The Critic in the Orient - читать онлайн бесплатно, автор George Fitch, ЛитПортал
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The Critic in the Orient

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The most common charge made against the Japanese as a race is that their standard of commercial morality is low as compared with that of the Chinese. The favorite instance, which is generally cited by those who do not like the Japanese, is that all the big banks in Japan employ Chinese shroffs or cashiers, who handle all the money, as Japanese cashiers cannot be trusted. This ancient fiction should have died a natural death, but it seems as though it bears a charmed life, although its untruth has been repeatedly exposed by the best authorities on Japan.

The big foreign banks in all the large Japanese cities do employ Chinese shroffs, because these men are most expert in handling foreign money and because they usually have a large acquaintance all along the Chinese coast among the clients of the banks. The large Japanese banks, on the other hand, employ Japanese in all positions of trust and authority, as do all the smaller banks throughout the empire. Many of the cashiers of these smaller banks understand English, particularly those that have dealings with foreigners. At a native bank in Kobe, which was Cook's correspondent in that city, I cashed several money orders, and the work was done as speedily as it would have been done in any American bank. The fittings of the bank were very cheap; the office force was small, but the cashier spoke excellent English and he transacted business accurately and speedily.

In making any generalizations on the lack of rigid commercial honesty among Japanese merchants it may be well for me to quote the opinion of an eminent American educator who has spent over forty years in Japan. He said, in discussing this subject: "We must always consider the training of the Japanese before their country was thrown open to foreign trade. For years the nation had been ruled by men of the Samurai or military class, with a rigid code of honor, but with a great contempt for trade and tradesmen. Naturally business fell into the hands of the lower classes who did not share the keen sense of honor so general among their rulers. Hence, there grew up lax ideas of commercial morality, which were fostered by the carelessness in money matters among the nobility and aristocracy. Much of the prevalent Japanese inability to refrain from overcharging, or delivering an inferior article to that shown to the customer, dates back to these days of feudal life. The years of contact with the foreigners have been too few to change the habits of centuries. Another thing which must always be considered is the relation of master and vassal under feudal life. That relation led to peculiar customs. Thus, if an artisan engaged to build a house for his overlord he would give a general estimate, but if the cost exceeded the sum he named, he expected his master to make up the deficit. This custom has been carried over into the new régime, so that the Japanese merchant or mechanic of to-day, although he may make a formal contract, does not expect to be bound by it, or to lose money should the price of raw material advance, or should he find that any building operations have cost more than his original estimate. In such case the man who orders manufactured goods or signs a contract for any building operations seems to recognize that equity requires him to pay more than was stipulated in the bond. When Japanese deal with Japanese this custom is generally observed. It is only the foreigner who expects the Japanese to fulfill his contract to the letter, and it is the attempt to enforce such contracts which gives the foreign merchant his poor opinion of Japanese commercial honesty. In time, when the Japanese have learned that they must abide by written contracts, these complaints will be heard no longer. The present slipshod methods are due to faulty business customs, the outgrowth of the old Samurai contempt for trade in any form."

In dealing with small Japanese merchants in various cities, it was my experience that they are as honest as similar dealers in other countries. Usually they demanded about one-half more than they expected to receive. Then they made reductions and finally a basis of value was agreed upon. This chaffering seems to be a part of their system; but the merchants and manufacturers who are brought most often into contact with Europeans are coming to have a fixed price for all their goods, on which they will give from ten to twenty per cent. reduction, according to the amount of purchases. One manufacturer in Kyoto who sold his own goods would make no reduction, except in the case of some samples that he was eager to sell. His goods were all plainly marked and he calmly allowed tourists to leave his store rather than make any cut in his prices. The pains and care which the Japanese dealer will take to please his customer is something which might be imitated with profit by foreign dealers.

A question that is very frequently put is, "What has been the influence of Christianity upon Japanese life and thought?" This is extremely difficult to answer, because even those who are engaged in missionary work are not always in accord in their views. One missionary of thirty years' experience said: "The most noteworthy feature of religious work in Japan is the number of prominent Japanese who have become converts to Christianity. The new Premier, who is very familiar with life in the United States, may be cited as one of these converts. Such a man in his position of power will be able to do much to help the missionaries. The usual charge that Japanese embrace Christianity in order to learn English without expense falls to the ground before actual personal experience. The converts always seemed to me to be as sincere as converts in China or Corea, but it must be admitted that the strong materialist bent of modern Japanese education and thought is making it more difficult to appeal to the present generation."

