CHAPTER XXVIII. PATRIOTISM
The Duke's chef had served an Emperor with honor--the billiard room atDevenham Castle was the most comfortable room upon earth. The threemen who sat together upon a huge divan, the three men most powerful indirecting the councils of their country, felt a gentle wave of optimismstealing through their quickened blood. Nevertheless this was a seriousmatter which occupied their thoughts.
"We are becoming," the Prime Minister said, "much too modern. We arebecoming over-civilized out of any similitude to a nation of men ofblood and brawn."
"You are quoting some impossible person," Sir Edward Bransome declared.
"One is always quoting unconsciously," the Prime Minister admittedwith a sigh. "What I mean is that five hundred years ago we should havelocked this young man up in a room hung with black crape, and witha pleasant array of unfortunately extinct instruments we should havesucceeded, beyond a doubt, in extorting the truth from him."
"And if the truth were not satisfactory?" the Duke asked, lighting acigar.
"We should have endeavored to change his point of view," the PrimeMinister continued, "even if we had to change at the same time theoutline of his particularly graceful figure. The age of thumbscrews andthe rack was, after all, a very virile age. Just consider for a momentour positions--three of the greatest and most brilliant statesmen of ourday--and we can do very little save wait for this young man to declarehimself. We are the puppets with whom he plays. It rests with himwhether our names are written upon the scroll of fame or whether ouradministration is dismissed in half a dozen contemptuous words by thecoming historian. It rests with him whether our friend Bransome hereshall be proclaimed the greatest Foreign Minister that ever breathed,and whether I myself have a statue erected to me in Westminster Yard,which shall be crowned with a laurel wreath by patriotic young ladies onthe morning of my anniversary."
The Duke stretched himself out with a sigh of content. His cigar wasburning well, and the flavor of old Armignac lingered still upon hispalate.
"Come," he protested, "I think you exaggerate Maiyo's importance justa little, Haviland. Hesho seems excellently disposed towards us, and,after all, I should have thought his word would have had more weight inTokio than the word of a young man who is new to diplomacy, and whoseclaims to distinction seem to rest rather upon his soldiering and thefact that he is a cousin of the Emperor."
The Prime Minister sighed.
"Dear Duke," he said, "no one of us, not even myself, has ever done thatyoung man justice. To me he represents everything that is most strenuousand intellectual in Japanese manhood. The spirit of that wonderfulcountry runs like the elixir of life itself through his veins. Sincethe day he brought me his letter from the Emperor, I have watched himcarefully, and I believe I can honestly declare that not once in theseeighteen months has he looked away from his task, nor has he given toone single person even an inkling of the thoughts which have passedthrough his mind. He came back from the Continent, from Berlin, fromParis, from Petersburg, with a mass of acquired information which wouldhave made some of our blue-books read like Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales.He had made up his mind exactly what he thought of each country,of their political systems, of their social life, of their militaryimportance. He had them all weighed up in the hollow of his hand. He waswilling to talk as long as I, for instance, was willing to listen. Hespoke of everybody whom he had met and every place which he had visitedwithout reserve, and yet I guarantee that there is no person in Englandtoday, however much he may have talked with him, who knows in the leastwhat his true impressions are."
"Haviland is right," Bransome agreed. "Many a time I have caught myselfwondering, when he talks so easily about his travels, what the realthoughts are which lie at the back of his brain. We know, of course,what the object of those travels was. He went as no tourist. He wentwith a deep and solemn purpose always before him. He went to find outwhether there was any other European Power whose alliance would be amore advantageous thing for Japan than a continuation of their alliancewith us. Such a thing has never been mentioned or hinted at between us,but we know it all the same."
"I wonder," the Duke remarked, "whether we shall really get the truthout of him before he goes."
The Prime Minister shook his head.
