Pathway to Japanese Literature

My lecture bears the title “東西交通史上より觀たる日本の開發” (Japan’s Development Viewed Through the History of East-West Exchange). While other lecturers predominantly address Japan during or following its Opening of the Country, my focus lies rather on the preceding era—specifically elucidating how our Japan became known to the world prior to reaching that juncture of openness.

Now then, though our Japan has traversed some twenty-six centuries since its founding and stands recognized among the world’s ancient nations, antiquity alone forms no basis for national pride. What merits pride, I contend, lies precisely in this paradox: that while ancient, Japan remains perpetually new. For through these twenty-six hundred years since its founding—years spent in ceaseless development and progress—Japan emerges not as a relic of age but as a nation ever renewed.

This constitutes Japan’s defining trait. Ancient nations inevitably face epochs where their fortunes stagnate or succumb to senescent decline—yet our Japan alone has sustained unbroken advancement. To what do we owe this singular continuity? It resides in our people’s unflagging engagement with foreign lands, their relentless assimilation of novel cultures and knowledge through every encounter.

Originally, when viewed through the lens of global transportation in ancient times, Japan stood as what might be termed an isolated island in distant seas - occupying a position of extreme logistical inconvenience.

Global exchange between East and West existed since ancient times, having opened nearly two thousand years ago, with the Greeks having long since ventured into Eastern regions.
However, what was termed "the East" in those days extended only as far as China; they did not reach Japan.
Japan initiated exchanges with distant European nations a thousand or even fifteen hundred years later than China.
Though Japan occupied such an inconvenient geographical position when viewed through the lens of global connectivity, its people made concerted efforts to assimilate new cultures and knowledge whenever opportunities for foreign contact arose. In this regard, I believe they differed markedly in character from the Koreans and Chinese.
The Chinese and Korean peoples of antiquity held far more advantageous positions than Japan in terms of geographical accessibility. Yet their zeal for adopting foreign knowledge and culture paled in comparison to that of the Japanese.
The Japanese people demonstrated far greater enthusiasm than their Chinese and Korean counterparts in assimilating foreign innovations and cultural elements.
I maintain this constitutes the principal reason why Japan alone in East Asia has attained its current position of preeminence.

Since opening exchanges with European and American countries, our nation actively imported Western cultural artifacts and knowledge, particularly during the Meiji era.
This enthusiasm became the object of global admiration; however, this attitude was not limited solely to Western cultural artifacts nor confined to the Meiji era.
The principle articulated in one of the Five Articles of the Imperial Oath of the Restoration—to seek knowledge throughout the world and vigorously promote the imperial foundation—must be recognized as our nation’s traditional grand policy from antiquity.
In the era when we engaged with Tang China, the fervent attitude with which we imported Chinese cultural artifacts, as well as that with which we imported knowledge from the far west during the Portuguese arrival period, showed no inferiority compared to that of the Meiji era.
I intend to present several concrete examples to prove this.

During the Tang era, there was a Buddhist sect newly transmitted to China called the Hossō School.
This was the new sect that the renowned Xuanzang first brought back to China from India in 645 CE during the reign of Emperor Taizong of Tang.
However, at that time, a monk named Dōshō—who was studying in China from Japan—immediately studied this new sect under Xuanzang and transmitted it to Japan.
Dōshō transmitted the Hossō School to our country during the reign of Emperor Kōtoku in 653 CE.
In other words, the Hossō School was newly transmitted from India to China, and within less than eight years, this new sect had already been imported to Japan.

If I may speak regarding Confucianism, among Confucian classics there exists the Classic of Filial Piety.
This Classic of Filial Piety was revered throughout Chinese dynasties, but it was during the Tang era that it received the highest regard. In the third year of Emperor Xuanzong’s Tianbao era (744 CE), an imperial edict was issued commanding that every household in the realm must keep one copy of the Classic and study it morning and evening.
This new system was soon adopted in our country, and in 757 CE during Emperor Shōtoku’s reign, an imperial edict was issued in our nation as well, commanding that every household keep one copy of the Classic of Filial Piety and study it morning and evening.
It was precisely in the thirteenth year that this new Tang system was implemented in our country.

Shifting focus to astronomy, we find the Dayan Calendar—a renowned calendar created during the Tang era. This Dayan Calendar had been adopted as a new official calendar by the Tang court during Emperor Xuanzong’s reign, specifically from the sixteenth year of the Kaiyuan era (728 CE). However, Kibi no Makibi—then studying in China—learned of this calendar’s exceptional merits and introduced it to our country upon his return. This occurred during Emperor Shōmu’s reign in 734 CE, precisely six years after its adoption in Tang China. Subsequently, when Emperor Junnin’s reign began in 763 CE, this Dayan Calendar was adopted by our imperial court in the same manner as in Tang China, thereafter remaining established as Japan’s official calendar for approximately a century.

In this manner—whether in religion, Confucianism, astronomy, or any field—whenever superior new developments emerged, they were promptly imported into our country. When considering the transportation challenges of that era through comparative analysis, durations such as eight years, thirteen years, or six years would equate to scarcely half a year or perhaps one year by modern standards. As you are all aware, travel between Japan and China during the Tang period presented extraordinary difficulties. They ventured forth in small sailing vessels devoid of compasses—navigating by uncertain bearings through treacherous seas where shipwrecks claimed one in every three voyages—truly gambling their lives with each expedition. Consequently, even the vessels dispatched by our imperial court for Japanese Missions to Tang China sailed only once every five years at best, or more commonly once per decade. Yet despite these adversities, Tang China's new institutions, cultural artifacts, religious teachings, and scholarly knowledge reached our shores within six, eight, or thirteen years of their creation. Such feats lay beyond the reach of other nations' peoples; contrasting this with the Korean case renders the distinction perfectly clear.

