京都から高野山の寺院群へ

28. From Kyoto to the Koya-san Monasteries.

*Koya-san (or Takano-yama), a mountain (2800 ft.) in the N.E. part (Wakayama Prefecture), of Kii Province, in the basin of the Yoshino-gawa near the Yamato line; the loftiest eminence of a bulky range that runs E. and W. and holds in its saucer-shaped summit (24 sq. M.) the famous old monastic town of Koya (comp. the accompanying plan), should be visited if time permits, since a journey to it forms one of the most delightful of all the excursions off the beaten track of travel in Japan. Beside forming a fine walking-trip it gives the stranger a glimpse of rural life he would not get elsewhere, as well as of one of the quaintest ecclesiastical communities in the Empire.

The sacred mountain is said to derive its name from the Umbrella Fir known as the Koya-maki, and as the Podocarpus of Koya (Sciadopitys verticillata, Thunberg), a fine and lofty tree (oftentimes 50-65 ft.) with a gray trunk (3 ft. or more in circumference) and cones like those of a pine tree. Here, in its native habitat, it occurs sparsely and is carefully cultivated. — The monastic settlement owes its origin to the famous Kukai (b. 790; d. 840 — better known by the posthumous name of Kobo-Daishi), who entered a Buddhist temple when quite young and at 19 became a priest. In China he studied under the abbot Huikwo, who taught him many of the finer precepts of Buddhism and who commissioned him to take back to Japan the mystic formula of the Shingon-shu (p. cc). On his return he engaged in a discussion organized by the Emperor between the most learned bonzes, and surpassed them all in eloquence and scientific knowledge. Soon thereafter he began to preach the doctrines of the Shingon sect, and after serving as abbot of the Toji at Kyoto, he repaired to Koya-san and founded the Kongo-buji which in time became the largest monastery in Japan. He invented the alphabet mentioned at n. cxxvi, and is said to have possessed almost miraculous artistic ability. Few if any of his works have survived, notwithstanding the hundreds of sculptures and paintings attributed to him. He lived a life of such exemplary sanctity that the credulous refuse to believe him dead and are persuaded that he is awaiting, in a lethargic repose, the coming of Miroku, the Buddhist Messiah.

The summit of the mountain is a magnificently wooded, irregular plateau about 2 M. long, surrounded by forest scarps which terminate in eight points supposed by devout Buddhists to represent the 8 petals of the lotus (hachiyo renge).1 Nestling in this high and sequestered cuspidal basin,

In this somewhat confusing sense hachiyo signifies a coat of arms composed of 8 lotus leaves; and renge (a contraction of chirirenge — a porcelain

far from the ‘madding crowd’ and the complexities of modern life, is one of the most ancient religious foundations in Japan; a strange aggregation of celibate monks forming the lees of a city (a sort of Japanese Mount Athos) which in its prime is said to have contained from 2000 to 9900 glittering temples and 90,000 souls. During the turbulent Middle Ages of Japanese history it had its own soldiers who more than once swept down the mt. side like an avalanche and carried destruction and death to its over-arrogant foes. For years it was a place of exile for political prisoners of rank, and more than one powerful but defeated warrior has been immured here for life in one of the many monasteries. For centuries women were not allowed to come within shouting distance of its hallowed precincts and were forced to turn back at a point near the summit.

To the ignorant, Koya-san is a sort of miracle-working place and by such it is endowed with a sanctity perhaps more profound than any other Buddhist community in the Empire. Thousands of pilgrims of both sexes make the ascent of the mt. each year, and the present town, which consists entirely of temples (about 30 in all, with 250 priests and as many acolytes), monasteries, monkish-hostelries, and shops which cater to their wants, subsist upon the fruits of these pilgrimages — which the entire community (pop. about 2000) stimulate by every means in their power. Many of the shops are dedicated to the sale of objects associated with the worship of Buddha — rosaries, images of saints, and a host of sanctified things similar to those sold in Roman Catholic places of pilgrimage in Europe. The priests sell indulgences (O-fuda) against sickness, the devil, the smallpox, and other things, and make not a little money by the sale of sand (called dosha) from a sacred mt. (Muroosan) in Yamato, [After being consecrated by the priests it is supposed to have the power of softening the rigid joints of a corpse when sprinkled over it, so that the body can be easily laid in the coffin.] Also from paper shrouds (Kid katohira) painted all over with Sanskrit (Jap. Bonji) characters.

From Kyoto to Koya-san. By rly. via Nara to (about 5 hrs.) Koyaguchi, thence by auto, tram-car or on foot to (3 1/2 M.) Shide, or Shiide (see the Plan facing p. 511, and the remarks at p. 513). Or

From Osaka to Nara by the excellent (speedy and cheap) Osaka Denki Kido Kwaisha (Osaka Electric Ely. Co.), thence

spoon made in the shape of a lotus leaf), the lotus itself. The base of the lotus flower on which Buddhist deities are represented as sitting or standing, is called Rendai. The 8 petals are symbols of Buddhist philosophy; when closed they are likened to the untaught mind that knows naught of the sunlight of knowledge which floods them when the flower opens. (Comp. p. dxxxix.)

by rly. to Koyaguchi, etc. See p. 609. Travelers approaching the Mt. from Kobe and Osaka will find this the quickest and cheapest route.

A local electric tramline runs via Hashimoto (see the plan at p. 511) to Shide, thence up to the Gokuraku-bashi (or Paradise Bridge, i.e., bridge separating the Koya paradise from the outer world) mentioned at p. 518.

Non-walkers sometimes employ the (uncomfortable, muscle-twisting) kago (sling) to carry them (2 men for a 100 lb. person; 4 for a heavier man) from Shide (a small hamlet at the foot of the actual incline), but as the men have to rest often, a good walker can make the climb (no dizzy places; good, clear trail; gradual slope) easily in about 4 hrs. The pay of the men should be arranged in advance. Prices flexible.

The return trip should be varied in the manner described hereinafter. A companionable guide from the hotel is desirable, not only to help the traveler carry his kit, but also to serve as courier and interpreter at the Koya-san temples. The season and the weather have a direct bearing upon one’s enjoyment of the trip; on rainy days when clouds hang low over the mts. the splendid views are obscured, and the road, which in some places is vile, is apt to be slippery and deep in mud. This makes the going somewhat wearisome, particularly in the narrow, steepish defiles. The most beautiful season is perhaps April or May; then the wild and broken slopes and forest dingles seem to tremble with electric joy at their spring awakening, and the mt. cherry blossoms, the azaleas and other wild flowers give the world an inkling of what the summer glory is to be.

The majority of the hundred thousand or more pilgrims who annually seek the holy monastic retreat (and who earnestly believe that a pilgrimage hither is necessary to their spiritual salvation), go at this time, before the rice is planted, and so crowd the inns that lodgings must be arranged for in advance, In the full blaze of summer the languorous forest is exquisitely lovely, all color and brilliancy, and vocal with the stridulous calling of a myriad cicadas. Stately ferns and a host of flowering shrubs decorate the winding courses of the hurrying, whimpering streams; the rocky gorges are fragrant with the perfume of countless white lilies and violets; the little-trodden, primeval by-paths are the haunts of many unhunted wild creatures. and the plashing of innumerable waterfalls and cascades ring through the glades. But the June rains have made the roads heavy, and the mt. torrents bring destruction to many of the bridges. In the autumn, after the crops are garnered, and white-clad pilgrims with jingling stalls are again on the move; when the maples, the ichu trees, the vegetable wax, and a host of other turn-coat picaroons are flushing and paling before the advance guards of winter, the forest is lovely beyond description; but it is apt to be cold at the summit. Snow often falls in late Nov. (sometimes 3 ft. deep in Jan, -Feb.) and the ponds show thin ice on their surfaces. But the traveler misses much who does not see the fine old temples of Koya-san on a gray winter morning beneath their thick coating of hoar frost or snow, or when they loom out of their great shadows on a frosty winter night, beneath a steel blue sky powdered with glittering stars. The rapier-like thrusts of Jack Frost are considerably to the point at this elevation, and travelers making a winter pilgrimage should bring heavier wraps than those required by the temperature at Kyoto. A special charm of the early fall is added by the trustfully belated azaleas, late-blooming chrysanthemums, camellias, asters, and sazankwas that one often sees flowering in the warm pockets of the hills with a southern exposure. At this season sections of the mt. sides show

pink with thickly hanging, very puckery wild persimmons, while in the village gardens hosts of globular yellow oranges pend from the trees and contrast sharply with the deep-red berries of the Nandina domestica. Certain

sections possess a decided Tyrolean charm, and the great elevations, the magnificent views, and the deliciously calm and pure air exhilarate one.

