_Zenaku wo saiban suru tame no_ The unique standard which is used
Virtue vice-judging sake of for judging virtue or vice is
_mochiitaru yuitsu no hyojun wa_ benevolent conduct solely.
used unique standard
_jiai no koi tada_
benevolence of conduct only
_kore nomi._
this alone.
It will be observed that in the above sentence there are two
untranslated words, _wo_ and _wa_. These belong to a group of four
auxiliary particles called _te_ _ni_ _wo_ _ha_ (or _wa_), which serve
to mark the cases of nouns, _te_ (or _de_) being the sign of the
instrumental ablative; _ni_ that of the dative; _wo_ that of the
objective, and _wa_ that of the nominative. These exist in the Korean
language also, but not in any other tongue. There are also polite and
ordinary forms of expression, often so different as to constitute
distinct languages; and there are a number of honorifics which
frequently discharge the duty of pronouns. Another marked peculiarity
is that active agency is never attributed to neuter nouns. A Japanese
does not say "the poison killed him" but "he died on account of the
poison;" nor does he say "the war has caused commodities to
appreciate," but "commodities have appreciated in consequence of the
war." That the language loses much force owing to this limitation
cannot be denied: metaphor and allegory are almost completely
banished.
The difficulties that confront an Occidental who attempts to learn
Japanese are enormous. There are three languages to be acquired:
first, the ordinary colloquial; second, the polite colloquial; and,
third, the written. The ordinary colloquial differs materially from
its polite form, and both are as unlike the written form as modern
Italian is unlike ancient Latin. "Add to this," writes Professor B. H.
Chamberlain, "the necessity of committing to memory two syllabaries,
one of which has many variant forms, and at least two or three
thousand Chinese ideographs, in forms standard and
cursive--ideographs, too, most of which are susceptible of three or
four different readings according to circumstance,--add, further, that
all these kinds of written symbols are apt to be encountered pell mell
on the same page, and the task of mastering Japanese becomes almost
Herculean." In view of all this there is a strong movement in favour
of romanizing the Japanese script: that is to say, abolishing the
ideograph and adopting in its place the Roman alphabet. But while
every one appreciates the magnitude of the relief that would thus be
afforded, there has as yet been little substantial progress. A
language which has been adapted from its infancy to ideographic
transmission cannot easily be fitted to phonetic uses.
_Dictionaries._--F. Brinkley, _An Unabridged Japanese-English
Dictionary_ (Tokyo, 1896); Y. Shimada, _English-Japanese Dictionary_,
(Tokyo, 1897); _Webster's Dictionary, trans. into Japanese_, (Tokyo,
1899); J. H. Gubbins, _Dictionary of Chinese-Japanese Words_ (3
vols., London, 1889); J. C. Hepburn, _Japanese-English and
English-Japanese Dictionary_ (London, 1903); E. M. Satow and I.
Masakata, _English-Japanese Dictionary_ (London, 1904).
_Literature._--From the neighbouring continent the Japanese derived the
art of transmitting ideas to paper. But as to the date of that
acquisition there is doubt. An authenticated work compiled A.D. 720
speaks of historiographers having been appointed to collect local
records for the first time in 403, from which it is to be inferred that
such officials had already existed at the court. There is also a
tradition that some kind of general history was compiled in 620 but
destroyed by fire in 645. At all events, the earliest book now extant
dates from 712. Its origin is described in its preface. When the emperor
Temmu (673-686) ascended the throne, he found that there did not exist
any revised collection of the fragmentary annals of the chief families.
He therefore caused these annals to be collated. There happened to be
among the court ladies one Hiyeda no Are, who was gifted with an
extraordinary memory. Measures were taken to instruct her in the genuine
traditions and the old language of former ages, the intention being to
have the whole ultimately dictated to a competent scribe. But the
emperor died before the project could be consummated, and for
twenty-five years Are's memory remained the sole depository of the
collected annals. Then, under the auspices of the empress Gemmyo, the
original plan was carried out in 712, Yasumaro being the scribe. The
work that resulted is known as the _Kojiki_ (_Record of Ancient
Matters_). It has been accurately translated by Professor B. H.
Chamberlain (_Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan_, vol. x.),
who, in a preface justly regarded by students of Japan as an exegetical
classic, makes the pertinent comment: "Taking the word Altaïc in its
usual acceptation, viz. as the generic name of all the languages
belonging to the Manchu, Mongolian, Turkish and Finnish groups, not only
the archaic, but the classical, literature of Japan carries us back
several centuries beyond the earliest extant documents of any other
Altaïc tongue." By the term "archaic" is to be understood the pure
Japanese language of earliest times, and by the term "classical" the
quasi-Chinese language which came into use for literary purposes when
Japan appropriated the civilization of her great neighbours. The
_Kojiki_ is written in the archaic form: that is to say, the language is
the language of old Japan, the script, although ideographic, is used
phonetically only, and the case-indicators are represented by Chinese
characters having the same sounds. It is a species of saga, setting
forth not only the heavenly beginnings of the Japanese race, but also
the story of creation, the succession of the various sovereigns and the
salient events of their reigns, the whole interspersed with songs, many
of which may be attributed to the 6th century, while some doubtless date
from the fourth or even the third. This _Kojiki_ marks the parting of
the ways. Already by the time of its compilation the influence of
Chinese civilization and Chinese literature had prevailed so greatly in
Japan that the next authentic work, composed only eight years later, was
completely Chinese in style and embodied Chinese traditions and Chinese
philosophical doctrines, not distinguishing them from their Japanese
context. This volume was called the _Nihongi_ (_Chronicles of Japan_).
