Encyclopaedia Britannica, 11th Edition, "Jacobites" to "Japan" (part) (part 3)

Midway between the Matsumoto school and the pure style approved by the native taste in former times stand a number of wood-carvers headed by Takamura Kōun, who occupies in the field of sculpture much the same place as that held by Hashimoto Gaho in the realm of painting. Kōun carves figures in the round which not only display great power of chisel and breadth of style, but also tell a story not necessarily drawn from the motives of the classical school. This departure from established canons must be traced to the influence of the short-lived academy of Italian art established by the Japanese government early in the Meiji era. In the forefront of the new movement are to be found men like Yoneharu Unkai and Shinkai Taketarō; the former chiselled a figure of Jenner for the Medical Association of Japan when they celebrated the centenary of the great physician, and the latter has carved life-size effigies of two Imperial princes who lost their lives in the war with China (1894-95). The artists of the Kōun school, however, do much work which appeals to emotions in general rather than to individual memories. Thus Arakawa Reiun, one of Kōun’s most brilliant pupils, has exhibited a figure of a swordsman in the act of driving home a furious thrust. The weapon is not shown. Reiun sculptured simply a man poised on the toes of one foot, the other foot raised, the arm extended, and the body straining forward in strong yet elastic muscular effort. A more imaginative work by the same artist is a figure of a farmer who has just shot an eagle that swooped upon his grandson. The old man holds his bow still raised. Some of the eagle’s feathers, blown to his side, suggest the death of the bird; at his feet lies the corpse of the little boy, and the horror, grief and anger that such a tragedy would inspire are depicted with striking realism in the farmer’s face. Such work has very close affinities with Occidental conceptions. The chief distinguishing feature is that the glyptic character is preserved at the expense of surface finish. The undisguised touches of the chisel tell a story of technical force and directness which could not be suggested by perfectly smooth surfaces. To subordinate process to result is the European canon; to show the former without marring the latter is the Japanese ideal. Many of Kōun’s sculptures appear unfinished to eyes trained in Occidental galleries, whereas the Japanese connoisseur detects evidence of a technical feat in their seeming roughness.

Architecture.—From the evidence of ancient records it appears that before the 5th century the Japanese resided in houses of a very rude character. The sovereign’s palace itself was merely a wooden hut. Its pillars were thrust into the ground and the whole framework—consisting of posts, beams, rafters, door-posts and window-frames—was tied together with cords made by twisting the long fibrous stems of climbing plants. The roof was thatched, and perhaps had a gable at each end with a hole to allow the smoke of the wood fire to escape. Wooden doors swung on a kind of hook; the windows were mere holes in the walls. Rugs of skins or rush matting were used for sitting on, and the whole was surrounded with a palisade. In the middle of the 5th century two-storeyed houses seem to have been built, but the evidence on the subject is slender. In the 8th century, however, when the court was moved to Nara, the influence of Chinese civilization made itself felt. Architects, turners, tile-makers, decorative artists and sculptors, coming from China and from Korea, erected grand temples for the worship of Buddha enshrining images of much beauty and adorned with paintings and carvings of considerable merit. The plan of the city itself was taken from that of the Chinese metropolis. A broad central avenue led straight to the palace, and on either side of it ran four parallel streets, crossed at right angles by smaller thoroughfares. During this century the first sumptuary edict ordered that the dwellings of all high officials and opulent civilians should have tiled roofs and be coloured red, the latter injunction being evidently intended to stop the use of logs carrying their bark. Tiles thenceforth became the orthodox covering for a roof, but vermilion, being regarded as a religious colour, found no favour in private dwellings. In the 9th century, after the capital had been established at Kiōto, the palace of the sovereigns and the mansions of ministers and nobles were built on a scale of unprecedented grandeur. It is true that all the structures of the time had the defect of a box-like appearance. Massive, towering roofs, which impart an air of stateliness even to a wooden building and yet, by their graceful curves, avoid any suggestion of ponderosity, were still confined to Buddhist edifices. The architect of private dwellings attached more importance to satin-surfaced boards and careful joinery than to any appearance of strength or solidity.

Except for the number of buildings composing it, the palace had little to distinguish it from a nobleman’s mansion. The latter consisted of a principal hall, where the master of the house lived, ate and slept, and of three suites of chambers, disposed on the north, the east and the west of the principal hall. In the northern suite the lady of the house dwelt, the eastern and western suites being allotted to other members of the family. Corridors joined the principal hall to the subordinate edifices, for as yet the idea had not been conceived of having more than one chamber under the same roof. The principal hall was usually 42 ft. square. Its centre was occupied by a “parent chamber,” 30 ft. square, around which ran an ambulatory and a veranda, each 6 ft. wide. The parent chamber and the ambulatory were ceiled, sometimes with interlacing strips of bark or broad laths, so as to produce a plaited effect; sometimes with plain boards. The veranda had no ceiling. Sliding doors, a characteristic feature of modern Japanese houses, had not yet come into use, and no means were provided for closing the veranda, but the ambulatory was surrounded by a wall of latticed timber or plain boards, the lower half of which could be removed altogether, whereas the upper half, suspended from hooks, could be swung upward and outward. Privacy was obtained by blinds of split bamboo, and the parent chamber was separated from the ambulatory by similar bamboo blinds with silk cords for raising or lowering them, or by curtains. The thick rectangular mats of uniform size which, fitting together so as to present a level unbroken surface, cover the floor of all modern Japanese houses, were not yet in use: floors were boarded, having only a limited space matted. This form of mansion underwent little modification until the 12th century, when the introduction of the Zen sect of Buddhism with its contemplative practice called for greater privacy. Interiors were then divided into smaller rooms by means of sliding doors covered with thin rice-paper, which permitted the passage of light while obstructing vision; the hanging lattices were replaced by wooden doors which could be slid along a groove so as to be removable in the daytime, and an alcove was added in the principal chamber for a sacred picture or Buddhist image to serve as an object of contemplation for a devotee while practising the rite of abstraction. Thus the main features of the Japanese dwelling-house were evolved, and little change took place subsequently, except that the brush of the painter was freely used for decorating partitions, and in aristocratic mansions unlimited care was exercised in the choice of rare woods.

The Buddhist temple underwent little change at Japanese hands except in the matter of decoration. Such as it was in outline when first erected in accordance with Chinese models, such it virtually remained, though in later times all the resources of the sculptor and the painter were employed to beautify it externally and internally.

“The building, sometimes of huge dimensions, is invariably surrounded by a raised gallery, reached by a flight of steps in the centre of the approach front, the balustrade of which is a continuation of the gallery railing. This gallery is sometimes supported upon a deep system of bracketing, corbelled out from the feet of the main pillars. Within this raised gallery, which is sheltered by the over-sailing eaves, there is, in the larger temples, a columned loggia passing round the two sides and the front of the building, or, in some cases, placed on the façade only. The ceilings of the loggias are generally sloping, with richly carved roof-timbers showing below at intervals; and quaintly carved braces connect the outer pillars with the main posts of the building. Some temples are to be seen in which the ceiling of the loggia is boarded flat and decorated with large paintings of dragons in black and gold. The intercolumniation is regulated by a standard of about six or seven feet, and the general result of the treatment of columns, wall-posts, &c., is that the whole mural space, not filled in with doors or windows, is divided into regular oblong panels, which sometimes receive plaster, sometimes boarding and sometimes rich framework and carving or painted panels. Diagonal bracing or strutting is nowhere to be found, and in many cases mortises and other joints are such as very materially to weaken the timbers at their points of connexion. It would seem that only the immense weight of the roofs and their heavy projections prevent a collapse of some of these structures in high winds. The principal façade of the temple is filled in one, two or three compartments with hinged doors, variously ornamented and folding outwards, sometimes in double folds. From these doorways, generally left open, the interior light is principally obtained, windows, as the term is generally understood, being rare. An elaborate cornice of wooden bracketing crowns the walls, forming one of the principal ornaments of the building. The whole disposition of pillars, posts, brackets and rafters is harmonically arranged according to some measure of the standard of length. A very important feature of the façade is the portico or porch-way, which covers the principal steps and is generally formed by producing the central portion of the main roof over the steps and supporting such projection upon isolated wooden pillars braced together near the top with horizontal ties, carved, moulded and otherwise fantastically decorated. Above these ties are the cornice brackets and beams, corresponding in general design to the cornice of the walls, and the intermediate space is filled with open carvings of dragons or other characteristic designs. The forms of roof are various, but mostly they commence in a steep slope at the top, gradually flattening towards the eaves so as to produce a slightly concave appearance, this concavity being rendered more emphatic by the tilt which is given to the eaves at the four corners. The appearance of the ends of the roof is half hip, half gable. Heavy ribs of tile-cresting with large terminals are carried along the ridge and the slope of the gable. The result of the whole is very picturesque, and has the advantage of looking equally satisfactory from any point of view. The interior arrangement of wall columns, horizontal beams and cornice bracketing corresponds with that on the outside. The ceiling is invariably boarded and subdivided by ribs into small rectangular coffers. Sometimes painting is introduced into these panels and lacquer and metal clasps are added to the ribs. When the temple is of very large dimensions an interior peristyle of pillars is introduced to assist in supporting the roof, and in such cases each pillar carries profuse bracketing corresponding to that of the cornice. The construction of the framework of the Japanese roof is such that the weights all act vertically; there is no thrust on the outer walls, and every available point of the interior is used as a means of support.

“The floor is partly boarded and partly matted. The shrines, altars and oblatory tables are placed at the back in the centre, and there are often other secondary shrines at the sides. In temples of the best class the floor of the gallery and of the central portion of the main building from entrance to altar are richly lacquered; in those of inferior class they are merely polished by continued rubbing.”—(J. Conder, in the Proceedings of the Royal Institute of British Architects.)

None of the magnificence of the Buddhist temple belongs to the Shintō shrine. In the case of the latter conservatism has been absolute from time immemorial. The shrines of Ise, which may be called the Mecca of Shintō devotees, are believed to present to-day precisely the appearance they presented in 478, when they were moved thither in obedience to a revelation from the Sun-goddess. It has been the custom to rebuild them every twentieth year, alternately on each of two sites set apart for the purpose, the features of the old edifice being reproduced in the new with scrupulous accuracy.

They are enlarged replicas of the primeval wooden hut described above, having rafters with their upper ends crossed; thatched or shingled roof; boarded floors, and logs laid on the roof-ridge at right angles for the purpose of binding the ridge and the rafters firmly together. A thatched roof is imperative in the orthodox shrine, but in modern days tiles or sheets of copper are sometimes substituted. At Ise, however, no such novelties are tolerated. The avenue of approach generally passes under a structure called torii. Originally designed as a perch for fowls which sang to the deities at daybreak, this torii subsequently came to be erroneously regarded as a gateway characteristic of the Shintō shrine. It consists of two thick trunks placed upright, their upper ends mortised into a horizontal log which projects beyond them at either side. The structure derives some grace from its extreme simplicity.

Textile Fabrics and Embroidery.—In no branch of applied art does the decorative genius of Japan show more attractive results than in that of textile fabrics, and in none has there been more conspicuous progress during recent years. Her woven and embroidered stuffs have always been beautiful; but in former times few pieces of size and splendour were produced, if we except the curtains used for draping festival cars and the hangings of temples. Tapestry, as it is employed in Europe, was not thought of, nor indeed could the small hand-looms of the period be easily adapted to such work. All that has been changed, however. Arras of large dimensions, showing remarkable workmanship and grand combinations of colours, is now manufactured in Kiōto, the product of years of patient toil on the part of weaver and designer alike. Kawashima of Kiōto has acquired high reputation for work of this kind. He inaugurated the new departure a few years ago by copying a Gobelin, but it may safely be asserted that no Gobelin will bear comparison with the pieces now produced in Japan.

The most approved fashion of weaving is called tsuzure-ori (linked-weaving); that is to say, the cross threads are laid in with the fingers and pushed into their places with a comb by hand, very little machinery being used. The threads extend only to the outlines of each figure, and it follows that every part of the pattern has a rim of minute holes like pierced lines separating postage stamps in a sheet, the effect being that the design seems to hang suspended in the ground—linked into it, as the Japanese term implies. A specimen of this nature recently manufactured by Kawashima’s weavers measured 20 ft. by 13, and represented the annual festival at the Nikkō mausolea. The chief shrine was shown, as were also the gate and the long flight of stone steps leading up to it, several other buildings, the groves of cryptomeria that surround the mausolea, and the festival procession. All the architectural and decorative details, all the carvings and colours, all the accessories—everything was wrought in silk, and each of the 1500 figures forming the procession wore exactly appropriate costume. Even this wealth of detail, remarkable as it was, seemed less surprising than the fact that the weaver had succeeded in producing the effect of atmosphere and aerial perspective. Through the graceful cryptomerias distant mountains and the still more distant sky could be seen, and between the buildings in the foreground and those in the middle distance atmosphere appeared to be perceptible. Two years of incessant labour with relays of artisans working steadily throughout the twenty-four hours were required to finish this piece. Naturally such specimens are not produced in large numbers. Next in decorative importance to tsuzure-ori stands yūzen birôdo, commonly known among English-speaking people as cut velvet. Dyeing by the yūzen process is an innovation of modern times. The design is painted on the fabric, after which the latter is steamed, and the picture is ultimately fixed by methods which are kept secret. The soft silk known as habutaye is a favourite ground for such work, but silk crape also is largely employed. No other method permits the decorator to achieve such fidelity and such boldness of draughtsmanship. The difference between the results of the ordinary and the yūzen processes of dyeing is, in fact, the difference between a stencilled sketch and a finished picture. In the case of cut velvet, the yūzen process is supplemented as follows: The cutter, who works at an ordinary wooden bench, has no tool except a small sharp chisel with a V-shaped point. This chisel is passed into an iron pencil having at the end guards, between which the point of the chisel projects, so that it is impossible for the user to cut beyond a certain depth. When the velvet comes to him, it already carries a coloured picture permanently fixed by the yūzen process, but the wires have not been withdrawn. It is, in fact, velvet that has passed through all the usual stages of manufacture except the cutting of the thread along each wire and the withdrawal of the wires. The cutting artist lays the piece of unfinished velvet on his bench, and proceeds to carve into the pattern with his chisel, just as though he were shading the lines of the design with a steel pencil. When the pattern is lightly traced, he uses his knife delicately; when the lines are strong and the shadows heavy, he makes the point pierce deeply. In short, the little chisel becomes in his fingers a painter’s brush, and when it is remembered that, the basis upon which he works being simply a thread of silk, his hand must be trained to such delicacy of muscular effort as to be capable of arresting the edge of the knife at varying depths within the diameter of the tiny filament, the difficulty of the achievement will be understood. Of course it is to be noted that the edge of the cutting tool is never allowed to trespass upon a line which the exigencies of the design require to be solid. The veining of a cherry petal, for example, the tessellation of a carp’s scales, the serration of a leaf’s edge—all these lines remain intact, spared by the cutter’s tool, while the leaf itself, or the petal, or the scales of the fish, have the threads forming them cut so as to show the velvet nap and to appear in soft, low relief. In one variety of this fabric, a slip of gold foil is laid under each wire, and left in position after the wire is withdrawn, the cutting tool being then used with freedom in some parts of the design, so that the gold gleams through the severed thread, producing a rich and suggestive effect. Velvet, however, is not capable of being made the basis for pictures so elaborate and microscopically accurate as those produced by the yūzen process on silk crape or habutaye. The rich-toned, soft plumage of birds or the magnificent blending of colours in a bunch of peonies or chrysanthemums cannot be obtained with absolute fidelity on the ribbed surface of velvet.

The embroiderer’s craft has been followed for centuries in Japan with eminent success, but whereas it formerly ranked with dyeing and weaving, it has now come to be regarded as an art. Formerly the embroiderer was content to produce a pattern with his needle, now he paints a picture. So perfectly does the modern Japanese embroiderer elaborate his scheme of values that all the essential elements of pictorial effects—chiaroscuro, aerial perspective and atmosphere are present in his work. Thus a graceful and realistic school has replaced the comparatively stiff and conventional style of former times.

Further, an improvement of a technical character was recently made, which has the effect of adding greatly to the durability of these embroideries. Owing to the use of paper among the threads of the embroidery and sizing in the preparation of the stuff forming the ground, every operation of folding used to cause perceptible injury to a piece, so that after a few years it acquired a crumpled and dingy appearance. But by the new method embroiderers now succeed in producing fabrics which defy all destructive influences—except, of course, dirt and decay.

Ceramics.—All research proves that up to the 12th century of the Christian era the ceramic ware produced in Japan was of a very rude character. The interest attaching to it is historical rather than technical. Pottery was certainly manufactured from an early date, and there is evidence that kilns existed in some fifteen provinces in the 10th century. But although the use of the potter’s wheel had long been understood, the objects produced were simple utensils to contain offerings of rice, fruit and fish at the austere ceremonials of the Shintō faith, jars for storing seeds, and vessels for common domestic use. In the 13th century, however, the introduction of tea from China, together with vessels for infusing and serving it, revealed to the Japanese a new conception of ceramic possibilities, for the potters of the Middle Kingdom had then (Sung dynasty) fully entered the road which was destined to carry them ultimately to a high pinnacle of their craft. It had long been customary in Japan to send students to China for the purpose of studying philosophy and religion, and she now (1223) sent a potter, Kato Shirozaemon, who, on his return, opened a kiln at Seto in the province of Owari, and began to produce little jars for preserving tea and cups for drinking it. These were conspicuously superior to anything previously manufactured. Kato is regarded as the father of Japanese ceramics. But the ware produced by him and his successors at the Seto kilns, or by their contemporaries in other parts of the country, had no valid claim to decorative excellence. Nearly three centuries elapsed before a radically upward movement took place, and on this occasion also the inspiration came from China. In 1520 a potter named Gorodayu Goshonzui (known to posterity as Shonzui) made his way to Fuchow and thence to King-te-chen, where, after five years’ study, he acquired the art of manufacturing porcelain, as distinguished from pottery, together with the art of applying decoration in blue under the glaze. He established his kiln at Arita in Hizen, and the event marked the opening of the second epoch of Japanese ceramics. Yet the new departure then made did not lead far. The existence of porcelain clay in Hizen was not discovered for many years, and Shonzui’s pieces being made entirely with kaolin imported from China, their manufacture ceased after his death, though knowledge of the processes learned by him survived and was used in the production of greatly inferior wares. The third clearly differentiated epoch was inaugurated by the discovery of true kaolin at Izumi-yama in Hizen, the discoverer being one of the Korean potters who came to Japan in the train of Hideyoshi’s generals returning from the invasion of Korea, and the date of the discovery being about 1605. Thus much premised, it becomes possible to speak in detail of the various wares for which Japan became famous.

The principal kinds of ware are Hizen, Kiōto, Satsuma, Kutani, Owari, Bizen, Takatori, Banko, Izumo and Yatsushiro.

There are three chief varieties of Hizen ware, namely, (1) the enamelled porcelain of Arita—the “old Japan” of European collectors; (2) the enamelled porcelain of Nabeshima; and (3) the blue and white, or plain white, porcelain of Hirado. The earliest manufacture of porcelain—as distinguished from pottery—began in the opening years of the 16th century, but its materials were exotic. Genuine Japanese porcelain dates from about a century later. The decoration was confined to blue under the glaze, and as an object of art the ware possessed no special merit. Not until the year 1620 do we find any evidence of the style for which Arita porcelain afterwards became famous, namely, decoration with vitrifiable enamels. The first efforts in this direction were comparatively crude; but before the middle of the 17th century, two experts—Goroshichi and Kakiemon—carried the art to a point of considerable excellence. From that time forward the Arita factories turned out large quantities of porcelain profusely decorated with blue under the glaze and coloured enamels over it. Many pieces were exported by the Dutch, and some also were specially manufactured to their order. Specimens of the latter are still preserved in European collections, where they are classed as genuine examples of Japanese ceramic art, though beyond question their style of decoration was greatly influenced by Dutch interference. The porcelains of Arita were carried to the neighbouring town of Imari for sale and shipment. Hence the ware came to be known to Japanese and foreigners alike as Imari-yaki (yaki = anything baked; hence ware).

The Nabeshima porcelain—so called because of its production at private factories under the special patronage of Nabeshima Naoshige, feudal chief of Hizen—was produced at Okawachiyama. It differed from Imari-yaki in the milky whiteness and softness of its glaze, the comparative sparseness of its enamelled decoration, and the relegation of blue sous couverte to an entirely secondary place. This is undoubtedly the finest jewelled porcelain in Japan; the best examples leave nothing to be desired. The factory’s period of excellence began about the year 1680, and culminated at the close of the 18th century.

The Hirado porcelain—so called because it enjoyed the special patronage of Matsuura, feudal chief of Hirado—was produced at Mikawa-uchi-yama, but did not attain excellence until the middle of the 18th century, from which time until about 1830 specimens of rare beauty were produced. They were decorated with blue under the glaze, but some were pure white with exquisitely chiselled designs incised or in relief. The production was always scanty, and, owing to official prohibitions, the ware did not find its way into the general market.

The history of Kiōto ware—which, being for the most part faience, belongs to an entirely different category from the Hizen porcelains spoken of above—is the history of individual ceramists rather than of special manufactures. Speaking broadly, however, four different varieties are usually distinguished. They are raku-yaki, awata-yaki, iwakura-yaki and kiyomizu-yaki.

Raku-yaki is essentially the domestic faience of Japan; for, being entirely hand-made and fired at a very low temperature, its manufacture offers few difficulties, and has consequently been carried on by amateurs in their own homes at various places throughout the country. The raku-yaki of Kiōto is the parent of all the rest. It was first produced by a Korean who emigrated to Japan in the early part of the 16th century. But the term raku-yaki did not come into use until the close of the century, when Chōjiro (artistic name, Chōryū) received from Hideyoshi (the Taikō) a seal bearing the ideograph raku, with which he thenceforth stamped his productions. Thirteen generations of the same family carried on the work, each using a stamp with the same ideograph, its calligraphy, however, differing sufficiently to be identified by connoisseurs. The faience is thick and clumsy, having soft, brittle and very light pâte. The staple type has black glaze showing little lustre, and in choice varieties this is curiously speckled and pitted with red. Salmon-coloured, red, yellow and white glazes are also found, and in late specimens gilding was added. The raku faience owed much of its popularity to the patronage of the tea clubs. The nature of its paste and glaze adapted it for the infusion of powdered tea, and its homely character suited the austere canons of the tea ceremonies.

Awata-yaki is the best known among the ceramic productions of Kiōto. There is evidence to show that the art of decoration with enamels over the glaze reached Kiōto from Hizen in the middle of the 17th century. Just at that time there flourished in the Western capital a potter of remarkable ability, called Nomura Seisuke. He immediately utilized the new method, and produced many beautiful examples of jewelled faience, having close, hard pâte, yellowish-white, or brownish-white, glaze covered with a network of fine crackle, and sparse decoration in pure full-bodied colours—red, green, gold and silver. He worked chiefly at Awata, and thus brought that factory into prominence. Nomura Seisuke, or Ninsei as he is commonly called, was one of Japan’s greatest ceramists. Genuine examples of his faience have always been highly prized, and numerous imitations were subsequently produced, all stamped with the ideograph Ninsei. After Ninsei’s time, the most renowned ceramists of the Awata factories were Kenzan (1688-1740); Ebisei, a contemporary of Kenzan; Dōhachi (1751-1763), who subsequently moved to Kiyōmizu-zaka, another part of Kiōto, the faience of which constitutes the Kiyōmizu-yaki mentioned above; Kinkōzan (1745-1760); Hōzan (1690-1721); Taizan (1760-1800); Bizan (1810-1838); and Tanzan, who was still living in 1909. It must be noted that several of these names, as Kenzan, Dōhachi, Kinkōzan, Hōzan and Taizan, were not limited to one artist. They are family names, and though the dates we have given indicate the eras of the most noted ceramists in each family, amateurs must not draw any chronological conclusion from the mere fact that a specimen bears such and such a name.

The origin of the Iwakura-yaki is somewhat obscure, and its history, at an early date, becomes confused with that of the Awata yaki, from which, indeed, it does not materially differ.

In the term Kiyōmizu-yaki may be included roughly all the faience of Kiōto, with the exception of the three varieties described above. The distinction between Kiyōmizu, Awata and Iwakura is primarily local. They are parts of the same city, and if their names have been used to designate particular classes of pottery, it is not because the technical or decorative features of each class distinguish it from the other two, but chiefly for the purpose of identifying the place of production. On the slopes called Kiyōmizu-zaka and Gojō-zaka lived a number of ceramists, all following virtually the same models with variations due to individual genius. The principal Kiyōmizu artists were: Ebisei, who moved from Awata to Gojō-zaka in 1688; Eisen and Rokubei, pupils of Ebisei; Mokubei, a pupil of Eisen, but more celebrated than his master; Shūhei (1790-1810), Kentei (1782-1820), and Zengoro Hozen, generally known as Eiraku (1790-1850). Eisen was the first to manufacture porcelain (as distinguished from faience) in Kiōto, and this branch of the art was carried to a high standard of excellence by Eiraku, whose speciality was a rich coral-red glaze with finely executed decoration in gold. The latter ceramist excelled also in the production of purple, green and yellow glazes, which he combined with admirable skill and taste. Some choice ware of the latter type was manufactured by him in Kishū, by order of the feudal chief of that province. It is known as Kaira-ku-yen-yaki (ware of the Kairaku park).

LACQUER

POTTERY AND PORCELAIN

No phrase is commoner in the mouths of Western collectors than “Old Satsuma”; no ware is rarer in Western collections. Nine hundred and ninety-nine pieces out of every thousand that do duty as genuine examples of this prince of faiences are simply examples of the skill of modern forgers. In point of fact, the production of faience decorated with gold and coloured enamels may be said to have commenced at the beginning of the eighth century in Satsuma. Some writers maintain that it did actually commence then, and that nothing of the kind had existed there previously. Setting aside, however, the strong improbability that a style of decoration so widely practised and so highly esteemed could have remained unknown during a century and a half to experts working for one of the most puissant chieftains in Japan, we have the evidence of trustworthy traditions and written records that enamelled faience was made by the potters at Tatsumonji—the principal factory of Satsuma-ware in early days—as far back as the year 1676. Mitsuhisa, then feudal lord of Satsuma, was a munificent patron of art. He summoned to his fief the painter Tangen—a pupil of the renowned Tanyū, who died in 1674—and employed him to paint faience or to furnish designs for the ceramists of Tatsumonji. The ware produced under these circumstances is still known by the name of Satsuma Tangen. But the number of specimens was small. Destined chiefly for private use or for presents, their decoration was delicate rather than rich, the colour chiefly employed being brown, or reddish brown, under the glaze, and the decoration over the glaze being sparse and chaste. Not until the close of the l8th century or the beginning of the 19th did the more profuse fashion of enamelled decoration come to be largely employed. It was introduced by two potters who had visited Kiōto, and there observed the ornate methods so well illustrated in the wares of Awata and Kiyōmizu. At the same time a strong impetus was given to the production of faience at Tadeno—then the chief factory in Satsuma—owing to the patronage of Shimazu Tamanobu, lord of the province. To this increase in production and to the more elaborate application of verifiable enamels may be attributed the erroneous idea that Satsuma faience decorated with gold and coloured enamels had its origin at the close of the 18th century. For all the purposes of the ordinary collector it may be said to have commenced then, and to have come to an end about 1860; but for the purposes of the historian we must look farther back.

The ceramic art in Satsuma owed much to the aid of a number of Korean experts who settled there after the return of the Japanese forces from Korea. One of these men, Boku Heii, discovered (1603) clay fitted for the manufacture of white craquelé faience. This was the subsequently celebrated Satsuma-yaki. But in Boku’s time, and indeed as long as the factories flourished, many other kinds of faience were produced, the principal having rich black or flambé glazes, while a few were green or yellow monochromes. One curious variety, called same-yaki, had glaze chagrined like the skin of a shark. Most of the finest pieces of enamelled faience were the work of artists at the Tadeno factory, while the best specimens of other kinds were by the artists of Tatsumonji.

The porcelain of Kutani is among those best known to Western collectors, though good specimens ofthe old ware have always been scarce. Its manufacture dates from the close of the 17th century, when the feudal chief of Kaga took the industry under his patronage. There were two principal varieties of the ware: ao-Kutani, so called because of a green (ao) enamel of great brilliancy and beauty which was largely used in its decoration, and Kutani with painted and enamelled pâte varying from hard porcelain to pottery. Many of the pieces are distinguished by a peculiar creamy whiteness of glaze, suggesting the idea that they were intended to imitate the soft-paste wares of China. The enamels are used to delineate decorative subjects and are applied in masses, the principal colours being green, yellow and soft Prussian blue, all brilliant and transparent, with the exception of the last which is nearly opaque. In many cases we find large portions of the surface completely covered with green or yellow enamel overlying black diapers or scroll patterns. The second variety of Kutani ware may often be mistaken for “old Japan” (i.e. Imari porcelain). The most characteristic examples of it are distinguishable, however, by the preponderating presence of a peculiar russet red, differing essentially from the full-bodied and comparatively brilliant colour of the Arita pottery. Moreover, the workmen of Kaga did not follow the Arita precedent of massing blue under the glaze. In the great majority of cases they did not use blue at all in this position, and when they did, its place was essentially subordinate. They also employed silver freely for decorative purposes, whereas we rarely find it thus used on “old Japan” porcelain.

