Evolution Of The Japanese, Social And Psychic Part 19

XXVII

SOME RELIGIOUS CONCEPTIONS

The conceptions of the common people in regard to deity are chaotic.

They believe in local spirits who are to be wors.h.i.+ped; some of these are of human origin, and some antedate all human life. The G.o.ds of the s.h.i.+nto pantheon are "yaoyorodzu" in number, eight thousand myriads; yet in their "norito," or prayer rituals, reference is made not only to the "yaoyorodzu" who live in the air, but also to the "yaoyorodzu"

who live on earth, and even to the "yaoyorodzu" who live beneath the earth. If we add these together there must be at least twenty-four thousand myriads of G.o.ds. These of course include sun, moon, stars, and all the forces of nature, as well as the spirits of men. Popular Buddhism accepts the G.o.ds of s.h.i.+nto and brings in many more, wors.h.i.+ping not only the Buddha and his immediate "rakan," disciples, five hundred in number, but numberless abstractions of ideal qualities, such as the varieties of Kwannon (Avelokitesvara, G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses of mercy), Amida (Amitabha, the ideal of boundless light), Jizo (Ks.h.i.+tigarbha, the helper of those in trouble, lost children, and pregnant women), Emma O (Yama-raja, ruler of Buddhist h.e.l.ls), Fudo (Achala, the "immovable," "unchangeable"), and many others. Popular Buddhism also wors.h.i.+ps every man dead or living who has become a "hotoke," that is, has attained Buddhahood and has entered Nirvana.

The G.o.ds of j.a.pan are innumerable in theory and mult.i.tudinous in practice. Not only are there G.o.ds of goodness but also G.o.ds of l.u.s.t and of evil, to whom robbers and harlots may pray for success and blessing.

In the j.a.panese pantheon there is no supreme G.o.d, such, for instance, as the Roman Jupiter, or the Greek Chronos, nor is there a thoroughgoing divine hierarchy.

According to the common view (although there is no definite thought about it), the idea seems to be that the universe with its laws and nature were already existent before the G.o.ds appeared on the scene; they created specific places, such as j.a.pan, out of already existing material. Neither in s.h.i.+nto nor in popular Buddhism is the conception formed of a primal fount of all being with its nature and laws. In this respect j.a.panese thought is like all primitive religious thought.

There is no word in the j.a.panese language corresponding to the English term "G.o.d." The nearest approach to it are the Confucian terms "Jo-tei," "Supreme Emperor," "Ten," "Heaven," and "Ten-tei," "Heavenly Emperor"; but all of these terms are Chinese, they are therefore of late appearance in j.a.pan, and represent rather conceptions of educated and Confucian cla.s.ses than the ideas of the ma.s.ses. These terms approach closely to the idea of monotheism; but though the doctrine may be discovered lying implicit in these words and ideas it was never developed. Whether "Heaven" was to be conceived as a person, or merely as fate, was not clearly thought out; some expressions point in one direction while others point in the other.

I may here call attention to a significant fact in the history of recent Christian work in j.a.pan. Although the serious-minded j.a.panese is first attracted to Christianity by the character of its ethical thought--so much resembling, also so much surpa.s.sing that of Confucius, it is none the less true that monotheism is another powerful source of attraction. I have been repeatedly told by Christians that the first religious satisfaction they ever experienced was upon their discovery of monotheism. How it affected Dr. Neesima, readers of his life cannot have overlooked. He is a type of mult.i.tudes. In the earlier days of Christian work many felt that they had become Christians upon rejection of polytheism and acceptance of monotheism. And in truth they were so far forth Christian, although they knew little of Christ, and felt little need of His help as a personal Saviour. The weakness of the Church in recent years is due in part, I doubt not, to the acceptance into its members.h.i.+p of numbers who were, properly speaking, monotheistic, but not in the complete sense of the term Christian. Their discovery later that more was needed than the intellectual acceptance of monotheism ere they could be considered, or even be, truly "Christian," has led many such "believers" to abandon their relations with the Church. This, while on many accounts to be regretted, was nevertheless inevitable. The bare acceptance of the monotheistic idea does not secure that transformation of heart and produce that warmth of living faith which are essential elements in the altruistic life demanded of the Christian.

