And so for the present ends the bloody story: we have condensed it as much as possible, both for the reader’s sake and our own; but, considering the important interests we have at stake in Japan, we have felt it our duty to do all in our power to induce people to read the work before us. After they have gratified that morbid craving for excitement which seems to be the literary taste of the day, they may perhaps be induced seriously to think what is to be done under the circumstances. We have not recounted the efforts which our diplomatic agents in Japan have made to obtain redress, nor the success which has attended those efforts. They are to be found detailed at some length in the work before us. If the reader will take the trouble carefully to read Sir Rutherford’s account of the administrative system of Japan, and more especially of the feudal nobility, of the influence they exercise, and the material forces they control, he will perhaps be able to form some idea for himself of the best course to be pursued. If he makes up his mind—as he probably has done—on what he has read in this article, he will come to a totally wrong conclusion. We did not give him a list of horrors in order that he might get up and say dogmatically, “Oh, it’s clear the Japanese don’t want us, and we ought never to have gone there; and the best thing we can do now is to take ourselves off.” We have only recited these horrors to lure the superficial politician into the perusal of a work, the dry parts of which are the most important. He will learn in it under what circumstances we went to Japan in the first instance—how it happened that a treaty was as much forced upon us by circumstances as upon the Japanese—how we never compelled them to make one, as is generally supposed. He will also find how popular the foreigner is among the lower and middle classes of the Japanese, how great is the aptitude of the mass of the population for trade, how readily they enter into commercial pursuits, and how quickly they adopt the appliances and inventions of a more advanced and enlightened civilisation than their own—how anxious they are to improve both their intellectual and material condition. Then, if he looks at the chapter on trade, with the statistics it contains, he will observe how steady is its development, in spite of the obstructive policy of the Government, and how much room there still is for expansion, what vast resources still undeveloped the country possesses, what room for progress in every branch of art and industry. He will find nowhere that the Government deny our right to be in Japan, or even profess anything but the most anxious desire to see the Treaty carried out in all its fulness, whatever they may secretly feel on the subject. They constantly allude to the difficulties they have to contend with from that one dangerous class who are opposed to the foreigner, and who, though not numerous, are so powerful as to be dangerous opponents. Every restriction placed on trade by the Government, it is professed, arises only from a desire to gain time for the conciliation of this class; and we have so far given the ministers of the Tycoon credit for good faith, that we have consented to postpone the opening of some of the ports as stipulated by treaty. Inasmuch, then, as the Japanese Government voluntarily entered into treaty-relations with this country; inasmuch as they profess themselves anxious to see it carried out, and conscious of the benefit it is likely to confer upon the empire; inasmuch as the great mass of the population is decidedly in favour of an extended commercial intercourse with foreigners; inasmuch as the present value of the annual trade with Japan is upwards of a million sterling, and certain to increase; inasmuch as a wealthy British community, consisting of upwards of three hundred persons, have already established themselves in the country, and possess a great deal of valuable property, in the shape of buildings, warehouses, and all the appliances of trade, besides having large sums of money at stake, which they have invested on the faith of a Treaty signed by their own sovereign, and the abandonment of which would be a breach of faith, and entitle them to compensation; inasmuch, moreover, as the whole of our commercial interests in China would be imperilled by a blow so fatal to our prestige throughout the East as withdrawal from Japan;—for all these reasons, we say, the conclusion so rapidly arrived at by our “dear reader” may be, after all, erroneous; and there may be serious objections to the course he would propose, even granting that theoretically he is right in his premises, and that it would have been better had we never found ourselves driven by the Americans into making a Japanese treaty. It is possible, nay probable, however, that we have failed to convince him, and that, gifted with a prophetic eye, he replies to us—“Very well, you will see you will have a row.” We confess that in this instance he is right. We do not see how that is to be avoided. We think it will turn out a good investment of money, and not be immoral, but we admit the fact.
Indeed, the Japanese themselves seem preparing for it, as the following anecdote, narrated by Sir Rutherford, will show:—
“When I paid a visit to Hakodadi some months after my arrival, where there are extensive lead-mines, I asked the Governor why his Government did not allow some of the produce to be exported, suggesting that it might be a source of national wealth and revenue; and the reply was characteristic in many ways. ‘We have none to spare.’ ‘None to spare!’ I rejoined, in surprise; ‘what can you use it for? You neither employ it in building nor utensils.’ ‘We want it all for ball-practice.’ They did not choose to export, for reasons not very easily explained; but they were not sorry, perhaps, to point to such a use for home consumption.”
