The Foundations of Japan Part 6

The ignorance of the landlords is the cause of this state of things.

It is very important that the landlord's son shall go to the agricultural school, where there is plenty of practical work which will bring the perspiration from him." The object of most good landlords is to increase the income of their tenants. It is felt that unless the farmers have more money in their hands, progress is impossible. There is one direction in which the landlords are not tried. The franchise is so narrow that farmers cannot vote against their landlords.

In the house of one old landowning family in which I was a guest I saw a _gaku_ inscribed, "Happiness comes to the house whose ancestors were virtuous." I was admitted to the family shrine. Round the walls of the small apartment in which the shrine stood were the autographs or portraits of distinguished members of the house going back four or five hundred years. It was easy to see that the inspiring force of this family was its untarnished name. It was a crime against the ancestors to reduce the prestige or merit of the family. No stronger influence could be exerted upon an erring member of such a family than to be brought by his father or elder brother before the family shrine and there reprimanded in the presence of the ancestral spirits. The head of this house is at present a schoolboy of twelve and the government of the family is in the hands of a "regent," the lad's uncle. I saw the boy and his younger sister trot off in the morning with their satchels on their backs to the village school in democratic j.a.panese fas.h.i.+on. j.a.pan is a much more democratic country than the tourist imagines. Distinctions of cla.s.s are accompanied by easy relations in many important matters.

I went for a second time to the restful city of Nagoya. It is out of the sphere of influence of Tokyo and is conservative of old ideas.

People live with less display than in the capital and perhaps pride themselves on doing so. But if the houses of even the well-to-do are small and inconspicuous, the interiors are of satisfying quality in materials and workmans.h.i.+p, and the family G.o.downs bring forth surprises. Here as elsewhere the guest is served in treasured lacquer and porcelain. (While we are not accustomed in the West to look at the marks on our host's table silver, it is perfect j.a.panese manners to admire a food bowl by examining the potter's marks.) My host hung a rural _kakemono_ in my room, one day a fine old study of poultry, another an equally beautiful painting of hollyhocks.

As we left the town my attention was attracted by a commemorative stone overlooking rice fields. The inscription proclaimed the fact that at that spot the late Emperor Meiji,[34] as a lad of fifteen, on his historic first journey to Tokyo, "beheld the farmers reaping."

The matron of a farmhouse two centuries old showed me a tub containing tiny carp which she had hatched for her carp pond, the inmates of which, as is common, came to be fed when she clapped her hands. In the garden there was an old clay b.u.t.t still used for archery. In the farmhouse I was taken into a room in which in the old days the daimyo overlord had rested, into another room which had a secret door and into a third room where--an electric fan was buzzing.

At a school I had to face the usual ordeal of having to "write" as best I could a motto for use as a wall picture. Our lettering, when done with a brush, falls pitifully behind Chinese characters in decorative value, and our mottoes will not readily translate into j.a.panese. I was often grateful to Henley for "I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul," because with the subst.i.tution of "commander" for captain, the lines translate literally.

We left the village through arches which had been erected by the young men's a.s.sociation. At an old country house four interesting things were shown to me. There was, first, a phial of rice seed 230 years old. The agricultural professor who was my fellow-guest told me that he had germinated some of the grains, but they did not produce rice plants. The second thing was a fine family shrine before which a religious ceremony had been performed twice a day by succeeding generations of the same family for 350 years. The third object of interest was a little, narrow, flat steel dagger about eight inches long, sheathed in the scabbard of a sword. The dagger was used for "fastening an enemy's head on." After the owner of the sword had beheaded his foe, he drew the smaller weapon, and, thrusting one end into the headless trunk and the other end into the base of the head, politely united head and body once more, thus making it possible "to show due respect and sympathy towards the dead." Finally, I had the privilege of handling a wonderful suit of armour which was fitted slowly together for me out of many pieces. Although it had been made several centuries ago, this rich suit of lacquered leather had been a j.a.panese general's wear on the field of battle within living memory.

One of the landowners I met was a poet who had been successful in the Imperial poem compet.i.tion which is held every New Year. A subject is set by His Majesty and the thousands of pieces sent in are submitted to a committee. The dozen best productions are read before the sovereign himself, and this is the honour sought by the compet.i.tors.

