on the steamer. About fifteen hundred people were working on the various
ladders, while another five hundred were employed in trimming the coal
in the hold and in managing the various boats. The result was an exhibit
of what can be done by primitive methods when perfect co-operation is
secured.
Nagasaki itself has little that will interest the tourist but a ride or
walk to Mogi, on an arm of the ocean, five miles away, may be taken with
profit. The road passes over a high divide and, as it runs through a
farming country, one is able to see here (more perfectly than in any
other part of Japan) how carefully every acre of tillable land is
cultivated. On both sides of this road from Nagasaki to the fishing
village of Mogi were fields enclosed by permanent walls of stone, such
as would be built in America only to sustain a house. In many cases the
ground protected by this wall was not over half an acre in extent, and
in some cases the fields were of smaller size. Tier after tier of these
walls extended up the sides of the steep hills. The effect at a little
distance was startling, as the whole landscape seemed artificial. The
result of this series of walls was to make a succession of little mesas
or benches such as may be seen in southern California.
DEVELOPMENT OF THE JAPANESE SENSE OF BEAUTY
After a trip through Japan the question that confronts the observant
tourist is: What has preserved the fine artistic sense of the Japanese
people of all classes, in the face of the materialist influences that
have come into their life with the introduction of Western methods of
thought and of business? The most careless traveler has it thrust upon
him that here is a people artistic to the tips of their fingers, and
with childlike power of idealization, although they have been forced to
engage in the fierce warfare of modern business competition. What is it
that has kept them unspotted from the world of business? What secret
source of spiritual force have they been able to draw upon to keep fresh
and dewy this eager, artistic sense that must be developed with so much
labor among any Western people?
The answer to these questions is found, by several shrewd observers, in
the Japanese devotion to their gardens. Every Japanese, no matter how
small and poor his house, has a garden to which he may retire and
"invite his soul." These Japanese gardens are unique and are found in no
other land. China has the nearest approach to them, but the poor Chinese
never dreams of spending time and money in the development of a garden,
such as the Japanese in similar circumstances regards as a necessity.
And these Japanese gardens are always made to conform to the house and
its architecture. The two never fail to fit and harmonize. A poor man
may have only a square of ground no larger than a few feet, but he will
so arrange it as to give it an appearance of spaciousness, while the
more elaborate gardens are laid out so as to give the impression of
unlimited extent. The end of the garden appears to melt into the
horizon, and the owner has a background that extends for miles into the
country. By the artistic use of stones and dwarf plants, a few square
feet of ground are made to give the effect of liberal space and, with
bridges, moss-covered stones, ponds, gold fish and other features, a
perfect illusion of the country may be produced.
Into this garden the master of the house retires after the work of the
day. There he takes none of his business or professional cares. He gives
himself wholly to the contemplation of Nature. He becomes for the time
as a little child, and his soul is pleased with childish things. For him
this garden, with its pretty outlook on a larger world, serves as the
boundary of the universe. Here he may dream of the legends of the
Samurai, before Japan fell under the evil influence of the new God of
Gain. Here he may indulge in the day-dreams that have always been a part
of the national consciousness. Here, in fine, he may get closer to the
real heart of Nature than any Occidental can ever hope to reach.
It is this capacity to get close to Nature that the Japanese possess
beyond any other Oriental people--and this capacity is not limited to
those of means or leisure or education. The poor man, who has a daily
struggle to get enough rice to satisfy his moderate wants, is as open to
these influences as the rich man who is not worried by any material
wants. There is no distinction of classes in this universal worship of
beauty--this passion for all that is lovely in nature. It was not my
good fortune to be in Japan at the time of the cherry-blossom
festival--but these fêtes merely serve to bring out this national
passion for beauty and color, which finds expression not only in the
gardens throughout the empire but in painting, drawing and in working on
silks and other fabrics. The same instinctive art sense is seen in the
work of the cabinet-maker and even in the designs of gateways and the
doors of houses. The eye and the hand of the common worker in wood and
metal is as sure as the hand of the great artist. Such is the influence
of this constant study of beauty in nature and art.
When you watch a busy Japanese artisan you get a good idea of the spirit
that animates his work. He regards himself as an artist, and he shows
the same sureness of hand and the same sense of form and color as the
designer in colors or the painter of portraits or landscapes. All the
beautiful gateways or torii, as they are called, are works of art. They
have one stereotyped form, but the artists embellish these in many ways
and the result is that every entrance to a large estate or a public
ground is pleasing to the eye. As these gateways are generally lacquered
in black or red or gold, they add much to the beauty and color of each
scene. The ornamental lattice over nearly every door also adds
enormously to the effectiveness of even a simple interior.
