Chapter II: Part 2

"Listen! To-day I cannot possibly weep any more. But to-morrow let us go together to the Long Bridge of Seta, taking with us some wine and some fish. We can rest for a time on the bridge; and while we are drinking the wine and eating the fish, I shall gaze in the direction of the Dragon-Palace, and try, by thinking of the happy days that I spent there, to make myself feel homesick--so that I can weep."

Totaro joyfully assented.

Next morning the two, taking plenty of wine and fish with them, went to the Seta bridge, and rested there, and feasted. After having drunk a great deal of wine, the Samebito began to gaze in the direction of the Dragon-Kingdom, and to think about the past. And gradually, under the softening influence of the wine, the memory of happier days filled his heart with sorrow, and the pain of homesickness came upon him, so that he could weep profusely. And the great red tears that he shed fell upon the bridge in a shower of rubies; and Totaro gathered them as they fell, and put them into a casket, and counted them until he had counted the full number of ten thousand. Then he uttered a shout of joy.

Almost in the same moment, from far away over the lake, a delightful sound of music was heard; and there appeared in the offing, slowly rising from the waters, like some fabric of cloud, a palace of the color of the setting sun.

At once the Samebito sprang upon the parapet of the bridge, and looked, and laughed for joy. Then, turning to Totaro, he said:--

"There must have been a general amnesty proclaimed in the Dragon-Realm; the Kings are calling me. So now I must bid you farewell. I am happy to have had one chance of befriending you in return for your goodness to me."

With these words he leaped from the bridge; and no man ever saw him again. But Totaro presented the casket of red jewels to the parents of Tamana, and so obtained her in marriage.

JAPANESE STUDIES

[Decoration]

... Life ere long
Came on me in the public ways, and bent
Eyes deeper than of old: Death met I too,
And saw the dawn glow through.
--GEORGE MEREDITH

Semi
(CICADAE)

[Decoration]

Koe ni mina
Naki-shimote ya--
Semi no kara!
--_Japanese Love-Song_

The voice having been all consumed by crying, there remains only
the shell of the _semi!_

I

A CELEBRATED Chinese scholar, known in Japanese literature as Riku-Un, wrote the following quaint account of the Five Virtues of the Cicada:--

"I.--The Cicada has upon its head certain figures or signs.[26]
These represent its [written] characters, style, literature.

[26] The curious markings on the head of one variety of
Japanese _semi_ are believed to be characters which
are names of souls.

"II.--It eats nothing belonging to earth, and drinks only dew.
This proves its cleanliness, purity, propriety.

"III.--It always appears at a certain fixed time. This proves
its fidelity, sincerity, truthfulness.

"IV.--It will not accept wheat or rice. This proves its probity,
uprightness, honesty.

"V.--It does not make for itself any nest to live in. This
proves its frugality, thrift, economy."

* * * * *

We might compare this with the beautiful address of Anacreon to the cicada, written twenty-four hundred years ago: on more than one point the Greek poet and the Chinese sage are in perfect accord:--

"_We deem thee happy, O Cicada, because, having drunk, like a
king, only a little dew, thou dost chirrup on the tops of trees.
For all things whatsoever that thou seest in the fields are
thine, and whatsoever the seasons bring forth. Yet art thou
the friend of the tillers of the land,--from no one harmfully
taking aught. By mortals thou art held in honor as the pleasant
harbinger of summer; and the Muses love thee. Phoebus himself
loves thee, and has given thee a shrill song. And old age does
not consume thee. O thou gifted one,--earth-born, song-loving,
free from pain, having flesh without blood,--thou art nearly
equal to the Gods!_"[27]

[27] In this and other citations from the Greek
anthology, I have depended upon Burges'
translation.

And we must certainly go back to the old Greek literature in order to find a poetry comparable to that of the Japanese on the subject of musical insects. Perhaps of Greek verses on the cricket, the most beautiful are the lines of Meleager: "_O cricket, the soother of slumber ... weaving the thread of a voice that causes love to wander away!_" ... There are Japanese poems scarcely less delicate in sentiment on the chirruping of night-crickets; and Meleager's promise to reward the little singer with gifts of fresh leek, and with "drops of dew cut up small," sounds strangely Japanese. Then the poem attributed to Anyte, about the little girl Myro making a tomb for her pet cicada and cricket, and weeping because Hades, "hard to be persuaded," had taken her playthings away, represents an experience familiar to Japanese child-life. I suppose that little Myro--(how freshly her tears still glisten, after seven and twenty centuries!)--prepared that "common tomb" for her pets much as the little maid of Nippon would do to-day, putting a small stone on top to serve for a monument. But the wiser Japanese Myro would repeat over the grave a certain Buddhist prayer.

It is especially in their poems upon the cicada that we find the old Greeks confessing their love of insect-melody: witness the lines in the Anthology about the tettix caught in a spider's snare, and "making lament in the thin fetters" until freed by the poet;--and the verses by Leonidas of Tarentum picturing the "unpaid minstrel to wayfaring men" as "sitting upon lofty trees, warmed with the great heat of summer, sipping the dew that is like woman's milk;"--and the dainty fragment of Meleager, beginning: "_Thou vocal tettix, drunk with drops of dew, sitting with thy serrated limbs upon the tops of petals, thou givest out the melody of the lyre from thy dusky skin_." ... Or take the charming address of Evenus to a nightingale:--

"_Thou Attic maiden, honey-fed, hast chirping seized a chirping
cicada, and bearest it to thy unfledged young,--thou, a twitterer,
the twitterer,--thou, the winged, the well-winged,--thou, a
stranger, the stranger,--thou, a summer-child, the summer-child!
Wilt thou not quickly cast it from thee? For it is not right, it
is not just, that those engaged in song should perish by the
mouths of those engaged in song._"

On the other hand, we find Japanese poets much more inclined to praise the voices of night-crickets than those of semi. There are countless poems about semi, but very few which commend their singing. Of course the semi are very different from the cicadae known to the Greeks. Some varieties are truly musical; but the majority are astonishingly noisy,--so noisy that their stridulation is considered one of the great afflictions of summer. Therefore it were vain to seek among the myriads of Japanese verses on semi for anything comparable to the lines of Evenus above quoted; indeed, the only Japanese poem that I could find on the subject of a cicada caught by a bird, was the following:--

Ana kanashi!
Tobi ni toraruru
Semi no koe.
--RANSETSU.

Ah! how piteous the cry of the semi seized by the kite!

