130 



DISCOVERY 



sat silent and still, holding between the palms of his 

 outstretched hands the sacred gohei, while the rest 

 broke out into a subdued Harai addressed to the 



Fig. 3. 



-ruji-SAX THRon.n Tin; pine-trees abov'E the 



LAKE OF SHOJI. 



mountain divinities of Ontake. Soon the face of the 

 medium assumed a livid hue, unearthly gaspings 

 issued from his throat, and the gohei now began to 

 tremble violently in his grasp. His eyes turned 

 upwards in their sockets until only half of the iris 

 was visible, and a series of convulsive jerks at length 

 brought the gohei to a standstill above his forehead — 

 the god had come down upon it. Thereupon the 

 maeza, bowing low towards the medium until his 

 forehead touched the ground, reverently inquired 

 what might be the " honourable name of the august 

 visitor " whose presence had now replaced the per- 

 sonality of the nakaza. In a hoarse whisper came the 

 answer, " I am Fukan Reijin " — this being the 

 posthumous title of the canonised mountaineer who, 

 in a dim and distant past, had made the first ascent 

 of Ontake-san, and in whose honour, at that precise 

 moment, a solemn festival commemorating it was 

 being held at the ancient shrine at the mountain foot 

 nearly 10,000 feet below. 



As soon as the maeza heard the name, he began to 

 prefer the requests of those pilgrims who had boons 

 to crave. They were so simple that one wondered 

 they should have been accompanied with so much 



reverence and mystery : " What sort of weather shall 

 we be granted on our homeward wav from the holy 

 mountain ? " " What about the health of those we 

 have left at home ? " " Will business prosper during 

 the coming year ? " and so forth. In a low voice 

 the medium pronounced the replies the god saw fit 

 to make, all quite orthodox in their oracular vagueness. 

 When all the questions had been suitably dealt with, 

 the medium lowered the gohei in token that the god 

 had departed from his temporary abode, and that he 

 was " coming to himself " again. The maeza then 

 arose and with well-meant but necessary vigour fell 

 to pounding and kneading the body and limbs of the 

 medium, so stiff and rigid had they become in his 

 cataleptic trance. Presently he came to, and then 

 the party proceeded on their way, having taken no 

 more notice of my presence than of the stocks and 

 stones around them. 



Later in the day, on our way down the mountaui, I 

 asked of the sendachi — the leader of another band of 

 gvoja — the reason of the white clothes always w-orn 

 by them on these pilgrimages. His explanation is 

 deserving of record : ' ' Unless we are striving to do 

 right with our hands and to think right thoughts in 

 our hearts, the gods will not commune with us nor 

 answer our prayers ; these white garments, therefore, 

 are the symbol of the purity we seek." The words 

 vividly recalled the Psalmist's own pronouncement : 

 " \\]\o shall ascend into the Hill of the Lord, or who 

 shall rise up into His Holy Place ? Even he that hath 

 clean hands and a pure heart." 



.■\mong the Oracles of the ancient Shinto shrine of 

 Kasuga, near Nara, the god declares : " We will refuse 

 to enter the house of the depraved and miserly. . . . 

 Hear, all men ! If ye desire the help of the gods, put 

 away pride. Even a hair of pride shuts ye off from 

 the gods as if it were a great cloud." 



To the Divinity of Fuji is ascribed a similar exhor- 

 tation : "Ye men of mine ! Shun desire. If ye shun 

 desire, ye will ascend to a level with the gods. Every 

 little yielding to anxiet}' is a step awav from the 

 natural heart of man. If anyone leaves the natural 

 heart of man, he becomes a beast." 



Mingled with all the reverence, admiration, and 

 love cherished by the Japanese towards the idolised 

 form of Fuji-san, there is nevertheless an element of 

 awe which, though seldom outwardly manifested, is 

 very real. A curious instance of this was experienced 

 some years ago by the writer and two Cambridge 

 friends w'ho were anxious to make the ascent at an 

 unorthodox season, while the mountain was still 

 wearing its dazzling mantle of hitherto untrodden 

 snow. The village fathers, the local police, and the 

 priests of the ancient shrine of Omiya, at the base of 

 the peak, the most important of the formal starting- 