Korea during the Tang era coincided precisely with the period of Silla; however, when compared to Japan, this Silla enjoyed far more convenient transportation links with China. First, their missions were continuous, and they generally sent envoys to the Tang court approximately every one or two years. Nevertheless, in their assimilation of new cultures and new knowledge, they were so negligent that they could not be compared to Japan at all. For example, take the aforementioned Hossō School. Although the Hossō School's transmission to China predated Silla's unification, Woncheuk—a monk from Silla studying in Chang'an at that time—while receiving instruction in this new religion's profound doctrines from Xuanzang around the same period as our Dōshō, did not import them to his homeland. The era when the Hossō School was transmitted to Silla cannot be stated with precision, but I believe it was considerably later than in Japan—likely delayed by approximately a hundred years. Although the Classic of Filial Piety had been transmitted to Korea at an early stage, systems such as that of the Tang Kaiyuan era—which required every household in the realm to keep one copy—were ultimately never implemented in Korea. Moreover, while it can be inferred that Silla’s calendar at the time was highly imperfect, even after the superior Dayan Calendar was created, the Silla government ultimately never adopted it. Despite Silla’s frequent and convenient exchanges with China, they showed such lack of enthusiasm in importing new cultures and new knowledge that they cannot possibly be discussed on equal terms with our nation.

Incidentally, I would note that this Dayan Calendar was not only the most outstanding calendar ever created in China but also one sufficiently excellent to be proudly presented to the world.
This calendar was produced by China's renowned monk Yixing during the Kaiyuan era of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang.
The calendar initially used in the early Kaiyuan era had been the Linde Calendar—created by the famous Li Chunfeng in 665 CE during the second year of Emperor Gaozong of Tang's Linde era—but by the Kaiyuan period, this Linde Calendar had grown inaccurate, resulting in discrepancies between its predictions and actual celestial movements. Solar eclipses failed to materialize on dates recorded in its tables, among various other inconveniences, creating recognition of the need for calendar reform.

Indian astronomers had long been employed at the Tang astronomical observatory. When momentum for calendar reform matured during Emperor Xuanzong's reign, Gautama Siddhārtha—an Indian astronomer holding the position of Director of the Grand Astrologer (equivalent to later observatory chiefs)—determined he must not miss this opportunity to demonstrate Indian calendrical prowess. In the sixth year of the Kaiyuan era (718 CE), he translated the Indian calendar into Chinese and published the Jiuzhi Calendar.
Jiuzhi is a Japanese translation of the Sanskrit term Navagrâha.
Nava means the number nine, while Grâha originally signifies "to grasp" or "to seize," though its essential meaning was extended to also denote planetary bodies.
From the concept that planetary bodies grasp and control human destiny, they are also referred to as Grâha.
Indian astronomy is based on nine Grâha—the sun, moon, Mercury, Mars, Jupiter, Venus, Saturn, and two others—which is why their calendar was called the Jiuzhi Calendar or Nine Luminaries Calendar.

Thus when Gautama Siddhārtha, an Indian astronomer, translated the Jiuzhi Calendar into Chinese during the sixth year of Emperor Xuanzong's Kaiyuan era (718 CE) to serve as reference material for calendar reform, in the following year—the seventh year of Kaiyuan (719 CE)—the king of Tokhara in Central Asia, apparently having heard rumors of Tang's calendar reforms, sent a monk skilled in astronomy from his country to Chang'an and petitioned to assist with the calendar revision.
In the same year, the government of Kapisa—a region corresponding to present-day Afghanistan—also submitted astronomical documents to the Tang court.
When discussions of calendar reform commenced at the Tang court, Central Asian Persian astronomy, Indian astronomy, and traditional Chinese astronomy became locked in a three-way competition to demonstrate their superiority.
Amidst this contention, China produced a great astronomer named Yixing who spent six years from the ninth year of Kaiyuan (721 CE) to the fifteenth year (727 CE) creating the most complete Dayan Calendar.
Yixing died in the fifteenth year of Kaiyuan at the young age of forty-five; however, after his death, through various experiments and verifications, the Dayan Calendar was proven to be the most excellent, leading to its adoption by the Tang court from the sixteenth year of Kaiyuan onward, and subsequently by our country as well.

Regarding the substance of this Dayan Calendar, Western astronomers conducted research from quite early on, and our nation's astronomers also studied it with considerable depth. According to the research of a certain astronomer friend of mine, this Dayan Calendar was an exceptionally excellent one, and it was said to be not significantly inferior when compared to the solar calendar in use today. According to what I heard from a friend of mine, when the Dayan Calendar and the current solar calendar were compared, they were as close as follows.

Dayan Calendar Solar Calendar

Solar Year 365.2444 days 365.2422 days

Lunar Month 29.53059 days 29.530588 days

In other words, whether we speak of measuring a year's length or a month's length, both measurements were so close as to be nearly identical.
Considering this Dayan Calendar was created twelve hundred years ago in an era of manifold inconveniences, should its precision not be deemed astonishing?

Thus Yixing's reputation among Western astronomers became extraordinary. At the entrance to Paris' famed Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève in France, approximately thirty-three names of history's most outstanding scientists are carved.
Among these thirty-three names appears Yixing—rendered in modern Chinese pronunciation as Y-hsing—chiseled into the stone.
It is said his name alone represents the Orient among Western scientific luminaries like Copernicus and Newton, shining with unparalleled brilliance.
Yet though this superior Dayan Calendar created by such a genius was soon brought to Japan and adopted, Silla ultimately rejected it.
Does this single fact not lay bare the stark contrast in zeal between these two nations' people toward new cultures and new knowledge?

Moving forward about eight centuries, we find the same pattern demonstrated when the Portuguese introduced Western-style firearms to East Asia.
Here too it was proven that the Japanese showed far greater enthusiasm than the Chinese in assimilating new knowledge.
The gunpowder indispensable to firearms had been invented in China during the Northern Song Dynasty some nine hundred years prior, with weapons utilizing this explosive first appearing on battlefields from the Southern Song era onward.

