a/ Y ~~ ‘en fy oi aa HeNLNC ANTHEA ONTHe NIHON NTO NIMC Siete ne $s 7 © . a - 2, ; we x ea : ss on = 2 © a? age MU Le aarae ws Sr ‘, we i ae eat ' ‘ I & > \ : Ye, ea ' D Ls | : ! 4 a = ' { ‘ 5 : i] i gi PROVERBS OF JAPAN cA little picture of the fapanese philosophy of life as mirrored in their proverbs By Dr. William Elliot Griffis BH JAPAN SOCIETY, Inc. 25 WEST 43rv STREET New York (ity THE JAPANESE PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE As mirrored in their proverbs HEN on the soil of Cherry Blossom Land, in try- \ \ ing to adjust ancient ideas and modern methods, I found that often the native literary tools at hand were better than my own. That is, in teaching science, lec- turing in the classroom of the University, or discussing questions with everyday folks, I discovered that the more I could utilize and blend with mine, their own thoughts and beliefs, the greater success I seemed to win, when uniting Occidental and Oriental conceptions and culture. Whether it was a dissertation on chemistry or physics, or a proposition in psychology, or a conver- sation at home, or a chat by the wayside, to quote and apply one of their own proverbs usually clinched the nail or “Brought down the house.” To have attempted, at the beginning of intercourse, to circulate only my own ideas might have had a differ- ent result. Many a time the stolid faces of auditors showed neither response nor welcome. But when I proffered them coins minted in the treasury of their own national experience, then my auditors’ eyes gleamed. Their vision was clear.. They knew their value on the instant. Discerning both the truth and the fact, their faces were as when the world was lighted 5 after Ama-térasu came out of the cave. One may recall the verse in the Revised Version. ‘“They looked . . . and were radiant.” So having found that I could unlock the Japanese heart and mind by means of their own keys, I forthwith began the study of their proverbs, only to be surprised at their abundance and value. It was like saying “Sesame” to Ali Baba’s cave of riches. Nor is the allu- sion far-fetched. I am convinced that many of the tales in the “Arabian Nights’ Entertainments” are but glorified stories of sailors who voyaged from Bagdad to Korea and Japan. It is also an undisputed fact that, as in her wonderful art, so also in her voluminous liter- ature, Japan is, in large measure, heir to all the ages. Dai Nippon holds the residuum of the great streams of culture that flowed eastward from many lands and civilizations, even from Greece, Arabia, India and China. Yet while there were many rivers, they all emptied into one sea. The marine legends of Shinto are from Polynesia and of course earlier in time, but it was Bud- dhism, more than any other one stream, or perhaps than them all, that came as an ocean swell to bear on its bosom argosies of thought and symbol and to leave permanent deposits. Its fertilizing flood washed the shores of Japan, enriching the land and nation. Not from any vain or trivial thought, the Japanese call the three countries named above India, China and Korea “The Treasure Lands of the West.” The Occident, of an earlier day for Japan, was not Europe but Conti- nental Asia. 6 Hence when we analyze and assort the treasures of wit and wisdom in the national storehouse, we find be- side many things precious wrought from the native ore, caskets of imported jewels from other lands. Even in the matrix of popular sayings, one catches the gleam of a gem that is foreign, while yet illuminating the truth that human nature on this planet has no frontiers. Hence Hindu, Chinese, Korean and Ainu proverbs abound. Yet in many striking, even amusing instances, there is usually a Japanese tail to the comet’s nucleus. The idea may have wandered far, but in the popular proverb we see that these alien bodies of thought, before they win welcome in the Island Empire, must wear a ki- mono. Indeed, to those who affirm, sometimes rather vehemently, that the Japanese only imitate and copy, but do not originate, we answer, after a Cathay cycle (sixty years and over) of acquaintance with these people and their mind, that such opinionated judges do not know the Japanese. At any rate, even the for- eign proverbs, in their forms to date, usually wear the image and superscription of Yamato, as our pages will show. In other words, seen in the perspective of the centuries—even though the composite Japanese nation is young, no older, as I believe, than the conglomerate English, as I have shown in my book “The Japanese Nation in Evolution’—they are a creative as well as imitative people. In fact, when we know, comprehensively and criti- cally, the true history of ‘our’ own civilization and the components of it, and that of the Japanese also, we ip shall have less Yankee conceit, less American brag, and more genuine admiration of what Japan has achieved. In fact, even their proverbs, when classified and under- stood in their setting, show a well-ordered scheme and a philosophy of life that bear favorable comparison to those of older and greater nations and, on the whole, superior to that of most upstarts of modern days that are too much puffed up because of material resources. Indeed few peoples are in more subtle and manifest harmony with their environment, while none have ex- celled the Japanese in successfully meeting the collision of a new world of ideas and the clash of an alien civi- lization. The once “Hermit in the market place” has become the noble companion of the sovereigns and na- tions of the earth that meet in mutually congenial brotherhood. But lest, in the literary architecture of this little book, we imitate too closely the Oriental custom of making the gate almost as imposing as the main struc- ture and the porch too large in proportion to the dwell- ing, let us enter at once into the interior of things. We shall pay more attention to the old than to the new, for at the banquet in wisdom’s hall—‘‘The old is better.” So, of things pre-ancient as well as of today, we shall write first, concerning heredity, genealogy, marriage, parent and child, and whatever relates to the founda- tion of all society and government—the family. On these subjects Japanese wit and wisdom are of the first order of proved value. For, antecedent to the future and to the perpetuity of the race is the sexual instinct. This, in orderly evo- 8 lution, becomes marriage and creates institutions and, when sublimated, becomes noblest friendship. Hence in the Land of the Sun Goddess very frequent is the sight not only of “Love birds” in feather, which live loyally in pairs, but also the human couples, man and woman, who, by early mating and long dwelling in mutual affection, come, in time, to look like each other in their answering faces, even as in ways and actions they are much alike. Although