XII

_The California Confession of Faith_

Since landing in New York the Herr Director and the Frau Directorin had

endured many a formal reception; she with angelic patience, and he with

the usual masculine aversion to formal social amenities.

When I announced that a reception was to be tendered us in San

Francisco, he cried with uplifted hands, "_Um Gottes Willen!_" He did

not object to really meeting people; but to stand in line an hour or two

shaking hundreds of outstretched hands, not knowing nor caring much to

whom they belonged, seemed to him a profitless exercise; while our

wafers and tea, or our punch--without those ingredients which give the

"punch" to punch--were gastronomic delusions to one accustomed to the

abundant meat and drink attendant upon social occasions in Germany.

This particular reception was to be given us by the Chinese, and a

committee of stately, solemn looking gentlemen called for us in

carriages; despite the Herr Director's reluctance, I am sure he was

delighted to have this chance of giving his jaded social appetite a new

sensation.

Chinatown, with its gay coloring, its tempting shops, its stolid-looking

men, its quaint women and cunning babies, was made doubly fascinating to

us, entering it officially conducted and riding in state.

I do not know to this day to just what facts or virtues or position in

life we owe the attentions we received; but it was all recorded upon

posters and handbills liberally distributed through Chinatown,

announcing our advent. Recorded upon them in those picturesque

characters with which the Chinese language puzzles its readers, were the

names and eulogies of certain members of our party. The character which

stood for the Herr Director looked like a top, a tree and a barrel,

while his nativity and manifold virtues were made known in other

artistic symbols.

I suspect that the man to blame for it all was a certain young American

whose mixed ancestry has created a rare and most effective personality.

He has inherited all the grace of his French ancestors, the tenacity (a

virtue in which he excels) of his Dutch or double Dutch progenitors, and

I am sure he can claim kinship with the first man who "kissed the

Blarney stone." He could pull the latch-string to any foreign colony in

that great conglomerate of peoples, and always be greeted as one of

them. The Young Men's Christian Association, in whose name he served,

could not have had a more worthy exponent of its social creed, and

America could not have projected against these foreigners a better

representative than Charles W. Blanpied.

The reception was held in the Chinese Presbyterian Church, and upon our

arrival we found it crowded by a solemn-looking company of Chinese. We

were conducted to the platform and introduced to his Excellency the

Consul-General, ministers of various denominations, and dignitaries of

Chinatown.

This was the first reception we attended where introductions were not

followed by vigorous hand-shaking. I am inclined to believe that the

softness of the Oriental palm is due to the fact that it is not

vigorously pressed every time two men meet each other.

The Herr Director was in ecstasy over the beautiful Chinese girls in the

choir. Doubtless he would have preferred sitting among them, rather than

where he was, between the Consul-General and the chairman of the

evening.

The reception opened with prayer, as if it were a church service; then

the choir sang an anthem, followed by four speeches of welcome. The

first by his Excellency the Consul-General lasted an hour and seemed

much longer, because it was in Chinese and unintelligible to us.

I was asked to respond, and, under the circumstances, my remarks were

brief. The clever interpreter made a good deal of them, judging by the

length of time it took him, and the tumultuous applause with which every

sentence was greeted.

The Herr Director told me it was the poorest speech he ever heard; but I

am inclined to believe that he was a little jealous because he was not

asked to speak; or perhaps he was merely trying to keep me humble, a

course which he had consistently pursued from the day I met him in New

York.

The reception closed with the benediction, and the dignitaries and

guests proceeded to a Chinese restaurant which was genuinely Oriental;

not one of those nondescript Chop Suey places which serve such varied

and often objectionable purposes. The entire establishment was reserved

for us. It was gayly decorated with the banners of the Youngest

Republic, an orchestra played vigorously and so unmelodiously that the

Herr Director was reminded of the ultra modern German compositions.

The menu was the most mysterious thing of the evening, ranging from tea

to broiled seaweed, and eggs which looked their age and were not ashamed

of it. There was fowl which was made unrecognizable to both the eye and

the palate, something which tasted like glue flavored with onion, and

something else which to my perverted Occidental palate seemed like

stewed Turkish towels. There were sweetmeats before and after and

between courses. Beside the mystery, the variety and novelty of the

banquet, it had one other virtue; it was not followed by after dinner

speeches, that common American practice which is an assault upon one's

digestion, and, not infrequently, upon good taste.

