CHAPTER IX

NEW LIGHT FOR OLD

The Old and the New Japan jostle each other at every turn. One day we

visited the tomb of the heroic Nogi, who sacrificed his life on the

altar of _Bushido_, and the next we received at the Embassy the pupils

of the Tokyo Normal School, who will have so large a share in the

continued remodelling of the nation. The Land of the Rising Sun has

undergone decided changes within the last fifty years in her desire to

make herself the equal of the Great Powers of Christendom; she has been

willing to cast aside tradition, to modify her form of government, to

adopt Western customs. But none of these things appears to me so vital

as the reconstruction of her educational system and the free admission

of a new religious belief.

The old system of Japanese education was derived from Chinese models as

early as the eighth century, but for many hundred years it was barely

kept alive in Buddhist monasteries, and was never fully carried out

until the Tokugawa period. The higher institutions were devoted entirely

to the study of Chinese history and literature, and their object was

chiefly to train efficient servants of the State. Buddhist priests were

the usual teachers of the lower classes, but retired _samurai_ often

opened elementary schools, such as that pictured so vividly by one of

their pupils:[7]

[7] Dr. Nitobe, in "The Japanese Nation."

"This primitive school," he says, "consisted of a couple of rooms, where

some twenty or thirty boys (and a very few girls), ranging in age from

seven to fourteen, spent the forenoon, each reading in turn with the

teacher for half an hour some paragraphs from Confucius and Mencius, and

devoting the rest of the time to calligraphy. Of the three R's, 'riting

demanded the most time and reading but little, 'rithmetic scarcely any,

except in a school attended by children of the common people as distinct

from those of the _samurai_. Sons of the _samurai_ class had other

curricula than the three R's. They began fencing, _jiu-jutsu_,

spear-practice and horsemanship, when quite young, and usually took

these lessons in the early morning. As a child of seven, I remember

being roused by my mother before dawn in the winter, and reluctantly,

often in positively bad humour, picking my way barefooted through the

snow. The idea was to accustom children to hardihood and endurance.

There was little fun in the schoolroom, except such as our ingenious

minds devised behind our teacher's back."

Yet this primitive system of education trained leaders of sufficient

wisdom, unselfishness and breadth of view to guide Japan safely from the

old to the new. Okubo and Kido, two members of the embassy that was sent

to the treaty powers in 1871, discovered, upon landing in San Francisco,

that the very bell-boys and waiters in the hotel understood the issues

at stake in the election then going on. This convinced them that nothing

but education could enable Japan to hold her own beside the Western

world. Okubo said, "We must first educate leaders, and the rest will

follow." Kido said, "We must educate the masses; for unless the people

are trained, they cannot follow their leaders." Between the two, they

got something of both.

The younger generation lost no time in availing themselves of their new

privileges, and indeed they are to-day so eager for learning that, after

their daily work, many of them sit up the greater part of the night to

study. In consequence, they often grow anæmic, nervous and melancholy.

While the Japanese seem now to have adapted their elementary schools to

the needs of their people, they have not been so successful with their

secondary schools, called "middle" for boys and "high" for girls. The

course of study for boys is much the same as in this country, except

that instead of Greek and Latin they have Chinese and Yamato--old

Japanese. English occupies six hours a week through the whole five-year

course, but is taught only for reading, so that while most educated

Japanese can understand some English and have read the classics of our

literature, they may not be able to carry on a conversation in our

language. In girls' high schools there is a room that might be styled "a

laboratory of manners," where pupils have a "course in etiquette,

including ceremonial tea and flower arrangement." The certificate of the

middle school legally admits a student to the government colleges, but

as there are only eight of these institutions in the country, they

cannot receive all who apply. Consequently, students must pass a rigid

entrance examination. There are four Imperial universities, of which

that in Tokyo is the oldest and has about six thousand students, and

several private universities, one of which, Waseda, has an enrollment of

more than seven thousand.

It did not escape the notice of the wisest leaders that perhaps the

weakest point in this new educational system was its lack of moral

training, all religious teaching being forbidden in government schools.

