Chapter X: Part 10

Newspapers, as the term is understood in the West, did not exist in
old Japan, though block-printed leaflets were occasionally issued to
describe some specially stirring event. Yet the Japanese were not
entirely unacquainted with journalism. During the last decades of the
factory at Deshima the Dutch traders made it a yearly custom to submit
to the governor of Nagasaki selected extracts from newspapers arriving
from Batavia, and these extracts, having been translated into
Japanese, were forwarded to the court in Yedo together with their
originals. To such compilations the name of _Oranda fusetsu-sho (Dutch
Reports)_ was given. Immediately after the conclusion of the first
treaty in 1857, the Yedo authorities instructed the office for
studying foreign books _(Bunsho torishirabe-dokoro)_ to translate
excerpts from European and American journals. Occasionally these
translations were copied for circulation among officials, but the bulk
of the people knew nothing of them. Thus the first real newspaper did
not see the light until 1861, when a Yedo publisher brought out the
_Batavia News_, a compilation of items from foreign newspapers,
printed on Japanese paper from wooden blocks. Entirely devoid of local
interest, this journal did not survive for more than a few months. It
was followed, in 1864, by the _Shimbun-shi (News)_, which was
published in Yokohama, with Kishida Ginko for editor and John Hiko for
sub-editor. The latter had been cast away, many years previously, on
the coast of the United States and had become a naturalized American
citizen. He retained a knowledge of spoken Japanese, but the
ideographic script was a sealed book to him, and his editorial part
was limited to oral translations from American journals which the
editor committed to writing. The _Shimbun-shi_ essayed to collect
domestic news as well as foreign. It was published twice a month and
might possibly have created a demand for its wares had not the editor
and sub-editor left for America after the issue of the 10th number.
The example, however, had now been set. During the three years that
separated the death of the _Shimbun-shi_ from the birth of the Meiji
era (October 1867) no less than ten quasi-journals made their
appearance. They were in fact nothing better than inferior magazines,
printed from wood-blocks, issued weekly or monthly, and giving little
evidence of enterprise or intellect, though connected with them were
the names of men destined to become famous in the world of literature,
as Fukuchi Genichiro, Tsuji Shinji (afterwards Baron Tsuji) and Suzuki
Yuichi. These publications attracted little interest and exercised no
influence. Journalism was regarded as a mere pastime. The first
evidence of its potentialities was furnished by the _Koko Shimbun (The
World)_ under the editorship of Fukuchi Genichiro and Sasano Dempei.
To many Japanese observers it seemed that the restoration of 1867 had
merely transferred the administrative authority from the Tokugawa
Shogun to the clans of Satsuma and Choshu. The _Koko Shimbun_ severely
attacked the two clans as specious usurpers. It was not in the mood of
Japanese officialdom at that time to brook such assaults. The _Koko
Shimbun_ was suppressed; Fukuchi was thrust into prison, and all
journals or periodicals except those having official sanction were
vetoed. At the beginning of 1868 only two newspapers remained in the
field. Very soon, however, the enlightened makers of modern Japan
appreciated the importance of journalism, and in 1871 the _Shimbun
Zasshi (News Periodical)_ was started under the auspices of the
illustrious Kido. Shortly afterwards there appeared in
Yokohama--whence it was subsequently transferred to Tokyo--the
_Mainichi Shimbun (Daily News)_, the first veritable daily and also
the first journal printed with movable types and foreign presses. Its
editors were Numa Morikage, Shimada Saburo and Koizuka Ryu, all
destined to become celebrated not only in the field of journalism but
also in that of politics. It has often been said of the Japanese that
they are slow in forming a decision but very quick to act upon it.
This was illustrated in the case of journalism. In 1870 the country
possessed only two quasi-journals, both under official auspices. In
1875 it possessed over 100 periodicals and daily newspapers. The most
conspicuous were the _Nichi Nichi Shimbun (Daily News)_, the _Yubin
Hochi (Postal Intelligence)_, the _Choya Shimbun (Government and
People News)_, the _Akebono Shimbun (The Dawn)_, and the _Mainichi
Shimbun (Daily News)_. These were called "the five great journals."
The _Nichi Nichi Shimbun_ had an editor of conspicuous literary
ability in Fukuchi Genichiro, and the _Hochi Shimbun_, its chief
rival, received assistance from such men as Yano Fumio, Fujita
Makichi, Inukai Ki and Minoura Katsundo. Japan had not yet any
political parties, but the ferment that preceded their birth was
abroad. The newspaper press being almost entirely in the hands of men
whose interests suggested wider opening of the door to official
preferment, nearly all editorial pens were directed against the
government. So strenuous did this campaign become that, in 1875, a
press law was enacted empowering the minister of home affairs and the
police to suspend or suppress a journal and to fine or imprison its
editor without public trial. Many suffered under this law, but the
ultimate effect was to invest the press with new popularity, and very
soon the newspapers conceived a device which effectually protected
their literary staff, for they employed "dummy editors" whose sole
function was to go to prison in lieu of the true editor.