While there were no after dinner speeches, we had a chance to discuss

the problem of the Chinese in California, and their brave attempts to

become Americanized in thought and feeling, in spite of the unyielding

race prejudice they have had to meet; thus renewing our faith in our

common origin and destiny, regardless of our apparent differences. Never

before had I realized how gentle these Chinese are nor how altogether

likeable, and it was no surprise to find that some of the Californians

have made the same discovery, and are treating them accordingly.

We visited the Immigrant Station at San Francisco and I wished we had

not; for our treatment of the incoming Orientals lacks all those

elements of which I had boasted. We are neither humane, nor fair,

neither wise, nor decent. We found young Chinese women who had been

detained for more than a year, and were left without occupation or

suitable companionship or even a hope of early release. There were

Chinese boys who were herded with hardened, vicious-looking men, and the

station, although ideally situated, was little better than a prison.

What was done or was allowed to be done to make the lot of these people

more bearable was accomplished by outsiders. Conditions may have changed

since that time, and if they have, it is a cause for profound gratitude.

We also had an unusual opportunity to come in touch with the Japanese

all along the coast. In one city we met a young Japanese, a graduate of

my own college. He is now serving his countrymen there as a Buddhist

priest. He has brought to his sacred calling much of the practical

religion which he absorbed through his contact with the college Y. M.

C. A., and it is his ambition to make Buddhism efficient and

serviceable. He has put into the work all his patrimony and is eager to

build up an institution patterned after the Young Men's Christian

Association.

We had many a confidential talk, and if the soul of the Oriental is not

altogether inscrutable I have had a glimpse of it; although I cannot say

that I have fathomed his soul any more than he has mine. He seemed to me

to typify his race in a remarkable degree. His is a strong, unyielding,

definite kind of ethnos, and while we liked each other and tried to

understand one another, there seemed to be a place just before we

reached our Holy of Holies where we stood before a barred gate.

When he told me that the American soul is absolutely unemotional in

comparison with the Japanese, I knew he did not understand us; even as I

did not understand the Japanese when I told him that his people are cold

and unemotional in comparison with us.

He took us to his temple in the basement of a shabby looking American

tenement. He showed us his Sunday-school room, picture cards with Golden

Texts, club and class rooms, and many devices borrowed from us, applied

and perhaps improved upon by his Japanese genius. The day we left the

city he brought us an invitation to luncheon at the home of the most

prominent Japanese merchant in the place. Our hostess was a delightful

woman educated in a Methodist school in her native country, and of

course spoke English. Her husband, a conservative Buddhist, although he

had been in this country for twenty years, was still Japanese to the

core and spoke little or no English. There were several notables

present, whose English was more or less Japanned. They were keen, well

educated, and had absorbed enough of American culture to be baseball

"fans."

During luncheon, which in our honor was served à la Nippon, we discussed

the anti-Japanese legislation which at that time was menacing the

peaceful relationship of the two countries.

All the Japanese agreed that they had no right to demand unrestricted

immigration; but they were urgent that no crass distinction should be

made between them and other races, and that they too should have the

right to obtain citizenship when they had proved themselves fitted for

it.

During this discussion the Frau Directorin and our host were carrying on

a picturesque conversation; that is she did the talking and he smilingly

said "Yes" to everything she said. She felt highly flattered that he

understood her English, which was still about seventy-five per cent.

German, while his was ninety-nine per cent. Japanese.

That night as we were leaving the city a delegation met us at the

station to complete their Oriental hospitality by presenting us with

beautiful and valuable souvenirs.

After such brief and friendly relationships with these people it is easy

to come to very one-sided conclusions about the problem they present to

the people of California. The situation is serious, but not so serious

that, in order to try to meet it, we must cease to be gentlemanly in

our relation to them.

It is the peculiarity of all people who face race problems, to face them

irrationally and to think that in order to maintain racial dignity one

must insult, demean, and humble other races; and the people of the

United States in general, and those of the Pacific Coast in particular,

have not yet learned a better and more rational way.

Strong race prejudice is not necessarily a sign of race superiority, and

the people who constantly proclaim their superiority by humiliating and

persecuting others have a hard time proving it.