Accordingly, in 1890, the late Emperor issued the Imperial Rescript on

Education, a printed copy of which with the Emperor's autograph is

sacredly cherished in every school, and upon which nearly all modern

Japanese text-books of ethics are based. The most important part of this

document reads as follows:

"Ye, Our subjects, be filial to your parents, affectionate to your

brothers and sisters; as husbands and wives be harmonious, as friends

true; bear yourselves in modesty and moderation; extend your benevolence

to all; pursue learning and cultivate the arts, and thereby develop

intellectual faculties and perfect moral powers; furthermore, advance

public good and promote common interests; always respect the

Constitution and observe the laws; should emergency arise, offer

yourselves courageously to the State; and thus guard and maintain the

prosperity of Our Imperial Throne, coeval with heaven and earth."

I was much interested in two secondary schools in Tokyo. We had the

pleasure of entertaining the graduating class of young men from the

Normal School. Professor Swift, who accompanied them, had been teaching

in Japan for twenty-five years, having had the present Emperor at one

time in his school. He said his students had never been received at the

Embassy before, and in fact, he thought none of them had ever been in a

European house. There were about forty of the Japanese and one young

Chinaman. I think most of them were perhaps about twenty years old. They

wore European dress, but the Japanese master came in his native costume.

According to their rules of politeness, they gathered about the door,

and could scarcely be induced to come in to shake hands with us. When

they finally did come, they backed into a corner, and in true Japanese

fashion had to be invited three times before they would enter the

tea-room.

These students go out through Japan to teach English after they

graduate. They did not speak English, however, quite so well as I had

expected, but no doubt they were a little frightened, and probably they

were more used to such questions as I heard at one school when the

teacher read to the class, "Where was Phineas when the mob gathered

about the portal?" Our guests enjoyed the mechanical bear and tiger,

for, like most people of the East, the Japanese are especially fond of

such toys. The students seemed to take interest in the photographs also,

and when one asked for music, we started the Victor and allowed them to

choose their own records.

Male and female teachers are trained in separate normal schools, which

are government institutions. All their expenses--for board, clothing,

tuition and books--are met by the State. After a preparatory course of

one year, they take the regular course of four years, which covers a

very full curriculum. Music, gymnastics, manual training, law and

economics form part of this very modern course of study, and commerce

and agriculture may be added. English is also included, but made

optional. The necessary training in teaching is given in a practice

school attached to each normal school. A shorter course of one year is

devoted chiefly to the study of methods and practical work. A severe

military training is given in the schools for males. Graduates from the

regular course are obliged to serve the State as teachers for seven

years, and those from the shorter course for two years.

[Illustration: MISS TSUDA'S SCHOOL, TOKYO.]

The second school which particularly interested me was Miss Tsuda's.

Miss Tsuda herself was one of several Japanese children from good

families who, when they were very young, were sent to America to be

educated. Three of the girls, it is said, decided at school how they

wished to live their lives. One said that above all things she should

marry for love and in the Western fashion, and so it was--she met a

young Japanese studying in America, and they were married and returned

to Japan. The second one said she wished to be a power, and she returned

home and in Japanese fashion was married by her parents to a very

prominent leader in political life. Miss Tsuda felt that she wished to

help her countrywomen, and that she would remain unmarried and devote

her life to education. So, curiously enough, these three women have

carried out the ideals of their girlhood.

The school for the higher education of Japanese girls which Miss Tsuda

has established is practically a post-graduate course, to fit them for

teachers. One class that I visited was reading really difficult

English--something of George Eliot's. Miss Tsuda herself is a graduate

of Bryn Mawr, and speaks most beautiful English--perhaps the most

perfect I have heard from any Japanese. The school is supported chiefly,

I understand, by people in Philadelphia. I was told that the Bible was

taught, but that the study of it was not compulsory, and that many of

the girls were Buddhists. These students are from all stations in life.

The outside of the buildings was in Japanese style, but the schoolrooms

were like those in America; the pupils sat in chairs and had desks. I

inquired why they did not sit on the mats, and Miss Tsuda said they had

adopted chairs and desks because the girls felt that on the whole the

chairs were more comfortable, and that they could move more quickly. It

is thought the race will grow taller if they all learn to use chairs,

instead of sitting on their legs as they have always done. The majority

of the girls had writing-boxes and books upon the floors of their own

rooms, and kept their bedding in a cupboard after the custom of their

people, but they were allowed to have chairs if they asked for them.

