All those who had enjoyed any relation to Danjuro during his life were invited to be present, which meant the attendance of the entire theatre fraternity,—actors and managers, playwrights, critics, journalists, artists, as well as representatives of official life. A band of Asakusa firemen in their old-time picturesque Yedo costumes were prominent, and all classes of theatre folk, musicians, property men, ushers, dancing teachers, pupils and servants of the actors, were assembled together. It might have been a scene of a hundred years ago in Yedo, but for an occasional frock-coated dignitary, and the presence of the monotonous straw hat of the West. Speeches were made by the Mayor of Tokyo, and other men of weight and importance. It was when Danjuro’s best followers stood up to view, four of the most popular actors in Tokyo, that the applause broke forth. They were Matsumoto Koshiro, Ichikawa Chusha, Ichikawa Danshiro, who died in 1922, and Ichikawa Sadanji, son of Sadanji, the star of Meiji. There was, however, one moving spirit in the proceedings, an informal master of ceremony, and this was Ichikawa Shinjuro, long associated with Danjuro and as loyal a retainer as ever served a feudal lord. Shinjuro was accustomed to assist Danjuro in his preparations to go on the stage, and no one was so eager as he to do honour to his late master on the occasion. Danjuro’s widow and her two daughters, and their husbands, Ichikawa Sansho and Ichikawa Shinsaburo, stood at the base of the stone pedestal. Danjuro’s little grand daughter pulled the string, and the late actor as Kamakura Gongoro, symbol of bravery and courage, was revealed. The curtain that had hidden the statue had scarcely touched the ground when the faithful Shinjuro scaled the stone base. A black lacquer stand was handed up to him and next a large silver bowl filled with sake. Quickly they were placed at the base of the statue. In the brief space of time in which Shinjuro made the offering before the statue of the ninth Danjuro, it seemed that his spirit was present and animated the lifeless bronze. The sudden sight of the characteristic aragoto posture of the statue also recalled the peculiar position the Ichikawa family have maintained in the Japanese theatre for the past two hundred and fifty years. III A Theatre Manager of Meiji The foremost and most progressive theatre manager of Meiji was Morita Kanya. He laboured hard to improve shibai and elevate the status of the actors. Unquestionably he was a benefactor, and if he erred in following after false gods, and was under the impression that the superior theatre of the Occident should be his pattern, he was no more astray than hundreds of others who allowed themselves to be swayed by the worship of the West.