ENGLISH READERS. 
THE HIGH SCHOOL SERIES. 
BOOK 1. 

THE SNIPE AND THE CLAM. 
ONCE upon a time a clam, who had opened his shell wide, was basking in the sunshine on the sea-shore.  A snipe happened to see what was going on.  He hastened to the spot, and, with the intent of seizing the clam and devouring it, thrust his beak into the shell.  The clam closed his shell.  The snipe was held by the beak, and could not get free, do what he would.  The snipe said to the clam: "If it rains neither to-day nor to-morrow, I am collect in saying you must die." 
"And if you stay here all to-day and all to-morrow," replied the clam, "I am correct in saying you must die."
Whilst they were thus disputing, a fisherman came along and took them both, and went home delighted with his good luck. 

THE USE AND ABUSE OF THINGS. 
MOST things are not bad in themselves, but only bad when put to bad uses.  RYU KAKEI, of China, made some rice syrup, which he took for the nourishment of his body and to strengthen him for his studies.  SEKI, the great robber, used the same rice syrup for putting on the hinges of doors, to keep them from making a noise when he entered people's houses to thieve.  Thus we see that the same rice syrup was used by one man to aid a lawful pursuit, and by the other to assist lawless robbery.  Things are good or bad according to the use we make of them.  Good things used at bad times become bad.  Good things used immoderately are no less bad. 
In the use of things, time, place, degree and circumstances have to be considered. 

THE CHILD IS FATHER OF THE MAN. 
TOKUGAWA IEYASU, when young, was sent by his father as a hostage to IMAGAWA YOSHIMOTO. 
It was customary in those days for the children of Suruga, on the fifth of May, to play at throwing stones at one another.  Grown-up people used to go out to watch the affray, and, excited by the scene, would take sides and help the children in the fight. 
One year, when this custom was being observed, it happened that IEYASU, who was just ten years old, was taken out on the shoulders of an attendant to see the fight.  On this occasion the combatants on one side amounted to about 300, and those on the other to about 150.  Those who arrived from different quarters all joined the side which seemed the stronger.  IEYASU bid the man who was carrying him take the side of the few.  The servant was surprised at this, and asked why he was to act thus.  "The side of the many," replied the lad " will rely on its numbers, and will not fight in union; but the side of the few will make the best of its strength, and will make up for its deficient numbers by increased carefulness.  It will therefore conquer."  It happened just as he had said; the side of the few won the victory. 
YOSHIMOTO heard what had occurred, and remarked: -- "How true is that saying; 'He that comes forth from the house of a brave man is sure to be brave."' 

DILIGENCE THE GREATEST TREASURE. 
A FARMER, who was very ill and about to die, called his three sons to him and thus addressed them: -- 
"My dear children, I am about to die.  I have nothing to leave you but this hut and the vineyard which surrounds it.  In this vineyard, however, a great treasure lies hid.  Dig diligently and you will find it." 
After their father's death the sons dug the vineyard with great care, but found no such treasure as they looked for.  The vineyard had never been dug so well before.  As a result of their labor that year, it yielded an enormous quantity of grapes. 
Seeing this, the sons guessed what the father had meant by saying a treasure lay hid in the vineyard, and they wrote in large letters at its entrance: -- "Diligence is the greatest treasure man possesses." 

IEMITSU'S CONSIDERATION FOR OTHERS. 
WHEN IEMITSU was out hawking one day, somewhere near Shinagawa, a goose which one of his hawks was chasing descended to a pond.  The hawk went into the water after it, and struggled to lay hold of the goose and get it out.  The hawk being no match for the goose in the water, was about to fly away and leave its prey, when a man who was watching the contest rushed forward, jumped into the water, and seized the goose. 
Those who stood around applauded the act.  IEMITSU alone remained silent.  Afterwards, some one asked him why he did not praise the deed.  "For fear," he replied, "that such conduct should become frequent.  All is well that ends well, and perhaps the man is none the worse for his wetting.  But that a man should jump into the water on a cold November day, is an unwise thing.  Had anything happened to him, a man's life might have been sacrificed for the sake of a bird.  Such acts are not to be commended; and for this reason I was silent." 

INTELLIGENCE. 
UESUGI SADAMASA was purposing to attack an enemy by night, in Shimosa.  He wanted to lead his troops along under some cliffs.  But this could only be done when the tide was out, as the cliffs under which they wished to pass were occupied by the enemy.  If SADAMASA's troops had passed immediately under the cliffs when the tide was in, the enemy would have hurled stones on them from the heights, and the passage would have been a most dangerous one.  
SADAMASA sent one of the troops to explore the place, to see whether the tide was out or not.  But the night being very dark, the man could not see whether the tide was in or out.  SADAMASA sent others, but they came back and said they could not find out anything.  
Here one of UESUGI's followers, called OTA DOKWAN, offered to go and see; and, mounting his horse, he rode off at a great rate.  He had hardly started, when he returned, and said: -- "There is no doubt that the tide is out; so you had better move on the men as soon as possible."   
SADAMASA asked: -- "How can you tell that the tide is out without going to see?" 
DOKWAN replied: -- "There is a verso of poetry which says: -- 'By the sand-piper's voice, that is heard now near, now distant, you can tell whether the tide is out or whether it is in.'  By the distance of the sand-piper's notes I know that the tide is out."  
SADAMASA relied on the information, and acted accordingly.  He moved the troops on.  They found the tide low and passed the place of danger without any mishap.
This same DOKWAN was returning from a battle one day, when he and his followers had to cross the river Tone.  It was a very dark night, so that they could hardly see a step before them.  His followers were concerned as to how they should get across the river in safety; for it seemed impossible to tell where the river was deep and where shallow.  When DOKWAN was consulted about it, he said: -- "There is a poet who writes: -- 'Where the water is so deep that you cannot find its bottom, there it is still.  But where it is shallow, noisy waves are heard.  Cross where you hear the water flowing down with a noise."  This they did, and crossed safely. 

A FAITHFUL NURSE.
In the village of Nishitsu, situated in Mikata, Wakasa, there was a girl called TSUNA, who, when about thirteen years of age, was acting as nurse to her master. She was in the habit of carrying on her back the child of which she had charge.  
One day, when she was nursing the child, a wolf came along and was about to seize it, whereupon TSUNA, who had discovered what was happening, turned the child around and covered it over with her clothes.  The wolf attacked the girl and bit her badly in the back.  Just as he was biting her in another place, some one arrived, and the wolf ran away.  
Assistance was obtained, and they were about to convey TSUNA and the child home, when they found the nurse to be at the point of death.  
She turned her head and asked: -- "Is my master's child safe?"  
On being told that it was, she seemed satisfied, and immediately expired. 

TWO QUARRELLERS LOSE THAT FOR WHICH THEY ARE QUARRELLING. 
Once upon a time two beggars were squabbling about some rice, as to whose it should be.  During their quarrel, the rice was dropped.  Just then a dog came along, and, wagging his tail with delight, devoured all the rice. 
The beggars did not know what had occurred, but still continued their dispute. 
It often happens that people, being intent on their quarrels, do not notice that what they are contending for is carried off by a third party. 

CALMNESS IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 
WHEN TACHIBANA MUNESHIGE was about eight years old, he went out sight-seeing one day. There was a large number of people assembled in the place whither he went, and a quarrel commenced, and one man lost his life in the affray.  Whereupon, all the people that were around became frightened and ran away.  The person who was in charge of MUNESHIGE was going to take him away from the place.  He turned round; and, without the slightest mark of fear or concern in his looks said: -- "Is this all the sight-seeing we are to have to-day?"  The person in charge of him replied: -- "This is no place for sight-seeing.  A great quarrel has commenced, and we had better be off as soon as possible." 
Whereupon, MUNESHIGE replied: -- "What is the matter with you?  Why do you get in such a flurry? As we have done nothing to the people who are quarrelling, there is no reason why they should attack us.  What does it matter to us what the people over yonder are doing?  We have come here for sight-seeing, and we need not be hindered from carrying out our purpose by this quarrel."  They waited till the quarrel was over, and then finished their sight-seeing. 
Though children ought not to expose themselves to danger unnecessarily, when they meet with it they should try to keep calm and collected. 

SIMPLICITY. 
THERE was once a priest who received a twig of a willow tree, which he planted near his house and placed under the care of one of the boys in his employ.  The boy used to do his copies every day right in front of the tree.  For seven days he watched it very closely.  At the end of that time the priest called him and praised him for his pains.  "You have kept other boys from carrying off my tree very well," said the priest.  "Day after day you have watched it very attentively.  The only wonder is, however, that no one has come for it at night.  We shall have to look out for this." 
"He has thought of this," said one of the lad's companions who was standing near.  "Fearing that it might be carried off during the night, every night he has pulled it up and put it into his box, and then planted it again in the morning." 
This same lad, being the son of poor parents, he and they had to sleep under straw coverings.  The boy did not feel in any way ashamed of this, and often talked about it before people.  His father reproved him saying: -- "You should tell people that we sleep beneath bed-quilts." 
Not long after this a visitor happened to come to the house early one morning, and the lad's father got up in a hurry to receive him.  As he approached the visitor, "Father, father," cried the lad, "you have a bed-quilt on your back." 
The father in his hurry had carried off a little of the straw of the bed on his back; which the boy, as instructed, named a bed-quilt, not suspecting that his father wished him to tell a lie, but only thinking that this was another name for the straw used as a bed-covering. 

ONE IGNORAMUS INSTRUOTING ANOTHER. 
MINAMOTO HIROMUSHI had a boy in his employ who in his spare moments used to study various books.  "Chinamen tell nothing but lies," said this lad to a companion one day.  "What is called learning is nothing but a lot of nonsense put together in books.  Why, just look at this, here is a verse of RI HAKU's which speaks of grey hairs that grow to the length of thirty thousand feet.  The idea of there being such hair anywhere!"
"Your thinking this to be something wonderful is natural enough," said his companion.  "You have never studied much, and so, such a statement, of course, astonishes you.  If you were to go to college and be thoroughly instructed.  you would soon understand how much things can be.  China is a huge country, with some four hundred odd provinces.  Who is to say that, in a country so big as this, there may not have been a man with such hair as RI HAKU speaks of.  Have you never read in the Rongo of GAN EN BIN SHIKEN, that is to say, GAN EN whose head is twenty-four feet broad?  In such a country as China there is no saying what there is, and what there is not.  I see nothing to wonder at in what you say about the length of the hair." 
The first of these lads was an ignoramus, in that he condemned the whole of Chinese learning on account of one incredible statement with which he met.  The second showed his ignorance in mistaking a proper name (Bin Shiken) for a description of GAN EN. 

GI KWA'S DISCERNMENT. 
IN the SENGOKU period, there was in Shin, a province of China, a high officer of State named GI BUSHI.  One day, when very ill, GI BUSHI called his son KWA and thus addressed him: -- "Among my maid-servants there is one who has served me a long time.  She is a single woman, and has no friends, so I fear that after my death she may not know how to live unless you give her some help.  Do you therefore see that she gets a husband or another place." 
Shortly after this, BUSHI grew worse and again called KWA.  "As the woman of whom I spoke the other day has served me so long, I should like to have her go with me to the other world," said BUSHI, "and therefore you are to have her killed and buried in the same grave with me."  Immediately after this BUSHI expired. 
In speaking to his friends about what had taken place, KWA remarked: -- "What my father said first was said when in the full possession of his senses; what he said afterwards was uttered when his reason was leaving him.  I shall follow the former instructions and disregard the latter." 
In carrying out the instructions of the dying, caution must be used; for they often express wishes which, if not as cruel as that of BUSHI, are quite as unreasonable.  In the course he took, KWA showed no ordinary discernment. 

SAVED BY A DOG. 
A LONG way from this place, there is a land where it is very cold, and where much snow falls.  The hills there are very high, and people are often lost among them.  There are good men living in a house far up among those high hills, who keep large dogs.  These dogs are taught to search for people lost in the snow. 
The dogs have so keen a scent that they can find persons by that alone. 
The persons who are lost often lie covered in the deep drifts of snow, and the cold makes them so weak and faint that they sleep till the cold and frost kill them. 
One cold, bleak night, the snow fell fast, and the wind blew loud and shrill.  It was quite dark, and not a star was to be seen in the sky. 
The good men sent out a dog to search for any one who might want help.  In an hour or two, the dog was heard barking at the gate. 
On looking out, they saw him with a boy on his back.  The poor child was stiff with cold and could hardly hold on to the dog's back. 
The good men took the boy into their house, and, when he was warm and had eaten some food, he told them that he had lain for a long time in the snow, and was too weak to walk. 
The snow was falling fast on him, when he felt something pull him by the coat, and heard the bark of a dog close by him.  He put out his hand, and felt the dog, and then the dog gave him another pull. 
This gave the poor boy some hope, and he took hold of the dog, and drew himself out of the snow, but ho could not stand or walk. 
He then got on the dog's back, put his arms round its neck, and thus held on. 
He felt sure that the dog did not mean to do him any harm.  Thus he rode all the way to the good men's house. 
They took care of him till the snow was gone, and then they sent him to his home. 
You may be sure that the father and mother of this little boy were ever afterwards very kind to the brave dog which had saved their little son. 

THE FOX AND THE TIGER. 
ONCE upon a time, when a fox was on his rounds seeking a meal, he met a tiger.  "You, Mr. Tiger, are a very greedy animal, eating everything you can find wherever you go," said the fox; "I beg you will make an exception of me, as I have been appointed the sovereign of animals.  He that hurts me rebels against Heaven.  If you have any doubt of the truth of what I say, then walk after me and I will prove to you that I am telling no falsehood.  If you see every animal that we meet run away, then, be sure that it is because they own me to be their king." 
The tiger consented, and they started off on their tour.  It was as the fox said; the animals that they met, one and all fled as he approached. 
The tiger seeing this, exclaimed: "It is as the fox says; he is doubtless appointed by Heaven to reign over the animals."  It did not strike him that it was his own presence behind the fox that caused such dismay among the animals. 
The most powerful are often unconscious of their power. 

THE THING MOST TO BE FEARED. 
ONE night, when TOYOTOMI HIDEYOSHI was conversing with his friends, he put the following question to them: -- "What is the thing most to be feared on earth?" 
Those who were present said that there was nothing to be so much feared as one's superiors.  Among them, however, there was one who held a different opinion.  He was called BANNAI.  BANNAI here interposed: -- "To my mind there is nothing that need give us less concern than our superiors.  That which is most to be feared is our own want of judgment.  If we do what we feel to be right, our superiors, who are just and considerate men, will not find fault.  But nothing will make up for want of discrimination in us.  When right and wrong are confused together in our minds, there is no saying into what mistakes we may fall." 
HIDEYOSHI was pleased with this answer, because it was independent and thoughtful, whilst the other answers were given to please the men of rank who were present.  BANNAI was right.  The thing most to be feared is one's own deficiencies, and not any treatment one may receive from others.  If we are not enemies to ourselves, there is no enemy we need fear.  All success and all defeat usually find their origin in the state of our own minds. 