The hurried traveler can get a cursory view of Koya-san with a hasty look in at several of the temples and the Buddhist necropolis in a half-day, and by scrambling down to the rly., reach Kyoto before midnight; but by so doing he must necessarily omit a quiet inspection of the best features of the fine old ecclesiological relics of the holy place, deny himself a close acquaintance with the rich treasures stored in the temple godowns, race through the wonderful cemetery (one of the most unique in the world) under its lofty vault of majestic cryptomerias, Chamaecyparis, and other huge coniferous trees flanked by its awe-inspiring tombs, and miss all the soul-stirring views obtainable from the peaks which shut in the place. Most travelers will wish to remain at least 1 whole day and 2 nights; many enjoyable days can be spent roaming over the quaint settlement, attending the temple services or watching the zealous and enthusiastic pilgrims as they hurry from one temple to another and make their orisons before noted shrines or sacred tombs. Some go from one to another like a running streetlamplighter, and feel that they have not done their duty or earned their reward of merit until they have prayed before every sacred place on the circuit to the immortal Kobo-Daishi's tomb.

Whosoever comes to inspect the chief treasures of the older temples must plan carefully in advance, as the same difficulties that confront one elsewhere are here in a more pronounced form. The ecclesiastical junk exhibited before the casual and unknowing visitor does not include the older or finer relics, to see which one must obtain a special permit (through one's ambassador, or minister) from the Imperial Household Department (at Tokyo), and a promise that advices will be sent direct bespeaking special attention and privileges. These advices go to the abbot's residence at the Kongo-buji, whence instructions are sent to the Miei-do, a squat, ostensibly inconsequential little temple which travelers generally overlook, and in whose godowns some of the finest treasures are stored. In due time these will be brought forth and properly displayed and the traveler notified at his inn. The prevailing dampness (which at Koya-san is much like that at Nikko) so injures many of the finer and more delicate paintings on silk or paper that it is with extreme reluctance that the priests consent to withdraw them in summer from their moisture-proof storehouses, Sometimes it is only once in years that the priceless old kakemonos are unrolled, as new creases are inevitably made in them and the finer penciling injured, and in time obliterated. Certain of the old masterpieces, painted many centuries ago, are 10 ft. or more wide by 20 long, and for inspection they must be hung against a smooth wall or spread out on a broad floor; in the latter case, where several are grouped, the temple must be closed temporarily to parishioners, while the traveler is engaged in the inspection. Fees though not obligatory are customary; in special cases the amount rests with the giver. Ordinarily 25 or 50 sen is enough for the priest who conducts one through one of the temples, and a yen is an evidence of generosity. Whosoever gives more imposes a moral burden on the succeeding visitor with a modest income. The average donation of pilgrims to shrines visited by them is 1 sen. Not over 4 or 5 of the remaining temples (all of the Shingon sect of Buddhists) and their relics are worthy of notice. These all lie within the triangle formed by the great front gate, the so-called rear gate, and the settlement end of the cemetery avenue, and are mere shadows of their ancient fame and splendor. The disestablishment of Buddhism and the consequent denationalization of the temples, coupled with the disastrous fires which have swept over the place, have struck blows at Kobo-Daishi's retreat from which it has not recovered. Many prized possessions have been acquired by art-collectors in Japan and abroad, and others have been removed to the Tokyo, Kyoto, or Nara Museums. The traveler will mayhap wish to be reminded that the temples close at 4 p.m., and that in winter particularly, twilight comes soon thereafter. — It is worth while lingering at Koya-san for a bright day on which to make the descent to the rly. The return route is marked by finer and more extensive views than that from Koyaguchi, and whosoever has made the ascent over this road should by all means choose the latter on the downward trip.

The Inns (p. xxxiv) are monastic in character; part inn, part temple, with clean rooms and no female attendants. The monks take care of them.

and though obliging and solicitous of the traveler’s welfare, they do not relish being ordered about like menials in a public hostelry. Foreigners bearing special letters from the Tokyo Gov’t authorities are sometimes lodged in spacious and quasi-luxurious apartments formerly reserved for shoguns and other exalted personages; certain of these suites overlook pretty landscape gardens and have adjacent bath-rooms fitted with crude wooden bath-tubs. Of material interest to the traveler is the fact that there is also a tiny kitchen, a blessed refuge wherein, if he is making a prolonged stay, he may cook his un-Christian food without the vegetarian priests knowing (or caring) that such a sacrilege is being committed! Meals are served in one’s apartment; the food is purely vegetable, and after the second day distressfully unpalatable. Fish, flesh, fowl, butter, cheese, eggs, milk bread, coffee, and other necessaries of life are absent, and are replaced by seaweed, greens, bamboo-shoots, cabbage, daikon in various unappetizing forms, and other garden-truck which one eats as a novelty the first meal and rejects with an involuntary tightening of the throat when it is offered at the second and third. In addition there are flabby mushrooms boiled in very thin water without seasoning; the omnipresent boiled rice without sugar, milk, or salt; a bean-curd (tofu) for which one acquires a liking only after much patient effort; a yellow substance (known as yuba) made of the skin of bean-curd, and looking and tasting like thin-sheet rubber; and insipid sugarless tea. Hot sake can be had when called for. Usually there is a nimblewitted, fleet-footed lad about the place who from long practice in foraging can make a swift sortie on the town shops and return with an egg or a pheasant or something that will keep body and soul together during the sojourn in this pious community. The traveler should bring a well-filled lunchbasket with him from Kyoto. Bread can be toasted nicely over the charcoal hibachi, and the monastery tea can be replaced by a better brand. Followers of Epicurus, particularly those interested in vegetarianism, who are struck by the bulk and heft of certain of the oily-faced priests, may wish to know that they do not extract all their religious fervor from 'garden-ease, ’ for when absent from Koya-san they are allowed to vary their diet.

There are no fixed prices for accommodations, but travelers are expected to pay (and tip) as much as they would in any first-class inn. The money is customarily wrapped in white paper (fees in a separate package) and handed to the attendant in charge just before leaving. Among the best inns are the Shojo Shin-in ('Pure-hearted Temple’), the adjacent Henjo Ko-in, and the (1/2 M.) Kongo-buji. Many of the other temples have a small number of rooms which they hire out to pilgrims. Certain of the monks in charge speak a little clipped English. In the late autumn and winter the halls are woefully chilly, and foot-covering in the form of soft-soled felt slippers is very acceptable. Kimonos in which to sleep are provided, but towels and soap should be taken along. Ask if the house contains a special bath-tub made after foreign designs. As one is usually drenched with perspiration on reaching the summit, a change of underclothing is needful. Unless one has an extra pair of walking-shoes in one’s kit it is highly advisable not to turn wet or muddy shoes over to the innkeeper to clean or dry, as they are apt to be ruined (comp. p. lxxvii). Unless the traveler’s guide knows the settlement, time can be saved by accepting the services of a local guide. It is customary for the attendant at the inn to call in some shopkeeper friend who cheerfully devotes the day to showing the stranger the sights, free of charge, if purchases of souvenirs (two or three yen’s worth leaves him satisfied), etc., be made at his shop. Reputable dealers are supposed not to advance the prices for the occasion. Many attractive little mementoes are on sale, chief among them rosaries (juzu) in various designs. Those most in demand by devout pilgrims are made of the berries of the pippul tree (Ficus religiosa; Jap. bodaiju) or the sacred bo tree of India, under which Sakya-muni, the founder of Buddhism is said to have become ‘enlightened’, and which legend declares was produced at the moment of his birth. The beads of the rosaries are called juzudama, which is also the name for rosaries made of Job’s-tears, and for the seeds themselves. 'Telling the rosary ’ is Juzu wo tsumaguru.

