This article appeared in Jogaku zasshi on January 10, 1890.
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Draft of a speech delivered at the Wakatake-za theater in Shizuoka on November 10, 1890.
Preparations are currently underway for the opening of a truly extraordinary national assembly, which will convene with three hundred representatives. A civil code, designed to define individual rights and provide guarantees for honour, property, and personal freedom, is steadily approaching completion. Railways, the queen of transportation, carry thousands of passengers to every corner of the land, operating almost ceaselessly, day and night. It is no exaggeration to say that Japan’s civilization has truly astonished the world. For those who can compare the present day to the time, thirty years ago, when Commodore Perry of the United States sent shockwaves through Edo Castle with a few cannon blasts, the momentum of our civilization might appear like a massive waterfall, plunging a thousand feet straight down, unimpeded by any obstacle. Where else in the world, throughout history, in East or West, past or present, can one find a nation that has advanced with such rapid, bold strides as ours?
There was a time when Dr. Katō Hiroyuki argued that the National Diet was being established too hastily. There was a time when the Ministry of Education issued a decree to revive the study of the Four Books and Five Classics in local schools. There was a time when Fukuchi Genichirō, a man of great intellect in his day, penned a treatise on the ‘Royal Way’, a piece so steeped in classical Chinese thought it might well have been written by a Chinese scholar. There was a time when Sada Kaiseki, a man who might be likened to a Japanese Peter the Hermit, wrote tracts on how the introduction of kerosene lamps would lead to national ruin, and even defended the geocentric theory, triumphantly proclaiming that his own philosophy was on the verge of prevailing. There was a time when Maruyama Sakura sought to revive the spirit of the past by advocating for an Eastern-style absolute monarchy. In these and other ways, Japanese scholars, elders, poets, politicians, and religious figures, startled by the breakneck pace of Western-style ‘civilization’, repeatedly attempted to stem the tide; they erected barriers and established schools of thought to resist it. Yet, the momentum of progress remained undeterred, growing ever stronger. As the forces of reaction intensified, so too did the forces of change, until today, the nation stands on the verge of being completely ‘Europeanised’. Of course, at present, there is a slight inward turn in the public consciousness, and arguments for the preservation of our national character are being welcomed. Although this phenomenon is observable, it should be viewed as a promising sign, an indication that our people have advanced beyond their infantile stage and entered an era of greater maturity. I, for one, do not believe that this warrants a halt to the progress of our civilization.
Having reached this point in our discussion, we find ourselves navigating the swift currents of modern civilization, much like traveling along a river where the landscapes on either bank seem to take on an entirely new appearance. The past has become history; its chapters are closed, and there is little profit in dwelling upon what has already transpired. As for the future, with all its potential for fortune or misfortune, it is determined partly by the prevailing tide of events and partly by our own hands. What, then, are we to make of our civilization? Is this not the very question we must address today? Even if we are as distant from one another as the peoples of Wu and Yue, separated by vast expanses, once we find ourselves aboard the same vessel, we must join our efforts and pull together until we reach the safety of the far shore. Come, then, elders and youth, Buddhists and Christians alike, though you may harbour cold feelings toward one another, and though you may stand as rivals in matters of faith, in this single endeavour, be as brothers; join hands and move forward together. We are currently navigating the swift currents of civilization. Should we simply hoist our sails to the favourable wind and let nature take its course, or ought we to establish a clear objective toward which we should steer? If we were to forge ahead blindly, it would be well only if the path ahead were free of whirlpools, hidden reefs, treacherous shores, or precipitous cliffs. One might perhaps liken our situation to that of a traveller drifting down the Yodo River, lulled by the gentle sounds of the water, but if, within our civilization, we discern the seeds of decay amidst the brilliance, how can we remain silent? Must we not raise our voices, even at the risk of our own lives, to sound the alarm?
Material civilization is capable of producing only material-minded individuals. While it is true that our progress over the past thirty years has been extraordinary, so remarkable, in fact, that it has left Europeans and Americans staring in astonishment, from my perspective, it remains, at its core, nothing more than a material civilization. Consequently, the ‘vigorous youth’ produced by this civilization are, regrettably, merely material-minded people, sporting tinted spectacles, puffing on cigarettes, and parading about with the imposing air of those draped in frock coats. At first glance, they may appear worthy of respect; yet, upon closer inspection, they are merely a chaotic, unsavoury lot, children dreaming of a ‘mountain of gold’. While some may possess a noble spirit and a healthy, vigorous vitality, they are few and far between. The young women, with their hair styled in the latest fashion and their brows carefully groomed, they converse with foreigners and play the piano, to all outward appearances, they are perfect ‘ladies’. Yet, within, there is nothing but a profound emptiness.
One would search in vain among the young women of today for the virtues found in the heroic women of the past, women like those of the desolate, dilapidated village of Akamagaseki, who bloomed like a wild rose, exuding a natural, heavenly fragrance, and who embodied such qualities as righteous courage, deep, devoted love, and steadfast chastity.
