Chapter XI

), I was shown a shrine pitifully bedizened by the _waraji_ (straw sandals) and _ema_[222] of a thousand or more pilgrims who were suffering or had recovered from syphilis.[223]

During our conversation Yanagi said: "Shintoism is not of course a religion at all. It draws great strength from the national instinct for cleanliness manifested by people living in a hot climate. The religion of poor people is largely custom; I complain of educated people not that they are sceptical but that they are not sceptical enough. They simply don't care. According to Mr. Uchimura, there is only one way to God and that is through Christianity. But there are many ways. A personal religion like Christianity is more effective than Buddhism, but it does not follow that Christianity is better than Buddhism. I find I get to like Mr. Uchimura more and more and his views less and less. It is not his theoretical Christianity but his courageous spirit which attracts. He is a courageous man and we have very great need of morally courageous men. Although Christianity is impossible without Christ, Buddhism is possible without Buddha. A variety of religions is not harmful, and we have to take note of the Christian temperament and the Buddhistic temperament. Orientals can only be appealed to by an Oriental religion. Christianity is an Oriental religion no doubt, but it has been Westernised. It must always be borne in mind that Buddhistic literature is in a special language and that it is difficult for most people to get a general view of Buddhism."

In further talk the speaker said that in Japan the individual had not been separated from the mass. But it was difficult to exaggerate the swiftness of the national development. The newer Russian writers were "certainly as well known in England, possibly better known." As to Tolstoy alone, there were at least fifty books about him. But it had to be admitted that, generally speaking, the Japanese development though rapid had not gone deep. In painting there was dexterity and technique but few men knew where they were going. Their work was "surface beautiful." They had not passed the stage of Zorn.

We spoke of conscription and I said that it had not escaped my attention that many young men showed an increasing desire to avoid military service. From a single person I had heard of youths who had escaped by looking ill--through a week's fasting--by impairing their eyesight by wearing strong glasses for a few weeks, by contriving to be examined in a fishing village where the standard of physique was high, or by shamming Socialist.[224] Many Japanese bear uncomplainingly the heavy burden of the military system. But the others are to be reckoned with.

Said one of these to me: "We Japanese are not inherently a warlike people and have no desire to be militarists; but we are suffering from German influence not only in the army but through the middle-aged legal, scientific and administrative classes who were largely educated in Germany or influenced by German teaching. This German influence may have been held in check to some extent, perhaps, by the artistic world, which has certainly not been German, except in relation to music, and after all that is the best part of Germany. Many young people have taken their ideas largely from Russia; more from the United States and Great Britain. But Germany will always make her appeal on account of her reputation with us for system, order, industry, depth of knowledge, persistence and nationalism."

On the family system, the study of which was more than once urged upon me in connection with the rural problem, this statement was made to me by an agricultural expert: "I will tell you the story of an official whose salary was that of a Governor. His father was a farmer. The farmer borrowed money to educate his son. When the son became an official he paid the money back, but on the small salaries he received this repayment was a strain. Then two brothers came to his house frequently for money, and when they received it spent it in ridiculous ways. This begging has gone on for nine years. My friend has to live not like an Excellency but like a _gunchō_. He cannot treat his wife and children fairly. But of the money he gives to his brothers he says, 'It is my family expense.'"

I also heard this story: "A married B. B died without having any children. A next married B's sister, C. Then, because of the necessity of having a male heir for the maintenance of his family, and because he thought it was unlikely that his wife C would have children as her dead sister B had had none, he adopted his wife's younger brother, D. But the wife C did have children. Consequently, not only is A's wife his sister-in-law and his eldest 'son' his wife's brother, but his children are his eldest 'son's' nephews. The eldest of these children, E, is legally the younger son. He says, 'I am glad that instead of an uncle I have an elder brother. I am much attached to him and he is attached to me. I am not sorry to be younger instead of elder brother, for when my father dies my adopted brother will become head of the family and he must then bring up his younger brothers and sisters, manage the family fortunes, bear the family troubles and keep all the cousins and uncles in good humour by inviting them occasionally and at other times by visiting them and giving them presents.'[225]

"It is obvious that our family system, for speaking in criticism of which officials have been dismissed from their posts, puts too much stress on the family and too little on the individual. The family is the unit of society. Any member of it is only a fraction of that unit. For the sake of the family every member of it must sacrifice almost everything.[226] Sometimes the development of the individual character and individual initiative is checked by the family system. An eldest son is often required to follow his father's calling irrespective of his tastes. Nowadays some eldest sons go abroad, but their departure attracts attention and you seldom find such a thing happening among farmers. The family system, by which all is subordinated to family, is convenient to farmers for it means increased labour and economy of living. Sometimes there may be two married sons living at home and then there is often strife. Generally speaking, the family system at one and the same time keeps young men from striking out in the world and compels their early marriage so that the helping hands to the family may be more numerous. The family system concentrates the attention on the family and not on society. There is no energy left for society.

