This is really much the same question that arose some years ago with reference to bowing before the Emperor’s portrait. To that ceremony the common word for “worship” [_reihai_ or _hairei_] was applied; and therefore many Christians conscientiously refused to perform it. Now, those Japanese words are composed of _rei_, a very common term indicating any polite act, and _hai_, which in its original ideographic form was written with a picture of two hands clasped, and therefore naturally indicates worship. But this word _hai_ is an integral part of such words as _haiken_ (a very polite expression for “please let me see”), _haishaku_ (“please lend”), _haikei_ (the humble phrase at the beginning of a letter). In all these cases the word _hai_ expresses a humble request to a superior, originally made with clasped hands and bowed head. These words are in daily use by Christians, including missionaries, without conscientious scruples, because they are apparently cases of what rhetoricians call “fossil metaphors.” It would appear, then, that _hai_, which gives _reihai_ its significance of “worship,” may have shades of meaning, just as we speak, not only of the “worship of the one, true God,” but also of “hero-worship.” It is, in fact, a question of terms in a language and among a people where such fine distinctions are not drawn between the secular and the religious, the common and the uncommon, the holy and the unholy. In a country where each person must humble himself before others and must express that humility in words and deeds that to Occidentals suggest Uriah Heep, and where profound bows are the most ordinary occurrence, bowing to the Emperor’s portrait is scarcely “worship.” It is no more “worship” or “idolatry” than baring the head when the United States flag was raised at San Juan de Porto Rico, or when the British sing “God Save the King,” or than standing with bared and bowed heads before an open grave. To repeat, the whole question is largely one of terms in a language undergoing great transitions and modifications through contact with Occidental thought and speech. In this connection the whole subject of translation comes up. What Japanese words, for instance, shall be used for “God,” “spirit,” “love,” “home,” “worship,” “personal,” and many other terms? The ideas included in such words do not exist in the Japanese mind, and therefore there are no absolutely equivalent terms. Either old words of lower concepts must be used, or words must be coined; in either case the full idea of the original is not transferred to the Japanese mind without considerable explanation. But this is a digression.