The Social and Domestic Life of Japan
To a Japanese who to-day, after a lapse of many years, revisits the United States, nothing can be more amazing, as well as gratifying, than the intense interest which Americans take in his country. It is not only the educated and thoughtful who have come to appreciate the deeper thought and peculiar genius of the Sunrise Land, but the whole mass of people seems to have become alive to that friendly and almost romantic feeling which has existed between the two countries since (and probably because of) the first opening of Japan by Commodore Perry. One cannot help contrasting the questions now asked with those that used to be put to him in the early seventies, and that revealed somewhat muddled ideas in regard to the countries of the Far East. It is found that in at least one department of art — the decorative — Japan has affected the Occident quite as much as the Occident has influenced Japan in various aspects of modern life. Under these circumstances, a native of Japan finds it a great pleasure to tell the American reader what he can about his own country. The following notes on the social life of Japan were put together as likely to answer best the questions that were asked me most frequently, and are taken from certain lectures which I had the honor of delivering before the Lowell Institute in Boston. If in any way, however slight, they may help to promote a better understanding of my country, I shall feel that my task has not been in vain.
The empire of Japan, I need hardly say, consists of a chain of islands which form the bulwark of the Asiatic continent in the Pacific Ocean. It is divided from the continent by three comparatively shallow seas, Okhotsk, Japan, and East China, while toward the ocean the sea deepens very rapidly to abyssal depths within a short distance of Japan ; the famous Tuscarora ground, the deepest part of any ocean known until recently, lying off the northern coast. The chain begins with Shimshu, the first island south of Kamtschatka, and extending through the Kuriles expands into the large island of Yezo, or Hokkaidō. Then comes the main island of Japan, which has no special name, although the name Honshū, or “ Main Island,” has frequently been applied to it lately. South of the main island are two large islands, Kyūshū, or Kiusiu, and Shikoku. From the southern extremity of Kyūshū the chain goes through a series of small islands, the Ryūkyū, or Loo Choo group, and finally ends with the recently added Formosa and its dependent islands. There is a branch to this main chain, starting from the middle part of Honshū, and extending to Bonin, or Ogasawara, and Sulphur Islands.
The most northern point of the empire is at about 51° N. Lat., and the most southern at about 21° N. Lat. In other words, the country stretches from the latitude of Newfoundland or Vancouver to that of Cuba or Yucatan. As a natural result of this range in latitude there are all sorts of climate, from the subarctic to the tropical.
The area of the whole empire is, in round numbers, 161,000 square miles, a little less than the New England and Middle States combined, or 40,000 square miles larger than England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales.
Through the entire chain of islands there extends a series of mountain ranges. In fact, smaller islands are nothing but the tops of peaks which arise from the bottom of the sea. Among them there are many volcanoes, extinct and active. Fujiyama is the most famous of these, as everybody knows. From the very nature of the country it is subject to numerous earthquakes; destructive ones, killing thousands in a few minutes, not having been infrequent. Rivers descend, for the most part, very rapidly from the mountains to the sea. At ordinary times their wide and shallow beds are almost dry, but heavy rainfalls soon transform them into wild torrents, often causing disastrous floods and much loss of life and property.
These catastrophes, frightful as they are, are not an unmixed evil. As Mr. Knapp well points out, earthquakes make tenement-houses, with their accompanying miseries, impossible in large cities. Still more important, perhaps, is the effect of these natural calamities on the national character. There is, it seems to me, hardly any question that they — along with other influences, of course — have helped to develop alertness, resoluteness, and fortitude in the presence of an appadling danger or a dire misfortune. A certain amount of fatalism is also partly due to the same cause.
Another influence which environment has exerted on the national character has been the development of the love of nature and the sense of the beautiful. Charming mountain scenery and the exquisite blending of mountain and sea which one meets everywhere cannot fail to cultivate the æsthetic sense of the people. I have seen common workmen lost in admiration of some incomparable view of Fujiyama. It is hard to overestimate the effect of this appreciation of nature on the artistic and poetical life.
The island empire, whose geographical position we have briefly sketched, has forty-two million inhabitants. With the exception of Formosa and the islands in the extreme north, the population is as homogeneous as it can be. Scientific men claim that they can discover different types, and there is no doubt that there are such ; but they are visible only to keen and trained observation. The whole nation is kin and kith, with the same language, the same history and traditions, and the same ideals. Although the Japanese have unquestionably derived their inspiration from East Indian and Chinese sources, yet by centuries of isolation they have developed a form of civilization which I venture to affirm is in many respects as elaborate and advanced as the Occidental, and yet withal unique. It is only when Japan is looked at in this light, as the representative of a civilization different from the Aryan, that she becomes interesting. Thoughtless travelers are often disappointed in Japan, because they have not grasped this fact. Some of them look on her as something amusing and grotesque, not to be taken seriously. Others apply the same standard in Japan that they would in Europe and America. People in the United States have said to me, “ Your country has made great progress lately : you will soon catch up with us.” To my mind, it is very doubtful if we ever “ catch up.” The Aryan and Japanese civilizations are in different paths, and although they will certainly exert mutual influence and approach each other more nearly as time goes on, I feel assured that the history of the centuries behind each civilization will not enable the two ever to become identical.