The term *hō* (artillery/cannon) originally referred to a machine that launched stones, and in China, such devices had been used in warfare since the Qin-Han era, if not earlier. It employed a lever-operated mechanism resembling a well bucket to hurl large stones into enemy positions. When gunpowder was invented and began being weaponized, they would fill iron vessels with this compound, ignite them, and use the same mechanism to launch these containers into enemy ranks where they would explode. To distinguish these from conventional stone-throwing artillery, people called them both *teppō* (firearm) and *kahō* (fire cannon). This constitutes the essential definition of a firearm. Such weapons saw battlefield use in China from the Southern Song through the Yuan era.

When Kublai Khan of the Yuan invaded our country during the Kōan 4 campaign (1281 CE), the Mongol armies employed these new weapons called firearms, causing significant distress to our forces.
Though the firearms of that era likely lacked substantial destructive power in reality, being entirely novel and unprecedented weapons to the Japanese people, they appear to have exerted psychological effects surpassing their actual efficacy, as evidenced in period accounts:

They would violently propel what they termed firearms—iron projectiles encased in explosive fire.
Upon impact and detonation, flames erupted outward while smoke obscured visibility.
The thunderous reports bewildered minds, dissolved resolve, clouded vision, and deafened ears, rendering orientation impossible.
Consequently, many fell struck by these attacks.

From these accounts, one could perceive the state of difficulty and panic our soldiers experienced under the enemy’s firearm attacks.

Gunpowder invented in China was transmitted to Europe during the Mongol era.
Although there had long been various theories regarding this, today it is generally recognized that gunpowder was transmitted from the East to Europe.
Shortly after gunpowder was transmitted, new-style firearms utilizing it—namely metal-barreled firearms—were manufactured and came to be used in warfare.
This new-style firearm was considerably more effective compared to China’s old-style firearms, but as it was gradually improved further, by the early sixteenth century, it became an exceptionally effective weapon, bringing about a shift in Europe’s conventional tactics.

In Tenbun 12 (1543 CE), around the mid-16th century, Portuguese people came to Tanegashima in Ōsumi and introduced new-style firearms.
Given that this was precisely during the Sengoku period, these imported new weapons—matchlocks—spread like wildfire across Japan.
If one believes the records of Fernão Mendes Pinto—the Portuguese figure most relevant to the history of firearms transmission in our country—by around 1556, a mere thirteen years after new-style firearms were introduced to our nation, these weapons had spread across Japan at an astonishing rate. In Fucheo of Bungo (present-day Ōita’s castle town) alone, there existed thirty thousand matchlocks, and if one were to total those across all of Japan, it is said that approximately three hundred thousand matchlocks were being used.
In just thirteen years, this was the state of affairs.
This occurred because Japanese people learned firearms manufacturing methods from the Portuguese and vigorously produced them—even Pinto marveled at their zeal in adopting new-style weapons.
While the numbers of firearms reported by Pinto may be temporarily set aside as questionable, there can be no doubt that the enthusiasm with which Japanese people of that era utilized new-style weapons was such as to impress foreigners.

When fifty years had passed since new-style firearms were introduced to our country in Tenbun 12 (1543 CE), the Bunroku era began in 1592 CE, and Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s campaign against Korea commenced.
By this time, new-style firearms had become our country's most formidable weapon.
At that time, Koreans remained entirely ignorant of new-style firearms' usage.
The Chinese had made contact with the Portuguese some thirty years earlier than we Japanese did and consequently should have understood these firearms' efficacy before our countrymen did. Yet owing to their characteristic conservative disposition, they failed to embrace this new armament with the zeal our people demonstrated.
Thus even when the Bunroku Korean campaign commenced, imported new-style firearms had still not penetrated China's interior.
Particularly the Ming forces from Liaodong in northern China deployed to Korea proved even less acquainted with new-style firearms than the Koreans themselves.
Consequently, both Korean people and Ming people found themselves thoroughly overwhelmed by our army's new-style firearms.

The tactics of the Japanese military at that time were to first strike with firearms in a thunderous blast. By thus intimidating the enemy—while they were startled and in disarray—[they] would slash about with Japanese swords. This was the tactic of the Japanese military.

Therefore, when examining records from this era written by Chinese and Korean people, all were utterly confounded by these two weapons of Japan: firearms and swords.
While there may have been various reasons why our army achieved victory in the Bunroku Campaign against Korea, we must certainly recognize that the utilization of these new-style firearms constituted one of its principal causes.
In the Kōan Campaign three hundred years earlier, Japan had been sorely afflicted by old-style firearms wielded by the Mongol-Goryeo allied forces; yet three hundred years later in the Bunroku Campaign, Japan thoroughly routed the Ming-Korean allied forces with new-style firearms in a complete reversal of fortunes.
This meant they effectively repaid through firearms themselves the suffering those weapons had inflicted.
This too was ultimately nothing but the result of our countrymen welcoming and utilizing new weapons with far greater enthusiasm than the Chinese people.
Through these two or three examples alone, I believe we may perceive how our countrymen—more enthusiastically than the Chinese and Korean people—had since ancient times sought knowledge overseas and adopted foreign strengths.

Now returning to our main subject and tracing our country's historical interactions with foreign nations, the foremost was with the Korean Peninsula, followed by exchanges with the Chinese mainland.
Intercourse with China commenced during the Han era and reached its zenith in the Sui-Tang period.
Thus while our nation actively engaged with China, it did not establish direct relations with countries west of China.
Yet China—particularly Tang dynasty China—stood as both the cultural and diplomatic center of the world. As people from all foreign lands congregated there, our countrymen found ample opportunities to interact with distant Westerners within China itself, without needing to venture westward directly.

