pronouns the Japanese language possesses an indefinite number of ways
for delicately suggesting the personal element without its express
utterance. This is done either by subtle praise, which can then only
refer to the person addressed or by more or less bald
self-depreciation, which can then only refer to the first person. "Go
kanai," "honorable within the house," can only mean, according to
Japanese etiquette, "your wife," or "your family," while "gu-sai,"
"foolish wife," can only mean "my wife." "Gufu," "foolish father,"
"tonji," "swinish child," and numberless other depreciatory terms such
as "somatsu na mono," "coarse thing," and "tsumaranu mono," "worthless
thing," according to the genius of the language can only refer to the
first person, while all appreciative and polite terms can only refer
to the person addressed. The terms, "foolish," "swinish," etc., have
lost their literal sense and mean now no more than "my," while the
polite forms mean "yours." To translate these terms, "my foolish
wife," "my swinish son," is incorrect, because it twice translates the
same word. In such cases the Japanese _thought_ is best expressed by
using the possessive pronoun and omitting the derogative adjective
altogether. Japanese indirect methods for the expression of the
personal relation are thus numberless and subtile. May it not be
plausibly argued since the European has only a few blunt pronouns
wherewith to state this idea while the Japanese has both numberless
pronouns and many other delicate ways of conveying the same idea, that
the latter is far in advance of the European in the development of
personality? I do not use this argument, but as an argument it seems
to me much more plausible than that which infers from the paucity of
true pronouns the absence, or at least the deficiency, of personality.
Furthermore, Japanese possesses several words for self. "Onore,"
"one's self," and "Ware," "I or myself," are pure Japanese, while "Ji"
(the Chinese pronunciation for "onore"), "ga," "self," and "shi" (the
Chinese pronunciation of "watakushi," meaning private) are
Sinico-Japanese words, that is, Chinese derived words. These
Sinico-Japanese terms are in universal use in compound words, and are
as truly Japanese as many Latin, Greek and Norman-derived words are
real English. "Ji-bun," "one's self"; "jiman," "self-satisfaction";
"ji-fu," "self-assertion"; "jinin," "self-responsibility"; "ji-bo
ji-ki," "self-destruction, self-abandonment"; "ji-go ji-toku,"
"self-act, self-reward"--always in a bad sense; "ga-yoku," "selfish
desire"; "ga-shin," "selfish heart"; "ga we oru," "self-mastery";
"muga," "unselfish"; "shi-shin shi-yoku," "private or self-heart,
private or self-desire," that is, selfishness"; "shi-ai shi-shin,"
"private-or self-love, private-or-self heart," _i.e._,
selfishness--these and countless other compound words involving the
conception of self, can hardly be explained by the "impersonal,"
"altruistic" theory of Japanese race mind and language. In truth, if
this theory is unable to explain the facts it recognizes, much less
can it account for those it ignores.
To interpret correctly the phenomena we are considering, we must ask
ourselves how personal pronouns have arisen in other languages. Did
the primitive Occidental man produce them outright from the moment
that he discovered himself? Far from it. There are abundant reasons
for believing that every personal pronoun is a degenerate or, if you
prefer, a developed noun. Pronouns are among the latest products of
language, and, in the sphere of language, are akin to algebraic
symbols in the sphere of mathematics or to a machine in the sphere of
labor. A pronoun, whether personal, demonstrative, or relative, is a
wonderful linguistic invention, enabling the speaker to carry on long
trains of unbroken thought. Its invention was no more connected with
the sense of self, than was the invention of any labor-saving device.
The Japanese language is even more defective for lack of relative
pronouns than it is for lack of personal pronouns. Shall we argue from
this that the Japanese people have no sense of relation? Of course
personal pronouns could not arise without or before the sense of self,
but the problem is whether the sense of self could arise without or
exist before that particular linguistic device, the personal pronoun?
On this problem the Japanese language and civilization throw
conclusive light.
The fact is that the ancestors of the Anglo-Saxon and Japanese peoples
parted company so long ago that in the course of their respective
linguistic evolutions, not only have all common terms been completely
eliminated, but even common methods of expression. The so-called
Indo-European races hit upon one method of sentence structure, a
method in which pronouns took an important part and the personal
pronoun was needed to express the personal element, while the Japanese
hit upon another method which required little use of pronouns and
which was able to express the personal element wholly without the
personal pronoun. The sentence structure of the two languages is thus
radically different.