To the right understanding of any social organization it is essential that something of its past should be known. I regret exceedingly that space does not allow me to give a brief summary of the history of Japan. Fortunately, however, there are works within the easy reach of everybody that will give a fair idea of how out of mythological clouds the first Emperor, Jimmu, appears ; how the dynasty which he established has come down to the present day; how Japan early attained a high state of civilization ; how, more than a thousand years ago, arts and literature flourished ; how the government by shoguns gradually arose, toward the end of the twelfth century; how that form of government passed from one family to another; how it finally came into the hands of the Tokugawas ; how that family secured to the country a peace lasting over two hundred and fifty years ; how an elaborate system of feudalism was developed, and arts and learning flourished ; how the Tokugawas’ power came to an end in 1868 with the restoration of the Emperor to full authority; and finally, how this restoration has made possible all the recent marvelous changes which have astonished the world. I should, however, like to emphasize here one fact which should never be lost sight of, in giving any account of Japanese society. I think all Japanese will agree in the statement that the most precious heritage of our country from the past is the imperial dynasty. Japan has never known any other rule from time immemorial, the present Emperor being the one hundred and twenty-first in the line of succession. Only once in the long history of twenty-five hundred years has a rebel been bold enough to try to usurp the throne. If there is any one thing well fixed in Japan, it is that the Emperor is the only natural and legitimate ruler of the country ; in the Japanese mind it amounts almost to a law of nature. Reverence paid to the Emperor and the imperial family is something which one not brought up to it will find hard to realize. For my own part, I have no hesitation in saying that this feeling of love and loyalty to the imperial dynasty is one of the greatest blessings we have in Japan. It is the keystone of the arch of the whole Social structure ; it gives stability to the entire organization. So long as this feeling lasts, anarchy is impossible. This reverence has greatly increased within the last decade, —since the promulgation of the constitution in 1889. Yet this has been a time of tremendous change. Old institutions have been transformed, new ones have been created, and there has proceeded a development of popular opinion so swift and radical as to be almost revolutionary.
Briefly speaking, the country, which not many years ago was divided up into about two hundred and fifty practically independent daimiates, or principalities, regarding one another with more or less jealousy, has been transformed, in the course of thirty years, into a thoroughly modern nation with a homogeneous population, looking back to and proud of the same historical traditions, and united and ready to face the world under the government of a gracious sovereign descended from an ancient dynasty revered as heaven-sent. During this transformation, European and American ideas and institutions were introduced in such a wholesale way that at one time it almost seemed as if old Japan would be “ civilized ” off the face of the earth. But now, if one looks below the surface, one is surprised to find how Japan in her innermost life has retained much that was precious in her old self. In olden times, when Buddhistic and Chinese ideas were introduced, Japan digested them and added to them in her own way. After thirty years of apparently blind and indiscriminate absorption of Occidental ideas, Japan feels that she has assimilated them well enough to be able to divide the chaff from the grain ; and while constantly increasing her knowledge from outside, she will now, no doubt, develop more in accordance with her peculiar genius, and not endeavor to follow blindly a standard foreign to herself.
These things are not unfamiliar; but it is not of the exotic introductions that I wish to treat ; I would rather speak of the original Japanese type and form of civilization, which is so attractive to the American reader.
In Japan, individualism is not developed to the degree attained in this country. The family forms the unit of society. In general the occupation of each family is hereditary. Of course it is natural that in the case of merchants and farmers the son should follow the father’s business ; but the same thing happens in regard to professional men, artists, and artisans. Certain families are always known as those of physicians. The famous actor Danjuro is the ninth of the same name in his family. Every art collector knows how families of painters, sword-makers, metal-workers, lacquerartists, etc., have distinguished themselves. Certain families of court musicians have been in the profession for about a thousand years. Even in such a comparatively trifling matter as that of cormorant-fishing in the Nagara River, the occupation has been handed down from father to son for generations. It often happens that a child has no natural talent or bent for the hereditary occupation. In such cases, the child may adopt another profession or trade more congenial to him ; but the head of the family will try to find some young person to transmit his calling to, training him in it, and adopting him into the family, generally by marriage with a member of it. It is, for instance, a point discussed with considerable seriousness in some social circles, what Danjuro is going to do about a successor. He has no male child, but it is out of the question that he should let the great name which he bears die with him. He will probably adopt some youth; but at the query who among the young actors has talent enough, knowing ones shake their heads. The rigor of this hereditary transmission of occupation is much relaxed at the present time, especially in the capital, but the custom has still a very strong sway. One good result of this usage is that the occupation handed down from a line of ancestors is something sacred to each descendant, and not only the head, but every member must devote his or her energy to see that there is no deterioration. The head of the family not only does his best in his own work, but strains every nerve to train his children as worthy successors. Every little knack of the profession or the trade is carefully handed down, so that the accumulated experience of generations is not lost. In case of artists and artisans, designs and drawings made by great ancestors are set before each generation to study. It seems to me that the unsurpassed beauty of Japanese art works owes its origin largely to this custom.
