This was the evening of Wild Boar's day, and some _mochi_ (pounded rice cake) was presented to him, according to custom, on a tray of plain white wood.

He called Koremitz before him and said, "To-day is not a very opportune day; I would rather have them to-morrow evening. Do send in some to-morrow.[88] It need not be of so many colors." So saying, he smiled a little, and sharp Koremitz soon understood what he meant. And this he accordingly did on the morrow, on a beautiful flower-waiter.

Up to this time nothing about Violet had been publicly known, and Genji thought it was time to inform her father about his daughter; but he considered he had better have the ceremony of Mogi first performed, and ordered preparations to be made with that object.

Let us here notice that the young daughter of Udaijin, after she saw Genji, was longing to see him again. This inclination was perceived by her relations. It seems that her father was not quite averse to this liking, and he told his eldest daughter, the reigning Emperor's mother, that Genji was recently bereaved of his good consort, and that he should not feel discontented if his daughter were to take the place of Lady Aoi; but this the royal mother did not approve. "It would be far better for her to be introduced at Court," she said, and began contriving to bring this about.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 80: The sacred virgin of the temple of Ise.]

[Footnote 81: The same of Kamo, which is situated in the neighborhood of Kioto, the then capital.]

[Footnote 82: "Ajiro" means woven bamboo, and here it signifies a carriage made of woven bamboo.]

[Footnote 83: Before proceeding with the story, it is necessary for the reader to peruse the following note: In j.a.pan there existed, and still more or less exists, a certain superst.i.tion which is entertained, that the spirits of the dead have the power of inflicting injury on mankind; for instance, a woman when slighted or deserted, dies, her spirit often works evil on the man who forsook her, or on her rival. This is the spirit of the dead. There is also another belief that the spirits of the living have sometimes the same power, but in this case it only takes place when one is fiercely jealous.

When this spirit works upon the rival, the owner of the spirit is not aware of it; but she herself becomes more gloomy, as if she had, as it were, lost her own spirit. These spirits can be exorcised, and the act is performed by a certain sect of priests; but the living one is considered far more difficult to exorcise than the other, because it is imagined that the dead spirit can be easily "laid," or driven back to the tomb, while the living one, being still in its present state, cannot be settled so easily. The method of exorcism is as follows: Certain spells are used on the sufferer, and certain religious addresses are read from the Buddhist bibles, and then the sufferer is made to speak out all his subjects of complaint; but it is supposed not to be the man himself who speaks and tells these causes of complaint, but the spirit of which he is possessed. This process is sometimes performed on a third party; in that case the priest temporarily transmits the spirit from the sufferer to the subst.i.tute and makes it speak with his mouth. When he has told all the causes of his complaint and wrongs, the priest sometimes argues with him, sometimes chides, sometimes soothes, and sometimes threatens, and at last says to the spirit, "If you do not go out quietly, I will confine you by my sacred power." By such means the spirit is exorcised; the process resembles mesmerism in some points, but of course has no sensible foundation. In other cases the spirits of those who have either recently, or even years before, met with cruel wrongs or death, may in their wanderings seize upon some person in the vicinity, though totally unconnected with the crime done upon them, and may cause them suffering, or even spirits, who from any cause, are unable to obtain rest, may do the same thing.]

[Footnote 84: In the ceremony of exorcism a sacred perfume is burnt, and it was this scent which the Lady of Rokjio perceived in her garment because her spirit was supposed to go to and fro between herself and Lady Aoi, and to bring with it the smell of this perfume.]

[Footnote 85: A kind of pink; some translate it Gentian.]

[Footnote 86: Here the flower is compared to the child, and autumn to the mother.]

[Footnote 87: "Hentski," a children's game. It consists in choosing beforehand a "hen" or half-character, opening a book and seeing which of the players can most quickly pick out the words beginning with this "hen."]

[Footnote 88: It seemed to have been the ancient custom, that on the third night of a wedding, the same kind of rice cake, but only of one color, was served up.]

