A GLIMPSE OF SOCIAL LIFE IN JAPAN.
Extending our survey to Japan we come among a people who interest us
greatly in many ways. Their dress is neat and picturesque, their personal
appearance pleasing, and closer acquaintance makes us feel well-disposed
towards these children of the Rising Sun. For they are very polite and
show great solicitude towards the Western stranger, and do all they
can for his comfort. We observe with sympathy, and perhaps a touch of
amusement, their primitive simplicity of manners and habits, which are
all the more piquant because of their naturalness. Their native genius
has in recent years revealed itself in a ready apprehension of immediate
circumstances and in an intelligent adaptability to new conditions, as
well as in wise forethought. Their devotion to duty and disregard of
self when the honour and interests of their country are at stake shone
out brilliantly during the great conflict now happily ended. But this
brief observation would be incomplete without mention of the animating
and sustaining principle of their religion, Shintoism. Their child-like
belief in a spirit-world where their ancestors are looking down upon them
cannot fail to influence them for good in every thought and deed.
We must go back six hundred years for the earliest European mention of
Japan. In 1298, Marco Polo, at the end of his long wanderings in eastern
countries, found himself a prisoner at Genoa. The enforced leisure
brought him the happy thought that he would put in writing an account
of his experiences. Of Japan he says, ‘Zipangu is an island towards the
East,’ and adds, ‘The inhabitants are civilized and well-favoured.’
But Europe had not yet awakened to the glorious career of conquest and
commerce which fate had in store for her. Two and a half centuries later
the Portuguese explorer, Fernao Mendez Pinto, while cruising in Eastern
waters bound for Macao, was driven by storm on to the Japanese coast
near Nagasaki. The people with whom he came in contact were friendly and
willing to barter for such things as he had for disposal. Tidings of the
place and the people and of the favourable reception accorded him were
not long in reaching the Portuguese at Goa and the Spaniards at Manila,
and vessels laden with merchandise were speedily on their way to the new
and promising mart of commerce.
With the Spanish expedition of 1549 came the good and pious Jesuit,
Francis Xavier, full of zeal, bent upon the conversion of the natives to
the true faith. On their arrival at the port of Bungo they were received
with open arms by a people who seemed to know no guile. So favourably
was the good missionary impressed that he exclaims in the narrative
of his sojourn among them,[4] ‘I have never found a nation among the
infidels which has pleased me so much. They are men endowed with the
best of dispositions, of excellent conduct, free from malice and gall.
I know not when to have done when I speak of them. They are truly the
delight of my heart.’ And there is abundant evidence, speaking of the
deep impression the saintly Xavier and his colleagues made upon the
receptive minds of the gentle Japanese. For these good men had come
to them well provided with medicines, and were not unskilled in the
treatment of disease. Their untiring labours among the sick and needy,
their sympathy with the poor and destitute won all hearts, and gratitude
spread their praises throughout the land. The wise Shogun, Iyeyasu, was
not unobservant or unmindful of his people’s interests. Fully alive to
the good work the strangers were doing he granted them permission to go
where they pleased throughout his dominions. To the merchants also he
granted similar privileges, allowing them to carry on unrestricted trade
with the inhabitants. From the first the merchants had done well. As they
unfolded package after package of their wares for inspection wonder waxed
into childish delight, and the shredded leaves of the tobacco-plant which
the sailors smoked in pipes was to these primitive people a revelation.
Fancy pictures the little people taking to the new indulgence with an
amused twinkle in the eye like youngsters just come into possession of
a new toy. And here we come upon evidence, full and convincing, that
before the arrival of the Portuguese and Spaniards tobacco was unknown
in Japan. Testimony to the foreign origin of the plant is borne by the
people themselves, who knew no name for it and readily adopted the West
Indian word ‘tabaco.’ It is remarkable that this Carib name, with slight
variations in the spelling, should have spread to every country.
The story of Europe’s early intercourse with Japan in regard to the
conduct of both the Spaniards and Portuguese contains much that is
painful and humiliating. For a few years the priests in the propagation
of the gospel, and the merchants in their trade, prospered equally well.
By-and-by it became too glaringly apparent for even the simplest of
the natives to mistake that they were being deceived and robbed by the
strangers. The first serious mischief began in 1597. Xavier had left
Japan for China, and his just and accomplished coadjutors had been
succeeded by a host of Franciscans, Dominicans, Augustine and other
friars who had flocked in from Goa, Malacca, Macao and other Portuguese
settlements, all of whom commenced their career by setting the Japanese
laws and usages at defiance. Speaking of the foreign traders, an old
writer declares that they were by dishonest means rapidly draining away
the golden marrow of Japan. And the progress made in proselytising is
shown in the fact that within a few years of their arrival there were
in Nagasaki alone no fewer than twelve parish churches and several
monasteries, presided over by a bishop. Merited retribution, stern and
swift, came in 1616 with the accession to the Shogunate of Hidetada, and
eventually ended in 1637 in the total expulsion of the Portuguese and
Spaniards from Japan. It is noteworthy that the Dutch residents sided
with the Japanese and gave of their best and bravest during the prolonged
sanguinary conflict.
