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Robert Van Bergen

Japan's Progress

The rebellion was subdued, but at great expense. Fifty thousand valuable lives had been lost, and more than five hundred millions of dollars had been spent before this dangerous revolt was stamped out. And what had been taught by it? Two lessons which the government must take to heart. The first was that the samurai, as a class, must remain the rulers of Japan, and the next was that such national customs as did not interfere with the progress and future greatness of their country, must not only be left untouched, but be fostered and encouraged.

Okubo, who, by his energy, had conduced not a little to the defeat of Satsuma, was considered a traitor to his clan, and no one was astonished when he was attacked in his carriage in Tokyo, and assassinated, although many mourned his loss. This murder proved how desperate was the samurai spirit, and from this time all the offices were filled by members of this class, while a reaction commenced, under their leadership, tending toward the preservation of Japanese laws, habits, and customs, without hindrance to the improvement of army and navy, the building of railroads, and the developing of the resources of the country.

The kuge members of the cabinet or council had died or retired, and the government was actually in the possession of the samurai. But the most prominent of these who were not actually members of the cabinet, clamored for more influence. I have shown you the numerous good qualities of the samurai: the love for their country, their courage, and unselfishness. But while these characteristics are common to them, they have also another which is equally conspicuous, and that is conceit. A great many of them believe that they, and they alone, are able to rule the country; and each one is impatient because he is not at once appointed prime minister.

Several newspapers had been established in Tokyo and elsewhere, and the samurai, who soon recognized the influence of public opinion, took good care that these papers came under their control. They now could, and did, clamor openly for more influence. "Why don't you establish a parliament, and give us a constitution?" they asked. "His Majesty the Tennô"—mentioning the emperor with expressions of the greatest reverence—"was good enough to promise us this boon. It is you, the emperor's advisers, who prevent him. You are traitors to him and to your country."

The ministers could, and did, suspend such papers, but others sprang up and repeated the complaint over and over again. The ministers had the good sense not to be too sensitive to these remarks, and to decline handing the government over to these self-constituted critics. But a number of the samurai began at last to believe that they had a real grievance, and the government was compelled in 1880 to promise that a constitution would be given and a parliament established within ten years from that time. The clamoring samurai had to be satisfied with this, but there were other ways in which to keep themselves prominently before their fellow-clansmen, and one of these was by the agitation of revision of the treaties.

I have told you several times that the samurai rule the people of Japan in a just and humane manner, but in return they expect the deepest reverence and implicit obedience. Now when the first treaties were made, very little was known of the Japanese by foreigners. But the ministers of foreign nations did know that they had no written laws, that torture could be applied at the option of the judge, and that a certain number of blows was a mild and moderate punishment. Under these circumstances they refused, of course, to allow their fellow-citizens to be brought before native judges, and it was stated in the treaties that foreigners should be judged only according to their own laws and before the consuls appointed by their government.

These treaties should have been revised in 1872; but although the Japanese had been at work to establish a code of written laws, the foreign ministers were not satisfied that their fellow-citizens would obtain justice, and the revision of the treaties was constantly postponed. This roused the Japanese samurai to anger. "Why may we not judge those proud, arrogant foreign merchants, who imagine themselves as good if not better than a samurai?"

The government, although it appeared to exert itself to the utmost, was not in reality anxious to have jurisdiction over foreigners. It knew that in a case of a foreigner against a samurai, not a judge in Japan (where every judge belongs to the samurai class) would dare give a judgment in favor of the foreigner, and it knew also that foreign governments were in the habit of seeing their subjects protected in their rights. But the samurai as a class did not take this point of view. They wanted to be able to humble those proud foreigners, and to avenge themselves for the slights to which some of them had been exposed.

Count Okuma (oh'-koo-mah), then prime minister, had a dynamite bomb thrown under him, which wounded him so severely as to render amputation of a leg necessary.

These events show how much of our civilization had been acquired by the Japanese. Count Ito went to Europe to study the different constitutions, and when he returned he prepared one after the law of the German Empire. Japan was to have a Diet, as the German Congress is called, consisting of two houses, as does our own Congress. The House of Representatives was to be elected by the people, but the samurai would take good care that none but members of their class should take a seat. This was not very difficult, for the people were really well pleased to attend to their own business and leave the duty of governing, that is, of making laws and executing them, to their old-time masters who had nothing else to do, and plenty of experience besides. The House of Lords, corresponding to our Senate, consisted of hereditary members such as princes of the blood; that is, princes related to the emperor and the highest kuge and daimio.

The other nobles were elected by members of their own rank; but the emperor had the right to appoint members for special services. This and the fact that several samurai had received titles equal to or even higher than their former lords, rendered it highly probable that the nobles would vote as the samurai decided. But to make this still more certain, they appointed members of their own class as stewards in the residences of the kuge, daimio, and even of the imperial princes, who were to receive the salaries, pensions, or revenues of these nobles, and disburse them. They found cause for doing so in the fact that some nobles, unaccustomed to think or act for themselves, and never having been allowed to spend money, were found, upon receiving a more or less large sum, to commit extravagances promising speedy impoverishment. The nobles did not object any more than the common people; and so these samurai could influence, if not control, the votes of their employers.

The promised constitution was duly published in 1889; the Tennô took the oath to his divine ancestors, and the Diet was opened with great festivities. The Houses met, and, for novices in parliamentary debate, did very well. Of course, the heat of discussion would sometimes lead to breaches of that politeness for which the Japanese samurai are celebrated; but the odd spectacle was offered of an overwhelming majority in the opposition without its members being able to agree among themselves. This was owing to the humble opinion hidden in each breast that the owner was the only man for the occasion, and that he, for the glory of Japan, should at once be appointed prime minister.

The members of the cabinet were constantly attacked in the debate. For a long time the revision of the treaties was the apparent cause. But England signed the revised treaty in 1894; other nations did the same; and foreigners living in Japan will be placed under Japanese jurisdiction when the new treaties go into effect, that is, on July 16, 1899.