limited in its scope. It is vigorous toward the dead and toward the
Emperor, but as a grace of daily life it is not conspicuous.
Few achievements of the Japanese have been more remarkable than the
suppression of certain religious phenomena. Any complete statement of
the religious characteristics of the Japanese fifty years ago would
have included most revolting and immoral practices under the guise of
religion. Until suppressed by the government in the early years of
Meiji there were in many parts of Japan phallic shrines of
considerable popularity, at which, on festivals at least, sexual
immorality seemed to be an essential part of the worship. At Uji, not
far from Kyoto, the capital of the Empire, for a thousand years and
more, and the center of Buddhism, there was a shrine of great repute
and popularity. Thither resorted the multitudes for bacchanalian
purposes. Under the auspices of the Goddess Hashihime and the God
Sumiyoshi, free rein was given to lust. Since the beginning of the new
régime such revels have been forbidden and apparently stopped; the
phallic symbols themselves are no longer visible, although it is
asserted by the keeper of the shrine that they are still there,
concealed in the boxes on the pedestals formerly occupied by the
symbols. When I visited the place some years since with a fellow
missionary we were told that multitudes still come there to pray to
the deities; those seeking divorce pray to the female deity, while
those seeking a favorable marriage pray to the male deity; on asking
as to the proportion of the worshipers, we were told that there are
about ten of the former to one of the latter, a significant indication
of the unhappiness of many a home. Prof. Edmund Buckley has made a
special study of the subject of phallic worship in Japan; in his
thesis on the topic he gives a list of thirteen places where these
symbols of phallic worship might be seen a few years since. It is
significant that at Uji, not a stone's throw from the phallic shrine,
is a temple to the God Agata, whose special function is the cure of
venereal diseases.
But though phallic worship and its accompanying immorality have been
extirpated, immorality in connection with religion is still rampant in
certain quarters. Not far from the great temples at Ise, the center of
Shintoism and the goal for half a million pilgrims yearly, are large
and prosperous brothels patronized by and existing for the sake of
the pilgrims. A still more popular resort for pilgrims is that at
Kompira, whither, as we have seen, some 900,000 come each year; here
the best hotels, and presumably the others also, are provided with
prostitutes who also serve as waiting girls; on the arrival of a guest
he is customarily asked whether or not the use of a prostitute shall
be included in his hotel bill. It seems strange, indeed, that the
government should take such pains to suppress phallicism, and allow
such immorality to go on under the eaves of the greatest national
shrines; for these shrines are not private affairs; the government
takes possession of the gifts, and pays the regular salaries of the
attending priests. It would appear from its success in the
extermination of distinctly phallic worship that the government could
put a stop to all public prostitution in connection with religion if
it cared to do so.
One point of interest in connection with the above facts is that the
old religions, however much of force, beauty, and truth we may concede
to them, have never made warfare against these obscene forms of
worship, nor against the notorious immorality of their devotees.
Whatever may be said of the profound philosophy of life involved in
phallic worship, for many hundreds of years it has been a source of
outrageous immorality. Nevertheless, there has never been any
continued and effective effort on the part of the higher types of
religion to exterminate the lower. But Japan is not peculiar in this
respect. India is even now amazingly immoral in certain forms of her
worship.
Another point of interest in this connection is that the change of the
nation in its attitude to this form of religion was due largely,
probably wholly, to contact with the nations of the West. The
uprooting of phallic worship was due, not to a moral reformation, but
to a political ambition. It was carried out, not in deference to
public opinion, but wholly by government command, though without doubt
the nobler opinion of the land approved of the government action. But
even this nobler public sentiment was aroused by the Occidental
stimulus. The success of the effort must be attributed not a little to
the age-long national custom of submitting absolutely to governmental
initiative and command.
Another point of interest is that, in consequence of official
pressure, the religious character of a large number of the people
seems to have undergone a radical change. The ordinary traveler in
Japan would not suspect that phallicism had ever been a prominent
feature of Japanese religious life. Only an inquisitive seeker can now
find the slightest evidences of this once popular cult. Here we have
an apparent change in the character of a people sudden and complete,
induced almost wholly by external causes. It shows that the previous
characteristic was not so deeply rooted in the physical or spiritual
nature of the race as many would have us believe. Can we escape the
conclusion that national characteristics are due much more to the
circle of dominant ideas and actual practices, than to the inherent
race nature?