It may be said to have wholly supplanted its predecessor in popular
favour, for the classic style--that is to say, the Chinese--had now come
to be regarded as the only erudite script. The _Chronicles_ re-traversed
much of the ground already gone over by the _Record_, preserving many of
the songs in occasionally changed form, omitting some portions,
supplementing others, and imparting to the whole such an exotic
character as almost to disqualify the work for a place in Japanese
literature. Yet this was the style which thenceforth prevailed among the
litterati of Japan. "Standard Chinese soon became easier to understand
than archaic Japanese, as the former alone was taught in the schools,
and the native language changed rapidly during the century or two that
followed the diffusion of the foreign tongue and civilization"
(CHAMBERLAIN). The neglect into which the _Kojiki_ fell lasted until the
17th century. Almost simultaneously with its appearance in type (1644)
and its consequent accessibility, there arose a galaxy of scholars
under whose influence the archaic style and the ancient Japanese
traditions entered a period of renaissance. The story of this period and
of its products has been admirably told by Sir Ernest Satow ("Revival of
Pure Shinto," _Proceedings of the Asiatic Society of Japan_, vol. iii.),
whose essay, together with Professor Chamberlain's _Kojiki_, the same
author's introduction to _The Classical Poetry of the Japanese_, and Mr
W. G. Aston's _Nihongi_, are essential to every student of Japanese
literature. To understand this 17th century renaissance, knowledge of
one fact is necessary, namely, that about the year A. D. 810, a
celebrated Buddhist priest, Kukai, who had spent several years studying
in China, compounded out of Buddhism, Confucianism and Shinto a system
of doctrine called _Ryobu Shinto_ (Dual Shinto), the prominent tenet of
which was that the Shinto deities were merely transmigrations of
Buddhist divinities. By this device Japanese conservatism was
effectually conciliated, and Buddhism became in fact the creed of the
nation, its positive and practical precepts entirely eclipsing the
agnostic intuitionalism of Shinto. Against this hybrid faith several
Japanese scholars arrayed themselves in the 17th and 18th centuries, the
greatest of them being Mabuchi and Motoori. The latter's _magnum opus_,
_Kojikiden_ (_Exposition of the Record of Ancient Matters_), declared by
Chamberlain to be "perhaps the most admirable work of which Japanese
erudition can boast," consists of 44 large volumes, devoted to
elucidating the _Kojiki_ and resuscitating the Shinto cult as it existed
in the earliest days. This great work of reconstruction was only one
feature of the literary activity which marked the 17th and 18th
centuries, when, under Tokugawa rule, the blessing of long-unknown peace
came to the nation. Iyeyasu himself devoted the last years of his life
to collecting ancient manuscripts. In his country retreat at Shizuoka he
formed one of the richest libraries ever brought together in Japan, and
by will he bequeathed the Japanese section of it to his eighth son, the
feudal chief of Owari, and the Chinese section to his ninth son, the
prince of Kishu, with the result that under the former feudatory's
auspices two works of considerable merit were produced treating of
ancient ceremonials and supplementing the _Nihongi_. Much more
memorable, however, was a library formed by Iyeyasu's grandson the
feudal chief of Mito (1662-1700), who not only collected a vast quantity
of books hitherto scattered among Shinto and Buddhist monasteries and
private houses, but also employed a number of scholars to compile a
history unprecedented in magnitude, the _Dai-Nihon-shi_. It consisted of
240 volumes, and it became at once the standard in its own branch of
literature. Still more comprehensive was a book emanating from the same
source and treating of court ceremonials. It ran to more than 500
volumes, and the emperor honoured the work by bestowing on it the title
_Reigi Ruiten_ (_Rules of Ceremonials_). These compilations together
with the _Nihon Gwaishi_ (_History of Japan Outside the Court_), written
by Rai Sanyo and published in 1827, constituted the chief sources of
historical knowledge before the Meiji era. Rai Sanyo devoted twenty
years to the preparation of his 22 volumes and took his materials from
259 Japanese and Chinese works. But neither he nor his predecessors
recognized in history anything more than a vehicle for recording the
mere sequence of events and their relations, together with some account
of the personages concerned. Their volumes make profoundly dry reading.
Vicarious interest, however, attaches to the productions of the Mito
School on account of the political influence they exercised in
rehabilitating the nation's respect for the throne by unveiling the
picture of an epoch prior to the usurpations of military feudalism. The
struggles of the great rival clans, replete with episodes of the most
tragic and stirring character, inspired quasi-historical narrations of a
more popular character, which often took the form of illuminated
scrolls. But it was not until the Meiji era that history, in the modern
sense of the term, began to be written. During recent times many
students have turned their attention to this branch of literature. Works
of wide scope and clear insight have been produced, and the
Historiographers' section in the Imperial University of Tokyo has been
for several years engaged in collecting and collating materials for a
history which will probably rank with anything of the kind in existence.
Poetry.