Now the long prevalent feudal social order has left its stamp on the
Japanese language no less than on every other feature of Japanese
civilization. Many of the quasi personal pronouns are manifestly of
feudal parentage. Under the new civilization and in contact with
foreign peoples who can hardly utter a sentence without a personal
pronoun, the majority of the old quasi personal pronouns are dropping
out of use, while those in continued use are fast rising to the
position of full-fledged personal pronouns. This, however, is not due
to the development of self-consciousness on the part of the people,
but only to the development of the language in the direction of
complete and concise expression of thought. It would be rash to say
that the feudal social order accounts for the lack of pronouns,
personal or others, from the Japanese language, but it is safe to
maintain that the feudal order, with its many gradations of social
rank, minute etiquette, and refined and highly developed personal
sensitiveness would adopt and foster an impersonal and honorific
method of personal allusion. Even though we may not be able to explain
the rise of the non-pronominal method of sentence structure, it is
enough if we see that this is a problem in the evolution of language,
and that Japanese pronominal deficiency is not to be attributed to
lack of consciousness of self, much less to the inherent
"impersonality" of the Japanese mind.
An interesting fact ignored by advocates of the "impersonal" theory is
the Japanese inability of conceiving nationality apart from
personality. Not only is the Emperor conceived as the living symbol of
Japanese nationality, but he is its embodiment and substance. The
Japanese race is popularly represented to be the offspring of the
royal house. Sovereignty resides completely and absolutely in him.
Authority to-day is acknowledged only in those who have it from him.
Popular rights are granted the people by him, and exist because of his
will alone. A single act of his could in theory abrogate the
constitution promulgated in 1889 and all the popular rights enjoyed
to-day by the nation. The Emperor of Japan could appropriate, without
in the least shocking the most patriotic Japanese, the long-famous
saying of Louis XIV., "L'état, c'est moi." Mr. H. Kato, ex-president
of the Imperial University, in a recent work entitled the "Evolution
of Morality and Law" says this in just so many words: "Patriotism in
this country means loyalty to the throne. To the Japanese, the Emperor
and the country are the same. The Emperor of Japan, without the
slightest exaggeration, can say, 'L'état, c'est moi.' The Japanese
believe that all their happiness is bound up with the Imperial line
and have no respect for any system of morality or law that fails to
take cognizance of this fact."
Mr. Yamaguchi, professor of history in the Peeresses' School and
lecturer in the Imperial Military College, thus writes in the _Far
East_: "The sovereign power of the State cannot be dissociated from
the Imperial Throne. It lasts forever along with the Imperial line of
succession, unbroken for ages eternal. If the Imperial House cease to
exist, the Empire falls." "According to our ideas the monarch reigns
over and governs the country in his own right.... Our Emperor
possesses real sovereignty and also exercises it. He is quite
different from other rulers, who possess but a partial sovereignty."
This is to-day the universally accepted belief in Japan. It shows
clearly that national unity and sovereignty are not conceived in Japan
apart from personality.
One more point demands our attention before bringing this chapter to a
close. If "impersonality" were an inherent characteristic of Japanese
race nature, would it be possible for strong personalities to arise?
Mr. Lowell has described in telling way a very common experience.
"About certain people," he says, "there exists a subtle something
which leaves its impress indelibly upon the consciousness of all who
come in contact with them. This something is a power, but a power of
so indefinable a description that we beg definition by calling it
simply the personality of the man.... On the other hand, there are
people who have no effect upon us whatever. They come and they go with
a like indifference.... And we say that the difference is due to the
personality or the want of personality of the man."[CV] The first
thing to which I would call attention is the fact that "personality"
is here used in its true sense. It has no exclusive reference to
consciousness of self, nor does it signify the effect of
self-consciousness on the consciousness of another. It here has
reference to those inherent qualities of thinking and feeling and
willing which we have seen to be the essence of personality. These
qualities, possessed in a marked way or degree, make strong
personalities. Their relative lack constitutes weak personality. Bare
consciousness of self is a minor evidence of personality and may be
developed to a morbid degree in a person who has a weak personality.
In the second place this distinction between weak and strong
personalities is as true of the Japanese as of the Occidental. There
have been many commanding persons in Japanese history; they have been
the heroes of the land. There are such to-day. The most commanding
personality of recent times was, I suppose, Takamori Saigo, whose very
name is an inspiration to tens of thousands of the choicest youth of
the nation. Joseph Neesima was such a personality. The transparency of
his purpose, the simplicity of his personal aim, his unflinching
courage, fixedness of belief, lofty plans, and far-reaching ambitions
for his people, impressed all who came into contact with him. No one
mingles much with the Japanese, freely speaking with them in their own
language, but perceives here and there men of "strong personality" in
the sense of the above-quoted passage. Now it seems to me that if
"impersonality" in the corresponding sense were a race characteristic,
due to the nature of their psychic being, then the occurrence of so
many commanding personalities in Japan would be inexplicable. Heroes
and widespread hero-worship[CW] could hardly arise were there no
commanding personalities. The feudal order lent itself without doubt
to the development of such a spirit. But the feudal order could hardly
have arisen or even maintained itself for centuries without commanding
personalities, much less could it have created them. The whole feudal
order was built on an exalted oligarchy. It was an order which
emphasized persons, not principles; the law of the land was not the
will of the multitudes, but of a few select persons. While, therefore,
it is beyond dispute that the old social order was communal in type,
and so did not give freedom to the individual, nor tend to develop
strong personality among the masses, it is also true that it did
develop men of commanding personality among the rulers. Those who from
youth were in the hereditary line of rule, sons of Shoguns, daimyos,
and samurai, were forced by the very communalism of the social order
to an exceptional personal development. They shot far ahead of the
common man. Feudalism is favorable to the development of personality
in the favored few, while it represses that of the masses.
