CHAPTER XIII.

MANNERS.

Decline of etiquette—Politeness and self-restraint—“Swear-words”—Honorifics—Squatting—Kissing—Calls made and received—Rules for behaviour in company—Inconsiderate visitors—Woman’s reserve before strangers—Hospitality—Reticence on family matters.

In Japan as in most other oriental countries, etiquette is an extremely intricate art which can be mastered only by diligent study under a professor. It is an important item in a girl’s school curriculum and is among her most valued accomplishments. It is not, however, commonly studied in detail by men, unless they have been brought up under the old regime; they feel in consequence like fish out of water when they have to assist at elaborate ceremonies and fall into many blunders through their nervous efforts to steer clear of _gaucheries_. Men could well spare the time in the leisurely days of the feudal government when they could live in competence by taking up their hereditary offices, professions, or trades and working in the same grooves as their ancestors had done; but in these days of fierce competition when every man must strike out for himself to earn a living, we have little or no time to go into the intricacies of etiquette. Hence, the more complex forms are gradually falling into disuse; and the knowledge thereof, and that too not very deep, has become the monopoly of women. Indeed, though there are plenty of books on etiquette for women, hardly one, certainly none of any note, has been published of late years for the use of the other sex.

It is generally conceded that the Japanese are among the politest people in the world; and some writers go so far as to contrast our politeness with French by observing that the latter is only skin-deep while ours is natural and spontaneous. Such a contrast may be flattering to our national vanity; but we are inclined to doubt whether it is just. The truth is, we fear, that courtesy is with us as with the French a matter of education and is to a great extent a mechanical habit which its enforcement from early childhood at home and at school has almost made a second nature with us. That self-control which we possess in common with other Asiatic nations from its having been instilled into us from generation to generation by the precepts of our sages, enables us to repress all expression of emotion whenever necessity arises and even to wear a mask under the most trying circumstances. Politeness is then with us a great restraining force in our social life; but once that force is removed or overpowered by an emotional outburst, we are hurled along as helplessly as any other people by the master passion of the moment and betray like them the hooligan in us, as the police reports too often prove. Our women, from the fact that the outcome of their education is self-effacement, possess this power of control in a far greater degree than men. They will go on smiling in the face of insulting remarks and completely conceal their wounded feelings. This has led many foreign visitors to imagine that they can address without offence any remarks however gross to a Japanese woman. She may put up with them without any sign of anger; but could politeness permit her to retort, these foreigners would learn with astonishment what cutting sarcasms are capable of being expressed in “the politest language in the world that has no swear-word in it.”

Apropos of “swear-words,” their absence in a language is, it may be observed, no criterion of the gentleness of the people speaking that tongue. The suave diction of diplomacy can convey a threat far more effectively than the bluster of Billingsgate; innuendo is a much more telling weapon in polemics than a direct attack; and courteous or veiled language gives no key to the moral character of the speaker. And so it does not necessarily follow that a nation whose language is rich in honorifics and other terms of respect and reverence is of a gentler disposition or less robust than one which does not recognise such niceties of speech; the only difference between the two lies in the manner in which they give vent to their passion or emotion. For the former can convey any degree of discourtesy or insult by a wilful omission of these honorifics in a way which would be well nigh incomprehensible to people to whom such discrimination is foreign. There is no need to resort to blasphemy or profanity to express strong feeling since these honorifics, by their absence or ironical use, serve all purposes of emotional language. In fact, the words of insult which are used in common speech sound very mild when translated into English. An Englishman would probably smile at a Japanese hurling at his opponent’s head words like fool, beast, and dunderhead as opprobrious terms, while the Japanese would be equally amused at the Englishman’s readiness to invoke God’s curse upon everybody and everything that may fail to please him. Since, then, honorifics play an important part in Japanese speech, their proper use requires considerable art and tact. The blunders of the labouring classes in their use are stock jokes with professional story-tellers; but with the educated classes solecisms of the kind are of comparatively rare occurrence. From long practice their right use has become a settled habit. It would be difficult to explain precisely the force of these honorifics in common speech; but suffice it to state that words, or rather syllables, signifying respect are prefixed or affixed to the words directly referring to the person addressed or spoken of, if he is a superior or an equal whom it is customary to treat with consideration. There are also special words and phrases to be used on such occasions.