The fact that the family is the social unit is seen in other circumstances. Among the larger farmers and merchants, in many instances, the head of a family always bears the same name that his predecessor did. As each person succeeds to the dignity he changes his youthful name. In respect to long-established business firms, it is easy to see what advantages there are in this. In some especially wealthy houses of the same classes there are family constitutions, so to speak, which are calculated to protect the common interests as against spendthrift habits or rash deeds of the occupant of the headship at any given time.
The hereditary transmission of the occupation of professional men would do no harm, and would work only good ; for if any unworthy person appeared as the representative of a family, the family would simply drop out as the result of natural selection, and no harm would be done. But hereditary holders of political offices, supported by the great power of a government behind them, would soon drag the country down. Fortunately for Japan, this form of hereditary occupation is completely broken. There is now no reason whatever why the humblest cannot rise to the highest office, if only he has merit.
I need hardly repeat that, with this idea of the family, primogeniture prevails largely in Japan. But with the rights of the first-born go also heavy responsibilities ; for headship carries with it the duty of seeing that younger brothers and other members are provided for.
The idea of the family as the social unit also strengthens the bonds among the relatives. Around the main branch there gather minor branches, and all keep together closely and help one another. Let us analyze our feeling in respect to the social unit. Filial piety is one of the fundamental doctrines on which Japanese are brought up. This not only includes our immediate parents and grandparents, or perhaps great-grandparents, with whom we come in personal contact, but extends to a long line of ancestors, with of course diminishing feeling, but with just as much respect. Special reverence is paid to that ancestor who is regarded as the founder of the family. Not only is the genealogy kept carefully, but the names of ancestors are inscribed on tablets and preserved in the most sacred place in the whole household, namely, the family shrine; and the anniversaries of their death are observed with religious ceremonies at the house and at the graves. In the case of parents, love would naturally prompt the performance of these offices, as does a sense of reverence for remoter ancestors. Wisely or foolishly, reasonably or unreasonably, there is a feeling in every Japanese that he is lacking in filial piety if he docs not see to it that these observances are kept up, even after his death. For that, the continuance of his family as such is a necessity. Aside from the natural love of parents for children, this partly accounts for the important position which children occupy among the Japanese, and for a certain deference with which they are treated. They represent future generations. When there are no children, adoption becomes a necessity, from this point of view.
The desire of making the family a permanent institution has at bottom, it seems to me, that universal longing for immortality implanted in the human breast. It is not only that a Japanese would wish to have himself remembered after he is gone, but he deems it a part of his duty to see that the memory of those who have gone before him shall be kept green. Thus the idea of the family as a social unit is kept up by two factors, filial piety and the longing for immortality. Lafcadio Hearn, in one of his beautiful essays, A Wish Fulfilled, shows this phase of the Japanese thought.
An average Japanese family of the respectable middle class consists of the head, or master, and his wife, some years younger ; and one or both of the parents of the master, if living. These are known as the go-inkyo sama (Honorable Mr. or Mrs. Retired Person). They are generally assigned a special wing or room in the house, and in better families usually take their meals by themselves. Then there are, or must be, children. No family can be complete without them. They are the life and cheer of the whole circle. Of course there are servants: two would be considered a rather small number, five or six a rather large one.
In almost every middle-class house there is a room or rooms where students live, in more or less close proximity to the front entrance, or genkan. These students are considered almost essential. If you call at a Japanese house, very likely it is one of these who will come out to admit you. They are in some cases youths whose parents in the country are anxious that their sons should be under the supervision of some reliable person in the city ; more generally they are students of slender means, trying to work their way upward in life. If the master of the house takes pleasure in helping young men, as is very often the case, you will find several of them in his genkan. They are usually given board and lodging, and in return for these they answer the calls at the front entrance, run on errands that require intelligence, help children in their lessons, and do light household work. They are treated more as equals than as servants. Most of them attend some school; and if any distinguish themselves in after-life, the family takes pride in them, while they feel toward the house where they lived affection and gratitude.