The rly. line from Kyoto to Nara is described at p. 549. From Nara it runs southward through a fair country dotted

by wooded hills, and devoted

with ruinous temples, delimned

to the cultivation of pears. 3 M. Koriyama, and (7 M.) Horyuji are spoken of in Rte. 34. 9 M. Oji is the junction where trains are changed for Osaka City. Passengers for the Koya-san region change into a car marked Wakayama-shi. The environing country is productive and the climate mild; vegetables are often transplanted as late as Dec. and come to fruition before the cold and snow of Feb. 13 M. Shimoda. From (16 M.) Takada a branch rly. leads to (6 M.) Sakurai. We pass the unimportant stations of Shinjo, Gose, Tsubosaka, (24 M.) Yoshinoyuchi (starting-point for Yoshino), Kitauchi, Gojo and Futami. The line threads a tunnel and enters the valley of the Kii-gawa. 34 M. Suda. 37 M. Hashimoto (the station where the train is boarded for the return trip). 40 M. Koyaguchi (rly. entrance to Koya). From this point the rly. continues on past several unimportant stations to (64 M.) Wakayama.

From Koyaguchi the road goes to the left of the station, forms the main street of the village, trends round to the right, and leads out across a low flat region to the wide, sandy bed of the strikingly transparent Kino-gawa — which higher up is called the Yoshino-gawa.

Kuzoyama, the nondescript village on the opposite bank, is of no interest to the traveler. It is a shipping-point for the timber brought down on several narrow streams from the nearby mts. — Traversing the main street then turning to the right and following the Kamo-gaiva up through its winding gorge, one soon comes to a big steel flume (left) where power is generated and transmitted to Kishiwada. Some fine old cherry trees hang over the river, and when they flower in spring, and the boatmen pole their rafts beneath them, they form a pretty picture. Groves of slim young pines clothe some of the hill-slopes, while others show outcroppings of a hard, variegated greenish marble. A wood bridge spans the river near the top of the

gorge, where a brawling confluent rushes down at the right; crossing this one follows the well-kept roadway (maintained by a tax of 1/2 sen levied on every one who crosses the bridge) up through a highly picturesque section where the sun-warmed hillsides are dotted with palmettoes, cherries, and maples (fine autumn tints), and flecked here and there with tiny houses charmingly situated. The twin line of rails on the opposite side of the river are for logging-cars. The lower part of Shide village sprawls on both sides of the gorge and the river; instead of crossing the bridge (right) one follows (5 min.) the narrow, winding street upward to the last rest-house, facing it on the left. Kagos are in waiting here for those who have bespoken them; the ascent is too steep for jinrikis. Hence to the Koya-san gate is 100 of the local cho [the ri in this region contains 50 instead of 36 cho, and is 3 1/2 M. long], and thence to the inn 20 more, making a total of 8 English miles.

[See Weights and Measures, at page xcviii.]

The steepish ascent begins over a well-trodden road beneath great conifers and by the side of a deep, silent gorge choked with vegetation. The majestic hinokis, the extraordinarily tall columnarian cryptomerias, and the splendid retinosporas (some with trunks 9 ft. in circumference), rise grandly in their search for blue sky and free air. Farther on are serrated ranks of beautiful firs (Abies firma), thick groves of lissome bamboos, paper trees, palmettoes, persimmons, cedars, and a host of other trees rising amidst giant ferns and a tangle of dewdrenched, semi-tropical vegetation. Against the deep-green background of the forest the yama-zakura in spring, and the maples in autumn, glow and vie in color with the lustrous green leaves and the rich crimson berries of the nanten. If the traveler happens along here when the luxuriant wild wistaria climbs to the topmost branches of the loftiest trees and there flaunts its ravishing beauty wantonly in the face of the sun, he will witness a floral display which time will not obliterate from his mind. Except in midsummer, when the myriad restless cicadas call to their responsive kin, a strange silence broods above the dense and sometimes gloomy forest; the only sounds one hears are the occasional ringing strokes of a woodman’s axe; the tinkling metal rings a-swing from some pilgrim’s staff; the muffled hoof-beats of a pack-horse picking his way carefully down the sloping trail; the hoarse cawing of distant rooks or the sonorous chant of a wandering priest. The wood-pigeon, whose booming, melodious note one loves to hear in the Japanese forest, seems not to frequent this hallowed precinct, and there is a noticeable absence of birds and squirrels. Wild boars are said to haunt the deep fastnesses of the region hereabout, where many of the gorges are mere blind rifts — wedge-shaped slashes in the hills with no upper outlets. One is often reminded of the beautiful woodland stretches around Karlsbad, and others in the Black Forest; the latter particularly comes to the mind when one emerges from the woods to round some gigantic shoulder where the older trees have been felled and saplings have been planted (by the Forestry Bureau) to replace them. From the rest-houses perched like eagles’ nests on terraces cut from the mt. sides, one enjoys extensive and magnificent panoramas.

About 1 hr. out from Shide the stiff ascent terminates in a broad road which winds in and out and up and down over a relatively level stretch, with such superb views (left) that one feels as if one were walking across the roof of the world. Farbelow, looping gracefully to lower levels, is descried a primitive log-road made of young trees held in place by wood spikes. Heavily laden skids, so nicely adjusted that the friction is counterbalanced by the pull of gravity, are slowly guided down it by squads of lumbermen — for the region hereabout is gov’t property and the cutting down and replanting of trees goes stead-

ily on. Many of the pack-animals one meets are laden with sawn lumber and have their heads held low by a taut martingale — evidently a precaution against stumbling. Squads of straining coolies are often seen coming or going with supplies for the high-perched settlement. As the road ascends one gets beguiling views of the Yoshino-gawa in its distant bed.

At Kamiya Village (Inn: Hana-ya; 1 1/2 hrs. from Shide), where the sapling-road merges into a De Cauville system which carries it up to Koya town, the road bends abruptly to the right and winds through the long single street; here the alternate way to (7 1/2 M.) Hashimoto (which we take on the return), branches off at the left. Koyaguchi is said to be 5 1/2 M. below this point. The dark-brown English walnuts (Juglans regia; Jap. Kurumi; a native of India and the Caucasus) which are gathered in the vicinity and sold in the tiny village shops are almost as good as their foreign prototypes. The grade now slopes downward to a small shrine (Shisun-iwa, or ‘four-inch rock’) with a big black slab setting forth a description of it. Here the roads branch and form an ellipse; the path along the lower angle was used before the upper one was built, and the huge footprint (a sort of worn place) in the rock at the foot of the wooden shrine is said to have been made by Kobo-Daishi’s feet on his many trips up and down the mt. It is one of the sanctified places and is greatly reverenced by the credulous. A noisy stream rushes down the gorge at the right. Higher up it is spanned by the locally celebrated Gokuraku-bashi, or ‘Bridge of the Buddhist Paradise’ (25 ft. long, 8 ft. wide, with 10 bronze giboshu). Several rest-houses stand on the opposite bank, which is a 2 hrs. walk from Shide. Anciently, when the monks of Koya-san were more militant and powerful than they now are, the district beyond this bridge lay within the safety-zone surrounding the free town of Koya; once beyond the bridge criminals or political offenders were outside the reach of the law, and to it many of them hastened as did the early Spaniards who sought a safe asylum in Spanish cathedrals. The stone image of Jizo which sits hard by gives the name, Jizo-zaka, to the execrable stretch of road which zigzags upward just beyond.