Perhaps my inability to find such women is merely a reflection of my own narrow perspective; and yet, is it not an undeniable, if lamentable, fact that the human spirit today has evolved in inverse proportion to the progress of the material world? People have discarded such noble traits as sincerity, loyalty, and guileless innocence, choosing instead to pursue nothing but material pleasures. Reflecting upon this, I cannot help but heave a long, heavy sigh, a reaction that, while perhaps not entirely rational, is nonetheless one I find impossible to suppress. There has never been a nation in history that did not eventually perish; and such a collapse is invariably due to the people having lost the character they once possessed at their nation’s inception.
I fear, even as we are pressured by the white races, that the price our ancestors paid to acquire civilization was so exorbitant that it cost us our very nation; and I tremble for the fate of our descendants. While the governance of a state, encompassing both civil and military affairs, relies upon well-laid strategies, these remain mere empty words if there are no statesmen capable of bringing them to life. We may have a constitution that commands the admiration of Professor Stein; we may possess a civil code far superior to the Code Napoléon; we may have established a National Diet and woven a vast, web-like network of railways, yet, if the statesmen and entrepreneurs who wield these tools remain, in spirit, nothing more than the feudal lords and the sycophantic merchants of a bygone era, then what purpose does the constitution truly serve? And what use are these railways?
Long ago, Kumazawa Banzan remarked that the sight of grand, towering temple complexes is, in fact, a sign that Buddhism is in decline. Missionaries arrive and erect towering church buildings; yet, despite the grand, swelling tones of the organ and the solemn, reverent delivery of sermons, no matter how commendable these may be, one fails to discern in these missionaries the spirit of a David Livingstone. If the preacher lacks the vigorous, indomitable energy of a John Knox, the endeavour becomes nothing more than a rigid adherence to prescribed lines; how, then, could it ever ignite a dynamic, soaring spiritual revolution?
To urge the Japanese people, who are already prone to a preoccupation with mere ritual and ceremony, to build churches, purchase organs, and form choirs is akin to what Zhuangzi described as attempting to still water with water, or to extinguish fire with fire. In Japan today, the outward apparatus is already sufficient, and the material resources are fully in place; what is truly needed, I believe, are individuals who prioritize the living spirit itself. I maintain that if we wish to ensure our civilization remains effective, vibrant, and enduring, we must, alongside the material development currently underway, direct our efforts toward a higher, spiritual advancement. To put it another way: now that the groundwork of physical infrastructure is largely in place, we must turn our attention to cultivating the individuals who will make use of it.
Indeed, this is the most urgent task of the present day. If, at the time of the opening of our National Diet, our nation could produce even one figure like John Hampden, earnest and steadfast, how much more heartened we would be! If our commercial sphere were populated by capitalists who act independently, pursue their own course, and bring a clear conscience to their business dealings, how much more secure we would feel! And if, within our religious sphere, there were great figures akin to the heroes of the Reformation, those who once shook Europe to its very foundations, how much more inspired we would be! Yet, when we look at the reality before us, we see that the political realm is dominated by those who merely employ political for their own ends, while in the religious realm. There is a risk that one might end up as nothing more than a ‘gentle scholar’ a man who merely parades his extensive, yet superficial, learning. Both the spiritual and material realms are in danger of being overrun by such hollow, ‘wind-blown’ figures, men of no substance. Faced with this, I cannot help but heave a deep, heavy sigh; and, consequently, I am all the more convinced of the urgent necessity for the cultivation of true, substantial human character. If this is the case, how, then, should we go about cultivating individuals of stature? This is a question that we must resolve here and now.
There are those who, following the example of Dong Zhongshu, as if it were the nineteenth century, attempt to reshape the human mind through laws and institutions. Yet, even if such laws and institutions were to prove fully effective, they would merely coerce people into a predetermined mould; they are incapable of transforming the human spirit or vital energy, a conclusion firmly established by history. Others might seek to reshape the human mind through the influence of schools and formal education. While this is certainly a wiser approach than the one previously mentioned, we know full well that attempting to cultivate individuals of stature through such a didactic, ‘imparting’ style of education is an exceedingly difficult task. In the past, Fujimori Kōan remarked to Fujita Tōko that the establishment of a school system in the Mito Domain would likely result in nothing more than the production of ordinary, uniform people, and that, as a consequence, the emergence of truly extraordinary, heroic figures would cease. In short, formal schooling is by no means a reliable guarantee for the creation of individuals of stature. We, however, have one strategy, a strategy rooted in the laws of nature and confirmed by historical fact. And what is this strategy? It is to look to heroes. It lies solely in the creation of heroes. The principles underlying inspiration, the profound, hidden mechanisms by which one mind stirs another, run deep within the human psyche. It is not my intention here to explain exactly how the character of one hero can give rise to others; yet, just as it is a fundamental law of the natural world that living beings beget other living beings, it is an indisputable fact that an exemplary hero can indeed bring forth further heroes. If a nation possesses a hero, it is as if a single ripple sets off a thousand more, or a single cry echoes far and wide; a multitude of lesser heroes, like concentric rings, will gather around this central, greater hero, forming a cohesive force. Through this, they may ignite a revolution, restore the nation’s vital spirit, serve as the ‘salt of the earth’, and become a ‘light unto the world’. This is what is meant by the teaching in the Great Learning: “When one man is humane, the whole nation is stirred to humanity.”