In their poetry above everything the Japanese have remained impervious
to alien influences. It owes this conservation to its prosody. Without
rhyme, without variety of metre, without elasticity of dimensions, it
is also without known counterpart. To alter it in any way would be to
deprive it of all distinguishing characteristics. At some remote date
a Japanese maker of songs seems to have discovered that a peculiar and
very fascinating rhythm is produced by lines containing 5 syllables
and 7 syllables alternately. That is Japanese poetry (_uta_ or
_tanka_). There are generally five lines: the first and third
consisting of 5 syllables, the second, fourth and fifth of 7, making a
total of 31 in all. The number of lines is not compulsory: sometimes
they may reach to thirty, forty or even more, but the alternation of 5
and 7 syllables is compulsory. The most attenuated form of all is the
_hokku_ (or _haikai_) which consists of only three lines, namely, 17
syllables. Necessarily the ideas embodied in such a narrow vehicle
must be fragmentary. Thus it results that Japanese poems are, for the
most part, impressionist; they suggest a great deal more than they
actually express. Here is an example:--
Momiji-ha wo \
Kaze ni makasete | More fleeting than the glint of
Miru yori mo > withered leaf wind-blown, the
Hakanaki mono wa | thing called life.
Inochi nari keri /
There is no English metre with this peculiar cadence.
It is not to be inferred that the writers of Japan, enamoured as they
were of Chinese ideographs and Chinese style, deliberately excluded
everything Chinese from the realm of poetry. On the contrary, many of
them took pleasure in composing versicles to which Chinese words were
admitted and which showed something of the "parallelism" peculiar to
Chinese poetry, since the first ideograph of the last line was
required to be identical with the final ideograph. But rhyme was not
attempted, and the syllabic metre of Japan was preserved, the
alternation of 5 and 7 being, however, dispensed with. Such couplets
were called _shi_ to distinguish them from the pure Japanese _uta_ or
_tanka_. The two greatest masters of Japanese poetry were Hitomaro and
Akahito, both of the early 8th century, and next to them stands
Tsurayuki, who flourished at the beginning of the 10th century, and is
not supposed to have transmitted his mantle to any successor. The
choicest productions of the former two with those of many other poets
were brought together in 756 and embodied in a book called the
_Manyoshu (Collection of a Myriad Leaves)_. The volume remained unique
until the beginning of the 10th century, when (A.D. 905) Tsurayuki and
three coadjutors compiled the _Kokinshu (Collection of Odes Ancient
and Modern)_, the first of twenty-one similar anthologies between the
11th and the 15th centuries, which constitute the _Niju-ichi Dai-shu
(Anthologies of the One-and-Twenty Reigns)_. If to these we add the
_Hyaku-ninshu (Hundred Odes by a Hundred Poets)_ brought together by
Teika Kyo in the 13th century, we have all the classics of Japanese
poetry. For the composition of the _uta_ gradually deteriorated from
the end of the 9th century, when a game called _uta-awase_ became a
fashionable pastime, and aristocratic men and women tried to string
together versicles of 31 syllables, careful of the form and careless
of the thought. The _uta-awase_, in its later developments, may not
unjustly be compared to the Occidental game of _bouts-rimés_. The
poetry of the nation remained immovable in the ancient groove until
very modern times, when, either by direct access to the originals or
through the medium of very defective translations, the nation became
acquainted with the masters of Occidental song. A small coterie of
authors, headed by Professor Toyama, then attempted to revolutionize
Japanese poetry by recasting it on European lines. But the project
failed signally, and indeed it may well be doubted whether the
Japanese language can be adapted to such uses.
Influence of Women in Japanese Literature.
It was under the auspices of an empress (Suiko) that the first
historical manuscript is said to have been compiled in 620. It was
under the auspices of an empress (Gemmyo) that the _Record of Ancient
Matters_ was transcribed (712) from the lips of a court lady. And it
was under the auspices of an empress that the _Chronicles of Japan_
were composed (720). To women, indeed, from the 8th century onwards
may be said to have been entrusted the guardianship of the pure
Japanese language, the classical, or Chinese, form being adopted by
men. The distinction continued throughout the ages. To this day the
spoken language of Japanese women is appreciably simpler and softer
than that of the men, and to this day while the educated woman uses
the hiragana syllabary in writing, eschews Chinese words and rarely
pens an ideograph, the educated man employs the ideograph entirely,
and translates his thoughts as far as possible into the mispronounced
Chinese words without recourse to which it would be impossible for him
to discuss any scientific subject, or even to refer to the details of
his daily business. Japan was thus enriched with two works of very
high merit, the _Genji Monogatari_ (c. 1004) and the _Makura no Zoshi_
(about the same date). The former, by Murasaki no Shikibu--probably a
pseudonym--was the first novel composed in Japan. Before her time
there had been many _monogatari_ (narratives), but all consisted
merely of short stories, mythical or quasi-historical, whereas
Murasaki no Shikibu did for Japan what Fielding and Richardson did for
England. Her work was "a prose epic of real life," the life of her
hero, _Genji_. Her language is graceful and natural, her sentiments
are refined and sober; and, as Mr Aston well says, her "story flows on
easily from one scene of real life to another, giving us a varied and
minutely detailed picture of life and society in Kioto, such as we
possess for no other country at the same period." The _Makura no Zoshi
(Pillow Sketches)_, like the _Genji Monogatari_, was by a noble
lady--Sei Shonagon--but it is simply a record of daily events and
fugitive thoughts, though not in the form of a diary. The book is one
of the most natural and unaffected compositions ever written.
Undesignedly it conveys a wonderfully realistic picture of
aristocratic life and social ethics in Kioto at the beginning of the
11th century. "If we compare it with anything that Europe has to show
at this period, it must be admitted that it is indeed a remarkable
work. What a revelation it would be if we had the court life of
Alfred's or Canute's reign depicted to us in a similar way?"
The Dark Age.