The women of Japan have often been misunderstood. By those who have known them they have been pronounced the best part of Japan. They have been described as gentle, graceful, beautiful, and self-sacrificing. Not only in the gentler virtues, but also in some sterner aspects of life, the Japanese woman often has shown what she is made of. The rigid code of honor among the samurai class applied equally to women and to men. The short, sharp dagger which in former times women of rank carried concealed in their broad girdles, and which they were as ready to plunge into their own hearts as into their enemies’, rather than suffer any dishonor, was but typical of their determination. In cases of desperate struggles, have not mothers and wives killed themselves, that their sons and husbands might go out to battle with nothing to draw them back ? There is a story of an heroic woman of the olden time, whose husband, an archer, had the grievous fault of not being able to hold in his arrow until he was entirely ready, letting it go prematurely. One day, as the archer was practicing, trying hard to remedy his shortcoming, his determined wife, with their precious child in her arms, stood up directly in front of his arrow, and forced him to hold it in. This man lived to be a famous archer. Fortunately, in our days there is no occasion for the exercise of these sterner virtues ; but they exist. If the country shall ever be in danger, the women will be found as determined as the men.
Any one who speaks against the purity of the Japanese woman knows not whereof he talks, or is a vile slanderer who would deprive woman of what is most precious to her. As the mistress of the family, she has as much real authority in the household as her Western sister. As a mother, she is paid great deference by her children. In society, a lady is always treated with respect. There are, without question, some regards in which changes are desirable, but, on the whole, I have no hesitation in saying that the position of woman in Japan is a very high one.
The aim or ideal set before the Japanese, especially of the middle samurai class, is that their family life should be simple and frugal. There are several reasons why this ideal should become emphasized in the Japanese life. According to the stern code of honor which governed the conduct of the samurai in feudal times, the gain of money was to be looked down on, and this feeling was carried so far that the merchant class was placed lowest of all. Wealth was out of the question with the samurai, the highest class. The mere fact that a samurai was rich betokened that something was wrong with him. “To be as poor as if he had been washed clean ” was one of the good things that could be said of a samurai. From the very necessity of the case the samurai had to lead a plain and frugal life. Yet they were all men of culture, and we thus had refinement combined with simplicity. All this was strictly true of a time within the memory of men not very far advanced in life, and many of these notions hold sway to-day. Of course, I do not pretend to say that money-getting is not at the present time one of the strong incentives to enterprise and work, but all those rigorous ideas of old tend to make life in contemporary Japan simple. It is considered not well for a man to give himself up to luxuries, even if he can afford them. It is not the question of affording that decides the matter. There is a certain limit in the style of living, beyond which a man, however wealthy, should not go. In olden times there were daimyōs, noted for their wisdom, who, while not sparing in obtaining the very best they could obtain of swords and other weapons, or in giving education to their retainers, or for other purposes of state, themselves led an almost ascetic life, and the teachings of those men are not forgotten today. Some of the most delightful men one meets in Japan are those who take poverty as a matter of course, and devote their lives to some scholarly pursuit. You will find that, in spite of the bareness of their houses, these men often possess a precious library such as only a scholar can bring together. “ What! Bend my knees to money or for money ? ” I have heard a man of this class say. “ No, thank you. This life of independence is enough for me.”
Even in very well to do families, especially of the samurai class, children are made to live a rigorous life, and parents, to keep them company, often deny themselves many little luxuries which they can well afford. Young people — boys in particular — are made to dress in clothes of coarse stuff. Their companions would laugh at them if they decked themselves out in fine clothes. They are made to face cold and heat in short, scanty apparel. They are made to take pedestrian journeys to famous mountains or historical spots. On such occasions they wear the plebeian straw sandals, always put up at inns of modest pretensions, and the more hardships they undergo, the better. They are made to, and prefer to, ride third-class on the railway, until their own merit entitles them to a better place. I may add that their mothers and sisters are often in the first-class compartments on the same train. I have known the sons of wealthy families to go to foreign countries in the steerage, from the feeling that young men should taste the hardships of the world.
Another social force tending to the simplicity of life is the love people have of being fūryū. I can think of no exact equivalent of this adjective in English. It may, perhaps, be defined as æsthetic Bohemianism combined with a strong love of nature, though that conveys only a faint idea. It is one of those things which every one feels, but cannot define. In an intense form it is a cult, but its spirit pervades all society. It probably arises in Buddhism. That religion teaches us: “ All is vanity ; everything is void in this world ; only the soul is great.” “ What is wealth, rank, and power ? Why should men struggle after that which is nothing ? Rather, let us polish our souls and study the beautiful,” say men of this cult. It is Bohemian in that there is an impatience of the every-day conventional life. It is æsthetic in that the sense of the beautiful is assiduously cultivated. The works of art are enjoyed, but nature itself, the moon, stars, seas, mountains, flowers, are the things sought after. “ Iza saraba yukimi ni korobu tokoro made ! ” (Let us now pursue this beautiful snow scene until we perchance fall down !) cries one of these men in a famous hokku, or poem in seventeen syllables. It brings out well a certain abandon with which the beautiful is wooed. This cult is impatient of all vulgarities, whether of wealth or of poverty. It has developed a standard of simple refinement and taste. There can be no doubt that it has had the greatest influence on the life of Japan on the artistic and æsthetic side. It has made life simple and yet elegant; it has affected poetry; it has permeated all artistic works; it has made its influence felt on architecture ; it has developed a certain ease in social intercourse. So-called tea-ceremonies and the art of floral arrangements are phases of this culture.