Saigō Takamori utilized this principle to unite the spirited men of the Satsuma domain, thereby achieving the monumental feat of the Meiji Restoration, a process that also precipitated a decade of conflict. Similarly, Niijima Jō employed this same principle to unite a group of Congregationalists, setting in motion a transformative movement within the spiritual landscape of Japan. Liu Bei once used this to bind together the hearts of the Chinese people, and even today, vestiges of this influence remain. It is precisely here that the driving force behind the nation’s movement lies; should the people look up to and embrace a hero as their central figure, their civilization will inevitably fall into a demonic realm of pure materialism.
Therefore, at this present juncture, if we are to alter the course of our civilization, the primary strategy lies in elevating the character of our nation. This is to be achieved not merely by discussing the teachings or precepts of great figures, but by examining the examples of how they lived their lives, thereby illuminating the path forward. We must look beyond mere words; we must seek out individuals whose very actions serve as a moral guide, paragons of the highest and purest order, and hold them up as exemplars.
Mencius once remarked that those who hear of the character of Bo Yi find that even the stubborn become upright, and the irresolute find the strength to commit to a purpose. He further noted that those who hear of the character of Liuxia Hui find that the narrow-minded become magnanimous, and the cold-hearted become generous. We, too, must search the world for those whose lives and deeds, grand, open, and sublime, akin to the heavens or the divine, and entirely free from blemish or flaw, render them worthy to serve as eternal models for all generations; and, having found them, we must revere them. A great nation reveres great heroes, while a small nation reveres small heroes, this truth is hardly a secret that required the insights of Mr. Carlyle to be revealed. If a nation’s ideals are low, the nation itself cannot help but be low; if its ideals are high, the nation must likewise be high. Therefore, we must look up to heroes, and those heroes must be the greatest and the purest of all.
It is not my intention here to compare the Indian Prince (Buddha) with the Carpenter of Nazareth. To engage in such a discussion would not only serve as a mere pretext for pointless theological wrangling, but it would also be somewhat inappropriate, given that the life of the Indian sage is shrouded in such mystery that even the timeline of his existence remains a subject of debate, whereas Jesus Christ is a figure of pure history, born during the reign of Augustus and put to death under Tiberius. Nevertheless, I wish to affirm, with firm conviction, that the character of Jesus Christ is truly worthy of being revered as a teacher for the entire world. If we set aside those figures from eras preceding reliable historical documentation, such as Zoroaster or Shakyamuni, whose lives lack sufficient textual evidence or verifiable records, and even if we consider historical figures like Socrates, Plato, Confucius, or Laozi, I find that their lustre pales significantly when compared to that of Jesus Christ. This is not merely my own personal opinion, nor is it some biased assertion held by a ‘Christian’. Those who chronicle history all acknowledge this, Luther acknowledges it, Gibbon acknowledges it, and Renan acknowledges it. How, then, can those of us who seek the spiritual reform of Japan fail to turn our gaze toward this? We detest things that appear to be what they are not; we especially detest those that borrow the name of ‘religion’ while lacking any true substance.
It is said that a parasite can grow within a lion, the king of beasts, eventually leading to its death. Are not the empty rituals and hollow doctrines that circulate in the world under the name of Christianity the very parasites within the ‘lion’ of the Christian faith? Just as a partition, while intended to ward off invaders, may also obscure the inner radiance of a room, so too do the world’s so-called ‘theology’ and ‘liturgy’ risk concealing the true character of Christ. Yet, one who seeks the essence of benevolence must be prepared to discard the outward shell. If one grows weary of endless prayers and tedious worship services, failing to taste the sweet fruit that lies within, can one truly be called a person of wisdom? Christ himself declared: “I am the Way, the Life, and the Light.” Whether one seeks to embrace Christianity in earnest or to challenge it, one must surely look to its very foundation. Conversely, those who fail to study the character of Christ should refrain from engaging in futile disputes. Alas, those who drift like willow branches, swayed hither and thither by the winds of the day, are wholly inadequate to sustain the present age. Such individuals, who lack personal conviction, possess no independent thought, and merely rise and fall with the tides of social trends, are of no use in upholding the destiny of our nation. What, then, can be said of those who harbor no inner peace, who chase after profit and fame, who immerse themselves in the pursuit of worldly vanities, who fawn upon the powerful, grovel before the supernatural, and deceive the common people? They are not even worth discussing. Today, we are in dire need of men and women of true mettle, individuals who possess a lofty spirit, inner peace, and a distinct, independent character.
We require men and women of genuine strength. Until a decade ago, our ‘warrior’ class, much like the middle class of England, commanded the respect of the world for their global perspective; yet now, they are on the verge of vanishing. In the midst of this surging tide of material civilization, those who aspire to serve as the foundation for a spiritual civilization must hold themselves in high regard. We, who are Christians, must, above all, reflect deeply upon our own worth and purpose.