Hanging upon the _shoji_ were Christian mottoes, photographs of their

relatives, and in one case a picture of Nogi. European food is given

here, as well as Japanese, and our methods of cooking are taught.

These students have modern gymnastic training every day, and they also

play baseball, which the old-fashioned Japanese think very unladylike.

Every Saturday evening they play games, have charades, and act little

plays, both in English and Japanese.

On a previous visit, some years ago, L. had gone over the Imperial

University with Professor Yoshida. At that time Tokyo University and the

Engineering College had lately been amalgamated. He said it seemed

strange, coming from an American university, to see the complete neglect

of what we call classics, Latin and Greek. All the modern sciences,

medicine, the 'ologies and law were studied in English, German and

French.

One department, the seismic, established especially for the separate

study of volcanic disturbances and earthquakes, was then peculiar to

this university. It is particularly interesting to the Japanese, for

they are constantly experiencing such disturbances--the late eruption in

the province of Satsuma is a hint that results might be still more

serious.

In the art schools in Tokyo, which we visited, we saw the students

painting and carving in their peculiar, painstaking way.

An American teacher, who is not herself a missionary but has lived with

missionaries in Japan for some time, and whom I consider an impartial

judge, has given me her opinions on educational matters, including the

work of the mission schools. The Japanese need, she feels, both moral

and commercial instruction of the kind that only Western teachers can

give. This teaching should be well given by the mission schools. At

first, as in Korea, these schools were the only sources of Western

thought, so they were frequented by all the Japanese who wished for any

sort of progress. Everything was gobbled down hungrily. Even if they

were not religiously inclined, they pretended to be, for this was their

only means of learning English.

At the present time, the government schools teach Western branches, but

they are hampered by a narrow-minded educational board with antiquated

methods, and tied up by miles of red tape, so that their teaching of

Western studies is away behind the times. We might consider the English

heard all over Japan a fair sample of the superficiality that prevails,

but, to be impartial, we must take into account the difficulties that

have to be overcome by students and teachers. Because of the ideographs

and other peculiarities of their own tongue, it is far more difficult

for the Japanese to learn English than for us to learn French or German.

Government schools are superior in Japanese branches--they teach

Japanese and Chinese classics and ethics, Japanese law and ideals better

than the mission schools--and certificates from them give better

positions, so ambitious Japanese go to them, but in Western subjects

they try to do too many things. The students work only for examinations,

not for really substantial progress. This is noticeable, except in rare

individuals, who would probably progress under any conditions. The best

Japanese educators realize this as well as the foreigners and greatly

deplore it.

The reason that some of the mission schools are not so good as they

might be is that they are too much occupied with proselyting, and hardly

give more than superficial training to students. It would be better for

the Japanese in the end if more real educators were sent out rather than

so many preachers. If the mission schools would combine in having

Japanese teachers for Japanese subjects, there could be concentration of

effort and expense.

There is also a crying need, my friend says, of schools for foreign

children, because there are no good ones in Japan, and it is expensive

to send the boys and girls to America or Europe. An international

foreign language school, too, is much needed. _The ignorance of foreign

tongues is one of the greatest barriers to amicable relations with other

countries._ The inscrutability of the Japanese, which we hear so much

about, is due principally to their lack of familiarity with languages.

To understand the religious situation in Japan at all, it is necessary

to take another backward glance over her history. Except during the two

hundred and fifty years of the Tokugawa Period, the country has always

been open to foreigners and foreign ideas. Chinese and Koreans, who

brought new religions, a new civilization and a new philosophy, were

gladly received. Young men from Japan sought learning in other

countries, even in distant India. So, when Francis Xavier and his

intrepid Jesuits made their way thither in the sixteenth century, they

found a cordial welcome awaiting them.

For fifty years Christian work went on; hundreds of thousands of

Japanese accepted the Roman Catholic faith. But the Roman Church claims

to be superior to the State, and the rulers of Japan saw reason to

believe that the priests were aiming at political power. At once they

reversed their former policy, branded Christianity as "_Ja-kyo_," the

"Evil Way," and set about its extermination. Thousands of converts laid

down their lives for the new faith in the terrible persecution that

followed; foreigners were driven out of Japan, and her own people were

forbidden to leave her shores.

