ance in misfortune. It calls for fellowship between husbands and wives, and would give Japanese women a more independent position. But the sect appeals most to the Japanese masses by associating religion with health and material welfare. It preaches cheerfulness, and aims to uplift the masses to a more joyous condition of life. Its faith-healing practice, resting on optimistic views of psychic power, attracts many votaries. Though it teaches kindly morals, its ethical standards are not exacting, and it calls for no self-sacrifice other than that which is involved in fellowship and coöperation. The sect believes in one chief god or supreme ruler, and is true to its Shinto derivation in being extremely nationalistic in its enthusiasm. Its joyousness often takes a luxuriant form, such as hilarious dancing and wild orgies,frowned upon by the police authorities. For this reason, the government at first refused to recognize the sect as an authorized religious body. But the growth of the Tenrikyō in numbers and influence was such that the state was forced to take official cognizance of it. In the few decades of its existence, this sect has grown so as to comprise at the present time over four million adherents, and many thousand preachers.

Japanese Buddhism is remarkable for the great number of sects into which the believers are divided. Every conceivable tendency of thought is represented by a different grouping. Of late there has moreover been great activity in the formation of Buddhist societies among the educated people. Among organizations recently formed, the Great Japan Young Men's Buddhist Association, which works among the students of the different Tokio universities, is perhaps the most important. Many of its older members have attained high position in the social and

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political world, and the society therefore enjoys a considerable influence among the intellectual classes. It includes among its members adherents of all the different sects of Buddhism.

Other associations are formed for special purposes, such as the scientific study of Buddhism, the commemoration of important personalities, or the development of the tenets of particular sects. The great commercial house of Mitsui and Company has been instrumental in organizing a Buddhist society of nearly one thousand members - officials, statesmen, newspaper editors, and well-known business men. This society devotes itself especially to meditation and to the study of Hekiganroku, one o. th most popular books of the Zen sects. Recently a young Buddhist priest has established a dormitory where he brings under his educational and religious influence a great number of young men. These are some of the centres of activity through which Buddhism is regaining in part the influence which it formerly exercised among the intellectual classes of Japan.

We may note in passing that the situation is not entirely unfavorable to the further development of Christianity in Japan. The rationalistic apathy of the first part of the Meiji era was the most unpropitious soil for religious growth. Rationalism is indeed still strong, and therefore rationalistic forms of Protestantism, especially Unitarianism, have exercised a definite influence among thinking men of Japan. Some scholars even believe in the possibility of a Japanese religion constructed upon a rational basis, with an eclectic use of the best elements in other religions. Of this opinion is Dr. Tetsujirō Inouye, whose writings are quite representative of the thought of educated Japanese. Dr. Inouye's point of view is, however, essentially secular.

He values religions according to their ethical contents and the moral influence which they exert. Neither Buddhism nor Christianity, considered as forms of supernatural belief, inspires him with enthusiasm. The mixture of doctrines in Buddhism brings about a distracting confusion, and as for moral influence, the majority of Buddhist priests are so bad that if there was such a place as hell they ought to be the first to go there.' Christian teaching, on the other hand, to his mind lacks many of the characterforming elements in which Confucianism is rich. In common with many Japanese Christians, he believes that the future growth and influence of Christianity in Japan depends upon the manner in which it shall be able to solve the ethical questions that perplex Japan, and to adapt itself to Japanese character and social conditions.

The search for ethical standards to be applied in national life has strengthened the hold which Confucianism has upon the Japanese. The ethical elements contained in Bushidō, the warrior's code which has of late received so much applause in Europe and America, are drawn mainly from Confucian thought; therefore the success of Japan in the recent war again redounds to the prestige of the Chinese sage, as it encourages in general a return to Oriental origins. Thus it happens that we witnessed, a year or two ago, the revival in Japan of the custom of publicly paying honor to the memory of Confucius. This ceremony in honor of Confucius had been allowed to lapse at the time of the Restoration, when Japan was bent upon the revival of Shinto and was in other respects looking to Europe for light and guidance. But now the commemorative festival is again observed - a spontaneous homage to a great Oriental sage and hero. Moreover, Confucian thought has been

made the basis of the practical work of several ethical societies, as notably of the association which, . under the guidance of such men as Baron Shibusawa and Mr. Yano Tsuneta, is attempting to develop higher standards of morality in the Japanese business world.