The period from the early part of the 14th century to the opening of
the 17th is generally regarded as the dark age of Japanese literature.
The constant wars of the time left their impress upon everything. To
them is due the fact that the two principal works compiled during this
epoch were, one political, the other quasi-historical. In the former,
_Jinkoshoto-ki (History of the True Succession of the Divine
Monarchs)_, Kitabatake Chikafusa (1340) undertook to prove that of the
two sovereigns then disputing for supremacy in Japan, Go-Daigo was the
rightful monarch; in the latter, _Taihei-ki (History of Great Peace)_,
Kojima (1370) devoted his pages to describing the events of
contemporaneous history. Neither work can be said to possess signal
literary merit, but both had memorable consequences. For the
_Jinkoshoto-ki_, by its strong advocacy of the mikado's administrative
rights as against the usurpations of military feudalism, may be said
to have sowed the seeds of Japan's modern polity; and the _Taihei-ki_,
by its erudite diction, skilful rhetoric, simplification of old
grammatical constructions and copious interpolation of Chinese words,
furnished a model for many imitators and laid the foundations of
Japan's 19th-century style. The _Taihei-ki_ produced another notable
effect; it inspired public readers who soon developed into historical
_raconteurs_; a class of professionals who are almost as much in vogue
to-day as they were 500 years ago. Belonging to about the same period
as the _Jinkoshoto-ki_, another classic occupies a leading place in
Japanese esteem. It is the _Tsure-zure-gusa (Materials for Dispelling
Ennui)_, by Kenko-boshi, described by Mr Aston as "one of the most
delightful oases in Japanese literature; a collection of short
sketches, anecdotes and essays on all imaginable subjects, something
in the manner of Selden's _Table Talk_."
The Drama.
The so-called dark age of Japanese literature was not entirely
unproductive: it gave the drama (_No_) to Japan. Tradition ascribes
the origin of the drama to a religious dance of a pantomimic
character, called _Kagura_ and associated with Shinto ceremonials. The
No, however, owed its development mainly to Buddhist influence. During
the medieval era of internecine strife the Buddhist priests were the
sole depositaries of literary talent, and seeing that, from the close
of the 14th century, the Shinto mime (Kagura) was largely employed by
the military class to invoke or acknowledge the assistance of the
gods, the monks of Buddha set themselves to compose librettos for this
mime, and the performance, thus modified, received the name of No.
Briefly speaking, the No was a dance of the most stately character,
adapted to the incidents of dramas "which embrace within their scope a
world of legendary lore, of quaint fancies and of religious
sentiment." Their motives were chiefly confined to such themes as the
law of retribution to which all human beings are subjected, the
transitoriness of life and the advisability of shaking off from one's
feet the dust of this sinful world. But some were of a purely martial
nature. This difference is probably explained by the fact that the
idea of thus modifying the Kagura had its origin in musical
recitations from the semi-romantic semi-historical narratives of the
14th century. Such recitations were given by itinerant Bonzes, and it
is easy to understand the connexion between them and the No. Very soon
the No came to occupy in the estimation of the military class a
position similar to that held by the _tanka_ as a literary pursuit,
and the _gagaku_ as a musical, in the Imperial court. All the great
aristocrats not only patronized the No but were themselves ready to
take part in it. Costumes of the utmost magnificence were worn, and
the chiselling of masks for the use of the performers occupied scores
of artists and ranked as a high glyptic accomplishment. There are 335
classical dramas of this kind in a compendium called the _Yokyoka
Tsuge_, and many of them are inseparably connected with the names of
Kwanami Kiyotsugu (1406) and his son Motokiyo (1455), who are counted
the fathers of the art. For a moment, when the tide of Western
civilization swept over Japan, the No seemed likely to be permanently
submerged. But the renaissance of nationalism (_kokusui hoson_) saved
the venerable drama, and owing to the exertions of Prince Iwakura, the
artist Hosho Kuro and Umewaka Minoru, it stands as high as ever in
popular favour. Concerning the five schools into which the No is
divided, their characteristics and their differences--these are
matters of interest to the initiated alone.
The Farce.
The Japanese are essentially a laughter-loving people. They are highly
susceptible of tragic emotions, but they turn gladly to the brighter
phases of life. Hence a need was soon felt of something to dispel the
pessimism of the No, and that something took the form of comedies
played in the interludes of the No and called _Kyogen_ (mad words).
The Kyogen needs no elaborate description: it is a pure farce, never
immodest or vulgar.
The Theatre.