The subject for compet.i.tion in the year in which the landowner had been successful was, "The cryptomeria in a temple court." His poem was as follows:

In transplanting The young cryptomeria trees Within the sacred fence There is a symbol Of the beginning of the reign.

The New Year poems come from every cla.s.s of the community and there is seldom a year in which landowners or farmers are not among the fortunate twelve.

As we rode along a companion spoke of the force of public opinion in keeping things straight in the countryside, also of the far-reaching control exercised by fathers and elder brothers. But the good behaviour of some people was due, he said, to a dread of being ridiculed in the newspapers, which allow themselves extraordinary freedom in dealing with reputations.

I met a man who had had a monument erected to him. He was a member of a little company which received me in a farmer's house. He was formerly the richest man in the village, that is to say, he owned 20 _cho_ and was worth about 100,000 yen. Moved by the poverty of his neighbours, he devoted his substance to improving their condition. Now many of them are well off, the village has been "praised and rewarded"

by the prefecture for its "good farming and good morals," and the philanthropist is worth only 50,000 yen. Impressed by his unselfishness, the village has raised a great slab of stone in his honour.

I made enquiries continually about the influence exerted by priests. I was told of many "careless" priests, but also of others who delivered sermons of a practical sort. A few of the younger priests were described as "philosophical" and some preached "the kingdom of G.o.d is within you." Many people laid stress on the necessity for a better education of the priesthood and for combating superst.i.tion among the peasantry, though the schools had already had a powerful influence in shaking the faith of thousands of the common people in charms and suchlike. Many folk put up charms because it was the custom or to please their old parents or because it could do no harm.

I was told that the Government does not encourage the erection of new temples. Its notion is that it is better to maintain the existing temples adequately. When I went to see a gorgeous new temple, I found that official permission for its erection had been obtained because the figures, vessels and some of the fittings of an old and dilapidated temple were to be used in the new edifice. This temple was on a large tract of land which had recently been recovered from the sea. The building had cost between 80,000 and 90,000 yen. It stood on piles on rising ground and had a secondary purpose in that it offered a place of refuge to the settlers on the new land if the sea dike should break.

The founder of the temple was the man who had drained the land and established the colony. He had given an endowment of 500 yen a year, three-quarters of which was for the priest. This functionary had also an income of 150 yen from a _cho_ of land attached to the temple.

Further he received gifts of rice and vegetables. I noticed that the gifts of rice--acknowledged on a list hung up in his house--varied in quant.i.ty from four pecks to half a cupful. Probably the priest bought very little of anything. If he needed matting for his house, which was attached to the temple, or if he had to make a journey, the villagers saw that his requirements were met. And he was always getting presents of one kind or another. "A man says to the priest," I was told, "'This is too good for me; please accept it.'" The villagers on their side sat and smoked in one of the temple rooms and drank his reverence's tea for hours before and after service.[35]

The building of the temple was not only an act of piety but a work of commercial necessity. The colonists on the reclaimed land would never have settled there if there had not been a temple to hold them to the place and to provide burial rites for their old parents. Not all the people were of the same sect of Buddhism, but "they gradually came together." A third of what a tenant produced went for rent and another third for fertilisers, the remaining third being his own. The population was 1,800 in 300 families. The average area per family was 2 _cho_ and colonists were expected to start with about 200 yen of capital. Some unpromising tenants had been sent away and "some had left secretly." Half of the people were in debt to the landlord--the total indebtedness was about 15,000 yen--for the erection of houses and the purchase of implements and stock. The rate was 8 per cent. In the district 10 per cent. was quite usual and 12 per cent. by no means rare. The co-operative society lent at the daily rate of 2-1/2 sen per 100 yen.

The landlord told me that the sea dikes took two years to build and that most of the earth was carried by women, 5,000 of them. Their labour was cheap and the small quant.i.ties of earth which each woman brought at a time permitted of a better consolidation of an embankment that was 240 feet wide at the base. More than a million yen were laid out on the work. The reclaimed land was free of State taxes for half a century, but the landlord made a voluntary gift to the village of 2,000 yen a year. The yearly rent coming in was already nearly 56,000 yen. The cost of the management of the drained land and of repairs to the embankment, 20,000 yen a year, was just met by the profits of a fishpond. A valuable edible seaweed industry was carried on outside the sea dikes. The landlord mentioned that he had had great difficulty in overcoming the objections of his grandfather to the investment, but that eventually the old man got so much interested that at ninety-three he used to march about giving orders.

