“My family,” he said, “have been actors for nine generations. My earliest recollection of the stage dates from 1840, when I was carried on in my father’s arms, an infant of three, for introduction to the public. As you may know, the fashion of adoption plays a considerable part in all our confraternities. Great names are never allowed to die out. Thus, at the age of eighteen, I took the name of Gonjuro, being adopted by the manager of the old Tōkyō theatre, and it was not until my father’s death in 1874 that I became Danjuro the Seventh, so styled. Danjuro the First made his début in the year 1673.”

“And which is your favourite part, Mr. Danjuro?”

“I prefer historical plays, which revive old ideals and present noble figures for the emulation of posterity. In my opinion the best plays are those which stimulate patriotism. Perhaps ‘Kajincho,’ in which Benkei, disguised as a priest, enables Yoshitsune to cross the bridge and become master of Kyōto, is the rôle I like best.”

I had long since made the acquaintance of Benkei, the Devil Youth, and the feats both of mind and body which he achieved for the sake of his youthful victor, ever since the latter had defeated him in single combat on Gojō bridge, were familiar to me both from coloured prints and the representation of “Funa Benkei,” by members of a troupe. It was evident that the star actor had a weakness for “sympathetic” parts, and no doubt his mien and manner were admirably adapted to the impersonation of majestic priests.

“Have many of your actors the intellectual power to conceive and render historical heroes?”

“No; I fear it must be admitted that the great fault of too many actors is illiteracy. But in my young days we were scarcely to blame for this. The Government actually forbade us to receive any other than a theatrical education, which, as then understood, sufficiently taxed our time and strength. We were obliged to learn and reproduce exactly the traditional tones, gestures, and actions associated with any particular part.”

“What is your opinion of foreign methods of acting?”

“I have only seen a few amateurs at the Legations, and cannot form an opinion. But when Mr. Fukuchi and Mr. Osada wrote a little piece in one act, half in French and half in Japanese, in which I had the honour of appearing with Madame Théo, I found it most difficult to sustain my part, since the lady’s words and by-play were alike mysterious.” A grim smile accompanied this souvenir of that comedietta, “The Green-eyed Monster.”

“I suppose you have improved in many ways on the old-fashioned style of acting?”