Japanese journalistic writing in these early years of Meiji was marred
by extreme and pedantic classicism. There had not yet been any real
escape from the tradition which assigned the crown of scholarship to
whatever author drew most largely upon the resources of the Chinese
language and learning. The example set by the Imperial court, and
still set by it, did not tend to correct this style. The sovereign,
whether speaking by rescript or by ordinance, never addressed the bulk
of his subjects. His words were taken from sources so classical as to
be intelligible to only the highly educated minority. The newspapers
sacrificed their audience to their erudition and preferred classicism
to circulation. Their columns were thus a sealed book to the whole of
the lower middle classes and to the entire female population. The
_Yomiuri Shimbun (Buy and Read News)_ was the first to break away from
this pernicious fashion. Established in 1875, it adopted a style
midway between the classical and the colloquial, and it appended the
syllabic characters to each ideograph, so that its columns became
intelligible to every reader of ordinary education. It was followed by
the _Yeiri Shimbun (Pictorial Newspaper)_, the first to insert
illustrations and to publish _feuilleton_ romances. Both of these
journals devoted space to social news, a radical departure from the
austere restrictions observed by their aristocratic contemporaries.

Era of Political Parties.

The year 1881 saw the nation divided into political parties and within
measured distance of constitutional government. Thenceforth the great
majority of the newspapers and periodicals ranged themselves under the
flag of this or that party. An era of embittered polemics ensued. The
journals, while fighting continuously against each other's principles,
agreed in attacking the ministry, and the latter found it necessary to
establish organs of its own which preached the German system of state
autocracy. Editors seemed to be incapable of rising above the dead
level of political strife, and their utterances were not relieved even
by a semblance of fairness. Readers turned away in disgust, and
journal after journal passed out of existence. The situation was saved
by a newspaper which from the outset of its career obeyed the best
canons of journalism. Born in 1882, the _Jiji Shimpo (Times)_ enjoyed
the immense advantage of having its policy controlled by one of the
greatest thinkers of modern Japan, Fukuzawa Yukichi. Its basic
principle was liberty of the individual, liberty of the family and
liberty of the nation; it was always found on the side of broad-minded
justice, and it derived its materials from economic, social and
scientific sources. Other newspapers of greatly improved character
followed the _Jiji Shimpo_, especially notable among them being the
_Kokumin Shimbun_.

Commercial Journalism.

In the meanwhile Osaka, always pioneer in matters of commercial
enterprise, had set the example of applying the force of capital to
journalistic development. Tokyo journals were all on a literary or
political basis, but the _Osaka Asahi Shimbun (Osaka Rising Sun News)_
was purely a business undertaking. Its proprietor, Maruyama Ryuhei,
spared no expense to obtain news from all quarters of the world, and
for the first time the Japanese public learned what stores of
information may be found in the columns of a really enterprising
journal. Very soon the Asahi had a keen competitor in the _Osaka
Mainichi Shimbun_ (_Osaka Daily News_) and these papers ultimately
crushed all rivals in Osaka. In 1888 Maruyama established another
_Asahi_ in Tokyo, and thither he was quickly followed by his Osaka
rival, which in Tokyo took the name of _Mainichi Dempo_ (_Daily
Telegraph_). These two newspapers now stand alone as purveyors of
copious telegraphic news, and in the next rank, not greatly lower,
comes the _Jiji Shimpo_.

With the opening of the diet in 1890, politics again obtruded
themselves into newspaper columns, but as practical living issues now
occupied attention, readers were no longer wearied by the abstract
homilies of former days. Moreover, freedom of the press was at length
secured. Already (1887) the government had voluntarily made a great
step in advance by divesting itself of the right to imprison or fine
editors by executive order. But it reserved the power of suppressing
or suspending a newspaper, and against that reservation a majority of
the lower house voted, session after session, only to see the bill
rejected by the peers, who shared the government's opinion that to
grant a larger measure of liberty would certainly encourage licence.
Not until 1897 was this opposition fully overcome. A new law, passed
by both houses and confirmed by the emperor, took from the executive
all power over journals, except in cases of lèse majesté, and nothing
now remains of the former arbitrary system except that any periodical
having a political complexion is required to deposit security varying
from 175 to 1000 yen. The result has falsified all sinister
forebodings. A much more moderate tone pervades the writings of the
press since restrictions were entirely removed, and although there are
now 1775 journals and periodicals published throughout the empire,
with a total annual circulation of some 700 million copies,
intemperance of language, such as in former times would have provoked
official interference, is practically unknown to-day. Moreover, the
best Japanese editors have caught with remarkable aptitude the spirit
of modern journalism. But a few years ago they used to compile
laborious essays, in which the inspiration was drawn from Occidental
textbooks, and the alien character of the source was hidden under a
veneer of Chinese aphorisms. To-day they write terse, succinct,
closely-reasoned articles, seldom diffuse, often witty; and generally
free from extravagance of thought or diction. Incidentally they are
hastening the assimilation of the written and the spoken languages
(_genbun itchi_) which may possibly prelude a still greater reform,
abolition of the ideographic script. Yet, with few exceptions, the
profession of journalism is not remunerative. Very low rates of
subscription, and almost prohibitory charges for advertising, are
chiefly to blame.[1] The vicissitudes of the enterprise may be
gathered from the fact that, whereas 2767 journals and periodicals
were started between 1889 and 1894 (inclusive), no less than 2465
ceased publishing. The largest circulation recorded in 1908 was about
150,000 copies daily, and the honour of attaining that exceptional
figure belonged to the _Osaka Asahi Shimbun_. (F. By.)

IV.--JAPANESE ART

Pictorial Art.

_Painting and Engraving._--In Japanese art the impressionist element is predominant. Pictures, as the term is understood in Europe, can scarcely be said to have existed at any time in Japan. The artist did not depict emotion: he depicted the subjects that produce emotion. Therefore he took his motives from nature rather than from history; or, if he borrowed from the latter, what he selected was a scene, not the pains or the passions of its actors. Moreover, he never exhausted his subject, but was always careful to leave a wide margin for the imagination of the spectator. This latter consideration sometimes impelled him to represent things which, to European eyes, seem trivial or insignificant, but which really convey hints of deep significance. In short, Japanese pictures are like Japanese poetry: they do not supply thought but only awaken it. Often their methods show conventionalism, but it is conventionalism so perfect and free in its allurements that nature seems to suggest both the motive and the treatment. Thus though neither botanically nor ornithologically correct, their flowers and their birds show a truth to nature, and a habit of minute observation in the artist, which cannot be too much admired. Every blade of grass, each leaf and feather, has been the object of loving and patient study.