Thus the rigorous ideas of the samurai traditions and the æsthetic Bohemianism of the fūryū cult, working from different directions, have acted like the social parallelogram of forces, having for its resultant Japanese society, which people of other nations tell us is unique and interesting to an unusual degree.
I should like to say here a few words about the Japanese house. Fortunately, I need not go into the subject in detail, for it has been treated with minute exactness by Professor Morse in his work on Japanese Homes.
The traveler in Japan often speaks of the entire openness of the houses of humbler classes, — how the shop is widely open toward the front, how you can look through the shop into the living-room behind, and see the whole family life from the street. In larger shops there is not so much exposure, but from the necessity of the case the front of the house must be open toward the street. When we come to the quarters of yashiki, or residences, in Tōkyō and other cities, the state of things is very different. A residence is carefully inclosed by a high board fence, stone or brick walls, or, in more suburban parts, by hedges, so that nothing can be seen of the inside of the house or of the grounds around it. I have found it hard to make my countrymen realize the fact that even the best residences in America look directly on the street.
Japanese houses are almost universally built of wood. On the outside they are sometimes painted black, but as a general thing the color of natural wood is left, with only a coat of tannin. In cities the roofs are commonly of black tiles, but they are sometimes of shingles, especially in suburbs and in the country.
Carefully as these houses are guarded from outside, there is hardly any concealment within. Not a single room has a lock and key. Each room can be made separate by sliding doors, but all can be thrown open. It is believed in Japan that members of the same family ought to have very little to conceal from one another.
The kitchen, the front entrance, and the veranda have always wooden floors. No paint is ever put on any part of the inside of the houses, but the wooden floor is wiped with a damp cloth once or twice a day, so that in course of time it acquires a beautiful polish, and looks as if it had been lacquered or varnished. In all parts of the house other than those mentioned, thick mats, or tatami, are placed on the floor. Each of these is three feet by six, and consists of a thick straw bed of one or two inches, over which a mat is spread and sewed on. The longer edges are generally hemmed with strips of strong black cloth. The size of a room is measured by the number of the tatami which cover its floor.
These mats must be kept scrupulously clean, for we sit on them. Small square cushions are often provided, especially in the winter time, but are considered rather as luxuries. Little low tables are used for writing and reading, but generally everything is placed directly on the mats. This manner of living accounts for the absence of chairs, sofas, etc., which every traveler has noticed, and also for the fact that shoes and clogs are always left at the entrance.
Bare as rooms in our houses are thought to look, they are not without ornaments. In every parlor there is a recess called tokonoma, the “ bed space,” but at the present day it is very far from what its name implies. Its plaster wall has usually a different color from the rest of the room. At the rear is suspended at least one kakemono, — hanging picture or writing. When there are more than one, they must be interrelated with one another. The kakemonos are frequently changed. On the slightly raised floor of the tokonoma there is commonly placed some precious art work, or a vase with flowers beautifully arranged. Next to the tokonoma there is a recess with shelves, and often with closets closed by tastefully decorated small sliding doors.
On these shelves are placed generally one or two works of art. The shelves and the front pillar of the partition between the tokonoma and the shelf recess must be of an extra fine quality of wood. On the side of the tokonoma removed from the shelf recess there is usually an ornamental window. The ceiling of the parlor is also very carefully made, and if of wood must be of a fine quality. There are other ornaments, such as carved panels, “ nail covers,” etc. It is not very difficult to tell, from a glance at the arrangements in the parlor, what the circumstances of the family are, and what tastes the master has.
Japanese houses must not, however, be taken by themselves. Their relations with the gardens should be considered. Our mild climate renders it possible to open the whole side of a house, so as to make the garden a part of the dwelling. There is no feature of our dwellings, perhaps, more charming than this, especially when the garden has been tastefully laid out, giving a sense of retirement and repose.
To give some idea of Japanese family life, I cannot do better than describe a day’s doings.
We all know how we are constantly hearing in our daily life various sounds, the very familiarity of which makes us oblivious to them, for the most part, but the absence of which we feel instantly. The sounds that are heard at daybreak in Japan are thoroughly characteristic. Almost simultaneously with cock-crowing and the plaintive cries of numerous crows that go out to feed during the day is heard the opening of skylights in the kitchens. If by chance one happen to be up at this time of day, he soon sees smoke begin to rise from those skylights, as the kitchen fires are lighted. The sounds of the well-wheels are heard, as water is drawn. The preparations for breakfast are evidently going on in the kitchen. Then follows the sound of the opening of the rain-doors that have shut in the house during the night. Then is heard the sound of dusting paper sliding doors which shut the rooms from the veranda. The duster is made of strips of paper or cloth tied to a small bamboo pole, and when a door is struck with it, the paper tightly stretched over the door frame acts almost like a sounding-board. You would think that people could hardly sleep through all these noises, but they get accustomed to them easily enough. When one wakes up, after these preparations are made, one hears first the cheerful chirping of sparrows, and very often, in mild days, the beautiful song of the uguisu, or Japanese nightingale. Many take pleasure in roaming about the garden a little while in the morning before breakfast, tending plants, perhaps watering some favorite flowers, or snipping a branch or two off some shrub to mend its shape. This does not imply necessarily a large garden. A space ten feet square may be made a source of great enjoyment to a man of taste.