We cannot flatter ourselves that the feudal class will submit tamely to the inconveniences which the extension of commercial relations with foreign countries may entail upon them. The monopolies they now enjoy are threatened, their power and influence will be diminished in proportion as the mass of the population is enriched, and their prestige damaged by the independent bearing of the foreigner. Are the interests of the country at large to be sacrificed to the prejudices of this class, and are a people desirous of trade, and anxious to advance in the arts of civilisation, to be abandoned because an aristocracy shrinks from contact with the stranger? So long as the Government, whether sincerely or not, profess their intention of carrying out the Treaty, and ostensibly manifest a desire for our presence in the country, the hostility of a single class can be no sufficient reason for the relinquishment of our treaty-rights. The question is how best to meet a hostility which places the lives of our countrymen in danger, and against which, as it threatens the members of the Japanese Government as well as ourselves, they cannot guarantee us. Hitherto one great difficulty in chalking out a policy has been our ignorance of the complex machinery of Japanese government. We have never had an accurate idea of the relations in which the Temporal and Spiritual Emperors, the daimios, and the great Councils of State stand towards each other. The work before us throws more light on this most interesting point than we have yet received, but still we are groping for a policy. The excessive reticence of the Japanese in all matters connected with their system of internal administration, and the secrecy they so religiously observe in all their communications with foreigners, combined with their habitual mendacity, make it impossible for us to do more than guess at the best way of meeting the difficulties as they arise. The longer the diplomatist resides in the country, and the more he studies its institutions and the character of the people with whom he has to deal, the more is he puzzled in deciding upon the best course to adopt. The only persons who feel no difficulty on this score are the merchants’ clerks who have just arrived, and who love to propound their views in the local newspapers. There are those even in this country who profess to understand how to deal with “Orientals,” and because, perhaps, they may have been at Bombay, consider themselves qualified to lay down the law upon any question of policy which may arise between Cairo and the Sandwich Islands; but it is only the superficial observer who classes all Orientals in the same category; they require as many different modes of treatment as “Westerns,” and there is no more resemblance between a Japanese and a Tamul than there is between a Wallachian and a New-Englander. There is a great danger of such persons applying some general principle, which is right in the main, to all cases, and failing to discover when the rule demands an exception. For instance, it is pretty generally admitted that any concession to an Oriental government is considered as a sign of weakness; therefore, although you may have burnt down the Summer Palace of the Emperor of China, and had Pekin at the mercy of your armies, bully the Government of that country into conceding our exorbitant demands, or they will think you weak. Such is the logic of a recent memorial signed by the mercantile community of China. Again, in Japan, when the Tycoon signed a treaty with this country, his ministers, foreseeing the difficulties with which they would have to contend from the opposition of the aristocracy, stipulated that the ports should be opened by degrees, and the commencement of trade thus assumed the form of a political experiment. We have given a list of the bloody results: the Japanese Government points to it, and prays that a postponement for five years may be allowed in the opening of the other ports, to avoid the multiplication of tragedies by the number of ports. The sum appears a simple one: if you have twelve murders a year with three ports open, how many will you have with six? The mercantile community demand that the other three be opened according to Treaty; any concession will be considered a sign of weakness. They may be right in this instance; and as our diplomatic relations with Japan are certain not to run smoothly, it will be always open to them to say there would have been no difficulty had we refused the concession. However that may be, our Government have given the Japanese credit for a certain amount of good faith in the efforts they have made for our protection, and are willing to try the effect of time in softening the asperities of the hostile class.
The most remarkable result which has yet been produced by the introduction of the foreigner into Japan has been the abandonment of Yedo by the aristocracy. It is impossible as yet to foresee the consequences of this movement. The immediate effect of the exodus of more than 200,000 armed men will be to render the capital a safer place of residence for foreigners than it has been heretofore, although it is probable that disbanded retainers, or “lonins” as they are called, may still haunt the purlieus of the Legation with the view of carrying out the policy of their lords in exterminating the foreigner. The Japanese Government has built a fortified Legation on a very defensible position: this will be surrounded by a moat and wall, and garrisoned by a small body of European soldiers. Except when the members of the Mission ride out, they will be comparatively safe, and even then they will be in no danger of meeting those processions which were constantly parading the streets when the city was inhabited by the feudal class, and each of which was composed of hundreds of armed retainers bitterly hostile to the foreigner. The ultimate consequences of this movement it is impossible to foresee. It may be that the daimios have determined to withdraw from any active opposition, and have retired to sulk in their own territories; or they may have left Yedo for the purpose of organising themselves, with the view of bringing about a civil war, and expelling the foreigner by force of arms. The movement may have originated among themselves, and been carried out in defiance of the Government; or it may have been suggested by the Government as a means of relieving them from the danger and annoyance of further collisions with the foreigner. The residence of the daimios at Yedo was made compulsory upon them by the celebrated Taiko Sama, who, after he had reduced the rebellious aristocracy to submission, devised this method of keeping them under surveillance. Every noble was compelled to keep an establishment at the capital, partly as a recognition of the Tycoon as his feudal superior, partly because those members of his family who were obliged to reside there served as hostages for the good behaviour of the prince. It may easily be imagined that this bondage was irksome to so proud a class, and the present Government may have released them from it, on condition of their withdrawing their opposition to the fulfilment of the treaties with foreign powers. It will be seen from the notice we have already quoted, and which was signed by four lonins, that an old law exists, which has never been repealed, prohibiting the residence of the foreigner in Japan; this forms the groundwork of the opposition policy, and it is believed that the Spiritual Emperor has expressed his dissent from the act of its infringement by the Tycoon.