About the time (1843) of the ao-Kutani revival, a potter called lida Hachiroemon introduced a style of decoration which subsequently came to be regarded as typical of all Kaga procelains. Taking the Eiraku porcelains of Kiōto as models, Hachiroemon employed red grounds with designs traced on them in gold. The style was not absolutely new in Kaga. We find similar decoration on old and choice examples of Kutani-yaki. But the character of the old red differs essentially from that of the modern manufacture—the former being a soft, subdued colour, more like a bloom than an enamel; the latter a glossy and comparatively crude pigment. In Hachiroemon’s time and during the twenty years following the date of his innovation, many beautiful examples of elaborately decorated Kutani porcelain were produced. The richness, profusion and microscopic accuracy of their decoration could scarcely have been surpassed; but, with very rare exceptions, their lack of delicacy of technique disqualifies them to rank as fine porcelains.

It was at the little village of Seto, some five miles from Nagoya, the chief town of the province of Owari, or Bishū, that the celebrated Kato Shirozaemon made the first Japanese faience worthy to be considered a technical success. Shirozaemon produced dainty little tea-jars, ewers and other cha-no-yu utensils. These, being no longer stoved in an inverted position, as had been the habit before Shirozaemon’s time, were not disfigured by the bare, blistered lips of their predecessors. Their pâte was close and well-manufactured pottery, varying in colour from dark brown to russet, and covered with thick, lustrous glazes—black, amber-brown, chocolate and yellowish grey. These glazes were not monochromatic: they showed differences of tint, and sometimes marked varieties of colour; as when chocolate-brown passed into amber, or black was relieved by streaks and clouds of grey and dead-leaf red. This ware came to be known as Tōshiro-yaki, a term obtained by combining the second syllable of Katō with the two first of Shirozaemon. A genuine example of it is at present worth many times its weight in gold to Japanese dilettanti, though in foreign eyes it is little more than interesting. Shirozaemon was succeeded at the kiln by three generations of his family, each representative retaining the name of Tōshiro, and each distinguishing himself by the excellence of his work. Thenceforth Seto became the headquarters of the manufacture of cha-no-yu utensils, and many of the tiny pieces turned out there deserve high admiration, their technique being perfect, and their mahogany, russet-brown, amber and buff glazes showing wonderful lustre and richness. Seto, in fact, acquired such a widespread reputation for its ceramic productions that the term seto-mono (Seto article) came to be used generally for all pottery and porcelain, just as “China” is in the West. Seto has now ceased to be a pottery-producing centre, and has become the chief porcelain manufactory of Japan. The porcelain industry was inaugurated in 1807 by Tamikichi, a local ceramist, who had visited Hizen and spent three years there studying the necessary processes. Owari abounds in porcelain stone; but it does not occur in constant or particularly simple forms, and as the potters have not yet learned to treat their materials scientifically, their work is often marred by unforeseen difficulties. For many years after Tamikichi’s processes had begun to be practised, the only decoration employed was blue under the glaze. Sometimes Chinese cobalt was used, sometimes Japanese, and sometimes a mixture of both. To Kawamoto Hansuke, who flourished about 1830-1845, belongs the credit of having turned out the richest and most attractive ware of this class. But, speaking generally, Japanese blues do not rank on the same decorative level with those of China. At Arita, although pieces were occasionally turned out of which the colour could not be surpassed in purity and brilliancy, the general character of the blue sous couverte was either thin or dull. At Hirado the ceramists affected a lighter and more delicate tone than that of the Chinese, and, in order to obtain it, subjected the choice pigment of the Middle Kingdom to refining processes of great severity. The Hirado blue, therefore, belongs to a special aesthetic category. But at Owari the experts were content with an inferior colour, and their blue-and-white porcelains never enjoyed a distinguished reputation, though occasionally we find a specimen of great merit.

Decoration with vitrifiable enamels over the glaze, though it began to be practised at Owari about the year 1840, never became a speciality of the place. Nowadays, indeed, numerous examples of porcelains decorated in this manner are classed among Owari products. But they receive their decoration, almost without exception, in Tōkyō or Yokohama, where a large number of artists, called e-tsuke-shi, devote themselves entirely to porcelain-painting. These men seldom use vitrifiable enamels, pigments being much more tractable and less costly. The dominant feature of the designs is pictorial. They are frankly adapted to Western taste. Indeed, of this porcelain it may be said that, from the monster pieces of blue-and-white manufactured at Seto—vases six feet high and garden pillar-lamps half as tall again do not dismay the Bishū ceramist—to tiny coffee-cups decorated in Tōkyō, with their delicate miniatures of birds, flowers, insects, fishes and so forth, everything indicates the death of the old severe aestheticism. To such a depth of debasement had the ceramic art fallen in Owari, that before the happy renaissance of the past ten years, Nagoya discredited itself by employing porcelain as a base for cloisonné enamelling. Many products of this vitiated industry have found their way into the collections of foreigners.

Pottery was produced at several hamlets in Bizen as far back as the 14th century, but ware worthy of artistic notice did not make its appearance until the close of the 16th century, when the Taikō himself paid a visit to the factory at Imbe. Thenceforth utensils for the use of the tea clubs began to be manufactured. This Bizen-yaki was red stoneware, with thin diaphanous glaze. Made of exceedingly refractory clay, it underwent stoving for more than three weeks, and was consequently remarkable for its hardness and metallic timbre. Some fifty years later, the character of the choicest Bizen-yaki underwent a marked change. It became slate-coloured or bluish-brown faience, with pâte as fine as pipe-clay, but very hard. In the ao-Bizen (blue Bizen), as well as in the red variety, figures of mythical beings and animals, birds, fishes and other natural objects, were modelled with a degree of plastic ability that can scarcely be spoken of in too high terms. Representative specimens are truly admirable—every line, every contour faithful. The production was very limited, and good pieces soon ceased to be procurable except at long intervals and heavy expense. The Bizen-yaki familiar to Western collectors is comparatively coarse brown or reddish brown, stoneware, modelled rudely, though sometimes redeemed by touches of the genius never entirely absent from the work of the Japanese artisan-artist. Easy to be confounded with it is another ware of the same type manufactured at Shidoro in the province of Tōtōmi.

The Japanese potters could never vie with the Chinese in the production of glazes: the wonderful monochromes and polychromes of the Middle Kingdom had no peers anywhere. In Japan they were most closely approached by the faience of Takatori in the province of Chikuzen. In its early days the ceramic industry of this province owed something to the assistance of Korean experts who settled there after the expedition of 1592. But its chief development took place under the direction of Igarashi Jizaemon, an amateur ceramist, who, happening to visit Chikuzen about 1620, was taken under the protection of the chief of the fief and munificently treated. Taking the renowned yao-pien-yao, or “transmutation ware” of China as a model, the Takatori potters endeavoured, by skilful mixing of colouring materials, to reproduce the wonderful effects of oxidization seen in the Chinese ware. They did not, indeed, achieve their ideal, but they did succeed in producing some exquisitely lustrous glazes of the flambé type, rich transparent brown passing into claret colour, with flecks or streaks of white and clouds of “iron dust.” The pâte of this faience was of the finest description, and the technique in every respect faultless. Unfortunately, the best experts confined themselves to working for the tea clubs, and consequently produced only insignificant pieces, as tea-jars, cups and little ewers. During the 18th century, a departure was made from these strict canons. From this period date most of the specimens best known outside Japan—cleverly modelled figures of mythological beings and animals covered with lustrous variegated glazes, the general colours being grey or buff, with tints of green, chocolate, brown and sometimes blue.

A ware of which considerable quantities have found their way westward of late years in the Awaji-yaki, so called from the island of Awaji where it is manufactured in the village of Iga. It was first produced between the years 1830 and 1840 by one Kajū Mimpei, a man of considerable private means who devoted himself to the ceramic art out of pure enthusiasm. His story is full of interest, but it must suffice here to note the results of his enterprise. Directing his efforts at first to reproducing the deep green and straw-yellow glazes of China, he had exhausted almost his entire resources before success came, and even then the public was slow to recognize the merits of his ware. Nevertheless he persevered, and in 1838 we find him producing not only green and yellow monochromes, but also greyish white and mirror-black glazes of high excellence. So thoroughly had he now mastered the management of glazes that he could combine yellow, green, white and claret colour in regular patches to imitate tortoise-shell. Many of his pieces have designs incised or in relief, and others are skilfully decorated with gold and silver. Awaji-yaki, or Mimpei-yaki as it is often called, is generally porcelain, but we occasionally find specimens which may readily be mistaken for Awata faience.

Banko faience is a universal favourite with foreign collectors. The type generally known to them is exceedingly light ware, for the most part made of light grey, unglazed clay, and having hand-modelled decoration in relief. But there are numerous varieties. Chocolate or dove-coloured grounds with delicate diapers in gold and engobe; brown or black faience with white, yellow and pink designs incised or in relief; pottery curiously and deftly marbled by combinations of various coloured clays—these and many other kinds are to be found, all, however, presenting one common feature, namely, skilful finger-moulding and a slight roughening of the surface as though it had received the impression of coarse linen or crape before baking. This modern banko-yaki is produced chiefly at Yokkaichi in the province of Ise. It is entirely different from the original banko-ware made in Kuwana, in the same province, by Numanami Gozaemon at the close of the 18th century. Gozaemon was an imitator. He took for his models the raku faience of Kiōto, the masterpieces of Ninsei and Kenzan, the rococo wares of Korea, the enamelled porcelain of China, and the blue-and-white ware of Delft. He did not found a school, simply because he had nothing new to teach, and the fact that a modern ware goes by the same name as his productions is simply because his seal—the inscription on which (banko, everlasting) suggested the name of the ware—subsequently (1830) fell into the hands of one Mori Yūsetsu, who applied it to his own ware. Mori Yūsetsu, however, had more originality than Numanami. He conceived the idea of shaping his pieces by putting the mould inside and pressing the clay with the hand into the matrix. The consequence was that his wares received the design on the inner as well as the outer surface, and were moreover thumb-marked—essential characteristics of the banko-yaki now so popular.

Among a multitude of other Japanese wares, space allows us to mention only two, those of Izumo and Yatsushiro. The chief of the former is faience, having light grey, close pâte and yellow or straw-coloured glaze, with or without crackle, to which is applied decoration in gold and green enamel. Another variety has chocolate glaze, clouded with amber and flecked with gold dust. The former faience had its origin at the close of the 17th century, the latter at the close of the 18th; but the Izumo-yaki now procurable is a modern production.

The Yatsushiro faience is a production of the province of Higo, where a number of Korean potters settled at the close of the 17th century. It is the only Japanese ware in which the characteristics of a Korean original are unmistakably preserved. Its diaphanous, pearl-grey glaze, uniform, lustrous and finely crackled, overlying encaustic decoration in white slip, the fineness of its warm reddish pâte, and the general excellence of its technique, have always commanded admiration. It is produced now in considerable quantities, but the modern ware falls far short of its predecessor.

Many examples of the above varieties deserve the enthusiastic admiration they have received, yet they unquestionably belong to a lower rank of ceramic achievements than the choice productions of Chinese kilns. The potters of the Middle Kingdom, from the early eras of the Ming dynasty down to the latest years of the 18th century, stood absolutely without rivals as makers of porcelain. Their technical ability was incomparable—though in grace of decorative conception they yielded the palm to the Japanese—and the representative specimens they bequeathed to posterity remained, until quite recently, far beyond the imitative capacity of European or Asiatic experts. As for faience and pottery, however, the Chinese despised them in all forms, with one notable exception, the yi-hsing-yao, known in the Occident as boccaro. Even the yi-hsing-yao, too, owed much of its popularity to special utility. It was essentially the ware of the tea-drinker. If in the best specimens exquisite modelling, wonderful accuracy of finish and pâtes of interesting tints are found, such pieces are, none the less, stamped prominently with the character of utensils rather than with that of works of art. In short, the artistic output of Chinese kilns in their palmiest days was, not faience or pottery, but porcelain, whether of soft or hard paste. Japan, on the contrary, owes her ceramic distinction in the main to her faience. A great deal has been said by enthusiastic writers about the famille chrysanthemo-péonienne of Imari and the genre Kakiemon of Nabeshima, but these porcelains, beautiful as they undoubtedly are, cannot be placed on the same level with the kwan-yao and famille rose of the Chinese experts. The Imari ware, even though its thick biscuit and generally ungraceful shapes be omitted from the account, shows no enamels that can rival the exquisitely soft, broken tints of the famille rose; and the Kakiemon porcelain, for all its rich though chaste contrasts, lacks the delicate transmitted tints of the shell-like kwan-yao. So, too, the blue-and-white porcelain of Hirado, though assisted by exceptional tenderness of sous-pâte colour, by milk-white glaze, by great beauty of decorative design, and often by an admirable use of the modelling or graving tool, represents a ceramic achievement palpably below the soft paste kai-pien-yao of King-te-chen. It is a curious and interesting fact that this last product of Chinese skill remained unknown in Japan down to very recent days. In the eyes of a Chinese connoisseur, no blue-and-white porcelain worthy of consideration exists, or ever has existed, except the kai-pien-yao, with its imponderable pâte, its wax-like surface, and its rich, glowing blue, entirely free from superficiality or garishness and broken into a thousand tints by the microscopic crackle of the glaze. The Japanese, although they obtained from their neighbour almost everything of value she had to give them, did not know this wonderful ware, and their ignorance is in itself sufficient to prove their ceramic inferiority. There remains, too, a wide domain in which the Chinese developed high skill, whereas the Japanese can scarcely be said to have entered it at all; namely, the domain of monochromes and polychromes, striking every note of colour from the richest to the most delicate; the domain of truité and flambé glazes, of yō-pien-yao (transmutation ware), and of egg-shell with incised or translucid decoration. In all that region of achievement the Chinese potters stood alone and seemingly unapproachable. The Japanese, on the contrary, made a specialty of faience, and in that particular line they reached a high standard of excellence. No faience produced either in China or any other Oriental country can dispute the palm with really representative specimens of Satsuma ware. Not without full reason have Western connoisseurs lavished panegyrics upon that exquisite production. The faience of the Kiōto artists never reached quite to the level of the Satsuma in quality of pâte and glowing mellowness of decoration; their materials were slightly inferior. But their skill as decorators was as great as its range was wide, and they produced a multitude of masterpieces on which alone Japan’s ceramic fame might safely be rested.

When the mediatization of the fiefs, in 1871, terminated the local patronage hitherto extended so munificently to artists, the Japanese ceramists gradually learned that they must thenceforth depend chiefly upon the markets of Europe and America. They had to appeal, in short, to an entirely new public, and how to secure its approval was to them a perplexing problem. Having little to guide them, they often interpreted Western taste incorrectly, and impaired their own reputation in a corresponding degree. Thus, in the early years of the Meiji era, there was a period of complete prostitution. No new skill was developed, and what remained of the old was expended chiefly upon the manufacture of meretricious objects, disfigured by excess of decoration and not relieved by any excellence of technique. In spite of their artistic defects, these specimens were exported in considerable numbers by merchants in the foreign settlements, and their first cost being very low, they found a not unremunerative market. But as European and American collectors became better acquainted with the capacities of the pre-Meiji potters, the great inferiority of these new specimens was recognized, and the prices commanded by the old wares gradually appreciated. What then happened was very natural: imitations of the old wares were produced, and having been sufficiently disfigured by staining and other processes calculated to lend an air of rust and age, they were sold to ignorant persons, who laboured under the singular yet common hallucination that the points to be looked for in specimens from early kilns were, not technical excellence, decorative tastefulness and richness of colour, but dinginess, imperfections and dirt; persons who imagined, in short, that defects which they would condemn at once in new porcelains ought to be regarded as merits in old. Of course a trade of that kind, based on deception, could not have permanent success. One of the imitators of “old Satsuma” was among the first to perceive that a new line must be struck out. Yet the earliest results of his awakened perception helped to demonstrate still further the depraved spirit that had come over Japanese art. For he applied himself to manufacture wares having a close affinity with the shocking monstrosities used for sepulchral purposes in ancient Apulia, where fragments of dissected satyrs, busts of nymphs or halves of horses were considered graceful excrescences for the adornment of an amphora or a pithos. This Makuzu faience, produced by the now justly celebrated Miyagawa Shōzan of Ota (near Yokohama), survives in the form of vases and pots having birds, reptiles, flowers, crustacea and so forth plastered over the surface—specimens that disgrace the period of their manufacture, and represent probably the worst aberration of Japanese ceramic conception.

A production so degraded as the early Makuzu faience could not possibly have a lengthy vogue. Miyagawa soon began to cast about for a better inspiration, and found it in the monochromes and polychromes of the Chinese Kang-hsi and Yung-cheng kilns. The extraordinary value attaching to the incomparable red glazes of China, not only in the country of their origin but also in the United States, where collectors showed a fine instinct in this matter, seems to have suggested to Miyagawa the idea of imitation. He took for model the rich and delicate “liquid-dawn” monochrome, and succeeded in producing some specimens of considerable merit. Thenceforth his example was largely followed, and it may now be said that the tendency of many of the best Japanese ceramists is to copy Chinese chefs-d’œuvre. To find them thus renewing their reputation by reverting to Chinese models, is not only another tribute to the perennial supremacy of Chinese porcelains, but also a fresh illustration of the eclectic genius of Japanese art. All the products of this new effort are porcelains proper. Seven kilns are devoted, wholly or in part, to the new wares: belonging to Miyagawa Shōzan of Ota, Seifū Yōhei of Kiōto, Takemoto Hayata and Katō Tomojiro of Tōkyō, Higuchi Haruzane of Hirado, Shida Yasukyo of Kaga and Kato Masukichi of Seto.

Among the seven ceramists here enumerated, Seifū of Kiōto probably enjoys the highest reputation. If we except the ware of Satsuma, it may be said that nearly all the fine faience of Japan was manufactured formerly in Kiōto. Nomura Ninsei, in the middle of the 17th century, inaugurated a long era of beautiful productions with his cream-like “fish-roe” craquelé glazes, carrying rich decoration of clear and brilliant vitrifiable enamels. It was he who gave their first really artistic impulse to the kilns of Awata, Mizoro and Iwakura, whence so many delightful specimens of faience issued almost without interruption until the middle of the 19th century and continue to issue to-day. The three Kenzan, of whom the third died in 1820; Ebisei; the four Dōhachi, of whom the fourth was still alive in 1909; the Kagiya family, manufacturers of the celebrated Kinkōzan ware; Hōzan, whose imitations of Delft faience and his pâte-sur-pâte pieces with fern-scroll decoration remain incomparable; Taizan Yōhei, whose ninth descendant of the same name now produces fine specimens of Awata ware for foreign markets; Tanzan Yōshitaro and his son Rokuro, to whose credit stands a new departure in the form of faience having pâte-sur-pâte decoration of lace patterns, diapers and archaic designs executed in low relief with admirable skill and minuteness; the two Bizan, renowned for their representations of richly apparelled figures as decorative motives; Rokubei, who studied painting under Maruyama Ōkyō and followed the naturalistic style of that great artist; Mokubei, the first really expert manufacturer of translucid porcelain in Kiōto; Shūhei, Kintei, and above all, Zengoro Hōzen, the celebrated potter of Eiraku wares—these names and many others give to Kiōto ceramics an eminence as well as an individuality which few other wares of Japan can boast. Nor is it to be supposed that the ancient capital now lacks great potters. Okamura Yasutaro, commonly called Shōzan, produces specimens which only a very acute connoisseur can distinguish from the work of Nomura Ninsei; Tanzan Rokuro’s half-tint enamels and soft creamy glazes would have stood high in any epoch; Taizan Yōhei produces Awata faience not inferior to that of former days; Kagiya Sōbei worthily supports the reputation of the Kinkōzan ware; Kawamoto Eijiro has made to the order of a well-known Kiōto firm many specimens now figuring in foreign collections as old masterpieces; and Itō Tōzan succeeds in decorating faience with seven colours sous couverte (black, green, blue, russet-red, tea-brown, purple and peach), a feat never before accomplished. It is therefore an error to assert that Kiōto has no longer a title to be called a great ceramic centre. Seifū Yōhei, however, has the special faculty of manufacturing monochromatic and jewelled porcelain and faience, which differ essentially from the traditional Kiōto types, their models being taken directly from China. But a sharp distinction has to be drawn between the method of Seifū and that of the other six ceramists mentioned above as following Chinese fashions. It is this, that whereas the latter produce their chromatic effects by mixing the colouring matter with the glaze, Seifū paints the biscuit with a pigment over which he runs a translucid colourless glaze. The Kiōto artist’s process is much easier than that of his rivals, and although his monochromes are often of most pleasing delicacy and fine tone, they do not belong to the same category of technical excellence as the wares they imitate. From this judgment must be excepted, however, his ivory-white and céladon wares, as well as his porcelains decorated with blue, or blue and red sous couverte, and with vitrifiable enamels over the glaze. In these five varieties he is emphatically great. It cannot be said, indeed, that his céladon shows the velvety richness of surface and tenderness of colour that distinguished the old Kuang-yao and Lungchuan-yao of China, or that he has ever essayed the moss-edged crackle of the beautiful Ko-yao. But his céladon certainly equals the more modern Chinese examples from the Kang-hsi and Yung-cheng kilns. As for his ivory-white, it distinctly surpasses the Chinese Ming Chen-yao in every quality except an indescribable intimacy of glaze and pâte which probably can never be obtained by either Japanese or European methods.

Miyagawa Shōzan, or Makuzu, as he is generally called, has never followed Seifū’s example in descending from the difficult manipulation of coloured glazes to the comparatively simple process of painted biscuit. This comment does not refer to the use of blue and red sous couverte. In that class of beautiful ware the application of pigment to the unglazed pâte is inevitable, and both Seifū and Miyagawa, working on the same lines as their Chinese predecessors, produce porcelains that almost rank with choice Kang-hsi specimens, though they have not yet mastered the processes sufficiently to employ them in the manufacture of large imposing pieces or wares of moderate price. But in the matter of true monochromatic and polychromatic glazes, to Shōzan belongs the credit of having inaugurated Chinese fashions, and if he has never fully succeeded in achieving lang-yao (sang-de-bœuf), chi-hung (liquid-dawn red), chiang-tou-hung (bean-blossom red, the “peach-blow” of American collectors), or above all pin-kwo-tsing (apple-green with red bloom), his efforts to imitate them have resulted in some very interesting pieces.

Takemoto and Katō of Tōkyō entered the field subsequently to Shōzan, but followed the same models approximately. Takemoto, however, has made a speciality of black glazes, his aim being to rival the Sung Chien-yao, with its glaze of mirror-black or raven’s-wing green, and its leveret fur streaking or russet-moss dappling, the prince of all wares in the estimation of the Japanese tea-clubs. Like Shōzan, he is still very far from his original, but, also like Shōzan, he produces highly meritorious pieces in his efforts to reach an ideal that will probably continue to elude him for ever. Of Katō there is not much to be said. He has not succeeded in winning great distinction, but he manufactures some very delicate monochromes, fully deserving to be classed among prominent evidences of the new departure. Tōkyō was never a centre of ceramic production. Even during the 300 years of its conspicuous prosperity as the administrative capital of the Tokugawa shōguns, it had no noted factories, doubtless owing to the absence of any suitable potter’s clay in the immediate vicinity. Its only notable production of a ceramic character was the work of Miura Kenya (1830-1843), who followed the methods of the celebrated Haritsu (1688-1704) of Kiōto in decorating plain or lacquered wood with mosaics of raku faience having coloured glazes. Kenya was also a skilled modeller of figures, and his factory in the Imado suburb obtained a considerable reputation for work of that nature. He was succeeded by Tozawa Benshi, an old man of over seventy in 1909, who, using clay from Owari or Hizen, has turned out many porcelain statuettes of great beauty. But although the capital of Japan formerly played only an insignificant part in Japanese ceramics, modern Tōkyō has an important school of artist-artisans. Every year large quantities of porcelain and faience are sent from the provinces to the capital to receive surface decoration, and in wealth of design as well as carefulness of execution the results are praiseworthy. But of the pigments employed nothing very laudatory could be said until very recent times. They were generally crude, of impure tone, and without depth or brilliancy. Now, however, they have lost these defects and entered a period of considerable excellence. Figure-subjects constitute the chief feature of the designs. A majority of the artists are content to copy old pictures of Buddha’s sixteen disciples, the seven gods of happiness, and other similar assemblages of mythical or historical personages, not only because such work offers large opportunity for the use of striking colours and the production of meretricious effects, dear to the eye of the average Western householder and tourist, but also because a complicated design, as compared with a simple one, has the advantage of hiding the technical imperfections of the ware. Of late there have happily appeared some decorators who prefer to choose their subjects from the natural field in which their great predecessors excelled, and there is reason to hope that this more congenial and more pleasing style will supplant its modern usurper. The best known factory in Tōkyō for decorative purposes is the Hyōchi-en. It was established in the Fukagawa suburb in 1875, with the immediate object of preparing specimens for the first Tōkyō exhibition held at that time. Its founders obtained a measure of official aid, and were able to secure the services of some good artists, among whom may be mentioned Obanawa and Shimauchi. The porcelains of Owari and Arita naturally received most attention at the hands of the Hyōchi-en decorators, but there was scarcely one of the principal wares of Japan upon which they did not try their skill, and if a piece of monochromatic Minton or Sèvres came in their way, they undertook to improve it by the addition of designs copied from old masters or suggested by modern taste. The cachet of the Fukagawa atelier was indiscriminately applied to all such pieces, and has probably proved a source of confusion to collectors. Many other factories for decoration were established from time to time in Tōkyō. Of these some still exist; others, ceasing to be profitable, have been abandoned. On the whole, the industry may now be said to have assumed a domestic character. In a house, presenting no distinctive features whatsoever, one finds the decorator with a cupboard full of bowls and vases of glazed biscuit, which he adorns, piece by piece, using the simplest conceivable apparatus and a meagre supply of pigments. Sometimes he fixes the decoration himself, employing for that purpose a small kiln which stands in his back garden; sometimes he entrusts this part of the work to a factory. As in the case of everything Japanese, there is no pretence, no useless expenditure about the process. Yet it is plain that this school of Tōkyō decorators, though often choosing their subjects badly, have contributed much to the progress of the ceramic art during the past few years. Little by little there has been developed a degree of skill which compares not unfavourably with the work of the old masters. Table services of Owari porcelain—the ware itself excellently manipulated and of almost egg-shell fineness—are now decorated with floral scrolls, landscapes, insects, birds, figure-subjects and all sorts of designs, chaste, elaborate or quaint; and these services, representing so much artistic labour and originality, are sold for prices that bear no due ratio to the skill required in their manufacture.

There is only one reservation to be made in speaking of the modern decorative industry of Japan under its better aspects. In Tōkyō, Kiōto, Yokohama and Kobe—in all of which places decorating ateliers (etsuke-dokoro), similar to those of Tōkyō, have been established in modern times—the artists use chiefly pigments, seldom venturing to employ vitrifiable enamels. That the results achieved with these different materials are not comparable is a fact which every connoisseur must admit. The glossy surface of a porcelain glaze is ill fitted for rendering artistic effects with ordinary colours. The proper field for the application of these is the biscuit, in which position the covering glaze serves at once to soften and to preserve the pigment. It can scarcely be doubted that the true instincts of the ceramist will ultimately counsel him to confine his decoration over the glaze to vitrifiable enamels, with which the Chinese and Japanese potters of former times obtained such brilliant results. But to employ enamels successfully is an achievement demanding special training and materials not easy to procure or to prepare. The Tōkyō decorators are not likely, therefore, to change their present methods immediately.