The classic drama No and its companion the Kyogen had two children,
the _Joruri_ and the _Kabuki_. They were born at the close of the 16th
century and they owed their origin to the growing influence of the
commercial class, who asserted a right to be amused but were excluded
from enjoyment of the aristocratic No and the Kyogen. The Joruri is a
dramatic ballad, sung or recited to the accompaniment of the _samisen_
and in unison with the movements of puppets. It came into existence in
Kioto and was thence transferred to Yedo (Tokyo), where the greatest
of Japanese playwrights, Chikamatsu Monzaemon (1653-1724), and a
musician of exceptional talent, Takemoto Gidayu, collaborated to
render this puppet drama a highly popular entertainment. It flourished
for nearly 200 years in Yedo, and is still occasionally performed in
Osaka. Like the No the Joruri dealt always with sombre themes, and was
supplemented by the Kabuki (farce). This last owed its inception to a
priestess who, having abandoned her holy vocation at the call of love,
espoused dancing as a means of livelihood and trained a number of
girls for the purpose. The law presently interdicted these female
comedians (_onna-kabuki_) in the interests of public morality, and
they were succeeded by "boy comedians" (_wakashu-kabuki_) who
simulated women's ways and were vetoed in their turn, giving place to
_yaro-kabuki_ (comedians with queues). Gradually the Kabuki developed
the features of a genuine theatre; the actor and the playwright were
discriminated, and, the performances taking the form of domestic drama
(_Wagoto_ and _Sewamono_) or historical drama (_Aragoto_ or
_Jidaimono_), actors of perpetual fame sprang up, as Sakata Tojuro and
Ichikawa Danjinro (1660-1704). Mimetic posture-dances (_Shosagoto_)
were always introduced as interludes; past and present
indiscriminately contributed to the playwright's subjects; realism was
carried to extremes; a revolving stage and all mechanical accessories
were supplied; female parts were invariably taken by males, who
attained almost incredible skill in these simulations; a chorus--relic
of the No--chanted expositions of profound sentiments or thrilling
incidents; and histrionic talent of the very highest order was often
displayed. But the _Kabuki-za_ and its _yakusha_ (actors) remained
always a plebeian institution. No _samurai_ frequented the former or
associated with the latter. With the introduction of Western
civilization in modern times, however, the theatre ceased to be
tabooed by the aristocracy. Men and women of all ranks began to visit
it; the emperor himself consented (1887) to witness a performance by
the great stars of the stage at the private residence of Marquis
Inouye; a dramatic reform association was organized by a number of
prominent noblemen and scholars; drastic efforts were made to purge
the old historical dramas of anachronisms and inconsistencies, and at
length a theatre (the _Yuraku-za_) was built on purely European lines,
where instead of sitting from morning to night witnessing one
long-drawn-out drama with interludes of whole farces, a visitor may
devote only a few evening-hours to the pastime. The Shosagoto has not
been abolished, nor is there any reason why it should be. It has
graces and beauties of its own. There remains to be noted the
incursion of amateurs into the histrionic realm. In former times the
actor's profession was absolutely exclusive in Japan. Children were
trained to wear their fathers' mantles, and the idea that a
non-professional could tread the hallowed ground of the stage did not
enter any imagination. But with the advent of the new regimen in Meiji
days there arose a desire for social plays depicting the life of the
modern generation, and as these "croppy dramas" (_zampatsu-mono_)--so
called in allusion to the European method of cutting the hair
close--were not included in the repertoire of the orthodox theatre,
amateur troupes (known as _soshi-yakusha_) were organized to fill the
void. Even Shakespeare has been played by these amateurs, and the
abundant wit of the Japanese is on the way to enrich the stage with
modern farces of unquestionable merit.
Literature of the Tokugawa Era.
The Tokugawa era (1603-1867), which popularized the drama, had other
memorable effects upon Japanese literature. Yedo, the shogun's
capital, displaced Kioto as the centre of literary activity. Its
population of more than a million, including all sorts and conditions
of men--notably wealthy merchants and mechanics--constituted a new
audience to which authors had to address themselves; and an
unparalleled development of mental activity necessitated wholesale
drafts upon the Chinese vocabulary. To this may be attributed the
appearance of a group of men known as _kangakusha_ (Chinese scholars).
The most celebrated among them were: Fujiwara Seikwa (1560-1619), who
introduced his countrymen to the philosophy of Chu-Hi; Hayashi Rasan
(1583-1657), who wrote 170 treatises on scholastic and moral subjects;
Kaibara Ekken (1630-1714), teacher of a fine system of ethics; Arai
Hakuseki (1657-1725), historian, philosopher, statesman and financier:
and Muro Kiuso, the second great exponent of Chu-Hi's philosophy.
"Japan owes a profound debt of gratitude to the _kangakusha_ of that
time. For their day and country they were emphatically the salt of
earth." But naturally not all were believers in the same philosophy.
The fervour of the followers of Chu-Hi (the orthodox school) could not
fail to provoke opposition. Thus some arose who declared allegiance to
the idealistic intuitionalism of Wang Yang-ming, and others advocated
direct study of the works of Confucius and Mencius. Connected with
this rejection of Chu-Hi were such eminent names as those of Ito
Junsai (1627-1718), Ito Togai (1617-1736), Ogyu Sorai (1666-1728) and
Dazai Shuntai (1679-1747). These Chinese scholars made no secret of
their contempt for Buddhism, and in their turn they were held in
aversion by the Buddhists and the Japanese scholars (_wagakusha_), so
that the second half of the 18th century was a time of perpetual
wrangling and controversy. The worshippers at the shrine of Chinese
philosophy evoked a reactionary spirit of nationalism, just as the
excessive worship of Occidental civilization was destined to do in the
19th century.
Apart from philosophical researches and the development of the drama,
as above related, the Tokugawa era is remarkable for folk-lore, moral
discourses, fiction and a peculiar form of poetry. This last does not
demand much attention. Its principal variety is the _haikai_, which is
nothing more than a _tanka_ shorn of its concluding fourteen
syllables, and therefore virtually identical with the _hokku_, already
described. The name of Basho is immemorially associated with this kind
of lilliputian versicle, which reached the extreme of impressionism. A
more important addition to Japanese literature was made in the 17th
century in the form of children's tales (_Otogibanashi_). They are
charmingly simple and graceful, and they have been rendered into
English again and again since the beginning of the Meiji era. But
whether they are to be regarded as genuine folk-lore or merely as a
branch of the fiction of the age when they first appeared in book
form, remains uncertain. Of fiction proper there was an abundance. The
pioneer of this kind of literature is considered to have been Saikaku
(1641-1693), who wrote sketches of everyday life as he saw it, short
tales of some merit and novels which deal with the most disreputable
phases of human existence. His notable successors in the same line
were two men of Kioto, named Jisho (1675-1745) and Kiseki (1666-1716).