An educator who has had much experience with Japanese said: "It looks to me as though Japan would soon reach a grave crisis in national life. Hitherto Buddhism and Shintoism have been the two forces that have preserved the religious faith of the people and kept their patriotism at white heat. Now the influences in the public schools are all antagonistic to any religious belief. The young men and women are growing up (both in the public schools and the government colleges) to have a contempt for all the old religious beliefs. They cannot accept the Shinto creed that the Emperor is the son of God and should be worshiped as a deity by all loyal Japanese. They cannot accept the doctrines of Buddha, as they see the New Japan giving the lie to these doctrines every day in its home and international dealings. Nothing is left but atheism, and the experience of the world proves that there is nothing more dangerous to a nation than the loss of its religious faith. The women of Japan are slower to accept these new materialist views than the men, but the general breaking down of the old faith is something which no foreign resident of Japan can fail to see. On the other side patriotism is kept alive by the pilgrimages of school children to the national shrines, but one is confronted with the questions? Will the boys and girls of a few years hence regard these shrines with any devotion when they know that Buddhism and Shintoism are founded on a faith that science declares has no foundation? Will they offer up money and homage to wooden images which their cultivated reason tells them are no more worthy of worship than the telegraph poles along the lines of the railway?'"

The Japanese way of doing things is the exact reverse of the American way generally, but if one studies the methods of this Oriental race it will be found that their way is frequently most effective. Thus, in addressing letters they always put the city first, then the street address and finally the number, while they never fail to put the writer's name and address on the reverse of the envelope, which saves the postoffice employés much trouble and practically eliminates the dead-letter office.

The Japanese sampan, as well as other boats, is never painted, but it is always scrubbed clean. The sampan has a sharp bow and a wide, square stern, and navigators say it will live in a sea which would swamp the ordinary Whitehall boat of our water-front. The Japanese oar is long and looks unwieldy, being spliced together in the middle. It is balanced on a short wooden peg on the gunwale and the oarsman works it like a sweep, standing up and bending over it at each stroke. The result is a sculling motion, which carries the boat forward very rapidly. In no Japanese harbor do the big steamships come up to the wharf. They drop anchor in the harbor, and they are always surrounded by small sampans, the owners of which are eager to take passengers ashore for about twenty-five cents each. All cargo is taken aboard by lighters or unloaded in the same way. These lighters hold as much as a railroad freight car.

The fishing boats of Japan add much to the picturesqueness of all the harbors, as they have sails arranged in narrow strips laced to bamboo poles, and they may be drawn up and lowered like the curtains in an American shop window. Whether square or triangular, these sails have a graceful appearance and they are handled far more easily than ours.

The Japanese carpenter, who draws his plane as well as his saw toward himself, appears to work in an awkward and ungainly way, but he does as fine work as the American cabinet-maker. The beauty of the interior woodwork of even the houses of the poorer classes is a constant marvel to the tourist. Nothing is ever painted about the Japanese house, so the fineness of the grain of the wood is revealed as well as the exquisite polish. A specialty of the Japanese carpenter is lattice-work for the windows and grill-work for doors. These add very much to the beauty of unpretentious houses.

In conclusion it may be said that Japan offers the lover of the beautiful an unlimited opportunity to gratify his æsthetic senses. In city or country he cannot fail to find on every hand artistic things that appeal powerfully to his sense of beauty. Whether in an ancient temple or a new home for a poor village artisan, he will see the results of the same instinctive sense of the beautiful and the harmonious. The lines are always lines of grace, and the colors are always those which blend and gratify the eye.

Will the Japanese Retain Their Good Traits?

Any thoughtful visitor to Japan must be impressed with the problems that confront Japan to-day, owing to the influence of foreign thought and customs. This influence is the more to be dreaded because the Japanese are so impressionable and so prone to accept anything which they are convinced is superior to their own. They have very little of the Chinese passion for what has been made sacred by long usage. They have high regard for their ancestors, but very little reverence for their customs and opinions. This lack of veneration is shown in striking fashion by those Japanese students who come to this country to gain an education. These young men are as eager as the ancient Athenians for any new thing, and when they return to their old homes each is a center of Occidental influence. This is frequently not for the best interests of their countrymen, who have not had their own opportunities of observation and comparison.

The qualities in which the Japanese excel are the very qualities in which so many Americans are deficient. Personal courage and loyalty are the traits which Professor Scherer, a distinguished expert, regards as the fundamental traits of the Japanese character. That these qualities have not been weakened materially was shown in the recent war with Russia. In that tremendous struggle was demonstrated the power of a small nation, in which everyone – men, women and children – were united in a passionate devotion to their country. No similar spectacle was ever shown in modern history. The men who went cheerfully to certain death before Port Arthur revealed no higher loyalty than the wives at home who committed suicide that their husbands might not be called upon to choose between personal devotion to their family and absolute loyalty to the nation. The foreign correspondents, who were on two-hundred-and-three-metre hill before Port Arthur, have told of the Japanese soldiers in the ranks who tied ropes to their feet in order that their comrades might pull their bodies back into the trenches. All those who were drafted to make the assaults on the Russian works in that awful series of encounters (which make the charge of the Light Brigade at Balaklava seem cheap and theatrical) knew they were going to certain death. Yet these foreign observers have left on record that the only sentiment among those who remained in the trenches was envy that they had not been so fortunate as to be selected to show this supreme loyalty to their country. General Nogi, who recently committed suicide with his wife on the day of the funeral of the late Emperor, had two sons dash to this certain death on the bloodstained hill before Port Arthur. As commander, he could have assigned them to less dangerous positions, but it probably never entered his head to shield his own flesh and blood. And the same loyalty that is shown to country is also proved in the relation of servant to master. The story of the Forty-seven Ronins is too well known to need repetition, but the loyalty of these retainers (who slew the man that caused their lord's death, although they knew that this deed called for their immediate end by their own hands) impresses one with new force when he stands before the tombs of these men in the Japanese capital and sees the profound reverence in which they are still held by the people of Japan.

