closely related to the slight value they set upon human life and to the
national delight in tales of bloodshed. Co-existent with the mildness
of their manners and the placid tenor of their domestic life, there
is found, deep in Japanese hearts, a wild delight in carnage, the
legacy, naturally most cherished amongst those of the warrior class,
of centuries of internecine warfare. The sword, “the living soul of
the Samurai,” is still held in reverence as the instrument not only
of national defence against the foreign foe, but of vengeance and
of the chastisement of one looked upon by the wielder of the weapon
as an enemy to the State. Hence the indulgence with which political
assassination is still regarded by the masses in Japan. As the brutal
instincts, inherited from primeval ancestors, often become manifest
in an English-speaking crowd watching a football match or a boxing
contest, so, in Japan, the old savagery reveals itself, time and again,
at fencing bouts, the excited cries of the combatants recalling the
bad, wild days of yore.
[Illustration: JAPANESE ON A PILGRIMAGE]
This fierce spirit seems incompatible with the noble generosity towards
prisoners of war, and the tender care of the enemy’s wounded and
sick, that redounded to the glory of the Japanese in both their great
struggles in our time, the wars against China and against Russia. It is
difficult to believe that savagery can survive in the breasts of people
capable of organising such an admirable institution as the Red Cross
Society of Japan, whose noble work, in war and peace, is one of the
chief glories of New Japan; but it must be remembered that the young
Great Power still feels itself to be undergoing probation under the
eyes of an observant and critical world. The natural instinct of the
Japanese warrior would lead him utterly to destroy the foe who dared to
oppose his Emperor’s will, and it requires the application of the most
severe discipline to make him understand that on his exercise of humane
forbearance to the vanquished depends, to a great extent, his nation’s
good repute among the Powers.
This desire to stand well in the opinion of foreign nations has
been so thoroughly inculcated in the people of New Japan that every
individual brought into contact with foreigners beyond the boundaries
of his native land feels that the honour of Japan is dependent on his
behaviour, even in minute particulars. Hence the high reputation for
excellent conduct enjoyed by Japanese students and others residing, or
travelling, abroad.
[Illustration: A FISH HAWKER IN JAPAN]
The altruism and self-effacement, born of the family system, fostered
by the division of the nation into clans--now officially abolished, but
still binding huge groups of families with strong ties--and culminating
in the most complete devotion to the head of the national family,
the Emperor, are the causes of a peculiar defect in the Japanese
character--the lack of individuality. It may be said of the Japanese
that, on most important matters, they feel and think by millions.
The whole system of their civilisation tends to make individual
effort subservient to the common cause; the reverence and obedience
inculcated from early childhood are not likely to develop the spirit
of individuality. Hence the wonderful facility with which the Japanese
combine to carry out any policy they recognise as needful for the
public welfare once that course has been clearly indicated by their
trusted leaders as one that has the Emperor’s approval.
[Illustration: A PEASANT IN A RAIN CLOAK
(Made of straw.)
]
Japan is, for this reason, the land where leagues, unions, guilds,
trusts and “combines” work with astonishing efficiency, such
institutions being, by their very nature, well suited to the national
character. There are, of course, exceptional Japanese who chafe under
the repression of their strong individuality; these occasionally break
through the national custom and strike out an independent line. Their
fate is not encouraging to those who might be tempted to follow their
example. Public opinion reproves them, and they are soon made to feel
that their conduct is looked upon as anti-national. Those amongst
them who will not bow their heads to the popular verdict, and refuse
to be reduced to the level at which the nation strives to keep the
individual, soon find life in their own country unbearable. In various
cities of Europe, still more in those of North America, such Japanese
individualists may be found living in self-imposed exile, shunned by
their compatriots, until the day, which comes to most of them, when
they submit and go home to resume their place in the ranks of a nation
that abhors eccentricity and expects every man to fit into his proper
groove in the great national machine.
