A Fantasy of Far Japan Part 10

--'You may be sure it is a subject that will be taken up, when the semi-famine days come, and then, perhaps, your name will be remembered,'

remarked one of the young ladies.

--'No, I think not,' I replied. 'I believe, I shall be buried long before that, and my name too.'

--'Oh, don't say that,' broke in another of the young ladies.

Dessert was now served, in the course of which I remarked:

--'I will tell you an incident which will probably interest you. I was spending a week-end with the Dake and d.u.c.h.ess of Hamilton, who have always been very courteous to me. One morning, at the breakfast table, I noticed the d.u.c.h.ess cut an apple, and gave it to her young son without peeling. This rather struck me, so I asked her reason, when she told me that her medical adviser had instructed her to do so, because the essence of the nouris.h.i.+ng part of the fruit was contained just under the skin, so that it was better not to remove the skin. It was quite a relief to me (for we men, and especially myself, often find it troublesome to pare fruit). Now I could eat fruit without paring the skin unconcernedly, and should any onlooker laugh at me, or ask the reason, I could lecture him from the point of medical science.'

--'You always view things from a point of vantage,' interposed the younger daughter.

We went into the garden, and took our coffee there in a shaded corner.

Meanwhile I noticed a little puppy looking up at us from a corner of the turf. It did not move, and I soon discovered it was porcelain.

--'Ah, I see, I thought it was a live dog when I was here last. It was towards evening, just as I was leaving when I noticed it.'

At this moment a servant brought in a tortoise: it was a very large one and quite tame. The d.u.c.h.ess fed it with lettuce, saying:

--'This is my pet, and I am very fond of it. It prefers lettuce to any other vegetable.'

--'I have seen many tortoises,' I said, 'but this is the first time I have seen one as a pet. In j.a.pan, one sees in the ponds or small lakes round the temples, hundreds, nay, thousands, floating in the water, or lying on rocks or boards basking in the sun. Their preservation is chiefly due to the customary kindness and religious sentiment of the j.a.panese.'

I then told the d.u.c.h.ess what I knew of tortoises and their habits, remarking that those amphibians lived more in the water than on land, and it was necessary for them to be put in the water at least occasionally.

And so the soft summer evening glided away as we pa.s.sed from one topic of conversation to another.

--'Do you find European languages very difficult to learn?' asked one of the young ladies. 'I suppose there is no similarity between our language and yours?'

--'None whatever,' I replied, 'and we certainly find them very difficult to acquire. The difference between the various European languages might perhaps be compared to the difference between a horse and a mule, while the difference between j.a.panese and the European languages would certainly not be closer in comparison than a horse to an ox. That is to say, the former differs only in species, and the latter in kind. Hence you can easily see how much more difficult it is for an Oriental to learn any European language, than a European to learn a second European language. Even amongst the European languages, there are, as you know, many idioms differing one from the other, and consequently difficult to understand. Only the other day I was not a little amused at a French translation of the English sentence "hold good" in the sense that "one thing had an advantage over another." You can imagine how much more difficult it is for a j.a.panese to know the value of every word, not to say an idiom, of a European language. Once in j.a.pan, I was watching some European and j.a.panese children playing Hide-and-Seek together. The European children were making use of the j.a.panese words meaning "Hot and Cold" in place of "Far and Near." I could only make out what they meant after I had carefully watched the game. I am sure we commit similar errors every day when speaking in a foreign language. More than thirty years ago a party of j.a.panese amba.s.sadors, including the present Marquis Ito, whom you know, and their suites, made a round trip through America and Europe: perhaps the duke remembers it. The mayor of a large manufacturing town in England, which a portion of the party were visiting, invited the visitors to the play.

The party was divided into two and occupied two boxes opposite each other. The mayor and his wife were in a box and their daughter in the other. An Englishman who was in the mayor's box remarked to a j.a.panese guest, of an eminent fellow-guest seated beside the young lady opposite, "Monsieur K. must be very happy," meaning, no doubt, to pay a compliment indirectly to the mayor and his wife; but the j.a.panese to whom the remark was addressed understood but little English and replied: "K. must be quite ashamed."

--'It spoilt everything. In our language the word meaning "shame" and "bashfulness" are identical and the sense is only modified by a slight difference in construction. A somewhat similar example is the great difference in the meaning between the phrases _fache contre_ and _fache de_. The results of the misconstruction, as may be imagined, were rather serious. It was only made good by another j.a.panese who made a timely explanation. I heard this incident direct from that gentleman who made the explanation. That incident clearly demonstrates how difficult and delicate it is to express oneself in a tongue other than one's own.'

--'Exactly,' interposed the young n.o.bleman. 'It is always necessary to make much allowance for a foreigner, and to make a guess at his meaning.'