What puzzles the foreign observer is: Will this passionate loyalty of servant to master survive the spectacle of the ingratitude and self-interest which the Japanese see in the relation of master and servant in most Christian countries? The whole tendency of life in other countries than his own is against this loyalty, which has been bred in his very marrow. How long, without the mainstay of religion, will the Japanese cling to this outworn but beautiful relic of his old life? And it must be confessed that religion is rapidly losing its hold on the men of Japan. Those who have been abroad are apt to return home freethinkers, because the spectacle of the practical working of Christianity is not conducive to faith among so shrewd a people as the Japanese. Even the example of the foreigners in Japan is an influence that the missionaries regard as prejudicial to Christianity.

Another trait of the Japanese which will not be improved by contact with foreigners, and especially with Americans, is thoroughness. This trait is seen on every hand in Japan. Nothing is built in a slovenly way, whether for private use or for the government. The artisan never scamps his work. He seems to have retained the old mechanic's pride in doing everything well which he sets his hand to do. This is seen in the carving of many works of art, as well as in the building of the ornamental gateways throughout the empire, that stand as monuments to the æsthetic sense of the people. Yet the whole influence of foreign teaching and example is against this thoroughness that is ingrained in the Japanese character. The young people cannot fail to see that it does not pay their elders to expend so much time and effort to gain perfection, when their foreign rivals secure apparently equal if not superior results by quick and careless work. It is upon these Japanese children that the future of the empire depends. They are sure to be infected by these object lessons in the gospel of selfish and careless work, which the labor union leaders in our country have preached until it has been accepted by the great mass of mechanics.

Another racial quality of the Japanese, which is likely to suffer from contact with foreigners, is his politeness. This is innate and not acquired; it does not owe any of its force to selfish considerations. The traveler in Japan is amazed to see this politeness among all classes, just as he sees the artistic impulse flowering among the children of rough toilers in the fields. And again the question arises: Will the Japanese retain this attractive trait when they come into more intimate contact with the foreigner, who believes in courtesy mainly as a business asset rather than as a social virtue?

So, in summing up one's impressions of Japan, there comes this inevitable doubt of the permanence of the fine qualities which make the Japanese nation to-day so distinct from any other. The Japanese may differ from all other races in their power of resisting the corrupting influences of foreign association, but it is to be feared that the visitor to the Mikado's land fifty years from now may not only find no Mikado, but none of the peculiarly gracious qualities in the Japanese people which to-day set them apart from all other nations.

MANILA, TRANSFORMED BY THE AMERICANS

First Impressions of Manila and Its Picturesque People

The bay of Manila is so extensive that the steamer appears to be entering a great inland sea. The shores are low-lying and it takes about an hour before the steamer nears the city, so that one can make out the landmarks. To the right, as one approaches the city, is Cavite, which Dewey took on that historic May day in 1898. The spires of many churches are the most conspicuous landmarks in Manila, but as the distance lessens a huge mass of concrete, the new Manila hotel, looms up near the docks. The bay is full of ships and alongside the docks are a number of passenger and freight steamers.

Just as we are able to make out these things, our ears catch the strains of a fine band of music and we see two launches rapidly nearing the ship. In one is a portion of the splendid Constabulary Band, the finest in the Orient. In the other launch was the special committee of the Manila Merchants' Association. The band played several stirring airs, everybody cheered and waved handkerchiefs and for a few minutes it looked as though an impromptu Fourth of July celebration had begun. It is difficult to describe an American's emotions when he sees the Stars and Stripes for the first time in five weeks. The most phlegmatic man on the ship danced a war dance, women wept, and when the reception committee boarded the ship and met the passengers in the dining saloon there was great enthusiasm. Plans were arranged for crowding into the two days' stay all the sightseeing and entertainment possible and these plans were carried out, giving a fine proof of Manila hospitality.

