CHARACTERISTICS
Perhaps one of the most admirable features in the character of the
Japanese is their great power of self-control. The superficial observer
on his first visit to Japan, because of this very quality of theirs, is
at first liable to imagine that the Japanese have no emotion. This is a
mistake. I have lived with them; I know them through and through; and I
know that they are a people of great emotions, emotions that are perhaps
all the deeper and stronger because they are unexpressed. Self-control
is almost a religion with the Japanese. In their opinion it is wrong and
selfish to the last degree to inflict one's sorrows and one's cares upon
other people. The world is sad enough, they argue, without being made
sadder by the petty emotions of one's neighbour: so the people of Japan
all contrive to present a gay and happy appearance to the outside world.
You may express your feelings in the solitude of your own room, and
there is no doubt that the Japanese suffer terribly among themselves,
although a stranger, and especially a European, will never detect a
trace of it.
I once went to call, with a resident of Japan, on an old Japanese lady,
to condole with her on the loss of her husband and her only son, who had
both been swept away, with thousands of others, in a great tidal wave
only a few days previously. As we neared the house we saw, through the
partially-opened sliding door, the old woman rocking herself to and fro
in an agony of sorrow, literally contending with emotion, and suffering
as I have never seen a human being suffer before. I was terribly
shocked, and we naturally hesitated for some time before announcing
ourselves; but by the time the mourner appeared at the door to greet us,
she was all smiles. It was difficult to believe that she was the same
woman. Her face shone with radiant happiness, and all traces of sorrow
had disappeared. In the course of the conversation she did not avoid the
sore subject, but rather chose it, and talked of the death of her
husband and her son with a smiling face and an expression by which one
might very pardonably have judged that she had no feelings whatever.
This was self-control indeed, and it is only in Japan that one
encounters such striking illustrations of superb pluck and endurance.
[Illustration: YOUTH AND AGE]
In my opinion, this great self-control is an evidence of the very high
standard of civilisation of the Japanese. If one is at all observant and
really in sympathy with the people, one is continually catching glimpses
of their real natures and instances of their magnificent self-command.
Once I was talking to a little Japanese merchant, along with some
friends whom I had taken round to his store to buy curios. I had made
quite a friend of this man, and knew him well. We were all chaffing him
about getting married, and one of my friends said to him, "Well, why
don't you get married? But perhaps you have already got a wife!" The
little man looked up quickly with a smile on his face, and said--"Me
married already; me wife die two years past; two children die two years
past; all die, I think." The voice was perfectly steady, and the face
smiling, as he uttered this amazingly sad statement; but some one
chanced to look up and saw two great tears standing in his little
monkey-like eyes. Of course he was "no class," and, not being an actual
workman, but only a merchant, he was considered to be of rather a low
grade. Still, for this slight show of emotion, he had utterly disgraced
himself in his own eyes, and would afterwards, no doubt, atone for it by
torturing himself in private.
I saw many remarkable instances of the self-control of the Japanese
people when I visited the scenes of desolation caused from that great
tidal wave which destroyed nearly three thousand people. Village after
village I visited, some of them with only three or four living
inhabitants left; but in no case, with men, women, or children, did I
see the slightest trace of emotion. Here and there, indeed, you passed a
woman huddled up in a corner muttering and screaming, but only because
her mind had become unhinged by the loss of her home, or probably
village, and every relation she possessed. No Japanese in his senses
would amid the same circumstances be guilty of so much as a murmur or a
tear.
The Japanese are a brave people--not only the men, but the women too. In
fact, the women more especially are brave. Many women destroyed
themselves during the China-Japanese war, because their husbands had
been killed in battle. There was one Japanese woman in Tokio who felt so
deeply the disgrace placed upon her country by the attempt on the life
of the present Emperor of Russia some years ago by a common coolie, that
she committed suicide. She felt that this great European prince had
visited her country as a guest, and that before Japan could raise its
head once more the nation must make some great sacrifice. Day after day
she visited the Legation, and begged to be allowed admission to some of
the high officials--in vain: they were too busy to see her. At last,
after some weeks of fruitless effort, she went home in despair and
killed herself, leaving a pathetic little letter to the Minister stating
that she hoped that the sacrifice of her life might in some way help to
cleanse her country from its disgrace.
