The Invention of a New Religion | Page 7

while to oppose them
is the business of no one in particular. Moreover, the disinterested love
of truth for its own sake is rare; the patience to unearth it is rarer still,
especially in the East. Patriotism, too, is a mighty engine working in
the interests of credulity. How should men not believe in a system that
produces such excellent practical results, a system which has united all
the scattered elements of national feeling into one focus, and has thus
created a powerful instrument for the attainment of national aims?
Meanwhile a generation is growing up which does not so much as
suspect that its cherished beliefs are inventions of yesterday.
The new religion, in its present stage, still lacks one important item--a
sacred book. Certain indications show that this lacuna will be filled by
the elevation of the more important Imperial Rescripts to that rank,
accompanied doubtless by an authoritative commentary, as their style is
too abstruse to be understanded of the people. To these Imperial
Rescripts some of the poems composed by his present Majesty may be
added. In fact, a volume on the whole duty of Japanese man, with
selected Imperial poems as texts, has already appeared. [4]
[Note 4] For over a thousand years the composition of Japanese and
Chinese verse has formed part of a liberal education, like the
composition of Latin verse among ourselves. The Court has always
devoted much time to the practice of this art. But the poems of former
Emperors were little known, because the monarchs themselves
remained shut up in their palace, and exercised no influence beyond its
walls. With his present Majesty the case is entirely different. Moreover,

some of his compositions breathe a patriotism formerly undreamt of.
* * *
One might have imagined that Japan's new religionists would have
experienced some difficulty in persuading foreign nations of the truth
of their dogmas. Things have fallen out otherwise. Europe and America
evince a singular taste for the marvellous, and find a zest in
self-depreciation. Our eighteenth-century ancestors imagined all
perfections to be realised in China, thanks to the glowing descriptions
then given of that country by the Jesuits. Twentieth-century Europe
finds its moral and political Eldorado in distant Japan, a land of
fabulous antiquity and incredible virtues. There is no lack of
pleasant-mannered persons ready to guide trustful admirers in the right
path. Official and semi- official Japanese, whether ambassadors and
ministers-resident or peripatetic counts and barons, make it their
business to spread a legend so pleasing to the national vanity, so useful
as a diplomatic engine. Lectures are delivered, books are written in
English, important periodicals are bought up, minute care is lavished on
the concealment, the patching-up, and glossing-over of the deep gulf
that nevertheless is fixed between East and West. The foreigner cannot
refuse the bolus thus artfully forced down his throat. He is not
suspicious by nature. How should he imagine that people who make
such positive statements about their own country are merely exploiting
his credulity? HE has reached a stage of culture where such mythopoeia
has become impossible. On the other hand, to control information by
consulting original sources lies beyond his capacity.
For consider this peculiar circumstance: the position of European
investigators vis-a-vis Japan differs entirely from that of Japanese
vis-a-vis Europe. The Japanese possess every facility for studying and
understanding Europe. Europeans are warded off by well-nigh
insuperable obstacles from understanding Japan. Europe stands on a
hill-top, in the sunlight, glittering afar. Her people court inspection.
"Come and see how we live"--such was a typical invitation which the
present writer recently received. A thousand English homes are open to
any Japanese student or traveller who visits our shores. An alphabet of
but six-and-twenty simple letters throws equally wide open to him a
literature clearly revealing our thoughts, so that he who runs may read.
Japan lies in the shadow, away on the rim of the world. Her houses are

far more effectually closed to the stranger by their paper shutters than
are ours by walls of brick or stone. What we call "society" does not
exist there. Her people, though smiling and courteous, surround
themselves by an atmosphere of reserve, centuries of despotic
government having rendered them suspicious and reticent. True, when
a foreigner of importance visits Japan--some British M.P., perhaps,
whose name figures often in the newspapers, or an American editor, or
the president of a great American college--this personage is charmingly
received. But he is never left free to form his own opinion of things,
even were he capable of so doing. Circumstances spin an invisible web
around him, his hosts being keenly intent on making him a
speaking-trumpet for the proclamation of their own views.
Again, Japan's non-Aryan speech, marvellously intricate, almost defies
acquisition. Suppose this difficult vernacular mastered;