August 6, 2025 • 16 mins
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
The Gift of Gold Lacquer by William Elliott Griffiths. A
thousand years ago, the Great Buddha's Gaspel came to Japan
to make the roth people gentle, and the cruel kind
human beings at once began to care for animals. The
nobles and komo folks alike were glad to hear the
(00:20):
good news and learn how to help one another and
the dumb brutes. The Empress ordered that a pagoda should
be built in every province, and a temple in every village.
So happy was every one to see a rise in
his village, so grand a building, that even the poisoned
girls helped in the work. Some carried stones and wood,
(00:42):
others brought clay and plaster. Even the ladies cut off
their long black hair and hand it made into ropes
to haul the materials. The big tree trucks cut into
the forest were drawn to the carpenters, who smoothed and
shaped them into temple columns. Soon, in many a village,
tall and stately edifices rose high above the thatched cottages
(01:06):
of the humble folks. The long sloping roof, instead of
being covered with ry straw, was handsomely shingled, and the
new timber gave out a sweet smell. When the rich
pole was put up, the builders set a bow and
arrow at each end, hoping to shoot and kill any
demons that should come near. But they were most afraid
(01:28):
of fire that might burn down the building and thus
make all their work come to nought. So at the
end of the gable they fixed the great Devil's tile,
on which were molded figures off the water weed to
put out the flames. To guard against sparks that might
fly out of the chimneys of houses near by, they
(01:49):
planted rows of tall trees to act as a wall
of defense. Thus they hoped to keep Lord Buddha's temples
standing for a thousand years. Then the men that could
carve and paint and work metal came up from the
capital city to make the inside glorious to behold soon
(02:10):
the lights and the incense, the shining brass, the burning
candles and brilliant out of furniture, the loft columns made
of whole, careful trees, the ceiling of green wood, the
silking rows of writing on the reading desk, the intoning
of the secret books, and the chanting of the priests,
who were dressed in silk robes, made a splendid sight
(02:32):
and a charming sound. Isn't it delightful? Said one wrinkled
old grannie. I feel quite young again, for I can
see and hear and smell as never before. Yes, such
music and sweet odors, and such glory to look upon
I never expected to see, said her daughter, who was
(02:55):
a mother and had brought her boy Toko with her.
For the temple itself, it was full of grown people
and children are admiring everything. They felt grateful for the
good doctrine taught by the learned priests, some of whom
had traveled across the sea from Korea. The first sermon
(03:15):
of the bounds was on being kind to all creatures.
It was our duty, said he, to love even the
worms and the crickets, all the beasts of the field,
and the burns of the air. Also rejoiced that Buddhist
doctrine had come to the Mikado's realm. For now human
beings were kinder than ever to their dumb friends with
(03:37):
wings or on four feet. Even during the winter, no
bird froze or deer starved. Farmers were patient, even with
the monkeys, that they were so numerous as to be
mischievous in the field. The white heron could walk unfrightened
in the furrows behind the plowmen, picking up its food joyfully.
(03:59):
The simple folk were easily pleased, for as yet there
was no guilding or varnish of fine art, but only
plain wood and metal. There was no gold leaf or
shiny remedion or violet lacquer. Yet rough and newd enough
the secret building might seem to traveler, for it could
(04:21):
not compare for a moment with gorgeous temples in India,
the gilded ceilings of Korea, or the porcelain pagodas of China.
Happy though they were, yet every one of the villagers
wondered how they could make their temple still more lovely.
Some even dreamed that night of the fowl of pagodas
(04:43):
of which their bounds took them. One farmer, who was
very kind to the cranes, and who carefully refrained from
ever killing even an insect, was specially eager to transfer
the sheen of the beetles and the gloss of feathers
to common wood, And long he pondered on how to
do it. He would have the brilliancy of the dragonfly
(05:06):
cover up the nutmarks and the metallic luster of the
pheasant wings on plain pine. But how to compass The
mystery filled him with care. One night, very with his
work in the rice field, as he slept, a beautiful
white bird with black tips on its wing feathers appeared
(05:28):
to him and talked about making the tables and altars
glossy and rich in color. I am the spirit of
the lacquer tree that grows in the deep forest. I
poisoned a man that wound me. My truck has a
(05:49):
milk white sap, tap it and steer up the juice
in a wooden vessel. Than when it becomes thick, apply
it to wood. Then the temple columns will shine like jet.
