Part 10

'Such was, then, the "sword" which our Samurai adored. There were two or three at least of such swords, which were heirlooms of a Samurai family. Just imagine a Samurai going forth to the battlefield and reflecting what a distinction his ancestors had made in similar battlefields, or what devotions he had displayed to his lord by that very sword, now being borne in his hand or in his girdle: why! the very thought would fire his soul and make him emulate the deeds of his ancestors and despise cowardice. No mean thought could enter his mind; the spirit of the sword radiating from the pure cold lustre of the blade handed down by his ancestors could not but thrust such thought from his mind. Such would at least be the sentiments of a real Samurai. The sword was not unsheathed wantonly, but when drawn it was a maxim that it should not be sheathed until its legitimate mission had been fulfilled. No wonder, then, that a Samurai should almost have worshipped his sword, even when undrawn from its scabbard, as the reviewer sarcastically describes. The sword of a Samurai, even when in the scabbard, was not a thing to be trifled with. A Samurai worshipped sword, but not money-bags. If they had worshipped the latter instead of the former, they might have met with the approval of the reviewer. From the utilitarian point of view, if they had done so, it might have benefited their country more materially, and, therefore, their worshipping a sword might have been the weakest point of their ideals, but we do not see cause for regret for all that. The tide of time has brought changes on all such matters. The Government has forbidden not only Samurai, but also all others who were privileged, to wear swords in their girdles. Hundreds and thousands of our best blades have left the houses of Samurai and been either exported, or turned into other implements, for mere trifling sums, often for the gold and silver used for the ornaments of the scabbard. For us, it is sad to think of, though it is of course a necessary outcome of the great changes which have passed over us. It is, however, my earnest desire that the spirit of devotion to the swords with which the Samurai was animated may always be preserved. The same feeling explains why some of our officers carry with them their heirloom swords, even in the present war, as you must have noticed now and then in the press. The traditions of the sword, I am glad to say, have not as yet died in the breasts of the Japanese. There is an association in Tokio, the members of which meet periodically, bringing their own choice swords, and offering their comments on those of others. It may be difficult to appreciate how one can enjoy oneself looking at the blades of swords, but with us it gives great pleasure, if only from an artistic point of view. There have been many different schools of swordsmiths, and even amongst the workers of one school there is some special characteristics of their work. It is the pleasure of the Japanese who are fond of good sword blades to judge of the school and maker by inspecting the blades only. It pleases me to tell you of a gentleman in England who has made the study of Japanese swords a special subject, and his attainment of knowledge in the subject has been recognised by the association in Tokio, which has cheerfully elected him its honorary member. I may add a word or two. When Port Arthur was on the brink of falling, a cartoon was published in the London _Punch_ representing General Stoessel standing at the top of a fortified hill under a half-torn Russian flag. He was holding up a broken sword and uttering a few words of devotion to the Emperor of Russia. That cartoon took the English public very much, and was reproduced on the pages of many papers. It appealed very deeply to the imagination of the Japanese, in particular, though I am not quite sure if Stoessel deserved such sympathy at the last stage of the siege.'

--'That cartoon was very good,' said Lady Modestina. 'I have seen it.'

--'So have I too,' chimed in Lady Dulciana.

--'Let us proceed to the latter part of the review,' said the duke. 'The reviewer says of the author of the other book that "he takes rather a pessimistic view of Japan," and proceeds to say:

'Professor S. takes rather a pessimistic view of Japan. He admits to the full, as every one must, the five noble qualities of Japanese character, viz. bravery, loyalty, alertness, thoroughness, and self-control, to which list courtesy should be added.

But he goes on to quote from the author:

'The two cancers at the core of Japanese character are deep-set dishonesty and abandoned impurity; either would be sufficient to wreck the life of any nation.

And it seems, according to the reviewer, the author tells us that Japan is still a country where the word lie is not a term of reproach, but rather implies a jocular compliment, and then dilates upon the undesirable occupations of some females. The words employed are very strong. Let us have your opinion.'

--'We are at times vexed with some of the occidental writers,' I replied, 'even with Anglo-Saxon writers occasionally, who write in such a strain as though they lived high in the pure air, while we Japanese live in the muddy marshes. They pick out some dark spots in our customs, and magnify them to suit their own purpose, as though for all the world they had nothing similar, or even worse, in their own countries. Some of them do this from an excess of zeal which they display in their particular calling, without any particular bad intention of defaming Japan; but the results are the same. My answer to your question is very simple. The Yellow Peril alarmists may rest assured, for, according to the author, Japan must die a natural death. What an idea, to indict a whole nation as a den of liars! Does he not know that truthfulness and honesty is the highest ideal of our ethical notions? The commonest of our ethical sayings is: "Shozikino atama ni kami yadoru" (Deity rests on the heads that are honest). The commonest of the ethical poems is:

'Kokoro dani makoto no michi ni kanai naba Inorazu totemo kami ya mamoran.

