THE SPY SYSTEM--THE BATH-HOUSE.
There are two Japanese customs so diametrically opposed to English
ideas, and so materially affecting the national character, that it is
necessary to call special attention to them.
The espionage system is perhaps the strangest, as every one in the
country is subjected to it, from the Mikado and Tycoon, or spiritual
and temporal emperors, to the humblest of the people.
All offices of importance are double; that is to say, every governor
of a town or district is associated with a vice-governor, who is an
'ometsky,' or 'spy,' upon him, and is in turn spied upon by others. In
this way a constant check is kept upon the executive of the empire.
In addition to this acknowledged system, government officials are
frequently watched by secret spies, who, for aught they know, may be
some apparently trusty friend: so that, even in the absence of their
double, they can never be certain that they are free from supervision.
In private life families spy on each other, for which purpose they are
divided into coteries of five households, the heads of which are not
only responsible for themselves, their families and servants, but also
for the other members of the coterie; and any wrong-doing in one
household must be immediately reported to the proper authorities, to
secure the rest from sharing in the punishment of the offence.
To such an extent is this system of responsibility carried, that a
whole district sometimes suffers for the offence of one of its
residents. In the towns where the streets are intersected with
barriers a few hundred yards apart, which are always closed at night,
the people living within these enclosures are often under the ban of
the officials for some irregularity which has occurred within the
limits. This constant espionage has, of course a very pernicious
effect upon the character of the people, as it necessarily instils
feelings of distrust and suspicion among near neighbours. Yet it is
marvellous how well their social system works, and still more
marvellous that the officials, who in public life practise every kind
of deception and artifice, should be, and from all accounts deservedly
so, distinguished in private life for their truthfulness, candour, and
hospitality.
The other notable peculiarity is the indiscriminate manner in which
the sexes mingle in the public bath-houses. All Japanese perform their
ablutions once or twice a-day; for which purpose the poorer classes
resort to the bath-houses, which are generally open to the road or
street.
[Illustration: UYA, OR BATH-HOUSE.]
Some bath-houses have the women's lavatory separate; and one of these
is the subject of the illustration. This arrangement, however, is more
for convenience than in compliance with the demands of modesty as is
evidenced by the fact that a male attendant is supplying water; and
that his presence is plainly a matter of perfect indifference to the
women bathing, with their children, in his immediate vicinity.
But it is in the common bath-room where this extraordinary feature of
Japanese life unmistakeably presents itself. There men, women and
children, perform their ablutions together, with all the apparent
innocency of our first parents. The proceedings are conducted with
perfect order and good-nature. The steaming occupants make way for one
another with ball-room politeness; they laugh and chat over their
tubs, discuss the public notices on the walls, or, maybe, saunter
occasionally to the open door or window, to look at something which
has attracted their attention, or to exchange greetings with a passing
friend. All this is done with a freedom that speaks for itself of
their utter unconsciousness of any impropriety in their conduct.
Frequently a lady is assisted by her husband in the cleansing
process; and this is not necessarily a matrimonial compliment, as
regular bathing-men are employed for the convenience of those who
require such attention.
The favourite times for bathing are the middle of the day and the
evening; but in the summer the bath-houses are always full.
[Illustration: Going home from the Bath-house. (Native drawing.)]
The _modus operandi_ is very simple. The bather, after duly depositing
his straw shoes at the door and paying a few cash for admittance, at
once proceeds to disrobe himself, placing his garments in an allotted
compartment. He then secures a tub, which is filled with lukewarm
water, and, squatting down before it, lathers himself with a
vegetable, soapy material, which is sewn up in a small bag. At this
stage of the proceeding he will probably enter into conversation with
his neighbours, complacently rejoicing in his soapiness until the
remonstrances of the bathing-house man, or of some would-be possessor
of his tub, compel him to finish his ablutions.
It would seem natural to conclude that such a system must have immoral
effects, but the Japanese attribute no evil consequences to it. They
say that, being accustomed to it from childhood, it only enables them
to carry out those habits of cleanliness which distinguish alike their
persons and their homes.
It is amusing to notice the care taken by the Japanese to protect
themselves from a second bath on returning from the bath-houses to
their homes in rainy weather. The artisan with the umbrella (which
bears his name and direction, by the way) is an instance of this.