August 9, 1895, was “Temperance day” at the Methodist camp meeting, held at Willimantic, Conn. I attended in the afternoon. After an address from Mrs. Ellis on the subject of temperance, a young man was introduced to the audience as a “brother from Japan, who is here in America striving to get an education, to go back to his people and tell them of Jesus.” He gave a short sketch of his life, which was very interesting. I will try to use his language in repeating it to the readers of this paper:—
A BUDDHIST TEMPLE.
“I will take my text this afternoon from Matt. 10:37, 38: ‘He that loveth father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me; and he that loveth son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me. And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after Me, is not worthy of Me.’ People talk of living happy lives, but how many really know what true happiness is? Is it in having friends? I had plenty of them in Japan but was not happy. If happiness was to be found in riches, surely I ought to have been happy, for my father was very wealthy. We can only be happy when we have the love of Jesus in our hearts.
“As I said before, my father was very wealthy. His house is filled with servants. Every child had a servant, and I, being the oldest, had two—one to go to school with me, and one to wait on me at home. I never knew what it was to work. I was sent away to school to study to be a Buddhist priest. I was there three years. Part of my duty was to offer sacrifices to the gods in the temple. Sometimes I would eat the food instead of giving it to the idols, and tell the people that the gods ate it. I was getting to be an awful bad boy.
“One day while looking at all those idols, I discovered one without a head. Probably it had fallen sometime, and broken it off. I began to question like this: If these gods have the power to kill us and to protect us, why have they not power to keep their heads on? How can they eat without a mouth? Why don’t they have feet, hands, eyes, and mouths as we have? I wrote to father and told him I was tired of school. I didn’t want to be a priest, I wanted to go home. But I had to stay. After a while father wrote me that he had changed his mind, and I might come home and study for an American officer. As father was an influential man, he had started a private school, to which I was sent. I didn’t study much, I was a regular terror, and would tease the boys and girls every chance I could get.
“One day the professor sent for me to come to his room. I went expecting to get a lecture. After having some cake and tea (you know in Japan you must have cake and tea whatever house you go into), the professor said, ‘Let us pray.’ We knelt down, and I supposed he was going to pray the same as we did, for three hours steady, repeating the same old prayer until I was tired out. I thought first I’d try shaking him, but he was too big for me. Then I concluded I would hide away from him. As I got up to go and hide, I saw tears rolling down his cheeks, and I thought, That man must be in earnest; I’ll see what he has to say. He was praying that Jesus might come into my heart, that I might know of his love. In a few minutes he got up and asked me if I had knelt all the time. This bad boy said, ‘Yes, sir.’ Then he began to tell me about Jesus in heaven as being the only true God. He gave me a copy of the New Testament to read. I opened to Matthew about the genealogy of Christ. Those words were awful long and dry in our language. I told the professor I didn’t like that book. I turned the leaves to find some picture, but not a picture did I find. The professor told me to take the book home with me and read it. I didn’t read it very much at first.
“In our family was an idol that was supposed to protect us, especially my father. It was the presence of that god that made father influential. At his death the god would care for me. My father told me that 1,200 years ago this idol came down from heaven and rested on a rock three miles from home. It was taken and put in the temple. After a while a new temple was built, seven miles from home, and the idol removed from the old to the new temple. The god, being dissatisfied with its new home, went back to the old temple one night, and had stayed with us ever since. One morning after father had left the temple, I made up my mind I would find out if that god walked seven miles in one night. I went into the temple trembling (as I had been taught to reverence the idols), walked up to this god and said, ‘Excuse me.’ No answer. Then I reached out my trembling hand, took the idol, and laid it on the floor. I knelt in front of it and said: ‘O god, they tell me you walked seven miles in one night. Did you do it?’ Still no answer. ‘O god, I won’t ask you to travel seven miles, but if you have that power, go back to your place.’ But the god never moved. I entreated it to go back, telling it that I was the eldest son and had a right in my father’s absence to ask that petition. With all my talking the idol wouldn’t move.
“Then I began to lose my faith in the gods. I took a piece of chalk and drew a mark around the idol, so I could tell in the morning whether it had moved or not. The next morning father and I went to the temple. I looked for the god the first thing. There it was, within the circle; it hadn’t budged an inch. Father didn’t see it on the floor and almost stepped on it. I didn’t care if the old idol was used for a football, but out of regard for father’s feelings I said, ‘Look out, father, you’ll step on the god.’ He jumped back, lifted his hands, and exclaimed: ‘Mother is going to die. The god is leaving us. Something terrible is going to happen. Run for the high priest, that he may beseech the god to stay.’ I wanted to laugh, for I knew the god hadn’t moved.
