Banrokou-saïmon. The latter being unable to fulfil his engagements, when the time fixed for payment arrived, could not devise any other expedient to extricate himself from the dilemma, than to repair to the governor and make declaration that he had lost his djap or seal, and to apply for another, to prevent any improper use of the first by the person into whose hands it might have fallen. Provided with his new seal, he waited for Tani-sioube, who did not fail to present his bill on the day when it became due. Banrokou with affected astonishment, denied that he had ever borrowed money of him, and even preferred a complaint to Isiki-tosa-no-kami, governor of Yedo, praying him to investigate the matter. The governor ordered both of them to appear before him, compared the bill with Banrokou-saïmon’s seal, and finding a great difference between them, inquired whether the seal upon the bill was his. “It is my old seal,” replied he, “which I lost in the seventh month of the last year, and the bill is dated in the eighth month.” Sioube was declared guilty of having used the seal of another in making a false bill, and sentenced to lose his head.

​Siousabro, then twenty-one years of age, convinced of his father’s innocence, exasperated at his unjust death, and desirous of paying the last duties to his remains, secretly repaired at night to the place of execution, picked up the head of his father, and, melting into tears, wrapped it in a cloth, which he had brought for the purpose. Before he had time to retire, he was surprised by two persons who kept watch there; he drew his sabre, fought bravely, and obliged his assailants to betake themselves to flight. Having escaped this danger, he immediately proceeded to the temple of Bou-sio-si, in the square of Ousigome-sitsikinski-matche, asked for the priest, made him a present, and delivered to him the head of his father, requesting him to inter it. The priest, having inquired into the circumstances of the case, would at first have declined rendering him this service, for fear of the unpleasant consequences that might result if the matter were discovered; but at length, moved by the filial piety of Siousabro, he complied with his solicitations, and caused the head of Sioube to be interred. The young man, having thus paid the last duties to his father, turned all his thoughts to the revenging of his death upon him by whom it was occasioned.

The hereditary prince, Yee-sige, went sometimes to take the diversion of hunting to the distance of several miles from the palace of Osouga. In these parties of pleasure, which usually lasted some days, the counsellors of state followed the prince, and stopping at the distance of two miles, formed a kind of circle round him, and provided for his safety. Banrokou-saïmon having been directed to attend one of these parties, Siousabro conceived that he had found the opportunity which he sought. He hid in a bamboo one of those sabres which are twenty-three inches long, and are called, after the maker, Bizen-kouni-miets. Disguised like one of the lowest class of the people, to avoid being noticed, he awaited the favourable moment.

On the 25th of the 12th month of the second year Gen-boun (1737), Banrokou-saïmon having left his house at day-break to attend his duty, Siousabro, who was concealed in a thicket of bamboos, near the bridge of Yagoro-basi, saw him pass, preceded by a little boy carrying a lantern. He ran up, threw himself unexpectedly in the way of his enemy, and thus addressed him: “Thou undoubtedly rememberest Tani-sioube, who fell a victim to thine artifices: in me thou beholdest his son and thy bitterest enemy. Thou knowest ​the proverb; A man ought not to live in the world with the enemy of his father. Every day appeared to me an age in the impatience which I felt to meet with thee; this day is the happiest of my life: now defend thyself.” With these words he took his sabre from the bamboo and attacked Banrokou. The victory remained for some time undecided. Siousabro at length laid his adversary at his feet, cut off his head, and lifting it with both hands, raised it in silence toward heaven, thus offering it to the manes of his father, as a testimony of his revenge.

No sooner had Banrokou-saïmon fallen, than a man, issuing from the thicket, ran up, and perceiving that Siousabro was alarmed, bade him be of good cheer. “My name,” added he, “is Takake-kinnemon; I was well acquainted with the man whom you have killed; I know what instigated you to this action; I witnessed your combat, and cannot blame you for having revenged your father: but now that you have performed this duty, permit me to give you a piece of advice, which will be not less serviceable to you than to the family of my unfortunate friend. If you do not take the precaution to conceal the body from public view, you will not be able to escape the search that will be made after the murderer, and your life will pay for the violation of the laws. Take my advice; put the body into a straw-sack; carry it to the wife and children of Banrokou-saïmon; explain to them the necessity of keeping secret what has passed; tell them to give out that the wretched man died of disease, for if it be known that he was slain in single combat, his son will not be allowed to succeed him in his post. In this manner you will preserve your own place and your life.”

Siousabro followed this friendly advice; he carried the body to the house of the deceased, and deliberated with his wife and son on the best course to be pursued. It was agreed, that the son should report that his father, when in attendance on the hereditary prince, had contracted an illness which had obliged him to return home, where he had died.

On the decease of any of the Djogoun’s servants, the counsellor of state who receives information of it, sends one of his agents to ascertain whether he died of disease or fell in a duel. Luckily Takake-kinnemon was the person to whom the extraordinary counsellor of state, Fonda-nakato-kasa-no-tayou, gave this commission. This deputy did not fail to confirm a report which had ​been made agreeably to his own advice; the body was consequently interred, and Baniokou-saïmon’s son was invested with his father’s office.

This affair seemed to have been long forgotten, when various rumours, circulated in the palace, called the attention of the counsellor of state afresh to the subject. He summoned Takake-kinnemon, whom he questioned, and received the same answer as before: but doubting the truth of his account, he sent for the high priest of the temple of Zofokousi, named Nitsisio-no-djonin, who had attended at the house of the deceased previously to the interment, and requested him to declare what he knew. The priest replied that it was his duty when fetched to a corpse, to ascertain whether the deceased had died of disease or in a duel, and to make a report to one of the inspectors of the temple, for the purpose of obtaining an order for the interment if it were to take place there; and, that the body of Banrokou-saïmon, being free from any wound, had been buried immediately. The same rumours being again revived the counsellor of state once more summoned the priest before him, and insisted on knowing the truth, threatening at the same time to order the grave to be opened. The priest replied, that he might do so if he pleased, but if he did he would be never the wiser, as the body had been burned. The counsellor of state then required a written declaration, which he made him sign and seal, for the purpose of submitting it to the Djogoun; and thus the matter ended. It appears that the counsellor of state was acquainted with all the particulars; but, as it was his duty to make inquiry on the subject, he demanded this paper to cover his responsibility. The two sons of Tani-sioube were still living when the author of this narrative committed it to writing.

Among the officers of the Djogoun there was one named Itakoura-djouri, who had an income of seven thousand kokf^[39], and was obliged to commit suicide. The particulars of this tragic adventure are curious; they serve moreover to convey some idea of the manners of the Japanese, of the superstitious spirit of the higher classes, and of the despotism of a government which pronounces sentence of death without the formality of trial.

​Itakoura-djouri was a descendant of Souva-no-kami, chief judge of Miyako, whose brother, Itakoura-naïzen, was an ordinary counsellor of state. His father was, like his ancestors, an officer of the Djogoun, and he succeeded him in the twelfth month of the first year Gen-boun (1739). About this time he was attacked by a dangerous illness, which alarmed his relations, who assembled to consult respecting the state of his health. A skilful physician undertook his cure, and the patient grew better from day to day. After his recovery he married the daughter of Tatebayasi-min-bou-no-djo, a woman of superior understanding, and who paid particular attention to her domestic concerns.

But whether the medicines administered to Djouri during his illness impaired his reason, or the ginseng root which he was in the habit of taking affected his brain, be became subject to paroxysms of insanity in which he knew not what he did. Mayesima-linnemon, his chief secretary, who was sincerely attached to his interest and that of his family, and fearful lest in his fits he might commit some act of violence in the palace, for which he would be infallibly doomed to lose his employment, and to have his revenues confiscated, represented to him that the most prudent course he could pursue would be to resign his post, and to live in retirement; more especially since, possessing as he did, an income of more than three thousand kokf, he was entitled to the rank of prince. He added, that as he had no child of his own, he ought to adopt one, and that his kinsman Itakoura-sado-no-kami, who had several, would not refuse to give him one of his sons, worthy of supporting the splendour of his house. Djouri, instead of adopting these wise suggestions, flew into a vehement passion, and could scarcely be restrained from laying violent hands on Linnemon. He dismissed him, however, from his service, threatening to kill him whenever he should meet him.

Linnemon, finding that his counsel was rejected, went and complained of it to Djouri’s wife, and having assembled all his master’s relations, informed them of what had just happened, and of the ill success of his zeal for preserving to their house the income of seven thousand kokf, adding that Djouri, so far from thanking him for it, threatened his life. All of them censured Djouri’s conduct, and gave him advice, which only served to increase his rage to such a degree, that his wife was obliged to quit his house. His family and friends were apprehensive lest, when he went upon duty to the palace, he ​should commit some act of violence, the consequence of which would be the loss of his post, and the confiscation of his property. To prevent such a misfortune, Sado-no-kami sent for Kato-o-ouyemon, the confidential servant of Djouri, directed him to inform his master that he must not quit his house till further orders, and laid a special injunction on Ouyemon to prevent him from going out. Djouri, to whom Ouyemon communicated these orders, repressed his passion in order to lull distrust, and seemed resigned to what was required of him, while his heart was burning with rage; and persuaded that all the persecutions he experienced were owing to Sado-no-kami, who was desirous of compelling him to resign his office and to obtain it for his son, he swore to sacrifice him to his vengeance. As it would have been difficult to execute his design in the house of the counsellor of state, he resolved to attack and kill him in the palace itself. With this view, he eluded the vigilance of Ouyemon, and repaired thither on the 15th of the eighth month earlier than usual, that he might surprise Sado-no-kami.

On that day the great officers and all the servants of the Djogoun go to the palace to present their offerings to their master, and the princes offer in person, a sacrifice of two small porcelain flasks full of zakki to the god Fatsman-daïbru-sats. Fossokava-yetchou-no-kami, prince of Figo, repaired according to custom to the palace, though his servants had forewarned him that extraordinary circumstances seemed to portend some great misfortune to him. The two flasks of zakki which he designed to offer were thrown down, though no person had touched them, and the liquor was spilt on the mats: and a ball of fire had been seen in the first days of the month, flying from the princes palace along Djeba street. Notwithstanding these sinister omens, the prince thought he could not avoid going to pay his respects to the Djogoun. In passing through the apartments of the palace, followed only by a kouragi-kan-saï, or keeper of the palace, he was met by Djouri, who, taking him in the dark, and owing to the resemblance of his arms, for Sado-no-kami, rushed furiously upon him and grave him a sabre wound, which left him weltering in his blood. The attendant ran away and hid himself, so that some time elapsed before the event became known. At length Toma-sadogoro, one of the inferior officers of the Djogoun, whose duty brought him accidentally to the spot where the outrage had been committed, finding a wounded man on the ground with a naked sabre by his ​side, hastened to report the fact to the inspector of the palace, who immediately went thither, and ordered search to be made for the culprit.

This inspector, whose name was Tsousida-fau-nemon, and Komoda-niyemon, on examining the wounded person with attention, discovered that it was the prince of Figo. They asked him the name of the assassin, but as the prince was too faint to reply, they could not obtain any information from him. They inquired which of the attendants had accompanied him through the apartments, but no one could tell. Fannemon, conceiving that the assassin must be still in the palace, ordered all the doors to be secured, and taking with him a great number of attendants, he went through all the apartments without finding any person. Meanwhile assistance was procured for the prince, but it proved of no avail.

At length, one of the keepers of the apartments, named Moro-i-zoga, having gone into a private place in which fire is constantly kept, found there a person who seemed to be much agitated, and who was cutting off his hair with a pair of scissors. He asked who he was. Djouri, for it was he, replied, that he had just killed a man, and that he was cutting off his hair in order to become a priest. Zoga immediately made his report. Two inspectors went to secure the murderer, who made no resistance. He was conducted into the great hall, and there shut up.

The report being spread, that one of the princes who had come to pay their court to the Djogoun had been assassinated, a great agitation ensued among the persons of their retinue who were in waiting outside the palace, each being apprehensive for the life of his master.

The assassin, being brought before the chief inspector, answered the questions put to him in so confused and incoherent a manner, that he was thought to have lost his senses. He was nevertheless recognised to be Itakoura-djouri, an officer of the council-chamber. All the lords, and among others Sado-no-kami, came to ascertain whether the culprit really was Djouri, and having thoroughly satisfied themselves that he was, the counsellors of state drew up a report, in which they informed the Djogoun that Fosso-kava-yetchou-no-kami had been assassinated by Itakoura-djouri.

The old Djogoun, on reading this report, appeared to be deeply afflicted: then, either doubting the death of the prince, or deeming it prudent to conceal ​the event for some time, he ordered his wound to be dressed by his surgeons, and boiled rice and water to be given to him. The counsellors of state replied, that this could be of no service, since the prince had been long dead; but the Djogoun pretending not to hear them, repeated the order to give him boiled rice and water. He caused it at the same time to be publicly reported that the prince of Figo had been wounded by Djouri, but was still alive; and one of the sub-inspectors, in a loud voice, ordered a person to tell the guard at the gates to desire the prince of Figo’s servants to carry his chair to the back entrance, to take up their master. This order produced the best effect, and the confusion instantly subsided. The attendants of the other princes were relieved from their anxiety; even those of the prince of Figo took courage, thinking their master to be still living; and thus tranquillity was restored.

The body of the prince was carried away in his chair, and Nao-oka-kiousiro, one of his attendants, seated himself in it beside him, though this is contrary to etiquette in the interior of the palace: but the Djogoun had given him permission. Naga-oka, before he entered the chair, expressed his acknowledgments for this favour to the counsellors of state, who assured him that the assassin was apprehended, and should undergo the punishment due to his crime; and therefore the prince’s people ought to remain quiet till they should hear farther from the Djogoun.

The servants of the prince of Figo were profoundly afflicted by his death; the women burst into tears. His relations assembled, and resolved to inform the Djogoun that the prince had died of his wound. Scarcely had they come to this determination when Sota-fagami-no-kami, chief counsellor of state, arrived to inquire in the name of the Djogoun concerning the state of the prince, and brought a dish of dried smelts in token of his affection. The relations were deeply sensible of this extraordinary favour; they requested the counsellor of state to convey their thanks to the Djogoun, and to assure him that they should bear his condescension in everlasting remembrance. After his departure, they again deliberated, and finally agreed to defer the report till the following day.

Next day, Fori-sikibou-no-tayou, ordinary counsellor of state, came on behalf of the heir-apparent, to inquire after the health of the prince of Figo, declaring that his master was extremely uneasy about him, and bringing a present of ​Corea ginseng for the solace of the patient. He then announced, in the name of the Djogoun, that the permission to adopt his youngest brother which Fossokava had solicited in the preceding year was granted, and that his adopted son should succeed him, even if the father were no longer living. The family received this new favour with the warmest gratitude: it was a great consolation to them under the misfortune which they had experienced.

The report of the prince’s death was deferred till the 21st., and then that event was publicly announced at the palace. The counsellors of state met to deliberate on the fate of Djouri, who was unanimously condemned to die, as well as Kato-o-ouyemon, who was in some measure the primary cause of the prince of Figo’s murder, because he had not performed the orders he had received to prevent Djouri from leaving his house.

Isikava-tosa-no-kami, chief inspector of the palace, and Souga-nouma-sinsabro, the sub-inspector, carried on the 22d a written order in the name of the Djogoun to Misou-no-kenmots, prince of Oka, in whose custody Djouri had been placed, to the following effect:

“Some days since in thy fury thou didst wound the prince of Figo, who has died in consequence of the injury. As a punishment for thy crime, thou shalt rip thyself up at the house of Misou-no-kenmots, whose servant shall cut off thy head.”

On the reading of this order, Djouri flew into an outrageous passion; but all resistance was useless, and he was obliged to obey. All his relations were commanded not to leave their houses.

The order relative to Djouri’s servant, Kato-o-ouyemon, was couched in these terms:

“Itakoura-sado-no-kami had enjoined thee to take care that Djouri should not go from home: thou hast disobeyed this order, and a great misfortune has been the consequence. As a punishment for thy disobedience, thou shalt be conducted before the house of Itakoura-sikibou; there thy hands shall be tied behind thee, and thy head cut off.”

The order read to Kourogi-kansaï, keeper of the apartments, was as follows:

​“Whilst attending the prince of Figo, thou wast witness of his misfortune, and didst run away instead of assisting him. Conduct so cowardly and so inhuman deserves death; but, as thou art but a servant of inferior class, thy life is spared, and thy property is confiscated.”

The prince Todo-isoumo-no-kami, had bought for one hundred kobans (£100 sterling), a sabre of great value. Delighted with the cheapness of his bargain, he ran to show it to his father, and told him the price. “I cannot conceive,” said the father, “where you have picked up this sabre, or out of what well you have drawn it,” (an expression used in Japan in reference to any thing that is sold for less than its value). Isoumo acknowledged that it was dirt cheap, and seemed overjoyed with his bargain. The father soon made him ashamed of his exultation. “Such a bargain,” said he, “proves that the seller is in distress, and that necessity compels him to dispose of his sabre. Does it become the prince of Ize, with an income of thirty-six thousand kokf (£36,000 sterling), thus to take advantage of the misfortunes of another?” These words were uttered in so austere a tone, that the son, ashamed and confounded, went to seek the vender, and gave him one hundred kobans over and above the stipulated price.

Motsi-tsouki-sanyeï was a man of superior understanding, a very skilful physician, and extremely charitable. Passing one day over the bridge of Yedo-basi, he saw the child of a beggar covered with the small-pox, and having nothing but a wretched straw mat for garment and bed. He supplied it with the necessary medicines, and sent it food; and these attentions he continued till its convalescence. His colleague, Tatsibana-rouivan, being informed of his beneficence, reproached him for it. “You do very wrong,” said he, “to trouble yourself about beggars. You have been prescribing too for the old comedian, Itchekava-yebiso, while he was ill. You degrade us by such conduct. We are the physicians of the Djogoun, and ought not to have any thing to do with low people.” “On that point I cannot agree with you,” replied Sanyeï. “The Djogoun is the father of his people, and it is our duty to relieve the ​ailments of his children. Accordingly when I see a person who is ill in the street, even though it were a beggar, I am anxious to afford him all the succour I can, and in so doing I only perform my duty.” Rouivan was silenced by this answer, and retired quite abashed.

Tsourou-voka-dennaï, an officer of the prince of Kidjo, enjoyed a yearly salary of one hundred kokf. He was unmarried, had no family, and but one servant, named Genso, a bold, hale man. He was extremely frugal, so that notwithstanding the smallness of his income, he acquired in a few years considerable wealth.

About the middle of the fifth month of the first year Kio-fo (1716), Dennaï having sold one hundred bales of rice, received payment for it in specie, which he locked up in Genso’s presence. The latter, tempted by the sight of the money, resolved to possess himself of it in the night, and fearful lest his master might awake and prevent the execution of this design, he determined to make him intoxicated, and then murder him. To this end he provided a good supper, and plenty of very strong zakki. Dennaï, after eating and drinking copiously, went to bed, and soon fell into a sound sleep. About midnight Genso softly opened the door, approached the bed, and finding his master fast asleep, drew his sabre and killed him; after which he packed up the money, clothes, sabres, and every thing else of value that he could find, and fled with his booty.

Dennaï had no relation at Yedo; his death therefore excited at first but little sensation, and no one thought it worth while to make search for the assassin. Simisou-sinsero, however, an intimate friend of the deceased, who resided at Kidjo, was soon apprized of the fatal event. He had no doubt that Genso, who had absconded, was the murderer: he swore to punish him for the crime, from a conviction that it is a duty incumbent on friendship to avenge the death of those to whom we are attached. Sinsero, in consequence, solicited leave of absence of the prince of Kidjo, who granted his request. His petition was to this effect:

“I am one of the servants of your highness; your kindness to me is eminent as a mountain, and profound as the sea: I shall never cease to be grateful for ​it. A dreadful misfortune has befallen me; Tsouro-voka-dennaï has been assassinated by his servant Genso. The murderer has carried off all the effects of his victim and fled. Search is making for him, but in vain. I solicit leave of absence for some time to seek the villain, and beseech your highness to be graciously pleased to grant it.”

Furnished with this permission, he prepared every thing necessary for his journey; then recollecting that Genso, who was a native of the eastern part of the empire, spoke the dialect of Yedo, and thinking that he might possibly be still in that city, he proceeded thither without loss of time, hired a house, and began to give lessons on the flute, in order to procure the means of subsistence during his stay. Meanwhile, he made diligent search for his enemy, and knowing that Genso was acquainted with his name, he changed it to that of Yamana-satsou. At night he frequented the streets, the public places, and the brothels. In one of the latter he met with a young female named Akisino, who was very handsome, and lived upon the produce of her charms. He conceived an attachment for her, and even promised her marriage. When he was satisfied that she was worthy of his confidence, he informed her of the motive that had brought him to Yedo, and requested her to assist him in his inquiries. He described as well as he could the age, face, and person of Genso; charged her to take particular notice of all visitors to the house; and made her promise to send him word if she met with any resembling the description which he had given, and to conceal him (Satsou), in some place where he might have an opportunity of examining and recognising the culprit.

