Spiritual Unrest & the Rise of Individualism (Takayama Chogyū, Kiyozawa Manshi & Tsunashima Ryōsen) by Anesaki Masaharu
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| Masaharu Anesaki (姉崎正治) as of Jan. 1914 “Buddhist Priest on Harvard’s Faculty” (Source: The Ogden Standard (Ogden City, Utah), 31 Jan. 1914) |
(From “A History of Japanese Religion” by Anesaki Masaharu, Charles E. Tuttle Company, 1923, pp. 375-384)
Spiritual Agitation among the Youth
The religious agitation exhibited in the rise of the minor sects was a precursor of the rising tide of spiritual aspiration in general. The stress of economic difficulties passed for a time, yet the search for spiritual support continued among the younger generation. The official system of ethics was not only unsatisfying but its pressure aroused a spirit of revolt on the part of the sensitive youth. The more rigidly were the principles formulated and the more insistently were they inculcated, the deeper the discontent and the graver the opposition. The schoolmasters themselves were not sure of the value of the work imposed upon them from above, from which they were allowed no deviation. Not a few of them wanted something more directly appealing to the human heart yet had no choice but to hold their posts, being hypocrites, as some confessed. The neglect of the individual was the fundamental defect of the educational system, and the reaction against this was shown in the demand for freedom and also in the insistence on spiritual aspirations. “We have asked for bread and have been instructed merely in the theory of making bread”—this utterance by an ardent individualist, Takayama [Chogyū 高山 樗牛 1871–1902), found sympathetic echo in many quarters. In this way the first years of the twentieth century were marked by the rise of individualism and the increase of spiritual agitation. Yearning for something broader or deeper than the official ethics, searching for an enduring light beyond nationalistic principles, yet being not satisfied with any of the current religions, sensitive young men and women struggled and often fell into a desperate agony. The word hanmon (spiritual trouble and agony) represented this period of storm and stress. An extreme case of hanmon was that of a sceptic of seventeen years who killed himself by jumping into a great waterfall, leaving his last words inscribed on the trunk of a tree nearby, wherein he ridiculed human life as a meaningless trial not worth enduring, a riddle never to be solved by religion or philosophy.¹ In his eyes his fellow-beings who were living without any conviction in the real meaning of life were simply pitiable, and for him death was the only solution for not being a hypocrite or coward. This took place in April 1903; many young people were deeply moved, some admired his audacious consistency and followed his example. This was an extreme case, but the idea and mood shown in it were typical of the youth of that time, so far as the prevailing unrest was concerned.
In the tension of the spiritual atmosphere changes were of frequent occurrence. An extreme sceptic was often transformed into a sentimental pietist, a rationalist into a mystic. There were hardly any among those troubled hearts who did not pass through various stages of doubt and hope, despair and consolation. Buddha and Christ, Hōnen and Nichiren, and several other religious figures were reviewed in new lights, often in arbitrary subjective interpretations, mostly in melancholy self-introspection. Resort was also had to modern individualists, such as Tolstoi, Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, Ibsen. Instances of extreme sentiment and behaviour can be cited at length; there was lack of balance but there was the ardour of aspiration; the heart was over-sensitive but sincere and earnest to the utmost.
Among the typical representatives of the time, the first and most prominent was the case of Takayama, who had once been a champion of nationalistic Japanism and had denounced all religions as mere superstition. But the ideal leaning of his innate heart reasserted itself and led him in quite an opposite direction. He became a pronounced individualist, and confessed without reserve all his spiritual troubles, announcing himself to be in spiritual whirlpools. He became thus the mouthpiece of the troubled souls who were cherishing similar questions and passing through similar struggles.
Early in 1901 Takayama published an essay entitled “The Beautiful Life,” which aroused great enthusiasm among the younger generation and stirred the indignation of the conservatives. His idea expressed therein amounted to this, that man’s true destiny consists in a “beautiful life” lived according to pure human nature, free from the fetters of social convention and unhampered by ideas of interest and benefit. Life is valueless without sincerity, and sincerity can be secured only by freeing oneself from ulterior considerations, by simply following the voice of one’s own pure conscience, innate nature or “instinct,” as he called it. The Good is nothing but the Beautiful, wherein man lives an untrammelled life like the flowers in the fields. In thus identifying the Good and the Beautiful, Takayama spoke like a poet or a philosopher of the type of Plato; in denouncing social conventions and ethical theories, his voice was like that of Rousseau or Lao-tse; in the exaltation of individual freedom and of heroic audacity he became a “Nietzsche of Japan,” as he was called by his admirers.