Or "caught by a boy" the poet might equally well have observed,--this being a much more frequent cause of the pitiful cry. The lament of Nicias for the tettix would serve as the elegy of many a semi:--

"_No more shall I delight myself by sending out a sound from my
quick-moving wings, because I have fallen into the savage hand
of a boy, who seized me unexpectedly, as I was sitting under the
green leaves._"

Here I may remark that Japanese children usually capture semi by means of a long slender bamboo tipped with bird-lime (_mochi_). The sound made by some kinds of semi when caught is really pitiful,--quite as pitiful as the twitter of a terrified bird. One finds it difficult to persuade oneself that the noise is not a _voice_ of anguish, in the human sense of the word "voice," but the production of a specialized exterior membrane. Recently, on hearing a captured semi thus scream, I became convinced in quite a new way that the stridulatory apparatus of certain insects must not be thought of as a kind of musical instrument, but as an organ of speech, and that its utterances are as intimately associated with simple forms of emotion, as are the notes of a bird,--the extraordinary difference being that the insect has its vocal chords _outside_. But the insect-world is altogether a world of goblins and fairies: creatures with organs of which we cannot discover the use, and senses of which we cannot imagine the nature;--creatures with myriads of eyes, or with eyes in their backs, or with eyes moving about at the ends of trunks and horns;--creatures with ears in their legs and bellies, or with brains in their waists! If some of them happen to have voices outside of their bodies instead of inside, the fact ought not to surprise anybody.

* * * * *

I have not yet succeeded in finding any Japanese verses alluding to the stridulatory apparatus of semi,--though I think it probable that such verses exist. Certainly the Japanese have been for centuries familiar with the peculiarities of their own singing insects. But I should not now presume to say that their poets are incorrect in speaking of the "voices" of crickets and of cicadae. The old Greek poets who actually describe insects as producing music with their wings and feet, nevertheless speak of the "voices," the "songs," and the "chirruping" of such creatures,--just as the Japanese poets do. For example, Meleager thus addresses the cricket:

"_O thou that art with shrill wings the self-formed imitation of
the lyre, chirrup me something pleasant while beating your vocal
wings with your feet!_ ..."

II

BEFORE speaking further of the poetical literature of semi, I must attempt a few remarks about the semi themselves. But the reader need not expect anything entomological. Excepting, perhaps, the butterflies, the insects of Japan are still little known to men of science; and all that I can say about semi has been learned from inquiry, from personal observation, and from old Japanese books of an interesting but totally unscientific kind. Not only do the authors contradict each other as to the names and characteristics of the best-known semi; they attach the word semi to names of insects which are not cicadae.

The following enumeration of semi is certainly incomplete; but I believe that it includes the better-known varieties and the best melodists. I must ask the reader, however, to bear in mind that the time of the appearance of certain semi differs in different parts of Japan; that the same kind of semi may be called by different names in different provinces; and that these notes have been written in Tokyo.

I.--HARU-ZEMI.

VARIOUS small semi appear in the spring. But the first of the big semi to make itself heard is the _haru-zemi_ ("spring-semi"), also called _uma-zemi_ ("horse-semi"), _kuma-zemi_ ("bear-semi"), and other names. It makes a shrill wheezing sound,--_ji-i-i-i-i-iiiiiiii_,--beginning low, and gradually rising to a pitch of painful intensity. No other cicada is so noisy as the _haru-zemi;_ but the life of the creature appears to end with the season. Probably this is the semi referred to in an old Japanese poem:--

Hatsu-semi ya!
"Kore wa atsui" to
Iu hi yori.
--TAIMU.

The day after the first day on which we exclaim, "Oh, how hot
it is!" the first semi begins to cry.

II.--"SHINNE-SHINNE."

THE _shinne-shinne_--also called _yama-zemi_, or "mountain-semi"; _kuma-zemi_, or "bear-semi"; and _o-semi_, or "great semi"--begins to sing as early as May. It is a very large insect. The upper part of the body is almost black, and the belly a silvery-white; the head has curious red markings. The name _shinne-shinne_ is derived from the note of the creature, which resembles a quick continual repetition of the syllables _shinne_. About Kyoto this semi is common: it is rarely heard in Tokyo.

[My first opportunity to examine an _o-semi_ was in Shidzuoka. Its utterance is much more complex than the Japanese onomatope implies; I should liken it to the noise of a sewing-machine in full operation. There is a double sound: you hear not only the succession of sharp metallic clickings, but also, below these, a slower series of dull clanking tones. The stridulatory organs are light green, looking almost like a pair of tiny green leaves attached to the thorax.]

III.--ABURAZEMI.

THE _aburazemi_, or "oil-semi," makes its appearance early in the summer. I am told that it owes its name to the fact that its shrilling resembles the sound of oil or grease frying in a pan. Some writers say that the shrilling resembles the sound of the syllables _gacharin-gacharin_; but others compare it to the noise of water boiling. The _aburazemi_ begins to chant about sunrise; then a great soft hissing seems to ascend from all the trees. At such an hour, when the foliage of woods and gardens still sparkles with dew, might have been composed the following verse,--the only one in my collection relating to the _aburazemi_:--

Ano koe de
Tsuyu ga inochi ka?--
Aburazemi!

Speaking with that voice, has the dew taken life?--Only the
_aburazemi_!

IV.--MUGI-KARI-ZEMI.

THE _mugi-kari-zemi_, or "barley-harvest semi," also called _goshiki-zemi_, or "five-colored semi," appears early in the summer. It makes two distinct sounds in different keys, resembling the syllables _shi-in, shin--chi-i, chi-i_.

V.--HIGURASHI, OR "KANA-KANA."

THIS insect, whose name signifies "day-darkening," is the most remarkable of all the Japanese cicadae. It is not the finest singer among them; but even as a melodist it ranks second only to the _tsuku-tsuku-boshi_. It is the special minstrel of twilight, singing only at dawn and sunset; whereas most of the other semi make their music only in the full blaze of day, pausing even when rain-clouds obscure the sun. In Tokyo the _higurashi_ usually appears about the end of June, or the beginning of July. Its wonderful cry,--_kana-kana-kana-kana-kana_,--beginning always in a very high clear key, and slowly descending, is almost exactly like the sound of a good hand-bell, very quickly rung. It is not a clashing sound, as of violent ringing; it is quick, steady, and of surprising sonority. I believe that a single _higurashi_ can be plainly heard a quarter of a mile away; yet, as the old Japanese poet Yayu observed, "no matter how many _higurashi_ be singing together, we never find them noisy." Though powerful and penetrating as a resonance of metal, the _higurashi's_ call is musical even to the degree of sweetness; and there is a peculiar melancholy in it that accords with the hour of gloaming. But the most astonishing fact in regard to the cry of the _higurashi_ is the individual quality characterizing the note of each insect. No two _higurashi_ sing precisely in the same tone. If you hear a dozen of them singing at once, you will find that the timbre of each voice is recognizably different from every other. Certain notes ring like silver, others vibrate like bronze; and, besides varieties of timbre suggesting bells of various weight and composition, there are even differences in tone, that suggest different _forms_ of bell.

I have already said that the name _higurashi_ means "day-darkening,"--in the sense of twilight, gloaming, dusk; and there are many Japanese verses containing plays on the word,--the poets affecting to believe, as in the following example, that the crying of the insect hastens the coming of darkness:--

Higurashi ya!
Suteteoitemo
Kururu hi wo.

O Higurashi!--even if you let it alone, day darkens fast
enough!