A gleam of brighter vision breaks upon the scene when we touch upon
the period which brought the first Englishman to Japan. The story of
the Elizabethan mariner, William Adams, in relation to the place and
the people, does something to redeem Europe’s ill fame in that faraway
land. He was a Kentish man, who, in his youth, had been apprenticed to
a shipbuilder at Limehouse. At the end of the term he entered the Royal
Navy as navigating officer. We next find him in his thirty-second year
(1598) seized with an overmastering passion for foreign adventure. In the
capacity of pilot-major he joined a Dutch merchant fleet of five vessels
bound for the East Indies. Their course lay by way of Cape Horn, in
rounding which stormy seas scattered the ships. Two were lost, two found
their way back to Holland, the remaining one called the _Charity_ alone
reached the far East. This latter was commanded by Adams. Tempest-tossed
and worn-out, he, with his crew of twenty-four men were cast ashore on
the Japanese island of Kiushiu, after a voyage which had lasted two
years. He landed on Japanese soil on the 19th of April 1600, and in such
a plight that out of a crew of twenty-four Adams, in one of his letters
home, says, ‘There were no more than six besides myself that could stand
upon their feet.’ They were taken to Osaka in order to give an account
of themselves to the great Shogun, Iyeyasu. Adams speaks of the house
in which the potentate dwelt as wonderful and costly, and gilded with
gold in abundance. Called upon to declare his nationality and business
he produced his charts and explained through an interpreter (doubtless
a Portuguese), whence he had come, adding, ‘We are a people that seek
friendship with all nations.’ The Portuguese, jealous of their interests
in the island, represented the English and the Dutch as pirates living by
plunder on the high seas, having no country of their own. At the close of
the examination Adams was placed under arrest and detained thirty-nine
days. He says that he was well treated. Something in his manner gained
upon the Shogun; he gradually rose in favour, notwithstanding the efforts
of his enemies to damage him and his country. Their motives were seen
through; the sagacious Iyeyasu in a moment of exasperation declared
that, ‘if devils from hell visited his country they should be treated
like angels from heaven so long as they behaved like gentlemen.’ The
Shogun was not slow in forming a just estimate of Adams. Indeed, his
manly bearing and simple straightforwardness gained him friends among
high and low. We next hear of him at Court teaching Iyeyasu the craft of
shipbuilding, the outcome of which was the construction of two ships on
the European model. Adams says, ‘Now being in such grace by reason, I
learned him some points of geometry and the understanding of the art of
mathematics, with other things. I pleased him so much that what I said
he would not contrary.’ It is pleasant to read of this manly Elizabethan
sailor coming into honours and wealth in this far-off country by sheer
native honesty of purpose and scholastic attainments. His royal master
raised him to the rank of Samurai, and bestowed upon him an estate at
Phebe, near Yokosuka. Richard Cocks, a merchant adventurer and member of
the East India Company, describes the place, and says that it consisted
of ‘above one hundred farms or households, besides others under them,
all of which are his vassals; and he hath power over them, they being
his slaves; and he hath absolute power over them as any tono or King in
Japan hath over his vassals.’ Needless to say that the feudal system was
then in full force in Japan. To the end of his life Adams maintained
the character which had earned him this responsible position. Let us
hope that three centuries after Iyeyasu the Great the Japanese discern
in our people something of the same steadfastness that in those early
days won their good-will. William Adams stood thus in favour when in
1609 two armed Dutch ships put into the harbour of Denzin. The commander
sought out Adams, and, reminding him of his former connection with the
Dutch merchant service, claimed his good offices for the advancement
of Holland’s commercial interests with Japan. No more was desired
than a footing for trade such as had been granted to the Portuguese.
So reasonable a request appealed to the fair-minded Englishman, and
he readily gave his word to do what he could for them. Again the
Portuguese interfered and denounced the Dutch as heretics and outlaws
from Christendom, and altogether untrustworthy. This calumny, however,
had no effect. Adams succeeded in obtaining the desired privilege. But
the distrust of all Europeans, created by the artifice and unscrupulous
dealings of the Portuguese, led the Shogun to restrict the Dutch to the
port at which they had landed. They, however, established a factory at
Firando. Mr. W. E. Griffis in his admirable history of Japan, commenting
upon the influence of the Dutch in that country, says, ‘After a hundred
years of Christianity and foreign intercourse the only apparent results
of this contact with another religion and civilization were the adoption
of gunpowder and firearms as weapons, and the use of tobacco and the
habit of smoking.’
