In their full-sized state, both in China and Japan, one can at least say that when their stairways and floors are not rotten, or porous from the depredations of white ants, you can climb to the upper storey, whence you are nearly always sure of a fine view. But in these miniature pagodas no climbing would be possible; you could not even sit on the top to look at the view because of the ball or the spike.
These little buildings are usually of stone, with from three to nine tiers of roofs. Sometimes they are only a series of projecting eaves, but more often there is at least the pretence of a storey in between. The square, hexagonal, or octagonal cap which crowns the structure is much like the top part of the ‘Kasuga’-shaped lantern, and, like the lantern, they are generally supported by a plinth rising from the solid ground. Sometimes, however, they are set up on three or more legs, like mushroom-shaped lanterns, and then they look perfectly ridiculous. They are called Koraito, or ‘Korean Towers,’ and are supposed to have some religious significance, though what it is I don’t believe the people know themselves. Their large prototypes in the temple grounds at Nikko, at Miyajima, and at Kyoto seem to have no particular use assigned to them. In China devout Buddhists build them to show their faith—or their wealth.
There is an infinite number of variations of pattern, some purely Chinese, others inclining