The way in which phallicism has been suppressed during the present era
raises the general question of religious liberty in Japan. In this
respect, no less than in many others, a change has taken place so
great as to amount to a revolution. During two hundred and fifty years
Christianity was strictly forbidden on pain of extreme penalties. In
1872 the edict against Christianity was removed, free preaching was
allowed, and for a time it seemed as if the whole nation would become
Christian in a few decades; even non-Christians urged that
Christianity be made the state religion. What an amazing volte-face!
Religious liberty is now guaranteed by the constitution promulgated in
1888. There are those who assert that until Christianity invaded
Japan, religious freedom was perfect; persecutions were unknown. This
is a mistake. When Buddhism came to Japan, admission was first sought
from the authorities, and for a time was refused. When various sects
arose, persecutions were severe. We have seen how belief in
Christianity was forbidden under pain of death for more than two
hundred and fifty years. Under this edict, many thousand Japanese
Christians and over two hundred European missionaries were put to
death. Yet, on the whole, it may be said that Old Japan enjoyed no
little religious freedom. Indeed, the same man might worship freely
at all the shrines and temples in the land. To this day multitudes
have never asked themselves whether they are Shinto or Buddhist or
Confucianist. The reason for this religious eclecticism was the
fractional character of the old religions; they supplemented each
other. There was no collision between them in doctrine or in morals.
The religious freedom was, therefore, not one of principle but of
indifference. As Rome was tolerant of all religions which made no
exclusive claims, but fiercely persecuted Christianity, so Japan was
tolerant of the two religions that found their way into her territory
because they made no claims of exclusiveness. But a religion that
demanded the giving up of rivals was feared and forbidden.
New Japan, however, following Anglo-Saxon example, has definitely
adopted religious freedom as a principle. First tacitly allowed after
the abolition of the edict against Christianity in 1872, it was later
publicly guaranteed by the constitution promulgated in 1888. Since
that date there has been perfect religious liberty for the individual.
Yet this statement must be carefully guarded. If we may judge from
some recent decrees of the Educational Department, it would appear
that a large and powerful section of the nation is still ignorant of
the real nature and significance of "religious liberty." Under the
plea of maintaining secular education, the Educational Department has
forbidden informal and private Christian teaching, even in private
schools. An adequate statement of the present struggle for complete
religious liberty would occupy many pages. We note but one important
point.
In the very act of forbidding religious instruction in all schools the
Educational Department is virtually establishing a brand-new religion
for Japan, a religion based on the Imperial Educational Edict.[CF] The
essentially religious nature of the attitude taken by the government
toward this Edict has become increasingly clear in late years. In the
summer of 1898 one who has had special opportunities of information
told me that Mr. Kinoshita, a high official in the Educational
Department, suggested the ceremonial worship of the Emperor's picture
and edict by all the schools, for the reason that he saw the need of
cultivating the religious spirit of reverence together with the need
for having religious sanctions for the moral law. He felt convinced
that a national school system without any such sanctions would be
helpless in teaching morality to the pupils. His suggestion was
adopted by the Educational Department and has been enforced.
In this attitude toward the religious character of entirely private
schools, the government is materially abridging the religious liberty
of the people. It is abridging their liberty of carrying belief into
action in one important respect, that, namely, of giving a Christian
education. It virtually insists on the acceptance of that form of
religion which apotheosizes the Emperor, and finds the sanctions for
morality in his edict; it excludes from the schools every other form
of religion. It should, of course, be said that this attitude is
maintained not only toward Christian schools, but theoretically also
toward all religious schools. It, however, operates more severely on
Christian schools than upon others, because Christians are the only
ones who establish high-grade schools for secular education under
religious influences.
It is evident, therefore, that in the matter of religious liberty the
present attitude of the government is paradoxical, granting in one
breath, what, in an important respect, it denies in the next. But
throughout all these changes and by means of them we see more and more
clearly that even religious tolerance is a matter of the prevailing
social ideas and of the dominant social order, rather than of inherent
race character. By a single transformation of the social order, Japan
passed from a state of perfect religious intolerance to one just the
reverse, so far as individual belief was concerned.
Taking a comprehensive review of our study thus far, we see that the
forms of Japanese religious life have been determined by the history,
rather than by any inherent racial character of the people. Although
they had a religion prior to the coming of any external influence,
yet they have proved ready disciples of the religions of other lands.
The religion of India, its esoteric, and especially its exoteric
forms, has found wide acceptance and long-continued popularity. The
higher life of the nation readily took on in later times the religious
characteristics of the Chinese, predominantly ethical, it is true, and
only slightly religious as to forms of worship. When Roman Catholic
Christianity came to Japan in the sixteenth century, it, too, found
ready acceptance. It is true that it presented a view of the nature of
religion not very different from that held by Buddhism in many
respects, yet in others there was a marked divergence, as for
instance, in the doctrine of God, of individual sin, and of the nature
and method of salvation. The Japanese have thus shown themselves ready
assimilators of all these diverse systems of religious expression.