They had their own publishing house, and its name _Hachimonji-ya_
(figure-of-eight store) came to be indelibly associated with this kind
of literature. But these men did little more than pave the way for the
true romantic novel, which first took shape under the hand of Santo
Kyoden (1761-1816), and culminated in the works of Bakin, Tanehiko,
Samba, Ikku, Shunsui and their successors. Of nearly all the books in
this class it may be said that they deal largely in sensationalism and
pornography, though it does not follow that their language is either
coarse or licentious. The life of the virtuous Japanese woman being
essentially uneventful, these romancists not unnaturally sought their
female types among dancing-girls and courtesans. The books were
profusely illustrated with woodcuts and chromoxylographs from pictures
of the _ukiyoe_ masters, who, like the playwright, the actor and the
romancer, ministered to the pleasure of the "man in the street." Brief
mention must also be made of two other kinds of books belonging to
this epoch; namely, the _Shingaku-sho_ (ethical essays) and the
_Jitsuroku-mono_ (true records). The latter were often little more
than historical novels founded on facts; and the former, though
nominally intended to engraft the doctrines of Buddhism and Shinto
upon the philosophy of China, were really of rationalistic tendency.
The Meiji Era.
Although the incursions made into Chinese philosophy and the revival
of Japanese traditions during the Tokugawa Epoch contributed
materially to the overthrow of feudalism and the restoration of the
Throne's administrative power, the immediate tendency of the last two
events was to divert the nation's attention wholly from the study of
either Confucianism or the _Record of Ancient Matters_. A universal
thirst set in for Occidental science and literature, so that students
occupied themselves everywhere with readers and grammars modelled on
European lines rather than with the Analects or the _Kojiki_. English
at once became the language of learning. Thus the three colleges which
formed the nucleus of the Imperial University of Tokyo were presided
over by a graduate of Michigan College (Professor Toyama), a member of
the English bar (Professor Hozumi) and a graduate of Cambridge (Baron
Kikuchi). If Japan was eminently fortunate in the men who directed her
political career at that time, she was equally favoured in those that
presided over her literary culture. Fukuzawa Yukichi, founder of the
Keio Gijuku, now one of Japan's four universities, did more than any
of his contemporaries by writing and speaking to spread a knowledge of
the West, its ways and its thoughts, and Nakamura Keiu laboured in the
same cause by translating Smiles's _Self-help_ and Mill's
_Representative Government_. A universal geography (by Uchida Masao);
a history of nations (by Mitsukuri Rinsho); a translation of
_Chambers's Encyclopaedia_ by the department of education; Japanese
renderings of Herbert Spencer and of Guizot and Buckle--all these made
their appearance during the first fourteen years of the epoch. The
influence of politics may be strongly traced in the literature of that
time, for the first romances produced by the new school were all of a
political character: _Keikoku Bidan_ (_Model for Statesmen_, with
Epaminondas for hero) by Yano Fumio; _Setchubai (Plum-blossoms in
snow)_ and _Kwakwan-o (Nightingale Among Flowers)_ by Suyehiro. This
idea of subserving literature to political ends is said to have been
suggested by Nakae Tokusuke's translation of Rousseau's _Contrat
social_. The year 1882 saw _Julius Caesar_ in a Japanese dress. The
translator was Tsubouchi Shoyo, one of the greatest writers of the
Meiji era. His _Shosetsu Shinsui (Essentials of a Novel)_ was an
eloquent plea for realism as contrasted with the artificiality of the
characters depicted by Bakin, and his own works illustrative of this
theory took the public by storm. He also brought out the first
literary periodical published in Japan, namely, the _Waseda Bungaku_,
so called because Tsubouchi was professor of literature in the Waseda
University, an institution founded by Count Okuma, whose name cannot
be omitted from any history of Meiji literature, not as an author but
as a patron. As illustrating the rapid development of familiarity with
foreign authors, a Japanese retrospect of the Meiji era notes that
whereas Macaulay's _Essays_ were in the curriculum of the Imperial
University in 1881-1882, they were studied, five or six years later,
in secondary schools, and pupils of the latter were able to read with
understanding the works of Goldsmith, Tennyson and Thackeray. Up to
Tsubouchi's time the Meiji literature was all in the literary
language, but there was then formed a society calling itself
_Kenyusha_, some of whose associates--as Bimyosai--used the colloquial
language in their works, while others--as Koyo, Rohan, &c.--went back
to the classical diction of the Genroku era (1655-1703). Rohan is one
of the most renowned of Japan's modern authors, and some of his
historical romances have had wide vogue. Meanwhile the business of
translating went on apace. Great numbers of European and American
authors were rendered into Japanese--Calderon, Lytton, Disraeli,
Byron, Shakespeare, Milton, Turgueniev, Carlyle, Daudet, Emerson,
Hugo, Heine, De Quincey, Dickens, Körner, Goethe--their name is legion
and their influence upon Japanese literature is conspicuous. In 1888 a
special course of German literature was inaugurated at the Imperial
University, and with it is associated the name of Mori Ogai, Japan's
most faithful interpreter of German thought and speech. Virtually
every literary magnate of the Occident has found one or more
interpreters in modern Japan. Accurate reviewers of the era have
divided it into periods of two or three years each, according to the
various groups of foreign authors that were in vogue, and every year
sees a large addition to the number of Japanese who study the
masterpieces of Western literature in the original.