Individualism, on the contrary, giving liberty of thought and act,
with all that these imply, is favorable to the development of the
personality of all.
In view of the discussions of this chapter, is it not evident that
advocates of the "impersonal" theory of Japanese mind and civilization
not only ignore many important elements of the civilization they
attempt to interpret, but also base their interpretation on a mistaken
conception of personality? We may not, however, leave the discussion
at this point, for important considerations still demand our attention
if we would probe this problem of personality to its core.
XXXII
IS BUDDHISM IMPERSONAL?
Advocates of Japanese "impersonality" call attention to the phenomena
of self-suppression in religion. It seems strange, however, that they
who present this argument fail to see how "self-suppression"
undermines their main contention. If "self-suppression" be actually
attained, it can only be by a people advanced so far as to have passed
through and beyond the "personal" stage of existence.
"Self-suppression" cannot be a characteristic of a primitive people, a
people that has not yet reached the stage of consciousness of self. If
the alleged "impersonality" of the Orient is that of a primitive
people that has not yet reached the stage of self-consciousness, then
it cannot have the characteristic of "self-suppression." If, on the
other hand, it is the "impersonality" of "self-suppression," then it
is radically different from that of a primitive people. Advocates of
"impersonality" present both conceptions, quite unconscious apparently
that they are mutually exclusive. If either conception is true, the
other is false.
Furthermore, if self-suppression is a marked characteristic of
Japanese politeness and altruism (as it undoubtedly is when these
qualities are real expressions of the heart and of the general
character), it is a still more characteristic feature of the higher
religious life of the people, which certainly does not tend to
"impersonality." The ascription of esoteric Buddhism to the common
people by advocates of the "impersonal" theory is quite a mistake, and
the argument for the "impersonality" of the race on this ground is
without foundation, for the masses of the people are grossly
polytheistic, wholly unable to understand Buddhistic metaphysics, or
to conceive of the nebulous, impersonal Absolute of Buddhism. Now if
consciousness of the unity of nature, and especially of the unity of
the individual soul with the Absolute, were a characteristic of
undeveloped, that is, of undifferentiated mind, then all primitive
peoples should display it in a superlative degree. It should show
itself in every phase of their life. The more primitive the people,
the more divine their life--because the less differentiated from the
original divine mind! Such are the requirements of this theory. But
what are the facts? The primitive undeveloped mind is relatively
unconscious of self; it is wholly objective; it is childlike; it does
not even know that there is self to suppress. Primitive religion is
purely objective. Implicit, in primitive religion without doubt, is
the fact of a unity between God and man, but the primitive man has not
discovered this implication of his religious thinking. This is the
state of mind of a large majority of Japanese.
Yet this is by no means true of all. No nation, with such a continuous
history as Japan has had, would fail to develop a class capable of
considerable introspection. In Japan introspection received early and
powerful impetus from the religion of Buddha. It came with a
philosophy of life based on prolonged and profound introspection. It
commanded each man who would know more than the symbols, who desired,
like Buddha, to attain the great enlightenment and thus become a
Tathagata, a Blessed one, a Buddha, an Enlightened one, to know and
conquer himself. The emphasis laid by thoughtful Buddhism on the need
of self-knowledge, in order to self-suppression, is well recognized by
all careful students. Advocates of Oriental "impersonality" are not
one whit behind others in recognizing it. In this connection we can
hardly do better than quote a few of Mr. Lowell's happy descriptions
of the teaching of philosophic Buddhism.