An impetus was given to ceramic decoration by the efforts of a new school, which owed its origin to Dr G. Wagener, an eminent German expert formerly in the service of the Japanese government. Dr Wagener conceived the idea of developing the art of decoration under the glaze, as applied to faience. Faience thus decorated has always been exceptional in Japan. Rare specimens were produced in Satsuma and Kiōto, the colour employed being chiefly blue, though brown and black were used in very exceptional instances. The difficulty of obtaining clear, rich tints was nearly prohibitive, and though success, when achieved, seemed to justify the effort, this class of ware never received much attention in Japan. By careful selection and preparation of pâte, glaze and pigments, Dr Wagener proved not only that the manufacture was reasonably feasible, but also that decoration thus applied to pottery possesses unique delicacy and softness. Ware manufactured by his direction at the Tōkyō school of technique (shokkô gakkô), under the name of asahi-yaki, ranks among the interesting productions of modern Japan. The decorative colour chiefly employed is chocolate brown, which harmonizes excellently with the glaze. But the ware has never found favour in Japanese eyes, an element of unpleasant garishness being imparted to it by the vitreous appearance of the glaze, which is manufactured according to European methods. The modern faience of Ito Tōzan of Kiōto, decorated with colour under the glaze, is incomparably more artistic than the Tōkyō asahi-yaki, from which, nevertheless, the Kiōto master doubtless borrowed some ideas. The decorative industry in Tōkyō owed much also to the kōshō-kaisha, an institution started by Wakai and Matsuo in 1873, with official assistance. Owing to the intelligent patronage of this company, and the impetus given to the ceramic trade by its enterprise, the style of the Tōkyō etsuke was much improved and the field of their industry extended. It must be acknowledged, however, that the Tōkyō artists often devote their skill to purposes of forgery, and that their imitations, especially of old Satsuma-yaki, are sometimes franked by dealers whose standing should forbid such frauds. In this context it may be mentioned that, of late years, decoration of a remarkably microscopic character has been successfully practised in Kiōto, Osaka and Kobe, its originator being Meisan of Osaka. Before dismissing the subject of modern Tōkyō ceramics, it may be added that Katō Tomatarō, mentioned above in connexion with the manufacture of special glazes, has also been very successful in producing porcelains decorated with blue sous couverte at his factory in the Koishikawa suburb.

Higuchi of Hirado is to be classed with ceramists of the new school on account of one ware only, namely, porcelain having translucid decoration, the so-called “grains of rice” of American collectors, designated hotaru-de (firefly style) in Japan. That, however, is an achievement of no small consequence, especially since it had never previously been essayed outside China. The Hirado expert has not yet attained technical skill equal to that of the Chinese. He cannot, like them, cover the greater part of a specimen’s surface with a lacework of transparent decoration, exciting wonder that pâte deprived so greatly of continuity could have been manipulated without accident. But his artistic instincts are higher than those of the Chinese, and there is reasonable hope that in time he may excel their best works. In other respects the Hirado factories do not produce wares nearly so beautiful as those manufactured there between 1759 and 1840, when the Hirado-yaki stood at the head of all Japanese porcelain on account of its pure, close-grained pâte, its lustrous milk-white glaze, and the soft clear blue of its carefully executed decoration.

The Owari potters were slow to follow the lead of Miyagawa Shōzan and Seifū Yōhei. At the industrial exhibition in Kiōto (1895) the first results of their efforts were shown, attracting attention at once. In medieval times Owari was celebrated for faience glazes of various colours, much affected by the tea-clubs, but its staple manufacture from the beginning of the 19th century was porcelain decorated with blue under the glaze, the best specimens of which did not approach their Chinese prototypes in fineness of pâte, purity of glaze or richness of colour. During the first twenty-five years of the Meiji era the Owari potters sought to compensate the technical and artistic defects of their pieces by giving them magnificent dimensions; but at the Tōkyō industrial exhibition (1891) they were able to contribute some specimens showing decorative, plastic and graving skill of no mean order. Previously to that time, one of the Seto experts, Katō Gosuke, had developed remarkable ability in the manufacture of céladon, though in that field he was subsequently distanced by Seifū of Kiōto. Only lately did Owari feel the influence of the new movement towards Chinese types. Its potters took flambé glazes for models, and their pieces possessed an air of novelty that attracted connoisseurs. But the style was not calculated to win general popularity, and the manufacturing processes were too easy to occupy the attention of great potters. On a far higher level stood egg-shell porcelain, remarkable examples of which were sent from Seto to the Kiōto industrial exhibition of 1895. Chinese potters of the Yung-lo era (1403-1414) enriched their country with a quantity of ware to which the name of totai-ki (bodiless utensil) was given on account of its wonderfully attenuated pâte. The finest specimens of this porcelain had incised decoration, sparingly employed but adding much to the beauty of the piece. In subsequent eras the potters of King-te-chen did not fail to continue this remarkable manufacture, but its only Japanese representative was a porcelain distinctly inferior in more than one respect, namely, the egg-shell utensils of Hizen and Hirado, some of which had finely woven basket-cases to protect their extreme fragility. The Seto experts, however, are now making bowls, cups and vases that rank nearly as high as the celebrated Yung-lo totai-ki. In purity of tone and velvet-like gloss of surface there is distinct inferiority on the side of the Japanese ware, but in thinness of pâte it supports comparison, and in profusion and beauty of incised decoration it excels its Chinese original.

Latest of all to acknowledge the impulse of the new departure have been the potters of Kaga. For many years their ware enjoyed the credit, or discredit, of being the most lavishly decorated porcelain in Japan. It is known to Western collectors as a product blazing with red and gold, a very degenerate offspring of the Chinese Ming type, which Hozen of Kiōto reproduced so beautifully at the beginning of the 19th century under the name of eiraku-yaki. Undoubtedly the best specimens of this kinran-de (brocade) porcelain of Kaga merit praise and admiration; but, on the whole, ware so gaudy could not long hold a high place in public esteem. The Kaga potters ultimately appreciated that defect. They still manufacture quantities of tea and coffee sets, and dinner or dessert services of red-and-gold porcelain for foreign markets; but about 1885 some of them made zealous and patient efforts to revert to the processes that won so much fame for the old Kutani-yaki, with its grand combinations of rich, lustrous, soft-toned glazes. The attempt was never entirely successful, but its results restored something of the Kaga kilns’ reputation. Since 1895, again, a totally new departure has been made by Morishita Hachizaemon, a ceramic expert, in conjunction with Shida Yasukyo, president of the Kaga products joint stock company (Kaga bussan kabushiki kaisha) and teacher in the Kaga industrial school. The line chosen by these ceramists is purely Chinese. Their great aim seems to be the production of the exquisite Chinese monochromes known as u-kwo-tien-tsing (blue of the sky after rain) and yueh-peh (clair-de-lune). But they also devote much attention to porcelains decorated with blue or red sous couverte. Their work shows much promise, but like all fine specimens of the Sino-Japanese school, the prices are too high to attract wide custom.

The sum of the matter is that the modern Japanese ceramist, after many efforts to cater for the taste of the Occident, evidently concludes that his best hope consists in devoting all his technical and artistic resources to reproducing the celebrated wares of China. In explanation of the fact that he did not essay this route in former times, it may be noted, first, that he had only a limited acquaintance with the wares in question; secondly, that Japanese connoisseurs never attached any value to their countrymen’s imitation of Chinese porcelains so long as the originals were obtainable; thirdly, that the ceramic art of China not having fallen into its present state of decadence, the idea of competing with it did not occur to outsiders; and fourthly, that Europe and America had not developed their present keen appreciation of Chinese masterpieces. Yet it is remarkable that China, at the close of the 19th century, should have again furnished models to Japanese eclecticism.

Lacquer.—Japan derived the art of lacquering from China (probably about the beginning of the 6th century), but she ultimately carried it far beyond Chinese conception. At first her experts confined themselves to plain black lacquer. From the early part of the 8th century they began to ornament it with dust of gold or mother-of-pearl, and throughout the Heian epoch (9th to 12th century) they added pictorial designs, though of a formal character, the chief motives being floral subjects, arabesques and scrolls. All this work was in the style known as hira-makie (flat decoration); that is to say, having the decorative design in the same plane as the ground. In the days of the great dilettante Yoshimasa (1449-1490), lacquer experts devised a new style, taka-makie, or decoration in relief, which immensely augmented the beauty of the ware, and constituted a feature altogether special to Japan. Thus when, at the close of the 16th century, the Taikō inaugurated the fashion of lavishing all the resources of applied art on the interior decoration of castles and temples, the services of the lacquerer were employed to an extent hitherto unknown, and there resulted some magnificent work on friezes, coffered ceilings, door panels, altar-pieces and cenotaphs. This new departure reached its climax in the Tokugawa mausolea of Yedo and Nikkō, which are enriched by the possession of the most splendid applications of lacquer decoration the world has ever seen, nor is it likely that anything of comparable beauty and grandeur will be again produced in the same line. Japanese connoisseurs indicate the end of the 17th century as the golden period of the art, and so deeply rooted is this belief that whenever a date has to be assigned to any specimen of exceptionally fine quality, it is unhesitatingly referred to the time of Joken-in (Tsunayoshi).

Among the many skilled artists who have practised this beautiful craft since the first on record, Kiyohara Norisuye (c. 1169), may be mentioned Kōyetsu (1558-1637) and his pupils, who are especially noted for their inro (medicine-cases worn as part of the costume); Kajikawa Kinjirō (c. 1680), the founder of the great Kajikawa family, which continued up to the 19th century; and Koma Kyūhaku (d. 1715), whose pupils and descendants maintained his traditions for a period of equal length. Of individual artists, perhaps the most notable is Ogata Kōrin (d. 1716), whose skill was equally great in the arts of painting and pottery. He was the eldest son of an artist named Ogato Sōken, and studied the styles of the Kanō and Tosa schools successively. Among the artists who influenced him were Kanō Tsunenobu, Nomura Sōtatsu and Kōyetsu. His lacquer-ware is distinguished for a bold and at times almost eccentric impressionism, and his use of inlay is strongly characteristic. Ritsuō (1663-1747), a pupil and contemporary of Kōrin, and like him a potter and painter also, was another lacquerer of great skill. Then followed Hanzan, the two Shiome, Yamamoto Shunshō and his pupils, Yamada Jōka and Kwanshōsai Tōyō (late 18th century). In the beginning of the 19th century worked Shōkwasai, who frequently collaborated with the metal-worker Shibayama, encrusting his lacquer with small decorations in metal by the latter.

No important new developments have taken place during modern times in Japan’s lacquer manufacture. Her artists follow the old ways faithfully; and indeed it is not easy to see how they could do better. On the other hand, there has not been any deterioration; all the skill of former days is still active. The contrary has been repeatedly affirmed by foreign critics, but no one really familiar with modern productions can entertain such a view. Lacquer-making, however, being essentially an art and not a mere handicraft, has its eras of great masters and its seasons of inferior execution. Men of the calibre of Kōyetsu Kōrin, Ritsuō, Kajikawa and Mitsutoshi must be rare in any age, and the epoch when they flourished is justly remembered with enthusiasm. But the Meiji era has had its Zeshin, and it had in 1909 Shirayama Fukumatsu, Kawanabe Itchō, Ogāwa Shōmin, Uematsu Hōmin, Shibayama Sōichi, Morishita Morihachi and other lesser experts, all masters in designing and execution. Zeshin, shortly before he died, indicated Shirayama Fukumatsu as the man upon whom his mantle should descend, and that the judgment of this really great craftsman was correct cannot be denied by any one who has seen the works of Shirayama. He excels in his representations of landscapes and waterscapes, and has succeeded in transferring to gold-lacquer panels tender and delicate pictures of nature’s softest moods—pictures that show balance, richness, harmony and a fine sense of decorative proportion. Kawanabe Itchō is celebrated for his representations of flowers and foliage, and Morishita Morihachi and Asano Saburo (of Kaga) are admirable in all styles, but especially, perhaps, in the charming variety called togi-dashi (ground down), which is pre-eminent for its satin-like texture and for the atmosphere of dreamy softness that pervades the decoration. The togi-dashi design, when finely executed, seems to hang suspended in the velvety lacquer or to float under its silky surface. The magnificent sheen and richness of the pure kin-makie (gold lacquer) are wanting, but in their place we have inimitable tenderness and delicacy.

The only branch of the lacquerer’s art that can be said to have shown any marked development in the Meiji era is that in which parts of the decorative scheme consist of objects in gold, silver, shakudo, shibuichi, iron, or, above all, ivory or mother-of-pearl. It might indeed be inferred, from some of the essays published in Europe on the subject of Japan’s ornamental arts, that this application of ivory and mother-of-pearl holds a place of paramount importance. Such is not the case. Cabinets, fire-screens, plaques and boxes resplendent with gold lacquer grounds carrying elaborate and profuse decoration of ivory and mother-of-pearl are not objects that appeal to Japanese taste. They belong essentially to the catalogue of articles called into existence to meet the demand of the foreign market, being, in fact, an attempt to adapt the lacquerer’s art to decorative furniture for European houses. On the whole it is a successful attempt. The plumage of gorgeously-hued birds, the blossoms of flowers (especially the hydrangea), the folds of thick brocade, microscopic diapers and arabesques, are built up with tiny fragments of iridescent shell, in combination with silver-foil, gold-lacquer and coloured bone, the whole producing a rich and sparkling effect. In fine specimens the workmanship is extraordinarily minute, and every fragment of metal, shell, ivory or bone, used to construct the decorative scheme, is imbedded firmly in its place. But in a majority of cases the work of building is done by means of paste and glue only, so that the result lacks durability. The employment of mother-of-pearl to ornament lacquer grounds dates from a period as remote as the 8th century, but its use as a material for constructing decorative designs began in the 17th century, and was due to an expert called Shibayama, whose descendant, Shibayama Sōichi, has in recent years been associated with the same work in Tōkyō.

In the manufacture of Japanese lacquer there are three processes. The first is the extraction and preparation of the lac; the second, its application; and the third, the decoration of the lacquered surface. The lac, when taken from an incision in the trunk of the Rhus vernicifera (urushi-no-ki), contains approximately 70% of lac acid, 4% of gum arabic, 2% of albumen, and 24% of water. It is strained, deprived of its moisture, and receives an admixture of gamboge, cinnabar, acetous protoxide or some other colouring matter. The object to be lacquered, which is generally made of thin white pine, is subjected to singularly thorough and painstaking treatment, one of the processes being to cover it with a layer of Japanese paper or thin hempen cloth, which is fixed by means of a pulp of rice-paste and lacquer. In this way the danger of warping is averted, and exudations from the wooden surface are prevented from reaching the overlaid coats of lacquer. Numerous operations of luting, sizing, lacquering, polishing, drying, rubbing down, and so on, are performed by the nurimono-shi, until, after many days’ treatment, the object emerges with a smooth, lustre-like dark-grey or coloured surface, and is ready to pass into the hands of the makie-shi, or decorator. The latter is an artist; those who have performed the preliminary operations are merely skilled artisans. The makie-shi may be said to paint a picture on the surface of the already lacquered object. He takes for subject a landscape, a seascape, a battle-scene, flowers, foliage, birds, fishes, insects—in short, anything. This he sketches in outline with a paste of white lead, and then, having filled in the details with gold and colours, he superposes a coat of translucid lacquer, which is finally subjected to careful polishing. If parts of the design are to be in relief, they are built up with a putty of black lacquer, white lead, camphor and lamp-black. In all fine lacquers gold predominates so largely that the general impression conveyed by the object is one of glow and richness. It is also an inviolable rule that every part must show beautiful and highly finished work, whether it be an external or an internal part. The makie-shi ranks almost as high as the pictorial artist in Japanese esteem. He frequently signs his works, and a great number of names have been thus handed down during the past two centuries.

Cloisonné Enamel.—Cloisonné enamel is essentially of modern development in Japan. The process was known at an early period, and was employed for the purpose of subsidiary decoration from the close of the 16th century, but not until the 19th century did Japanese experts begin to manufacture the objects known in Europe as “enamels;” that is to say, vases, plaques, censers, bowls, and so forth, having their surface covered with vitrified pastes applied either in the champlevé or the cloisonné style. It is necessary to insist upon this fact, because it has been stated with apparent authority that numerous specimens which began to be exported from 1865 were the outcome of industry commencing in the 16th century and reaching its point of culmination at the beginning of the 18th. There is not the slenderest ground for such a theory. The work began in 1838, and Kaji Tsunekichi of Owari was its originator. During 20 years previously to the reopening of the country in 1858, cloisonné enamelling was practised in the manner now understood by the term; when foreign merchants began to settle in Yokohama, several experts were working skilfully in Owari after the methods of Kaji Tsunekichi. Up to that time there had been little demand for enamels of large dimensions, but when the foreign market called for vases, censers, plaques and such things, no difficulty was found in supplying them. Thus, about the year 1865, there commenced an export of enamels which had no prototypes in Japan, being destined frankly for European and American collectors. From a technical point of view these specimens had much to recommend them. The base, usually of copper, was as thin as cardboard; the cloisons, exceedingly fine and delicate, were laid on with care and accuracy; the colours were even, and the designs showed artistic judgment. Two faults, however, marred the work—first, the shapes were clumsy and unpleasing, being copied from bronzes whose solidity justified forms unsuited to thin enamelled vessels; secondly, the colours, sombre and somewhat impure, lacked the glow and mellowness that give decorative superiority to the technically inferior Chinese enamels of the later Ming and early Tsing eras. Very soon, however, the artisans of Nagoya (Owari), Yokohama and Tōkyō—where the art had been taken up—found that faithful and fine workmanship did not pay. The foreign merchant desired many and cheap specimens for export, rather than few and costly. There followed then a period of gradual decline, and the enamels exported to Europe showed so much inferiority that they were supposed to be the products of a widely different era and of different makers. The industry was threatened with extinction, and would certainly have dwindled to insignificant dimensions had not a few earnest artists, working in the face of many difficulties and discouragements, succeeded in striking out new lines and establishing new standards for excellence.

Three clearly differentiated schools now (1875) came into existence. One, headed by Namikawa Yasuyuki of Kiōto, took for its objects the utmost delicacy and perfection of technique, richness of decoration, purity of design and harmony of colour. The thin clumsily-shaped vases of the Kaji school, with their uniformly distributed decoration of diapers, scrolls and arabesques in comparatively dull colours, ceased altogether to be produced, their place being taken by graceful specimens, technically flawless, and carrying designs not only free from stiffness, but also executed in colours at once rich and soft. This school may be subdivided, Kiōto representing one branch, Nagoya, Tōkyō and Yokohama the other. In the products of the Kiōto branch the decoration generally covered the whole surface of the piece; in the products of the other branch the artist aimed rather at pictorial effect, placing the design in a monochromatic field of low tone. It is plain that such a method as the latter implies great command of coloured pastes, and, indeed, no feature of the manufacture is more conspicuous than the progress made during the period 1880-1900 in compounding and firing vitrifiable enamels. Many excellent examples of cloisonné enamel have been produced by each branch of this school. There has been nothing like them in any other country, and they stand at an immeasurable distance above the works of the early Owari school represented by Kaji Tsunekichi and his pupils and colleagues.

The second of the modern schools is headed by Namikawa Sosuke of Tōkyō. It is an easily traced outgrowth of the second branch of the first school just described, for one can readily understand that from placing the decorative design in a monochromatic field of low tone, which is essentially a pictorial method, development would proceed in the direction of concealing the mechanics of the art in order to enhance the pictorial effect. Thus arose the so-called “cloisonless enamels” (musenjippō). They are not always without cloisons. The design is generally framed at the outset with a ribbon of thin metal, precisely after the manner of ordinary cloisonné ware. But as the work proceeds the cloisons are hidden—unless their presence is necessary to give emphasis to the design—and the final result is a picture in vitrified enamels.

The characteristic productions of the third among the modern schools are monochromatic and translucid enamels. All students of the ceramic art know that the monochrome porcelains of China owe their beauty to the fact that the colour is in the glaze, not under it. The ceramist finds no difficulty in applying a uniform coat of pigment to porcelain biscuit, and covering the whole with a diaphanous glaze. The colour is fixed and the glaze set by secondary firing at a lower temperature than that necessary for hardening the pâte. Such porcelains, however, lack the velvet-like softness and depth of tone so justly prized in the genuine monochrome, where the glaze itself contains the colouring matter, pâte and glaze being fired simultaneously at the same high temperature. It is apparent that a vitrified enamel may be made to perform, in part at any rate, the function of a porcelain glaze. Acting upon that theory, the experts of Tōkyō and Nagoya have produced many very beautiful specimens of monochrome enamel—yellow (canary or straw), rose du Barry, liquid-dawn, red, aubergine purple, green (grass or leaf), dove-grey and lapis lazuli blue. The pieces do not quite reach the level of Chinese monochrome porcelains, but their inferiority is not marked. The artist’s great difficulty is to hide the metal base completely. A monochrome loses much of its attractiveness when the colour merges into a metal rim, or when the interior of a vase is covered with crude unpolished paste. But to spread and fix the enamel so that neither at the rim nor in the interior shall there be any break of continuity, or any indication that the base is copper, not porcelain, demands quite exceptional skill.

The translucid enamels of the modern school are generally associated with decorative bases. In other words, a suitable design is chiselled in the metal base so as to be visible through the diaphanous enamel. Very beautiful effects of broken and softened lights, combined with depth and delicacy of colour, are thus obtained. But the decorative designs which lend themselves to such a purpose are not numerous. A gold base deeply chiselled in wave-diaper and overrun with a paste of aubergine purple is the most pleasing. A still higher achievement is to apply to the chiselled base designs executed in coloured enamels, finally covering the whole with translucid paste. Admirable results are thus produced; as when, through a medium of cerulean blue, bright goldfish and blue-backed carp appear swimming in silvery waves, or brilliantly plumaged birds seem to soar among fleecy clouds. The artists of this school show also much skill in using enamels for the purposes of subordinate decoration—suspending enamelled butterflies, birds or floral sprays, among the reticulations of a silver vase chiselled à jour; or filling with translucid enamels parts of a decorative scheme sculptured in iron, silver, gold or shakudo.

V.—Economic Conditions

Communications.—From the conditions actually existing in the 8th century after the Christian era the first compilers of Japanese history inferred the conditions which might have existed in the 7th century before that era. One of their inferences was that, in the early days, communication was by water only, and that not until 549 B.C. did the most populous region of the empire—the west coast—come into possession of public roads. Six hundred years later, the local satraps are represented as having received instructions to build regular highways, and in the 3rd century the massing of troops for an over-sea expedition invested roads with new value. Nothing is yet heard, however, about posts. These evidences of civilization did not make their appearance until the first great era of Japanese reform, the Taika period (645-650), when stations were established along the principal highways, provision was made of post-horses, and a system of bells and checks was devised for distinguishing official carriers. In those days ordinary travellers were required to carry passports, nor had they any share in the benefits of the official organization, which was entirely under the control of the minister of war. Great difficulties attended the movements of private persons. Even the task of transmitting to the central government provincial taxes paid in kind had to be discharged by specially organized parties, and this journey from the north-eastern districts to the capital generally occupied three months. At the close of the 7th century the emperor Mommu is said to have enacted a law that wealthy persons living near the highways must supply rice to travellers, and in 745 an empress (Koken) directed that a stock of medical necessaries must be kept at the postal stations. Among the benevolent acts attributed to renowned Buddhist priests posterity specially remembers their efforts to encourage the building of roads and bridges. The great emperor Kwammu (782-806) was constrained to devote a space of five years to the reorganization of the whole system of post-stations. Owing to the anarchy which prevailed during the 10th, 11th and 12th centuries, facilities of communication disappeared almost entirely, even for men of rank a long journey involved danger of starvation or fatal exposure, and the pains and perils of travel became a household word among the people.

Yoritomo, the founder of feudalism at the close of the 12th century, was too great a statesman to underestimate the value of roads and posts. The highway between his stronghold, Kamakura, and the imperial city, Kiōto, began in his time to develop features which ultimately entitled it to be called one of the finest roads in the world. But after Yoritomo’s death the land became once more an armed camp, in which the rival barons discouraged travel beyond the limits of their own domains. Not until the Tokugawa family obtained military control of the whole empire (1603), and, fixing its capital at Yedo, required the feudal chiefs to reside there every second year, did the problem of roads and post-stations force itself once more on official attention. Regulations were now strictly enforced, fixing the number of horses and carriers available at each station, the loads to be carried by them and their charges, as well as the transport services that each feudal chief was entitled to demand and the fees he had to pay in return. Tolerable hostelries now came into existence, but they furnished only shelter, fuel and the coarsest kind of food. By degrees, however, the progresses of the feudal chiefs to and from Yedo, which at first were simple and economical, developed features of competitive magnificence, and the importance of good roads and suitable accommodation received increased attention. This found expression in practice in 1663. A system more elaborate than anything antecedent was then introduced under the name of “flying transport.” Three kinds of couriers operated. The first class were in the direct employment of the shōgunate. They carried official messages between Yedo and Osaka—a distance of 348 miles—in four days by means of a well organized system of relays. The second class maintained communications between the fiefs and the Tokugawa court as well as their own families in Yedo, for in the alternate years of a feudatory’s compulsory residence in that city his family had to live there. The third class were maintained by a syndicate of 13 merchants as a private enterprise for transmitting letters between the three great cities of Kiōto, Osaka and Yedo and intervening places. This syndicate did not undertake to deliver a letter direct to an addressee. The method pursued was to expose letters and parcels at fixed places in the vicinity of their destination, leaving the addressees to discover for themselves that such things had arrived. Imperfect as this system was, it represented a great advance from the conditions in medieval times.

The nation does not seem to have appreciated the deficiencies of the syndicate’s service, supplemented as it was by a network of waterways which greatly increased the facilities for transport. After the cessation of civil wars under the sway of the Tokugawa, the building and improvement of roads went on steadily. It is not too much to say, indeed, that when Japan opened her doors to foreigners in the middle of the 19th century, she possessed a system of roads some of which bore striking testimony to her medieval greatness. The most remarkable was the Tōkaidō (eastern-seaway), so called because it ran eastward along the coast from Kiōto. This great highway, 345 m. long, connected Osaka and Kiōto with Yedo. The date of its construction is not recorded, but it certainly underwent signal improvement in the 12th and 13th centuries, and during the two and a half centuries of Tokugawa sway in Yedo. A wide, well-made and well-kept avenue, it was lined throughout the greater part of its length by giant pine-trees, rendering it the most picturesque highway in the world. Iyeyasu, the founder of the Tokugawa dynasty of shōguns, directed that his body should be interred at Nikkō, a place of exceptional beauty, consecrated eight hundred years previously. This meant an extension of the Tōkaidō (under a different name) nearly a hundred miles northward, for the magnificent shrines erected then at Nikkō and the periodical ceremonies thenceforth performed there demanded a correspondingly fine avenue of approach. The original Tōkaidō was taken for model, and Yedo and Nikkō were joined by a highway flanked by rows of cryptomeria. Second only to the Tōkaidō is the Nakasendō (mid-mountain road), which also was constructed to join Kiōto with Yedo, but follows an inland course through the provinces of Yamashiro, Omi, Mino, Shinshū, Kōtzuke and Musashi. Its length is 340 m., and though not flanked by trees or possessing so good a bed as the Tōkaidō, it is nevertheless a sufficiently remarkable highway. A third road, the Oshūkaidō runs northward from Yedo (now Tōkyō) to Aomori on the extreme north of the main island, a distance of 445 m., and several lesser highways give access to other regions.

The question of road superintendence received early attention from the government of the restoration. At a general assembly of local prefects held at Tōkyō in June 1875 it was decided to classify the different roads throughout the empire, and to determine the several sources from which the sums necessary for their maintenance and repair should be drawn. After several days’ discussion all roads were eventually ranged under one or other of the following heads:—

I. National roads, consisting of—

Class 1. Roads leading from Tōkyō to the various treaty ports.

Class 2. Roads leading from Tōkyō to the ancestral shrines in the province of Isē, and also to the cities or to military stations.

Class 3. Roads leading from Tōkyō to the prefectural offices, and those forming the lines of connexion between cities and military stations.

II. Prefectural roads, consisting of—

Class 1. Roads connecting different prefectures, or leading from military stations to their outposts.

Class 2. Roads connecting the head offices of cities and prefectures with their branch offices.

Class 3. Roads connecting noted localities with the chief town of such neighbourhoods, or leading to seaports convenient of access.

III. Village roads, consisting of—

Class 1. Roads passing through several localities in succession, or merely leading from one locality to another.

Class 2. Roads specially constructed for the convenience of irrigation, pasturage, mines, factories, &c., in accordance with measures determined by the people of the locality.

Class 3. Roads constructed for the benefit of Shintō shrines, Buddhist temples, or to facilitate the cultivation of rice-fields and arable land.

Of the above three headings, it was decided that all national roads should be maintained at the national expense, the regulations for their up-keep being entrusted to the care of the prefectures along the line of route, and the cost incurred being paid from the Imperial treasury. Prefectural roads are maintained by a joint contribution from the government and from the particular prefecture, each paying one-half of the sum needed. Village roads, being for the convenience of local districts alone, are maintained at the expense of such districts under the general supervision of the corresponding prefecture. The width of national roads was determined at 42 ft. for class 1, 36 ft. for class 2, and 30 ft. for class 3; the prefectural roads were to be from 24 to 30 ft., and the dimensions of the village roads were optional, according to the necessity of the case.