But the Nietzschean “Superman” was too brutal to be the final ideal of Takayama’s tender heart. A man who had once been an admirer of Byron and Heine, and whose heart was moved by Chikamatsu’s love-tragedies, could not rest satisfied with the domination of a strong will. On the other hand, he who had advocated Japanism and had seen something of the nation’s spiritual heritage, could not remain for ever a mere individualist, or “egoist,” as he sometimes called himself. Moreover, some religious aspiration had been sown in his heart by his reading of the Bible, and a certain influence from his study of Buddhism remained in his soul. At last he found a spiritual guide who fulfilled all his demands and yearnings, national and individual, poetic and philosophical, religious and social. This was Nichiren, the prophet of the thirteenth century, whose influence wrought a thoroughgoing transformation in Takayama.
Converted to Nichiren’s religion, Takayama mastered within a short time the doctrine of his master and derived profound inspiration from his life, finding the clue to the understanding of Nichiren in the intrinsic connection between his teaching and personality. The first essay he published on the subject was a powerful study delineating Nichiren’s career in reference to his prophetic zeal, as shown in his conviction in the remote origin of his mission as revealed by Buddha himself. The next writing drew a parallel between Nichiren and Christ, especially in respect to their dignified aloofness from earthly powers, in which Takayama saw the kernel of veritable spiritual leadership. His most inspiring writing was a beautiful letter simulating Nichiren’s thought and reminiscences during his exile in Sado, in which the writer happily combined religious zeal and poetic imagination, the powerful style of an essayist with the melodious language of a poet. The letter became the beacon of a Nichirenite revival, to which flocked men and women, old and young, seeking for spiritual inspiration and charmed by Takayama’s style, as well as drawn by Nichiren’s strong personality. This awakening of interest in the prophet of the thirteenth century was not simply a religious movement but a many-sided upheaval of idealism, hero-worship, patriotism, romanticism, all combined in most of the enthusiasts. Indeed, Nichiren’s personality and teaching were so comprehensive that both individualists and nationalists, religious men and poets, could derive inspiration from them; in addition, Takayama’s own many-sided individuality and his candid veracity attracted many types of men and women to the Nichirenite revival instigated by him. The work done by this apostle of Nichiren within about a year, between his conversion in November 1901, and his death in December 1902, had far-reaching effects. Takayama never lost the fresh vigour of youth even in his illness. In every step of his varied career he was always straightforward and ahead of his time. Thus he was an embodiment of the youthful spirit of the age, in his struggle and his final aim. He stirred and inspired latent yearnings in the heart of youth, his early death made him ever one of them, and he became thus a pioneer of spiritual agitation to follow. His tomb stands in the precinct of a Nichirenite temple which commands a grand view of Mount Fuji across the Bay of Suruga, and the place has now become a place of pilgrimage, where the grandeur of nature also inspires the pilgrims in conjunction with Nichiren’s lofty ideals and Takayama’s enthusiasm for the prophet.
A Buddhist Pietist and a Christian Mystic
Parallel with the Nichirenite revival there was a pietist revival in Buddhism initiated by Kiyozawa [Manshi 清沢 満之 1863–1903]. He was a strong dialectician of the Hegelian type and had played a part in the philosophical rejuvenescence of Buddhism in the nineties. He was also a man of stoic temper and lived a very austere life, which could vie with that of any monk in rigour and purity. His spiritual struggles were not so striking as those of Takayama, yet we can discern in his writings and confessions how earnestly he tried to temper his logical mind with his inherited faith in the grace of Buddha—he was born in a Shinshū family. He did not undergo a marked conversion, yet it must have been a very difficult task for him to moderate his stoic rigour through the devout meekness of a pietist. He emphasized in his philosophical essays the antithesis between relative and absolute, particular and universal, and endeavoured to attain a higher synthesis of the two aspects of idea and life. His Hegelianism, though partly a result of his study under a Hegelian teacher, was not a product of mere intellect but involved a personal striving to transcend the limited self through absorption into the bosom of the Absolute. We see in his life an example of the conflict between intellect and sentiment; the effort to reconcile these two and to live in pious devotion. The final result he attained was a religion of absolute dependence on the grace of Buddha, implying the elimination of self. As a philosopher Kiyozawa spoke constantly of the finite and infinite.
