consider that the first enterprise in steam navigation was started only
in 1868 between Osaka and Tokio, and in 1880 the Company possessed a
fleet comprising about fifty boats. Skippers, engineers, and all the
chief officers, were Westerners, and nearly all Englishmen. But the
Japanese proved to be apt pupils, and every year a greater number of
foreigners were replaced by natives. To-day there are only the captains
and a few other officers on the international lines who are still
foreigners, but even their days are numbered.
During my lengthened stay in the Far East, I travelled a great deal on
their lines, crossed the Yellow Sea in several directions, went down
once to Shanghai and once to Hong Kong, made an expedition to the
Philippines and the neighbouring islands, and, finally, made a journey
in one of their largest boats to Australasia; and I can speak of them
with high praise in every respect. Of course, a great many of the boats
are built in England, with all the latest improvements. They have
electric light and ventilators. And if people who are hard to please
sometimes find fault with the _chef's_ department, I think they are
epicures who would make the same objections on all other lines. But
every one unites in praising the general cleanliness on board.
One of the suburbs of Tokio is almost entirely devoted to shipbuilding,
and on the strand of the large inner bay there are numberless boats in
course of construction, though the most important shipbuilding yards are
in Nagasaki. Tokio itself is the central point of all the most important
commercial enterprises. The national and other banks, railway and
shipping companies, all have their headquarters here. Next the modest,
old-fashioned wooden houses, huge palaces of brick and steel tower
aloft, built on the newest principles of American skyscrapers. I must
confess I don't admire them, and I was sadly disappointed to find such
commonplace and up-to-date erections in the Mikado's capital, where I
expected to be delighted with mysterious pagodas of a romantic age.
Every day I passed several hours in these huge blocks, and steadily
became more and more interested in Japan's commercial activity. In fact,
since the reorganization of the country on Western principles the
questions of education and commerce are the most pressing of all the
problems with which they are confronted. Since the establishment of the
new era, which opened their once secluded country to the outer world,
transformed their patriarchal system of government into a parliamentary
constitution, and reformed the whole army and effected a complete change
in the juridical system, the national economics and the education of the
rising generation are the riddles to be solved in the future. All the
commercial life gave me a great opportunity of realizing the exceptional
physical capabilities, diligence, and capacity for hard work, displayed
by this people. The number of hours of work an average man can do in the
fields or in the factories greatly exceeds that of the Western races.
And what is even more striking is the great manual skill shown. The
dexterity of a Japanese artisan is too well known to need description,
but what I cannot omit to mention is the rapidity with which they
execute their work; this faculty seems almost instinctive or innate, and
one glance at a model is enough to enable the workman to reproduce the
object with absolute accuracy. Another great advantage possessed by
them is that the necessaries of life are so restricted. The frugal meals
consist merely of a little rice or raw fish; for luxury they have half a
cup of _sakki_ or rice wine, and for recreation and pleasure an
afternoon walk in the flowering orchards or cherry-groves. And if they
have a superfluous coin, they can go to the theatres, where national
epics are performed in the old-fashioned fascinating style, and where a
penny gives admittance from morning to night. Their physical endurance
and freshness of mind are two qualities which contribute to the great
success they have achieved. How long will they be able to preserve them
unspoilt? How long will they be able to guard them from corruption? It
is evident that with a different manner of life they are bound to
undergo a change; with an increase of daily needs, dissatisfaction is
certain to grow.