Practically, then, it would seem that political parties in the empire are divided into two classes—one consisting of the Mikado and a large section of the aristocracy, who do not consider themselves bound by treaty-stipulations with foreigners; the other, consisting of the Tycoon and his government, who do; and this latter party, we may conclude, has the sympathy and support of the mass of the population. As, however, the Temporal Government has proved itself too weak to cope with the opposition headed by the Mikado, the question is, how we can best guarantee the safety of our countrymen, and extort that redress which the Government is powerless to enforce in cases of violent outrage. Diplomacy is powerless, for it cannot reach the offenders; and we are thus driven into hostile action. Either we must insist upon the Mikado ratifying the Treaty, and be prepared to employ force in case of his refusing to do so; or we must take summary vengeance upon any individual daimio who offends. The objection to the first course is, that an application to the Mikado for a ratification of the Treaty would imply that it had not been made with the right person in the first instance, and therefore was not valid. We should thus place ourselves in a false position, for which there is no necessity, as the Tycoon’s Government maintain the validity of the Treaty, and deny that any ratification on the part of the Mikado is requisite. On the other hand, there can be no doubt that the recognition of the Treaty by the Mikado would at once put an end to the opposition of the nobles. In the event, moreover, of the Mikado declining to ratify, we should be compelled to use force. And although, as Miako, the residence of the Spiritual Court, is not above thirty miles from the sea, and may be approached for part of the way by a river navigable for gunboats, we could no doubt succeed in any operations we might undertake, we might possibly excite a feeling of hostility towards us, which would not be confined to the feudal class.
The chief objection to the second course—that of proceeding against the daimios separately—would be that, if it did not lead to a civil war, the effect of any such retaliation would be a partial and temporary measure. The first course we have suggested is not alluded to by Sir Rutherford, and as the exodus of the daimios had not taken place at the time of the publication of his work, we have not the advantage of knowing our author’s views upon the probable bearing of this important event upon the politics of Japan. After discussing the difficulties attending a policy of conciliation pushed beyond certain limits, and the objections to the alternative of withdrawal, our author goes on to say:—
“The conclusion would seem to be, that if there was to be any amelioration, foreign powers must change their tactics; and if these involved a struggle, and the nation were passive, the feudal classes alone being actively engaged in such a contest (and this is what might always be expected from all that is known of the country, always assuming that no revolutionary element came into play), the struggle could hardly be a long one. For, some of the most hostile princes struck down, the rest would probably see the necessity of coming to terms, and suing for peace with a better estimate of our power to make our treaty-rights respected, and compel observance, than has yet entered into the conception of Japanese rulers. So, possibly, we might purchase peace, and trade with freedom from all obstructive limitations, as well as with security to life and property. But by no other means that suggest themselves, after long and patient study of the people and their rulers, does this end seem attainable—if once we break with the daimios, and the Government which masks them—to enter upon a course of coercion.”
Such being our author’s views, it is possible that the measures here indicated may be those ultimately adopted; but where the question is surrounded by so many difficulties, any policy must be more or less hazardous. It will be always easy to wait for the result, and then find fault with it; but we think that the considerations we have advanced are sufficiently complicated to disarm hostile criticism, and that we have no right to test the experiments which our political agents are forced to make in Japan by the traditions of diplomacy in other parts of the world.
If we have entered at some length into the political questions suggested by Sir Rutherford Alcock’s book, it is because we deem it important that people should not neglect this opportunity of making themselves acquainted with the state of our relations with Japan. We refrain, in mercy to our readers, from entering upon the great currency question, which has hitherto proved the chief stumbling-block to the successful working of the Treaty, and which involves an interesting financial problem. We will not follow our author into his dissertations upon consular jurisdiction in the East, though, were the subject more popular, there is much to be said upon it. There is room for an essay on the merits of the Japanese civilisation, and Sir Rutherford touches thoughtfully upon topics which would afford interesting matter of philosophical speculation to a metaphysical mind. It is in this sense, perhaps, that his book is so much more suggestive than any of its predecessors. Our author has lived long enough in Japan to study the anomalies presented by its social and political institutions; and although his knowledge of them is necessarily limited and imperfect, we are forced to admit that Western civilisation alone does not suffice to enable us to construct a system of political economy, or justify conclusions based upon the limited experience of European nations. A Chinese sinologue, with a German turn of mind, wrote a book on China and its rebellions a few years ago, in which he incorporated an Essay on Civilisation. We did not agree in the views it embodied, but we thought it appropriate to the subject of his work. Our author, during the pauses which intervened between earthquakes, fires, and assassinations, pondered over kindred matters, and discusses with us whether, as regards civilisation, “nations and individuals attain the highest state which their fundamental convictions will allow.” If there is a part of the world in which an exile would require all his philosophy, it is Japan; and Sir Rutherford probably amused himself by working out as a corollary to the above proposition, “whether the assassination of the British Minister might fairly be classed among ‘their fundamental convictions.’”