Nor is it difficult to understand why monotheism has proved such an attraction to the j.a.panese when we consider that through it they first recognized a unity in the universe and even in their own lives.

Nature, and human nature took on an intelligibility which they never had had under the older philosophy. History likewise was seen to have a meaning and an order, to say nothing of a purpose, which the non-Christian faiths did not themselves see and could not give to their devotees. Furthermore the monotheistic idea furnished a satisfactory background and explanation for the exact sciences. If there is but one G.o.d, who is the fount and cause of all being, it is easy to see why the truths of science should be universal and absolute, rather than local and diverse, as they would be were they subject to the jurisdiction of various local deities. The universality of nature's laws was inconceivable under polytheism. Monotheism thus found a ready access to many minds. Polytheism pure and simple is the belief of no educated j.a.panese to-day. He is a monist of some kind or other. Philosophic Buddhism always was monistic, but not monotheistic.

Thinking Confucianists were also monistic. But neither philosophic Buddhism nor Confucianism emphasized their monistic elements; they did not realize the importance to popular thought of monistic conceptions.

But possessing these ideas, and being now in contact with aggressive Christian monotheism, they are beginning to emphasize this truth.

As j.a.pan has had no adequate conception of G.o.d, her conception of man has been of necessity defective. Indeed, the cause of her inadequate conception of G.o.d is due in large measure to her inadequate conception of man, which we have seen to be a necessary consequence of the primitive communal order. Since, however, we have already given considerable attention to j.a.pan's inadequate conception of man, we need do no more than refer to it in this connection.

Corresponding to her imperfect doctrines of G.o.d and of man is her doctrine of sin. That the j.a.panese sense of sin is slight is a fact generally admitted. This is the universal experience of the missionary. Many j.a.panese with whom I have conversed seem to have no consciousness of it whatever. Indeed, it is a difficult matter to speak of to the j.a.panese, not only because of the etiquette involved, but for the deeper reason of the deficiency of the language. There exists no term in j.a.panese which corresponds to the Christian word "sin." To tell a man he is a sinner without stopping to explain what one means would be an insult, for he is not conscious of having broken any of the laws of the land. Yet too much stress must not be laid on this argument from the language, for the Buddhistic vocabulary furnishes a number of terms which refer to the crime of transgressing not the laws of the land, but those of Buddha.

In s.h.i.+nto, sin is little, if anything, more than physical impurity.

Although Buddhism brought a higher conception of religion for the initiated few, it gave no help to the ignorant mult.i.tudes, rather it riveted their superst.i.tions upon them. It spoke of law indeed, and l.u.s.t and sin; and of dreadful punishments for sin; but when it explained sin it made its nature too shallow, being merely the result of mental confusion; salvation, then, became simply intellectual enlightenment; it also made the consequences of sin too remote and the escape from them too easy. The doctrine of "Don," suddenness of salvation, the many external and entirely formal rites, short pilgrimages to famous shrines, the visiting of some neighboring temple having miniature models of all the other efficacious shrines throughout the land, the wearing of charms, the buying of "o fuda,"

and even the single utterance of certain magic prayers, were taught to be quite enough for the salvation of the common man from the worst of sins. Where release is so easily obtained, the estimate of the heinousness of sin is correspondingly slight. How different was the consciousness of sin and the conception of its nature developed by the Jewish wors.h.i.+p with its system of sin offerings! Life for life.

Whatever we may think of the efficacy of offering an animal as an expiation for sin, it certainly contributed far more toward deepening the sense of sin than the rites in common practice among the Buddhists. So far as I know, human or animal sacrifice has never been known in j.a.pan.

In response to the not unlikely criticism that sacrifice is the result of profound sense of sin and not its cause, I reply that it is both.

The profound sense is the experience of the few at the beginning; the practice educates the mult.i.tudes and begets that feeling in the nation.

Ceremonial purification is an old rite in j.a.pan. In this connection we naturally think of the "Chozu-bachi" which may be found before every s.h.i.+nto shrine, containing the "holy water" with which to rinse the mouth and wash the hands. Pilgrims and wors.h.i.+pers invariably make use of this water, wiping their hands on the towels provided for the purpose by the faithful. To our eyes, few customs in j.a.pan are more conducive to the spread of impurity and infectious disease than this rite of ceremonial purification. No better means could be devised for the wide dissemination of the skin diseases which are so common. The reformed religion of New j.a.pan--whether Buddhist, s.h.i.+nto, or Christian--could do few better services for the people at large than by entering on a crusade against this religious rite. It could and should preach the doctrine that sin and defilement of the hearts are not removed by such an easy method as the rite implies and the ma.s.ses believe. If retained as a symbol, the purification rite should at least be reformed as a practice.

