A German Doctor Describes Eighteenth-Century Japan

Engelbert Kaempfer (1651–1716) was a German physician who traveled extensively in Russia and Asia in the late 1600s. His writings on Japan were published posthumously in 1727 to great public interest, and his exhaustive descriptions of Japanese society, language, environment, culture, and history were so accurate — in many cases — that he earned the suspicion of a later Japanese scholar, who warned in the early 1800s that Kaempfer’s careful observations were proof that foreigners should be expelled to prevent espionage. The excerpts here outline his notes on commoners, his understanding of Confucianism, and his description of the Dutch in Japan and their commercial position there.

Judō literally means the way or method of wise men. Judōsha, or judōshū in the plural, are their philosophers. They do not actually practice a religion but seek perfection and the greatest good in the contentment of the mind resulting from a virtuous and unblemished life and conduct. They believe in only secular punishment and reward, the consequence of virtue and vice. Thus one ought by necessity practice virtue as nature has given birth to us to lead the just life of people, as opposed to dumb animals.

Their founder, the first whose teaching was made public, was the famous Kōshi, born in China 2,238 years ago counting from this fifth year of Genroku, or the 1,692nd year after Christ. He used moral teachings to instruct his disciples in the greatest good and was the first to describe the Shōgaku, or book of living ethically, inflicting great damage on the opposing sect of Rōshi, flourishing at the time. After him this sect was continued by the much-praised teacher Mōshi, who established his philosophical Shisho, or Four Books, in this country. Up to this day they have their adherents in all countries where the characters of their writing system are understood.

Their moral philosophy consists of five articles, which they call jin, gi, rei, chi, shin. Jin teaches ethical living (consequently jinsha, virtuous person); gi, law and concern for justice; rei, politeness and civil behavior; chi, practical philosophy, politics, political judgment; shin concerns man’s conscience and sincerity of heart.

They do not believe in the transmigration of souls but in a universal soul, or a force common to the entire world, which absorbs the souls of the dead, like the ocean takes back all water, and in the generation of matter permits them to depart again without differentiation. They associate this world soul, or universal nature, with the godhead and endow it with the attributes of the prime being. They use the word ten, heaven, or nature, in the actions and fortunes of life, thanking heaven or nature for their food. I have spoken to others who conceded an intellect or perfect incorporeal being as the governing agent, but not as the originator of nature. As the highest creation of nature it is produced by in and yō, that is, from the action of heaven and receptivity of the earth, the principles of generation and corruption. In this fashion they also accept other forces as spiritual and believe that the world is eternal and that men and animals were produced from the in yō of heaven and the five elements.

They have neither temple nor gods, but follow the traditions of their forefathers in observing the memory of and commemorating their dead friends. They venerate their dead friends’ byōsho, or memorial tablet, according to the customs of their forefathers and in the fashion of other believers by placing meat in front of it, lighting candles, and bowing to the ground (as if they were alive). They celebrate their memory monthly and annually and prepare themselves three days in advance by abstaining from sexual intercourse and all sinful matter, cleaning their body, and putting on new clothes. All this they do as a human gesture, prompted by their grateful and virtuous heart. The body of the dead is kept for three days above ground and placed into a European-style coffin, flat on the back, but the head is raised a little. Presumably to prevent decomposition they sometimes also cover the body with spices and scented herbs. Then they accompany it to the place of burial, where they bury the body in the soil without prior cremation.

Suicide is not only permitted in this sect but is considered an extraordinary act of bravery when committed to preempt the enemy or a shameful death.

These atheistic philosophers will only perform heathen celebrations or special duties for the gods out of common politeness. Instead they strive for virtue, a clean conscience, and honorable behavior in accordance with the teaching of [Roman philosopher] Seneca or our Ten Commandments. Thus they are also capable of looking favorably at the Christian teaching and as a result have come under great suspicion. According to the new laws, which came into effect with the banishment of the Christians, they must, against their will, keep in their houses the image of a god or mount, or paste up, the characters of the name of a god with a pot of flowers and an incense burner placed in front of it. Generally they chose Kannon or Amida, whom, according to the custom of the country, they assign a place behind the hearth. Of their own free will they may have a picture of Kōshi in public places of learning or, in their own homes, the byōsho of their parents with the posthumous name of, or characters for, a learned man. In the past this now-suspicious sect comprised the greater part of the population and practically held a monopoly on the sciences and liberal arts. But after the martyrdom of the Christians, their numbers decreased yearly and their books were brought into disrepute, even though those books had been valued by all other believers no less than we [Europeans] do the instructive works of Seneca, Plato, and other heathens.

Some thirty years ago it came to pass that the Lord of Bizen, Inaba, an excellent judōshi and patron of the liberal arts, attempted to popularize once again in his fief this sect and its stoic manner of living. He founded an academy, appointed learned men and teachers from all parts of the country, and paid them handsomely. Gaining greater understanding and prompted by example of their superiors, the people no longer wanted to believe in the incomprehensible revelation and fantastic tales or to continue supporting the ignorant rabble of priests, who mostly depended for their living on alms. Consequently these gangs (with which the whole country is packed) nearly died of starvation in this fief. But both the emperor and the shogun were so angered about this matter that they were about to deprive this honest patriot of his inherited fief and would have done so had he not taken the precaution of retiring in favor of his son to prevent his family from falling out of favor. His son, who has governed ever since, demonstrates with his stoic conduct that he is still following his father’s path. . . .