The mental activity of the Japanese, their respect for knowledge and
for all intellectual pursuits, causing them to admire keen wits and
exercise of brainpower, have probably contributed in a large measure
to form one of the traits in their character that is repellant to
Occidentals--their inclination to be cunning and deceitful. In spite of
the high and pure ideals of their chivalry, they have not our loathing
for deceit, our contempt for chicanery, our respect for the truth. A
Japanese convicted of an untruth merely conceals his annoyance at being
found out by a smile, sometimes by a laugh, and is not deterred from
another statement at variance with facts should he consider it useful
to make one. Low cunning is frequently looked upon as cleverness;
the suppression of facts is so common that there is no other country
where it is so difficult to arrive at the truth. The national failing
of intense secretiveness arises, no doubt, from the suspicious nature
of the people, who distrust not only all foreigners, but even most of
their own race--a condition of mind due, to a great extent, to the
widely ramified system of spying that flourished during the rule of the
Tokugawa Shōguns, and still exists to a lesser degree.
Their infinite capacity for attention to the most minute details leads
to a certain pettiness, a disinclination to consider great abstract
questions, and, consequently, to a narrowness of view that accounts
for some of the blunders which occur in the execution of the otherwise
marvellously efficient policy of the rulers of Japan.
[Sidenote: Manners of the Haughty Samurai]
The exquisite politeness of the Japanese is responsible for a great
part of that insincerity with which they are taxed by Occidentals
who have been much in contact with them. This extreme courtesy makes
them so anxious to avoid any speech that might possibly give offence
that they frequently distort the truth, suppress it entirely, or
replace it by polite fiction, intended to give pleasure. It should be
remembered that, in the knightly times of old--they continued until
the early ’seventies of the nineteenth century--a Japanese had to be
very guarded in his speech and demeanour; quite unintentionally, a word
lightly spoken, an incautious gesture, might give dire offence to a
Samurai--one of the gentry, privileged to wear two swords--who would be
quick to resent the fancied slight to his punctilious sense of personal
dignity. Insults, real, and often imaginary, were wiped out with blood.
Hence the endeavour to avoid any possible cause of offence, for the
same reason that made Europeans very circumspect in their behaviour in
the days when gentlemen wore swords and drew them on small provocation.
[Illustration: THE END OF A JAPANESE FEAST: BRINGING IN THE SEA-BREAM]
To such a pitch was punctilio carried amongst Japanese gentlemen until
quite recent times that they preferred death, inflicted by their own
hands in the most painful manner--by self-disembowelment, or hara-kiri,
more elegantly termed seppuku, or “self-immolation”--to living with
a stain on their honour, such stain being often merely inability to
disprove a slanderous imputation. To this day, the Japanese remain the
most acutely sensitive people on the point of honour; so “touchy” are
they that friendly intercourse with Occidentals is thereby rendered
extremely difficult.
What places an additional bar to perfect cordiality in such relations
is the deplorable fact that an Occidental may unwittingly give grave
offence to a Japanese without the latter giving any sign of displeasure
at the time. Allowance is seldom made for the perfectly unintentional
error on the part of the offender, whilst the grievance is allowed to
rankle, is rarely forgiven, and never forgotten. Where an Occidental
would certainly call his friend’s attention to the fact that he was
displeased by some remark or action that would, no doubt, be promptly
atoned for by a sincere apology, thus terminating the incident, the
Japanese says nothing. He nurses his resentment, sometimes for years,
until a fitting opportunity presents itself to avenge the real, or
fancied, wound to his feelings by some particularly unpleasant action
directed against the Occidental, all unconscious of his offence.
This unfortunate peculiarity of the Japanese character is the outcome
of two main currents that run through the national temperament--the
spirit of secrecy, already alluded to, and the thirst for revenge. The
latter, possibly due to the strain of Malay blood in the much-mixed
Japanese race, is one of the chief stumbling-blocks hindering the
introduction of Christianity, and has prevented Buddhism, also a
religion teaching meekness, from obtaining a complete hold on the
people. In its petty forms, this spirit of long-cherished spite is
merely annoying; in its extreme manifestations it becomes exceedingly
dangerous.