Be wise, and don't last. When I tell you a secret,
(06:13):
it must dry in a wet atmosphere. Guard yourself, for
there is danger. Put not your hands in their liquid. Persevere,
be clean, farewell. The farmer woke up and wondered what
(06:33):
all this meant, But tired and sleepy, his eyes were
soon closed again. Not till the ravern crocked to till
the sun was risen did he wake up again. Then
Remembering the vision, he sail it fourth axe in hand
with his boy, who carried a pail into the forest,
(06:56):
come into a tree. He gave it a blow, and
out trickled a white juice. It made his nose and
eyes tingle, but collecting a pythe or so of the stuff,
he took it home, and, after agitating it in a platter,
left it quiet over bit. The next morning, everybody in
the house was growlly, noses, eyes and lips smartered. What
(07:21):
was the cause? The now dark fluid was not yet
suspected another knight, and their mouths and eyelids felt as
if hornets had stuck them. On the third day, with
their eyes nearly closed, they fumbled about like blind folks.
For the first time they suspected the tree juice, now
(07:45):
very black and ugly, were tempered to throw it away. Nevertheless,
those suffering the farmer lead and father kept a temper
and were kinder than ever to the birds in the field.
At night, in his dreams, this searit of the tree,
in the form of a white crane again appeared to
the farmer. Try again, and be not discouraged for your
(08:11):
faithfulness in keeping the tree juice. Even when you were poisoned.
I shall reveal to you another secret, even that of colors,
and to your son that of gold. This art shall
not be borne in the fire, like that of the
(08:32):
clay which makes cup and vase. I shall show you
what water can do. Go forth again, have more patience.
They obeyed, and this time the father brought also his
fair daughter. Behold the three, armed with ax, stept spellt
(08:55):
and bucket, going forth a on the bamboo and into
the forest, Selecting a fat trunk the tree, arranged themselves
in line a few yards apart. Then, praying first to
the spirit of the tree, and begging pardon for wounding
its body, the men ran forward and gave a resounding whack,
(09:17):
which seemed to stun the tree and make it weep.
Drops fell like tears. At the same moment, there rose
out of the top branches the same white crane which
he had seen in his dream. The memory of the stinging,
poisonous sap made the boy hesitate to rush forward and
(09:38):
insert the spout so that the sap should not be wasted.
As if to encourage the lad the crane flew down,
lower and lower, and then in circles round the boy's head,
so plucking up courage, he dashed up and squeezed his
spout into the gaping wound made by the eggs. Nearly black.
(10:00):
Minded by the acrid fumes, father and son, at a distance,
waited to see the girl tripped forth bravely with the bucket.
Only once circling of the encourage. A crane around the
maiden's head was necessary to give her nerve in a
moment into the vessel, which she placed on the ground.
(10:20):
The white sap fell drip dreep, like milk. It issued
until the bucket was nearly full, but she and her
father and brother kept at a distance. They waited at
home until the stars went out and gone again, before
approaching the tree again to bring in the twenty four
hours yield. Let us this morning make ourselves pure by
(10:44):
clansing ourselves carefully, said the father, as the tree spirit said.
Fresh from the bath and in clean clothes, they sealed
forth and brought home their price. Night after night, the
where the robbid spirit of the tree spoke to both
father and son in vision, each time commanding their faithfulness. Slowly,
(11:10):
day by day, the suddenness and poisonous effect of the
fresh juice now made into shiny lacquia passed off. They
learned to apply itskillfully, clothing common wood with a hot,
glossy armor. Their wooden bowls, set to dry on shelves
sopped with a wet cloth became like glazed porcelain, and
(11:32):
their little breakfast table like enammo. Yet the mystery of
gloss was not gaining fire, but by water. With each
opening of the morning Glory, the elder gained fresh patience,
and the younger moiskile. Neither heat nor cold salt or
sour hurt. Lacquer and common wood seemed like metal out
(11:58):
of paper. Covered with this hot wine. Laid on in
many coats, the warriors made coats as tough as iron.
It was now the boy's turning his dreams to be
told fresh secrets from the screen. He learned to mix
the Vanish with many colors. When he laid away his
(12:18):
work in moisture, the luster became dazzling brilliant. One day,
adding gold leaf, he found the noble mixture made extraordinary beauty.
So still keeping his secret, he traveled to Nada, the capital,
and learned drawing painting from the Korean artists. Tokonell became
(12:41):
a decorate of temples and a make of aut of furniture.
He fashioned writing boxes for poetry parties and asks for
the learned monks. On a cabinet of drawers for his mother,
he drew and finished in gold lecquer a picture of
his native village and the fields and hills towards the west.