GENEROSITY BEGETS GENEROSITY. 
HONDA TADAKATSU was one of the four famous men who served IEYASU during the wars in which the latter was engaged.  When TADAKATSU was about to die, he gave his will to one of his councilors, a man called MATSUSHITA KAWACHI.  It was provided in the will that TADAMASA MINO-NO-KAMI, his eldest son, should succeed his father, according to the usual custom; and that all the weapons of war and all the horses and their harness, together with all other live stock, and all the buildings and the furniture they contained, should be given to the heir. . . "I have laid aside 15,000 ryo," said TADAKATSU in his will, "and as my second son, TADATOMO IZUMO-NO-KAMI, does not possess the means of getting money, I leave this sum to him."  
KAWACHI informed TADAMASA of the tenor of the will.  "For the eldest son to succeed to the property of his father is a recognized custom of the country," replied the latter.  "Of course all the property belongs to me, and all the money too.  I care nothing for the will.  It is contrary to what is right, and therefore I shall ignore it. 
Here KAWACHI went to the younger brother and made known to him the provisions of the will.  "As TADAMASA is the eldest son," replied TADATOMO, "his expenses will be great.  He has a large establishment to keep up, and, in addition to this, will often have to help people who are in distress.  Then, in time of war, his need of money will invariably be great.  I have no such need of money; and although my father's fondness for me has induced him to make his will in such a way, I do not care to take the money." 
KAWACHI went to TADAMASA, and told him what his brother had said.  TADAMASA, when he heard this, was very much ashamed of the ungenerous way in which he had treated his brother; and he said at once: -- "Please give to TADATOMO the money my father has left to him." 
TADATOMO, when this was reported to him, repeated what he had said before, and absolutely refused to take the money.  TADAMASA sent to his younger brother a second time, saying that their father's will ought to be respected, and that he had better take the money. 
TADATOMO replied that the younger son of a family had no power to do as he pleased with a parent's property, and that, therefore, he did not care to have anything to do with it.
Thus the two brothers failed to come to any settlement. 
Here the relatives interfered, and decided that the best way of arranging the matter would be to divide the money between the two.  This they agreed to do.  But TADATOMO said to his elder brother: -- "Whenever I want money for any object, I will come and take, so do you please keep my share for me."
The time at which he wanted money never came, and the boxes full of his money remained, with heir seals unbroken, in his brother's storehouse to the day of TADATOMO's death.  We see here how the generosity of TADATOMO aroused the dormant generosity of his brother.  And, as a consequence, they vied with each other, not as to who should have the money, but as to who should give it up. 

IEYASU'S HATRED OIF LYING. 
IN the affairs of his household, IEYASU showed a great deal of discretion.  Little faults, and even breakages, he said nothing about, but, if there was anything contrary to truth in things that were stated by his servants, he was very much annoyed and reproved them most severely.  In reference to this, the following incident is related: -- 
It happened after the Osaka war, when IEYASU was in the Nijo castle, that he had occasion to make some enquiries of a man called MISHUKU ECHIZEN, who was employed in the castle.  At the close of the conversation, ECHIZEN casually remarked that he had, during the Konodai war, accomplished several feats of valor. 
IEYASU pondered a little; and then asked: -- "How old are you?" 
Having heard the man's reply, he remarked: -- "The Konodai war occurred when HOJO UJIYASU was either a little over or a little under fifty years of age, and when his son UJIMASA was about twenty-six or seven.  Therefore you could only have been some four or five years old when you accomplished the feats of valor of which you speak.  The statement you have made is entirely false.  Get away out of my sight?" 
Here IEYASU's countenance changed, and he was so moved with anger that his face was dreadful to look at.  "If we allow such a man as this to remain connected with us in any way," he remarked, "there is no saying but that the evil habit which he has contracted may become fashionable among us.  Therefore something had better be done with him at once." 
What punishment ECHIZEN received is not recorded.  IEYASU died shortly after this, and it is not improbable that after his death the matter was allowed to drop. 

THOUGHTFULNESS. 
ONE day IEYASU was about to enter one of the rooms of his palace.  Hanging near the door of the room were a pair of trousers.  He was seen to take them down, and breathe on them, and rub out the creases with his own hand. �@A retainer who was at hand smiled at what had taken place. �@A little after, the SHOGUN turned to the retainer and said: -- "What you saw me do just now was not done on account of the value I place on the trousers considered in themselves, but rather on account of what they cost to produce.  They are the result of the toil of a poor woman; and therefore I value them.  If when we use things, we do not think of all the time and effort required to produce them, our inconsiderateness puts us on a level with the brutes." 

THE KYOTO FROG AND THE OSAKA FROG. 
ONCE upon a time, a frog who lived at Kyoto had long been desirous of going to see Osaka.  One spring, having made up his mind, he started off to see Osaka and all its famous places.  By a series of hops on all fours he reached a temple opposite to Nishi-no-oka.  Thence, by the western road, he reached Yamazaki, and began to ascend the mountain called Tennozan. 
Now, it so happened that a frog from Osaka had determined to visit Kyoto, and had also ascended Tennozan.  On the summit the two frogs met, made acquaintance, and told one another their intentions.
They began to complain about the trouble they had gone through, although they had only traveled half-way after all.  If they went on to Osaka and Kyoto, their legs and loins would certainly not hold out.  Here was the famous mountain of Tennozan, from the top of which the whole of Osaka and Kyoto could be seen: if they stood on tiptoe, stretched their backs, and looked at the view, they would save themselves from stiff legs.  Having come to this conclusion, they both stood on tiptoe, and looked about them, when the Kyoto frog said: -- 
"Really, looking at the famous places of Osaka, of which I have heard so much, they don't seem to me to differ a bit from Kyoto.  Instead of giving myself any further trouble to go on, I shall just return home."  The Osaka frog, blinking with his eyes, said, with a contemptuous smile: -- "Well, I have heard a great deal of talk about this Kyoto being as beautiful as the flowers, but it is just Osaka over again.  We had better go home." 
And so the two frogs, politely bowing to one another, hopped off home, each with an important swagger.
Now, although this is a very funny little story, you will not understand the drift of it at once.  The frogs thought that they were looking in front of them; but as, when they stood up, their eyes were in the backs of their heads, each was looking at his native place, all the while that he believed himself to be looking at the place he wished to go to.  The frogs stared to any amount, it is true; but then they did not take care that the object looked at was the right object, and so it was that they fell into error. -- A. B. MITFORD.
 
TRUE VIRTUE KNOWS NO DISTINCTION BETWEEN THE SECRET AND THE OPEN. 
In the Gokan period, there was, in China, a man called YO SHIN.  He was made the head of the district of Torai.  When on his way to assume office, he had to pass through the village of Shoyu.  The governor of this place was O MITUS; a man who had been put into office owing to the assistance given him by SHIN.  Therefore, when MITSU heard that SHIN had arrived, he took ten pieces of money in his purse, and went to the hotel where SHIN was staying. 
When MITSU offered the money to SHIN, SHIN remarked: -- "When I recommended you to office, I knew what kind of a man you were; but you evidently do not know what kind of a man I am, or you would not offer me this money." 
Whereupon MITSU said: -- "Why refuse thus?  It being night, no one will know anything about it, so please take the money." 
"You say that, because it is night, no one will know," replied SHIN.  "But I can tell you of four that will know: Heaven will know; earth will know; you will know; and I shall know.  So, there being four that will know, how can you say that no one will know?"  Whereupon O MITSU was very much ashamed of himself, and left off asking his benefactor to take the money.
  We must not divide conduct into the known and the unknown, and make virtue dependent on its publicity for its merit.  We must not be one thing in secret, and another thing in public.  As is taught in the Chuyo: -- "The wise man is not ashamed of people seeing what he does in the darkest corner of the house."

HIKOZAEMON'S MELONS. 
OKUBO HIKOZAEMON'S garden joined that of a man called KONDO NOBORI-NO-SUKE.  It happened that this NOBORI-NO-SUKE had a trick played on him by HIKOZAEMON, and he was desirous of retaliating in some way or other; so, as HIKOZAEMON's melons had stretched themselves over the fence and were hanging down in NOBORI-NO-SUKE's garden, the latter went out one day, cut them all off, and sent a letter to HIKOZAEMON to say that his melons had been rudely trespassing on his neighbor�fs ground, and that, as he, NOBORI-No-SUKE, was a knight, he could not brook such an insult: he had therefore cut off the heads of the trespassers. 
To this letter HIKOZAEMON replied that he was very sorry for the sad fate of his melons, but that, since justice had now been satisfied by the death of the offenders, according to custom, he begged NOBORI-NO-SUKE to hand over the dead bodies for burial. 
As this was the actual custom at the time, and NOBORI-NO-SUKE was as polite as he was brave, little though he relished the idea of being out-done in this way, he felt that there was no help for it: the melons must be returned.  This was done. 

NATURE SUPPRESSED AND REVIVED AGAIN. 
KUMAZAWA RYOKAI had a brother called IZUMI HACHIEMON, who was employed by the baron of Bizen.  Once it happened that two brothers came to this baron, for judgment about a field, the ownership of which was disputed.  Each of the brothers claimed to be the lawful owner.  There were present a large number of witnesses on both sides.  The baron, thinking that the case was a peculiar one and that it required delicate treatment, gave it into the hands of HACHIEMON to decide.
HACHIEMON sent away all the witnesses, and, taking the brothers, put them into a room by themselves.  "I am very busy with official business just now" said he, "but when it is over I will attend to your case." 
The brothers were left together in the same room in this way for several days and nights.  Together they took their meals, slept, and passed the day; but neither of them spoke a word. 
One day it was very cold, and a fire was placed before them.  Each one warmed himself by it, but without uttering a word.  After this had gone on for some time, the elder brother, who had thought well over the whole affair and deemed it high time to do something to put an end to it, now commenced: -- "When we were young we used to play together in a very friendly way, but now, owing to the promptings of outsiders, we have become estranged from each other about this field.  Had we not better give up this miserable wrangling and be friendly again.
The younger brother responded to this sentiment, and the two immediately went to HACHIEMON and told him that they had ceased to dispute about the field, and that they wished to cultivate it together. 
HACHIEMON, after giving them a lecture on the feelings that ought to exist between brothers, sent them home. 
HACHIEMON's object in placing them together was to give nature an opportunity of reasserting herself.  The natural feeling of the two brothers had been suppressed by the interference of outsiders and by the dispute about the property; but no sooner did a favorable opportunity come, than the good feelings, which were more deeply rooted than the bad ones in their hearts, reasserted their power and the two were friendly again.  Nature may be temporarily suppressed by outward circumstances, but she will be sure to resume her former position eventually. 

FALSE APPEARANCES OFTEN LEAD TO DANGEROUS RESULTS. 
ONCE upon a time, four men happened to be walking together across plain.  Near a point which they had to pass, a fox had been engaged in digging up some grass in search of insects.  He had found a great many, which he was busily devouring, when he looked up and saw four men approaching him. 
"If I stay where I am now, and try to hide," said the fox to himself, "it is most likely that these men will discover me, and I shall be killed.  If I run away, they will pursue me and slay me.  I will feign to be dead.  Thus I shall escape, and after they have gone by I will go on with my meal."  Thus saying, he stretched himself out on the ground, closed his eyes, suppressed his breath so that movement of the lungs was imperceptible, and looked as though he were dead.
  The four men approached the spot where he lay, "Halloo!" cried one of the men, "here is a fox lying dead." 
They consulted together as to what had best be done with him. 
One of them said, "We will take his tail and leave the body here;" another said, "We will cut off his ears and carry them home;" and another said, "No, we had better take out his eye-tooth." 
"Had I known that I was in danger of being treated thus, I would have run away before the men came," said the fox to himself.  "Here am I suffering the results of my own folly.  But, after all, to have one's tail or ears cut off, or a tooth pulled out, is better than losing one's life.  So I will grin and bear it, and still pretend to be dead." 
But here one of the men stepped forward, and said, "Rather than take his ears, his tail, or his tooth, had we not better take his head?" 
"Oh dear!" said the fox, "is it come to this?"  "I must be off." 
So up he jumped, and scampered off at a great rate! 
The men all followed him up, and, after a great deal of running, they succeeded in getting him into a corner where he could not escape, and here they killed him. 
The moral is that deceptive appearances, sooner or later, bring him who assumes them into trouble.  Men adapt the treatment they give us to their estimate of what we really are. 

A DARING ACT. 
ISHI-I HYOEMON [B. 1644 A.D.] was a native of Ogaki, Mino.  He and his father were both retainers of KATO KIYOMASA, and each received an annual income of two hundred koku of rice. 
When KATO KIYOMASA house came to ruin, HYOEMON was out of employ.  To get living he set himself up as a teacher of sword exercise; and his fame spread far and wide.  While he was thus engaged, it happened one day that there were three men who drank themselves tipsy at a sake saloon called "Tamari."  They grew very obstreperous; killed the owner of the saloon, and wounded several others who belonged to the house.  The neighbors lost no time in reporting the matter to the authorities, and soldiers were sent to arrest these disturbers of the peace.  But when they came to the place, they found that the rioters, who were up-stairs, had placed themselves at the head of the stairs with drawn swords, so that no one could get up to arrest them without risking his life. 
HYOEMON heard of what was occurring.  With his son HYOSUKE, he ran rapidly to the place where the disturbance was, and immediately offered his services to the embarrassed soldiers, who were glad enough to accept the offer. 
HYOEMON, however, told the officer in command that he could not promise to take all three of the men alive, but that if he were allowed to kill one, he would take the other two alive. 
"Very well," said the officer, "do as you propose." 
HYOEMON now consulted with his son as to the plan to be adopted.  "I," said the latter, "will go up and throw one of the men down to you, and do you be ready to seize and bind him." 
But HYOEMON would not consent to this, and, without further parley, he took a torch in his left hand, for it was night, and a sword in his right.  Rapidly he mounted the stairs, and with a loud voice called out.  "Come on, you scoundrels!" 
They all rushed on him with drawn swords, but he was too quick for them.  He dashed the torch in their faces, and amidst the confusion that it caused, before they knew what they were about, he had cut down one man, thrown another headlong down stairs, and was binding the third. 
This brave act was reported to the authorities, and twenty ryo worth of rice was offered to HYOEMON as a reward. 
But he refused to accept this remuneration, saying: -- "Samurai like myself are usually poor, but that is no reason why I should receive a reward for such an act.  If I were to take even a trifle, of course people would say, 'Here is a man who for the sake of gain is ready to throw away his life."
The second governor of the Castle of Osaka heard of this, and said: "A brave and true knight is HYOEMON." 
He sent him a sword and some choice wine, and not long after this gave directions that he should have an annual income of two hundred koku of rice assigned to him. 

