I. Shintoism.

When, in the sixth century of the Christian era, Buddhism was introduced into Japan from China, by way of Korea, the need was felt of some term by which the ancient indigenous religion of the country might be distinguished from the new importation. The term thus adopted was Shinto, or Kami-no-michi; the former being a Chinese word, and the latter its Japanese equivalent. The meaning of either, in English, is the “Way of the Genii, or Spirits.”[3] It will, accordingly, be seen that the word “Shinto” has only been in use for some thirteen centuries, while the creed it designates claims to trace its origin from the remotest antiquity. Indeed, the investigation of Shintoism takes us back not merely to the earliest annals of Japanese history, but to the fabulous legends of a mythological period. The history of Japan is commonly [pg 019] reckoned to commence with the accession of the Emperor Jimmu Tenno, the date of which is given as February 11, 660 b.c.; and when, in 1889, the new Constitution was promulgated, the anniversary of this event was the day selected—the idea evidently being to confirm the popular belief in the continuity of the country's history. This Jimmu Tenno—accounted by the Japanese their first human sovereign—is supposed to have been descended from Ama-terasu, the sun-goddess, who was born from the left eye of Izanagi, the creator of Japan; and this it is that accounts for the semi-deification in which the Emperors of Japan have ever been held. It is, then, the countless heroes and demi-gods of the mythological age referred to—the children of Izanagi reigning over Japan, generation after generation, for many thousands of years—that are the chief objects of Shinto veneration; for while it is usual to speak of Shintoism as being a combination of ancestor-worship and nature-worship, it would seem that the latter of these elements was largely due to the contact of Japan with the Taouism of China, and with metaphysical Buddhism. Thus the essential principle of Shintoism, it will be seen, is closely akin to that filial piety, which forms so conspicuous a feature in the religious, political, and social life of China, and which—deserving as it is, in many ways, of respect and admiration—presents, when carried [pg 020] to excess, so vast a hindrance to development and progress.

“Shintoism,” in the words of Diayoro Goh, Chancellor of the Japanese Consulate General in London, “originated in the worship offered by a barbarous people to the mythological persons of its own invention.” To speak accurately, it is not so much a religion as patriotism exalted to the rank of a creed. It is a veneration of the country's heroes and benefactors of every age, legendary and historical, ancient and more recent; the spirits of these being appealed to for protection. Interwoven with this, its fundamental characteristic, and to a great extent obscuring it, is a worship of the personified forces of nature; expressing itself often in the most abject superstition, and, until lately, also in that grosser symbolism with which the religion of Ancient Egypt abounded. This latter feature was widely prevalent in Japan at the time that the country was first opened to foreigners; but after the Revolution in 1868, it was everywhere suppressed. It would appear that the personal cleanliness for which the Japanese, as a nation, are celebrated, had its origin in the idea of the purification of the body symbolizing the cleansing of the soul; and in a vague and hazy sort of way, Shintoism would seem to recognize a future state of bliss or misery, for which the present life is a period of probation. Practically, however, [pg 021] this is the only world with which Shintoism concerns itself; nor does it inculcate any laws of morality or conduct, conscience and the heart being accounted sufficient guides. It provides neither public worship, nor sermons; while its application is limited to subjects of the Mikado. “It is the least exacting of all religions.” When this is once understood, there ceases to be anything surprising in the fact of two religions—of which Shintoism was one, and the other a creed so accommodating as Buddhism—running, side by side, for centuries in the same country, and being professed simultaneously by the same people, until the two were so closely interwoven that it became scarcely possible to distinguish their respective elements. In the eighteenth century an attempt was made to restore Shintoism to its primitive simplicity, and to mould it into a philosophical system which might minister to the higher aspirations of humanity. But the movement was a failure, and the Ryobu-Shinto, or “double religion,”—the combination, that is to say, of Shintoism and Buddhism—continued as before. It was only so lately as the year 1868 that any important change took place in the religious history of Japan. In that year, Shintoism—for reasons wholly political—was adopted as the State, or “established” religion; Buddhism having always been the religion favoured by the Shogunate, and the ancient nobility whom [pg 022] the Shogun represented. Upon this, every temple was required to declare itself either Shinto or Buddhist, and to remove the emblems and ornaments peculiar to the discarded cult, whichever that might be. That no little excitement and dispute followed upon this proclamation, will be readily understood; especially when we bear in mind that, for several hundred years, Buddhist and Shinto clergy had taken their turns of officiating in the same buildings and at the same altars.[4] A grant of some £60,000 a year was made by the Government for the maintenance of the Shinto temples and shrines, which are said to number in all about 98,000, and to be dedicated to no less than 3,700 different Genii, or Kami. Already, however, Shintoism has lost the greater part of the importance into which it was brought at the time of the Revolution; and, apart from the fact that it is supported out of the imperial revenues, and that the presence of its principal officials is required at certain of the state functions, its general position has in no way improved. The people still practise [pg 023] the observances of both religions alike; the only difference being that, to effect this, they have now to visit two temples instead of one. A new-born child, for instance, is taken by its parents to both Shinto and Buddhist temples, for the purpose of solemn dedication. Another of the changes brought about is that, instead of all funerals being conducted by Buddhist priests, as was the case until 1868, the dead are now buried by either Shinto or Buddhist clergy, as the relatives may prefer. Of the many signs which indicate that Shintoism has well nigh run its course, not the least remarkable was the announcement made last year (1892) by the Government itself, to the effect that its rites were to be regarded as simply traditional and commemorative, and devoid of any real religious significance. The relief thus afforded to the minds and consciences of Christians in Japan was, as might be supposed, very great.