Manila differs from most of the Oriental cities in the fact that American enterprise has constructed great docks and dredged out the harbor so that the largest steamers may anchor alongside the docks. In Yokohama, Kobe, Hongkong and other ports ships anchor in the bay and passengers and freight must be transferred to the shore by launches and lighters. Reinforced concrete is now the favorite building material of the new Manila. Not only are the piles and docks made of this material, but all the new warehouses and business buildings as well as most of the American and foreign residences are of concrete. It is substantial, clean, cool and enduring, meeting every requirement of this tropical climate. The white ant, which is so destructive to the ordinary wooden pile, does not attack it.

The Pasig river divides Manila into two sections. On the south side of the old walled city are the large districts of Malate, Ermito and Paco. On the north side is the principal retail business street, the Escolta and the other business thoroughfares lined with small shops, and six large native districts. The Escolta is only four blocks long, very narrow, with sidewalks barely three feet wide; yet here is done most of the foreign retail trade. In a short time a new Escolta will be built in the filled district, as it would cost too much to widen the old street. As a car line runs through the Escolta, there is a bad congestion of traffic at all times except in the early morning hours. The Bridge of Spain is one of the impressive sights of Manila. With its massive arches of gray stone, it looks as though it would be able to endure for many more centuries. One of the oldest structures in the city, it was built originally on pontoons, and it was provided with the present arches in 1630. Only one earthquake, that of 1863, damaged it. Then two of the middle arches gave way, and these were not restored for twelve years. The roadway is wide, but it is crowded all day with as picturesque a procession as may be seen in any part of the world. The carromata, a light, two-wheeled cart, with hooded cover, pulled by a native pony, is the favorite conveyance of the foreigners and the better class of the Filipinos. The driver sits in front, while two may ride very comfortably on the back seat. It is a great improvement on the Japanese jinrikisha because one may compare impressions with a companion. The country cart is built something like the carromata and will accommodate four people. Hundreds of these carts come into Manila every day with small stocks of vegetables and fruit for sale at the markets. A few victorias may be seen on the bridge, but what causes most of the congestion is the carabao cart, hauling the heavy freight. The carabao (pronounced carabough, with the accent on the last syllable), is the water buffalo of the Philippines, a slow, ungainly beast of burden that proves patient and tractable so long as he can enjoy a daily swim. If cut off from water the beast becomes irritable, soon gets "loco" and is then dangerous, as it will attack men or animals and gore them with its sharp horns. The carabao has little hair and its nose bears a strong resemblance to that of the hippopotamus. Its harness consists of a neckyoke of wood fastened to the thills of the two-wheeled cart. On this cart is frequently piled two tons, which the carabao pulls easily.

Another bridge which has historic interest for the American is the San Juan bridge. It is reached by the Santa Mesa car line. Here at either end were encamped the American and Filipino armed forces, and the insurrection was started by a shot at night from the native trenches. The bridge was the scene of fierce fighting, which proved disastrous to the Filipinos.

Aside from the bridges and the life along the Pasig river, the most interesting part of Manila lies within the old walled city. This section is known locally as "IntraMuros." It is still surrounded by the massive stone wall, which was begun in 1591 but not actually completed until 1872. The wall was built to protect the city from free-booters, as Manila, like old Panama, offered a tempting prize to pirates. Into the wall was built old Fort Santiago, which still stands. The wall varies in thickness from three to forty feet, and in it were built many chambers used as places of confinement and torture. Until six years ago a wide moat surrounded the wall, but the stagnant water bred disease and the moat was filled with the silt dredged up from the bay. Fort Santiago forms the northwest corner of the wall. Its predecessor was a palisade of bags, built in 1571, behind which the Spaniards defended themselves against the warlike native chiefs. In 1590 the stone fort was begun. Within it was the court of the military government. Seven gates were used as entrances to the walled city in old Spanish days, the most picturesque being the Real gate, bearing the date of 1780, and the Santa Lucia gate, with the inscription of 1781. These gates were closed every night, and some of the massive machinery used for this purpose may be seen lying near by – a reminder of those good old days when the belated traveler camped outside.

In the old walled city are some of the famous churches of Manila. The oldest is San Augustin, first dedicated in 1571. The present structure was built two years later, the first having been completely destroyed by fire. The enormously thick walls were laid so well that they have withstood the severe earthquakes which proved so destructive to many other churches. In this church are buried Legaspi and Salcedo, the explorers, who spread Spanish dominion over the Philippines.

The Church of St. Ignatius is famous for the beautifully carved woodwork of the pulpit and the interior decorations; that of Santo Domingo is celebrated for its finely carved doors. The greatest shrine in the Phillippines is the Cathedral, which fronts on Plaza McKinley. This is the fifth building erected on the same site, fire having destroyed the other four. The architecture is Byzantine, and the interior gives a wonderful impression of grace and spaciousness. Some of the old doors and iron grill-work of the ancient cathedrals have been retained.

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