"Again, the family system gives too much power to relatives and leads to disagreeable interference. In the case of a marriage being proposed between family A and family B, the families related to A or B who will be brought into closer connection by the marriage may object. On the other hand, the family system has the advantage that the relatives who interfere may also be looked upon for help. Not a few people are all for maintaining the family system. But the spirit of individualism is entering into some families and here and there children are beginning to claim their rights and to act against relatives' wishes. One hears of farmers sending boys, even elder sons, to the towns, and for their equipment borrowing from the prefectural agricultural bank instead of spending on the development of their business."

At a Christmas-day luncheon I met four students of rural problems, two of whom were peers, one a governor of an important prefecture, and a fourth a high official in the agricultural world. One man, speaking of the family system, said "the success of agriculture depends on it." "In my opinion," someone remarked, "the foundation of the family system is common production and common consumption, so when these things go there must be a gradual disappearance of the family system." "No," came the rejoinder, "the only enemy of the family system is Western influence." "Yes," the fourth speaker added, "an enemy whose blows have told."

Someone suggested that the Japanese rural emigrant always hoped to return home, that is if he could return with dignity--does not the proverb speak of the desirability of returning home in good clothes? One of the company said that he had seen in Kyushu rows of white-washed slated houses which had been erected by returned emigrants. "But they were successful prostitutes. Often, however, these girls invest their money unwisely and have to go abroad again."

Everybody at table agreed that there was in the villages a slow if steady slackening of "the power of the landlord, of the authorities and of religion," and a development of a desire and a demand for better conditions of life. One who proclaimed himself a conservative urged that changes of form were too readily confounded with changes of spirit. The change in thought in Japan, he said, was slow, and some occurrences might be easily misjudged. I said that that very day I had heard from my house the drone of an aeroplane prevail over the sound of a temple bell, happening to speak of _The Golden Bough_, I asked my neighbour, who had read it, if to a Japanese who got its penetrating view some things could ever be the same again. He answered frankly, "There are things in our life which are too near to criticise. Do you know that there are parts of Japan where folklore is still being made?"

I was invited one evening to dinner to meet a dozen men conspicuous in the agricultural world. Priests were apologised for because most of them were "very poor men and also poorly educated." Very few had been even to a middle school. Many priests read Chinese scriptures aloud but they did not understand what they were reading.

One man reported that an old farmer had said to him that paddy-field labour was harder than dry-land labour, but young men did not go off to Tokyo because of the severity of the work; they went away because of "the bondage of rural life."

How much has the economic stress affected old convictions? How general and how eager is the Japanese resolution to Westernise farther? None of the rural sociologists had given any thought apparently to a new factor in the rural problem: the way in which compulsory military service, in taking farmers' sons to the cities as soldiers and bluejackets, is giving them an acquaintance with neo-Malthusianism. In Tokyo and other large cities certain articles are prominently advertised on the hoardings. It is of some importance to consider what will be the effect of this knowledge in competition with the national appreciation of large families.[227] Is it likely that an intensely "practical" people, which has bolted so much of European and American "civilisation," will be wholly uninfluenced by the Western practice of limitation of offspring? What is to-day the actual strength of the social needs which have produced the large Japanese family?[228] Whatever middle-aged Japanese may think, the matter is not in their hands, but in the hands of the younger generation. Most Western economists would no doubt argue that if fewer babies arrived in Japan there would not be so many farmers' boys and university graduates bent on emigrating.