Baron Ivasaki, one of Japan's principal financiers, and the leader of
many social enterprises, after his return from a voyage of investigation
round the world, wrote a most interesting paper, not only dealing with
his personal experiences but pointing out possibilities, both of
financial and moral crises that might occur if the country did not unite
to promote, not only commercial and financial endeavour, but a high
moral tone. All good patriots and friends of Japan agree with the author
in this respect. Unquestionably, there is always a great danger when a
nation's ideals become merely material. It is even more disastrous if
its spiritual life threatens to become extinct. One of the causes of
Japan's strength has been her firm belief in her religious, national,
and domestic codes. The great rapidity with which she has adopted
Western civilization might easily have resulted in her acceptance, not
only of our good points, but also of our bad ones. Considering her
marvellous gift of adaptation, the question arises whether this does not
happen sometimes, to the detriment of better judgment. In her great zeal
to advance and to use all Western means, some of her deeper thinkers
begin to realize the dangers which might beset her. The rapid
transformation of the old social order must develop by gradation to
avoid fresh revolutions, and to spread over the whole country. It is not
enough for her to accept merely the technical side of Western
civilization, she must understand and be fully convinced by its moral
and spiritual principles. The nations of Europe may belong to different
denominations, but their mind and soul are imbued by the higher laws of
Christianity. Baron Ivasaki, in his articles, points out with great
foresight that it is not enough for his countrymen's future greatness
and happiness to improve materially, if there is not a corresponding
moral elevation.
It becomes evident that the most important question of the day is that
of education. During my prolonged stay in the capital I visited a great
many schools and colleges. Besides the well-equipped Government Primary
Schools I saw many Grammar and High Schools, Public and Private
Colleges, and Missionary Establishments. Public instruction, as a rule,
is very satisfactory. The teaching of foreign languages, and especially
of technical knowledge, is quite surprising, and the examinations in
these subjects have the best results. Education, as such, is less
successfully carried out; the chief defect of our Western system of
devoting itself exclusively to the imparting of knowledge, to the
detriment of the formation of character and the arming of the child for
the battle of life, more from a moral than from a material standpoint,
is also the drawback of this country. Among Tokio's scholastic
foundations the University is the most important. To give an epitome of
its history:--
[Illustration: THE STATE EXAMINATION HALL AT PEKIN "The students are
secluded for several days in the small cells, while the professors watch
from the tower" To face page 292]
"The germ of this institution was the _Bansho Shirabejo_, or 'Place for
the Examination of Barbarian Writings,' founded by the Tokugawa
Government in 1856. Seven years later, this name was altered to that of
_Kaisei-jo_, or, 'Place for Developing and Completing,' which indicated
a change for the better in the views held by the Japanese as to the
value of European learning. Numerous other modifications have taken
place, both in the name and scope of the institution, which since 1881
has been placed on a thoroughly modern footing, and now includes
colleges of Law, Medicine, Engineering, Literature, Science and
Agriculture, where lectures are delivered by a large staff of professors
of various nationalities and in various languages. The students number
over 2700. The courses that attract most students are those of Law,
Medicine, and Engineering. A large hospital connected with the
University stands in the same grounds. Other institutions under the
authority of the President of the University are the Botanical Gardens
in the district of Koishikawa, and the Tokio Observatory at Ligura."
It is a large establishment, covering a huge area of park-like ground,
dotted with long red brick piles. Different faculties occupy separate
buildings, and if not picturesque, they are well adapted to their
function. The library is especially fine, very well equipped, and
cleverly organized. It interested me to observe that whenever I came the
large reading-room was always filled with students, and it afforded a
good opportunity of watching the keenness with which they pursue their
studies. I made acquaintance with several of the leading professors,
some of whom are Western. They all assisted me very kindly in my
investigations. The statements of Professor von Koerber, who is the
teacher of the history of modern philosophy, were of especial value. To
judge the mental capacity of the rising generation, it is essential to
see how metaphysical questions appeal to them, and, as I perceived, they
were more prone to accept theories which appealed to their great
imaginative qualities than to draw abstract conclusions by the medium of
purely logical deductions. They prefer Schopenhauer to Kant, Plato to
Aristotle, and so it will be easy to comprehend the unquestionable
influence which the modern evolutionist school exerts over the mind of
young Japan.
Another institution of great importance is the Government Printing
Office, the so-called _Insatsu Kyoku_, its scope including much besides
printing, the paper currency of the country being manufactured here too.
