TELEGRAPHS.--The Japanese telegraph {100} system is excellent. It

extends to all towns of any size in the empire, and by cable to all

parts of the world. From the old city of Saga, in which I live, I can

send a cablegram to any point in Europe or America. A telegraph code

on the basis of the Morse code has been made in Japan, which admits of

internal telegrams being transmitted in the native syllabary. In this

respect the Japanese system is unique among Eastern countries. For

instance, in India or China telegrams can be transmitted only in Roman

letters or Arabic figures. By the formation of a vernacular code the

telegraph was brought within the reach of the masses of the people, and

it soon became familiar and popular.

The tariff for messages is perhaps lower than any other in the world.

A message of ten kana, equaling about five English words, together with

name and address of sender and receiver, can be sent to any part of the

empire for eight or nine cents. Telegrams in foreign languages are

sent within the empire for five sen per word, with a minimum charge of

twenty-five sen for five words or a fraction thereof. No charge is

made for delivery within a radius of 2-½ miles of the telegraph office.

There are no private telegraph corporations. The government builds,

owns, and operates the lines just as it does the mails. The postal and

{101} telegraph systems are intimately connected, and the same office

does service for both.

The first telegraph line in Japan was opened in 1869. The venture

proving a success, the following year the line was extended and a

general telegraphic system for the whole country decided upon. The

rapid construction of telegraph lines began in 1872, from which year it

has gone forward uninterruptedly. At present the lines extend to every

corner of the empire. The first lines were surveyed, built, and

operated under foreign experts; but the natives have learned so rapidly

that they have been enabled to do away with all foreign employees. All

of the materials and instruments in use, with the exception of

submarine cables and the most delicate electrical measuring apparatus,

are made in Japan.

MAILS.--The Japanese mail system was modeled after the American in

1871. At first it was limited to postal service between the three

large cities of Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka; but in 1872 it was extended to

the whole country, with the exception of a certain part of the

Hokkaido, which was without roads and almost without population.

To-day there is no village or hamlet in the whole land which does not

enjoy the convenience of a good postal system. The mails are sent with

promptness and despatch, and it requires only a few days to communicate

with any part of the {102} empire. The postal rates are very low.

Postal cards cost one sen and letters two sen--about five eighths and

one and two eighths of a cent, respectively.

All mail is delivered free of charge. Not only is this so in the

cities and larger towns, but in the villages and rural districts as

well. There is no place where the dapper little postman does not go.

Another convenience of the mail system is its excellent parcel-post

department. Very large parcels, containing almost anything, can be

sent for a small charge. Still another praiseworthy feature is that

each office is a savings-bank, where the people can deposit small sums

of money at any time and receive a good rate of interest. This money

can be withdrawn without previous notice. The government has

established these savings-banks in connection with the post-offices to

encourage the people to lay up small sums of money, and they accomplish

their purpose well.

Japan was admitted into the International Postal Union in 1879, with

full management of all her postal affairs. As all her rates are now

based on a silver standard, postage to foreign countries is much

cheaper than from them to Japan. To the United States or to China we

pay five sen (about two and a half cents) per letter; to all other

countries within the Postal Union ten sen per letter.

{103}

LIGHTS.--The system of lighting is an index of the civilization of a

country. In this respect Japan is not yet so far advanced as the

leading countries of the West, yet she is well lighted. In all the

large cities there are good electric plants, and electricity is

extensively used. The streets and many of the best stores and shops

are very well lighted with it. However, electric lights are seldom

found in interior cities of less than 40,000 people. I think

electricity is too costly to come into general use, except in the

centers. Illuminating gas is very little used.

The only oil used in former times was extracted from whales and large

fish, and chiefly from the seed of a certain tree. Since the opening

of the country, kerosene has come into general use, immense quantities

being imported from the United States and from Russia. Oil has been

found in several places in Japan, but as yet has never been developed.