After breakfast the older children go to school, and the master of the house goes to his business or office. The mistress of the family is thus generally left alone, but she also has plenty of duties to perform. If there are old people in the family, the parents of the master, she usually sees them and looks after their comforts. Children also take up a great deal of her time. In Japan ladies never go to market. Tradespeople come to the house. The fish-dealer brings his stock, and if any is bought he prepares it for cooking. The greengrocer, the saké - dealer, and nowadays the meatman come one after another. There is much sewing to be done, also, for both men’s and women’s clothes, except the very best, are almost always made at home, and they are made over every year. I fear that my knowledge of this department of household activities is rather limited, but I imagine that there has to be a great deal of planning, cutting, and basting, to make things go well and economically. In the morning, you will often find ladies in the characteristic occupation of doing harimono ; that is, of starching old pieces of cloth and spreading them on large oblong boards (harimono-ita) in order to let them dry in the sun. It is the first process in the making over of old clothes. All this is done in the open air, and gives ladies an hour or so of outdoor occupation.
The noonday meal was the meal of the day in old times, but it is getting to be only a light one in Tōkyō, as many of the family are apt to be away.
It is generally in the afternoon that ladies go out, if they are inclined to do so. They may go to see relatives or to make calls on friends. One or more of their children may often accompany them. I think it shows the respect in which ladies are held that the jinrikishas in which they are carried are usually beautiful. While a man would not care much about the appearance of his vehicle, and often rides in a dilapidated hired hack, the carriage which his wife uses is likely to be very neat. All private jinrikishas nowadays are painted in the beautiful shining black lacquer, with no ornament but the family crest on the back. The drawer of the jinrikisha for a lady is also dressed in the approved style, and must be a steady man.
By four or five in the afternoon, things that have been spread about the house, children’s toys, sewing, etc., are put away in their places. The house is again swept very carefully, and the veranda is wiped once more with a damp cloth. Soon all the members of the family come home. IF it is summer time, they indulge in a bath to wash off the sweat and dust of the day, and get into cool and easy starched clothes. The evening meal is taken comparatively early, — at or a little before dusk, the year through. A small table about a foot square and eight inches high is set before each person. There is space for four or five dishes or bowls, only four or five inches in diameter. There are definite places for all kinds of food. Thus, the bowl for rice is always on the left, nearest to the person, and soup next to it on the same side, and so forth. Rice, boiled in such a way that every grain is separate, is the great staple of food. It is taken plain, without the addition of anything. When I tell people in Japan that rice is taken with milk and sugar in America, what dismay it causes ! At a meal, there is a maid with a box full of rice by her, ready to replenish one’s bowl. The strength of one’s appetite is measured by the number of bowlfuls of rice he eats. When the maid receives a bowl from any one, she looks into the bottom of it, and if she sees any grains of rice left, she knows that more is wanted. If the bowl is entirely empty, it signifies that the person is through, and she pours some tea. Fish and vegetables are also taken largely, and nowadays meat is sometimes used.
When night comes, beds are prepared. Bedding is brought out from the closets where it has been put away during the day. One or two large thick futons, or cushions, are laid directly on the mats of bedrooms, and coverings which look like enormous kimono or clothes are spread over them. Every traveler has told of the pillow made of a wooden box with a little cylindrical cushion on the top, but this kind of pillow is going out of fashion. Softer cylindrical pillows, made by stuffing a cloth bag with husks of buckwheat, are now more commonly used. In the summer it is necessary to have mosquito nets, which generally inclose the whole room.
A great institution of a Japanese family is the hibachi, or fire-box. It may have been in the family for a number of years; or, if a young couple has started in a new house, the hibachi is given by the parents or elderly relatives, or by some friends who have had care of the young people more or less. It is large in size, and has the inside covered with copper which is always kept bright. It is filled with wood or straw ashes up to within two or three inches of the top, and in one particular spot in it there is a charcoal fire. All through the day the water is kept hot over it in an iron kettle, ready for use in making tea at any time. In winter nights the hibachi is apt to be the centre of the family life. The master sits generally on one side of it, the side on which its little drawers do not open, and the mistress of the house on the other side. Children and other members of the family sit near, usually making a circle with the lamp in the centre. Cheerful conversation with much laughter is likely to go around such a family circle.