Whether the use of purificatory water is to be traced to the sense of moral or spiritual sin is doubtful to my mind; in view of the general nature of primitive s.h.i.+nto. The interpretation given the system by W.E. Griffis, in his volume on the "Religions of j.a.pan," is suggestive, but in view of all the facts does not seem conclusive.

"One of the most remarkable features of s.h.i.+nto" he writes, "was the emphasis laid on cleanliness. Pollution was calamity, defilement was sin, and physical purity at least was holiness. Everything that could in any way soil the body or clothing was looked upon with abhorrence and detestation."[CE] The number of specifications given in this connection is worthy of careful perusal. But it is a strange nemesis of history that the sense of physical pollution should develop a religious rite fitted to become the very means for the dissemination of physical pollution and disease.

j.a.panese personal cleanliness is often connected in the descriptions of foreigners with ceremonial purification, but the facts are much exaggerated. In contrast to nearly if not quite all non-Christian peoples, the j.a.panese are certainly astonis.h.i.+ngly cleanly in their habits. But it is wholly unnecessary to exaggerate the facts. The "tatami," or straw-mats, an inch or more in thickness, give to the room an appearance of cleanliness which usually belies the truth. The mult.i.tudes of fleas that infest the normal j.a.panese home are convincing proof of the real state of the "tatami." There are those who declare that a j.a.panese crowd has the least offensive odor of any people in the world. One writer goes so far as to state that not only is there no unpleasant odor whatever, but that there is even a pleasant intimation of lavender about their exhalations. This exactly contradicts my experience. Not to mention the offensive oil with which all women anoint their hair to give it l.u.s.ter and stiffness, the j.a.panese habit of wearing heavy cotton wadded clothing, with little or no underwear, produces the inevitable result in the atmosphere of any closed room. In cold weather I always find it necessary to throw open all the doors and windows of my study or parlor, after Bible cla.s.ses of students or even after the visits of cultured and well-to-do guests. That the j.a.panese bathe so frequently is certainly an interesting fact and a valuable feature of their civilization; it indicates no little degree of cleanliness; but for that, their clothing would become even more disagreeable than it is, and the evil effect upon themselves of wearing soiled garments would be much greater. In point of fact, their frequent baths do not wholly remove the need of change in clothing. To a j.a.panese the size of the weekly wash of a foreigner seems extravagant.

As to the frequent bathing, its cleanliness is exaggerated by Western thought, for instead of supplying fresh water for each person, the j.a.panese public baths consist usually of a large tank used by mult.i.tudes in common. Clean water is allowed for the face, but the main tank is supplied with clean hot water only once each day. In k.u.mamoto, schoolgirls living with us invariably asked permission to go to the bath early in the day that they might have the first use of the water. They said that by night it was so foul they could not bear to use it. Each hotel has its own private bath for guests; this is usually heated in the afternoon, and the guests take their baths from four o'clock on until midnight, the waiting girls of the hotel using it last. My only experience with public baths has been mentioned already. At first glance the conditions were rea.s.suring, for a large stream of hot water was running in constantly, and the water in the tank itself was quite transparent. But on entering I was surprised, not to say horrified, to see floating along the margin of the tank and on the bottom of it suggestive proofs of previous bathers. On inquiry I learned that the tank was never washed out, nor the water entirely discharged at a single time; the natural overflow along the edge of the tank being considered sufficient. In the interest of accuracy it is desirable to add that New j.a.pan is making progress in the matter of public baths. In some of the larger cities, I am told, provision is sometimes made for entirely fresh water for each bather in separate bathrooms.

In view of these facts--as unpleasant to mention as they are essential to a faithful description of the habits of the people--it is clear that the "horror of physical impurity" has not been, and is not now, so great as some would have us believe. Whatever may have been the condition in ancient times, it would be difficult to believe that the rite of ceremonial purification could arise out of the present practices and habits of thought. One may venture the inquiry whether the custom of using the "purificatory water" may not have been introduced from abroad.