This, intended to express a melancholy mood, may seem to the Western reader far-fetched. But another little poem--referring to the effect of the sound upon the conscience of an idler--will be appreciated by any one accustomed to hear the _higurashi_. I may observe, in this connection, that the first clear evening cry of the insect is quite as startling as the sudden ringing of a bell:--

Higurashi ya!
Kyo no ketai wo
Omou-toki.
--RIKEI.

Already, O Higurashi, your call announces the evening!
Alas, for the passing day, with its duties left undone!

VI.--"MINMIN"-ZEMI.

THE _minmin-zemi_ begins to sing in the Period of Greatest Heat. It is called "_min-min_" because its note is thought to resemble the syllable "_min_" repeated over and over again,--slowly at first, and very loudly; then more and more quickly and softly, till the utterance dies away in a sort of buzz: "_min--min--min-min-min-minminmin-dzzzzzzz_." The sound is plaintive, and not unpleasing. It is often compared to the sound of the voice of a priest chanting the _sutras_.

1, _"Tsuku-tsuku-Boshi_," also called "_Kutsu-kutsu-Boshi_," etc.
(_Cosmopsaltria Opalifera?_)

2, _Tsurigane-Zemi_.

3, _The Phantom_.]

VII.--TSUKU-TSUKU-BOSHI.

ON the day immediately following the Festival of the Dead, by the old Japanese calendar[28] (which is incomparably more exact than our Western calendar in regard to nature-changes and manifestations), begins to sing the _tsuku-tsuku-boshi_. This creature may be said to sing like a bird. It is also called _kutsu-kutsu-boshi_, _choko-choko-uisu_, _tsuku-tsuku-hoshi_, _tsuku-tsuku-oishi_,--all onomatopoetic appellations. The sounds of its song have been imitated in different ways by various writers. In Izumo the common version is,--

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu,
Tsuku-tsuku-uisu,
Tsuku-tsuku-uisu:--
Ui-osu
Ui-osu
Ui-osu
Ui-os-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-su.

[28] That is to say, upon the 16th day of the 7th month.

Another version runs,--

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu,
Tsuku-tsuku-uisu,
Tsuku-tsuku-uisu:--
Chi-i yara!
Chi-i yara!
Chi-i yara!
Chi-i, chi, chi, chi, chi, chiii.

But some say that the sound is _Tsukushi-koishi_. There is a legend that in old times a man of Tsukushi (the ancient name of Kyushu) fell sick and died while far away from home, and that the ghost of him became an autumn cicada, which cries unceasingly, _Tsukushi-koishi!--Tsukushi-koishi!_ ("I long for Tsukushi!--I want to see Tsukushi!")

* * * * *

It is a curious fact that the earlier semi have the harshest and simplest notes. The musical semi do not appear until summer; and the _tsuku-tsuku-boshi_, having the most complex and melodious utterance of all, is one of the latest to mature.

VIII.--TSURIGANE-SEMI.[29]

THE _tsurigane-semi_ is an autumn cicada. The word _tsurigane_ means a suspended bell,--especially the big bell of a Buddhist temple. I am somewhat puzzled by the name; for the insect's music really suggests the tones of a Japanese harp, or _koto_--as good authorities declare. Perhaps the appellation refers not to the boom of the bell, but to those deep, sweet hummings which follow after the peal, wave upon wave.

[29] This semi appears to be chiefly known in Shikoku.

III

JAPANESE poems on semi are usually very brief; and my collection chiefly consists of _hokku_,--compositions of seventeen syllables. Most of these _hokku_ relate to the sound made by the semi,--or, rather, to the sensation which the sound produced within the poet's mind. The names attached to the following examples are nearly all names of old-time poets,--not the real names, of course, but the _go_, or literary names by which artists and men of letters are usually known.

* * * * *

Yokoi Yayu, a Japanese poet of the eighteenth century, celebrated as a composer of _hokku_, has left us this naive record of the feelings with which he heard the chirruping of cicadae in summer and in autumn:--

"In the sultry period, feeling oppressed by the greatness of the
heat, I made this verse:--

"Semi atsushi
Matsu kirabaya to
Omou-made.

[The chirruping of the semi aggravates the heat until I wish
to cut down the pine-tree on which it sings.]

"But the days passed quickly; and later, when I heard the crying
of the semi grow fainter and fainter in the time of the autumn
winds, I began to feel compassion for them, and I made this
second verse:--

"Shini-nokore
Hitotsu bakari wa
Aki no semi."

[Now there survives
But a single one
Of the semi of autumn!]

Lovers of Pierre Loti (the world's greatest prose-writer) may remember in _Madame Chrysantheme_ a delightful passage about a Japanese house,--describing the old dry woodwork as impregnated with sonority by the shrilling crickets of a hundred summers.[30] There is a Japanese poem containing a fancy not altogether dissimilar:--

Matsu no ki ni
Shimikomu gotoshi
Semi no koe.

Into the wood of the pine-tree
Seems to soak
The voice of the semi.

[30] Speaking of his own attempt to make a drawing of the
interior, he observes: "Il manque a ce logis dessine son
air frele et sa sonorite de violon sec. Dans les traits de
crayon qui representent les boiseries, il n'y a pas la
precision minutieuse avec laquelle elles sont ouvragees, ni
leur antiquite extreme, ni leur proprete parfaite, _ni les
vibrations de cigales qu' elles semblent avoir emmagasinees
pendant des centaines d'etes dans leurs fibres
dessechees_."

A very large number of Japanese poems about semi describe the noise of the creatures as an affliction. To fully sympathize with the complaints of the poets, one must have heard certain varieties of Japanese cicadae in full midsummer chorus; but even by readers without experience of the clamor, the following verses will probably be found suggestive:--

Ware hitori
Atsui yo nari,--
Semi no koe!
--BUNSO.

Meseems that only I,--I alone among mortals,--
Ever suffered such heat!--oh, the noise of the semi!

Ushiro kara
Tsukamu yo nari,--
Semi no koe.
--JOFU.

Oh, the noise of the semi!--a pain of invisible seizure,--
Clutched in an enemy's grasp,--caught by the hair from behind!

Yama no Kami no
Mimi no yamai ka?--
Semi no koe!
--TEIKOKU.

What ails the divinity's ears?--how can the God of the Mountain
Suffer such noise to exist?--oh, the tumult of semi!

Soko no nai
Atsusa ya kumo ni
Semi no koe!
--SAREN.

Fathomless deepens the heat: the ceaseless shrilling of semi
Mounts, like a hissing of fire, up to the motionless clouds.

Mizu karete,
Semi wo fudan-no
Taki no koe.
--GEN-U.

Water never a drop: the chorus of semi, incessant,
Mocks the tumultuous hiss,--the rush and foaming of rapids.

Kageroishi
Kumo mata satte,
Semi no koe.
--KITO.

Gone, the shadowing clouds!--again the shrilling of semi
Rises and slowly swells,--ever increasing the heat!

Daita ki wa,
Ha mo ugokasazu,--
Semi no koe!
--KAFU.

