The Gist of Japan: The Islands, Their People, and Missions

by R. B. Peery

In the year 1701 the lord of Ako, Asano by name, visited Yedo to pay his respects to the shogun. While there the shogun appointed him to receive and entertain an envoy from the mikado. Now, the reception of an envoy from the imperial court was one of the greatest state ceremonies of the day, and as Asano knew little of ceremonies and etiquette, he asked the advice of another nobleman, named Kira, who was expert in such matters. This man, who seems to have been of a very mean disposition, grudgingly gave the information desired, and then asked a fee for the same. Asano refused to give the fee, and Kira, becoming angry, twitted and jeered at him, calling him a country lout, unworthy the name of daimio. Asano endured the insults patiently until Kira peremptorily ordered him to stoop down and fasten his foot-gear for him,—a most menial service,—when he drew his sword and gave the offender a deep cut across the face. This quarrel took place in the precincts of the palace, and instantly the whole court was in an uproar. To degrade the sacred place was an insult punishable with death and the confiscation of all property; and Asano was condemned to take his own life by hara-kiri that same evening, his estates were confiscated, his family declared extinct, and his clan disbanded. Henceforth his retainers became ronins ("wandering men"), with no country and no lord. According to the ethics of their country, it was their bounden duty to avenge the death of their lord, and we shall see how relentlessly they followed their purpose until it was accomplished.

The senior retainer of the dead Asano, Oishu Kuranosuke, together with forty-six others of his most trusty fellow-lieges, took counsel as to how they might avenge their lord. They all were willing to lay down their lives in the attempt, but even then the task was difficult, because of the vigilance of the government. For such vengeance was rigidly prohibited by law, although as rigidly required by custom. Notwithstanding the fact that all who slew an enemy for vengeance were punished by death, not to take such vengeance never entered the mind of any chivalrous Japanese. After much planning the forty-seven ronins decided that to avoid the suspicions of the government it would be necessary for them to separate and for the time conceal their purpose. So they separated, settling in different cities, and taking up various occupations. Many of them became carpenters, smiths, and merchants, and in these capacities gained access to Kira's house and learned all about its interior arrangements. The leader of this faithful band, Oishu, went to Kyoto and plunged into a life of drunkenness and debauchery. He even put away his wife and children, and led the most dissolute life possible, simply to throw off the suspicions of the authorities. All of the ronins were closely watched by spies, who secretly reported their conduct to Kira. But by these devices they finally lulled all suspicion, and the vigilance ceased. Then the day long waited for had come. Suddenly, on the night of January 30, 1703, two years after the death of their lord, in the midst of a violent snowstorm, these forty-seven faithful men attacked Kira's castle, forced the gate, and slew all the retainers. Kira, who was a coward at heart, concealed himself in an outhouse. The ronins found him there, drew him forth, and requested him to kill himself by hara-kiri, as was the privilege of a man of his rank. But he refused out of fear, and the retainers of Asano were forced to kill him as they would have killed a common coolie. Thus did they accomplish their purpose and fulfil the high duty of loyalty to their dead lord, after two years of waiting, most careful planning, and ceaseless vigilance.

By the time their purpose was accomplished day had dawned, and, in plain view of the whole city, this brave band marched in order to the temple of Sengakuji, where Asano was buried. The citizens showed them every honor on the way. A wealthy nobleman, as a reward for their loyal deed, sent them out costly refreshments. When they arrived at the temple the head abbot received them in person and showed them every honor. Finding the grave of their dead lord, they laid thereon the head of the enemy by whom he had been so deeply wronged, and then felt that their duty was done. They were all sentenced to commit hara-kiri, which they did willingly. Afterward they were buried together in the same temple grounds with their lord, where their graves can be seen to this day.

These men simply obeyed the ethical code of their time and country, and as a reward for their loyalty they have received the enthusiastic praise of their countrymen for two centuries. No other story is so popular to-day, or so stirs the hearts of the people, as this. While we, believing that vengeance belongs to the Lord, cannot indorse this deed, we must admire the loyalty and faithfulness of those ronins, and the perseverance with which they adhered to their purpose. In this true story we see clearly the power of this first principle of Japanese morality—loyalty.

The sister principle of loyalty in Confucian ethics is obedience to parents. Unquestioning, absolute, implicit obedience is required of all children. Formerly the child was considered the property of the parents, and could be disposed of at will, even to the taking of its life. To-day the father may sell his daughter to a life of shame, or "lend" her to a private individual for immoral purposes; and, however much she may dislike such a life, obedience to parents requires that she acquiesce in his will, which she does uncomplainingly.

This principle of obedience is the foundation stone of Japanese family life. The relation between parents and children is stronger than that between man and wife, and is given a prior place. An only son cannot be forced to leave his mother and become a soldier, but a husband may be forced to leave his wife. Within the family circle, the son's duty to his aged parents always precedes his duty to his wife. Every Japanese feels deeply this obligation to his parents, and properly to support and nourish them in old age he holds to be a sacred duty. Americans could learn much that would be profitable from the reverence and respect shown for parents and teachers by the Japanese.

In Japan, however, this principle is carried too far. It continues after death as binding as before, and divine honors are paid to dead ancestors. Periodical visits are made to their tombs, religious candles are kept burning in their honor, and prayers are said to them. Among the more enlightened to-day there is perhaps nothing in these ceremonies but reverence and respect; yet by the masses of the people ancestors are worshiped.

There are two moral maxims that show well the relative importance in which parents, relatives, and wives are held. They are the following: "Thy father and thy mother are like heaven and earth; thy teacher and thy lord are like the sun and the moon." "Other kinsfolk may be likened to the rushes; husbands and wives are but as useless stones."

It is apparent that virtues have differing values in the Confucian and Christian systems. We can appreciate their point of view best, perhaps, as we remember the ethics of an army. Here obedience, loyalty, self-devotion, courage, are supreme. Much is forgiven if these are manifested. The organization is everything, and the individual nothing, save as he is a fraction of the great machine. Carry that idea into the social community, and think of it as an army, with all, women as well as men, of value only as parts of the greater whole, and we shall understand why and how the Japanese may esteem men and women righteous whom we judge debased and even criminal. So would the Japanese judge them, were the motive mere passion or selfish desire, but not when the controlling power is loyalty or obedience. Thus the forty-seven ronin were pre-eminently "righteous" when they debauched themselves with every swinish vice.