in the old communal Oriental civilization which, in Japan at least, seems to be slowly giving way before Occidental individualism, the ordinary word for romantic love (zro) is apt to mean something outside the marriage relation—let it not be forgotten that in Asia the family is the integer, and the individual the cipher. Yet there is ever an in- creasing number of instances in which mutual personal affection, as well as family considerations and the tra- ditional conventions, rules. Then, marriage means mating without too great subordination of the woman. Nevertheless, as human nature, antedating all insti- tutions, is, in every land and age, far down beneath the framework of society, Japanese proverbs tell a variety of tales, some of them amusing enough, while running the gamut from the sublime to the ridiculous. Prob- ably the stages preliminary to wedlock afford the most amusement. Moreover, in our own country, as well as in Europe, the cultured Japanese has his own fun in poking his country’s proverbs—keen shafts of wit—at our infelicities. For example, once, late at night, when riding in a Broadway (horse) car, with a son of Japan’s prime 9 minister, then a student at New Brunswick, N. J., we noticed an amatory exhibition in public of two youthful inhabitants of ‘““The land of the free and the home of the brave.” Both sexes were represented in “’Arry and ’Arriet.”” They attracted the attention not only of the young Japanese, but of more of the passengers—so sugary was their joy ride to bliss. This lad, of the finest culture of Kyoto, after a glance at the amatory couple, whispered in my ear ‘“‘Cats’ courting is noisy!” Nevertheless this proverb is applied also to the flat- terer and to the politician who, with honeyed word and winsome gesture, purrs softly before obtaining office or power, but may scratch afterwards. It refers, in gen- eral, to that over-officiousness and obsequiousness which cloaks an ulterior and even base motive. In such a case, “Excess of politeness becomes impoliteness.”’ Like the Greeks—between whom and the Japanese there is in their mentality a subtle likeness—the inhabitants of the Land of Dainty Decoration have a horror of the too-much. Moderation in all things is the law of life, even as we may in this booklet tell, even to repetition. The first virtue of a samurai was self-control. Never, because of the force of gravitation in human nature—varying in the couples most interested—does the course of true love run either smooth or straight. The time may come when man and maid “‘Love each other enough to bicker and fall out.’’ In such a case, “Even a dog will not interfere in a love quarrel’’—that is, when ironic compliments are bandied, sarcasm and upbraiding and tart or bitter-sweet prattle fly back and forth. Though ‘From love arises doubt (jealousy) and Io from doubt estrangement,” yet in optimism it is pro- verbially declared, when the episode is followed not by separation, but by reconciliation, or making up, “Deep as are the quarrels, deep becomes the love.”” A thunder storm clears the air. Happy indeed is the union of man and wife in that mutual mating and long faithfulness which ‘‘Age can- not wither.” Despite the many marital infelicities, separations and the statistics of divorce, it is often that one can say of a married couple, even in the words of David’s tribute to Saul and Jonathan, “Lovely and pleasant in their lives and in death not divided.” Thus freely we may translate Karo do-ketsu no chigird, or, literally, ““Growing old together and buried in the same spot.” A marital oath sometimes taken binds the pair “To be faithful even to the grave.” Yet for such felicitous combination, there must be equally high levels of character. Sinister and cynical, though logical, is the explanation of not a few unhappy marriages—“‘A patched lid to a mended pot.’ Both man and wife being defective in character and tempera- ment, the elements that produce bliss in marital unity are lacking. Almost as a matter of course, that is, of logic in a communal civilization such as Old Japan knew, the family is everything and the individual nothing. The female was deemed an impersonal adjunct, rather than a personal unit. This is decreasingly so in New Nippon, in which both personality and individuality are emerging, probably even at as rapid a rate as considerations of social safety should permit. Il Hence the many proverbs—amirrors of the past that reflect the relatively low estate of woman! Even yet, however, the normal Japanese finds it hard to under- stand or appreciate that Occidental reverence for woman which in America takes on some surprising and not always healthy forms. In fact, from most of the films produced in the United States at the moving pic- ture shows, the kissing and usually the bedchamber scenes are cut out when exhibited in Japan. Some of the old Japanese proverbs are as savage as those of the Greek pécrod (the picric, or intensely acid fellows) who could write such mordant stuff as this: “There are two happy days in a man’s life with a woman—the day he marries her and the day he buries Her i 7 Let us read what the Japanese pen, when dipped in picric acid, can write: “Trust a (young) woman, only so long as her mother’s eyes are upon her’; “After death, a woman can plan no deceit’’—which shows that in the Eternal Land of Japanese poetry dead women, as well as men, “Tell no tales.”’ Nevertheless ghost stories and tales of the posthumous revenge or maley- olence of women, once cremated or interred, are com- mon. “Death alone makes woman contented” is an- other picric utterance concerning “The restless sex.”’ Although I have prowled around in many a hakasho (burying-ground), I never read on a Japanese tomb- stone what I heard a despairing son once say to his American parent, “Mother, it should be carved on your monument, ‘She wanted something else.’” Yet no doubt this complaint has been echoed in lands beyond 12. the Pacific. Nor, in fairness, need we draw the bar sinister across this epitaph which our own Dr. S. Wells Williams, in Perry days, read in a temple yard at Shi- moda, ‘“The grave of the believing woman Yu-ning. Happy was the day of her departure.”” Let us hope it was a happy day for her and not for her friends. “The fatal gift of beauty” is coveted both by the Japanese maiden in the red petticoat and by the wife in white (symbolical of her having died to her own family), and this gift of Heaven is ardently desired by the swain or husband. Yet beauty only skin deep, is often only a flush, an evanescence. The woman bereaved of the charms that once allured declares, in thinking of a fickle man, that “Love leaves with the red petticoat.”” Although one sees many a Japanese Madonna in both the lovely mother and her charming daughters (I have the portraits of several families or “Houses” in memory’s