One day a messenger brought to Satsou a letter from Akisino, acquainting him that there was at that moment in the house a man closely resembling the person he had described, and urging him to come immediately to see whether it was the man whom he was in quest of. Satsou immediately obeyed the summons, ran up stairs to Akisino’s apartment, and desired her to show him the man in question. Akisino, after begging him not to make so much noise, led him to a place near the room where the stranger was, and where he might be seen through the wainscot drinking zakki with several of his friends. Satsou recognised Genso, and transported with rage, would have rushed upon and killed him, but was withheld by Akisino, who represented the danger to which ​he would expose himself. She told him that Genso would pass the night at the house; that the next morning he would go to the bath, and thence return to his own home. “If you will take the trouble to follow him then,” said she to Satsou, “you will discover where he lives, and be sure of finding him whenever you please.” Satsou yielded to her persuasions. He waited till the next day, followed Genso on his return from the bath, and when he was about to enter his house, called out to him in a terrible voice: “Art not thou Genso, the servant of Tsourou-voka-dennaï?” Genso, in great alarm, replied that Dennaï had no relations, and asked by what right he put this question. “Thou hast murdered Dennaï,” replied Satsou, “thou hast stolen his effects, and absconded with them. I am not related to Dennaï, it is true, but he was my best friend, and I will fulfil the duty of friendship to him, by pursuing thee unto death.” “Well,” rejoined Genso, “I am ready to give thee satisfaction; but wait till evening, and let us choose a more suitable place; here we should have too many witnesses of our combat. I will meet thee at dusk near the temple of Zo-zen-si.” Having thus agreed upon the place and hour, Satsou returned home, burned his letters and his pocket-book, and called upon Akisino to take leave of her. He begged her to cause his body to be interred, if he should have the misfortune to be killed by Genso, and to inform his relatives of his death. “What do you take me for?” replied Akisino. “Am I your wife? You know that by profession I cannot belong to any one exclusively. Why then should I care whether you are killed or not?” Satsou, enraged at her indifference, loaded her with reproaches, and on leaving her hastened to the temple of Zo-zen-si, to meet his enemy. Genso soon arrived, and both, after fresh mutual provocations, drew their sabres, and commenced the fight. Satsou, being extremely weak, was not able to make head long against his powerful adversary, and must very soon have fallen, had not a handsome young man flown from the temple to his assistance, and going behind his adversary, given him a cut with his sabre. When Genso turned about to face his new assailant, Satsou struck him a blow which brought him to the ground, and cut off his head.

He then threw himself into the arms of his deliverer, and inquired who he was, and what guardian angel had sent him to his assistance. “Look at me!” replied a voice that was familiar to him. “I am not what you take me to be; I am your beloved Akisino. Forgive me for having treated you with such ​apparent harshness. I was frightened at the advantage which Genso’s strength gave him over you. Had you seen me dissolved in tears, and had we given way to our feelings in taking leave of one another, you would have gone still weaker and more dispirited to the fight; I, therefore, thought it best to irritate you, that you might be the better able to withstand your antagonist. But, as this precaution was not sufficient to pacify my uneasiness, I changed my dress, and seizing the sabre of one of the men who are now amusing themselves in the house, I arrived just in time to save you. Thank the gods for the success of your combat, and to prevent any unpleasant consequences, lose no time in reporting what has happened to government.” Sinsero, whom we now call by his real name, warmly expressed his gratitude to her, and followed her advice. The matter was minutely investigated, and Genso’s crime being proved, Sinsero was acquitted, and allowed to return to Kidjo. The prince released Akisino from the house in which she lived, by paying her ransom, and gave her her liberty. Sinsero married her, as much out of affection as gratitude, and had by her two sons, one of whom was his heir, and the other the heir of Dennaï. The latter took the name of Tsourou-vouka-dengoro, and had the income of one hundred kokf enjoyed by Dennaï. Thus, Sinsero revenged the death of his friend, and received the reward of attachment. May those who peruse this history, imitate what is praiseworthy in his conduct, and perform the sacred duties of friendship with equal courage and perseverance!

When Yoda-isoumi-no-kami, governor of Yedo, was only keeper of the apartments and steward to the Djogoun, with a salary of three hundred kokf, it happened that the prince of Nanbou sent a crane to the Djogoun. The latter was very fond of this bird, but the season in which the physicians permit it to be eaten being past, the Djogoun inquired whether it would do him any harm to eat of it when salted. The physician replied in the negative, and the crane was immediately dressed. It is customary for the dishes to be first tasted by one of the officers of the palace. Isoumi-no-kami was on duty the day the crane was dressed, and when the dishes were brought for him to taste, he forbade the crane to be carried to the Djogoun, saying, that it was out of ​season, and citing the authority of the canonical books, which prohibit the eating of animals and fruit except at certain times of the year. He even refused to taste the crane, notwithstanding the opinion of the physician, alleging that the life of the Djogoun was too precious, and that his own was dearer to him than gold and wealth. The Djogoun being informed of the circumstance, commended his conduct, and could not forbear expressing a wish that he had many such servants: he appointed him inspector of the palace, and afterwards governor of Yedo, a post which Yoda filled with honour.

It is forbidden upon pain of death, for any female, be her age what it may, to pass the guard of Fakone at Yedo. In case of a violation of this prohibition, those who accompany the culprit, and the sentinels who have suffered her to pass, share her fate.

Fouwa-fiyosayemon, who lived at Yamabe, in Yedo, was obliged by some family business to go to Farima. He was very poor, and had two children, a girl and a boy; the former eleven, and the latter nine years old. His wife had been dead a long time. Not knowing any one with whom he could leave his children during his absence, he resolved to take them with him; and, to deceive the guard; he cut the girl’s hair, and dressed her in boy’s clothes. The sentinels, imposed upon by this disguise, actually suffered them to pass. Fiyosayemon, pleased with the success of this stratagem, conceived himself out of danger, when a groom running up, congratulated him on having so fortunately passed with a girl dressed like a boy, and asked for something to drink. Fiyosayemon, alarmed at this challenge, assured the man that he was mistaken, as both his children were boys; at the same time offering him a few sepikkes to get some zakki. The groom refused them with contempt, demanding kobans, and threatening to inform of him unless he complied. Fiyosayemon, incensed at his importunity, returned no other answer than a few blows with the flat of his sabre on the back. The groom, to revenge himself, immediately ran and informed the guard, that a man had just passed with two children, one of whom was a girl.

The sentinels were thunderstruck; since, as it has been observed, their lives ​would be forfeited if the fact were proved. They deliberated for some time, and were at length obliged to dispatch men to apprehend the culprit. The commanding officer, however, had had the presence of mind to send on before one of his people with a little boy, with orders to exchange him for the girl. Fiyosayemon had stopped at a tavern to drink with his children, when a man entered, leading a little boy by the hand, and said to him:―“As I came by the guard-house, I heard a person inform of you for having passed with your daughter disguised as a boy. Feeling for your situation, I am desirous to save you and your family from the fate with which you are threatened. You will be presently arrested, but be not alarmed: substitute this boy for your girl, and if the accuser persists in his charge, make no scruple of cutting off his head.” The house was soon invested: Fiyosayemon was called for, and ordered to bring his two children; he produced them, and both were found to be boys. The groom in astonishment declared that the girl must have been changed; but Fiyosayemon affecting the highest degree of rage, drew his sabre and cut off his head. The guards applauded this action, saying, that to invent such lies to ruin innocent people was a crime deserving of the severest punishment. Fiyosayemon, after their departure, took back his daughter, thanked his benefactor, and proceeded on his way.

One of the inferior servants of the Djogoun, named Ivas-gozo, had a daughter, who was constantly ill; he took her to the hot baths, in hopes of re-establishing her health. He had been there three weeks, when three men belonging to the retinue of the prince of Satsouma came to see him, and requested him to lend them ten kobans, promising to repay him at Yedo. Gozo declined, alleging that he was poor, and his daughter’s illness very expensive, and expressing his regret that it was not in his power to accommodate them. They appeared to be satisfied with his excuses; and as he was to set off the next day, they invited him to supper, purposing to detain and make him drunk with zakki. Gozo, having no suspicion of their design, accepted the invitation, and after supper, finding that it was late, he returned thanks, and begged permission to retire, that he might take a little rest before ​his departure. Next morning, very early, he set off, but had scarcely proceeded three miles, when, on examining his sabre, which seemed heavier than usual, he discovered that it was not his own. He immediately returned, went to the persons with whom he had supped the preceding night, and delivering to them the sabre, begged pardon for having taken it away in a mistake. Instead of accepting his excuses, they replied, that this was an affair which could not be so lightly passed over; that he could not have offered them a greater affront than in exchanging his sabre for one of theirs; and that they would be dishonoured, if it were known at Yedo that they had not taken a signal revenge for it. They, therefore, declared, that he must fight them, and urged him to fix the time and place for the combat. Gozo complained of their injustice; reminded them that he had with him a sick daughter, who would be left destitute if he were to perish by their hands; and again entreated them to pardon him, assuring them that his daughter and himself would never cease to bear their kindness in grateful remembrance. All his remonstrances were fruitless. Finding, therefore, that he could not appease them, he was compelled to accept the challenge, and agreed to meet them the following day.

Gozo, on leaving theum, reflected on his situation, which was in reality terrible; for he had no other alternative than either to perish in the combat, or, if he vanquished his enemies, to die by his own hand. Such was the law established by the prince of Satsouma. In this dilemma he called upon one of his friends, who was a servant of the prince of Mito, related to him what had happened, and begged that he would lend him a pike to equip him for opposing his antagonists. His friend not only gave him his pike, but assured him that he would accompany him as his second, and assist him if he saw him in danger.

Next day, Satsouma’s three servants repaired to the field of battle, where they were met by Gozo. They were armed with long sabres, while he had nothing but his pike, which, however, he plied with such dexterity and success, that with the two first thrusts, he extended two of his adversaries at his feet: the third, apprehensive of sharing their fate, ran away. Gozo, after pursuing him for some time, but without being able to overtake him, because fear lent him wings, returned to the place of combat for the purpose of dispatching ​himself. At this moment his friend ran up, wrested his arms from him, and cheered him, by representing that justice was on his side, as he had been provoked in an unwarrantable manner, and obliged to defend himself. “I witnessed the combat,” added he; “I will make my report of it, and be bail for you. Meanwhile, the best thing you can do is to lose no time in acquainting the governor of Yedo with what has happened.”

The governor wrote, in consequence, to the prince of Satsouma, who soon afterwards returned for answer, that on inquiry he learned that the malefactors were not his subjects, but must have come from some other province. Gozo was in consequence set at liberty, and thus the affair terminated.

Sakakibara-sikibou-no-tayou was adopted by the prince of Fimesi. He was a man of excessive prodigality, who distinguished himself in the years Gen-boun by foolish expenses, and neglected the duties of his post. Neither the orders of his master, nor the remonstrances of his relatives, had weight enough to produce a chance in his conduct. Every night he frequented the street of the courtesans, and visited in particular the house of Mouraya, where he found a girl whom he knew, named Takawo, whose mother had been his nurse. In all his debaucheries he took with him two of the most celebrated taïkomouts, or men who make a profession of diverting, for hire, rich libertines by their buffooneries. The following anecdote will furnish some idea of his profusion. One day having gone with his two attendants into the house of pleasure called Owaria, behind which there was, as usual in such places, a small artificial mount, he covered this mount from top to bottom with kobans, as he might have done with flowers. Yama-bouki, one of his old servants, remonstrated with him, and represented the consequences of such conduct if it should reach the ears of the Djogoun, but he paid no attention to him. Soon afterwards he paid the ransom of Takawo, and set the girl at liberty.

The follies of Sikibou-no-tayou could not fail to come to the knowledge of the Djogoun and the counsellors of state, who severely reprimanded him in writing. It was at first intended to strip him of every thing; but as his ancestors had rendered important services to Gongin in his wars, and it was ​moreover considered, that he was not the son, but only the adopted son of the prince, and that before his adoption neither himself nor his family was of any note, it was thought right not to treat him with such severity. He was removed, indeed, from Fimesi, but a district, producing a revenue of fifteen mankokf (£75,000 sterling), was assigned to him in the province of Yetchego.

Yosi-moune had four sons, the eldest of whom, Yee-sige, his successor, was born in the province of Kidjo.

In the second year of Yen-kio (1745), Yosi-moune resigned the government to his son, Yee-sige, and was then named O-gosio, which signifies the great palace. In the fourth year of Quan-yen (1751), he was attacked by the disorder of which he died. Three years before he had a paralytic seizure, which at first prevented him from walking. He had, however, so far recovered from its effects, as to be able to take several times the pleasure of the chase. He was again attacked by the same disorder, in the fifth month of the last mentioned year, and so rapid was its progress, that, in the following month, public prayers were ordered to be put up for his recovery, in the temple of To-yei-san, and in the other principal temples. The physicians were specially charged to neglect no means for restoring him to health; but all their efforts were fruitless, and he expired on the 20th of the same month, to the great regret of the whole empire. The mourning was general. Women and children, the high and the low, wept for him as for a father. He was interred near the temple of To-yeï-san. Fota-sagami-no-kami, the ordinary counsellor, Ovoka-yetchezen-no-kami, the lord of the temples, and Kanno-wakassa-no-kami, the inspector of the chamber of accounts, were charged with the superintendence of the funeral.

Narisima, his favourite physician, who was very old, and himself at the point of death, made some verses on his master to this effect:—

“As my master is now exposed to the dew and the rain, so I incessantly steep my sleeves with my tears. Thus heavy showers descend and moisten the trees.”

Minamotto-no-yee-shige, eldest son of Yosi-moune, succeeded to the government by the resignation of his father, as already stated, in the second year Yen-kio (1745).

Baboun-ko, a servant of Yosi-moune, and author of the work intituled Giofirok, or, secret history of remarkable occurrences in the palace, during the reign of Yee-sige, gives the following account of this prince:―

On the death of O-gosio, in the fourth year Kouan-ein (1751), Yee-sige became sole master of the empire, and governed without control. An inordinate passion for women and strong liquors had already impaired his health. In his youth, and when still but heir-apparent, he had indulged those propensities to such excess, that his father had severely reprimanded him on the subject; and with a view to divert him from his bad inclinations, he had frequently, in the years Gen-boun, made him pass six or seven days together at the country-house of Souga-no-gotin, where he had no other amusement than hawking. After the death of his father, being released from the only curb that restrained him, he again plunged into the same excesses, and spent whole nights, either with women, or in drinking zakki, so that his health declined from day to day. His speech became affected; he could no longer make himself understood but by signs, and he was obliged to issue his orders through Isoumo-no-kami.

He was soon obliged to keep his apartments on account of a weakness of the urinary organs. According to an ancient custom, the Djogoun is obliged to go every month to the temples of Ouyeno, Zo-sio-si, and Momisi-yama, to offer up his prayers before the tablets consecrated to his predecessors on the day of their decease. It was not without difficulty that Yee-sige was able to perform this duty.

One day, on the first of the month, in the fifth year Forekki (1755), returning from the temple of Ouyeno, in his palanquin, he had scarcely reached the ginseng warehouse, which is close to it, when he felt a natural call, which he ​could not defer till his arrival at the palace, and which compelled him to order his people to take him back to the temple, a circumstance heretofore unexampled. The architects were immediately commanded to erect three resting-places for the prince, on each of the two roads to the temples of Ouyeno and Zo-sio-si: but this precaution was useless, as the increasing infirmities of the Djogoun confined him ever afterwards entirely to the palace.

We have already seen that Yee-sige married, during the reign of his father, Namino-miya-sama, daughter of the Daïri. We have, at the same time, made mention of Oko, the daughter of Fatzisio-dono, one of the officers of the Daïri, whom that princess had taken into her service, and whom she carried with her to Yedo, after her marriage. Yee-sige having had the misfortune to lose his wife, cast his eyes on Oko, and in the 2d year Gen-boun (1737), had by her a son, Yee-farou, who is the reigning Djogoun (1782).

Oko was not sparing of remonstrances to the prince on his passion for women, protesting that she did not speak thus from jealousy, but for his good, and out of concern for his health, which his debauchery threatened to ruin entirely. The prince, irritated by these frequent representations, at length confined Oko in the part of the palace called Ni-no-marou, and ordered that no person, not even her son, should be admitted to her. No sooner was the old Djogoun informed of this, than he directed two counsellors of state to go to his son, and tell him in his name to set Oko at liberty, to conduct her to him themselves, and to reconcile them with one another. He commended the conduct of this female, and censured that of his son, who had not scrupled to disgust the empire by confining the mother of the hereditary prince, for a cause which rather deserved his warmest gratitude.

The indulgence shown on another occasion by Oko, in favour of one of her rivals, did her great honour, and proved at the same time, that it was not jealousy to which the advice and remonstrances that had drawn upon her the displeasure of Yee-sige were to be attributed. The daughter of Miyoura-fiosayemon having become pregnant by the prince at the second palace, the counsellors of state informed Yosi-moune of it, and solicited him to send a girdle to her by her nearest relative, according to the custom of Japan. Yosi-moune refused, saying, that he had indeed conferred this favour on the attendant of the Daïri’s daughter, but that he could not grant it to the daughter of a person ​of such low extraction. Oukon-no-siogin, one of the counsellors of state, having nothing to urge against this reason, proposed, by way of accommodation, that the girdle should be transmitted without ceremony, and presented by Oko. The latter cheerfully complied, and approved this arrangement, as consistent with her way of thinking. When this fact became publicly known, the whole empire applauded the liberality of Oko, and the name of Oukon-no-siogin, who was then but young, acquired deserved celebrity. Oko did not long survive this event.

The prince of Tsikousen or Tsoukousi (a province on the north coast of the island of Kiou-siou, to the cast of Nangasaki), one of the most illustrious princes by his birth and personal merit, but not high in rank, privately applied to the two chief counsellors of state to obtain for him the title of Djosio; which was contrary to custom, as none of his ancestors had been invested with it. Through their mediation, however, he obtained the honour that he desired. His son had married a daughter of the prince of Satsouma, whose mother was the eldest sister of the Djogoun’s father. She complained that her father in-law, though one of the most illustrious of the princes, was so much inferior in rank, and insisted on his being made Djosio, a wish which the counsellors of state found means to gratify. Not content with this honour, he was desirous, as being allied to the prince of Satsouma, to be allowed to erect as large a door as that prince had in front of his palace, and solicited from the court permission to that effect, which was refused. He then wrote as follows to his son:—“Since my daughter-in-law is also allied to the Djogoun, I am desirous of erecting a door similar to that of Mats and Satsouma. Those princes, it is true, married daughters of the Djogoun, and your wife is only a daughter of Satsouma: but have in readiness wood and other requisite materials, and when the wife of Satsouma is coming to pay you a visit, let a door similar to that of Mouts and Satsouma be erected, and no notice will be taken of the matter.” His son followed this advice, and thus the prince obtained all that he had desired.

​Fonko-in, mother of the prince of Tsikouzen, was distinguished from her youth by great religious devotion. She was profoundly versed in every thing connected with religion; the priests themselves consulted her with benefit, and found it to be to their advantage to follow her advice. The high priests of the temples of Myiokosi, Siyososi and Yenmeï-in, at Yedo, were her kinsmen. The two latter temples were aggrandized through her patronage. That of Tansiyosi having been consumed by fire, and there being no funds for rebuilding it, the high priest of Yenmeï-in was, on his application, removed to it for the purpose of accelerating its re-establishment. On his recommendation, Fonko-in caused a new temple to be forthwith begun. When it was finished, the high-priest solicited his colleague of the temple of Minobou, of the sect of Fokesio, to present Fonko-in with a kesa^[40]. The kesa is a purple scarf, which is put on over the ordinary garments, and which none but the priests of the sect of Fokesio, or the persons most learned in religious matters, have a right to wear. This honour is not enjoyed by priestesses. The kesa was granted to Fonko-in. Since her time, it has been possible to obtain it with money, which has of course greatly diminished its value. It was by the same means that the prince of Tsi-kouzen attained the rank of Djosio.

In the fourth year Foreki (1754), the rebuilding of the central part of the temple of Ouyeno, at Yedo, was commenced. Ouye-tsougi-ooï-no-kami, prince of Dewa, was ordered to defray the expense. Accordingly, he caused a great quantity of wood to be bought, and a work-shop erected. On every piece of timber was written: “To rebuild the temple of Ouyeno.” When the work was finished, the inspector and persons sent by the Djogoun came to examine it, and approved the manner in which it was executed. The expense amounted to a considerable sum.

​Ouye-tsougi then received orders to rebuild also, at his cost, the grand entrance to the same temple. As this new expense would have entirely ruined him, he begged to be dispensed from it, but at first without effect. Fortunately he was related to the prince of Owari, who interested himself in his behalf, and who, having sent for Fota-sagami-no-kami, ordinary counsellor of state, represented to him that it was unjust to require such heavy sacrifices from a prince possessing so little power and property, and above all to impose on him a fresh burden, after he had just borne one that was so oppressive. He therefore insisted that Ouye-tsougi should be relieved from the charge of rebuilding the entrance. Fresh arrangements were in consequence made, and the task was transferred to the prince of Kokera.

The grooms of the prince of Owari^[41] had rendered themselves formidable by the outrages which they committed publicly, and in open day, upon those who happened to offend them. In the 11th month of the fourth year Foreki (1754), a man, going alone, and without attendant, met eight of these grooms in the street at Sinagawa. He happened unfortunately to jostle one of them. The latter loaded him with abuse, which he bore with patience, at the same time begging pardon for what had happened; but they all fell upon him and beat him unmercifully. The wretched man could scarcely crawl to the guard-house, where he stated that he was in the service of Misou-no-yamassiro-no-kami, and that having gone out upon urgent business, he had fallen in with a troop of villains, who had reduced him to the state in which he appeared; adding, that he could not walk, and desiring to have a palanquin to carry him to his master’s house, where he died soon after his arrival.

Yamassiro loved his servants and his soldiers as his children. Incensed at this atrocity, he caused strict search to be made for the discovery of the perpetrators, and having ascertained that they were Owari’s grooms, he repaired to the palace of the prince, informed him of what had happened, and ​demanded the heads of the eight culprits. Owari admitted that his resentment was just; he declared his readiness to give him satisfaction, but said that he never would consent to sacrifice eight lives on account of the murder of one man. Yamassiro, still more exasperated by this answer, insisted on his demand, protesting, that unless he obtained complete justice, he would rip himself up before the face of the prince, and that his death would not go unrevenged. Owari, seeing that he was resolute, promised to satisfy him, and Yamassiro assuring him that he would not retire till the culprits were punished, the eight grooms were brought forth and their heads struck off. This example made their comrades more circumspect.

Though a prince is a sovereign in his own palace, and possesses absolute power over his subjects and dependents, yet he is equally at the disposal of the Djogoun with the meanest of them. Their secretaries, therefore, are in a state of continual anxiety, during the time of their residence at Yedo. Some of them have been known to cause the heads of their servants to be cut off for the slightest faults. Such was the case, about ten years since (1772), with Ki-no-tchounagon, prince of Kidjo, and a kinsman of the Djogoun’s. This prince committed many cruelties, and sometimes put to death three or four persons with his own hand in one day. His mother having once severely reproached him for his barbarity, he clapped his hand to his sabre, but his people ran up and confined him in a distant apartment. As the Djogoun had not sufficient power to depose him, he applied to the Daïri, who immediately divested him of the title of Tchounagon. When he had thus become an ordinary prince, the Djogoun sent him a written order purporting that he deprived him of his title, and that since he was incapable of governing his province, he forbade him to quit Yedo. His uncle, a petty prince, with an income of five mankokf (£25,000), was intrusted with the government, till his adopted son should be of age to succeed him; he then received orders to rip open his belly. At the Djogoun’s it was asserted that he died a natural death.