The vehicles chiefly employed in ante-Meiji days were ox-carriages, norimono, kago and carts drawn by hand. Ox-carriages were used only by people of the highest rank. They were often constructed of rich lacquer; the curtains suspended in front were of the finest bamboo workmanship, with thick cords and tassels of plaited silk, and the draught animal, an ox of handsome proportions, was brilliantly caparisoned. The care and expense lavished upon these highly ornate structures would have been deemed extravagant even in medieval Europe. They have passed entirely out of use, and are now to be seen in museums only, but the type still exists in China. The norimono resembled a miniature house slung by its roof-ridge from a massive pole which projected at either end sufficiently to admit the shoulders of a carrier. It, too, was frequently of very ornamental nature and served to carry aristocrats or officials of high position. The kago was the humblest of all conveyances recognized as usable by the upper classes. It was an open palanquin, V-shaped in cross section, slung from a pole which rested on the shoulders of two bearers. Extraordinary skill and endurance were shown by the men who carried the norimono and the kago, but none the less these vehicles were both profoundly uncomfortable. They have now been relegated to the warehouses of undertakers, where they serve as bearers for folks too poor to employ catafalques, their place on the roads and in the streets having been completely taken by the jinrikisha, a two-wheeled vehicle pulled by one or two men who think nothing of running 20 m. at the rate of 6 m. an hour. The jinrikisha was devised by a Japanese in 1870, and since then it has come into use throughout the whole of Asia eastward of the Suez Canal. Luggage, of course, could not be carried by norimono or kago. It was necessary to have recourse to packmen, pack-horses or baggage-carts drawn by men or horses. All these still exist and are as useful as ever within certain limits. In the cities and towns horses used as beasts of burden are now shod with iron, but in rural or mountainous districts straw shoes are substituted, a device which enables the animals to traverse rocky or precipitous roads with safety.

Railways.—It is easy to understand that an enterprise like railway construction, requiring a great outlay of capital with returns long delayed, did not at first commend itself to the Japanese, who were almost entirely ignorant of co-operation as a factor of business organization. Moreover, long habituated to snail-like modes of travel, the people did not rapidly appreciate the celerity of the locomotive. Neither the ox-cart, the norimono, nor the kago covered a daily distance of over 20 m. on the average, and the packhorse was even slower. Amid such conditions the idea of railways would have been slow to germinate had not a catastrophe furnished some impetus. In 1869 a rice-famine occurred in the southern island, Kiūshiū, and while the cereal was procurable abundantly in the northern provinces, people in the south perished of hunger owing to lack of transport facilities. Sir Harry Parkes, British representative in Tōkyō, seized this occasion to urge the construction of railways. Ito and Okuma, then influential members of the government, at once recognized the wisdom of his advice. Arrangements were made for a loan of a million sterling in London on the security of the customs revenue, and English engineers were engaged to lay a line between Tōkyō and Yokohama (18 m.). Vehement voices of opposition were at once raised in private and official circles alike, all persons engaged in transport business imagined themselves threatened with ruin, and conservative patriots detected loss of national independence in a foreign loan. So fierce was the antagonism that the military authorities refused to permit operations of survey in the southern suburb of Tōkyō, and the road had to be laid on an embankment constructed in the sea. Ito and Okuma, however, never flinched, and they were ably supported by Marquis M. Inouye and M. Mayejima. The latter published, in 1870, the first Japanese work on railways, advocating the building of lines from Tōkyō to Kiōto and Osaka; the former, appointed superintendent of the lines, held that post for 30 years, and is justly spoken of as “the father of Japanese railways.”

September 1872 saw the first official opening of a railway (the Tōkyō-Yokohama line) in Japan, the ceremony being performed by the emperor himself, a measure which effectually silenced all further opposition. Eight years from the time of turning the first sod saw 71 m. of road open to traffic, the northern section being that between Tōkyō and Yokohama, and the southern that between Kiōto and Kobe. A period of interruption now ensued, owing to domestic troubles and foreign complications, and when, in 1878, the government was able to devote attention once again to railway problems, it found the treasury empty. Then for the first time a public works loan was floated in the home market, and about £300,000 of the total thus obtained passed into the hands of the railway bureau, which at once undertook the building of a road from Kiōto to the shore of Lake Biwa, a work memorable as the first line built in Japan without foreign assistance. During all this time private enterprise had remained wholly inactive in the matter of railways, and it became a matter of importance to rouse the people from this apathetic attitude. For the ordinary process of organizing a joint-stock company and raising share-capital the nation was not yet prepared. But shortly after the abolition of feudalism there had come into the possession of the former feudatories state loan-bonds amounting to some 18 millions sterling, which represented the sum granted by the treasury in commutation of the revenues formerly accruing to these men from their fiefs. Already events had shown that the feudatories, quite devoid of business experience, were not unlikely to dispose of these bonds and devote the proceeds to unsound enterprises. Prince Iwakura, one of the leaders of the Meiji statesmen, persuaded the feudatories to employ a part of the bonds as capital for railway construction, and thus the first private railway company was formed in Japan under the name Nippon tetsudo kaisha (Japan railway company), the treasury guaranteeing 8% on the paid-up capital for a period of 15 years. Some time elapsed before this example found followers, but ultimately a programme was elaborated and carried out having for its basis a grand trunk line extending the whole length of the main island from Aomori on the north to Shimonoseki on the south, a distance of 1153 m.; and a continuation of the same line throughout the length of the southern island of Kiūshiū, from Moji on the north—which lies on the opposite side of the strait from Shimonoseki—to Kagoshima on the south, a distance of 232¾ m.; as well as a line from Moji to Nagasaki, a distance of 163½ m. Of this main road the state undertook to build the central section (376 m.), between Tōkyō and Kōbe (via Kiōto); the Japan railway company undertook the portion (457 m.) northward of Tōkyō to Aomori; the Sanyō railway company undertook the portion (320 m.) southward of Tōkyō to Shimonoseki; and the Kiūshiū railway company undertook the lines in Kiūshiū. The whole line is now in operation. The first project was to carry the Tōkyō-Kiōto line through the interior of the island so as to secure it against enterprises on the part of a maritime enemy. Such engineering difficulties presented themselves, however, that the coast route was ultimately chosen, and though the line through the interior was subsequently constructed, strategical considerations were not allowed completely to govern its direction.

When this building of railways began in Japan, much discussion was taking place in England and India as to the relative advantages of the wide and narrow gauges, and so strongly did the arguments in favour of the latter appeal to the English advisers of the Japanese government that the metre gauge was chosen. Some fitful efforts made in later years to change the system proved unsuccessful. The lines are single, for the most part; and as the embankments, the cuttings, the culverts and the bridge-piers have not been constructed for a double line, any change now would be very costly. The average speed of passenger trains in Japan is 18 m. an hour, the corresponding figure over the metre-gauge roads in India being 16 m., and the figure for English parliamentary trains from 19 to 28 m. British engineers surveyed the routes for the first lines and superintended the work of construction, but within a few years the Japanese were able to dispense with foreign aid altogether, both in building and operating their railways. They also construct carriages, wagons and locomotives, and they may therefore be said to have become entirely independent in the matter of railways, for a government iron-foundry at Wakamatsu in Kiūshiū is able to manufacture steel rails.

The total length of lines open for traffic at the end of March 1906 was 4746 m., 1470 m. having been built by the state and 3276 by private companies; the former at a cost of 16 millions sterling for construction and equipment, and the latter at a cost of 25 millions. Thus the expenditure by the state averaged £10,884 per mile, and that by private companies, £7631. This difference is explained by the facts that the state lines having been the pioneers, portions of them were built before experience had indicated cheap methods; that a very large and costly foreign staff was employed on these roads in the early days, whereas no such item appeared in the accounts of private lines; that extensive works for the building of locomotives and rolling stock are connected with the government’s roads, and that it fell to the lot of the state to undertake lines in districts presenting exceptional engineering difficulties, such districts being naturally avoided by private companies. The gross earnings of all the lines during the fiscal year 1905-1906 were 7 millions sterling, approximately, and the gross expenses (including the payment of interest on loans and debentures) were under 3½ millions, so that there remained a net profit of 3½ millions, being at the rate of a little over 8½% on the invested capital. The facts that the outlays averaged less than 47% of the gross income, and that accidents and irregularities are not numerous, prove that Japanese management in this kind of enterprise is efficient.

When the fiscal year 1906-1907 opened, the number of private companies was no less than 36, owning and operating 3276 m. of railway. To say that this represented an average of 91 m. per company is to convey an over-favourable idea, for, as a matter of fact, 15 of the companies averaged less than 24 m. Anything like efficient co-operation was impossible in such circumstances, and constant complaints were heard about delays in transit and undue expense. The defects of divided ownership had long suggested the expediency of nationalization, but not until 1906 could the diet be induced to give its consent. On March 31 of that year, a railway nationalization law was promulgated. It enacted that, within a period of 10 years from 1906 to 1915, the state should purchase the 17 principal private roads, which had a length of 2812 m., and whose cost of construction and equipment had been 23½ millions sterling. The original scheme included 15 other railways, with an aggregate mileage of only 353 m.; but these were eliminated as being lines of local interest only. The actual purchase price of the 17 lines was calculated at 43 millions sterling (about double their cost price), on the following basis: (a) An amount equal to 20 times the sum obtained by multiplying the cost of construction at the date of purchase by the average ratio of the profit to the cost of construction during the six business terms of the company from the second half-year of 1902 to the first half-year of 1905. (b) The amount of the actual cost of stored articles converted according to current prices thereof into public loan-bonds at face value, except in the case of articles which had been purchased with borrowed money. The government agreed to hand over the purchase money within 5 years from the date of the acquisition of the lines, in public loan-bonds bearing 5% interest calculated at their face value; the bonds to be redeemed out of the net profits accruing from the purchased railways. It was calculated that this redemption would be effected in a period of 32 years, after which the annual profit accruing to the state from the lines would be 5½ millions sterling. But the nationalization scheme, though apparently the only effective method of linking together and co-ordinating an excessively subdivided system of lines, has proved a source of considerable financial embarrassment. For when the state constituted itself virtually the sole owner of railways, it necessarily assumed responsibility for extending them so that they should suffice to meet the wants of a nation numbering some 50 millions. Such extension could be effected only by borrowing money. Now the government was pledged by the diet in 1907 to an expenditure of 11½ millions (spread over 8 years) for extending the old state system of roads, and an expenditure of 6¼ millions (spread over 12 years) for improving them. But from the beginning of that year, a period of extreme commercial and financial depression set in, and the treasury had to postpone all recourse to loans for whatever purpose, so that railway progress was completely checked in the field alike of the original and the acquired state lines. Moreover, all securities underwent such sharp depreciation that, on the one hand, the government hesitated to hand over the bonds representing the purchase-price of the railways, lest such an addition to the volume of stocks should cause further depreciation, and, on the other, the former owners of the nationalized lines found the character of their bargain greatly changed. In these circumstances the government decided to take a strong step, namely, to place the whole of the railways owned by it—the original state lines as well as those nationalized—in an account independent of the regular budget, and to devote their entire profits to works of extension and improvement, supplementing the amount with loans from the treasury when necessary.

In the sequel of the war of 1904-5 Japan, with China’s consent, acquired from Russia the lease of the portion of the South-Manchuria railway (see Manchuria) between Kwang-cheng-tsze (Chang-chun) on the north and Tairen (Dalny), Port Arthur and Niuchwang on the south—a total length of 470 m. At the close of 1906 this road was handed over to a joint-stock company with a capital of 20 millions sterling, the government contributing 10 millions in the form of the road and its associated properties; the public subscribing 2 millions, and the company being entitled to issue debentures to the extent of 8 millions, the principal and interest of these debentures being officially guaranteed. Four millions’ worth of debentures were issued in London in 1907 and 4 millions in 1908. This company’s programme is not limited to operating the railway. It also works coal-fields at Yentai and Fushun; has a line of steamers plying between Tairen and Shanghai; and engages in enterprises of electricity, warehousing and the management of houses and lands within zones 50 li (17 m.) wide on either side of the line. The government guarantees 6% interest on the capital paid up by the general public.

Not until 1905 did Japan come into possession of an electric railway. It was a short line of 8 m., built in Kiōto for the purposes of a domestic exhibition held in that city. Thenceforth this class of enterprise grew steadily in favour, so that, in 1907, there were 16 companies with an aggregate capital of 8 millions sterling, having 165 m. open to traffic and 77 m. under construction. Fifteen other companies with an aggregate capital of 3 millions had also obtained charters. The principal of these is the Tōkyō railway company, with a subscribed capital of 6 millions (3½ paid up), 90½ m. of line open and 149 m. under construction. In 1907 it carried 153 million passengers, and its net earnings were £300,000.

The traditional story of prehistoric Japan indicates that the first recorded emperor was an over-sea invader, whose followers must therefore have possessed some knowledge of ship-building and navigation. But in what kind of craft they sailed and how they handled them, there is nothing to show clearly. Nine centuries later, but still 500 years before the era of surviving written annals, an empress is said to have invaded Korea, embarking her forces at Kobe (then called Takekura) in 500 vessels. In the middle of the 6th century we read of a general named Abe-no-hirafu who led a flotilla up the Amur river to the invasion of Manchuria (then called Shukushin). All these things show that the Japanese of the earliest era navigated the high sea with some skill, and at later dates down to medieval times they are found occasionally sending forces to Korea and constantly visiting China in vessels which seem to have experienced no difficulty in making the voyage. The 16th century was a period of maritime activity so marked that, had not artificial checks been applied, the Japanese, in all probability, would have obtained partial command of Far-Eastern waters. They invaded Korea; their corsairs harried the coasts of China; two hundred of their vessels, sailing under authority of the Taikō’s vermilion seal, visited Siam, Luzon, Cochin China and Annam, and they built ships in European style which crossed the Pacific to Acapulco. But this spirit of adventure was chilled at the close of the 16th century and early in the 17th, when events connected with the propagation of Christianity taught the Japanese to believe that national safety could not be secured without international isolation. In 1638 the ports were closed to all foreign ships except those flying the flag of Holland or of China, and a strictly enforced edict forbade the building of any vessel having a capacity of more than 500 koku (150 tons) or constructed for purposes of ocean navigation. Thenceforth, with rare exceptions, Japanese craft confined themselves to the coastwise trade. Ocean-going enterprise ceased altogether.

Things remained thus until the middle of the 19th century, when a growing knowledge of the conditions existing in the West warned the Tokugawa administration that continued isolation would be suicidal. In 1853 the law prohibiting the construction of sea-going ships was revoked and the Yedo government built at Uraga a sailing vessel of European type aptly called the “Phoenix” (“Howo Maru”). Just 243 years had elapsed since the founder of the Tokugawa dynasty constructed Japan’s first ship after a foreign model, with the aid of an English pilot, Will Adams. In 1853 Commodore M. C. Perry made his appearance, and thenceforth everything conspired to push Japan along the new path. The Dutch, who had been proximately responsible for the adoption of the seclusion policy in the 17th century, now took a prominent part in promoting a liberal view. They sent to the Tokugawa a present of a man-of-war and urged the vital necessity of equipping the country with a navy. Then followed the establishment of a naval college at Tsukiji in Yedo, the building of iron-works at Nagasaki, and the construction at Yokosuka of a dockyard destined to become one of the greatest enterprises of its kind in the East. This last undertaking bore witness to the patriotism of the Tokugawa rulers, for they resolutely carried it to completion during the throes of a revolution which involved the downfall of their dynasty. Their encouragement of maritime enterprise had borne fruit, for when, in 1867, they restored the administration to the Imperial court, 44 ocean-going ships were found among their possessions and 94 were in the hands of the feudatories, a steamer and 20 sailing vessels having been constructed in Japan and the rest purchased abroad.

If the Tokugawa had been energetic in this respect, the new government was still more so. It caused the various maritime carriers to amalgamate into one association called the Nippon-koku yubin jokisen kaisha (Mail SS. Company of Japan), to which were transferred, free of charge, the steamers, previously the property of the Tokugawa or the feudatories, and a substantial subsidy was granted by the state. This, the first steamship company ever organized in Japan, remained in existence only four years. Defective management and incapacity to compete with foreign-owned vessels plying between the open ports caused its downfall (1875). Already, however, an independent company had appeared upon the scene. Organized and controlled by a man (Iwasaki Yataro) of exceptional enterprise and business faculty, this mitsubishi kaisha (three lozenge company, so called from the design on its flag), working with steamers chartered from the former feudatory of Tosa, to which clan Iwasaki belonged, proved a success from the outset, and grew with each vicissitude of the state. For when (1874) the Meiji government’s first complications with a foreign country necessitated the despatch of a military expedition to Formosa, the administration had to purchase 63 foreign steamers for transport purposes, and these were subsequently transferred to the mitsubishi company together with all the vessels (17) hitherto in the possession of the Mail SS. Company, the Treasury further granting to the mitsubishi a subsidy of £50,000 annually. Shortly afterwards it was decided to purchase a service maintained by the Pacific Mail SS. Company with 4 steamers between Yokohama and Shanghai, and money for the purpose having been lent by the state to the mitsubishi, Japan’s first line of steamers to a foreign country was firmly established, just 20 years after the law interdicting the construction of ocean-going vessels had been rescinded.

The next memorable event in this chapter of history occurred in 1877, when the Satsuma clan, eminently the most powerful and most warlike among all the former feudatories, took the field in open rebellion. For a time the fate of the government hung in the balance, and only by a flanking movement over-sea was the rebellion crushed. This strategy compelled the purchase of 10 foreign steamers, and these too were subsequently handed over to the mitsubishi company, which, in 1880, found itself possessed of 32 ships aggregating 25,600 tons, whereas all the other vessels of foreign type in the country totalled only 27 with a tonnage of 6500. It had now become apparent that the country could not hope to meet emergencies which might at any moment arise, especially in connexion with Korean affairs, unless the development of the mercantile marine proceeded more rapidly. Therefore in 1881 the formation of a new company was officially promoted. It had the name of the kyōdō unyu kaisha (Union Transport Company); its capital was about a million sterling; it received a large subsidy from the state, and its chief purpose was to provide vessels for military uses and as commerce-carriers. Japan had now definitely embraced the policy of entrusting to private companies rather than to the state the duty of acquiring a fleet of vessels capable of serving as transports or auxiliary cruisers in time of war. But there was now seen the curious spectacle of two companies (the Mitsubishi and the Union Transport) competing in the same waters and both subsidized by the treasury. After this had gone on for four years, the two companies were amalgamated (1885) into the Nippon yusen kaisha (Japan Mail SS. Company) with a capital of £1,100,000 and an annual subsidy of £88,000, fixed on the basis of 8% of the capital. Another company had come into existence a few months earlier. Its fleet consisted of 100 small steamers, totalling 10,000 tons, which had hitherto been competing in the Inland Sea.

Japan now possessed a substantial mercantile marine, the rate of whose development is indicated by the following figures:—

Year. Steamers. Sailing Vessels. Totals.

Number. Tons. Number. Tons. Number. Tons.

1870 35 15,498 11 2,454 46 17,952

1892 642 122,300 780 46,065 1,422 168,365

Nevertheless, only 23% of the exports and imports was transported in Japanese bottoms in 1892, whereas foreign steamers took 77%. This discrepancy was one of the subjects discussed in the first session of the diet, but a bill presented by the government for encouraging navigation failed to obtain parliamentary consent, and in 1893 the Japan Mail SS. Company, without waiting for state assistance, opened a regular service to Bombay mainly for the purpose of carrying raw cotton from India to supply the spinning industry which had now assumed great importance in Japan. Thus the rising sun flag flew for the first time outside Far-Eastern waters. Almost immediately after the establishment of this line, Japan had to engage in war with China, which entailed the despatch of some two hundred thousand men to the neighbouring continent and their maintenance there for more than a year. All the country’s available shipping resources did not suffice for this task. Additional vessels had to be purchased or chartered, and thus, by the beginning of 1896, the mercantile marine of Japan had grown to 899 steamers of 373,588 tons, while the sailing vessels had diminished to 644 of 44,000 tons.

In 1897 there occurred an event destined to exercise a potent influence on the fortunes not only of Japan herself but also of her mercantile marine. No sooner had she exchanged with China ratifications of a treaty of peace which seemed to prelude a long period of tranquillity, than Russia, Germany and France ordered her to restore all the continental territory ceded to her by China. Japan then recognized that her hope of peace was delusive, and that she must be prepared to engage in a struggle incomparably more serious than the one from which she had just emerged. Determined that when the crucial moment came she should not be found without ample means for transporting her armies, the government, under the leadership of Prince Ito and with the consent of the diet, enacted, in March 1896 laws liberally encouraging ship-building and navigation. Under the navigation law “any Japanese subject or any commercial company whose partners or shareholders were all Japanese subjects, engaged in carrying passengers and cargo between Japan and foreign countries or between foreign ports, in their own vessels, which must be of at least 1000 tons and registered in the shipping list of the Empire, became entitled to subsidies proportionate to the distance run and the tonnage of the vessels”; and under the ship-building law, bounties were granted for the construction of iron or steel vessels of not less than 700 tons gross by any Japanese subject or any commercial company whose partners and shareholders were all Japanese. The effect of this legislation was marked. In the period of six years ended 1902, no less than 835 vessels of 455,000 tons were added to the mercantile marine, and the treasury found itself paying encouragement money which totalled six hundred thousand pounds annually. Ship-building underwent remarkable development. Thus, while in 1870 only 2 steamers aggregating 57 tons had been constructed in Japanese yards, 53 steamers totalling 5380 tons and 193 sailing vessels of 17,873 tons were launched in 1900. By the year 1907 Japan had 216 private ship yards and 42 private docks, and while the government yards were able to build first-class line-of-battle ships of the largest size, the private docks were turning out steamers of 9000 tons burden. When war broke out with Russia in 1904, Japan had 567,000 tons of steam shipping, but that stupendous struggle obliged her to materially augment even this great total. In operations connected with the war she lost 71,000 tons, but on the other hand, she built 27,000 tons at home and bought 177,000 abroad, so that the net increase to her mercantile fleet of steamers was 133,000 tons. The following table shows the growth of her marine during the ten years ending 1907:—

Steamers. Sailing Vessels. Totals.

Year. Number. Gross
Tonnage. Number. Gross
Tonnage. Number. Gross
Tonnage.

1898 1130 477,430 1914 170,194 3044 648,324

1899 1221 510,007 3322 286,923 4543 467,930

1900 1329 543,365 3850 320,572 5179 863,937

1901 1395 583,532 4026 336,528 5471 920,060

1902 1441 610,445 3907 336,154 5348 946,600

1903 1570 663,220 3934 328,953 5504 992,173

1904 1815 798,240 3940 329,125 5755 1,127,365

1905 1988 939,749 4132 336,571 6170 1,276,320

1906 2103 1,041,569 4547 353,356 6700 1,395,925

1907 2139 1,115,880 4728 365,559 6867 1,481,439

With regard to the development of ship-building in Japanese yards the following figures convey information:—

Numbers of Vessels Built in Japan and Numbers Purchased Abroad

Built in Japan. Purchased abroad.

Year. Steamers. Sailing Vessels. Steamers. Sailing Vessels.

1898 479 1301 194 9

1899 554 2771 199 12

1900 653 3302 206 7

1901 754 3559 215 6

1902 813 3585 220 6

1903 855 5304 233 8

1904 947 3324 277 8

1905 1028 3508 357 11

1906 1100 3859 387 11

1907 1150 4033 419 12

In the building of iron and steel ships the Japanese are obliged to import much of the material used, but a large steel-foundry has been established under government auspices at Wakamatsu in Kiūshiū, that position having been chosen on account of comparative proximity to the Taiya iron mine in China, where the greater part of the iron ore used for the foundry is procured.

Simultaneously with the growth of the mercantile marine there has been a marked development in the number of licensed mariners; that is to say, seamen registered by the government as having passed the examination prescribed by law. In 1876 there were only 4 Japanese subjects who satisfied that definition as against 74 duly qualified foreigners holding responsible positions. In 1895 the numbers were 4135 Japanese and 835 foreigners, and ten years later the corresponding figures were 16,886 and 349 respectively. In 1904 the ordinary seamen of the mercantile marine totalled 202,710.

There are in Japan various institutions where the theory and practice of navigation are taught. The principal of these is the Tōkyō shōsen gakkō (Tōkyō mercantile marine college, established in 1875), where some 600 of the men now serving as officers arid engineers have graduated. Well equipped colleges exist also in seven other places, all having been established with official co-operation. Mention must be made of a mariners’ assistance association (kaiin ekizai-kai, established in 1800) which acts as a kind of agency for supplying mariners to shipowners, and of a distressed mariners’ relief association (suinan kyūsai-kai) which has succoured about a hundred thousand seamen since its establishment in 1899.

The duty of overseeing all matters relating to the maritime carrying trade devolves on the department of state for communications, and is delegated by the latter to one of its bureaus (the Kwansen-kyoku, or ships superintendence bureau), which, again, is divided into three sections: one for inspecting vessels, one for examining mariners, and one for the general control of all shipping in Japanese waters. For the better discharge of its duties this bureau parcels out the empire into 4 districts, having their headquarters at Tōkyō, Osaka, Nagasaki and Hakodate; and these four districts are in turn subdivided into 18 sections, each having an office of marine affairs (kwaiji-kyoku).

Competition between Japanese and foreign ships in the carriage of the country’s over-sea trade soon began to assume appreciable dimensions. Thus, whereas in 1891 the portion carried in Japanese bottoms was only 1½ millions sterling against 12½ millions carried by foreign vessels, the corresponding figures in 1902 were 20½ millions against 32¼ millions. In other words, Japanese steamers carried only 11% of the total trade in 1891, but their share rose to 39% in 1902. The prospect suggested by this record caused some uneasiness, which was not allayed by observing that while the tonnage of Japanese vessels in Chinese ports was only 2% in 1896 as compared with foreign vessels, the former figure grew to 16% in 1902; while in Korean ports Japanese steamers almost monopolized the carrying trade, leaving only 18% to their foreign rivals, and even in Hong-Kong the tonnage of Japanese ships increased from 3% in 1896 to 13% in 1900. In 1898 Japan stood eleventh on the list of the thirteen principal maritime countries of the world, but in 1907 she rose to the fifth place. Her principal company, the Nippon yusen kaisha, though established as lately as 1885, now ranks ninth in point of tonnage among the 21 leading maritime companies of the world. This company was able to supply 55 out of a total fleet of 207 transports furnished by all the steamship companies of Japan for military and naval purposes during the war with Russia in 1904-5. It may be noted in conclusion that the development of Japan’s steam-shipping during the five decades ended 1907 was as follows:—

Tons.

At the end of 1868 17,952

At the end of 1878 63,468

At the end of 1888 197,365

At the end of 1898 648,324

At the end of 1907 1,115,880

There are 33 ports in Japan open as places of call for foreign steamers. Their names with the dates of their opening are as follow:—

Name. Date of Opening. Situation.

Yokohama 1859 Main Island.

Kobe 1868 ”

Niigata 1867 ”

Osaka 1899 ”

Yokkaichi ” ”

Shimonoseki ” ”

Itozaki ” ”

Taketoyo ” ”

Shimizu ” ”

Tsuruga ” ”

Nanao ” ”

Fushiki ” ”

Sakai ” ”

Hamada ” ”

Miyazu ” ”

Aomori 1906 ”

Nagasaki 1859 Kiūshiū.

Moji 1899 ”

Hakata ” ”

Karatsu ” ”

Kuchinotsu ” ”

Misumi ” ”

Suminoye 1906 ”

Izuhara 1899 Tsushima.

Sasuna ” ”

Shikami ” ”

Nafa ” Riūkiū.

Otaru ” Yezo.

Kushiro ” ”

Mororan ” ”

Hakodate 1865 ”

Kelung 1899 Formosa.

Tamsui ” ”

Takow ” ”

Anping ” ”

Emigration.—Characteristic of the Japanese is a spirit of adventure: they readily emigrate to foreign countries if any inducement offers. A strong disposition to exclude them has displayed itself in the United States of America, in Australasia and in British Columbia, and it is evident that, since one nation cannot force its society on another at the point of the sword, this anti-Asiatic prejudice will have to be respected, though it has its origin in nothing more respectable than the jealousy of the labouring classes. One result is an increase in the number of Japanese emigrating to Korea, Manchuria and S. America. The following table shows the numbers residing at various places outside Japan in 1904 and 1906 respectively:—

Place. Number in
1904. Number in
1906.

China 9,417 27,126

Korea 31,093 100,000

Manchuria — 43,823

Hong-Kong 600 756

Singapore 1,292 1,428

British India 413 530

Europe 183 697

United States of America 33,849 130,228

Canada 3,838 5,088

Mexico 456 1,294

S. America 1,496 2,500

Philippines 2,652 2,185

Hawaii 65,008 64,319

Australasia 71,129 3,274

Foreign Residents.—The number of foreigners residing in Japan and their nationalities in 1889, 1899 and 1906, respectively, were as follow:—

1889. 1899. 1906.

Americans 899 1,296 1,650

British 1,701 2,013 2,155

Russians 63 134 211

French 335 463 540

Portuguese 108 158 165

Germans 550 532 670

Chinese 4,975 6,372 12,425

Koreans 8 188 254

There are also small numbers of Dutch, Peruvians, Belgians, Swiss, Italians, Danes, Swedes, Austrians, Hungarians, &c. This slow growth of the foreign residents is remarkable when contrasted with the fact that the volume of the country’s foreign trade, which constitutes their main business, grew in the same period from 13½ millions sterling to 92 millions.