Somewhere fast to the bark he clung; but I cannot see him:
He stirs not even a leaf--oh! the noise of that semi!

Tonari kara
Kono ki nikumu ya!
Semi no koe.
--GYUKAKU.

All because of the Semi that sit and shrill on its branches--
Oh! how this tree of mine is hated now by my neighbor!

This reminds one of Yayu. We find another poet compassionating a tree frequented by semi:--

Kaze wa mina
Semi ni suwarete,
Hito-ki kana!
--CHOSUI.

Alas! poor solitary tree!--pitiful now your lot,--every breath
of air having been sucked up by the semi!

Sometimes the noise of the semi is described as a moving force:--

Semi no koe
Ki-gi ni ugoite,
Kaze mo nashi!
--SOYO.

Every tree in the wood quivers with clamor of semi:
Motion only of noise--never a breath of wind!

Take ni kite,
Yuki yori omoshi
Semi no koe.
--TOGETSU.

More heavy than winter-snow the voices of perching semi:
See how the bamboos bend under the weight of their song![31]

[31] Japanese artists have found many a charming
inspiration in the spectacle of bamboos bending
under the weight of snow clinging to their tops.

Morogoe ni
Yama ya ugokasu,
Ki-gi no semi.

All shrilling together, the multitudinous semi
Make, with their ceaseless clamor, even the mountain move.

Kusunoki mo
Ugoku yo nari,
Semi no koe.
--BAIJAKU.

Even the camphor-tree seems to quake with the clamor of semi!

Sometimes the sound is compared to the noise of boiling water:--

Hizakari wa
Nietatsu semi no
Hayashi kana!

In the hour of heaviest heat, how simmers the forest with semi!

Niete iru
Mizu bakari nari--
Semi no koe.
--TAIMU.

Simmers all the air with sibilation of semi,
Ceaseless, wearying sense,--a sound of perpetual boiling.

Other poets complain especially of the multitude of the noise-makers and the ubiquity of the noise:--

Aritake no
Ki ni hibiki-keri
Semi no koe.

How many soever the trees, in each rings the voice of the semi.

Matsubara wo
Ichi ri wa kitari,
Semi no koe.
--SENGA.

Alone I walked for miles into the wood of pine-trees:
Always the one same semi shrilled its call in my ears.

Occasionally the subject is treated with comic exaggeration:--

Naite iru
Ki yori mo futoshi
Semi no koe.

The voice of the semi is bigger [_thicker_] than the tree on
which it sings.

Sugi takashi
Saredomo semi no
Amaru koe!

High though the cedar be, the voice of the semi is incomparably
higher!

Koe nagaki
Semi wa mijikaki
Inochi kana!

How long, alas! the voice and how short the life of the semi!

Some poets celebrate the negative form of pleasure following upon the cessation of the sound:--

Semi ni dete,
Hotaru ni modoru,--
Suzumi kana!
--YAYU.

When the semi cease their noise, and the fireflies come
out--oh! how refreshing the hour!

Semi no tatsu,
Ato suzushisa yo!
Matsu no koe.
--BAIJAKU.

When the semi cease their storm, oh, how refreshing the
stillness!
Gratefully then resounds the musical speech of the pines.

[Here I may mention, by the way, that there is a little Japanese song about the _matsu no koe_, in which the onomatope "zazanza" very well represents the deep humming of the wind in the pine-needles:--

Zazanza!
Hama-matsu no oto wa,--
Zazanza,
Zazanza!
Zazanza!
The sound of the pines of the shore,--
Zazanza!
Zazanza!]

There are poets, however, who declare that the feeling produced by the noise of semi depends altogether upon the nervous condition of the listener:--

Mori no semi
Suzushiki koe ya,
Atsuki koe.
--OTSUSHU.

Sometimes sultry the sound; sometimes, again, refreshing:
The chant of the forest-semi accords with the hearer's mood.

Suzushisa mo
Atsusa mo semi no
Tokoro kana!
--FUHAKU.

Sometimes we think it cool,--the resting-place of the
semi;--sometimes we think it hot (it is all a matter of fancy).

Suzushii to
Omoeba, suzushi
Semi no koe.
--GINKO.

If we think it is cool, then the voice of the semi is cool
(that is, the fancy changes the feeling).

In view of the many complaints of Japanese poets about the noisiness of semi, the reader may be surprised to learn that out of semi-skins there used to be made in both China and Japan--perhaps upon homoeopathic principles--a medicine for the cure of ear-ache!

* * * * *

One poem, nevertheless, proves that semi-music has its admirers:--

Omoshiroi zo ya,
Waga-ko no koe wa
Takai mori-ki no
Semi no koe![32]

Sweet to the ear is the voice of one's own child as the voice
of a semi perched on a tall forest tree.

[32] There is another version of this poem:--

Omoshiroi zo ya,
Waga-ko no naku wa
Sembu-segaki no
Kyo yori mo!

"More sweetly sounds the crying of one's own child
than even the chanting of the sutra in the service
for the dead." The Buddhist service alluded to is
held to be particularly beautiful.

But such admiration is rare. More frequently the semi is represented as crying for its nightly repast of dew:--

Semi wo kike,--
Ichi-nichi naite
Yoru no tsuyu.
--KIKAKU.

Hear the semi shrill! So, from earliest dawning,
All the summer day he cries for the dew of night.

Yu-tsuyu no
Kuchi ni iru made
Naku semi ka?
--BAISHITSU.

Will the semi continue to cry till the night-dew fills its
mouth?

Occasionally the semi is mentioned in love-songs of which the following is a fair specimen. It belongs to that class of ditties commonly sung by geisha. Merely as a conceit, I think it pretty, in spite of the factitious pathos; but to Japanese taste it is decidedly vulgar. The allusion to beating implies jealousy:--

Nushi ni tatakare,
Washa matsu no semi
Sugaritsuki-tsuki
Naku bakari!

Beaten by my jealous lover,--
Like the semi on the pine-tree
I can only cry and cling!

And indeed the following tiny picture is a truer bit of work, according to Japanese art-principles (I do not know the author's name):--

Semi hitotsu
Matsu no yu-hi wo
Kakae-keri.

Lo! on the topmost pine, a solitary cicada
Vainly attempts to clasp one last red beam of sun.

IV

PHILOSOPHICAL verses do not form a numerous class of Japanese poems upon semi; but they possess an interest altogether exotic. As the metamorphosis of the butterfly supplied to old Greek thought an emblem of the soul's ascension, so the natural history of the cicada has furnished Buddhism with similitudes and parables for the teaching of doctrine.

Man sheds his body only as the semi sheds its skin. But each reincarnation obscures the memory of the previous one: we remember our former existence no more than the semi remembers the shell from which it has emerged. Often a semi may be found in the act of singing beside its cast-off skin; therefore a poet has written:--

Ware to waga
Kara ya tomuro--
Semi no koe.
--YAYU.

Methinks that semi sits and sings by his former body,--
Chanting the funeral service over his own dead self.

