(the species is not altogether unknown) will go so far as to place Murasaki no Shikibu on a level with Fielding, Thackeray, Victor Hugo, Dumas, and Cervantes. On the other hand, it is unjust to dismiss her summarily with the late M. George Bousquet as "cette ennuyeuse Scudéry japonaise," a verdict endorsed by Mr. Chamberlain. There are in the Genji pathos, humour, an abundant flow of pleasing sentiment, keen observation of men and manners, an appreciation of the charms of nature, and a supreme command of the resources of the Japanese language, which in her hands reached its highest point of excellence. Though never melodramatic, she gives us plenty of incident, and is seldom dull. A scholar, she abhorred pedantry and fine writing, the bane of so many of the modern novelists of Japan.
It is unnecessary to discuss here the opinion of some Japanese writers, that the Genji was written to inculcate Buddhist doctrine, or the notion of others, that the teaching of Confucian morality was its aim. Nor need we trouble ourselves with the suggestion that it is a novel à clef, and that the personages are to be identified with real persons who were alive at the time when it was written. As Motoöri very justly observes, all these ideas show an ignorance of the true object of novel-writing, which is to excite our sympathies, and to interest and amuse by the presentation of a picture of real life.
Another subject much dwelt on by native critics is the morality of the Genji, some denouncing it, as it deserves, while others strive to defend what even from the Japanese point of view is indefensible. Truth to say, the laxity of morals which it depicts is deplorable. It is a satisfaction to add that it belongs to the age and country in which the author lived, and that her own private life is admit-