Without the voluntary limitation of families, however, the number of children born is likely to be diminished by the increased cost of living and by the postponement of marriage. I know Japanese men who were married before they were twenty; the younger generation of my friends is marrying nearer thirty.[229]

There is reason to believe that the population has not increased of recent years at the old rate.[230] A responsible authority expressed the opinion to me that the necessities of the population are unlikely to overtake the means of production in the near future.[231]

The Japanese are intensely practical, but they have, as we have seen, another side. If that other side is not "spiritual," in the sense in which the word is largely used in the West, it is at least regardful of other considerations than the "practical." It is with thoughts of that vital side of the national character that I recall a story told me by Dr. Nitobe of the last days of the Forty-seven Ronin. It is well authenticated. When the Ronin had slain their dead lord's persecutor and had given themselves up to the authorities, they were found worthy of death. But the Shogun was in some anxiety as to what might justly be done. He sent privily to a famous abbot saying that it was at all times the duty of the Shogun to condemn to death men who had committed murder. Yet it was the privilege of a priest to ask for mercy, and in the matter of the lives of the Ronin the Shogun would not be unwilling to listen to a plea for mercy. The abbot answered that he sympathised deeply with the Ronin, but because he so sympathised with them he was unwilling to take any steps which might hinder the carrying out of the sentence. It was true, he said, that there were old men among the Ronin, but many, of them were young men--one was only fifteen--and it had to be borne in mind that if they escaped death at the hands of the law it was hardly likely that during the whole course of their after-lives they could hope to escape committing sin of some sort or another. At the moment they had reached a pinnacle of nobility which they could never pass and it was a thing to be desired for them that they should die now, when they would live to all posterity as heroes. The happiest fate for the Ronin was a righteous death, and as their admiring sympathiser the abbot expressed his unwillingness to do anything which might have the effect of saving them from so glorious an end.

FOOTNOTES:

[221] Someone said to me, "I have in mind one village where there is a poorly cared-for school and a score of teahouses giving employment to nearly two hundred people."

[222] "Small boards with crude designs painted on them. They may be prayers, thank-offerings or protective charms. A shrine where many thanks _ema_ have been left is clearly that of a god ready to hear and answer prayer. Worshippers flock to the place and the accumulation of painted boards--whether prayers or thanks--increases."--FREDERICK STARR, _Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan_, vol. xlviii.

[223] The percentage in conscripts in 1918 was 2.2 per cent, against 2.5 per cent, in 1917 and 2.7 per cent, in 1916. ("Not less than 10 per cent. of the population of our large towns are infected with syphilis and a much larger proportion with gonorrhœa."--SIR JAMES CRICHTON-BROWNE.) The figures for the general population of Japan must be higher.

[224] See Appendix LXIII.

[225] It sometimes happens that an adopted son is dismissed with "a sufficient monetary compensation" when a real son is born.

[226] I met a fine ex-daimyo, who after the Restoration had served as a prefectural governor. He was so generous in giving money to public objects in his prefecture that his family compelled him to resign office.

[227] See Appendix XXX.

[228] It is only within the last quarter of a century that the authorities have taken a stand against infanticide. There is no traditional dislike of an artificial diminution of progeny, for many of the fathers and grandfathers of the present generation practised it. Methods of procuring abortion were also common. A certain plant has a well-known reputation as an abortifacient. A young peer and his wife are now conducting a campaign on behalf of smaller families, and the discussion has advanced far enough for a magazine to invite Dr. Havelock Ellis to express his views.

[229] According to the 1918 figures the ages at which men and women married were as follows per 1,000: before 20, m. 37.6, w. 259.0; 20-25, m. 304.9, w. 434.8; 26-30, m. 347.9, w. 159.4; 31-35, m. 145.1, w. 67.3; 36-40, m. 70.0, w. 37.1; 41-45, m. 41.8, w. 21.4; 46-50, m. 22.8, w. 10.5; 51-55, m. 14.7, w. 6.0; 56-60, m. 7.3, w. 2.5; 61 and upwards, m. 7.9, w. 2.

[230] See Appendix XXX.

[231] See Appendices XXV and LXXX; also page 363 for the reasons operating against emigration. Mr. J. Russell Kennedy, of Kokusai-Reuter, declared (1921) that it was "a myth that Japan must find an outlet for surplus population; Japan has plenty of room within her own border," that is, including Korea and Formosa as well as Hokkaido in Japan. Mr. S. Yoshida, Secretary of the Japanese Embassy in London, in an address also delivered in 1921, stressed the value of the fishing-grounds and the mercantile marine as openings for an increased population. "The resources of the sea," he said, "give Japan more room for her population than appears."

REFLECTIONS IN HOKKAIDO

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