Part 12

--'I, for one, agree with you that the charge is certainly unfair,' said the duchess, 'and besides, I repeat I do not agree with those who say that the Japanese have no religion. The very ideals which they hold up as models for their soldiers cannot but be a religion, as I said the other day. What does a "religion" mean? It means a conscientious preparedness and practice for the suppression of one's lower nature. Man has all sorts of wishes and desires, temptations and tendencies, which the experience of generations knows must be restrained. Wisdom comes in and teaches him to control such weakness, and the teaching, if systematised at all, becomes a "religion," a cult, if one prefers to call it by that appellation. For instance, man likes to live (what creature likes to die if left to his natural desire), and if he prefers to give up his life for some ideal, is it not an act of self-repression, or indeed of self-sacrifice, and if it forms a characteristic of a nation, does it not become the "religion" of that nation? Some say the Japanese despise life, because they like death for its own sake: I call that a nonsensical observation. On the contrary, I see a religion in the very fact of the Japanese being so patriotic as to so cheerfully sacrifice their lives for their country and for their emperor. A remark which I have read in a paper as having been uttered by General Nogi certainly contains, to my idea, a strong religious strain. It was:

'"Now that my two sons have sacrificed their lives and I am a childless man, I may with an easier conscience face the parents of those thousands of young men who have likewise offered up their lives under my command."

'The expression may be simple,' continued the duchess, 'but nevertheless, it is possible to discern in it a touch of feeling, which to me has a strong religious element. In truth, I must confess that I have noticed more deeds worthy of religion manifested by your country than any nation professing a religion can lay claim to. Some time ago, a priest of very high standing returned from the Far East. He made an application while out there to be allowed to visit the Russian prisoners in order to see how they were treated by the Japanese authorities. He got the permission at once, and saw everything, to his great personal satisfaction. He then made a similar application to the Russian authorities, but was refused. He had some ground to suspect that the Russian treatment of the prisoners was not quite satisfactory. To begin with, he said, Japan, who is not our ally, had given him every facility, and Russia, who is, refused to do so. He almost wept at the thought that a non-Christian nation had more of the essence of a religion than another who professed Christianity. I should not have told you all this, were I not moved by the current of events, which have left a deep impression on my mind. I have no thoughts of being unfriendly to Russia, but I cannot help appreciating Japan all the same.'

--'I thank you very much,' I said.

--'I know the horror of war very well,' continued the duchess, 'and what lamentable incidents occur when the wild, warlike spirit prevails. During our last great war, I was but a girl of thirteen, and I was naturally with my mother. We had to quarter the wounded; I remember how I used to carry about a small table from one to another, writing short notes for them. Little as I was, many awful tales reached my ear during that war, wherein our priests, and our women too, were sufferers. I can never forget them. Compared to it the present war is a lesson; the so-called civilised world has to learn much from the Japanese, not only on points of courage and devotion, but also in regard to _morale_.'

A little pause, and the duchess went on--

--'Stoical imperturbability appears to be a marked feature in your heroes. There are many people who have seen the character of the Japanese in many lights and appreciate it, and yet are unable to perceive their feelings, or I might rather say, sentimental qualities. They are curious to know if the Japanese nature is much developed in that respect.'

--'Well, I can tell you, as far as I may be permitted to judge my own countrymen, we have much feeling and sentimental elements. At the very bottom of the stoicism of Bushi there flows hidden streams of feeling and sentimentality, often imperceptible to the onlooker. In one way, I am of opinion that our heart is filled with even too much feeling and sentimentality, and I am inclined to believe it is our weak point, for feeling and sentimentality are often accompanied by over-scrupulousness and over-sensitiveness, and with us this disposition exercises much influence, not only in our private affairs, but also in politics and diplomacy. In this world, in which some people say that politics, still more international diplomacy, knows not morality, the fact that we are so scrupulous often hinders our politics and diplomacy, and yet we do not regret it, for the time may come when the just traits of our character will be discovered by the world at large, and receive its approval.'