But whatever be the present thought of the people, on the general subject of sin, it may be shown to be due to the prevailing system of ideas, moral and religious, rather than to the inherent racial character. In an interesting article by Mr. G. Takahas.h.i.+ on the "Past, Present, and Future of Christianity in j.a.pan" I find the statement that the preaching of the monks who came to j.a.pan in the sixteenth century was of such a nature as to produce a very deep consciousness of sin among the converts. "The Christians or martyrs repeatedly cried out 'we miserable sinners,' 'Christ died for us,' etc., as their letters abundantly prove. It was because of this that their consciences were aroused by the burning words of Christ, and kept awake by means of contrition and confession." Among modern Christians the sense of sin is much more clear and p.r.o.nounced than among the unconverted. Individual instances of extreme consciousness of sin are not unknown, especially under the earlier Protestant preaching. If the Christians of the last decade have less sense of sin, it is due to the changed character of recent preaching, in consequence of the changed conception of Christianity widely accepted in Protestant lands. Who will undertake to say that Christians in New England of the nineteenth century have the same oppressive sense of sin that was customary in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries? The sense of sin is due more to the character of the dominant religious ideas of the age than to brain structure or to race nature. I cannot agree with Mr.

Takahas.h.i.+ that "To be religious one needs a Semitic tinge of mind." It is not a question of mind, of race nature, but of dominant ideas.

In this connection I may refer to an incident that came under my notice some years ago. A young man applied for members.h.i.+p in the k.u.mamoto Church, who at one time had been a student in one of my Bible cla.s.ses. I had not known that he had received any special help from his study with me, until I heard his statement as to how he had discovered his need of a Saviour, and had found that need satisfied in Christ. In his statement before the examining committee of the church, he said that when he first read the thirteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians, he was so impressed with its beauty as a poem that he wrote it out entire on one of the fusuma (light paper doors) of his room, and each morning, as he arose, he read it. This practice continued several weeks. Then, as we continued our study of the Bible, we took up the third chapter of John, and when he came to the sixteenth verse, he was so impressed with its statement that he wrote that beside the poem from Corinthians, and read them together.

Gradually this daily reading, together with the occasional sermons and other Christian addresses which he heard at the Boys' School, led him to desire to secure for himself the love described by Paul, and to know more vitally the love of G.o.d described by John. It occurred to him, that, to secure these ends, he should pray. Upon doing so he said that, for the first time in his life, his unworthiness and his really sinful nature overwhelmed him. This was, of course, but the beginning of his Christian life. He began then to search the Scriptures in earnest, and with increasing delight. It was not long before he wished to make public confession of his faith, and thus identify himself with the Christian community. This brief account of the way in which this young man was brought to Christ ill.u.s.trates a good many points, but that for which I have cited it is the testimony it bears to the fact that under similar circ.u.mstances the human heart undergoes very much the same religious experience, whatever be the race or nationality of the individual.

In regard to the future life, s.h.i.+nto has little specific doctrine. It certainly implies the continued existence of the soul after death, as its ancestral wors.h.i.+p shows, but its conception as to the future state is left vague in the extreme. Confucius purposely declined to teach anything on this point, and, in part, for this reason, it has been maintained that Confucianism cannot properly be called a religion.

Buddhism brought to j.a.pan an elaborate system of eschatological ideas, and so far as the common people of j.a.pan have any conception of the future life, it may be attributed to Buddhistic teachings. Into their nature I need not inquire at any length. According to popular Buddhism, the future world, or more properly speaking, worlds (for there are ten of them, into any one of which a soul may be born either immediately or in the course of its future transmigrations), does not differ in any vital way from the present world. It is a world of material blessings or woes; the successive stages or worlds are graded one above the other in fantastic ways. Salvation consists in pa.s.sing to higher grades of life, the final or perfect stage being paradise, which, once attained, can never be lost. Transmigration is universal, the period of life in each world being determined by the merits and demerits of the individual soul.