As a rule, Japanese families retire early. Ten o’clock is about the average time. Eleven is considered late. A function that begins at nine or ten and lasts till the small hours of the morning fairly staggers the Japanese. “ Why,” they say, “ even ghosts, who are comme il faut, retire by that hour.”
In Japan, outside of the diplomatic corps, and a small circle of high officials who have more or less to do with the diplomatic corps, there is hardly anything of what is called “ society.” Balls, receptions, dances, afternoon teas, etc., are practically unknown. The code of etiquette which governs these functions and the system of formal calling in the Occident is as amazing to us, perhaps, as our tea-ceremonies are to the American. The lack of these functions does not mean, however, that there is not much genuine hospitality among us. Friends come and go when they please. With ladies in Tōkyō there is a great deal of calling on one another, especially soon after New Year’s. When a visitor calls at the house, he is shown to the parlor, and a hibachi in the winter time, or a small box for lighting tobacco pipes in the summer time, is taken in. Then follow a cup of tea and a bowl of cakes or sweetmeats. After the host or hostess appears, a tea-tray with cups, hot water, tea, etc., is brought in, and either the host or the maid makes tea and hands it to the guest. If the hostess is present, she ordinarily undertakes the office of making tea. In case of a lady caller, a piece of paper folded in a peculiar way is laid on a tray, and some sweetmeats or cakes are placed on it for her, as a lady is not likely to help herself from the bowl. When she leaves, the cakes are wrapped up in the paper on which they have lain, and she is invited to take them with her ; or if she has come in a jinrikisha, the package is quietly placed in it by a maid. Little presents, perhaps boxes of sweetmeats, are often given by callers. On occasions of congratulations, a large wooden box is taken with eggs or the dried flesh of a fish called bonito, used a great deal as stock in cooking. All presents are beautifully done up in one or two sheets of thick white paper, tied in a certain neat way with a bunch of small strings, of which one half is dyed red and the other half white. Certain characters expressing good wishes are generally written on the paper. Presents other than fish are always accompanied by what is called noshi, a piece of parti-colored paper folded in a peculiar way, holding a piece of pressed and dried molluscan flesh. In olden times, all presents were accompanied by fish; the noshi is the remnant of that custom, and has come to symbolize a present. If any one says he sent a thing with a noshi, it means that he made a present of it.
Little dinner parties are of frequent occurrence. On special occasions large feasts are given. These may be at the house if it is of sufficient size, and especially if the host is proud of his parlor or garden, but quite as often they are at some approved tea - house, such as the Maple Club in Tōkyō, so well known to tourists. At such festivities, little square cushions are placed along the sides of the room, one for each guest. Between each pair of guests a hibachi or a tobacco-lighter is deposited. The seat of honor is by the tokonoma of the room. At feasts, the order of things is slightly different from that of an ordinary meal. When guests take their seats, a square tray with a bowl of soup and a tiny cup is placed before each, but as the number of dishes increases in the course of the feast, so that there is not room on the tray for all of them, some may be put directly on the mats. Those who serve at such feasts are always women. Before anything is touched, waitresses appear, each with a small porcelain bottle of warmed saké, — a drink looking very much like sherry, and brewed from rice, — and the tiny cup of every guest is filled. After this, one may begin to eat. Dishes will continue to be brought in at intervals, but no dish not empty will be removed. After a while, if one stands up, he will look over a sea of plates, bowls, platters, and cups. A guest may leave his place, and go to talk and exchange cups with any friend. The host exchanges cups with every guest, but as that involves a great deal of drinking, a merciful provision is made for those who cannot endure much. Here and there are found bowls of water, in which one washes a cup before handing it to his friend, and those who cannot drink much are at liberty to pour off saké into them. The hardest drinkers at feasts are these water-bowls. When any guest calls for rice, it means that he is through drinking and wants to finish his feast. One hears often at such a feast, “Oh, it is too early for you to take to rice.” If ladies are present, they are usually ranged together along one side of a room, and form the decorous gallery. They are not pressed to drink, and begin their rice quite early. A lady, unless it is the hostess, never leaves her seat to go to a friend. It is gentlemen, always, who come to her and ask if she will condescend to give them a cup. When a guest has finished, the dishes which he has not touched will be put into a wooden box, and he will usually find this in his jinrikisha when he gets home.
During such feasts special entertainments may be given. Often they consist of dancing, but there may be storytelling, legerdemain, little comedies, or recitals with the accompaniment of music, etc.