After the "Long Sleep" of the Tokugawa Period, the Meiji Era, known as

the "Awakening," began in 1867. Once more Christianity was brought in,

but this time in the guise of Protestantism, and again it made rapid

progress. By the middle of the eighties some Japanese leaders of opinion

were even advising that it should be declared the national religion,

although this was largely for political reasons. However, full religious

liberty was granted in 1889.

In the early nineties came the reaction. The conservative element in the

nation began to make itself heard against the mad rush for new things.

Japanese students returning from abroad brought stories of vice and

crime in Christian lands. The Japanese began to discover, too, that the

standard of Christian ethics was a higher one than they had ever known,

and demanded a change of life as well as of belief, and that the

diplomacy of so-called Christian countries was often anything but

Christian. So those who had simply "gone with the crowd" into the

Christian ranks fell away. The churches were sifted.

This revulsion of feeling was not lasting. Gradually the Japanese came

to modify their conclusions. Those who remained in the churches did so

from conviction, and a stronger church was the result. In this period of

reaction Japan simply stopped to take breath, to adjust itself to the

new life upon which it had entered. Progress now may be slower, but it

is more substantial.

The missionary question is absorbing, if one has time to see what has

been done and what is being done now in the schools and kindergartens

and hospitals, although to-day these Christian teachers are not playing

so important a rôle as they did a few years ago. At first the Japanese

went to the foreigners as their advisers and teachers, but now that they

have travelled more and know more of Western ideas they do not need them

so much. Six hundred thousand dollars goes yearly from America to Japan

for missions. Japan is a poor country, but some people feel it is time

for the rich men there to come forward and contribute to their own

charities, rather than to let foreigners do so large a share. I feel

that there is more need of missionaries in China to-day, especially

medical missionaries.

Fifty years ago there was desperate need of medical missionaries in

Japan. When Dr. Hepburn opened his dispensary in a Buddhist temple at

Kanagawa, diseased beggars were very common on the streets, for

hospitals were unknown. Now there are over one thousand public hospitals

managed by Japanese doctors, who are well fitted for their

profession--some have been educated in Germany and are very skilful.

As there are natural hot springs in Japan, lepers in the early stages of

the disease go there in the hope of being cured, but as a cure is not

possible, they gradually become worse and cannot leave the country, so

one often sees them begging in the streets. The only beggars I have ever

seen in Japan have been victims of leprosy.

Up to 1907 there were no hospitals for lepers except those founded by

foreign missionaries. In that year the Government established five of

these institutions, but as they are always crowded, the poor sufferers

cannot be received unless they are very ill. Father Testevinde, a French

Catholic priest, founded the first private hospital for lepers--which is

still the largest--in 1889. Miss Riddell, an Englishwoman, has

established another, which she is now trying to enlarge.

Eye troubles are especially prevalent in Japan, but the blind earn their

living by massage, and the note of their flute is often heard in the

street. There is a great deal of tuberculosis, but there are no

sanatoriums for consumptives, who are taken into the regular hospitals.

As the sufferers are kept in their homes until the last stages, the

disease is spreading rapidly.

It is very common to see children afflicted with skin-diseases. Japanese

mothers believe that inborn wickedness comes out in this form. Since

they no longer shave the children's heads as in the old days, however,

the skin trouble is disappearing somewhat. Well-organized dispensaries

and district nurses are certainly much needed in out-of-the-way

villages, but no provision has as yet been made for such work. Midwives,

however, are to be found.

The Episcopal hospital in Tokyo, where Japanese women are taught

nursing, is supposed to be the best in the country. Dr. Teusler is doing

excellent work there. The Japanese hospitals are not so well managed as

the best foreign ones, and the training for women nurses is not so long

or so thorough as in America. It is difficult for foreigners to judge

their hospitals, because they are intended for Japanese patients and

their whole manner of living is so different from ours. At first, on

account of native customs, only the poorer class of women could be

induced to take up nursing as a profession, but to-day the better class

are engaging in it.

