Many readers may already be familiar with the museum located at Iéna in Paris, known as the Musée national des arts asiatiques–Guimet. Originally founded as a museum dedicated to the religions of Asia, it has since transformed into a prominent institution showcasing the diverse arts of Asia. As its name suggests, this French national museum bears the name of its founder, Émile Étienne Guimet (1836–1918), who is also the author of the books featured in this article.
Émile Guimet was born on 26 June 1836 in Lyon, France. His father, Jean-Baptiste Guimet (1795–1871), was an alumnus of one of the Grandes Écoles, École Polytechnique, which was originally located in Paris.[i] Jean-Baptiste is best known for inventing the synthetic ultramarine pigment, known as Bleu Guimet (or Guimet’s Blue), and establishing a successful factory in Lyon, where he amassed considerable wealth as both an entrepreneur and a scientist.
Émile’s mother, Marguerite-Rosalie, came from a distinguished artistic lineage. Her father was the painter Jean-Pierre-Xavier Bidault, and her uncle, Jean-Joseph-Xavier Bidault (1758–1846), enjoyed even greater fame as an artist.[ii] Marguerite-Rosalie herself was a talented painter. From this rich familial background, Émile inherited both a scientific intellect and a refined artistic sensibility. He developed a deep appreciation for the arts—including painting, theatre, and music—while also cultivating a broad intellectual curiosity that extended to literature, philosophy, and comparative religions.[iii]
In 1860, at the age of just 24, Émile succeeded his father as director of the family’s pigment manufacturing enterprise. Alongside his business responsibilities, he began to travel extensively. His first journey abroad took him to Spain in 1862, followed by visits to Germany, Greece, Turkey, and Scandinavia. From November 1865 to the following year, he travelled through Egypt—a trip that proved pivotal in shaping his lifelong interest in archaeology, ancient religions, and the collection of antiquities. It was during this period that he began to establish links with the academic communities.
Guimet’s intellectual pursuits soon expanded beyond Egypt to encompass broader areas of Asia. In 1873, he participated in the inaugural International Congress of Orientalists, held in Paris, where he joined the Far East section. There, he met a number of prominent Japan scholars as well as official delegates from the Japanese government. This event marked a pivotal moment in his intellectual journey, deepening his interest in the religions, cultures, and folk traditions of the East—particularly those of Japan.
While Émile Guimet’s intellectual curiosity about religion may appear, at first glance, to reflect the indulgence of a bourgeois heir pursuing personal interests at the expense of his family’s business, it is crucial to understand that, for Guimet, these scholarly pursuits were deeply intertwined with his sense of social responsibility, in the spirit of noblesse oblige. He believed that the founders of various religions had offered solutions to the societal problems of their time, and he was convinced that by studying these philosophical and spiritual insights, ways to improve contemporary society could be discovered. In his view, the pursuit of knowledge was not just an academic endeavour but a moral duty—one that he saw as essential to contributing to the welfare of society.[iv]
He believed that it was impossible to fully understand religions through written materials alone and that it was essential to visit the places, interact directly with their inhabitants, visit temples or holy sites, and engage in discussions with religious figures. This conviction led Guimet to decide on a journey to Asia. The trip, under the pretext of conducting academic research on Far Eastern religions, was officially sponsored by the French government, which issued a formal dispatch order. At that time in Japan, foreigners were not permitted to travel freely within the country.[v] However, Guimet understood that by having the trip officially sanctioned by the government, his movement within Japan would proceed smoothly. As a result, he approached the French government to arrange this official imperial dispatch.
In 1876, Émile Guimet departed from France, first making his way to New York. From there, he visited the Centennial International Exhibition in Philadelphia, where he met the French artist and illustrator Félix Régamey (1844–1907).[vi] Fluent in English and skilled in drawing, Régamey was hired by Guimet to accompany him on the journey across the Pacific.[vii] They sailed from San Francisco and arrived in Yokohama on 26 August 1876.
Upon landing, Guimet and Régamey began their energetic activities in Japan, using the Grand Hotel in Yokohama as their base. The very next day, they travelled to Tokyo via the newly opened railway. They also took a two-day excursion by rickshaw from Yokohama to Kamakura. From 10 September, they journeyed to Nikko, where they stayed for a week, again by rickshaw. On the way back to Yokohama, they briefly stayed in Tokyo. They then embarked on a two-week journey by rickshaw along the Tokaido to the Kansai region.
