Kokoro

Kokoro, by Lafcadio Hearn

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Title: Kokoro Japanese Inner Life Hints
Author: Lafcadio Hearn
Release Date: September, 2005 [EBook #8882] [Yes, we are more than
one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on August 20,

2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KOKORO
***

Produced by Liz Warren.

THE papers composing this volume treat of the inner rather than of the
outer life of Japan,--for which reason they have been grouped under the
title Kokoro (heart). Written with the above character, this word
signifies also mind, in the emotional sense; spirit; courage; resolve;
sentiment; affection; and inner meaning,--just as we say in English,
"the heart of things."
KOBE September 15, 1895.
CONTENTS
I. AT A RAILWAY STATION II. THE GENIUS Of JAPANESE
CIVILIZATION III. A STREET SINGER IV. FROM A TRAVELING
DIARY V. THE NUN OF THE TEMPLE OF AMIDA VI. AFTER
THE WAR VII. HARU VIII. A GLIMPSE OF TENDENCIES IX. BY
FORCE OF KARMA X. A CONSERVATIVE XI. IN THE
TWILIGHT OF THE GODS XII. THE IDEA OF PRE-EXISTENCE
XIII. IN CHOLERA-TIME XIV. SOME THOUGHTS ABOUT
ANCESTOR-WORSHIP XV. KIMIKO APPENDIX. THREE
POPULAR BALLADS

KOKORO
I
AT A RAILWAY STATION
Seventh day of the sixth Month;-- twenty-sixth of Meiji.
Yesterday a telegram from Fukuoka announced that a desperate
criminal captured there would be brought for trial to Kumamoto to-day,
on the train due at noon. A Kumamoto policeman had gone to Fukuoka
to take the prisoner in charge.
Four years ago a strong thief entered some house by night in the Street
of the Wrestlers, terrified and bound the inmates, and carried away a
number of valuable things. Tracked skillfully by the police, he was
captured within twenty-four hours,--even before he could dispose of his
plunder. But as he was being taken to the police station he burst his
bonds, snatched the sword of his captor, killed him, and escaped.
Nothing more was heard of him until last week.
Then a Kumamoto detective, happening to visit the Fukuoka prison,
saw among the toilers a face that had been four years photographed
upon his brain. "Who is that man?" he asked the guard. "A thief," was
the reply,--"registered here as Kusabe." The detective walked up to the
prisoner and said:--
"Kusabe is not your name. Nomura Teichi, you are needed in
Kumamoto for murder." The felon confessed all.
I went with a great throng of people to witness the arrival at the station.
I expected to hear and see anger; I even feared possibilities of violence.
The murdered officer had been much liked; his relatives would
certainly be among the spectators; and a Kumamoto crowd is not very
gentle. I also thought to find many police on duty. My anticipations
were wrong.
The train halted in the usual scene of hurry and noise,--scurry and

clatter of passengers wearing geta,--screaming of boys wanting to sell
Japanese newspapers and Kumamoto lemonade. Outside the barrier we
waited for nearly five minutes. Then, pushed through the wicket by a
police-sergeant, the prisoner appeared,--a large wild-looking man, with
head bowed down, and arms fastened behind his back. Prisoner and
guard both halted in front of the wicket; and the people pressed forward
to see--but in silence. Then the officer called out,--
"Sugihara San! Sugihara O-Kibi! is she present?"
A slight small woman standing near me, with a child on her back,
answered, "Hai!" and advanced through the press. This was the widow
of the murdered man; the child she carried was his son. At a wave of
the officer's hand the crowd fell back, so as to leave a clear space about
the prisoner and his escort. In that space the woman with the child
stood facing the murderer. The hush was of death.
Not to the woman at all, but to the child only,