In the matter of ethical ideals and common morality, Japan is passing through a critical era. The code of Bushidō, which produced the moral excellences of the feudal age, deals in the main only with the reciprocal duties of feudal vassal and superior. It has no teachings for the relations of man to man in a more democratic state of society, especially in a society of competition where men meet face to face in the strenuous and grim struggle for a livelihood. Despite itself, Japanese society is becoming individualistic. The harsh compulsion of the competitive system, ambitious striving after success, or mere grasping for the necessaries of life, has brought into play motives which were dormant in the older era of group association. The word 'success' is used as frequently in Japan as in the rest of the world, and seems to exercise the same kind of charm.

With the older restraints removed, and with a universal worship of getting ahead, there remains no ethical check upon selfish and ruthless action in the scramble for livelihood, wealth, and power. The virtues of liberality, generosity, and self-control, inculcated by the code of Bushidō, have not as yet been transferred to the ordinary relations between men. Even the greatest admirer of Bushidō would not claim that this code answers the moral needs of Japan to-day. The inspiring devotion and self-sacrifice of the Japanese soldier have not been given their counterpart in the virtues of every-day life. The principle of the

limitation of moral force seems to be borne out by Japanese experience. The potentialities of Japan are exhausted in the heroic virtues of war and the traditional loyalty and piety toward superiors and parents. A new distribution of moral energies, in accord with the new structure of society, is a task that will require the patient effort of generations.

In the field of ethical speculation, men's minds are confused by the impact of system upon system, and sect upon sect. Christian ethics is a matter of ideal to which, even in Christian societies, conduct conforms only in part; it is an aspiration which presupposes all that is contained in Western civilization. Its full bearing and influence cannot therefore be appreciated by an alien society. The greatness of Buddhism lies in the realm of psychology and in the refinement of mental powers and processes, through freeing the mind from the limitations of individual existence. On the side of popular morals, its teachings are subject to a great many conflicting interpretations. The ethics of Confucius does not deal with the relations of man to man, but with certain enumerated social relations, leaving the men who may not be thus bound together confronted with each other in the struggle of competition without any adequate ethical guidance. Whatever instruction the masses of the Japanese people receive in ethical subjects is based upon the imperial edict on education of 1890. With great wisdom the Japanese government resolved to place public education on a secular footing; and in following the precedent set by America, it avoided the endless struggles which the introduction of religious teaching would inevitably have brought about. But it was felt that some ethical guidance should be afforded the young. The highest authority in the realm there

fore addressed the nation on this matter in the edict which has become the Magna Charta of Japanese education.

The principles which this edict lays down as fundamental in ethical culture are grouped about the duties of loyalty to the sovereign, and piety toward parents and other superiors. A second edict was issued in 1908, which instills the virtues of frugality, frankness, and simplicity of life. The moral problems resulting from the victories over Russia offered the occasion for issuing this edict; but its purpose may also have been to supply guidance in the more ordinary and less heroic virtues, of which Japan has been in special need in times that require patient dutifulness in every-day relations. The reception accorded this ethical exhortation was rather cool, and some critical minds ventured to suggest that such preaching on the part of the government was not complimentary to the intelligence and self-reliance of the nation.

The complaint is often heard that while the edict might be made the basis of broad instruction, the official interpretation has been such as to confine emphasis entirely to the ideas of loyalty and filial piety (chu ko). Should any teacher attempt a broader treatment, or should he even suggest that the imperial edict ought to be supplemented by further instruction in order to fulfill its purpose, he might be accused of want of respect to the Emperor, and his position would be endangered. The Japanese school system exercises the most painstaking care with respect to the observance of loyalty to the Emperor. The loyalty which the Bushido code inculcated is at the present time focused entirely upon the head of the state. The Emperor's photograph hangs in every schoolroom in the Empire. The attitude of students and teachers toward

this picture is one of veneration, sometimes almost of fearsome awe. It is certainly not in accord with the wishes of His Majesty that his picture should become a source of apprehension to his subjects, and yet such has been the result, in many cases, of official practice. Persons have lost their lives in trying to rescue the photograph from fire, and school principals have committed suicide because the imperial picture had been destroyed or removed.