​When the dependents of one prince insult those of another, the latter would be dishonoured if he were not to revenge the affront. The prince of Satsouma^[42], whose subjects traffic in the Luqueo (Loo Choo) islands, and in all the principal commercial cities of the empire, with a view to prevent quarrels with other princes, has decreed, that if one of his people is insulted by one of the subjects of another prince, he may revenge himself by killing his adversary, provided he takes his own life immediately afterwards. The lives of two persons, who, by their turbulent dispositions are the cause of their own destruction, seemed to him of too little importance to involve their masters in disputes which might be attended with fatal consequences. If one of his people is insulted by another, and dares not from cowardice revenge the affront, and if the circumstance comes to the knowledge of the captain or any of the sailors, the coward is conducted to the fore-part of the ship, and without a shadow of trial, his head is struck off, and with the body thrown overboard. Owing to this summary mode of proceeding, the people of the lower class treat one another with the greatest politeness, and are careful to avoid as much as possible whatever is likely to generate quarrels.

Matsdaïra-oukon-no-siogin, who is at present ordinary counsellor of state, is indebted for that post to the old Djogoin, who discovered his merit notwithstanding his youth. On his first appointment, every one exclaimed against the danger of conferring such important functions on a person of his years. He did not fail, however, to justify the confidence of the Djogoun, and soon showed that he was capable of conducting the affairs of the government. He possessed activity equal to his abilities. His extreme indulgence to his inferiors won their affection, and gained him universally the character of an excellent master. The old Djogoun, before he died, whispered in his ear so as not to be overheard by any other person, that he was to direct alone all the affairs of the state.

O-oka isoumo-no-kami, one of the body-guard of the young Djogoun, Yee-sige, ​rose from day to day higher in his favour. The counsellors of state both ordinary and extraordinary, applied to him to submit their petitions to the Djogoun, and the placemen from highest to lowest paid court to him. Whoever was desirous of obtaining an employment, or being removed to a better, had recourse to him, and offered him presents. Oukon-no-siogin was the only one who was above calling upon him; nay, he did not even send him the tail of a fish^[43]. “He is but one of the body-guard,” said he, “while we are officers of distinction: let others do as they think proper; I, for my own part, am resolved not to degrade myself.” Thus there was always some coldness between them; Oukon-no-siogin gave himself no concern on that account, but continued to perform the duties of his post with zeal and intelligence.

The inferior officers of the Djogoun are fed at the palace. They assemble morning and evening to take their meals in a hall appropriated to the purpose. Their food consists of a soup made of beans, called miso, a paste prepared with soya, rice, and cucumbers preserved in zakki. The superintendent of the kitchen, a greedy and selfish man, took advantage of his office to enrich himself; selling the articles with which the palace was supplied by the Djogoun’s people, and buying others of the worst quality at a low price in their stead. The fare thus grew worse and worse, and the unfortunate servants, being only of the lower class, durst not complain. At length, these tricks came to the ears of Oukon-no-siogin: he felt indignant that an officer of the palace should have the meanness to speculate in the food of poor people, who had but small salaries, and were obliged to work night and day. He reflected at the same time, that if the affair were to be publicly investigated, there would probably be found many peculators who would lose their places, and therefore devised a milder expedient. At the hour of dinner, he went unexpectedly into the kitchen, and desired to taste the different dishes: the attendants brought him some of good quality; he said nothing, and went away. Next day he again took them unawares, and went without stopping into the dinner-hall, to taste the dishes, which he found extremely bad: the cooks turned pale, and gave themselves up for lost; but he said not a word, and retired. From that day ​the cooks, apprehensive of fresh visits, were afraid to continue their manœuvres: the fare again became as good as it had formerly been, and the poor domestics felt the warmest gratitude and affection for Oukon-no-siogin.

When Ogosio, or Yosi-moune, the old Djogoun, had ceded the government to his son, he went to reside in the second palace. His household, divided into three classes, amounted to ninety persons, each of whom was allowed two gantings and a half of rice per day, or seventy bales a year. After his death, these people were discharged by Fota-sagami-no-kami, and all of them expressed their discontent at such harsh treatment. To prevent a tumult, he gave to those who had been in the service twenty years fifty kobans (£50), and thirty to such as had served ten years, that, as he said, they might be enabled to support their wives and families. The Djogoun had given them a place to live in; Fota-sagami turned them out, and each was obliged to hire a small apartment. Deeply grieved at such a procedure, they consulted together what was to be done, and drew up a petition which they presented to the high-priest of the temple of Ouyeno, soliciting to be employed by the reigning Djogoun, as they had been by his father. On delivering it, these unfortunate people were dissolved in tears. The high-priest promised to lay it before the counsellors of state, and to speak to them in their behalf; which he did, but without effect. Among these poor creatures was a man named Nakasima-simbi, who went every day for three years to entreat the priest to procure his re-appointment; but his efforts proved unsuccessful, owing to the malice of the above-mentioned counsellor of state. Such conduct is without a parallel: to treat innocent people in this manner is the height of injustice.

Fota-sagami-no-kami, whilst yet only keeper of the palace of Osaka, was much esteemed and in great reputation for his extensive knowledge, in which particular he surpassed even that celebrated scholar, O-ka-yetchezen-no-kami, who was surnamed the old lord of the temples; but his cruelty to so many old ​servants of the late Djogoun, whom he turned without cause out of their places, rendered him an object of public hatred.

One night some person placed over the door of his house a head cut out of a pumpkin, and underneath a label with this inscription:

“This is the head of Fota-sagami-no-kami, which has been cut off and placed here on account of the inhuman conduct which he has pursued for several years.” The author of this piece of revenge was not discovered.

A servant of the chief keeper of the palace perceiving something extraordinary over the door, and not knowing what to make of it at a distance, approached, and saw the pumpkin and the writing: he communicated the circumstance to the porter, who carefully removed them both. When Sagami-no-kami was informed of this trick, he related it himself to his colleagues, and to the other officers of the palace, who laughed, and applauded his firmness.

Inaba-mina-no-kami, prince of Odowara, caused two stones to be brought from the mountain of Fakoni; they were sepulchral monuments of Soga-no-goro-foki-moune, renowned for his valour, and of a woman named Tora, both of whom died in the time of Yori-tomo-Mina-no-kami. Having placed two new monuments on their graves, he set up these stones in his garden, called the one Goro-izi, and the other Tora-no-izi, and took care to keep them sheltered from wet, and to have them frequently cleaned to prevent decay.

His second son, Inaba-foso, from whom Inaba-yetchou-no-kami is descended in a direct line, being desirous of having one of these stones, for the purpose of placing it in his garden, his father gave him the Tora-no-izi. This was in the time of Dayou-in-sama, about one hundred and ten years ago.

After the death of Inaba-foso, no care was taken of this stone, which was at length so completely covered with earth, that nobody knew where it lay. Since that time, (if we may believe the popular rumours recorded in manuscripts), the house of Yetchou-no-kami has been afflicted with extraordinary calamities: the children born in it could not be reared, but all died young.

The priests who were consulted on the subject, ascribed these misfortunes to the Tora-no-izi. Search was made for it in the house and garden, but for a ​long time to no purpose. At length a dealer in wood, a very aged man, recollected that it must be under ground in a certain place in the garden which he pointed out. On that spot was actually found, at a considerable depth, a stone which proved to be the Tora-no-izi. The woodman was ordered to put it into his cart and carry it to the temple; but he refused, alleging that he was apprehensive of some bad consequences, and besides, it was not his business, but that of a stone-cutter. Minesima-tokiyemon, the mason, was accordingly sent for.

The preceding night this man had dreamt that a very beautiful woman had stepped up to him and whispered in his ear: “To-morrow some thing belonging to my body will be committed to thy charge; handle it, I pray thee, with great care.”

Next day, when he was sent for to the house of Yetchou-no-kami, and had received orders to remove the stone, he recollected his dream, and executed the commission with great caution. He had no doubt that the female who had appeared to him was Tora herself.

After the removal of the stone to the temple, there was an end of the prodigies at Yetchou-no-kami’s. When eleven years old he was placed about the person of the heir-apparent, afterwards Djogoun, to bear him company. It was he who gave Giobou-tcho, uncle to the Djogoun, and grandfather of the present heir-apparent, the bold answer which is recorded in the Ken-daï-gen-pi-rok, and has been introduced in a preceding page.

At the entrance of the palace is to be seen a sabre with a long hilt enriched with mother-of-pearl: it belonged to Dayou-in-sama, the third Djogoun. One day when this prince was hunting, a wild boar of enormous size, which had just been wounded, rushed furiously upon several of the hunters. The Djogoun armed with this sabre boldly went to meet the animal, and cleft him in two with a single blow. Ever afterwards he caused this sabre to be borne before his norimon, whenever he went abroad. This practice was discontinued at the death of the Djogoun.

​When O-ka-yetchezen-no-kami was appointed governor of Yedo, he sought out all such persons as excelled in any art or science, but principally in arithmetic. He designed one of the latter for the Djogoun, to be employed in the chamber of accounts. His choice fell upon Noda-bounso. Yetchezen sent for him, and told him that having been informed that he was one of the ablest arithmeticians of Yedo, he wished to propose a question to him. Bounso expected some intricate calculation, when the governor asked the quotient of one hundred divided by two. The former, sensible that to return an immediate answer to so simple a question would be to throw a sort of reflection on its absurdity, asked in consequence for his tablets, made the calculation, and replied fifty. Yetchezen-no-kami commended him and said: “Had you answered at once I should have formed a bad idea of your politeness. At present I see that you act in every point with discretion: the Djogoun wants such a man as you.” He appointed him first arithmetician; in the sequel Bounso became inspector of the chamber of accounts, and he continues annually to obtain promotion.

Fota-sagami-no-kami, at present first counsellor of state, has in his district the mountain of Masakado-yama or Siomon-san, which was invested in the first year Ten-ke (938), by Faïra-no-madja-kado, a descendant of Kivan-mou-ten-o.

During the reign of the third Djogoun, Dayou-in-sama, the first counsellor of state, Fota-kosouki-no-ski, obtained a revenue of one hundred and eighty thousand kokf (£90,000 sterling), and the rank of Tchou-si-no-djosio: he was the favourite of the Djogoun.

The chief bailiff of the village of Sagoura-ma-tche, named Odomo-sogo, had about this time a quarrel with a servant of Kosouki-no-ski. The latter was so incensed at it that he caused Sogo to be seized, and himself and all his family to be fastened to crosses on the summit of the mountain of Masa-kado-yama, and pierced with pikes. Boutchosi, his uncle, a priest of the temple, was beheaded. On reaching the place of execution, he was at first quite outrageous, but afterwards becoming more calm and resigned to his fate, he said: “This prince is a barbarian, to treat me thus, who am a priest and have had no hand whatever in the actions of my nephew. Never was there an instance of such ​injustice. But let him beware; in three years, or if the term be shorter, in one hundred days, he and his will be punished.”

Kosouki-no-ski set out soon afterwards from Yedo for his district, without giving notice of his departure agreeably to the order which he had received. The Djogoun was incensed, confiscated his country and his mansion, and gave the direction of it to the prince of Awa. After the decease of the Djogoun, Kosouki died in the province of Awa. It is related that when he left Yedo without notice, the soul of Sogo, beaming with joy, led his horse by the bridle.

Fota-sagami-no-kami, a descendant of Kosouki, after many years obtained, through the favour of the Djogoun, a grant of the same country, but with a diminished revenue of eighty thousand kokf (£40,000). He made the old mansion his residence, and built the temple of Sogo-no-miya, to appease the soul of Sogo, and afterwards the temple of Fodjou-in.

Though the Djogoun, Yeye-sige, had been honoured at his birth with the name of Take-tcheyo, a name which Gongin had borne in his youth, the sequel shewed that the fears of Yosi-moune were well founded. After he had entirely exhausted himself by the excessive indulgence of his passion for women and strong liquors, he became almost an idiot. As it was a crime to call him so, the people applied to him the term ampontan, which is the name of an herb that is said to take away the senses for some time. Yeye-sige had two sons, Yee-farou, who succeeded him, and Kounaï-kio-sige-yosi, who is still living (1782), and who is said to have for his wife the most beautiful and amiable woman in the whole empire.

In their infancy, Yeye-sige ordered Sono-tsousima, prince of Tsousima to send to China for some of the carp that are caught below the cascade of Roumon-no-taki. It is asserted that if these carp are burned, the ashes mixed with water, and children washed with it, the small-pox, when they have it, is extremely favourable, not attended with any danger, and leaves no marks. When the carp had arrived from China, Yeye-sige ordered them to be prepared in the manner just mentioned, and the bodies of his two sons to be washed every season in the water in which the ashes were mixed.

​Yeye-sige, dying after a long and painful illness, was succeeded by his eldest son, who ascended the throne in the tenth year Fore-ki (1760).

Minamotto-no Yee-farou enjoys the reputation of being a good prince. The remarkable occurrences of his reign are as follows:

In the third year Mi-wa (1766), Yamagata-daïni plotted a conspiracy, in which the court of the Daïri is said to have been implicated. Takafasi-bountchou, the physician, and Takeno-outche-tchouan were engaged with him: the latter was an excellent soldier, and a man of prepossessing person and agreeable conversation. After consulting with Fousi-oumon, an officer of high reputation, they were convinced that they had not among them a person of sufficient influence to ensure the success of the enterprise. They found that they wanted a distinguished leader, whose name was capable of infusing the utmost confidence into the conspirators, and they considered to which of the servants of the Daïri they ought to apply in preference.

Tchouan, who had gained many friends at the court of the Daïri during his long residence at Miyako, observed, that Okamoto-toan, a physician of Miyako, was, as well as himself, “an intimate friend of Tokdaisi-no-dainagon, a servant of the Daïri, a man of great bravery and abilities, who had often declared in their hearing, that he was ashamed of living in such a mean way with the Daïri, while the Djogoun, nay even the princes, lived in greater splendour than the Daïri himself; and, that if he had sufficient strength he would overthrow the government.” They in consequence directed Okamoto-toan to communicate their design to him, in hopes that if he entered into it, they would obtain a written permission from the Daïri.

Fousi-oumon proposed to Tchouan to send for Toan to Yedo. Tchouan, approving this plan, dispatched a messenger to Miyako with a letter containing three kobans for travelling expenses. Yamagata-itsouki, the elder brother of Yamagata-daïni, was summoned from the province of Kai. Fakami-kasousa, a ​priest of the temple of Miwa, and his son Fakami-sinanou, accompanied him, and fixed their residence in the street of Regansima.

Many other persons entered into a written engagement, signed with their blood, to join in this enterprise. Among the principal of these were, Oda-mino-no-kami, prince of Koots-ki, possessing a revenue of two mankokf, (£10,000); his son Faïrozitche; his cousin, Oda-tchousima-no-kami, one of the lowest class of princes, whose revenue was only two thousand seven hundred kokf (£1,350); Sikibou, son of Tchousima-no-kami, and several others of inferior rank.

Makita-gisaïmon, secretary to Mino-no-kami, endeavoured to dissuade his master, representing to him that Oda-no-nobou-naga, one of his ancestors, had been a great friend of Gongin’s, who had conferred lands and wealth on his relatives, after they had been stripped of their possessions by Taïko; that for this reason it would be an unworthy action in him to draw the bow against the descendants of that great Djogoun; that Youïno-djosits, a man of great abilities, was nevertheless unable to make himself master of the castle of Yedo; that Mirabasi-tchouya, notwithstanding his courage had been taken without fighting; that Bountchou, Tchouan, Oyonou, and Toan, though men of talent, were not to be compared with Djosits and Tchouya; that the project was too dangerous, and if it proved unsuccessful, would cost him his possessions and his life. Mino-no-kami, incensed at these representations, called him a cowardly ignorant fellow, compared him to the frogs in a well which have no idea of the immensity of the ocean, and forbade him ever to appear again in his presence. The secretary wept bitterly, complaining that his master would not follow good advice, abstained from eating and drinking, and died in twenty-one days.

The conspirators resolved to commence operations by setting fire to Yedo by means of fire-works, which they ordered Miyasawa-sunso and Momonoï-kiouma to prepare: but Simisou-risou assured them, that those men were not skilful enough to make such fire-works as they would require for the execution of their design. He added, that for this purpose it would be necessary to bring to Yedo Asakousa-rouwan, a servant of the prince of Amagasaki, and several of his companions. Daïni agreed to this proposal; and Oumon insisted that they ought first to procure a large stock of rice.

In this stage of the business, Imamoura-gensi, Naïto-gensiro, ​Sigeyama-rogouea and Tateki-krobe, entered into the conspiracy. The first three were servants to Abe-iyo-no-kami, counsellor of state; they offered gold, silver, and whatever else was wanting, and thereby gained the confidence of the ring-leaders, who acquainted them with their whole plan. These men also signed the engagement with their blood, declaring, that if they were trusted, they would do their utmost to seduce all their companions. They were believed, and all the particulars of the plot were communicated to them.

Oumon, having sent for Yawataya-densaïmon, the rice-merchant, requested him to lend him a large sum of money for an affair of importance. The other, wishing to know the purpose to which he alluded, Oumon replied, that he wanted it to buy rice; that, as the season was unfavourable, the crop that year would be small, and the price would be very high. “Buy up all you can,” added he, “and store it away in your warehouses; the price will rise every day, and this will be a profitable speculation for you and me.” Agreeably to this advice, Yawataya bought up all the rice he could meet with in Yedo, and brought it in vessels to Sinigawa, to the amount of four hundred thousand bales.

Okamoto-toan, who lived at Miyako, was in mourning for his wife, and confined himself to his house without going abroad, when he received Tchouan’s letter. He opened it: it contained, as usual, nothing but an invitation to come to Yedo, to confer on matters respecting which it did not enter into any particulars, with an offer of three kobans for the expenses of the journey. This invitation puzzled him; he resolved, however, to set out the next day with the messenger, and to leave his house in the care of his faithful servant, Zatcho. Before his departure, he went to take leave of his friend, Tokdaïsi-no-daïnagon, and to inform him of his journey to Yedo. The latter took pen and paper, and composed some verses, which he gave to Toan, requesting him to deliver them to Tchouan on his arrival at Yedo.

Toan travelled day and night, and was soon at Yedo. He proceeded directly to the house of Daïni, who lived in the street, Nagasawa-tcho, and with whom Tchouan lodged. While the servant was announcing his name, there came thither one Takatsouki-no-zezo, who had been appointed to form connexions at Osaka, and who brought intelligence that every thing was going on as well as could be wished. Toan was warmly welcomed by Daïni and Tchouan, and ​conducted into an inner apartment: he began by acquainting them with the death of his wife, and after receiving their compliments of condolence, he took from his pocket-book the paper given to him by Tokdaïsi-no-dainagon, and delivered it to Tchouan, who, on opening it, found these verses:

These lines have a double signification, which constitutes the beauty of poetry in Japan. According to one they mean:

“The plant gousa, which is at present forgotten, bears abundance of fruit: I well remember how highly it was esteemed in former times.”

Taken the other way, which conveys the real meaning of the writer, they signify:

“Though at the present day people yet wear arms, they have forgotten how to fight: I still recollect how we formerly used them.”

Tchouan, on reading these lines, wept for joy, and declared that if the enterprise should succeed, Tokdaïsi should be placed upon the throne. Tchouan and Daïni informed Toan, that they had sent for him to Yedo, to request him to beg Tokdaïsi to obtain for them from the Daïri a written order to excite revolt at Yedo, with a view to give a degree of legitimacy to their undertaking, and to secure them from being treated as outlaws and rebels. Toan promised to speak to him in private on the subject, after his return to Miyako, and to inform them immediately of the result of this interview, after which they might come themselves and concert farther proceedings with him.

The garden of Mino-no-kami at Yedo, in the place Akasaka-tame-ike, near a large pond, was that evening the place of rendezvous. More than one hundred of the conspirators met there to deliberate on their project. It was on this occasion that Toan first became acquainted with Mino-no-kami. Tchouan related to the prince, that Toan was charged with the direction of the conspiracy at Miyako, and that Tokdaïsi, would, in all probability, join their ranks. In support of this opinion, he took the verses from his ​pocket-book, and showed them to the company, who all drew from them the same conclusion.

It is related, that at this meeting a great noise was heard in the garden. Some persons ran with a light to see whence it proceeded, and found a serpent, upwards of ten feet long, coiled round a branch of a pine-tree, at the foot of which were a number of frogs apparently engaged with the reptile. The wind was very high. An unknown bird descended from the atmosphere and carried away the serpent; the frogs immediately plunged into the pond, from the surface of which rose a yellowish vapour. All the conspirators were astonished and terrified at this event. Daïni and Oumon were silent. The brother of the former said to him: “You have seen this prodigy; it is a sinister omen. There will be traitors among us by whom we shall be betrayed.” “I view it in a more favourable light,” replied Oumon; “all serpents feed upon frogs; but here the frogs were so numerous, that the serpent was unable to cope with them. The unknown bird, which came and carried it off, denotes that we shall make ourselves masters of Yedo.” The conspirators, cheered by this explanation, returned to their respective homes.

Abe-iyo-no-kami, the counsellor of state in ordinary, being informed that Yamagata-daïni and Fousi-oumon had for some time past held secret meetings, which were attended by a great number of persons, sent for the three servants of whom mention has been made above, and ordered them to use all possible means to obtain admittance to these meetings, and to ascertain their nature and object. They succeeded beyond their expectations. On enrolling themselves among the conspirators, they had promised implicit obedience, and had subscribed their engagement with their blood, which gained them the entire confidence of Daïni and Oumon. They were present at the conference in the evening just mentioned, and disclosed to their master all that had passed. He shuddered at the recital, and enjoined secrecy.

