r methods of government; but
these men formed the exception, not the rule. They were individuals
and not the system under which the people lived. It was always a
matter of chance whether or not such men were at the head of affairs,
for the people did not dream of the possibility of having any voice in
their selection. The structure of society was and always had been
absolute militarism. Even under the most benevolent rulers the use of
cruel torture, not only on convicted criminals, but on all suspected
of crime, was customary. Those in authority might personally set a
good example, but they did not modify the system. They owned not only
the soil but practically the laborers also, for these could not leave
their homes in search of others that were better. They were serfs, if
not slaves, and the system did not tend to raise the standard of life
or education, of manhood or womanhood among the people. The happiness
of the people in such times was due in part to their essential
inhumanity of heart and lack of sympathy with suffering and sorrow.
Each individual bore his own sorrow and pain alone. The community, as
such, did not distress itself over individuals who suffered. Sympathy,
in its full meaning, was unknown in Old Japan. The barbarous custom of
casting out the leper from the home, to wander a lonely exile, living
on the charity of strangers, is not unknown even to this day. We are
told that in past times the "people were governed by such strong
aversion to the sight of sickness that travelers were often left to
die by the roadside from thirst, hunger, or disease; and householders
even went the length of thrusting out of doors and abandoning to utter
destitution servants who suffered from chronic maladies." So universal
was this heartlessness that the government at one time issued
proclamations against the practices it allowed. "Whenever an epidemic
occurred the number of deaths was enormous." Seven men of the outcast,
"the Eta," class were authoritatively declared equal in value to one
common man. Beggars were technically called "hi-nin," "not men."

Those who descant on the happiness of Old Japan commit the great error
of overlooking all these sad features of life, and of fixing their
attention exclusively on the one feature of the childlike, not to say
childish, lightness of heart of the common people. Such writers are
thus led to pronounce the past better than the present time. They also
overlook the profound happ