On 13-14 October, they visited Ise, and on 16 October, they arrived in Kyoto. Guimet and Régamey stayed in Kyoto for around two weeks before departing from Kobe on 3 November, bound for Shanghai. After conducting religious studies in China, India, and Ceylon (modern-day Sri Lanka), Guimet and Régamey finally returned to France in March 1877.
Although Émile Guimet and Félix Régamey spent little more than two months in Japan, during this brief stay, Guimet collected an impressive array of artifacts: over 600 Buddhist and Shinto statues, more than 300 religious paintings, and more than 1,000 books.[viii] However, his collection was not the result of indiscriminate purchasing; rather, it was the product of meticulous preparation before his arrival. He systematically and thoughtfully selected religious icons, ensuring that his acquisitions were well-organised and coherent.[ix] This careful approach was made possible by the policy of shinbutsu bunri (the separation of Shinto and Buddhism), which had been enacted by the Japanese government at the time. This policy sought to establish Shintoism as the state religion while promoting the exclusion of Buddhism, leading to the haibutsu kishaku (the destruction of Buddhist statues and temples) movement. As a result, countless Buddhist treasures were lost or scattered from temples across Japan.
In addition to collecting artifacts, Guimet also engaged in meaningful discussions with some of the most prominent religious figures in Japan during his stay. He met with the chief priest of the Nikko Toshogu Shrine, the head priest of Sensoji Temple in Asakusa, and the high priest of Ise Shrine, among others. In Kyoto, through the efforts of key figures such as the Ministry of Education official Kuki Ryūichi (1852–1931) and the Kyoto Prefecture Acting Governor Makimura Masanao (1834–1896), a series of seven religious meetings were held. High-ranking monks from various Buddhist sects and Shinto priests answered Guimet’s questions during these meetings.
In March 1877, after returning to France, Émile Guimet submitted his report on the religious survey trip to the French government, and the following year (1878), published a record of his travels to Kamakura under the title Promenades japonaises. He released another travelogue, Promenades japonaises: Tokio-Nikko, detailing his visits to Tokyo and Nikko in 1880. Both books share the same cover design, featuring a depiction of a kimono hanging on a wooden rack. The cover of the Kamakura travelogue is purple, while the Tokyo-Nikko volume has a red cover, with gilt edges on the top, bottom, and fore-edge of the pages. Both books are lavishly illustrated with numerous drawings by Régamey, several of which are in colour. These two volumes, held by the Lisa Sainsbury Library, were both generously donated by Sir Hugh and Lady Cortazzi. The purple-covered volume shows some fading on the spine, otherwise, both books are in good condition.
Through these two volumes, Guimet vividly conveys the profound astonishment and intellectual excitement he felt upon encountering Japan—an experience that far surpassed the images of the country he had previously formed through books and artworks. His enthusiasm and emotional engagement are captured in the pages, offering a lively and evocative account of his travels and their profound impact on him. The volume on Tokyo and Nikko includes an episode recounting their visit to the renowned artist, Kawabe Kyōsai (1831–1889). When Régamey asked for permission to draw a portrait of Kyōsai, the artist instead began to sketch Régamey’s likeness, and the two artists engaged in a reciprocal process of portraiture. These portraits are featured as plates in the book.[x] [xi]
It is worth highlighting the impact this book had on Vincent van Gogh (1853–1890), who had strong interest in Japanese art and culture. One striking example of the influence of this book to van Gogh can be found in the exchange of self-portraits with his friend Paul Gauguin (1848–1903), which mirrors the “portrait exchange” between Régamey and Kawanabe Kyōsai. The self-portrait painted by Van Gogh, now housed in Harvard University, bears a notable resemblance to Régamey’s portrait of Kyōsai.[xii] Inaga Shigemi suggests that the strong similarity between Van Gogh’s self-portrait and Kyōsai’s portrait featured in this publication is unlikely to be coincidental, implying a direct influence on Van Gogh.[xiii]
Harvard Art Museums/Fogg Museum,Bequest from the Collection of Maurice Wertheim, Class of 1906, Photo © President and Fellows of Harvard College, 1951.65.