(If only one's thoughts be in accord With the way of truthfulness, Deity will protect him, though he may not pray.)

'Does he not know another forcible and common saying of Bushido: "Bushi no ichigon" (One word of a Bushi), which means that a word uttered by a Bushi shall never be idle; or, expressed otherwise--"A word is sufficient; he will remain faithful to it"? It is the watchword of Bushi, and if ever a Bushi were doubted, that phrase sufficed for an answer. And it still governs our social ideal of truthfulness. "Yes" or "No," when once definitely uttered by a Bushi, was no more alterable than the ebb and flow of the tide. Does he not know another of our sayings? "Ichidaku senkin" (One "Yes" is equal to a thousand pieces of gold). Does he not know "Usotsuki" (a liar) is with us an everyday word of scathing contempt? Does he not know an "untruthful word," namely, a lie, is accounted a great sin in the Ten Commandments of Buddhism? Does he not know "Yamashi" (a speculator), a term akin to "a liar," is with us a common word of contempt? Does he not know that in large European towns waiters and drivers are constantly cheating strangers by giving wrong change or bad money? I particularly mention these incidents because I myself have often been a victim. Fancy the idea of saying that the word _lie_ is not a term of reproach in Japan! I would feign go a step further. This kind of charge is the commonest method which the Occidentals employ when they talk about the character of other races which they generally regard as inferior to themselves. But mere common-sense will tell them that there can be no human community, even amongst undeveloped tribes, where the word _lie_ is not a word of reproach, if only the smallest element of a moral notion exist, and there can hardly be any human community where there is no such moral notion at all. Such, at least, is my sociological view. With regard to the second accusation, the refutation I am going to make may not be quite in unison with social delicacy, but for that I ask your pardon. You say the author speaks of the undesirable life of some females. The matter is ugly enough, we admit. Of course, metaphorically speaking, we could restore by explanation the paint which had been blackened to its original colour, but still it would not be snow-white. Pure such matters cannot be, we admit, but is there any nation on earth which has no dark spot at all? I ask the author: Does he not know the real condition of the Western countries, whence he springs? How is it with Paris, London, Berlin, or Vienna? Pick, for instance, one hundred pedestrians at random, one afternoon or evening, in Regent Street, or on the Boulevards, the best thoroughfares of London and Paris. What percentage of them can be held up as the ideals of "purity" the writer seems to imagine them to be? I might go much further if I wished, but I prefer not. Taken as a whole, I venture to think that the social structure of Japan is in reality far cleaner than that of most countries. Of course, I do not say "two wrongs make a right," but I do say this: It is naïve to accuse us in such harsh terms, as though believing that we Japanese have no idea of the dark spots of other nations. Men after the style of this writer admit such of our noble characteristics as those enumerated by the writer because they have become manifest, not during an epoch of peace, but in the time of war. Could any one say that they were manufactured specially for the war--at a minute's notice? Did not the greatest error of our opponents lie in the fact that they had not perceived these qualities in the time of peace? It saddens us to think that such a writer either cannot see, or intentionally ignores, some of the essential points of our character, unless they are incontestably demonstrated by incessant slaughter.

--'Pardon me,--I have been a little excited, and have spoken, perhaps, more than I should. Once a Frenchman told Lord Palmerston that English thieves were cleverer than Continental ones; whereupon Palmerston answered: "I am glad of that, for it shows that our intellectual faculty is more developed all round." That is one way of looking at things. At any rate, I have no intention of attacking any occidental vices: our writers do not indulge in writing on these matters either. I rather believe that vices are necessary outcomes of modern progress. Every nation has its virtues and vices. I dare say we shall have to add more vices as we make further progress. Cards, for instance, are much played nowadays among our people, since we have learned that they are played generally among our occidental benefactors. Ah! but I must not forget to mention that there are in the West, especially in England and America, many writers for whose fairness we have much gratitude. One does not like to see, still less to acknowledge, any point of superiority in a fellow-creature or a fellow-nation one has been accustomed to look down upon: such is human nature. Our sense of gratitude is, therefore, all the more due to those unbiassed writers.