(13:04):
The fame of his skill reached the ears of the Emperor,
who invited him to make explained picnic box, for which
he paid him eight thousand rows of silk. A tray
for the Empress was the wonder of all in the palace.
With gold leaf and lacquer, the village temple now looked
(13:26):
like an imperial shrine. Pilgrims traveled from all over the
Empire to admire its explainer and take back home stories
of a beauty they had never dreamed of before. Yet,
all this time, even when the golden wind bells tinkling
in the mouths of the phoenixes that hung along the
(13:47):
temple eaves, seemed to sing his fame in the evening Breezel.
Did not the artist forget the tree spirit that first
told him to be pure and to persevere. But one night,
in a dream when sleeping under the old home roof,
the silverly white crane again appeared to him, yet this
(14:09):
time silent, with no message. Speak, said the once Farmerland,
now a great master who had many pupils in art.
How can I express my grateful heart for your kindness
to me? I have fame, honor, and wealth, besides the
joy of serving the Lord Buddha, in making his temples
(14:29):
beautiful and the Emperor's palace glorious. Besides carry for my
old father and mother, What may I do for thee
my guardian spirit, Lord Buddha will ever incline the children
of Japan to treat gently the snowy heron and the
silk white cranes for ever. But do you and your
(14:52):
successors on the panel, the tray, the screen, and the
writing box, make the crane and heron comrades of the
gold liqueered mountains and trees, the landscape and the rice fields.
Let them preen their feathers, or soar in the air,
(15:15):
or bask in the red disk of the morning sun,
or amid the curling spray of the ocean, disport themselves
in joy. Thus, let all the world for a hobborn's
eye or a thousand generations be grateful for the gift
(15:37):
of the lacquer tree. And to this day it is
appointed that dull clay can win a glistering robe only
the kiln. While the tree jews finds its body in moisture,
shining gold and brilliant colors rise out of the fire,
while lacquer owes its richest luster to the mystery of water.
(15:59):
Even yet alike, on the landscape warmed by the sun,
and on the picture rocked by the artist, the snowy
heron steps daily, and the white crane flies to the mountain.
So shall it ever be in every lasting Great Japan,
and of the gift of gold lecquer
The Gift of Gold Lacquer by William Elliott Griffiths. A
thousand years ago, the Great Buddha's Gaspel came to Japan
to make the roth people gentle, and the cruel kind
human beings at once began to care for animals. The
nobles and komo folks alike were glad to hear the
(00:20):
good news and learn how to help one another and
the dumb brutes. The Empress ordered that a pagoda should
be built in every province, and a temple in every village.
So happy was every one to see a rise in
his village, so grand a building, that even the poisoned
girls helped in the work. Some carried stones and wood,
(00:42):
others brought clay and plaster. Even the ladies cut off
their long black hair and hand it made into ropes
to haul the materials. The big tree trucks cut into
the forest were drawn to the carpenters, who smoothed and
shaped them into temple columns. Soon, in many a village,
tall and stately edifices rose high above the thatched cottages
(01:06):
of the humble folks. The long sloping roof, instead of
being covered with ry straw, was handsomely shingled, and the
new timber gave out a sweet smell. When the rich
pole was put up, the builders set a bow and
arrow at each end, hoping to shoot and kill any
demons that should come near. But they were most afraid
(01:28):
of fire that might burn down the building and thus
make all their work come to nought. So at the
end of the gable they fixed the great Devil's tile,
on which were molded figures off the water weed to
put out the flames. To guard against sparks that might
fly out of the chimneys of houses near by, they
(01:49):
planted rows of tall trees to act as a wall
of defense. Thus they hoped to keep Lord Buddha's temples
standing for a thousand years. Then the men that could
carve and paint and work metal came up from the
capital city to make the inside glorious to behold soon
(02:10):
the lights and the incense, the shining brass, the burning
candles and brilliant out of furniture, the loft columns made
of whole, careful trees, the ceiling of green wood, the
silking rows of writing on the reading desk, the intoning
of the secret books, and the chanting of the priests,
who were dressed in silk robes, made a splendid sight
(02:32):
and a charming sound. Isn't it delightful? Said one wrinkled
old grannie. I feel quite young again, for I can
see and hear and smell as never before. Yes, such
music and sweet odors, and such glory to look upon
I never expected to see, said her daughter, who was
(02:55):
a mother and had brought her boy Toko with her.
