During the Edo period, a man named Fisscher, who worked at the Dutch trading post on Dejima (出島) in Nagasaki, left behind the following words:
“I have always believed that the love between children and their parents is one of the two fundamental virtues that shine brightest in the character of the Japanese people.”
He was deeply impressed by the way the Japanese raised their children. After all, they were “so indulgent—perhaps overly so—towards the innocent behaviour of their children, that the idea of striking them was simply out of the question.”
One might assume such leniency would lead to spoiled children, but Edo-period child-rearing appears to have been largely successful. Even Captain Golovnin of the Russian navy, who commanded the ship Diana, wrote in his memoirs that “the Japanese are among the most educated people in the world,” precisely because they “teach patience, frugality, and etiquette most skilfully from an early age.”
That said, it’s safe to assume that parents of the time also worried endlessly about how best to raise their children. Indeed, a wide range of books on parenting and education were published during the Edo period, reflecting those very concerns.
As a collector of old books, I find the educational texts of this period especially fascinating. What sort of advice did they offer? Let’s take a glimpse inside.
Have your child read the Classic of Filial Piety (Kokyo, 孝経)
Parental anxiety often begins before the child is even born.
Childbirth in those days (as now) was a matter of life and death, and even if a baby was born safely, its chances of survival remained slim. Simply making it through infancy was considered a stroke of luck. The early Edo-period Confucian scholar Nakae Toju (中江藤樹) attributed this to ‘the benevolence and virtue of the parents.’
Toju advocated that once a child reached the age of eight or nine, they should be made to read the Classic of Filial Piety if they were bright, or be read to from it if not.
Although the Classic of Filial Piety was not new to the Edo period, as literacy spread among children, it came to be widely recommended—both to the children of samurai and those of commoners—as an essential moral primer. As its title suggests, the book focuses on the path of filial piety. It opens with this:
The Master said: Filial piety is the root of virtue and the foundation of teaching. Come, sit down again and I shall tell you. One’s body, hair, and skin are received from one’s parents—daring to damage them is the beginning of unfilial conduct. To establish oneself in life, to practise the Way, to bring honour to one’s name and thereby to glorify one’s parents—this is the fulfilment of filial piety.
(That is to say, our bodies—from hands and feet to hair and skin—are all gifts from our parents. In a sense, they are our parents’ very legacy. We must take care to preserve and protect them. This is where filial devotion begins.)
At the heart of filial piety lies the boundless parental love underpinning human existence itself—a reflection of the timeless desire of all parents to see their children thrive.
According to Toju, a child learns not only from their parents but also from wet nurses, teachers, friends, and others in their lives. The Classic of Filial Piety offers children a way to learn the principles of filial conduct not only from the adults around them but also through the written word.
Preserve, protect, and pass it on: Kagamigusa, a book of teachings for women
Published in 1647, Kagamigusa (鑑草) is a moral guide written for women.
It covers eight themes, ranging from general moral instruction to topics such as filial impiety, jealousy, retribution for wrongdoing, and love for one’s children and family. One of these sections, titled Kyoshi-ho (教子報, ‘philosophy of raising children’), explores the importance of mothers imparting moral guidance to their children.
Upper or lower class, wise or foolish, there is no one who does not love their own child. And in loving their child, there is none who does not wish to bestow upon them a treasure. Yet, not understanding what the greatest treasure in the world truly is, they vainly seek to give their children only worldly riches, without any thought of passing on the treasure of life and nature.
Whilst the language may sound a bit complicated, the key message is that there are two great treasures in the world—and one of them is something called “Meitoku” (明徳), which lies within the heart of every person. Meitoku refers to the innate moral virtue or goodness each person is born with. If you cherish and protect this inner virtue, your heart will be joyful, your descendants will thrive, and both this life and the next will be filled with peace and happiness.
While the worldly treasures so highly prized by society may remain out of reach no matter how hard one strives, meitoku is inherent in all people, regardless of social status or background. The book argues that truly loving one’s child means protecting this supreme treasure—and to teach a child is, above all, to pass this inner virtue on to them.
The ideal father as depicted in ‘Yamaga Gorui’
If there were books prescribing the proper role of mothers, naturally, there were also texts addressing the role of fathers.
‘Yamaga Gorui (山鹿語類)‘ is a massive work in forty-five volumes, rich in discussions on education and personal conduct. Of those, three volumes are devoted to fatherhood and the raising of children.
It’s doubtful that every father of the time read the entire work, but for those who did, it offered valuable insights.
