When I was a child

Preface

" When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. . . ." — i Corinthians xiii. iith verse.

CO it was in my case too. It is not a very easy task for me to recollect more than a quartercentury backwards. However, it is my sincere wish not to write anything incorrect. First o£ all, I do not want to deceive all the readers. Secondly, my idea is this — The record of one's own life is just like the sketch of a view. If the artist makes most faithful measuring on the architecture, you can set the perspective on it and disperse it into the plain architecture drawing, and you may be able to build the same architectures from the sketch. But if the artist's measuring is not accurate, you cannot do so. With the human life, if one writes out all his life faithfully, it may be a good material for the psychological professor to solve many theories from it. On the other hand, if he lies in his writing, it would be absolutely no use for the psychological study.

It has been my ambition with this book to give ample materials for your psychological study.

A 2 V vi WHEN I WAS A CHILD

Therefore I have written everything with sheer truthfulness, notwithstanding I often felt quite bashful to confess many things what I had done or I had thought.

Now let me tell you how I have recollected my past life. I kept myself quite alone in my room, and shut my eyes and asked my brain about my past. First I saw all surrounding views in my imagination, then I began to make my mental pictures of my family, relatives, and friends. Then I began to hear their voices exactly as they used to talk to me, and I heard my voice plainly — that of my childish days. I tried to put down on the paper all my childish feelings as they were on each occasion. As St. Paul said, when 1 was a child my words and my thoughts were childish, and now my memory of my childish words and thoughts are thickly enveloped into my grown-up thoughts. It is very difficult for me to make my childish thoughts entirely divorced from those of my present life.

It is the human nature that one does not like to say what he feels to be so ignorant. So with me. To-day I have attained much more knowledge than when I was a child, and I do not like to write as I really was. But it is not fair to mix up my present ideas in the story of my childhood. I am glad to say I have got courage enough to shake

PREFACE vii off all my pretension, therefore what I have written here is exactly what I have done or felt at each time.

Another difficulty delayed my mind. When I was a child I had rather good memory, and if my memory was absent there was only a dark blank in my brain. To-day it is different with my brain. Since I am grown I began to have such a great imagination. (I think I have got much imagination since I have become an artist. For artists are obliged to make pictures entirely from their imagination, especially to illustrate some fictions, etc.)

Therefore if I recollect my past life, I don't see any dark blank. It is all because my imaginations fill up the places where my memory is lost. This is most dangerous thing, and I have been very careful about it. It was almost one year and half ago since I started to write this book. During all this time I have had constant communications with my brother and many other relatives and friends in Japan. They have been always confirming my writing. Especially my brother has been helping me by sending from time to time many snapshots around my village, which helped my memory very much indeed.

Contents

CHAFTER

I. My Early Life at Home

II. My Study on the Japanese and Chinese Classics . . . .

Chapter I My Early Life At Home

1\^Y own home village in Japan is Koromo. '*■ It is such a small mountainous village in Mikawa, and although the view is beautiful, no pilgrims ever stop their feet at Koromo. Japan is so rich with charming landscapes, and my home village is not counted by the nation. However, if it were in England or America it would gain a great name by its beauty. I myself am very proud of it, especially because it is my own home. Koromo is situated on the north-west part of Mikawa County. Mikawa means " three rivers " ; hence the district has three rivers. One of the rivers, Yahagi, is running round a valley. Its curve is just like a bow, and my home village is outside of the bow. On the north, some ten miles away, the Mount Sanage spreads its skirt, and the very edge comes right to the village. On the east, beyond the river Yahagi, many mountains near and far are making a well-designed screen. On the south and west the slopes go down to the sea, some twenty miles off.

I was born on the Christmas Day of 1874. My boy name was Heiji. I have one sister and brother. They are thirteen years and nine years

THE HOUSE IN WHICH I WAS BORN

older than myself. My father was wandering all over the country during the Civil War, and I was born just when Japan opened the country and was restored to peace.

