In Aichi prefecture I was asked to plant trees (persimmons) in the
grounds of three temples or shrines and on the land of several
farmers. In an exposed position on a hill-top I found persimmons being
grown on a system under which the landlord provided the land, trees
and manures and the farmer the labour, and the produce was equally
divided.

The cryptomeria at one of the shrines I visited were of great age. All
of them had lost their tops by lightning. It cannot be easy for those
who have never seen cryptomeria or the redwoods of California to
realise the impression made by dark giant trees that have stood before
some shrine for generations. At the approach to the shrine of which I
speak there were venerable wooden statues. I recall one figure carved
in wood as full of life as that of the famous Egyptian headman.

The aged chief priest, who was assisted by two younger priests, kindly
invited me to take part in a Shinto service. First, I ceremonially
washed my hands and rinsed my mouth. Then, having ascended the steps,
my shoes were removed for me so that my hands should not be defiled.
On entering the shrine I knelt opposite the young priests, one of whom
brought me the usual evergreen bough with paper streamers. On
receiving it I rose to my feet, passed through the beautiful building
and advanced to what I may call, for the lack of a more accurate term,
the altar table. On this table, which, as is usual in Shinto
ceremonies, was of new white wood following the ancient design, I laid
the offering. Then I bowed and gave the customary three smart
hand-claps which summon the attention of the deity of the shrine, and
bowed again. On returning to my former kneeling-place one of the
priests offered me _saké_ and a small piece of dried fish in