There was a mine at Youkounou-ginsan, in the province of Tamba^[44]. Yaski, servant to Tominaga-dozi, a disciple of Daïni’s, was sent thither to seduce the workmen. He knew that they were not at liberty to leave the mine: he nevertheless sent them money, victuals, and zakki, and when he had thus won ​their confidence and that of their overseer, he told them, that he had just received information, in a letter from his master, that a gold mine had been discovered in the mountain of Nikosan, near the tomb of Gongin; that the Djogoun had granted him permission to work it, but he was in want of skilful miners, and was therefore directed to take ten or twelve of them along with him to Yedo. The overseer observed, that this could not be done without difficulty, but if he would give the men double pay, they would run away in the night. To this he agreed, and engaged ten miners and two carpenters, who secretly carried the necessary implements to the houses of their friends, whence they fetched them at night, and fled with Yaski to Yedo. It was a very dark, tempestuous, and rainy night, when they reached the house of Daïni, who received them in a friendly manner, gave them something to eat and drink, and conducted them to Oda-mino-no-kami. Genba and Tanomo, his secretaries, assigned to them, for their habitation, an empty house, surrounded with a bamboo fence, to prevent them from leaving it. “You are brought hither,” said Genba, “at the instance of Oda-mino-no-kami, who has good intentions: what he requires of you is to make a secret way under ground by which he may escape in case of need.” They undertook the job, and declared their willingness to set about it immediately. He shewed them the place, on which they fell to work, and had soon advanced to the distance of three streets, whence they continued their operations to the interior of the place, close to the apartments of the hereditary prince, supporting the passage on either side with shores and rafters.

At the commencement of the conspiracy, Daïni had consulted two able military officers, Sato-gendeïyou and Momono-i-kiouma, respecting the means of gaining possession of Yedo. The former was always in want of money, and incessantly applying for more. Daïni was at length curious to know how he spent it; and finding that he applied it to his personal expenses, he refused any farther supply, and thought no more about him. Gendeïyou, exasperated at this treatment, complained of it to Kiouma and Miyasawa-sunso, representing that the enterprise could not possibly succeed, and that it would be better to disclose the plot to the first minister of state: they agreed to do so, in hopes of being rewarded by the Djogoun, and violated their oath. Kïouma and Sunso, accordingly, went to the house of ​Matsdaïra-oukon-no-siogin, the first counsellor of state. He was at the palace: they, therefore wrote a letter, which they sealed, and waited at the gate of entrance, where they were joined by Gendeïyo. When the counsellor of state arrived, they gave the letter to one of his attendants, who delivered it to his master in his norimon. Oukon-no-siogin, after reading it, desired them to walk in, and told them, that as it related to a matter of such importance, and which demanded a minute investigation, it was his duty to secure their persons. He immediately ordered them to be put in irons, and closely watched in an apartment, as though it were a prison.

After mature consideration, he sent the next day for Abe-iyo-no-kami, showed him the letter, and told him that he had detained the three informers. He represented to him, that if the examination were to take place in public, the conspirators, apprized of the discovery of their design, might accelerate its execution, and that it would be better to keep the matter as private as possible till all the accomplices should be apprehended. Iyo-no-kami replied, that he had long been acquainted with the whole affair; that three of his people had gained admittance among the conspirators, and informed him of all their proceedings, and that he coincided with him in regard to the propriety of secrecy, till they should have secured Daïni and Oumon. To accomplish this object, he ordered his three servants to entice Oumon into the street of the courtezans, at Yosiwara, and there to secure his person in the manner which he minutely described, recommending to them to be careful not to hurt him.

Daïni and Oumon knew not that their plot was discovered. The former repaired with Tchouan, Tchekawa-zezo, and Tateki-krobe, to Sinigawa, to divide their accomplices between the houses of Foucho and Fakoni, while Oumon and Itsouki remained at home to superintend matters in Daïni’s absence. Gensi and Rogouea found Oumon, who had caught a cold, in bed. They advised him to rise and take a walk with them to amuse himself. Itsouki urged him to the same effect, assuring him that he should not mind being left alone to take care of the house. Oumon at length consented, and dressed himself, on which all three went to the house of pleasure at Kikioya. The landlord provided a good dinner, and meanwhile sent for Kasousa, Yosino, and Segawa, three female favourites of Rogouea, Oumon, and Gensi, with whom they drank copiously, and then proceeded to the house where those ​girls lived. Kifadje, the chief domestic, offered Oumon a large plate full of all sorts of delicacies, and several young females came to bear them company, playing on the samsi, and dancing. While they were amusing themselves, Rogouea, having gone into another apartment, wrapped himself entirely, with the exception of his head, in a counterpane of red gilam, and returned in this state to the company, saying, that it was the devil’s dress, that he would run after them, and whoever he should first touch, should be obliged to take his place. The game began, and each strove to avoid him, but at length he touched Oumon’s mistress. According to the conditions of the game she should have taken Rogouea’s place, but she begged to be excused: Rogouea affected to insist on her compliance, till Oumon offered himself in her stead. As this was just what Rogouea wanted, he made no objection. Oumon was therefore wrapped in the counterpane, which was strongly bound on with cords: then, on a signal which Rogouea gave by whistling on a flageolet, several persons entered and seized Oumon. The latter was exasperated to the highest decree against Rogouea and Genso, and protested, that if he could have foreseen their treachery, he would certainly have killed them. They then put him into a nagemout, or box, which was tied with a thick rope, and in this manner he was conveyed to the house of Iyo-no-kami, who immediately dispatched emissaries to secure Daïni also. The chief officer, Tsoutsoumi-sadeïmon, marched before, followed by Soumoto-goroski, and after him Araki-tchosits, each accompanied by sixty persons: they entered the house, but found there Itsouki only, who told them that Daïni and Tchouan were at Souraga, and that Oumon had gone out for a walk, and was not yet returned. They secured Itsouki, searched the whole house, locked it up, put seals upon the door, and left it under the care of the officer of the ward.

Simisou-risou, the physician, seeing so many people go into the house, conceived that the plot was discovered, and hastily opening Daïni’s writing-desk, took out of it a paper, supposing it to be the engagement signed by the conspirators, and escaped by the back door.

Without stopping to examine the paper, Risou ran to the house of Iyo-no-kami, and desired to speak with the counsellor of state. Being admitted to his presence, he declared that Daïni and Oumon had formed a plot for the destruction of Yedo: that he had unfortunately been prevailed upon to join them, but ​foreseeing that their plan could not succeed, he had secured the written engagement entered into by the conspirators, with the intention of delivering it to the government; that he had accordingly come for the purpose of giving it to him, and hoped his repentance and the important service he was rendering to the state would obtain him his pardon. This Iyo-no-kami at first promised him: but, on opening the paper he found, instead of the expected document, a receipt for making tea. Enraged at the deception practised upon him he sent Risou to prison. Every thing connected with this affair being known to the three servants of Iyo-no-kami, the news of it soon spread.

The chief officers, after seizing Itsouki, set out for Sourouga， where, as they were informed, they should find Daïni and Tchoan. These two conspirators having proceeded thither with Zezo and Krobe, their accomplices, had stopped a night at Kanagawa at the house of the host Oyamaya-tanbi. They had bathed and were at supper in the hall, when the officers arrived at Kanagawa, and learning that the persons of whom they were in search were still there, they surrounded the house. They were seized without difficulty, bound with cords, thrown into carts over which nets were fastened, and in this state carried to the residence of the governor of Yedo, which they reached about ten o’clock.

Asakoura-rouwan, the physician, a skilful mechanic, was in the service of Matsdaïra-tolomi-no-kami, prince of Amagasaki, who transmitted orders to his secretary to arrest him and send him to Yedo. He was carried thither in a norimon enveloped with a net, and committed to the custody of the prince.

The governors had orders to seize Toan; they accordingly caused him to be apprehended by their people, who left him in the care of the officer of Goko-street.

Tchouan, Oumon, and Daïni, having been examined by Oukon-no-siogin and Iyo-no-kami, counsellors of state, and their declarations corresponding with the deposition of the three servants of the latter, it was deemed unnecessary to continue the interrogatories. Tchouan, Daïni, and Genba, were sent to prison; as for Oumon, a very strong and resolute man, they were obliged to construct for him a kind of separate prison, called fakoro, made of deal planks, two inches thick, joined together with iron plates, and covered on all sides with plates of the same metal in the form of crosses. Here he was kept strictly guarded about a year, during which time search was made at neighbouring ​sea-ports for his accomplices, but without effect. At length in the following year, the counsellors of state resolved to bring the affair to an issue.

On the 21st of the 8th month of the 4th year Tenwa (1767), Abe-iyo-no-kami read the sentence in presence of Tsoutsou-iyamatto-no-kami and Naïto-sikara. Oumon and Daïni were beheaded; the other accused persons were banished, removed from their posts, or reduced to inferior stations, according to the part which they appeared to have taken in the conspiracy. A list of these condemnations is given below^[45].

Some writers allow, that so mild a sentence reflects great honour on the humanity of Abe-iyo-no-kami; others ascribe it to the fear excited by the ​relatives of the conspirators, and assert, that Okamata-toan was acquitted from deference to the Daïri and apprehension of his resentment.

Yawataya-densaïmon, the rice merchant, a just and pious man, was the son of a poor labourer. After his father’s death, his mother kept him with her for two years, but poverty at length obliged her to put him to service, and to retire secretly from Yedo to enter herself into the service of a priest near Kokera. Densaïmon, deeply afflicted at the flight of his mother, often went into the temples to pray to the gods that he might find her again. Oumon had assisted him in his search, and at length discovered her. Densaïmon was so grateful for this kindness, that after the punishment of the conspirators, he requested permission to inter Oumon’s body in the temple of his sect, and to erect a stone over his grave, which was granted. He was suffered to keep the rice which he had purchased, but received orders to sell it as speedily as possible, and derived great profit from the speculation.

In the beginning of the month of September, 1783, I received from Yedo the following particulars of the dreadful ravages occasioned by the eruption of the volcano, Asama-ga-daki, in the districts of Djozou and Zinzou.

On the 28th of the 6th month of the third year Ten-mio (July 27, 1783), at eight o’clock in the morning, there arose in the province of Sinano^[46], a very strong east wind, accompanied with a dull noise like that of an earthquake, which increased daily, and foreboded the most disastrous consequences.

On the 4th of the seventh month (August 1st.), there was a tremendous noise and a shock of an earthquake; the walls of the houses cracked and seemed ready to tumble; each successive shock was more violent, till the flames burst forth, with a terrific uproar from the summit of the mountain, followed by a tremendous eruption of sand and stones: though it was broad day, every thing was enveloped in profound darkness, through which the flames alone threw at times a lurid light. Till the 4th of August the mountain never ceased to cast up sand and stones.

​The large village of Sakamoto and several others situated at the foot of the volcano were soon reduced to ashes by the ignited matter which it projected, and by the flames which burst from the earth. The inhabitants fled; but the chasms every where formed by the opening of the ground prevented their escape, and in a moment a great number of persons were swallowed up or consumed by the flames; violent shocks continued to be felt till the 8th of the seventh month, and were perceptible to the distance of twenty or thirty leagues: enormous stones and clouds of sand were carried by the wind toward the east and north.

The water of the rivers Yoko-gawa and Karousawa boiled; the course of the Yone-gawa, one of the largest rivers of Japan, was obstructed, and the boiling water inundated the adjacent country, doing incredible mischief. The bears, hyænas, and other beasts of prey, fled from the mountains, and flocked to the neighbouring villages, where they devoured the inhabitants, or mangled them in a horrible manner. The number of dead bodies floating upon the rivers was incalculable.

About the middle of the same month a more circumstantial account of this phenomenon was transmitted to me from Yedo. It is in substance as follows:—

From the 4th of the seventh month (August 1st.), there was heard, night and day, a rumbling like that of very loud thunder, which gradually increased in violence. On the 5th, a shower of sand and ashes fell on all sides; and on the 6th, the volcano projected at Ouye-wake an immense quantity of stones, some of which were so large that two persons were not able to carry them. Twenty-seven villages were swallowed up, and four only escaped, namely, Matsyeda, Yasouye, Takasakie, and Fousie-oka. At the last of these places there fell a shower of red-hot stones, each weighing four or five ounces. At two o’clock the same day, the mountain of Asama cast forth a torrent of flames and balls of fire; the earth shook in a frightful manner; the whole country was enveloped in darkness, and, though mid-day, it was not to be distinguished from the darkest night. The thunder was so tremendous, that the inhabitants were paralyzed with terror to such a degree as to appear inanimate. About ten o’clock there fell small stones mixed with sand and ashes at Fousie-oka, the ground was covered with them to the depth of eight or nine inches; at ​Yasouye they were fourteen or fifteen inches, and at Matsyeda three feet deep. All the growing crops were totally destroyed.

On the 7th, about one o’clock, several rivers became dry: at two a thick vapour was seen at Asouma over the river Tane-gawa, the black muddy water of which boiled up violently. An immense quantity of red-hot stones floating on the surface, gave it the appearance of a torrent of fire. Mokou, one of the life guards, and a great number of men and horses were swept away by the current and cast on shore at Nakanose, or carried along by the river Zin-meï-gawa.

On the 8th, at ten in the morning, a torrent of sulphur, mixed with rocks, large stones and mud, rushing from the mountain, precipitated itself into the river Asouma-gawa, in the districts of Djosou and Gemba-kori, and swelled it so prodigiously, that it overflowed, carried away houses, and laid waste the whole country. The number of persons who perished was immense.

At Zinya-tchekou, on the road to Naya-kama, there were incessant and violent shocks from the 6th to the 8th.

At Sakamoto-tchekou, there was a continued shower of red-hot stones from the 5th to the 6th.

At Fonsio-tchekou, gravel fell in an incessant torrent.

At Kouraye-sawa there fell such a prodigious quantity of red-hot stones, that all the inhabitants perished in the flames, with the exception of the chief magistrate: the exact number of the dead is not known.

On the 9th, about one o’clock, large trees and timbers of houses began to be seen floating on the river of Yedo, which was soon afterwards completely covered with the mangled carcasses of men and beasts. In the country of Zin-zou, the devastation extended over a tract of thirty leagues.

At Siomio, Asouma-kori, and Kamawara-moura, at the foot of Mount Asama, all the inhabitants perished excepting seventeen.

Half of the village of Daïzen-moura was carried away by the lava.

The villages of Nisikoubo-moura, Nakaï-moura, Fao-moura, Kousaki-fara-moura, and Matski-moura, totally disappeared.

At the village of Tsoubou-moura, the warehouse of Souki-sayemon was preserved; all the other houses, with the inhabitants, were swept away by the fiery deluge.

​The villages of Tsoutchewara-moura, Yokokabe-moura, Koto-moura, Kawato-moura, Fa-moura, Kawafarayou-moura, and Farada-moura, were likewise swept away.

Fifty-seven houses of the village of Misima-moura were swallowed up, and sixteen persons carried away by the torrent, which every where left a sediment of sand of the depth of ten feet.

At Gounba-kori, Kawasima and Fara-moura, out of one hundred and fifty-three houses, six only were left; the others were carried away.

The whole village of Obasi-moura disappeared.

The village of Ono-moura and the guard-house of Mokou, were swept away by a torrent of boiling mud.

The village of Yemaye-moura was completely buried by sand.

Many other villages, besides those here named, either partly disappeared with their inhabitants, or were swept away. It was impossible to determine the number of the dead, and the devastation was incalculable.

The annexed engraving will convey some idea of this tremendous catastrophe.

On the 24th of the third month of the fourth year Ten-mio (May 13th, 1784), Tonoma-yamassiro-no-kami, counsellor of state, returning home from the council with his father, Tonoma-tonomo-no-kami, counsellor in ordinary, and his

​other colleagues, was assassinated by a singo-ban, or soldier of the new guard, named Sanno-sinsayemon, who enjoyed a revenue of five hundred kokf. From all the circumstances attending this murder, it is to be presumed that several persons of the highest distinction were privy to, and encouraged, it; and the general hatred which those two counsellors of state had drawn upon themselves serves to confirm this opinion. It is even asserted, that the original intention was to kill the father, to prevent the reform which he and his son, who were in the highest favour with the Djogoun and his family, were successively introducing into the different departments of the state, and by which they had both incurred great odium. But it was considered that, as the father was old, death would naturally soon put a stop to his projects; whereas the son, who was in the prime of life, would have time to carry into effect all the innovations which they had planned; and that, moreover, it would be impossible to inflict a severer blow on the father than by snatching from him his only son. The death of the latter was, in consequence, determined upon.

The counsellors of state, who, as they return to their norimons, after the council has broken up, are accustomed to stop on the outside of the third door and converse together, that day separated. The three extraordinary counsellors of state, the prince of Dewa^[47], possessing a revenue of twenty-five thousand kokf; the prince of Mousadsi^[48], who has twelve thousand, and the prince of Totomi^[49], whose revenue amounts to fifty thousand and thirty-seven kokf, left the palace at the same time as Tonoma-yamassiro-no-kami; but as they walked very quickly, they left him at some distance behind them. Sanno-sinsayemon, who was on duty in the hall of Tsouyo-no-mar, seized the opportunity, and running up, gave him a violent cut with his sabre on the arm. Yamassiro had not time to put himself on the defensive and to draw his sabre; he strove, however, to parry the blows of the assassin with the sheath, but received four mortal wounds, which extended him on the floor.

The guards on duty with Sinsayemon, and those from the halls of Naka-no-ma, and Kikio-no-mar, came up on hearing the noise, but so leisurely that there is every reason to believe it to have been their intention to give the assassin time ​to escape. Meanwhile Matsdaira-fida-no-kami, chief inspector of the palace, a man upwards of sixty years old, seized him from behind, and clasping him in his aims, asked him his motive for committing such a crime. Sinsayemon quietly offered him his sabre, expressing the satisfaction he felt at having executed his design: he was then secured, and committed to the custody of the prince of Farima^[50], who possesses a revenue of fifty-one thousand and eighty-nine kokf. O-ota-biengo-no-kami turning back, ordered Yamassiro to be lifted into his norimon, and accompanied him to his house. Some assert that he had expired before he reached it, and others maintain the contrary.

As it is forbidden, upon pain of death, to draw a sabre in the palace, and this crime is not only punished by the death of the transgressor, but frequently involves his whole family in his fate, a report was circulated that Sanno-sinsayemon was insane. On the second of the fourth month (May 20th), it was signified to him, that Yamassiro had died of his wounds, and that he himself was sentenced to rip himself up. His eyes sparkled with joy on hearing of the death of his enemy, and, after taking leave of his friends, he courageously executed his sentence. His wife, a lady of exquisite beauty, and only twenty-two years of age, when informed of his death, commended his conduct, and plunged a dagger into her bosom with a courage equal to that of her husband.

The body of Yamassiro was privately interred in the night. The hatred and indignation of the people were so violent, that they threw stones from all sides at the coffin, and those who accompanied it. Sanno, on the contrary, became an object of public veneration. He was considered as a victim, who had devoted himself for his country. His grave, on which a stone has been erected as a mark of honour, is visited by all persons of distinction, and by the military, who repair thither to offer up prayers and thanksgiving for the service which he rendered to the state.

Sanno not only participated in the general hatred of Yamassiro, but was also instigated to the act by motives of private revenge. The Djogoun had ordered Tonomo-no-kami to build a mansion at Sagara, in the province of Sagami^[51]. Near this place is the village of Sanno, which belonged to ​Sinsayemon, and the proximity of which obstructed the execution of the order which Tonomo had received. He proposed to Sanno to exchange it for another; but he, to whose ancestors this village had been granted by Gongin, as a reward for their services, who not only derived from it a considerable revenue, but even bore its name, thought that it would be a disgrace to him to dispose of it, and rejected the proposal for an exchange. Tonomo dissembled his resentment, but so contrived matters, that, about a year afterwards, the Djogoun, at his instigation, expressed to Sanno a wish to possess his village. It was impossible to refuse the sovereign. Sanno, to his great regret, was obliged to comply, and another village was granted to him in exchange. As the Djogoun afterwards gave the village to Tonomo, Sanno inferred from what quarter the blow proceeded, and conceived, in consequence, the most violent animosity.

This was not all; some days afterwards, the Djogoun having gone out to take the diversion of hawking, attended by Yamassiro and Sinsayemon, the latter committed some slight fault; Yamassiro, who had not forgotten the refusal given by Sanno to his father, reprimanded him in the harshest terms, and forbade him to appear for some time at the palace, and in the presence of the Djogoun. This affront raised Sanno’s rage to the highest pitch. He resolved to take revenge, to which he was moreover excited by his mother and his wife, who represented to him, that it was better to die with honour than to live covered with shame. He accordingly sought a favourable opportunity, which occurred as I have related, the very day on which he was suffered to return to the palace.

After the affair had been minutely investigated, Sanno’s insanity was publicly acknowledged; this procedure pacified his family. The following orders were then proclaimed in the name of the Djogoun:

“Tonomo-yamassiro-no-kami has been assassinated by Sanno-sinsayemon, of the new guard: you apprehended the murderer. The Djogoun acknowledges that you have rendered an important service in thus preventing the disturbances which such an event might have occasioned: as a reward for it your revenues are increased two hundred kokf.”

​This order was read at the palace, in the hall of Fiyonoma, in presence of the counsellors of state. His salary amounted previously to one thousand kokf.

“When the counsellors of state were leaving the palace on the 24th of last month, Tonomo-yamassiro-no-kami was grievously wounded near the hall of Kikio-no-mar, by Sanno-sinsayemon, one of the new guard, who is become insane: you were present, and did not hasten so quickly as you ought to have done to seize the assassin. Yamassiro, who defended himself with the sheath of his sabre, is dead in consequence of his wounds. As inspectors it was your duty to prevent this misfortune; you are, therefore, forbidden to appear at the palace till further orders.”

Ando-goyasemon and Yosi-sinsayemon had but a small salary, because their fathers were yet living, and both in the service of the Djogoun.

“On the 24th of last month, when the counsellors of state were quitting the palace, Sanno-sinsayemon, one of the new guard, who is become insane, grievously wounded Tonomo-yamassiro-no-kami. You were in the hall of Nakanoma. You say, that when you saw the assassin running with his drawn sabre towards the hall of Kikio-no-mar, you ran after him; but Matsdaïra-tchousima-no-kami, who apprehended him, was farther from him than you. You might have saved Yamassiro, who was obliged to defend himself with the sheath of his sabre, and died of his wounds. As inspectors it was your duty to prevent this misfortune: as a punishment for your negligence, you are dismissed from your places.”