To round off the story of our countryman in Japan, it may be well to
tell of the great yearning that came over him to return home to the wife
and two children he had left at Limehouse. The Shogun, however, was loth
to part with him, and his appeals for leave to do so, made, he says,
‘according to nature and conscience,’ were put off from time to time.
When at last permission was granted, circumstances had arisen which
prevented acceptance. Adams, however, was not unmindful of the interests
of his native country. His desire to get into communication with England
is shown in a letter which he addressed as follows:
‘To my unknown friends and countrymen, desiring this letter by your good
means, or news, or copy of this, may come into the hands of one or more
of my acquaintances in Limehouse, or elsewhere, or in Kent, in Gillingham
by Rochester.’ His description of Japanese character might have been
written to-day, so well does it accord with our present knowledge of the
inhabitants of the Great Britain of the East. Adams says, ‘The people of
this Island of Japan are of good nature, courteous above measure, and
valiant in war; their justice is severely executed without any partiality
upon transgressors of the law. They are governed in great civility:
I mean not a land better governed in the world by civil policy.’ In
October, 1611, he addressed a letter to ‘The Worshipful Company of London
Merchants,’ urging them to send merchandise to the ports of Japan. In the
simple words of a sailor he tells them that he is a ‘Kentish man, born
in a town called Gillingham, two English miles from Rochester and one
mile from Chatham, where the Queen’s ships do lie.’ Before the letter
reached them they had heard through the Dutch of Adams and his position
in Japan, and had sent him letters, advising him of their intention to
despatch goods to Japan. In April, 1612, three English vessels laden with
merchandise, and commanded by Captain John Saris, sailed from the London
Docks for the far East. They arrived at Bantam (Java) in October of the
same year. How little time was reckoned with in those days is shown in
the circumstance that Saris thought well to remain at Bantam until the
beginning of the following year, knowing all the while that he bore a
letter from King James to the Emperor of Japan. He sailed in the _Clove_
with a crew of seventy, and sighting the coast near Nagasaki, he, two
days later, anchored in the haven of Firando. Here Adams met him and
arranged for a visit to the Shogun, who was then at Sumpu. Thither they
repaired, accompanied by a Japanese interpreter and two followers. They
carried with them presents to the value of 720 dollars for Iyeyasu and
the State officers. They started on their journey on the 7th of August,
and arrived at their destination on the 6th of September. On the 8th
they had an audience of the Shogun, to whom they delivered the English
King’s letter for the Emperor. They were graciously received, and Iyeyasu
in return sent to King James five screens and a letter for His Majesty,
conveying a free licence to English subjects to enter any of the ports of
Japan for trade purposes. Thus was established in the year 1613 the first
treaty of commerce between England and Japan.
In the midst of all these things our hero had met with a fair damsel in
Japan with whom he mated, and who bore him a son and a daughter—Joseph
and Susanna. And, to complete the romance, we are told that there are
to-day Japanese who pride themselves on being able to trace their descent
from this Elizabethan mariner whom the greatest of their Shoguns loved to
honour.[5]
In Japan, however, as in other countries into which the Indian weed had
been introduced, it was not allowed to take root and flourish unopposed.
Protests, strong and loud, were got up by the old-fashioned folk against
the new-fangled indulgence from the ‘Nanban’—country of the southern
barbarians. So strenuously did they proclaim it to be the ‘fool’s plant,’
the ‘poverty weed,’ the ‘barbarian’s herb,’ that at last they won over
the Shogun to their side. In 1612 he issued an edict forbidding his
subjects to either use tobacco or to plant seeds of it. It is curious to
notice how, in this remote region, the witchery of the weed set good men
and true warring over its virtues or vices on exactly the same lines as
were being fought over at the same time in England, and in each case with
a precisely similar result. Like the historic _Counterblaste_ of our
British Solomon and the fulminations of two popes, their efforts to put
out the pipe were unavailing. Indeed, as usually happens in conflicts of
the kind, opposition begat opposition, till at last the will of the many
triumphed over the prejudice and power of the few. The people had tasted
the forbidden leaf and liked it so well that each offered to share with
his neighbour the pleasure and, if need be, the punishment attached to
the indulgence. So in course of time the edict died a natural death, and
was decently buried under a mild ceremonial wherein the Shogun enjoined
his loving subjects to be careful and not let themselves be seen smoking
outside their houses. Rein, in his _Industries of Japan_, says of this
edict, ‘of all the laws of the Tokugawa rule probably none has proved
so ineffectual as the edict of 1612 against the smoking and planting of
tobacco.’