It has been rashly assumed by some writers that the Japanese do not study from nature. All their work is an emphatic protest against this supposition. It can in fact be shown conclusively that the Japanese have derived all their fundamental ideas of symmetry, so different from ours, from a close study of nature and her processes in the attainment of endless variety. A special feature of their art is that, while often closely and minutely imitating natural objects, such as birds, flowers and fishes, the especial objects of their predilection and study, they frequently combine the facts of external nature with a conventional mode of treatment better suited to their purpose. During the long apprenticeship that educated Japanese serve to acquire the power of writing with the brush the complicated characters borrowed from Chinese, they unconsciously cultivate the habit of minute observation and the power of accurate imitation, and with these the delicacy of touch and freedom of hand which only long practice can give. A hair's-breadth deviation in a line is fatal to good calligraphy, both among the Chinese and the Japanese. When they come to use the pencil in drawing, they already possess accuracy of eye and free command of the brush. Whether a Japanese art-worker sets himself to copy what he sees before him or to give play to his fancy in combining what he has seen with some ideal in his mind, the result shows perfect facility of execution and easy grace in all the lines.

The beauties of the human form never appealed to the Japanese artist. Associating the nude solely with the performance of menial tasks, he deemed it worse than a solecism to transfer such subjects to his canvas, and thus a wide field of motive was closed to him. On the other hand, the draped figure received admirable treatment from his brush, and the naturalistic school of the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries reached a high level of skill in depicting men, women and children in motion. Nor has there ever been a Japanese Landseer. Sosen's monkeys and badgers constitute the one possible exception, but the horses, oxen, deer, tigers, dogs, bears, foxes and even cats of the best Japanese artists were ill drawn and badly modelled. In the field of landscape the Japanese painter fully reached the eminence on which his great Chinese masters stood. He did not obey the laws of linear perspective as they are formulated in the Occident, nor did he show cast shadows, but his aerial perspective and his foreshortening left nothing to be desired. It has been suggested that he deliberately eschewed chiaroscuro because his pictures, destined invariably to hang in an alcove, were required to be equally effective from every aspect and had also to form part of a decorative scheme. But the more credible explanation is that he merely followed Chinese example in this matter, as he did also in linear perspective, accepting without question the curious canon that lines converge as they approach the spectator.

Decorative Art.

It is in the realm of decorative art that the world has chiefly benefited by contact with Japan. Her influence is second only to that of Greece. Most Japanese decorative designs consist of natural objects, treated sometimes in a more or less conventional manner, but always distinguished by delicacy of touch, graceful freedom of conception and delightfully harmonized tints. Perhaps the admiration which the Japanese artist has won in this field is due not more to his wealth of fancy and skilful adaptation of natural forms, than to his individuality of character in treating his subjects. There is complete absence of uniformity and monotony. Repetition without any variation is abhorrent to every Japanese. He will not tolerate the stagnation and tedium of a dull uniformity by mechanical reproduction. His temperament will not let him endure the labour of always producing the same pattern. Hence the repetition of two articles exactly like each other, and, generally, the division of any space into equal parts are instinctively avoided, as nature avoids the production of any two plants, or even any two leaves of the same tree, which in all points shall be exactly alike.

(_These illustrations are reproduced by permission of the Kokka
Company, Tokyo, Japan._)

FIG. 1.--MANJUSRI, DEITY OF WISDOM. Kosé School (13th century).

FIG. 2.--WATERFALL OF NACHI. Attributed to Kanaoka (9th century).

FIG. 3.--PORTRAIT OF THE PRIEST DAITO-KOKUSHI. Tosa School (14th
century).]

FIG. 4.--PRIESTS CARICATURED BY ANIMALS. By Toba Sojo (1053-1140).

FIG. 5.--ESCAPE OF THE EMPEROR DISGUISED AS A WOMAN. Scene from the
Civil War. By Keion (13th century).]

The application of this principle in the same free spirit is the secret of much of the originality and the excellence of the decorative art of Japan. Her artists and artisans alike aim at symmetry, not by an equal division of parts, as we do, but rather by a certain balance of corresponding parts, each different from the other, and not numerically even, with an effect of variety and freedom from formality. They seek it, in fact, as nature attains the same end. If we take for instance the skins of animals that are striped or spotted, we have the best possible illustration of nature's methods in this direction. Examining the tiger or the leopard, in all the beauty of their symmetrical adornment, we do not see in any one example an exact repetition of the same stripes or spots on each side of the mesial line. They seem to be alike, and yet are all different. The line of division along the spine, it will be observed, is not perfectly continuous or defined, but in part suggested; and each radiating stripe on either side is full of variety in size, direction, and to some extent in colour and depth of shade. Thus nature works, and so, following in her footsteps, works the Japanese artist. The same law prevailing in all nature's creation, in the plumage of birds, the painting of butterflies' wings, the marking of shells, and in all the infinite variety and beauty of the floral kingdom, the lesson is constantly renewed to the observant eye. Among flowers the orchids, with all their fantastic extravagance and mimic imitations of birds and insects, are especially prolific in examples of symmetrical effects without any repetition of similar parts or divisions into even numbers.

