Page:Things Japanese (1905).djvu/83

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Books on Japan.
71

will not say that the author is as mad as a March hare. Her idée fixe seems to have been that every foreign man in Yokohama and "Jeddo" meditated an assault on her. As for the Japanese, she dismisses them as "disgusting creatures."[1]

More edifying, if less amusing, than such works are the numerous monographs on special subjects, particularly those on art. Such are Gonse's L'art Japonais, Audsley and Bowes' various publications on Keramic Art, Seals, and Enamels, Franks's and Dresser's books, and above all, Anderson's Pictorial Art of Japan, which is a magnificent work, conceived in a critical spirit, written with competent knowledge, and beautifully illustrated. Conder's Flowers of Japan and Japanese Gardens, Piggott's Music and Musical Instruments of Japan, Leech's Butterflies from Japan, Gowland's Dolmens and Burial Mounds in Japan, and Munro's Coins of Japan may be confidently recommended as the best treatises on their respective subjects. Gubbins has translated the Japanese Civil Code, making his translation doubly useful by printing the original opposite to it on the same page. Lönholm, too, has done yeoman's service by rendering some of the codes


  1. Here is a portion of this authoress's description of Yokohama and its foreign residents:—

    "It will be well understood that the life of the European in Japan is, after all, a wretched one. The senses and the animal appetite are abundantly provided for; but the mind, the heart, and the soul are left totally destitute. There are clubs, it is true, but at the time of my stay in Yokohama, they were mere gastronomical resorts. The pure-minded men of the island live at home, where they can enjoy just as much comfort as in the clubs, and are rarely seen in them, except when dramatic companies, comedians, whistlers, or such people visit this land. A few of the better Europeans visit the club to kill time.

    "I had occasion to remark during my stay in Yokohama that the perennial monotony of the place, and the sensual life led there, have reduced many of them to a state bordering on imbecility. It was difficult to believe that the drivelling trash which they talked could have its origin in the head at all. The eyes of such men are dull, and they have a kind of idiotic stare. They see and hear only what directly attracts the stomach and senses. It is useless moralising further on this subject; but I cannot refrain from adding that the impression produced upon a healthy mind by this portentous abasement is very disheartening. Often when contemplating the superb scenery among which these depraved creatures live, I have involuntarily exclaimed in the words of the poet,

    'Though every prospect pleases,
      And only man is vile.'"