If what I was frequently told is true, that California "wants no

immigrants unless they are something between a mule and a man," then I

can understand their animosity towards the Japanese; for they are

altogether human and want to be so treated.

Beside the many racial varieties with which we came in contact on the

Pacific Coast, we found there all the types produced in the United

States, and while neither the Herr Director nor myself was able to

differentiate them by external variation, we discovered them by

different and contending ideals. From that standpoint they were even

more interesting than the Orientals. Every shade of political and

religious opinion, every kind of economic doctrine, every variety of

social standards we found, besides currents and cross currents not

easily discerned or classified. In spite of the difference in race,

class, religion and politics, we found three well defined ideas

expressed, upon which there is such an agreement that they might be

called the California Confession of Faith.

First and foremost is the belief in the climate and the resources of the

state. There is no religious doctrine in existence unless it be the

monotheism of the Jews, which is so dogmatically held as this faith,

that California is unsurpassed in climate, productiveness, in all those

opportunities for a leisurely existence (provided you have worked hard

elsewhere to get the necessary money) as are offered by its mountains

and sea, its luxuriant homes and all other factors which contribute to

the health and happiness of mankind. The only possible rival to

California is Heaven itself, and just because in these unbelieving and

unregenerate days so many people are not sure that there is such a

place, or if there is, are in doubt that they will have a mansion

reserved for them, they are leaving the farms and towns of the more

mundane Middle West and prosperous East to get a taste of Heaven in

California before they go to that "bourne from which no" wanderer has

returned.

The people of California forgive any heresy or unbelief except a doubt,

however faint, about its climate and resources. From the shadow of Mount

Shasta to the deepest depth of the Imperial Valley, whether we were so

cold in summer as to need furs, or were hot enough to melt, or were

choking from dust when we travelled through miles of unredeemed desert,

we found this faith in the climate and resources of California unshaken.

The Herr Director asked why there were so many cemeteries in the midst

of the most crowded streets, and only a nearer look convinced him that

they were "for sale" signs of rival real estate agents, who flourish

equally with the sage-brush and cactus.

The second idea upon which there is a common agreement is, that while

California in particular is perfect as to climate and resources, the

world in general is a dire place, and its wrongs need to be righted.

In spite of the fact that the climate invites to leisure, it has not as

yet tamed the fighting spirit of this fine, manly race, which is never

so happy as when it has something to do and dare. This state has

admitted women to the duties of citizenship, that all may have an equal

share in the fight. The issues at stake are worth battling for, and

nowhere else is the struggle more intense and dramatic. Organized labor

and capital have crippled each other in the desperate conflict, fierce

always, and often brutal. Protestantism, unorganized and frequently

inefficient, faces the Roman Catholic hierarchy, defending, as it

believes, the public schools and democratic government itself:

awakening, purified democracy is in deadly conflict with the demagogue

entrenched by special privilege while the prohibitionists are engaged in

most desperate conflict with the vinous industry of the state.

The third doctrine of the California Confession of Faith is, that here

on the Pacific Coast the white race has been providentially placed to

defend this country against the encroachment of the "Yellow Peril." It

was illuminating though painful to find that race prejudice is as

intense here as in the South, and as unreasoning, and that one is as

helpless against it as against a flood or fire. All one seems to be able

to do is to accept it as a fact, and treat it like a contagious disease.

If there is any danger to the white race at the Pacific Coast, it is not

the presence of the Japanese or Chinese in limited numbers; it is the

attitude of mind which has been created among Americans there, and that

may bring its own vengeance.

It was a great joy to introduce my guests to California, its orange

groves and vineyards, its marvellous cities and palatial homes. It is a

state to glory in; but strange to say I was somewhat depressed when I

left it. The Herr Director said he missed my "brag and bluster."

Everything was beautiful and bountiful, even as the real estate agents

have advertised; yet there were some things I found and some things I

missed which took the "brag and bluster" out of me.

Its pioneer spirit is weakened by the accession of a large, leisure

class, and how or where the next generation will find a grappling place

for vigor of body, mind and spirit, is still a great question. To eat

one's bread by the sweat of some ancestor's brow, to be challenged daily

by the luxury of a limousine rather than by the hardships of the prairie

schooner, to have as the end and aim of one's day the winning of a Polo

match, or the making of a golf score, must ultimately bring about a

decadence of spirit, even though one retains for a while litheness of

body and activity of mind.