The orchids may be taken as offering fair types of the Japanese artist's ideal in all art work. And thus, close student of nature's processes, methods, and effects as the Japanese art workman is, he ever seeks to produce humble replicas from his only art master. Thus he proceeds in all his decorative work, avoiding studiously the exact repetition of any lines and spaces, and all diametrical divisions, or, if these be forced upon him by the shape of the object, exercising the utmost ingenuity to disguise the fact, and train away the eye from observing the weak point, as nature does in like circumstances. Thus if a lacquer box in the form of a parallelogram is the object, Japanese artists will not divide it in two equal parts by a perpendicular line, but by a diagonal, as offering a more pleasing line and division. If the box be round, they will seek to lead the eye away from the naked regularity of the circle by a pattern distracting attention, as, for example, by a zigzag breaking the circular outline, and supported by other ornaments. A similar feeling is shown by them as colourists, and, though sometimes eccentric and daring in their contrasts, they never produce discords in their chromatic scale. They have undoubtedly a fine sense of colour, and a similarly delicate and subtle feeling for harmonious blending of brilliant and sober hues. As a rule they prefer a quiet and refined style, using full but low-toned colours. They know the value of bright colours, however, and how best to utilize them, both supporting and contrasting them with their secondaries and complementaries.

Division into Periods.

The development of Japanese painting may be divided into the following six periods, each signalized by a wave of progress. (1) From the middle of the 6th to the middle of the 9th century: the naturalization of Chinese and Chino-Buddhist art. (2) From the middle of the 9th to the middle of the 15th century: the establishment of great native schools under Kosé no Kanaoka and his descendants and followers, the pure Chinese school gradually falling into neglect. (3) From the middle of the 15th to the latter part of the 17th century: the revival of the Chinese style. (4) From the latter part of the 17th to the latter part of the 18th century: the establishment of a popular school. (5) From the latter part of the 18th to the latter part of the 19th century: the foundation of a naturalistic school, and the first introduction of European influence into Japanese painting; the acme and decline of the popular school. (6) From about 1875 to the present time: a period of transition.

First Period.

Tradition refers to the advent of a Chinese artist named Nanriu, invited to Japan in the 5th century as a painter of the Imperial banners, but of the labours and influence of this man and of his descendants we have no record. The real beginnings of the study of painting and sculpture in their higher branches must be dated from the introduction of Buddhism from China in the middle of the 6th century, and for three centuries after this event there is evidence that the practice of the arts was carried on mainly by or under the instruction of Korean and Chinese immigrants.

The paintings of which we have any mention were almost limited to
representations of Buddhist masters of the Tang dynasty (618-905),
notably Wu Tao-zu (8th century), of whose genius romantic stories are
related. The oldest existing work of this period is a mural decoration
in the hall of the temple of Horyu-ji, Nara, attributed to a Korean
priest named Donchô, who lived in Japan in the 6th century; and this
painting, in spite of the destructive effects of time and exposure,
shows traces of the same power of line, colour and composition that
stamps the best of the later examples of Buddhist art.

Second Period.

The native artist who crested the first great wave of Japanese painting was a court noble named Kosé no Kanaoka, living under the patronage of the emperor Seiwa (850-859) and his successors down to about the end of the 9th century, in the midst of a period of peace and culture. Of his own work few, if any, examples have reached us; and those attributed with more or less probability to his hand are all representations of Buddhist divinities, showing a somewhat formal and conventional design, with a masterly calligraphic touch and perfect harmony of colouring. Tradition credits him with an especial genius for the delineation of animals and landscape, and commemorates his skill by a curious anecdote of a painted horse which left its frame to ravage the fields, and was reduced to pictorial stability only by the sacrifice of its eyes. He left a line of descendants extending far into the 15th century, all famous for Buddhist pictures, and some engaged in establishing a native style, the _Wa-gwa-ryu_.

At the end of the 9th century there were two exotic styles of painting, Chinese and Buddhist, and the beginning of a native style founded upon these. All three were practised by the same artists, and it was not until a later period that each became the badge of a school.

Chinese Style.

The Chinese style (_Kara-ryu_), the fundamental essence of all
Japanese art, has a fairly distinct history, dating back to the
introduction of Buddhism into China (A.D. 62), and it is said to have
been chiefly from the works of Wu Tao-zu, the master of the 8th
century, that Kanaoka drew his inspiration. This early Chinese manner,
which lasted in the parent country down to the end of the 13th
century, was characterized by a virile grace of line, a grave dignity
of composition, striking simplicity of technique, and a strong but
incomplete naturalistic ideal. The colouring, harmonious but subdued
in tone, held a place altogether secondary to that of the outline, and
was frequently omitted altogether, even in the most famous works.
Shadows and reflections were ignored, and perspective, approximately
correct for landscape distances, was isometrical for near objects,
while the introduction of a symbolic sun or moon lent the sole
distinction between a day and a night scene. The art was one of
imperfect evolution, but for thirteen centuries it was the only living
pictorial art in the world, and the Chinese deserve the honour of
having created landscape painting. The materials used were
water-colours, brushes, usually of deer-hair, and a surface of unsized
paper, translucid silk or wooden panel. The chief motives were
landscapes of a peculiarly wild and romantic type, animal life, trees
and flowers, and figure compositions drawn from Chinese and Buddhist
history and Taoist legend; and these, together with the grand aims and
strange shortcomings of its principles and the limited range of its
methods, were adopted almost without change by Japan. It was a noble
art, but unfortunately the rivalry of the Buddhist and later native
styles permitted it to fall into comparative neglect, and it was left
for a few of the faithful, the most famous of whom was a priest of the
14th century named Kawo, to preserve it from inanition till the great
Chinese renaissance that lent its stamp to the next period. The
reputed founder of Japanese caricature may also be added to the list.
He was a priest named Kakuyu, but better known as the abbot of Toba,
who lived in the 12th century. An accomplished artist in the Chinese
manner, he amused himself and his friends by burlesque sketches,
marked by a grace and humour that his imitators never equalled. Later,
the motive of the Toba pictures, as such caricatures were called,
tended to degenerate, and the elegant figures of Kakuyu were replaced
by scrawls that often substituted indecency and ugliness for art and
wit. Some of the old masters of the Yamato school were, however,
admirable in their rendering of the burlesque, and in modern times
Kyosai, the last of the Hokusai school, outdid all his predecessors in
the riotous originality of his weird and comic fancies. A new phase of
the art now lives in the pages of the newspaper press.