Houses of the Commoners

The houses of common citizens and residents are of poor structure, small and low. They either have no attic at all or one that is low and practically useless. The roof is covered with pine chips, generally secured only by other chips placed across. Like all other houses in this country, they are constructed of wood and clay walls. Inside, the walls are nicely hung with colored paper, and the floors are neatly spread with thickly padded woven rush mats. Further, they are divided into separate rooms by papered sliding windows. They lack chairs or benches and have only as many household items as are essential for daily cooking. At the back there is merely a narrow space for one’s private business, which, however poor, does contain some little plants, carefully grown to provide a focus of interest for the eyes. The houses of people of distinction, the rich, and those handling foreign trade rise to two stories, are spacious, and are partly built in Chinese style with a large building with bare floor at the entrance and a garden at the back. . . .

At the beginning of the present seventeenth century, very soon after their ships began to travel to Asia and the establishment of their East India Company, the Dutch, enticed by the fertile trade of the Portuguese, began making annual visits to this, the furthest empire of the world. They arrived at the city and island of Hirado and set up their warehouse and living quarters on a spit of land linked to the city by a bridge. Their admission to Japan was all the quicker and easier, the greater their enmity was toward those whom the ruler felt compelled to drive out of the country. Even though the Portuguese still had a lot of influence with the greatest lords of the country, and did much to prevent the entry of the Dutch, they were finally unable to stop the shogun Ieyasu — or Gongen, after his death — from giving the Dutch access to the country in the year of Christ 1611 with a special goshuin, which literally means “lofty cinnabar seal” and is a shogunal permit or pass. It is signed by the councilors of the empire and authorized by the red shogunal seal, from the color of which it also takes its name. With this document they were granted in very clear terms, or characters, free trade and access to all provinces and harbors with favorable recommendations to all subjects of the empire. After the death of the shogun they requested to have their privileges renewed and a new pass issued, against the practice of this nation, which considers upholding the laws of its forefathers a sacred duty. This they received, but while outwardly it appeared to be identical in form and shape, it contained much less advantageous conditions. Meanwhile, from the time they settled in Hirado, the Dutch did what they could to profit from the progressive decline of the Portuguese. They did everything possible to please the court, the source of success or failure, as well as the councilors, the lord of Hirado, and any other great men who might proffer help or hindrance. The Dutch spared no cost nor labor to seek out the world’s rarest novelties to pay homage to the Japanese annually and to satisfy the ridiculous passion of the Japanese for various strange animals — which nature did not create the way they imagine them — by bringing in as many as possible from the most distant empires of India, Persia, and Europe. The Dutch showed the utmost subservience in everything, even wrongful impositions, to stay in the good books of this nation and conduct profitable trade. Since they valued their lives, they could show no objection when in 1638 the shogun ordered them to tear down as fast as if they were enemy property their own newly built residence and warehouse on the island of Hirado: valuable stone mansions such as Japan had never seen before. The reason was that the buildings were splendid beyond the custom of the country and had the year of the Christian era on the gable [of their roofs]. Soon afterward, in the same year of 1638, this heathen court had no qualms in inflicting upon them a cursed test to find out whether the orders of the shogun or the love for their fellow Christians had greater power over them. It was a matter of us serving the empire by helping to destroy the native Christians, of whom those remaining, some forty thousand people, in desperation over their martyrdom had moved into an old fortress in the province of Shimabara and made preparations to defend themselves. The head of the Dutch, Koekebecker, himself went to the location with the one remaining vessel (for in the face of the impudent demand the remainder had slipped out of the harbor the previous day) and in fourteen days treated the beleaguered Christians to 426 rough cannon salvos, both from land and sea. Although this assistance resulted neither in surrender nor complete defeat, it broke the strength of the besieged. And because the Japanese had the pleasure to order it, he stripped the vessel of a further six cannons (regardless of the fact that she still had to navigate dangerous seas) that the Japanese insisted had to be lent in addition to the first to carry out their cruel designs.

It is true that this show of total obedience was instrumental in keeping a foothold in the country when the court was considering completely closing it to all Christians. At the same time, however, they gained a bad reputation among the more high-minded at court and throughout the country, for they judged that people who so easily permitted themselves to be used in the destruction of those with whom they basically shared the same belief and the path of Christ — as they had been amply told by the padres from Portugal and Manila — could not be true of heart, honest, and loyal towards a foreign ruler. I was told this by the locals in these very same words. Thus far from earning the trust and deep friendship of this exceedingly suspicious nation by their compliance, the reputation of the Dutch was ruined unjustly, regardless of their merits. Shortly afterward, in 1641, the Dutch, having assisted in the confinement of the Portuguese by word and deed, were to undergo the same experience. For they were told to leave the island of Hirado with all their belongings and to exchange subordination to a lenient territorial lord for directions from a new and zealous administration directly responsible to the shogun, while retiring under strict guard and manifold supervision within the limits of the prison built for the Portuguese. Submission to these proud heathens into such servitude and imprisonment, forgoing all celebrations of feast days and Sundays, all devotion with religious song and prayer, the use of the name of Christ, the symbol of the cross, and all outward proof or signs of being a Christian, and, added to that, good-natured acceptance of their despicable impudence, an affront to any high-minded soul, all that for the love of profit and to gain control of the veins of ore in their mountains.

Engelbert Kaempfer, Kaempfer’s Japan: Tokugawa Culture Observed, ed. and trans. Beatrice M. Bodart-Bailey (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1999), 132–133, 145, 187–188.

READING AND DISCUSSION QUESTIONS