Just at present a new presentation of Christianity is being made to
the Japanese; some are urging upon them the acceptance of the Roman
Catholic form of it; others are urging the Greek; and still others are
presenting the Protestant point of view. Each of these groups of
missionaries seems to be reaping good harvests. Speaking from my own
experience, I may say, that many of the Japanese show as great an
appreciation of the essence of the religious life, and find the ideas
and ideals, doctrines and ceremonies, of Christianity as fitted to
their heart's deepest needs, as do any in the most enlightened parts
of Christendom. It is true that the Christian system is so opposed to
the Buddhistic and Shinto, and in some respects to the Confucian, that
it is an exceedingly difficult matter at the beginning to give the
Buddhist or Shintoist any idea of what Christianity is. Yet the
difficulty arises not from the structure of the brain, nor from the
inherent race character, but solely from the diversity of hitherto
prevailing systems of thought. When once the passage from the one
system of thought to the other has been effected, and the significance
of the Christian system and life has been appreciated,--in other
words, when the Japanese Buddhist or Shintoist or Confucianist has
become a Christian,--he is as truly a Christian and as faithful as is
the Englishman or American.
Of course I do not mean to say that he looks at every doctrine and at
every ceremony in exactly the same way as an Englishman or American.
But I do say that the different point of view is due to the differing
social and religious history of the past and the differing
surroundings of the present, rather than to inherent racial character
or brain structure. The Japanese are human beings before they are
Japanese.
For these reasons have I absolute confidence in the final acceptance
of Christianity by the Japanese. There is no race characteristic in
true Christianity that bars the way. Furthermore, the very growth of
the Japanese in recent years, intellectually and in the reorganization
of the social order, points to their final acceptance of Christianity
and renders it necessary. The old religious forms are not satisfying
the religious needs of to-day. And if history proves anything, it
proves that only the religion of Jesus can do this permanently.
Religion is a matter of humanity, not of nationality. It is for this
reason that the world over, religions, though of so many forms, are
still so much alike. And it is because the religion of Jesus is
pre-eminently the religion of humanity and has not a trace of
exclusive nationality about it, that it is the true religion, and is
fitted to satisfy the deepest religious wants of the most highly
developed as well as the least developed man of any and every race and
nation. In proportion as man develops, he grows out of his narrow
surroundings, both physical and mental and even moral; he enters a
larger and larger world. The religious expressions of his nature in
the local provincial and even national stages of his life cannot
satisfy his larger potential life. Only the religion of humanity can
do this. And this is the religion of Jesus. The white light of
religion, no less than that of scientific truth, has no local or
national coloring. Perfect truth is universal, eternal, unchangeable.
Occidental or Oriental colorations are in reality defects,
discolorations.
XXIX
SOME PRINCIPLES OF NATIONAL EVOLUTION
And now, having studied somewhat in detail various distinctive
Japanese characteristics, it is important that we gain an insight into
the general principles which govern the development of unified,
national life. These principles render Japanese history luminous.
Let us first fix our attention on the fact that every step in the
progress of mankind has been from smaller to larger communities. In
other words, human progress has been through the increasing extension
of the communal principle. The primitive segregative man, if there
ever really was such a being, hardly deserves to be called man. Social
qualities he had very slight, if at all; his altruistic actions and
emotions were of the lowest and feeblest type. His life was so
self-centered--we may not call it selfish, for he was not conscious of
his self-centeredness--that he was quite sufficient to himself except
for short periods of time. It was a matter of relative indifference to
him whether his kinsmen survived or perished. His life was in only the
slightest degree involved in theirs. The first step of progress for
him depended on the development of some form of communal life. The
primary problem of the social evolution of man was that of taking the
wild, self-centered, self-sufficient man, and of teaching him to move
in line with his fellow-men. And this problem confronted not only
mankind at the beginning, but it has also been the great problem of
each successive stage. After the individual has been taught to live
with, to work with and for, and to love, his immediate kinsmen (in
other words to merge his individual interests in those of the family,
and to count the family interests of more importance than his own),
the next step was to induce the family to look beyond its little
world and be willing to work with and for neighboring families. When,
after ages of conflict, this step was in a measure secured and the
family-tribe was fairly formed, this group in turn must be taught to
take into its view a still larger group, the tribal nation. Throughout
the ages the constant problem has been the development of larger and
larger communal groups. This general process has been very aptly
called by Mr. Bagehot the taming process. The selfward thoughts and
ambitions of the individual man have been thus far driven more and
more into the background of fact, if not of consciousness. The
individual has been brought into vital and organic relations with
ever-increasing multitudes of his fellow-men. It is, therefore,
pre-eminently a process of social or associational development. It not
only develops social relations in an ever-increasing scale, but also
social qualities and ideals and desires.