“When the counsellors of state were returning, on the 24th of last month, from the palace, &c. &c.

“You were on guard with Sinsayemon. You saw him rise and run towards the hall of Nakanoma: you at first followed him, but turned back, because no person was left at the guard-house. This is not a sufficient excuse. When you saw him rise and draw his sabre, you ought to have seized and stopped him. As a punishment for your negligence you are dismissed from your places.”

These three orders were communicated to those whom they concerned, in the house of Kanno-totomi-no-kami, extraordinary counsellor of state, in the presence of the sub-inspector, Yamagawa-simosa-no-kami.

“When the counsellors of state were returning, on the 24th of last month, from the palace, &c. &c.

“Sinsayemon drew his sabre. You were in the hall of Tsouye-no-mar, and saw him. You ought to have seized him. Through your negligence Tonoma-yamassiro-no-kami received several wounds, which occasioned his death. As a punishment you are forbidden to appear at the palace till farther orders.”

This order was signified to them at the residence of the prince of Kasousa^[52], counsellor of state in ordinary, in the presence of the first inspector O-oya-totomi-no-kami.

Though I left Japan in the month of November, 1784, my correspondence with that country, during my residence in India, enables me to subjoin the following particulars:

​The Djogoun Yee-farou died on the 8th of the 9th month of the 6th year Ten-mio (1780), and was interred in the temple of Ouyeno at Yedo. After his death the priests gave to him the name of Sun-mio-in.

Yee-farou had six children:—1. A daughter, who died young. 2. A daughter, married to the prince of Owari, and since dead. 3. A son, Yee-moto, elected heir-apparent, but died on the 24th of the second month of the eighth year An-ye (April 10, 1779), as it is said, of a spitting of blood, occasioned by falling with his horse down a precipice while hunting. 4. A son, who died at the age of three years. 5. An adopted daughter, married in the fourth month of the third year Ten-mio (May 1783), to the son of the prince of Kidjo. 6. An adopted son, the reigning Djogoun.

Minamotto-no-yeye-nari, grandson of Moune-kore, fourth son of Yosi-moune, and adopted by Yee-farou, was then betrothed to the daughter of Matsdaïra-satsouma-no-kami-sige-fide, who possesses a revenue of seven hundred and seventy-eight thousand kokf. The Djogouns always strive to secure the attachment of these princes by marriages; and this was the principal cause of his adoption.

On the 29th of the first month of the eighth year Ten-mei, (March 6th, 1788), at three o’clock in the morning, a terrible conflagration broke out at Miyako, and continued till the 1st of the second month (March 8th), and reduced that splendid city to ashes. This disaster is ascribed to the imprudence of a maid-servant, who fell asleep near a lighted furnace, and whose sleeve caught fire. Roused all at once, she hastily stripped off her robe, and threw it from her against the paper partition, to which the flames communicated. The whole house was soon in a blaze. Unluckily the wind was just then very high; and as the houses at Miyako are mostly built of planks, and covered with shingles, the wind blew the burning materials in every direction, so that, in less than ​an hour, the city was on fire in more than sixty places, and it was impossible to extinguish the conflagration. The whole city was soon in flames, and the terrified inhabitants relinquished all thoughts of saving any thing but their lives.

The Daïri was obliged to quit his palace, and retired to the temple of Sinio-gamo. The streets through which he had to pass were crowded with people, and in order to clear the way, his guards were necessitated to kill more than a thousand persons.

The fire commenced in the south-east part of the city, to the east of the river Gosio. The wind, which blew with great violence from the east, soon carried the flames from the other side of the river, and of the bridge of Gosio-basi, westward to the great temples of Figasi, Fonguan-si, and Tosi. It then veered to the west, which drove the fire into the heart of the city; and afterwards changed to the south-east, when the whole north-west part, with the castle, and the residences of the chief judge and governors, were consumed. The wind once more changed, and blew from the north-west with increased fury; the flames, in consequence, spread all around, and destroyed what was yet left, with the castle of the Daïri and all his palaces. After this it again turned, and blew towards the river Gosio. Every thing was nearly consumed, and the fire had raged for three whole days, when it was at length subdued. Nothing was left standing but part of the exterior walls of the castle; all the other buildings, the rice warehouses, and magazines, that were said to be fire-proof, fell a prey to the flames.

The Daïri, who, when he perceived that his palace was in danger, had retired with his whole court towards the temple of Simo-gamo, situated at the distance of a mile to the north-east of the city, was forced by the thick smoke and the burning brands blown about by the wind, to turn off more to the east, to the temple of Sogo-in, a mile and a half distant; but thinking himself still unsafe, he left that place, and proceeded to the temple on the high mountain of Yeï-san, three miles to the north-east of Miyako, which he still makes his residence, having the two governors of Miyako for door-keepers. His people saved as much as they possibly could of his most valuable effects; but seven spacious store-houses, full of money, curiosities, works of art, and rich stuffs, were consumed by the flames.

​The want and distress occasioned by this disaster surpass description. The rice and provisions brought from the neighbouring country for the relief of the inhabitants were carried off by force, on the arrival of the vessels, by the famishing multitude. Not the smallest piece of wood or bamboo was left for the erection of hovels or tents, so that the inhabitants were forced to pass the night in the open air. The temples were filled with the servants of the Daïri and other persons of distinction. Of this extensive and magnificent city, so populous and so flourishing, the capital of the empire, and the centre of commerce, the streets of which amounted to four thousand, and where the wealthiest merchants had their establishments, nothing was left but the walls on the south-west; on the north-west, only a few houses; a temple of the national religion of Japan on the east, and another of the Buddhists on the north-north-east.

Messengers were dispatched in haste to Yedo with intelligence of this disaster. They were directed to give information that the palace of the Daïri had been reduced to ashes, and that this prince solicited succour in order to rebuild it. At Miyako a prohibition was published, forbidding any person whatever to build, or do any kind of work for himself, till the Daïri was provided with a suitable residence. At Osaka it was likewise forbidden to work in wood or bamboo, or to execute any kind of gilding, till the palace of the Daïri should be rebuilt, and furnished with every thing necessary.

The fire continued to lurk under the ruins, and it was not completely extinguished in the evening of the 12th of March, notwithstanding the heavy rain which began to fall on the 11th, and lasted upwards of twenty-four hours.

According to another account, it was not to the mountain of Yeïsan, but to the temple of Sore-eng-ingoso, to the east-south-east, that the Daïri repaired, when forced to shift his quarters for the third time. When he first quitted his palace and the city at the beginning of the conflagration, he was in his ordinary carriage which was drawn by oxen, surrounded by his people with drawn sabres in their hands, and by his wives and concubines, armed with sheathed sabres: but being pursued by the fire, and finding the pace of the oxen too slow to secure him from the rapid progress of the flames, he resolved to alight and make his escape on foot. It is customary to pick the rice dressed for the Daïri’s use grain by grain with a small stick: the plates, dishes, bowls, and ​other table utensils are broken as soon as he has done with them: in like manner the pots and culinary utensils in which his food is prepared, are used only once, and then changed for others; but, in the general consternation caused by so dreadful a calamity, these different customs could not be strictly observed. The Daïri was therefore obliged to live for two days on common rice, and his cooks during all that time were forced to use the same utensils.

The prohibition to sell and to work up materials for re-building the houses, before a new palace should be finished for the Daïri, was mitigated, from an apprehension lest great part of the inhabitants should retire and settle in the adjacent provinces. The prohibition itself was not indeed repealed; but, for the encouragement of the inhabitants, they were permitted to receive and employ the materials which their friends might send them from the environs by way of presents. In consequence of this permission, all who possessed the means were at liberty to procure for money whatever they had occasion for.

It is impossible to state precisely the number of victims who perished in this fatal catastrophe. It was fortunate that the fire did not break out till it was nearly light; had it begun in the middle of the night, the loss of lives would have been much greater.

Mankind in general are disposed to ascribe all extraordinary events to supernatural causes: thus, there were persons who asserted, that this conflagration was kindled by three balls of fire which fell from the sky. So much is certain, that a tremendous tempest of thunder and lightning, accompanied with the piercing cries of men and beasts, tended to aggravate its horrors. The flames which, at other times destroy wood and other substances of that nature only, consumed iron itself. The very stones seemed to vomit forth fire. Many people, therefore, considered this event as a severe punishment of heaven.

On the 18th of the first month of the fifth year Kouan-sei (1793), about five o’clock in the afternoon, the whole summit of the mountain of Unsen fell in, and the cavity thus formed was so deep, that it was impossible to hear the noise made in falling by the stones that were thrown into it. Torrents of boiling ​water gushed from all parts, and the vapour which rose from it resembled a thick smoke. The latter phænomenon ceased in a few days.

On the 6th of the second month there was an eruption of the volcano of Bivo-no-koubi, about half a league from its summit. The flame ascended to a great height; the lava which ran down, spread with rapidity at the foot of the mountain, and in a few days the whole country for several miles round was in flames. The fire consumed all the trees on the neighbouring heights, and the valley, in which it made the greatest havoc, was soon covered with relics of burnt matter, and filled with stones and ashes. The fire was not like ordinary fire; it was sparkling and of a reddish colour, interrupted from time to time by brown blazes. On the 1st of the third month, at ten o’clock at night, a tremendous earthquake was felt throughout the whole island of Kiou-siou^[53], but particularly in the province of Simabara. The first shock was so violent that people could scarcely keep on their legs: they were seized at the same time with a complete stupefaction, so that they had scarcely presence of mind to provide for their personal safety. Immense rocks were precipitated from the mountain; the earth opened; the houses were shaken with such force, that the inhabitants durst not stay in them for fear of being crushed in the ruins. Neither could they venture to stop any where, from apprehension of the inundation which usually follows a violent earthquake; and the recollection of what had happened some years before in Sinano, as already related in the proper place, heightened the terror of the inhabitants. Carrying the sick and the children in their arms, they set out in troops in quest of some place of refuge from a similar calamity. Nothing was to be heard but cries, lamentations, and fervent prayers, imploring the protection of heaven. The shocks having ceased, in a few hours they returned to their homes. Some houses were demolished, and their inmates buried in the ruins: but fortunately, the mischief was not so great as had been feared.

The mountain, meanwhile, continued burning, and the lava spread obliquely toward the castle; but being stopped in its course by a great number of rocks, ​it turned slowly to the north. The inhabitants were in terrible alarm, because the shocks were incessantly recurring though with less violence than at first.

On the 1st of the fourth month, about noon, when every body was at dinner, a fresh shock was felt with a motion which lasted upwards of an hour and a half, and became more and more violent, threatening all around with instant destruction. It was not long before several houses beyond the castle were ingulphed with their inhabitants, which seemed to be the signal for the most dreadful disasters. The cries of men and animals aggravated the horrors of the catastrophe. Prodigious rocks rolling from the mountain, overthrew and crushed every thing that happened to be in their way. A tremendous noise, resembling loud and repeated discharges of artillery, was heard under-ground and in the air: at length, when the danger was supposed to be over, a horrible eruption of Mount Miyiyama took place: the greatest part of it was exploded into the air, fell into the sea, and by its fall raised the water to such a height as to inundate both the town and country. At the same time, an enormous quantity of water, issuing from the clefts of the mountain, met the sea-water in the streets and produced whirlpools, which, in some places, washed away the very foundations of the houses, so as to leave not a vestige of habitations. The castle alone remained uninjured, because the water could not penetrate its strong massive walls: several houses near it were so completely destroyed, that not one stone was left upon another. Men and beasts were drowned by the flood. Some were found suspended from trees, others standing upright, others kneeling, and others again on their heads in the mud; and the streets were strewed with dead bodies. Out of all those who fled for the purpose of seeking refuge in the castle, a very small number effected their escape, and all these had received more or less injury. The cries of those who were still alive beneath the ruins pierced the heart, and yet no assistance could be rendered them. At length, recourse was had to the expedient of sending fifty criminals from the castle to remove the rubbish, for the purpose of extricating such of the miserable wretches as were still living, and of interring the dead. Of those who were taken out of the ruins, some had their legs, others their arms, or other members, fractured. The tubs which are used in Japan instead of coffins for burying the dead, were uncovered in the cemeteries, or broken, the large stones laid over them having been carried away by the torrent. Thus the whole ​country was all at once transformed into a desert: but the province of Figo, opposite to Simabara, is reduced to a still more deplorable state. Its form seems to have been entirely changed; not the least trace of what it was formerly is now to be discovered. A great number of vessels, which lay at anchor in the neighbourhood, went to the bottom: and an incredible multitude of carcases of men and beasts, and other wrecks, were brought down by the current, so that the snips could scarcely force a passage through them. The wretchedness that every where prevails is inexpressible, and fills the spectator with horror. The number of those who are known to have perished exceeds fifty-three thousand: and it is impossible to describe the consternation produced by this catastrophe.

The annexed plate represents the theatre of devastation.

​The ordinary title of the Djogoun is Kio; thus he is called Yosi Moune Kio, Yeye Farou Kio. He is also styled as follows:—Siunwa Siogak-rio-in-no-beto-gensi-no-tchosia Zi-i-daï Djogoun^[54].

The Djogoun is also honoured by the Daïri with a rank and office at his court. A formal embassy is sent from Miyako to carry the intelligence, and deliver the characteristic insignia, and is always accompanied with great pomp and festivity. Besides the above titles, common to all the Djogouns, the Daïri has conferred on some of these princes particular distinctions.

Thus Yeye-yasou obtained the rank of Tchou-itche-i, and the office of Oudaïsin.

Fide-fada had the rank of Tchou-itche-i, and was Faïdio Daïsin.

Yeye-mitsou had the same rank, and was Sadaïjin.

Yeye-tsouna had the rank of Djo-ni-i, and was Oudaïsin.

Tsouna-yosi had the same rank and office.

Yeye-nobou was Nadaïsin.

Yeye-tsougou was also Nadaïsin.

Yosi-moune was Oudaïsin.

Yeye-sige and Yeye-farou held the same office, and, as well as the preceding Djogoun, had the rank of Djo-ni-i.

The present Djogoun, Yeye-nari, while heir-apparent, or Taïsi, was Daïnagon.

Though the Daïri is considered at the court of the Djogoun, to use their own expression, as a hand with two fingers, or as a piece of ancient japanned ware that is highly esteemed for its beauty, the Djogouns affect to set a high value on favours of this kind; a circumstance which flatters the pride of the Daïris, and seems to cheer them in their state of dependence. The Djogouns have the more reason to act thus, because, as the Daïri is a descendant of Tensio-daïsin, and regarded as the supreme head of the empire, manifest proofs of his ​displeasure might furnish a pretext for enterprises, that would occasion the greatest commotions: for many of the most powerful princes, ashamed of the servitude to which they are reduced, would eagerly fly to his assistance, in hopes of putting an end to their own humiliation, and shaking off an ignominious yoke.

On the first of the first month, at seven in the morning, all the grandees of the empire, as well as the principal officers and those of inferior rank, assemble at the palace, where the guards are relieved every six hours. All the persons upon guard wear robes of black silk, bearing their coats of arms, and marked at the height of the knees, with stripes, or small squares, red or white. This kind of robe is called nosime; and besides it they have a very simple dress of ceremony.

On this day admittance is given, in the first place, to the princes of Owari, Kidjo, and Mito^[1], with the family and brothers of the Djogoun; then to the Kok-djou, or sovereign princes; the Djodjou, or princes of the second order; ​the Rio-djou or Foudaï^[2]; the body guards^[3], and the inferior officers. Each of them is in siosok, or, a state-dress with long sleeves, according to ancient custom: they bow their heads to the mats which cover the floor, and pay their compliments to the Djogoun on occasion of the new year, each from the place assigned to him by his rank.

The princes of the first class, who are in their provinces on that day, send an ambassador to present a wooden sabre and an oban in their name. The sabre implies that they engage to repair to the assistance of the Djogoun in case of need; and the oban serves instead of a present of horses: it is, therefore, denominated kin-ba-dai, which signifies, something substituted for horses. The ambassador, on his arrival at the palace, is introduced into the hall Sitsinoma, by the Sosio-ban, to whom the present is there delivered.

After the customary compliments, the Djogoun offers to the highest of the princes a little jug full of zakki; the prince, having made his obeisance, drinks the liquor and returns the jug to the Djogoun. The same ceremony is observed in regard to the second, and so on with all the rest, who are entitled by their rank to this honour. Those of less elevated rank do not return the jug to the Djogoun, and one of the deputies of the Mondo-no-kami pours out the zakki for them.

On the second day of the month, the princes who were prevented from attending on the preceding day, pay their respects. To obviate trouble and confusion, one of the inspectors previously writes down their names. The princes of Owari, Kidjo, and Mito, who are honoured with the title of Gosanke (the three distinguished families), are obliged to attend on the first, as are likewise the relatives and brothers of the Djogoun.

​On this day, the ordinary and extraordinary counsellors of state, the lords of the temples, and the other principal officers of the court, are in like manner admitted to an audience. Each of them presents to the Djogoun, according to ancient custom, a string of sepikkes, a sort of small copper coin, with a square hole in the centre. This ceremony is not performed by the grandees admitted to the presence of the Djogoun on the preceding day.

The sons of princes, who have yet neither place nor rank, are also admitted on the second day of the month.

On the third, those are received who have been hindered from attending on the two former days. On these three days the guards of the halls of the palace are on duty by six in the morning, and the whole day till evening are attired in the robe of black silk and the habit called kamisimo^[4]. All the officers of the palace retain this costume till the seventh of the month, and also wear it when the Djogoun goes into the fouki-age, or inner garden of the palace.

In the evening, the Djogoun goes with the hereditary prince into the first great hall, Ofiroma^[5] where they seat themselves on an elevated place. The four chief musicians meet in the hall, called Sotits-noma, which signifies, the hall painted with iron-trees, and thence repair to the Djogoun, to play tunes suitable to the occasion. Formerly the princes who waited upon the Djogoun were alone admitted; but at present the princes of the blood, such as those of Kaga, Satsouma, Mouts, Yetchezen, and Nagotto, are allowed to be present, as are likewise several other princes, and such of the life-guards as are of the fifth rank^[6]. No other person, even though of higher rank, or possessing a larger income, is admitted. Those of the rank of Go-i wear also long-sleeved robes, which the others are not allowed to do.

Each prince presents the Djogoun with a varnished cup, on which are ​painted, in gold, representations of cranes, tortoises, fir-trees, and bamboos, as determined by a special regulation. The princes of Kaga and Omi alone have a right to give saucers, on which is painted the figure of the nasouma, or cabbage.

The Djogoun then begins to drink zakki. Meanwhile the Sozin, or master of the ceremonies, the only person who has the privilege of speaking to the Djogoun on this occasion, makes his report to him of the gifts presented by each of the princes. The zakki is poured out by a member of the family of Isikawa or Itakoura. Kouanze-dayou, or the first singer, then sings the piece intituled Sikaï-nami. The custom of singing this piece at public rejoicings, has been practised ever since the time of Yeye-mitsou, the third Djogoun, with whom it originated on the following occasion:

This prince dreamt, in the course of the first month, that all his teeth had dropped out. This dream made him extremely melancholy, and gave great uneasiness to his friends, who were apprehensive that it was an unlucky omen, and perhaps prognosticated the death of some one of his relations. They could find no other means of tranquillizing his mind, than by causing the song, Sikaï-nami, to be sung, in which there is this passage:―

“The god, Tsoumi-yosi, lived several years under a fir-tree; he collected every day the leaves that fell from it, and attained a very advanced age.”

As fa signifies both a leaf and a tooth, the dream was favourably explained. The Djogoun, in his joy, stripped off his cloak of state and gave it to the chief singer, and all the princes and officers who were present followed his example. The custom is kept up to this day.

When the music is finished, the Djogoun takes off his kami or mantle, and gives it to the Kouanze-dayou; and all the princes, and even the life-guards, do the same. The next day, an inspector of the troops who accompany the Djogoun, calls in his name on the Kouanze-dayou, and delivers to him, in exchange for the kami, ten bars of silver, each of the value of four taël three mas, or altogether forty-three taël (about 8l. sterling).

The princes return home at night, and a fire is kindled at the front and another at the back gate of the palace to light them.

The 4th and 5th are vacant days, on which the Djogoun amuses himself with hawking.

​On the 6th, he receives the compliments of the priests of the sect of the Sintos and Chaka, the physicians, architects, falconers, directors of the mint, and all the principal tradesmen and artisans. On this day the officers do not wear long-sleeved robes; they are merely dressed in a cloak and breeches of a particular form.

The 7th is the day of the nanakousa. This word denotes a pottage made of seven kinds of vegetables, which began to be used under Ouda-ten-o, the 59th Daïri, in the second year Kouan-ye, or of our era, 890. It is recorded in the work Kousi-Kongen, that on the first day of the Rat, of the first month, Ouda-ten-o celebrated a festival, and entertained all his servants with kaï, or pottage, composed of rice and red beans. From this festival dates the institution of the nanakousa. All the princes repair to the palace at six in the morning, as they do on the 1st and 2d, habited in the nosime and kamisimo. From the remotest period, this day has been the first grand day of ceremony. All the guards are at their posts by six o’clock in the morning.

On the 8th, all the princes down to the lowest placeman wear, in the palace, plaited robes, or robes of half state; the guards take their posts at seven in the morning.

This being the anniversary of the death of Genyou-in-sama, or Yeye-tsouna, a counsellor in ordinary goes to pray, in behalf of the Djogoun, in the temple of Ouyeno, where that prince was interred: he is preceded by an inspector of the troops, four inspectors of the ordinary servants, and fifteen officers.

On the 8th of every month, a counsellor goes to this temple to pray, in the name of the Djogoun. All the officers just mentioned are then habited in a nosime and a dress of ceremony. In general, the officers merely put on the robe of ceremony over their other garments; but on this day they wear a nosime.

The 9th, being the anniversary of the death of Djo-yen-in, consort of Genyou-in, an extraordinary counsellor of state goes to the same temple, in the name of the Djogoun: he is accompanied by the persons mentioned above, and in the same costume.