--'The jiujitsu is being exhibited once more in France,' said the d.u.c.h.ess. 'I have seen several advertis.e.m.e.nts in to-day's papers, one of which states that a physician asked the exhibitor to demonstrate on him, and afterwards declared it quite scientific. People in France know very little of that art.'

--'No wonder,' I answered; 'even in England, where jiujitsu is so much spoken of, it was very little known until quite recently. Not many years ago a lecture on the subject, accompanied by some practical demonstrations, was delivered at a literary society, by a j.a.panese gentleman, a.s.sisted by another j.a.panese. On that occasion a weekly paper of high reputation commented upon the art, saying that there was nothing in it. The writer added that jiujitsu was exactly the same as the English wrestling, with a few different tricks.'

--'Is there much difference between the two?'

--'Yes, there is a great difference. Of course the combatants in both exercises strive to get the upper hand of each other, but the great difference is that the wrestling relies chiefly on strength, whilst jiujitsu depends on all sorts of tricks, based upon a careful study of physical organism, and therefore physical strength may be said to be of little value, nay, in truth, it uses the strength of the opponent against himself. We, in j.a.pan, have also a method of compet.i.tion resembling the wrestling of the West, and we apply to that the Western name "wrestling." We do not like our jiujitsu to be confounded with it, though Western people sometimes call it by that name. When our jiujitsu is called "wrestling," it hurts our feelings a little.'

--'Why, how is that?' demanded the d.u.c.h.ess.

--'Well, nothing very serious, but the reason is this: jiujitsu has always been regarded in j.a.pan as an art chiefly practised by men of the higher cla.s.ses. It has never been a profession, still less a public show, and the reason why now and then the art is made an object of exhibition in a public hall of the Western towns, is only an outcome of the altered conditions of the time. On the other hand, the wrestling which we call Sumoo has always been a profession and for public entertainment for many centuries.'

--'I see.'

--'It must, however, be understood that even wrestling is not considered a low profession, and though it is exhibited to the public, is very different from other kinds of shows--those, for instance, given at a fete. Wrestling in j.a.pan has a very remote origin. In its earlier stage it was not a profession, it was one of the military sports, but as time went on it became a regular profession. Tokio is the centre of the Wrestling a.s.sociation, and therefore it has the best wrestlers. Osaka comes next. The wrestlers are brought up and trained from boyhood: promising youths are picked up from all parts of the country by the princ.i.p.al wrestlers and taken into their private halls. There are two princ.i.p.al exhibitions of ten days, one early in the year and the other early in the summer, held in Tokio, when the rank and order of every member of the a.s.sociation is determined by compet.i.tion. In the intervals they subdivide themselves into several parties and go about the country exhibiting their art. Men are very fond of seeing the wrestling, though very few women care to see it; in fact, it is only of recent date that one observes any women at all at such exhibitions, and those only of indifferent standing. It is not considered good taste. The last point excepted, wrestling in j.a.pan resembles somewhat a bull-fight in Spain. I do not mean the sport itself, but in the sense of its being a national inst.i.tution. From this fact you may see that we have more and better wrestlers than you in the West. Sometimes Western wrestlers come to j.a.pan and challenge our wrestlers, but they are no match for ours. It is not worth boasting about, I merely state the fact. Of course, there is also much wrestling in country parts, and young people often perform, but they are, after all, only amateurs. As to jiujitsu, the art has been studied by the Samurai in a similar manner to fencing, with no professional performance or public show. Hence a great difference in the social position of jiujitsu experts and wrestlers. Nevertheless, the wrestlers maintain some trace of their ancient standing, for their position even now is regarded as superior to actors or the geisha, though good actors are rapidly gaining a social position.'

--'Is jiujitsu as old as wrestling?'

--'No, it is not. Jiujitsu is not quite three hundred years old, since it has been systematised into an art. There are many schools, I mean styles, of jiujitsu, and naturally some are older than others. They differ somewhat from one another, the difference having arisen chiefly from the endeavour of the founders to make improvements.'

--'But what is the real purport of jiujitsu?'

--'The masters call it an art of self-defence. You see, our Samurai do not like to be arrogant or offensive to other people, and therefore they profess to use jiujitsu only when attacked, hence the name of self-defence, and this point is one of their ideals; but as a matter of fact, it is an art that can be used for attack equally well, and therefore may be called an art both offensive and defensive. The advantage of knowing this art is that we can throw an opponent without hurting or killing him, because it requires no weapons, not even a stick. It is done by catching hold of various parts of the opponent by the hands. Of course, there are many tricks, and therefore, if both parties be equally efficient in the art, the combat becomes very complicated. The term jiujitsu literally means "soft art," or an art accomplished by "sleight of body," as some people put it, so much so that one school is called "The Willow Mind Style." We have a saying, "A willow knows not a breaking by snow," meaning that a slender branch of a willow is stronger than a branch of a robust tree like the pine, an a.n.a.logy showing that flexibility is often stronger than stubbornness.