Watch a worker on cloissone enamel and you will be amazed at the
rapidity and the accuracy with which he paints designs on this beautiful
ware. Without any pattern he proceeds to sketch with his brush an
intricate design of flowers, birds or insects, and he develops this with
an unerring touch that is little short of marvelous, when one considers
that he has never had any regular training in drawing but has grown up
in the shop and has gained all his skill from watching and imitating the
work of his master on the bench at his side. One day in Kyoto I watched
a mere boy gradually develop a beautiful design of several hundred
butterflies gradually becoming smaller and smaller until they vanished
at the top of the vase. What he proposed to make of this was shown in a
finished design that was exquisite in the gradation of form and color.
The same skill of hand and eye was seen in the shops of Kyoto where
damascene ware is made. Gold and silver is hammered into steel and other
metals, so that the intricate designs actually seem to become a part of
the metal. In carving in wood the Japanese excel, and in such places as
Nikko and Nara the tourist may pick up the most elaborate carvings at
absurdly low prices.
CONCLUSIONS ON JAPANESE LIFE AND CHARACTER
In summing up one's observations of Japanese life and character, after a
brief trip across the empire, it is necessary to exercise much care and
not to take the accidental for the ordinary incidents of life.
Generalizations from such observations on a hurried journey are
especially deadly. To guard against such error I talked with many
people, and the conclusions given here are drawn from the radically
different views of missionaries, merchants, steamship agents, bankers
and others. Generous allowance must be made for the prejudices of each
class, but even then the forming of any conclusions is difficult. This
is due largely to the fact that the Japanese a half-century ago were
mediæval in life and thought, and that the remarkable advances which
they have made in material and intellectual affairs have been crowded
into a little more than the life of two generations.
The most common charge made against the Japanese as a race is that their
standard of commercial morality is low as compared with that of the
Chinese. The favorite instance, which is generally cited by those who do
not like the Japanese, is that all the big banks in Japan employ Chinese
shroffs or cashiers, who handle all the money, as Japanese cashiers
cannot be trusted. This ancient fiction should have died a natural
death, but it seems as though it bears a charmed life, although its
untruth has been repeatedly exposed by the best authorities on Japan.
The big foreign banks in all the large Japanese cities do employ Chinese
shroffs, because these men are most expert in handling foreign money and
because they usually have a large acquaintance all along the Chinese
coast among the clients of the banks. The large Japanese banks, on the
other hand, employ Japanese in all positions of trust and authority, as
do all the smaller banks throughout the empire. Many of the cashiers of
these smaller banks understand English, particularly those that have
dealings with foreigners. At a native bank in Kobe, which was Cook's
correspondent in that city, I cashed several money orders, and the work
was done as speedily as it would have been done in any American bank.
The fittings of the bank were very cheap; the office force was small,
but the cashier spoke excellent English and he transacted business
accurately and speedily.
In making any generalizations on the lack of rigid commercial honesty
among Japanese merchants it may be well for me to quote the opinion of
an eminent American educator who has spent over forty years in Japan. He
said, in discussing this subject: "We must always consider the training
of the Japanese before their country was thrown open to foreign trade.
For years the nation had been ruled by men of the Samurai or military
class, with a rigid code of honor, but with a great contempt for trade
and tradesmen. Naturally business fell into the hands of the lower
classes who did not share the keen sense of honor so general among their
rulers. Hence, there grew up lax ideas of commercial morality, which
were fostered by the carelessness in money matters among the nobility
and aristocracy. Much of the prevalent Japanese inability to refrain
from overcharging, or delivering an inferior article to that shown to
the customer, dates back to these days of feudal life. The years of
contact with the foreigners have been too few to change the habits of
centuries. Another thing which must always be considered is the relation
of master and vassal under feudal life. That relation led to peculiar
customs. Thus, if an artisan engaged to build a house for his overlord
he would give a general estimate, but if the cost exceeded the sum he
named, he expected his master to make up the deficit. This custom has
been carried over into the new régime, so that the Japanese merchant or
mechanic of to-day, although he may make a formal contract, does not
expect to be bound by it, or to lose money should the price of raw
material advance, or should he find that any building operations have
cost more than his original estimate. In such case the man who orders
manufactured goods or signs a contract for any building operations seems
to recognize that equity requires him to pay more than was stipulated in
the bond. When Japanese deal with Japanese this custom is generally
observed. It is only the foreigner who expects the Japanese to fulfill
his contract to the letter, and it is the attempt to enforce such
contracts which gives the foreign merchant his poor opinion of Japanese
commercial honesty. In time, when the Japanese have learned that they
must abide by written contracts, these complaints will be heard no
longer. The present slipshod methods are due to faulty business customs,
the outgrowth of the old Samurai contempt for trade in any form."