--'You are,' said the duchess, 'well acquainted with our common saying, "Honesty is the best policy," and my earnest hope is that your country will never imitate some of the European politics. But, baron, let me ask another question: Granted that the moral and ethical training of Japan is a religion, as I do, yet I cannot entirely see how that training could have been instilled in the minds of millions of men so deeply. When one hears of thousands rushing on to certain death at a word of command (as we have often heard of the Japanese troops), one is almost tempted to think there may be something in it which promises a reward in the future life for such a death, as is the case with the Mohammedan creed; but I understand that there is nothing of the sort in your training, and that the fact of your soldiers being so fearless of death has nothing to do with religion in its ordinarily accepted sense. I can very well imagine that this or that group of honourable men, picked out of multitudes, could be of that type, but it almost amazes me when we see hundreds of thousands of men, one and all, being animated by the same spirit, without any exception.'

--'I cannot,' I answered, 'profess that every man of our troops is so high-minded as you say, or at least, I cannot say so myself, being Japanese; but assuming it to be the case, the kind of doubt to which you give expression is entertained by many Occidentals, and questions to that effect have often been put to me. I can, however, give no other answer than to repeat that there is no such religious belief in our case, as there is in Mohammedanism. In Europe one often engages in a deadly duel on account of some dispute, sometimes for public reasons, but often for other reasons which do not appear commendable to outsiders: those who fight surely do not risk their lives from any religious belief in their cause. They do so because, as far as they themselves are concerned, a consideration of honour demands. This sentiment is exactly similar to our sense of honour, only in our case we have, perhaps, made it more rational and more general. To attain this ideal, a long training and preparation is necessary, but when once attained, there is nothing to wonder at. If one imagined that a man killed in a duel on account of a quarrel over a woman sacrificed his life because he believed he would be happy in a future life,--if he died in that fashion, every one else would laugh at him. Why, then, is there anything to wonder at when we say that we Japanese can be fearless of death without connecting it with a religious belief of the future life, for a cause which is far nobler than that of the ordinary Western custom of sacrificing one's life in a duel. The _morale_ of our troops is the result purely of ordinary ethical training and diffusion of national traditions. Loyalty and patriotism are the highest ideals of the Japanese nation. Japanese ethics have taught for centuries how to die an honourable death, and yet one must not think that Japanese ethics teach only how to die: they also teach how to live.'

--'What do you mean by that?'

--'I mean to say, in Bushido, death was not valued for its own sake, even in a battle, for if one died a useless or dishonourable death, it was called a dog's death, which, of course, is a term of contempt. We still have the same notion of death. In a book on Bushido, entitled _Chiku-ba-sho_, written in the fourteenth century A.D., by Shiwa-Yoshimasa, as I mentioned the other day, we have in the very opening page, as follows:

'Men who handle bows and arrows [military men] should do their part, thinking not only of their own persons, but of the names of their descendants. They should not incur a perpetually irksome name [permanent bad reputation] on account of a greed for life, which is after all of short duration. But, on the other hand, if they cast away their lives when they ought not to die, they will also incur a discreditable name. The chief point is that life should be sacrificed when it is honourable to do so, in behalf of the supreme lord [the emperor], or on account of an affair which is of great importance to the generalissimo of their bows and arrows [the Shogun]. Only by thus behaving can the famous names of the descendants be secured and perpetuated. As a Bushi, one should never be light-minded; on the contrary, he should always be thoughtful and meditative. The majority of men pass their time saying they would behave aptly when time and circumstances requiring it arrive. Such people generally experience great difficulty when any emergency unexpectedly arises, and generally regret afterwards that they had missed the opportunity when they ought to have died. The training of the mind of the best bow-handlers [warriors] and of Buddhists is said to be identical. In all cases, restlessness of mind is deplorable.'

--'The term "name" plays a great part in your ethical notions, as I see from the quotation you have just given,' said the duchess. 'You yourself have also spoken about it in your peroration to the article on Japanese education, which you published in the _Independent Review_. I was reading that article this very morning, and had intended to ask you for a further explanation about it, but I think I have now caught the idea, though it is somewhat vague to me still. The idea of doing one's part, thinking of the names of one's descendants, as the book you have just quoted speaks about, sounds somewhat odd to our ears. It will be always puzzling to the generality of the Occidentals.'

--'Why so,' I answered; 'you Occidentals seem always to make simple matters difficult to comprehend, when they would be quite clear if only viewed in a light, not deep, philosophical manner. The spirit of the dictum I have just quoted has always been maintained in our ethics, under all circumstances. As you say, no human creature can love death; it is against nature, and, therefore, we Japanese value life no less than other races; but we study how to live and how to die, and when circumstances require, we value our life lighter than the proverbial feather: that's all.'