halls as well as in my study), yet not to every maid in Nippon is given this gift of the gods. Hence the proverb: “An ugly women shuns the mirror.” Nor is beauty always the handmaid to wifely virtue or to virginal purity: ‘“‘Beware of a beautiful woman; she is like red pepper’—as our possibly euphemistic rendering has it. At any rate, ‘“There is a thorn to the rose.” Two great enemies of a happy home or marital union are the wrong kind of woman attracting and serving the man, and the male flirt, who endangers the purity of the social relations of the wife. Pre-ancient is woman the tempter, even to dishonor, 3 that is, the courtesan. In evolution the géz-sha, however, as her name is expressed in the Chinese characters, is a comparatively modern product of Japanese civiliza- tion. The gé-sha did not exist in the primitive life of Japan, but is the flower, or weed, of culture and the increasing luxury of civilization. She is unheard of in the ancient or classic literature (fifth to twelfth cen- tury), but arose after the-heroic age of wars had passed and after the eastern capital at Kamakura had been founded by Yoritomo in 1192. There were, of course, concubines and extra wives with beauty and charm, in the earlier days of Kyoto, and still earlier at Nara; but the accomplished (géi) woman—the gé7-sha, able to serve tea and viands with grace, to play upon musical instruments, to dance, to sing, to quote poetry and literature—came in among the dalliances of peace. In modern days, with the increasing education of woman, the géz-sha is an anachronism. Yet though a menace to the home, and ever a moral peril to the would-be pure youth or man, she is not to be confounded with the woman of lower rank socially and morally. Indeed, in this evolution of the two classes, the proverbs them- selves almost tell the story in chronology; for while few of sinister significance are applied to the géé-sha, many of them set a brand upon the ‘“Hell-woman”’ (jigoku-onna)—the creature who is at once the off- spring and nourisher of man’s lust. ‘““When you find a truthful courtesan and a four-cornered egg, the new moon will appear a day before its time.”’ “No truth in a prostitute!’ “When the dusk falls upon the home, it is because, as the light is more intense, the shadow is 14 deeper’’; or “If the Yoshiware (literally Flower-Mea- dow ) becomes bright, there is a gloom in the home.” In our American social problem and in the funny man’s gibes and caricatures, it is the husband’s mother- in-law that furnishes the raw material for the joke- smith. It is the woman’s mother that may prove the thorn, or the terror, or make three in a company a crowd. In lands where the family is the only matrimonial insti- tution, and the bride arrays herself in funeral white to show that she is dead to her relatives, to be reborn in her husband’s house, the case is different. It is the hus- band’s mother, the wife’s mother-in-law, who holds the reins of authority and dictates the policy which makes Heaven or Hades for the new wife. Nevertheless in time, the position of the once “‘Care- less and happy” bride may become the “Hairless and cappy’ woman. Certain it is that in the four different styles of wearing the hair in Old Japan, the female part of the race could show (1) by the chignon and bangs, (2) by the half-moon-shaped dressing of the top hair, (3) by the twisting of the tresses crosswise around a bar, or (4) by a smooth cranium guiltless of a single hair, whether the individual were maiden, wife, widow who might try a second experiment, or the widow who advertised by her shining skull that no gentleman need apply. Perhaps too often, also the daughter-in-law became in turn and with perverse em- phasis, the mother-in-law to terrorize a newly wedded son’s wife. In reverse, however, the happy relations of the senior and junior ladies of the household yielded, in many if not in most cases, at least average happiness. 3, Of course, the ‘Penny Dreadful” novels and the Shil- ling shockers” of fiction painted in lurid colors the long-nosed vengeance wreaked by the former daughter- in-law upon the new bride in her house. After all is said on this subject from our point of view, our conviction is that even in Asia, despite the traditional low estate of women, the average wife is boss inside the house. In conclave, on most domestic questions, she gives the final vote. Does not the man, who gets hungry three times a day, depend upon his helpmate for palatable food? Is he foolish enough to abuse the cook? And does not the wife know that ‘““The turnpike road to a man’s heart is through his stomach?” Moreover, is not a woman’s tongue her weapon of offense and defense, as well as of wiles and allurement? Almost pathetic is the male’s view of the dynamic of scolding possessed by his female partner—‘“‘The tongue, but three inches long, can kill a man six feet high.” She may cackle, but not crow, for power and excess of wifehood, either in affection or scolding, may be too much of a good thing (tadashiku suguru)—‘‘The crow- ing of a hen isa sign of ruin in a family.” In social relations pertaining to marriage, the male visitor's stay at the home must be brief and circum- spect. “Don’t wipe your shoes in a melon patch’’ is of Chinese origin; so also is this, ‘“Don’t adjust your cap under a pear tree”’; but in Japan both mean “Better not call when the husband is not at home” and ‘‘Ever ab- stain from all appearance of evil.” In reverse, ““A virtuous woman cannot have two hus- bands,” while the extreme of wifely loyalty (in the 16 old view )—even though foot-binding was never a cus- tom in Japan, as in China—‘‘A virtuous woman seldom crosses her husband’s threshold.” While we acknowledge that in the realm of ethics— the consummate white flower that grew within the limited garden of feudalism was loyalty, yet religion being the deepest thing in man, there is, naturally on this theme a multitude of proverbs in the Land of the Gods. Some, in their moral loftiness, approaching the Christian high levels, show this. In China, the ethical system edited by Confucius, when Chinese feudalism was long past, fruited in filial piety; but in much younger Japan, where the feudal system was later in developing, loyalty was the super-man’s ethical achieve- ment, which has made fascinating so much of Japanese history. And this contrasting situation is according to the genius of either people! China is ethical, Japan es- thetical. To the solid foundation of ethical principles, Japanese added the touch of beauty. In both coun- tries, one notes that between an upper class, rather in- sensitive to things invisible and in which intellectual agnosticism and only a polite conformity to ritual and customs is the rule—as against the lower strata of superstition and unthinking piousness—there is.a fairly large element of