(1776-1843), devoted themselves to a religious propaganda,—if that can be called a religion which sets out from the principle that the only two things needful are to follow one's natural impulses and to obey the Mikado. This order of ideas triumph ed for a moment in the revolution of 1868. Buddhism was disestablished and disendowed, and Shintō was installed as the only state religion, the Council for Spiritual Affairs being given equal rank with the Council of State, which latter controlled things temporal. At the same time thousands of temples, formerly Buddhist or Ryōbu-Shintō, were, as the phrase went, "purified," that is, stripped of their Buddhist ornaments, and handed over to Shintō keeping. But as Shintō had no root in itself,—being a thing too empty and jejune to influence the hearts of men,—Buddhism soon rallied. The Council for Spiritual Affairs was reduced to the rank of a department, the department to a bureau, the bureau to a sub-bureau. The whole thing is now a mere shadow, though Shintō is still in so far the official cult that certain temples are maintained out of public moneys, and that the attendance of certain officials is required from time to time at ceremonies of a semi-religious, semi-courtly nature. Hard pressed to establish their raison d'être and retain a little popularity, the priests have taken to selling cheap prints of religious subjects, after the fashion of their Buddhist rivals. Some private scholars, too—Dr. Inoue Tetsujirō, for example—have recently attempted to infuse new life into Shintō by decking it out in ethical and theological plumes borrowed from abroad. One of these visionaries, a Mr. Sakamoto, has urged the establishment of an association which should inculcate, under new Shintō names, the seven cardinal virtues (Confucian), the doctrine of cause and effect (Buddhist), and that of a trinity in unity (Christian). But of course such cut flowers, having no vital sap left in them, wither at once. A larger measure of success has attended the establishment of two new quasi-Shintō sects, the Tenri-kyō and Remmon-kyō, which, while claiming to represent the genuine national cult, mingle therewith shreds of superstition borrowed from various