Newspapers and Periodicals.
Newspapers, as the term is understood in the West, did not exist in
old Japan, though block-printed leaflets were occasionally issued to
describe some specially stirring event. Yet the Japanese were not
entirely unacquainted with journalism. During the last decades of the
factory at Deshima the Dutch traders made it a yearly custom to submit
to the governor of Nagasaki selected extracts from newspapers arriving
from Batavia, and these extracts, having been translated into
Japanese, were forwarded to the court in Yedo together with their
originals. To such compilations the name of _Oranda fusetsu-sho (Dutch
Reports)_ was given. Immediately after the conclusion of the first
treaty in 1857, the Yedo authorities instructed the office for
studying foreign books _(Bunsho torishirabe-dokoro)_ to translate
excerpts from European and American journals. Occasionally these
translations were copied for circulation among officials, but the bulk
of the people knew nothing of them. Thus the first real newspaper did
not see the light until 1861, when a Yedo publisher brought out the
_Batavia News_, a compilation of items from foreign newspapers,
printed on Japanese paper from wooden blocks. Entirely devoid of local
interest, this journal did not survive for more than a few months. It
was followed, in 1864, by the _Shimbun-shi (News)_, which was
published in Yokohama, with Kishida Ginko for editor and John Hiko for
sub-editor. The latter had been cast away, many years previously, on
the coast of the United States and had become a naturalized American
citizen. He retained a knowledge of spoken Japanese, but the
ideographic script was a sealed book to him, and his editorial part
was limited to oral translations from American journals which the
editor committed to writing. The _Shimbun-shi_ essayed to collect
domestic news as well as foreign. It was published twice a month and
might possibly have created a demand for its wares had not the editor
and sub-editor left for America after the issue of the 10th number.
The example, however, had now been set. During the three years that
separated the death of the _Shimbun-shi_ from the birth of the Meiji
era (October 1867) no less than ten quasi-journals made their
appearance. They were in fact nothing better than inferior magazines,
printed from wood-blocks, issued weekly or monthly, and giving little
evidence of enterprise or intellect, though connected with them were
the names of men destined to become famous in the world of literature,
as Fukuchi Genichiro, Tsuji Shinji (afterwards Baron Tsuji) and Suzuki
Yuichi. These publications attracted little interest and exercised no
influence. Journalism was regarded as a mere pastime. The first
evidence of its potentialities was furnished by the _Koko Shimbun (The
World)_ under the editorship of Fukuchi Genichiro and Sasano Dempei.
To many Japanese observers it seemed that the restoration of 1867 had
merely transferred the administrative authority from the Tokugawa
Shogun to the clans of Satsuma and Choshu. The _Koko Shimbun_ severely
attacked the two clans as specious usurpers. It was not in the mood of
Japanese officialdom at that time to brook such assaults. The _Koko
Shimbun_ was suppressed; Fukuchi was thrust into prison, and all
journals or periodicals except those having official sanction were
vetoed. At the beginning of 1868 only two newspapers remained in the
field. Very soon, however, the enlightened makers of modern Japan
appreciated the importance of journalism, and in 1871 the _Shimbun
Zasshi (News Periodical)_ was started under the auspices of the
illustrious Kido. Shortly afterwards there appeared in
Yokohama--whence it was subsequently transferred to Tokyo--the
_Mainichi Shimbun (Daily News)_, the first veritable daily and also
the first journal printed with movable types and foreign presses. Its
editors were Numa Morikage, Shimada Saburo and Koizuka Ryu, all
destined to become celebrated not only in the field of journalism but
also in that of politics. It has often been said of the Japanese that
they are slow in forming a decision but very quick to act upon it.
This was illustrated in the case of journalism. In 1870 the country
possessed only two quasi-journals, both under official auspices. In
1875 it possessed over 100 periodicals and daily newspapers. The most
conspicuous were the _Nichi Nichi Shimbun (Daily News)_, the _Yubin
Hochi (Postal Intelligence)_, the _Choya Shimbun (Government and
People News)_, the _Akebono Shimbun (The Dawn)_, and the _Mainichi
Shimbun (Daily News)_. These were called "the five great journals."
The _Nichi Nichi Shimbun_ had an editor of conspicuous literary
ability in Fukuchi Genichiro, and the _Hochi Shimbun_, its chief
rival, received assistance from such men as Yano Fumio, Fujita
Makichi, Inukai Ki and Minoura Katsundo. Japan had not yet any
political parties, but the ferment that preceded their birth was
abroad. The newspaper press being almost entirely in the hands of men
whose interests suggested wider opening of the door to official
preferment, nearly all editorial pens were directed against the
government. So strenuous did this campaign become that, in 1875, a
press law was enacted empowering the minister of home affairs and the
police to suspend or suppress a journal and to fine or imprison its
editor without public trial. Many suffered under this law, but the
ultimate effect was to invest the press with new popularity, and very
soon the newspapers conceived a device which effectually protected
their literary staff, for they employed "dummy editors" whose sole
function was to go to prison in lieu of the true editor.