A PRACTICAL JOKE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 
IN ancient times country folks used to come from Ohara to Kyoto to sell fire-wood.  And there was a man who was in the habit of selling it, among other places, at a small tavern in Bano-cho, Sanjo.  One day when he was there he forgot his sickle.  The keeper of the tavern thought that, as the owner of the sickle was a rustic, it would be great fun to hide the sickle and make the man talk his country brogue for the amusement of his guests.  This he did; the man came back, and looking here and there for his sickle, was told that there was no one appointed to take care of it, and that it was not there.  The man grew very angry, and with a loud voice said: "Are people to be allowed to steal a sickle in broad daylight, and the thief not be brought to justice? -- I won't stand it."  So off he ran to the district office, to report what had happened.  
The keeper of the tavern thought to himself: "Now the affair has gone so far, it will never do to say I have the missing article."  So, when called by the officers to whom the matter was reported, he said: "I know nothing about the man's sickle." 
"Just hand me your coat" said the Judge "and do you stay where you are."  The Judge took the coat, and sent a messenger privately to the house of the inn-keeper, with directions to speak as follows: -- "The master of this house says he wishes all the sickles in his house forwarded to him without delay, and, as a proof that I have actually been sent by him, he said I was to show you this coat." 
The wife of the inn-keeper did not know who the man was that came for the sickles; but seeing the coat, she thought there could be no mistake.  So she gave the sickles, which were five in number, and the messenger took them to the Judge.  The Judge showed the sickles to the countryman, and asked whether his was among them.  The man, without even taking the sickles in his hand, pointed to the one that he had lost, and said: "That is mine."  "Then take your sickle," said the Judge, "and go home, and look after it better next time; for what his sword is to a knight, that your sickle is to you." 
The Judge then turned to the inn-keeper, and said to him: "In my opinion you kept the man's sickle in order to get some fun out of him, for it is not to be supposed that a man of your standing would steal a poor man's sickle.  Yet your joke has caused you a great deal of trouble and expense, and other people a great deal of annoyance.  There are a large number of instances of this kind, where people are unnecessarily put to a great deal of inconvenience, You had better be careful in future that nothing of the kind happens." 

A THIEF RECLAIMED BY KINDNESS. 
IN ancient times there was a man called SEIKURO, who lived in Hokotate, a village of Yamato.  One day he put up two bags of rice ready for delivery to the government officials in payment of a tax. 
A thief came in the night and, seizing the rice, was about to carry it off when SEIKURO awoke from his sleep, and saw what was going on.  He thought he should like to reclaim the man, so he determined to do something to make him ashamed of his conduct.  He called out to him: "Oh!  you have come for the rice have you.  Well, I put it out there for you, so you may take it.  But I am afraid, though, that it will prove very inconvenient to you to have to carry such a heavy weight in the middle of the night.  Therefore, if you will wait till to-morrow night, between that and this I will turn the rice into money, and hand it over to you." 
The thief said: "Very well.  I will come again to-morrow night; and be sure you convert it into money by that time." 
The following day SEIKURO sold the rice, and awaited the arrival of the thief.  He did not come 'that night, but four or five nights after he returned, and said: "Well, what about the rice that you said you would turn into money?  Have you the money ready?" 
SEIKURO replied: -- "I thought that you were coming the next night, and so I sold the rice in a great hurry, And as you know, everything sold in a hurry is sold cheap; so I did not get as much for the rice as I might have done, had I known you were not coming for four or five days, But, however, here is the money that I got for it." 
The thief was taken by surprise.  He thought that SEIKURO would not keep his word.  He took the money in his hand for a moment, and then said: "I do not want this money, so please take it back."
SEIKURO asked: "Why act thus?  There surely can be no harm in taking what is given to you, so do please accept it as a gift from me." 
The thief replied: -- "No, never.  Whatever you like to say, I will not take it." 
Whereupon, SEIKURO asked: "What reason have you for not taking it?" 
"I have no heart to take anything, from one so straightforward as you," replied the thief." 
"Is it really so? asked SEIKURO. 
"Do you think I could tell a lie about such a matter?" replied the thief.  To which SEIKURO answered: "If this be your state of mind, then you are a virtuous man, despite your profession.  You are a virtuous man, but one who does not appear as such.  And, since it is not good that people should be one thing and appear to be another, how would it be if you were to make up your mind to appear to the world to be what you are?" 
To which the thief replied: "Well, I do not want to be a thief; but I do not know what to do for a living. I cannot starve, and therefore I thieve." 
Here SEIKURO remarked: "There are many ways of getting a living besides resorting to robbery.  And, if you wish it, I will find something for you to do." 
To this the thief consented, and became a reformed man. 

SHREWDNESS. 
WHEN the Japan expedition went to Corea, KURODA NAGAMASA was very desirous of finding out how wide the river Heian was.  Some said it was ten cho wide, and others that it was thirteen.  NAGAMASA asked YOSHIDA MATASUKE to measure the distance across with his eye and let him know the result. 
MATASUKE replied that he was unaccustomed to do anything of this kind, and he had no idea as to how it was to be done. 
"Perhaps then," said NAGAMASA, "you have some one under your command who is sharp about such matters." 
The next morning MATASUKE took one of the soldiers, and went to the river side.  Just at this time there were three Coreans standing on the opposite side of the Heian close to the water.  MATASUKE said to the soldier: "Your height and that of the Coreans yonder is about the same, so do you run along the bank of the river till I tell you to stop." 
The man set off, and when he appeared to be just the same distance from MATASUKE as the Coreans, the former called out to him to stop.  Then MATASUKE measured the distance between the man and himself, and found it to be eight cho and a half.  "This," said he, "is the distance across the river."  
NAGAMASA was surprised to find so much shrewdness in so young a man. 

HIKOZAEMON AND THE STEWED CRANES. 
ONCE it happened that IEYASU gave a banquet in celebration of some event, and among the dishes there was one consisting of cranes stewed with greens.  Among those who dined with the Shogun on this occasion was OKUBO HIKOZAEMON.  Not being of high rank, HIKOZAEMON was one of the last to whom food was served.  Having been informed, when invited, that stewed crane was to be one of the dishes, he looked forward to a treat; but, to his surprise, there was nothing but greens handed to him, the meat having been all given to the higher officers. 
A few days afterwards he paid the usual visit of ceremony to thank the Shogun for the entertainment.
"Ah, HIKOZAEMON!" said the Shogun, referring to the banquet," it was the first time you ever had a meal of that kind, I expect.  The stewed cranes was quite a new dish to you, eh?" 
"Indeed, it is not so," replied HIKOZAEMON, "I have it nearly every day.
"You have cranes every day!  Why, -- Even I can only get them now and again.  It is impossible that a man in your circumstances should dine off so costly a dish every day." 
"Very well, if you do not believe it, shall I send you some to-morrow?" asked HIKOZAEMON. 
"Certainly," replied the Shogun. 
As HIKOZAEMON was much given to joking, IEYASU thought there might be something jocular connected with this offer, but, he determined, at all events, to wait and see what the old man meant.
The next day HIKOZAEMON collected a quantity of greens, and, placing them on a handsome tray, presented them to the Shogun. 
"What have you brought?" asked IEYASU.  "Are they not greens?" 
"Such is the name I have always been taught to call them," replied HIKOZAEMON, "but with great personages like yourself what I call greens are called cranes.  A little time ago you asked me to be present at a banquet where stewed cranes were to be served up, but instead of cranes, greens were dished up and handed to me.  Therefore it was that I said that I was in the habit of eating every day what you considered to be a rarity." 
The cook was called, and it was found that as the demand for the stewed cranes was great, and as HIKOZAEMON's rank was low, there was nothing but greens left in the dish by the time it came to his turn to be served. 

MIZUTANI HANRY AND HIS HEIRLOOMS. 
IN 1842, when MIZUTANI HANRYO was just twenty years of age, the crops in his territory failed, and, as the farmers were in great distress, HANRYO decided to reduce the annual dues each one had to pay to one third of the usual amount. 
His councilors, when they heard what he proposed doing, came to him and said: "If you act thus, it will be impossible to find the wherewithal to maintain your household." 
HANRYO thereupon took six swords that had been handed down from generation to generation in his family, and said to one of the councilors: -- "Here take these, and, employing them as a surety, see whether you cannot borrow some money of somebody or other." 
The councilor took the swords, and did his best to obtain a good sum of money, but he could not find anyone who would lend more than about half the amount the weapons were worth.  So he went and reported this fact to HANRYO. 
"Sell the swords then," said HANRYO. 
"You surely will not consent to this " replied the councilor.  "We will devise means of getting money without disposing of the heirlooms of the family." 
"I would sell a thousand heirlooms rather than that the members of our household should lack the necessaries of life," said HANRYO.  "What is the use of swords without people?  This is a time of distress when the saving of people's lives is the first thing to be thought of.  I could not do less than I have done for the distressed farmers; and if the step I have taken causes trouble in my house, then, let the swords be sold.  If we have people we can do without these swords.
"They sold the swords and realized sufficient money to meet the expenses of that year.  The next year was a prosperous one with the farmers.  They had heard of the sale of the swords and were very much affected by it.  They thought they could not show their gratitude to their lord for his kindness to them in any better way than by repurchasing the six swords and returning them to him.  This they did.
When HANRYO saw what they had done he exclaimed: "True is the saying, 'If the master is upright, the servant is faithful.'  Its meaning has never struck me so forcibly before.  My selling my swords and relieving the farmers from their distress, may be said to be an upright piece of conduct.  And the farmers buying back these swords and returning them to me, shows that they on their part are faithful." 
After this HANRYO gave orders that during that year only two-thirds of the annual dues on the land should be collected. 
The farmers remonstrated, saying: "As the crops are so good, there is no reason why our lord should distress himself any further.  We hope he will let us pay the usual amount in full!" 
"A wise man never withdraws his words," said HANRYO.  "Therefore let it be as I have said." 
The farmers shed tears of gratitude at this great generosity. 

DIFFERENT SIDES TO EVERY QUESTION. 
IN Toga-no-o, Kyoto, there was a very famous and virtuous priest called MYO-E, who had a young boy in his employ, whose name is not recorded, but who, after he had been with him some little time, returned one day to his home and said to his parents: "The priest with whom I have been staying is a most unreasonable man.  I could not live with him any longer, and therefore I have come home.  When the razor comes out of its socket whilst I am shaving his head, he blames me for putting it to rights again.  When I mash the miso in the morning, he says: 'Why do you mash the miso?'  When I clean the temple, he comes and asks: 'Why do you clean the temple?'  To be found fault with in this way from morning to night is more than I can stand." 
The parents went to the priest, and said in a somewhat angry mood: "Our child is still very young, and therefore may do a great many things that are not right, but we beg that you will not be unreasonable with him." 
"You have evidently been misinformed as to what has happened," replied the priest.  "When your son was shaving my head the other day, the razor came out of its socket, and he hammered it in on my head.  When he is set to mash the miso, instead of taking the proper stick to do it with, he takes a soup ladle, and throws the miso about all over the place.  Then he takes the cleaning utensils that are specially kept for cleaning the idols, and uses them in all the dirtiest parts of the temple, after which he comes back and commences to clean the idols with them, this makes the idols dirtier than they were before."
It does not do to hear one side of any question.  The lad only told a part of what had happened and so succeeded in deceiving his parents.  Partial information is often worse than none at all. 

KOSHI AND THE TWO YOUNG DISPUTANTS. 
KOSHI, when on a tour through the eastern provinces, heard two children arguing with each other about the distance of the sun from the earth.  One contended that the sun was nearer to men at sunrise than at noon, because it looked so much larger at sunrise than at noon.  The other objected to this argument, asserting that the sun was nearer at noon than at sunrise, because it was hotter at the former time than at the latter, 
They appealed to the philosopher, who, after hearing both arguments, refused to give his opinion about the matter. 
The children disappointed, exclaimed with raillery: -- "How can you deserve the honor of being called a wise man?" 

HOW THE EMPEROR MEI MEASURED DISTANCE. 
WHEN the Emperor MEI of the Shin dynasty was still a child of six or seven years, his father loved him very dearly.  One day, as he sat on his father's knee, a messenger came from Choan (a distant city), and the father asked the lad which was the farther away, Choan or the sun. 
He replied that Choan was the nearer, because a messenger had come from that place while none had as yet arrived from the sun. 
The old Emperor was greatly pleased at the answer, and the next day, he made a feast and invited some of his subjects, before whom he asked the boy the same question that he had put the day before.  But this time the lad replied that the sun was nearer than Choan. 
His father was surprised at the answer, and asked the reason.  The young prince replied that the sun was nearer because it could be seen every day, while no one could see Choan no matter how long he might look in the direction of that city. 
This answer also pleased the old Emperor. 

A REAL AND AN ADOPTED SON'S REGARD FOR EACH OTHER. 
IN Kori, a village belonging to the district of Oii, in Wakasa, there was, in ancient times, a farmer called YOZAEMON, who was a most benevolent man.  He was married, but had no children. 
One night a woman came to his house in great distress.  "I have made," she said, "the round of the shrines and the temples, worshipping all the gods and divinities, but none of them have given me what I want.  I am still very poor, and do not know how to maintain myself, to say nothing of my child.  I have often thought that I would leave my child on the roadside for anyone to pick up that happened to come along, but I have always feared that he might be devoured by a wolf, and so I have done my best to keep him alive to this day.  But how I am to continue maintaining him, I do not know.  Will you not be so good as to relieve me of the burden?  Do take the child and bring it up as your own." 
YOZAEMON's compassionate heart was moved by this appeal, and he agreed to adopt the child.  His wife come forward, and said: "As I have no child of my own, it is a very good thing that a child has been given to us in this way.  May we not look on it as the gift of Heave?'' 
So they adopted the boy, and gave him the name of SOSHIRO. 
Eight years after this event, YOZAEMON's wife had a child -- a boy, whom they named ISOHACHI. The adopted and the real son were very friendly to each other, and both worked hard on the farm.  
The younger brother after a while went out into service.  One day SOSHIRO said to his father: "As you know, I am not your real son.  I am not, therefore, the proper heir to your property; so you had better bequeath it to ISOHACHI." 
The father related to ISOHACHI what SOSHIRO had said. 
"For the elder brother to give place to the younger one in this way, said ISOHACHI, is not in accordance with what is right." 
SOSHIRO heard what ISOHACHI had said, and he thought to himself: "As long as I remain in his house, YOZAEMON will never bequeath the property to his real son; so I had better leave the house and go out into service."  This he did. 
After some time, the father died; and it was necessary that one or other of the sons should become his heir and take charge of the property.  Neither of them was willing to do so.  ISOHACHI said to SOSHIRO: -- "You are the lawful heir." 
ISOHACHI replied: -- "No, you were a son before I was born, and therefore you are the lawful heir." 
The village authorities did not know how to settle the matter; so they took it to the Sheriff of the county, and as he, too, did not know how it ought to be decided, it was referred to the Baron. 
The Baron was very pleased to hear of the case.  He called the two brothers, and decided that the property should be inherited by the adopted son, as he was the elder.  But to show his appreciation of the noble conduct of the younger brother, he took him into his employ, and exalted him to the rank of a knight. 