[Illustration: LOOKERS-ON]
Patriotism is a strong trait in the character of the Japanese; but
perhaps their imagination and their love of Nature are even stronger,
and at all events will cause them to bound forward and become a
first-rate power. This universal force of the imagination is a quality
that no other nation possesses, and it is a quality that will cause her,
not so very many years hence, to dominate the world. All the Japanese
possess imagination, from the highest to the lowest; it is shown in
every action and detail of their daily life. There is no one of them,
even to the poorest coolie, who has not some little collection of
exquisite works of the art that he loves. Your jinricksha man, if you
were ever allowed the privilege of visiting his house, would in all
probability be able to show you one or two choice specimens, either in
china or in bronze, of his household gods. And so strongly is the love
of Nature impressed within him that he cannot pass a beautiful scene--a
hillside of blossom, or a sunset--without stopping his ricksha to allow
you also the privilege of enjoying it. Often when taking a drive in the
country he will suddenly stop in front of some delightful scene, put
down your ricksha, and, taking from his kimono sleeve a little roll of
rice, wrapped in a dainty bamboo leaf, will sit down and begin to eat it
with his chopsticks, continuing to gaze at the scene, every now and then
looking up at you for sympathy. If you are an artist, and will look at
the scene intelligently and appreciatively, this little ricksha man will
be your slave for life and will do anything for you.
Men are esteemed in Japan in proportion to their artistic capabilities,
and not for their banking accounts. It is in this quality of imagination
that we Britishers are deficient. Our lack of imagination will be the
cause of the decline of our Empire, if it does decline.
Then, the Japanese are a polite people. If you give a present to some
little child, a mite strapped to the back of a sister that is scarcely
bigger than itself, you are almost sure to find that little child
waiting for you on your return to your hotel with some small trifle to
offer you; and this little one will bow to you from its rather awkward
position with all the grace imaginable. Two coolies sweeping the roads,
when meeting for the first time in the day, will lay down their brooms
and salute each other before passing on their way to work.
I have had many experiences, when sketching the streets of Japan, of the
people's politeness. A policeman becoming interested in my work would
help to keep clear a space in the road, and never dream of overlooking
my work or of embarrassing me in any way. In one street of a village he
actually had the traffic turned down another way, so as not to interfere
with my sketching. Fancy a policeman in England diverting the traffic
simply because an artist wanted to sketch a meat shop!
One of the most remarkable illustrations of the native politeness that I
have ever witnessed was in Tokio. A man pulling along a cart loaded high
up with boughs of trees chanced to catch the roof of a coolie's house in
one of his pieces of timber, tearing away a large portion of it (for a
roof is a very slim affair in Japan). The owner of the house rushed out
thoroughly upset, and began to expostulate, and to explain how very
distressing it was to have one's roof torn off in this manner. No doubt
if he had been a Britisher he would have used quaint language; but there
are no "swear words" in the Japanese language--they are too polite a
people. The abused one stood calmly, with arms folded, listening to the
harangue, and saying nothing. Only, when the enraged man had finished,
he pointed to the towel which in his haste the coolie had forgotten to
take off his head. At once the coolie realised the enormity of his
offence. Both hands flew to the towel, and tore it off in confusion, the
coolie bowing to the ground and offering humble apologies for having
presumed to appear without uncovering his head. For in Japan one must
always uncover, whether to a sweep or to a Mikado. The two parted the
best of friends. One had been impolite enough to forget to uncover; the
other had torn away a roof. The rudeness of the one balanced the injury
of the other. Thus are offences weighed in Japan.
THE END
_The illustrations in this impression were engraved and printed by the
Carl Hentschel Colourtype Process. The letterpress was printed by
Messrs. R. & R. Clark, Limited, Edinburgh._
[Illustration]