"This life, it says, is but a chain of sorrows.... These desires that
urge us on are really causes of all our woe. We think they are
ourselves. We are mistaken. They are all illusion.... This
personality, this sense of self, is a cruel deception.... Realize once
the true soul behind it, devoid of attributes ... an invisible part of
the great impersonal soul of nature, then ... will you have found
happiness in the blissful quiescence of Nirvana" [p. 186]. "In desire
alone lies all the ill. Quench the desire, and the deeds [sins of the
flesh] will die of inanition. Get rid, then, said Buddha, of these
passions, these strivings, for the sake of self. As a man becomes
conscious that he himself is something distinct from his body, so if
he reflect and ponder, he will come to see that in like manner, his
appetites, ambitions, hopes, are really extrinsic to the spirit
proper.... Behind desire, behind even the will, lies the soul, the
same for all men, one with the soul of the universe. When he has once
realized this eternal truth, the man has entered Nirvana.... It
[Nirvana] is simply the recognition of the eternal oneness of the two
[the individual and the universal soul]" [p. 189].
Accepting this description of philosophic Buddhism as fairly accurate,
it is plain that the attainment of this consciousness of the unity of
the individual self with the universal is the result, according to
Buddha, and also according to the advocates of "impersonality," of a
highly developed consciousness of self. It is not a simple state of
undifferentiated mind, but a complex and derivative one--absolutely
incomprehensible to a primitive people. The means for this suppression
of self _depends entirely on the development of the consciousness of
self_. The self is the means for casting out the self, and it is done
by that introspection which ultimately leads to the realization of the
unity. If, then, Japanese Buddhism seeks to suppress the self, this
very effort is the most conclusive proof we could demand of the
possession by this people of a highly developed consciousness of self.
It is one of the boasts of Buddhism that a man's saviour is himself;
no other helper, human or divine, can do aught for him. Those who
reject Christianity in Christian lands are quite apt to praise
Buddhism for this rejection of all external help. They urge that by
the very nature of the case salvation is no external thing; each one
must work out his own salvation. It cannot be given by another.
Salvation through an external Christ who lived 1900 years ago is an
impossibility. Such a criticism of Christianity shows real
misunderstanding of the Christian doctrine and method of salvation.
Yet the point to which attention is here directed is not the
correctness or incorrectness of these characterizations of
Christianity, but rather to the fact that "ji-riki," salvation through
self-exertion, which is the boast of Buddhism, is but another proof of
the essentially self-conscious character of Buddhism. It aims at
Nirvana, it is true, at self-suppression, but it depends on the
attainment of clear self-consciousness in the first place, and then on
prolonged self-exertion for the attainment of that end. In proportion
as Buddhism is esoteric is it self-conscious.
Such being the nature of Buddhism, we naturally ask whether or not it
is calculated to develop strongly personalized men and women. If
consciousness of self is the main element of personality, we must
pronounce Buddhism a highly personal rather than impersonal religion,
as is commonly stated. But a religion of the Buddhistic type, which
casts contempt on the self, and seeks its annihilation as the only
means of salvation, has ever tended to destroy personality; it has
made men hermits and pessimists; it has drawn them out of the great
current of active life, and thus has severed them from their
fellow-men. But a prime condition of developed personalities is
largeness and intensity of life, and constant intercourse with
mankind. Personality is developed in the society of persons, not in
the company of trees and stones. Buddhism, which runs either to gross
and superstitious polytheism on its popular side or to pessimistic
introspection on its philosophical side, may possibly, by a stretch of
the term, be called "impersonal" in the sense that it does not help in
the production of strong, rounded personality among its votaries, but
not in the sense that it does not produce self-consciousness.
Buddhism, therefore, cannot be accurately described in terms of
personality or impersonality.
We would do well in this connection to ponder the fact that although
Buddhism in its higher forms does certainly develop consciousness of
self, it does not attribute to that self any worth. In consequence of
this, it never has modified, and however long it might be allowed to
run its course, never could modify, the general social order in the
direction of individualism. This is one reason why the whole Orient
has maintained to modern times its communal nature, in spite of its
high development in so many ways, even in introspection and
self-consciousness.
This failure of Buddhism is all the more striking when we stop to
consider how easy and, to us, natural an inference it would have been
to pass from the perception of the essential unity between the
separate self and the universal soul, to the assertion of the supreme
worth of that separate soul because of the fact of that unity. But
Buddhism never seems to have made that inference. Its compassion on
animals and even insects depended on its doctrine of the
transmigration of souls, not on its doctrine of universal soul unity.
Its mercy was shown to animals in certain whimsical ways, but the
universal lack of sympathy for suffering man, man who could suffer the
most exquisite pains, exposed the shallowness of its solicitude about
destroying life. The whole influence of Buddhism on the social order
was not conducive to the development of personality in the Orient. The
so-called impersonal influence of Buddhism upon the Eastern peoples,
then, is not due to its failure to recognize the separateness of the
human self, on the one hand, nor to its emphasis on the universal
unity subsisting between the separate finite self and the infinite
soul, on the other; but only on its failure to see the infinite worth
of the individual; and in consequence of this failure, its inability
to modify the general social order by the introduction of
individualism.