Here we must consider two widely used terms "ingwa" and "mei." The first of these is Buddhistic and the other Confucianistic; though differing much in origin and meaning, yet in the end they amount to much the same thing. "Ingwa" is the law of cause and effect. According to the Buddhistic teaching, however, the "in," or cause, is in one world, while the "gwa," or effect, is in the other. The suffering, for instance, or any misfortune that overtakes one in this present life, is the "gwa" or effect of what was done in the previous, and is thus inevitable. The individual is working off in this life the "gwa" of his last life, and he is also working up the "in" of the next He is thus in a kind of vise. His present is absolutely determined for him by his past, and in turn is irrevocably fixing his future. Such is the Buddhistic "wheel of the law." The common explanation of misfortune, sickness, or disease, or any calamity, is that it is the result of "ingwa," and that there is, therefore, no help for it. The paralyzing nature of this conception on the development of character, or on activity of any kind, is apparent not only theoretically but actually.

As an escape from the inexorable fatality of this scheme of thought, the Buddhist faith of the common people has resorted to magic. Magic prayers, consisting of a few mystic syllables of whose meaning the wors.h.i.+per may be quite ignorant, are the means for overcoming the inexorableness of "ingwa," both for this life and the next. "Namu Amida Butsu," "Namu Myo Ho Ren Ge Kyo," "Namu Hen Jo Kongo," are the most common of such magic formulae. These prayers are heard on the lips of tens of thousands of pious pilgrims, not only at the temples, but as they pa.s.s along the highways. It is believed that each repet.i.tion secures its reward. Popular Buddhism's appeal to magic was not only winked at by philosophical Buddhism, but it was encouraged. Magic was justified by religious philosophy, and many a "hoben," "pious device,"

for saving the ignorant was invented by the priesthood. It will be apparent that while Buddhism has in certain respects a vigorous system of punishment for sin, yet its method of relief is such that the common people can gain only the most shallow and superficial views of salvation. Buddhism has not served to deepen the sense of responsibility, nor helped to build up character. That the more serious-minded thinkers of the nation have, as a rule, rejected Buddhism is not strange.

One point of great interest for us is the fact that this eschatological and soteriological system was imported, and is not the spontaneous product of j.a.pan. The wide range of national religious characteristics thus clearly traceable to Buddhistic influence shows beyond doubt how large a part of a nation's character is due to the system of thought that for one reason or another prevails, rather than to the essential race character.

The other term mentioned above, "mei," literally means "command" or "decree"; but while the English terms definitely imply a real being who decides, decrees, and commands, the term "mei" is indeterminate on this point. It is frequently joined to the word "Ten," or Heaven; "Ten-mei," Heaven's decree, seeming to imply a personality in the background of the thought. Yet, as I have already pointed out, it is only implied; in actual usage it means the fate decreed by Heaven; that is, fated fate, or absolute fate. The Chinese and the j.a.panese alike failed to inquire minutely as to the implication of the deepest conceptions of their philosophy. But "mei" is commonly used entirely unconnected with "Ten," and in this case its best translation into English is probably "fate." In this sense it is often used. Unlike Buddhism, however, Confucianism provided no way of escape from "mei"

except moral conduct. One of its important points of superiority was its freedom from appeal to magic in any form, and its reliance on sincerity of heart and correctness of conduct.

Few foreigners have failed to comment on the universal use by the j.a.panese of the phrase "s.h.i.+kataga nai," "it can't be helped." The ready resignation to "fate," as they deem it, even in little things about the home and in the daily life, is astonis.h.i.+ng to Occidentals.

Where we hold ourselves and each other to sharp personal responsibility, the sense of subjection to fate often leads them to condone mistakes with the phrase "s.h.i.+kataga nai."

But this characteristic is not peculiar to j.a.pan. China and India are likewise marked by it. During the famines in India, it was frequently remarked how the Hindus would settle down to starve in their huts in submission to fate, where Westerners would have been doing something by force, fighting even the decrees of heaven, if needful. But it is important to note that this characteristic in j.a.pan is undergoing rapid change. The spirit of absolute submission, so characteristic of the common people of Old j.a.pan, is pa.s.sing away and self-a.s.sertion is taking its place. Education and developing intelligence are driving out the fear of fate. Had our estimate of the j.a.panese race character been based wholly on the history of Old j.a.pan, it might have been easy to conclude that the spirit of submission to rulers and to fate was a national characteristic due to racial nature; but every added year of New j.a.pan shows how erroneous that view would have been. Thus we see again that the characteristics of j.a.pan, Old and New, are not due to race nature, but to the prevailing civilization in the broadest sense of the term. The religious characteristics of a people depend primarily on the dominant religious ideas, not on the inherent religious nature.

