| November. | The Deer at Eve. Maple-leaves Stained by the First Hoarfrost. |
| December. | Winter Flowers. Distant Mountains Seen through the Leafless Trees. |
It will be noticed that the themes are in most cases appropriate to the month to which they are allotted,—a consideration made clearer still by reference to Japanese literary conventions. For instance, an uncultured European may suppose that the moon belongs equally to every season. He is wrong: the moon is the special property of autumn, and the still more private and particular property of September. You ask, why? That only shows your want of education. Educated persons accept all such literary dicta without question. European notions may be all very well in such matters as railways, and drainage, and steam-boilers, and things of that sort; but when it comes to poetry, the Japanese cry halt, for this is sacred ground. There are, no doubt, some heretics in these latter days:—one programme shown to us proposes such themes as "A Torpedo-boat," "The Yearly House-cleaning," "Lucifer Matches." (!) A few men have even endeavoured to lead Japanese poetry into completely new paths,—to introduce rhyme, with stanzas formed on the English model, etc.; but such innovators have scant following.—To return to orthodoxy. The Palace itself, conservative in most things non-political, offers to the nation an example of fidelity to the national traditions in matters relating to poetry. The Imperial family has its teachers of the art. The Emperor's passion for poetry is such that he devotes a portion of every evening to the writing of verse, and during the nine years from 1893 to 1901 composed no fewer than 27,000 odes in the thirty-one syllable style. Once a year too, in January, a theme is set, on which the Emperor, the Empress, and other exalted personages compose each a thirty-one syllable ode, and the whole nation is invited to compete, with the result that many thousands of verses are sent in, written on thick paper of a certain size