The unity of the finite with the Infinite is attained either by the development of the internal capacity of the finite or by the assistance or grace of the external actual Reality. . . . The Infinite being the One, we must take it either for the One of potential capacity or for the One of actual reality . . . and so on. [2]
This is cited not so much for elucidating his idea as to show what kind of abstract thinker he was. It was a long process by which he transformed his abstract theory of the Absolute into a living religious faith. Ten years later we find him no longer a theorist but a devout believer in the “Infinite.”
The Infinite illumines all quarters and is embracing us into the same illumination. We experience that the Infinite Light (Amitābha) is guiding us and that we are living in delight within the Infinite Light. We believe that all other beings also are being embraced by the same Infinite Light and therefore that they are all our fellow beings. [3]
This life of devotion and delight he called the “Spiritual Life,” in which one eliminated self and freely admitted the grace of the Infinite Light. Thus Kiyozawa instilled his stoic virtue with devotional piety, he inspired his disciples with a religious ardour combined with calm self-renunciation, and he lived with them in monastic simplicity in the midst of the bustle of Tōkyō.
Kiyozawa did not much appear in public but his inspiration of his few disciples produced various types of men. All of them emphasized to an extreme degree the omnipotence of Buddha’s grace, the sinfulness and finiteness of man, and therefore the necessity of self-abnegating dependence on Buddha. All this was in accord with the tradition of Shinshū pietism, but these men were eminent, more than many other pietists, in fervent zeal and the personal element. Books and journals published by them contained meditations and prayers which might easily be taken for those of Christian pietists or revivalists. Kiyozawa died in 1903; his influence developed in various directions—simple piety, strong revivalism, working among the abandoned, and even wanton naturalism.
The fervour of personal religious experience penetrated into Christianity. While many Christians were engaged in the questions of creed and church polity, some went to the depth of religious faith of more or less mystic type. The clearest instance was that of a Christian mystic who “saw God” in a vision. This was Tsunashima [Ryōsen 綱島 梁川 1873–1907 see also HERE] who, having once been a thinker of rationalist tendency, became a Christian by himself after a period of struggle. He belonged to no Church but was attracted by the mystic side of Christianity, as he was also in sympathy with Oriental mysticism. Yet he was never content with mere contemplation but desired a personal realization of divine light. Finally he attained an intimate contact with divinity, in which he realized the ecstatic joy of a religious life, but when he reached this climax he was a sick man, and his last days were devoted to imparting the delight of his mystic experiences to others in talk and writing. He describes his experience thus:
Ah! That was indeed a serene night! I was writing something with my pen, by the light of a lamp. I cannot now know what was the commotion of my mind, but sudden and instantaneous was the change. In a moment my self had become a self which was no more my former self. The motion of the pen, the sound of writing on the paper, each and all, being transformed into an absolutely brand-new and unimaginable in terms of anything else, became an illumination before the eyes. This lasted only a few minutes, as I thought; yet beyond all words and descriptions was the invading consciousness for the time, something like a shock, or a bewilderment, or a rapture, as if I had met face to face a spiritual living being—a great being majestically arising out of the deep and serene abyss of infinity. . . .
In this way I have met God, seen God. To say meet or see is still too superficial and external to exhaust the consciousness of that moment. It was a confluence, a union of me with God; at that moment I myself became almost melted away into the reality of God. I became God. Thanks are due for that, direct and straight from God, this amazing and surprising consciousness has been given me. . . .
Blessed is one who believes without seeing, but more blessed is the one who believes by having seen. . . .