CHIN SHOKU AND THE THIEF. 
IN the Gokan period, there was in China a noted man called CHIN SHOKU.  One night a thief entered his house, and hid somewhere in the roof, waiting his time to thieve after the inmates of the house had retired to rest. 
When SHOKU had discovered that the man was there, without saying anything to him, he called the members of his household, and sitting down in a most dignified manner, commenced to lecture them thus: -- "People must endeavor to depart from evil and do good.  Men are not bad originally, but get bad from falling into bad habits."  Then, pointing to the thief, he continued, "This man here in the roof is an example of this." 
The thief was very much astonished at what he heard.  Descending from the roof, he came and confessed his crime, and asked for pardon.  "You do not appear to be like one who steals because he is wicked," remarked SHOKU, "but rather like one who steals because he is poor."  Whereupon, SHOKU gave him four rolls of silk. 
The man went away much affected. 

DOI TOSHIKATSU AND THE PIECE OF SILK.
DOI TOSHIKATSU, when walking one day, picked up a piece of foreign-spun silk, about one foot long, and gave it to one of his retainers called ONO NIHYOE, saying to him: -- "Keep this carefully." 
Some of the attendants who were present smiled at what they considered the meanness of the action. TOSHIKATSU took no notice of them. 
One day, just three years after this, the girdle of TOSHIKATSU's sword broke.  He called NIHYOE, and asked for the piece of silk that he had entrusted to him.  NIHYOE immediately produced it.  He had carried it about with him in a bag attached to his waist. 
TOSHIKATSU took the silk and with his own hand tied up the broken girdle.  Then, with a smile on his countenance, he said: "Now I see what is meant by 'the use of the useless.'"  Whereupon he called the officer who had charge of his household and business affairs, a man named TERATA --  -- , and said to him: "I admire immensely the care with which NIHYOE carries out the wishes of his master.  It is my pleasure that land capable of yielding 300 koku of rice per annum be bestowed on him."  TOSHIKATSU went on to remark that the silk which had been picked up was made in China.  "And," said he, "it takes some time to make.  The silk worm that produces it has to be fed, and the silk wound off, before it is fit for use.  Then it has to be carried across the wide sea before it reaches us here in Japan.  See, then, what an amount of labor is required to get it here!  Though the piece I picked up only measured about a foot, yet had I neglected to take care of it, I should have been guilty of throwing away the gifts of Heaven.  That act of NIHYOE's, the preservation of the silk, therefore, was no other than an act done in the service of Heaven." 

UNSELFISHNESS. 
In Ro, a province of China, there was a man called BIN SON.  His mother died early.  His father married again, and had two children by his second wife.  The mother took the greatest care of her own children, clothing them in winter with garments lined with wool.  But SON, the child of the former wife, was treated badly; instead of wool-lined clothes, he wore garments that were lined with the flower of the reeds that grow by the river side. 
In the winter, when one day SON was acting as coachman to his father, owing to being insufficiently clothed, his hand were pinched with the cold, and he could not feel the reins; so he accidentally let them drop from his hands. 
His father, who was inside the coach, asked him why he had let the reins drop.  He did not reply.  His father tried to find out the reason for himself without questioning him further.  When he looked at the boy, he soon found that it was owing to his hands being cold that he had dropped the reins.  And when he came to ask himself, how it was that his hands were so cold, he saw that it was owing to the bad clothing which his mother had put on him.  
SON's father was very angry at what he had discovered, and determined to divorce his wife. 
When SON heard of this, he came forward and pleaded for his step-mother as follows: -- "May I beg of you, father, not to divorce my mother.  If she remains in your house, I alone shall be the one to suffer.  The other two children will be well cared for.  But if she goes, all three of your children will suffer; so please allow her to stay." 
The father listened to the entreaty of his son, and kept his wife.  The mother was sorry for what she had done, and ever after treated the three children all alike. 

PRECOCITY. 
IN Gi, one of the states of ancient China, at the time when the whole of China was in a disturbed condition, and the three kingdoms, Shoku, Gi, and Go were at war with one another, there was born a man called TO CHU. 
CHU was, as a child, very clever beyond his fellows.  In the general precocity which he showed he often astonished the wisest men of his time. 
When CHU was only five or six years old, the King of Go, SON KEN, presented an elephant to the King of Gi, SO SO.  SO wished to know how much the animal weighed.  He asked a great many people how heavy they thought it was; but no one could do more than guess at its weight. 
CHU was consulted about it, and he soon thought of a plan for finding it out.  He told them to put the elephant in a boat, and to make a mark on the boat showing the depth to which it sank with the weight of the animal.  Then he had the elephant removed, and things, whose weight was well known, put in in sufficient quantity to sink the boat to the same extent as it had been sunk by the elephant.  He thus found out the animal's weight. 
SO was delighted with the lad's sagacity; and pleased also to know the weight of the elephant. 

FALSE APPEARANCES AND THEIR CONSEQUENCE. 
ONCE it happened that a priest was called to attend a certain family on duty.  He started for the place in a palanquin, but on the way the bottom of the palanquin came out, and the priest was precipitated into the mud.  He did not know what to do.  If he walked he would make his clothes still more unpresentable, for it was a very dirty day, and yet it did not seem safe to ride in such a conveyance.
The bearers, however, tied the palanquin together with ropes, and begged him to get in again; which no sooner had he done than it began to creak as though it were all going to pieces. 
"This will never do," said the priest, hastily alighting from the palanquin, "you had better bind it together in some better way.  Here is some oiled paper; put that around it and tie it tight." 
This was done, and the priest got in again.  They had not proceeded far before they met some old people on their way home from a temple, where they had been listening to a sermon from their pastor. 
"Ah!" said an old man, "it is just as we have been hearing.  What is more fleeting than human life?  There goes one on his way to the grave.  We cannot tell when any one of us may have a call from AMIDA.  We ought to be careful how we live that we may be ready at any time." 
They thought by the whole appearance of the repaired palanquin that it was a corpse the men were bearing along.  The priest heard these remarks and felt very uncomfortable.  "To be taken for a corpse is most unpleasant," said he to himself.  "I will soon show them that I am alive."  Here he gave a loud cough. 
"Hark!" said one of the old people, "it is not a corpse, but a criminal that they are taking somewhere.  Don't go too close to him or you will be found fault with." 
The priest was still more annoyed.  To be taken for a corpse was better than being taken for a criminal.  He kicked his feet against the sides of the palanquin in his rage, and called out: "I am no criminal." 
"Ah!" said the old people, "it is a madman they are carrying." 
The spectators were not to blame.  They only judged by appearances, as people always do.  The priest was very foolish to take so much notice of the affair. 

WHERE THERE IS A WILL THERE IS A WAY. 
I.
IN China, in ancient times, there was a man called KYO KO who was very fond of reading, but who, being poor, was not able to purchase a light to read by.  In the next house there was a light, but it was of no use to him, as the house was separated from his by a plaster wall.  He thought of a device for getting light.  He opened a little hole in the wall, and putting the book close to it, obtained light enough to read by. 
There was a wealthy farmer in the neighborhood who possessed a great many books.  KO heard of this, and very much desired to be allowed to read them.  Having no money to give the farmer, he went and offered himself as a farm laborer, and, instead of receiving wages, asked to be permitted to read the books.  Permission was granted.  He read all the books the farmer had, which gave him such a taste for learning that by degrees he became a great scholar, and subsequently was made a prime minister. 
II.
There was once a Chinaman called SHA IN, who was a very diligent student and examined into everything very closely.  But he was so poor that he could not afford to buy lamp oil.  As a substitute for this, gathered a number of fire-flies, and putting them into a thin muslin bag, read by the light they gave. 
III.
There was another Chinaman called SON KO, who, because too poor to purchase a light, heaped up a quantity of snow and read by the light it afforded. 

MOSHI'S EARLY TRAINING. 
WHEN MOSHI was very young, his mother's house was situated on the outskirts of a town, near a cemetery.  Funerals were constantly taking place before the child's eyes.  And as children will imitate everything, one of his childish sports was to mimic the funeral rites. 
His mother noticed this, and said to herself: -- "This is not a suitable place for the bringing up of my child."  So she took a house in the town and moved into it. 
Whereupon MOSHI commenced to mimic the ways of shopkeepers.  "This, also, will not do," said the mother; so she moved into a house next door to a school. 
MOSHI now commenced to imitate all that went on in the school; and so, by degrees, the usages of polite society became familiar to him. 
When his mother saw this, she said: "At last I have found a suitable place for my child."  So she decided to reside there for some time. 
After a while, when her son was big enough to go to school, she sent him to a boarding school situated at some little distance from her place of abode. 
MOSHI returned to his home before he had completed the prescribed course.  When he reached the house, his mother happened to be weaving a piece of cloth.  When she saw that her son had come back, and knew that his course was not finished, she cut the piece of cloth that she was weaving into two pieces before his eyes, and said to him: -- "Your returning from school before you have finished your studies, is just like my cutting this cloth into two parts.  It cannot be joined again so as to appear as it did before." 
MOSHI's after life was very much influenced by the instruction he received from his mother in his early days. 

A WOMAN DEFENDS HERSELF AGAINST TWO ROBBERS. 
ONCE upon a time there was in the village of Kamikawa, Ashikaga, Yashu, a woman called HATSU, who was the wife of a man called IPPACHI.  A year after the birth of her only child, a boy, her husband died. 
Her friends advised her to return to her parents' house with the child, but she objected to this plan.  She remained therefore in her late husband's house, and there attended to the daily wants of her mother-in-law and her little boy.  She made a little money by farming and by spinning cotton.  But being a woman and unassisted, she could do no more than make two ends meet. 
One dreary wet night, the mother-in-law retired early to rest, but HATSU worked on as usual till twelve o'clock, when she lay down by the side of her child, who had now reached the age of five.  She had not been asleep long before two robbers forced open the front door of the house, and one of them approaching HATSU, said: -- "If you open your mouth I will kill you on the spot."  The other robber went to the mother-in-law, and arousing her, asked where the money was to be found. 
"Do you think that there is any money in such a poor house as this," replied the woman. 
"Keep quiet, you noisy old thing," said the robber.  Unless you remain as still as a mouse, I will cut you to pieces" Here he flourished the sword about her head. 
Whereupon the mother-in-law gave a loud scream.  HATSU, hearing this cry of distress, rose to the occasion; and rushing at the robber who was about to cut her mother-in-law down, pushed him to one side.  The other robber, seeing this, was very angry, and made a cut at her, but she escaped with only a slight wound.  Nothing daunted, she held her own against the two robbers, calling out all the while, "Thieves! thieves!" at the top of her voice.  Though wounded in five or six places, she still continued the contest, so anxious was she to save the life of her child and that of her mother-in-law. 
The neighbors heard the scuffle and the screaming of the child, and came rushing in, bearing torches, clubs, and other weapons.  The robbers thought it was time to be off, so they made for the door, but HATSU pursued one of them, and putting her arms around him, held him so tight that he could not get away; the other whilst attempting to escape, was surrounded and captured by the neighbors. 
Until now excitement had kept HATSU up; but no sooner did she know that her mother-in-law was safe and the robbers taken than her spirits gave way and she fainted. 
The neighbors, however, succeeded in bringing her round.  When they came to examine her, they found that she had no less than twelve wounds on her body; and some of them were so serious that they had little hope of her recovery.  They sent off at once to the government authorities, and informed them how matters stood.  Doctors were despatched to her without delay, and to the surprise of everybody she gradually recovered. 
The authorities were informed of the exemplary manner in which HATSU had worked for her living previous to the night on which the encounter took place, and of the object she had in view in fighting so desperately with the two robbers.  Out of consideration for her praiseworthy conduct, they directed that no tax was to be levied on her land for that year, and that the sum of fifty ryo should be given to her. 

A MODEL BROTHER. 
IN the SHIN period [A.D. 265-477] there were in JO, a district of China, two brothers who were very much attached to each other.  The elder brother was called O SHO, and the younger O RAN. 
RAN's mother was the step-mother of SHO.  She treated SHO very badly.  From very early days RAN noticed how badly his brother was treated, and he often used to cry about it.  He sometimes went to his mother and begged her to be more kind to SHO, and then for a short time she would treat his brother more considerately; but this did not last long. 
One day, when SHO was set to perform some arduous task, RAN determined to try a new plan with his mother.  He made up his mind that, whenever his mother gave his brother any unpleasant work to do, he would go and help him.  This he did in the present instance. 
Baffled in this, the mother tried to make up for it by persecuting SHO's wife.  But RAN's wife followed her husband's example, and helped SHO's wife in everything she was ordered to do. 
At last the mother saw that she could not persecute those she hated without injuring those she loved; so she had to discontinue this kind of persecution. 
After this, as SHO grew older he became known as a very upright man, and was praised on every side.  His step-mother was so jealous of his reputation that she determined to kill him.  So she prepared some poisoned wine which she asked him to drink.  RAN discovered this, and with great difficulty kept his brother from drinking the wine. 
After this, RAN took the precaution of tasting all the food which their mother prepared for his brother.  On this account, the mother was unable to kill SHO unless she killed her own son at the same time.
This strong brotherly affection continued unaltered throughout their lives.  They both rose to high positions in the country. 

TRUTH AND DEATH, OR FALSEHOOD AND LIFE. 
IN 1575 A.D., during the Nagashino war, when ODA NOBUNAGA was fighting against TAKEDA KATSUYORI, the castle of Nagashino was besieged by KATSUYORI's force.  The garrison was reduced to great extremity, and almost despaired of being able to hold out any longer, when one of the soldiers, a man called TORI-I SUNE-EMON, said that he was prepared to go and see whether NOBUNAGA was coming to relieve the castle or not. 
This offer was accepted, and during the night SUNE-EMON set out.  He had great difficulty in getting away; for the enemy had put rope all around the castle, and in order to find out whether this rope was touched by anyone they attached noisy scare-crows to it.  But he skillfully cut the rope without making any noise, and got away. 
He first went to IEYASU, who despatched him to NOBUNAGA, whose forces were then encamped at Chiryu.  NOBUNAGA said that he would set out to relieve the place at once. 
SUNE-EMON returned without delay to Nagashino.  But he found it more difficult to get into the castle than it was to get out of it.  It was guarded so closely that he found that it would be impossible to effect an entrance unless he did it by stratagem.  So he pretended to be a common coolie, and carried a bundle of bamboos into the enemy's camp, hoping that he would thus find an opportunity of entering the castle during the night.  But he was discovered, and taken before the commander, KATSUYORI, who enquired minutely of him into the business which he left the castle to transact. 
When KATSUYORI had found out the particulars of the case, he said to SUNE-EMON: "I will save your life, and take you back to my house, where I will bestow on you a large grant of land; but out of consideration for this, there is one thing I wish you to do, viz., go to the precincts of the castle and with a loud voice say: -- 'ODA NOBUNAGA cannot come to your assistance, therefore you had better surrender the castle to KATSUYORI.'  If you refuse to do this, you shall be crucified." 
"You promise to save my life," replied SUNE-EMON, "What more can I expect?  But you speak of giving me land also.  Why, of course, I will do anything you ask and say anything you bid me.  Let me go at once and execute this business.  I should like to be placed on something elevated, so that, my voice may be heard distinctly by all who are in the castle." 
KATSUYORI gave orders that SUNE-EMON should be fastened to a cross, and that the cross should be elevated close to the castle walls, and that, in case he did not fulfill his promise, he should be transfixed to the cross and put to death on the spot. 
In this position, then, TORI-I SUNE-EMON delivered his message as follows: -- "TORI-I SUNE-EMON has been taken prisoner, and you see the predicament he is now in.  All you that are in the castle! come out and listen to what I have to say." 
The besieged men shouted to each other, "SUNE-EMON!  SUNE-EMON!" and soon the ramparts were crowded with listeners. 
"They say," proceeded SUNE-EMON, "that if I will declare that NOBUNAGA is not coming to your rescue my life shall be spared, and I shall have land bestowed on me.  But the truth is, he is coming; he himself has got as far as Okazaki already, and his advanced guard have reached ICHI-NO-MIYA.  JO-NO-SUKE has arrived at Yawata; and IEYASU has reached Noda.  Guard the castle well, therefore, for within three days fortune will smile on you.  Please inform the commander-in-chief of these particulars." 
Here SUNE-EMON was not allowed to say more, but was immediately crucified.  SUNE-EMON had to choose between truth and death, and life and falsehood; he chose truth and death, and nobly laid down his life rather than betray his fellow-soldiers into the enemy's hands. 