It is also called Iroha-Shiju-hachi-zaka, or the ‘Road of the Forty-eight Zigzags' (notwithstanding there are but 33 winding stretches), measuring 8 cho in all. The Iroha (a contraction of Iroha-uta), or i-ro-ha,the first three of the 47 syllabic sounds which form the elements of the Kana alphabet, and which correspond to the A B C of the English alphabet, was invented (comp. p. cxxvi) by Kobo-Daishi, — wherefore its particular application here.

A fatiguing climb of 25 min. lands one on the crest of the stiff and rocky incline and at a neglected shrine (dedicated to Fudo) with a red-headed, fiery image of this divinity ascribed to Kukai. Hence onward the road slopes gently upward beneath giant trees dipping with moisture, over corduroy bridges that

span ravines, or great tree-roots that simulate steps. The hills show the scars of many landslides, and not a few of the huge trees have been riven by lightning. The last bit of climbing is over an atrocious road (ankle-deep in yellow mud during the rainy season), then a smooth stretch flanked by some amazingly tall and graceful cryptomerias. Ten min. of swift striding along this brings one to a plain black gate, the Fudo-zaka guchi, or ‘back entrance' to the temple inclosure. From this point it is 4 hrs. walk from Koyaguchi, 3 from Shide, 1 1/2 from Kamiya, and 1 from Gokuraku-bashi. The time-stained shrine (left) just inside the gate is the Nyonin-do, beyond which, prior to 1873, women were not allowed to go; those who reached this point had to say their prayers here and return. The big bronze image of Jizo (right) dates from 1745; the upstanding bronze figure of Kwannon (amid the trees at the left) was erected in 1852. The building at the turn of the road ahead is the Annai-sho, or ‘Guiding Office.’

In the golden age of Koya-san every Japanese province where the Shingon doctrines were taught was represented here by one or more temples, and the people from any given province, on repairing hither, lodged in, or worshiped at, the corresponding fane. Albeit many of the older structures have perished, the custom still exists, and every visitor is asked by the priestly officer of the Annai-sho whence he came and to which temple he wishes to go. If the stranger at the gate be a foreigner, and comes, perchance, from Kyoto, with no definite idea as to where he will lodge, in all likelihood he will be directed to the Shojo Shin-in, the abbot of which is also the abbot of the Toji at Kyoto. An acolyte (small fee acceptable) with a lantern leads the way, and a 25 min. walk through the serpentine streets brings one to the gate.

Two large and strikingly handsome bronze lanterns and a splendid bronze fountain mark the entrance to the Shojo Shin-in, which stands at the left side of the road, flanking a high hill on which anciently a score or more temples stood, but which now is spread over with a landscape garden. Its situation is convenient for strangers, in that the town and its temples are on one side, and the great cemetery on the other, before retiring the traveler should express his wish to participate in the impressive matinal service held in one of the temple halls. At 5 a.m. (yet 2* full hrs. before daylight in winter) an acolyte awakens him and conducts him along some very cold and draughty passages (an overcoat slipped over the sleeping-kimono is useful) to the Ehai-dd (Ancestral Tablet Hall) wherein are ranged hundreds of mortuary tablets of Japan's honored dead — emperors, shoguns, daimyos, samurai, governors, abbots, and so on. Lighted tapers stand before many of the enshrined tablets and cast a weird, flickering light over the darksome room. At the center, before a low altar loaded with incense-burners and bronze fitments, and illuminated by tapers set in massive metal candlesticks, sits an old abbot, shaven-pated, wrinkled, and thoughtful. His wide chasuble floats out behind him, while spread, to the right and left, like tenuous wings, are lines of somber-gowned acolytes,

Sitting on their feet and intoning the sonorous cadences of the sacred chant. From time to time the abbot spreads his nervous aesthetic fingers and goes through the pantomimic motions of the Buddhist ritual; anon ringing sweet-toned bells, striking a tinkling cymbal, joining in the melodious rhythm of sound, and impressing the beholder by his mysticism. As the stranger from some distant land kneels in the crepuscular light of this vast incense-filled room in one of the most sacred temples of the holiest of holy places in Japan, and, under the mesmeric spell of his surroundings, hearkens to the impassioned invocations to the inscrutable Buddha, he involuntarily likens it to some mysterious central station or power-house where electrical or religious sympathy is generated and flashed in a potent current to a myriad of devotees scattered throughout the Empire sleeping in the stygian darkness of the plains far below!

After the (1 hr.) service an acolyte takes a lamp and conducts the visitor to an adjoining room where a tablet of one of the ancestors of the great Mitsui family is enshrined. Thence to another with an altar containing a superb national treasure in the shape of a beautifully sculptured wood image of Amida, now blackened by time, but carved by the masterly hand of Unkei — who likewise carved the Shi-tenno flanking it. The ferocious-looking Fudo in the next room is unjustifiably ascribed to Kobo-Daishi; before the image are the fagots and a fire-pot to burn the demons which Fudo extracts from human hearts, and the cords with which he first binds them. Special visitors are conducted hence to the abbot's apartments (which overlook a pretty landscape garden), thence to the O-hiroma, a suite with numerous kakemonos and fusuma decorated by Kano Tsunenobu. Conspicuous among these is a colossal pine tree whose great branches extend over several of the panels. Equally noteworthy are two big folding screens (by the eccentric Domo no Matabei) completely covered with palaces and houses and processions and figures, all representative of one of the early Nara epochs. The wide kakemono in the tokonoma is ascribed to Kano Motonobu. In other apartments are pictures of Ainu.

Of the Koya-san Temples the Kongo-buji and its immediate dependencies are the most worth seeing. This old monastery and inn combined, a long, low, weather-beaten but still handsome structure, with gracefully curved roofs and some once splendid wood-carvings of tigers, phoenixes, and what-not (ascribed to a pupil of Hidari Jingoro) in the pierced panels of the main porch, is the residue of the most ancient temple on the mt. It was established by Kobo-Daishi in the 9th cent, on land given him for the purpose by the Mikado. According to tradition Kariba Myojin, the Shinto god of the Yamato Mts. welcomed Kukai on his arrival, and promised protection for

the enterprise. This deity, being fond of the chase, had a special liking for dogs, from which circumstance these animals were the only ones ever permitted within the sacred precincts of the settlement. For many years the monastery enjoyed the Imperial patronage. In 1595 the unnatural Taiko Hideyoshi exiled hither his adopted son Hidetsugu and invited him to perform harakiri — which he did in one of the rooms of the original edifice (see below). In time the Kongo-buji became the wealthiest and most powerful temple in Japan, but the great fire of 1843 destroyed it and left only the main gate — which dates from the 16th cent. The present structure, the headquarters of the Shingon sect in Japan, is interesting from an architectural standpoint, although its charm is somewhat marred by the row of water-barrels in frames, which straddle the ridge-pole and constitute a segment of the fire department. The penthouse roof of the porch is quaint. Arborists will be interested in the tall Koya-maki trees in the park-like front yard. — evergreens which the more vigorous hinoki and cryptomerias seem to crowd out of their native habitat.