--'And yet it is a problem for us,' said the duchess.

--'And it is plain to us who have grown up in such an atmosphere, although it may be somewhat difficult for foreigners to understand.'

--'Do you think those noble characteristics will last long under the influence of modern civilisation?' asked the duchess.

--'It is a question,' I answered, 'but I hope and believe it will last; indeed, we must make it do so.'

--'But now, to take up the thread of our original conversation,' said the duchess. 'Politically speaking, I am of the opinion that Russia ought to make friends with you, and that my long, endearing hope for an _entente_ between England, France, Russia, and your country ought to be effected for the security of peace at large and for the benefit of humanity.'

--'I appreciate,' I answered, 'the general trend of your discourse, and I know it has been your line of politics for many years, and not a view invented merely to please me. I sympathise with you all the more when I hear you confessing the weak points of an ally and paying high tribute to my country. The time may come when your cherished idea may be realised, but at present the prospects do not look bright. The greatest obstacle in the path is the pretensions of the Russians. They will not reconcile themselves to the idea that we Japanese are also a nation which deserves the name of a civilised race.'

--'They will and must do so in time,' said the duchess.

--'We Japanese are modest. We do not give ourselves airs. I say this frankly and sincerely. It is neither presumption nor self-conceit, it is my pure conviction; but we like to be treated with proper consideration. A few days ago an interview which I gave to a French weekly was published. The subject was somewhat akin to our present conversation. A telegram from Washington, which was published in some journals, stated that the Russians in America were irritated because President Roosevelt had given an informal reception to Baron Komura. It also stated that the Russians were inspiring the impression that Mr. Roosevelt was annoyed with Great Britain because she had refused to put pressure on Japan to be moderate, and so on. The gist of my observation on the telegram was:--

'It was understood that the plenipotentiaries of both countries should arrive in Washington before the first part of August. The Japanese plenipotentiaries arrived punctually at the prearranged date, but the Russian plenipotentiaries were belated, as we all know, and yet complaints are made that it was Mr. Roosevelt's partiality towards Japan which made him receive the Japanese plenipotentiaries informally. I cannot see why the president should not offer cordiality to his distinguished guests, be they Japanese or Russian, on their arrival. England is not less anxious to see the termination of the present war than any other nation, but I do not see why England should put pressure upon Japan to give advantage to Russia, inasmuch as she knows that Japan is not a nation to make any unreasonable demand upon her worsted foe. President Roosevelt knows all this. I also believe that while the president is determined to be quite impartial in the matter, he is not inclined to oppress Japan in order to give any unreasonable advantage to Russia, nor does he expect to see England do so either.

--'You see, such sentiments as those expressed in the telegram, which I do not consider a misrepresentation, cannot but arise from some idea of prestige, with which the Russians imagine they have been endowed to a much higher degree by nature than Japan has been. There is another point they have made a great deal of fuss about, and which they cannot get out of their heads. It is the first torpedoing of the Russian fleets at the entrance of Port Arthur, which took place, as you know, on the night of the 8-9th of February last year. They always speak of it as a treacherous attack. As a matter of fact, however, it was nothing of the sort, as may be seen from all the circumstances which forced us into the war, and which are known to all the world. Our justification has become more evident since the revelation of the secret history of the Russian politics of the time. There even exists a secret treaty between China and Russia, made at the time when Russia obtained a concession from China for the construction of the Manchurian railways. The purport of the treaty, which is now no longer a secret, is no other than that Russia and China were to regard Japan as their enemy, and to menace her by the use of that railway. China soon discovered the fallacy: she soon saw that Japan had not the disposition represented by the Russians. Russia would perhaps now say that the treaty was only made for the purpose of obtaining the concession: I hope it was so, but who knows that it had been so from the beginning? In spite of all this, Japan had always adopted a conciliatory attitude before the outbreak of the war--a war in which, to use a phrase of President Roosevelt's memorable message to the American Congress, "it was necessary for the aggrieved nation valiantly to stand up for its rights." Remember, I do not quote this in any vainglory. Moreover, when the war became inevitable, we gave a clear notice of war to our opponents (on the 6th of that month). Perhaps you have seen the White Book of Japan relating to the subject.'

--'I saw a French translation of it,' said the duchess, 'and it has modified considerably the early impressions, not only of myself, but of most people.'