BANKING.--One of the most useful products of the introduction of our

modern civilization is the present system of banking. This system will

compare favorably with those of the West. There are a number of

national banks distributed over all the land, together with many

substantial private banking corporations. All forms of banking

business are transacted, and good interest is given on deposits. The

great {104} popularity of the banks is shown by the fact that to-day in

Tokyo, only eight years after bank-checks have come into use, the

amount annually drawn exceeds $100,000,000.

Having taken this rapid view of Japanese civilization, we are in a

position to judge as to whether or not this is a civilized land; and we

answer that it is. But although modeled after that of the West, it in

many respects differs from Western civilization. Japan has shown

herself capable of doing great things, but she does not do them in the

same way that they are done in Europe or America. For example,

consider her manufactories, which now threaten to compete with those of

our own country. In America manufactories mean enormous capital

invested. Costly factories must be erected, the most approved

machinery provided, and the completed plant operated at great expense.

Here almost no capital is used. The buildings are low, one-story

sheds, not more costly than a row of stables at home. It is true that

Japan has a few large, substantial buildings for manufacturing

purposes; but such are rare, and, when found, look out of harmony with

their surroundings. Even nature seems to protest against huge piles of

brick and stone, as she so frequently demolishes them. Most of the

wares of Japan are manufactured in small, cheap buildings, and little

machinery is used. The best silk {105} made is woven in a house that

cost scarcely $500. The best cloisonne, of which only a small piece a

few inches high will cost hundreds of dollars, is made in a little,

two-story house with only six rooms. Some of the greatest

porcelain-makers in the world, whose products are better known in

London and Paris than in their own country, do their work in small

wooden houses in Kyoto, no better than the homes of the American

laborer. "The vast rice crop is raised on millions of tiny farms; the

silk crop in millions of small, poor homes; the tea crop on countless

little patches of soil. Japan has become industrial without becoming

essentially mechanical and artificial."[3] On this small scale the

great work of Japan is done. Japanese civilization, in its parts, is

miniature.

[3] Lafcadio Hearn.

When compared with the civilization of the West, it is unstable; in

fact stability is almost unknown. The land itself is a land of change.

The outlines of the coasts, the courses of the rivers, the form of the

mountains, by the combined action of volcanoes, earthquakes, winds, and

waves, are constantly changing.

The people themselves are continually drifting about from place to

place, changing their residence with the seasons. It has been said

that no people in the world are so migratory. {106} Preparation can be

made in a few hours for the longest journey, and all the necessary

baggage wrapped up in a handkerchief. Japanese life is in a constant

state of fluidity.

The average house, likewise, seems built but for a day. The walls, the

roof, the floors, are made of the lightest materials, and apparently

there is no thought of permanence.

We of the West are wont to think that no real progress can be made

without stability, but Japan has proved the contrary. A uniformly

mobile race is, correspondingly, uniformly impressionable. The fluid

mass of the Japanese people submits itself to the hands of its rulers

as readily as the clay to the hands of the potter, and thus it moves

with system and order toward great ends. It is thus that Japanese

civilization is strong.

When compared with Western civilization, that of Japan is seen to be

less organized and developed, less hasty and feverish in its movements,

It does not impress one so much with its hugeness and ponderosity. It

is lighter, brighter, quieter, more soothing. It is the civilization

of the West robbed of its immensity and seriousness, and reflecting the

national characteristics of these light-hearted sons of the East.

{107}

VI

JAPANESE MORALITY

Japanese morality has been much written about by men of the West, and

many dogmatic judgments have been pronounced upon it. At one extreme,

we have been told that "they are the most immoral people on the face of

the earth"; at the other, we are told that in morality "they have

nothing to learn from the people of Christendom." There is about as

much--or rather as little--truth in the one statement as in the other.

The fact is that it is necessary to have an experimental acquaintance

with Japan before one can really understand or appreciate the moral

condition of her people. The moral ideas and teachings to which they

have been accustomed from childhood are so different from our own that

they could not be expected to approximate to our standards. Judged by

the ideas of the West, they are lacking in morality; but from {108}

their own standpoint they are a moral people. While we cannot accept

theirs as the true standard, it is but fair that, in judging them, we

keep this in view.