The author, Yamaga Soko (山鹿素行), repeatedly insists that a father’s love for his children must be unwavering and absolute—constant in all circumstances.
He notes that while the desire to teach one’s children may stem from love, it can also conceal a more self-serving motivation: the urge to impose one’s own ideals or to judge critically. With this in mind, he offers guidance on how to nurture children appropriately.
A newborn baby is tiny and fragile, but over time it becomes full of vigour and life. This is like a seedling breaking through the soil. No matter how much one rushes to till the ground or apply fertiliser, it will not grow faster—and forcing it may even do harm. Likewise, tying the plant to a stake in an attempt to make it grow straight could hinder its development. Instead, one must simply remove external threats and obstacles to inner growth, and allow nature to take its course.
Still, merely watching over a child’s growth is not enough. The author goes further:
Even an infant, though it cannot yet speak or reason, already expresses emotion. Those responsible for its care must guide and nurture that emotion—this is what it means to raise a child according to the Way.
If a child cries, a parent should seek the cause of distress and soothe it. One should not raise one’s voice when speaking to a child. When the child begins to grasp objects, they should be gently taught to use chopsticks.
It is a work filled with moral instruction and fatherly tenderness, rooted in the routines of daily life. It carefully reminds us that child-rearing is about closely observing the stages of development and guiding the child’s growth with patience and care.
Recommended educational books by scholars
There are so many educational books from the Edo period that I would love to introduce them all—but that’s not possible, so here are a few personal recommendations.
One such book, recommended by scholars of the time, is Kinmozui (訓蒙図彙). Not only is it an educational text, but it is also regarded as Japan’s first illustrated encyclopaedia. It was used as an introductory book to help children become familiar with books and acquire general knowledge. With its illustrations of plants and other subjects, it’s an enjoyable read even for adults.
Yuasa Jozan (湯浅常山), a Confucian scholar of the mid-Edo period, wrote in his Bunkai Zakki (文会雑記) that children should first be given Kinmozui to read. He advised arranging a book so that an image appears on one page and text on the opposite page, thereby making learning a pleasurable experience. Rather than forcing children to read difficult texts, he recommended that they begin with illustrated books or war tales to foster a natural fondness for reading. More complex or theoretical works could come later.
Other notable works include Himekagami (比売鑑), which lays out the fundamental principles of child-rearing in Edo society; Daimon Zakki (待問雑記), written by a Kokugaku (国学) scholar in the late Edo period; and Fukeikun (父兄訓), a guide on how to teach one’s children. The era produced an abundance of excellent texts—too many to name in full.
Timeless parenting worries
Whether it’s fostering a love of letters and books (as in Bunkai Zakki, 文会雑記), the idea that children learn by mimicking their parents (as in Fukeikun, 父兄訓), or the notion that six is the ideal age to begin lessons (as in Himekagami, 比売鑑), these old educational texts reveal something timeless: the worries parents have about raising children haven’t changed much over the centuries.
From wanting their children to act with kindness and proper manners from a young age, to teaching them to guard against bad influences—these parental hopes remain consistent throughout history. If anything marks a clear difference, it’s the greater emphasis placed on courtesy and decorum during the Edo period.
Edo-era parenting: not just gentle, but purposeful
Foreigners who visited Japan during the Edo period might have been surprised by how doting Japanese parents seemed. However, this affection was not about indulging a child’s every whim or tolerating unruly behaviour. Instead, it reflected a deeper wish—that children, guided by the love of their parents, would grow into adults endowed with wisdom and virtue.
It’s truly a pity that these books are no longer widely read. When examined closely, they offer insights that can surprise even the most seasoned adult.
There’s something oddly appealing about how they correct our human tendency to overestimate our own maturity—as if, once we reach adulthood, we have nothing more to learn from others. These books offer not only humility but a sense of shame where it’s due. That’s precisely why I can’t let go of old books. The great merit of educational texts from the Edo period lies in their ability to teach children and adults alike.
[References]
Nakae Kazue (中江和恵), Edo no Kosodate (江戸の子育て), Bungeishunju (文藝春秋), 2003
Yamazumi Masami (山住正己) & Nakae Kazue (中江和恵), Kosodate no Sho (子育ての書) (1), Heibonsha (平凡社), 1976
Kurihara Keisuke (栗原圭介), Kokyo (孝経) – Shinshaku Kanbun Taikei (新釈漢文大系) (35), Meiji Shoin (明治書院), 1990
This article is translated from https://intojapanwaraku.com/rock/culture-rock/268582/
