Buddhism or Shintoism; it is not Buddhism or Shintoism, however, but a primitive belief which in its manifestation varies much in different villages.  For example, in one village the good deeds of an ancient sage are told.  The time when that priest lived and particulars about him are getting dimmer and dimmer, but his influence is still considerable.  Though many people are worshipped in national and prefectural shrines the influence of those enshrined is small compared with the influence of a man or woman of the past who was not much celebrated but was thought to be good by the rustic people.

“Think of the way in which the memory of the maid-servant Otake is worshipped by the peasants through one-half of Japan.  That was a pious and illuminated person who worked very hard.  As her uta (poem) says, ’Though hands and feet are very busy at work, still I can praise and follow God always because my mind and heart are not occupied by worldly things.’  She ate poor food and gave her own food to beggars.  So when a countryman wastes the bounty of nature he is still reprimanded by the example of that maid-servant.  She is more respected than many great men.”

My visitor thought a religious revival might happen under the leadership of a Christian or of a Buddhist, or of a man who “united Buddhism and Christianity” or “developed the primitive form of faith among the lower people.”  He thought there were “already men in the country who might be these leaders.”  He said that much might happen in ten years.  “Materialism is prevalent everywhere, but people will begin to feel difficulties in following their materialism.  When they cannot go any further with it they will begin to be awakened.”

And then this young man who sincerely desires to do something with his life and has at any rate made a beginning went his way.  Up and down Japan I met several single-hearted men not unlike him.

One day I made an excursion from Tokyo and came on an extraordinary avenue of small wooden red painted torii, gimcracky things made out of what a carpenter would call “two by two stuff.”  By the time I got to the shrine to which the torii led I must have passed a thousand of these erections.  In one spot there was a stack of torii lying on their sides.  The shrine was in honour of the fox god and there was a curious story behind it.  Twenty years before a man interested in the “development” of the district had caused it to be given out that foxes, the messengers of the god Inari, had been seen on this spot in the vicinity of a humble shrine to that divinity.  The farmers were continually questioned about the matter.  It was suggested that the god was manifesting his presence.  In the end more and more worshippers came, and, with the liberal assistance of the speculator, a fine new shrine was erected in place of the shabby one.  His hand was also seen in the building of a big burrow—­of concrete—­for the comfort of the god’s messenger.  The top of the burrow also furnished an excellent view of the surrounding district, and teahouses were built in the vicinity.  Indeed in a year or two quite a village of teahouses came into existence.  The place, which was on the sea-coast, had become a kind of Southend or Coney Island, and attracted thousands of visitors.