CHO KOGEI'S HOUSEHOLD MOTTO. 
DURING the reign of the Emperor KOSO [A.D. 650-683] there was in China a man called CHO KOGEI, who provided a maintenance for several generations of his family.  He allowed all his relations to live in his house, and succeeded in keeping them from quarrelling. 
The emperor KOSO heard of this, and, when passing near KOGEI's house one day, stopped his retinue before the door, and entering the house, thus addressed its master: -- "I hear that you have ruled your house well for a very long time, and that the members of your family and their relations are all very friendly to each other.  With so many people in one house, it would not be surprising if there were constant quarrels.  How is it that you have managed to prevent this?" 
Here KOGEI took a pen and wrote the character for patience one hundred times, and pointing to it said: -- "This is the secret of my success." 

A BRAVE LAD. 
IN the Shinano district, in the village of Uchiyama, about a century ago, there was a child who was the son of a man called SOEMON.  The lad's name was KAMEMATSU, and he was about eleven years of age. 
One day this boy went with his father to cut some grass on the Hafu mountains.  When it grew dark, they went into a little hut, where they kindled a fire, by the side of which they lay down. 
Whilst they were there, a wolf came, first seized SOEMON's leg, and then sprung at his face.  The father laid hold of the ears of the wolf, and called out with a loud voice to his son.  KAMEMATSU, who was asleep, jumped up, and seizing the hook with which he had been cutting grass, thrust it into the animal's mouth and tried to cut its throat.  Unfortunately, however, the handle came off the hook.  Whereupon he snatched up the one his father had been using and forcing it into the wolf's mouth, managed to make him beat a retreat.  SOEMON, in his wounded condition, could not give much assistance to his son.  But KAMEMATSU, nothing daunted, took some stones and pushed them into the animal's mouth, and then hammered out its eye tooth with the hook that was in his hand.  The wolf, however, did not succumb, but turned on KAMEMATSU. 
The boy now became desperate, and thrusting his thumbs into the wolf's eyes, put them out.  Thus he saved his father's life, and the father and son went home together. 
His father soon recovered from his wounds.  The child had always been a weak, sickly lad, and no one, seeing him, would have thought him capable of accomplishing such a brave deed.  The Government heard of what the boy had done and rewarded him. 

EXCESS IS NO BETTER THAN DEFICIENCY. 
IT is related that in ancient times, somewhere in China, a master gave five or six of his servants a cup of wine.  The wine was not sufficient for them all, so in order to decide whose it should be, they agreed that each one of them should sketch a serpent with his finger on the earth, and whoever finished his sketch first should have the wine. 
They all set to, and in a very short time one of their number had finished his serpent.  "There," said he, "I am the first.  How slow you fellows are!  As I have so much time on hand, I will do the feet as well as the rest of the body."  Here he commenced to draw feet for his serpent. 
  The one who finished next, seeing this, quietly took the wine and drank it all up.  On the other's remonstrating with him for doing this, he replied: -- "You have been over confident of victory, and have therefore been defeated.  To exceed is no better than to be deficient.  As he who sketched a serpent first was to have the wine, and you have drawn something that is not a serpent, the wine was mine by right." 

AN UNGUARDED HEART AND UNEMPLOYED STRENGTH. 
IN one of the sermons of Mr. SHO-O, the following fable occurs: -- 
It happened once that a fiend shut up in a cage was offered for sale in front of a certain house.  The people near the house all wondered what kind of a thing this fiend could be.  They ran about in a great state of excitement and alarm, until at last the man who had the fiend opened the cage in which he was confined.  Sure enough, there was the fiend -- a creature of prodigious size and strength, and dreadful to look at. 
"Won't he bite?" asked one. 
"What can he do?" asked another. 
"Is he good for anything?" asked a third. 
"He will do the work of a hundred men," said the owner. 
"Ah, that is good," replied one of the listeners.  "How much do you ask for him?" 
"A thousand ryo." 
The people were all taken aback by the price.  But before very long a sake distiller came forward and said: -- "I employ about a hundred men every day to make sake, and if this fiend will do the work of all these hands, I will buy him." 
"If you really intend to buy him," replied the man, "I will let you know how he should be used; as unless such creatures are used properly they will not work.  One thing you must be most careful about is, to give the fiend notice over night of the work he has to do the next morning.  If you neglect to do this, there is no saying what will happen." 
The sake distiller bought the fiend, sent away all his workmen, and for some time, night after night, was very careful to give the creature full instructions as to what was to be done on the following day. 
The first morning the master, curious to see how the fiend managed to get through so much work, watched him closely.  The fiend got up very early in the morning, lit the fires and cooked his rice.  While he was taking his meal, he set fifty mills for grinding rice in motion and kept them going with his feet all at one time.  He got through all his work by sunset.  The master was astounded, and said to himself: -- "This is a good investment.  In six months I shall get back the thousand ryo I have laid out, which means that in fifty years I shall realize a hundred thousand ryo.  I really do not know what I shall do with all this money." 
One day the master of the house went off on a holiday and came home tipsy.  In this state he fell asleep without telling the fiend what was to be done the following day.  The next morning the fiend awoke, and not knowing what to do, and not being able to remain idle, commenced to work mischief.  He lit the fire and placed a huge cauldron full of water over it.  'The master's wife got up and went out to see what the fiend was doing.  "What are you up to there?" asked the wife. 
Without waiting to reply, the fiend leapt on the woman, seized her, and thrust her into the cauldron.  Her child, who was near, was treated in the same way. 
The master of the house awoke, and immediately remembered that he had neglected to give the fiend orders what to do that day.  He hastened out to see what he was doing, when, to his horror, he saw him eating his wife and child, quietly dipping each piece of meat in soy before he ate it. 
"What are you doing there?" exclaimed the terror-stricken man.  On hearing the voice, the fiend sprung up, rushed at the man, bound him, and thrust him into the cauldron, and when he was well cooked, devoured him. 
"This should teach you," remarked Mr. SHO-O, "that we cannot afford to be negligent for a single day in setting a watch over our hearts.  For self-will -- that fiend that lurks within us -- may any day become the cause of our destruction, unless it is well guarded against." 
Another lesson, which Mr. SHO-O did not draw, but which might be drawn from the fable is, that -powers and faculties of whatever kind must be well employed in useful work, or the strength and activity they possess will vent themselves in mischief. 

THE POWER OF CONSCIENTIOUS HABITS. 
IN China, in the GEN period [A.D. 1280-1327], there was a man called KYO ROSAI, who, in the summer time, was passing through a part of the country known as Kanan.  It being extremely hot, ROSAI and his followers were very thirsty.  They reached a place where there were some pear trees.  His attendants all commenced to pluck the pears and eat them, but ROSAI sat down beneath the trees, and did not partake of any.  Some one asked him why he did not take any.  He replied: -- "As they are not mine, I do not care to eat them." 
The men rejoined: -- "As this is a time in which everything is in a state of disorder, it is impossible to say to whom these pear trees belong.  So we may say that they have no owner." 
"Though there may be no owner that you can name," replied ROSAI, "there is still an owner in my mind, and therefore I do not think it right to partake of the pears." 

TAKIZAWA BAKIN. 
TAKIZAWA BAKIN was born in Fukagawa, Edo, A.D. 1767.  While he was still very young, both BAKIN's parents died.  He began life by studying medicine, but subsequently gave all his attention to literature.  He read very extensively both Chinese and Japanese works.  When only fifteen years of age, he had read over seven hundred volumes of one kind or another.  He had a prodigious memory, not forgetting anything that he read. One day while reading, he closed his book, and exclaimed: -- "A man is not born into the world to imitate those who have gone before him.  He must produce something original by which his name may be known." 
From this time BAKIN cut himself off from all intercourse with his friends, shut himself up in his room, and gave himself still more closely to study.  Soon after this he began to compose, and, with short intervals, continued writing to the end of his life.  He produced some two hundred and ninety-four volumes.  His object in writing was, he said, a moral one.  He wished to reprove vice and to promote virtue.  The longest of his works, known as "The Hakkenden," took him twenty-eight years to write.  At the end of this time he was blind from age, in fact, it was with the greatest difficulty that he finished the last volume of this, his great work. 
Towards the close of his life, his son being dead, and his daughter-in-law not knowing how to write, he was in great straits.  But by making all kinds of signs he enabled the latter to understand what he wanted written. 
Often it happened that BAKIN began a story which he hardly knew how to finish.  On one occasion an amusing incident took place.  He was puzzling his head over what to do with a character in one of his tales, when at last a thought struck him, and he commenced to soliloquize thus: -- "To-night I will kill the maid-servant, strip off her clothes, thrust her body into the well, and make my escape from the house.  Ah, a fine plot! a fine plot!" 
Whilst soliloquizing thus he was not aware that his servant-girl was near, and listening attentively to what he was saying.  She, thinking that she was the one spoken of, immediately ran off and told her parents what she had heard.  The next morning the parents came to BAKIN and said that their daughter was very sick, and that they wished him to excuse her from serving him any longer.  BAKIN, after a good deal of inquiry, found out what had happened, and he, the parents, and the servant herself had a good laugh over the affair. 
BAKIN died at the age of eighty. 

THE TRUSTED SHOWS HIMSELF WORTHY OF TRUST. 
ONCE it happened that a Chinaman called TO was on his way to Hokkin (Peking), On the road he fell in with a huge man who wore a long beard, and who made out that he was a traveler, but who looked very much like a robber.  He kept close to TO the whole way along.  When TO stopped to rest, the man stopped, and when TO went on, the man went with him.  They conversed together on the road.  After a while the stranger asked TO how much money he had in his purse.  To informed him of the exact amount. 
After they had gone on for some time, the robber, for such the stranger was, said: -- "Your bearers must be tired; if you like I will supply you with a relay of fresh bearers while your men rest." 
"Very good," said TO, "so do." 
The robber called some of his associates, and they bore the palanquin along the road.  At place after place the bearers were changed, but those who were used were all robbers.  They purchased food for TO, which he eat without showing signs of suspicion.  They were near him when he slept, but this did not keep him awake. 
After this had continued for some time, one day, the robber informed TO who he was.  "I am a robber chief," said he, "and have been intending to take your money, but I have no heart to do it.  You have interpreted my feeling and intention by your own.  Though you saw I looked like a robber, you have not treated me as such.  So far did you trust me that you actually told me how much money you had in your purse.  How can I rob such a man? -- No, nothing of yours will I take, nor suffer others to touch.  On the road that you have to traverse there are numbers of my associates lying in wait for passers by.  So you had better let my bearers take charge of you for some time yet." 
This TO did, and reached Hokkin in safety. 
Not every type of robber would have acted thus.  With this man, evidently a life of plunder and rapine had not been allowed to extinguish the good feelings with which he was originally endowed.  In ancient times, in various countries, there seem to have been many such highway robbers. 

THE CAREFULNESS OF MOSHI'S MOTHER. 
WHEN MOSHI was a child, one day it happened that they were killing a pig at the house next door to his mother's. 
"What," asked MOSHI, "are they going to do with the pig they are killing next door?" 
"Going to give it to you to eat of course," replied the mother. 
This was said in fun.  But MOSHI did not take it to be a joke.  He quite expected to have some pork for his dinner.  The mother seeing this, said to herself: -- "It will never do for me to act in this way with my son.  Even before he was born, I was most careful of my conduct lest, unconsciously, I might injure the moral character of my offspring; and now my child is growing up, and able to understand what is said to him, it will never do to deceive him.
"So she determined to purchase some pork from the neighbors, and thus fulfill the expectation the child had cherished. 
Things that are not strictly true are often said to children in fun.  When understood as jokes, they do no harm; but what his mother told him was not so understood by MOSHI, and hence her anxiety to do what the boy expected to be done. 