A peculiar situation has thus been brought about. In the schools, from which religious instruction is excluded, there has grown up a political cult, which claims the entire force of the religious sentiments of the pupils in deep reverence, and the unquestioned acceptance of mythical explanations of national origins. The moral capital accumulated during the feudal era has been invested almost entirely in loyalty to the Emperor. By the side of this cult, no other religious feelings are encouraged in the schools; any ethical ideas that do not directly contribute to its strength are frowned upon by the authorities. A certain kind of official guardianship over morals is also illustrated by an order issued by the Tōkio police to troops of itinerant story-tellers, to the effect that only such stories are to be related as teach loyalty to superiors and filial piety. It is not difficult to imagine how readily these

disreputable vagabonds will satisfy ethical requirements by allowing their hero-villains to utter a few pious sentiments an art of ethical legerdemain which is, as we know, also practiced in higher circles.

While speaking of ethical motives in Japanese life, we ought not to overlook the fact that ethical conflicts form the deepest interest in Japanese drama and literature. The Japanese distinguish between giri, which is reason, principle, duty, and ninjo, human affections. When these two are in conflict, the knightly code of Japan demands an absolute sacrifice of all human feeling. The moral grandeur of suppressing the strongest passions and affections of the heart and obeying without a murmur the dictates of duty, will always move the Japanese, to the point of causing them to shed tears even when the conflict is presented only in poetry or on the stage. This great ethical force, though focused upon loyalty to a superior, might in time come to form a strong substructure for broader moral sentiments and enthusiasms. The problem of developing it in such a manner as to comprise the social relations between man and man, and to bring these powerful ideas of duty and justice to bear upon the ordinary affairs of life, is what Japan has set herself to solve, as a result of the social transformations during the Meiji era.

AFTER the first cold fog of the California coast, there came sunny days and a sparkling ocean. Lazy days, given over to watching the ship's wake, and to watching the water creatures that for a moment would show themselves, and to watching the western horizon, clear and incredibly far, its final streak of light surely the sunshine on Japan.

In a while the Mexican ports began, a day here, an hour there. There would be a swift turning from the green ocean into a land-locked bay, always a light-blue bay with hills sheer to a light-blue sky, and with white adobe houses scattered about, wherever there was foothold between hill and sea.

At our imperious whistle, launches would come out with the ship's mail and her coal; and boats would come out laden with fruits, flowers, parrots, shells, drawn-work, fans, pottery; and on the beautiful southern water would show the still reflections of the boats and of the red-robed boat-women.

For a day or an hour there would be loud bartering, shrill Spanish babbling, the screeching of parrots, and the rasping of coal, then out again to the green ocean.

At Salina Cruz the stop was for passengers, fifty of them, an opera troupe from Spain, who, during the rest of the way, sang for us of nights on deck; complacent, wondrous nights, with moonlight upon us, and upon old Mexico across the water.

Early on the fifteenth morning the mountains of Guatemala loomed up,

and soon we were standing off Port San José whistling for row-boats.

A train waited, and there was an all-day ride up the beautiful Central American Cordillera. Toward evening came the circling of a volcano whose ridges and cañons were rich in pink and purple and strongest greens; then the final rush over a splendid plain, the flash of a white stone bridge, and a glimpse of domes and palms above a level of rich brown tiles.

But this was only the Valley of the Hermitage and Guatemala City. My valley, the valley that had, it seemed, been especially made for me, lay still farther on in the mountains, and the next morning I started for it by mule team, for, thanks be, no railway leads there.

The road went for thirty miles straight toward the volcanoes, past a three-hundred-years-old Indian city and through many a pueblo. The streams were high, the stone bridges moss-grown. I wondered at the beauty of sky and trees. The magnificence of the trees gave me hope; surely the hills and the air that had quickened them would be able to do something for me.

At perhaps six o'clock in the afternoon, we got into the Valley, a great volcano-trough that has often been torn and sundered, and drove toward its ruined city, Antigua, that since the earthquake of Santa Marta, in the seventeen hundreds, has lain literally prostrate at the foot of Mount Fuego. We followed an old, crooked, treeshaded road, across rivers and up and