Posts and Telegraphs.—The government of the Restoration did not wait for the complete abolition of feudalism before organizing a new system of posts in accordance with modern needs. At first, letters only were carried, but before the close of 1871 the service was extended so as to include newspapers, printed matter, books and commercial samples, while the area was extended so as to embrace all important towns between Hakodate in the northern island of Yezo and Nagasaki in the southern island of Kiūshiū. Two years later this field was closed to private enterprise, the state assuming sole charge of the business. A few years later saw Japan in possession of an organization comparable in every respect with the systems existing in Europe. In 1892 a foreign service was added. Whereas in 1871 the number of post-offices throughout the empire was only 179, it had grown to 6449 in 1907, while the mail matter sent during the latter year totalled 1254 millions (including 15 millions of parcels), and 67,000 persons were engaged in handling it. Japan labours under special difficulties for postal purposes, owing to the great number of islands included in the empire, the exceptionally mountainous nature of the country, and the wide areas covered by the cities in proportion to the number of their inhabitants. It is not surprising to find, therefore, that the means of distribution are varied. The state derives a net revenue of 5 million yen approximately from its postal service. It need scarcely be added that the system of postal money-orders was developed pari passu with that of ordinary correspondence, but in this context one interesting fact may be noted, namely, that while Japan sends abroad only some £25,000 annually to foreign countries through the post, she receives over £450,000 from her over-sea emigrants.

Japan at the time of the Restoration (1867) was not entirely without experience which prepared her for the postal money-order system. Some 600 years ago the idea of the bill of exchange was born in the little town of Totsugawa (Yamato province), though it did not obtain much development before the establishment of the Tokugawa shōgunate in the 17th century. The feudal chiefs, having then to transmit large sums to Yedo for the purposes of their compulsory residence there, availed themselves of bills of exchange, and the shōgun’s government, which received considerable amounts in Osaka, selected ten brokers to whom the duty of effecting the transfer of these funds was entrusted. Subsequently the 10 chosen brokers were permitted to extend their services to the general public, and a recent Japanese historian notes that Osaka thus became the birthplace of banking business in Japan. Postal money-orders were therefore easily appreciated at the time of their introduction in 1875. This was not true of the postal savings bank, however, an institution which came into existence in the same year. It was altogether a novel idea that the public at large, especially the lower sections of it, should entrust their savings to the government for safe keeping, especially as the minimum and maximum deposited at one time were fixed at such petty sums as 10 sen (2¼d.) and 50 sen (1s.), respectively. Indeed, in the circumstances, the fact that £1500 was deposited in the first year must be regarded as notable. Subsequently deposits were taken in postage stamps, and arrangements were effected for enabling depositors to pay money to distant creditors through the bank by merely stating the destination and the amount of the nearest post office. In 1908 the number of depositors in the post office savings bank was 8217, and their deposits exceeded 10 millions sterling. Thirty per cent. of the depositors belonged to the agricultural classes, 13 to the commercial and only 6 to the industrial.

Rapid communication by means of beacons was not unknown in ancient Japan, but code-signalling by the aid of flags was not introduced until the 17th century and was probably suggested by observing the practice of foreign merchantmen. Its use, however, was peculiar. The central office stood at Osaka, between which city and many of the principal provincial towns rudely constructed towers were placed at long distances, and from one to another of these intelligence as to the market price of rice was flashed by flag-shaking, the signals being read with telescopes. The Japanese saw a telegraph for the first time in 1854, when Commodore Perry presented a set of apparatus to the shōgun, and four years later the feudal chief of Satsuma (Shimazu Nariakira) caused wires to be erected within the enclosure of his castle. The true value of electric telegraphy was first demonstrated to the Japanese in connexion with an insurrection in 1877, under the leadership of Saigo, the favourite of this same Shimazu Nariakira. Before that time, however, a line of telegraph had been put up between Tōkyō and Yokohama (18 m.) and a code of regulations had been enacted. Sudden introduction to such a mysterious product of foreign science created superstitious dread in the minds of a few of the lower orders, and occasional attempts were made at the outset to wreck the wires. In 1886 the postal and telegraph offices were amalgamated and both systems underwent large development. Whereas the length of wires at the end of the fourth year after the introduction of the system was only 53 m., and the number of messages 20,000, these figures had grown in 1907 to 95,623 and 25 millions, respectively. Several cables are included in these latter figures, the longest being that to Formosa (1229 m.). Wireless telegraphy began to come into general use in 1908, when several vessels belonging to the principal steamship companies were equipped with the apparatus. It had already been employed for some years by the army and navy, especially during the war with Russia, when the latter service installed a new system, the joint invention of Captain Tonami of the navy, Professor S. Kimura of the naval college and Mr M. Matsushiro of the department of communications. The telegraph service in Japan barely pays the cost of operating and maintenance.

The introduction of the telephone into Japan took place in 1877, but it served official purposes solely during 13 years, and even when (1890) it was placed at the disposal of the general public its utilities found at first few appreciators. But this apathy soon yielded to a mood of eager employment, and the resources of the government (which monopolized the enterprise) proved inadequate to satisfy public demand. Automatic telephones were ultimately set up at many places in the principal towns and along the most frequented highways. The longest distance covered was from Tōkyō to Osaka (348 m.). In 1907 Japan had 140,440 m. of telephone wires, 262 exchanges, 159 automatic telephones, and the approximate number of messages sent was 160 millions. The telephone service pays a net revenue of about £100,000 annually.

Agriculture.—The gross area of land in Japan—excluding Formosa and Sakhalin—is 89,167,880 acres, of which 53,487,022 acres represent the property of the crown, the state and the communes, the rest (35,680,868 acres) being owned by private persons. Of the grand total the arable lands represent 15,301,297 acres. With regard to the immense expanse remaining unproductive, experts calculate that if all lands inclined at less than 15° be considered cultivable, an area of 10,684,517 acres remains to be reclaimed, though whether the result would repay the cost is a question hitherto unanswered. The cultivated lands are thus classified, namely, wet fields (called also paddy fields or rice lands), 6,871,437 acres; dry fields (or upland farms), 5,741,745 acres, and others, 2,688,115 acres.

Paddy fields are to be seen in every valley or dell where farming is practicable; they are divided into square, oblong or triangular plots by grass-grown ridges a few inches in height and on an average a foot in breadth—the rice being planted in the soft mud thus enclosed. Narrow pathways intersect these rice-valleys at intervals, and rivulets (generally flowing between low banks covered with clumps of bamboo) feed ditches cut for purposes of irrigation. The fields are generally kept under water to a depth of a few inches while the crops are young, but are drained immediately before harvesting. They are then dug up, and again flooded before the second crop is planted out. The rising grounds which skirt the rice-land are tilled by the hoe, and produce Indian corn, millet and edible roots. The well-wooded slopes supply the peasants with timber and firewood. Thirty-six per cent. of the rice-fields yield two crops yearly. The seed is sown in small beds, and the seedlings are planted out in the fields after attaining the height of about 4 in. The finest rice is produced in the fertile plains watered by the Tone-gawa in the province of Shimōsa, but the grain of Kaga and of the two central provinces of Settsu and Harima is also very good.

Not only does rice form the chief food of the Japanese but also the national beverage, called sake, is brewed from it. In colour the best sake resembles very pale sherry; the taste is rather acid. None but the finest grain is used in its manufacture. Of sake there are many varieties, from the best quality down to shiro-zake or “white sake,” and the turbid sort, drunk only in the poorer districts, known as nigori-zake; there is also a sweet sort, called mirin.

The various cereal and other crops cultivated in Japan, the areas devoted to them and the annual production are shown in the following table:—

1898.
Acres. 1902.
Acres. 1906.
Acres.

Rice 7,044,060 7,117,990 7,246,982

Barley 1,649,240 1,613,270 1,674,595

Rye 1,703,410 1,688,635 1,752,095

Wheat 1,164,020 1,210,435 1,107,967

Millet 693,812 652,492 594,280

Beans 1,503,395 1,488,600 1,478,345

Buckwheat 450,100 414,375 402,575

Rape-seed 377,070 392,612 352,807

Potatoes 92,297 105,350 140,197

Sweet Potatoes 668,130 693,427 717,620

Cotton 100,720 51,750 24,165

Hemp 62,970 42,227 34,845

Indigo (leaf) 122,180 92,982 40,910

1903. 1905. 1906.

Sugar Cane 41,750 43,308 45,087

It is observable that no marked increase is taking place in the area under cultivation, and that the business of growing cotton, hemp and indigo is gradually diminishing, these staples being supplied from abroad. In Germany and Italy the annual additions made to the arable area average 8% whereas in Japan the figure is only 5%. Moreover, of the latter amount the rate for paddy fields is only 3.3% against 7.9% in the case of upland farms. This means that the population is rapidly outgrowing its supply of home-produced rice, the great food-stuff of the nation, and the price of that cereal consequently shows a steady tendency to appreciate. Thus whereas the market value was 5s. 5d. per bushel in 1901, it rose to 6s. 9d. in 1906.

Scarcely less important to Japan than the cereals she raises are her silk and tea, both of which find markets abroad. Her production of the latter staple does not show any sign of marked development, for though tea is almost as essential an article of diet in Japan as rice, its foreign consumers are practically limited to the United States and their demand does not increase. The figures for the 10-year period ended 1906 are as follow:—

Area under
cultivation (acres). Tea produced
(℔ av.).

1897 147,230 70,063,076

1901 122,120 57,975,486

1906 126,125 58,279,286

Sericulture, on the contrary, shows steady development year by year. The demand of European and American markets has very elastic limits, and if Japanese growers are content with moderate, but still substantial, gains they can find an almost unrestricted sale in the West. The development from 1886 to 1906 was as follows:—

Raw silk produced
yearly (℔).

Average from 1886 to 1889 8,739,273

1895 19,087,310

1900 20,705,644

1905 21,630,829

1906 24,215,324

The chief silk-producing prefectures in Japan, according to the order of production, are Nagano, Gumma, Yamanashi, Fukushima, Aichi and Saitama. At the close of 1906 there were 3843 filatures throughout the country, and the number of families engaged in sericulture was 397,885.

Lacquer, vegetable wax and tobacco are also important staples of production. The figures for the ten-year period, 1897 to 1906, are as follow:—

Lacquer
(℔). Vegetable
wax (℔). Tobacco
(℔).

1897 344,267 25,850,790 110,572,925

1906 668,266 39,714,661 101,718,592

While the quantity of certain products increases, the number of filatures and factories diminishes, the inference being that industries are coming to be conducted on a larger scale than was formerly the case. Thus in sericulture the filatures diminished from 4723 in 1897 to 3843 in 1906; the number of lacquer factories from 1637 to 1123 at the same dates, and the number of wax factories from 2619 to 1929.

It is generally said that whereas more than 60% of Japan’s entire population is engaged in agriculture, she remains far behind the progressive nations of Europe in the application of scientific principles to farming. Nevertheless if we take for unit the average value of the yield per hectare in Italy, we obtain the following figures:—

Yield per hectare

Italy 100

India 51

Germany 121

France 122

Egypt 153

Japan 213

In the realm of agriculture, as in all departments of modern Japan’s material development, abundant traces are found of official activity. Thus, in the year 1900, the government enacted laws designed to correct the excessive subdivision of farmers’ holdings; to utilize unproductive areas lying between cultivated fields; to straighten roads; to facilitate irrigation; to promote the use of machinery; to make known the value of artificial fertilizers; to conserve streams and to prevent inundations. Further, in order to furnish capital for the purposes of farming, 46 agricultural and commercial banks—one in each prefecture—were established with a central institution called the hypothec bank which assists them to collect funds. A Hokkaidō colonial bank and subsequently a bank of Formosa were also organized, and a law was framed to encourage the formation of co-operative societies which should develop a system of credit, assist the business of sale and purchase and concentrate small capitals. Experimental stations were another official creation. Their functions were to carry on investigations relating to seeds, diseases of cereals, insect pests, stock-breeding, the use of implements, the manufacture of agricultural products and cognate matters. Encouragement by grants in aid was also given to the establishment of similar experimental farms by private persons in the various prefectures, and such farms are now to be found everywhere. This official initiative, with equally successful results, extended to the domain of sericulture and tea-growing. There are two state sericultural training institutions where not only the rearing of silk-worms and the management of filatures are taught, but also experiments are made; and these institutions, like the state agricultural stations, have served as models for institutes on the same lines under private auspices. A silk-conditioning house at Yokohama; experimental tea-farms; laws to prevent and remove diseases of plants, cereals, silk-worms and cattle, and regulations to check dishonesty in the matter of fertilizers, complete the record of official efforts in the realm of agriculture during the Meiji era.

One of the problems of modern Japan is the supply of cattle. With a rapidly growing taste for beef—which, in former days, was not an article of diet—there is a slow but steady diminution in the stock of cattle. Thus while the number of the latter in 1897 was 1,214,163, out of which total 158,504 were slaughtered, the corresponding figures in 1906 were 1,190,373 and 167,458, respectively. The stock of sheep (3500 in 1906) increases slowly, and the stocks of goats (58,694 in 1897 and 74,750 in 1906) and swine (206,217 in 1897 and 284,708 in 1906) grow with somewhat greater rapidity, but mutton and pork do not suit Japanese taste, and goats are kept mainly for the sake of their milk. The government has done much towards the improvement of cattle and horses by importing bulls and sires, but, on the whole, the mixed breed is not a success, and the war with Russia in 1904-5 having clearly disclosed a pressing need of heavier horses for artillery and cavalry purposes, large importations of Australian, American and European cattle are now made, and the organization of race-clubs has been encouraged throughout the country.

Forests.—Forests occupy an area of 55 millions of acres, or 60% of the total superficies of Japan, and one-third of that expanse, namely, 18 million acres, approximately, is the property of the state. It cannot be said that any very practical attempt has yet been made to develop this source of wealth. The receipts from forests stood at only 13 million yen in the budget for 1907-1908, and even that figure compares favourably with the revenue of only 3 millions derived from the same source in the fiscal year 1904-1905. This failure to utilize a valuable asset is chiefly due to defective communications, but the demand for timber has already begun to increase. In 1907 a revised forestry law was promulgated, according to which the administration is competent to prevent the destruction of forests and to cause the planting of plains and waste-lands, or the re-planting of denuded areas. A plan was also elaborated for systematically turning the state forests to valuable account, while, at the same time, providing for their conservation.

Fisheries.—From ancient times the Japanese have been great fishermen. The seas that encircle their many-coasted islands teem with fish and aquatic products, which have always constituted an essential article of diet. Early in the 18th century, the Tokugawa administration, in pursuance of a policy of isolation, interdicted the construction of ocean-going ships, and the people’s enterprise in the matter of deep-sea fishing suffered a severe check. But shortly after the Restoration in 1867, not only was this veto rescinded, but also the government, organizing a marine bureau and a marine products examination office, took vigorous measures to promote pelagic industry. Then followed the formation of the marine products association under the presidency of an imperial prince. Fishery training schools were the next step; then periodical exhibitions of fishery and marine products; then the introduction and improvement of fishing implements; and then by rapid strides the area of operations widened until Japanese fishing boats of improved types came to be seen in Australasia, in Canada, in the seas of Sakhalin, the Maritime Province, Korea and China; in the waters of Kamchatka and in the Sea of Okhotsk. No less than 9000 fishermen with 2000 boats capture yearly about £300,000 worth of fish in Korean waters; at least 8000 find a plentiful livelihood off the coasts of Sakhalin and Siberia, and 200 Japanese boats engage in the salmon-fishing of the Fraser River. In 1893, the total value of Japanese marine products and fish captured did not exceed 1¼ millions sterling, whereas in 1906 the figure had grown to 5½ millions, to which must be added 31⁄8 millions of manufactured marine products. Fourteen kinds of fish represent more than 50% of the whole catch, namely, (in the order of their importance) bonito (katsuo), sardines (iwashi), pagrus (toi), cuttle-fish and squid (tako and ika), mackerel (saba), yellow tail (buri), tunny-fish (maguro), prawns (ebi), sole (karei), grey mullet (bora), eels (unagi), salmon (shake), sea-ear (awabi) and carp (koi). Altogether 700 kinds of aquatic products are known in Japan, and 400 of them constitute articles of diet. Among manufactured aquatic products the chief are (in the order of their importance) dried bonito, fish guano, dried cuttle-fish, dried and boiled sardines, dried herring and dried prawns. The export of marine products amounted to £900,000 in 1906 against £400,000 ten years previously; China is the chief market. As for imports, they were insignificant at the beginning of the Meiji era, but by degrees a demand was created for salted fish, dried sardines (for fertilizing), edible sea-weed, canned fish and turtle-shell, so that whereas the total imports were only £1600 in 1868, they grew to over £400,000 in 1906.

Minerals.—Crystalline schists form the axis of Japan. They run in a general direction from south-west to north-east, with chains starting east and west from Shikoku. On these schists rocks of every age are superimposed, and amid these somewhat complicated geological conditions numerous minerals occur. Precious stones, however, are not found, though crystals of quartz and antimony as well as good specimens of topaz and agate are not infrequent.

Gold occurs in quartz veins among schists, paleozoic or volcanic rocks and in placers. The quantity obtained is not large, but it shows tolerably steady development, and may possibly be much increased by more generous use of capital and larger recourse to modern methods.

The value of the silver mined is approximately equal to that of the gold. It is found chiefly in volcanic rocks (especially tuff), in the form of sulphide, and it is usually associated with gold, copper, lead or zinc.

Much more important in Japan’s economics than either of the precious metals is copper. Veins often showing a thickness of from 70 to 80 ft., though of poor quality (2 to 8%), are found bedded in crystalline schists or paleozoic sedimentary rocks, but the richest (10 to 30%) occur in tuff and other volcanic rocks.

There have not yet been found any evidences that Japan is rich in iron ores. Her largest known deposit (magnetite) occurs at Kamaishi in Iwate prefecture, but the quantity of pig-iron produced from the ore mined there does not exceed 37,000 tons annually, and Japan is obliged to import from the neighbouring continent the greater part of the iron needed by her for ship-building and armaments.

Considerable deposits of coal exist, both anthracite and bituminous. The former, found chiefly at Amakusa, is not greatly inferior to the Cardiff mineral; and the latter—obtained in abundance in Kiūushiū and Yezo—is a brown coal of good medium quality. Altogether there are 29 coal-fields now actually worked in Japan, and she obtained an important addition to her sources of supply in the sequel to the war with Russia, when the Fushun mines near Mukden, Manchuria, were transferred to her. During the 10 years ending in 1906, the market value of the coal mined in Japan grew from less than 2 millions sterling to over 6 millions.

Petroleum also has of late sprung into prominence on the list of her mineral products. The oil-bearing strata—which occur mainly in tertiary rocks—extend from Yezo to Formosa, but the principal are in Echigo, which yields the greater part of the petroleum now obtained, the Yezo and Formosa wells being still little exploited, the quantity of petroleum obtained in Japan in 1897 was 9 million gallons, whereas the quantity obtained in 1906 was 55 millions.

Japanese mining enterprise was more than trebled during the decade 1897 to 1906, for the value of the minerals taken out in the former year was only 3½ millions sterling, whereas the corresponding figure for 1906 was 11 millions. The earliest mention of gold-mining in Japan takes us back to the year A.D. 696, and by the 16th century the country had acquired the reputation of being rich in gold. During the days of her medieval intercourse with the outer world, her stores of the precious metals were largely reduced, for between the years 1602 and 1766, Holland, Spain, Portugal and China took from her 313,800 ℔ (troy) of gold and 11,230,000 ℔ of silver.

Copper occupied a scarcely less important place in Old Japan. From a period long anterior to historic times this metal was employed to manufacture mirrors and swords, and the introduction of Buddhism in the 6th century was quickly followed by the casting of sacred images, many of which still survive. Finding in the 18th century that her foreign intercourse not only had largely denuded her of gold and silver, but also threatened to denude her of copper, Japan set a limit (3415 tons) to the yearly export of the latter metal. After the resumption of administrative power by the emperor in 1867, attention was quickly directed to the question of mineral resources; several Western experts were employed to conduct surveys and introduce Occidental mining methods, and ten of the most important mines were worked under the direct auspices of the state in order to serve as object lessons. Subsequently these mines were all transferred to private hands, and the government now retains possession of only a few iron and coal mines whose products are needed for dockyard and arsenal purposes. The following table shows the recent progress and present condition of mining industry in Japan:—

Gold Silver Copper Lead

Quantity.
oz. Value.
£ Quantity.
oz. Value.
£ Quantity.
Tons. Value.
£ Quantity
Tons. Value.
£

1897 34,553 136,834 1,809,805 208,200 19,722 869,266 746 10,343

1901 82,517 330,076 1,824,842 211,682 26,495 1,625,244 1,744 24,640

1906 90,842 363,715 2,623,212 243,914 37,254 3,007,992 2,721 49,690

Iron Coal Petroleum Sulphur

Quantity.
Tons. Value.
£ Quantity.
Tons. Value.
£ Quantity.
Gallons. Value.
£ Quantity
Tons. Value.
£

1897 35,178 103,559 5,229,662 1,899,592 9,248,800 44,389 13,138 33,588

1901 46,456 123,701 9,025,325 3,060,931 39,351,960 227,841 16,007 38,612

1906 85,203 268,911 12,980,103 6,314,400 55,135,880 314,550 27,406 61,386

Antimony Manganese Others

Quantity.
Tons. Value.
£ Quantity.
Tons. Value.
£ Value.
£ Total Values.
£

1897 1,133 27,362 13,175 8,758 3,863 3,345,662

1901 529 13,481 15,738 10,846 3,450 5,670,508

1906 293 22,862 12,322 51,365 41,338 10,839,783

The number of mine employees in 1907 was 190,000, in round numbers; the number of mining companies, 189; and the aggregate paid-up capital, 10 millions sterling.

Industries.—In the beginning of the Meiji era Japan was practically without any manufacturing industries, as the term is understood in the Occident, and she had not so much as one joint-stock company. At the end of 1906, her joint-stock companies and partnerships totalled 9329, their paid up capital exceeded 100 millions sterling, and their reserves totalled 26 millions. It is not to be inferred, however, from the absence of manufacturing organizations 50 years ago that such pursuits were deliberately eschewed or despised in Japan. On the contrary, at the very dawn of the historical epoch we find that sections of the people took their names from the work carried on by them, and that specimens of expert industry were preserved in the sovereign’s palace side by side with the imperial insignia. Further, skilled artisans from the neighbouring continent always found a welcome in Japan, and when Korea was successfully invaded in early times, one of the uses which the victors made of their conquest was to import Korean weavers and dyers. Subsequently the advent of Buddhism, with its demand for images, temples, gorgeous vestments and rich paraphernalia, gave a marked impulse to the development of artistic industry, which at the outset took its models from China, India and Greece, but gradually, while assimilating many of the best features of the continental schools, subjected them to such great modifications in accordance with Japanese genius that they ceased to retain more than a trace of their originals. From the 9th century luxurious habits prevailed in Kiōto under the sway of the Fujiwara regents, and the imperial city’s munificent patronage drew to its precincts a crowd of artisans. But these were not industrials, in the Western sense of the term, and, further, their organization was essentially domestic, each family selecting its own pursuit and following it from generation to generation without co-operation or partnership with any outsider. The establishment of military feudalism in the 12th century brought a reaction from the effeminate luxury of the metropolis, and during nearly 300 years no industry enjoyed large popularity except that of the armourer and the sword-smith. No sooner, however, did the prowess of Oda Nobunaga and, above all, of Hideyoshi, the taikō, bring within sight a cessation of civil war and the unification of the country, than the taste for beautiful objects and artistic utensils recovered vitality. By degrees there grew up among the feudal barons a keen rivalry in art industry, and the shōgun’s court in Yedo set a standard which the feudatories constantly strove to attain. Ultimately, in the days immediately antecedent to its fall, the shōgun’s administration sought to induce a more logical system by encouraging local manufacturers to supply local needs only, leaving to Kiōto and Yedo the duty of catering to general wants.

But before this reform had approached maturity, the second advent of Western nations introduced to Japan the products of an industrial civilization centuries in advance of her own from the point of view of utility, though nowise superior in the application of art. Immediately the nation became alive to the necessity of correcting its own inferiority in this respect. But the people being entirely without models for organization, without financial machinery and without the idea of joint stock enterprise, the government had to choose between entering the field as an instructor, and leaving the nation to struggle along an arduous and expensive way to tardy development. There could be no question as to which course would conduce more to the general advantage, and thus, in days immediately subsequent to the resumption of administrative power by the emperor, the spectacle was seen of official excursions into the domains of silk-reeling, cement-making, cotton and silk spinning, brick-burning, printing and book-binding, soap-boiling, type-casting and ceramic decoration, to say nothing of their establishing colleges and schools where all branches of applied science were taught. Domestic exhibitions also were organized, and specimens cf the country’s products and manufactures were sent under government auspices to exhibitions abroad. On the other hand, the effect of this new departure along Western lines could not but be injurious to the old domestic industries of the country, especially to those which owed their existence to tastes and traditions now regarded as obsolete. Here again the government came to the rescue by establishing a firm whose functions were to familiarize foreign markets with the products of Japanese artisans, and to instruct the latter in adaptations likely to appeal to Occidental taste. Steps were also taken for training women as artisans, and the government printing bureau set the example of employing female labour, an innovation which soon developed large dimensions. In short, the authorities applied themselves to educate an industrial disposition throughout the country, and as soon as success seemed to be in sight, they gradually transferred from official to private direction the various model enterprises, retaining only such as were required to supply the needs of the state.

The result of all this effort was that whereas, in the beginning of the Meiji era, Japan had virtually no industries worthy of the name, she possessed in 1896—that is to say, after an interval of 25 years of effort—no less than 4595 industrial and commercial companies, joint stock or partnership, with a paid-up capital of 40 millions sterling. Her development during the decade ending in 1906 is shown in the following table:—

Number of
companies. Paid-up capital
(millions sterling). Reserves
(millions
sterling).

1897 6,113 53 6

1901 8,602 83 12

1906 9,329 107 26

What effect this development exercised upon the country’s over-sea trade may be inferred from the fact that, whereas the manufactured goods exported in 1870 were nil, their value in 1901 was 8 millions sterling, and in 1906 the figure rose to over 20 millions. In the following table are given some facts relating to the principal industries in which foreign markets are interested:—

Cotton Yarns

Spindles. Operatives. Quantity
produced. Remarks.

Male. Female.

℔ This is a wholly new
industry in Japan. It had
no existence before the
Meiji era.

1897 768,328 9,933 35,059 216,913,196

1901 1,181,762 13,481 49,540 274,861,380

1906 1,425,406 13,032 59,281 383,359,113

Woven Goods

Looms. Operatives. Market value
of products. Remarks.

Male. Female.

Millions sterling. It is observable that a decrease
in the number of operatives is
concurrent with an increase of
production.

1897 947,134 54,119 987,110 19

1901 719,550 43,172 747,946 24

1906 736,828 40,886 751,605 36

Matches

Families
engaged. Operatives. Quantity
produced. Value. Remarks

Male. Female.

Gross. £ This is an altogether new
industry. Japanese matches
now hold the leading place
in all Far-Eastern markets.

1897 269 21,447 26,277 24,038,960 654,849

1901 261 5,656 16,50 32,901,319 926,689

1906 250 5,468 18,721 54,802,293 1,551,698

Foreign Paper (as distinguished from Japanese)

Factories. Operatives. Quantity
produced. Value. Remarks.

Male. Female.

℔ £ Had not Japanese factories
been established all this paper
must have been imported.

1897 9 164 109 46,256,649 300,662

1901 13 2,635 1,397 113,348,340 714,094

1906 22 3,774 1,778 218,022,434 1,415,778

In the field of what may be called minor manufactures—as ceramic wares, lacquers, straw-plaits, &c.—there has been corresponding growth, for the value of these productions increased from 1¼ millions sterling in 1897 to 3½ millions in 1906. But as these manufactures do not enter into competition with foreign goods in either Eastern or Western markets, they are interesting only as showing the development of Japan’s producing power. They contribute nothing to the solution of the problem whether Japanese industries are destined ultimately to drive their foreign rivals from the markets of Asia, if not to compete injuriously with them even in Europe and America. Japan seems to have one great advantage over Occidental countries: she possesses an abundance of dexterous and exceptionally cheap labour. It has been said, indeed, that this latter advantage is not likely to be permanent, since the wages of labour and the cost of living are fast increasing. The average cost of labour doubled in the interval between 1895 and 1906, but, on the other hand, the number of manufacturing organizations doubled in the same time, while the amount of their paid-up capital nearly trebled. As to the necessaries of life, if those specially affected by government monopolies be excluded, the rate of appreciation between 1900 and 1906 averaged about 30%, and it thus appears that the cost of living is not increasing with the same rapidity as the remuneration earned by labour. The manufacturing progress of the nation seems, therefore, to have a bright future, the only serious impediment being deficient capital. There is abundance of coal, and steps have been taken on a large scale to utilize the many excellent opportunities which the country offers for developing electricity by water-power.

