The great success at first achieved by the Portuguese missions

remains to be considered. In our present comparative ignorance of

Japanese social history, it is not easy to understand the whole of

the Christian episode. There are plenty of Jesuit-missionary [331]

records; but the Japanese contemporary chronicles yield us scanty

information about the missions--probably for the reason that an edict

was issued in the seventeenth century interdicting, not only all

books on the subject of Christianity, but any book containing the

words Christian or Foreign. What the Jesuit books do not explain, and

what we should rather have expected Japanese historians to explain,

had they been allowed, is how a society founded on ancestor-worship,

and apparently possessing immense capacity for resistance to outward

assault, could have been so quickly penetrated and partly dissolved

by Jesuit energy. The question of all questions that I should like to

see answered, by Japanese evidence, is this: To what extent did the

missionaries interfere with the ancestor-cult? It is an important

question. In China, the Jesuits were quick to perceive that the power

of resistance to proselytism lay in ancestor-worship; and they

shrewdly endeavoured to tolerate it, somewhat as Buddhism before them

had been obliged to do. Had the Papacy supported their policy, the

Jesuits might have changed the history of China; but other religious

orders fiercely opposed the compromise, and the chance was lost. How

far the ancestor-cult was tolerated by the Portuguese missionaries in

Japan is a matter of much sociological interest for investigation.

The supreme cult was, of course, left alone, for obvious reasons. It

is difficult to suppose that the [332] domestic cult was attacked

then as implacably as it is attacked now by Protestant and Roman

Catholic missionaries alike;--is difficult to suppose, for example,

that Converts were compelled to cast away or to destroy their

ancestral tablets. On the other hand, we are yet in doubt as to

whether many of the poorer converts--servants and other common

folk--possessed a domestic ancestor-cult. The outcast classes, among

whom many converts were made, need not be considered, of course, in

this relation. Before the matter can be fairly judged, much remains

to be learned about the religious condition of the heimin during the

sixteenth century. Anyhow, whatever methods were followed, the early

success of the missions was astonishing. Their work, owing to the

particular character of the social organization, necessarily began

from the top: the subject could change his creed only by permission

of his lord. From the outset this permission was freely granted. In

some cases the people were officially notified that they were at

liberty to adopt the new religion; in other cases, converted lords

ordered them to do so. It would seem that the foreign faith was at

first mistaken for a new kind of Buddhism; and in the extant official

grant of land at Yamaguchi to the Portuguese mission, in 1552, the

Japanese text plainly states that the grant (which appears to have

included a temple called Daidoji) was made to the strangers that they

might preach [333] the Law of Buddha "--Buppo shoryo no tame. The

original document is thus translated by Sir Ernest Satow, who

reproduced it in facsimile:--

"With respect to Daidoji in Yamaguchi Agata, Yoshiki department,

province of Suwo. This deed witnesses that I have given permission to

the priests who have come to this country from the Western regions,

in accordance with their request and desire, that they may found and

erect a monastery and house in order to develope the Law of Buddha.

"The 28th day of the 8th month of the 21st year of Tembun.

"SUWO NO SUKE.

[August Seal]"*

[*In the Latin and Portuguese translations, or rather pretended

translations of this document, there is nothing about preaching the

Law of Buddha; and there are many things added which do not exist in

the Japanese text at all. See Transactions of the Asiatic Society of

Japan (Vol. VIII, Part II) for Satow's comment on this document and

the false translation made of it.]

If this error [or deception?] could have occurred at Yamaguchi, it is

reasonable to suppose that it also occurred in other places.

