It will be seen from this letter that the grievance of the Ministers who resigned—with the exception of the elder Saigō—related to the question not of war with Korea, but of the establishment of some form of representative institutions, as foreshadowed in the Imperial Oath. Their quarrel with the Government was based on the view that the latter had broken its promise to take steps in the desired direction.

The Memorial was a repetition of this charge in very prolix form. It dwelt on the right of the people to a share in the direction of public affairs, and on the urgency of establishing representative institutions.

The absence of Saigō’s signature both from the letter and Memorial is not surprising. He had no sympathy with popular reforms of Western origin. His association in the act of resignation with men whose political views were so different from his own, and with whom he could have little in common except dissatisfaction with the conduct of public affairs, simply indicates the existence of a general spirit of unrest.

The answer of the Government to the memorialists was not unfavourable. They were told that the principle of an assembly to be chosen by the people was an excellent one. The question of the establishment of local assemblies must, however, take precedence, and this matter was already occupying the Government’s attention.

When discussing in a previous chapter the effects of the abolition of feudalism it was pointed out what great hardship this measure inflicted on the military class. That the ex-samurai, or shizoku, to give them their new name, should as a class be dissatisfied with the sudden change in their fortunes was not surprising. It would have been strange if they had not resented the loss of their many privileges: the superior social status they enjoyed, their permanent incomes hereditary in the family; a house and garden free of rent; exemption from all taxation; and the advantage, appreciated by so poor a class, of being able to travel at cheaper rates than other people. In the course of the inevitable reaction which followed on the accomplishment of the common object which had united the Western clans, and which, it should not be forgotten, was the work of the military class, there was ample occasion for the shizoku to realize all that they had lost by the disappearance of feudalism. The haste, too, with which the new Government had embarked in their course of reform, copied from abroad, gave umbrage to the conservatives in that class who still outnumbered those who were in favour of progress. Nor was the engagement of foreigners, whose services were indispensable in the execution of these reforms, less unwelcome. The foreign experts needed were drawn from various countries. The assistance of France was invoked for the army, and for legal reforms; that of Germany for the army and for medical science; that of Great Britain for the navy, for railway construction, telegraphs and lighthouses, as well as for technical instruction in engineering; Americans were called in to help in the matter of education and in agriculture; while experts from Italy and Holland acted as advisers on questions concerning silk culture and embankments.

Speaking of the craze for imitating the West which prevailed at this period, the History of Japan, compiled under official direction for the Chicago Exposition of 1893, says: “During the early years of the Meiji era any knowledge, however slight, of Western science was regarded as a qualification for official employment. Students who had shown themselves intelligent were sent to Europe and America to inspect and report on the conditions existing there, and, as each of these travellers found something new to endorse and import, the mania for Occidental innovations constantly increased. To preserve or revere old customs and fashions was regarded with contempt, and so far did the fancy run that some gravely entertained the project of abolishing the Japanese language, and substituting English for it.”

Captain Brinkley, a friendly critic, in his History of Japan confirms this statement. “In short,” he says, “the Japanese undertook in the most lighthearted manner possible to dress themselves in clothes such as they had never worn before, and which had been made to fit other people. The spectacle looked strange enough to justify the apprehensions of foreign critics who asked whether it was possible that so many novelties should be successfully assimilated, or that a nation should adapt itself to systems planned by a motley band of aliens who knew nothing of its characters or customs.”

Nevertheless, in many respects the inner life of the people remained unaffected by the Western innovations so eagerly adopted. The nation was not called upon to make such sweeping sacrifices as appearances suggested. But the dissatisfied conservative of the former military class who watched the rapid progress of reform in the hands of enthusiastic reformers was not likely to make any fine discriminations; nor was it surprising if the zeal he witnessed, and perhaps also the employment of unwelcome foreigners at what to him seemed extravagant salaries, served to increase his dissatisfaction with the new order of things.

In January, 1874, a few days after the presentation of the Memorial above mentioned, the smouldering discontent burst into flame. Itō Shimpei, one of the memorialists, who had retired to Saga, the chief town in his native province of Hizen, collected there a considerable body of disaffected shizoku and made a successful raid on the prefectural offices. The Government quickly despatched troops against the rebels. Driven out of the town, they fled to Satsuma, hoping to receive assistance from Saigō. No aid, however, was forthcoming from this quarter, and Itō and the other insurgent leaders were arrested and executed.

The Hizen insurrection, and the existence of much discontent throughout the country, which showed itself, among other incidents, in the attempted assassination of Iwakura, suggested the advisability of finding some outlet for the mischievous energies of the disbanded samurai, and of diverting their attention from home politics. At this moment there arose an unlooked-for difficulty in connection with Loochoo, which furnished the desired opportunity.