The visitor is ushered first into a big hall where there are a dozen or more handsome one-piece cedar doors decorated with hawks and pine trees by Kano Tansen (18th cent.). Adjoining it (left) is the O-hiroma, a spacious suite with numerous sliding fusuma covered with pine trees, bamboos, and life-size cranes on an old-gold ground — the work (perhaps) of Ko-Hogen Motonobu. The shrine in this room is dedicated to Kobo-Daishi, and the little room at the left is crowded with ancestral tablets of members of the Imperial family. In the Plum Room are some attractive movable screens with birds and blossoming plum trees by Kano Tanyu. The Willow Room (yanagi-no-ma), the decorations in which are ascribed to Tansen, stands on the site of the apartment where the unfortunate Hidetsugu disemboweled himself (see above) to satisfy the caprice of Hideyoshi — whose wife had given birth to a boy that succeeded Hidetsugu as the heir. The gold-splashed fusuma with flying cranes are new. The curious bronze monument in the next room, depicting the dying Buddha surrounded by his mourning friends, was a gift from the Tokugawa shogun, Ietsuna, and is a companion piece to the one at the Miyoshin-ji at Kyoto. The recess of the jodan in the adjacent apartment has its entire back wall covered by a noteworthy old Chinese painting by an unknown artist; the striking kakemono here pictures the immortal Kobo-Daishi. Special services are held here by the abbot, whose seat is seen at the edge of the dais. Unkoku Toseki, one of the masters of the Sesshu school, painted the Chinese scenes in sepia on the partitions of the next room. One of the suite is called the Irori-no-ma (* hearth room’) from the queer heating chamber, around which the

monks sit and repeat the sutras in cold weather. The striking kakemono of Yakushi-Nyorai in a red robe backed by a dark ground is by an unknown painter. The big kitchen (daidokoro), where the simple food of the monks and visiting pilgrims is prepared, is worth looking into. — The structure hard by the Kongo-buji is the Theological Seminary (gakurin) where the various tenets of Buddhism are taught. Passing up a short avenue flanked by Koya-maki trees one soon reaches

The Miei-do (‘Ancestral Hall’), a low, square, single-storied building with a thatched roof surmounted by a hoshu-no-tama. The interior is restricted by a shrine within a wall whose ten square outer panels carry each a portrait of one of Kukai's disciples. The much venerated picture within the shrine is of the great apostle himself. One of the most precious of the temple treasures, perhaps authentic but of little worth to foreigners, is a small terra-cotta figure of Buddha said to have been modeled by Kobo-Daishi (1100 yrs. ago) when 7 yrs. old. Of equal merit is a brown-lacquered box with the almost obliterated outline of a lion on the top, containing a plaited straw sandal said to have been given to him by the Emperor Saga — but whose authenticity requires verification. A genuine curio is a tarred calabash, made of several sheets of beaten and compressed paper covered with a thin layer of exfoliated lacquer decorated dimly with gold butterflies, within which is a chaplet given to the great Buddhist teacher by the Emperor of China who reigned during the early years of the 9th cent. It is considered so precious that it is stored, along with the two aforementioned articles, in a special godown, with very thick, fireproof walls, and is taken out only on the rarest occasions. Of greater interest to the traveler is the superb mandara about 10 by 10 ft. sq., called Nehan-zo, or ‘Buddha Entering Nirvana,’ an admirably executed work regarded by Japanese critics as one of the greatest masterpieces extant in Japan, and on a par with some of Raphael Sanzio's best work.

The fact that this magnificent picture was painted by an obscure Japanese bonze who was born (in 942; d. 1017) 541 yrs. before the great Italian saw the light at Urbino, is significant of the latent possibilities of this singular people. Eshin Sozu (Sozu means an exalted dignitary in the Buddhist hierarchy), whose real name was Urabe Genshin, who entered the Hiei-zan Monastery at an early age, studied under Jie-Daishi, became a scholar, painter, and sculptor; who built the Eshin-in temple at Yokawa and prepared the foundation of the Jodo sect, is believed to have achieved this marvel of technical skill about the year 1000. The original canvas was three times its present size, the two remaining segments having perished or disappeared. Because of this certain critics deny its authenticity, and ascribe it to some clever copyist of the Otoku era (1084-87). The subject (often referred to as ‘The Heavenly Band’) is a favorite one with Indian, Chinese, and Japanese painters; Shaka is portrayed returning to heaven after his brief sojourn on earth, and the manifest joy of the celestial host contrasts admirably with the tragic and hopeless grief depicted on the faces of his earthly followers. The drawing is done with great character and dignity, and the beautiful darkgreen silk background makes a superb foil for the scores of figures, flowers, clouds, temples and what-not skillfully displayed on its surface. The phe-

nomenal mastery of detail, the perfect skill with which the dark sfumato shadows have been painted on a ground glowing with soft, ethereal light; the spiritual conception of the whole, and the wonderful harmony of color recall some of the work of Murillo done in his best manner. It is extraordinarily well preserved, and in point of color and freshness is superior to most of the Japanese paintings of all classes distributed throughout the Empire.

The fine kakemono showing Shaka enthroned on a lotus meditating in the midst of the eight bosatsu is peculiarly attractive, and is by Cho Shikyo. The placid expression of the great teacher as he sits with bared breast and hands held down is unusually pleasing; the tones throughout are low and harmonious, in fine contrast to the splendid red robe patterned with gold disks. Hard by is a sadly defaced but striking picture of the Rain God a faint but commanding figure perhaps a thousand yrs. old, with the tip of a dragon's tail showing at the bottom of the canvas. The bizarre, light-toned kakemono of Dainichi-Nyorai, though apparently modern, is extremely old and strangely preserved. There is a mysterious something about the picture that impresses one queerly; the serenely beautiful, radiantly calm face, with downcast, womanly eyes, and pinkish, bow-shaped lips, has a subtle madonna quality that reminds one of the exquisitely dainty Andalusian santas of Murillo. The comparison is heightened by the fine flesh tints, the low-toned reds and blues, and the faint and harmoniously transparent shades that can only be produced by lightproof pigments. The charm of the winsome face and the purity of the general effect haunts one. Numerous tiny Buddhas with delicate little faces adorn the gold diadem, and around the twin circles drawn in outline on the background flame thin lines of divine fire such as one sometimes sees

enveloping the relentless Fudo. The silken strips which form the body of the kakemono are narrower than modern stuffs and are of a kind popular about a thousand yrs. ago. The painter's name is unknown, but the work bears a strong resemblance to certain of Mokkei’s best productions. The old kakemono (ascribed to Kobo-Daishi), portraying Kariba Myojin and his mother, are ranked as masterpieces and belong to the National Treasury. A mandara of noteworthy excellence and amazing technique, about 5 by 15 ft., of Korean origin, painter unknown, with a host of figures in low-toned greens and reds and gold, represents Shaka and his disciples, and is painted on a thin coarse cloth bordered with green strips from the costumes of a group of dancers who once entertained Hideyoshi and Ieyasu here. It is an admirable production, comparable to certain of the finest work of native artists, and surpassing many of them in execution and impressiveness. Another, 6 by 8 ft., boldly wrought in dark brown, shows Shaka-Nyorai as a finely modeled, bearded man with ear-rings — a commanding and masterly production by Toyeki.