The offices are marvellously equipped, but the skill of the workmen is
even more marvellous. The reproduction of different old prints,
etchings, and watercolours by mechanical means, is a triumph of art, and
the _editions de luxe_ of the old Japanese masters are unique in their
way. As I said before, manual skill and the faculty of copying are
national gifts, and, during my repeated visits to workshops, factories,
and builders' yards, it was these characteristics which most impressed
me. I returned frequently to the new Commercial Museum, where there is
such a good opportunity given to judge what Japan's commercial
production will be in the future. There are already several branches in
which they run us very close, if they don't surpass us. In the
production of cheap articles they are certainly already ahead, and
common calico and cotton goods have not only replaced the European
supply for the requirements of the country, but they almost monopolize
the market of Korea, and export a great deal to China and Eastern Asia.
Cheap china is manufactured to a great extent also, and so are cloth,
felt, and leather goods of all kinds. In the Museum there are specimens
of the different home industries, and if the quality leaves something to
be desired, and does not promise to be very durable, the prices are so
low that the customer can afford to purchase, as all Orientals like to
do, something new constantly. Unquestionably within a very short time
Tokio's and Osaka's large firms will be the great competitors of
Birmingham and Manchester, and the European trade in the East will be
mostly secured by Japan.
In speaking of Tokio's noteworthy establishments, I finish, where I
might have begun, with the Arsenal, where the famous _San-ju-nen Shiki_,
Japan's victorious weapon, is manufactured. Arms, guns, soldiering and
fights are out of my sphere, but I could not help observing the
up-to-date character of Tokio's military equipment. Not only do the
barracks bear witness to perfect order and cleanliness, but the military
schools and training establishments are well organized and demand hard
work in every respect. Soldiers and officers impress us equally by their
neatness and perfect turn-out and their spirit of discipline; and still
more impressive are the extraordinary vivacity and unceasing activity
which they display. Their endurance and capacity for work are, I think,
unsurpassed by any other army.
[Illustration: SHRINES AT NIKKO "To conjure up the past or to recall
bygone traditions, one ought to linger in Nara's sacred groves and
Nikko's hidden shrines" To face page 296]
Finally, if I were asked to enumerate the interesting sights of Tokio,
or to give advice what to see, and especially how to see Tokio, I should
to a certain extent deviate from the generally adopted plans of the
guide-books. Instead of drawing attention to the past, I would deal more
with the present; instead of describing the monuments of bygone ages
only, I would point out the modern institutions of the capital; instead
of dreaming in the old cemeteries of the Shoguns and Ronins, I would
awaken some interest in schools, factories, and barracks. In fact,
instead of dwelling on what is dead, I would study what is to be born
and what is already alive. And so the first disappointment of missing
the expected gay fairyland will turn into interest in serious reality.
Thus travellers would derive greater benefit and waste less time, if
they were prepared at the outset for Tokio, not as it may once have been
and as we still imagine it from description, but as it has developed in
the last quarter of a century. To conjure up the past or to recall
bygone traditions, one ought to linger in Nara's sacred groves and
Nikko's hidden shrines; but on arrival in Tokio and Osaka, one is
awakened to the reality of modern times, and dreams are bound to give
place to the hard work of life. After the first disappointment caused by
the capital's inartistic and rather incoherent aspect of today, one
cannot fail to be impressed by the activity of its inhabitants; and the
repugnance roused by its prosaic outlook, where new and old mingle
indiscriminately, once overcome, one begins to understand and appreciate
the indefatigable labour by which all this change has been achieved.