During the Tang era, the most active in global trade were Arab merchants; these Arab merchants held trade dominance from Africa's western edge to Asia's eastern extremity—nearly every corner of the Old World—with a substantial number having gathered and settled in southern China.
Particularly Yangzhou, a city near the Yangtze River's mouth through which Japanese missions to Tang China had to pass, hosted thousands of resident Arab merchants.
Naturally, Arab merchants frequently interacted with Japanese people in China, thereby gaining knowledge about Japan.

The Arab merchants of that time—that is, the Muslims—transmitted our country’s name as *Wâkwâk*.
Needless to say, *Wâkwâk* was a phonetic transliteration of Wa-koku.
The Chinese people had long called our country Wa-koku.
The Tang-era Chinese people similarly referred to our country as Wa-koku.
Though the national appellation "Japan" had already been established by the Tang era—this being a name created by the Japanese themselves—the Chinese people of that period seldom used it.
The Tang-era Chinese people persistently called our country Wa-koku.
Even Arab merchants who did not directly interact with our country but learned its name through Chinese intermediaries in China exhibited nothing strange in calling it Wa-koku like their informants.
Since Tang-era Chinese people would have pronounced Wa-koku as "Wa-kwok," the Arab merchants who heard and relayed this term likely corrupted it into "*Wâkwâk*."

The first appearance of this *Wâkwâk*—that is, our country’s appellation of Wa-koku—in Arab records dated to the mid-ninth century, specifically around 850 CE during the late Tang period, in a geographical work compiled by a man named Ibn Khordâdbeh; within this geographical text could be found the following account.

To the east of China lay an archipelago bearing the country’s appellation known as *Wâkwâk*. It was a land of extraordinary gold abundance—"due to the abundance of gold"—where the people used gold even for the chains that tethered their domesticated dogs and the collars of their domesticated monkeys. They wore coats inlaid with gold.

This marks the first article introducing our country in West Asian records.
The article that spread rumors of our country’s abundant gold remains unclear in its factual basis.
However, since ancient times there had been a legend circulating among Greeks and Indians of a land in the eastern part of the world that produced gold in abundance; whether this was conflated with Wakwak—that is, our country—or whether during the Tang and Song eras, when Japan’s industries were still underdeveloped, our countrymen who traveled to China for trade around the late Tang period used gold, silver, or placer gold, thereby giving rise to such rumors—the circumstances surrounding this remain not entirely clear.

In Mohammedan records following Ibn Khordâdbeh’s geographical work, there were quite a number of articles concerning Wakwak—some of which presented rather ambiguous accounts of Wakwak’s location—but nevertheless, through these Mohammedan records, the country of Wakwak came to be transmitted as a mysterious kind of treasure island abundant in gold.
The renowned Arabian *Thousand and One Nights*—commonly referred to as *Arabian Nights*—also contains accounts of Wakwak Island.
Within *The Thousand and One Nights* there exists the tale of overseas explorations by a man named Sindbâd.
Sindbâd was a man of the early ninth century CE during the era of Harun al-Rashid—the renowned caliph of the Mohammedan state—who, seeking to make his fortune, left the capital city of Baghdad behind and attempted to voyage to Wakwak, the treasure island of the world. The tale of his encounters with various perils along the way forms part of his overseas exploration accounts.
As is customary with tales of this kind—replete with boastful exaggerations and fanciful fabrications—they cannot, of course, be accepted outright as factual. Nevertheless, this very exploration account itself can serve as evidence that among Mohammedans, there existed a belief in a land called Wakwak at the eastern edge of the world, a place said to yield gold in abundance.

Japan became known as Wakwak among Mohammedans in West Asia from around the mid-ninth century CE during the late Tang period; however, European Christians remained unaware of its existence.
Japan's national name first reached Europe approximately 450 years later during the Yuan dynasty, precisely around the end of the thirteenth century CE.
The Yuan—that is, the Mongols—had conquered in all directions since Emperor Taizu Genghis Khan, expanding their vast domain until his grandson Emperor Shizu Kublai Khan subjugated most of the known world.
From western Russia to eastern Goryeo on the Korean Peninsula, all fell under Yuan control while most Southern Ocean nations paid tribute.
When this unprecedented Eurasian empire emerged and swept away barriers between previously isolated states, transportation between Eastern and Western spheres became remarkably convenient—Germans, French, and other Europeans along with Western Asians began migrating to China in succession.
Simultaneously, numerous Chinese ventured westward to establish settlements in cities like Tabriz in Persia, Moscow in Russia, and even inland Novgorod—a situation where no medieval period rivaled Mongol-era East-West transportation in magnificence.
A letter discovered in 1920 CE from Güyük Khan—grandson of Genghis Khan and second Yuan emperor—sent to Pope Innocent IV in 1245 CE through Vatican archives bore vermilion-stamped Uighur script on its square Chinese-style seal; written on cotton paper in Persian with an inscription believed carved by Russian Cosmas.
That Italian monk Plano Carpini carried this correspondence from Karakorum to Rome exemplifies Yuan-era characteristics.
During this period Europeans came to China in numbers for diverse purposes—religious missions, commercial ventures, political objectives or livelihood needs—among whom Marco Polo stood preeminent.

Marco Polo was needless to say a native of Venice, Italy. In 1271 CE at age seventeen, he left his homeland for the East accompanied by his father; journeying through Eastern lands, he reached China in 1275 where he was granted audience with Emperor Shizu of Yuan and received exceptional favor, remaining in China for approximately eighteen years in total. That is to say, he stayed there from 1275 until 1292. In 1292 when Emperor Shizu's imperial princess was to wed a Persian monarch of the same clan, they resolved to return to Europe while escorting the princess. Thus in that same year Marco Polo's party set sail from Quanzhou in Fujian province, traversed the Indian Ocean and Persian Gulf to successfully deliver the Yuan princess to the Persian court, after which they themselves traveled overland through Asia Minor and finally returned to their native Venice in 1295 - precisely twenty-five years after their initial departure.