The earliest native record of tobacco is found in an old family chronicle
of an eminent physician named Saka, of Nagasaki; it is dated 1605, and
runs as follows: ‘In this year tobacco was brought in ships of the
Nanban people, and was shown near Nagasaki; it was known in Bungo (the
Portuguese settlement) from the beginning and in Sasuma’—a district noted
to this day for the superior quality of its tobacco. A further note on
the subject occurs two years later, 1607, and is to the effect that, ‘of
late a thing has come into fashion called tabako; it is said to have
originated out of the Nanban, and consists of large leaves which are cut
up, and of which one drinks the smoke.’ In the same record incidental
allusion is made to the supposed medicinal properties of the Indian
weed, a notion derived from the natives of America and propagated in
Europe with much insistence by Jean Nicot. The writer is never weary of
chronicling the fact that, ‘a thing has been coming out of the Nanban
called tabako, with which all classes of Japanese regale themselves. It
is said to be a cure for all diseases; but, notwithstanding this, some
people have got sick through drinking the smoke. Now, since no medical
work contains directions for the treatment of such patients, no medicine
for their relief could be offered them.’
The distinguished writer, Kaibard, protested loudly against the barbarian
novelty; he compares it with tea and with saké—a beer made from rice—and
roundly condemns tobacco-smoking, saying, that far from yielding benefit
to anyone it injures the consumer in many ways. It is not worth while,
he considers, to chide the common people for smoking, but he expresses
surprise and indignation that gentlemen and superior persons should
take pleasure in a custom imported from over the seas and taught them
by strangers. On the other hand, a learned treatise called ‘Ensauki,’
translated by Sir Ernest Satow, enumerates some of the excellences
discovered in the weed. These are:
(1) It dispels the vapours and increases the energies.
(2) It is good to produce at the beginning of a feast.
(3) It is a companion in solitude.
(4) It affords an excuse for resting now and then from work, as if in
order to take breath.
(5) It is a storehouse of reflection, and gives time for the fumes of
wrath to disperse.
But on the other hand are objections to its use such as the following:
(1) There is a natural tendency to hit people over the head with one’s
pipe in a fit of anger.
(2) The pipe comes sometimes to be used for arranging the burning
charcoal in the hibacki.
(3) An inveterate smoker has been known to walk among the dishes at a
feast with the pipe in his mouth [the dishes resting on mats ranged along
the floor].
(4) People knock the ashes out of their pipes while still alight and
forget to extinguish the fire; hence clothing and mats are frequently
scorched by burning ash.
(5) Smokers spit indiscriminately in the hibacki, foot warmers, or
kitchen fire; also, in the crevices between the tatami which covers the
floor.
(6) They rap the pipe violently on the edge of the fire-pot.
(7) They forget to have the ash-pot emptied till it is full to
overflowing.
It is easy to see how pointed admonitions such as these, thrown broadcast
upon Japanese smokers, would yield a handsome crop of good manners.
The Japanese are, and have always ranked among, the foremost of polite
people—a grace natural to their fine sensibility. Rather than hit his
friend over the head with his pipe in a fit of temper, the valiant
Japanese will put his fingers into the burning hi-ire in order to change
the venue of his annoyance. A trait of their child-like character comes
well into view in a story told of one, Oka, a famous judge, whose book of
anecdotes and wise decisions Sir Ernest Satow has rendered into English.
The work is entitled _Oka Inseidan_, and the story is of,
‘THE THEFT OF THE GOLDEN PIPE.’
Once upon a time a wealthy man was the happy owner of a rich and rare
kiseru (tobacco pipe) made of silver, inlaid with gold and precious
stones. It happened on one occasion, after calling to his servants to
bring him the tobacco-bon that he might indulge in a breath of fragrance
from his treasured kiseru, that he was told the pipe was gone, and no
one knew whither. Search was made for it high and low, in likely and
unlikely places, but all in vain. Then did they remember their renowned
Oka, the wise. They appealed to him for counsel, and made him acquainted
with the cause of their grief. He, shrewd man, questioned the household,
and on learning that a poor fellow living in the neighbourhood had been
seen smoking a pipe of great value he found out the truth respecting
it in the following ingenious manner. But here, in order to better
understand the story, it will be well to explain the Japanese method of
smoking. It is the custom of each smoker to roll the tobacco between his
fingers into a ball of the exact size required to fit the bowl of the
pipe, so that when turning the pipe sideways to light it at the live
charcoal it should not fall out; after every two or three whiffs a fresh
ball is introduced. The smoker will thus occupy himself by the hour
listlessly making fresh ones while he smokes, utterly oblivious it may
be to what he is doing, but from constant practice his nimble fingers
with automatic precision invariably makes the tiny ball of the size
needed to fix it securely in the bowl. And now, let us hearken to the
words of Oka, and learn of the sage how he recovered the lost pipe and
brought the culprit to justice. ‘Unseen by the suspected one, I found out
a way of watching him while seated on his mat idly toying with a pipe.