It is general rule in Japan that youngest child is spoilt by the parents, and I was not an exception from this. Of course my sister and brother loved me so much too. But as soon as I was grown up enough I realized my position ; I began to respect my sister and brother, and try to be as nice as possible to them. Surely that gave some sweet euphony in my family, and we were the specimen for the children in our village. Indeed, I often overheard some parents telling their quarrelsome children, " Be as nice as Mr. Markino's children." I myself don't remember about my babyhood, but I cannot forget what my mother and nurse used to tell me later on : that one day, when I began to crawl about, I went over a fly-paper, and my hands and face all together stuck to the paper. It was so seriously dangerous as I could not breathe. A doctor was sent for to rescue me, and all my hair was cut and shaved.

Since I was four I remember many incidents so vividly even now. For instance, my nurse used to teach me how to make paper animals. I learnt several lessons in a week, and also I used to draw some flowers and birds. All my families were very proud of me.

I think my parents were so careful about my home education. Whenever I was naughty they never smacked me, but they always brought a looking-glass in front of my crying face. I hated to see my own face so ugly with the tear-marks, and I immediately began to laugh. Very often when_I wanted to cry a little longer I used to scream, " Oh, don't show me the glass for a few moments ! "

I was never scolded severely. They always told me, " You are a very nice boy, but just at this moment some evil is trying to dwell in you. How pity the evil is making you a bad boy and giving some trouble to your dear parents ! " And I began to feel so sorry for them, and I used to cling to their necks and say, " The evil is gone long time ago. I am your favourite boy."

When I was a child I was more like a girl. The servant of the village grammar school had a quarrel with his wife. One said I was a boy and the other said a girl. They asked my nurse which was right.

I entered into the grammar school when I was five years and seven months old. Some months before that I began studying to write and read the Japanese alphabet. I was so anxious to attend to the school. My father wanted me to wait until I became six, but my patience was broken, and I was so spoilt. My brother took me to school with him. He was a quite advanced student then. I went into his classroom. There I was spoilt again by all his friends and even by all teachers. But the time for lessons had come, and I was taken to my own classroom. There I began to feel miserable immediately. All my classmates were too young to spoil me, and I did not like to be under school rules.

It was only a few days before I entered into the school I saw a famous Japanese play, Sendai Hagi, played by some amateurs in the village. There was a little Samurai boy who said, " When one is born as a Samurai he must not say ' hungry,' even when he starves to death." This boy was supposed to be about same age with me, so that impressed into my little heart very deeply.

Now, being in the school for a day, I repented that I entered into it, but, recollecting that Samurai boy at the play, I never uttered a single complaint. My family, nurses, and neighbours asked me if I liked the school. I concealed my tears and said yes. This was the very first lesson of bushido in my life.

It was my greatest comfort to confess to my mother before bed everything (good and bad all) what I had done during the day. Without this confession I could not sleep even if I was dead tired. I often stained the school desks and walls with ink, or sometimes I made my classmates cry. When I confessed these things to my mother, she used to take me to the school next day, and she sincerely apologized to the teachers and schoolboys.

My father treated me even tenderer than my mother. This is the greatest difference from EngHsh or American families. But it is true. It was several years after the feudal system had died out, and Japan had already begun to be democratic, and perhaps my father was one of the most democratic Samurai. Nevertheless his inner heart was a purest chivalry. I think his idea was not to make Samurais into labourers, but surely he expected all labourers to become Samurais.

He always said, " Children ought not to know too much about the money matters." So, when I wanted some books, papers, etc., I used to go to shops with his servants. I picked up all what I wanted in the shops, and after I left the shops the servants used to pay. In that way I did not know the values of anything until I became fifteen or sixteen.

If I dropped coins or anything on the ground I never tried to pick them up, because my father told me only the beggars would act such shameful manners.

In my village, which is so far away from Tokio, Kioto, or any large town, the villagers used to be very superstitious, and there were many dreadful traditions about ghosts and foxes. I was so frightened of ghosts and foxes. My parents demanded my nurse not to tell me any ghost stories, but she often told me many ghost or fox stories.

MT EARLT LIFE AT HOME j

and these stories went into my childish brain so deeply. When I was taken near by some graveground in night, I always so tightly stuck to the other people's hands, and if I heard foxes' voice I used to run home as quick as possible, and I hated those Buddhist temples, because they all have grave-grounds.