Before the introduction of Chinese ethics there was no such thing as a

moral code. The original native religion, Shinto, taught no doctrines

of morality, as we understand them. According to it, to obey

implicitly the mikado was the whole duty of man. As for the rest, if a

Japanese obeyed the natural impulses of his own heart he would be sure

to do right. Modern Shinto writers, in all seriousness, account for

this absence of a moral code by stating that originally Japanese nature

was pure, clean, and sinless, possessing no tendency to evil or wrong.

Barbarians, like the Chinese and Americans, being by nature immoral,

were forced to invent a moral code to control their actions; but in

Japan this was not necessary, as every Japanese acted aright if he only

consulted his own heart. They explain the need for the present moral

laws--a need which they acknowledge--by the fact of association with

outside nations. Immorality and dissoluteness were introduced by the

Chinese and Western peoples, to counteract the evil influence of which

they now have the shameful spectacle of a moral law even among the

children of the "heaven-descended mikado." So much for the teaching of

Shinto in {109} regard to morality. It would be exasperating were it

not ludicrous.

Confucius is the master of Japanese morality. His teachings were

introduced into Japan early in the Christian era, but they became

predominant only in the time of Iyeyasu, in the seventeenth century.

This great statesman, warrior, and patron of learning caused the

Chinese classics to be printed in Japan for the first time; and from

that day to this the morality of Japan has been dominated by Confucian

ideas.

In order to understand Japanese morality, it is necessary for us to

shift our moral base and try to look at the subject through Japanese

eyes. The average native of the West thinks of "morality" as something

belonging to the individual. Even in religion his first thought is to

save his own soul. The value of the soul, its immortality, its

immediate relation to the infinite and eternal Father--these have been

emphasized ever since the first establishment of the church. In

consequence, there is a duty which man owes to himself. He may not

disregard it even at the command of father or king. Within the soul is

the holiest of all, for there is heard in conscience the voice of God

himself. No external authority may be supreme, and at no external

voice may one violate his own convictions of truth.

This thought exalts the individual, and, {110} therefore, sins which

degrade our own personality become most repulsive. Thus, among

high-minded men truth is almost first among the virtues, and an

accusation of falsehood the most hateful of insults. For truth seems

peculiarly personal and spiritual, as if belonging to the very

sanctuary of one's nature. And in like manner, among women, in popular

esteem chastity is of the essence of morality, as its violation seems

to contaminate and debase her holiest self.

Now the Confucian ethics rest upon a quite different principle, and in

this are at one with the ancient teaching of the Greeks and Romans.

The supreme duty is not to the self, but to the organization of which

one is but a part--that is, to the family or to the state. The great

Chinese moralists were statesmen, and their chief concern was, not the

salvation of the individual, but the peace and prosperity of the state.

In their view, the family was the unit, and the state a greater family.

So the conflict of duties, in their questions of casuistry, is never

between individual and social duties, but between duties owed to family

and to state. Loyalty to the state and obedience to parents must be

supreme; but China and Japan differ as to the value of these two.

According to original Confucianism, the first duty of men is obedience

to parents; the second, loyalty to rulers; but in Japan the order of

these {111} duties has been changed, the second being given first place.

The people have learned well this teaching of Confucius. Japan was

prepared soil for its sowing. The native religion taught that the

emperor was a direct descendant of heaven, who ruled by divine right;

the provincial lords were his ministers, and hence loyalty was a plain

duty. The Confucian teaching only strengthened, deepened, and gave

form and outline to a sentiment already existing. This principle of

loyalty thus became the foundation stone of Japanese ethics, and one's

duty to one's lord paramount to all other duties.

In the olden times the people did not look beyond their own feudal

lords and clans to the emperor and the nation. They were to be

faithful unto death to these, but no further. Now that loyalty once

shown to the local princes and clans finds its apotheosis in the

emperor and the empire.

