tor only adding here
and there a few words of heading or tag to a chapter, where an
explanation or amplification may seem necessary. I fear that the long
and hard names will often make my tales tedious reading, but I believe
that those who will bear with the difficulty will learn more of the
character of the Japanese people than by skimming over descriptions of
travel and adventure, however brilliant. The lord and his retainer,
the warrior and the priest, the humble artisan and the despised Eta or
pariah, each in his turn will become a leading character in my budget
of stories; and it is out of the mouths of these personages that I
hope to show forth a tolerably complete picture of Japanese society.

Having said so much by way of preface, I beg my readers to fancy
themselves wafted away to the shores of the Bay of Yedo--a fair,
smiling landscape: gentle slopes, crested by a dark fringe of pines
and firs, lead down to the sea; the quaint eaves of many a temple and
holy shrine peep out here and there from the groves; the bay itself is
studded with picturesque fisher-craft, the torches of which shine by
night like glow-worms among the outlying forts; far away to the west
loom the goblin-haunted heights of Oyama, and beyond the twin hills of
the Hakone Pass--Fuji-Yama, the Peerless Mountain, solitary and grand,
stands in the centre of the plain, from which it sprang vomiting
flames twenty-one centuries ago.[1] For a hundred and sixty years the
huge mountain has been at peace, but the frequent earthquakes still
tell of hidden fires, and none can say when the red-hot stones and
ashes may once more fall like rain over five provinces.

In the midst of a nest of venerable trees in Takanawa, a suburb of
Yedo, is hidden Sengakuji, or the Spring-hill Temple, renowned
throughout the length and breadth of the land for its cemetery, which
contains the graves of the Forty-seven. Ronins,[2] famous in Japanese
history, heroes of Japanese drama, the tale of whose deeds I am about
to transcribe.

On the left-hand side of the main court of the temple is a chapel, in
which, surmounted by a gilt figure of Kwanyin, the goddess of mercy,
are enshrined the images of the forty-seven men, and of the master
whom they loved so well. The statues are carved in wood, the faces
coloured, and the dresses richly lacquered; as works of art they have
great merit--the action of the heroes, each armed with his favourite
weapon, being wonderfully life-like