The view of those temples from distance in nights was such a melancholy thing to me, and even the tolling of the temple bells in the evening filled me with dread. I did hate death, and I was so extremely sad for those who died. Now I always envy those Christian children. They are taught to have faith in the future life, and if their relatives die they believe the deceased are happy in heaven. To me it was contrary. When I was a child I used to imagine that if we die we have to go through a long, dark passage quite alone. I am sure that imaginative fear injured my poor little childish brain a great deal.

My sister married when I was six years old ; but she used to live in my home for more than half of the time, and looked after me, as my mother was so weak. The next year she had a baby, who died after a few weeks. That was a great shock to me. I used to hide myself in a bamboo bush and cry.

In the grammar school my first lesson was a

Primer Reader. It had some phrases like these : *' The virtue of suppleness is to be bent without being broken " ; and " The virtue of strength is to stand straight against any blow." Fancy ! such was the lesson for five or six year old children ! Of course, none of them could understand that. Only they tried to recite to pass the examination. But I was such a curio-comic child and I wanted to know the real meaning. I asked my father. He tried to explain it by many means every day. I think I caught the real idea at last. Indeed, ever since, it has been the foundation-stone of my moral. If the school children had a quarrel, I always took the part of the weak. I felt it was my duty to wipe the tears of the victim and strike the winner. This was much encouraged by my father. And I always loved the tenderness and dreaded savage roughness.

We have a lantern fete called Tenno Matsuri (July loth every year). When I was five my mother and father bought me several beautiful lanterns, and lit them, and tied them on a bamboo tree, for that festival evening. I was so delighted, and carried them to a temple ground with all my family. Some rough boys came and struck my lanterns with sticks and tore them into pieces. I was not allowed to cry, so came home quite silent ; then I cried so bitterly in my room. I remember

THK LANTERN FESTIVAL my parents were talking about that subject. My father said to my mother, " Such is this savage world. If we bring up our child quite tenderly, he will suffer a great deal sooner or later, because he must meet with the rough world in his life. We have an old proverb, ' When lions get babies, they always throw their babies into a steep valley, and they bring up only those babies which climb up the cliff themselves ! ' Perhaps we should better to be lions."

Whereupon my mother begged him to ignore that proverb and make their child's life quite gentle as long as they could protect him from the wild world. I knew they were talking all this, thinking I was too young to understand them. But in fact I remember every word of them, even now. Only I could not understand if the world was really so savage. After some twenty-five years, when I was in a hard time, I recollected that once again as a fresh word.

I don't know exactly from when I began to be fond of cats, but, so far as I remember, I loved cats from very early time. I used to take a cat into bed to sleep together, and I could not live without it. So if the cat was lost while I was in the school or anywhere away from home, it was a great job for the servants to find out another before I came home. Otherwise I would be so miserable. Even now I do love cats so much. The other day a psychological professor told me I must have some special magnetism for cats, for, however unhappy I am, if I touch my hand to cat I immediately feel so comfortable and happy.

Another vivid recollection when I was five or six is about my toys. My parents absolutely spoilt me by giving me innumerous extravagant toys, which no other children in my village ever had. I used to arrange all of them on the verandah every day. I had such elegant " castles," " palaces " — with every sort of furniture in — many beautiful dolls clad in gorgeous silk kimonos, etc. etc. But when I was asked which toy I loved most, I always pointed to a tiny old " bird." Its bill was broken and its painted wings were faded away. All people asked me " Why ? " I could not give them my answer. For I was too young to analyse my heart psychologically, or at least to put my feelings into words, though there was the very feeling in my heart which has been unchangeable and immovable until this time, and so it will be for all my life. Shall I answer this question now ? (Lo ! after long thirty years !) Well, because that poor " bird " looked extremely pathetic I To-day I have naught to fear, even if this whole world turns into my enemy. But I have absolutely no controlling

MT EARLT LIFE AT HOME ii

power over anything pathetic. And this feeling has had its bud when I was quite a child, and people used to say I had no common sense because I often did most extraordinary things with my uncontrollable emotion. It was one of the days at this time that I dreamed a very singular thing. It was Koshin-Sama Day (a fete day of Koshin- Sama, whose temple was outside of our village.) I wanted to go to that fete and to spend two sens (halfpenny) for my new toy. But in my dream my family was so poor and we were dwelling in one of those smallest huts in the village. I asked my mother two sens. She said she had no money. I sprawled myself over a small straw mat and cried whole morning. My mother looked so sorry for me. I never forget her very pathetic expression in my dream.