This cast-off skin, or simulacrum,--clinging to bole or branch as in life, and seeming still to stare with great glazed eyes,--has suggested many things both to profane and to religious poets. In love-songs it is often likened to a body consumed by passionate longing. In Buddhist poetry it becomes a symbol of earthly pomp,--the hollow show of human greatness:--

Yo no naka yo
Kaeru no hadaka,
Semi no kinu!

Naked as frogs and weak we enter this life of trouble;
Shedding our pomps we pass: so semi quit their skins.

But sometimes the poet compares the winged and shrilling semi to a human ghost, and the broken shell to the body left behind:--

Tamashii wa
Ukiyo ni naite,
Semi no kara.

Here the forsaken shell: above me the voice of the creature
Shrills like the cry of a Soul quitting this world of pain.

Then the great sun-quickened tumult of the cicadae--landstorm of summer life foredoomed so soon to pass away--is likened by preacher and poet to the tumult of human desire. Even as the semi rise from earth, and climb to warmth and light, and clamor, and presently again return to dust and silence,--so rise and clamor and pass the generations of men:--

Yagate shinu
Keshiki wa miezu,
Semi no koe.
--BASHO.

Never an intimation in all those voices of semi
How quickly the hush will come,--how speedily all must die.

I wonder whether the thought in this little verse does not interpret something of that summer melancholy which comes to us out of nature's solitudes with the plaint of insect-voices. Unconsciously those millions of millions of tiny beings are preaching the ancient wisdom of the East,--the perpetual Sutra of Impermanency.

Yet how few of our modern poets have given heed to the voices of insects!

Perhaps it is only to minds inexorably haunted by the Riddle of Life that Nature can speak to-day, in those thin sweet trillings, as she spake of old to Solomon.

The Wisdom of the East hears all things. And he that obtains it will hear the speech of insects,--as Sigurd, tasting the Dragon's Heart, heard suddenly the talking of birds.

NOTE.--For the pictures of semi accompanying this paper, I am
indebted to a curious manuscript work in several volumes,
preserved in the Imperial Library at Uyeno. The work is
entitled _Chufu-Zusetsu_,--which might be freely rendered as
"Pictures and Descriptions of Insects,"--and is divided into
twelve books. The writer's name is unknown; but he must have
been an amiable and interesting person, to judge from the naive
preface which he wrote, apologizing for the labors of a
lifetime. "When I was young," he says, "I was very fond of
catching worms and insects, and making pictures of their
shapes,--so that these pictures have now become several hundred
in number." He believes that he has found a good reason for
studying insects: "Among the multitude of living creatures in
this world," he says, "those having large bodies are familiar:
we know very well their names, shapes, and virtues, and the
poisons which they possess. But there remain very many small
creatures whose natures are still unknown, notwithstanding the
fact that such little beings as insects and worms are able to
injure men and to destroy what has value. So I think that it is
very important for us to learn what insects or worms have
special virtues or poisons." It appears that he had sent to him
"from other countries" some kinds of insects "that eat the
leaves and shoots of trees;" but he could not "get their exact
names." For the names of domestic insects, he consulted many
Chinese and Japanese books, and has been "able to write the
names with the proper Chinese characters;" but he tells us that
he did not fail "to pick up also the names given to worms and
insects by old farmers and little boys." The preface is dated
thus:--"_Ansei Kanote, the third month--at a little cottage_"
[1856].

With the introduction of scientific studies the author of the
_Chufu-Zusetsu_ could no longer hope to attract attention. Yet
his very modest and very beautiful work was forgotten only a
moment. It is now a precious curiosity; and the old man's ghost
might to-day find some happiness in a visit to the Imperial
Library.

Japanese Female Names

[Decoration]

I

BY the Japanese a certain kind of girl is called a Rose-Girl,--_Bara-Musume_. Perhaps my reader will think of Tennyson's "queen-rose of the rosebud-garden of girls," and imagine some analogy between the Japanese and the English idea of femininity symbolized by the rose. But there is no analogy whatever. The _Bara-Musume_ is not so called because she is delicate and sweet, nor because she blushes, nor because she is rosy; indeed, a rosy face is not admired in Japan. No; she is compared to a rose chiefly for the reason that a rose has thorns. The man who tries to pull a Japanese rose is likely to hurt his fingers. The man who tries to win a _Bara-Musume_ is apt to hurt himself much more seriously,--even unto death. It were better, alone and unarmed, to meet a tiger than to invite the caress of a Rose-Girl.

Now the appellation of _Bara-Musume_--much more rational as a simile than many of our own floral comparisons--can seem strange only because it is not in accord with our poetical usages and emotional habits. It is one in a thousand possible examples of the fact that Japanese similes and metaphors are not of the sort that he who runs may read. And this fact is particularly well exemplified in the _yobina_, or personal names of Japanese women. Because a _yobina_ happens to be identical with the name of some tree, or bird, or flower, it does not follow that the personal appellation conveys to Japanese imagination ideas resembling those which the corresponding English word would convey, under like circumstances, to English imagination. Of the _yobina_ that seem to us especially beautiful in translation, only a small number are bestowed for aesthetic reasons. Nor is it correct to suppose, as many persons still do, that Japanese girls are usually named after flowers, or graceful shrubs, or other beautiful objects. AEsthetic appellations are in use; but the majority of _yobina_ are not aesthetic. Some years ago a young Japanese scholar published an interesting essay upon this subject. He had collected the personal names of about four hundred students of the Higher Normal School for Females,--girls from every part of the Empire; and he found on his list only between fifty and sixty names possessing aesthetic quality. But concerning even these he was careful to observe only that they "_caused_ an aesthetic sensation,"--not that they had been given for aesthetic reasons. Among them were such names as _Saki_ (Cape), _Mine_ (Peak), _Kishi_ (Beach), _Hama_ (Shore), _Kuni_ (Capital),--originally place-names;--_Tsuru_ (Stork), _Tazu_ (Ricefield Stork), and _Chizu_ (Thousand Storks);--also such appellations as _Yoshino_ (Fertile Field), _Orino_ (Weavers' Field), _Shirushi_ (Proof), and _Masago_ (Sand). Few of these could seem aesthetic to a Western mind; and probably no one of them was originally given for aesthetic reasons. Names containing the character for "Stork" are names having reference to longevity, not to beauty; and a large number of names with the termination "_no_" (field or plain) are names referring to moral qualities. I doubt whether even fifteen per cent of _yobina_ are really aesthetic. A very much larger proportion are names expressing moral or mental qualities. Tenderness, kindness, deftness, cleverness, are frequently represented by _yobina_; but appellations implying physical charm, or suggesting aesthetic ideas only, are comparatively uncommon. One reason for the fact may be that very aesthetic names are given to _geisha_ and to _joro_, and consequently vulgarized. But the chief reason certainly is that the domestic virtues still occupy in Japanese moral estimate a place not less important than that accorded to religious faith in the life of our own Middle Ages. Not in theory only, but in every-day practice, moral beauty is placed far above physical beauty; and girls are usually selected as wives, not for their good looks, but for their domestic qualities. Among the middle classes a very aesthetic name would not be considered in the best taste; among the poorer classes, it would scarcely be thought respectable. Ladies of rank, on the other hand, are privileged to bear very poetical names; yet the majority of the aristocratic yobina also are moral rather than aesthetic.