Spread out on a beautifully lacquered table. for the better

inspection of special visitors are various national treasures of bronze, lacquer, etc.; the goko, sanko, kuko, and toko (p. ccxii), and the bronze hand-bells (called goko-rei, sanko-rei, etc.) showing these symbols on their handles, were brought from China by Kobo-Daishi. The little lacquered shrine, now falling to decay, is interesting chiefly for its great age and for the fact that it was perhaps made anterior to the Fujiwara epoch. The rosaries were given to Kukai by an early Chinese emperor. The extraordinarily fine sq. wood blocks (about 6 by 8 in. and called tsumehori no mandara), shown as specimens of Kukai’s amazing ability as a sculptor in wood, should not be overlooked. The myriad hair-lines are almost incredibly minute, and suggest marvelous patience and skill. — Not the least interesting of the temple treasures are 4000 scrolls of the Buddhist scriptures, the residue of the 5000 said to have been presented by the Fujiwara shogun, Hidehira, in 1150; some have cut crystal tips, while others are silver or chased gold. All are beautifully inscribed on blue paper, one ideographic line being in gold and the alternate one in silver. Ecclesiologists will be interested in the 28 special rolls (presented in 1590 by Toyotomi Hideyoshi) written in gold on blue parchment-like paper, with elaborately chased silver tips and clasps. To those who are interested the priest will show some old flat Chinese folding books of similar character, written in silver; and some others (very precious) written in black in one of the earliest forms of ideographic style. Some of the modern Korean scrolls are illuminated, and lovely gold tracery illustrates certain of the texts. — Just across the road from the Miei-do is the barbarically splendid

Kon-do, or Golden Hall, an aptly named, massive, two-storied, square, tile-roofed edifice dating from 1852 and occupying the site of an older structure burned a decade earlier. Its beautiful situation backed by green and lofty trees, and the breadth and depth of the bold wood-sculptures on the weather-beaten exterior, make a stronger appeal than the profusely decorated interior, which blazes with gold and color and is a bit too gaudy to be in good taste. The custodian (whose office is in the squat building down at the left) sometimes lets the visitor in through the rear door (diagonally opposite the Miei-do). The first things one sees on the inside here are the great doors swung on huge pivots let into soffits above and below, serving as rear exits (in case of fire) for the splendid Yakushi-Nyorai on the main altar. They are made of single, massive, lacquered and brass-trimmed keyaki slabs, and are 4 ft. wide and 18 ft. long. Extending round to the right and left are some striking painted panels of the Sixteen Rakan, strong in composition and with extraordinarily expressive faces. The temple is constructed on the plan of three nested squares, one within the other, the brilliancy and decoration

increasing as one penetrates to the center, where the main shrine stands like a jewel in a triple reliquary. The keyaki pillars (from Shinano Province) lacquered a rich Indian red, then completely covered with heavy gold foil, are superb. Between the outer pillars are slatted, black-lacquered doors that impart a wholesome sobering effect; above them are 17 carved and gilded panels of flying tennin admirably executed in high relief by Nakagawa, a modern artist. Above is a wealth of arabesques, gilded tie- and cross-beams, and a confusing maze of diaper-work in noisy colors. The central panel with its twin angels of the Buddhist Paradise is a good illustration of the skill displayed by present-day sculptors in the subtle art of carving in wood — as are likewise the small but artistically chiseled and colored groups of birds on the superimposed beams. The tiny sunken panels of the coffered ceiling each carry different flower-designs.

The outer hall, or gejin, admits one to the interior, or naijin, where the most conspicuous thing is the wide lacquered base supporting a gold-lacquered reliquary containing a seated image of Yakushi-Nyorai, unwarrantably ascribed to Kobo-Daishi. The seated figures at the right are Kongo-bosatsu, Fugen, and Fudo; and at the left Kongo Satta, Kokuzo bosatsu, and Gozanze Myo-o. The mandara against the left wall depicts Kariba Myojin and his mother, with Kezai Myojin and Bezaiten below. The figure on the kakemono at the right, in a realistic seated posture, with his Chinese shoes beneath his chair, is the omnipresent Mr. Daishi, when he was 42 yrs. old. The ceiling of the naijin is a duplicate of that of the gejin except that the complex portion above the shrine carries dragons and mythological phoenixes painted in restless colors. Before the great altar, on the highly polished black-lacquered floor, are many temple fitments — a veritable jumble of native brass burnished to a fine luster. Four of the great gold-covered upright pillars are decorated w'ith scowling Gods of the Four Directions, with bases and capitals enriched with polychromatic decorations made to imitate draperies. The mural decorations are noteworthy; the largest wall-panels are 20 by 25 ft., painted to represent the two halves of the Buddhist universe and portraying a host of figurines executed with no mean skill.

Certain of the tawdry, decaying structures in the vicinity of the Kon-do are used as storehouses and are crammed with small and large gilt images rescued from the many fires which have destroyed the older temples; one of them (left) is upward of 700 yrs. old and in consequence ranks as one of the most ancient edifices in the settlement. It is gov’t property, is included in the list of national treasures, and is very carefully preserved from fire. The statue of Fudo which one may see through the cracks in the door is erroneously attributed to

Unkei. In the Daiye-do, across the road, is a group of huge gilded figures of Amida and his suite. The small building called Juntei-do, just beyond the Miei-do, contains a Kwannon said to have been chiseled by Kukai. Next to it is an old shed that houses 5 huge and excellently preserved images of the God of Wisdom (which occupied better quarters before the old pagoda was burned in 1888). On the slightly elevated terrace at the left stands the quaintly constructed Saito, or Western Pagoda, also crowded with small statues. The greatly revered Shinto shrines across the way are dedicated to Kariba Myojin and his consort. — The curious hexagonal Revolving Library (kyozo) is two-storied and is put together like a primitive log cabin.

The broad road leading up at the right goes to the (1/2 M.) Great Gate (dai-mon), which dates from the Genroku era (1688-1704). Before the rly. reached Koyaguchi it was the chief entrance to the sacred inclosure. It stands at the W. side of this, and is an immensely sturdy old structure with a heavy superimposed roof covered with tiles. Two huge, badly splintered Nio guard it from their respective loggias, and glare out fiercely at whosoever approaches from this angle. From its commanding position on a broad terrace which slopes abruptly to the deep valley just below, one enjoys a marvelous view of forest-belted mts. and distant vales. The one-time popular (but now unattractive) road which leads (right) to (12 ri — 30 M.) Wakayama, is but little used, and after the spring rains is apt to be in bad repair. The seated bronze figure just inside the entrance (left) is Miroku-bosatsu. The Shojo Shin-in is a 25 min. walk from here, and on the return one sees straight ahead, 35 M. distant, the bare, pointed cone of Jin-gamine, from whose summit one may look out across thirty provinces.

The Karukaya-do, a small shrine on the main road to the inn, is popular with pilgrims because of the story associated with it. The framed picture protected by a wire screen near the entrance, portraying two women in low relief with real hair and clothes, playing go-ban; their heads nearly touching, their hair merging above in entwined serpents which glare venomously at one another, explains the theme. They were the wives of Karukaya-doshin and they lived together amicably until the fire of jealousy flamed out. Karukaya watched them one day as they played the national game, and his fancy pictured the serpents and the smothered conflict in their hearts. Straightway he renounced them and the world, retired to Koya-san, shaved his head, founded the temple, and became a monkish recluse. Later, when his beloved son ’followed and begged him to return, he dramatically denied any knowledge of him! This tragic episode — which appeals strongly to Japanese emotions, and which has been dramatized and retold

time and again in song and story — is pictured here; the rigid but heart-broken father, and the dazed and weeping son. Portraits of Karukaya hang within the temple. The moral of the story is addressed to the polygamously inclined.

The Eko-in, 5 min. from the Shojo Shin-in is now shorn of its whilom splendor. The pictures for which it was once celebrated have been transferred to museums and private collections, and all that remains — some tiger screens by Kano Tanyu, and a carved wood Kwannon of the Fujiwara period — are not worth going to see.

The Kongo Sammai-in, 15 min. walk, is very old and is one of the few temples that has not suffered from the fires which have scourged the settlement. Chief among its interior adornments is a screen by Oguri Sotan (1398-1464) showing some large trees, flowers, and birds on a faded gold background, and some white cranes feeding among brown reeds — all more noteworthy for rich coloring than for conception. A series of paintings show Kobo-Daishi and his traditional Chinese companions (a favorite theme of native painters). What is perhaps a genuine bit of old Chinese lacquer is preserved in the shape of a gong-stand with uprights decorated in gold hummocks flecked with tiny trees, amidst which gallop awkward horsemen (typically Chinese) shooting with bows and arrows, or hurling javelins at birds. Of greater historical interest is the archaic twin-storied pagoda known as the Taho-to, built by the order of Masako, mother of the 3d Minamoto shogun, Sanetomo during the Kamakura epoch (1192-1219). The inner shrine of this wonderful old relic, that has slept here in the ancient peace of great trees for nearly a millennium, contains some good sculptured figures (by Unkei) of Shaka, Dainichi-Nyorai, Amida, and other divinities, all backed by gilded and pierced mandorlas. The four sturdy columns which support the ceiling are enriched with painted medallions. Special engineers came hither from Tokyo to repair the structure in 1908, and sustained efforts are being made to prolong its life. The group of 6 cryptomeria trees in the yard are almost as old and as famous as the aged shrine at the left — a national treasure (said to be the oldest standing wood shrine in Japan) built by Minamoto Yoritomo in the year of Our Lord a.d. 1190!