Snugly hidden behind a paper screen I made slits in it for my eyes, for
thought I, if the pipe be not his own he will make up tobacco balls too
large or too small to fit the bowl, then shall I know the truth. Thus
ensconced, peering through the holes I had made for my eyes, I beheld in
the man’s hands a pipe of surpassing beauty. I saw that he took from his
tobacco-pouch some shreds of the weed and rolled them up, and in blissful
ignorance of other eyes than his own to see and admire his chased kiseru
he caressingly handled it, and fed it with the pabulum of peace. But when
he bent forward to the brazier and turned the bowl on one side to catch a
light from the live coal the little ball of tobacco fell out—it was too
small for the bowl! Again and again this same thing happened.’ Then did
Oka reveal himself to the already convicted felon and charge him with
the theft, saying, ‘Had the pipe been thine own, O son of infamy, long
and constant usage would have taught thy fingers to make up the tobacco
balls of the size needed to fit the bowl.’ This process of reasoning was
conclusive. The culprit was taken before the tribunal of justice and
punished according to the enormity of his offence. That no shadow of
unworthy doubt may rest upon the seat of wisdom, the veracious chronicler
adds, that when the unhappy man was formally charged with the crime, he,
with deep humility confessed his guilt; whereupon the judge restored to
the rightful owner the lost golden pipe, and the fame of Oka, the wise
spread throughout the land.
[Illustration: A JAPANESE PIPE.]
To-day the smoking of tobacco in Japan is universal; so completely has
the practice entered into the daily habits of Japanese life that high
and low, rich and poor—and of both sexes—have come to look upon the
introduction of the tabako-bon—containing all their curious smoking
apparatus—on the occasion of the arrival of a visitor, as a social
function which could not be neglected without giving offence. Even in
the poorest man’s house the tobacco tray, with its fire-pot and ash-pot,
is an essential part of the furniture. Visit the humblest abode and
there will be placed before you all the tiny equipment for a smoke; but
their weed is almost tasteless; certainly, it can do nobody any harm.
Formerly the tiny cup of tea was always the prelude to social gossip;
now, however, for some reason or other the pipe takes precedence of the
cup. Surely a wise choice, for in the pipe he had found a soother of the
ruffled frame, calming the unruly member which the tea-cup sets free to
dilate with eloquence on the virtues—or their opposite—of the dear absent
ones; helping the fair devotee to unbosom herself of old confidences too
heavy to be longer borne, and to form new and undying friendships—till
the next tea meeting. Assuredly, wherever Eve’s daughters congregate
there will the tea-pot—the genius of quickened sensibilities—be the
favourite fetish.
[Illustration: QUEEN ELIZABETH.]
Let us take a peep at a reception, an ‘At Home,’ where a dark-eyed
daughter of Japan reposes luxuriantly on a carpet of many colours. By her
side is an arm-rest, and a gorgeous screen adorned with wondrous figures
in prismatic hues protects her from obtrusive view. Two English ladies
are her visitors; they are ushered through a long corridor, covered with
thick matting of a fine texture, into the reception hall. Passing into
a large well-proportioned room, they are agreeably surprised with the
simplicity and tasteful character of the furniture, which consists of
a row of small lacquer tables and chairs, placed at intervals of a few
yards; by the side of each chair is a large bronze urn of ornamental
design, filled with symmetrically shaped pieces of glowing charcoal.
Raising the eyes to the walls they see that these are covered with a
heavy yet delicate paper artistically painted with birds and flowers; and
the wainscoting, panels and window-frames, are of a highly polished black
lacquer. Over all there seems to hang a drowsy luxurious atmosphere,
quite in keeping with the old-world ease and courtly manners of their
truly polite hostess. Meanwhile female servants have noiselessly placed
before them the tabako-bon, upon which rests a gold-dotted lacquered
case, delicately made of leather-paper; it is about eighteen inches long,
and twelve broad, and stands the height of three fingers. On the removal
of the lid the first things which strike the eye are three chased little
tobacco-pipes, each enclosed in a silk lined case, which in form so
nearly resembles the _calausilia_ that it is called the kiseru-gai—pipe
snail. The bowl of the pipe is a fairy-like thing of the size and shape
of an acorn-cup, and is of finely wrought silver; the stem, about
six inches long, is of thin lacquered bamboo, and the mouthpiece is
of brightly polished metal. The pouch holding the tobacco is also of
stamped leather, and is finely decorated with lacquer and silver work.