* * * * *

But the first great difficulty in the way of a study of _yobina_ is the difficulty of translating them. A knowledge of spoken Japanese can help you very little indeed. A knowledge of Chinese also is indispensable. The meaning of a name written in _kana_ only,--in the Japanese characters,--cannot be, in most cases, even guessed at. The Chinese characters of the name can alone explain it. The Japanese essayist, already referred to, found himself obliged to throw out no less than thirty-six names out of a list of two hundred and thirteen, simply because these thirty-six, having been recorded only in _kana_, could not be interpreted. _Kana_ give only the pronunciation; and the pronunciation of a woman's name explains nothing in a majority of cases. Transliterated into Romaji, a _yobina_ may signify two, three, or even half-a-dozen different things. One of the names thrown out of the list was _Banka_. _Banka_ might signify "Mint" (the plant), which would be a pretty name; but it might also mean "Evening-haze." _Yuka_, another rejected name, might be an abbreviation of _Yukabutsu_, "precious"; but it might just as well mean "a floor." _Nochi_, a third example, might signify "future"; yet it could also mean "a descendant," and various other things. My reader will be able to find many other homonyms in the lists of names given further on. _Ai_ in Romaji, for instance, may signify either "love" or "indigo-blue";--_Cho_, "a butterfly," or "superior," or "long";--_Ei_, either "sagacious" or "blooming";--_Kei_, either "rapture" or "reverence";--_Sato_, either "native home" or "sugar";--_Toshi_, either "year" or "arrow-head";--_Taka_, "tall," "honorable," or "falcon." The chief, and, for the present, insuperable obstacle to the use of Roman letters in writing Japanese, is the prodigious number of homonyms in the language. You need only glance into any good Japanese-English dictionary to understand the gravity of this obstacle. Not to multiply examples, I shall merely observe that there are nineteen words spelled _cho_; twenty-one spelled _ki_; twenty-five spelled _to_ or _to_; and no less than forty-nine spelled _ko_ or _ko_.

* * * * *

Yet, as I have already suggested, the real signification of a woman's name cannot be ascertained even from a literal translation made with the help of the Chinese characters. Such a name, for instance, as _Kagami_ (Mirror) really signifies the Pure-Minded, and this not in the Occidental, but in the Confucian sense of the term. _Ume_ (Plum-blossom) is a name referring to wifely devotion and virtue. _Matsu_ (Pine) does not refer, as an appellation, to the beauty of the tree, but to the fact that its evergreen foliage is the emblem of vigorous age. The name _Take_ (Bamboo) is given to a child only because the bamboo has been for centuries a symbol of good-fortune. The name _Sen_ (Wood-fairy) sounds charmingly to Western fancy; yet it expresses nothing more than the parents' hope of long life for their daughter and her offspring,--wood-fairies being supposed to live for thousands of years.... Again, many names are of so strange a sort that it is impossible to discover their meaning without questioning either the bearer or the giver; and sometimes all inquiry proves vain, because the original meaning has been long forgotten.

Before attempting to go further into the subject, I shall here offer a translation of the Tokyo essayist's list of names,--rearranged in alphabetical order, without honorific prefixes or suffixes. Although some classes of common names are not represented, the list will serve to show the character of many still popular _yobina_, and also to illustrate several of the facts to which I have already called attention.

SELECTED NAMES OF STUDENTS AND GRADUATES
OF THE HIGHER NORMAL SCHOOL FOR
FEMALES (1880-1895):--

Number of
students
so named.
_Ai_ ("Indigo,"--the color) 1
_Ai_ ("Love") 1
_Akasuke_ ("The Bright Helper") 1
_Asa_ ("Morning") 1
_Asa_ ("Shallow")[33] 2

[33] Probably a place-name originally.

_Au_ ("Meeting") 2
_Bun_ ("Composition"--in the literary sense)[34] 1

[34] Might we not quaintly say, "A Fair Writing"?

_Chika_ ("Near")[35] 5

[35] Probably in the sense of "near and dear"--but not
certainly so.

_Chitose_ ("A Thousand Years") 1
_Chiyo_ ("A Thousand Generations") 1
_Chizu_ ("Thousand Storks") 1
_Cho_ ("Butterfly") 1
_Cho_ ("Superior") 2
_Ei_ ("Clever") 1
_Ei_ ("Blooming") 2
_Etsu_ ("Delight") 1
_Fude_ ("Writing-brush") 1
_Fuji_ ("Fuji,"--the mountain) 1
_Fuji_ ("Wistaria-flower") 2
_Fuki_ ("Fuki,"--name of a plant, _Nardosmia
Japonica_) 1
_Fuku_ ("Good-fortune") 2
_Fumi_ ("Letter")[36] 5

[36] _Fumi_ signifies here a letter written by a woman
only--a letter written according to the rules of
feminine epistolary style.

_Fumino_ ("Letter-field") 1
_Fusa_ ("Tassel") 3
_Gin_ ("Silver") 2
_Hama_ ("Shore") 3
_Hana_ ("Blossom") 3
_Harue_ ("Spring-time Bay") 1
_Hatsu_ ("The First-born") 2
_Hide_ ("Excellent") 4
_Hide_ ("Fruitful") 2
_Hisano_ ("Long Plain") 2
_Ichi_ ("Market") 4
_Iku_ ("Nourishing") 3
_Ine_ ("Springing Rice") 3
_Ishi_ ("Stone") 1
_Ito_ ("Thread") 4
_Iwa_ ("Rock") 1
_Jun_ ("The Obedient")[37] 1

[37] _Jun suru_ means to be obedient unto death. The
word _jun_ has a much stronger signification than
that which attaches to our word "obedience" in
these modern times.

_Kagami_ ("Mirror") 3
_Kama_ ("Sickle") 1
_Kame_ ("Tortoise") 2
_Kameyo_ ("Generations-of-the-Tortoise")[38] 1

[38] The tortoise is supposed to live for a thousand
years.

_Kan_ ("The Forbearing")[39] 11

[39] Abbreviation of _kannin_, "forbearance,"
"self-control," etc. The name might equally well
be translated "Patience."

_Kana_ ("Character"--in the sense of written
character)[40] 2

[40] _Kana_ signifies the Japanese syllabary,--the
characters with which the language is written. The
reader may imagine, if he wishes, that the name
signifies the Alpha and Omega of all feminine
charm; but I confess that I have not been able to
find any satisfactory explanation of it.

