Section
SEVENTEEN
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ON POPULARITY
A per son to whom many others look up and point as trustworthy and reliable may be called popular. He is one who inspires confidence in people in whatever calling he pursues and in whatever job he takes on, and for whom society has great expectations. The human world has people of various degrees of popularity; if a person cannot be accredited even in the slightest degree, he will be of no use at all. To take a small example, a person who is sent on an errand to buy something worth ten sen is trusted to that amount, and is accredited by others to that amount. Passing from ten sen to one yen, from one yen to a thousand, ten thousand, and finally to a person who manages a bank having a reserve of several million yen, or again to a governor of a prefecture or ministry, not only do they have charge over money, but also over the welfare, wealth, and honor of their fellow citizens. Therefore unless persons in such important tasks are looked up to by their fellow citizens and have their confidence, it will be very difficult for them to do their proper jobs. Not to trust them in such instances would be to call their integrity or ability into question. There will be no limit to distrusting them.
There are many examples, both past and present, of strange anecdotes told about how the anxieties of men were exasperated by placing metsuke [feudal censors] to spy on one other, or by ordering inspectors to inspect other inspectors, etc., but without ultimate success. There are also many people who buy without checking the quality of the products of Mitsui or Daimaru, thinking that since their policy is to mark prices on price tags, there will be no overcharges. And there are many who think that the works of Bakin must certainly be interesting, and so they order them just on account of the titles. Accordingly the stores of Mitsui and Daimaru and the works of Bakin become increasingly popular. Such popularity is a great convenience to business and the writing of books. Even from such examples we can know the importance of a good name.
Now the question of popularity or good name is beside the point when talking about putting a 16 kan [60 kg] weight on the back of a person who has the power to lift it, or about lending one thousand yen to a person who has an estate worth that amount. For these are entirely questions of whether the person can in actual fact handle the added weight or repay the debt. But the affairs of men are generally not as plain and simple as that. Even a person who cannot lift ten kan can sit down and move several hundred kan, or a person whose estate is not worth a thousand yen can put several tens of thousands of yen in circulation. If we suddenly broke into the accounting rooms of merchants who have the reputation of being financial barons and made a precise calculation of their books, there would be some that were short several hundred or several thousand yen in their accounts. Even though such shortages amounted to more than the property owned, so that these men were several hundred or thousand times worse off than a penniless beggar, society nonetheless would not compare them to beggars. Why is this? This is because the merchants have credit. Accordingly, public reputation does not essentially lie in having great competence or properties. It is something gradually acquired through an alert and clever mind, and by the virtue of an honest character.
That popularity is connected with knowledge and virtue is rational and inevitable, but still there have been not a few cases of its opposite in public affairs in both ancient and modern times. Phony doctors have enlarged their office entrances and become prosperous. Apothecaries have put up gold signboards and widened their sales of medicines. Speculators have placed empty safes by their desks. Scholars have adorned their study rooms with original sources which they could not even read. People riding home in rickshaws read newspapers, only to feel drowsy and have to take a nap. The same people who weep tears in church on Sunday afternoon fight with their spouses on Monday morning. Throughout the nation, honest and false, good and bad, are intermingled. Which can be called which? Even worse, a few people, in view of their very popularity, worry whether they are ignorant or immoral. It is no wonder that somewhat high-minded gentlemen do not seek fame or deliberately avoid it as the vainglory of the fleeting world. This is one of the commendable points in the attitude of a gentleman.
Nevertheless, if we discuss only the extreme cases in the affairs of society, there is nothing without its potential harm. That a gentleman does not seek fame in the world seems to be praiseworthy, but he must first clarify the nature of fame before he decides to seek or not seek it. If his fame runs to the extreme of vainglory, like the doctor’s entrance or the apothecary’s signboard, it should of course be repudiated. But from another point of view, human affairs are not all motivated by vanity. The knowledge and virtue of men are like flowering trees; fame and popularity are their blossoms. When cultivating trees to bear flowers, there is no reason purposely to suppress their blooming. Not carefully understanding the nature of fame and trying to cast it away is like clearing off the blossoms and ending up losing its charms. There would be no particular merit in doing so. It would be no different from treating living things as dead. This would be very harmful to the public good.