XXVIII

SOME RELIGIOUS PRACTICES

Among the truly religious sentiments of the j.a.panese are those of loyalty and filial piety. Having already given them considerable attention, we need not delay long upon them here. The point to be emphasized is that these two principles are exalted into powerful religious sentiments, which have permeated and dominated the entire life of the nation. Not only were they at the root of courage, of fidelity, of obedience, and of all the special virtues of Old j.a.pan, but they were also at the root of the larger part of her religion.

These emotions, sentiments, and beliefs have built 190,000 s.h.i.+nto shrines. Loyalty to the daimyo was the vital part of the religion of the past, as loyalty to the Emperor is the vital part of the popular religion of to-day. Next to loyalty came filial piety; it not only built the cemeteries, but also maintained G.o.d-shelves and family ancestral wors.h.i.+p throughout the centuries. One of the first questions which many an inquirer about Christianity has put to me is as to the way we treat our parents living and dead, and the tombs and memories of our ancestors. These two religious sentiments of loyalty and filial piety were essential elements of primitive s.h.i.+nto. The imported religions, particularly Confucianism and Christianity, served to strengthen them. In view of the indubitable religious nature of these two sentiments it is difficult to see how anyone can deny the name of religion to the religions that inculcate them, s.h.i.+nto and Confucianism. It shows how defective is the current conception of the real nature of religion.

Despite the reality of these religious, sentiments, however, many things are done in j.a.pan quite opposed to them. Of course this is so.

These violations spring from irreligion, and irreligion is found in every land. Furthermore, many things done in the name of loyalty and piety seem to us Westerners exceedingly whimsical and illogical. Deeds which to us seem disloyal and unfilial receive no rebuke. Filial piety often seems to us more active toward the dead than toward the living.

Closely connected with loyalty and filial piety, and in part their expression, is one further religious sentiment, namely, grat.i.tude. In his chapter in "Kokoro" "About Ancestor-Wors.h.i.+p," Mr. Hearn makes some pertinent remarks as to the nature of s.h.i.+nto. "Foremost among the moral sentiments of s.h.i.+nto is that of loving grat.i.tude to the past."

This he attributes to the fact that "To j.a.panese thought the dead are not less real than the living. They take part in the daily life of the people, sharing the humblest sorrows and the humblest joys ... and they are universally thought of as finding pleasure in the offerings made to them or the honors conferred upon them." There is much truth in these statements, though I by no means share the opinion that in connection with the j.a.panese belief in the dead there "have been evolved moral sentiments wholly unknown to Western civilization," or that their "loving grat.i.tude to the past" is "a sentiment having no real correspondence in our own emotional life." Mr. Hearn may be presumed to be speaking for himself in these matters; but he certainly does not correctly represent the thought or the feelings of the circle of life known to me. The feeling of grat.i.tude of Western peoples is as real and as strong as that of the j.a.panese, though it does not find expression in the wors.h.i.+p of the dead. That the j.a.panese are profuse in their expressions of grat.i.tude to the past and to the powers that be is beyond dispute. It crops out in sermons and public speeches, as well as in the numberless temples to national heroes.

But it is a matter of surprise to note how often there is apparent ingrat.i.tude toward living benefactors. Some years ago I heard a conversation between some young men who had enjoyed special opportunities of travel and of study abroad by the liberality of American gentlemen.