Japanese journalistic writing in these early years of Meiji was marred
by extreme and pedantic classicism. There had not yet been any real
escape from the tradition which assigned the crown of scholarship to
whatever author drew most largely upon the resources of the Chinese
language and learning. The example set by the Imperial court, and
still set by it, did not tend to correct this style. The sovereign,
whether speaking by rescript or by ordinance, never addressed the bulk
of his subjects. His words were taken from sources so classical as to
be intelligible to only the highly educated minority. The newspapers
sacrificed their audience to their erudition and preferred classicism
to circulation. Their columns were thus a sealed book to the whole of
the lower middle classes and to the entire female population. The
_Yomiuri Shimbun (Buy and Read News)_ was the first to break away from
this pernicious fashion. Established in 1875, it adopted a style
midway between the classical and the colloquial, and it appended the
syllabic characters to each ideograph, so that its columns became
intelligible to every reader of ordinary education. It was followed by
the _Yeiri Shimbun (Pictorial Newspaper)_, the first to insert
illustrations and to publish _feuilleton_ romances. Both of these
journals devoted space to social news, a radical departure from the
austere restrictions observed by their aristocratic contemporaries.
Era of Political Parties.
The year 1881 saw the nation divided into political parties and within
measured distance of constitutional government. Thenceforth the great
majority of the newspapers and periodicals ranged themselves under the
flag of this or that party. An era of embittered polemics ensued. The
journals, while fighting continuously against each other's principles,
agreed in attacking the ministry, and the latter found it necessary to
establish organs of its own which preached the German system of state
autocracy. Editors seemed to be incapable of rising above the dead
level of political strife, and their utterances were not relieved even
by a semblance of fairness. Readers turned away in disgust, and
journal after journal passed out of existence. The situation was saved
by a newspaper which from the outset of its career obeyed the best
canons of journalism. Born in 1882, the _Jiji Shimpo (Times)_ enjoyed
the immense advantage of having its policy controlled by one of the
greatest thinkers of modern Japan, Fukuzawa Yukichi. Its basic
principle was liberty of the individual, liberty of the family and
liberty of the nation; it was always found on the side of broad-minded
justice, and it derived its materials from economic, social and
scientific sources. Other newspapers of greatly improved character
followed the _Jiji Shimpo_, especially notable among them being the
_Kokumin Shimbun_.
Commercial Journalism.
In the meanwhile Osaka, always pioneer in matters of commercial
enterprise, had set the example of applying the force of capital to
journalistic development. Tokyo journals were all on a literary or
political basis, but the _Osaka Asahi Shimbun (Osaka Rising Sun News)_
was purely a business undertaking. Its proprietor, Maruyama Ryuhei,
spared no expense to obtain news from all quarters of the world, and
for the first time the Japanese public learned what stores of
information may be found in the columns of a really enterprising
journal. Very soon the Asahi had a keen competitor in the _Osaka
Mainichi Shimbun_ (_Osaka Daily News_) and these papers ultimately
crushed all rivals in Osaka. In 1888 Maruyama established another
_Asahi_ in Tokyo, and thither he was quickly followed by his Osaka
rival, which in Tokyo took the name of _Mainichi Dempo_ (_Daily
Telegraph_). These two newspapers now stand alone as purveyors of
copious telegraphic news, and in the next rank, not greatly lower,
comes the _Jiji Shimpo_.
With the opening of the diet in 1890, politics again obtruded
themselves into newspaper columns, but as practical living issues now
occupied attention, readers were no longer wearied by the abstract
homilies of former days. Moreover, freedom of the press was at length
secured. Already (1887) the government had voluntarily made a great
step in advance by divesting itself of the right to imprison or fine
editors by executive order. But it reserved the power of suppressing
or suspending a newspaper, and against that reservation a majority of
the lower house voted, session after session, only to see the bill
rejected by the peers, who shared the government's opinion that to
grant a larger measure of liberty would certainly encourage licence.
Not until 1897 was this opposition fully overcome. A new law, passed
by both houses and confirmed by the emperor, took from the executive
all power over journals, except in cases of lèse majesté, and nothing
now remains of the former arbitrary system except that any periodical
having a political complexion is required to deposit security varying
from 175 to 1000 yen. The result has falsified all sinister
forebodings. A much more moderate tone pervades the writings of the
press since restrictions were entirely removed, and although there are
now 1775 journals and periodicals published throughout the empire,
with a total annual circulation of some 700 million copies,
intemperance of language, such as in former times would have provoked
official interference, is practically unknown to-day. Moreover, the
best Japanese editors have caught with remarkable aptitude the spirit
of modern journalism. But a few years ago they used to compile
laborious essays, in which the inspiration was drawn from Occidental
textbooks, and the alien character of the source was hidden under a
veneer of Chinese aphorisms. To-day they write terse, succinct,
closely-reasoned articles, seldom diffuse, often witty; and generally
free from extravagance of thought or diction. Incidentally they are
hastening the assimilation of the written and the spoken languages
(_genbun itchi_) which may possibly prelude a still greater reform,
abolition of the ideographic script. Yet, with few exceptions, the
profession of journalism is not remunerative. Very low rates of
subscription, and almost prohibitory charges for advertising, are
chiefly to blame.[1] The vicissitudes of the enterprise may be
gathered from the fact that, whereas 2767 journals and periodicals
were started between 1889 and 1894 (inclusive), no less than 2465
ceased publishing. The largest circulation recorded in 1908 was about
150,000 copies daily, and the honour of attaining that exceptional
figure belonged to the _Osaka Asahi Shimbun_. (F. By.)