and Germany. This is doubtless because the Japanese ideas of buildings are not carried out in the imperishable materials that have, fortunately for us, been the old-time method of European builders. Japanese houses and temples[1] are of wood and paper, of bamboo and thatch, and not of the granite they have in such profusion, or of the imperishable bricks of the Chinese and Egyptians. And their fences and gates correspond.
Every garden must have two gates—one for effect and ‘company,’ and the other for use and necessity. The big gate will be as grand as may be proper to ‘go’ with the garden, but the little one must be humble and insignificant, for the removal of rubbish. I firmly believe that, with the passion of the people for cleaning, this is the entrance nearest to the gardener’s, and, secretly, to the garden’s mistress’s heart. Oh, the luxury, to their fastidious minds, in the necessity of constant sweeping which the autumn must bring! I used to long to be at it myself, except that Japanese methods are back-breaking to other races, for their sweeping brooms and the toys that do duty as rakes and hoes require, even with their short stature, that the body be bent nearly double. And how imposingly tall I used to feel, and what shouts of delighted
- ↑ Japanese temples have from time immemorial been rebuilt every twenty years. They are decorated again in the same manner and all is rededicated.