The fact that Japan’s exports of raw silk amount to more than 12 millions sterling, while she sends over-sea only 3½ millions’ worth of silk fabrics, suggests some marked inferiority on the part of her weavers. But the true explanation seems to be that her distance from the Occident handicaps her in catering for the changing fashions of the West. There cannot be any doubt that the skill of Japanese weavers was at one time eminent. The sun goddess herself, the predominant figure in the Japanese pantheon, is said to have practised weaving; the names of four varieties of woven fabrics were known in prehistoric times; the 3rd century of the Christian era saw the arrival of a Korean maker of cloth; after him came an influx of Chinese who were distributed throughout the country to improve the arts of sericulture and silk-weaving; a sovereign (Yuriaku) of the 5th century employed 92 groups of naturalized Chinese for similar purposes; in 421 the same emperor issued a decree encouraging the culture of mulberry trees and calling for taxes on silk and cotton; the manufacture of textiles was directly supervised by the consort of this sovereign; in 645 a bureau of weaving was established; many other evidences are conclusive as to the great antiquity of the art of silk and cotton weaving in Japan.

The coming of Buddhism in the 6th century contributed not a little to the development of the art, since not only did the priests require for their own vestments and for the decoration of temples silken fabrics of more and more gorgeous description, but also these holy men themselves, careful always to keep touch with the continental developments of their faith, made frequent voyages to China, whence they brought back to Japan a knowledge of whatever technical or artistic improvements the Middle Kingdom could show. When Kiōto became the permanent metropolis of the empire, at the close of the 8th century, a bureau was established for weaving brocades and rich silk stuffs to be used in the palace. This preluded an era of some three centuries of steadily developing luxury in Kiōto; an era when an essential part of every aristocratic mansion’s furniture was a collection of magnificent silk robes for use in the sumptuous Nō. Then, in the 15th century came the “Tea Ceremonial,” when the brocade mountings of a picture or the wrapper of a tiny tea-jar possessed an almost incredible value, and such skill was attained by weavers and dyers that even fragments of the fabrics produced by them command extravagant prices to-day. Kiōto always remained, and still remains, the chief producing centre, and to such a degree has the science of colour been developed there that no less than 4000 varieties of tint are distinguished. The sense of colour, indeed, seems to have been a special endowment of the Japanese people from the earliest times, and some of the combinations handed down from medieval times are treasured as incomparable examples. During the long era of peace under the Tokugawa administration the costumes of men and women showed an increasing tendency to richness and beauty. This culminated in the Genroku epoch (1688-1700), and the aristocracy of the present day delight in viewing histrionic performances where the costumes of that age and of its rival, the Momoyama (end of the 16th century) are reproduced.

It would be possible to draw up a formidable catalogue of the various kinds of silk fabrics manufactured in Japan before the opening of the Meiji era, and the signal ability of her weavers has derived a new impulse from contact with the Occident. Machinery has been largely introduced, and though the products of hand-looms still enjoy the reputation of greater durability, there has unquestionably been a marked development of producing power. Japanese looms now turn out about 17 millions sterling of silk textiles, of which less than 4 millions go abroad. Nor is increased quantity alone to be noted, for at the factory of Kawashima in Kiōto Gobelins are produced such as have never been rivalled elsewhere.

Commerce in Tokugawa Times.—The conditions existing in Japan during the two hundred and fifty years prefatory to the modern opening of the country were unfavourable to the development alike of national and of international trade. As to the former, the system of feudal government exercised a crippling influence, for each feudal chief endeavoured to check the exit of any kind of property from his fief, and free interchange of commodities was thus prevented so effectually that cases are recorded of one feudatory’s subjects dying of starvation while those of an adjoining fief enjoyed abundance. International commerce, on the other hand, lay under the veto of the central government, which punished with death anyone attempting to hold intercourse with foreigners. Thus the fiefs practised a policy of mutual seclusion at home, and united to maintain a policy of general seclusion abroad. Yet it was under the feudal system that the most signal development of Japanese trade took place, and since the processes of that development have much historical interest they invite close attention.

As the bulk of a feudal chief’s income was paid in rice, arrangements had to be made for sending the grain to market and transmitting its proceeds. This was effected originally by establishing in Osaka stores (kura-yashiki), under the charge of samurai, who received the rice, sold it to merchants in that city and remitted the proceeds by official carriers. But from the middle of the 17th century these stores were placed in the charge of tradesmen to whom was given the name of kake-ya (agent). They disposed of the products entrusted to them by a fief and held the money, sending it by monthly instalments to an appointed place, rendering yearly accounts and receiving commission at the rate of from 2 to 4%. They had no special licence, but they were honourably regarded and often distinguished by an official title or an hereditary pension. In fact a kake-ya, of such standing as the Mitsui and the Konoike families, was, in effect, a banker charged with the finances of several fiefs. In Osaka the method of sale was uniform. Tenders were invited, and these having been opened in the presence of all the store officials and kake-ya, the successful tenderers had to deposit bargain-money, paying the remainder within ten days, and thereafter becoming entitled to take delivery of the rice in whole or by instalments within a certain time, no fee being charged for storage. A similar system existed in Yedo, the shōgun’s capital. Out of the custom of deferred delivery developed the establishment of exchanges where advances were made against sale certificates, and purely speculative transactions came into vogue. There followed an experience common enough in the West at one time: public opinion rebelled against these transactions in margins on the ground that they tended to enhance the price of rice. Several of the brokers were arrested and brought to trial; marginal dealings were thenceforth forbidden, and a system of licences was inaugurated in Yedo, the number of licensed dealers being restricted to 108.

The system of organized trading companies had its origin in the 12th century, when, the number of merchants admitted within the confines of Yedo being restricted, it became necessary for those not obtaining that privilege to establish some mode of co-operation, and there resulted the formation of companies with representatives stationed in the feudal capital and share-holding members in the provinces. The Ashikaga shōguns developed this restriction by selling to the highest bidder the exclusive right of engaging in a particular trade, and the Tokugawa administration had recourse to the same practice. But whereas the monopolies instituted by the Ashikaga had for sole object the enrichment of the exchequer, the Tokugawa regarded it chiefly as a means of obtaining worthy representatives in each branch of trade. The first licences were issued in Yedo to keepers of bath-houses in the middle of the 17th century. As the city grew in dimensions these licences increased in value, so that pawnbrokers willingly accepted them in pledge for loans. Subsequently almanack-sellers were obliged to take out licences, and the system was afterwards extended to money-changers.

It was to the fishmongers, however, that the advantages of commercial organization first presented themselves vividly. The greatest fish-market in Japan is at Nihon-bashi in Tōkyō (formerly Yedo). It had its origin in the needs of the Tokugawa court. When Iyeyasu (founder of the Tokugawa dynasty) entered Yedo in 1590, his train was followed by some fishermen of Settsu, to whom he granted the privilege of plying their trade in the adjacent seas, on condition that they furnished a supply of their best fish for the use of the garrison. The remainder they offered for sale at Nihon-bashi. Early in the 17th century one Sukegoro of Yamato province (hence called Yamato-ya) went to Yedo and organized the fishmongers into a great gild. Nothing is recorded about this man’s antecedents, though his mercantile genius entitles him to historical notice. He contracted for the sale of all the fish obtained in the neighbouring seas, advanced money to the fishermen on the security of their catch, constructed preserves for keeping the fish alive until they were exposed in the market, and enrolled all the dealers in a confederation which ultimately consisted of 391 wholesale merchants and 246 brokers. The main purpose of Sukegoro’s system was to prevent the consumer from dealing direct with the producer. Thus in return for the pecuniary accommodation granted to fishermen to buy boats and nets they were required to give every fish they caught to the wholesale merchant from whom they had received the advance; and the latter, on his side, had to sell in the open market at prices fixed by the confederation. A somewhat similar system applied to vegetables, though in this case the monopoly was never so close.

It will be observed that this federation of fishmongers approximated closely to a trust, as the term is now understood; that is to say, an association of merchants engaged in the same branch of trade and pledged to observe certain rules in the conduct of their business as well as to adhere to fixed rates. The idea was extended to nearly every trade, 10 monster confederations being organized in Yedo and 24 in Osaka. These received official recognition, and contributed a sum to the exchequer under the euphonious name of “benefit money,” amounting to nearly £20,000 annually. They attained a high state of prosperity, the whole of the cities’ supplies passing through their hands. No member of a confederation was permitted to dispose of his licence except to a near relative, and if anyone not on the roll of a confederation engaged in the same business he became liable to punishment at the hands of the officials. In spite of the limits thus imposed on the transfer of licences, one of these documents commanded from £80 to £6,400, and in the beginning of the 19th century the confederations, or gilds, had increased to 68 in Yedo, comprising 1195 merchants. The gild system extended to maritime enterprise also. In the beginning of the 17th century a merchant of Sakai (near Osaka) established a junk service between Osaka and Yedo, but this kind of business did not attain any considerable development until the close of that century, when 10 gilds of Yedo and 24 of Osaka combined to organize a marine-transport company for the purpose of conveying their own merchandise. Here also the principle of monopoly was strictly observed, no goods being shipped for unaffiliated merchants. This carrying trade rapidly assumed large dimensions. The number of junks entering Yedo rose to over 1500 yearly. They raced from port to port, just as tea-clippers from China to Europe used to race in recent times, and troubles incidental to their rivalry became so serious that it was found necessary to enact stringent rules. Each junk-master had to subscribe a written oath that he would comply strictly with the regulations and observe the sequence of sailing as determined by lot. The junks had to call en route at Uraga for the purpose of undergoing official examination. The order of their arrival there was duly registered, and the master making the best record throughout the year received a present in money as well as a complimentary garment, and became the shippers’ favourite next season.

Operations relating to the currency also were brought under the control of gilds. The business of money-changing seems to have been taken up as a profession from the beginning of the 15th century, but it was then in the hands of pedlars who carried strings of copper cash which they exchanged for gold or silver coins, then in rare circulation, or for parcels of gold dust. From the early part of the 17th century exchanges were opened in Yedo, and in 1718 the men engaged in this business formed a gild after the fashion of the time. Six hundred of these received licences, and no unlicensed person was permitted to purchase the avocation. Four representatives of the chief exchange met daily and fixed the ratio between gold and silver, the figure being then communicated to the various exchanges and to the shōgun’s officials. As for the prices of gold or silver in terms of copper or bank-notes, 24 representatives of the exchanges met every evening, and, in the presence of an official censor, settled the figure for the following day and recorded the amount of transactions during the past 24 hours, full information on these points being at once sent to the city governors and the street elders.

The exchanges in their ultimate form approximated very closely to the Occidental idea of banks. They not only bought gold, silver and copper coins, but they also received money on deposit, made loans and issued vouchers which played a very important part in commercial transactions. The voucher seems to have come into existence in Japan in the 14th century. It originated in the Yoshino market of Yamato province, where the hilly nature of the district rendered the carriage of copper money so arduous that rich merchants began to substitute written receipts and engagements which quickly became current. Among these documents there was a “joint voucher” (kumiai-fuda), signed by several persons, any one of whom might be held responsible for its redemption. This had large vogue, but it did not obtain official recognition until 1636, when the third Tokugawa shōgun selected 30 substantial merchants and divided them into 3 gilds, each authorized to issue vouchers, provided that a certain sum was deposited by way of security. Such vouchers were obviously a form of bank-note. Their circulation by the exchange came about in a similar manner. During many years the treasure of the shōgun and of the feudal chiefs was carried to Yedo by pack-horses and coolies of the regular postal service. But the costliness of such a method led to the selection in 1691 of 10 exchange agents who were appointed bankers to the Tokugawa government and were required to furnish money within 30 days of the date of an order drawn on them. These agents went by the name of the “ten-men gild.” Subsequently the firm of Mitsui was added, but it enjoyed the special privilege of being allowed 150 days to collect a specified amount. The gild received moneys on account of the Tokugawa or the feudal chiefs at provincial centres, and then made its own arrangements for cashing the cheques drawn upon it by the shōgun or the daimyō in Yedo. If coin happened to be immediately available, it was employed to cash the cheques; otherwise the vouchers of the gild served instead. It was in Osaka, however, that the functions of the exchanges acquired fullest development. That city has exhibited, in all eras, a remarkable aptitude for trade. Its merchants, as already shown, were not only entrusted with the duty of selling the rice and other products of the surrounding fiefs, but also they became depositories of the proceeds, which they paid out on account of the owners in whatever sums the latter desired. Such an evidence of official confidence greatly strengthened their credit, and they received further encouragement from the second Tokugawa shōgun (1605-1623)and from Ishimaru Sadatsugu, governor of the city in 1661. He fostered wholesale transactions, sought to introduce a large element of credit into commerce by instituting a system of credit sales; took measures to promote the circulation of cheques; inaugurated market sales of gold and silver and appointed ten chiefs of exchange who were empowered to oversee the business of money-exchanging in general. These ten received exemption from municipal taxation and were permitted to wear swords. Under them were 22 exchanges forming a gild, whose members agreed to honour one another’s vouchers and mutually to facilitate business. Gradually they elaborated a regular system of banking, so that, in the middle of the 18th century, they issued various descriptions of paper-orders for fixed sums payable at certain places within fixed periods; deposit notes redeemable on the demand of an indicated person or his order; bills of exchange drawn by A upon B in favour of C (a common form for use in monthly or annual settlements); promissory notes to be paid at a future time, or cheques payable at sight, for goods purchased; and storage orders engaging to deliver goods on account of which earnest money had been paid. These last, much employed in transactions relating to rice and sugar, were generally valid for a period of 3 years and 3 months, were signed by a confederation of exchanges or merchants on joint responsibility, and guaranteed the delivery of the indicated merchandise independently of all accidents. They passed current as readily as coin, and advances could always be obtained against them from pawnbrokers.

All these documents, indicating a well-developed system of credit, were duly protected by law, severe penalties being inflicted for any failure to implement the pledges they embodied. The merchants of Yedo and Osaka, working on the system of trusts here described, gradually acquired great wealth and fell into habits of marked luxury. It is recorded that they did not hesitate to pay £5 for the first bonito of the season and £11 for the first egg-fruit. Naturally the spectacle of such extravagance excited popular discontent. Men began to grumble against the so-called “official merchants” who, under government auspices, monopolized every branch of trade; and this feeling grew almost uncontrollable in 1836, when rice rose to an unprecedented price owing to crop failure. Men loudly ascribed that state of affairs to regrating on the part of the wholesale companies, and murmurs similar to those raised at the close of the 19th century in America against the trust system began to reach the ears of the authorities perpetually. The celebrated Fujita Toko of Mito took up the question. He argued that the monopoly system, since it included Osaka, exposed the Yedo market to all the vicissitudes of the former city, which had then lost much of its old prosperity.

Finally, in 1841, the shōgun’s chief minister, Mizuno Echizen-no-Kami, withdrew all trading licences, dissolved the gilds and proclaimed that every person should thenceforth be free to engage in any commerce without let or hindrance. This recklessly drastic measure, vividly illustrating the arbitrariness of feudal officialdom, not only included the commercial gilds, the shipping gilds, the exchange gilds and the land transport gilds, but was also carried to the length of forbidding any company to confine itself to wholesale dealings. The authorities further declared that in times of scarcity wholesale transactions must be abandoned altogether and retail business alone carried on, their purpose being to bring retail and wholesale prices to the same level. The custom of advancing money to fishermen or to producers in the provincial districts was interdicted; even the fuda-sashi might no longer ply their calling, and neither bath-house keepers nor hairdressers were allowed to combine for the purpose of adopting uniform rates of charges. But this ill-judged interference produced evils greater than those it was intended to remedy. The gilds had not really been exacting. Their organization had reduced the cost of distribution, and they had provided facilities of transport which brought produce within quick and cheap reach of central markets.

Ten years’ experience showed that a modified form of the old system would conduce to public interests. The gilds were re-established, licence fees, however, being abolished, and no limit set to the number of firms in a gild. Things remained thus until the beginning of the Meiji era (1867), when the gilds shared the cataclysm that overtook all the country’s old institutions.

Japanese commercial and industrial life presents another feature which seems to suggest special aptitude for combination. In mercantile or manufacturing families, while the eldest son always succeeded to his father’s business, not only the younger sons but also the apprentices and employees, after they had served faithfully for a number of years, expected to be set up as branch houses under the auspices of the principal family, receiving a place of business, a certain amount of capital and the privilege of using the original house-name. Many an old-established firm thus came to have a plexus of branches all serving to extend its business and strengthen its credit, so that the group held a commanding position in the business world. It will be apparent from the above that commercial transactions on a large scale in pre-Meiji days were practically limited to the two great cities of Yedo and Osaka, the people in the provincial fiefs having no direct association with the gild system, confining themselves, for the most part, to domestic industries on a small scale, and not being allowed to extend their business beyond the boundaries of the fief to which they belonged.

Foreign Commerce during the Meiji Era.—If Japan’s industrial development in modern times has been remarkable, the same may be said even more emphatically about the development of her over-sea commerce. This was checked at first not only by the unpopularity attaching to all intercourse with outside nations, but also by embarrassments resulting from the difference between the silver price of gold in Japan and its silver price in Europe, the precious metals being connected in Japan by a ratio of 1 to 8, and in Europe by a ratio of 1 to 15. This latter fact was the cause of a sudden and violent appreciation of values; for the government, seeing the country threatened with loss of all its gold, tried to avert the catastrophe by altering and reducing the weights of the silver coins without altering their denominations, and a corresponding difference exhibited itself, as a matter of course, in the silver quotations of commodities. Another difficulty was the attitude of officialdom. During several centuries Japan’s over-sea trade had been under the control of officialdom, to whose coffers it contributed a substantial revenue. But when the foreign exporter entered the field under the conditions created by the new system, he diverted to his own pocket the handsome profit previously accruing to the government; and since the latter could not easily become reconciled to this loss of revenue, or wean itself from its traditional habit of interference in affairs of foreign commerce, and since the foreigner, on his side, not only desired secrecy in order to prevent competition, but was also tormented by inveterate suspicions of Oriental espionage, not a little friction occurred from time to time. Thus the scanty records of that early epoch suggest that trade was beset with great difficulties, and that the foreigner had to contend against most adverse circumstances, though in truth his gains amounted to 40 or 50%.

The chief staples of the early trade were tea and silk. It happened that just before Japan’s raw silk became available for export, the production of that article in France and Tea and Italy had been largely curtailed owing to a novel disease of the silkworm. Thus, when the first bales of Japanese silk appeared in London, and when it was found to possess qualities entitling it to the highest rank, a keen demand sprang up. Japanese green tea also, differing radically in flavour and bouquet from the black tea of China, appealed quickly to American taste, so that by the year 1907 Japan found herself selling to foreign countries tea to the extent of 1¼ millions sterling, and raw silk to the extent of 12¼ millions. This remarkable development is typical of the general history of Japan’s foreign trade in modern times. Omitting the first decade and a half, the statistics for which are imperfect, the volume of the trade grew from 5 millions sterling in 1873—3 shillings per head of the population—to 93 millions in 1907—or 38 shillings per head. It was not a uniform growth. The period of 35 years divides itself conspicuously into two eras: the first, of 15 years (1873-1887), during which the development was from 5 millions to 9.7 millions, a ratio of 1 to 2, approximately; the second, of 20 years (1887-1907), during which the development was from 9.7 millions to 93 millions, a ratio of 1 to 10.

That a commerce which scarcely doubled itself in the first fifteen years should have grown nearly tenfold in the next twenty is a fact inviting attention. There are two principal causes: one general, the other special. The general cause was that several years necessarily elapsed before the nation’s material condition began to respond perceptibly to the improvements effected by the Meiji government in matters of administration, taxation and transport facilities. Fiscal burdens had been reduced and security of life and property obtained, but railway building and road-making, harbour construction, the growth of posts, telegraphs, exchanges and banks, and the development of a mercantile marine did not exercise a sensible influence on the nation’s prosperity until 1884 or 1885. From that time the country entered a period of steadily growing prosperity, and from that time private enterprise may be said to have finally started upon a career of independent activity. The special cause which, from 1885, contributed to a marked growth of trade was the resumption of specie payments. Up to that time the treasury’s fiat notes had suffered such marked fluctuations of specie value that sound or successful commerce became very difficult. Against the importing merchant the currency trouble worked with double potency. Not only did the gold with which he purchased goods appreciate constantly in terms of the silver for which he sold them, but the silver itself appreciated sharply and rapidly in terms of the fiat notes paid by Japanese consumers. Cursory reflection may suggest that these factors should have stimulated exports as much as they depressed imports. But such was not altogether the case in practice. For the exporter’s transactions were hampered by the possibility that a delay of a week or even a day might increase the purchasing power of his silver in Japanese markets by bringing about a further depreciation of paper, so that he worked timidly and hesitatingly, dividing his operations as minutely as possible in order to take advantage of the downward tendency of the fiat notes. Not till this element of pernicious disturbance was removed did the trade recover a healthy tone and grow so lustily as to tread closely on the heels of the foreign commerce of China, with her 300 million inhabitants and long-established international relations.

Japan’s trade with the outer world was built up chiefly by the energy and enterprise of the foreign middleman. He acted the part of an almost ideal agent. As an exporter, his command of cheap capital, his experience, his knowledge of foreign markets, and his connexions enabled him to secure sales such as must have been beyond reach of the Japanese working independently. Moreover, he paid to native consumers ready cash for their staples, taking upon his own shoulders all the risks of finding markets abroad. As an importer, he enjoyed, in centres of supply, credit which the Japanese lacked, and he offered to native consumers foreign produce brought to their doors with a minimum of responsibility on their part. Finally, whether as exporters or importers, foreign middlemen always competed with each other so keenly that their Japanese clients obtained the best possible terms from them. Yet the ambition of the Japanese to oust them cannot be regarded as unnatural. Every nation must desire to carry on its own commerce independently of alien assistance; and moreover, the foreign middleman’s residence during many years within Japanese territory, but without the pale of Japanese sovereignty, invested him with an aggressive character which the anti-Oriental exclusiveness of certain Occidental nations helped to accentuate. Thus from the point of view of the average Japanese there are several reasons for wishing to dispense with alien middlemen, and it is plain that these reasons are operative; for whereas, in 1888, native merchants carried on only 12% of the country’s over-sea trade without the intervention of the foreign middlemen, their share rose to 35% in 1899 and has since been slowly increasing.

Analysis of Japan’s foreign trade during the Meiji era shows that during the 35-year period ending in 1907, imports exceeded exports in 21 years and exports exceeded imports in 14 years. This does not suggest a very badly balanced trade. But closer examination accentuates the difference, for when the figures are added, it is found that the excesses of exports aggregated only 11 millions sterling, whereas the excesses of imports totalled 71 millions, there being thus a so-called “unfavourable balance” of 60 millions over all. The movements of specie do not throw much light upon this subject, for they are complicated by large imports of gold resulting from war indemnities and foreign loans. Undoubtedly the balance is materially redressed by the expenditures of the foreign communities in the former settlements, of foreign tourists visiting Japan and of foreign vessels engaged in the carrying trade, as well as by the earnings of Japanese vessels and the interest on investments made by foreigners. Nevertheless there remains an appreciable margin against Japan, and it is probably to be accounted for by the consideration that she is still engaged equipping herself for the industrial career evidently lying before her.

The manner in which Japan’s over-sea trade was divided in 1907 among the seven foreign countries principally engaged in it may be seen from the following table:—

Exports to
£ (millions). Imports from
£ (millions). Total
£ (millions).

United States 131⁄2 81⁄2 22

China 83⁄4 61⁄4 15

Great Britain 21⁄4 113⁄4 14

British India 11⁄3 72⁄3 9

Germany 11⁄8 47⁄8 6

France 41⁄3 2⁄3 5

Korea 31⁄3 12⁄3 5

Among the 33 open ports of Japan, the first place belongs to Yokohama in the matter of foreign trade, and Kobe ranks second. The former far outstrips the latter in exports, but the case is reversed when imports are considered. As to the percentages of the whole trade standing to the credit of the five principal ports, the following figures may be consulted:—Yokohama, 40%; Kobe, 35.6; Osaka, 10; Moji, 5; and Nagasaki, 2.

VI.—Government, Administration, &c.

Emperor and Princes.—At the head of the Japanese State stands the emperor, generally spoken of by foreigners as the mikado (honourable gate), a title comparable with sublime porte and by his own subjects as tenshi (son of heaven) or tennō (heavenly king). The emperor Mutou Hito (q.v.) was the 121st of his line, according to Japanese history, which reckons from 660 B.C., when Jimmu ascended the throne. But as written records do not carry us back farther than A.D. 712, the reigns and periods of the very early monarchs are more or less apocryphal. Still the fact remains that Japan has been ruled by an unbroken dynasty ever since the dawn of her history, in which respect she is unique among all the nations in the world. There are four families of princes of the blood, from any one of which a successor to the throne may be taken in default of a direct heir: Princes Arisugawa, Fushimi, Kanin and Higashi Fushimi. These families are all direct descendants of emperors, and their heads have the title of shinnō (prince of the blood), whereas the other imperial princes, of whom there are ten, have only the second syllable of shinnō (pronounced wō when separated from shin). Second and younger sons of a shinnō are all wō, and eldest sons lose the title shin and become wō from the fifth generation.

The Peerage.—In former times there were no Japanese titles of nobility, as the term is understood in the Occident. Nobles there were, however, namely, kuge, or court nobles, descendants of younger sons of emperors, and daimyō (great name), some of whom could trace their lineage to mikados; but all owed their exalted position as feudal chiefs to military prowess. The Meiji restoration of 1867 led to the abolition of the daimyōs as feudal chiefs, and they, together with the kuge, were merged into one class called kwazoku (flower families), a term corresponding to aristocracy, all inferior persons being heimin (ordinary folk). In 1884, however, the five Chinese titles of ki (prince), kō (marquis), haku (count), shi (viscount) and dan (baron) were introduced, and patents were not only granted to the ancient nobility but also conferred on men who had rendered conspicuous public service. The titles are all hereditary, but they descend to the firstborn only, younger children having no distinguishing appellation. The first list in 1884 showed 11 princes, 24 marquises, 76 counts, 324 viscounts and 74 barons. After the war with China (1894-95) the total grew to 716, and the war with Russia (1904-5) increased the number to 912, namely, 15 princes, 39 marquises, 100 counts, 376 viscounts and 382 barons.

Household Department.—The Imperial household department is completely differentiated from the administration of state affairs. It includes bureaux of treasury, forests, peerage and hunting, as well as boards of ceremonies and chamberlains, officials of the empress’s household and officials of the crown prince’s household. The annual allowance made to the throne is £300,000, and the Imperial estate comprises some 12,000 acres of building land, 3,850,000 acres of forests, and 300,000 acres of miscellaneous lands, the whole valued at some 19 millions sterling, but probably not yielding an income of more than £200,000 yearly. Further, the household owns about 3 millions sterling (face value) of bonds and shares, from which a revenue of some £250,000 is derived, so that the whole income amounts to three-quarters of a million sterling, approximately. Out of this the households of the crown prince and all the Imperial princes are supported; allowances are granted at the time of conferring titles of nobility; a long list of charities receive liberal contributions, and considerable sums are paid to encourage art and education. The emperor himself is probably one of the most frugal sovereigns that ever occupied a throne.

Departments of State.—There are nine departments of state presided over by ministers—foreign affairs, home affairs, finance, war, navy, justice, education, agriculture and commerce, communications. These ministers form the cabinet, which is presided over by the minister president of state, so that its members number ten in all. Ministers of state are appointed by the emperor and are responsible to him alone. But between the cabinet and the crown stand a small body of men, the survivors of those by whose genius modern Japan was raised to her present high position among the nations. They are known as “elder statesmen” (genrō). Their proved ability constitutes an invaluable asset, and in the solution of serious problems their voice may be said to be final. At the end of 1909 four of these renowned statesmen remained—Prince Yamagata, Marquises Inouye and Matsukata and Count Okuma. There is also a privy council, which consists of a variable number of distinguished men—in 1909 there were 29, the president being Field-Marshal Prince Yamagata. Their duty is to debate and advise upon all matters referred to them by the emperor, who sometimes attends their meetings in person.

Civil Officials.—The total number of civil officials was 137,819 in 1906. It had been only 68,876 in 1898, from which time it grew regularly year by year. The salaries and allowances paid out of the treasury every year on account of the civil service are 4 millions sterling, approximately, and the annual emoluments of the principal officials are as follow:—Prime minister, £960; minister of a department, £600; ambassador, £500, with allowances varying from £2200 to £3000; president of privy council, £500; resident-general in Seoul, £600; governor-general of Formosa, £600; vice-minister, £400; minister plenipotentiary, £400, with allowances from £1000 to £1700; governor of prefecture, £300 to £360; judge of the court of cassation, £200 to £500; other judges, £60 to £400; professor of imperial university, from £80 to £160, with allowances from £40 to £120; privy councillor, £400; director of a bureau, £300; &c.