But the tobacco is something wonderful; though an exotic of the genus
_nicotina-tobacum_ of America, it has cast off its native characteristics
and become a light-coloured delicate weed, which lissome fingers have cut
into flossy shreds as fine as gossamer and as soft as cocoon silk. As
the usages of polite society in Japan require that the visitors should
smoke while chatting, the hostess taking a few shreds of the weed between
her fingers and rolling them up into pellets to fit the tiny bowls urges
her guests to join in the grateful pastime. One of the ladies, however,
declines the proffered pipe, saying, ‘Arigato, tabako-o nomimasen,’
(thank you, I don’t drink tobacco) at which the hostess with wondering
eyes asks if she is under a vow! She thinks that ladies everywhere
smoke; that to do so is a binding rule of the unwritten law of social
intercourse. But on the other guest accepting a pipe, saying, ‘tabako-o
nomimas,’ (I drink tobacco) the charming hostess nods and laughs, and
with her own delicate fingers tries her best to light the pipe with an
English match, and only after repeated attempts can she accomplish the
difficult feat. While thus occupied a sprightly, intelligent, little
gentleman enters, and is introduced as the husband of the hostess. He
is brimful of Western ideas, and readily joins his wife in ceaseless
questions concerning England and the English; more particularly he seeks
information about the habits, manners and government of the country; for
he is most anxious to learn whether what he has just heard in the city is
really true, namely: that in England no gentleman is allowed to smoke in
the presence of a lady without first obtaining her permission. He cannot
credit it, but he explains that the question is greatly perturbing men’s
minds in Japan. It is feared that if this Western custom should spread
and take root amongst them, men’s authority over women would be gone;
certainly their pre-eminence would be seriously imperilled. The visitors
try to reassure him. They tell him that as a rule gentlemen do pay this
deference to ladies out of considerations of delicacy, as behoves men
towards women, as well as from a chivalric regard for ladies generally.
But this was a line of argument he seemed unable to follow; he was
dominated with the idea that the custom if adopted in Japan would be the
thin end of the wedge which ultimately would sever men from their proper
control over their wives and women-folk generally. With a countenance
expressive of perplexity and dismay he foretold of endless domestic
storms issuing from the fuming pipe. It was not without amusement that
the English ladies witnessed this curious reflex of a Western spectre
which a few idle people have raised for their diversion, and it required
some effort to suppress their feelings. They did their best, however, to
smother the emotion; but the spectacle presented to their imagination of
wives boxing their husbands’ ears for daring to smoke in their presence
without leave, and all the varied scenes of the battle of the pipes
fought over the domestic hearth, was too much for them. Warming to the
subject the bellicose little gentleman exclaimed, ‘The enemy outside our
gates we can grapple with and overthrow, but a Western idea, and a fickle
one like this, who can seize and vanquish? I have myself but recently
suffered through this innovation, but it shall be the last time.’ And he
so far forgot his native politeness as to declare that he would smoke
when and where he pleased, and if the ladies did not like it they might
leave the room. He added, ‘I do so in virtue of my right as a man. The
assumed right of the women in Europe to determine whether a man may
smoke or not is an unwarrantable licence, and is all put on in order to
bring men under their authority in other and more important affairs; in
any case, it subtracts from the power of men, and there can surely be
no reason in this, as it involves limitations to their authority which
must inevitably provoke confusion and conflict. I can find no reason for
making distinctions—for smoking before men and not before women when it
is not a thing forbidden by law or morals.’ The ladies endeavoured to
soothe the ruffled feelings of their irate host; they assured him that
nothing is farther from the thoughts of intelligent gentlewomen than
the folly of trying to subvert the order of nature; that the deference
paid to ladies in such matters by their kinsmen is the outcome of good
breeding, and it is always appreciated in that sense. ‘There are a few
women, perhaps, who having much time and little to do make it their hobby
to cry out for the unattainable, and whom the gods may some day punish by
giving them what they crave for; but these women are of no account in
the general estimate of the sum of Western domestic life; their voices
are loud, but their judgment is weak. On the other hand, there are in
Europe ladies of the highest rank who, out of pure love of doing good,
devote the best part of their lives and fortunes to the noble purpose of
relieving the needs of the destitute, and raising the lowly and suffering
into better estate. Little room then for wonder that Englishmen are
proud to do them honour.’ Though appeased in some measure, he was not
wholly convinced that danger was not somewhere lurking in their alluring
argument. Let it be noted, however, that young Japan is outgrowing such
apprehensions; he is no longer restive under the restraints imposed upon
his primitive habits, and his conception of the relationship of the
sexes is in accord with European ideas. Western ideas, indeed, are his
ideas; and, he shows how fully he recognises the superiority of European
civilization, by equipping himself with all the most destructive engines
of warfare.