In Venice, there arose a commotion as if Urashima had returned from the Dragon Palace, with visitors forming crowds to hear his rare tales of the Orient. Marco Polo, seeking to delight these gathered visitors, frequently employed exaggerated numbers like "a million" when recounting Eastern splendors—a habit that soon earned him the nickname "Messer Marco Millioni" ("Millionaire Marco") among contemporaries. Not long after Marco Polo's return home, war erupted between Venice and Genoa; having joined Venice's forces, he was captured by enemy troops. During his captivity under Genoese control in 1298 CE, he dictated his Eastern experiences for transcription. This became the renowned Travels of Marco Polo. The Yuan invasion of Japan under Emperor Shizu—specifically the Kōan 4 campaign (1281 CE)—occurred precisely during Marco Polo's residence in China; being naturally aware of this event, he included relatively detailed accounts about Japan in his travelogue.

In Marco Polo’s travelogue, Japan was written as Zipangu (Zipangu).
Zipangu represents a corruption of Jih-pên-kuo (Jih-pên-kuo), the Chinese pronunciation of Japan.
While the Chinese people had referred to our country as Wa-koku until the Tang era, they generally came to call it Nihon-koku (Japan) during the Song-Yuan period. Thus Marco Polo, having learned about our country through Chinese sources, directly transcribed their pronunciation as “Zipangu.”
In any case, our country’s name of Japan—that is, Zipangu—was first transmitted among Europeans through Marco Polo.
To introduce the accounts concerning Japan in his travelogue, they may be summarized as follows.

Zipangu was described as being part of "China." It was depicted as an exceedingly large island situated in the open sea approximately 1,500 *ri* east of the continent. The people were described as fair-skinned and highly civilized... These inhabitants were said to possess infinite quantities of gold. Though vast amounts of gold were produced on this island, its king prohibited "the people" from exporting it overseas. Moreover, being an isolated island far removed from continental shores, foreign merchants engaging in trade with this nation proved exceedingly rare. Due to these circumstances, its people were said to hold gold reserves beyond verbal description.

Now I shall recount for you readers the astonishing features of this kingdom’s palace. The king maintained an extraordinarily vast palace whose roof tiles were entirely fashioned from pure gold. Furthermore, the paving stones connecting each building within this palace complex were not stone at all but rather gold plates several inches thick. Similarly, every room’s floorboards consisted of gold plates matching this thickness. Consequently, the palace’s value surpassed all calculation—so immense that ordinary minds could scarcely comprehend it.

Kublai Khan—the reigning Great Khan of the Mongols and Emperor Shizu—having heard reports of this island’s inexhaustible gold reserves, launched his military expedition precisely for this reason: to annex this fabled land.

Thus, Marco Polo documented in detail in his travelogue the circumstances of the Mongol invasion of our country and the great failure of the Mongol fleet due to a storm.
Marco Polo, like the Arab geographer Ibn Khordadbeh—nay, even more so—treated our country as a golden treasure island; his introduction of the East’s splendor and prosperity, particularly his propagation of Zipangu’s infinite gold, significantly stimulated avaricious Europeans.
To be sure, there were no small number of travelogues and records by those who journeyed to the East during the Yuan era; among these, Marco Polo’s travelogue was most welcomed by society both in content and style, being widely read from the fourteenth to fifteenth century CE.
As it came to be widely read, it increasingly provided great stimulation to Europeans, and this stimulation ultimately became a major cause that prompted the emergence of that great event in world history—the discovery of the New World.

As I have explained above, ever since transportation between the Eastern and Western spheres prospered during the Yuan era, Eastern trade also flourished; Europeans' demand for Eastern products—and consequently, those imported to Europe—increased day by day and month by month.
Europeans had now reached a state where their daily lives would be almost hindered without Eastern products.
The most common transportation route between the Eastern and Western spheres around the fourteenth century CE was overland: departing from China through what is now Xinjiang Province into Central Asia, passing north of the Aral and Caspian Seas to reach the shores of the Black Sea.
In short, upon emerging into Siberia's southwestern Black Sea region, one found numerous Italian merchants there who sold Eastern goods to Mediterranean coastal nations.
As for maritime routes—departing southern China through the Indian Ocean to emerge at the Red Sea, landing near present-day Suez before reaching Syria or Egypt—here too Italian merchants awaited to sell Eastern imports to Mediterranean coastal countries.

However, a problematic development occurred from the mid-14th century through the 15th century: the Ottoman Empire rose to power and gradually expanded its influence, with the Black Sea, Syria, and Egypt progressively coming under Turkish control or being on the verge of doing so.
Thus, both maritime and overland routes between Europe and Asia came to be threatened or blocked by the Turks.
Originally, European countries and the Turks were sworn and implacable enemies.
Firstly, the Turks adhered to Mohammedanism while the European nations practiced Christianity, resulting in differing faiths.
Secondly, the Turks—having rallied their emerging forces—directed their aggression toward Europe and were constantly at war with the European nations.
For European nations, having their vital transportation routes to the East threatened or severed by the Turks—their sworn enemies in both religious and political terms—was an unbearable agony.
Therefore, from the mid-fifteenth century onward, European nations earnestly endeavored to discover a new transportation route to the East that was free from Turkish influence.

There were two new transportation routes that required discovery through such efforts.
One was a route that would head east along Africa's western coast, pass through the Indian Ocean, and circumnavigate to the Orient; the other was a route that would head west across the Atlantic Ocean and navigate to the Orient.
Though the former constituted a considerably roundabout course, following coastlines rendered it relatively safe despite being a new transportation route.
The latter might have seemed to shorten the distance, but it had to be called an exceedingly perilous new route.