CHAPTER X

DIVINE TREE

The departure of the Saigu, the daughter of the Lady of Rokjio, for her destination in the Temple of Ise, which was postponed from time to time, owing to different circ.u.mstances, was at length arranged to take place in September. This definite arrangement delighted the Saigu, to whom the uncertainty of the event had been somewhat tiresome. Her mother also made up her mind to accompany her to the temple. Although there was no precedent for the mother of the Saigu accompanying her daughter, this lady made up her mind to do so, because she would not allow her young daughter to go alone.

In a suburban field the "field palace" was built.[89] It was of wood, and surrounded by a fence of newly cut branches of trees. In front stood a huge _torii_[90] of logs, and within the compound were the quarters of the Kandzkasa.[91] Here the Saigu took up her residence, where her mother also accompanied her. When the sixteenth of September, which was fixed for the departure, arrived, the ceremony of her last consecration was duly performed on the banks of the River Katzra, whence the sacred virgin went to the Imperial Palace to have the farewell audience with the Emperor. She was accompanied by her mother. The father of the latter had been a great personage of State, and she had been married to a Royal Prince at sixteen, when there had been every possibility of her coming to the Court in a position far superior to what she now enjoyed. She was, however, bereaved of him at the age of twenty; and now at thirty she comes to take leave at her departure for a far-off province with her only daughter. The Saigu was about fourteen years of age, was extremely delicate and fair to look upon, and when presented to the Emperor he was struck by the charms of her youthful appearance.

Numerous carriages were ranged at the front of eight State departments to see her off in state, besides many others along the road, full of spectators.

Late in the afternoon her party left the palace, and turned away from Nijio round to the highway of Toin, and pa.s.sed by the mansion of Genji, who witnessed their pa.s.sing, and sent the following to the lady-mother with a twig of Sakaki (divine tree):--

"Bravely you quit this scene, 'tis true; But though you dauntless fly so far, Your sleeve may yet be wet with dew, Before you cross Suzukah."[92]

The answer to this was sent to him from beyond the barrier of Ausaka (meeting-path) in the following form:--

"Whether my sleeve be wet or not, In the waters of the Suzukah, Who will care? Too soon forgot Will Ise be that lies so far."

And thus the Lady of Rokjio and her daughter disappear for some time from our scenes in the capital.

It was about this time that the ex-Emperor was indisposed for some time, and in October his state became precarious. The anxiety of the public was general, and the Emperor went to visit him. Notwithstanding his weakness, the former gave him every injunction, first about the Heir-apparent, then about Genji, and said:--

"Regard him as your adviser, both in large and small matters, without reserve, and not otherwise than if I were still alive. He is not incapable of sharing in the administration of public affairs, notwithstanding his youth. He has a physiognomy which argues great qualities, and for this reason, I made him remain in an ordinary position, without creating him a Royal Prince, with the object that he should be able to take part in public affairs. Do not misconstrue these ideas."

There were some more injunctions given of like nature relating to public matters, and the Emperor sorrowfully and repeatedly a.s.sured him that he would not neglect them. Such, however, are not subjects which we women are supposed to understand, and even thus much that I have mentioned is given not without some apprehension.

A few days after the visit of the Emperor the Heir-apparent was brought before his dying father. There had been some idea that he should be brought on the day when the Emperor paid his visit, but it was postponed to avoid any possible confusion. The boy Prince was apparently more pleased at seeing his father than concerned at his illness. To him the ex-Emperor told many things, but he was too young to heed them. Genji was also present, and the ex-Emperor explained to him in what way he should serve the Government, and how he should look after this young Prince. When their interview concluded it was already merging towards the evening, and the young Prince returned to the palace.

The Royal mother of the reigning Emperor (formerly Koki-den-Niogo) would also have visited the ex-Emperor but for her repugnance to encounter the Princess Wistaria, who never left his side.

In the course of a few days the strength of the Emperor began to decline, and at last he quietly and peacefully pa.s.sed away.

And now the Court went into general mourning, and Genji, being one of the princ.i.p.al mourners, put on a dress of Wistaria cloth;[93] so frequently did misfortune fall on him in the course of a few years, and his cares became really great.

The funeral and the weekly requiems were performed with all due pomp and ceremony, and when the forty-ninth day had pa.s.sed, all the private household of his late Majesty dispersed in the midst of the dreary weather of the latter part of December to their own homes; the Princess Wistaria retiring to her own residence in Sanjio, accompanied by her brother, Prince Hiobkio.