'Japan is cleaner than most countries,' I continued, 'but she was even better in that respect in the days gone by. Conversely, therefore, the general atmosphere of social morality, I confess, became somewhat tarnished at the time of the great transition, as is bound at such period. There are two reasons for that. In the first place, in the feudal days social discipline was very strict in general, and tranquil enjoyment of the positions of Samurai--above all, those holding official positions--depended a great deal upon their private conduct; but with the introduction of occidental ideas, the private affairs of individuals have come to be viewed very leniently under the name of personal freedom. In the second place, the general condition of society has occasioned laxity in moral discipline almost unavoidably and of necessity. I mean to say that, during the last years of the Shogunate, when the country was in a state of effervescence, and when freedom of speech and meeting had no existence in the modern sense--nay, when any meetings or speeches having a political nature were most rigidly watched and pursued by emissaries, it was almost a matter of necessity that countless young patriots whose lives were as precarious as candle-lights in the wind, as we have it, should resort to a restaurant or tavern, where they could exchange and communicate thought and schemes under the cover of merriment and jocularity. Nay, more: there were not wanting young patriots, who in after years became famous, who owed their lives and success to the heroic assistance rendered by women of uncertain position, to whom they had to repay their indebtedness by personal consideration rather than yield to social scruples.

'The women also were heroic in those days, as is generally the case at the time of revolution in most countries. Add to this the general disruption and transformation, unknown in our previous history, of the whole structure of society, both political and social, and it will be no matter of surprise that a certain relaxation in the usual moral discipline of the people was the result. The Japan which foreigners have seen is _that_ Japan and not the Japan of her normal days. The effect of that great change of 1867--I say "Great Change," because we do not like to apply the term "revolution"--has been subsiding for many years, and now Japan is fast returning to her normal state. I am, therefore, not at all pessimistic in regard to the future of our national life, though the author may be.'

--'And besides,' interposed the duchess, 'foreigners themselves are also spoiling your manners, according to your remarks which I read in one of the English periodicals you gave me. Dulcy, will you bring the English periodical I mean? It is on the small table in my boudoir: I should like to read it once more.'

In a few moments the periodical in question was brought by Lady Dulciana. The duchess took it in her hand, saying, 'Here are the baron's remarks. Listen, I will read aloud.' She read as follows:--

'OCCIDENTAL CIVILISATION IN JAPAN

'"Do you really think," I asked, "that, generally speaking, occidental civilisation is beneficial to Japan?"

'"Well," slowly replied the baron, "that is a question which requires very careful answering. I am certainly of opinion that, from the purely material point of view, this invasion of Western thought and methods has done us the greatest possible good. I refer especially, of course, to science and mechanics. And as to the mental part of it, the influence also is distinctly good--but still, is not so beneficial as from the material point of view.

'"Remember that for centuries we have had our own way of thinking and reasoning, and so, to a great extent, we are not convinced by Western thought. We keep to our old ways, to our old methods, though the trend of our ideas is slightly altered by European thought. Let me give you an illustration of what I mean, for it is rather a difficult point to explain. For instance, we have always been humane and charitable to our fellow-creatures, but in the old days there was no form of public charity. It was not much needed, as a matter of fact, but now you will find that we are everywhere establishing hospitals on the European system. So you see only the old mode of our charity is changed. It is rather a delicate point to say how far Western thought has impregnated our own. The opinions of Darwin, Huxley, and Spencer, as well as the views of Catholic and Protestant Missions, are spread all over Japan; but our ethical sense is such that it does not allow us easily to adopt the dogmatic points of foreign religions, and though many Japanese have adopted Christianity, yet they are, after all, in a vast minority. But that does not signify that we are averse to religion; on the contrary, I am glad to say we extend the greatest tolerance to all kinds of religionists. I am not a Christian myself, but I know, perhaps, more of the essence of Christianity than some of my fellow-countrymen who profess it, for I had to study the Greek Testament in my Cambridge days. I am always amused when the people here imagine I know nothing about that religion. The Missionary question is always a very delicate one. I am sure missionaries mean well, but sometimes they are very indiscreet. For instance, Miss M'Caul, writing the other day from the front, says that one of her escorts was a Japanese lady of position, who had been specially attached to her by the Japanese Government. One day a missionary went up to this lady and asked her if she was married. 'Oh yes,' she replied, 'and I have three children.' 'But were you married in church?' 'No,' 'Then, of course, you are not really married!' Well such narrow minds do real harm. The missionary did not mean to be offensive, but as your proverb has it--'Evil is often wrought by want of thought.'"