Of the various sects the Zhikko,—founded 1541 a.d.,—is, perhaps, the most influential. This sect—as indeed do Shintoists generally—recognizes one eternal absolute Deity, a being of infinite benevolence; and here—as in other heathen religions—we find vague references to a Trinity engaged in the work of Creation.

Group of Shinto Priests With Torii.

Despite the dissociation of the two religions, many of the Shinto temples still retain traces of the Buddhist influence. Of Shintoism proper the [pg 024] prevailing characteristic is a marked simplicity, which, however, is often found combined with great artistic beauty. Sometimes the shrine consists only of a rude altar, situated amid a grove of trees; but, even in the case of large temples with a complete group of buildings, the architecture is extremely plain, the material employed being unornamented white wood with a thatch of chamaecyparis. The entrance to the temple grounds is always through gateways, called Torii; these are made sometimes of stone, but more properly of wood, and consist of two unpainted tree-trunks, with another on the top and a horizontal beam beneath. Near the entrance are commonly found stone figures of dogs or lions, which are supposed to act as guardians. The principal shrine, or Honsha, is situated at the further end of the sacred enclosure, and is divided by a railing into an ante-room and an inner sanctuary. Within the sanctuary an altar is erected, on which, however, no images or adornments are seen, but simply offerings of rice, fruit, wine, &c. Above the altar, in a conspicuous position, a large mirror is generally placed; and in a box beneath are usually kept a sword, and a stone. These three,—the mirror, the sword, and the stone,—constitute the Japanese regalia, and they are all connected with the early legends. One of the traditions respecting the sacred mirror deserves quotation.

“When the time was come that Izanagi and his consort should return together to the celestial regions, he called his children together, bidding them dry their tears, and listen attentively to his last wishes. He then committed to them a disc of polished silver, bidding them each morning place themselves on their knees before it, and there see reflected on their countenances the impress of any evil passions deliberately indulged; and again each night carefully to examine themselves, that their last thoughts might be after the happiness of that higher world whither their parents had preceded them.” The legend goes on to relate with what faithfulness “the children of Izanagi, and afterwards their descendants, carried out these injunctions; erecting an altar of wood to receive the sacred mirror, and placing upon it vases and flowers,—and how, as a reward for their obedience and devotion, they became in their turn, the spirits of good, the undying Kami.”[5]

Another of the most common of the Shinto emblems is a slim wand of unpainted wood, called Gohei, to which strips of white paper—originally they were of cloth—are attached. These are thought to attract the deities, and are held in great veneration.