One day in the course of my journeying I was near a railway station where country people had a.s.sembled to watch the pa.s.sing of a train by which the Emperor was travelling. No one was permitted along the line except at specified points which were carefully watched. A young constable who wore a Russian war medal was opposite the spot where I stood. He politely asked me to keep one _shaku_ (foot) or so away from the paling. When someone's child pushed itself half-way through the paling the police instruction was, "Please keep back the little one for, if it should pa.s.s through, other children will no doubt wish to follow." A later request by the constable was to take off our hats and keep silence when he raised his hand on the approach of the Imperial train. We were further asked not to point at the Emperor and on no account to cry Banzai. (The j.a.panese shout _Banzai_ for the Emperor in his absence and cry _Banzai_ to victorious generals and admirals, but perfect silence is considered the most respectful way of greeting the Emperor himself.) The Imperial train, which was preceded by a pilot engine drawing a van full of rather anxious-looking police, slowed down on approaching the station so that everyone had a chance of seeing the Emperor, who was facing us. All the school children of the district had been marshalled where they could get a good view. The j.a.panese bow of greatest respect--it has been introduced since the Restoration, I was told--is an inclination of the head so slight that it does not prevent the person who bows seeing his superior. This bow when made by rows of people is impressive. Undoubtedly the crowd was moved by the sight of its sovereign. Not a few people held their hands together in front of them in an att.i.tude of devotion. The day before I had happened to see first a priest and then a professor examining a magazine which had a portrait of the Emperor as frontispiece. Both bowed slightly to the print. Coloured portraits of the Emperor and Empress are on sale in the shops, but in many cases there is a little square of tissue paper over the Imperial countenances.

FOOTNOTES:

[30] _Shoji_ are the screens which divide a room from the outside.

They are a dainty wooden framework of many divisions, each of which is covered by a sheet of thin white paper. The _shoji_ provide light and are never painted. The sliding doors between two rooms are _karakami (fusuma_ is a literary word). They are a wooden framework with thick paper or cloth on both sides of it and with paper packing between the layers. _Karakami_ are often decorated with writing or may be painted.

No light pa.s.ses through them.

[31] A writing or a picture on a long perpendicular strip of paper or silk or of paper mounted on silk, with rollers. The length is about three times the width, which is usually 1 ft. 3 in. or 1 ft. 10 in.

The _kakemono_ in the _tokonoma_ of tea-ceremony rooms is about 10 in.

wide.

[32] For budgets of large property owners, see Appendix III.

[33] There have been several serious tenants' demonstrations in Aichi during 1921. See Chapter XIX.

[34] Each Emperor receives on his succession a name which is applied to the period of his reign. The period of Mutsuhito's reign, 1868-1912, is called _Meiji_; that of the present Emperor _Taisho_.

Thus the year 1912 would be _Taisho_ I.

[35] It will be remembered that there is only one prefecture in which tea is not grown in larger or smaller areas, and that it is served economically without sugar or milk.

CHAPTER VI

BEFORE OKUNITAMA-NO-MIKO-NO-KAMI[36]

Nor do I see why we should take it for granted that their G.o.ds are unworthy of respect.--_Valerius_

In Aichi prefecture I was asked to plant trees (persimmons) in the grounds of three temples or shrines and on the land of several farmers. In an exposed position on a hill-top I found persimmons being grown on a system under which the landlord provided the land, trees and manures and the farmer the labour, and the produce was equally divided.

The cryptomeria at one of the shrines I visited were of great age. All of them had lost their tops by lightning. It cannot be easy for those who have never seen cryptomeria or the redwoods of California to realise the impression made by dark giant trees that have stood before some shrine for generations. At the approach to the shrine of which I speak there were venerable wooden statues. I recall one figure carved in wood as full of life as that of the famous Egyptian headman.

