The natural, beauty of Japan has undoubtedly fostered the æsthetic taste inborn with the Japanese of all classes. High and low, they admire and enjoy intensely the lovely scenes amidst which they dwell. This admiration and enjoyment are strong incentives to their patriotism. It seems to them that their beautiful country must indeed be Kami-no-Kuni, “the Land of the Gods.” To travelled Occidentals, the scenery of Japan suggests, in places, the Norwegian fjords; in others, the smiling shores of the Italian lakes; at some points the coves of Devonshire, the rocky coasts of the Channel Islands, or the pleasant hills of Surrey. That these impressions are correct is proved by the fact that Japanese travellers who visit any of these places never fail to recognise their similarity to some favourite spot in Japan.
The “backbone” of the southern half of the main island and of the whole island of Shikoku consists of rock, principally primitive gneiss and schists; Kiū-shū, Yezo and the northern half of the main island are partly, the Kurile islands—Chishima—entirely, volcanic. Subterranean fires still smoulder in many parts of Japan, many of the mountains being volcanoes, not all of them extinct. Fuji, the glorious cone so dear to the Japanese heart, uplifting its peak 12,365 ft. from the surrounding plain, is a volcano that erupted last in January, 1708. Fifty-one volcanoes, such as Asama and Bandai-san in Eastern Japan, Aso-san in Kiū-shū, Koma-ga-také in Yezo, have been active in recent years, some of them, especially Bandai-san, with disastrous results. Nor do only volcanoes threaten danger to the inhabitants of Japan: earthquakes are frequent—about 500 shocks yearly—and sometimes appallingly destructive of life and property.
The great earthquake in the Gifu region, in the central provinces of the main island, on October 28th, 1891, wrecked two populous towns—Gifu and Ōgaki—completely destroyed two smaller ones—Kasamatsu and Takegahana—killed about ten thousand people, and caused more or less severe wounds to nearly twenty thousand. In Japanese earthquakes, a great part of the destruction arises from the innumerable fires that break out when the flimsy houses—mostly of wood, with paper partitions, in sliding frames, between the rooms—collapse through the shock, scattering the glowing charcoal from the kitchens amidst heaps of highly inflammable materials. Earth-tremors bring not only fiery ruin in their train; they cause at times upheavals of the sea that work stupendous havoc. On the evening of June 15th, 1896, the north-eastern coasts of the main island were overwhelmed by a so-called “tidal wave.” The sea, impelled probably by a seismic convulsion on the bed of the Northern Pacific, rose in a wave of towering height and, rushing inland with terrific speed, engulfed whole districts. More than 28,000 lives were lost, and more than 17,000 people were injured.
Sea-girt gateway of Miya-ima, a famous Shintō shrine
The Sacred Bridge at Nikko
The White Co.
View of Fuji-yama across Motosu