On the 10th, the Djogoun goes to the temple of Ouyeno to pray at the tombs of Yeye-mitsou, Yeye-tsouna, Tsouna-yosi, and Yosi-moune. He leaves the palace in a norimon, or palanquin, dressed in a nosime and trowsers. On ​reaching the residence of the high-priest, the son of the Daïri, he puts on a similar dress to that worn on new year’s day, which is the real Japanese dress of state, and is worn by the Daïri. His carriage, which goes before him, is provided by the inspector with every thing necessary; it is then perfumed with kalambak wood, and carefully examined by the guard, by whom it is delivered to the chief coachman.

The bearers of the norimon, on their arrival at the high-priest’s, put on white dresses, and in this manner walk on each side of the carnage.

At five places on the way from the gate of the palace to the temple there is a strong guard, called Mitsi-ban, or guard of the road. The three governors of Yedo repair to the Tsousikaïbasi, or oblique bridge, where the Djogoun gets into his carriage, to pay their respects to him.

All the environs of the temple are occupied by troops armed with muskets, pistols, bows and arrows. The place of sepulture is also surrounded on the outside by soldiers; the officers, who are very numerous, and called singo-ban, are within. The Djogoun, in going to the temple from the high-priest’s, is in like manner encompassed by his guards.

At the moment when he sets out from the palace, an express is dispatched in all haste to give notice at the temple of his departure. When he arrives at the bridge, another express is sent off, and a third when he reaches the outer gate of the temple: each express consists of two horsemen. The same ceremonial is observed when the Djogoun returns to the palace.

When the Djogoun visits the temple of Ouyeno, his train is composed of

1. A norimon, or palanquin, the bottom of which is made of a mat, with a velvet covering, on which is another thin mat, that the plaits of his garments may not be ruffled.

2. Another norimon, resembling the former, to be used in case of need: the covering is made of cloth.

3. An awning, borne on each side by servants over the norimon, in case of rain.

4. Two fassambaks, or portmanteaus, in one of which there is a superb hunting-horn, round which is twisted a strong silk cord with a pendant loop: it is wrapped in some costly stuff.

5. Two fassambaks, containing two long silk ropes and two shorter.

​6. Two mino-baks, or valises, with a cloth awning against rain, a cloak, and the covering of the norimon.

7. A mito-boukouro, or basket with a lid, containing the hat in case of rain.

8. The daï-gasa, or hat wrapped in cloth, and borne on a pike.

9. A small parasol.

10. An umbrella with a long handle.

All these articles are covered with black cloth.

11. A pike; the iron point is in a case of tiger-skin, the end of which hangs down from the point: for this reason it is called nagisaya, or long sheath.

12. Another pike, called sou-yari, with a guard like a halbert.

13. Two cases, one for a long sabre, the other for a shorter.

The Djogoun, when he visits the temple of Ouyeno, or that of Zo-sio-si, or when he goes out a-hawking, is never accompanied by any other train, with the exception of bows, arrows, and horses; and for hunting and other sports he has a narrower and shorter norimon, for the purpose of penetrating the more easily into the forests.

On the 11th, the O-goussok-go-siougi is celebrated in the following manner: the Djogoun’s cuirass is taken out of its case, and before it is placed an offering of large cakes of rice. This ceremony is practised by all persons belonging to the army. Those who are in the service of government, or lead a private life, in like manner present offerings before whatever bears the strongest analogy to their profession. Thus our interpreters place a Dutch book on a table, and set their offering before the book.

On this day, all the Djogoun’s kinsmen, the grandees, civil officers, and physicians, repair to the palace to pay their respects.

The cakes are then sent to the kitchen. As they have been left before the case of the cuirass from new-year’s day till the 11th, they are very dry and full of cracks. In order to cut them a bow-string is introduced into these cracks; a knife must not be used for this purpose, because the knife is an instrument of a similar nature to the sabre, and as the cake represents the cuirass, if the sabre were to touch the cuirass, this would be a bad omen.

The same day the Djogoun employs himself with the poets in making verses. This practice was introduced during the reign of Gongin, who once composed some poetry on that day with Nobou-naga, and who afterwards, in a war with ​Takeda-katsou-yori, vanquished him also on this day. The 11th of the first moon has been ever since devoted to poetical composition at the palace. From the most ancient times, poetry has been held an honourable occupation at the court of the Daïris, many of whom are recorded in history to have excelled in it. It still continues to be pursued with the same ardour. A taste for poetry has thus been gradually diffused among the Japanese of all classes. They generally endeavour to express ingenious thoughts with as few words as possible, and to employ words of ambiguous meaning for the purpose of allusions. There are two species of poems:―the Outa, or Waka, is composed of five lines of 5, 7, 5, 7, and 7 characters. The Nag-aouta, or long poem, has as many as the writer pleases; the lines are of five and seven words, and the last two lines must each contain seven. These two kinds of poems are composed in firokanna, or women’s writing.

The two poetical works held in the highest esteem are, the Ko-kin-djou, or collection of poems, ancient and modern, by Kinotsoura-inki; and the Manyo-zou, a collection of ancient poems, from the time of Suisin-ten-o, the tenth Daïri, to Daigo-ten-o, the sixtieth, by Fatsi-banna-no-moroye.

On the 15th, all the princes, as well as the superior and inferior officers, call to pay their respects to the Djogoun, attired in a nosime and kamisimo. This is done on the 1st and 15th of every month, or at the new and full moon.

On the 17th, the Djogoun repairs to the temple of Momisi-yama^[7] to pray, accompanied by all the princes who are then in Yedo, and all the superior and inferior officers. On this occasion the Djogoun is carried in an open norimon. Persons in mourning are not admitted into the palace cither on this or the preceding day.

On his return an express is sent thither from the temple; a second is dispatched, when he arrives at the gate of Fasou-iki; and a third when he is on the bridge of the castle.

On the 20th, the anniversary of the death of Youtok-in, or Yosi-moune, a ​counsellor extraordinary goes to the temple of Ouyeno, to perform devotions in the name of the Djogoun.

On the 24th, the Djogoun repairs to the temple of Zo-sio-si to pray. He is attended by the same retinue as on the 10th. Three expresses are in like manner dispatched; the first, when the prince enters the norimon, to inform the high-priest of his departure; the second, from the Torra-no-gomon, or old gate of the castle, and the third, from the back gate of the temple. When he sets out on his return, an express is sent to the Ginkouan, or the great guard-house at the entrance of the palace; the second, from the old gate; and the third, from the gate Sakourada, of the Nisi-no-mar, or the second palace, inhabited by the hereditary prince.

The retinue of the Djogoun, when he visits the temples of Ouyeno and Zo-sio-si, or goes out a hawkinig, consists of:—

01. Two soldiers with outspread fans^[8], who give notice to passengers by their gestures and shouts to clear the way.

02. Two soldiers, marching abreast.

03. Two other soldiers, marching like the preceding.

04. Several horses richly caparisoned with beautiful flowered stuffs and bows of ribands, each horse led by two grooms.

05. Two portmanteaus under the care of two inspectors of the domestics.

06. An inspector of troops.

07. An inspector of the palace.

08. The daï-gasa, or hat, placed on a pike, and wrapped in black cloth.

09. A small parasol.

10. A parasol with a long stick.

11. An umbrella with a long stick.

12. Thirty soldiers, headed by four officers.

13. A superior officer.

14. An inspector of menial servants.

​15. An inspector of the palace.

16. A certain number of soldiers, in several files.

17. The inspector-general of the castle.

18. The Djogoun’s life-guards.

19. The Boos, or pages of the palace.

20. The naginata, or long-hilted scimitar.

21. The Djogoun’s norimon.

22. The commanding officers of the guard, and the extraordinary counsellors, with their attendants.

23. Two ordinary pikes, and one in the form of a halbert.

24. The nagi-saya, or pike with the long tiger-skin sheath.

25. The sou-yori, or pike with a guard.

26. An inspector of the palace.

27. An inspector of the troops.

28. The tcha-binto, a kind of chests, containing all the requisites for making tea.

29. Two cases for sabres, guarded by four soldiers.

30. Two mino-bako, or covered baskets, in case of rain.

31. Two mito-bokouro, or paniers, likewise with coverings.

32. A second norimon, to be used in case any accident should happen to the other, accompanied by several attendants.

33. The okatche-ozaye, or soldier, who closes the procession.

34. A detachment of soldiers.

35. An inspector of the castle, who is the last of the train.

The 28th is an ordinary levee-day, in the first, fourth, seventh, and twelfth months; and in the other months, those who have admittance go to the palace in state dresses.

On the 29th and 30th, according as the month has thirty or only twenty-nine days, an ordinary counsellor goes, on behalf of the Djogoun, to perform devotions at the temple of Zo-sio-si, because it is the anniversary of the death of Yee-tsougou.

If spring commences in the course of this month, all the princes and officers pay their respects to the Djogoun on the first day of that season.

On the 1st, the relatives of the Djogoun, all the princes and the officers, assemble at the palace; each of them is presented with a piece of certain cakes, made during the twelfth month, with sixteen bales of rice grown in the province of Mikawa, in which Gongin was born. They are made at Yedo, and thence sent to Niko^[9], to be offered at the tomb of Gongin. There they are left some days, and then carried back to Yedo.

The high-priest of Yedo, who is in some measure the primate of Japan, and always one of the sons of the Daïri, repairs to the palace. The Djogoun and the hereditary prince go to meet him, and first receive from him a piece of the cakes prepared for distribution. The Djogoun himself then gives a piece to each of the princes and officers; and when the distribution is finished, an inspector of the palace and one of the officers carry what is left to the temple of Momisi-yama, where they throw it into a well.

The 15th is a levee day at court.

Every month a counsellor of state in ordinary goes, on certain days, to the temples of Ouyeno and Zo-sio-si, to offer up prayers in the name of the Djogoun, when the prince cannot visit them in person.

The days fixed for this duty are:

The 10th, at the temple of Ouyeno; this is the anniversary of the death of Tsouna-yosi.

The 14th, at the temple of Zo-sio-si; the anniversary of the death of Yeye-nobou.

The 20th, at the temple of Ouyeno; the anniversary of the death of Yosi-moune.

​The 24th, at the temple of Ouyeno; the anniversary of the death of Sintokou-in.

The 29th or 30th, at the temple of Zo-sio-si; the anniversary of the death of Yeye-tsougou.

On the 17th of every month, a counsellor of state goes, on behalf of the Djogoun, to the temple of Momisi-yama.

On the 28th, there is no levee at court.

On the 1st, the envoy of the Dutch Company is admitted to an audience of the Djogoun. He first waits some time in the hall, Tensio-no-ma, or the drawing-room for the ambassadors of the Daïri and those of the Corea. He is then conducted to the presence of the Djogoun, who receives him in the O-ziro-djo-yin, or great white hall, where he offers his presents, which are there spread out. If, owing to the inundation of the rivers, to contrary winds in the passage by water, or to deep snows on the mountains, the envoy is prevented from reaching Yedo in time, the audience is deferred till the third day.

The 3d is a grand levee day; all the persons belonging to the court are habited in their nosime and kamisimo.

On the 6th, the envoy of the Dutch Company has his audience for taking leave, in the presence of a number of counsellors of state.

The 15th is an ordinary levee day.

On the 28th, there is no levee at court.

In the course of this month, the ambassadors of the Daïri are conducted to audience. At their audience for taking leave all the officers are in nosime and kamisimo.

The 1st is an ordinary levee day. They now begin at the palace to wear robes that are lined, but without wadding. These are worn till the 4th of the fifth month.

​The 15th is an ordinary levee day.

On the 17th, the Djogoun goes, in his ordinary norimon, to the temple of Momisi-yama, to perform his devotions. No person in mourning is admitted into the palace on this or the preceding day. All the officers are in nosime and kamisimo.

The 20th, being the day on which Yeye-mitsou died, the Djogoun goes to the temple of Ouyeno to pray.

The 28th is an ordinary levee day.

The 29th or the 30th, the Djogoun goes to the temple of Zo-sio-si, on account of the anniversary of the death of Yee-tsougou.

The 5th is a grand levee day. Summer robes without lining are now first worn.

On the 8th, the day on which Yee-tsouna died, the Djogoun goes to pray in the temple of Ouyeno.

On the 17th, he repairs to the temple of Momisi-yama. On this and the preceding day no person in mourning is admitted into the palace.

In the 1st, 5th, and 9th month, the Djogoun goes in person to perform his devotions in the temples of Momisi-yama, Ouyeno, and Zo-sio-si.

The first is an ordinary levee day. On this day they begin to wear the katabre, a kind of robe of simple light stuff, and put on the kamisimo.

On this day the Djogoun receives from the prince of Kaga a present of ice from the mountain of Fousi.

The 15th is the matsouri, or fair of Sanno, the god of the mountains; it is held in the temple of the monkeys.

The Djogoun repairs to the garden of Fouki-age, to see the festivities. He is preceded by the superintendents of the palace on duty, and ten soldiers, and is followed by his guards.

​In the middle of the Kayaba-tcho, or the principal street of Yedo, is erected a tent, in which the image of the god is exhibited for ten days. As this tent is in the centre of Yedo, it is extremely convenient for the people to repair thither to perform their devotions. When the image is carried back to the temple, three expresses are dispatched to the Ginkouan, or great guard-house, at the entrance of the palace; the first when the god is removed from the tent; the second from Fibiya-gomon; and the third from the gate of Sanno-dja. These expresses are soldiers of the Djogouns, dressed in a light blue katabre, and a simple kamisimo. The procession, on the return, is closed by two soldiers, followed by an officer on horseback.

On the 16th, there is a levee for all the princes and the officers. On this occasion, the Djogoun gives to each of them a small cake, or a morsel of sweet-meat. This practice originated in the time of the Djogoun Asikaga, about the year 1106.

On the 20th, the Djogoun goes to pray before the funereal tablet of Yosi-moune, in the temple of Ouyeno; and the heir-apparent does the same in the temple of Momisi-yama. The tablets of the Djogouns are placed in all the temples, authorized by patent. Thus they are to be seen also in that of Nangasaki.

On the 29th or 30th, is the feast of Nagasi-faraï. In the most ancient times, all the servants of the Daïri assembled before the gate Djo-yak-mon, and there sung the hymn, Naka-tomi-faraï. They imagined, that, by performing this duty, they obtained absolution from all their sins. The ceremony then took place twice a year. During the reign of Ten-mou-ten-o, the fortieth Daïri, it was fixed for the 29th or 30th of the sixth month exclusively.

According to the work intituled Sindaï-no-maki, this festival owed its origin to Isanagi and Isanami-no-mikotto, who bathed and purified themselves on that day in the river Tatsibana-no-odo, in the province of Fiouga.

The Djogoun and the heir-apparent give each of them two katabre to two inspectors of the troops, who, with four inspectors of the household, repair to Sinagawa, one of the suburbs of Yedo, and throw these katabre into the sea. Immediately afterwards, the fishermen hasten thither from all quarters, and as they are all eager to possess themselves of a piece, the cloaks are soon torn in pieces in the scramble.

The 1st is an ordinary levee day.

The 7th is the fourth grand levee day. All the princes who are at Yedo, and all the officers high and low, repair to the palace in white katabre and kamisimo, to pay their respects to the Djogoun.

On the 14th, the Djogoun and the heir-apparent go to the temple of Momisi-yama to prayers.

Ten officers, each accompanied by a soldier and a superior officer, repair this day to the temples of Ouyeno and Zo-sio-si, where they remain on duty till the following day, which is the feast of Lanterns. This feast will be described presently.

The 28th is an ordinary levee day.

The 1st is an ordinary levee day. On this day too, all the grandees of the empire, and all the servants of the Djogoun make him presents, which are called tannomo and fassak, tribute. They are all dressed in white katabre and kamisimo.

The 15th is an ordinary levee day.

The Djogoun and his wife amuse themselves by moon-light.

The 1st is an ordinary levee day. On this day the awase, or lined robe without wadding, begins to be worn.

On the 9th is held the fifth grand levee. On this day furred or wadded robes are put on for the first time.

On the 10th, persons are allowed to appear at the palace in tapie, or white buskins. These buskins, which come up to the ancle, and are fastened behind with two ​ribbons, are suited to the extreme cleanliness of the Japanese, all whose apartments are covered with handsome mats or rugs, each three feet broad, six long, two inches thick, and fitting accurately together. Regard is had to the dimensions of these rugs in the distribution of apartments, and the size of an apartment is expressed by the number of rugs required to cover the floor. The men leave off the tapie on the 1st of the third month, but the women wear them all the year round.

On the 14th, a counsellor in ordinary goes to pray, in the name of the Djogoun, in the temple of Zo-sio-si.

On the 8th, 17th, and 20th of this month, the Djogoun and heir-apparent repair to the temple of Momisi-yama.

The 1st is an ordinary levee day. The Djogoun presents each of the princes with a small cake called Gentcho-no-motsi: they retire from the palace at seven in the evening, and two fires are kindled at the gates to light them.

On the 14th, the Djogoun goes to the temple of Zo-sio-si, to pray before the I-faï, or tablet of Yosi-moune.

The 1st and the 15th are ordinary levee days.

The 1st is an ordinary levee day.

On the 13th, a general cleaning takes place in the palace. The inspector of the troops is the only person in nosime and kamisimo.

The 15th is an ordinary levee day.

On the 17th, the Djogoun goes to the temple of Momisi-yama to pray.

​On the 28th, all the princes and officers pay their compliments of congratulation on the commencement of spring: they are dressed in nosime and kamisimo.

The night preceding this day is considered as the beginning of spring, even though this season should not really commence till the following month. The Japanese are accustomed to throw scorched beans against the walls and floors of their houses, repeating three times with a loud voice the words, Oniwa soto, signifying: Evil spirit, depart hence! and then saying in a lower tone: Foukouva outche, or, God of riches, enter this house! This ceremony is performed in different parts of the house. At the palace it is the senior counsellor of state in ordinary to whom it is delegated.

On the 29th or 30th, the last day of the year, the ordinary dress is worn, without any habit of ceremony.

On this day the Fayasi-tosiro, or grand huntsman, makes the Djogoun a present of some hares for the purpose of being stewed for new year’s day. This custom has been at all times observed by the ancestors of the Djogoun.

The Ginkouan, or great guard-house of the palace, is now cleaned, as are likewise the furniture and arms kept in it. On boards magnificently varnished and gilt, presents from Sakaï-sayemon-no-djo, prince of Dewa, are exhibited all the weapons which it is customary to carry in the train of the Djogoun, as already described.

At day-break, at six o’clock the next morning the Japanese begin to pray, turning towards the four cardinal points, to obtain a plentiful and peaceable year. This ceremony was instituted by Ouda-ten-o, the fifty-ninth Daïri, in the first year Kouan-pe, or A. D. 889.

The Japanese have five great festivals, which are considered as fortunate days, and are appropriated to grand levees. They are called Go-sits, and were fixed by Ten-mou-ten-o, the fortieth Daïri, in the sixth year Fakfo, or A. D. 677.

​The first, on the seventh of the first month, is called Nanakousa.

The second, on the third of the third month, is called Tchok-djo-no-in.

The third, on the fifth of the fifth month, is called Tango-no-sekou, or Tchoyo-no-sekou.

The fourth, on the seventh of the seventh month is called Kikod-in-sitssek, or Seïsek.

The fifth, on the ninth of the ninth month, is called Tchocho-no-sekou.

The first festival is called, in the learned language, Zin-sits, or day of Man, and in the vulgar tongue, Nanouka Djogouats, which signifies, the seventh of the first month.

In the second year Kouan-pe, A.D. 890, a pottage, composed of boiled rice and seven kinds of vegetables, and called nanakousa, was served up to the fifty-ninth Daïri. This pottage is still called sitsisou-no-saisikou and nanakousa-no-kayou^[10].

A Japanese author relates, that on the seventh of the first month of the 11th year In-gi (A.D. 911), seven sorts of vegetables were offered to the Daïri, Daïgo-ten-o.

We find it stated in the work, intituled Lifo-o-no-ki, that Mourakami-ten-o received from Yasko, his wife, an offering of the first fruits of garden herbs, on the 29th of the second month of the fourth year Ten-riak (A.D., 950).

An ancient author asserts, that this festival was first held on the seventh of the first month, under Zin-mou-ten-o, the first Daïri.

According to the work intituled Fou-bok-zan, Sutok-in, the 75th Daïri, composed the following piece of poetry, which has thirty-one characters, on this preparation of rice, with seven sorts of vegetables:—

—“May they, for ten thousand years to come, continue to gather seven sorts ​of herbs on the morning of the seventh day of the first month, for the use of the prince!”

Such is the origin of the festival which is celebrated on that day, not only in the palace of the Daïri, but throughout the whole empire. People then regale their mends with the pottage described above, and wish them a long and happy life.

The second festival is called Tchok-djo-no-in and Djo-si. Djo signifies uppermost, first, beginning, and si, serpent: it is, therefore, the festival of the first day of the serpent of the third month. That month was properly the month of the dragon, but the denomination has been changed, and the sign of the zodiac, which immediately followed, has been taken to mark the month on which friends wish one another a continuation of health and happiness. In ancient times, this festival, fixed for the first day of the serpent of the third month, took place on different days, on account of the continual variation in the calculations of the Japanese. It has since been determined, that it shall be celebrated on the third day, which is called Tcho-san, two threes, as being the third of the third month. The Europeans are accustomed to call it the Feast of Dolls.

This festival is principally for girls, whence it has the name of Onago-no-sekou, or the Women’s Festival. In all houses, whether belonging to people of quality, or persons of the lower class, a small stage, of the height of a table, covered with a red cloth, or some costly coloured stuff, according to the circumstances of the owner, is constructed in a suitable apartment, either within or without the alcove. On this stage are placed figures and decorations, representing the court of the Daïri, temples, buildings, the Daïri himself, his wives, called Daïri Bina, or other distinguished personages of both sexes. These images are termed Vina-ningio, or Children’s Dolls, and are good imitations in miniature. Before them are set, in small dishes, on little tables, several kinds of messes, in the manner customary with the Daïri and persons of distinction: all the furniture of a house and the requisites for a kitchen are likewise to be seen in miniature.