Buddhist Style.

The Buddhist style was probably even more ancient than the Chinese,
for the scheme of colouring distinctive of the Buddhist picture was
almost certainly of Indian origin; brilliant and decorative, and
heightened by a lavish use of gold, it was essential to the effect of
a picture destined for the dim light of the Buddhist temple. The style
was applied only to the representations of sacred personages and
scenes, and as the traditional forms and attributes of the Brahmanic
and Buddhist divinities were mutable only within narrow limits, the
subjects seldom afforded scope for originality of design or
observation of nature. The principal Buddhist painters down to the
14th century were members of the Kosé, Takuma and Kasuga lines, the
first descended from Kanaoka, the second from Takuma Taméuji (ending
10th century), and the third from Fujiwara no Motomitsu (11th
century). The last and greatest master of the school was a priest
named Meicho, better known as Cho Densu, the Japanese Fra Angelico. It
is to him that Japan owes the possession of some of the most stately
and most original works in her art, sublime in conception, line and
colour, and deeply instinct with the religious spirit. He died in
1427, at the age of seventy-six, in the seclusion of the temple where
he had passed the whole of his days.

Native Style.

The native style, _Yamato_ or _Wa-gwa-ryu_, was an adaptation of
Chinese art canons to motives drawn from the court life, poetry and
stories of old Japan. It was undoubtedly practised by the Kose line,
and perhaps by their predecessors, but it did not take shape as a
school until the beginning of the 11th century under Fujiwara no
Motomitsu, who was a pupil of Kose no Kinmochi; it then became known
as _Yamato-ryu_, a title which two centuries later was changed to that
of _Tosa_, on the occasion of one of its masters, Fujiwara no
Tsunetaka, assuming that appellation as a family name. The Yamato-Tosa
artists painted in all styles, but that which was the speciality of
the school, to be found in nearly all the historical rolls bequeathed
to us by their leaders, was a lightly-touched outline filled in with
flat and bright body-colours, in which verdigris-green played a great
part. The originality of the motive did not prevent the adoption of
all the Chinese conventions, and of some new ones of the artist's own.
The curious expedient of spiriting away the roof of any building of
which the artist wished to show the interior was one of the most
remarkable of these. Amongst the foremost names of the school are
those of Montomitsu (11th century), Nobuzane (13th century), Tsunetaka
(13th century), Mitsunobu (15th and 16th centuries), his son
Mitsushige, and Mitsuoki (17th century). The struggle between the
Taira and Minamoto clans for the power that had long been practically
abandoned by the Imperial line lasted through the 11th and the greater
part of the 12th centuries, ending only with the rise of Yoritomo to
the shogunate in 1185. These internecine disturbances had been
unfavourable to any new departure in art, except in matters
appertaining to arms and armour, and the strife between two puppet
emperors for a shadow of authority in the 14th century brought another
distracting element. It was not until the triumph of the northern
dynasty was achieved through the prowess of an interested champion of
the Ashikaga clan that the culture of ancient Japan revived. The
palace of the Ashikaga shoguns then replaced the Imperial court as the
centre of patronage of art and literature and established a new era in
art history.

Third Period.

Towards the close of the Ashikaga shogunate painting entered on a new phase. Talented representatives of the Kose, Takuma and Tosa lines maintained the reputation of the native and Buddhist schools, and the long-neglected Chinese school was destined to undergo a vigorous revival. The initiation of the new movement is attributed to a priest named Jôsetsu, who lived in the early part of the 15th century, and of whom little else is known. It is not even certain whether he was of Chinese or Japanese birth; he is, however, believed by some authorities to have been the teacher of three great artists--Shubun, Sesshu and Kano Masanobu--who became the leaders of three schools: Shubun, that of the pure Chinese art of the Sung and Yuan dynasties (10th and 13th centuries); Sesshu, that of a modified school bearing his name; and Masanobu, of the great Kano school, which has reached to the present day. The qualities of the new Chinese schools were essentially those of the older dynasties: breadth, simplicity, a daringly calligraphic play of brush that strongly recalled the accomplishments of the famous scribes, and a colouring that varied between sparing washes of flat local tints and a strength and brilliancy of decorative effort that rivalled even that of the Buddhist pictures. The motives remained almost identical with those of the Chinese masters, and so imbued with the foreign spirit were many of the Japanese disciples that it is said they found it difficult to avoid introducing Chinese accessories even into pictures of native scenery.