"Look at him now teaching old Lady Saunderson how to hold her cue. Hesingled her out because she was the least attractive person playing,because no one took any particular notice of her, and every one seemeddisposed to let her go her own way! Those girls were all buzzing aroundhim as though he were something holy, but you see how gently he eludedthem! Watch what an interest she is taking in the game now. He has beenencouraging the poor old lady until her last few shots have been quitegood. That is Maiyo all the world over. I will wager that he is thinkingof nothing on earth at this moment but of making that poor old lady feelat her ease and enjoy her game. A stranger, looking on, would imaginehim to be just a kind-hearted, simple-minded fellow. Yet there is notone of us three who has wit enough to get a single word from him againsthis will. You shall see. There is an excellent opportunity here. Isuppose both of you read his speech at the Herrick Club last night?"
"I did," the Duke answered.
"And I," Bransome echoed. "It seemed to me that he spoke a little morefreely than usual."
"He went as near to censure as I have ever heard him when speaking ofany of the institutions of our country," the Prime Minister declared. "Iwill ask him about it directly we get the chance. You shall see how hewill evade the point."
"You will have to be quick if you mean to get hold of him," the Dukeremarked. "See, the game is over and there he goes with Penelope."
The Prime Minister rose to his feet and intercepted them on their way tothe door.
"Miss Morse," he said, "may we ransom the Prince? We want to talk tohim."
"Do you insinuate," she laughed, "that he is a captive of mine?"
"We are all captives of Miss Morse's," Bransome said with a bow, "andall enemies of Somerfield's."
Somerfield, hearing his name, came up to them. The Duchess, too,strolled over to the fire. The Prime Minister and Bransome returned withMaiyo towards the corner of the room where they had been sitting.
"Prince," the Prime Minister said, "we have been talking about yourspeech at the Herrick Club last night."
The Prince smiled a little gravely.
"Did I say too much?" he asked. "It all came as a surprise to me--thetoast and everything connected with it. I saw my name down to reply,and it seemed discourteous of me not to speak. But, as yet, I do notaltogether understand these functions. I did not altogether understand,for instance, how much I might say and how much I ought to leaveunsaid."
"We have read what you said," Bransome remarked. "What we should like tohear, if I may venture to say so, is what you left unsaid."
The Prince for a moment was thoughtful. Perhaps he remembered that thedays had passed when it was necessary for him to keep so jealously hisown counsel. Perhaps his natural love of the truth triumphed. He felt asudden longing to tell these people who had been kind to him the thingswhich he had seen amongst them, the things which only a stranger comingfresh to the country could perhaps fully comprehend.
"What I said was of little importance," the Prince remarked, "but Ifelt myself placed in a very difficult position. Before I knew what toexpect, I was listening to a glorification of the arms of my country atthe expense of Russia. I was being hailed as one of a nation who possessmilitary genius which had not been equalled since the days of Hannibaland Caesar. Many things of that sort were said, many things much tookind, many things which somehow it grieved me to listen to. And whenI stood up to reply, I felt that the few words which I must say wouldsound, perhaps, ungracious, but they must be said. It was one of thoseoccasions which seemed to call for the naked truth."
Penelope and the Duchess had joined the little group.
"May we stay?" the former asked. "I read every word of your speech,"she added, turning to the Prince. "Do tell us
why you spoke so severely,what it was that you objected to so strongly in General Ennison'sremarks?"
The Prince turned earnestly towards her.