It was the Portuguese who opened the former eastern sea route. After fifty years of effort, Vasco da Gama's fleet—which had departed from Lisbon in 1497 CE—rounded Africa's southern tip and arrived at Calicut in India by April of the following year, 1498, successfully establishing a new sea route from Europe to India. They went on to occupy Goa in India in 1510 as their base for Eastern ventures, seized Malacca at the Malay Peninsula's southern tip the next year in 1511, and first advanced into Southern China in 1514. Approximately thirty years later, around 1543, they pushed further to reach Kyushu in our Japan. Through this eastern sea route, the Portuguese ultimately reached Asia's eastern extremity, capturing Amacao (now Macao) in southern China by 1557 and establishing it as their Far Eastern base for trade with Japan and China.

It was Spain that opened the latter western sea route.

Medieval Europe was what we call the Dark Ages—a period when scholarship was utterly suppressed. Consequently, European knowledge of world geography at that time remained woefully inadequate, with their understanding of East Asia in particular being virtually nonexistent. Until around the thirteenth century within this medieval era, the maps commonly used in Europe were so-called T-O maps—those featuring a T inscribed within an O—roughly resembling the diagram mentioned earlier.

That is, Jerusalem—Christianity’s holy land—occupied the world’s center; Asia was depicted as more diminutive than reality, with regions east of Central Asia compressed into an extremely confined space.
However, when numerous Europeans during the Yuan era traveled between Mongolia and China and experienced Asia’s unexpectedly vast eastern territories, this prompted a reaction against prior conventions—European maps from around the fifteenth century consequently came to portray Asia as more expansive than its actual dimensions.
Furthermore, while Marco Polo’s travelogue entries about Japan and China employed Chinese *ri* units for distances—information he had obtained through hearsay from Chinese sources—European readers erroneously interpreted these measurements as Italian miles.
Given that Italian miles were approximately three times longer than Chinese *ri*, this miscalculation increasingly exaggerated East Asia’s perceived size beyond reality.
For instance, according to Marco Polo’s account, Zipangu—that is, Japan—was described as a large island situated 1,500 *ri* east of the China continent in open waters; converting these 1,500 *ri* into Italian miles equated them to 25 degrees of longitude, thereby necessitating Zipangu’s placement in waters 25 degrees east of continental China.
Yet examining actual distances today reveals that the span between China’s easternmost point and Japan’s western extremity measures approximately eight degrees of longitude—meaning this miscalculation had inflated the perceived China-Zipangu (Japan) distance to over three times its true measure.

Originally in Europe, since ancient Greek times, the world was considered to be spherical in form.
If one posited the world as spherical, then Asia's eastern extremity—exaggeratedly expanded beyond reality—would gradually stretch eastward and naturally draw closer to Europe's western edge.
By the latter half of the fifteenth century, among Europe's educated classes—particularly geographers—it came to be believed that Zipangu, or Japan, located at Asia's eastern extremity, was positioned far closer to Portugal and Spain's western edges than reality warranted.
Indeed, Toscanelli—an Italian astronomer renowned like Columbus—was said to have produced in 1474 what became the first European-made map expressing "Zipangu" through Marco Polo's accounts; it depicted the distance between Lisbon and Zipangu as approximately one hundred degrees.
The actual distance between these locations corresponded to about 220 degrees of longitude, meaning Toscanelli's map had compressed it to less than half its true measure.
Based on Toscanelli's theory, Martin Behaim—a German—created a globe in 1492 (the year of Columbus's New World discovery) that portrayed Zipangu as lying merely ninety degrees from Europe's western edge; this globe, approximately two shaku in diameter, remains preserved in Nuremberg's museum.
When contrasted with Japan's actual 220-degree separation from western Europe, this meant cartographers had reduced the distance by nearly three-fifths—clear evidence that Zipangu was perceived as lying implausibly close to Europe's western periphery.

Zipangu, located at Asia’s eastern extremity, was positioned considerably close to Europe.
The distance from Europe westward to Zipangu was far closer than taking the eastern sea route along the coast of Africa to reach India and China.
That Zipangu was an island of immeasurable golden treasures.
These two factors were the greatest motives that compelled Columbus, under the protection of the Spanish royal family, to take the western sea route and sail eastward—both had to be acknowledged as influences stemming from Marco Polo’s travelogue.
Indeed, Marco Polo’s travelogue—Columbus’s personal copy preserved at the Biblioteca Columbina library in Seville, Spain; specifically, a Latin translation printed around 1485—contains numerous annotations in his own hand, which eloquently testifies to how thoroughly he studied this work.

Thus, Columbus departed from the port of Palos in Spain in August 1492 CE and headed west, arriving near Cuba—close to what is now the western coast of the American continent—in October of the same year, thereby achieving the unexpected great feat known as the discovery of the New World.
However, since Columbus himself had never even dreamed of an unknown new continent existing between Europe and Asia, he remained convinced that the land he had reached was undoubtedly Asia's eastern extremity and likely Marco Polo's Zipangu.
Columbus never doubted his conviction until his death in 1506 that he had arrived at Asia's eastern edge via the western sea route.
Not only Columbus but Europeans of that time generally shared this belief; since they were convinced that the new land (Terra Nova) reached by the Spaniards was none other than Marco Polo's Zipangu, all world maps produced by Europeans from the late fifteenth to early sixteenth century omitted the country name Zipangu.
This was because they regarded the new land discovered by the Spaniards as identical to Zipangu.
Even after this new land and Zipangu came to be recognized as distinct entities, Zipangu continued to be depicted on maps as lying extremely close to the new land's eastern coast, while names such as Mexico—which belong to what is now America in the newly discovered lands—were represented as if they were part of the Asian continent.
However, the Portuguese who took the eastern sea route had already reached China's southeastern coast and subsequently arrived at Japan—Marco Polo's so-called Zipangu—and as Asia's eastern extremity gradually became clear, the confusion between Spain's New World and eastern Asia was progressively corrected. Consequently, world maps produced during the latter half of the sixteenth century came to represent the positions of both continents and Japan with almost no significant difference from reality.

