by his enemies and unjustly done to death in 649. Less than fifteen years later the Emperor Tenji (662-671) found it necessary to extirpate the Soga family, and to call to his assistance the family of the Fujiwara, who have contrived to hold their great position, in one form or another, down to the present day. Tenji Tenno outlined the great Taihoryo Code of Laws, which, promulgated in a subsequent reign, in A.D. 701, remained in force, with but few modifications, right down to the commencement of the Meiji era.

The Nara period also saw the publication of the two great chronicles of ancient Japan--the "Kojiki" and the "Nihongi," published, the one in 712, and containing the history of Japan from the creation to the close of the reign of the Empress Suiko (A.D. 628); the other, published in 722, and covering very much the same ground. In estimating their value, it must be remembered that they are chronicles and not histories, and that, even so, the writers were obviously inspired with a desire to assert for Japan an antiquity, and consequently a dignity, equal to that claimed by the empire of the haughty Tangs. The lives of early sovereigns have therefore been in some cases extended beyond all bounds of probability, and

there are inconsistencies (not to say falsifications) which modern writers (even Japanese among them) have not failed to note. There is practically no credible history of Japan and Japanese events before the introduction of Buddhism.

For the rest, the age was uncritical, superstitious, and therefore credulous. When the Kegon Scriptures were being expounded in the palace a pink cloud hovered over the building, which was taken to denote the presence of a celestial audience. A priest in the mountains of Tamba, who served a temple dedicated to Kwannon, was snowed up one winter's day, and, being cut off from access to the outer world for nearly a week, was in danger of starvation. As he prayed he heard a sound in the veranda, and, going out, found a joint of venison placed there. He ate it and lived, though by eating it he broke the laws of Buddhism. Some time after this, whilst cleaning his temple, he discovered the giver of the venison. From the thigh of the statue of Kwannon had been cut a piece of--wood, shall we call it? or flesh?--the exact size of the venison that had been placed on the veranda. The deity himself, at the cost of a painful self-sacrifice, had saved the life of his worshipper.

Wonder was in the air, and therefore when the Goddess of Ise proclaimed her identity with Amitabha, or Vairoc'ana, it was believed; and when the strange tales of the "Kojiki" came out, they also were accepted in faith. It is easy to sneer at the ages of credulity; it would be wiser, perhaps, to look back at the strange stories current in Europe during the same period, which our forefathers