Sesshu (1421-1507) was a priest who visited China and studied painting
there for several years, at length returning in 1469, disappointed
with the living Chinese artists, and resolved to strike out a style of
his own, based upon that of the old masters. He was the boldest and
most original of Japanese landscape artists, leaving powerful and
poetic records of the scenery of his own land as well as that of
China, and trusting more to the sure and sweeping stroke of the brush
than to colour. Shubun was an artist of little less power, but he
followed more closely his exemplars, the Chinese masters of the 12th
and 13th centuries; while Kano Masanobu (1424-1520), trained in the
love of Chinese art, departed little from the canons he had learned
from Josetsu or Oguri Sotan. It was left to his more famous son,
Motonobu, to establish the school which bears the family name. Kano
Motonobu (1477-1559) was one of the greatest Japanese painters, an
eclectic of genius, who excelled in every style and every branch of
his art. His variety was inexhaustible, and he remains to this day a
model whom the most distinguished artists are proud to imitate. The
names of the celebrated members of this long line are too many to
quote here, but the most accomplished of his descendants was Tanyu,
who died in 1674, at the age of seventy-three. The close of this long
period brought a new style of art, that of the Korin school. Ogata
Korin (1653-1716) is claimed by both the Tosa and Kano schools, but
his work bears more resemblance to that of an erratic offshoot of the
Kano line named Sotatsu than to the typical work of the academies. He
was an artist of eccentric originality, who achieved wonders in bold
decorative effects in spite of a studied contempt for detail. As a
lacquer painter he left a strong mark upon the work of his
contemporaries and successors. His brother and pupil, Kenzan, adopted
his style, and left a reputation as a decorator of pottery hardly less
brilliant than Korin's in that of lacquer; and a later follower,
Hoitsu (1762-1828), greatly excelled the master in delicacy and
refinement, although inferior to him in vigour and invention. Down to
the end of this era painting was entirely in the hands of a patrician
caste--courtiers, priests, feudal nobles and their military retainers,
all men of high education and gentle birth, living in a polished
circle. It was practised more as a phase of aesthetic culture than
with any utilitarian views. It was a labour of loving service,
untouched by the spirit of material gain, conferring upon the work of
the older masters a dignity and poetic feeling which we vainly seek in
much of the later work. Unhappily, but almost inevitably, over-culture
led to a gradual falling-off from the old virility. The strength of
Meicho, Sesshu, Motonobu and Tanyu gave place to a more or less
slavish imitation of the old Japanese painters and their Chinese
exemplars, till the heirs to the splendid traditions of the great
masters preserved little more than their conventions and shortcomings.
It was time for a new departure, but there seemed to be no sufficient
strength left within the charmed circle of the orthodox schools, and
the new movement was fated to come from the masses, whose voice had
hitherto been silent in the art world.

Fourth Period: Popular School.

A new era in art began in the latter half of the 17th century with the establishment of a popular school under an embroiderer's draughtsman named Hishigawa Moronobu (c. 1646-1713). Perhaps no great change is ever entirely a novelty. The old painters of the Yamato-Tosa line had frequently shown something of the daily life around them, and one of the later scions of the school, named Iwasa Matahei, had even made a specialty of this class of motive; but so little is known of Matahei and his work that even his period is a matter of dispute, and the few pictures attributed to his pencil are open to question on grounds of authenticity. He probably worked some two generations before the time of Moronobu, but there is no reason to believe that his labours had any material share in determining the creation and trend of the new school.

Moronobu was a consummate artist, with all the delicacy and
calligraphic force of the best of the Tosa masters, whom he
undoubtedly strove to emulate in style; and his pictures are not only
the most beautiful but also the most trustworthy records of the life
of his time. It was not to his paintings, however, that he owed his
greatest influence, but to the powerful impulse he gave to the
illustration of books and broadsides by wood-engravings. It is true
that illustrated books were known as early as 1608, if not before, but
they were few and unattractive, and did little to inaugurate the great
stream of _ehon_, or picture books, that were to take so large a share
in the education of his own class. It is to Moronobu that Japan owes
the popularization of artistic wood-engravings, for nothing before his
series of xylographic albums approached his best work in strength and
beauty, and nothing since has surpassed it. Later there came abundant
aid to the cause of popular art, partly from pupils of the Kano and
Tosa schools, but mainly from the artisan class. Most of these artists
were designers for books and broadsides by calling, painters only on
occasion, but a few of them did nothing for the engravers. Throughout
the whole of this period, embracing about a hundred years, there still
continued to work, altogether apart from the men who were making the
success of popular art, a large number of able painters of the Kano,
Tosa and Chinese schools, who multiplied pictures that had every merit
except that of originality. These men, living in the past, paid little
attention to the great popular movement, which seemed to be quite
outside their social and artistic sphere and scarcely worthy of
cultured criticism. It was in the middle of the 18th century that the
decorative, but relatively feeble, Chinese art of the later Ming
period found favour in Japan and a clever exponent in a painter named
Ryurikyo. It must be regarded as a sad decadence from the old Chinese
ideals, which was further hastened, from about 1765, by the popularity
of the southern Chinese style. This was a weak affectation that found
its chief votaries amongst literary men ambitious of an easily earned
artistic reputation. The principal Japanese supporter of this school
was Taigado (1722-1775), but the volume of copies of his sketches,
_Taigado sansui juseki_, published about 1870, is one of the least
attractive albums ever printed in Japan.

Fifth Period: Naturalistic School.

