Now the appellation of Bara-Musumé—much more rational as a simile than many of our own floral comparisons—can seem strange only because it is not in accord with our poetical usages and emotional habits. It is one in a thousand possible examples of the fact that Japanese similes and metaphors are not of the sort that he who runs may read. And this fact is particularly well exemplified in the yobina, or personal names of Japanese women. Because a yobina happens to be identical with the name of some tree, or bird, or flower, it does not follow that the personal appellation conveys to Japanese imagination ideas resembling those which the corresponding English word would convey, under like circumstances, to English imagination. Of the yobina that seem to us especially beautiful in translation, only a small number are bestowed for æsthetic reasons. Nor is it correct to suppose, as many persons still do, that Japanese girls are usually named after flowers, or graceful shrubs, or other beautiful objects. Æsthetic appellations are in use; but the majority of yobina are not æsthetic. Some years ago a young Japanese scholar published an interesting essay upon this subject. He had collected the personal names of about four hundred students of the Higher Normal School for Females,—girls from every part of the Empire; and he found on his list only between fifty and sixty names possessing æsthetic quality. But concerning even these he was careful to observe only that they "caused an æsthetic sensation,"—not that they had been given for æsthetic reasons. Among them were such names as Saki (Cape), Miné (Peak), Kishi (Beach), Hama (Shore), Kuni (Capital),—originally place-names;—Tsuru (Stork), Tazu (Ricefield Stork), and Chizu (Thousand Storks);—also such appellations as Yoshino (Fertile Field), Orino (Weavers' Field), Shirushi (Proof), and Masago (Sand). Few of these could seem æsthetic to a Western mind; and probably no one of them was originally given for æsthetic reasons. Names containing the character for "Stork" are names having reference to longevity, not to beauty; and a large number of names with the termination "no" (field or plain) are names referring to moral qualities. I doubt whether even fifteen per cent of yobina are really æsthetic. A very much larger proportion are names expressing moral or mental qualities. Tenderness, kindness, deftness, cleverness, are frequently represented by yobina; but appellations implying physical charm, or suggesting æsthetic ideas only, are comparatively uncommon. One reason for the fact may be that very æsthetic names are given to geisha and to jōro, and consequently vulgarized. But the chief reason certainly is that the domestic virtues still occupy in Japanese moral estimate a place not less important than that accorded to religious faith in the life of our own Middle Ages. Not in theory only, but in every-day practice, moral beauty is placed far above physical beauty; and girls are usually selected as wives, not for their good looks, but for their domestic qualities. Among the middle classes a very æsthetic name would not be considered in the best taste; among the poorer classes, it would scarcely be thought respectable. Ladies of rank, on the other hand, are privileged to bear very poetical names; yet the majority of the aristocratic yobina also are moral rather than æsthetic.

But the first great difficulty in the way of a study of yobina is the difficulty of translating them. A knowledge of spoken Japanese can help you very little indeed. A knowledge of Chinese also is indispensable. The meaning of a name written in kana only,—in the Japanese characters,—cannot be, in most cases, even guessed at. The Chinese characters of the name can alone explain it. The Japanese essayist, already referred to, found himself obliged to throw out no less than thirty-six names out of a list of two hundred and thirteen, simply because these thirty-six, having been recorded only in kana, could not be interpreted. Kana give only the pronunciation; and the pronunciation of a woman's name explains nothing in a majority of cases. Transliterated into Romaji, a yobina may signify two, three, or even half-a-dozen different things. One of the names thrown out of the list was Banka. Banka might signify "Mint" (the plant), which would be a pretty name; but it might also mean "Evening-haze." Yuka, another rejected name, might be an abbreviation of Yukabutsu, "precious"; but it might just as well mean "a floor." Nochi, a third example, might signify "future"; yet it could also mean "a descendant," and various other things. My reader will be able to find many other homonyms in the lists of names given further on. Ai in Romaji, for instance, may signify either "love" or "indigo-blue";—Chō, "a butterfly," or "superior," or "long";—Ei, either "sagacious" or "blooming";—Kei, either "rapture" or "reverence";—Sato, either "native home" or "sugar";—Toshi, either "year" or "arrow-head";—Taka, "tall," "honorable," or "falcon." The chief, and, for the present, insuperable obstacle to the use of Roman letters in writing Japanese, is the prodigious number of homonyms in the language. You need only glance into any good Japanese-English dictionary to understand the gravity of this obstacle. Not to multiply examples, I shall merely observe that there are nineteen words spelled chō; twenty-one spelled ki; twenty-five spelled to or tō; and no less than forty-nine spelled ko or kō.

Yet, as I have already suggested, the real signification of a woman's name cannot be ascertained even from a literal translation made with the help of the Chinese characters. Such a name, for instance, as Kagami (Mirror) really signifies the Pure-Minded, and this not in the Occidental, but in the Confucian sense of the term. Umé (Plum-blossom) is a name referring to wifely devotion and virtue. Matsu (Pine) does not refer, as an appellation, to the beauty of the tree, but to the fact that its evergreen foliage is the emblem of vigorous age. The name Také (Bamboo) is given to a child only because the bamboo has been for centuries a symbol of good-fortune. The name Sen (Wood-fairy) sounds charmingly to Western fancy; yet it expresses nothing more than the parents' hope of long life for their daughter and her offspring,—wood-fairies being supposed to live for thousands of years.... Again, many names are of so strange a sort that it is impossible to discover their meaning without questioning either the bearer or the giver; and sometimes all inquiry proves vain, because the original meaning has been long forgotten.

Before attempting to go further into the subject, I shall here offer a translation of the Tōkyō essayist's list of names,—rearranged in alphabetical order, without honorific prefixes or suffixes. Although some classes of common names are not represented, the list will serve to show the character of many still popular yobina, and also to illustrate several of the facts to which I have already called attention.

SELECTED NAMES OF STUDENTS AND GRADUATES
OF THE HIGHER NORMAL SCHOOL FOR
FEMALES (1880-1895):—

Number of
students
so named.

Ai("Indigo,"—the color) 1
Ai("Love") 1
Akasuké("The Bright Helper") 1
Asa("Morning") 1
Asa("Shallow")[33] 2