Leaving the principal shrine, and proceeding to make the tour of the grounds, the visitor comes, in [pg 026] turn, to the buildings where the business arrangements of the temple are transacted, and where the priests, in some cases, reside; to smaller shrines and oratories; to cisterns for the purpose of ceremonial ablution, &c. Sometimes, also, at the more important temples is found a long covered platform, called the Kagura-do, where, on festivals and special occasions, a number of girls—those I saw at Nara were still quite children—perform the Kagura, or sacred dance. The dancing is in honour of the divinity to whom the temple is dedicated; and commemorates a supposed incident of the mythological period. In the grounds of Shinto and Buddhist temples alike are frequently found numerous stone-lanterns, erected by way of votive offerings, and lighted on any great occasions.

It has already been remarked that Shintoism has nothing corresponding to our public worship; but every morning and evening the priests—whose office seems held in no particular sanctity, and who are at liberty, at any time, to adopt a more secular calling—perform a service before the altar, vested in white dresses, somewhat resembling albs and confined at the waist by a girdle. The service consists of the presentation of offerings and of the recital of various invocations, chiefly laudatory. The devotions of the people are remarkable for their brevity and simplicity. The worshipper, on arriving at the shrine, rings a bell, or sounds [pg 027] a gong, to engage the attention of the deity he desires to invoke; throws a coin of the smallest possible value on to the matting within the sanctuary rails; makes one or two prostrations; and then, clapping his hands, to intimate to his patron that his business with him is over, retires—it not being considered necessary to give to the petition any verbal expression. The making of pilgrimages, however, still occupies a prominent place in the Shinto system, and though of late years the number of pilgrims has considerably decreased, long journeys are still undertaken to the great temple of the sun-goddess at Ise—the “Mecca of Japan,”—and other celebrated shrines. The chief object of the pilgrimage is the purchase of O-harai, or sacred charms, which can only be obtained on the spot. These, when brought home, are placed on the Kamidana, or god-shelf—a miniature temple of wood, found in every Shinto house, to which are attached the names of various patron deities, and the monumental tablets of the family. His purchase of the O-harai completed, the pilgrim betakes himself to the enjoyment of the various shows and other amusements provided for him in the neighbourhood of the temple.

To conclude this brief sketch of Shintoism. Such influence as the cult still possesses may be attributed to the superstition of the poor and illiterate; and to a reluctance, on the part of the [pg 028] more educated, to break with so venerable a past. The latter, however, though they continue to conform to them, do not regard its observances seriously; while the importance attached to them by the State is, as we have seen, wholly political. In the words of Diayoro Goh, spoken in the course of a lecture delivered in London two or three years since: “Shintoism, being so restricted in its sphere, offers little obstacle to the introduction of another religion,”—provided, as he added, that the veneration of the Mikado, which has always formed the fundamental feature of Japanese government, is not interfered with. The truth of this statement has already been abundantly exemplified in the position which Buddhism for so many centuries held in the religious life of Japan. In the same way, when, three hundred years ago, Christianity was introduced into the country by the Portuguese, it was largely owing to the attitude which some of the missionaries adopted towards these national rites, that the complications arose, which eventually led to the expulsion of foreigners, and the persecution of Christians. And surely, when we think of it, it is not strange that an intense jealousy should be exhibited on behalf of observances and ceremonies, traceable back to such remote antiquity, and so intimately bound up with the whole political and social life of the nation. It is, indeed, highly probable that, in the great changes Japan is undergoing, [pg 029] she will find other methods of cherishing the continuity of her, in many ways, illustrious past. But meanwhile, Christians in Japan may rejoice that they are permitted, with a quiet conscience, to manifest a respectful regard for a system that is by no means destitute of praiseworthy features.