In dealing with small Japanese merchants in various cities, it was my
experience that they are as honest as similar dealers in other
countries. Usually they demanded about one-half more than they expected
to receive. Then they made reductions and finally a basis of value was
agreed upon. This chaffering seems to be a part of their system; but the
merchants and manufacturers who are brought most often into contact with
Europeans are coming to have a fixed price for all their goods, on which
they will give from ten to twenty per cent. reduction, according to the
amount of purchases. One manufacturer in Kyoto who sold his own goods
would make no reduction, except in the case of some samples that he was
eager to sell. His goods were all plainly marked and he calmly allowed
tourists to leave his store rather than make any cut in his prices. The
pains and care which the Japanese dealer will take to please his
customer is something which might be imitated with profit by foreign
dealers.
A question that is very frequently put is, "What has been the influence
of Christianity upon Japanese life and thought?" This is extremely
difficult to answer, because even those who are engaged in missionary
work are not always in accord in their views. One missionary of thirty
years' experience said: "The most noteworthy feature of religious work
in Japan is the number of prominent Japanese who have become converts to
Christianity. The new Premier, who is very familiar with life in the
United States, may be cited as one of these converts. Such a man in his
position of power will be able to do much to help the missionaries. The
usual charge that Japanese embrace Christianity in order to learn
English without expense falls to the ground before actual personal
experience. The converts always seemed to me to be as sincere as
converts in China or Corea, but it must be admitted that the strong
materialist bent of modern Japanese education and thought is making it
more difficult to appeal to the present generation."
An educator who has had much experience with Japanese said: "It looks to
me as though Japan would soon reach a grave crisis in national life.
Hitherto Buddhism and Shintoism have been the two forces that have
preserved the religious faith of the people and kept their patriotism at
white heat. Now the influences in the public schools are all
antagonistic to any religious belief. The young men and women are
growing up (both in the public schools and the government colleges) to
have a contempt for all the old religious beliefs. They cannot accept
the Shinto creed that the Emperor is the son of God and should be
worshiped as a deity by all loyal Japanese. They cannot accept the
doctrines of Buddha, as they see the New Japan giving the lie to these
doctrines every day in its home and international dealings. Nothing is
left but atheism, and the experience of the world proves that there is
nothing more dangerous to a nation than the loss of its religious faith.
The women of Japan are slower to accept these new materialist views than
the men, but the general breaking down of the old faith is something
which no foreign resident of Japan can fail to see. On the other side
patriotism is kept alive by the pilgrimages of school children to the
national shrines, but one is confronted with the questions? Will the
boys and girls of a few years hence regard these shrines with any
devotion when they know that Buddhism and Shintoism are founded on a
faith that science declares has no foundation? Will they offer up money
and homage to wooden images which their cultivated reason tells them are
no more worthy of worship than the telegraph poles along the lines of
the railway?'"
The Japanese way of doing things is the exact reverse of the American
way generally, but if one studies the methods of this Oriental race it
will be found that their way is frequently most effective. Thus, in
addressing letters they always put the city first, then the street
address and finally the number, while they never fail to put the
writer's name and address on the reverse of the envelope, which saves
the postoffice employés much trouble and practically eliminates the
dead-letter office.
The Japanese sampan, as well as other boats, is never painted, but it is
always scrubbed clean. The sampan has a sharp bow and a wide, square
stern, and navigators say it will live in a sea which would swamp the
ordinary Whitehall boat of our water-front. The Japanese oar is long and
looks unwieldy, being spliced together in the middle. It is balanced on
a short wooden peg on the gunwale and the oarsman works it like a sweep,
standing up and bending over it at each stroke. The result is a sculling
motion, which carries the boat forward very rapidly. In no Japanese
harbor do the big steamships come up to the wharf. They drop anchor in
the harbor, and they are always surrounded by small sampans, the owners
of which are eager to take passengers ashore for about twenty-five cents
each. All cargo is taken aboard by lighters or unloaded in the same way.
These lighters hold as much as a railroad freight car.
The fishing boats of Japan add much to the picturesqueness of all the
harbors, as they have sails arranged in narrow strips laced to bamboo
poles, and they may be drawn up and lowered like the curtains in an
American shop window. Whether square or triangular, these sails have a
graceful appearance and they are handled far more easily than ours.
The Japanese carpenter, who draws his plane as well as his saw toward
himself, appears to work in an awkward and ungainly way, but he does as
fine work as the American cabinet-maker. The beauty of the interior
woodwork of even the houses of the poorer classes is a constant marvel
to the tourist. Nothing is ever painted about the Japanese house, so the
fineness of the grain of the wood is revealed as well as the exquisite
polish. A specialty of the Japanese carpenter is lattice-work for the
windows and grill-work for doors. These add very much to the beauty of
unpretentious houses.