A man's duty to his friends, to his wife and children, and even to his

parents, is counted as nothing in comparison with his duty to rulers

and country. There are many instances in Japanese history of men who,

having slain their own parents, children, wives, for the sake of their

prince, were praised. At the time of the recent tidal wave in northern

Japan, when the waters were rushing furiously into one home, a husband

and {112} father turned a deaf ear to the cries of his drowning wife

and children, permitting them to perish that he might save the

emperor's picture; and he was applauded for the act. A fire recently

demolished the beautiful new buildings of the middle school in Saga.

The library, laboratories, and scientific apparatus were mostly

destroyed, and many of the students lost their clothing and books. The

loss in buildings alone was some $20,000. Yet the thing the loss of

which they lamented most deeply was a photograph of the emperor which

could easily be replaced for a few yen.

A characteristic story, showing the devotion with which the old samurai

carried out this principle of loyalty, is the tale of the forty-seven

ronins. It is rather long to insert here, but as it illustrates so

well the power of this principle, I will relate it.

In the year 1701 the lord of Ako, Asano by name, visited Yedo to pay

his respects to the shogun. While there the shogun appointed him to

receive and entertain an envoy from the mikado. Now, the reception of

an envoy from the imperial court was one of the greatest state

ceremonies of the day, and as Asano knew little of ceremonies and

etiquette, he asked the advice of another nobleman, named Kira, who was

expert in such matters. This man, who seems to have {113} been of a

very mean disposition, grudgingly gave the information desired, and

then asked a fee for the same. Asano refused to give the fee, and

Kira, becoming angry, twitted and jeered at him, calling him a country

lout, unworthy the name of daimio. Asano endured the insults patiently

until Kira peremptorily ordered him to stoop down and fasten his

foot-gear for him,--a most menial service,--when he drew his sword and

gave the offender a deep cut across the face. This quarrel took place

in the precincts of the palace, and instantly the whole court was in an

uproar. To degrade the sacred place was an insult punishable with

death and the confiscation of all property; and Asano was condemned to

take his own life by hara-kiri that same evening, his estates were

confiscated, his family declared extinct, and his clan disbanded.

Henceforth his retainers became ronins ("wandering men"), with no

country and no lord. According to the ethics of their country, it was

their bounden duty to avenge the death of their lord, and we shall see

how relentlessly they followed their purpose until it was accomplished.

The senior retainer of the dead Asano, Oishu Kuranosuke, together with

forty-six others of his most trusty fellow-lieges, took counsel as to

how they might avenge their lord. They all were willing to lay down

their lives in the attempt, but {114} even then the task was difficult,

because of the vigilance of the government. For such vengeance was

rigidly prohibited by law, although as rigidly required by custom.

Notwithstanding the fact that all who slew an enemy for vengeance were

punished by death, not to take such vengeance never entered the mind of

any chivalrous Japanese. After much planning the forty-seven ronins

decided that to avoid the suspicions of the government it would be

necessary for them to separate and for the time conceal their purpose.

So they separated, settling in different cities, and taking up various

occupations. Many of them became carpenters, smiths, and merchants,

and in these capacities gained access to Kira's house and learned all

about its interior arrangements. The leader of this faithful band,

Oishu, went to Kyoto and plunged into a life of drunkenness and

debauchery. He even put away his wife and children, and led the most

dissolute life possible, simply to throw off the suspicions of the

authorities. All of the ronins were closely watched by spies, who

secretly reported their conduct to Kira. But by these devices they

finally lulled all suspicion, and the vigilance ceased. Then the day

long waited for had come. Suddenly, on the night of January 30, 1703,

two years after the death of their lord, in the midst of a violent

snowstorm, these forty-seven faithful men attacked {115} Kira's castle,

forced the gate, and slew all the retainers. Kira, who was a coward at

heart, concealed himself in an outhouse. The ronins found him there,

drew him forth, and requested him to kill himself by hara-kiri, as was

the privilege of a man of his rank. But he refused out of fear, and

the retainers of Asano were forced to kill him as they would have

killed a common coolie. Thus did they accomplish their purpose and

fulfil the high duty of loyalty to their dead lord, after two years of

waiting, most careful planning, and ceaseless vigilance.