From the mid-sixteenth century onward, the Portuguese began traveling to our country, and they referred to our country as Japan (Japan/Japao).
Japan—similar to the *Zipan* in Zipangu—derives from the Chinese pronunciation of our country’s name; it is thought that the Portuguese heard this designation either directly from the Chinese or indirectly through Malays.
The Portuguese believed that this Japan—whether viewed in terms of geographical position, nominal similarity, or especially its abundant gold and silver—was undoubtedly the Zipangu chronicled in Marco Polo’s accounts.

The abundance of gold and silver refers precisely to the period when the Portuguese opened trade with our country—a time when our nation’s gold and silver production had just begun to reach its peak.
Coinciding with the Sengoku period, regional warlords who had established domains across the land encouraged mine development to enrich their respective finances—a policy that even Hideyoshi and Ieyasu continued after unifying the realm.
Therefore, from the Tenshō era through the Keichō and Genna eras—that is, during the fifty to sixty years spanning the latter half of the sixteenth century to the first half of the seventeenth century—mines across the land were vigorously excavated, and gold and silver were produced in considerable quantities.
Indeed, Miura Shigenobu’s *Keichō Kenbunshū* states that even among the numerous gold and silver mines across the provinces, Sado Island was exceptional—a veritable mountain of treasure formed entirely of gold and silver—and that the vast amounts of gold and silver excavated annually from this island were transported inland, with precious metals circulating even among the common people.

"That even the common people handled gold and silver—a rare and auspicious era indeed."
"Truly, this must indeed be the era of Miroku."

It is written.
In *The History of Japan* by Kaempfer—who toured our country in the late seventeenth century—it was noted that even during his time, gold remained the most abundant metal produced in Japan, though it had been even more plentiful previously. The gold ore from Sado was of such rare quality that from one *kin* of ore, one could obtain one *ryō* of gold—sometimes even two *ryō*—thereby attesting to the accuracy of *Keichō Kenbunshū*'s accounts.
In any case, there can be no doubt that our country was abundantly rich in gold and silver immediately following the Portuguese arrival.

The Portuguese engaged in trade with Japan for approximately ninety years from the mid-sixteenth century to the early seventeenth century; during this period, they imported not only novel devices, spices, medicinal products, and woolen textiles from Europe and India but also—and in greater quantities—Chinese silk fabrics and raw silk procured at Macau Port into Japan.
Just as the era transitioned through Oda, Toyotomi, and Tokugawa, and the Age of Provincial Wars gradually moved toward a trend of national unification, Japan’s domestic economy suddenly recovered, and luxurious and expensive imported goods came to be in high demand.
The Portuguese are said to have achieved a profit of at least one hundred percent by importing Southern Barbarian goods and Chinese goods into our country.
In addition to these enormous profits, they received from our country—primarily gold and silver (which were being produced in large quantities at the time)—as compensation for imported goods and exported these overseas.
At that time, the value of gold in our country was considerably lower compared to Europe and India.
For example, whereas in Europe at that time the exchange rate stood at approximately 1:13 to 14 between gold and silver, in our country the rate was around 1:10.
As compensation for imported goods from the Portuguese, silver was paid in the greatest quantities, but gold was also paid in considerable amounts.
If they received gold, they could have reaped double profits by exporting it west of India and exchanging it for silver.

During the peak period of Portuguese trade with our country, it was said that approximately 4.2 million *ryō* of gold and silver were exported annually from our country. Therefore, over the approximately ninety years until the Portuguese concluded their trade in Kan’ei 16 (1639 CE), the amount of gold and silver that they removed from our country must have reached an enormous sum. Due to the scarcity of historical records concerning gold and silver outflow from our country prior to the Keichō era, we cannot present precise figures; however, there can be no doubt regarding the scale of this outflow. Thus, Macau Port—the Portuguese base for Far Eastern trade at that time—was said to have been so overwhelmed by the vast quantities of gold and silver brought from Japan that the Portuguese paved their streets with silver, as travelers from the latter half of the seventeenth century left behind in retrospective accounts.

From Keichō 14 (1609 CE), the Dutch opened trade with our country; they gradually developed it and eventually came to monopolize trading rights with our nation. These Dutch also took considerable quantities of gold and silver overseas from our country.
They first exported silver and later gold.
In Hildreth’s *History of Japan*, it was estimated that the gold and silver flowing overseas from Japan over approximately two hundred years from the mid-sixteenth century to the mid-eighteenth century must have reached over 200 million dollars.
The legend from Marco Polo’s Zipangu stating that gold and silver existed in immeasurable quantities, combined with the fact that large amounts of gold and silver flowed out from Japan year after year following the opening of the country, meant that until around the latter half of the seventeenth century, our nation was still recognized by Europeans as a treasure island abundant in gold and silver production worldwide.
Among them persisted a belief that Gold Island and Silver Island lay in the northeastern seas of Japan’s Ōshū region—islands from which the Japanese were said to extract their abundant gold and silver. This rumor led to the farcical reality that from 1610 to 1643, Spanish and Dutch officials—not lacking in ambition—repeatedly dispatched expedition teams to search for these islands’ whereabouts.
One of the world maps displayed at this Kaikoku Cultural Grand Exhibition particularly highlights these Gold and Silver Islands in splendid detail.