It may be thought that the admirable magnanimity displayed by the
Japanese towards the vanquished in their wars with China and with
Russia affords evidence that the old spirit of revenge is dying out.
Unfortunately, it is as strong as ever, the explanation of the apparent
anomaly being that, in both cases, the foe was vanquished, and thus
became, according to the principles of Japanese chivalry, an object
for mercy and compassion. As long as the opponent resists, or refuses
to surrender at the mercy of the conqueror, he is implacably attacked;
the moment he has, metaphorically speaking, grovelled and placed the
victor’s foot on his head, he is raised from the ground and treated
with the greatest consideration.
[Illustration: A GROUP OF CIVIL AND MILITARY OFFICIALS IN OLD JAPAN]
This applies not only to warfare, but to those incidents in civil life,
already alluded to, in which a Japanese considers himself aggrieved,
especially when the offender is a foreigner. In such cases, humble
apology for the slight, however unintentional--in fact, an attitude
amounting to “I do not know what I have done to offend; but, in any
case, I own I am in the wrong, and promise, with sincere apologies, not
to offend again; deal with me as you think fit,” would generally ensure
the restoration of good relations, provided the apology be sufficiently
public to gratify the self-esteem of the Japanese. It is hardly to be
expected that a self-respecting Occidental would demean himself thus to
atone for an error unconsciously committed.
[Sidenote: Defects of Japanese Character]
Japanese self-esteem has just been mentioned; it often becomes
insufferable arrogance, showing plainly, through a cloak of false
modesty, “the pride that apes humility.” This arrogance, displayed
chiefly towards foreigners, but also by Japanese in official positions
towards their fellow-countrymen of inferior rank, is intimately
connected with another national failing, excessive vanity. It is less
noticeable amongst sailors and soldiers than amongst civil officials of
corresponding rank.
Minor failings of the Japanese are jealousy, envy of those who achieve
success, and, connected with these faults, a great love of gossip and
a readiness to listen to slander, or to disseminate it.
[Illustration: A STREET SCENE IN A VILLAGE OF OLD JAPAN]
[Sidenote: Japanese Ideas of Modesty]
There are, finally, two charges to be examined that are frequently
levelled at the Japanese by those who profess to know them well--the
accusations of immorality, sexual and commercial. The first of these
charges may be disposed of by the statement that the Japanese are about
as moral in their sexual relations as the Latin nations of Europe,
with the advantage slightly in favour of the Japanese. What has given
them an evil repute in this respect is, probably, the fact that they
consider as natural, and treat accordingly, certain evils that the
Northern Occidental peoples affect to ignore. The natural, simple
life led by the vast majority of Japanese predisposes them to take a
natural, sensible view of matters that the less primitive conditions of
Western civilisation have imbued with an objectionable significance.
They see, for instance, no harm in nudity where it is unavoidable,
as in bathing, or convenient, as in the performance of hard work in
hot weather. A Japanese woman will feel no shame at being seen naked
when entering or leaving the daily bath, but would strongly object to
what she would consider the gross immodesty of exposing a considerable
surface of her body in Occidental evening dress. In the first case,
the nudity is looked upon as quite natural; in the second, as useless
and provocative of pruriency.
[Sidenote: National Honour in Commerce]
As to the commercial morality of the Japanese, it is necessary to
observe the great difference that exists between the position, in this
respect, of Japanese State institutions, financial and commercial
corporations, and firms of the first rank on the one hand, and the
great mass of traders on the other. The Imperial Japanese Government,
municipal corporations, and the great financial institutions and
industrial and commercial associations under State control (such as
subsidised steamship companies), have always met their obligations with
scrupulous fidelity and are likely to continue to do so. With them
the national honour is considered at stake; it is certain that the
last Japanese will part with his last garment sooner than involve the
national credit in disgrace by failure to meet the nation’s engagements
towards the foreign creditor.