'"Has Occidentalism spoiled your art, baron, do you think?"

'"To a certain extent the Western civilisation has damaged the artistic side of our life. I don't think that your oil-paintings will ever supersede our own light sketches. Our houses are not made for elaborate picture frames, and the price of your pictures is much greater than the price of ours. And why should we pay a large sum when we can get as much happiness and pleasure for a small sum? But undoubtedly the European style is influencing ours, as ours is influencing yours. Although our pictures, as a rule, are excellent on the side of idealism, they are very often defective from a technical point of view. Our perspective can certainly be improved by the European method. Some people are of opinion that European methods will spoil our characteristics. But in my opinion it will be so only while the artists are in a transitory state; if they excel they will be all right. I don't see any reason to reject that kind of improvement. Let me give you a plain and simple example of what I mean. Take that square box, for instance. Now, a Japanese artist, owing to his inefficiency in perspective, would so draw it as to make it appear triangular; well, what harm could be done by showing him how to draw it properly.

'"The people generally move with the upper classes, and all our upper classes in Japan are in favour of Western modes of thought and life. People generally are delighted with the Westernisation of Japan, and especially grateful for the improvement in political and civic conditions. We have now the representative system in Parliament; our Courts of Law are modelled on yours; and alas! the increase of Courts has increased litigation, yet justice can be obtained, and appeal can be made against injustice, easier than under the old feudal system. The general condition of the lower classes is far better than in the days of the feudal daimios. Then every locality differed. In some places, if the daimio was a good man, the poor were happy; in others they were less happy, but on the whole there was not extreme poverty. The same condition is continued and somewhat improved. I fear, however, that the relative position of the poor has a tendency to degenerate as in Europe."

'THE STANDARD OF LIVING

'"Are the people generally better off as regards money?"

'"Well, they make more money, but £10 now is only equal to £1, or less, in the old days. But one thing is certain, they have better food. There is one thing, however, in which Western methods have not benefited us--the demarcation between rich and poor is becoming more marked with the new civilisation. And that is a bad sign, though it can't be helped. Education, I am glad to say, is much more general than it was. In former days the Samurai class were well educated, and there were several very good schools, but education was not so general as it is now, when every community has its elementary schools, although we are still far from well off in the way of universities. However, they will come."

'"In speaking to me of the new civilisation, for which he is mainly responsible, the Marquis Ito told me he was afraid that the reverence of the young for the old, and of children for their parents, which was so much a feature of old Japan, appeared to be dying out."

'"I quite agree with him," replied the baron, "and if the individualistic ideas of Western nations continue to increase in Japan, the old family feeling of reverence is sure to decline. That is our great problem of the future. Young Japan in some ways is departing from the ways of its ancestors, and it is a thing to be very greatly feared and deplored."

'"Do you think that, speaking generally, character is improved in Japan by the Western influence?"

'"Speaking of individuals," replied my host, with great vehemence, "no, it is not. On the contrary, I notice great deterioration from association with foreigners. Take, for instance, our ports, where there are mainly houses of ill-fame, mainly supported by European sailors, who have introduced vices and vulgarities of which old Japan was absolutely ignorant. But, of course, I do not consider that the Western influence is wholly bad merely because certain very low-class foreigners come to our country and behave badly. The general good of the community has been greatly advanced by our contact with the West. Trades-unions, for instance, and the formation of great business companies, which were quite unknown in the old days, have helped greatly to raise the commerical status of our people, both employers and employed. You ask me as to individual morality under modern influences. Well, it is difficult to define. On the whole, I think the morality of the individual was higher in the old days, because those days were more simple and the community was more sober. The more primitive a land is, the better it is morally. But I fear we must move with modern times."

'"And which do you prefer--the quiet feudal days of old Japan, or the modern push and worry and hustle and bustle?"

'"It all depends on the point of view," was my host's reply. "Competition with the world is absolutely necessary. But there were many good points about the old days. Although they involved a régime of restriction and there was very little chance of individual development (though not so little as Lafcadio Hearn would make out), men of ability could always push their way to the front even in the days of feudalism."

'"The Marquis Ito, for instance?"

'"Don't speak of him. He, Marquis Yamagata, and many others, have arisen from an obscure position, but, they belong more to our own time, I am speaking of older days. Take, for instance, Arai Hakuseki, who, born in humble circumstances, became the chief adviser of the Shogun. Many a farmer's son who joined the priesthood rose to greater power and position than that of a middle-class daimio."

'"And do you think that the general level of happiness in Japan is as high as it was in the old days of romance?"