OKUNUKI GOHEIJI SAVES A NUMBER OF PEASANTS FROM STARVING. 
OKUNUKI GOHEIJI was born in the Country of Iruma, Musashi.  He used to call himself YOZAN.  From generation to generation his ancestors had been farmers; they were among the wealthy landowners of the village.  He was fond of books even from his earliest days; so, while still young, he became a pupil of NARUSHIMA KINKO, who lived in Edo.  When he had completed his studies, he returned to his native village and set up a small school, which was attended by a large number of pupils.
In A.D. 1742, floods prevailed in various parts of the country, but those in the Country of Iruma were specially severe.  The peasants' houses, covering an area of some 20 or 30 miles, were swept away by the flood.  On this occasion, GOHEIJI embarked in a boat, which he had filled with provisions, and, assisted by two others, rowed the boat to the place where the houses had stood, and rescued from drowning the people who were standing or swimming in the water, taking boat-load after boat-load to his own house, where they were fed and cared for.  Those whom he treated in this way amounted to several hundreds. 
On this occasion GOHEIJI remarked to his father: -- "You have always taught me to be economical; was it not that I might have wherewithal to meet the exigencies of such a time as this.  I beg now to be allowed to bestow the money and property which have been accumulating from generation to generation on these poor distressed people."  His father gladly consented to his doing this. 
Whereupon GOHEIJI opened his rice storehouses and gave away a great quantity of corn.  He took a large sum of money, and, after distributing some of it among the distressed peasants, with the rest he bought food for them.  Those who lived near heard of his liberality, and flocked by hundreds to his doors.  GOHEIJI had a quantity of rice boiled very soft, and choosing some of his servants on whom he could depend, gave them directions in the following terms: -- "You are to bear in mind that those who now come starving to my door are not persons who in ordinary times are poor and helpless, therefore you must be careful not to show towards them anything like indifference or disrespect." 
GOHEIJI himself, when waiting on the people, treated them with the greatest consideration and deference, as though they were his invited guests.  After the meal was over, without distinction of age or sex, he would give to each about a peck of rice to carry away. 
After he had been doing this for some little time, all the rice in his storehouse was used up.  Whereupon he sent his servants out in all directions to buy rice, beans, buckwheat, millet and the like, which he distributed among the people. 
II. 
When, by degrees, his money was all spent, after obtaining the permission of his father, GOHEIJI mortgaged his house and land to a rich merchant of Edo, and used the money thus obtained in the purchase of food for the distressed peasants. 
This kind of thing was carried on from October of one year to April of the following year.  It is said that his charity was bestowed on the inhabitants of some forty-eight villages; and that the persons who received assistance from him amounted to more than one hundred thousand. 
What GOHEIJI had done was reported to the local Government.  They commended him for his noble conduct, gave him money and other presents, and caused his good deeds to be made known far and wide.  The Baron of Kawagoe invited him to his palace, gave him a sword and some cloth, and prepared a great feast for him. 
GOHEIJI went to the feast, but he refused to take anything better than rice and soup, of which he only took a little.  One of the chief retainers of the Baron of Kawagoe begged him to partake of some of the dainty dishes that had been prepared for him.  But GOHEIJI refused, saying: -- "This is a time at which none but lords and emperors ought to live on delicacies.  Look where we will, there are peasants with no clothes to wear, and no food to eat, and while this lasts, I have no heart to sit down and partake of dainties." 

GOHEIJI'S GOOD NAME SAVES HIM FROM ROBBERS. 
IN A.D. 1764, there was a great famine in the County of Iruma.  Owing to this, the district in which GOHEIJI resided was infested with robbers.  His neighbors lost their money and their goods times without number.  Yet the Government authorities were unable to detect the offenders or put a stop to the abuse. 
After robbing all the houses around, the thieves were about to enter GOHEIJI's house one night, when one of them called his companions, and said: -- "This is the house of the man who, at the time of the great flood, saved our fathers and mothers, our grandfathers and grandmothers, and our brothers and sisters from starvation.  Have you never heard of all this?" 
Here, the robbers looked at each other for a moment, until one of them broke out: -- "We have received great benefits from this man, -- benefits which we are unable to repay, at such a time of distress as this, even if in prosperous times.  Far be it from us, instead of trying to reward him in some way for the kindness he has shown, to commit an outrage on his house and property." 
Here they politely bowed before the door of the good man's house and returned to their homes.  They not only left his house unmolested, but refrained from entering any of the houses situated in the neighborhood. 

FILIAL AFFECTION. 
I.
IN ancient times, in China, there was a child, called KAN HAKUYU, who, though often beaten by his mother, was not in the habit of crying.  One day, however, when beaten, he wept bitterly. 
His mother was surprised, and asked whether the whipping was more painful than usual that he cried so much. 
"No," said he, "on the contrary, it is because it is less painful that I cry.  I know very well that your strength is failing, mother, by the lightness of the strokes you give me, and this it is that makes me weep." 
II. 
SHIMOTSUKE KINSUKE was the son of ATSUYUKI.  He was very skilled in archery; and his father was extremely proud of his son's accomplishments in this line. 
One day there was an archery meeting held at Ukon, Kyoto, which KINSUKE attended.  From some cause or other, on this occasion KINSUKE missed the target three times. 
ATSUYUKI was very fond of his son, but he was so enraged by the report of his failure, that he rushed barefooted to the scene of the contest and beat him with a stick.  At this time ATSUYUKI was over eighty years of age.  KINSUKE was just in his prime.  KINSUKE however allowed himself to be struck some twenty times without running away. 
The people who were near asked why he quietly stood still and allowed himself to be beaten in this way. 
"As my father is over eighty years of age," he replied, "I feared that if I ran away, he would follow me; and being so old, he might tumble down and injure himself.  I thought it was infinitely better for me to put up with the beating than to run the risk of injuring my aged parent in any way." 

LIFE AND EXISTENCE. 
IN Takatori, Yamato, there was a man called SHUGEN, who lived to a great age.  It was said that he was over one hundred and twenty years of age when he died.  He had a good memory and could, had he been so inclined, have given a great deal of useful information about the past.  People frequented his house in large numbers, but it was more with the object of getting to know the secret of his long life than to obtain useful knowledge that they visited him. 
MOGAMI YOSHIMITSU, a well known Baron of that time, hearing of SHUGEN's great age, sent for him and tried to get some information out of him.  He put questions to him in reference to the various changes and revolutions of ancient times, but he could learn nothing satisfactory or interesting from the old man.  When asked about ordinary things, he would reply: -- "It is not for those who wish to live long to think about such things.  It is by withdrawing from the world and its concerns that long life is to be obtained." 
"That may be very well for you," replied YOSHIMITSU to the old man, as he gave expression to these sentiments in his hearing, "but if we were all to do as you advise, what would it end in?  All our affairs would go to wreck and ruin.  To study your art of long life would involve the loss of all my followers.  So you can go home.  I care not for such a long life as the one you speak of." 
A life robbed of active participation in the affairs of the world would be more correctly termed existence than life; so that, even if it were possible to lengthen out one's stay here by resorting to the seclusion proposed by the old man, it would be neither commendable nor desirable. 

IF YOU WANT A THING DONE, DO IT YOURSELF. 
ONCE upon a time, a lark had a nest of young birds in a field of wheat.  The summer had been warm and kindly; and the wheat was nearly ripe. 
One day the farmer and his son came to look at the crop, and to see if it was ready to cut. 
"Well," said the farmer to his son, "I think this field of wheat is ripe; so you had better go and ask our friends to come and help us to cut it.  I am sure they will be very glad to come and lend us a hand." 
The young larks were in a great fright when they heard this.  So, when their mother came back, they told her what the farmer had said. 
"Oh! don't you be afraid." said the mother; "the wheat is not going to be cut yet.  If they wait for their friends to come and help them, they will have to wait a little longer yet." 
The next day the farmer and his son came to the field.  But they saw no friends there; no one had come to help them to cut the wheat. 
"Go and beg of our kin to come and help us," said the farmer to his son.  The young larks were now in great fear again; and again they told their mother what they had heard. 
"Never fear," said the mother.  "The wheat will not be cut just yet.  Keep quiet; wait a little; we need not be in any hurry to go."
Next morning, the farmer and his son came again to the field; but no one was there.  Whereupon the farmer grew angry and said to his son: -- "This will never do; we must not put off the reaping any longer; we must set to work and cut the wheat ourselves.  It will not do to trust to anyone.  You and I must go to work at once." 
"Now," said the old lark to her younger ones, "it is time for us to go.  When a man takes his work into his own hands, it is sure to be done." 

A BRAVE WOMAN. 
IN the first Kan period [B.C. 202 A.D. 24], there was in China a woman called HYO, who was one of the Emperor GEN's concubines.  One day HYO, in company with a great many other women belonging to the Royal house, went with the Emperor to see some wild beasts fight. 
During the fight, a bear became very unruly and leaped over the rails close to where the Emperor was sitting.  All the women who were near him ran away.  HYO, seeing what was happening, rushed forward to meet the bear.  But before it had time to reach her, it was attacked from behind and killed.  The Emperor asked HYO why she did not run away with the others. 
"I have heard," she replied, "that if a wild beast seizes one person it is usually content.  And so I thought that by sacrificing my life I might save you and all others present." 
"It is said in the Rongo," remarks the narrator of this story, "that, 'to see what is right and not to do it shows the absence of courage.'  This woman thought that it was right to lay down her life to save others, and this she had the courage to attempt to do." 

FILIAL AFFECTION IN MONKEYS. 
NEAR the village of Irinoya, in the district of Ina, Shinano, a hunter one day saw a very large monkey.  He shot it and carried it home to his house.  Intending to skin it the next day, and fearing that if he left it out of doors it would freeze, he hung it up near the fire in his hut.  The hut had no doors or windows.
  In the middle of the night he heard a noise.  Wondering what it could be, he opened his eyes and looked around the hut.  What did he see but two or three young monkeys warming their hands by the fire, and placing their warm hands on the corpse of the old monkey which was hanging near.  They paid special attention to the wounded part, putting their warm hands more frequently on this part than on any other. 

MUTUAL DEPENDENCE. 
WE are not alone in the world.  The wishes of one person must coincide to some extent with the wishes of another.  In connection with this, an interesting tale is told, which runs as follows: -- "In days gone by, there were three men who used to drink wine and converse together in the same house very frequently.  One was blind, one was deaf, and the other was lame.  Nevertheless, they were very merry together, each contributing something to the amusement of his companions.  The blind man sang; the cripple kept time with his hands; and the deaf man danced.  One day when these three men were enjoying each other's company, a fire broke out.  There was, of course, great confusion, and people rushed hither and thither, crying, "fire!  fire!"  The blind man heard the noise first.  He was about to run away, but he did not know which way to go.  The lame man saw where the fire was, but he could not move unassisted.  The deaf man had his back turned to the place where the fire was, and, hearing nothing, was quite ignorant of all that was taking place. 
They were all three in great danger of losing their lives when, as luck would have it, some one ran to the place where they were and helped them to get out of the house.  The man who came to rescue them managed the business very skillfully.  He put the lame man on the blind man's back, and set the deaf man to lead the blind man.  The lame man saw and heard all that was going on, and pointed out to the deaf man the direction he was to take.  Thus they all progressed, and soon succeeded in getting away from the neighborhood, of the fire. 
The moral which the narrator draws from the story is as follows: -- 
"Those whose natures do not agree with each other are very much like these three men.  We are each deficient in something; but not each in the same thing.  We must borrow from others the powers with which we ourselves are not endowed, or which we once possessed and have lost.  We must not think that because people are different from us they are useless members of society." 

EVIL MUST BE ATTACKED AT ITS ROOT 
IN the Shunju period, there were in the Shin province, China, a very large number of robbers.  At that time there lived in Shin a man called GEKI YO, who was very skilful in catching thieves. 
One day, when in conversation with CHO BUNSHI, the Lord of Shin remarked that with such a man as YO he could arrest all the robbers in the country, and that it was unnecessary to do anything more for their suppression than to employ YO in apprehending them. 
"If you think you can get rid of robbers in any such way, you are greatly mistaken," replied BUNSHI.  "Even supposing that YO could catch all the robbers there are to be caught, there is a limit to his life, and what will you do after he is dead?" 
Not long after this, the robbers held a consultation, at which they agreed that, as it was through YO that so many of them had been captured, they had better kill him as soon as possible.  This they succeeded in doing. 
When the Lord of Shin heard what had happened, he sent for BUNSHI, to whom he said: -- "It is just as you were remarking the other day, there is a limit to the life of YO, for the robbers have killed him.  Now, therefore, I wish to know what remedy you would propose for ridding the country of the robbers with whom it is infested." 
"As you did not care to take my advice while YO was still alive," replied BUNSHI, "I do not care to give it to you now that he is dead." 
Whereupon, the Lord of Shin was very much affected, and with tears begged BUNSHI to give him some advice on the matter.  "You have hitherto," remarked BUNSHI, "been thinking too much about, catching robbers, and not about getting rid of them altogether.  You have been forgetting the root, and have only paid attention to that which springs from it.  You should so arrange matters that thieves could not possibly exist in the country." 
"How is this to be done?" asked the Lord of Shin.  
"By placing none but men of virtue and talent in offices of trust," replied BUNSHI.  "If the dealings of those who rule are all honest and straightforward, it will not be otherwise with those who are ruled.  Virtue in the ruler will beget virtue in the subject." 

THE SELF-SUFFICIENCY OF A SHELL-FISH. 
THERE is a certain powerful shell-fish called the Sazae.  Now this creature, if it hears that there is any danger astir, shuts up its shell from within with a loud noise, and thinks itself perfectly safe. 
One day a Tai and another fish, lost in envy at this, said: -- "What a strong castle that is of yours, Mr. SAZAE!  When you shut up your lid from within, nobody can so much as point a finger at you.  A capital figure you make, Sir." 
When he heard this, the Sazae, stroking his beard, replied: -- "Well gentlemen, although you are so good as to say so, it's nothing to boast of in the way of safety.  Yet I must admit that, when I shut myself up thus, I do not feel much anxiety." 
As he was speaking thus, with the pride that apes humility, there came the noise of a great splash.  The shell-fish, shutting up his lid as quickly as possible, kept quite still, and thought to himself what in the world the noise could be.  Could it be a net?  Could it be a fish-hook?  What a bore it was always having to keep such a sharp look-out!  Were the Tai and the other fish caught, he wondered.  He felt quite anxious about them; however, at any rate, he was safe.  And so the time passed.  When he thought all was safe, he stealthily opened his shell, and slipping out his head, looked all round him.  There seemed to be something wrong--something with which he was not familiar.  As he looked a little more carefully, lo and behold! there he was in a fishmonger's shop, with a card marked, "sixteen cash," on his back. 
Those who see no danger in their position and surroundings, are usually the first to fall a prey to their enemies.                                                                   A. B. MITFORD. 

COAL. 
COAL is the name of a kind of black stone which we burn and make our fires with.  This stone was once wood.  The wood lay a long long time deep in the earth, and slowly became stone. 
Coal, then, is made from trees, which once upon a time grew tall and strong in the hot beams of the sun.  They lived, and died, and fell, and sank in the moist earth; and we now call this black thing that was at one time wood by the name of coal. 
Men go down into deep pits to dig it up.  These pits are called coal-mines; and in some parts of England and Wales they stretch under the bed of the sea.  The men who work in them are called miners.  Their work is very hard, and now and then they lose their lives in the mine.  There is much gas among the coal; and this sometimes takes fire, and the men are burnt to death. 
In coal-pits there are little railroads; and along these lines small horses draw the cars that are filled with coal.  Some of these horses live all their lives in the pit, and die there.  Some of them have never seen the light of the sun, but do their work in the dark. 
The men employed in the pits have small lamps in front of their caps, which give them light to work by.  In some parts of the mine, the passages are so small that the men have to lie on their backs to cut out the lumps of coal with their picks. 
Coal is of great use.  It makes bright fires; and these fires make our rooms warm.  It cooks our food; it boils the water to make our tea.  From coal we make the gas which lights up our houses, our shops, and our streets at night. 