These prefixes are commonly translated “honourable” or “august” by English writers on Japan; thus, phrases which merely mean “your face” or “his hand,” for instance, are rendered by “the honourable face” or “the august hand.” But the use of honorifics being, as already stated, almost a matter of habit, they do not usually convey to the Japanese the same import and significance as the word “honourable” would to an Englishman. No doubt, they practically mean that; but the common honorific prefixes, which are monosyllabic, such as _o_, _go_, and _mi_, are glibly uttered. If the Japanese, however, had to use each time in their place the tetrasyllable “honourable,” he would soon grow out of the habit, just as in all probability an Englishman would cease to swear if the word “damn” were not such an easily pronounceable one, short, abrupt, and capable of great emphasis. This word has no equivalent in Japanese and has to be rendered by a periphrasis which would sound as strange to an English ear as the word “honourable” does to a Japanese as a rendering of his common honorific prefixes. Indeed, the use of the English comminatory word is far more eccentric when the word comes to be translated; the Japanese honorific has at least sense, which is more than can always be said for the English swear-word, when it is uttered as indiscriminately as it commonly is. Mr. Mantalini, for instance, would be hard put to it if he were asked to explain what he meant by the little “dems” with which he peppers his speech, while such an expression as “a damn sight” is meaningless, and “a damned good fellow” is an even more hopeless contradiction in terms than “an awfully sweet girl.”

Politeness is early taught in Japanese homes. It is no show-quality to be exhibited only in company, but is daily practised at home and in school as an indispensable aid to _savoir-vivre_. Thus, at home every one bows to his superior in bidding good-morning or good-night. The servants bow to the children, the servants and children to the master and mistress, and all to the father or mother of the master or mistress, who may be living with them. When the last, or the master or mistress goes out, they are seen to the porch and sped with a bow, and when they come home, they are met again at the porch with a bow. We bow squatting with our heads on the mat. This has appeared to many Europeans to be a more obsequious way of greeting than a hand-shake, probably because they associate such a bow with grovelling in the dust, which would certainly be a humiliating posture to a European. But the two are quite distinct. With us, from our way of squatting on the floor, no other form of greeting is possible. In fact, until we cease to squat, that is, until we reform altogether our mode of life, hand-shaking is out of the question. In Europe courtesy impels a man to rise to greet a newcomer, but in Japan he greets him squatting; in Europe a man who comes into the presence of his superior remains standing until he is bidden to take a seat, but in Japan he squats at the door of the room until he is invited to come in, whereupon he shuffles in and makes his salutation. He remains squatting and does not approach close enough to his host to take his hand; for to shake it he must squat with his knees almost touching the other’s, and then, before they could talk at ease, he would have to shuffle backward, which would look very ungainly. Thus, as we squat too far apart to shake hands, we can only bow; and politeness prompts us to bow with our heads on the mats.

Squatting is an art which needs practice from early childhood. The easiest way is to sit Turk-wise with our legs crossed in front; but this can be done only when we are alone or before inferiors, and would be the height of impoliteness before a superior or an equal unless he is a very intimate friend. It is permissible now, however, when we are in European clothes, to sit in this manner at a friend’s house or at convivial gatherings. But this posture can hardly be called squatting. Of squatting properly so called, there are two ways. One is to sit on our feet. This is done by doubling the knees and crossing the feet behind and laying on them the whole weight of the body. Unless we have been used to it from childhood, this mode of squatting would give us pins and needles in a very short time; the feet would go to sleep and if we tried suddenly to rise, our legs would refuse to support us. Men squat in this way; but women resort to the other method, which is to double the knees as in the first case, but to keep the legs and feet straight out behind without crossing, so that less weight falls upon them. As the legs are pressed down obliquely and the tendons are brought into a state of extreme tension, this method is more trying than the other; but Japanese women can sit in this style for hours on end without feeling any fatigue. There can be little doubt, however, that this habit of squatting is injurious to the development of the body. Most Japanese, if they are not exactly bow-legged, have at least slightly bent legs owing to the weight of the body constantly resting on them. The pressure on the heels also stunts the growth of the lower limbs; for though our trunks are of ordinary length, it is the shortness of the legs that makes us a nation of small stature. We have been told by a Japanese medical authority that we lose at least two inches and a half by this habit of squatting. Now the average height of a Japanese male adult is five feet three inches and a half and that of a female is four feet nine inches and a half, so that if we could abolish squatting and take to chairs, the average heights of our male and female adults would, according to this authority, be five feet six inches and five feet respectively.