The fifth period was introduced by a movement as momentous as that which stamped its predecessor--the foundation of a naturalistic school under a group of men outside the orthodox academical circles. The naturalistic principle was by no means a new one; some of the old Chinese masters were naturalistic in a broad and noble manner, and their Japanese followers could be admirably and minutely accurate when they pleased; but too many of the latter were content to construct their pictures out of fragmentary reminiscences of ancient Chinese masterpieces, not presuming to see a rock, a tree, an ox, or a human figure, except through Chinese spectacles. It was a farmer's son named Okyo, trained in his youth to paint in the Chinese manner, who was first bold enough to adopt as a canon what his predecessors had only admitted under rare exceptions, the principle of an exact imitation of nature. Unfortunately, even he had not all the courage of his creed, and while he would paint a bird or a fish with perfect realism, he no more dared to trust his eyes in larger motives than did the most devout follower of Shubun or Motonobu. He was essentially a painter of the classical schools, with the speciality of elaborate reproduction of detail in certain sections of animal life, but fortunately this partial concession to truth, emphasized as it was by a rare sense of beauty, did large service.

Okyo rose into notice about 1775, and a number of pupils flocked to
his studio in Shijo Street, Kioto (whence Shijo school). Amongst these
the most famous were Goshun (1742-1811), who is sometimes regarded as
one of the founders of the school; Sosen (1757-1821), an animal
painter of remarkable power, but especially celebrated for pictures of
monkey life; Shuho, the younger brother of the last, also an animal
painter; Rosetsu (1755-1799), the best landscape painter of his
school; Keibun, a younger brother of Goshun, and some later followers
of scarcely less fame, notably Hoyen, a pupil of Keibun; Tessan, an
adopted son of Sosen; Ippo and Yosai (1788-1878), well known for a
remarkable set of volumes, the _Zenken kojitsu_, containing a long
series of portraits of ancient Japanese celebrities. Ozui and Ojyu,
the sons of Okyo, painted in the style of their father, but failed to
attain great eminence. Lastly, amongst the associates of the Shijo
master was the celebrated Ganku (1798-1837), who developed a special
style of his own, and is sometimes regarded as the founder of a
distinct school. He was, however, greatly influenced by Okyo's
example, and his sons, Gantai, Ganryo, and Gantoku or Renzan, drifted
into a manner almost indistinguishable from that of the Shijo school.

European School.

It remains only to allude to the European school, if school it can be called, founded by Kokan and Denkichi, two contemporaries of Okyo. These artists, at first educated in one of the native schools, obtained from a Hollander in Nagasaki some training in the methods and principles of European painting, and left a few oil paintings in which the laws of light and shade and perspective were correctly observed. They were not, however, of sufficient capacity to render the adopted manner more than a subject of curiosity, except to a few followers who have reached down to the present generation. It is possible that the essays in perspective found in the pictures of Hokusai, Hiroshige, and some of the popular artists of the 19th century, were suggested by Kokan's drawings and writings.

Sixth Period.

The sixth period began about 1875, when an Italian artist was engaged by the government as a professor of painting in the Engineering College at Tokyo. Since that time some distinguished European artists have visited Japan, and several Japanese students have made a pilgrimage to Europe to see for themselves what lessons may be gained from Western art. These students, confronted by a strong reaction in favour of pure Japanese art, have fought manfully to win public sympathy, and though their success is not yet crowned, it is not impossible that an Occidental school may ultimately be established. Thus far the great obstacle has been that pictures painted in accordance with Western canons are not suited to Japanese interiors and do not appeal to the taste of the most renowned Japanese connoisseurs. Somewhat more successful has been an attempt--inaugurated by Hashimoto Gaho and Kawabata Gyokusho--to combine the art of the West with that of Japan by adding to the latter the chiaroscuro and the linear perspective of the former. If the disciples of this school could shake off the Sesshu tradition of strong outlines and adopt the Kano Motonobu revelation of modelling by mass only, their work would stand on a high place. But they, too, receive little encouragement. The tendency of the time is conservative in art matters.

A series of magnificent publications has popularized art and its best
products in a manner such as could never have been anticipated. The
_Kokka_, a monthly magazine richly and beautifully illustrated and
edited by Japanese students, has reached its 223rd number; the _Shimbi
Daikan_, a colossal album containing chromoxylographic facsimiles of
celebrated examples in every branch of art, has been completed in 20
volumes; the masterpieces of Korin and Motonobu have been reproduced
in similar albums; the masterpieces of the _Ukiyo-e_ are in process of
publication, and it seems certain that the Japanese nation will
ultimately be educated to such a knowledge of its own art as will make
for permanent appreciation. Meanwhile the intrepid group of painters
in oil plod along unflinchingly, having formed themselves into an
association (the _hakuba-kai_) which gives periodical exhibitions, and
there are, in Tokyo and Kioto, well-organized and flourishing art
schools which receive a substantial measure of state aid, as well as a
private academy founded by Okakura with a band of seceders from the
hybrid fashions of the Gaho system. Altogether the nation seems to be
growing more and more convinced that its art future should not wander
far from the lines of the past. (W. An.; F. By.)

Engraving.

Although a little engraving on copper has been practised in Japan of late years, it is of no artistic value, and the only branch of the art which calls for recognition is the cutting of wood-blocks for use either with colours or without. This, however, is of supreme importance, and as its technique differs in most respects from the European practice, it demands a somewhat detailed description.