A TEST OF CONDUCT. 
IN the KAN period, there lived in China a man called GEN KAKU, whose father, GO, was a very bad man.  Among the many wicked actions of GO, that which we are about to relate was perhaps the most heinous. 
When GO's father grew old and sick, GO became tired of attending to the old man's wants.  So one day GO told KAKU to put his grandfather (GO's father) into a sling, throw him across his shoulders, carry him out to a desolate spot in the mountains, and leave him there. 
KAKU refused to obey this command for a long time, but his father gave him no peace while he refused.  So at last he consented, and putting the old man into a sling, he carried him off to the hills and left him there. 
KAKU was careful to bring back the sling.  He went into his father's presence, bearing the sling in his hand, and said: -- "I have taken your father to the mountains, and here is the sling." 
"Why," asked GO, "did you bring this thing in here?  The very sight of it makes me feel bad." 
"Why," replied KAKU, "of course I have brought it back to lay it by till you are old, and then it will serve for carrying you out to the mountains." 
Here GO saw in an instant the heinousness of what he had done, and went in person to fetch his father back. 
Not only when great crimes, such as the one contemplated by GO, are under consideration, but when even minor faults are about to be committed, the true test of conduct often consists in imagining ourselves in other's places, and asking ourselves whether we should like to have done to us what we propose to do to others. 

LIBERTY AND STARVATION PREFERRED. 
A LEAN, hungry, and half-starved wolf left his lair one clear moonlight night, to look for something that might serve for his supper.  On his way he met a fat, good-looking, and well-fed watch-dog. 
"Good-evening," said the wolf. 
"Good-evening," replied the watch-dog. 
"This is a fine night," said the wolf, "I just came out to look for a bit of supper." 
"And have you found it?" asked the dog.  
"No, indeed," replied the wolf; "food seems to grow scarcer and scarcer.  I remember the time when I could snap up a hare, or sup very well on two or three rabbits; but now why, there's nothing; there's hardly a mouse stirring.  "To all this the dog answered not a word. 
"But how is it, my friend," asked the wolf, "that you look so stout and well?  I take fifty times the trouble that you do to get a dinner; and yet I'm nearly dead with hunger.  You could count every rib through my skin." 
"Well," replied the dog, "you can live as well as I do, if you will do the work that I do." 
"Indeed, what should I have to do?" asked the wolf. 
"Why," said the dog, "all you would have to do would be to guard the house at night and keep all thieves away." 
"Is that all?" asked the wolf.  "I should be very glad to do that.  At present, I have only a cold windy den in the woods, in which I can never keep myself either warm or dry; I have rain, snow, and hail pouring down on my head; and the frost at night half kills me.  I should be only too glad to get a bed of dry straw, a warm roof over my head, and good food.  It would be a very good bargain for me." 
"Very well, then," replied the dog, "come along to the house." 
As they jogged along together in friendly chat, the wolf happened to spy a mark on the fur of the dog's neck, and he asked him what it meant.  "Oh nothing!" replied the dog. 
"But just tell me, now, I specially want to know" continued the wolf. 
"Well, then, if you must know," answered the dog, "I am chained up in the day time, for fear I should bite people; and I am set free only at night.  I sleep in my kennel most of the day; and at night I am free to go where I please." 
"Oh!" said the wolf. 
"Then, my master," the dog went on to say, "brings me big plates of juicy bones to eat; and any scraps that the family leaves are sent out to me.  So you can easily see how I grow fat." 
The wolf here hung his head.  "What is the matter with you?" asked the dog.  "Just come along; and you will be sure to like your new home. 
"No, thank you," replied the wolf.  "I like my freedom.  Bones may be very nice; but I don't like chains; I like my own way in the free forest.  Good-night, Mr. Dog.  Grow as fat as you please.  As for me, I prefer liberty and starvation. 
"So saying, he bolted down the first opening into the thickest and darkest part of the wood. 

A DISCONTENTED BOY LEARNS A LESSON FROM A CARPENTER.
WE should all try to fulfill the duties of the position in which we find ourselves.  Those who wish to command must first learn to obey; and in learning how to obey, it often happens that many hardships have to be endured.  Adopted children, as well as other children, often have a great deal to put up with from their parents; but it is not right for them to forsake their parents on this account. 
Once upon a time, a boy who had been adopted into a certain family, found his adopted parents very troublesome, and thought that he could not remain in the house with them any longer.  The mistake he made was to think that the old should accommodate themselves to the young. 
One day, as this lad was sitting listlessly looking at a carpenter who was working in the house, suddenly his attention was drawn to what the carpenter was doing.  He was fitting some sliding doors that had been formerly used in another house into the threshold.  The lad noticed that before the carpenter could get them to fit the frame-work of the house, he had to plane them in different parts.  He observed that the man did not alter the frame-work of the house to make it fit the doors, but that he altered the doors to make them fit the house.  Hereupon, a thought struck the lad, and he said to himself: -- "Hitherto I have been making a mistake.  I am like these doors.  I did not originally belong to this house; I came from elsewhere; and the mistake I have been laboring under is to suppose that the people who form a part of this house ought to be altered so as to be made to suit me, instead of my being altered so as to suit them.  I will not do as I thought to do -- run away, but will endeavor to get fitted in to the ways of the house, as these doors have been." 

A MAN WHOSE EFFORTS WERE ALWAYS ILL-TIMED. 
  IN the Shunju period [B.C. 750-426,] there lived in Tei, China, a very poor man, who, when he had reached his majority, had not decided on an occupation.  One day he thought it was high time he did something to get a living.  So he went to an umbrella maker, and learnt from him how to make umbrellas.  It took him three years to learn the trade, after which he set up a little business on his own account.  But just at this time, owing to a long drought, there was no demand whatever for umbrellas. 
So he said to himself: -- "Here have I been spending three years in learning a trade that is of no use whatever."  He gave up the business and learnt how to make appliances for drawing water, thinking there would be a great demand for buckets and the like at such a time of drought. 
But no sooner had he learnt how to make buckets than it commenced to rain, and there was no demand for them.  So he took to umbrella-making again. 
But just at that time, the whole country was convulsed by a revolution, and people had no leisure to think about umbrellas. 
Seeing how things were, he thought he would take to making swords.  But he knew of no one who would teach him, and, moreover, had no money to spend on the business.  Whilst he was considering what had best be done, he died. 

IEYASU'S MODERATION. 
ONCE upon a time, EISHOIN, the wife of IEYASU came to her husband, and said: -- "My Lord is in the habit of wearing white clothes, and I am in difficulty about getting them washed.  To give the clothes of a great man to low women to wash, is something that I cannot make up my mind to do; and if I were to ask the higher class women to wash them, their delicate hands would be chafed with the work.  When I even speak of it to them, they put on a wry face.  Why not give up wearing clothes that have been washed, and use nothing but new things?" 
IEYASU replied: -- "You evidently do not know what women are for; and, being so ignorant, it is a question whether you will benefit much by anything that I am going to say.  However, I will explain this matter to you.  If you do nothing but think of the storehouses that belong to me, situated not only in Edo and Osaka but in every province and town throughout the country, you will, of course, be astonished at their number; and will think that as I have in my possession mountains of linen, I should not run short even though I used 200 pieces daily.  This might be all very well if I only thought of myself.  But when I think of the multitudes who are around me, and the generations of men who are to succeed me, I feel bound for their sakes to be sparing in my use of the goods in my possession, and therefore it is that I use washed clothes.  What I do is in accordance with what nature teaches; for in all things she is economical." 

BENEVOLENCE IN TIME OF WAR. 
As a rule it is not to the battle-field that we look when we wish to see a display of kindly feeling.  It is difficult to reconcile war and benevolence.  In ancient times wars were carried on in a more barbarous fashion than they are now; and while they lasted, in many instances, philanthropic feeling was entirely suppressed, and men fought more like fiends than men.  This being so, it is pleasing to find recorded in history some few exceptions to this rule.  The names of benevolent warriors stand out like beacon lights in the midst of the general darkness of the days in which they lived. 
SO HIN, a Chinese General, who flourished in the SO period was one of these lights.  When fighting against Shoku he took a great many women captive.  To prevent his troops from committing outrages on them, HIN ordered that these women should be placed in a large cave, where they were fed through a hole.  The entrance to the cave was carefully guarded, HIN giving strict orders that no one was to be allowed to approach it. 
When the war was over, HIN treated these women most kindly, enquiring where their friends lived, and then sending them all back to their homes. 
When HIN was at war with the southern TO, after he had been fighting for some time, and the great castle of the province was about to be taken, he was reported to be sick and unable to take the command of the troops as usual.  The other Generals were very much disconcerted at this, and came to enquire after their leader. 
"The sickness from which I am suffering is not one that can be cured with medicine," said HIN.  "But there is a way of curing it.  If you who are now about to take this castle, will make a solemn vow, that in taking it you will not kill one man unnecessarily, my sickness will leave me." 
This they agreed to do.  Taking incense they all solemnly vowed to Heaven, that no man whom it was possible to spare should be killed during the assault. 
Whereupon, HIN, rising from his couch, resumed his duties as Commander-in-Chief of the troops.
It was said of HIN, that during the whole of his career as a General, he never put to death a single person unnecessarily.  SO HIN died A.D. 999. 

SHIN-EMON SAVES A GIRL FROM DROWNING HERSELF. 
I. 
SHIN-EMON was a rice merchant of Utsunomiya.  He was a man of great foresight in business, and hence made a great deal of money. 
At one time, when in Edo, he was crossing the Eitai Bridge late at night.  It was so dark that he could not discern anything clearly; but it seemed to him that he saw on the bank of the river, the form of a man or a woman who appeared to be about to jump into the water.  He rushed forward and seized the object, which he discovered to be a girl.  The girl struggled to get free, and throw herself into the water; but SHIN-EMON held her fast, and immediately asked her why she wished to jump into the water.  She replied: -- "I have a reason for wishing to die, please let me go." 
"There is a proverb," rejoined SHIN-EMON, "which says, 'There are times when a man had better take counsel with his own knees than act alone.'  Am I not better than knees to you at such a time as this?  Why, therefore, do you not tell me the real cause of your trouble?" 
Whereupon, the girl said: -- "My father died many years ago; and my mother is kept by her relations.  Being poor, I had to go out as servant, and have been working in one house for about five years.  To-day about two o'clock, I received thirty ryo from my master, with orders to take the same to a friend of his.  I dropped the money on the road.  Look where I would, I could not find it.  I have no money wherewith to make good the loss.  And if I go back and say the money is lost, as my master knows I am poor, he will certainly suspect me of having stolen it.  The only way that I can prove that I have not stolen it is by committing suicide.  And this I wish to do.  But there is one regret I have in dying.  It is this: Next year my term of service will be up, and I shall be free to go home to my mother.  She is looking forward longingly to my return, and finds it hard to wait till the time comes.  A day appears like a year to her, so anxious is she to have me home.  And now if I destroy myself, I am afraid to think of what her distress will be." 
Here the girl wept bitterly.  SHIN-EMON, after further conversation with her about all that had happened, said: -- "I think it a cheap bargain to be able to purchase your life for thirty ryo; and therefore I gladly do it.  Here is the money.  Make haste and take it to your master." 
The girl objected to receive it.  But SHIN-EMON would not hear of a refusal.  So she took the money, and begged the donor to give her his name and address.  This SHIN-EMON refused to do, simply replying: -- "I am a farmer from the country."
II. 
IT happened some five or six years after this event that SHIN-EMON went to Edo to attend the festival of Hachiman.  He had in his charge several young persons who accompanied him to Edo to see the festival.  As is usual on these occasions, there was in Fukagawa, where the festival was held, a long procession.  Dancing and numerous other pastimes and amusements were going on.  People came up from all parts of the country, and were joined by the townsfolk who crowded out to see the show.  When the procession reached Eitai Bridge, the crowd was so great that they trod on each other, and people pushed to such an extent that they were carried about in the air without touching the ground.  The whole town seemed as though it had gone mad over the affair. 
In the midst of this confusion, a woman approaching SHIN-EMON, pulled his sleeve.  He took little notice of the incident; but on its happening a second time, he turned and said to the woman: -- "You make a mistake, it is some one else you are looking for." 
The woman, however, persisted in pulling SHIN-EMON's sleeve.  Whereupon the latter grew very angry, and said: -- "What do you mean by such rude conduct, stopping me in the street in this way?" 
The woman could not hear what he was saying, for the noise was deafening.  She simply saw his lips moving, and therefore pulled his sleeve still more; so much so, that in the confusion he lost the young people who had come up from the country with him.  Just at this juncture, they reached a tea-house by the side of the road, to which they turned aside to get out of the noise. 
SHIN-EMON saw that the woman had something to say to him, so he followed her to the tea-house.  The woman approached him, and bowing, asked whether he did not remember having saved her life on a certain day of a certain month some years previously.  SHIN-EMON putting his head on one side, for a moment looked very puzzled, and then exclaimed: -- "Yes, I do remember it.  It was five years ago that it happened.
Here the woman commenced to tell SHIN-EMON all that had occurred in the interval.  "I took," she said, "the money you so kindly gave me to my master that same evening.  My master was much moved, and said: -- 'How can I take money that has been given to you by a traveler?  Did you know who it was that gave it, I would, of course, return it.  But as you do not know, there is nothing I can do but take it and keep it for you.'  When I left his service, producing the thirty ryo, he said: -- 'Take this money, and spend it in maintaining yourself, and never forget the kindness of him who bestowed it on you.  'When I went home and told my mother what had happened, she was affected even to tears, and we sat down and wept together.  From the time that you saved my life, I always thought to myself, 'If I forget the benefit this stranger has conferred on me, I am not human.'  Though the night was dark, yet as your face had been impressed on my memory, I knew you again when I saw you to-day.  It has ever been my prayer that one day I might see the man who saved my life, and have an opportunity of thanking him for what he did.  Though I had not the least idea as to what part of the country you came from, I thought that from whatever quarter you came, it was most likely you would now and again cross the Eitai Bridge, and so my mother and I decided to use the thirty ryo you gave us in purchasing this tea-house close to the bridge.  We have made our living by selling tea to passers-by.  Now, at last, my desire has been gratified, and I see before me the man to whom I owe my life.  What greater joy could I have than this?" 
While she was thus talking, and shedding tears of gratitude, the Eitai Bridge gave way with the weight of the people who were crossing it.  The loss of life was terrible.  It is said that the river was so full of dead bodies that one could almost walk on them as they floated down the stream.  The three young persons who came up from the country with SHIN-EMON were all drowned.  But SHIN-EMON, owing to his not being on the bridge at the time, escaped. 
This accident occurred on August 15th, A.D. 1821. 