We may here add that the reasons which we have given for the impracticability of hand-shaking in a Japanese house, apply with equal force to the practice of kissing. A French writer has charged Japanese lovers with a lack of tenderness as they neither kiss nor shake hands. But what can the poor lovers do to kiss each other? They cannot fall into each other’s arms while they remain squatting, for squatting is not like sitting together on a sofa. When we sit up straight with our feet under us, the equilibrium of such a posture is as unstable as if we were perched on a high stool. It is very rude to remain standing and even to speak before squatting, so that kissing while we are on our legs is not to be thought of. To squat side by side may be pleasant, and it may be possible to snatch a kiss; but when they are locked in each other’s arms, the lovers would run a great risk of sprawling on the floor. To squat face to face with the knees touching, would require the body to be bent forward as if we were going to wrestle; and if the lovers were then to take each other’s arms, there would be a regular tussle and their balance would be more uneven than before. As they could not get at each other without finally rolling on the mats, sweethearts with any sense of decorum would have to forgo the pleasure of kissing; for when we squat, it is much easier to lie down on the floor than to get up again. Lovers, however, are not altogether without the means of approaching each other and feeling the electric thrill which the mere touch appears to give them; for, on the stage at least, their favourite position is to squat back to back and lean against each other. They are satisfied if their cheeks touch, for kissing is difficult without twisting the neck enough to sprain the muscles. Kissing, then, as a mode of salutation among lovers and near relatives, has never been recognised in this country, because the internal arrangement of our houses and other conditions of life have militated against its practice; and perhaps, could some means be found to bring about its appreciation by the bulk of the nation, that would be more efficacious than any other measure for the westernisation of our domestic life.

Though good manners are insisted upon at home, they are, needless to say, exhibited to the full in company when one makes a call or receives visitors. The usual manner in which a call is made and received is as follows:—The visitor, on going up to the front door, does not knock or ring as there is neither a knocker nor a bell-handle. He bawls out; and as the doors are all sliding-doors, he is easily heard, though he has sometimes to call out again and again before his voice reaches the kitchen. When the door is answered and the master of the house apprised of the call, the visitor is shown in; he leaves his hat, greatcoat, and umbrella in the porch and is ushered into the parlour. A cushion is immediately set for him and another for the host; but the visitor does not, unless he is an intimate friend, sit on it until his host comes in and urges him to do so. We often stand very much on ceremony in this respect; we take the cushion only upon repeated invitation; one who wishes to show great respect will decline to squat on it however much he may be pressed. The host and the visitor then bow to each other with their hands and foreheads on the mat. They apologise, if they are acquaintances, for past neglect to visit each other, ask after each other’s family, and probably, make a few observations on the weather, bowing with each remark, inquiry, and answer. A brazier is brought in if it is cold; but in warm weather a “tobacco-tray” is set before the host and the visitor. Tea and confectionery are also invariably offered. When the visitor leaves, there is another succession of bows, and the host and a servant see him to the porch and there bid him good-bye.

As to behaviour in company, the following quaint directions are given in an old book on etiquette for women, which though primarily intended for the instruction of the gentler sex, are also applicable to men, among whom the tendency is, as has already been remarked, to be somewhat lax in the observance of the minutiæ of etiquette:

“A woman should always get up early, wash her face, and carefully comb her hair, for it is rude to appear with dishevelled hair.”

“Do not stare at other people, male or female, and be very careful in your speech. Do not tell anything without being asked, make confessions, or speak boastfully of yourself, and above all, on no account speak ill of others.”

“When you are in the presence of your superior, do not scratch yourself; but if any part of your body itches so badly that you cannot help scratching it, put a finger on the spot and give it a hard scratch so that the itchiness may be absorbed in the pain so caused. Do not wipe sweat off your face or blow your nose; but if you must do so, run into the next room or turn your face away from your superior. In blowing your nose, first blow gently, then a little louder, and finally gently again. But you should, if possible, do these things before you come into your superior’s presence.”

“Do not use a toothpick in company, for it is extremely rude to talk with one in your mouth.”

“Do not pare your nails, comb your hair, or tighten your _obi_ in company, or glance at a letter that another is reading or writing.”

“Do not step upon other people’s cushions, beds, or feet; but always bear in mind that the only things you may tread on are your clogs and the only things you may step over are the grooves of the sliding-doors.”

“If any one invites you to go out with her, do not put on a finer dress than hers; you should ascertain by previous inquiry what she is going to wear. Do not scent yourself too much or have strong scent-bags about you.”