devoutness and an eager search after things unseen and eternal. Hence we find, both in the classic wisdom and in the current proverbs, much the same elements in both countries. Here are a few which we set down with no attempt at systematic arrange- ment; for, in ancient thought, the modern classifica- 47 tions of the theological encyclopedias and the divisions of metaphysics, psychology, etc., were unknown; even as the differentiations of civil, criminal, commercial, or ecclesiastical law were not conceived of. The funda- mentalism of Confucius expressed itself thus: ‘Honor the gods, but keep them far from you,” that is, be neither irreverent nor too familiar, for ‘‘Excess of piety is impiety.” ‘““The gods have their throne on the brow of a just man.” “Men’s hearts are like their faces.” “There is variety and wrinkles are the records of experience.” “The world is what the heart makes it.” ‘A noble-hearted man never talks (or boasts) of a doubtful good.” Often our best intentions work out disappointing results, so we had better wait and see. ‘““The narrow-minded man surveys the heavens through a needle’s eye.” The dogma of original, or birth, sin finds no place in Oriental theology (the word Shinté means theos- logos, theology), or ethics. ‘“The white lotos springs out of the black mire,” or high life of exalted character may develop from lowly origin. There is an implied protest in the following—‘‘No better way than deception (or discussion )’’—to stop a child’s cry with a promise, or sweetmeats, or when the fortune teller switches off the seeker’s attention to another subject. A thousand illustrations from Japanese history might show how men of noble mind have bowed to fate in- scrutable. It is the impersonal ‘“‘Heaven,” not the personal God or Heavenly Father, that is in the mind 18 that coined these proverbs: ‘Heaven’s ordination baffles the human.” ‘“The universe is great, but man’s power is puny.” “In vain mortals rail against fate; resistance works disaster.” “If you spit at Heaven, you spit in your own face.” Are the heavens as brass to your prayers?—‘‘The gods are deaf.” But “Heaven sees through everything” for “Heaven has eyes,” and, to come down to earth, ‘“‘Walls have ears.” Among a maritime people, whose sustenance is largely in the sea, the figure of the fish, helpless within meshes, “The net of destiny” is a ruling idea. ‘‘None can escape (from) Heaven’s net.” In many minds, among the ancients, “Nature’’—not as science analyzes and conceives it—and ‘‘Heaven”’ were much the same. ‘‘God,” that is ‘“[The Power, not ourselves, that works for righteousness” was conceived as a bundle of laws and forces. Hence, moral quality in impersonal nature! Rain falls on the evil and the good. Prosperity and calamity may come to both— “Plants and trees speak not of man’s good or evil.” Yet there was many a Japanese Job—or Stoic—who showed greatness in the hour of death, when fortune had gone against him and the enigma of life even to the finest man seemed insoluble. He might yet trust in “Heaven” and righteousness, even though he die and the unjust triumph, but would say, “I will main- tain my own ways’; yes, argue even in the face of Heaven and go down to death justified. Instance Kusunoki Masashigé, mirror of loyalty, the Regent Ii, and the radical Yoshida Shoin, of whom we may speak further on. a “Where there is no law, there is no transgression”’ is both fact and philosophy, but with the masses, who rely on symbols and the visible idol or talisman, rather than upon reality, which must be sought with mental strain, the idea takes a more concrete form. “An un- known god never punishes,” or “A man is not to be afflicted by a god he never knew,” whether one of the eight million Kami of Shinto, or of the terrible array of the unnumbered idols (Hotoké) in Buddhism. The power of mind is fully recognized. They who know Japan’s ‘‘Mind in the making” and her intellec- tual history and especially how the Oyo-méi philosophy had more to do with the creation of modern Japan than Commodore Perry, Townsend Harris, or even foreign commerce, will recognize the truth in the fol- lowing: “Man himself makes his heaven and earth.” ‘The universe is as the mind conceives it.” The reality, not the symbol, is the cry of the yearning spirit, and “Making an idol does not give it a soul.” In practical ethics a great deep spirit of discernment comes at times upon the normal Japanese, as for ex- ample, when he puts difference between the name and profession of a Christian and the reality. He sees that “Better is the tonsure of the heart, than of the head.” Yet both hypocrisy with a trumpet and true character in modesty are discerned and discriminated. “Even two leaves of sen-dan (an aromatic plant) give forth perfume” and “If falsehood takes the road, truth hides.” One must be lenient and charitable when circum- stances permit or encourage. One famous picture and 20 poem of classic days shows a court noble, who having brushed his costly brocade robe against a wet heath- flower soliloquized thus: ‘On account of the perfume, I do not brush off the dew,”’ and ‘‘Good medicine may be bitter in the mouth” yet work a renovation. “Spare the skin of a dead tiger’—be charitable to a man’s faults. You may not know all the circumstances, or he may not have had your strength of character. If you are a pessimist and think life is but a burden or an empty dream, and you “Hate any one, and let him live’’—that will be revenge enough. Nevertheless in business, etiquette and the ethical conduct of life, one must be cautious and not be fool- ishly trustful or credulous. So ‘Don’t trust meat to a dog,” “A pigeon to carry grain,” or “Money to a thievish messenger,” for “One man sent to bring back another may be tempted.” In all dealings, “One must be careful to be careful’ and ‘‘To one’s own ex- perience, hoist the sail.” Yet it is not wise to cross either the bridge or river which foreboding builds or fear sees flowing, till one comes to it, for ‘It is useless to repent beforehand,” and “Even misfortune,” so an optimist declares, “(May be the bridge to happiness.” ‘‘What scalds the throat may be forgotten in the stomach.” In dark misfortune and even in calamity there may be a silver lining to the cloud, for “Even lepers are envious of those with sores.” No matter how hard things are, they might be worse, and ““The bee might sting a crying face.” “Even diminution of pain is a pleasure.” Yet a man may be too lenient with his own faults; Pha yes, even shake hands with himself and become an habitual maker of excuses. His ‘‘Coming to himself” is seen in self-confession—“Casting away self-love, I have no lover.”’ Such a case of bloated conceit and self-righteousness was not infrequent. As to a big man (e. g., a wrestler) ‘Wisdom circulates with difficulty.” Of the word of him who says “I go,” but goes not, it is said ‘“That’s only a dyer’s promise,” or a “Tailor’s day after tomorrow.” In Japanese pictorial art and in fairy tales, the in- digenous Hercules with an elephantine body has a small head—often no bigger than a cocoa-nut. Into and through such a brain box, new ideas percolate slowly. In the case of the smug fellow, the paradox becomes plain fact. “One must have seven faults, or if not, there must be eight.” Lincoln told of a fellow pas- senger on the stage coach, whose philosophy on this subject was thus summed up: “‘A man that has no faults has pesky few virtues.” So, we must bear with the infirmities of our friends, else no praise to us, for “Possible patience any one can have, but impossible patience is true patience.” This was a saying of Iyéyasu, who after victory, “Tightened the cords of his helmet,”’ in vigilance, but who believed in the healing power of time and the practical virtues of conciliation. Invincible optimism, that is able to endure severe tests, is sure to win, for ‘““A cheerful spirit pierces even stone.” It was music that “Raised the walls of Troy,” and “If the heart be full, the night (of darkness) will be short.’ Better the weapons of patience than of retribution, for evil often 46 2. runs out by its own momentum, and ‘‘Vaulting ambi- tion overleaps itself.” ‘The summer insect falls into Ee fire. Revenge is a boomerang. ‘To hate a man is like grinding a sword to cut yourself” and “If you vow vengeance, then dig two graves’ —you will be sure to get into one of them. The old plan, in feudal Japan, of dividing the popu- lation into groups of five was useful not only for gov- ernmental purposes, enabling the magistrates to fix re- sponsibility, but it worked out a cooperative spirit and one of mutual helpfulness and responsibility. Such a spirit and form of society make many of our Occidental forms of charity unnecessary in Japan. Our excessive individualism has the defects of its virtues. So the proverb declares that “To benefit others is to benefit ourselves.”” There, we see that unity and co- operation work out wonderful results and our ultra- individualism can learn many stimulating lessons. In our century Japanese medical science and public hygiene are abreast of the best among the nations. Yet it was far from being thus in Old Japan. We cannot find that the Japanese philosophy of strictly personal health- preservation, as reflected in proverbs, is notably pro- found or exalted. Yet many are the flings of wit at the doctors and numerous are the rays from the lamp of experience cast upon the various ills of life and the in- conveniences of unusual situations, the peculiarities of individuals and the limitations of humanity. The saying “The hand cannot reach to the sore spot,” re- veals shortage of power, while ‘Scratching the foot with a0) the shoe on,”’ whether clog or sandal, pictures the same impotence. Higher up on the body what is soft may protect that which is hard—‘‘When the lips are broken away, the teeth are cold.” This may refer to personal comfort or in diplomacy or in war’s strategy, to menaced or violated frontiers. Three centuries ago, as well as in our time, Korea, because of weakness, was spoken of as “The lips of the Japanese empire’’—not to be broken away when Mongols, Tartars, Chinese or Russians threatened to chill to death the body of Japan. The corollary was that so long as Japan’s lips were intact, the empire need not show its teeth, yet must protect the covering. “Slice your thigh and add to your cheek”’ means useless sacrifice and woeful waste leading to failure. Similar is the sneer “Add one cubit to your stature’ —if you can. Illustrating the impossible, there is a whole sheaf of proverbs, of which two may be cited as specimens— “To dip up the ocean with the hand” or “To scatter a fog with a fan,”’ and one must use the right means, for “Though a magnet attracts iron, it cannot attract a stone.” Before calling in the doctor to help neutralize the effects of your own folly or ignorance, or innocent in- fection or hereditary tendency, it is well to remember that “Disease enters by the mouth” and “The mouth is the door of disease.”’ “‘Pleasure’’—in loading in sur- plus nourishment as well as excess in other indulgences —“‘is the seed of trouble.’ In Japan, as in other lands. men “Dig their graves with their teeth.” Yet if one does fall ill, “Good nursing is better than physic.” 24 Nevertheless the specialist is valued aright “A jéu-she (Confucius, teacher of ethics) for bad morals and a physician for excess in eating.” ‘Girth control” is as necessary under the cherry blossoms as under the hickory or laurel. The pessimist is quite sure that “Everyone is sick or proud,” while he notices that ‘“The sage sickens and the beautiful woman is unhappy.” It was said, before the days of tablets, medicaments, remedies in capsules, or the sugar coating of pills, that “Good medicine is bitter to the mouth”; but, despite all advance in science, or superior skill, ““There is no medicine for a fool” and none “For a wounded spirit.” The cynic notices that ‘““The fortune-teller cannot tell his own fortune.” In three words he informs us that “The doctor takes not care of his own health,” nor loves to take his own medicine. Almost every American reader will parallel, in his own mind and from his own reading—even in the pages of Holy Writ—similar saws, for “One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.”’ Longevity is the goal of personal hygiene and the task of the physician is to lengthen life. Yet if there is one thought in Japanese literature that seems, by its repetition and monotony, to overburden all others, it is the brevity of human life and the evanescence of all things. Hence the mournful strains heard and the vein of sadness discerned in their poetry and proverbs. Here are a few that mirror this thought. “Life is like a candle in the wind” or a “Bubble on the stream.” Nor do three things wait for man—‘“Running rivers, fading flowers and passing time.” Nevertheless to the =) normal man, “‘Life is the most precious of all precious things,” literally ‘““The treasure of treasures.” “There is no place like home.”” The Japanese said it with these flowers of poetry—‘“It is not easy to forget one’s birthplace.’”’ The Kyoto lady, who married even a great nobleman and lived in a far province, often suffered “Heart pain,” or homesickness and would say to herself—at least, that is what the Ainu coined in words—“My heart sinks when I no longer see my loved home.’’ The same Ainu declared, in mind if not in words, ‘‘An exile from home, pleasure dazzles in vain,” saying, “At home you can be happy, but when you go on a journey, you enjoy four periods of misery to one of pleasure.” In fact, some home lovers mounted to the very peaks of extravagance in glorifying home and incidentally celebrating the virtue of contentment, for in Japanese they wrote their faith in four words, ““Where you live —that is the capital.” And lest, in the old Hermit Kingdom of Japan, some might boast too ostentatiously of having been “‘abroad,” that is “away from home’’—in Kyoto, Yedo, the north- ern provinces, or the islands, or even to the Place of the Pendant Tassels—which hung on the outer robe of the Empire—the Riu Kiu (Loo Choo) islands, or, even—almost incredible to relate—in the Yezo (un- civilized region where the Aryan cavemen, or the “Aino,” or mongrels (properly Ainu, or men), one could still covertly stick to their praises of home, while rejoicing in the pride of having traveled. Yes, but “There are boors, even in the capital” and 26 it might be that people of an idealistic frame of mind —even much as our Emerson did, boasted that ““The poet, though he does not stir abroad, sees all the beau- tiful places.”’ Indeed one need not be a genius to enjoy “Fireside travels” if he tries the magic of books and exercises his imagination. Yet times change and we, to get the most out of life, must change with them. ‘New measures, new men,” yes, and new eyes. An old proverb, long before almost relegated to oblivion or at least to “Harmless desue- tude,” suddenly arose, soon after treaty days, like Truth that “Lies at the bottom of the well.” From her hiding place, far down in the earth and out of sight, the reality came forth. Then the hermits rubbed their eyes to see that they were as Rip Van Winkle and that the world had moved on. Those who had been across the oceans, to America and Europe, pointed the finger of scorn or laughed the laugh of sarcasm at the stay-at- homes. In the old days, this ancient proverb, ‘“The frog in the well knows not the great ocean,” might equip the traveler, or the pilgrim—even if only within Japan’s frontiers—for a gibe at the parochially-minded; but a joke of this calibre was not large enough after Perry’s advent; for then, Japanese who had been beyond ‘““The great ocean” to America or Europe, came home and found their old neighbors incredulous as to the tales they told. To such folks, still stuck fast in insular or hereditary notions was given the name “‘Well-frogs.” Then another almost forgotten proverb of Chinese origin and with natural history, or “Science,” quite equal to that long current among us concerning the sa pelican, the phoenix, or the dragon, was resurrected into everyday speech. It was this: “Cast the lion’s cub into the valley,” that is to say, let the pet son travel abroad. Yet those who were ‘‘Too fresh in imitating the for- eigner,”’ trying to revolutionize custom in a day, or eulping down at once the new ideas, were nicknamed in proverbial fashion and the retort was often stinging. I found some of the street songs of 1871 made happy hits or hurled biting epithets that stuck like the vulgar spit-ball prayers thrown at the gods’ temples. These, with bulldog-like tenacity hold on. One must recall the native classification of “wet”? gods—idols out doors in the rain—and the “dry” ones in the temples, at which petitions written on paper were thrown in rolled and adhesive forms. Even in science, real or so-called, woe be to him who was too credulous, or who ‘““SSwallowed Darwin whole,” or the girl who had only ‘‘Missionary manners”! Even Ito was abruptly checked, in his attempt to Euro- peanize woman’s dress or social customs too brusquely. General Kuroda was bluffed in his colossal dreams for the inter-marriage of whole nations and in his revolu- tionary schemes of female education. —The Code Napo- léon was rejected, even after a learned Frenchman had labored for years to adapt it to Japanese life. “Water takes the shape of the vessel containing it” meant too much for the men of conservative instinct. So the command “Halt” had to be given almost as often as that of ‘‘Forward,” and the new electricity had to travel in a slower alternating current; or rather the > 28 flood of new influences was as the ocean tides—plenty of incoming billows, but also the undertow. Education, in all its phases and especially the method and philosophy of it, has ever received a notable amount of attention, and this fact is reflected in prov- erbs. The actual result of mature thinking is best known to those inquirers who, in studying the causes of the modern regeneration of Japan, have sought beneath the surface for the causes. The scrutiny of such ex- perts tends to lower the conceit of foreigners. From the day when mercy dictated the substitution of clay images for the human beings who had formerly been buried alive with the dead chief or master, down to the adoption of a national public school system, edu- cation has been a ruling passion. The gnomic sayings on this theme have multiplied like the facets ground upon the face of a diamond. Yet it must be confessed that in Old Japan culture was for the few, not for the many, whereas now it is open and free to all. The first American called to live as a guest in the far interior of Japan to organize schools on Western principles, felt it high honor to be addresed by all as “Sen-séi.”’ ‘This word, applied to the venerable and those honored because of age, or to those having pro- fessional skill in healing, or to the good teacher, means literally ‘“‘First-Born.”’ In Old Japan the more years, the more honor! Even the lady who was past youth’s first blush, concealed not her age. Indeed most of the fair ones of mature years felt rather complimented at being called ‘‘old’’—the word of terror in the young country of America. So oh the American educator in the far interior of Japan felt happy, for he discerned the honors intended and so pleasantly conferred. Let us see how the wise men of Japan conceived of education and culture and on what elements they set the most value. We shall dwell less on commonplace maxims for the beginners and look at the chief aim. While elementary training was not undervalued, one of the main points in the desired result was the acquire- ment of tact, good judgment, the sense of propriety and the proportion of things. For, none more than the Japanese gentleman saw how often even a great man without a sense of humor may make a fool of himself, as we frequently see even in ‘““The land of the free and the home of the brave.” “A deaf man speaks loudly,”’ but why hello when all can hear? Again the Greek idea of “Not too much!” There is delicacy in the way we do things. Tact “Gives wings to dexterity.”’ How pretty the picture- proverbs—‘“‘The feet of a heron standing in the water, rising to fly, roil not the stream,” and “The branches of the willow break not from the snow.” ‘Read in the classics, but not knowing them”’ not only notes the difference between erudition and culture—hasty read- ing without reflection—but points at the wight who is well bred but not practical, or who may know but can- not communicate, or the teacher who can hear recita- tions but not inspire. Such a one, omnivorous in read- ing but too poor in mental digestion, ‘Swallows black pepper whole,” or gulps down a five-dollar tea infu- sion, when he ought to taste every drop. 30 Especially in the use of the tongue are restraint, ef- fectiveness and charm inculcated. “Better avoid criti- cism than win praise.” Many are the witty flings at ways and things infelicitous. “The unskillful speaker is long-winded,” and ““The more words, the less sense” ; while in contrast, the eloquent priest and story-teller “Turn men’s ears into eyes” and can “Pick men’s pock- ets with their tongues.” Under the winsome orator or convincing speaker, one may, like our alluring adver- tisement-writers, make one “Hear one thing and under- stand ten’’; or, in reverse, we may “Hear Paradise and see Hades.” Patience in study rewards the student, even as mod- eration in eating, and deliberation in sipping old wine the epicure. The student of the classics brings ample returns on his investment of time and brains; for ‘‘Seek for the old and you discover the new.” The more we read in the literature of power, the more we enjoy its freshness, for we ourselves grow to the measure of its height. It may even be that ‘“‘You seek only a grass stalk and get a fine needle,” and in the verse and preg- nant language of the classics ““What is not said excels what is spoken.” Yet outside this charmed circle, very far below the peaks of human attainment in thought and expression—in the literature of knowledge and amusement—‘‘The more words the less sense.”’ ‘‘Proof is better than argument.” The tongue of the wise has power and “One single great man can still a crowd,” and ‘The silent may be worth listening to.””’ Von Moltke was ‘“‘Silent in six languages,” but his strategy was superb. 31 Men may weary of mere talk, which may dribble on until “A crow’s head becomes white” or “The white heron becomes black.” Witness some midnight pro- longations of stupid after-dinner speakers who, “While their tongues wag, their brains sleep.”’ There are times when “Silence is better than speech.”’ The wise man scorns not the lowly, for “Something may be learned even from a grass cutter’—the poor fellow that seeks scanty fuel in the distant hills, and “Even a dunce may have one specialty.” On the other hand, the great man has foibles. “Even Kobo (eighth century paragon of intellect and learning) made slips of the pen.” ‘The Master’s favorite red cap” reveals eccentricities and shows that the elephant, as well as the puppy, must be humored. Yet the learned will not waste time or words on the ignorant or the uninter- ested. This would be “Like giving a koban (gold piece) to a cat,”’ or “Pouring water in a frog’s face.” They care nothing. Nor will wise men wilt under gossip, for “The world’s talk is only for seventy days’—a period somewhat longer than our “Nine days’ wonder.” As to the value of education, there were, or are now, no two opinions. ‘One day at school is worth a thou- sand réyo (dollars),’’ for “Learning is like a wagon go- ing up hill’”—one must keep on, or the pupils will lose what they acquired. The recipe for learning a lan- guage, or mastering an art, may be written in “Jferum tterumque’’ (again and again), for “‘Practice makes per- fect”? and ‘‘Habit is second nature’”’—both for bane and for blessing, for “After three years, evil becomes a neces- sity’ —“We first endure, then pity, then embrace.” 32 For the obverse of the question of excess of familiar- ity and repetition, we have much wit and humor, be- cause the Japanese (like other folks) are very Athenian in their desire ‘““To hear or to tell some new thing.” “Even the crows laugh at a tale three years old.” Old jokes, ‘‘Chestnuts,”’ “Tales to the Marines” fail to ex- cite zest in those who have often heard them. “Ho- toké mo, sando” (three looks at a dead saint’s face is enough.) This is a short proverb that tells a long story. The most appealing tunes lose their sweet music if heard too often, and the continual sound of the praises of Alcibiades as a just man may weary and disgust even a cobbler. In religion “By being overmuch righteous, we become bigoted,” “Extremes in orthodoxy produce error’ and “Excess of politeness may become rude- ness.’ Moderation in all things is a trait noticeable in the Japanese superior man from the dawn of history, and this, despite fads, fashions, love of change, appe- tite for new dishes and ideas. Yet under the stress of necessity, the power to change even on a national scale is not impossible to the Japanese. Reflecting daily traffic, whether in the market place, or over the counter, “On change,” or in life among the lowly—in whose conversation, even to those who do not understand the vernacular, are overheard the words, as in a song with a refrain, “Roppiaku hop- piaku’’ (six hundred, eight hundred, etc., cash )—are proverbs, as many as coins on a full string of the old (perforated) cash. In old feudal days, one needed a strong bag to hold the bulky and heavy iron and brass zen2, or even a horse 33 for a long journey. Of course, there were silver coins —the square 7chi-bu, and the gold koban ($5), and oban ($40), but these were for hoarding and accumu- lation, rather than circulation. For if one took paper money, he must change the dirty stuff, literally “filthy lucre,”’ at each frontier and barrier gate of the nearly 300 han or feudal fractions of the empire. In travel- ing in the interior in 1871 I often changed the ‘Shin plasters’ as many as five times in one day. Yet wits were sharpened and rascality was suffi- ciently abundant, so that caution was necessary and experience plentiful. There were stingy and generous folk. Men ‘‘Made their pile,” or, in Japanese, ‘‘Raised a mountain,” by industry, shrewdness, or frugality. ‘‘The cheap buyer loses his cash”—better pay well for a good thing. A bad venture—‘“‘A hundred days’ work —one breath of wind,” or only a promise to pay. The emotions of borrowers and lenders are pictured in the proverbs, ‘““He borrows with the face of a saint, but pays with the visage of a demon.”’ One rather old saw means ‘“‘Pay your fiddler.” Not all shopkeepers were scoundrels—as the samu- rai, non-tax-paying, sword-wearers might, yes, were wont to believe. ‘Honest business produces wealth” —or is “The best policy.”’ The virtues of thrift and industry were preached—‘‘The wise man can hold his money.” “Poverty cannot overtake industry.” ‘The tree of industry bears golden fruit.’ Yet miserliness, an excess of economy, is not to be praised, as when a man “‘Rakes in dung to pick up a copper.” “Poverty leads to theft.” ‘Want begets robbery’’; 34 or, less blameworthy from lack of learning, A native wit, “Poverty is the result of stupidity.” Our “Don’t do business with your relatives” is in Japan “Lend money to a friend and he is a friend no more.’ Another native proverb is the equivalent of ours, “Short settlements make long friendships.” The “deceitfulness of riches” and the evil fruit, not of money but of inordinate money-love is thus pic- tured: ‘The rich man becomes more avaricious, even as the spittoon becomes more foul.” In this sentence also may be read many a biography—‘‘When life is thrown away for pelf, the ruined life cares naught for the money,” that is “Nature takes out of the man what she puts into the chest,” as Emerson says. To hie to the metropolis, without experience but perhaps to gain more of this commodity than is wanted, is to be like moths lured to the flame. “There is no day in Yedo when a bell cannot be sold.” Yet a brave man will dare, for, “If you do not enter the tiger’s den you will net get her cub.” “Nothing venture, nothing have.” Closeness of observation of the animal world is re- vealed in the popular sayings, and especially in those concerning the home creatures may accuracy be noted; but as regards the tiger—unknown in Nippon—the references are like those to the dragons and other phan- tasies, which exist only in the rich mythical zoology of Japan. The fox and monkey are the favorite targets of wit and the apothegms concerning the latter, pro and con, would satisfy both Mr. Darwin and Mr. Bryan— ‘“‘“A monkey lacks only three hairs of being human.” No wonder that an ape is so like a man, for it “Tries 35 to seize the moon in the water.” The bestowal of honors upon a fool or an ignoramus in high office, is like “Putting a hat (noble’s cap) on a monkey.” Fool- ish learning or fatuous enterprise is “Monkey wis- dom.’”’ A man must not take himself too seriously or unduly magnify his own importance. He should be as modest as ““The crab (which) digs a hole the size of its own back.’”’ In tine, most of us find our level. Cunning may be added to strength, as when a giant has brains equaling his brawn. Then “The fox has borrowed the tiger’s power,”’ or it is like “Giving wings to a tiger.” Here we have a Korean reference to the mountain god. One of the banners thus pictures with a statant winged tiger—the patron deity of the brave hunters, who in 1871 faced American rifles and how- itzers—was captured by our forces under Schley and Rodgers. Our “Birds of a feather” becomes ‘‘Foxes from the same hole.” The varied peculiarities of Japan’s domestic animals are read in the popular proverbial verdicts. The cats, when first introduced from China and Korea, were for centuries looked upon as wild animals, as certain extant medieval edicts show. Not even yet have centuries of domestication wholly redeemed their ancient and sinister reputation. Contrast is usually made with the dogs, even though, until 1871, when the town dogs were taxed and put under license, canine creatures were wild, ownerless and hunted in packs. As a rule, only the pug-nosed chin—“King Charles spaniel’’—was a household pet. The ill-trusted gé2-sha are called “‘cats’—a reference less malevolent than 36 would appear on the surface, since it refers rather to the catskin, which covers their samdzsen (three-stringed banjo), the girls being nearly all musicians and expert with this instrument. Distinctly bad is feline reputa- tion, in this exaggeration—‘“‘Feed a cat three years and after three days’ absence, it will not know you.” “Feed a dog three days, and it will be grateful for three years.”’ Moreover, the Japanese bob-tailed Puss is lazy and only when unfed or hungry, hunts its prey; but then, “The rat-catching cat hides its claws.” One might conjecture, in advance, that the Japa- nese, being a nation of fishermen—getting at least a third of their daily food out of water, salt or fresh— many even of their myths, legends and fairy tales be- ing marine in their location, and evidently from their Polynesian strain of ancestry, there would be many wise or witty popular sayings about fish, with the talk, also, about the chances of landing them, with fun at the human element in the case. To begin with “Don’t fish on trees” and remember ‘‘There are no fish in clear water’—the net being spread in vain in the sight of any bird—or fish. With art, the little with the great, one can “Catch a fai (golden red bream) with a rice grain,” which is the verbal equivalent of our “‘A sprat for a mackerel.’’ Of course, in Japan, as elsewhere in the world, ‘‘fish stories’ abound and in them, usually in excited memory, if not in overt reality, ‘“The lost eel is large.” Falconry, one of the sports, which were many in Old Japan and borrowed from China, even as Europe pur- loined so liberally from Asia, is rather ancient in this 37 youthful land, which is, both historically and geologi- cally, very young—as the numerous and awful earth- quakes prove. The skilled know that “A clever falcon hides its claws’ (and so does the man who is like this bird of prey) and “It crouches that it may swoop” (as does the flattering scoundrel), but once gripped with talon or claw, it holds on and not infrequently “The plucky falcon has its leg broken.” While textbooks and the script used in school were recognized as necessities, the greater dependence was placed on the living teacher and the power of example. In the feudal framework of society and government, etiquette and propriety, as taught to children in the Land of Fine Manners, scarcely needed to be written. We do not say that these elements of behavior consti- tuted the religion of the Japanese; but it is certain that in the minority of the privileged classes, who ruled the majority, that is, the masses, conformity to custom and tradition were accounted as the equivalent, or even as having more potency than religion. To innovate, to believe in progress and take the necessary steps to se- cure the same, meant social or political heresy, with the penalty of exile, imprisonment or death. To believe in freedom of conscience was then ‘‘To hold evil opin- ions.” For this Yokoi Heishiro, one of Japan’s noblest martyrs for truth, who sent the first students to Amer- ica, was in 1869 assassinated. Long is the list of the posthumously honored or with tombs built to increase the fame, of Japan’s “Morning Stars of the Reforma- tion” of 1868, and of the martyrs whose blood was the seed of the nation’s new life. In a word, exactly as in 38 the case of Europe, Japan leaped as if by a bound from cast-iron conservatism to the great possibilities of progress as of tempered steel, which bends without breaking. Well named was the time-era of Mezjz (Enlightened Progress). Nobler yet is that of Tazsho (Great Righteousness). May the reality measure up to the symbol and the future to the name! 39 Printing House of Wiii1amM Epwin RupGe New York City r . Manufactured by AYLORD BROS. Inc. Syracuse, N. Y. Stockton, Calif. Tn