I would advise my friends, if they can do so, to choose a favourable
season for visiting Tokio. If possible, they should arrive in the middle
of the spring, when the magnificent forests and shady groves are in
foliage, when the orchards are in bloom, and the flower-gardens most
luxuriant; or in the autumn, when the leaves begin to turn, when the
maples glow like fires on the hillsides, and the sea-breeze scatters the
yellow leaves of the birch in golden showers. To stay there during the
months when the beauty of nature is at its zenith, and by its marvellous
harmony of colour and outline, which is, after all, Japan's main beauty,
makes one forget what time has destroyed and civilization ruined, and
recompenses one for many charms vanished for ever. At this time of the
year the different suburbs offer delightful retreats for the traveller's
leisure hours. And some of the old monuments, even though they be not
works of art of great value, yet, surrounded as they are by rich
vegetation, present a perfect _tout ensemble_. To those who have the
privilege of entering the Mikado's palace, and perchance obtain an
invitation to the celebrated Imperial chrysanthemum festival, the beauty
of the grounds at this season will compensate for the modesty of the
buildings and the simplicity of the interior; and though the brilliant
hues of the courtiers' embroidered kimonos are replaced by black
frock-coats, the chrysanthemums are still gorgeous and dazzling.
[Illustration: DELIGHTFUL SCENERY "When the magnificent forests and
shady groves are in foliage" To face page 298]
I can't help repeating with emphasis my advice to take interest in
life's more serious factors. As soon as possible after arrival, observe
and study, whenever there is a chance, the daily routine of one of the
most advancing young countries which unfolds before the visitor. Do not
restrict your visits merely to sights; besides museums inspect some
schools, and instead of hunting up pagodas of little artistic value,
see some of the workshops. In particular, look carefully at the work, as
such, and form your conclusions from your personal experience. And I
would counsel the getting of introductions to managers of large firms,
to the directors of railway and shipping companies; in fact, to all the
leaders of Tokio's various social movements. Call on the different
ministries, and do not omit to make the acquaintance of the chiefs of
the numerous political parties, whom you will find marvellously well
informed on political matters, and generally very interesting. And
witness some of the sittings of Parliament and a few public assemblies
and meetings of shareholders. In short, my last word of advice would be,
do not go with the idea of idling, but of studying, in Tokio; and in
this case you may not think it pretty, but unquestionably you will
realize that it is one of the most interesting cities in the whole wide
world.
If Japan has proved herself a very clever scholar of the West, the West
on its side can learn a great deal today from Japan. In this respect we
could not find a better object-lesson than the Imperial capital, Tokio.
XII
THE EMPEROR AND EMPRESS OF JAPAN AT THE YEDDO PALACE
It is snowing. The white flakes fall persistently, and are driven round
and round in whirlwinds. Looking out of my window the landscape is cold
and dreary. The large square roofs of the houses and the trees are
covered with a heavy white mantle.
In no direction can a single soul be seen. It is as if the whole town
and the inhabitants had gone into their winter sleep; all is silent and
dead under Nature's immaculate pall. I can scarcely believe that I am in
the Land of the Rising Sun; it is so difficult to realize that this
snowed-in city is the capital of Japan, as colour and glitter form the
two main features in our primary conception of Nippon's Island.
We expect to see the brilliant shades of the bright pictures and rich
embroideries and heavy silks of Japan even more brilliant under the
beams of this Eastern sun, as it is represented on the national flag.
[Illustration: STREET IN JAPAN "I never saw more poles and beams and
masts of different height piercing the sky"
To face page 300]
The European hopes to find Japan above all an Asiatic, even an exotic
country. He wants something like the bazaars of Cairo or Ceylon's
palm-groves, tropical like the wildernesses of Java, and ever-blooming
like Burmah's gardens. Arriving at Tokio, disappointment in this respect
is general, for Tokio is neither bright nor artistic. In fact, the
capital of Japan is one of the most colourless and prosaic places on the
globe.
Its buildings are nearly all of logs of wood--planks nailed to each
other--without any external ornamentation; to commend their style or
taste is impossible, for most of the houses have not even an attractive
appearance. The old pagodas and the historic temples make an exception
to the general rule, but their number is limited, and they are hidden by
the groves of centuries.