The wood used is generally that of the cherry-tree, _sakura_, which
has a grain of peculiar evenness and hardness. It is worked plankwise
to a surface parallel with the grain, and not across it. A design is
drawn by the artist, to whom the whole credit of the production
generally belongs, with a brush on thin paper, which is then pasted
face downwards on the block. The engraver, who is very rarely the
designer, then cuts the outlines into the block with a knife,
afterwards removing the superfluous wood with gouges and chisels.
Great skill is shown in this operation, which achieves perhaps the
finest facsimile reproduction of drawings ever known without the aid
of photographic processes. A peculiar but highly artistic device is
that of gradually rounding off the surfaces where necessary, in order
to obtain in printing a soft and graduated mass of colour which does
not terminate too abruptly. In printing with colours a separate block
is made in this manner for each tint, the first containing as a rule
the mere lines of the composition, and the others providing for the
masses of tint to be applied. In all printing the paper is laid on the
upper surface of the block, and the impression rubbed off with a
circular pad, composed of twisted cord within a covering of paper
cloth and bamboo-leaf, and called the _baren_. In colour-printing, the
colours, which are much the same as those in use in Europe, are mixed,
with rice-paste as a medium, on the block for each operation, and the
power of regulating the result given by this custom to an intelligent
craftsman (who, again, is neither the artist nor the engraver) was
productive in the best period of very beautiful and artistic effects,
such as could never have been obtained by any mechanical device. A
wonderfully accurate register, or successive superposition of each
block, is got mainly by the skill of the printer, who is assisted only
by a mark defining one corner and another mark showing the opposite
side limit.

The origins of this method of colour-printing are obscure. It has been practised to some extent in China and Korea, but there is no evidence of its antiquity in these countries. It appears to be one of the few indigenous arts of Japan. But before accepting this conclusion as final, one must not lose sight of the fact that the so-called chiaroscuro engraving was at the height of its use in Italy at the same time that embassies from the Christians in Japan visited Rome, and that it is thus possible that the suggestion at least may have been derived from Europe. The fact that no traces of it have been discovered in Japan would be easily accounted for, when it is remembered that the examples taken home would almost certainly have been religious pictures, would have been preserved in well-known and accessible places, and would thus have been entirely destroyed in the terrible and minute extermination of Christianity by Hideyoshi at the beginning of the 17th century. Japanese tradition ascribes the invention of colour-printing to Idzumiya Gonshiro, who, about the end of the 17th century, first made use of a second block to apply a tint of red (_beni_) to his prints. Sir Ernest Satow states more definitely that "Sakakibara attributes its origin to the year 1695, when portraits of the actor Ichikawa Danjiuro, coloured by this process, were sold in the streets of Yedo for five cash apiece." The credit of the invention is also given to Torii Kiyonobu, who worked at about this time, and, indeed, is said to have made the prints above mentioned. But authentic examples of his work now remaining, printed in three colours, seem to show a technique too complete for an origin quite so recent. However, he is the first artist of importance to have produced the broadsheets--for many years chiefly portraits of notable actors, historical characters and famous courtesans--which are the leading and characteristic use to which the art was applied. Pupils, the chief of whom were Kiyomasa, Kiyotsume, Kiyomitsu, Kiyonaga and Kiyomine, carried on his tradition until the end of the 18th century, the three earlier using but few colours, while the works of the two last named show a technical mastery of all the capabilities of the process.

The next artist of importance is Suzuki Harunobu (worked c.
1760-1780), to whom the Japanese sometimes ascribe the invention of
the process, probably on the grounds of an improvement in his
technique, and the fact that he seems to have been one of the first of
the colour-print makers to attain great popularity. Katsukawa Shunsho
(d. 1792) must next be mentioned, not only for the beauty of his own
work, but because he was the first master of Hokusai; then Yeishi
(worked c. 1781-1800), the founder of the Hosoda school; Utamaro
(1754-1806), whose prints of beautiful women were collected by
Dutchmen while he was still alive, and have had in our own day a vogue
greater, perhaps, than those of any other of his fellows; and Toyokuni
I. (1768-1825), who especially devoted himself to broadsheet portraits
of actors and dramatic scenes. The greatest of all the artists of the
popular school was, however, Hokusai (1760-1849). His most famous
series of broadsheets is the _Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji_
(1823-1829), which, in spite of the conventional title, includes at
least forty-six. His work is catalogued in detail by E. de Goncourt.
At the beginning of the 19th century the process was technically at
its greatest height, and in the hands of the great landscape artist,
Hiroshige I., as well as the pupils of Toyokuni I.--Kunisada and
Kuniyoshi--and those of Hokusai, it at first kept up an excellent
level. But an undue increase in the number of blocks used, combined
with the inferiority of the imported colours and carelessness or loss
of skill in printing, brought about a rapid decline soon after 1840.
This continued until the old traditions were well-nigh exhausted, but
since 1880 there has been a distinct revival. The prints of the
present day are cut with great skill, and the designs are excellent,
though both these branches seem to lack the vigour of conception and
breadth of execution of the older masters. The colours now used are
almost invariably of cheap German origin, and though they have a
certain prettiness--ephemeral, it is to be feared--they again can not
compare with the old native productions. Among workers in this style,
Yoshitoshi (d. c. 1898) was perhaps the best. Living artists in 1908
included Toshihide, Miyagawa Shuntei, Yoshiu Chikanobu--one of the
elder generation--Tomisuka Yeishu, Toshikata and Gekko. Formerly the
colour-print artist was of mean extraction and low social position,
but he now has some recognition at the hands of the professors of more
esteemed branches of art. This change is doubtless due in part to
Occidental appreciation of the products of his art, which were
formerly held in little honour by his own countrymen, the place
assigned to them being scarcely higher than that accorded to magazine
illustrations in Europe and America. But it is also largely due to his
displays of unsurpassed skill in preparing xylographs for the
beautiful art publications issued by the _Shimbi Shoin_ and the
_Kokka_ company. These xylographs prove that the Japanese art-artisan
of the present day was not surpassed by the greatest of his
predecessors in this line. (E. F. S.; F. By.)

Book Illustration.