I got up in the morning, but I was still thinking about my dream. She asked me why I looked so serious. I confessed her how naughty I was to her in my dream, and I apologized her to be such a great burden to her, even though it was only a dream. And I said to her then, " What a good thing that it was only my dream, but there might be many families to whom such an incident is only too real." Whereupon my mother said in tears, " Well said, Heiji, you go and help those poor children " ; and she gave me many coppers.

I was so happy to distribute all these coppers to those poor children in our village.

My father was so generous to the villagers. They often had a flood from the river Yahagi, and he used to rescue all poor people. This was very well during the feudal system, when he had a revenue, but after the great change of New Japan he still continued in the same way and soon became quite poor.

But evidently he had most honourable life. I being his favourite child, all those flattering villagers called me ** our honourable little Master Heiji," and entirely spoilt me. Whatever I wanted to do it was done so. That was the reason why I lost my common sense.

Once I overheard my mother complaining that those servants, gardeners, and other workmen were spending too much matches for their smoking, and that the matches were always too short. It just happened that a fete day came, and fifty sens were given to me to spend. I said to myself, '^ Very well, then. I shall spend this money most useful way." I bought matches for fifty sens' worth, and let the shopman carry a large bundle of matchboxes to my home. Matches were very cheap in Japan ; I think there were several hundred boxes for fifty sens.

Everybody was so amazed. My mother said.

" I wish the shopman had a little sense and did not sell so many matches to a child." Some neighbours whispered, " Hark, what the mother said. She blames the shopman and forgets her own child has no sense ! "

At the grammar school I used to believe all what I was taught. But very often I made an awful misunderstanding. For instance, our Reader said, " The human nature is just like the water. If you put the water into a square vessel the water will become square ; and if you put it into a round vessel it will have a round shape. Boys and girls, therefore, you must choose your friends."

No sooner than the school hour was over, I ran to my neighbour who had a newly born baby. I told the mother, " Don't put your baby on a hard, flat bed ; her figure will become flat."

After that I was the central figure in the village to be laughed at.

However, sometimes my sense was right enough to receive lessons which are so valuable even now. Let me write down a few.

" Once upon a time there was a mother lark who had some baby larks in her nest. The nest was built in an oats field. It was the harvest-time, but the baby larks were not grown up enough to fly. While the mother lark was gone for the day's work to search for food, the farmer came with his son and said, ' Lo, the oats are ready to be reaped ; I must ask my neighbours to help us to gather them in to-morrow.'

" When the mother lark came back, the baby larks told her all what the farmer had said. The mother lark said, ' Nay, do not worry ; the farmer shall never be able to reap the oats.'

'' The next day the farmer came with his son again and said, ' Our neighbours were too busy to help us, so to-morrow I shall ask my relative to help us.' The baby larks told this to their mother. The mother lark laughed and said, ' The foolish farmer is still relying upon other peoples, so we need not be afraid,' and she went off for her day's work again.

" The next day the baby birds told their mother that this time the farmer said nobody would help him, therefore to-morrow he himself would reap the oats with his son.

" The mother lark said, ' Now the time has come for us to fly off. If one decides to do things himself, he will do so without failure."

In my babyish mind this story impressed me so much.

At that time I often had a long walk with my brother. We both got so tired. My brother would sit down on the grass and say, " Oh, if only a riksha would come ! " I said, " No, no. Don't

MT EARLT LIFE AI HOME 15

rely upon the other. Let us persevere our poor weary feet and walk. Even if we step one step each time we are one step nearer to our home each time, and sooner or later we shall enjoy our bed." To confess the truth, I am no cleverer than any ordinary person. Only this valuable lesson carried me all through for last thirty years. I am not at all to the goal yet, but I am intending to be truthful to this lesson for all my life.