In conclusion it may be said that Japan offers the lover of the
beautiful an unlimited opportunity to gratify his æsthetic senses. In
city or country he cannot fail to find on every hand artistic things
that appeal powerfully to his sense of beauty. Whether in an ancient
temple or a new home for a poor village artisan, he will see the results
of the same instinctive sense of the beautiful and the harmonious. The
lines are always lines of grace, and the colors are always those which
blend and gratify the eye.
WILL THE JAPANESE RETAIN THEIR GOOD TRAITS?
Any thoughtful visitor to Japan must be impressed with the problems that
confront Japan to-day, owing to the influence of foreign thought and
customs. This influence is the more to be dreaded because the Japanese
are so impressionable and so prone to accept anything which they are
convinced is superior to their own. They have very little of the Chinese
passion for what has been made sacred by long usage. They have high
regard for their ancestors, but very little reverence for their customs
and opinions. This lack of veneration is shown in striking fashion by
those Japanese students who come to this country to gain an education.
These young men are as eager as the ancient Athenians for any new thing,
and when they return to their old homes each is a center of Occidental
influence. This is frequently not for the best interests of their
countrymen, who have not had their own opportunities of observation and
comparison.
The qualities in which the Japanese excel are the very qualities in
which so many Americans are deficient. Personal courage and loyalty are
the traits which Professor Scherer, a distinguished expert, regards as
the fundamental traits of the Japanese character. That these qualities
have not been weakened materially was shown in the recent war with
Russia. In that tremendous struggle was demonstrated the power of a
small nation, in which everyone--men, women and children--were united
in a passionate devotion to their country. No similar spectacle was
ever shown in modern history. The men who went cheerfully to certain
death before Port Arthur revealed no higher loyalty than the wives at
home who committed suicide that their husbands might not be called upon
to choose between personal devotion to their family and absolute
loyalty to the nation. The foreign correspondents, who were on
two-hundred-and-three-metre hill before Port Arthur, have told of the
Japanese soldiers in the ranks who tied ropes to their feet in order
that their comrades might pull their bodies back into the trenches. All
those who were drafted to make the assaults on the Russian works in
that awful series of encounters (which make the charge of the Light
Brigade at Balaklava seem cheap and theatrical) knew they were going to
certain death. Yet these foreign observers have left on record that the
only sentiment among those who remained in the trenches was envy that
they had not been so fortunate as to be selected to show this supreme
loyalty to their country. General Nogi, who recently committed suicide
with his wife on the day of the funeral of the late Emperor, had two
sons dash to this certain death on the bloodstained hill before Port
Arthur. As commander, he could have assigned them to less dangerous
positions, but it probably never entered his head to shield his own
flesh and blood. And the same loyalty that is shown to country is also
proved in the relation of servant to master. The story of the
Forty-seven Ronins is too well known to need repetition, but the
loyalty of these retainers (who slew the man that caused their lord's
death, although they knew that this deed called for their immediate end
by their own hands) impresses one with new force when he stands before
the tombs of these men in the Japanese capital and sees the profound
reverence in which they are still held by the people of Japan.
What puzzles the foreign observer is: Will this passionate loyalty of
servant to master survive the spectacle of the ingratitude and
self-interest which the Japanese see in the relation of master and
servant in most Christian countries? The whole tendency of life in other
countries than his own is against this loyalty, which has been bred in
his very marrow. How long, without the mainstay of religion, will the
Japanese cling to this outworn but beautiful relic of his old life? And
it must be confessed that religion is rapidly losing its hold on the men
of Japan. Those who have been abroad are apt to return home
freethinkers, because the spectacle of the practical working of
Christianity is not conducive to faith among so shrewd a people as the
Japanese. Even the example of the foreigners in Japan is an influence
that the missionaries regard as prejudicial to Christianity.
Another trait of the Japanese which will not be improved by contact with
foreigners, and especially with Americans, is thoroughness. This trait
is seen on every hand in Japan. Nothing is built in a slovenly way,
whether for private use or for the government. The artisan never scamps
his work. He seems to have retained the old mechanic's pride in doing
everything well which he sets his hand to do. This is seen in the
carving of many works of art, as well as in the building of the
ornamental gateways throughout the empire, that stand as monuments to
the æsthetic sense of the people. Yet the whole influence of foreign
teaching and example is against this thoroughness that is ingrained in
the Japanese character. The young people cannot fail to see that it
does not pay their elders to expend so much time and effort to gain
perfection, when their foreign rivals secure apparently equal if not
superior results by quick and careless work. It is upon these Japanese
children that the future of the empire depends. They are sure to be
infected by these object lessons in the gospel of selfish and careless
work, which the labor union leaders in our country have preached until
it has been accepted by the great mass of mechanics.