Exteriorly the Roman rites resembled those of popular Buddhism: the

people would have observed but little that was unfamiliar to them in

the forms of the service, the vestments, the beads, the prostrations,

the images, the bells, and the incense. The virgins and the saints

would have been found to resemble the aureoled Boddhisattvas and

Buddhas; the angels and the demons would have been at once identified

with the Tennin [334] and the Oni. All that pleased popular

imagination in the Buddhist ceremonial could be witnessed, under

slightly different form, in those temples which had been handed over

to the Jesuits, and consecrated by them as churches or chapels. The

fathomless abyss really separating the two faiths could not have been

perceived by the common mind; but the outward resemblances were

immediately observable. There were furthermore some attractive

novelties. It appears, for example, that the Jesuits used to have

miracle-plays performed in their churches for the purpose of

attracting popular attention.... But outward attractions of whatever

sort, or outward resemblances to Buddhism, could only assist the

spread of the new religion; they could not explain the rapid progress

of the propaganda.

Coercion might partly explain it,--coercion exercised by converted

daimyo upon their subjects. Populations of provinces are known to

have followed, under strong compulsion, the religion of their

converted lords; and hundreds--perhaps thousands--of persons must

have done the same thing through mere habit of loyalty. In these

cases it is worth while to consider what sort of persuasion was used

upon the daimyo. We know that one great help to the missionary work

was found in Portuguese commerce,--especially the trade in firearms

and ammunition. In the disturbed state of the country [335] preceding

the advent to power of Hideyoshi, this trade was a powerful bribe in

religious negotiation with provincial lords. The daimyo able to use

firearms would necessarily possess some advantage over a rival lord

having no such weapons; and those lords able to monopolize the trade

could increase their power at the expense of their neighbours. Now

this trade was actually offered for the privilege of preaching; and

sometimes much more than that privilege was demanded and obtained. In

1572 the Portuguese presumed to ask for the whole town of Nagasaki,

as a gift to their church,--with power of jurisdiction over the same;

threatening, in case of refusal, to establish themselves elsewhere.

The daimyo, Omura, at first demurred, but eventually yielded; and

Nagasaki then became Christian territory, directly governed by the

Church. Very soon the fathers began to prove the character of their

creed by furious attacks upon the local religion. They set fire to

the great Buddhist temple, Jinguji, and attributed the fire to the

"wrath of God,"--after which act, by the zeal of their converts, some

eighty other temples, in or about Nagasaki, were burnt. Within

Nagasaki territory Buddhism was totally suppressed,--its priests

being persecuted and driven away. In the province of Bungo the Jesuit

persecution of Buddhism was far more violent, and conducted upon an

extensive scale. Otomo Sorin Munechika, the reigning daimyo, not

[336] only destroyed all the Buddhist temples in his dominion (to the

number, it is said, of three thousand), but had many of the Buddhist

priests put to death. For the destruction of the great temple of

Hikozan, whose priests were reported to have prayed for the tyrant's

death, he is said to have maliciously chosen the sixth day of the

fifth month (1576),--the festival of the Birthday of the Buddha!

Coercion, exercised by their lords upon a docile people trained to

implicit obedience, would explain something of the initial success of

the missions; but it would leave many other matters unexplained: the

later success of the secret propaganda, the fervour and courage of

the converts under persecution, the long-continued indifference of

the chiefs of the ancestor-cult to the progress of the hostile

faith.... When Christianity first began to spread through the Roman

empire, the ancestral religion had fallen into decay, the structure

of society had lost its original form, and there was no religious

conservatism really capable of successful resistance. But in the

Japan of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the religion of the

ancestors was very much alive; and society was only entering upon the

second period of its yet imperfect integration. The Jesuit

conversions were not made among a people already losing their ancient

faith, but in one of the most intensely religious and conservative

societies that ever existed. Christianity of any sort could not [337]

have been introduced into such a society without effecting structural

disintegrations,--disintegrations, at least, of a local character.

How far these disintegrations extended and penetrated we do not know;

and we have yet no adequate explanation of the long inertia of the

native religious instinct in the face of danger.

