paper—are dedicated. Nothing is too humble, too lowly in its own sphere of usefulness, to be without its patron saint. The broom, by this, becomes a symbol; the very cooking utensils are altar vessels; and the glowing coals of the hibachi, sacred fire.
Lafcadio Hearn tells us in regard to customs of old days—still observed in the remoter country places—that
“Gardens, too, were holy, and there were rules to be observed in their management, lest offence be given to the gods of trees and flowers. … The trees were haunted and holy; even the rocks were endowed with conscious life.”
With this constant, almost daily, ceremonial and rejoicing over the outward forms of Nature to its inmost spirits, it may easily be seen that the fêtes and matsuri I have mentioned but brush the fringe of the subject.
Attention, too, in Japan, is paid to the national holidays of other countries, more especially in the Treaty Ports. I never saw more beautiful fireworks or street decoration in the United States than in Yokohama on the several Fourths of July I have spent there. Nor was it done by the foreigners in the Settlement alone, by any means. The street of native shops—Benten Dori—was decorated