It appears that the third volume, dedicated to the Tōkaidō Road, and the fourth volume, originally planned to cover Kyoto, were part of the original conception for the series.[xiv] Indeed, while the highlight of Guimet’s journey was the series of meetings with the heads of various Buddhist sects in Kyoto, the second volume ends abruptly just before the journey along the Tōkaidō begins, leaving readers with no continuation. This gap is difficult to reconcile, but one could plausibly attribute it to Guimet’s demanding schedule. The first volume was published in 1878, the same year as the Paris Exposition Universelle at the Trocadéro, where Guimet’s collection of Japanese artefacts, alongside Régamey’s paintings from Japan, was exhibited. In the following year, Guimet was preoccupied with the opening of his museum in Lyon, while also preparing for the publication of the second volume, due in 1880.[xv] Despite these numerous commitments, his sustained enthusiasm for the subject, coupled with his highly active and determined nature, would have made the completion of the third and fourth volumes entirely plausible had he chosen to pursue them.
Frédéric Girard argues that, as a result of the discussions in Kyoto, Guimet reached the conclusion that he had failed to obtain the key to unlocking the concept of Eastern religions, and consequently, he abandoned the translation of the responses he had received from Japanese monks and Shinto priests.[xvi] To put it more simply, this reflects the underdevelopment of Eastern philosophical and religious studies in Europe during the late 19th century, which left Guimet unable to fully interpret the exchanges he had in Japan. However, according to Masako Hasegawa-Sockeel, former Japanese librarian at the Guimet Museum, it may not have been so much a matter of Guimet’s lack of understanding, but rather the underdeveloped state of religious studies in Japan.[xvii] Japanese monks and priests may have been unable to offer logical, academic explanations that would have made sense to Guimet, given the undeveloped state of religious scholarship in Japan at the time. Inaga Shigemi points out that Guimet’s questions, based on a Christian framework, were “difficult for the Buddhist and Shinto clergy to grasp,” given that their belief systems were fundamentally different from those of Western religions, resulting in dialogues that were often misaligned and incongruous.[xviii] This serves as an episode that illustrates the challenges of cross-cultural exchange between fundamentally different intellectual traditions.
Although Guimet may not have reached any definitive conclusions through the religious dialogues in Kyoto—and the projected third and fourth volumes of Promenades japonaises were never realised—he did not abandon his quest. Instead, he continued to pursue a deeper understanding of religions beyond the Christian tradition with enduring intellectual commitment. His legacy lies not in the volumes left unwritten, but in the foundations, he helped to establish for the academic study of East Asian religions in Europe.
Akira Hirano
Librarian, Sainsbury Institute
[i] According to Chisato Sugita, the Grandes Écoles are “higher education institutions in France, established in the early eighteenth century for the purpose of training army generals and elite engineers who would support the post-revolutionary imperial government”. These institutions are fundamentally distinct from typical universities in terms of educational standards and social status. (Chisato Sugita, “Grandes Écoles fuzoku toshokan,”Journal of information processing and management 52, no. 4 (2009): 232, https://www.jstage.jst.go.jp/article/johokanri/52/4/52_4_232/_pdf/-char/ja.)
[ii] The National Gallery in London holds a work by Jean-Joseph-Xavier Bidauld in its collection.
[iii] Frédéric Girard, “The approach of a European towards Japanese religions: the dialogues of Emile Guimet with Japanese monks and priests,” Nichibunken Forum Lectures no. 214 (2010): 2.
[iv] Keiko Omoto, Nihon no kaikoku : Emīru Gime aru Furansujin no mita Meiji (Sōgensha, 1996).
[v] The Edo Shogunate, which had pushed through the opening of the country against the strong opposition of the pro-exclusion faction, introduced regulations to restrict the entry of foreigners into domestic markets in order to protect local commerce. These regulations limited the freedom of movement for foreigners to a 40 km radius outside foreign settlements. This law was followed after the Meiji Restoration and remained in effect until 1899 (Meiji 32). (Katsuya Uenishi, “Meiji shoki no Kanagawa-ken ni okeru gaikokujin yūho kitei sokuryō,” Geographical review of Japan 81, no. 8 (2008): 660)
In 1874, new rules were introduced allowing foreigners to travel domestically for purposes such as medical treatment or academic research. Guimet made use of this relaxation of restrictions to travel across Japan.
[vi] Félix Régamey was a painter and illustrator born in Paris. Both his older brother (who died prematurely) and his younger brother were also artists. Régamey contributed illustrations to newspapers and magazines, gaining acclaim for his delicate and expressive style. His fascination with Japanese art began long before Japonisme gained widespread popularity in Paris.
In 1871, he moved to London, where he worked for publications such as The Illustrated London News. It was during this time that he first met Guimet. Two years later, in 1873, he relocated to the United States before eventually returning to France after his trip to Asia with Guimet.