​This festival makes the daughters of people of quality acquainted with all that appertains to the decoration of a house, and girls of the lower classes with whatever is necessary for housekeeping. Thus they are taught, by their very amusements, from their earliest infancy, to become in time good and skilful housewives.

An ancient author says, that in his time these Vina-ningio were made of paper, and represented children walking on their hands. They were called Voogko, and served as playthings for girls.

We learn from the work, intituled Gense-wakana-no-maki, that these puppets, called in the learned language, or the language of the Daïri, Ama-gatsou, were given to girls till their thirteenth year, and that upon them was laid the blame of all the little faults committed by the children, in order to give an indirect lesson to the latter.

Another writer relates that Gensi-no-kimi, while resident on the sea-coast, at Sima-no-moura, in the province of Farima, made, by the advice of a conjuror, on the day of the serpent, in the third month, an image which he turned adrift on the sea in a little boat, with a view to preserve himself from all infection and pernicious exhalations, and that thence originated the Vina, the name of which signifies child or chicken. They were likewise called Fafa-ko, from fafa, mother, and ko, child, because the mother and child rubbed their bodies with them to purify themselves from all infection; after which they threw these puppets into the sea, that all the impurities, with which they supposed them to be impregnated, might be wafted far away.

From the most remote ages it has been customary to make on this day kousa-nomotsi, or small cakes of rice and leaves of green mugwort, which are presented to a mother and her daughter for the preservation of their health, instead of the herb fafa-ko-kousa, which was formerly employed. It is also customary to drink zakki, distilled from peach-blossoms, with a view to obtain good health and to prolong lite. The peach is supposed to possess the property of repelling all kinds of infection, which notion is founded on the following Chinese story:—

An immortal female, named Sen-nin-seï-yo-bo, presented the emperor Kanno-boute with a peach, which had not been grown upon earth, but came from a tree that bore fruit but once in three thousand years. She assured him that if he ate this peach, he would attain that age. From this circumstance ​the Chinese and Japanese regale themselves on this day with a beverage distilled from peach blossoms, at the same time wishing one another the blessing of heaven and long life.

The third festival is on the fifth of the fifth month, and is called Tango-no-sekou, or Tcho-go-no-sekou. Tan signifies first; go, a horse; sekou, a festival-day; that is, the first day of the horse in the month of the horse. Tcho means double; go, five; thus, Tcho-go is the fifth of the fifth month. This festival is also called Go-gouats-go-nitsi-no-siobou, or, the feast of the fifth day of the fifth month.

What the preceding festival is for girls, this is for boys. From the first to the sixth, it is customary to fasten to long bamboos, flags of silk, canvass or paper, decorated with the armorial bearings of a prince, high dignitary, or famous general. Those of the lower classes exhibit paintings of weapons or some figure.

At the court of the Daïri, at Miyako, Yedo, Osaka, and in the other principal towns, these bamboos are planted on the bastions and bulwarks, over each gate of the castle, and before the palaces of the princes. At Nangasaki, and in the other cities, towns, and villages, they are set up before all the houses where there are male children; two flags, called no-bori, or standards of war, being hoisted for each. At the door or entrance of each house are also placed cuirasses, helmets, bows and arrows, muskets, pikes, and other weapons made of wood or bamboo, covered with paper, and varnished. In the street and in the vestibule or hall, are set up figures of men renowned for their courage, or horsemen armed at all points. These figures are made of wood, and covered with paper and with pieces of gold or silver stuff, silk, or coloured woollen cloth. They are called kabonto, or men in armour.

Sabres, swords, pikes, bows and arrows, and other weapons, made of wood or bamboo, are given to boys as playthings, to excite in them from childhood a predilection for the military service, and to inflame their young hearts by the recollection of the great achievements of their ancestors.

These sabres, which each makes at pleasure of wood or bamboo, are called ​Siobou-katana. Siobou has two significations: it means sword-grass, because the sabre is shaped like the leaf of that plant; and by decomposing the word, we find sio, which signifies to conquer, and bou, to be defeated. Katana is the usual term for sabre.

The Nobori, Kabouto, and Siobou-katana, are taken from the doctrine of the Sintos. In ancient times there was at the village of Fouka-kousa, in the province of Yamassiro, a temple of Fousi-no-Mori, belonging to the Sintos, the god of which, in the work intituled Nifon-ko-ki, is named Kamo-no-wake-ikatsouti-no-kami, or god of war.

In the first year Ten-wo (A.D. 781), during the reign of Kwou-nin-ten-o, the 49th Daïri, a fleet of ships of war, from foreign countries, landed an army in the province of Mouts, for the purpose of reducing Japan. The Daïri gave the command of the army, which he sent against the invaders, to his son, Sara-sin-o, and his two brothers, Iyo-sin-o and Momori-no-sin-o. Previously to his departure, Sara-sin-o went to the temple of Fousi-no-mori, to inform the deity of his march, and to implore his aid. He defeated the enemy, and destroyed their army. The three princes were in the sequel classed among the gods. Ever since that time it has been customary to set up flags and armed figures before the houses, and to give boys sabres as toys, both to compliment the Daïri on the victory gained by his sons, and to excite in boys, from their childhood, a love of noble daring and a horror of cowardice.

The fourth festival is called by the Japanese Sitssek, the seventh evening, or Seïsek, the evening of stars, and is held on the evening of the seventh day of the seventh month. It was instituted in honour of two constellations, namely, the Tana-bata, Siok-djo, or Ori-fime, the weaver-woman, and the Inkaï, the dog-feeder, or Ken-giou, the herdsman. It is founded on a Chinese fiction, given in the work intituled Roya-daï-soeï, from which the author of the Djou-tsi-kie has extracted the following particulars:—

To the east of the milky way, called by the Chinese Ten-ga, or Thian-ho, and by the Japanese Ama-no-gawa, celestial river, lived Siok-djo, or Tana-bata, a female of extraordinary beauty, and daughter of the emperor of the heavens. ​She employed herself in her solitude in weaving a very fine stuff, which the Japanese call Wounmou-sioken-no-koromo, stuff of vapours or clouds. She wasted none of her time in amusements or at her toilet. The emperor, displeased at this solitary way of life, gave her in marriage to the genius of the constellation Inkaï, or Ken-giou, a very handsome personage, who lived to the north of the milky way, and with whom she was permitted, as a signal favour to reside. She was so much pleased with this new mode of life, that she neglected her work. The emperor, enraged at this, separated her from her husband, and made her return to the east of the milky way; but he allowed them to come together once a year only, in the seventh night of the seventh month, for the performance of the conjugal rite. In consequence of this arrangement, these two constellations still continue to labour for the benefit of the world, which causes them to be held in great veneration by the Chinese and Japanese, who invoke them to obtain the blessing of heaven, long life, wealth, and improvements in the arts and sciences. Pregnant women implore their aid in childbirth: girls pray to them to assist them in their needle-work and embroidery; boys, in their mechanical occupations, studies, and poetry. All make offerings to them of water, fire, incense, flowers, zakki, sweetmeats, vegetables, melons, water-melons, needles, silken and hempen threads, epithalamiums, wedding hymns, sonnets, and pieces of fine writing, according to the custom of the country. The Chinese call this offering Kik-ko-ten. This festival was first kept by them under the emperor Si-no-boutei, and by the Japanese in the years Tenpe-djo-fo, or about 749. The manner of celebrating it is described in the work Yengi-siki.

We find in the Kouzi-kon-gen-ki, that on the seventh night of the seventh month, at the court of the Daïri, four tables are laid in a suitable place in the open air. Several articles are placed upon them by way of offering; a vase with clean water, for the purpose of looking at the stars in it, and nine chandeliers in which candles are burned the whole night. Incense also is burned in a small vessel. Some of the best informed Japanese regard this Chinese fiction as derogatory to the respect due to the god of the heavens; but, in general, these two constellations are considered as having a great influence over our globe, and they are called O-mono and Ta-natsou-mono. O-mono is a word anciently used at the court of the Daïri, and synonymous with Ori-mono, ​in the vulgar tongue, that is, the art of making cloth. As very light robes are worn in summer, these constellations are thence denominated Siok-djo, or Ori-fime. Tanatsou-mono signifies seed-time: it is composed of ta, arable land; natsou, summer; and mono, seed; or whatever is sown in summer.

It was anciently the custom at the court of the Daïri, to write annually on this day, pieces of poetry of thirty-one characters on oblong or square bits of paper of different colours, which were then fastened to the branches of a green bamboo. This is still done at the court of the Daïri, and in the five imperial cities, Miyako, Yedo, Osaka, Sakaï, and Nangasaki, in the capitals of the sixty-four provinces, and in the palaces of the princes, among persons of inferior rank, and even by the lower classes; or if they do not make Japanese or Chinese verses, they at least offer to these constellations, fire, water, scented tapers, sweetmeats, melons, water-melons, and several kinds of vegetables, by way of imploring health and happiness, and returning thanks for the prosperity of the empire.

The fifth festival is the ninth of the ninth month, and is named Tchokio-no-sekou, or the double nine. At the court of the Daïri they amuse themselves with drinking zakki, distilled from the flowers of motherwort^[11]. This liquor is thought to possess the property of prolonging life.

It was formerly customary in China to gather these flowers as soon as they had opened, and to mix the leaves and petals with boiled rice, from which was prepared a beverage that was used in celebrating this festival.

According to the account of the Chinese there formerly existed, ten miles to the north of the province of Nanyo-no-rekken, a village of thirty houses, situated near a hill covered with motherwort, bearing beautiful yellow flowers. At the ​foot of the hill was a valley, through which ran a stream of pure water, formed by the dews and rains that trickled down the sides of the hill. This water was the ordinary beverage of the villagers, who generally lived to the age of one hundred, or even a hundred and twenty, or a hundred and thirty, years. To live no longer than seventy was considered by them as dying a premature death.

Several Chinese authors relate, that the emperor Gi-no-boen-teï, who succeeded to the throne at the age of seven years, was greatly distressed by a prediction that he should die before he was fifteen. An immortal, named Sien-nin-foso was informed of it, and brought him a present of flowers of motherwort from Nanyo-no-rekken, and caused zakki to be made with them. This liquor the emperor drank every day, and lived to be upwards of seventy.

This Sien-nin-foso, called in his youth Zido, had been in the service of the emperor Tsiou-no-bokko, but was banished for some misdemeanor, and went to the environs of the hill above-mentioned. He took up his residence in the valley, drinking nothing but the water impregnated with the flowers of motherwort, and attained the age of three hundred years, whence he received the name of Sien-nin-foso. Under Gi-no-boen-teï, he returned to court, and acquainted the emperor with the means which had caused him to live to so advanced an age. The emperor followed the same course and attained the age of seventy.

Such is the origin of the practice of drinking zakki distilled from the flowers of motherwort, at the court of the Daïri, on the ninth of the ninth month. On this day, as on the four other festivals, throughout the whole empire, servants pay their respects to their master or employer, dressed in their best clothes. In the houses of the common people you find, instead of this zakki, a small branch of flowers of motherwort, fastened with a string to a pitcher full of zakki, which implies that they wish one another a long life. This practice is called kikou-no-zakki; the month has thence derived the appellation of kikou-souki, or month of flowers of motherwort; and this day in particular is named kikou-no-sekou, or festival of motherwort.

At Nangasaki, it is rather a fair, in Japanese Matsouri, than the festival of the flowers of motherwort which is then held. This fair begins on the 7th of the ninth month: eleven streets of the city, and the two streets of brothels give ​by turns, every year, solemn dances in the great square: children magnificently dressed perform these dances with great elegance and the utmost precision. The dances are in honour of O-souva-sama, god of the Sintos. The priests, followed by an immense concourse, escort the statue of the deity to the square, where a spacious building has been erected for its reception. The 8th is a day of rest. On the 9th the dances are renewed; after which the god is carried back to the temple with the following ceremonies. Three iron frying-pans are filled with boiling water, and into each is put a bunch of green bamboo-leaves, with which the water, called Oudate, is sprinkled about the statue to drive away evil dæmons. For the same purpose a priest on horseback keeps gallopping to and fro, shooting with a bow and arrows. This festival is particularly appropriated to this god, that, by his intercession, the trade with the Dutch and the Chinese may be continued without interruption, and prove beneficial and lucrative to the inhabitants.

Besides the five great festivals above-mentioned, there is on the 15th of the seventh month a festival, called in the learned language, Wouran-bon, and in the vulgar tongue merely bon, which signifies a dish or plate. On this occasion it is customary to make offerings for the souls of deceased relatives. The festival commences on the 13th, and lasts till two in the morning of the 16th. It was anciently held six times a year, namely, on the 15th of the second month, from four in the afternoon till noon the following day; on the 15th of the fifth month, from sun-rise till ten in the morning of the 16th; on the 14th of the 7th month, from sun-rise till noon of the 16th; on the 15th of the eighth month, from eight in the morning till four in the afternoon of the succeeding day; on the 16th of the ninth month, from ten in the morning till four in the afternoon of the next day; and lastly, on the 29th or 30th of the twelfth month, from noon till sun-rise on new-year’s day.

It is several centuries since its celebration was limited to the seventh month. This festival belongs to the doctrine of Chakia, which was brought from China to Japan.

​In the first volume of the book of hymns, called Bouts-setsou-wouran-bon-kio, which was translated in China from the Hindoo language into Chinese, by Sanzo-tik-fo, is the following tradition:

The mother of the priest, Mok-ren-bikou, a disciple of Chakia, descended after her death to hell to expiate her sins: there she suffered extreme torment from thirst. Her son, who, by means of his great knowledge, was acquainted with things past and to come, as well as with all that occurred in heaven and hell, endeavoured to procure her some food, and gave her a plate of rice, at the sight of which she was quite overjoyed; but no sooner did she raise a little of the rice to her lips, than it was transformed into burning coals. Her son, seeing from this world her new affliction, went to consult Chakia, his master, on the means of delivering his mother from the punishment which she had incurred by her impiety, and received the following answer:—“Your mother died in a state of rebellion against the Fotoke, or gods; you are not able singly to afford her any effectual relief; but on the 15th of the seventh month, assemble all the priests, sing hymns with them, and provide an offering of a hundred different kinds of food for the gods.” Mok-ren followed Chakia’s directions, and by this means delivered his mother.

This festival was first celebrated in China, under the emperor Go-kan-no-miti, who reigned from the year fifty-eight to seventy-five of the Christian era; and in Japan under Siomou-ten-o, the fifty-fifth Daïri, in the fifth year Tem-pe, or A. D. 733. It soon spread over the whole empire. Lanterns are lighted over the graves, in the evenings of the 14th and 15th, and kept burning till ten the next morning.

The priests of Chakia call this festival Wouran-bon, and those of the Sintos, Tchou-gen, from tchou, middle, and gen, beginning, to signify that a person on paying his debts in the middle of this month may begin to run up a fresh score. These days are very disagreeable to many of our interpreters, who, to avoid their creditors, frequently remain day and night at Desima, because, according to ancient custom, it is not lawful to demand payment of their debts excepting on those days.

Every Japanese, whose parents are still living, considers this as a happy day. People regale themselves and their children with fish, and wish one another a continuance of good health. Married sons and daughters, or adopted ​children, send varnished boxes, containing fresh, salted, or dried fish, and certain dishes ready cooked, to their parents, at the same time wishing them health. It was anciently the custom to follow the doctrine of the Sintos in regard to all these ceremonies, but the rites of Chakia have since begun to be mixed with those of the Sintos on this occasion.

At Nangasaki, the festival is opened at six in the evening of the 13th with prayers to the souls of the deceased. To this end the tablets of parents and relatives are taken out of their cases, and placed in a lateral apartment, where they are kept, called Bouts-dan; or they are put within the alcove in the hall, where a repast is set before them, in token of gratitude for all that the survivors are indebted to them. Green mats, made of the grass kaya, are previously spread out, on the two sides of which are put ears of rice and millet, culinary vegetables, and raw fruit, as beans, figs, pears, chestnuts, hazel-nuts, horse-radish, and the earliest autumnal fruits. In the middle is set a small vase, in which are burned pastils and other perfumes. Before this vase are placed, on the one hand, a jug full of pure water; and on the other, a jug with a green leaf of the rose-coloured water-lily, on which are put a little raw rice and small square pieces of a species of turnip. Over the jug of water is laid a bunch of hemp, which those who come to pray use for sprinkling the rice and turnips. They address their prayers to the god Amida, muttering a hundred, or even a thousand, times, the words Naman-doubt (Nami-amida-bouts! or Amida! pray for us!) and implore him to remove the deceased to a world where he may enjoy perfect felicity.

In another vase are put branches of the tree called Fanna-siba, and other beautiful flowers, and care is taken to keep lanterns lighted up for two days and three nights.

On the morning of the 14th, the jug of water is taken away, and small cups fall of tea are placed in its stead; these are filled twice or thrice a day for each tablet; before which also are set two plates, covered with boiled rice and other kinds of food, the one for breakfast and the other for dinner. In the interval between these two meals, various sorts of dainties, as laksak, cakes, stewed mansi, sugar-loaves, &c., are, placed before the tablet.

Towards evening they begin to light lanterns before each si-sek, or stone erected over the graves in the burial grounds; they are suspended from long ​bamboos laid across two sticks, and burn till ten in the morning. This practice was introduced under Go-forikawa-no-in, the eighty-fifth Daïri, on the 14th of the seventh month of the second year Kouan-ki, or A.D. 1230.

In front of the sepulchral stone is placed a small square stone dish with pure water, and on each side a goblet of stone or bamboo, round or square, with a small green branch of the tree Fanna-siba. In two shorter pieces of bamboo are burned small pastils; and stewed mansi, sweetmeats, and other delicacies, are set at the same time on the grave.

In the night of the 15th, the offering is made in the houses before the tablets as on the preceding day; and lanterns are in like manner lighted near the tombs.

On the 16th, at three in the morning, all the different articles of food that have been mentioned are packed up in small straw boats, and carried to the market by the country people of the neighbouring villages: the sails of these vessels are of coloured paper, silk, or canvass. They are illuminated with small lanterns and burning pastils. At Nangasaki they are carried to the O-fato, or great square, where they are launched upon the water, from the steps, called the Muscle Steps, for the purpose of dismissing the souls of the deceased, which are supposed to return on these days to their graves. It is thought that the souls of the wicked, on the other hand, are doomed to wander about continually till the conclusion of the period fixed for the expiation of their sins. With a view to shorten this term the priests offer up prayers at their graves.

This festival produces a highly picturesque effect: outside the town the view of it from the island of Desima is one of the most beautiful. The spectator would almost imagine that he beheld a torrent of fire pouring from the hill, owing to the immense number of small boats that are carried to the shore to be turned adrift on the sea. In the middle of the night, and when there is a brisk wind, the agitation of the water causing all these lights to dance to and fro, produces an enchanting scene. The noise and bustle in the town, the sound of basins, and the voices of the priests, combine to form a discord that can scarcely be conceived. The whole bay seems to be covered with ignes fatui. Though these barks have sails of paper or stronger stuff, very few ​of them pass the place where our ships lie at anchor. In spite of the guards, thousands of paupers rush into the water to secure the sepikkes, (or small pieces of copper money), and other things placed in them. Next day they strip the barks of all that is left, and the tide carries them out to sea. Thus terminates this ceremony.

Mention is so frequently made in this volume and in other works on Japan, of the privilege enjoyed by certain classes of the inhabitants, of being their own executioners by ripping up the belly, that the reader will not be displeased to find here some particulars respecting this singular custom.

All military men, the servants of the Djogoun, and persons holding civil offices under the government, are bound when they have committed any crime to rip themselves up, but not till they have received an order from the court to that effect; for, if they were to anticipate this order, their heirs would run the risk of being deprived of their places and property. For this reason, all the officers of government are provided, in addition to their usual dress, and that which they put on in case of fire, with a suit necessary on such an occasion, which they carry with them whenever they travel from home. It consists of a white robe and a habit of ceremony made of hempen cloth, and without armorial bearings. The outside of the house is hung with white stuffs; for the palaces of the great, and the places at which they stop by the way when going to or returning from Yedo, are hung with coloured stuffs on which their arms are embroidered―a privilege enjoyed also by the Dutch envoy.

As soon as the order of the court has been communicated to the culprit, he invites his intimate friends for the appointed day, and regales them with zakki. After they have drunk together some time, he takes leave of them; and the order of the court is then read to him once more. Among the great this reading takes place in presence of their secretary, and the inspector: the person who performs the principal part in this traffic scene then addresses a speech or compliment to the company; after which he inclines his head ​towards the mat, draws his sabre and cuts himself with it across the belly, penetrating to the bowels. One of his confidential servants, who takes his place behind him, then strikes off his head. Such as wish to display superior courage, after the cross cut, inflict a second longitudinally, and then a third in the throat. No disgrace is attached to such a death; and the son succeeds to his father’s place, as we see by several examples in the Memoirs of the Djogouns.

When a person is conscious of having committed some crime, and apprehensive of being thereby disgraced, he puts an end to his own life, to spare his family the ruinous consequences of judicial proceedings. This practice is so common, that scarcely any notice is taken of such an event. The sons of all people of quality exercise themselves in their youth, for five or six years, with a view that they may perform the operation, in case of need, with gracefulness and dexterity; and, they take as much pains to acquire this accomplishment as youth among us do to become elegant dancers, or skilful horsemen: hence the profound contempt of death which they imbibe even in their earliest years. This disregard of death, which they prefer to the slightest disgrace, extends to the very lowest classes among the Japanese.

While I was at Yedo in 1782, I was told of a circumstance which had recently happened in the palace of the prince of Satsouma. To the sheath of the sabre is attached a small knife, the handle of which projects a little in front of the hilt, and is commonly embellished with flowers and other ornaments in gold, of superior workmanship. The prince, one night on retiring to bed, laid aside his sabre; next morning the knife had disappeared. There was no reason to suspect one person of the theft more than another. Inquiry was secretly made of all the pawnbrokers, to ascertain whether the knife had been pledged. Three days afterwards one of these tradesmen brought a knife on which he had advanced money, and which was immediately known to be that stolen from the prince. All his servants were summoned to appear before the pawnbroker, who instantly pointed out the man from whom he had received the knife. The culprit frankly confessed his guilt, and was commanded to prepare for death. He replied, that he was quite ready; on which he was led out into the court, and his head cut off without farther ceremony.