'From all this it may well be imagined that a slender and small man, without any perceptible physical strength, can often become a great master of the art. Once at Shanghai, a j.a.panese who understood jiujitsu well was attacked by a group of Chinese roughs in the middle of a bridge, but he threw them all, one after the other, since when no Chinaman attempts to attack a j.a.panese, concluding wisely that we may all be masters of the art. Once in England--I believe it was in Newcastle--a number of roughs attacked a j.a.panese; he threw them all, one after the other, and went off. The roughs were taken into custody by constables, when they confessed that they would not have attacked the man had they known he was a j.a.panese, and they believed that all j.a.panese knew the "devilish trick of wrestling," as they called it. You now see the nature of our jiujitsu, I suppose.'

--'And suppose your best wrestler and a jiujitsu man encountered?' asked one of the young ladies.

--'A wrestler is no match for a jiujitsu man. A wrestler who can lift up a big stone, or catch hold of a bull by its horns, would be easily beaten by a youth of fourteen scarcely able to lift a small cannon ball, provided the boy were well trained in jiujitsu. In wrestling, therefore, all jiujitsu tricks are forbidden. This will explain why no Occidental, even a champion wrestler, has ever succeeded in defeating a j.a.panese jiujitsu man. Perhaps you remember one of our jiujitsu men, who is in England, won the Gold Champions.h.i.+p Cup last year, and yet in j.a.pan he is not considered a first-cla.s.s man in the art. I do not, however, wish to boast of the matter. Even amongst the most undeveloped tribes one sometimes sees the greatest possible skill shown in such matters, especially in the use of the bow and arrow. I hear American Indians shoot fishes in the rivers with arrows, and that too not by aiming direct, but by sending arrows up in the air and letting them fall in the water. They do not shoot direct, because, as you know, the curve of sight in water is very different from that in plain air.'

--'I understand that,' said the d.u.c.h.ess, 'but your jiujitsu seems to be very different from mere skill. It is the result of a long and deliberate study of physical organism, systematised upon a scientific basis, as the physician in the paper says.'

--'Maybe,' I answered.

--'But what is that book which you have brought with you?' asked the d.u.c.h.ess.

--'It is the book I promised you the other day. It is the _Kokkwa_, a monthly on art. It contains, as you see, very good photogravures and chromographs of our old _objets d'art_.'

So saying, I handed the book to the d.u.c.h.ess, and continued:

--'You told me the other day, _apropos_ of the conversation of the Marchioness Vivastine and myself, that you were also an admirer of our art, and that you appreciated Utamaro and Hokusai. No doubt they were great artists, and I am delighted, of course, with your appreciation, but we should be sorry if they stood to you for the best that we can do in art. This monthly will give you a good idea why I say so.'

All present were interested in the book, and its pages were gently turned over one by one. Presently the d.u.c.h.ess remarked:

--'Do you mean to say that the originals of these ill.u.s.trations date back thirteen centuries?'

--'Indeed, I do,' I replied.

--'And that these prints were really made in j.a.pan?' said another.

--'Yes, surely.'

--'What a softness and feeling here! Look!' the d.u.c.h.ess went on; 'and how this part resembles cla.s.sic Italian.'

--'The art of printing,' I said, 'is well developed in j.a.pan. The other day I showed a copy of the _Financial and Economical Annual_ of j.a.pan to a Frenchman, and he thought the printing was very neat and clear, and could scarcely believe that the book had been printed in my country.'

--'I can quite realise the scepticism of that person; but can you give me a rough idea of your ideal of pictures?'

--'That's a rather difficult question. In your sacred book you have a picture where Christ talks about "lilies." He stands in a field, utters His words, pointing to some pure white lilies blooming, but not in abundance, in the field. There is a perfect picture, the symbolic meaning of the pure white flowers standing out vividly before your eyes.

In another place you see Christ entering a boat on a lake. There is another picture. A lake calm and serene, surrounded by undulating hills, perhaps with the shadow of the hills and trees reflected on the surface of the water. There one or two fishermen handle oars in a fantastic boat. A sage calls them from the sh.o.r.e to come to Him. A perfect landscape! An immense expanse and an eternal stillness of the universe almost unconsciously arises before the mind's eye of the onlooker. Such is, then, a type of the ideals of our pictorial worlds.'

--'I can well imagine it,' said the young n.o.bleman. 'Your chromographs of even small objects, such as picture postcards, are very fine and artistic and, at the same time, so simple. Look at ours: they have neither feeling nor taste, and usually are showy and gorgeous, and, indeed, often vulgar.'