[vii] Today, with the ease of smartphones, capturing images and videos has become second nature. However, in those days, artists and illustrators often took on the role of photographers, being specifically commissioned to document visual scenes.
[viii] Keisuke Aoki, 1876 Bonjūru Kanagawa: Furansujin no mita Meiji shoki no Kanagawa (Yūrindō, 1977), 206.
[ix] Jérôme Ducor has pointed out that Émile Guimet appears to have used Butsuzō-zui (Illustrated Encyclopaedia of Buddhist Images) as a kind of ‘shopping list’ for his collection of Buddhist sculptures during his trip to Japan. (Jérôme Ducor, “Buddhist Japonisme: Emile Guimet and the Butsuzō-zui,” in Japanese collections in European museums, 5, ed. Josef KJreiner (Bier’sche Verlagsanstalt, 2016), 31)
[x] According to Kyōsai’s granddaughter, Kawanabe Kusumi, the comparison between the portraits of Régamey and Kyōsai seems to clearly favour Kyōsai, as Kyōsai’s portrait of Régamey is placed in colour at the forefront of the volume, while Régamey’s portrait of Kyōsai appears in black and white later in the book. This arrangement suggests that Guimet implicitly recognised Kyōsai’s superiority in this ‘portrait contest’. (Kusumi Kawanabe, “Kyōsai to seiyōjin: sono kōryō to kiroku,” Kenkō chōju netto, accessed October 1, 2025, https://www.tyojyu.or.jp/net/essay/kawanabe-kyosai/kyousaitoseiyojin.html.)
[xi] A few days after Émile Guimet and his companions visited Kawanabe Kyōsai, the artist paid a return visit to Guimet’s hotel, bringing with him a painting he had created specifically for Guimet. Aware of Guimet’s research on Eastern religions, Kyōsai chose to depict the Buddha. Haruko Miyazaki suggests that Kyōsai may have chosen this subject in an attempt to convey to Guimet the existence of a Buddha iconography—specifically, the image of the ascetic Buddha—that was not included in the book, i.e. Butsuzō-zui, which Guimet had used as a reference in his collection of Eastern religious art. (Haruko Miyazaki, “A study of Shaka Nyorai by Kawanabe Kyosai,” Bijutsushi Ronshū no. 18. (2018): 97)
As noted in Demon of Painting: the art of Kawanabe Kyōsai (Timothy Clark, (British Museum Press, 1993), 77), the portrayal of the Buddha’s features may subtly incorporate personal elements of Guimet’s appearance.
The painting is now housed at the Musée Guimet.
[xii] When painting this self-portrait, Van Gogh is said to have even gone so far as to ‘raise his eyebrows’ and try to emulate a Japanese appearance, according to Inaga Shigemi. (Shigemi Inaga, “Émile Guimet and Félix Régamey, Their trip to Japan in the context of the “Abolition of the Buddhism” 1876-1878,” Journal of Kyoto Seika University no. 55 (2022): 5).
[xiii] Shigemi Inaga, “Émile Guimet and Félix Régamey, Their trip to Japan in the context of the “Abolition of the Buddhism” 1876-1878,” 5.
[xiv] Keisuke Aoki, “Kaisetsu,” in Gime Tōkyō Nikkō sansaku Regame Nihon sobyō kikō (Yūshōdō Shuppan, 1983), 285.
[xv] Guimet first established a museum dedicated to Eastern religion in Lyon, a building that still stands today. This building was later replicated in Paris, where it opened on 20 November 1889, with the French President, Marie François Sadi Carnot (1837–1894), in attendance. (Jean Francois Jarrige, “Greeting,” in Yomigaeru Pari Banpaku to rittai mandara ten: Emīru Gime ga mita Nihon no hotoke shinkō (Seibu Hyakkaten, 1989), 5.) Notably, both buildings originally featured a central cylindrical section, strategically placed at the heart of the structure, that housed a library. As a librarian, I find this aspect particularly poignant, because this choice of placement highlights Guimet’s deep regard for books and libraries.
[xvi] Frédéric Girard, “The approach of a European towards Japanese religions: the dialogues of Emile Guimet with Japanese monks and priests,” Nichibunken Forum Lectures no. 214 (International Research Center for Japanese Studies, 2010): 33.
[xvii] Masako Hasegawa-Sockeel, E-mail message to author, April 23, 2020.
[xviii] Shigemi Inaga, “Émile Guimet and Félix Régamey, Their trip to Japan in the context of the “Abolition of the Buddhism” 1876-1878,” 7-8.