Yet, should we seek fame and reputation? I say, yes, we should. But it is imperative that we do so according to our station and abilities. Winning popularity through mental and physical activities should be like measuring out rice to give to others. Those who are skilled at measuring out one to of rice with a masu may sometimes under-measure it to the extent that there will be as much as three gō left over; and those who are not skillful may over-measure it so that there will be a shortage of about the same amount. When I advocate seeking popularity according to one’s station and abilities, I mean to measure the one to of rice exactly as one to, neither more nor less. While there is relative skill in measuring rice, the difference caused by it is only two or three per cent. But in the case of marking the measure of one’s own talent and virtue, the tendency is to overestimate or underestimate oneself by far more than three per cent. The skillful person will inflate himself two or three times over, and the unskillful person will underestimate himself by as much as half his real worth. The excessive degree of the former will be a source of great harm to others, and of course is to be despised. But passing over that for a while, let me here say a few words concerning the person who underestimates himself.
Confucius teaches that the gentleman does not grieve over not being known by others, but grieves that he does not know others. This teaching was meant to correct abuses which were current in his own time. But spiritless and unprincipled Confucians of later times have taken these words at face value. By interpreting this as withdrawal from the world, their harm has gradually increased, and finally they have become eccentric, speechless, and emotionless men, like pieces of wood, which neither laugh nor cry. It is a curious fact that people look up to these men, and that they are even called elegant teachers. It is necessary to divest ourselves of these base customs and enter into the spheres of energetic life. That is, we must have broad experience in the world of things and men, both to be known and to know men, and to give full play to our inherent abilities. In order to be able to accomplish this for personal and social good, the following qualities are necessary.
(I) A person should study the art of speaking. To make one’s ideas known through the written word is of course a powerful means, and naturally one should not neglect this path or give up his intention of writing correspondences and books. But there is no more effective means than direct speaking to get one’s thought across to others at first hand. Therefore one must strive to be as eloquent and vigorous as possible in speech. In recent times, meetings featuring public speaking have been held, and it has of course been beneficial to hear useful discussions at those meetings. Both speakers and listeners have been able to share in the benefit to be obtained from fluent and eloquent discourses. But as I listen to the poor speakers of today, I find that their vocabulary is quite limited. They somehow seem to be at a loss for words and expressions.
Take, for example, the case of a schoolteacher lecturing on some translation. If the subject is that of “round crystal jewels,” the teacher makes no explanation of what the phrase means, taking it for granted that the students already know it. He only glares at them, saying that it means a round crystal jewel. But if this teacher had a rich vocabulary and mastery of expression, he could say that “round” means something like a rice ball with its corners smoothed off, that “crystal” is something like glass mined from the mountains, much of which is produced in Kōshū, and that this crystal has been shaped into a jewel like a rolling ball. If he explained it in these terms, even women and children could perfectly understand him. That he has a hard time due to his not employing words that are pertinent, indicates he has not learned the art of public speech. Or take the case of some students who utter meaningless nonsense to the effect that they have to use English because Japanese is so inadequate that they can neither write nor make speeches properly in it. It seems to me that these students, though born in Japan, are still not proficient in their own mother tongue. Every national language increases in sophistication in proportion to the complexity of the country’s affairs, and therefore people should not suffer any inconvenience in using it. More than anything else, present-day Japanese must strive for fluency and eloquence in their own language.
(II) It is necessary to have a cheerful demeanor, and not give a first impression which turns people off. To perk up one’s shoulders and smile fawningly, to be a smooth talker, a drum-beater, or a flatterer, are of course detestable manners. But it is just as detestable to have a grumpy and gloomy face; to have the look of one praised for being taciturn but reproved for smiling; to have the look of one suffering from chest pains all his life; or to have a constant look of one in mourning for his dead parents. A cheerful and lively countenance is one mark of a man of true virtue; in social intercourse it is quite essential. A person’s countenance is like the door to his home. To have a wide circle of friends and callers who feel welcome, he must first open his gate, scrub clean the entrance, and show pleasure in their arrival. But people nowadays go to the opposite extreme. They greet others with sour looks, in imitation of the pseudogentlemen, and are like people who put skeletons before their entrances and coffins before their gates. Who would want to call on them?
France is said to be the source of civilization and the center of knowledge in the world. The reason for this is, among other things, that the French people’s activities are always lively and cheerful, and they have a spirit of warmth in their speech and appearance.
Now, it may be said that speech habits and appearance are inborn; it being impossible to change them, it is useless to argue about them. While this seems true, it turns out to be incorrect when we consider the natural law of human intelligence and its development. Generally speaking, the power of human intellect will advance as much as it is made to advance. It is exactly like strengthening one’s muscles through physical exercise. Our habits of speech and appearance, which are also movements of the body and mind, cannot be improved through neglect. So has it not been a great mistake from ancient times that in Japan men have not cultivated these important functions and have not cared about them? I am not saying that the Japanese must make a study of speech and appearance, but I hope that from the present on they will at least begin to take proper notice of these efficacious ethical precepts.