"My dear young lady," he said, "all that I objected to was thisover-glorification of the feats of arms accomplished by us. Peopleover here did not understand. On the one side were the great armies ofRussia,--men drawn, all of them, from the ranks of the peasant, men oflow nerve force, men who were not many degrees better than animals. Theycame to fight against us because it was their business to fight, becausefor fighting they drew their scanty pay, their food, and their drink,and the clothes they wore. They fought because if they refused theyfaced the revolver bullets of their officers,--men like themselves,who also fought because it was their profession, because it was inthe traditions of their family, but who would, I think, have very muchpreferred disporting themselves in the dancing halls of their cities,drinking champagne with the ladies of their choice, or gambling withcards. I do not say that these were not brave men, all of them. I myselfsaw them face death by the hundreds, but the lust of battle was in theirveins then, the taste of blood upon their palates. We do not claim to becalled world conquerors because we overcame these men. If one could haveseen into the hearts of our own soldiers as they marched into battle,and seen also into the hearts of those others who lay there sullenlywaiting, one would not have wondered then. There was, indeed, nothingto wonder at. What we cannot make you understand over here is that everyJapanese soldier who crept across the bare plains or lay stretched inthe trenches, who loaded his rifle and shot and killed and waited fordeath,--every man felt something beating in his heart which those othersdid not feel. We have no great army, Mr. Haviland, but what we have isa great nation who have things beating in their heart the knowledge ofwhich seems somehow to have grown cold amongst you Western people. Theboy is born with it; it is there in his very soul, as dear to him as thelittle home where he lives, the blossoming trees under which he plays.It leads him to the rifle and the drill ground as naturally as the boysof your country turn to the cricket fields and the football ground. Overhere you call that spirit patriotism. It was something which beat inthe heart of every one of those hundreds of thousands of men, somethingwhich kept their eyes clear and bright as they marched into battle,which made them look Death itself in the face, and fight even whilethe blackness crept over them. You see, your own people have so manyinterests, so many excitements, so much to distract. With us it is notso. In the heart of the Japanese comes the love of his parents, the loveof his wife and children, and, deepest, perhaps, of all the emotions heknows, the strong magnificent background to his life, the love of thecountry which bore him, which shelters them. It is for his home hefights, for his simple joys amongst those who are dear to him, for thegreat mysterious love of the Motherland. Forgive me if I have expressedmyself badly, have repeated myself often. It is a matter which I find itso hard to talk about, so hard here to make you understand."
"But you must not think, Prince, that we over here are wholly lacking inthat same instinct," the Duke said. "Remember our South African war, andthe men who came to arms and rallied round the flag when their serviceswere needed."
"I do remember that," the Prince answered. "I wish that I could speakof it in other terms. Yet it seems to me that I must speak as I findthings. You say that the men came to arms. They did, but how? Untrained,unskilled in carrying weapons, they rushed across the seas to bethe sport of the farmers who cut them off or shot them down, to be ahindrance in the way of the mercenaries who fought for you. Yes, yousay they rallied to the call! What brought them? Excitement, necessity,necessities of their social standing, bravado, cheap heroism--any oneof these. But I tell you that patriotism as we understand it is a deeperthing. In the land where it flourishes there is no great pre-eminence inwhat you call sports or games. It does not come like a whirlwind on thewings of disaster. It grows with the limbs and the heart of the boy,grows with his muscles and his brawn. It is part of his conscience,part of his religion. As he realizes that he has a country of his ownto protect, a dear, precious heritage come down to him through countlessages, so he learns that it is his sacred duty to know how to do hisshare in defending it. The spare time of our youth, Mr. Haviland, isspent learning to shoot, to scout, to bear hardships, to acquire thearts of war. I tell you that there was not one general who went with ourtroops to Manchuria, but a hundred thousand. We have no great army. Weare a nation of men whose religion it is to fight when their country'swelfare is threatened."
There was a short silence. The Prime Minister and Bransome exchangedrapid glances.
"These, then," Penelope said slowly, "were the things you left unsaid."
The Prince raised his hand a little--a deprecatory gesture.
"Perhaps even now," he said, "it was scarcely courteous of me to saythem, only I know that they come to you as no new thing. There are manyof your countrymen who are speaking to you now in the Press as I, astranger, have spoken. Sometimes it is harder to believe one of your ownfamily. That is why I have dared to say so much,--I, a foreigner, eagerand anxious only to observe and to learn. I think, perhaps, that it isto such that the truth comes easiest."
Of a purpose, the three men who were there said nothing. The Princeoffered Penelope his arm.
"I will not be disappointed," he said. "You promised that you would showme the palm garden. I have talked too much."
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