The Cemetery (rantoba), a vast, awe-inspiring City of the Dead extending for 1 1/2 M. through a narrow grove of stately cryptomeria and hinoki trees, and intersected by a strikingly beautiful avenue terminating at the (40 min.) Mandoro, or Hall of the Ten Thousand Lamps, is one of the most curious in Japan, and should not be missed. Immediately behind this structure is the Okuno-in (‘Innermost Temple'), where lie the bones of the immortal Kobo-Daishi. The avenue begins at the Ichi-no-hashi (‘First Bridge’), which spans

a runnel called the Odo-gawa (Chinese: * Imperial Domain River'), 1 min. beyond the Shojo Shin-in. Several hundred tombs, miniature pagodas, torii, vaults, and the like are scattered through the splendid grove, and range in size from a tiny. chiseled figure, no larger than one's hand to colossal granite structures weighing several tons; some are new and are all aglitter with gilt and bronze; others are weather-stained, and moss- and lichen-covered. The handsome bronze shafts, covered with gilded characters in high relief and surmounted by burnished capitals which customarily rise from broad granite plinths, are known as ‘ party monuments,' the scores of names incised in the bronze sides being those of devotees who wish to be perpetuated here so that their souls may enter the cherished Jodo, or ‘Pure Land of Perfect Bliss,' and be with that of the great founder. While some of the tombs stand above the actual remains of honored dead, others are merely monuments inscribed with the names of persons interred in distant parts of the Empire. Not a few mark the spot where a wisp of hair, some ashes, a bone, or a tooth of a devotee is buried. Conspicuous among the tombs are the ponderous and picturesque stupa-shaped ones, known locally as gorin-no-to) because they are composed of five sculptured layers of stone, one on the top of another, and represent (in Hindu literature) the five elements — earth, water, fire, wind, and space. The largest (which commemorates one of the daimyos of Suruga Province) is 28 ft. high and has a foundation 12 ft. sq. The oldest is of the celebrated Minamoto shogun, Tada Mitsunaka (or Tada Manju), and dates from 907. All were rolled, or dragged, or pushed up the mt. at an almost unthinkable expense of time, labor, and money; the tomb of one of the great Lords of Satsuma was so heavy that history says it could be moved but 3 in. a day, and that several years were required to bring it to its final resting-place!

Proceeding down the winding avenue — a beautiful and impressive sight when the rising sun lays golden shafts of light between the lofty trees — one notes at the left the fine tombs of the once powerful daimyos of Kaga, Satsuma, Rikuzen, and other provinces; not far from the bridge at the right are those of Taira Atsumori and Kumagaya Naozane (p. 441). Farther on is the tomb of Takeda Harunobu (Shingen). Near it is a stone where Kobo-Daishi used to sit, and which in consequence is called Kobo-Daishi’s sitting-stone. Not far away is a curiously crooked willow tree called the ‘Dragon Willow.’ The big bronze statue is of Kobayashi Sahei, a rich man of Osaka. Japanese regard the tomb of Akechi Mitsuhide (the poetaster and traitor who essayed to kill Oda Nobunaga) with bated breath, since it is split (by a thunderbolt) in twain. — The small rly. which runs underneath the avenue here is the prolongation of the timber-road passed at Kamiya. At the

poetaster and traitor who essayed to kill Oda Nobunaga) with bbbbbated breath, since it is split (by a thunderbolt) in twain. — The small rly. which runs underneath the avenue here is the prolongation of the timber-road passed at Kamiya. At the

left of the bridge is Kobo-Daishi's Well, where the great man is said to have seen the reflection of his face; the credulous drink the polluted water in staggering doses and ascribe miraculous stomachic virtues to it. The near-by tomb of Shimazu (of the great family of daimyos who governed Satsuma from the end of the 12th cent, onward) came from distant Ryukyu; the group of monuments encircling it commemorate the men who fell during Hideyoshi’s invasion of Korea. To enumerate all the prominent tombs would merely confuse the reader. Some stand to the memory of emperors, shoguns, to the militant Shinran Shonin, to Enko-Daishi, to the popular actor Ishikawa Danjuro, and to many notable and less noteworthy painters, poets, scholars, warriors, priests, princes, etc.

The time-stained Goma-do, which stands at the right of the path hereabout, contains several shrines, one with a wooden image of Kobo-Daishi said to have been carved by him at the age of 42 — a critical age with Japanese, who believe that the dice, cards, and what-not shown on the accompanying picture must be renounced at this period else they will become symbolic of an early demise. At the right and left of the image stand a thousand small images of Kwannon — carved, gilded, and worthless. The adjacent shrine is dedicated to Fudo. Behind it is a very old building, the Gokusho, with a reliquary displaying dim old mandaras of the two halves of the Buddhist universe; offerings are made here to Kukai's spirit. The bronze figures just beyond are called the Six Jizo, or Mizu muke Jizo, from the circumstance that pilgrims take water from the trough at their feet and sprinkle it over them in the belief that by so doing merit accrues to their forebears. The small, lichen-covered bridge, with its 8 bronze giboshu spanning the Tamo-gawa at this point, is called Go-Byo-bashi (‘Bridge to Kobo-Daishi's Tomb’); those who listen with credulity to the whispered tradition believe that no one can cross it who is not approved by the great teacher's spirit! The monument at the right dates from 1912 and commemorates the brave and willing men who died in the titanic struggle between the Japanese Fox and the Russian Bear. A small cage at the left of the avenue contains a curious stone (called Miroku-ishi — ‘Buddhist deity stone ’) resembling a mass of fused metal; it is said to have been brought from China by Kobo-Daishi over a thousand yrs. ago. The trees hereabout are splendidly straight and tall; the big one near by at the left, inclosed by a wooden fence and girdled with a rope, is called Ryuto-Sugi (‘Cedar of the Dragon's Lantern '), since in its topmost boughs the heavenly spirits have been known to hang celestial lights! Wherefore a sign-board cautions the sacrilegious not to touch it. The great tree opposite measures 27 ft. 3 in. in circumference 4 ft. above the ground. In the fenced space at the left of the walk are numerous tombs of Mikados and

other Imperial personages. The bronze image with thoughtful and contemplative face which sits at the left of the steps leading up to the Mandoro, is a Jizo which the ailing commonalty have rubbed until one knee shows a fine patina. Before inspecting the Hall of Ten Thousand Lamps (a grandiloquent misnomer) we proceed (left) to

The Hall of Bones (Kotsu-do), a grisly and repulsive circular edifice plastered over with ex-votos and visiting-cards, and enriched with numerous bunches of hair resembling dried scalp-locks. In the slatted door is a hole through which bones are tossed into a common ossuary — a sort of pauper pit for the corporeal bits of those who could not afford to command a tomb, but who wished some of their anatomy to rest contiguous to Kobo-Daishi’s remains. By this ingenious method they hoped to obtain a sort of blanket fire insurance and the grace with which to start a new life in the wished-for land of ideal purity. The path leading beyond the small gate at the left goes to minor tombs that are not worth inspecting.