In no branch of medical work has Japan made greater progress or achieved

finer results than in the Red Cross. In 1877 the _Hakuaisha_ was

formed--the Society of Universal Love--which cared for the wounded in

the great civil war. Japan joined the European Red Cross League in 1887.

The Japanese Red Cross was finely organized for service during the war

with Russia. The first work was the care of the Russian sailors at

Chemulpo, who were even presented with artificial limbs by the Empress

of Japan. During the war six thousand sick and wounded Russian prisoners

were cared for by the Japanese. In return the Russians subscribed to the

Japanese Red Cross. The women nurses remained at home stations, all

relief detachments at the front consisting of men only, but on the

relief ships there were both sexes. An American nurse who was in Japan

during the war said we had many things to learn from the Japanese and

few to teach, in the way of handling the wounded.

The pamphlet called, "The Red Cross in the Far East," states that if a

member dies, his _hair_ or his _ashes_ with the death certificate and

his personal belongings shall be forwarded to his former quarters.

The Red Cross in Japan numbers now more than one million five hundred

thousand members, has twelve hospitals and two hospital ships, and

nearly four thousand doctors, apothecaries and nurses ready for service.

On her first voyage, the hospital ship _Kosai Maru_, was out from March,

1904, until December, 1905, and transported more than thirteen thousand

patients. There are Red Cross stations also in Formosa and Port Arthur.

The Empress Dowager often attended the meetings of the society, and

assisted with large contributions. The Japanese Red Cross is said to be

the largest, the best and the richest in the world.

[Illustration: RED CROSS HOSPITAL BUILDINGS.]

To return to distinctively religious work, the time that I could myself

give to the observation of missions was limited, but I saw something of

the Episcopal work in Tokyo. Bishop McKim was absent most of the winter

in the Philippines, but the Rev. Dr. Wallace, whom we had known in

Honolulu years before, conducted the services. Japanese services were

also held at the cathedral, and a school for native children was carried

on by the mission. The bishop's house and that of Dr. Wallace, which

were in the cathedral compound, were of brick and looked fairly

comfortable.

As the lower classes are decidedly emotional and are easily influenced

by revival meetings, while the better class naturally tend toward

philosophy and other intellectual studies, there is room for Christian

workers of different denominations. In actual numbers there are more of

the Episcopalians than of any other Protestant denomination, as they

include the English, Canadians, Australians and Americans. Next to these

in number are the Presbyterians. There is a Unitarian mission conducted

by the Rev. Dr. MacCauley, who has been there many years and whom we

knew well. The Baptists are prominent in Yokohama. The American Board

missionaries--the Congregationalists--I have been told, do the best

work.

A very kindly spirit exists among them all, but they could economize

greatly if they worked even more in union. Each mission, for instance,

has its Japanese secretary, because of the difficulty of the language,

but if they combined, they could do with fewer secretaries, and could

also have Japanese teachers for Japanese subjects. A few big,

broad-minded men--like Dr. Greene, who was looked up to by every

one--who were men of affairs as well as clergymen, could do much good by

acting as the heads of the missions and directing the Japanese

Christians, somewhat as is done in the stations of the American Board.

Right here I wish to pay my tribute to the beautiful life and the great

work of the Rev. Dr. Greene, whose death last September left the

American Board mission poorer for his loss. Dr. Greene and his wife went

to Japan in 1869, when the government edict banning Christianity was

still in force. They lived to see the country under a constitutional

government, with a modern system of education and full religious

liberty. Dr. Greene was a missionary statesman; he was the intimate

friend of Count Okuma and other Japanese leaders. As teacher, author,

translator of the New Testament, and president of the Asiatic Society,

he did a varied work. A few months before his death the Emperor

conferred upon Dr. Greene the Third Class of the Order of the Rising

Sun, the highest decoration awarded to civilians residing in Japan.

A work frequently overlooked is the service rendered in translation and

the compilation of dictionaries. When Dr. Hepburn, to whom I have

already referred, reached Japan in 1859, immediately after establishing

his dispensary, he began the preparation of a Japanese-English

dictionary, and as he had previously lived for several years in China,

he was able to make rapid progress. In 1867 he brought out his great

lexicon, which was published in Shanghai, because printing from metal

type was not then done in Japan. When an invoice of it arrived in

Yokohama, "Two worlds, as by an isthmus, seemed to have been united....