But there are certain historical facts which appear to throw at least

a side-light upon the subject. The early Jesuit policy in China, as

established by Ricci, had been to leave converts free to practise the

ancestral rites. So long as this policy was followed, the missions

prospered. When, in consequence of this compromise, dissensions

arose, the matter was referred to Rome. Pope Innocent X decided for

intolerance by a bull issued in 1645; and the Jesuit missions were

thereby practically ruined in China. Pope Innocent's decision was

indeed reversed the very next year by a bull of Pope Alexander VIII;

but again and again contests were raised by the religious bodies over

this question of ancestor-worship, until in 1693 Pope Clement XI

definitively prohibited converts from practising the ancestral rites

under any form whatsoever.... All the efforts of all the missions in

the Far East have ever since then failed to advance the cause of

Christianity. The sociological reason is plain.

We have seen, then, that up to the year 1645 the ancestor-cult had

been tolerated by the Jesuits [338] in China, with promising results;

and it is probable that an identical policy of tolerance was

maintained in Japan during the second half of the sixteenth century.

The Japanese missions began in 1549, and their history ends with the

Shimabara slaughter in 1638,--about seven years before the first

Papal decision against the tolerance of ancestor-worship. The Jesuit

mission-work seems to have prospered steadily, in spite of all

opposition, until it was interfered with by less cautious and more

uncompromising zealots. By a bull issued in 1585 by Gregory XIII, and

confirmed in 1600 by Clement III, the Jesuits alone were authorized

to do missionary-work in Japan; and it was not until after their

privileges had been ignored by Franciscan zeal that trouble with the

government began. We have seen that in 1593 Hideyoshi had six

Franciscans executed. Then the issue of a new Papal bull in 1608, by

Paul V, allowing Roman Catholic missionaries of all orders to work in

Japan, probably ruined the Jesuit interests. It will be remembered

that Iyeyasu suppressed the Franciscans in 1612,--a proof that their

experience with Hideyoshi had profited them little. On the whole, it

appears more than likely that both Dominicans and Franciscans

recklessly meddled with matters which the Jesuits (whom they accused

of timidity) had been wise enough to leave alone, and that this

interference hastened the inevitable ruin of the missions.

[339] We may reasonably doubt whether there were a million Christians

in Japan at the beginning of the seventeenth century: the more

probable claim of six hundred thousand can be accepted. In this era

of toleration the efforts of all the foreign missionary bodies

combined, and the yearly expenditure of immense sums in support of

their work, have enabled them to achieve barely one-fifth f the

success attributed to their Portuguese predecessors, upon a not

incredible estimate. The sixteenth-century Jesuits were indeed able

to exercise, through various lords, the most forcible sort of

coercion upon whole populations of provinces; but the modern missions

certainly enjoy advantages educational, financial, and legislative,

much outweighing the doubtful value of the power to coerce; and the

smallness of the results which they have achieved seems to require

explanation. The explanation is not difficult. Needless attacks upon

the ancestor-cult are necessarily attacks upon the constitution of

society; and Japanese society instinctively resists these assaults

upon its ethical basis. For it is an error to suppose that this

Japanese society has yet arrived even at such a condition as Roman

society presented in the second or third century of our era. Rather

it remains at a stage resembling that of a Greek or Latin society

many centuries before Christ. The introduction of railroads,

telegraphs, modern arms of precision, modern applied science of all

kinds, has not yet [340] sufficed to change the fundamental order of

things, Superficial disintegrations are rapidly proceeding; new

structures are forming; but the social condition still remains much

like that which, in southern Europe, long preceded the introduction

of Christianity.

