the
Japanese drama is at present, like many other things in the country,
to a great extent in a state of transition. Still, some remarks on
these two matters are, I consider, absolutely essential in order that
my readers may form some idea of two important phases of Japanese
life. The literature of Japan is indeed largely mixed up with the
national life through many centuries--a reflection, in fact, of it.
The late Sir Edwin Arnold, whose great authority on everything
connected with Japan is generally admitted, has observed in reference
to the literature of that country: "The time will come when Japan,
safe, famous, and glad with the promise of peaceful years to follow
and to reward this present period of life and death conflict, will
engage once again the attraction of the Western nations on the side of
her artistic and intellectual gifts. Already in this part of the globe
persons of culture have become well aware how high and subtle is her
artistic genius; and by and by it will be discovered that there are
real treasures to be found in her literature. Moreover, England,
beyond any other European country, is likely to be attracted to this
branch, at present naturally neglected, of what may be called the
spiritual side of Japanese life."

The drawback to the fulfilment of the somewhat optimistic forecast of
Sir Edwin Arnold is the great difficulty experienced by the Western
nations in acquiring a sufficient knowledge of the language in which
the treasures of Japanese literature are embedded if not entombed. No
man can ever grasp the beauties of a literature, and especially an
Oriental literature, through the medium of a translation, however well
done. A translation is like a diamond with the brilliancy removed, if
we can imagine such a thing. It may be faultlessly correct in its
rendering, and yet absolutely misleading in its interpretation of the
original.

Japanese literature embraces poetry, history, fiction, books of
ceremony and travel, as well as many works of an ethical nature.
Poetry is supposed to have reached its most brilliant period in Japan
a long way back--long even before Geoffrey Chaucer took up his pen to
write those immortal lines which I fear but comparatively few
Englishmen now read. In reference to this poetry of twelve hundred
years ago, Mr. Aston--perhaps the greatest authority on the
subject--remarks: "While the eighth century has left us little or no
prose literature of importance, it was em