As a rapid feat of intellect and industry, it seemed a _tour de force_,

a Marathon run." Later, Dr. Hepburn assisted in translating the Bible

into Japanese. For all his work--as physician, lexicographer, translator

of the Bible--and especially for his noble character, he was known in

Japan as "_Kunshi_," the superior man. Engraved on his tombstone are the

words, "God bless the Japanese."

The following statistics, given out recently by the Japanese Bureau of

Religion, are interesting as showing the number of adherents to each of

the great faiths:

Christians, 140,000

Buddhists, 29,420,000

Believing Buddhists, 18,910,000

Shintoists, 19,390,000

Believing Shintoists, 710,000

Temples with priests, 72,128

Temples without priests, 37,417

The discrepancy between the number of "believing Shintoists" and

Shintoists is explained when we remember that all persons in government

employ--military and naval officers, officials in the civil service, and

teachers in government schools--must be nominal Shintoists, even though

they are Buddhists at heart.

I cannot better close this chapter than by giving the opinions of a few

representative people of different faiths and nationalities upon the

subject of missions in Japan.

Professor Masumi Hino of Doshisha University, _a Christian Japanese_,

gives reasons why none of the old faiths will meet the needs of Japan

to-day. He says, "Shinto stands for polytheism, which in Japan stands

side by side with skepticism and religious indifference." He credits

Confucianism with teaching "fair and square dealings with every man,"

but adds, "It nevertheless fails to meet the people's yearning after the

eternal values." Buddhism will also, he believes, "fail to be the

supreme spiritual force in Japan," because it does not attach sufficient

importance to ethical teaching; because it sinks the individual in "the

absolute and the whole;" and because its belief in immortality is "based

on the pessimistic view of life."

Professor Hino acknowledges his own debt and that of the Japanese people

to all three religions, but questions whether any of these can meet the

pressure of twentieth-century life and problems. For himself he believes

Christianity alone "is able to meet the demands of the coming generation

in Japan."

Mr. E. J. Harrison, _a resident of Japan for fourteen years_, says in

his book, "The Fighting Spirit of Japan":

"I venture the opinion merely for what it may be worth, but that opinion

is, that those who flatter themselves that the day will ever dawn when

the Japanese as a people will profess Christianity imagine a vain thing,

and are pursuing a will-o'-the-wisp. They will dabble in Christianity as

they have dabbled and are dabbling in numerous other 'anities,' 'isms,'

and 'ologies'; but the sort of Christianity which will ultimately be

evolved in Japan will have very little in common with its various

prototypes of the Occident." Most people residing in Japan for any

length of time agree with Mr. Harrison.

Then there is the _missionary opinion_. As recently as August 22, 1913,

Rev. Dr. Greene wrote from Tokyo:

"Everything points to an increased appreciation of the place of religion

in human life. The rapid headway which the more spiritual philosophy of

the West, as represented by Bergson and Eucken, is making among the

thoughtful men of Japan, including the young men of the universities,

suggests much promise. Professor Anezaki, head of the department of

Comparative Religion in the Imperial University of Tokyo, said not long

ago that the students were weary of the materialism still propagated by

certain of the older Japanese thinkers, and were seeking guidance of

younger men imbued with the more recent philosophical thought.

"If the Christian leaders will but put themselves in harmony with this

deep-flowing stream, they may well indulge the brightest hopes."

At a special gathering of public men in Tokyo in 1913, when evangelistic

preachers from America were present, Baron Sakatani, the Mayor, although

_not a Christian himself_, said:

"You men of the West owe us a lot. Your civilization has come in and

broken down very largely the old faiths of Japan. We are looking for a

new and better one. You owe it to us to help us find something to take

the place of that which we have lost."

A year or two ago, the Minister of Education, who is _not a Christian_,

called a conference of Buddhists, Shintoists and Christians, at which he

said, "What Japan needs is more vital religion, and I ask each of you to

become more in earnest in bringing your faith to bear upon the lives of

our people."

The Spell of Japan · 第 9 / 16 章