Kobo-Daishi’s Tomb, the Ultima Thule of his devoted followers, where the sainted prophet is supposed to sit uncorrupted, awaiting his next incarnation, is at the right, behind a barred fence, within a weather-beaten shrine surmounted by a,hoshu-no-tama. It is the most popular object of veneration within the holy precincts of Koya-san if not of Central and Western Japan, for more than one hundred thousand persona from all parts of the Empire come here annually to pay homage to the memory of the man who first propounded the Shingon doctrines in Nippon, and who, in bringing Koya-san into animate life, perpetuated his name perhaps for all time. Thousands crowd hither on the 21st of March, when new vestments are laid upon the tomb and the old ones retired. The fragrant smoke of incense blends eternally with that of the flowers which are always kept fresh before the sepulcher. Many bronze vases, lotuses, lanterns, and the like embellish the spot. The dilapidated old structure at the right is the Revolving Library, with an uninteresting Monju-bosatsu.

The Mandoro, a ramshackle wooden building about 40 by 100 ft., erected by Ishida Kazushige (or Mitsunari — leader of the army of 130,000 men defeated by Tokugawa Ieyasu at Sekigahara, Oct. 21, 1600), has a darksome interior partly filled with a hundred or more brass lanterns in which tiny wicks burn and flicker faintly — hence the high-sounding title of Hall of Ten Thousand Lamps. These are the gifts of various persons; the bright one at the right is said to have burned without interruption for more than a thousand yrs. One, the gift of the Emperor Shirakawa Ho-o was lit at his death in 1129 and has not been extinguished! For 5 sen the priest will go through a brief ceremony and intone an invocation to Kobo-Daishi's spirit. An additional income is derived from the sale

of small images (10 sen) of this saint, pressed into an embossed tablet made from the ashes of incense burned before his shrine. Tiny bits of the cloth, of which the vestments placed on the tomb are made, are eagerly bought by the credulous, who believe that an illness can be cured by shredding and swallowing them, or by rubbing the ailing spot with them. The crystal rosary spread out on the piece of silk brocade at the right of the reliquary belonged to Kukai. Behind it, under a sort of baldachin, is a gold-lacquered, stupa-shaped shrine (sharito) presented by the Emperor Saga. — On the way back to the inn note the fine old carvings in the spandrel formed by the two sides of the roof and the ridge of the Gokusho. The tombs opposite the entrance, on a terrace at the right, are of Oda Nobunaga and his family, and Toyotomi Hideyoshi.

The Return to Nara or Kyoto can be pleasantly varied by following the route described below. If breakfast be ordered for 6 a.m., and a start made at 7, the rear gate can be reached and the descent begun 25 min. later. A swinging stride brings one to the Gokuraku-bashi at 7.50, and Kamiya at 8.10. At the far end (35 min.) of this hamlet stands a signpost marking a road which leads straight on and another (traversed on the upward climb) which turns sharply up at the left. From this angle Koyaguchi is 2 ri, 10 cho, and Hashimoto Station (farther up the line) about 3 ri. Continuing along the smoother but narrower Hashimoto trail one soon emerges on a lofty ridge between two deep ravines whence the eye sweeps over a vast extent of magnificent mt. and plain — the latter idealized by the winding, thread-like Kino-gawa and a number of villages. The one standing by the river bank is Kudomura, and that beyond, Koyaguchi. The vista is tremendous, and the knowledge of altitude and distance charms the sense. The microscopic towns stand exposed like points on a relief map; the tiny houses look like Japanese match-boxes, and the rly. trains recall the toy ‘chu-chu* cars of childhood. The blue mts. rise in serried ranks to the distant sky-line, while between us and the river the vegetation which belts the hills is seen to change with the subtle gradations of climate — from the cool, brooding cypresses on the mt. tops, to the flower-decked summer-land miles below. The dilated eye dominates a thousand square miles of delightful landscape, picked out here and there with flowering gardens or fruitful orchards. The hills are always green — a permanent charm of the Japanese country — and the lissome, plumelike bamboos which rise with the palmettoes amid the deciduous and evergreen trees impart a semitropic and pleasing aspect. The road to Koyaguchi loops down across the gorge at the left; the main one flanks the deep chasm at the right, with a small river churning through it.

The straggling village of Koyamura, which clings like a

group of swallows' nests to the sloping side of the cliff, is passed at 8.50, along with the several succeeding clusters of houses beyond it. Twenty min. later one rounds the corner of a bold headland and descries far ahead, perched on a ridge above the brawling Kawane-gawa, the strikingly picturesque village (prettiest by far of all the others of the countryside) of Kaneyeki. The view is bewitching; the dashing river makes a wide turn round a triangular headland jutting out from a tall range, then runs in a contrary direction before losing itself like a silver snake among the hills; the highroad which links primitive Kaneyeki to the modern railway follows it along a higher level, and recalls some of the superb mt. roads of Switzerland, The descent hither is quite steep — a legwearying climb when approached from the opposite direction — and leads to the river, the village, and a quaint old arched bridge adorned with ten bronze giboshu. On the opposite shore a steep, rocky street leads upward through the town, the inhabitants of which seem all engaged in making the paper umbrellas for which it is locally celebrated. Jinrikis are obtainable here; prices are flexible and are usually graded according to the traveler's fatigue and his anxiety to employ one. At the head of the street (reached at 9.35) the jinriki road bears round to the left; walkers can save a half-mile by climbing up the steep but broad road which winds up at the right, and joins the main highway (25 min.) on the other side of the Kane Pass. As we follow this upward slope charming views are obtained in retrospect of the quaint and attractive little village sheltered by high, encircling hills. In this sequestered, sun-warmed winter station flowers flame until late Dec., and great yellow shaddocks (jabon) and oranges of varying sizes ripen in the winter sun. The (15 min.) hilltop is almost covered with orange groves heavy with globular fruit. Considerable thin copying-paper (gampishi), made from the bast and bark of the young shoots of gampi and the kozo or paper-mulberry tree (Papyrus papyrifera; often referred to by the untenable name of Broussonetia — from Broussonet, a French naturalist, 1761-1807), is made in the neighborhood and is in demand because of its excellent quality. As we emerge on the national road at 10 a.m., Koyaguchi is visible at the far left. Belated azaleas, roses (prominent among them the mullen-pink — Lychnis Coronaria), asters of many shades, and other wild flowers deck the hill-slopes and gulches. At 10.25 we enter the long, somnolent town of Kamuro, with a temple called Karukaya-do (a tawdry replica of the one at Koya-san) and a bronze Jizo sitting negligently on a stone lotus in the yard. Passing the inn (Tamaya) one bears to the right and continues along the main street; the river runs below at the left, and many rafts of logs and thick bamboos float down on the current. The hills behind the town are terraced.

and planted to rice. In winter the draughty shops are almost filled with the wild persimmons (p. 397) which thrive hereabout. Scores of strings of them hang from the rafters beneath the eaves there to dry and blacken and wrinkle in the sun. Unless they are peeled and so ripened before eating they are acrid and puckery, and will make the best set of False teeth a temporary misfit!

Farther on the river makes a wide detour, and to reach the ferry one must go out through the upper end of the town and continue for an appreciable distance — first along a good lowland road covered with carefully tended, pollarded mulberry trees, thence through two small towns to Kamuro no Shimizu village, on the river bank. Considerable silk is made in the vicinity, and during spare hours the people sit just within the doors of their houses (or in the local factory) reeling the tenuous threads from steaming cocoons.

Hashimoto, on the opposite shore, is reached after a walk of about 4 1/2 hrs. from Koya-san. The rly. station is about 10 min. walk from the bridge.

Because of the local custom of placing demon antefixes at the salient points of the roofs, many of the quaint dwellings resemble temples. Dogs are pressed into service in the region, and are made to help the people in a variety of ways.

By boarding a tram passing through Hashimoto about noon, one can be in Kyoto about 6 p.m. (see the Time Table), or in Osaka (by the electric rly.) in about 2 hrs.