The aged chief priest, who was a.s.sisted by two younger priests, kindly invited me to take part in a s.h.i.+nto service. First, I ceremonially washed my hands and rinsed my mouth. Then, having ascended the steps, my shoes were removed for me so that my hands should not be defiled.

On entering the shrine I knelt opposite the young priests, one of whom brought me the usual evergreen bough with paper streamers. On receiving it I rose to my feet, pa.s.sed through the beautiful building and advanced to what I may call, for the lack of a more accurate term, the altar table. On this table, which, as is usual in s.h.i.+nto ceremonies, was of new white wood following the ancient design, I laid the offering. Then I bowed and gave the customary three smart hand-claps which summon the attention of the deity of the shrine, and bowed again. On returning to my former kneeling-place one of the priests offered me _sake_ and a small piece of dried fish in paper.[37] The chief priest was good enough to read and to hand to me an address headed, "Words of Congratulation to the Investigator,"

which may be Englished as follows:

"I, Yukimichi Otsu, the chief priest, speak most respectfully and reverently before the shrine of the august deity, Okunitama-no-miko-no-kami, and other deities here enshrined: Dr.

Robertson Scott, of England, is here this good day. He comes to see the things of j.a.pan under the governance of our gracious Emperor. I, having made myself quite pure and clean, open the door of gracious eyes that they may look upon those who are here. May Dr. Robertson Scott be protected during night and day, no accident happening wherever he may go. Dr. Robertson Scott goes everywhere in this country; he may cross a hundred rivers and pa.s.s over many hills. May there be no foundering of his boat, no stumbling of his horse.

Offering produce of land and sea, I say this most respectfully before the shrine."

After the shrine I visited a co-operative store, curiously reminiscent of many a similar rural enterprise I had seen in Denmark. Sugar, coa.r.s.er than anything sold at home, was dear. Half the price paid for sugar in j.a.pan is tax. I was informed that there were no fewer than 400 cooperative organisations in the prefecture.

[Ill.u.s.tration: AUTHOR QUESTIONING OFFICIALS--]

[Ill.u.s.tration: AND PLANTING COMMEMORATIVE TREES p. 145]

At several places, although the villagers were busy rice planting, the young men's a.s.sociation turned out. The young men were reinforced by reservists and came sharply to attention as our _kuruma_ (_jinrikisha_, usually pneumatic-tyred) pa.s.sed. Some of the villages we bowled through were off the ordinary track, and the older villagers observed the ancient custom of coming out from their houses or farm plots, dropping on their knees and bowing low as we pa.s.sed.[38] All over j.a.pan, a villager encountered on the road removed the towel from his head before bowing. If a cloak or outer coat was worn, it was taken off or the motion of taking it off was made. Frequently, in showery weather, cyclists who were wearing mackintoshes or capes, alighted and removed these outer garments before saluting.

[Ill.u.s.tration: RICE POLIs.h.i.+NG BY FOOT POWER. p. 78]

I saw a village which a few years ago had been "disorderly and poor"

and in continual friction with its landlord. Eventually this man realised his responsibility, and, inspired by Mr. Yamasaki, took the situation in hand. He talked in a straightforward way with his villagers, reduced a number of rents and spent money freely in ameliorative work. To-day the village is "remarkable for its good conduct" and the relation between landlord and tenant seems to be everything that can be desired. The landlord is not only the moving spirit of the co-operative store but has started a school for girls of from fifteen to twenty. They bring their own food but the schooling is free.

On the gables of one or two houses near the roof I noticed ventilators which were cut in the form of the Chinese ideograph which means water, a kind of charm against fire. At the door of one rather well-to-do peasant house I saw several paper charms against toothache. There was also an inscription intimating that the householder was a director of the co-operative society and another announcing that he was an expert in the application of the moxa.[39] Every house I went into had a collection of charms. One charm, a verse of poetry hung upside-down, as is the custom, was against ants. Another was understood to ensure the safe return of a straying cat.

In one house in the village my attention was drawn to the fact that the rice pot contained a large percentage of barley.

In two or three places I pa.s.sed pits for the excavation of lignite, which does not look unlike the wood taken out of bogs. A pit I stopped at was twenty-two fathoms deep. There were twenty miners at work and air was being pumped down.