Undoubtedly this attitude of the upper classes had much to do with the triviality and vulgarity that existed in the theatre. But on the other hand, the isolated actors and playwrights belonged all the more to the theatre. Left without leadership, they worked out their own salvation, and made their own standards. Lacking the stimulus that the recognition and encouragement of the highest in the land might have given them, they were able through their own innate sense of art and unerring desire for beauty to bring about the present rich accumulation of artistic forces within Kabuki which may yet be an impetus to the Western theatre, hungry as it is for just such fare as Kabuki is able to provide so bountifully. When all is considered the yakusha was more sinned against than sinning. In fact, he was often more cultivated than the ordinary citizen, even the samurai who, especially in the lower ranks, were merely rough, unlearned soldiery, and often knew nothing of courtesy or manners. “Too often”, says Fenollosa, “we have read that the whole brilliancy and value of Japan lay in her samurai.” The yakusha excelled in military arts, they used judo and fencing with good effect on the stage, and were expert in swordsmanship. They were obliged to be skilled counterfeiters of the samurai, since the most popular plays were those dealing with the exploits of the two-sworded hero, and nothing pleased playgoers better than to see the stately daimyo and his loyal retainers represented on the stage, for they were personages so far removed from the everyday life of the plain citizen. After all, it was the outcast yakusha who upheld the flower of chivalry and idealised the faithfulness of man for master, loyalty and self-sacrifice, the favourite themes of the plays. Again, it was the yakusha, held in such low esteem, who was to keep alive the feudal age, long after it had passed away. And it is the yakusha to-day who maintains the dignity of bearing and represents the heroic deeds of the samurai, when many of their descendants have wellnigh forgotten the principles that actuated their ancestors. [Illustration: Nakamura Kichiyemon as Kumagae, a warrior of Old Japan.] SHIBAI CHAPTER XVIII CUSTOMS OF SHIBAI One of the most remarkable customs connected with theatre going was the unearthly hour in the morning the shibai opened. Just before dawn, or between four and five o’clock, the big drum in the drum-tower was beaten as a signal that the performances were about to begin.