Someone may still object that to make one’s appearance presentable only means to adorn one’s looks on the outside. And if such is made the essence of human association, people will not only adorn their looks and their clothes and foods, and the like, they will even invite guests whom they normally would not think of inviting and entertain them in a style inappropriate to their social standing. Thus, there will be vices in human association motivated by affectation.
Yes, such an objection also seems to contain some truth; but as we can see in the saying, “Too much is as bad as too little,” affectation is an abuse, not the essence, of human association. Thus for example the purpose of food is to nourish the body, but overeating will injure one’s health. Nutrition is the purpose of taking food, overeating its abuse—thus each is the opposite of the other. The aim of human association is also to be harmonious and sincere, whereas indulging in ostentatious role-playing is not the true essence of human relationships.
No relations are as intimate as those between husband and wife and between parents and children. What, then, governs such intimate relationships? It is a sincere heart that is harmonious and honest. Intimate relations can be realized only when affectation has been swept away. In like manner human friendship is based on sincerity, which is entirely incompatible with ostentation. I say this to show people the direction in which they should strive, even though I do not expect people to treat others with the same affection as they treat their spouses or parents or children. These days people rightfully praise a person for being cheerful, open-hearted, free and easy, frank, manly, talkative but moderate in pressing his views, boisterous but lovable, taciturn but kind, or serious looking but frank, and the like. These qualities are all family-like qualities, and put a premium on sincerity and harmony with others.
(III) Another saying has it: “If people walk different paths, they will never meet to discuss matters together.” People also misunderstand this saying. Birds of the same feather tend to flock together—scholars with scholars, doctors with doctors, and so forth. If slightly diverging in their occupations, they do not remain close to one another. When they were schoolmates they were friends, but after graduation each goes his own way, becoming a merchant or a government official, etc., and drifting miles apart, even becoming enemies in some cases. What a tragic result!
If we wish to interact with others, we should not only remember our old friends but also make new ones. We should meet with one another in order to communicate with each other. If we do not, there is no way to know each other. Are there not many gentlemen who have met someone by chance and have become his friend for life? When we meet people, there is one chance in ten of making a real friend, and two chances in twenty. And it is mainly in such a way that we get to know one another. Therefore, over and above the question of popularity and fame, it is a good thing to have many acquaintances and friends. You may meet someone on the Ginza who was in the same ferryboat with you years back, and the two of you may now unexpectedly have something to offer each other. A greengrocer who delivers at your house may someday be there to take care of you when you fall ill at some inn along the highway to Ōshū. Men are neither devils nor serpents. They are not enemies out to harm you. Let us welcome people into our lives in a natural way, with true and open minds.
In addition, if we want to widen our circle of friends, it is essential to have as broad a range of interests as possible. We have to be able to play more than one note ourselves, and this means we should associate with people of all sorts of interests—intellectual interests, business interests, calligraphy and art, the games of go and shōgi. Except for dissipation, everything can become an avenue to friendship. People of no accomplishments whatever can still enjoy a meal or tea together. On an even lower level, people with strong builds may find they can acquire new friends in such games as arm wrestling, pillow tug-of-war and leg-wrestling. It may seem that arm wrestling and intellectual activities do not belong in the same categories. But the world is large and human associations multifarious. Our lives should be different from that of a few crucian carp passing their days in the bottom of a well. People should not dislike one another.
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  [Daimaru was a dry-goods store founded in 1717, and still exists today as one of the biggest department store groups in Japan.]
  [Kyokutei (a.k.a. Takizawa) Bakin (1767–1848) was a popular author of a Japanese literary genre called gesaku. He completed his major romance, Nansō Satomi hakkenden (Eight Dog Chronicles), over a period of 28 years from 1814 to 1842. This work is regarded as one of the representative yomihon (“reading books”), a literary style established in the Edo Period, which placed greater emphasis on the contents of the text than on its illustrations.]
  [A masu is a unit for measurement. One to is about eighteen liters, and one gō is a hundredth of a to]
  [Fukuzawa is referring to Ōshū Dōchū (a.k.a. Ōshū kaidō; Oshū Highway), one of the Five Highways in the Edo Period. It connected Edo with present-day Shirakawa City and other parts of northern Japan.]
  [In the game “pillow tug of war,” two opponents take hold different ends of a Japanese wooden pillow, using only the tips of their fingers. Each strives to pull the pillow away from the other. In “leg-wrestling,” two opponents are seated and strive to knock each other, using only their legs.]