the weather, concerning sneezing, concerning words to be avoided, etc., etc., etc., the tale is endless. A very fat volume could be filled, were a complete account of all Japanese superstitions, past and present, urban and rustic, to be brought together; for each province would contribute its quota. At the same time all, or almost all, aie now confined to the lower classes; or if they find any credence in the upper class, it is chiefly among the women-folk. The generation now at school is—both for good and for evil—distinctly Voltairian.
Book recommended. Brinkley's Japan and China, Vol. V. Chap. VI.
Swords. The Japanese sword of ancient days (the tsurugi) was a straight, double-edged, heavy weapon some three feet long, intended to be brandished with both hands. That of mediæval and modern times (the katana) is lighter, shorter, has but a single edge, and is slightly curved towards the point. There is also the wakizashi, or dirk of about nine and a half inches, with which harakiri was committed. The four most famous Japanese sword-smiths are Munechika (10th century), Masamune and Yoshimitsu (latter part of the 13th century), and Muramasa (latter part of the 14th century). But Muramasa's blades had the reputation of being unlucky. Towards the close of the fifteenth century arose schools of artists in metal, who made it their business to adorn the hilt, the guard, the sheath, and other appurtenances in a manner which is still the delight of collectors. But to the Japanese connoisseur the great treasure is always the blade itself, which has been called "the living soul of the Samurai."
Japanese swords excel even the vaunted products of Damascus and Toledo. To cut through a pile of copper coins without nicking the blade is, or was, a common feat. History, tradition, and romance alike re-echo with the exploits of this wonderful weapon. The magic sword, and the sword handed down as an heirloom, figure as plentifully in the pages of Japanese novel-writers as magic rings and strawberry-marks used once