True, it is that his late Majesty had been for some time off the throne, but his authority had by no means diminished on that account.

But his death now altered the state of things, and the ascendancy of the family of Udaijin became a.s.sured. The people in general entertained great fear that infelicitous changes would take place in public affairs, and among these Genji and the Princess Wistaria were the most disturbed by such anxieties.

The new year came in, but nothing joyful or exciting accompanied its presence--the world was still.

Genji kept himself to his mansion. In those days, when his father was still in power, his courtyard was filled with the carriages of visitors, especially when the days of the appointments were approaching; but now this was changed, and his household secretaries had but little to occupy them.

In January the Princess Momo-zono (peach-gardens) was chosen for the Saiin, of the Temple of Kamo, her predecessor having retired from office, on account of the mourning for her father, the late ex-Emperor.

There were not many precedents for Princesses of the second generation being appointed to this position; but this Princess was so chosen, owing, it seems, to the circ.u.mstance that there was no immediate issue of the Imperial blood suitable for this office.

In February the youngest daughter of the Udaijin became the Naishi-no-Kami,[94] in the place of the former one, who had left office and become a nun after the death of the ex-Emperor.

She took up her residence in the Kokiden, which was till lately occupied by her sister, the Empress-mother, who at this period spent most of her time at her father's, and who when she came to the Court made the Ume-Tsubo (the plum-chamber) her apartment.

Meanwhile the Empress-mother, who was by nature sagacious and revengeful, and who during the late Emperor's life had been fain to disguise her spiteful feelings, now conceived designs of vengeance against those who had been adverse to her; and this spirit was directed especially against Genji and his father-in-law, Sadaijin--against the latter because he had married his only daughter to Genji against the wishes of the Emperor when Heir-apparent, and because during the life of the late Emperor his influence eclipsed that of her father, Udaijin, who had long been his political adversary.

The Emperor, it is true, never forgot the dying injunctions of his father, and never failed in sympathy with Genji; but he was still young, with a weak mind, and therefore he was under the influence of his mother and grandfather, Udaijin, and was often constrained by them in his actions to go contrary to his own wishes.

Such being the state of things, Sadaijin seldom appeared at Court, and his loss of influence became manifest. Genji, too, had become less adventurous and more steady in his life; and in his mansion Violet became the favorite object of attraction, in whose behalf the ceremony of Mogi had been duly performed some time before, and who had been presented to her father. The latter had for a long time regarded her as lost, and even now he never forgave the way in which his daughter had been taken away by Genji.

The summer had pa.s.sed without any particular events, and autumn arrived. Genji, wishing to have a little change, went to the monastery of Unlinin,[95] and spent some days in the chamber of a rissh (discipline-master), who was a brother of his mother. Maple-trees were changing their tints, and the beautiful scenery around this spot made him almost forget his home. His daily amus.e.m.e.nt was to gather together several monks, and make them discuss before him.

He himself perused the so-called "sixty volumes,"[96] and would get the monks to explain any point which was not clear to his understanding.

When he came to reflect on the various circ.u.mstances taking place in the capital, he would have preferred remaining in his present retirement; but he could not forget one whom he had left behind there, and this caused him to return. After he had requested a splendid expiatory service to be performed, he left the monastery. The monks and the neighbors came to see him depart. His carriage was still black, and his sleeves were still of Wistaria, and in this gloomy state he made his return to his mansion in Nijio.

He brought back some twigs of maple, whose hues, when compared with those in his own garden, he perceived were far more beautiful. He, therefore, sent one of these to the residence of Princess Wistaria, who had it put in a vase, and hung at the side of her veranda.

Next day he went to the Imperial Palace, to see his brother the Emperor, who was pa.s.sing a quiet and unoccupied leisure, and soon entered into a pleasant conversation on matters both past and present.

This Emperor, it must be remembered, was a person of quiet ways and moderate ambition. He was kind in heart, and affectionate to his relatives. His eyes were shut to the more objectionable actions of Genji. He talked with him on different topics of literature, and asked his opinions on different questions. He also talked on several poetical subjects, and on the news of the day--of the departure of the Saigu.