The general impression of the town is monotonous, and what makes it even
more so is that the houses are, as a rule, only one storey high, and the
unpainted wood they are constructed of assumes in time a weather-beaten
hue; in fact, the outline is only broken by an innumerable number of
telegraph-poles. I never saw more poles and beams and masts of different
height piercing the sky.
I was rather sorry to have such a cold morning for the day of the
audience graciously accorded to me by the Emperor. I must confess that I
should have preferred a warm, bright day in the late spring, when
everything is in blossom, every corner full of flowers, and Japan looks
more as it is pictured on its rich screens and artistic fans.
It is still quite early when the large, heavy barouche belonging to our
legation comes to fetch me, and the two strong, well-bred, native horses
have hard work to get through the snow-covered streets. Our way is
uninteresting; the thoroughfares are too wide altogether, and the small
houses on both sides are dwarfed and insignificant.
But we also pass some large modern buildings, American brick-and-steel
erections. These are public offices and banks, and make a rather
unpleasant contrast in the calm scenery. For some time we skirt a large
canal partly frozen over; this forms the outer moat of the Imperial
castle.
We stop before a large gate. It is opened at once, and a detachment of
small but well-set-up Japanese soldiers present arms. Next comes a
bridge, a new stone construction, ornamented with huge candelabra,
without much architectural beauty, and without any Japanese flavour. But
it leads to a magnificent avenue of cryptomerea, each tree a giant, and
all of them of venerable age, their trunks covered with dark moss, and
their foliage forming an emerald arch--emerald set in crystals, for
their branches are heavily laden with frost.
The avenue looks like a corner of the famous Tokaido highway, the
Japanese main artery for centuries, where the whole country
wandered--rich and poor, mighty and humble, from Kioto to Tokio, from
the Mikado's to the Shogun's Court, the Daimios with their retinues in
gold and silver; where, too, all the warriors rode in their rich armour,
and all the troops marched to war, or home to rest; where all the
pilgrims walked to the famous shrines of Nara and Nikko.
This avenue, leading to the palace, affords compensation for all the
inartistic streets outside the walls. I am even glad that it is covered
with snow, and that its sole inhabitants are a few gardeners shovelling
the ice aside. The dark trees and the white snow, and these few men clad
in straw capes looking very much like the back of a porcupine, and
wearing hats like flat tea-trays, are so original and so typical. At
last I have a real Japanese picture before me, and not one of those we
get at home highly coloured and made partly for the cheap Western
markets, but a picture full of harmony in an artistic setting, like one
of those famous Kakomenos in black and white by the most celebrated
disciples of the great Kano school.
A sharp turn brings us to an open space, and the palace is in front of
us.
I am afraid "palace" is not the right expression, as it looks from the
outside like a large Indian bungalow. It is only one storey high,
mainly constructed of wood and beams, scarcely ornamental, and covered
with a sloping roof of indifferent tiles. There is nothing striking
about it, nothing that would attract attention, nothing that is at all
imposing; it looks comfortable and nothing more.
The carriage stops before a flight of steps leading to a simple but
spacious ante-room. There is a large table on which are the Imperial
visiting-books, a few chairs; round the room stand some servants,
dressed in ordinary French livery. I am shown through a long corridor,
which is Japanese in character. It has no furniture at all; the beams
are carved, and if not imposing are perfect in detail. The large
drawing-room, where we sit down, is entirely modern.
The furniture is such as you would see anywhere in Europe, and specially
in America--rich, but without any special style or individuality, the
only exceptions being a fine cabinet of priceless old lacquer ware, and
a large golden screen ornamented with an enormous dragon and signed
"Kano Montonabu."
[Illustration: THE TOKAIDO "The avenue looks like a corner of the famous
Tokaido highway" To face page 304]
I was rather sorry that the decorations of the whole room did not adhere
to the national taste. I should have liked to banish every gilded
bracket and velvet lounge, and restore it to its original
simplicity--such simplicity as is to be found in the Katsura Palace at
Kioto.