--'I am glad of that,' I said. 'It is true that the Emperor of Japan issued on the 10th of that month a formal declaration of war, but it was addressed to his own subjects, and its aim was to make the actual situation known to them and also indirectly to the neutrals. As far as Russia and Japan are concerned, the notice of the 6th, whereby Japan announced to Russia that she would take an "independent action," was nothing else than a declaration of war. It is, therefore, unfair to state that the first attack on Port Arthur was a "treacherous attack" or "an attack by surprise," even if there were no other reasons which justify Japan's action.'

--'And yet the Russian statesman, for instance, wrote in the same remarkable letters that "the whole world knows that Japan and not Russia has provoked the present war," and spoke of Japan, in reference to the first battle of Port Arthur, as "guilty of a criminal breach of peace," and of that battle as a "piratical night attack." He went on so far as to stigmatise Japan as "this bullying and bellicose nation." It is the more remarkable that all this had been done after the plain facts of the truth had come into the possession of the world. In the course of my refutation I stated that torpedoing was not a surprise attack in the sense of International Law, as the Russian statesman affirms; at the most it could only be construed as a tactical surprise, but in reality it was not even of that nature. I gave my reason therefor, to which the Russian statesman replied, that "a Japanese is the only person who can make any difference between a surprise and a tactical surprise, and no educated European can make such a difference." The difference itself is plain enough. Tactical surprises come under no sphere of international question. The Russian troops themselves are daily practising them in the war. In spite of it, he feigns his ignorance. In my reply I had to detail and to develop my argument a step further. If you are not already wearied, I will recall a passage of my letter in question:

'With regard to the Port Arthur question, I should like in the first place to ask the Russian statesman as to what Russia herself did in all warlike engagements before the battle of Narva, and also when the army of his country entered Poland in 1733; when it entered Moldavia and took possession of Chotsin, Bender, and Jassi in 1806; when the Russian ships fired into, and sunk or captured, some Greek ships and made an attack upon Poros in 1831? Further, how was it when the Russian troops made raids on the coasts of the northern islands of Japan unexpectedly and repeatedly in the beginning of the nineteenth century, on which occasions they slaughtered our innocent villagers and burned our villages, or when they attacked and occupied our Island of Tsushima in 1861?--in all these cases there having been no cause or reason whatever for the hostility perpetrated, and that, too, without the slightest warning. Above all, I should like to call his attention to the proposal which his country made through its ambassador, Baron Brunnow, to the Diplomatique Corps of the Great Powers at Constantinople in 1840, concerning Egypt. The Russian ambassador offered various schemes for action, the pith of which was to be found in the following words:

'"To execute all these measures with the greatest promptitude, and with the greatest secrecy,--promptitude, because it is the only means of ensuring their success; secrecy, because the blow must first be struck before it is announced."'

Having read so far, I continued: 'After I had thus written, I proceeded to elucidate that, "with these facts in view, the Russians had no right to calumniate Japan, even if their country were attacked by surprise," and that, "nevertheless, Japan had done nothing of the sort, as is plain from other facts." Such is the case on our side.'

--'That point is now wholly cleared up in the eyes of the world,' said the duchess. 'The Russians certainly ought not to grumble endlessly over the milk which they themselves spilled!'

--'I may remind you of a still more fresh instance of the unscrupulousness of the Russians themselves. At the time of the ratification of the treaty of Simonoseki, did not the Russian admiral commanding the Pacific fleet propose to the French admiral commanding the French fleet in the same water to attack and destroy the Japanese fleet by a deliberate surprise! Was it not only restrained from being carried out by the judicious refusal of the French admiral on the ground that he had received no such instruction from his government! We cannot, of course, be thankful to France for joining the memorable combination of the three powers, but we remember with pleasant recollection the noble determination of her admiral.'

--'Thank God! our action was correct, at least in that respect.'

--'You must be quite sickened,' I said, 'of the hackneyed talk of the "Yellow Peril" cry, and the "Pan-Asiatic" ambition attributed to Japan, because you know they are all groundless. The same Russian statesman dilated on them also: if he really entertains any belief in them his conception is erroneous; if he does not, and still says so, it is most unfair. I assured him that Japan knew no such ambition, and gave vent to my conviction in this manner. I hope you will kindly listen to me.