_Kane_ ("Bronze") 3
_Katsu_ ("Victorious") 2
_Kazashi_ ("Hair-pin,"--or any ornament worn
in the hair) 1
_Kazu_ ("Number,"--i.e., "great number") 1
_Kei_ ("The Respectful") 3
_Ken_ ("Humility") 1
_Kiku_ ("Chrysanthemum") 6
_Kikue_ ("Chrysanthemum-branch") 1
_Kikuno_ ("Chrysanthemum-field") 1
_Kimi_ ("Sovereign") 1
_Kin_ ("Gold") 4
_Kinu_ ("Cloth-of-Silk") 1
_Kishi_ ("Beach") 2
_Kiyo_ ("Happy Generations") 1
_Kiyo_ ("Pure") 5
_Ko_ ("Chime,"--the sound of a bell) 1
_Ko_ ("Filial Piety") 11
_Ko_ ("The Fine") 1
_Koma_ ("Filly") 1
_Kome_ ("Cleaned Rice") 1
_Koto_ ("Koto,"--the Japanese harp) 4
_Kuma_ ("Bear") 1
_Kumi_ ("Braid") 1
_Kuni_ ("Capital,"--chief city) 1
_Kuni_ ("Province") 3
_Kura_ ("Treasure-house") 1
_Kurano_ ("Storehouse-field") 1
_Kuri_ ("Chestnut") 1
_Kuwa_ ("Mulberry-tree") 1
_Masa_ ("Straightforward,"--upright) 3
_Masago_ ("Sand") 1
_Masu_ ("Increase") 3
_Masue_ ("Branch-of-Increase") 1
_Matsu_ ("Pine") 2
_Matsue_ ("Pine-branch") 1
_Michi_ ("The Way,"--doctrine) 4
_Mie_ ("Triple Branch") 1
_Mikie_ ("Main-branch") 1
_Mine_ ("Peak") 2
_Mitsu_ ("Light") 5
_Mitsue_ ("Shining Branch") 1
_Morie_ ("Service-Bay")[41] 1

[41] The word "service" here refers especially to
attendance at meal-time,--to the serving of rice,
etc.

_Naka_ ("The Midmost") 4
_Nami_ ("Wave") 1
_Nobu_ ("Fidelity") 6
_Nobu_ ("The Prolonger")[42] 1

[42] Perhaps in the hopeful meaning of extending the
family-line; but more probably in the signification
that a daughter's care prolongs the life of her
parents, or of her husband's parents.

_Nobue_ ("Lengthening-branch") 1
_Nui_ ("Tapestry,"--or, Embroidery) 1
_Orino_ ("Weaving-Field") 1
_Raku_ ("Pleasure") 3
_Ren_ ("The Arranger") 1
_Riku_ ("Land,"--ground) 1
_Roku_ ("Emolument") 1
_Ryo_ ("Dragon") 1
_Ryu_ ("Lofty") 3
_Sada_ ("The Chaste") 8
_Saki_ ("Cape,"--promontory) 1
_Saku_ ("Composition")[43] 3

[43] Abbreviation of _sakubun_, a literary composition.

_Sato_ ("Home,"--native place) 2
_Sawa_ ("Marsh") 1
_Sei_ ("Force") 1
_Seki_ ("Barrier,"--city-gate, toll-gate, etc.). 3
_Sen_ ("Fairy")[44] 3

[44] As a matter of fact, we have no English equivalent
for the word "sen," or "sennin,"--signifying a
being possessing magical powers of all kinds and
living for thousands of years. Some authorities
consider the belief in _sennin_ of Indian origin,
and probably derived from old traditions of the
Rishi.

_Setsu_ ("True,"--tender and true) 2
_Shidzu_ ("The Calmer") 1
_Shidzu_ ("Peace") 2
_Shige_ ("Two-fold") 2
_Shika_ ("Deer") 2
_Shikae_ ("Deer-Inlet") 1
_Shime_ ("The Clasp,"--fastening) 1
_Shin_ ("Truth") 1
_Shina_ ("Goods") 1
_Shina_ ("Virtue") 1
_Shino_ ("Slender Bamboo") 1
_Shirushi_ ("The Proof,"--evidence) 1
_Shun_ ("The Excellent") 1
_Sue_ ("The Last") 2
_Sugi_ ("Cedar,"--cryptomeria) 1
_Sute_ ("Forsaken,"--foundling) 1
_Suzu_ ("Little Bell") 8
_Suzu_ ("Tin") 1
_Suzue_ ("Branch of Little Bells") 1
_Tae_ ("Exquisite") 1
_Taka_ ("Honor") 2
_Taka_ ("Lofty") 9
_Take_ ("Bamboo") 1
_Tama_ ("Jewel") 1
_Tamaki_ ("Ring") 1
_Tame_ ("For-the-Sake-of--") 3
_Tani_ ("Valley") 4
_Tazu_ ("Ricefield-Stork") 1
_Tetsu_ ("Iron") 4
_Toku_ ("Virtue") 2
_Tome_ ("Stop,"--cease)[45] 1

[45] Such a name may signify that the parents resolved,
after the birth of the girl, to have no more
children.

_Tomi_ ("Riches") 3
_Tomiju_ ("Wealth-and-Longevity") 1
_Tomo_ ("The Friend") 4
_Tora_ ("Tiger") 1
_Toshi_ ("Arrowhead") 1
_Toyo_ ("Abundance") 3
_Tsugi_ ("Next,"--i. e., second in order of birth) 2
_Tsuna_ ("Bond,"--rope, or fetter) 1
_Tsune_ ("The Constant,"--or, as we should say,
Constance) 10
_Tsuru_ ("Stork") 4
_Ume_ ("Plum-blossom") 1
_Umegae_ ("Plumtree-spray") 1
_Umeno_ ("Plumtree-field") 2
_Urano_ ("Shore-field") 1
_Ushi_ ("Cow,"--or Ox)[46] 1

[46] This extraordinary name is probably to be explained
as a reference to date of birth. According to the
old Chinese astrology, years, months, days, and
hours were all named after the Signs of the Zodiac,
and were supposed to have some mystic relation to
those signs. I surmise that Miss Ushi was born at
the Hour of the Ox, on the Day of the Ox, in the
Month of the Ox and the Year of the Ox--"_Ushi no
Toshi no Ushi no Tsuki no Ushi no Hi no Ushi no
Koku._"

_Uta_ ("Poem,"--or Song) 1
_Wakana_ ("Young _Na_,"--probably the rape-plant
is referred to) 1
_Yae_ ("Eight-fold") 1
_Yasu_ ("The Tranquil") 1
_Yo_ ("The Positive,"--as opposed to Negative
or Feminine in the old Chinese
philosophy;--therefore, perhaps,
Masculine) 1
_Yone_ ("Rice,"--in the old sense of wealth) 4
_Yoshi_ ("The Good") 1
_Yoshino_ ("Good Field") 1
_Yu_ ("The Valiant") 1
_Yuri_ ("Lily") 1

It will be observed that in the above list the names referring to Constancy, Forbearance, and Filial Piety have the highest numbers attached to them.

II

A FEW of the more important rules in regard to Japanese female names must now be mentioned.