Like the workmen of the busy cities, the Japanese peasant carries with
him wherever he goes his pipe and tobacco-pouch slung to his obi,
a bright-coloured girdle, made usually of a peculiar kind of silk
interwoven with flowers. They hang behind, suspended from a silken cord
fastened to the obi by means of a netzuke—a sort of carved button made of
cornelian or agate. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, their peculiar
smoking apparatus does not lend itself readily to indulgence while at
work or when walking. To enjoy the solace of the weed, the smoker must
squat on the ground and array his smoking utensils in order; but this
little drawback seldom hinders him. When the desire for the pipe comes
upon him it must be appeased; and is it not written in the learned
_Ensauki_ that the pipe ‘affords an excuse for resting now and then from
work, as if to take breath?’ Certainly, the intelligent Japanese never
suffers an opportunity to pass unimproved by rest and reflection over
the vapour of his beloved pipe as it ascends on high, mingling with the
pure breath of heaven; while possibly the lingering ashes suggest to his
contemplative mind the mutability of all things earthly—for who can price
for another the thing which his soul valueth?
Passing along the unbeaten tracks of Japan the wayfarer from the West
occasionally comes upon picturesque scenes of peasant life of a character
which combines primitive simplicity of manners with something of the
art and refinement of what we are accustomed to associate with advanced
civilization, but which with them springs from a gentle, susceptible
nature, always kindly, but quick to resent affront. Turning into a
roadside inn he may meet with a party of well-to-do peasants on their
homeward way from the market of a neighbouring town, and observe with
quiet amazement the public exhibition they make over the bath; they are
very fond of bathing, but in their manner of using the tub they have
views peculiar to themselves. Fish and rice are in large demand, and of
these, with a plentiful supply of vegetables, they make a hearty meal.
After dinner tiny cups of tea are served to each guest by dark-eyed
damsels whose appearance recalls to memory the nursery pictures of our
childhood representing our first parents in the garden of Eden. When the
candles are brought in smoking and story-telling follow till bed-time.
Then, spreading blankets on the floor, and with a block of wood hollowed
to fit the head for a pillow, they are soon on their way to the land of
Nod, announcing their arrival in a fine symphony of cracked bassoons.
As everybody smokes in Japan the rate of consumption per head of the
population is considerably greater than with us. And shops for the sale
of tobacco and all its accessories are to be seen in every street in the
big towns, and in every village which has shops at all; even along the
country roads there are stands where all these things can be had for
the merest trifle. On the sign the tobacconist exhibits to denote his
vocation is painted a leaf of the plant, and by the side there are two
hieroglyphics which are understood to intimate that he keeps only the
best tobacco, procured from the famous kokubu in the Osumi district. The
name bears a significance similar to that of Virginia with us. But the
taste of the weed grown in this favoured district is not such as commends
itself to English smokers; it is too sweet, and on this account is but
little exported to Europe. It is used here for mixing with other kinds of
a more pungent character: French tobacco would be all the better for the
admixture. But to do this in France, where the cultivation, manufacture
and sale of tobacco is a Government monopoly, would perhaps interfere
with the public revenue.
The Japanese method of raising crops of tobacco, of curing and
manufacture, is in all essentials similar to that of other countries
where tobacco-culture is a staple industry. The seed-beds of the
young plants are protected against too great cooling from radiation
on spring nights by straw roofs about a metre high. Towards the end
of April, in the warmer districts, the shoots are strong enough to
be transplanted into the open fields, where they are placed in rows
usually along the sides of crops of barley which by this time has
passed its bloom. In cooler districts this operation is delayed until
June. But, as tobacco-culture is widely spread throughout the islands,
the seasons for planting and reaping necessarily differ according to
the varying temperatures of this plutonic region of sulphurous springs
and earthquakes. Besides the pleasure of smoking, the Japanese, like
ourselves, have found many uses for tobacco. For destroying insects on
plants, nothing is so effectual as dosing them with a liberal decoction
of the juice. Like all other orientals the Japanese have to wage
perpetual warfare with those plagues of the flesh that invade every
house. In order to check their ravages, he places leaves of the plant in
crevices where they usually hide in ambush against the hour for making
their nocturnal attack. Mosquitoes, too, are numerous, hungry, and of
good size, but in the magic breath of the weed he has found a potent
spell which soon overcomes the enemy and lays him low. All he finds it
needful to do, is simply to seat himself on his mat in his toy-like
house and enjoy the double pleasure of knowing that he is vanquishing
the foe while puffing his wee pipe and twirling up pellets to fit
the thimble-like bowl. He has discovered, too, that Saint Nicotine
is a dispenser of other inestimable blessings. As a healer of many
maladies—cutaneous affections, some forms of eye disease, and other like
disturbers of a tranquil life—he believes in her implicitly, and lotions
made of the juice extracted from the leaves of the plant are in almost
daily use among the poorer classes.