The Japanese suffer no event at all worthy of remark to pass without making it a subject for exercising their passion for poetry. To afford some idea of the nature of their poetical compositions and the energy of their language, I shall here give some of the pieces written on occasion of the death of Yamassiro^[1].

“I have just learned that one of the new guards has excited a tumult at the castle, by assassinating a counsellor in his madness.”

“The white robe of Yamassiro is dyed with blood, and every one calls him the red counsellor.”

​

“The torrent, which in the eastern way runs through the village of Sanno, swelled, burst the dyke around the slough, and the castle on the mountain was overthrown.”

“Who threw into the fire the plum and the cherry-trees, those valuable trees, which are planted in boxes for the sake of the beauty of their flowers? It was Sanno, who cut them down.”

“A counsellor in madness has been overthrown. It such a thing was ever heard of, it would be said to be a judgment of heaven.”

Baka tosi yori. An extraordinary counsellor is called Waka tosi yori, or young counsellor; the change in the first letter of his name gives this new signification; and this play upon words shows how much he was disliked.

Yama siro no. Yama means a mountain, siro a castle; no is a particle, which has no signification, but serves to give fulness and elegance to the language: it is used both in prose and verse.

​These two words comprise the name and quality of the murdered person, as well as an indication of the place where the event happened; the palace of the Djogoun being on an eminence in the last enclosure of the castle.

Sawagou sin ban properly signifies a new fashion which makes a great noise; but these words are here used metaphorically for a new guard.

Siro no okosode: a white shirt, or under robe, which no person has a right to wear, excepting those who have the title of kami, women and priests.

Asouma. Yedo, according to the division of the empire, is the road to the east of Miyako, the metropolis. Asouma is an ancient word, the origin of which is thus explained by some. Tatche-bana-fime, wife of Yamatto-dake-no-mikotto, being overtaken in company with her husband by a violent tempest, threw herself into the sea, to appease the marine god Riouzin, and was drowned. Her husband, on landing, ascended the mountain of Ousoui, which commands an extensive view of the whole country to the east. There, recollecting the loss of his beloved wife, he exclaimed with a deep sigh, Atsouma! oh my wife! From this circumstance Japan received the name of Kisi-kokf, or country of women; but others assert, that this name was given to it by Tensio Daïsin, from whom the Japanese suppose themselves to be descended.

When the provinces of Odjo and Dewa, opposite to the island of Yeso, were yet uncultivated, the natives were called Asouma-ibis, or rude people, savages. The same word is still used to denote a clownish, ill-bred person.

Sanno is the name of a village, through which runs a large river, having a bridge composed of boats chained together. It enjoys a magnificent view, which has furnished several poets with a subject for beautiful compositions. Gongin gave it to one of Sinsayemon’s ancestors, as a reward for the services which he had rendered him in his wars.

Tanoma-ta, arable land; noma or nouma, a slough. When there is a slough near cultivated land, the farmers separate them by a dyke. The word here alludes to Yamassiro’s father, who is compared to a slough, on account of the innovations which he contemplated, and which caused him to be detested.

Yamassiro is properly the name of a castle on a mountain: a castle on the sea-shore is called Oumi-siro, and in a valley Fira-siro.

The next stanza alludes to the following story:

​Under Go-foukakousa-no-in, the eighty-eighth Daïri, Fosio-toki-yori was prime minister to Yori-tsougou and Moune-taka-sin-o, Djogouns of Kamakoura. During his administration the empire flourished, and the people, maintained in the possession of their just rights, were contented and happy. In the 11th month of the eighth year Ken-tcho (A. D. 1256), Toki-yori, having formed the plan of traversing the empire, to ascertain by ocular demonstration, whether the accounts transmitted to him from all parts were correct, resigned his post in favour of his son, Toki-moune, then six years old, appointing Naga-toki and Masa-moura to perform its functions till he was of sufficient age. He then retired to the temple of Saï-mio-si, and shut himself up in an apartment into which he forbade any person whatever to be admitted. In the second year Djo-ko (A. D. 1258), he caused a report of his death and that of Nikaïdo-sinano-noudo, his counsellor of state who accompanied him in his seclusion, to be circulated. The news plunged the whole empire into consternation and mourning. He then put his design in execution, and spent three years in visiting every part of the empire with Nikaïdo, both habited as priests, to avoid incurring any suspicion.

Just after he had reached the village of Sanno, a deep snow fell, and prevented him from continuing his route. He knocked at the door of a thatched cottage, and solicited hospitality for one night. A good woman, who opened the door, said, that he should be welcome to it for her part, but it did not depend on her; that her master was gone out, and she would run and fetch him. The master, when he returned, represented to the priest that his house was very small, and in so bad a state of repair that he would pass the night very uncomfortably in it: he, therefore, advised him to go eighteen streets^[2] farther, to the village of Yamamatto, where he would find several good houses, in which he would be much better accommodated. The priest, however, urged the impossibility of proceeding farther in so dark a night, and the master at length agreed to receive him, on his assurance, that he should be satisfied with ever so indifferent a lodging. The woman set before him some boiled millet, with an excuse for not giving him rice, as she should have done formerly in her better days. The priest replied, that millet was his favourite dish. ​While they conversed together, the night advanced, and the cold became more severe. They had neither bedding to offer to protect him from the cold, nor wood to make a fire. In this dilemma, they determined to cut down the trees which were planted in boxes before the house. The priest, perceiving their intention, insisted that they should not carry it into execution, saying, that one of his profession ought not to care about hunger and cold, or even about lying in the open air if occasion required. He desired to see the trees; his host brought them. “This is all that is left me,” said he, “of my former prosperity. I had a great number of them; but when I was reduced to poverty I gave them to my friends, with the exception of these three, which I most valued, (they were an oume or plum-tree, a sakoura, or cherry, and a mats, or fir-tree); but I shall now cut them down to warm you.” The priest thanked him for his kindness, but again begged him not to think of cutting down the trees. The owner, nevertheless, carried them out of the house, cut them down, made a fire, and invited his guests to draw near and warm themselves. Toki-yori expressed his regret at what he had done for him, and in the course of conversation asked his name. His host refused for some time to inform him; but, at length, unable to resist the importunities of the priest, he told him that he was Sanno-gen-sayemon-tsoune-yo, son of Sanno-sabro-masa-tsoune. The priest manifested astonishment. “Sanno-sabro,” said he, “was a wealthy nobleman; how happens it that you are so poor?” “My uncle, Sanno-toda,” replied his host, “secretly assassinated my father, and made the Djogoun believe that in a paroxysm of insanity he had put an end to his own life; he then turned me out of doors, and it is this that has made me so poor. I have been more than once tempted to kill him to revenge my father; but he is a man of consequence, and always surrounded by so many servants, that it is impossible to get at him.” While relating these particulars he shed a flood of tears, as did also the female. The two strangers wept with them. Toki-yori asked why he had not preferred his complaint at Kamakoura. He replied, he had learned with great sorrow that Toki-yori was dead, and that the other counsellors of state no longer governed with such equity as he had done. “Though I am poor,” added he, “I have still a cuirass, a nage-nata (curved sabre with a long hilt), and a bay horse wherewith to hasten to the am of the Djogoun in case war should befal Kamakoura.” The priest, surprised at all he heard, exhorted him to patience, and ​held out to him hopes of better times. While they were thus conversing, day-light appeared, the travellers look leave of their kind entertainers, and pursued their way.

Toki-yori, having finished his tour, re-appeared all at once at the court of Kamakoura. This unexpected return overjoyed the people, who had believed him to be dead. The first thing he did was to send for Sanno-toda-tsoune-yosi and his relatives, and also for Sanno-gensayemon-tsoune-yo. After a minute examination, he found that the story of the latter was strictly true, and caused Sanno-toda and one of his kinsmen, who was accessary to his crime, to be beheaded on the sea-shore. He restored to Gensayemon all the estates which had belonged to his father, and gave him in addition the villages of Oumeda, in the province of Kaga, Sakoura-i, in the province of Yetchou, and Matsou-yeda, in the province Kotsouki^[3], in allusion to the three trees, oume, sakoura, and mats, which he had cut down to warm his guests.

Plum and cherry trees are highly esteemed in Japan on account of their flowers. Behind almost all houses are to be seen some of these dwarf trees, in boxes, and in the apartments of persons in easy circumstances, a porcelain vase with a branch in flower. The poet here alludes to Yamassiro, as though he would say: Who cut down the beloved tree of Tanomo?—Sanno.

Sinsayemimon. The n in the first syllable, taken from sin, makes si, before; saye, one has not; mi, ever; mo, heard; by leaving out the letter mi, it makes the name of Sinsayemon, which is pronounced Sinsaïmon.

Ten mei. When any misfortune befals a person, it is customary to say—ten mei—it is a punishment of heaven. When any one has committed a crime which cannot be clearly proved, and some mishap afterwards overtakes him, the same expression is employed. Here it alludes to the mischief done by Yamassiro in abusing his power, and the time when he was punished for it, which was the fourth year ten-mei or ten-mio.

“Tonoma Yamassiro received three cuts with a sabre. Though the wounds were not deep, he suffered great pain. He had endeavoured to defend himself; his blood flowed: it is a happy event.”

“We are not ill-disposed towards old Father Tonomo, though his son has been cut off. His only son has been killed. Sanno shed his blood: it is a happy event.”

The following verses contain the names of all the months of thirty days, as well as those that have but twenty-nine.

“All the grandees of the empire abhorred the bear, (the arms of Yamassiro, which are seven stars); let it shine no more; it is a happy event, even for the lowest servants.”

​In these lines, those months which have thirty days are in Roman letters, namely, mou, the 6th; sio, the 1st; ni, the 2d; nanats, the 7th; si, the 4th; kou, the 9th; and simo, the 11th. All the others, in Italic letters, have but twenty-nine^[4].

“At this time an event of great importance occurred. Tonoma was slain by Sanno near the palace: he was going with Kanno, O-ota, Yetchou, and Sougi-yama, from the back door towards the front door. His father was deeply afflicted at this circumstance. It was so decreed; his time was come. Tango supported and conducted him to his carriage.”

The name of the extraordinary counsellor of state was Kanno-totomi-no-kami.

The name of the extraordinary counsellor of state O-ota Biengo-no-kami.

The name of the prince of Figo, Fosokava Yetchou-no-kami.

Sougi yama tonoske, keeper of the inner chamber (Okonando), in which the wardrobe of the Djogoun is deposited.

The extraordinary counsellor of state, Yone-koura-tango-no-kami-masa-farou.

The Japanese divide the year into twelve months, each of which has two sub-divisions of fifteen days distinguished by different names. The twenty-four hours are divided into one hundred parts, and the day and night contain a greater or less number of them, according as the sun is approaching or withdrawing from the equator, wherever there is a hundredth deficient, that hundredth is again divided into one hundred parts.

This method of calculation will be better illustrated by an example. We shall take the year 1783.

Of the hundred parts into which the twenty-four hours are divided, two are taken for morning, and two for evening twilight.

The mechanism of the Japanese clocks consists in a horizontal balance, moving upon a pin forward and backward, with a weight on each side. This clock accurately marks the duration of day and night, by the approach or recession of these weights. I examined a clock of this kind in the palace of the governor of Nangasaki; and as the construction seemed curious, I was desirous of bringing one with me from Japan, but the high price demanded for them deprived me of this gratification.

​The year, called in Japanese tosi or nen, is thus divided into twenty-four periods, which form the four seasons. Spring, which is the first, always begins with Lits-siun. In 1783 these periods were fixed at the following days:—

As the Japanese have lunar years, the proportion is continually varying. After a period of thirty-three months, there comes a year of thirteen months. Thus, in 1778, there was a kou-gouats, or ninth month and an ouro-kougouats, or ninth intercalary month; in 1781, a go-gouats, or fifth month and an ouro-go-gouats; and in 1784 a djo-gouats and an ouro-djo-gouats, or first intercalary month.

It has been observed that, in general, on the 210th or 220th day after the first of the djo-gouats, there is a severe tempest; and when it does not happen people are accustomed to congratulate one another.

The twelve signs of the zodiac are named in Japanese as follows:—

The four cardinal points are: Figassi, east; Nisi, west; Kita, north; Minami, south.

The names of the seven planets are:—

With the exception of the sun and moon, they are all according to the work intituled Sin-daï-no-maki children of the gods, Isanagi-no-sanami-no-mikotto.

Like the ancient Latins, and the modern French, they distinguish the day of the week by the names of the seven planets, and say:—

​Yo properly signifies the northern constellation, or the Bear.

The five elements are divided into elder brother and younger brother, by the words ye and to; they have therefore ten, viz.:—

By joining the ten elements with the twelve signs of the Zodiac, they distinctly denote each day of the month, according to their mode of reckoning. Thus, when the new moon is on Wednesday,

​The eleventh month, in which the sun enters the winter solstice, was anciently held to be the first month, because the sun is then to the north, and below the earth. The same custom formerly obtained in China. Their cycle, or space of sixty years, begins, however, with Torra-no-tsouki. This method of computation has been adopted in China by the princes and the reigning dynasty.

Here follow the names of the cycle of sixty, which are composed of those of the cycle of ten, combined with the cycle of twelve:—

​The twenty-four hours are twice divided into six periods, each of which is subdivided into eight, which, like the eight points of the compass, have different names:—

They then come again to—

Their almanacs contain, like ours, a list of remarkable events, and the time which has elapsed since those events. Thus we find in that for the third year Nengo, or the year ten-mi, 1783, that there had then elapsed—

The almanac is always composed at the court of the Daïri by the Rek-Fakassi.

The Japanese have compasses with twelve points, corresponding with the twelve signs of the Zodiac, beginning with the north, or the Rat: in which

​particular they agree with the Chinese. In the almanac for the year of the Hare, already mentioned, we find the following precautions enjoined to be observed:—

“Whatever is opposite to the north must be shut this year. When a person, for instance, has occasion to go to some place lying to the north, he must, on leaving home, first bear a little to the east or south, after which he may pursue his route.

“Pregnant women must this year take care not to lie-in opposite to the ous-no-fo, or point of the cow.

“This year, all between the points of the serpent and the horse is open, that is, fortunate; therefore, in praying, people must turn towards the south, which lies between the points consecrated to those two animals.

“In sowing this year, the husbandman must not face the north.

“In removing from one house to another, beware of approaching the torri-no-fo, or point of the cock.”

On the second or third of the first moon, seamen set up in their vessels a branch of fir, surrounded with a band of straw, to which they fasten several things, as grass, crabs, rice, salt, corn, &c. It is an offering made to the god of the vessel, that they may prosper in the course of the year. This offering is called Tama-fouma-dama-sama, or offering to the god of the ship; for each vessel is supposed to be under the influence of a tutelary spirit.

When the almanac forbids persons to remove or to sail towards any of the twelve points, they direct their course on first setting out towards a different point, which is sufficient to prevent misfortune: after this they pursue the direction which they have occasion to take.

“Beware this year of marrying a woman from a country situated towards the in-no-fo, or point of the dog.

“During this year, persons must not shoot or throw directly towards the point of the sheep with the bow, musket, or lance.

“This year avoid performing the natural evacuations facing the point of the cow. It is forbidden in like manner to receive cattle from that point.”

These almanacs are also filled with predictions of the weather and winds, and marks for lucky and unlucky days, to which regard must be paid in every kind of business.

In Japan, income and revenue are always computed by bales, kokf, and mankokf..

Each bale contains 33½ gantings, and weighs 82 or 83 cattis. The catti is one pound and a quarter. There is no other measure than the ganting for all articles, whether dry or liquid.

Three bales of rice, each estimated at two taëls in the calculation of income, make one kokf or koban. The succeeding sums are the result of decimal multiplication. Thus:―

The value of the koban has considerably varied. There are old kobans of 24 florins, and others of 19. The bounrok koban is equivalent to 14 florins 8 stivers, but their value is sometimes higher by from 15 to 23 stivers. The new koban, at present in circulation, is worth 12 or 13 florins, according to the price of gold. The taël of silver is an imaginary money, of the value of about four shillings^[1].

1. Factory of the Olando (Dutch), on the island of Desima, (Advanced Island^[1]).

2. In the thirteenth year of Kouan-young (1636), the island of Desima was set apart for the abode of the Barbarians of the south, who received permission to settle there for the purposes of commerce.

3. The first arrival of the Dutch in Japan, was in the seventh year of Khing-tchang (1602). Their privileges were confirmed to them by Gongin in 1609. Their establishment was afterwards removed to Nangasaki. This took place in the eighteenth year of Kouan-young (1641).

4. From the eastern to the southern angle the distance is thirty-five measures (of about eight Japanese feet); from the southern to the western angle one hundred and eight; from the northern to the western angle thirty-five, and from the northern to the eastern angle ninety-six.

[The measure here mentioned must be equal to about eight Japanese feet, since Kämpfer states the island of Desima to be six hundred feet long and two hundred and forty broad. That author assures us that he measured it himself, and found its greatest breadth to be eighty-two ordinary paces, and its extreme length two hundred and thirty-six.]

It may not be amiss to follow up this short explanation with the description of the island of Desima by Kämpfer. This description accords exactly with the plan here given after that of M. Titsingh, as may easily be ascertained upon comparing the one with the other. Scheuchzer, who translated Kämpfer’s work into English, says moreover, that, in the original manuscript of the German author, there were references which he omitted, because they related to a plan which was not to be found among Kämpfer’s papers and drawings. It may, therefore, be useful to supply this involuntary omission, and to annex to the plan given by M. Titsingh, a description which forms a necessary accompaniment.

“The place where the Dutch reside is called Desima, that is, the Advanced Island, or the island situated before the town. The Japanese sometimes call it Desima mats, or Desima-street, because it is reckoned among the streets of Nangasaki, and is subject to the same regulations. It is not far from the city, and has been artificially formed in the sea, which hereabout is full of rocks and sand-banks, and very shallow. The foundations, to the height of a fathom and a half or two fathoms, are of hewn stone, and at flood tide are about half a fathom above the surface of the water. In figure it nearly resembles a fan without a handle: it is an oblong square, the two longest sides of which are segments of circles, communicating with the city by a small stone bridge, a few

​paces in length, at the extremity of which there is a handsome guard-house, where sentinels are constantly on duty. On the south side of the island are two great gates, called the water-gates, which are never opened but to load and unload the Dutch ships, in the presence of a certain number of commissioners appointed by the governor. The whole island is surrounded with deal-boards carried up to a tolerable height, and covered with a small roof, at the top of which is fixed a double row of spikes, very much like what we call chevaux-de-frise: the whole is in general weak, and incapable of resistance in case of necessity. In the water, a few paces from the island, are placed thirteen very high poles, at a reasonable distance from each other, with small boards fastened to the top, upon which is written in large Japanese characters the order of the governors, forbidding, under the severest penalties, all vessels and craft to pass these poles and approach the island. At the end of the bridge next to the city is a place built with hewn stone, where the ordinances and decrees of the emperor, and the orders of the governors, written on a like number of boards, are posted. One of these orders relates to the guard, and another is addressed to the officers of the street of Decima, and to all persons who have business there, and who are obliged to go and return this way. . . . . . .It is usually reckoned that the area of our island is equal to that of a stadium, being six hundred feet in length and two hundred and forty in breadth. One wide street runs the whole length of the island: there is also a path all round it, along the deal fence by which it is encircled. This path may be closed if necessary. The water from the gutters runs off into the sea by means of narrow curved pipes, made so on purpose, lest any thing should be smuggled away from the island, which, it is supposed, might easily be done if the pipes were straight. The street which runs the length of the island is the only one that has houses on either side. These houses were built at the expense of some of the inhabitants of Nangasaki, to whom we are obliged to pay, according to the original contract, a yearly rent of 6,500 siumone, a sum exceeding the value of the fee simple. All the houses, which are of wood, chiefly deal, are moreover extremely crazy. They are one story high: the ground-floors serve for warehouses. We live in the upper floor, which we are obliged to furnish at our own cost, with coloured paper instead of tapestry, according to the custom of the country; to find mats to cover the floor, and doors and ​locks, if we would wish to secure our effects, and to shut up our chambers at night. The other buildings upon our island are, three guard-houses, one at each end, and the other in the middle; a place close to the entrance where are kept all the instruments necessary for extinguishing fire, and small wells which have been dug to procure water: these are covered with planks nailed on so that they may be easily removed in case of need. All the water used by us for culinary and other ordinary purposes comes from the river which runs through the city; it is conveyed by pipes made of bamboos, and discharges itself into a reservoir built on the island. For this supply of water we pay separately. The India company have erected at their expense, at the back of the great street, an edifice destined for the sale of our merchandise, and two fire-proof warehouses: for those which I have already mentioned as occupying the ground-floors of the houses, are exposed to rain and fire, and are scarcely safe from robbers. The island contains also a spacious kitchen, a habitation for the deputies appointed by the governors to superintend our commerce; a house for the interpreters, who are wanted only during the time of our sales; a kitchen and pleasure-grounds; a place for washing linen and other things; a few private gardens, and a bath. The ottona, or principal officer of the street, has likewise a house and garden to himself. There has been left a vacant space where shops are erected and kept standing the whole time that our ships are in the port. There is also a corner set apart, in which the cords and various implements necessary for packing goods are kept.”

A plan of the residence of the chief of the Dutch factory from a drawing found among M. Titsingh’s papers, is annexed.

This plan, reduced from a Japanese print, contains inscriptions in various places, which the European engraver could but imperfectly imitate. I shall give a translation of these inscriptions, with references to their situations in the plate.

01. Chinese factory.

02. Ever since the year 1688, the Chinese factory had been in a different situation. By command of the governor of Nangasaki, it was transferred, in 1780, to the site of an ancient temple which has been surrounded by ten guard-houses, for the purpose of keeping watch over the Chinese.

16. Chapel of the Prince of Heaven. The officers of the factory are seen going to this chapel on occasion of some ceremony.

​17. Chapel of the guardian spirit of the country.

18. Chapel of Kouan-in (Awalokites-chouara).

19. First warehouse. The others, to the number of twelve, are ranged to the left of it, the thirteenth standing in the rear of the chapel of the Guardian Spirit. The numbers are seen on the doors of the warehouses.