Legislature.—The first Japanese Diet was convoked the 29th of November, 1890. There are two chambers, a house of peers (kizoku-in) and a house of representatives (shugi-in). Each is invested with the same legislative power.

The upper chamber consists of four classes of members. They are, first, hereditary members, namely, princes and marquises, who are entitled to sit when they reach the age of 25; secondly, counts, viscounts and barons, elected—after they have attained their 25th year—by their respective orders in the maximum ratio of one member to every five peers; thirdly, men of education or distinguished service who are nominated by the emperor; and, fourthly, representatives of the highest tax-payers, elected, one for each prefecture, by their own class. The minimum age limit for non-titled members is 30, and it is provided that their total number must not exceed that of the titled members. The house was composed in 1909 of 14 princes of the blood, 15 princes, 39 marquises, 17 counts, 69 viscounts, 56 barons, 124 Imperial nominees, and 45 representatives of the highest tax-payers—that is to say, 210 titled members and 169 non-titled.

The lower house consists of elected members only. Originally the property qualification was fixed at a minimum annual payment of 30s. in direct taxes (i.e. taxes imposed by the central government), but in 1900 the law of election was amended, and the property qualification for electors is now a payment of £1 in direct taxes, while for candidates no qualification is required either as to property or as to locality. Members are of two kinds, namely, those returned by incorporated cities and those returned by prefectures. In each case the ratio is one member for every 130,000 electors, and the electoral district is the city or prefecture.

Voting is by ballot, one man one vote, and a general election must take place once in 4 years for the house of representatives, and once in 7 years for the house of peers. The house of representatives, however, is liable to be dissolved by order of the sovereign as a disciplinary measure, in which event a general election must be held within 5 months from the date of dissolution, whereas the house of peers is not liable to any such treatment. Otherwise the two houses enjoy equal rights and privileges, except that the budget must first be submitted to the representatives. Each member receives a salary of £200; the president receives £500, and the vice-president £300. The presidents are nominated by the sovereign from three names submitted by each house, but the appointment of a vice-president is within the independent right of each chamber. The lower house consists of 379 members, of whom 75 are returned by the urban population and 304 by the rural. Under the original property qualification the number of franchise-holders was only 453,474, or 11.5 to every 1000 of the nation, but it is now 1,676,007, or 15.77 to every 1000. By the constitution which created the diet freedom of conscience, of speech and of public meeting, inviolability of domicile and correspondence, security from arrest or punishment except by due process of law, permanence of judicial appointments and all the other essential elements of civil liberty were granted. In the diet full legislative authority is vested: without its consent no tax can be imposed, increased or remitted; nor can any public money be paid out except the salaries of officials, which the sovereign reserves the right to fix at will. In the emperor are vested the prerogatives of declaring war and making peace, of concluding treaties, of appointing and dismissing officials, of approving and promulgating laws, of issuing urgent ordinances to take the temporary place of laws, and of conferring titles of nobility.

Procedure of the Diet.—It could scarcely have been expected that neither tumult nor intemperance would disfigure the proceedings of a diet whose members were entirely without parliamentary experience, but not without grievances to ventilate, wrongs (real or fancied) to avenge, and abuses to redress. On the whole, however, there has been a remarkable absence of anything like disgraceful licence. The politeness, the good temper, and the sense of dignity which characterize the Japanese, generally saved the situation when it threatened to degenerate into a “scene.” Foreigners entering the house of representatives in Tōkyō for the first time might easily misinterpret some of its habits. A number distinguishes each member. It is painted in white on a wooden indicator, the latter being fastened by a hinge to the face of the member’s desk. When present he sets the indicator standing upright, and lowers it when leaving the house. Permission to speak is not obtained by catching the president’s eye, but by calling out the aspirant’s number, and as members often emphasize their calls by hammering their desks with the indicators, there are moments of decided din. But, for the rest, orderliness and decorum habitually prevail. Speeches have to be made from a rostrum. There are few displays of oratory or eloquence. The Japanese formulates his views with remarkable facility. He is absolutely free from gaucherie or self-consciousness when speaking in public: he can think on his feet. But his mind does not usually busy itself with abstract ideas and subtleties of philosophical or religious thought. Flights of fancy, impassioned bursts of sentiment, appeals to the heart rather than to the reason of an audience, are devices strange to his mental habit. He can be rhetorical, but not eloquent. Among all the speeches hitherto delivered in the Japanese diet it would be difficult to find a passage deserving the latter epithet.

From the first the debates were recorded verbatim. Years before the date fixed for the promulgation of the constitution, a little band of students elaborated a system of stenography and adapted it to the Japanese syllabary. Their labours remained almost without recognition or remuneration until the diet was on the eve of meeting, when it was discovered that a competent staff of shorthand reporters could be organized at an hour’s notice. Japan can thus boast that, alone among the countries of the world, she possesses an exact record of the proceedings of her Diet from the moment when the first word was spoken within its walls.

A special feature of the Diet’s procedure helps to discourage oratorical displays. Each measure of importance has to be submitted to a committee, and not until the latter’s report has been received does serious debate take place. But in ninety-nine cases out of every hundred the committee’s report determines the attitude of the house, and speeches are felt to be more or less superfluous. One result of this system is that business is done with a degree of celerity scarcely known in Occidental legislatures. For example, the meetings of the house of representatives during the session 1896-1897 were 32, and the number of hours occupied by the sittings aggregated 116. Yet the result was 55 bills debated and passed, several of them measures of prime importance, such as the gold standard bill, the budget and a statutory tariff law. It must be remembered that although actual sittings of the houses are comparatively few and brief, the committees remain almost constantly at work from morning to evening throughout the twelve weeks of the session’s duration.

Divisions of the Empire.—The earliest traditional divisions of Japan into provinces was made by the emperor Seimu (131-190), in whose time the sway of the throne did not extend farther north than a line curving from Sendai Bay, on the north-east coast of the main island, to the vicinity of Niigata (one of the treaty ports), on the north-west coast. The region northward of this line was then occupied by barbarous tribes, of whom the Ainu (still to be found in Yezo) are probably the remaining descendants. The whole country was then divided into thirty-two provinces. In the 3rd century the empress Jingō, on her return from her victorious expedition against Korea, portioned out the empire into five home provinces and seven circuits, in imitation of the Korean system. By the emperor Mommu (696-707) some of the provinces were subdivided so as to increase the whole number to sixty-six, and the boundaries then fixed by him were re-surveyed in the reign of the emperor Shōmu (723-756). The old division is as follows:—

I. The Go-kinai or “five home provinces” i.e. those lying immediately around Kyōto, the capital, viz.:—

Yamashiro, also called Jōshū Izumi, also called Senshū

Yamato ” Washū Settsū ” Sesshū

Kawachi ” Kashū

II. The seven circuits, as follow:—

1. The Tōkaidō, or “eastern-sea circuit,” which comprised fifteen provinces, viz.:—

Iga or Ishū Kai or Kōshyū

Isé ” Seishū Sagami ” Sōshyū

Shima ” Shinshū Musashi ” Bushyū

Owari ” Bishū Awa ” Bōshū

Mikawa ” Sanshū Kazusa ” Sōshū

Tōtōmi ” Enshū Shimōsa ” Sōshū

Suruga ” Sunshū Hitachi ” Jōshū

Izu ” Dzushū

2. The Tōzandō, or “eastern-mountain circuit,” which comprised eight provinces, viz.:—

Ōmi or Gōshū Kōzuke or Jōshū

Mino ” Nōshū Shimotsuke ” Yashū

Hida ” Hishū Mutsu ” Ōshū

Shinano ” Shinshū Dewa ” Ushū

3. The Hokurikudō, or “northern-land circuit,” which comprised seven provinces, viz.:—

Wakasa or Jakushū Etchiu or Esshū

Echizen ” Esshū Echigo ” Esshū

Kaga ” Kashū Sado (island) ” Sashū

Noto ” Nōshū

4. The Sanindō, or “mountain-back circuit,” which comprised eight provinces, viz.:—

Tamba or Tanshū Hōki or Hakushū

Tango ” Tanshū Izumo ” Unshū

Tajima ” Tanshū Iwami ” Sekishū

Inaba ” Inshū Oki (group of islands)

5. The Sanyōdō, or “mountain-front circuit,” which comprised eight provinces, viz.:—

Harima or Banshū Bingo or Bishū

Mimasaka ” Sakushū Aki ” Geishū

Bizen ” Bishū Suwō ” Bōshū

Bitchiu ” Bishū Nagato ” Chōshū

6. The Nankaidō, or “southern-sea circuit,” which comprised, six provinces, viz.:—

Kii or Kishū Sanuki or Sanshū

Awaji (island) ” Tanshū Iyo ” Yoshū

Awa ” Ashū Tosa ” Toshū

7. The Saikaidō, or “western-sea circuit,” which comprised nine provinces, viz:—

Chikuzen or Chikushū Higo or Hishū

Chikugo ” Chikushū Hiuga ” Nisshū

Buzen ” Hōshū Osumi ” Gūshū

Bungo ” Hōshū Satsuma ” Sasshū

Hizen ” Hishū ”

III. The two islands, viz.:—

1. Tsushima or Taishū 2. Iki or Ishū

Upon comparing the above list with a map of Japan, it will be seen that the main island contains the Go-kinai, Tōkaidō, Tōzandō, Hokurikudō, Sanindō, Sanyōdō, and one province (Kishu) of the Nankaidō. Omitting also the island of Awaji, the remaining provinces of the Nankaidō give the name Shikoku (the “four provinces”) to the island in which they lie; while Saikaidō coincides exactly with the large island Kiūshiū (the “nine provinces”).

In 1868, when the rebellious nobles of Ōshū and Dewa, in the Tōzandō, had submitted to the emperor, those two provinces were subdivided, Dewa into Uzen and Ugo, and Ōshū into Iwaki, Iwashiro, Rikuzen, Rikuchū and Michinoku (usually called Mutsu). This increased the old number of provinces from sixty-six to seventy-one. At the same time there was created a new circuit, called the Hokkaidō, or “northern-sea circuit,” which comprised the eleven provinces into which the large island of Yezo was then divided (viz. Oshima, Shiribeshi, Ishikari, Teshibo, Kitami, Iburi, Hiaka, Tokachi, Kushiro, and Nemuro) and the Kurile Islands (Chishima).

Another division of the old sixty-six provinces was made by taking as a central point the ancient barrier of Osaka on the frontier of Ōmi and Yamashiro,—the region lying on the east, which consisted of thirty-three provinces, being called Kwantō, or “east of the barrier,” the remaining thirty-three provinces on the west being styled Kwansei, or “west of the barrier.” At the present time, however, the term Kwantō is applied to only the eight provinces of Musashi, Sagami, Kōzuke, Shimotsuke, Kazusa, Shimōsa, Awa and Hitachi,—all lying immediately to the east of the old barrier of Hakone, in Sagami.

Chū-goku, or “central provinces,” is a name in common use for the Sanindō and Sanyōdō taken together. Saikoku, or “western provinces,” is another name for Kiūshiū, which in books again is frequently called Chinsei.

Local Administrative Divisions.—For purposes of local administration Japan is divided into 3 urban prefectures (fu), 43 rural prefectures (ken), and 3 special dominions (chō), namely Formosa; Hokkaidō and South Sakhalin. Formosa and Sakhalin not having been included in Japan’s territories until 1895 and 1905, respectively, are still under the military control of a governor-general, and belong, therefore, to an administrative system different from that prevailing throughout the rest of the country. The prefectures and Hokkaidō are divided again into 638 sub-prefectures (gun or kōri); 60 towns (shi); 125 urban districts (chō) and 12,274 rural districts (son). The three urban prefectures are Tokyo, Osaka and Kiōto, and the urban and rural districts are distinguished according to the number of houses they contain. Each prefecture is named after its chief town, with the exception of Okinawa, which is the appellation of a group of islands called also Riūkiū (Luchu). The following table shows the names of the prefectures, their areas, populations, number of sub-prefectures, towns and urban and rural divisions:—

Prefecture. Area in
sq. m. Population Sub-
Prefectures. Towns Urban
Districts Rural
Districts

Tōkyō 749.76 1,795,128* 8 1 20 157

Kanagawa 927.79 776,642 11 1 19 202

Saitama 1,585.30 1,174,094 9 — 42 343

Chiba 1,943.85 1,273,387 12 — 69 286

Ibaraki 2,235.67 1,131,556 14 1 45 335

Tochigi 2,854.14 788,324 8 1 30 145

Gumma 2,427.21 774,654 11 2 38 169

Nagano 5,088.41 1,237,584 16 1 22 371

Yamanashi 1,727.50 498,539 9 1 7 235

Shizuoka 3,002.76 1,199,805 13 1 38 306

Aichi 1,864.17 1,591,357 19 1 74 592

Miye 2,196.56 495,389 15 2 19 325

Gifu 4,001.84 996,062 18 1 42 299

Shiga 1,540.30 712,024 12 1 12 190

Fukui 1,621.50 633,840 11 1 9 171

Ishikawa 1,611.59 392,905 8 1 16 259

Toyama 1,587.80 785,554 8 2 31 239

The above 17 prefectures form Central Japan.

Niigata 4,914.55 1,812,289 16 1 47 401

Fukushima 5,042.57 1,057,971 17 1 37 388

Miyagi 3,223.11 835,830 16 1 31 172

Yamagata 3,576.89 829,210 11 2 24 206

Akita 4,493.84 775,077 9 1 42 197

Iwate 5,359.17 726,380 13 1 23 217

Aomori 3,617.89 612,171 8 2 9 159

The above 7 prefectures form Northern Japan.

Kiōto 1,767.43 931,576* 18 1 20 260

Osaka 689.69 1,311,909* 9 2 13 289

Nara 1,200.46 538,507 10 1 18 142

Wakayama 1,851.29 681,572 7 1 16 215

Hiōgo 3,318.31 1,667,226 25 2 29 403

Okayama 2,509.04 1,132,000 19 1 29 383

Hiroshima 3,103.84 1,436,415 16 3 27 420

Yamaguchi 1,324.34 986,161 11 1 10 215

Shimane 2,597.48 721,448 16 1 14 276

Tottori 1,335.99 418,929 6 1 8 227

The above 10 prefectures form Southern Japan.

Tokushima 1,616.82 699,398 10 1 2 137

Kagawa 976.46 700,462 7 2 12 166

Ehime 2,033.57 997,481 12 1 18 283

Kochi 2,720.13 616,549 6 1 14 183

The above 4 prefectures form the island of Shikoku.

Nagasaki 1,401.49 821,323 9 2 15 288

Saga 984.07 621,011 8 1 7 127

Fukuoka 1,894.14 1,362,743 19 4 38 340

Kumamoto 2,774.20 1,151,401 12 1 33 331

Oita 2,400.27 839,485 12 — 28 251

Miyazaki 2,904.54 454,707 8 — 9 91

Kagoshima 3,589.76 1,104,631 12 1 — 380

Okinawa 935.18 469,203 5 2 — 52

The above 8 prefectures form Kiūshiū.

Hokkaidō 36,328.34 610,155 88 3 19 456

* This is not the population of the city proper, but that of the urban prefecture.

Local Administrative System.—In the system of local administration full effect is given to the principle of popular representation. Each prefecture (urban or rural), each sub-prefecture, each town and each district (urban or rural) has its local assembly, the number of members being fixed in proportion to the population. There is no superior limit of number in the case of a prefectural assembly, but the inferior limit is 30. For a town assembly, however, the superior limit is 60 and the inferior 30; for a sub-prefectural assembly the corresponding figures are 40 and 15, and for a district assembly, 30 and 8. These bodies are all elective. The property qualification for the franchise in the case of prefectural and sub-prefectural assemblies is an annual payment of direct national taxes to the amount of 3 yen; and in the case of town and district assemblies, 2 yen; while to be eligible for election to a prefectural assembly a yearly payment of 10 yen of direct national taxes is necessary; to a sub-prefectural assembly, 5 yen, and to a town or district assembly, 2 yen. Under these qualifications the electors aggregate 2,009,745, and those eligible for election total 919,507. In towns and districts franchise-holders are further divided into classes with regard to their payment of local taxes. Thus for town electors there are three classes, differentiated by the following process: On the list of ratepayers the highest are checked off until their aggregate payments are equal to one-third of the total taxes. These persons form the first class. Next below them the persons whose aggregate payments represent one-third of the total amount are checked off to form the second class, and all the remainder form the third class. Each class elects one-third of the members of assembly. In the districts there are only two classes, namely, those whose payments, in order from the highest, aggregate one-half of the total, the remaining names on the list being placed in the second class. Each class elects one-half of the members. This is called the system of ō-jinushi (large landowners) and is found to work satisfactorily as a device for conferring representative rights in proportion to property. The franchise is withheld from all salaried local officials, from judicial officials, from ministers of religion, from persons who, not being barristers by profession, assist the people in affairs connected with law courts or official bureaux, and from every individual or member of a company that contracts for the execution of public works or the supply of articles to a local administration, as well as from persons unable to write their own names and the name of the candidate for whom they vote. Members of assembly are not paid. For prefectural and sub-prefectural assemblies the term is four years; for town and district assemblies, six years, with the provision that one-half of the members must be elected every third year. The prefectural assemblies hold one session of 30 days yearly; the sub-prefectural assemblies, one session of not more than 14 days. The town and district assemblies have no fixed session; they are summoned by the mayor or the head-man when their deliberations appear necessary, and they continue in session till their business is concluded.

The chief function of the assemblies is to deal with all questions of local finance. They discuss and vote the yearly budgets; they pass the settled accounts; they fix the local taxes within a maximum limit which bears a certain ratio to the national taxes; they make representations to the minister for home affairs; they deal with the fixed property of the locality; they raise loans, and so on. It is necessary, however, that they should obtain the consent of the minister for home affairs, and sometimes of the minister of finance also, before disturbing any objects of scientific, artistic or historical importance; before contracting loans; before imposing special taxes or passing the normal limits of taxation; before enacting new local regulations or changing the old; before dealing with grants in aid made by the central treasury, &c. The governor of a prefecture, who is appointed by the central administration, is invested with considerable power. He oversees the carrying out of all works undertaken at the public expense; he causes bills to be drafted for discussion by an assembly; he is responsible for the administration of the funds and property of the prefecture; he orders payments and receipts; he directs the machinery for collecting taxes and fees; he summons a prefectural assembly, opens it and closes it, and has competence to suspend its session should such a course seem necessary. Many of the functions performed by the governor with regard to prefectural assemblies are discharged by a head-man (gun-chô) in the case of sub-prefectural assemblies. This head-man is a salaried official appointed by the central administration. He convenes, opens and closes the sub-prefectural assembly; he may require it to reconsider any of its financial decisions that seem improper, explaining his reasons for doing so, and should the assembly adhere to its original view, he may refer the matter to the governor of the prefecture. On the other hand, the assembly is competent to appeal to the home minister from the governor’s decision. The sub-prefectural head-man may also take upon himself, in case of emergency, any of the functions falling within the competence of the sub-prefectural assembly, provided that he reports the fact to the assembly and seeks its sanction at the earliest possible opportunity. In each district also there is a head-man, but his post is always elective and generally non-salaried. He occupies towards a district assembly the same position that the sub-prefecture head-man holds towards a sub-prefectural assembly. Over the governors stands the minister for home affairs, who discharges general duties of superintendence and sanction, has competence to delete any item of a local budget, and may, with the emperor’s consent, order the dissolution of a local assembly, provided that steps are taken to elect and convene another within three months.

The machinery of local administration is completed by councils, of which the governor of a prefecture, the mayor of a town, or the head-man of a sub-prefecture or district, is ex officio president, and the councillors are partly elective, partly nominated by the central government. The councils may be said to stand in an executive position towards the local legislatures, namely, the assemblies, for the former give effect to the measures voted by the latter, take their place in case of emergency and consider questions submitted by them. This system of local government has now been in operation since 1885, and has been found to work well. It constitutes a thorough method of political education for the people. In feudal days popular representation had no existence, but a very effective chain of local responsibility was manufactured by dividing the people—apart from the samurai—into groups of five families, which were held jointly liable for any offence committed by one of their members. Thus it cannot be said that the people were altogether unprepared for this new system.

The Army.—The Japanese—as distinguished from the aboriginal inhabitants of Japan—having fought their way into the country, are naturally described in their annals as a nation of soldiers. The sovereign is said to have been the commander-in-chief and his captains were known as o-omi and o-muraji, while the duty of serving in the ranks devolved on all subjects alike. This information is indeed derived from tradition only, since the first written record goes back no further than 712. We are justified, however, in believing that at the close of the 7th century of the Christian era, when the empress Jito sat upon the throne, the social system of the Tang dynasty of China commended itself for adoption; the distinction of civil and military is said to have been then established for the first time, though it probably concerned officials only. Certain officers received definitely military commissions, as generals, brigadiers, captains and so on; a military office (hyōbu-shō) was organized, and each important district throughout the empire had its military division (gundan). One-third—some say one-fourth—of the nation’s able-bodied males constituted the army. Tactically there was a complete organization, from the squad of 5 men to the division of 600 horse and 400 foot. Service was for a defined period, during which taxes were remitted, so that military duties always found men ready to discharge them. Thus the hereditary soldier—afterwards known as the samurai or bushi—did not yet exist, nor was there any such thing as an exclusive right to carry arms. Weapons of war, the property of the state, were served out when required for fighting or for training purposes.

At the close of the 8th century stubborn insurrections on the part of the aborigines gave new importance to the soldier. The conscription list had to be greatly increased, and it came to be a recognized principle that every stalwart man should bear arms, every weakling become a bread-winner. Thus, for the first time, the distinction between “soldier” and “working man” received official recognition, and in consequence of the circumstances attending the distinction a measure of contempt attached to the latter. The next stage of development had its origin in the assumption of high offices of state by great families, who encroached upon the imperial prerogatives, and appropriated as hereditary perquisites posts which should have remained in the gift of the sovereign. The Fujiwara clan, taking all the civil offices, resided in the capital, whereas the military posts fell to the lot of the Taira and the Minamoto, who, settling in the provinces and being thus required to guard and police the outlying districts, found it expedient to surround themselves with men who made soldiering a profession. These latter, in their turn, transmitted their functions to their sons, so that there grew up in the shadow of the great houses a number of military families devoted to maintaining the power and promoting the interests of their masters, from whom they derived their own privileges and emoluments.

From the middle of the 10th century, therefore, the terms samurai and bushi acquired a special significance, being applied to themselves and their followers by the local magnates, whose power tended more and more to eclipse even that of the throne, and finally, in the 12th century, when the Minamoto brought the whole country under the sway of military organization, the privilege of bearing arms was restricted to the samurai. Thenceforth the military class entered upon a period of administrative and social superiority which lasted, without serious interruption, until the middle of the 19th century. But it is to be observed that the distinction between soldier and civilian, samurai and commoner, was not of ancient existence, nor did it arise from any question of race or caste, victor or vanquished, as is often supposed and stated. It was an outcome wholly of ambitious usurpations, which, relying for success on force of arms, gave practical importance to the soldier, and invested his profession with factitious honour.

The bow was always the chief weapon of the fighting-man in Japan. “War” and “bow-and-arrow” were synonymous terms. Tradition tells how Tametomo shot an arrow through the crest of his brother’s helmet, in order to recall the youth’s allegiance without injuring him; how Nasuno Michitaka discharged a shaft that severed the stem of a fan swayed by the wind; how Mutsuru, ordered by an emperor to rescue a fish from the talons of an osprey without killing bird or fish, cut off the osprey’s feet with a crescent-headed arrow so that the fish dropped into the palace lake and the bird continued its flight; and there are many similar records of Japanese skill with the weapon. Still better authenticated were the feats performed at the “thirty-three-span halls” in Kiōto and Yedo, where the archer had to shoot an arrow through the whole length of a corridor 128 yards long and only 16 ft. high. Wada Daihachi, in the 17th century, succeeded in sending 8133 arrows from end to end of the corridor in 24 consecutive hours, being an average of over 5 shafts per minute; and Masatoki, in 1852, made 5383 successful shots in 20 hours, more than 4 a minute. The lengths of the bow and arrow were determined with reference to the capacity of the archer. In the case of the bow, the unit of measurement was the distance between the tips of the thumb and the little finger with the hand fully stretched. Fifteen of these units gave the length of the bow—the maximum being about 7½ ft. The unit for the arrow was from 12 to 15 hand-breadths, or from 3 ft. to 3¾ ft. Originally the bow was of unvarnished boxwood or zelkowa; but subsequently bamboo alone came to be employed. Binding with cord or rattan served to strengthen the bow, and for precision of flight the arrow had three feathers, an eagle’s wing being most esteemed for that purpose, and after it, in order, that of the copper pheasant, the crane, the adjutant and the snipe.

Next in importance to the bow came the sword, which is often spoken of as the samurai’s chief weapon, though there can be no doubt that during long ages it ranked after the bow. It was a single-edged weapon remarkable for its three exactly similar curves—edge, face-line and back; its almost imperceptibly convexed blade; its admirable tempering; its consummately skilled forging; its razor-like sharpness; its cunning distribution of weight, giving a maximum efficiency of stroke. The 10th century saw this weapon carried to perfection, and it has been inferred that only from that epoch did the samurai begin to esteem his sword as the greatest treasure he possessed, and to rely on it as his best instrument of attack and defence. But it is evident that the evolution of such a blade must have been due to an urgent, long-existing demand, and that the katana came as the sequel of innumerable efforts on the part of the sword-smith and generous encouragement on that of the soldier. Many pages of Japanese annals and household traditions are associated with its use. In every age numbers of men devoted their whole lives to acquiring novel skill in swordsmanship. Many of them invented systems of their own, differing from one another in some subtle details unknown to any save the master himself and his favourite pupils. Not merely the method of handling the weapon had to be studied. Associated with sword-play was an art variously known as shinobi, yawara, and jujutsu, names which imply the exertion of muscular force in such a manner as to produce a maximum of effect with a minimum of effort, by directing an adversary’s strength so as to become auxiliary to one’s own. It was an essential element of the expert’s art not only that he should be competent to defend himself with any object that happened to be within reach, but also that without an orthodox weapon he should be capable of inflicting fatal or disabling injury on an assailant. In the many records of great swordsmen instances are related of men seizing a piece of firewood, a brazier-iron, or a druggist’s pestle as a weapon of offence, while, on the other side, an umbrella, an iron fan or even a pot-lid served for protection. The samurai had to be prepared for every emergency. Were he caught weaponless by a number of assailants, his art of yawara was supposed to supply him with expedients for emerging unscathed. Nothing counted save the issue. The methods of gaining victory or the circumstances attending defeat were scarcely taken into consideration. The true samurai had to rise superior to all contingencies. Out of this perpetual effort on the part of hundreds of experts to discover and perfect novel developments of swordsmanship, there grew a habit which held its vogue down to modern times, namely, that when a man had mastered one style of sword-play in the school of a teacher, he set himself to study all others, and for that purpose undertook a tour throughout the provinces, challenging every expert, and, in the event of defeat, constituting himself the victor’s pupil. The sword exercised a potent influence on the life of the Japanese nation. The distinction of wearing it, the rights that it conferred, the deeds wrought with it, the fame attaching to special skill in its use, the superstitions connected with it, the incredible value set upon a fine blade, the honours bestowed on an expert sword-smith, the traditions that had grown up around celebrated weapons, the profound study needed to be a competent judge of a sword’s qualities—all these things conspired to give the katana an importance beyond the limits of ordinary comprehension. A samurai carried at least two swords, a long and a short. Their scabbards of lacquered wood were thrust into his girdle, not slung from it, being fastened in their place by cords of plaited silk. Sometimes he increased the number of swords to three, four or even five, before going into battle, and this array was supplemented by a dagger carried in the bosom. The short sword was not employed in the actual combat. Its use was to cut off an enemy’s head after overthrowing him, and it also served a defeated soldier in his last resort—suicide. In general the long sword did not measure more than 3 ft., including the hilt; but some were 5 ft. long, and some 7. Considering that the scabbard, being fastened to the girdle, had no play, the feat of drawing one of these very long swords demanded extraordinary aptitude.

Spear and glaive were also ancient Japanese weapons. The oldest form of spear was derived from China. Its handle measured about 6 ft. and its blade 8 in., and it had sickle-shaped horns at the junction of blade and hilt (somewhat resembling a European ranseur). This weapon served almost exclusively for guarding palisades and gates. In the 14th century a true lance came into use. Its length varied greatly, and it had a hog-backed blade tempered almost as finely as the sword itself. This, too, was a Chinese type, as was also the glaive. The glaive (naginata, long sword) was a scimitar-like blade, some 3 ft. in length, fixed on a slightly longer haft. Originally the warlike monks alone employed this weapon, but from the 12th century it found much favour among military men. Ultimately, however, its use may be said to have been limited to women and priests. The spear, however, formed a useful adjunct of the sword, for whereas the latter could not be used except by troops in very loose formation, the former served for close-order fighting.