Another page of the Reader said, " Even tigers leave their beautiful skin after their death." This impressed my little brain so much too. I thought, " If I live only for eating and sleeping, I am not worth as much as those beasts ; I must show the world I am more superior than tigers." This was the very beginning of my ambition. Here in this short space I regret I could not quote all chapters of my Reader, which encouraged my ambition so much.

I was such an untidy boy and I used to treat my books very badly. One book could not last for six months' term. My father always bought me the same book twice or three times. One day my school-teacher, seeing my book in such a bad condition, said to me I ought to be more careful for my books, otherwise he would punish me. My father heard it, and he was very cross with the teacher. He said to him, " Book is only i6 WHEN I WAS A CHILD

to read and understand the meaning of its contents. If one can take every word into his heart, what does it matter to tear the books into pieces ? Look at most of those children ! They keep their books very neat indeed, but they only recite the books for the purpose of their examination. My child is quite different. He practises every word for his daily life. I hope you v,^ill leave him alone, for I am quite willing to buy a hundred books for him."

The teacher was much ashamed and came to me to apologize. Fancy, a thirty-years-old teacher was to apologize before a seven-year-old boy ! I was so sorry for him, and I tried to be as humble as possible to him.

I was such a spoilt child. It is a general rule that most children have rather trying time by oppressive treatment of the grown-up persons. But in my case it was entirely the other way round. And consequently my daily worryings were on the other way. Even when I was so little, I always tried not to become the centre of jealousy and enviousness. When I was about eight years old it happened that the Mikado had an " honourable go-round," and passed Okazaki, the principal town of our district, and about ten miles from my village.

The Government selected about twenty children from all the schools in the district, and I was one

MT EARLT LIFE AT HOME 17

of them. I had to recite a page of the Japanese history. I still remember so well the part which I recited. It was my most favourite part, so let me translate it here :

(Some eighteen hundred years ago) " a cruel Emperor called Yuryaku killed almost all the royal family. Only two orphan baby princes escaped their death, and were hid in a farmer's cottage in a far-away country. Some seven years passed, and that loyal subject who stole away the baby princes died. So nobody but the princes themselves knew they were the members of the royal family. One evening the Mayor visited that cottage, and the owner of the cottage demanded the young princes to wait on his ' most honourable guest.'

" All the people in the drawing-room were so gay after sake. The two princes, Oke and Woke, alone were left in the kitchen. The elder prince, Oke, broke the silence first : ' How long should we pass such a humble life ? ' They embraced each other and wept for a long while. Finally the younger prince replied, ' That is just what I was thinking now. Let us announce that we are the princes. If the Emperor Yuryaku is cruel enough to assassinate us, let him do so. I would rather die as a prince than live as a farmer's serA^ant. So they both ventured into the drawing-room, c and had a dance, and by their own dance and song they expressed their personaHties. The Mayor, the farmer, and all the others were so surprised, and they bowed down quite flat on the floor and paid their utmost respectness. But they were so frightened of the cruel Emperor. They came to the conclusion that one of them should go to the capital and find out everything. Just that time the cruel Emperor died, and the Government was searching if there was a royal person who could inherit the crown," etc. etc.

I recited with my full sympathy. In a big hall, all the ministers and officers were dead silent. I won the book prize then. That day was the greatest fete day of my village temple.

When I came back from Okazaki to my home, I found out a picture-book on my desk. I thought a servant bought it for me. So I threw that book into the garden, and I said, " I am a child no more ; I don't want such a babyish book now ! "

My mother came to me and said, " Well said, my dear Heiji. You are quite right, and I was wrong. You see, I am always thinking of you as my dear little baby. Yesterday was the first time I missed you on our fete day. I went to the temple without you, and I was so lonely. I was thinking about you all the time, and when I saw that book in a shop, I thought you might like to have it, so I bought it for you. But you are quite right. You don't need such a book, do you ? "