By thus having seen God, I have felt surging out of the depth a consciousness that “I am a son to God”—an incomparable glory on earth. . . . Ah! I am a son of God and I must live like a son of God. . . . Is not God, whom I have met face to face, abiding beside me and extending around me His invisible arms? [4]
This marked the third and highest moment of Tsunashima’s mystic vision during the year 1904. On its publication this confession aroused various criticisms but it also influenced other yearning hearts to a similar tendency. Though not many had so vivid an experience as Tsunashima’s, the spiritual undulation, so to speak, propagated itself without regard to distinction of creeds or denominations. Whatever the physiological or psychological explanation of a case like this may be, it embodied the yearnings of sensitive youth in a period of spiritual agitation. At any rate, Tsunashima left behind him a record of vital religious experience, ending his life in ecstatic joy in 1907.
Takayama, Kiyozawa, and Tsunashima, these three represented the stream of spiritual aspiration, each in his own characteristic career and manner. Takayama started with a sentimental romanticism and, having passed through nationalism, arrived at a fervent faith in Nichiren’s prophetic religion. Kiyozawa first struggled against self, a rigorous logical mind, and finally surrendered himself to the grace of the Infinite Light. Tsunashima also surrendered his rationalism to mystic experience and imparted his ecstatic joy to others. Kiyozawa’s inspiration was the gospel of piety and meekness and Tsunashima’s that of mystic immersion, while Takayama represented the spirit of effort and emulation.
The spiritual agitation or craving was by no means limited to these striking instances but was widespread among the youth of the time. Unions of young Buddhists came into prominence, with various principles ranging from rationalism to sentimentalism, some aiming at a philosophical reconstruction of Buddhism, others fighting against traditionalism, others forming little groups for pious devotion. Christian churches began anew to be thronged by young seekers after spiritual truth, and some of them proceeded to the audacious task of forming a new Christianity. Religious essays and books of devotion, both Buddhist and Christian, were published in increasing numbers. [5] The divinity of Christ was discussed in conjunction with the inherence of Buddha-nature in the human soul. “The bankruptcy of science” was supported by an “alliance of religion with art and poetry.” Spiritual faith was emphasized as against official ethics and conventional morality. Pleadings in favour of “naturalism” against traditionalism had a religious tinge or ran to an extreme of sensualism—of which we shall see more. On the other hand there was strong protest against the “degenerate effeminacy of religious mysticism” denounced as a neuro-pathic phenomenon. Yet the sway of religious craving was incontestably strong during the first decade of the present century. The writings of ancient Buddhist leaders, especially of Nichiren and Shinran, were re-published, the inspirations derived from them were viewed in a fresh light. Epictetus, Augustine, Eckhardt, Carlyle, Fechner, and others found translators or admirers. In the midst of this agitated atmosphere of religious spirit the war with Russia (1904–5) broke out, and though religious topics were more or less overshadowed for the time being, the spiritual struggle was destined to reappear in the years after the war and later, more and more in conjunction with the social agitation consequent upon the advancing industrialization of the country.
NOTES
[1] The scene was the sublime waterfall of Kegon near Nikkō, which hence became a favourite place for suicide. Another became famous later, the awesome crater of Mount Asama.
[2] Cited from the authorized translation of his Skeleton of a Philosophy of Religion, written in 1892.
[3] From an article written in 1902, The Illumination of Faith in Buddha’s Power.
[4] Tsunashima, Byōkan-roku (“Notes in a Sick-bed”), published in 1905, pp. 370–88. This book was followed by another, Kaikō-roku (“The Returning Light”), in which he expressed further his delight in mystic experiences and also reviewed various other mystics. Cf. Anesaki, The Religious and Social Problems of the Orient, pp. 18–20.
[5] The author may be allowed to state that his writings shared in the movement of the time. His study on the aspects of Buddha’s personality, historical and religious, though a scientific one, had some bearing on religious questions. Fukkatsu no Shōkō (the “Dawn of Resurrection”) stood for the fight of religious spirit against the over-emphasis on science for the interpretation of life. His diaries of a trip in Italy was perhaps the first book which made known St. Francis of Assisi to the Japanese public.
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