By the time their purpose was accomplished day had dawned, and, in

plain view of the whole city, this brave band marched in order to the

temple of Sengakuji, where Asano was buried. The citizens showed them

every honor on the way. A wealthy nobleman, as a reward for their

loyal deed, sent them out costly refreshments. When they arrived at

the temple the head abbot received them in person and showed them every

honor. Finding the grave of their dead lord, they laid thereon the

head of the enemy by whom he had been so deeply wronged, and then felt

that their duty was done. They were all sentenced to commit hara-kiri,

which they did willingly. Afterward they were buried together in the

same temple grounds with their lord, where their graves can be seen to

this day.

{116}

These men simply obeyed the ethical code of their time and country, and

as a reward for their loyalty they have received the enthusiastic

praise of their countrymen for two centuries. No other story is so

popular to-day, or so stirs the hearts of the people, as this. While

we, believing that vengeance belongs to the Lord, cannot indorse this

deed, we must admire the loyalty and faithfulness of those ronins, and

the perseverance with which they adhered to their purpose. In this

true story we see clearly the power of this first principle of Japanese

morality--loyalty.

The sister principle of loyalty in Confucian ethics is obedience to

parents. Unquestioning, absolute, implicit obedience is required of

all children. Formerly the child was considered the property of the

parents, and could be disposed of at will, even to the taking of its

life. To-day the father may sell his daughter to a life of shame, or

"lend" her to a private individual for immoral purposes; and, however

much she may dislike such a life, obedience to parents requires that

she acquiesce in his will, which she does uncomplainingly.

This principle of obedience is the foundation stone of Japanese family

life. The relation between parents and children is stronger than that

between man and wife, and is given a prior place. An only son cannot

be forced to leave his mother {117} and become a soldier, but a husband

may be forced to leave his wife. Within the family circle, the son's

duty to his aged parents always precedes his duty to his wife. Every

Japanese feels deeply this obligation to his parents, and properly to

support and nourish them in old age he holds to be a sacred duty.

Americans could learn much that would be profitable from the reverence

and respect shown for parents and teachers by the Japanese.

In Japan, however, this principle is carried too far. It continues

after death as binding as before, and divine honors are paid to dead

ancestors. Periodical visits are made to their tombs, religious

candles are kept burning in their honor, and prayers are said to them.

Among the more enlightened to-day there is perhaps nothing in these

ceremonies but reverence and respect; yet by the masses of the people

ancestors are worshiped.

There are two moral maxims that show well the relative importance in

which parents, relatives, and wives are held. They are the following:

"Thy father and thy mother are like heaven and earth; thy teacher and

thy lord are like the sun and the moon." "Other kinsfolk may be

likened to the rushes; husbands and wives are but as useless stones."

It is apparent that virtues have differing values in the Confucian and

Christian systems. We can {118} appreciate their point of view best,

perhaps, as we remember the ethics of an army. Here obedience,

loyalty, self-devotion, courage, are supreme. Much is forgiven if

these are manifested. The organization is everything, and the

individual nothing, save as he is a fraction of the great machine.

Carry that idea into the social community, and think of it as an army,

with all, women as well as men, of value only as parts of the greater

whole, and we shall understand why and how the Japanese may esteem men

and women righteous whom we judge debased and even criminal. So would

the Japanese judge them, were the motive mere passion or selfish

desire, but not when the controlling power is loyalty or obedience.

Thus the forty-seven ronin were pre-eminently "righteous" when they

debauched themselves with every swinish vice.

The Gist of Japan: The Islands, Their People, and Missions · 第 5 / 17 段