“It is not good form when you make a call to sit in the middle of a room, and it savours too much of a novice to sit in a corner. Do not make a noise by opening and folding a fan, or fidget with a tea-cup; and do not show a tired face and yawn or pretend not to hear what is being said to you. Moreover, when you have a visitor, do not be constantly looking at the clock and let her suspect that you are impatient for her departure.”

“When you meet a superior in the street, bow low so that the tips of your fingers, with your hands extended downwards, may touch your feet. Do not get flurried and give incoherent answers; but steady yourself by fixing your eyes upon the lady’s knees if she is one whom you wish to treat with the greatest respect, upon her _obi_ if the respect is to be of a slightly lesser degree, and upon the crest of her _haori_ if that respect is still less. Look your equal in the face.”

“In handing a knife to a superior, if it is hers, take the handle in your left hand with the blade pointing towards yourself; but if it is yours, take the handle sideways so that the blade points to her left. In either case the right hand should rest on the mat as you bend forward. Always use the left hand before your superiors.”

“Never enter another’s house unannounced, however intimate you may be with her; for if you were to come upon an untidy room, your intrusion would be no less unpleasant for yourself than for your hostess.”

“In leading a blind man into a room, let him rest a hand on your shoulder, or catch hold of a fan in your hand or of your sleeve. It is rude to lead him by the hand.”

“It is extremely rude to send a caller away when you are at home; but some people go so far as to decide whether they shall be at home or not, only after they have heard the caller’s name.”

“Nothing is more displeasing to a hostess than to have a a visitor who stays on without having anything particular to say. We should not therefore pay a needlessly long visit or make too frequent calls. Intimate friends should, however, call occasionally; but neither the hostess nor the caller is without business of some kind; and if a person is offended with another for not calling on her often enough, there is no need to become intimate with her. If you have business to do with any one, consider the hour of your visit; do not call too early in the morning or too late at night or at meal-time. If there is a caller before you, wait till she leaves before broaching your business, or else call again.”

The women of Japan probably talk as much as those of any other country. They chat freely with their friends, but they are reserved before strangers and open their mouths only when they are addressed. They are taught not to boast of their knowledge or try to show it off. Hence, if a stranger asks them a question out of the common, they generally profess ignorance. A Japanese knows this; and when he makes a woman’s acquaintance, he takes care not to lead the conversation outside the merest commonplaces; but the foreigner who has no idea of this custom is apt to get a false impression and has indeed not unfrequently pronounced her to be little better than a doll with no thought beyond dresses and trivialities of life.

Another misapprehension prevails among European writers who praise Japanese hospitality, but complain that a Japanese, while he receives a foreigner at his house, maintains at the same time strict reserve on the subject of his family. Some have attributed it to an anti-foreign feeling; but whatever other indications of a bias against foreigners these writers may have detected in individual cases, the fact which they adduce cannot in itself be regarded in that light, for a Japanese guest is placed in much the same position. The host, in his desire to show an interest in his guest, often asks him minutely about his people at home, which some Englishmen have resented as impertinence; but touching his own family affairs he is usually very reticent. He is anxious to keep his private concerns in the background and will assume a cheerful countenance even in the midst of the most pressing difficulties. His idea of hospitality is that nothing should be allowed to interfere with his guest’s enjoyment. Even personal grief is concealed under a smile, and a member of the family may be seriously ill without the guest getting an inkling of the fact. A visitor to any member of the household is considered to have a claim upon the hospitality of the whole family; and he is royally entertained though the rest may suffer inconvenience, as when the parlour in which the guest squats is the family bed-room and they have all to sit up till he leaves.

Our hospitality is admitted; but what a European visitor misses is the appearance of the wife and other members of the family at the dinner or supper to which he is invited. The husband, as the head of the family, is its sole representative, and his presence is sufficient for doing the honours. The wife seldom appears unless the visitor is a family friend or she is acquainted with his wife. Such an invitation as taking pot-luck is seldom given; politeness requires us to depreciate our offering, but we treat to our best. We therefore entertain and are entertained without our wives’ participation. It is nothing extraordinary to have friends of many years’ standing, whose wives we have never seen. It is then absurd to attribute this reticence respecting our family affairs to any sentiment hostile to our foreign visitors. Our social point of view is indeed so different to the occidental that a European generally falls into an error when he tries to judge our customs from his own standpoint.