Young Japan having entered with a light heart and buoyant into the
stream of European life no longer cares for the old ways of his fathers,
and finds his chosen smoke in the new paper cigarette fashioned in the
Western world. Of these he partakes so liberally that many millions
are imported every year, the total value of which, according to the
Consular Report, comes to about £40,000. To such proportions has the
tobacco industry grown that in Osaka (the Manchester of Japan) no fewer
than forty factories provide remunerative employment for thousands of
work-people—chiefly women and girls. In 1895 Japan exported close upon
three million pounds weight of tobacco, the estimated value of which was
£23,466. Under the influence of an overmastering passion to mould their
institutions on the model of those of Europe, the Government have thought
well to lay hands upon the tobacco industry; henceforward it is to be a
Government monopoly. Referring to the _Japanese Budget_ of 1897-8, Sir
Ernest Satow, in the Diplomatic and Consular Report on Trade and Finance
for the fiscal year 1897-8, discusses the question. The Bill was passed
in the session of 1896, and the monopoly is to come into force at the
beginning of 1898. The principle of the scheme is, that tobacco grown
in Japan shall be delivered in the leaf to the Government at a fixed
rate. The Government will then sell it to the manufacturers at rates
which will ensure substantial relief to the depleted exchequer, to the
extent, possibly, after all expenses of collection, etc. are met, of
about half a million sterling. The annual yield of the tobacco fields
of Japan is estimated at 90,000,000 lbs., its market value of £90,000,
and the gross revenue therefrom at £1,000,000. Here Sir Ernest Satow’s
incisive criticism comes into play. He shows that to realize this sum a
tax of over 100 per cent. must be levied, and that this would bring up
the price to the consumer to double what it is now. He points out that
tobacco leaf can be imported into Japan at 10c. per lb., add to this
the import duty, namely 35 per cent., and the result will be that the
Government will try to sell its tobacco at 21⅑c. and this, too, in face
of the fact that imported tobacco can be sold for 13.5c. per lb. There
is a further important consideration telling against the Government
scheme, namely: that as the tobacco intended for exportation does not
come under the monopoly the producer can send his unmanufactured leaf out
of the country, have it prepared for use and brought in again ready for
the retail dealer, and still compete successfully with the Government.
Sir Ernest adds that, ‘Were the simple system adopted, in operation in
England, of warehousing, it is estimated that with the same tax a revenue
of at least £1,000,000 could be obtained.’ The monopoly scheme was
severely criticised in the Senate, and it was thought that it would be
amended, but up to the date of Sir Ernest’s report nothing had been done
in this direction.
The marvellous transformation which has taken place in Japan within the
last thirty-five years has hardly left a vestige behind of the old order
of things which so charmed the eyes of the stranger from the West. Even
in the remote villages the peasantry, as if ashamed to be themselves, are
entering upon new paths and disguising their primitive habits of social
life under the garb of Western modes and manners. The graceful native
costume is supplanted by the distortions of dress which the caprice of
art sends forth from Paris as if to render humanity ridiculous. It is not
a pleasing sight to look upon Japanese ladies enduring torture in their
efforts to accommodate themselves to Western fashion and finery. And the
men, skewered up in sombre broad-cloth, lose the ease and dignity which
by nature’s gift is theirs. Would it not be well, while gathering the
fruits of old European culture, for this Eastern people to preserve their
native habits, works and ways, all those things which are the natural
product of their race and climate? Of course, in commerce, the observance
of the eternal verities, as Carlyle would say, forms the basis of all
healthy and lasting good.
There is, however, one cheerful sign in the present-day habits of this
most interesting people: through all the toils and vicissitudes of their
new and exalted path in life they resolutely keep the pipe aglow, mindful
of the wise words of the _Ensauki_ that in the vapour of the fragrant
weed is a storehouse of reflection where the fumes of anger are suffered
to disperse.