“I ran for the high priest. When I told him what was wanted, he said: ‘What have you done to offend the god? Have you touched him? I wasn’t George Washington (O, I wished I was!) so this bad boy said, ‘No, sir.’ The priest and father prayed a long while to the idol; then the honor of putting it back in its place was given to me, as I had studied to be a priest. During the whole of it I had to bite my little finger to keep from laughing. My faith in idols then was gone.
“I studied the New Testament all the time. The professor introduced me to a missionary, and there I learned to love Jesus, and openly confessed him. Since that time I have had nothing but persecution. My father heard that I had confessed Jesus, and one night sent for me to come to him. He said: ‘Now I am going to ask you a question. Take plenty of time and think well before you answer. Have you accepted Jesus and the rest of that heathen doctrine?’ (You people12call us heathen; but in Japan we call you heathen). I would rather you would take that sword and pierce me through the heart than to have you say, Yes. If it is true, I shall have to disinherit you. To-morrow morning you must leave my house.’ Think of it, my friends. It was a question of life or death to me. Should I accept or reject Jesus? I asked father to give me the night to think of it. He seemed pleased at that, and said, ‘O my son, I know you won’t leave me!’”
“I went to bed but not to sleep. I prayed Jesus to help and care for me. I opened my Testament and read that Jesus had no home, no place even to lay his head; that if we loved father or mother more than Jesus we were not worthy of him. Again I bowed in prayer, promising my Master that I would be faithful to him, come what would. In the morning I told father that I loved Jesus more than my home. I never could believe in the gods again. I should go to America, and learn about the true God, and come back and tell my people about him.
“He took me by the hand and said, ‘O my son, how you pain me by your words! How it grieves me to send you from me, but I must!’ He led me into the temple, up to the very god I had moved, and prayed for me. Then he told me that the god had revealed to him that I was to go off in a great boat. I would get out to a certain place, where there were two rocks like horns. By these rocks was a great hole, where the boat would sink, and I never would live to get to land.
“So I left home and traveled 200 miles, where I became a servant for a missionary. I knew nothing about work, but was set to blacking stoves and scrubbing floors. All the time I prayed to Jesus to let me go to America, that I might learn of him. The missionary gave me Bibles to sell. In that way I earned money enough to pay my way here, if I would come in the steerage of the vessel, with other foreigners. Being brought up nicer than they, I didn’t like their company, so kept by myself as much as I could. I read my Testament in the dim light until I hurt my eyes and had to stop. Then I was taken sick. For two weeks no one came near me. I almost forsook God. I began to think perhaps after all my father was right, and I never should see land again. But the words of my Saviour came to me; I prayed and was strengthened.
“When I reached New York, I was without a cent of money, could not speak a word in this language, and so homesick. A man set me to work shoveling coal at the depot. At night he gave me a room, without a bed or a stove. It was cold, too, the 10th of January. I stayed there a year. God cared for me. No one in your Christian country asked me to go to church or Sunday school. Then I went to work for a farmer. He told me to milk the cow. We have cows in Japan, but do not milk them or make any butter, so I knew nothing about milking cows. I asked Jesus to help me, took the milking chair, and went on the wrong side of the cow and began milking. The cow was very patient with me, but not a drop of milk did I get. After a while she kicked me over. The boys began to laugh and swear. When the man came, he swore at me. Now in Japan boys never swear. As the man used one particular word very often, I thought he said, ‘Thank you.’ Soon I learned to say it.
“A missionary lady heard of me and one night invited me to come to her house and take tea at six o’clock. I thought they meant I needn’t get up until six o’clock the next morning, but I soon found out my mistake. Then they made me understand I was to eat supper that night with the lady at her house; so I went. When they passed the food to me, I wanted to thank her in English, and used the word I had learned. The lady said, ‘O! O!’ and tried to stop me. But I thought she was saying, ‘Never mind, never mind; we are too glad to do it for you,’ and used the word all the more. The gentleman took me into a room and showed me a dictionary in my own language and one in English. There I found that the word I thought was ‘thank you’ in your language was the name of God. My friends, I can’t tell you how grieved I was. I prayed to Jesus to forgive, and begged the lady’s pardon as best I could.
“The first words I learned in your Christian country were to swear. Did you ever thank God for the privilege you have to worship him? Did you ever consider it a privilege to worship him? My prayer is that I may get an education and go back to Japan and convince my father and my people that there is a true God. I feel that it was through the prayers of the people here in America that God touched my heart to enter into his work. I have taken more time than I ought. God has given you much, and much will be required of you.”
As he took his seat among the speakers on the platform, I thought, How many of us would have stood the test?