[Sidenote: Results of Old Class Divisions]
It is, unfortunately, quite otherwise in the case of the great bulk
of the trading classes. There are, in Japan, a number of first-class
firms, some of them established for centuries, whose reputation is
above reproach; but between these and the majority of the merchants a
great gulf is fixed. It must be remembered that, until the beginning
of the New Era, in the early ’seventies of the nineteenth century, the
trading community formed the lowest of the four classes, then sharply
and immutably divided one from the other, composing that part of the
Japanese nation that had full civil rights (below them stood only the
Eta, who carried on despised occupations, involving contamination by
contact with dead bodies, human or animal, and the outcast Hi-nin).
[Illustration: IN THE OUTSKIRTS OF YEDO, NOW TŌKIO, THE CAPITAL OF
JAPAN]
The nation was divided into Shi, the nobility and gentry, the military,
scholarly and administrative class; No, the agriculturists; Ko, the
craftsmen, with whom the artists were counted; and Sho, the traders,
placed below farmers and handicraftsmen as non-producers.
The natural consequence of this low place in the social scale was a
lack of self-respect on the part of those engaged in commerce and
finance that led them to be unmindful of their good repute. Trade and
finance were looked upon by the majority as occupations unworthy of
a gentleman and beneath the callings of the peasant and the workman;
every trick was considered excusable when practised by the merchant,
whose whole business was looked upon as a sort of warfare, in which
cunning stratagem could be legitimately employed to the end of personal
gain, a purpose appearing most unworthy to the classes swayed by the
old knightly spirit. The evil effects, on a class as on an individual,
of a bad reputation and consequent public contempt have, unfortunately,
outlived the abolition of the old social divisions. The Japanese
merchants and bankers no longer form a separate and despised class;
the gentry, even members of the aristocracy, are engaging every day
more and more in financial, industrial and commercial pursuits, many of
them with marked success, yet the old taint adheres to the bulk of the
trading community.
[Sidenote: The Desire to Trick the Foreigner]
There are, of course, many strictly honourable dealers in Japan, even
amongst the smaller tradespeople and retailers. It is amongst the
wholesale merchants and the brokers that lapses from the straight
path of commercial integrity are still frequent, especially in their
dealings with foreigners. It is, unfortunately, still the case that an
advantage gained over the foreigner, even by the most shady methods, is
looked upon as, in some way, a national victory. This deplorable point
of view is likely to prevail as long as Japanese nationalism exists in
its extreme form.
[Sidenote: Japanese National Finance]
The Japanese Government has, time after time, loudly proclaimed, by
the mouths of its statesmen at home, and its representatives abroad,
its desire to facilitate, in every way, the introduction of foreign
capital, the vital influence so urgently required for the realisation
of Japan’s bold schemes of industrial and commercial development.
Strange to say, this cordial invitation, though energetically responded
to by the capitalists of Europe, especially of Britain, and by those
of America, has not, as yet, led to the investment of any very
considerable sums in Japanese enterprises, although, as is well-known,
the Japanese Government has easily borrowed many millions sterling in
London, New York and Paris, for purposes of State. The chief obstacle
to the investment on a large scale, of foreign capital in Japanese
enterprises is to be found in the fact that, forgetting that capital
is, after all, a commodity, therefore subject to the laws of supply and
demand, the Japanese financial and industrial classes do not realise
that the capitalist, being virtually the seller, controls the price of
his property.
[Sidenote: The Social Qualities of the Japanese]
A mistaken impression appears to prevail in Japan that foreign capital
is _obliged_ to find an outlet in the Empire of the Rising Sun and
must, therefore, submit to such conditions as may seem suitable to the
Japanese and accept such security as the Japanese may deem sufficient.
As long as this erroneous view obtains, there can be no considerable
influx of foreign money into the coffers of Japanese industrial and
commercial concerns. Experience is proverbially the best teacher; the
dearth of funds that is certain to follow, in due time, the abnormal
and feverish activity which is animating Japanese economic conditions,
immediately after the successful issue of the great struggle with
Russia, will undoubtedly induce a more reasonable appreciation of
the circumstances. Once the Japanese have been taught by experience
that they must regulate their demands by the lowest terms considered
acceptable by the foreign holders of capital, a vast and profitable
field will lie before those Occidental capitalists who have the
advantage of expert advice in their selection of Japanese investments.