Now this taming, this socializing process, has been successful because
it has had back of it, always enforcing it, the law of the survival of
the strongest. What countless millions of men must have perished in
the first step! They consisted of the less fit; of those who would
not, or did not, learn soon enough the secret of existence through
permanent family union. And what countless millions of families must
have perished because they did not discover the way, or were too
independent, to unite with kindred families in order to fight a common
foe or develop a common food supply. And still later, what countless
tribes must have perished before the secret of tribal federation was
widely accepted! In each case the problem has been to secure the
subordination of the interests of the smaller and local community to
those of the larger community. Death to self and life to the larger
interest was often the condition of existence at all. How slow men
always have been and still are to learn this great lesson of history!
The method whereby this taming process has been carried on has been
through the formation of increasingly comprehensive and rigid customs
and ideas. Through the development and continued existence of a common
language, series of common customs, and sets of common ideas, unity
was secured for the community; these, indeed, are the means whereby a
group is transformed into a community. As the smaller community gave
way to the larger, so the local languages, customs, and ideas had to
break up and become so far modified as to form a new bond of unity.
Until this unity was secured the new community was necessarily weak;
the group easily broke up into its old constituent elements. We here
gain a glimpse into one reason why the development of large composite
communities, uniting and for the most part doing away with smaller
ones, was so difficult and slow.
The process of absorption of smaller groups and their unification into
larger ones, when carried out completely in any land, tends to arrest
all further growth, not simply because there is no further room for
expansion by the absorption of other divergent tribes, but also
because the "cake of custom" is apt to become so hard, the uniformity
enforced on all the individuals is liable to become so binding, that
fruitful variation from within is effectually cut off. The evolution
of relatively isolated or segregated groups necessarily produces
variety; and the process whereby these divergent types of life and
thought and organization are gradually brought together into one large
community provides wide elements of variation, in the selection and
general adoption of which the evolution of the whole community may be
secured. But let the divergent elements of the lesser groups once be
entirely absorbed by the composite community and let the "cake of
custom" become so rigid that every individual who varies from it is
branded as a heretic and a traitor, and the progressive evolution of
that community must cease.
The great problem, therefore, which then confronts man and seems to
threaten all further progress is, how to break the bondage of custom
so as to secure local or individual variations. This can be done only
through some form of individualism. The individual must be free to
think and act as experience or fancy may suggest, without fear of
being branded as a traitor, or at least he must have the courage to do
so in spite of such fears. And to produce an effect on the community
he must also be more or less protected in his idiosyncrasies by
popular toleration.
He must be allowed to live and work out his theories, proving whether
they are valuable or not. But since individualism is just what all
previous communal development has been most assiduous in crushing out,
how is the rise of individualism possible, or even desirable? If the
first and continued development of man depended on the attainment and
the maintenance of the communal principle, we may be sure that his
further progress will not consist in the reversal of that principle.
If, therfore, individualism must be developed, it must manifestly be
of a variety which does not conflict with or abrogate communalism.
Only as the individualistic includes the communal principle will it be
a source of strength; otherwise it can only be a source of weakness to
the community. But is not this an impossible condition to satisfy?
Certainly, before the event, it would seem to be so. The rarity with
which this step in human evolution has been taken would seem to show
that it is far more difficult to accomplish than any of the previous
steps. To give it a name we may call it communo-individualism. What
this variety of individualism is, how this forward step was first
actually taken, and how it is maintained and extended to-day, we shall
consider in a later chapter. In the present place its importance for
us is twofold. First we must realize the logical difficulty of the
step--its apparently self-contradictory nature. And secondly we need
to see that fully developed and continuously progressive national life
is impossible without it. The development of a nation under the
communal principle may advance far, even to the attainment of a
relatively high grade of civilization. But the fully centralized and
completely self-conscious nation cannot come into existence except on
the basis of this last step of communo-individualism. The growth of
nationalism proper, and the high development of civilization through
the rise of the sciences and the arts based upon individualism, all
await the dawn of the era of which communo-individualism is the
leading, though at first unrecognized, characteristic.