As to amusements, they are of many kinds. The game of “go ” is very popular. It is played on a board much like a chessboard, but with many more squares. It is played with black and white circular pieces, one of superior skill always taking the white. The game consists in capturing as much of the territory on the board as one can according to certain rules. This game and chess (much like the European) are perhaps the most scientific of Japanese games, and enthusiastic players obtain degrees in them. There are various card-plays. One kind called hana-awase is often played, although it is in bad odor, as there is a great deal of gambling with it. European cards also have been introduced. Perhaps the most popular game in which young people of both sexes unite is that which is called “ poem cards.” There is a famous selection of a hundred poems which everybody knows or which are known because of this game. There are two packs of one hundred cards each. On one set, the whole or the first half of the poems are written ; on the other pack, only the second half. The latter set is scattered without any order on the floor. As one person reads off a poem from the pack with whole pieces, each player tries to find the card corresponding to it in the pack that is scattered on the floor. The one who gets the largest number wins. Sometimes two sides are formed, and the game is played according to a certain set of rules. When young men alone engage in it, one sees a scrimmage on the floor such as is seen on the football field in America. This game is played during the New Year’s holidays only.
There are other forms of amusements. For men, there are archery, fishing with lines and with nets, and, of late, shooting. Ladies — and men too — frequently engage in tea-ceremonials and floral arrangements. I regret that it is not possible to describe these in detail in such an article as the present. Young girls often take lessons in these arts, because they thus learn etiquette and become graceful in their deportment. It is quite characteristic of Japan that there are several schools in each of these arts.
The theatre is a great institution, and occupies a larger place in Japanese social life, I think, than it does in the American. A performance in Tōkyō generally lasts from eleven in the morning till seven or eight in the evening, — about eight hours. If things were ordered as in American theatres this would be intolerable. Nobody could stay in a seat for that length of time. Around a Japanese theatre, however, there are several tea-houses. These often serve as rendezvous for theatre parties. One spends the time between the acts in a tea-house, taking one’s ease. Meals are served there. In fact, it is one’s home during the day, and one goes into the theatre only when the curtain is about to rise. Historical plays are probably the most popular. A day always ends with a bright, cheerful play, with a great many beautiful dresses and much graceful dancing. There are no actresses in Japanese theatres ; occasionally there is a company of women-players, but in such a case there are no male actors. It is a question if a man, however skillful, can render truthfully a woman’s feelings, but the skill displayed is certainly wonderful.
There are many peculiarities in the construction of a Japanese playhouse — such as the revolving stage and the hana-michi — which will repay the study of a foreigner. The Japanese theatre is perhaps the only institution which is developing in its own way, without much foreign influence. I advise all travelers in Japan to visit a good theatre, taking pains to know something about the play beforehand. It will give more insight into Japanese life than anything else. It is, moreover, the only place where old Japan can be seen, for the days of feudalism are very faithfully portrayed in many of the plays.
Wrestling is also a popular amusement. Wrestlers are enormous, fat giants with prodigious strength. Two great tournaments, each lasting ten days, are held annually in Tōkyō, one in January and the other in May. Wrestlers are divided into two sides, the east and the west, and overs of the sport wait eagerly to learn now the list or order on each side at each tournament is made out.
The New Year’s time is a great festival. Toward the last of the old year, mats are often changed, or at least well beaten, and every part of the house undergoes extra cleaning. Every account must be settled before midnight of December 31. The frantic effort of the hard-pressed to make two ends meet in some way or other is proverbial of the last day of the year. When the morning of New Year’s day dawns things are utterly changed. Everybody is at peace with everybody else. All put on new clothes. The front of every house is decked with pine, bamboo, and various other things symbolic of longevity and happiness, and the street assumes a festive appearance. Callers by thousands are about. It is the season when everybody has a good time.
Toward the end of March the weather begins to grow mild, and people begin to think of taking outdoor excursions.
Plum - trees are the first to blossom. Early in April the great cherry season comes. This is getting to be more and more like a carnival. In Tōkyō the trees in the Uyeno Park bloom first, then those of the Sumida Bank, then the Asuka-yama, the Koganei, etc. If one wants to see the crowd, the afternoon is the best time, but a ride through the avenues or arches of cherry-trees early in the morning, before people are about, is most beautiful and refreshing. After cherries follow in succession, in the spring and summer, the peony, wistaria, iris, morning glory, and lotus. In the autumn we have the glorious foliage, and of course the chrysanthemum. For each of these there is some special locality, and during the season people take delight in making excursions.
In conclusion, I should like to recall a few facts. If I have succeeded in making my points clear, the reader, I hope, will see that, on her serious side, Japan is as much in earnest as any modern nation can be; she is straining every nerve not to be left behind among the first nations of the world. On her lighter side she has a refinement of ber own, which, although peculiar, is yet of a high quality. It has been said that Japan has put on a “ thin veneer of civilization,” and is likely to relapse into savagery or barbarism at any time. Is that accusation based on anything but ignorance ? It seems to me that there is no savagery or barbarism for us to relapse into. As to going back to the old state, that is no more possible than for the United States to go back to the institution of slavery. In closing, let me earnestly express the hope that the good will and friendship which have ever existed between America and Japan will keep increasing as time goes on and as we come to understand each other better.
K. Mitsukuri.