"What do you think of the Japanese?" was asked an American woman
after she had lived some time in Japan. "It seems to me that they
have no soul," was her answer.
This must not be taken to mean that the Japanese is without soul.
But it serves to illustrate the enormous difference between their
souls and this woman's soul. There was no feel, no speech, no
recognition. This Western soul did not dream that the Eastern soul
existed, it was so different, so totally different.
Religion, as a battle for the right in our sense of right, as a
yearning and a strife for spiritual good and purity, is unknown to
the Japanese.
Measured by what religion means to us, the Japanese is a race without
religion. Yet it has a religion, and who shall say that it is not as
great a religion as ours, nor as efficacious? As one Japanese has
written:
"Our reflection brought into prominence not so much the moral as the
national consciousness of the individual. . . . To us the country is
more than land and soil from which to mine gold or reap grain--it is
the sacred abode of the gods, the spirit of our forefathers; to us
the Emperor is more than the Arch Constable of a Reichsstaat, or even
the Patron of a Kulturstaat; he is the bodily representative of
heaven on earth, blending in his person its power and its mercy.
Pages:
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293