The boasted democracy of California is threatened, not only by the

presence of a large leisure class and the necessary serving if not

servant class, but also by a lack of faith in humanity, without which no

democracy is safe and enduring. To California has been transferred all

that unfaith gendered by the advent of the negro, and if there were ever

a chance to revive the institution of slavery, that state might offer

some hope for its revival.

The Californians who fear for the white race because of the presence of

the Oriental, whom that fear has made vain, boastful, ungenerous and

reckless of the feelings of others, need to know that a greater danger

threatens the race--the decay of the democratic spirit, which languishes

and perishes unless it permits to all men free access to the best it

holds, regardless of "race, color, or previous condition of servitude."

Because I had lost my "brag and bluster" and wished to recover them, I

took my guests, who were now homeward bound, to the one place which

might fitly crown their experiences--the Grand Canyon, where one is apt

to forget humanity and its fretting problems.

I must confess that by this time I was quite worn out; for introducing

your country to a stranger is wearing business, especially when you are

dealing with _blasé_ globe-trotters, who have done all the big things,

from the Alps to the Dead Sea, and have had to crowd into a brief month

the best which lies between New York and California. To do this with a

lover's adulation, endeavoring more or less skillfully to hide defects

and make the bright spots brighter still, may well tax one's nerves.

I acted as a sort of shock absorber, for I determined that the journey

should be a joltless one for my guests; but in that I partially failed;

for not only did I receive the shocks myself, I could not keep them from

receiving some.

One of the worst of these jolts I suffered at the Grand Canyon of the

Colorado. I was very sure of the Canyon itself; I knew it would put a

thrill into the Herr Director, and force an expression of it out of

him. I never worried about the Frau Directorin. We reached the Canyon in

that happy mood gendered by a combination of Harvey meals and Pullman

berths, and the sight of the friendly inn at the brink of the big

surprise, and the cheer of the big log fire in the raftered room drew an

involuntary exclamation of pleasure from the Herr Director. He

registered, then asked the clerk for a room fronting the Canyon.

"Yes siree!" said the obliging young man as he attached a number to the

Herr Director's long and illegible signature; "I'll give you a room so

near that you can spit right into it."

Naturally I received the first shock; a minute later it communicated

itself to the Herr Director. It did not reach the Frau Directorin, for

her English fortunately was still limited; she kept on looking at the

bright Navajo rugs, while the clerk smiled at his own smartness. The

Herr Director commanded to have his bags taken to his room, and turning

from the desk said: "Young man, I am a German, and I want you to

understand that we do not spit in God's face."

The next morning the great Canyon was full of mist, and only faint

outlines of its titanic architecture were visible. As we stood at the

edge of the wondrous chasm, watching the last cloud being driven from

the depths as the moisture was absorbed by the dry, desert air, the Frau

Directorin was shaken by emotion as she gasped at intervals: "_Um Gottes

Himmels Willen!_" The Herr Director, his feelings better controlled,

said nothing; but after a long silence, muttered under his breath: "I

should like to throw that clerk down this abyss as a penalty for his

desecrating thought."

Every few minutes I heard him saying, as he shook his head: "Just think

of it! Just think of it!"

I did not disturb him or ask him what he thought of it for I knew he

could not tell, nor can any one. I think he felt as I felt, that all the

cities he had seen were as nothing compared with this wonder of nature;

that all the pillared post-offices and libraries which our cunning

hands have scattered over this broad land are trifling toys compared

with this templed miracle; that all our dreams of what we might paint or

fashion or carve, or build, are child's play compared with this, and

that we ourselves are mere nothings in the presence of what God hath

wrought here in stone and clay, in color and form.

Never before had I so wished that I could rearrange the geography of the

United States as when we turned eastward from the Grand Canyon. If I had

the power of Him who shaped this earth I would have put it within a mile

of the Atlantic Ocean and within a stone's throw of the Hoboken dock,

and having shown my guests the Canyon, I would have put them on board

their home-bound steamer, and as they sailed away I would have cried out

with ancient Simeon: "Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace!"