The great majority of these _yobina_ are words of two syllables. Personal names of respectable women, belonging to the middle and lower classes, are nearly always dissyllables--except in cases where the name is lengthened by certain curious suffixes which I shall speak of further on. Formerly a name of three or more syllables indicated that the bearer belonged to a superior class. But, even among the upper classes to-day, female names of only two syllables are in fashion.

Among the people it is customary that a female name of two syllables should be preceded by the honorific "O," and followed by the title "San,"--as _O-Matsu San_, "the Honorable Miss [or Mrs.] Pine"; _O-Ume San_, "the Honorable Miss Plum-blossom."[47] But if the name happen to have three syllables, the honorific "O" is not used. A woman named _Kikue_ ("Chrysanthemum-Branch") is not addressed as "O-Kikue San," but only as "Kikue San."

[47] Under certain conditions of intimacy, both prefix and title
are dropped. They are dropped also by the superior in
addressing an inferior;--for example, a lady would not
address her maid as "_O-Yone San_," but merely as "_Yone_."

Before the names of ladies, the honorific "O" is no longer used as formerly,--even when the name consists of one syllable only. Instead of the prefix, an honorific suffix is appended to the _yobina_,--the suffix _ko_. A peasant girl named _Tomi_ would be addressed by her equals as _O-Tomi San_. But a lady of the same name would be addressed as _Tomiko_. Mrs. Shimoda, head-teacher of the Peeresses' School, for example, has the beautiful name _Uta_. She would be addressed by letter as "Shimoda Utako," and would so sign herself in replying;--the family-name, by Japanese custom, always preceding the personal name, instead of being, as with us, placed after it.

This suffix _ko_ is written with the Chinese character meaning "child," and must not be confused with the word _ko_, written with a different Chinese character, and meaning "little," which so often appears in the names of dancing girls. I should venture to say that this genteel suffix has the value of a caressing diminutive, and that the name _Aiko_ might be fairly well rendered by the "Amoretta" of Spenser's _Faerie Queene_. Be this as it may, a Japanese lady named _Setsu_ or _Sada_ would not be addressed in these days as O-Setsu or O-Sada, but as Setsuko or Sadako. On the other hand, if a woman of the people were to sign herself as Setsuko or Sadako, she would certainly be laughed at,--since the suffix would give to her appellation the meaning of "the Lady Setsu," or "the Lady Sada."

I have said that the honorific "O" is placed before the _yobina_ of women of the middle and lower classes. Even the wife of a _kurumaya_ would probably be referred to as the "Honorable Mrs. Such-a-one." But there are very remarkable exceptions to this general rule regarding the prefix "O." In some country-districts the common _yobina_ of two syllables is made a trisyllable by the addition of a peculiar suffix; and before such trisyllabic names the "O" is never placed. For example, the girls of Wakayama, in the Province of Kii, usually have added to their _yobina_ the suffix "_e_,"[48] signifying "inlet," "bay," "frith,"--sometimes "river." Thus we find such names as _Namie_ ("Wave-Bay"), _Tomie_ ("Riches-Bay"), _Sumie_ ("Dwelling-Bay"), _Shizue_ ("Quiet-Bay"), _Tamae_ ("Jewel-Bay"). Again there is a provincial suffix "_no_" meaning "field" or "plain," which is attached to the majority of female names in certain districts. _Yoshino_ ("Fertile Field"), _Umeno_ ("Plumflower Field"), _Shizuno_ ("Quiet Field"), _Urano_ ("Coast Field"), _Utano_ ("Song Field"), are typical names of this class. A girl called _Namie_ or _Kikuno_ is not addressed as "O-Namie San" or "O-Kikuno San," but as "Namie San," "Kikuno San."

[48] This suffix must not be confused with the suffix "_e_,"
signifying "branch," which is also attached to many popular
names. Without seeing the Chinese character, you cannot
decide whether the name _Tamae_, for example, means
"Jewel-branch" or "Jewel Inlet."

"San" (abbreviation of _Sama_, a word originally meaning "form," "appearance"), when placed after a female name, corresponds to either our "Miss" or "Mrs." Placed after a man's name it has at least the value of our "Mr.",--perhaps even more. The unabbreviated form _Sama_ is placed after the names of high personages of either sex, and after the names of divinities: the Shinto Gods are styled the _Kami-Sama_, which might be translated as "the Lords Supreme"; the Bodhisattva Jizo is called _Jizo-Sama_, "the Lord Jizo." A lady may also be styled "Sama." A lady called _Ayako_, for instance, might very properly be addressed as Ayako Sama. But when a lady's name, independently of the suffix, consists of more than three syllables, it is customary to drop either the _ko_ or the title. Thus "the Lady Ayame" would not be spoken of as "Ayameko Sama," but more euphoniously as "Ayame Sama,"[49] or as "Ayameko."

[49] "Ayame Sama," however, is rather familiar; and this form
cannot be used by a stranger in verbal address, though a
letter may be directed with the name so written. As a
rule, the _ko_ is the more respectful form.

So much having been said as regards the etiquette of prefixes and suffixes, I shall now attempt a classification of female names,--beginning with popular _yobina_. These will be found particularly interesting, because they reflect something of race-feeling in the matter of ethics and aesthetics, and because they serve to illustrate curious facts relating to Japanese custom. The first place I have given to names of purely moral meaning,--usually bestowed in the hope that the children will grow up worthy of them. But the lists should in no case be regarded as complete: they are only representative. Furthermore, I must confess my inability to explain the reason of many names, which proved as much of riddles to Japanese friends as to myself.

NAMES OF VIRTUES AND PROPRIETIES

_O-Ai_ "Love."
_O-Chie_ "Intelligence."
_O-Chu_ "Loyalty."
_O-Jin_ "Tenderness,"--humanity.
_O-Jun_ "Faithful-to-death."
_O-Kaiyo_ "Forgiveness,"--pardon.
_O-Ken_ "Wise,"--in the sense of moral discernment.
_O-Ko_ "Filial Piety."
_O-Masa_ "Righteous,"--just.
_O-Michi_ "The Way,"--doctrine.
_Misao_ "Honor,"--wifely fidelity.
_O-Nao_ "The Upright,"--honest.
_O-Nobu_ "The Faithful."
_O-Rei_ "Propriety,"--in the old Chinese sense.
_O-Retsu_ "Chaste and True."
_O-Ryo_ "The Generous,"--magnanimous.
_O-Sada_ "The Chaste."
_O-Sei_ "Truth."
_O-Shin_ "Faith,"--in the sense of fidelity, trust.
_O-Shizu_ "The Tranquil,"--calm-souled.
_O-Setsu_ "Fidelity,"--wifely virtue.
_O-Tame_ "For-the-sake-of,"--a name suggesting
unselfishness.
_O-Tei_ "The Docile,"--in the meaning of virtuous
obedience.
_O-Toku_ "Virtue."
_O-Tomo_ "The Friend,"--especially in the meaning of
mate, companion.
_O-Tsune_ "Constancy."
_O-Yasu_ "The Amiable,"--gentle.
_O-Yoshi_ "The Good."
_O-Yoshi_ "The Respectful."