not to resort to the shedding of a tear or the uttering of a groan for
the relief of their feelings,--and there is a physiological problem
whether such effort steels their nerves or makes them more sensitive.

It was considered unmanly for a samurai to betray his emotions on his
face. "He shows no sign of joy or anger," was a phrase used in
describing a strong character. The most natural affections were kept
under control. A father could embrace his son only at the expense of his
dignity; a husband would not kiss his wife,--no, not in the presence of
other people, whatever he might do in private! There may be some truth
in the remark of a witty youth when he said, "American husbands kiss
their wives in public and beat them in private; Japanese husbands beat
theirs in public and kiss them in private."

Calmness of behavior, composure of mind, should not be disturbed by
passion of any kind. I remember when, during the late war with China, a
regiment left a certain town, a large concourse of people flocked to the
station to bid farewell to the general and his army. On this occasion
an American resident resorted to the place, expecting to witness loud
demonstrations, as the nation itself was highly excited and there were
fathers, mothers, and sweethearts of the soldiers in the crowd. The
American was strangely disappointed; for as the whistle blew and the
train began to move, the hats of thousands of people were silently taken
off and their heads bowed in reverential farewell; no waving of
handkerchiefs, no word uttered, but deep silence in which only an
attentive ear could catch a few broken sobs. In domestic life, too, I
know of a father who spent whole nights listening to the breathing of a
sick child, standing behind the door that he might not be caught in such
an act of parental weakness! I know of a mother who, in her last
moments, refrained from sending for her son, that he might not be