to say that when this request was made Shikib
retired to the Buddhist temple in Ishiyama, situated on hilly ground
at the head of the picturesque river Wooji, looking down on Lake Biwa.
There she betook herself to undergo the "Tooya" (confinement in a
temple throughout the night), a solemn religious observance for the
purpose of obtaining divine help and good success in her undertaking.
It was the evening of the fifteenth of August. Before her eyes the
view extended for miles. In the silver lake below, the pale face of
the full moon was reflected in the calm, mirror-like waters,
displaying itself in indescribable beauty. Her mind became more and
more serene as she gazed on the prospect before her, while her
imagination became more and more lively as she grew calmer and calmer.
The ideas and incidents of the story, which she was about to write,
stole into her mind as if by divine influence. The first topic which
struck her most strongly was that given in the chapters on exile.
These she wrote down immediately, in order not to allow the
inspiration of the moment to be lost, on the back of a roll of
Daihannia (the Chinese translation of Mahaprajnaparamita, one of the
Buddhist Sutras), and formed subsequently two chapters in the text,
the Suma and Akashi, all the remaining parts of the work having been
added one by one. It is said that this idea of exile came naturally to
her mind, because a prince who had been known to her from her
childhood had been an exile at Kiusiu, a little before this period.

It is also said that the authoress afterwards copied the roll of
Daihannia with her own hand, in expiation of her having profanely used
it as a notebook, and that she dedicated it to the Temple, in which
there is still a room where she is alleged to have written down the
story. A roll of Daihannia is there also, which is asserted to be the
very same one copied by her.

How far these traditions are in accordance with fact may be a matter
of question, but thus they have come down to us, and are popularly
believed.

Many Europeans, I daresay, have noticed on our lacquer work and other
art objects, the representation of a lady seated at a writing-desk,
with a pen held in her tiny fingers, gazing at the moon reflected in a
lake. This lady is no other than our authoress.

The number of chapters in the modern text of the story is fifty-four,
one of these having the title only and nothing else. There is some
reason to believe tha