For the temple itself, it was full of grown people
and children are admiring everything. They felt grateful for the
good doctrine taught by the learned priests, some of whom
had traveled across the sea from Korea. The first sermon
(03:15):
of the bounds was on being kind to all creatures.
It was our duty, said he, to love even the
worms and the crickets, all the beasts of the field,
and the burns of the air. Also rejoiced that Buddhist
doctrine had come to the Mikado's realm. For now human
beings were kinder than ever to their dumb friends with
(03:37):
wings or on four feet. Even during the winter, no
bird froze or deer starved. Farmers were patient, even with
the monkeys, that they were so numerous as to be
mischievous in the field. The white heron could walk unfrightened
in the furrows behind the plowmen, picking up its food joyfully.
(03:59):
The simple folk were easily pleased, for as yet there
was no guilding or varnish of fine art, but only
plain wood and metal. There was no gold leaf or
shiny remedion or violet lacquer. Yet rough and newd enough
the secret building might seem to traveler, for it could
(04:21):
not compare for a moment with gorgeous temples in India,
the gilded ceilings of Korea, or the porcelain pagodas of China.
Happy though they were, yet every one of the villagers
wondered how they could make their temple still more lovely.
Some even dreamed that night of the fowl of pagodas
(04:43):
of which their bounds took them. One farmer, who was
very kind to the cranes, and who carefully refrained from
ever killing even an insect, was specially eager to transfer
the sheen of the beetles and the gloss of feathers
to common wood, And long he pondered on how to
do it. He would have the brilliancy of the dragonfly
(05:06):
cover up the nutmarks and the metallic luster of the
pheasant wings on plain pine. But how to compass The
mystery filled him with care. One night, very with his
work in the rice field, as he slept, a beautiful
white bird with black tips on its wing feathers appeared
(05:28):
to him and talked about making the tables and altars
glossy and rich in color. I am the spirit of
the lacquer tree that grows in the deep forest. I
poisoned a man that wound me. My truck has a
(05:49):
milk white sap, tap it and steer up the juice
in a wooden vessel. Than when it becomes thick, apply
it to wood. Then the temple columns will shine like jet.
Be wise, and don't last. When I tell you a secret,
(06:13):
it must dry in a wet atmosphere. Guard yourself, for
there is danger. Put not your hands in their liquid. Persevere,
be clean, farewell. The farmer woke up and wondered what
(06:33):
all this meant, But tired and sleepy, his eyes were
soon closed again. Not till the ravern crocked to till
the sun was risen did he wake up again. Then
Remembering the vision, he sail it fourth axe in hand
with his boy, who carried a pail into the forest,
(06:56):
come into a tree. He gave it a blow, and
out trickled a white juice. It made his nose and
eyes tingle, but collecting a pythe or so of the stuff,
he took it home, and, after agitating it in a platter,
left it quiet over bit. The next morning, everybody in
the house was growlly, noses, eyes and lips smartered. What
(07:21):
was the cause? The now dark fluid was not yet
suspected another knight, and their mouths and eyelids felt as
if hornets had stuck them. On the third day, with
their eyes nearly closed, they fumbled about like blind folks.
For the first time they suspected the tree juice, now
(07:45):
very black and ugly, were tempered to throw it away. Nevertheless,
those suffering the farmer lead and father kept a temper
and were kinder than ever to the birds in the field.
At night, in his dreams, this searit of the tree,
in the form of a white crane again appeared to
the farmer. Try again, and be not discouraged for your
(08:11):
faithfulness in keeping the tree juice. Even when you were poisoned.
I shall reveal to you another secret, even that of colors,
and to your son that of gold. This art shall
not be borne in the fire, like that of the
(08:32):
clay which makes cup and vase. I shall show you
what water can do. Go forth again, have more patience.
They obeyed, and this time the father brought also his
fair daughter. Behold the three, armed with ax, stept spellt
(08:55):
and bucket, going forth a on the bamboo and into
the forest, Selecting a fat trunk the tree, arranged themselves
in line a few yards apart. Then, praying first to
the spirit of the tree, and begging pardon for wounding
its body, the men ran forward and gave a resounding whack,
(09:17):
which seemed to stun the tree and make it weep.
Drops fell like tears. At the same moment, there rose
out of the top branches the same white crane which
he had seen in his dream. The memory of the stinging,
poisonous sap made the boy hesitate to rush forward and
(09:38):
insert the spout so that the sap should not be wasted.
