“Shintoism,” in the words of Diayoro Goh, Chancellor of the Japanese Consulate General in London, “originated in the worship offered by a barbarous people to the mythological persons of its own invention.” To speak accurately, it is not so much a religion as patriotism exalted to the rank of a creed. It is a veneration of the country’s heroes and benefactors of every age, legendary and historical, ancient and more recent; the spirits of these being appealed to for protection. Interwoven with this, its fundamental characteristic, and to a great extent obscuring it, is a worship of the personified forces of nature; expressing itself often in the most abject superstition, and, until lately, also in that grosser symbolism with which the religion of Ancient Egypt abounded. This latter feature was widely prevalent in Japan at the time that the country was first opened to foreigners; but after the Revolution in 1868, it was everywhere suppressed. It would appear that the personal cleanliness for which the Japanese, as a nation, are celebrated, had its origin in the idea of the purification of the body symbolizing the cleansing of the soul; and in a vague and hazy sort of way, Shintoism would seem to recognize a future state of bliss or misery, for which the present life is a period of probation. Practically, however, this is the only world with which Shintoism concerns itself; nor does it inculcate any laws of morality or conduct, conscience and the heart being accounted sufficient guides. It provides neither public worship, nor sermons; while its application is limited to subjects of the Mikado. “It is the least exacting of all religions.” When this is once understood, there ceases to be anything surprising in the fact of two religions—of which Shintoism was one, and the other a creed so accommodating as Buddhism—running, side by side, for centuries in the same country, and being professed simultaneously by the same people, until the two were so closely interwoven that it became scarcely possible to distinguish their respective elements. In the eighteenth century an attempt was made to restore Shintoism to its primitive simplicity, and to mould it into a philosophical system which might minister to the higher aspirations of humanity. But the movement was a failure, and the Ryobu-Shinto, or “double religion,”—the combination, that is to say, of Shintoism and Buddhism—continued as before. It was only so lately as the year 1868 that any important change took place in the religious history of Japan. In that year, Shintoism—for reasons wholly political—was adopted as the State, or “established” religion; Buddhism having always been the religion favoured by the Shogunate, and the ancient nobility whom the Shogun represented. Upon this, every temple was required to declare itself either Shinto or Buddhist, and to remove the emblems and ornaments peculiar to the discarded cult, whichever that might be. That no little excitement and