In any case, beginning with the Arab geographer Ibn Khordadbeh’s *Wākwāk*, passing through Marco Polo’s *Zipangu*, and reaching Japan after Europeans’ eastward advance, our country had been recognized by the world as a golden land for over eight hundred years in total.
Even if we dismiss this characterization of our country as a golden land as mere rumor or exaggeration, the fact that such notions precipitated historically significant events like Columbus’s discovery of the New World compels us to regard this rumor or exaggeration as rather beneficial for humanity at large.
From our nation’s perspective, while it remains true that these rumors or exaggerations led to frequent overseas outflow of gold and silver through European hands after opening our borders—ultimately depleting the national treasury—this very outflow and financial strain served to stimulate and awaken our people, providing impetus for industrial development. Thus even for Japan, these rumors should not necessarily be deemed unfortunate.
Indeed, while the post-opening outflow of precious metals stemmed chiefly from imports of Chinese raw silk and silk fabrics—which both Portuguese and Dutch traders vigorously imported—our domestic production of these goods later flourished. Today they stand as Japan’s foremost exports, amply compensating through present achievements for what was lost in times past.

There are differing theories regarding the year in which the Portuguese first arrived in our country, but the Tenbun 12 (1543 CE) theory stands as the most accurate. As for the first Portuguese individuals who arrived in our country at that time, accounts vary widely and prove difficult to confirm definitively; however, in many instances, the renowned Pinto (Fernam Mendez Pinto) is enumerated among them. While considerable doubt persists regarding whether Pinto truly numbered among these first arrivals, I find his accounts concerning our nation's opening—even if based not on personal experience but hearsay—to be reasonably credible. This Pinto, a Portuguese-born man of humble origins, had set out for the East in 1537 CE to seek his fortune. Over more than two decades until 1558 CE, he wandered through Eastern lands, enduring capture some thirty times in total—during which span he became a soldier, at times an official, at others a merchant, periodically a priest, occasionally even a pirate or slave, and at points reduced to beggary—marking him as an adventurer of extraordinarily tumultuous circumstances. His *The Oriental Peregrination*, published posthumously in the early seventeenth century and widely read across Europe, was initially dismissed as outlandish fiction due to its bizarre content and marked exaggerations—so much so that figures like Shakespeare stamped Pinto as history's preeminent liar. Yet today, the contents of *The Oriental Peregrination* have come to be largely accepted as factual.

According to Pinto’s *The Oriental Peregrination*, he became a crew member on a Chinese pirate ship alongside two other compatriots for livelihood; however, when this pirate ship was wrecked and drifted ashore at Tanegashima in Ōsumi Province (Tanixuma), Pinto and the three Portuguese men consequently landed in our country.
Pinto does not clearly state the year of this incident, but when compared with our country’s historical records, there can be no doubt that it occurred in Tenbun 12 (1543 CE).
The matchlock carried by Zeimoto, one of Pinto’s companions, happened to attract the attention of Tanegashima Tokitaka, the lord of their landing site. Tokitaka purchased this firearm and had his men instructed in gunmaking techniques, marksmanship, and gunpowder production methods.
This marks the genesis of new-style firearms—namely matchlocks—being introduced to our country.
Tanegashima Tokitaka was posthumously awarded the Senior Fourth Rank in Taishō 13 (1924 CE) for this achievement.
Pinto subsequently revisited our country repeatedly, and during his second voyage in 1547, he brought two Japanese individuals from Kagoshima and entrusted them to the renowned Xavier (Francis Xavier), who had come to Malacca for missionary work in the East.
Xavier then arrived at our Kagoshima in Tenbun 18 (1549 CE) with one of these Japanese individuals as his guide and began missionary work.
Thus from the mid-sixteenth century onward, European missionary activities and trade commenced in our country. However, as matters concerning religion, economy, art, and other issues following Europeans’ arrival have already been addressed by other lecturers and will continue to be covered in future lectures, I have merely outlined how our nation became known to the world prior to establishing relations with European states.

As I now conclude this lecture, I wish to add one final remark by way of conclusion.
Our country first imported continental culture through Korea; then, through China, we imported not only China’s indigenous culture but also that of India and the Western Regions; and finally, by engaging with European nations, we imported Western culture—yet we never introduced these diverse cultures into our land haphazardly, uncritically, or indiscriminately.
Our nation’s pioneering ancestors—those who came before us—were not only enthusiastic about importing new cultures from around the world into our country but were equally dedicated to assimilating these new cultures into our national polity.
Cultures ultimately incompatible with our national polity were earnestly refrained from adopting.
As a result, whether Western or Eastern, once any culture was transmitted to our country, it became thoroughly fused with our national polity and ultimately transformed into Japanese culture.
Just as westward-flowing river waters and eastward-flowing river waters, once they enter the great sea, become equally seawater with no distinction between them.
Preserving our national polity while assimilating foreign cultures has been our nation’s founding policy, implemented throughout its long history.
In our country, there has long existed the phrase *wakon kansai* (Japanese Spirit with Chinese Learning).
It signifies maintaining the Japanese spirit while assimilating foreign (Chinese) knowledge.
This phrase is said to have originated with Lord Sugawara; be that as it may, the principle expressed in these words had been implemented even before his time and continued to be implemented after him.
Nations, like living organisms, develop through the survival of the fittest.
The fact that our country has been able to maintain the position of the fittest in an unbroken line from its founding to the present day is entirely due to the principles of *wakon kansai* (Japanese Spirit with Chinese Learning), or what should be considered their equivalent in meaning, *wakon yōsai* (Japanese Spirit with Western Learning).
In the Shōwa era as well, it remains safe to continue adhering to this principle.
If we examine our country's past history, the policy we should adopt for the future should naturally become clear.
To take history as a mirror is precisely this point; “learning from the past to understand the new” must be applied in this manner.
The Kaikoku Cultural Grand Exhibition currently organized by the Asahi Shimbun is truly a splendid event; however, I believe this exhibition would gain even greater value if those of you viewing it were to consider not merely savoring its transient exotic atmosphere but also advancing further to reflect upon both the enthusiasm our pioneers demonstrated in assimilating foreign cultures and the painstaking efforts they exerted to adapt those foreign cultures to our national polity.
(March 22, 1929 Lecture)

(November 1929, published in *Kaikoku Bunka*)