As if to encourage the lad the crane flew down,
lower and lower, and then in circles round the boy's head,
so plucking up courage, he dashed up and squeezed his
spout into the gaping wound made by the eggs. Nearly black.
(10:00):
Minded by the acrid fumes, father and son, at a distance,
waited to see the girl tripped forth bravely with the bucket.
Only once circling of the encourage. A crane around the
maiden's head was necessary to give her nerve in a
moment into the vessel, which she placed on the ground.
(10:20):
The white sap fell drip dreep, like milk. It issued
until the bucket was nearly full, but she and her
father and brother kept at a distance. They waited at
home until the stars went out and gone again, before
approaching the tree again to bring in the twenty four
hours yield. Let us this morning make ourselves pure by
(10:44):
clansing ourselves carefully, said the father, as the tree spirit said.
Fresh from the bath and in clean clothes, they sealed
forth and brought home their price. Night after night, the
where the robbid spirit of the tree spoke to both
father and son in vision, each time commanding their faithfulness. Slowly,
(11:10):
day by day, the suddenness and poisonous effect of the
fresh juice now made into shiny lacquia passed off. They
learned to apply itskillfully, clothing common wood with a hot,
glossy armor. Their wooden bowls, set to dry on shelves
sopped with a wet cloth became like glazed porcelain, and
(11:32):
their little breakfast table like enammo. Yet the mystery of
gloss was not gaining fire, but by water. With each
opening of the morning Glory, the elder gained fresh patience,
and the younger moiskile. Neither heat nor cold salt or
sour hurt. Lacquer and common wood seemed like metal out
(11:58):
of paper. Covered with this hot wine. Laid on in
many coats, the warriors made coats as tough as iron.
It was now the boy's turning his dreams to be
told fresh secrets from the screen. He learned to mix
the Vanish with many colors. When he laid away his
(12:18):
work in moisture, the luster became dazzling brilliant. One day,
adding gold leaf, he found the noble mixture made extraordinary beauty.
So still keeping his secret, he traveled to Nada, the capital,
and learned drawing painting from the Korean artists. Tokonell became
(12:41):
a decorate of temples and a make of aut of furniture.
He fashioned writing boxes for poetry parties and asks for
the learned monks. On a cabinet of drawers for his mother,
he drew and finished in gold lecquer a picture of
his native village and the fields and hills towards the west.
(13:04):
The fame of his skill reached the ears of the Emperor,
who invited him to make explained picnic box, for which
he paid him eight thousand rows of silk. A tray
for the Empress was the wonder of all in the palace.
With gold leaf and lacquer, the village temple now looked
(13:26):
like an imperial shrine. Pilgrims traveled from all over the
Empire to admire its explainer and take back home stories
of a beauty they had never dreamed of before. Yet,
all this time, even when the golden wind bells tinkling
in the mouths of the phoenixes that hung along the
(13:47):
temple eaves, seemed to sing his fame in the evening Breezel.
Did not the artist forget the tree spirit that first
told him to be pure and to persevere. But one night,
in a dream when sleeping under the old home roof,
the silverly white crane again appeared to him, yet this
(14:09):
time silent, with no message. Speak, said the once Farmerland,
now a great master who had many pupils in art.
How can I express my grateful heart for your kindness
to me? I have fame, honor, and wealth, besides the
joy of serving the Lord Buddha, in making his temples
(14:29):
beautiful and the Emperor's palace glorious. Besides carry for my
old father and mother, What may I do for thee
my guardian spirit, Lord Buddha will ever incline the children
of Japan to treat gently the snowy heron and the
silk white cranes for ever. But do you and your
(14:52):
successors on the panel, the tray, the screen, and the
writing box, make the crane and heron comrades of the
gold liqueered mountains and trees, the landscape and the rice fields.
Let them preen their feathers, or soar in the air,
(15:15):
or bask in the red disk of the morning sun,
or amid the curling spray of the ocean, disport themselves
in joy. Thus, let all the world for a hobborn's
eye or a thousand generations be grateful for the gift
(15:37):
of the lacquer tree. And to this day it is
appointed that dull clay can win a glistering robe only
the kiln. While the tree jews finds its body in moisture,
shining gold and brilliant colors rise out of the fire,
while lacquer owes its richest luster to the mystery of water.
(15:59):
Even yet alike, on the landscape warmed by the sun,
and on the picture rocked by the artist, the snowy
heron steps daily, and the white crane flies to the mountain.
So shall it ever be in every lasting Great Japan,
and of the gift of gold lecquer
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