Though every form of religion holds something of undying truth, the

evolutionist must classify religions. He must regard a monotheistic

faith as representing, in the progress of human thought, a very

considerable advance upon any polytheistic creed; monotheism

signifying the fusion and expansion of countless ghostly beliefs into

one vast concept of unseen omnipotent power. And, from the standpoint

of psychological evolution, he must of course consider pantheism as

an advance upon monotheism, and must further regard agnosticism as an

advance upon both. But the value of a creed is necessarily relative,

and the question of its worth is to be decided, not by its

adaptability to the intellectual developments of a single cultured

class, but by its larger emotional relation to the whole society of

which it embodies the moral experience. Its value to any other

society must depend upon its power of self-adaptation to the ethical

experience of that society. We may grant that Roman Catholicism was,

by sole virtue of its monotheistic conception, a stage in advance of

the primitive ancestor-worship. But it was adapted only to a form of

society at [341] which neither Chinese nor Japanese civilization had

arrived,--a form of society in which the ancient family had been

dissolved, and the religion of filial piety forgotten. Unlike that

subtler and incomparably more humane creed of India, which had

learned the secret of missionary-success a thousand years before

Loyola, the religion of the Jesuits could never have adapted itself

to the social conditions of Japan; and by the fact of this incapacity

the fate of the missions was really decided in advance. The

intolerance, the intrigues, the savage persecutions carried on,--all

the treacheries and cruelties of the Jesuits,--may simply be

considered as the manifestations of such incapacity; while the

repressive measures taken by Iyeyasu and his successors signify

sociologically no more than the national perception of supreme

danger. It was recognized that the triumph of the foreign religion

would involve the total disintegration of society, and the subjection

of the empire to foreign domination.

Neither the artist nor the sociologist, at least, can regret the

failure of the missions. Their extirpation, which enabled Japanese

society to evolve to its type-limit, preserved for modern eyes the

marvellous world of Japanese art, and the yet more marvellous world

of its traditions, beliefs, and customs. Roman Catholicism,

triumphant, would have swept all this out of existence. The natural

antagonism [342] of the artist to the missionary may be found in the

fact that the latter is always, and must be, an unsparing destroyer.

Everywhere the developments of art are associated in some sort with

religion; and by so much as the art of a people reflects their

beliefs, that art will be hateful to the enemies of those beliefs.

Japanese art, of Buddhist origin, is especially an art of religious

suggestion,--not merely as regards painting and sculpture, but

likewise as regards decoration, and almost every product of aesthetic

taste. There is something of religious feeling associated even with

the Japanese delight in trees and flowers, the charm of gardens, the

love of nature and of nature's voices,--with all the poetry of

existence, in short. Most assuredly the Jesuits and their allies

would have ended all this, every detail of it, without the slightest

qualm. Even could they have understood and felt the meaning of that

world of strange beauty,--result of a race-experience never to be

repeated or replaced,--they would not have hesitated a moment in the

work of obliteration and effacement. To-day, indeed, that wonderful

art-world is being surely and irretrievably destroyed by Western

industrialism. But industrial influence, though pitiless, is not

fanatic; and the destruction is not being carried on with such

ferocious rapidity but that the fading story of beauty can be

recorded for the future benefit of human civilization.

[343]

FEUDAL INTEGRATION

It was under the later Tokugawa Shogun--during the period immediately

preceding the modern regime--that Japanese civilization reached the

limit of its development. No further evolution was possible, except

through social reconstruction. The conditions of this integration

chiefly represented the reinforcement and definition of conditions

preexisting,--scarcely anything in the way of fundamental change.

More than ever before the old compulsory systems of cooperation were

strengthened; more than ever before all details of ceremonial

convention were insisted upon with merciless exactitude. In preceding

ages there had been more harshness; but at no previous period had

there been less liberty. Nevertheless, the results of this increased

restriction were not without ethical value: the time was yet far off

at which personal liberty could prove a personal advantage; and the

paternal coercion of the Tokugawa rule helped to develop and to

accentuate much of what is most attractive in the national character.

Centuries of warfare had previously allowed small opportunity for the

cultivation of the more delicate qualities of that character: the

refinements, the [344] ingenuous kindliness, the joy in life that

afterward lent so rare a charm to Japanese existence. But during two

hundred years of peace, prosperity, and national isolation, the

graceful and winning side of this human nature found chance to bloom;

and the multiform restraints of law and custom then quickened and

curiously shaped the blossoming,--as the gardener's untiring art

evolves the flowers of the chrysanthemum into a hundred forms of

fantastic beauty.... Though the general social tendency under

pressure was toward rigidity, constraint left room, in special

directions, for moral and aesthetic cultivation.

Japan: An Attempt at Interpretation · 第 19 / 29 段