It appeared that the young men considered that instead of receiving any special favors, they were conferring them on their benefactors by allowing the latter to help such brilliant youth as they, whose subsequent careers in j.a.pan would preserve to posterity the names of their benefactors. I have had some experience in the line of giving a.s.sistance to aspiring students, in certain cases helping them for years; a few have given evidence of real grat.i.tude; but a large proportion have seemed singularly deficient in this grace. It is my impression that relatively few of the scores of students who have received a large proportion of their expenses from the mission, while pursuing their studies, have felt that they were thereby under any special debt of grat.i.tude. An experience that a missionary had with a cla.s.s to which he had been teaching the Bible in English for about a year is ill.u.s.trative. At the close of the school year they invited him to a dinner where they made some very pleasant speeches, and bade each other farewell for the summer. The teacher was much gratified with the result of the year's work, feeling naturally that these boys were his firm friends. But the following September when he returned, not only did the cla.s.s not care to resume their studies with him, but they appeared to desire to have nothing whatever to do with him. On the street many of them would not even recognize him. Other similar cases come to mind, and it should be remembered that missionaries give such instruction freely and always at the request of the recipient. In the case cited the teacher came to the conclusion that the elaborate dinner and fine farewell speeches were considered by the young men as a full discharge of all debts of grat.i.tude and a full compensation for services. This, however, is to be said: the city itself was at that time the seat of a determined antagonism to Christianity and, of course, to the Christian missionary; and this fact may in part, but not wholly, account for the appearance of ingrat.i.tude.

The j.a.panese pride themselves on their grat.i.tude. It is, however, limited in its scope. It is vigorous toward the dead and toward the Emperor, but as a grace of daily life it is not conspicuous.

Few achievements of the j.a.panese have been more remarkable than the suppression of certain religious phenomena. Any complete statement of the religious characteristics of the j.a.panese fifty years ago would have included most revolting and immoral practices under the guise of religion. Until suppressed by the government in the early years of Meiji there were in many parts of j.a.pan phallic shrines of considerable popularity, at which, on festivals at least, s.e.xual immorality seemed to be an essential part of the wors.h.i.+p. At Uji, not far from Kyoto, the capital of the Empire, for a thousand years and more, and the center of Buddhism, there was a shrine of great repute and popularity. Thither resorted the mult.i.tudes for baccha.n.a.lian purposes. Under the auspices of the G.o.ddess Has.h.i.+hime and the G.o.d Sumiyos.h.i.+, free rein was given to l.u.s.t. Since the beginning of the new regime such revels have been forbidden and apparently stopped; the phallic symbols themselves are no longer visible, although it is a.s.serted by the keeper of the shrine that they are still there, concealed in the boxes on the pedestals formerly occupied by the symbols. When I visited the place some years since with a fellow missionary we were told that mult.i.tudes still come there to pray to the deities; those seeking divorce pray to the female deity, while those seeking a favorable marriage pray to the male deity; on asking as to the proportion of the wors.h.i.+pers, we were told that there are about ten of the former to one of the latter, a significant indication of the unhappiness of many a home. Prof. Edmund Buckley has made a special study of the subject of phallic wors.h.i.+p in j.a.pan; in his thesis on the topic he gives a list of thirteen places where these symbols of phallic wors.h.i.+p might be seen a few years since. It is significant that at Uji, not a stone's throw from the phallic shrine, is a temple to the G.o.d Agata, whose special function is the cure of venereal diseases.

But though phallic wors.h.i.+p and its accompanying immorality have been extirpated, immorality in connection with religion is still rampant in certain quarters. Not far from the great temples at Ise, the center of s.h.i.+ntoism and the goal for half a million pilgrims yearly, are large and prosperous brothels patronized by and existing for the sake of the pilgrims. A still more popular resort for pilgrims is that at Kompira, whither, as we have seen, some 900,000 come each year; here the best hotels, and presumably the others also, are provided with prost.i.tutes who also serve as waiting girls; on the arrival of a guest he is customarily asked whether or not the use of a prost.i.tute shall be included in his hotel bill. It seems strange, indeed, that the government should take such pains to suppress phallicism, and allow such immorality to go on under the eaves of the greatest national shrines; for these shrines are not private affairs; the government takes possession of the gifts, and pays the regular salaries of the attending priests. It would appear from its success in the extermination of distinctly phallic wors.h.i.+p that the government could put a stop to all public prost.i.tution in connection with religion if it cared to do so.

One point of interest in connection with the above facts is that the old religions, however much of force, beauty, and truth we may concede to them, have never made warfare against these obscene forms of wors.h.i.+p, nor against the notorious immorality of their devotees.

Whatever may be said of the profound philosophy of life involved in phallic wors.h.i.+p, for many hundreds of years it has been a source of outrageous immorality. Nevertheless, there has never been any continued and effective effort on the part of the higher types of religion to exterminate the lower. But j.a.pan is not peculiar in this respect. India is even now amazingly immoral in certain forms of her wors.h.i.+p.