As a general rule, it may be stated that intercourse with the people
of Japan leaves Occidentals very favourably impressed with the social
qualities of the inhabitants of the island empire. Their exquisite
courtesy, their gentle manners, and the thousand ways in which they
demonstrate that kindness of heart that lubricates the wheels of life’s
machinery all tend to make ordinary, everyday relations with Japanese a
delightful experience. It is only when the more serious aspects of life
are approached that the Occidental begins to feel the wide divergence
between his point of view, in nearly every important matter, and that
of the Japanese.
[Sidenote: Courtesy of the Japanese]
It is exceedingly difficult to specify with exactitude the particular
feature of the Japanese character which lies at the root of the
unfortunate fact that nearly all Occidentals who have had serious
dealings with the people of Dai Nippon have emerged from their
experience exasperated and often disgusted. It is probable that want of
candour is the trait that acts as the sharpest irritant, for it must be
confessed that frankness, so highly prized by Occidentals, especially
by those of the nations that “push the world along,” is neither
appreciated at its true value nor generally practised by the Japanese.
The very nature of their elaborate courtesy makes them shrink from
that bluff frankness which obtains amongst Occidentals on a footing of
intimate friendship. Even the Japanese mode of speech is a hindrance
to direct statement of fact; a Japanese, asked if he has ever been in
England, will reply, in his own tongue, “Yes,” and, after a pause, “I
have _never_ visited England.” He would not deem it polite to shock his
questioner by a direct negative!
[Illustration: THE AMAZING SUICIDE: A GHASTLY FACT IN THE LIFE OF OLD
JAPAN
This picture represents the Japanese custom of “Hara-kiri,” or
disembowelment, known also as “Seppuku,” or self-immolation, the
form of suicide which was the privilege of gentry in Old Japan
instead of death at the hands of the executioner. Instances of this
ghastly act occurred frequently during the Russo-Japanese war,
Japanese destroying themselves rather than surrender. The standing
figure in the picture is the best friend of the man about to die,
acting as his kai-shaku, or second, ready to strike off his head on
receiving the sign from the dying man.
]
Another peculiarity of the Japanese character, that is apt to loom
large in Occidental eyes as a grave national failing, is the lack
of the spirit of gratitude, as it is understood by the white races.
The Japanese have, hitherto, never failed to deal out fair measure,
according to the letter of the contract, to the numerous Occidentals
whom they have employed, as advisers and instructors, in adapting
Western civilisation to the material needs of their re-organised
empire; their labours, as well as those of friends of Japan who have
rendered voluntary, unpaid services, have also been recognised by the
bestowal of marks of Imperial favour; but it is doubtful whether a real
feeling of what we term gratitude has ever entered the hearts of
the nation towards the many distinguished men who have given of their
best to assist in the making of New Japan, or to spread a knowledge of
its greatness. This doubt does not apply to the Navy and Army; those
gallant forces, keeping the sacred fire of chivalry alight, show deep
gratitude to the British sailors and European soldiers--French and,
after them, Germans--who instructed them in the modern art of war.
[Illustration: TYPICAL JAPANESE OF THE MIDDLE CLASS]
Sympathy with their aspirations is, of course, cordially welcomed from
every quarter by the Japanese; they are delighted to receive help of
any kind from Occidental friends at such times as, in their view,
render such assistance or sympathy necessary. When the occasion has
passed, and they feel independent of foreign support, they not only
cease to make any effort to attract, but take no pains to conceal their
indifference to it. This attitude, induced by the severely practical
nature of their policy, is repugnant to Occidental feeling, and has
caused the accusation to be brought against the Japanese that they
treat their foreign friends “like lemons, to be thrown away once the
juice has been squeezed out of them.”