Japanese armour (gusoku) may be broadly described as plate armour, but the essential difference between it and the European type was that, whereas the latter took its shape from the body, the former neither resembled nor was intended to resemble ordinary garments. Hence the only changes that occurred in Japanese armour from generation to generation had their origin in improved methods of construction. In general appearance it differed from the panoply of all other nations, so that, although to its essential parts we may apply with propriety the European terms—helmet, corselet, &c.—individually and in combination these parts were not at all like the originals of those names. Perhaps the easiest way of describing the difference is to say that whereas a European knight seemed to be clad in a suit of metal clothes, a Japanese samurai looked as if he wore protective curtains. The Japanese armour was, in fact, suspended from, rather than fitted to, the person. Only one of its elements found a counterpart in the European suit, namely, a tabard, which, in the case of men of rank, was made of the richest brocade. Iron and leather were the chief materials, and as the laminae were strung together with a vast number of coloured cords—silk or leather—an appearance of considerable brilliancy was produced. Ornamentation did not stop there. Plating and inlaying with gold and silver, and finely wrought decoration in chiselled, inlaid and repoussé work were freely applied. On the whole, however, despite the highly artistic character of its ornamentation, the loose, pendulous nature of Japanese armour detracted greatly from its workmanlike aspect, especially when the horo was added—a curious appendage in the shape of a curtain of fine transparent silk, which was either stretched in front between the horns of the helmet and the tip of the bow, or worn on the shoulders and back, the purpose in either case being to turn the point of an arrow. A true samurai observed strict rules of etiquette with regard even to the garments worn under his armour, and it was part of his soldierly capacity to be able to bear the great weight of the whole without loss of activity, a feat impossible to any untrained man of modern days. Common soldiers were generally content with a comparatively light helmet and a corselet.

The Japanese never had a war-horse worthy to be so called. The mis-shapen ponies which carried them to battle showed qualities of hardiness and endurance, but were so deficient in stature and massiveness that when mounted by a man in voluminous armour they looked painfully puny. Nothing is known of the early Japanese saddle, but at the beginning of historic times it approximated closely to the Chinese type. Subsequently a purely Japanese shape was designed. It consisted of a wooden frame so constructed that a padded numnah could be fastened to it. Galled backs or withers were unknown with such a saddle: it fitted any horse. The stirrup, originally a simple affair resembling that of China and Europe, afterwards took the form of a shoe-sole with upturned toe. Both stirrups and saddle-frame were often of beautiful workmanship, the former covered with rich gold lacquer, the latter inlaid with gold or silver. In the latter part of the military epoch chain-armour was adopted for the horse, and its head was protected by a monster-faced mask of iron.

Flags were used in battle as well as on ceremonial occasions. Some were monochrome, as the red and white flags of the Taira and the Minamoto clans in their celebrated struggle during the 12th century; and some were streamers emblazoned with figures of the sun, the moon, a dragon, a tiger and so forth, or with religious legends. Fans with iron ribs were carried by commanding officers, and signals to advance or retreat were given by beating drums and metal gongs and blowing conches. During the military epoch a campaign was opened or a contest preluded by a human sacrifice to the god of war, the victim at this rite of blood (chi-matsuri) being generally a prisoner or a condemned criminal. Although ambuscades and surprises played a large part in all strategy, pitched battles were the general rule, and it was essential that notice of an intention to attack should be given by discharging a singing arrow. Thereafter the assaulting army, taking the word from its commander, raised a shout of “Ei! Ei!” to which the other side replied, and the formalities having been thus satisfied, the fight commenced. In early medieval days tactics were of the crudest description. An army consisted of a congeries of little bands, each under the order of a chief who considered himself independent, and instead of subordinating his movements to a general plan, struck a blow wherever he pleased. From time immemorial a romantic value has attached in Japan to the first of anything: the first snow of winter; the first water drawn from the well on New Year’s Day; the first blossom of the spring; the first note of the nightingale. So in war the first to ride up to the foe or the wielder of the first spear was held in high honour, and a samurai strove for that distinction as his principal duty. It necessarily resulted, too, not only from the nature of the weapons employed, but also from the immense labour devoted by the true samurai to perfecting himself in their use, that displays of individual prowess were deemed the chief object in a battle. Some tactical formations borrowed from China were familiar in Japan, but their intelligent use and their modification to suit the circumstances of the time were inaugurated only by the great captains of the 15th and 16th centuries. Prior to that epoch a battle resembled a gigantic fencing match. Men fought as individuals, not as units of a tactical formation, and the engagement consisted of a number of personal duels, all in simultaneous progress. It was the samurai’s habit to proclaim his name and titles in the presence of the enemy, sometimes adding from his own record or his father’s any details that might tend to dispirit his hearers. Then some one advancing to cross weapons with him would perform the same ceremony of self-introduction, and if either found anything to upbraid in the other’s antecedents or family history, he did not fail to make loud reference to it, such a device being counted efficacious as a means of disturbing an adversary’s sang-froid, though the principle underlying the mutual introduction was courtesy. The duellists could reckon on finishing their fight undisturbed, but the victor frequently had to endure the combined assault of a number of the comrades or retainers of the vanquished. Of course a skilled swordsman did not necessarily seek a single combat; he was equally ready to ride into the thick of the fight without discrimination, and a group of common soldiers never hesitated to make a united attack upon a mounted officer if they found him disengaged. But the general feature of a battle was individual contests, and when the fighting had ceased, each samurai proceeded to the tent of the commanding officer and submitted for inspection the heads of those whom he had killed.

The disadvantage of such a mode of fighting was demonstrated for the first time when the Mongols invaded Japan in 1274. The invaders moved in phalanx, guarding themselves with pavises, and covering their advance with a host of archers shooting clouds of poisoned arrows. When a Japanese samurai advanced singly and challenged one of them to combat, they opened their ranks, enclosed the challenger and cut him to pieces. Many Japanese were thus slain, and it was not until they made a concerted movement of attack that they produced any effect upon the enemy. But although the advantage of massing strength seems to have been recognized, the Japanese themselves did not adopt the formation which the Mongols had shown to be so formidable. Individual prowess continued to be the prominent factor in battles down to a comparatively recent period. The great captains Takeda Shingen and Uyesugi Kenshin are supposed to have been Japan’s pioneer tacticians. They certainly appreciated the value of a formation in which the action of the individual should be subordinated to the unity of the whole. But when it is remembered that fire-arms had already been in the hands of the Japanese for several years, and that they had means of acquainting themselves with the tactics of Europe through their intercourse with the Dutch, it is remarkable that the changes attributed to Takeda and Uyesugi were not more drastic. Speaking broadly, what they did was to organize a column with the musqueteers and archers in front; the spearmen and swordsmen in the second line; the cavalry in the third line; the commanding officer in the rear, and the drums and standards in the centre. At close quarters the spear proved a highly effective weapon, and in the days of Hideyoshi (1536-1598) combined flank and front attacks by bands of spearmen became a favourite device. The importance of a strong reserve also received recognition, and in theory, at all events, a tolerably intelligent system of tactics was adopted. But not until the close of the 17th century did the doctrine of strictly disciplined action obtain practical vogue. Yamaga Soko is said to have been the successful inculcator of this principle, and from his time the most approved tactical formation was known as the Yamagaryū (Yamaga style), though it showed no other innovation than strict subordination of each unit to the general plan.

Although, tactically speaking, the samurai was everything and the system nothing before the second half of the 17th century, and although strategy was chiefly a matter of deception, surprises and ambushes, it must not be supposed that there were no classical principles. The student of European military history searches in vain for the rules and maxims of war so often invoked by glib critics, but the student of Japanese history is more successful. Here, as in virtually every field of things Japanese, retrospect discovers the ubiquitous Chinaman. The treatises of Sung and ’Ng (called in Japan Son and Go) Chinese generals of the third century after Christ, were the classics of Far-Eastern captains through all generations. (See The Book of War, tr. E. F. Calthrop, 1908.) Yoshitsunē, in the 12th century, deceived a loving girl to obtain a copy of Sung’s work which her father had in his possession, and Yamaga, in the 17th century, when he set himself to compose a book on tactics, derived his materials almost entirely from the two Chinese monographs. These treatises came into the hands of the Japanese in the 8th century, when the celebrated Kibi no Mabi went to study civilization in China, just as his successors of the 19th century went to study a new civilization in Europe and America. Thenceforth Son and Go became household words among Japanese soldiers. Their volumes were to the samurai what the Mahayana was to the Buddhist. They were believed to have collected whatever of good had preceded them, and to have forecast whatever of good the future might produce. The character of their strategic methods, somewhat analogous to those of 18th-century Europe, may be gathered from the following:—

“An army undertaking an offensive campaign must be twice as numerous as the enemy. A force investing a fortress should be numerically ten times the garrison. When the adversary holds high ground, turn his flank; do not deliver a frontal attack. When he has a mountain or a river behind him, cut his lines of communication. If he deliberately assumes a position from which victory is his only escape, hold him there, but do not molest him. If you can surround him, leave one route open for his escape, since desperate men fight fiercely. When you have to cross a river, put your advance-guard and your rear-guard at a distance from the banks. When the enemy has to cross a river, let him get well engaged in the operation before you strike at him. In a march, make celerity your first object. Pass no copse, enter no ravine, nor approach any thicket until your scouts have explored it fully.”

Such precepts are multiplied; but when these ancient authors discuss tactical formations, they do not seem to have contemplated anything like rapid, well-ordered changes of mobile, highly trained masses of men from one formation to another, or their quick transfer from point to point of a battlefield. The basis of their tactics is The Book of Changes. Here again is encountered the superstition that underlies nearly all Chinese and Japanese institutions: the superstition that took captive even the great mind of Confucius. The positive and the negative principles; the sympathetic and the antipathetic elements; cosmos growing out of chaos; chaos re-absorbing cosmos—on such fancies they founded their tactical system. The result was a phalanx of complicated organization, difficult to manœuvre and liable to be easily thrown into confusion. Yet when Yamaga in the 17th century interpreted these ancient Chinese treatises, he detected in them suggestions for a very shrewd use of the principle of échelon, and applied it to devise formations which combined much of the frontal expansion of the line with the solidity of the column. More than that cannot be said for Japanese tactical genius. The samurai was the best fighting unit in the Orient—probably one of the best fighting units the world ever produced. It was perhaps because of that excellence that his captains remained indifferent tacticians.

In estimating the military capacity of the Japanese, it is essential to know something of the ethical code of the samurai, the bushido (way of the warrior) as it was called. A typical example of the rules of conduct prescribed by feudal chieftains is furnished in the code of Kato Kiyomasa, a celebrated general of the 16th century:—

Regulations for Samurai of every Rank; the Highest and Lowest alike.

1. The routine of service must be strictly observed. From 6 a.m. military exercises shall be practised. Archery, gunnery and horsemanship must not be neglected. If any man shows exceptional proficiency he shall receive extra pay.

2. Those that desire recreation may engage in hawking, deer-hunting or wrestling.

3. With regard to dress, garments of cotton or pongee shall be worn. Any man incurring debts owing to extravagance of costume or living shall be considered a law-breaker. If, however, being zealous in the practice of military arts suitable to his rank, he desires to hire instructors, an allowance may be granted to him for that purpose.

4. The staple of diet shall be unhulled rice. At social entertainments one guest for one host is the proper limit. Only when men are assembled for military exercises shall many dine together.

5. It is the duty of every samurai to make himself acquainted with the principles of his craft. Extravagant displays of adornment are forbidden in battle.

6. Dancing or organizing dances is unlawful; it is likely to betray sword-carrying men into acts of violence. Whatever a man does should be done with his heart. Therefore for the soldier military amusements alone are suitable. The penalty for violating this provision is death by suicide.

7. Learning shall be encouraged. Military books must be read. The spirit of loyalty and filial piety must be educated before all things. Poem-composing pastimes are not to be engaged in by samurai. To be addicted to such amusements is to resemble a woman. A man born a samurai should live and die sword in hand. Unless he is thus trained in time of peace, he will be useless in the hour of stress. To be brave and warlike must be his invariable condition.

8. Whosoever finds these rules too severe shall be relieved from service. Should investigation show that any one is so unfortunate as to lack manly qualities, he shall be singled out and dismissed forthwith. The imperative character of these instructions must not be doubted.

The plainly paramount purpose of these rules was to draw a sharp line of demarcation between the samurai and the courtiers living in Kiōto. The dancing, the couplet-composing, the sumptuous living and the fine costumes of the officials frequenting the imperial capital were strictly interdicted by the feudatories. Frugality, fealty and filial piety—these may be called the fundamental virtues of the samurai. Owing to the circumstances out of which his caste had grown, he regarded all bread-winning pursuits with contempt, and despised money. To be swayed in the smallest degree by mercenary motives was despicable in his eyes. Essentially a stoic, he made self-control the ideal of his existence, and practised the courageous endurance of suffering so thoroughly that he could without hesitation inflict on his own body pain of the most horrible description. Nor can the courage of the samurai justly be ascribed to bluntness of moral sensibility resulting from semi-savage conditions of life. From the 8th century onwards the current of existence in Japan set with general steadiness in the direction of artistic refinement and voluptuous luxury, amidst which men could scarcely fail to acquire habits and tastes inconsistent with acts of high courage and great endurance. The samurai’s mood was not a product of semi-barbarism, but rather a protest against emasculating civilization. He schooled himself to regard death by his own hand as a normal eventuality. The story of other nations shows epochs when death was welcomed as a relief and deliberately invited as a refuge from the mere weariness of living. But wherever there has been liberty to choose, and leisure to employ, a painless mode of exit from the world, men have invariably selected it. The samurai, however, adopted in harakiri (disembowelment) a mode of suicide so painful and so shocking that to school the mind to regard it with indifference and perform it without flinching was a feat not easy to conceive. Assistance was often rendered by a friend who stood ready to decapitate the victim immediately after the stomach had been gashed; but there were innumerable examples of men who consummated the tragedy without aid, especially when the sacrifice of life was by way of protest against the excesses of a feudal chief or the crimes of a ruler, or when some motive for secrecy existed. It must be observed that the suicide of the samurai was never inspired by any doctrine like that of Hegesias. Death did not present itself to him as a legitimate means of escaping from the cares and disappointments of life. Self-destruction had only one consolatory aspect, that it was the soldier’s privilege to expiate a crime with his own sword, not under the hand of the executioner. It rested with his feudal chief to determine his guilt, and his peremptory duty was never to question the justice of an order to commit suicide, but to obey without murmur or protest. For the rest, the general motives for suicide were to escape falling into the hands of a victorious enemy, to remonstrate against some official abuse which no ordinary complaint could reach, or, by means of a dying protest, to turn a liege lord from pursuing courses injurious to his reputation and his fortune. This last was the noblest and by no means the most infrequent reason for suicide. Scores of examples are recorded of men who, with everything to make existence desirable, deliberately laid down their lives at the prompting of loyalty. Thus the samurai rose to a remarkable height of moral nobility. He had no assurance that his death might not be wholly fruitless, as indeed it often proved. If the sacrifice achieved its purpose, if it turned a liege lord from evil courses, the samurai could hope that his memory would be honoured. But if the lord resented such a violent and conspicuous mode of reproving his excesses, then the faithful vassal’s retribution would be an execrated memory and, perhaps, suffering for his family and relatives. Yet the deed was performed again and again. It remains to be noted that the samurai entertained a high respect for the obligations of truth; “A bushi has no second word,” was one of his favourite mottoes. However, a reservation is necessary here. The samurai’s doctrine was not truth for truth’s sake, but truth for the sake of the spirit of uncompromising manliness on which he based all his code of morality. A pledge or a promise must never be broken, but the duty of veracity did not override the interests or the welfare of others. Generosity to a defeated foe was also one of the tenets of the samurai’s ethics. History contains many instances of the exercise of that quality.

Something more, however, than a profound conception of duty was needed to nerve the samurai for sacrifices such as he seems to have been always ready to make. It is true that Japanese parents of the military class took pains to familiarize their children of both sexes from very tender years with the idea of self-destruction at any time. But superadded to the force of education and the incentive of tradition there was a transcendental influence. Buddhism supplied it. The tenets of that creed divided themselves, broadly speaking, into two doctrines, salvation by faith and salvation by works, and the chief exponent of the latter principle is the sect which prescribes meditation as the vehicle of enlightenment. Whatever be the mental processes induced by this rite, those who have practised it insist that it leads finally to a state of absorption, in which the mind is flooded by an illumination revealing the universe in a new aspect, absolutely free from all traces of passion, interest or affection, and showing, written across everything in flaming letters, the truth that for him who has found Buddha there is neither birth nor death, growth nor decay. Lifted high above his surroundings, he is prepared to meet every fate with indifference. The attainment of that state seems to have been a fact in the case both of the samurai of the military epoch and of the Japanese soldier to-day.

The policy of seclusion adopted by the Tokugawa administration after the Shimabara insurrection included an order that no samurai should acquire foreign learning. Nevertheless some knowledge could not fail to filter in through the Dutch factory at Deshima, and thus, a few years before the advent of the American ships, Takashima Shūhan, governor of Nagasaki, becoming persuaded of the fate his country must invite if she remained oblivious of the world’s progress, memorialized the Yedo government in the sense that, unless Japan improved her weapons of war and reformed her military system, she could not escape humiliation such as had just overtaken China. He obtained small arms and field-guns of modern type from Holland, and, repairing to Yedo with a company of men trained according to the new tactics, he offered an object lesson for the consideration of the conservative officials. They answered by throwing him into prison. But Egawa, one of his retainers, proved a still more zealous reformer, and his foresight being vindicated by the appearance of the American war-vessels in 1853, he won the government’s confidence and was entrusted with the work of planning and building forts at Shinagawa and Shimoda. At Egawa’s instance rifles and cannon were imported largely from Europe, and their manufacture was commenced in Japan, a powder-mill also being established with machinery obtained from Holland. Finally, in 1862, the shōgun’s government adopted the military system of the West, and organized three divisions of all arms, with a total strength of 13,600 officers and men. Disbanded at the fall of the shōgunate in 1867, this force nevertheless served as a model for a similar organization under the imperial government, and in the meanwhile the principal fiefs had not been idle, some—as Satsuma—adopting English tactics, others following France or Germany, and a few choosing Dutch. There appeared upon the stage at this juncture a great figure in the person of Omura Masujiro, a samurai of the Chōshū clan. He established Japan’s first military school at Kiōto in 1868; he attempted to substitute for the hereditary soldier conscripts taken from all classes of the people, and he conceived the plan of dividing the whole empire into six military districts. An assassin’s dagger removed him on the threshold of these great reforms, but his statue now stands in Tōkyō and his name is spoken with reverence by all his countrymen. In 1870 Yamagata Aritomo (afterwards Field-Marshal Prince Yamagata) and Saigo Tsugumichi (afterwards Field-Marshal Marquis Saigo) returned from a tour of military inspection in Europe, and in 1872 they organized a corps of Imperial guards, taken from the three clans which had been conspicuous in the work of restoring the administrative power to the sovereign, namely, the clans of Satsuma, Chōshū and Tosa. They also established garrisons in Tōkyō, Sendai, Osaka and Kumamoto, thus placing the military authority in the hands of the central government. Reforms followed quickly. In 1872, the hyōbushō, an office which controlled all matters relating to war, was replaced by two departments, one of war and one of the navy, and, in 1873, an imperial decree substituted universal conscription for the system of hereditary militarism. Many persons viewed this experiment with deep misgiving. They feared that it would not only alienate the samurai, but also entrust the duty of defending the country to men unfitted by tradition and custom for such a task, namely, the farmers, artisans and tradespeople, who, after centuries of exclusion from the military pale, might be expected to have lost all martial spirit. The government, however, was not deterred by these apprehensions. It argued that since the distinction of samurai and commoner had not originally existed, and since the former was a product simply of accidental conditions, there was no valid reason to doubt the military capacity of the people at large. The justice of this reasoning was put to a conclusive test a few years later. Originally the period of service with the colours was fixed at 3 years, that of service with the first and second reserves being 2 years each. One of the serious difficulties encountered at the outset was that samurai conscripts were too proud to stand in the ranks with common rustics or artisans, and above all to obey the commands of plebeian officers. But patriotism soon overcame this obstacle. The whole country—with the exception of the northern island, Yezo—was parcelled out into six military districts (headquarters Tōkyō, Osaka, Nagoya, Sendai, Hiroshima and Kumamoto) each furnishing a division of all arms and services. There was also from 1876 a guards division in Tōkyō. The total strength on a peace footing was 31,680 of all arms, and on a war footing, 46,350. The defence of Yezo was entrusted to a colonial militia. It may well be supposed that to find competent officers for this army greatly perplexed its organizers. The military school—now in Tōkyō but originally founded by Omura in Kiōto—had to turn out graduates at high pressure, and private soldiers who showed any special aptitude were rapidly promoted to positions of command. French military instructors were engaged, and the work of translating manuals was carried out with all celerity. In 1877, this new army of conscripts had to endure a crucial test: it had to take the field against the Satsuma samurai, the very flower of their class, who in that year openly rebelled against the Tōkyō government. The campaign lasted eight months; as there had not yet been time to form the reserves, the Imperial forces were soon seriously reduced in number by casualties in the field and by disease, the latter claiming many victims owing to defective commissariat. It thus became necessary to have recourse to volunteers, but as these were for the most part samurai, the expectation was that their hereditary instinct of fighting would compensate for lack of training. That expectation was not fulfilled. Serving side by side in the field, the samurai volunteer and the heimin regular were found to differ by precisely the degree of their respective training. The fact was thus finally established that the fighting qualities of the farmer and artisan reached as high a standard as those of the bushi.

Thenceforth the story of the Japanese army is one of steady progress and development. In 1878, the military duties of the empire were divided among three offices: namely, the army department, the general staff and the inspection department, while the six divisions of troops were organized into three army corps.

In 1879, the total period of colour and reserve service became 10 years. In 1883 the period was extended to 12 years, the list of exemptions was abbreviated, and above all substitution was no longer allowed. Great care was devoted to the training of officers; promotion went by merit, and at least ten of the most promising officers were sent abroad every year to study. A comprehensive system of education for the rank and file was organized. Great difficulty was experienced in procuring horses suitable for cavalry, and indeed the Japanese army long remained weak in this arm. In 1886, the whole littoral of the empire was divided into five districts, each with its admiralty and its naval port, and the army being made responsible for coast defence, a battery construction corps was formed. Moreover, an exhaustive scheme was elaborated to secure full co-operation between the army and navy. In 1888 the seven divisions of the army first found themselves prepared to take the field, and, in 1893, a revised system of mobilization was sanctioned, to be put into operation the following year, for the Chino-Japanese War (q.v.). At this period the division, mobilized for service in the field, consisted of 12 battalions of infantry, 3 troops of cavalry, 4 batteries of field and 2 of mountain artillery, 2 companies of sappers and train, totalling 18,492 of all arms with 5633 horses. The guards had only 8 battalions and 4 batteries (field). The field army aggregated over 120,000, with 168 field and 72 mountain guns, and the total of all forces, field, garrison and dépôt, was 220,580 of all arms, with 47,220 horses and 294 guns. Owing, however, to various modifications necessitated by circumstances, the numbers actually on duty were over 240,000, with 6495 non-combatant employees and about 100,000 coolies who acted as carriers. The infantry were armed with the Murata single-loader rifle, but the field artillery was inferior, and the only two divisions equipped with magazine rifles and smokeless powder never came into action. The experiences gained in this war bore large fruit. The total term of service with the colours and the reserves was slightly increased; the colonial militia of Yezo (Hokkaidō) was organized as a seventh line division; 5 new divisions were added, bringing the whole number of divisions to 13 (including the guards); a mixed brigade was stationed in Formosa (then newly added to Japan’s dominions); a high military council composed of field-marshals was created; the cavalry was brigaded; the garrison artillery was increased; strenuous efforts were made to improve the education of officers and men; and lastly, sanitary arrangements underwent much modification. An arsenal had been established in Tōkyō, in 1868, for the manufacture of small arms and small-arm ammunition; this was followed by an arsenal in Osaka for the manufacture of guns and gun-ammunition; four powder factories were opened, and in later years big-gun factories at Kure and Mororan. Japan was able to make 12-inch guns in 1902, and her capacity for this kind of work was in 1909 second to none. She has her own patterns of rifle and field gun, so that she is independent of foreign aid so far as armaments are concerned. In 1900, she sent a force to North China to assist in the campaign for the relief of the foreign legations in Peking, and on that occasion her troops were able to observe at first hand the qualities and methods of European soldiers. In 1904 took place the great war with Russia (see Russo-Japanese War). After the war important changes were made in the direction of augmenting and improving the armed forces. The number of divisions was increased to 19 (including the guards), of which one division is for service in Korea and one for service in Manchuria. Various technical corps were organized, as well as horse artillery, heavy field artillery and machine-gun units. The field-gun was replaced by a quick-firer manufactured at Osaka, and much attention was given to the question of remounts—for, both in the war with China and in that with Russia, the horsing of the cavalry had been poor. Perhaps the most far-reaching change in all armies of late years is the shortening of the term of service with the colours to 2 years for the infantry, 3 years remaining the rule for other arms. This was adopted by Japan after the war, the infantry period of service with the reserves being extended to 141⁄3 years, and of course has the effect of greatly augmenting the potential war strength. As to this, figures are kept secret, nor can any accurate approximation be attempted without danger of error. Rough estimates of Japan’s war strength have, however, been made, giving 550,000 as the war strength of the first line army, plus 34,000 for garrisons overseas and 150,000 special reserves (hojū); 370,000 second line or kōbi, and 110,000 for the fully trained portion of the territorial forces, or Kokumin-hei. All these branches can further draw upon half-trained elements to the number of about 800,000 to replace losses. Japan’s available strength in the last resort for home defence was recently (1909) stated by the Russian Novoye Vremya at 3,000,000. In 20 years, when the present system has produced its full effect, the first line should be 740,000 strong, the second line 780,000, and the third line about 3,850,000 (3,000,000 untrained and 850,000 partly trained). Details can be found in Journal of the R. United Service Institution, Dec. 1909-Jan. 1910.

At 20 years of age every Japanese subject, of whatever status, becomes liable for military service. But the difficulty of making service universal in the case of a growing population is felt here as in Europe, and practically the system has elements of the old-fashioned conscription. The minimum height is 5.2 ft. (artillery and engineers, 5.4 ft.). There are four principal kinds of service, namely, service with the colours (genyeki), for two years; service with the first reserves (yobi), for 71⁄3 years; service with the second reserves (kōbi), for 7 years; and service with the territorial troops (ko kumin-hei) up to the age of 40. Special reserve (hojū) takes up men who, though liable for conscription and medically qualified, have escaped the lot for service with the colours. It consists of two classes, one of men remaining in the category of hojū for 71⁄3 years, the other for 11⁄3 year, before passing into the territorial army. Their purpose is similar to that of special or ersatz reserves elsewhere. The first class receives the usual short initial training. Men of the second class, in ordinary circumstances, pass, after their 11⁄3 year’s inability, to the territorial army untrained. As for the first and second general reserves (yobi and kōbi), each is called out twice during its full term for short “refresher” courses. After reaching the territorial army a man is relieved from all further training. The total number of youths eligible for conscription each year is about 435,000, but the annual contingent for full service is not much more than 100,000. Conscripts in the active army may be discharged before the expiration of two years if their conduct and aptitude are exceptional.

A youth is exempted if it be clearly established that his family is dependent upon his earnings. Except for permanent deformities men are put back for one year before being finally rejected on medical grounds. Men who have been convicted of crime are disqualified, but those who have been temporarily deprived of civil rights must present themselves for conscription at the termination of their sentence. Educated men may enrol themselves as one-year volunteers instead of drawing lots, this privilege of entry enduring up to the age of 28, after which, service for the full term without drawing lots is imposed. Residence in a foreign country secures exemption up to the age of 32—provided that official permission to go abroad has been obtained. A man returning after the age of 32 is drafted into the territorial army, but if he returns before that age he must volunteer to receive training, otherwise he is taken without lot for service with the colours. The system of volunteering is largely resorted to by persons of the better classes. Any youth who possesses certain educational qualifications is entitled to volunteer for training. If accepted after medical inspection, he serves with the colours for one year, during three months of which time he must live in barracks—unless a special permit be granted by his commanding officer. A volunteer has to contribute to his maintenance and equipment, although youths who cannot afford the full expense, if otherwise qualified, are assisted by the state. At the conclusion of a year’s training the volunteer is drafted into the first reserve for 6¼ years, and then into the second reserve for 5 years, so that his total period (12¼ years) of service before passing into the territorial army is the same as that of an ordinary conscript. The main purpose of the one-year voluntariat, as in Germany, is to provide officers for the reserves to territorial troops. Qualified teachers in the public service are only liable to a very short initial training, after which they pass at once into the territorial army. But if a teacher abandons that calling before the age of 28, he becomes liable, without lot, to two years with the colours, unless he adopts the alternative of volunteering.