EVIL REQUITED BY GOOD. 
IN the Shunju period, there was in China a Governor called SO SHU, who lived on the boundaries of the two provinces SO and Ryo. 
On the land which constituted the bounds of the two provinces and the adjacent lots, some melons were planted.  The melons on the Ryo side of the border grew well, as they were watered every night by the residents.  But those on the So side, being only watered occasionally, did not flourish.  The So people did not like to see this.  Previously, they had been very jealous of the superior intelligence which the Ryo people had manifested on various occasions.  The occurrence just referred to increased their ill-feeling; and some of them went out one night and pulled up all the melons that belonged the Ryo people. 
When the inhabitants of Ryo saw what was done, they determined to pay the So people out in their own coin.  They thought, however, that it would be best to consult SHU, the Governor, about it before taking any steps. 
When consulted, SHU immediately said: -- "What you propose is not the right thing to do.  If you act in this way you will simply be creating a state of enmity between us and the So people.  If it is wrong for them to do what they have done, it is wrong for us to follow their example.  What greater mistake could we make than to act as you propose?  I will tell you what you had better do.  Go every night and water their melons for them.  This will make them ashamed of themselves." 
This they did.  When, morning after morning, the So people came out to look at their melons, they found that they were well watered and thriving famously.  They soon found out who had brought about this change, and they were ashamed of the way in which they had treated the Ryo people. 
The Governor of the boundary informed the King of what had happened, and the King pronounced this to be a case of Injo, or secret concession to others, a virtue that is no less rare than praiseworthy.  He applauded the deed, and gave orders that various presents should be sent to the people of Ryo. 

THE COURAGE AND PRESENCE OF MIND OF A LITTLE GIRL. 
IN the autumn of A.D. 1840, there lived in Matsuya-machi, Osaka, a little girl of about eight years of age.  Her elder brother was about fifteen years old and was called NISABURO, and she had two younger brothers, one five and the other three years of age.  Her father had died the year before the event which we are about to relate.  Her mother made a living by selling paper. 
One night, after all the family had retired to rest, three robbers, armed with swords, kicked down the doors and broke into the house in which this little girl and her relations lived.  The mother rushed out of one of the doors with a child on her back, and made good her escape.  NISABURO, too, was trying his best to get away, but the robber caught him, and asked him where the money was. 
"I am only a servant," said NISABURO, "and therefore do not know where the money is." 
"Don't tell lies," said the robbers; "if you do not speak the truth, this is how we will treat you."  Here they gave him several blows with the backs of their swords. 
The little girl of eight, seeing this, came out, and fetching the money which had been given her as a New Year's present, said: -- "Here, if you want money, take this.  Please not to hurt my brother."  She then placed her two little brothers behind her, and continued: -- "If this money does not satisfy you, and you cannot allow my elder brother to escape otherwise, then kill me in his stead." 
The robbers looked at the innocent face of the little girl, and then asked: -- "Is this your own money?" 
"Yes," she said; "it is." 
"Then we do not want it," they replied; and forthwith left the house. 

SELF IGNORANCE. 
A LONG time ago, there lived in a country place, situated in central Japan, the name of which is not recorded, some people who had never seen a mirror.  One day, when one of them, a man, happened to be visiting Kyoto, he went into a shop where mirrors were offered for sale.  He saw something that glistened very much, and wondered what it could be.  When he drew near the object, he saw his own face reflected in it, but, never having seen his own face before, of course he did not recognize it as his own.  He was like his father.  He thought, therefore, that it was his father whom he saw; so, bowing to him, he said: -- "How are you, Papa?  I have not seen you for a long time."  He thought he should like to touch his father, so he stretched out his hand and placed it on the mirror; whereupon, the shopman came out and asked: -- "What are you doing there, touching that mirror?" 
"I am not doing anything," replied the man, "only touching my father here."  Thereupon he grasped the mirror. 
"If you want that mirror you must pay for it," rejoined the shopman, who, seeing the man was a rustic who was not accustomed to shops, thought it, best to be very plain with him. 
"If my father is for sale," replied the man, "Then I will buy him."  So he paid the price asked, and took the mirror to the hotel where he was stopping. 
On reaching the hotel, he spoke again to the image he saw reflected in it; but it did not reply.  Then he thought to himself: -- "Of course my father cannot reply.  The world in which he lives is different from this, and therefore, even if he were to speak, I could not hear him.  But after not seeing him for three years, it does me good to gaze on his face once more, even though I may not hear his voice." 
The man took the mirror to his home in the country, on reaching which, he immediately went up stairs and hid it in a long box in which clothes were kept, going up from time to time to gaze on his revered father's face. 
One day his wife went upstairs to fetch some article of clothing, and happening to open the box where the mirror was, she saw something glistening, but did not know what it was.  When she took it up to see -- Lo and behold! there was a woman some twenty-five or six years old, who had evidently been hiding in the box.  She was very frightened, but still more angry.  Rushing down stairs, screaming and crying in a terrible way as she went, she seized her husband by the throat and accused him of secreting a woman in a box up stairs.  Whereupon, there was a great quarrel between the man and his wife.  The man said it was a man who was upstairs, and no other than his father; but his wife said she was certain she saw a woman.
In the next house there lived a nun, who, hearing what was going on, came in, and tried to stop the quarrel, but to no purpose.  It still continued.  "Very well," said the nun; "I will go up and see for myself whether it is a man or a woman who is in the box." 
She went up, and on opening the box, grew very frightened, and, rushing down the stairs, she said: --  "It is a woman who is up there, and she has been so alarmed and troubled at being the cause of such a quarrel as she has heard going on down stairs, that she has shaved her head and become a man." 
"Most of the quarrels," remarks the narrator of this story, "that take place between husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, relations and friends, parents and children, masters and servants, and the mutual animosities of neighbors, are owing to something like this occurring, as is well stated in a verse of poetry: -- 'The good or evil reflected in shadow in the mirror, when examined closely, is seen to be no other than our own form portrayed.'  Just as this quarrel came from the man's not knowing his own face when he saw it, and the woman's not knowing hers when she saw it, so does it happen that all quarrels come from people's not examining their own hearts, and hence thinking that others, and not themselves, are to blame when things go wrong." 

AN EI AND THE ANGRY LORD OF SEI. 
DURING the Shunju period, AN EI became the chief retainer of the Lord of SEI.  Once it happened that a groom of the lord's killed one of his Lordship's horses.  The lord was very angry, and, taking a spear, he beat the groom with it.  EI, who was standing by, exclaimed: -- "Don't kill the man without telling him of his fault, let me go and explain to him what he has done." 
"Very well," said the lord, "so do." 
EI, therefore, took the spear, and flourishing it over the head of the groom, said: -- "You have been entrusted with your mater's horse, and have killed it -- for this you must die.  You have by killing a horse been the means of making a lord kill his groom -- for this you must die.  You have been the means of making your lord commit a murder that will be reported to the lords of surrounding provinces to his dishonor -- for this you must die." 
Here the Lord of SEI interposed: -- "Hold, hold, let the man off.  Do not injure my reputation for benevolence in the neighboring provinces." 
When thus explained by AN EI, the Lord of SEI saw how ridiculous vas his conduct. 

A FOOLISH WIFE AND A STILL MORE FOOLISH HUSBAND. 
A LONG time ago, there lived in a place called Hamada a foolish man who had a foolish wife.  Both the man and his wife were very fond of eating and drinking, and there existed between them none of that good feeling and politeness which ought to exist between husbands and wives, if anywhere. 
One day their next door neighbor sent in three small loaves of mochi.  After eating one loaf each, they both wanted to eat the remaining one.  They squabbled over it for some time, till, at last, the man said to his wife: -- "Well, I tell you what we will do to settle whoso the loaf shall be.  We will both remain quite silent, and agree that the one who speaks first shall lose the mochi." 
The wife consented to the proposal, and they both remained silent for the space of three days; at the expiration of which, a thief entered the house at night.  Both the man and his wife saw the robber.  The man was determined he would not lose the mochi, so he kept quiet while the thief was carrying off all the most valuable things in the house.  The woman, however, when she saw one thing after another being removed, could no longer contain herself, and reproving her husband for his stupidity ill losing everything in the house for the sake of a small loaf of mochi, she ran off after the thief. 
"There," exclaimed the husband, "I knew you would speak first."  So saying, the stupid man commenced to devour the mochi."
Foolish as these people were, there are not wanting persons who are habitually treading in their footsteps -- man and women who barter the greater for the less, who, for the sake of temporary gratification, entail upon themselves years of trouble and vexation. 

LARGE-MINDEDNESS. 
RYO MOSEI, who flourished in the SO period [A.D. 960-1279], was a man who never wished to remember the ways in which people had offended him. 
When young he was attending a Cabinet Council Someone, from behind the screen, asked in a loud voice: -- "Is this youth a member of the Cabinet?" 
MOSEI pretended not to hear, and passed on.  But one of his friends who was present was very angry, and determined to find out who it was that had so insulted MOSEI.  
MOSEI begged him to desist, saying: -- "If once we hear his name, then we shall not forget the incident during the whole of our lives.  It is far better not to know who it was.  What do I lose by not knowing who he is?  Nothing whatever." 
People all admired his large-mindedness. 

TACT. 
A NOTED scholar, ITO JINSAI was one night, crossing an unfrequented moor, when some five or six robbers came out against him with drawn swords, and accosted him as follows: -- "We are men who are fond of sake, but, lately, having been short of money, we have not tasted much.  Give us money to buy sake.  If you have no money, then strip off your clothes and deliver them up." 
JINSAI, without changing his looks in any way, replied: -- "I do not happen to have any money to day, so that there is nothing for it but to give you this ragged old coat of mine.  But wait a moment; I want to ask you a question first.  What is your occupation?" 
"Our occupation," they replied, "is to go out on dark nights and steal people's things; and with the money we get in this way we procure sake." 
"Then this is your employment, is it; said JINSAI.  "I suppose, then, there is no help for it; you must have my coat." 
Here he took off his coat, and gave it to them. 
One of the thieves remarked: "I have been a robber for a number of years, but I have never met anyone like you yet.  May I ask who you are?" 
"I am a Jusha" (a follower of Confucius), said JINSAI. 
"What sort of a man is a Jusha?" asked the robber. 
"A Jusha is a person who teaches people the way in which they should walk," replied JINSAI.  "This way includes the duties of children to their parents; younger brothers to elder brothers, and the like.  It is a way that we cannot do without, even for a single day.  If it happens that among human beings there are persons who do not know anything about this way, such persons are no better than animals." 
"Ah!" said the robber, "you and I are both men, but how different are our occupations.  While you teach people the way in which they should go, I am a robber."  He paused, and then, in the greatest distress, continued: -- "I have been a bad man.  Please forgive me for what I have done to-night.  Henceforth I will mingle ashes with my drink, cleanse my heart from all impurity, and will then come and be your disciple," 

GREEDINESS. 
IN a certain town of Japan, a long time ago, there was a wedding feast.  On such occasions, in those days, an individual called the Otoshiyori (honorable old man) was a most important personage, he being well acquainted with the marriage ceremonies to be performed and the orthodox mode of conducting the festivities that followed.  Though something young man occupied the post, this personage was called the Otoshiyori out of compliment.  At the wedding feast, the Otoshiyori occupied the chief seat; next to him came the principal officers of the village or district; then the head of the house in which the feast was held, and after him the relations and friends of the bride and bridegroom.
The Otoshiyori who presided at the wedding of which we are speaking, was a man who very much disliked wine.  At this feast he could not be persuaded to touch a drop.  The owner of the house in which the wedding feast was held, seeing that he did not know what to do with himself while the others were drinking, offered him some comfits, which were handed to him in a Chinese cup, beautifully ornamented and very valuable.  The guests were all pleased to see that the Otosiyori had something offered to him that he could take; and they joined with the host in pressing him to help himself to the comfits.  After some hesitation, he consented.  Instead of putting a few fingers into the cup, however, he thrust in his whole hand, and it became jammed so that he could not get it out again.  He tried all kinds of ways of extricating it, but to no purpose. 
The guests had been engaged in drinking wine, and did not at first notice what was going on; but presently, one of them happening to observe that the Otoshiyori was looking somewhat perplexed, asked him what was the matter.  With a red face, he replied, "I cannot get my hand out of the cup." 
"Let me hold the cup and do you pull," said the guest.  This was done; but still the man could not get his hand free. 
The assembled guests all became alarmed, and sent off in post haste for the doctor.  The feast was broken up; and all those who had been present at it did their best to find some means of helping the Otoshiyori out of his trouble.  A man in the neighborhood, on hearing what had happened, hastened to the spot, and addressing those who stood around, said: -- "It is reported that one day, when SHIBA ONKO was very young, he was playing with some children.  One bf his playmates fell into a large earthenware pail of water that was standing near, and was in danger of being drowned.  With the exception of ONKO, the children all ran away.  ONKO promptly snatching up a stone, with it broke the pail, and saved the child's life.  This man is now in a similar situation to that of the child who fell into the pail, and I, like SHIBA ONKO, have come to save him by breaking the cup." 
Here the man asked the Otoshiyori to stretch out his hand towards him; on his doing which, the man broke the cup, and set the hand free.  The guests crowded around to see the injured hand.  They discovered that it was full of comfits. 
This, then, was what prevented its speedy extrication from the cup.  The Otoshiyori was greedily attempting to take all the comfits in the cup, and, at first, would not let them go.  After a little, his hand swelled with the pressure, and he found it alike impossible to let go the comfits or get his hand out with the comfits in it. 
Many of the difficulties which people encounter arise from an attempt to grasp more than is proper. 

THE OWL AND THE PIGEON. 
AN owl on his rounds once met a pigeon.  "Whither bound?" inquired the pigeon. 
"I am going eastward," replied the owl. 
"Why eastward?" asked the pigeon. 
"Because people complain of the noise I make here, and there is no living in a country where one is so unpopular;" answered the owl. 
"But are there no people living to the eastward?" asked the pigeon.  "Will you not be just as unpopular there?  Rather than do this, had you not better change your voice?  As long as you utter the notes you do, people will continue to dislike you.  Go where you will, it will be all the same." 
In both China and Japan it used to be considered very unlucky to hear an owl screech. 
Moral. -- There are people who, instead of discontinuing the actions which are the cause of their unpopularity, think that they have only to exchange, their place of residence for another and they will at once become popular, forgetting that things which are disagreeable in one place are usually disagreeable in another, and that things which are bad in one place are as a rule bad in another. 

IMPARTIALITY. 
IN the Shunju period, a man of high rank in Shin, a province of China, KI KEI by name, when old, was desirous of resigning his position.  The lord in whose service he was, asked him whom he would recommend as his successor. 
KEI replied: -- "You cannot do better than appoint KOKU KO." 
"Is he not," asked the lord, "a man whom you very much dislike.  Why then, do you wish him to be appointed?" 
"What did my Lord ask?" inquired KEI, "Was it not as to who ought to be my successor, and not as to whom I dislike."  The lord was impressed by this remark, and decided to appoint KO. 
Some little time after, the same lord asked KEI who should be made Koku-i. 
"Go," replied KEI. 
"Is he not one of your sons?" asked the lord.  "Did you not ask" rejoined KEI, "whom it would be proper to appoint, and not whether the man named is my son or not?" 
The wise men of those days spoke highly of the conduct of KI KEI, because on all occasions he put those persons in office whom he thought worthy of it, even though they were his enemies.  On the other hand, he often risked being reproached for favoring his relations, as when he saw anyone worthy of office among them, he invariably gave him a post. 

TUTELARY GODS AND THEIR FATE. 
WHEN the Emperor KAMEYAMA [A.D. 1260-1274] proposed to build a palace, it was found that in the ground on which the building was to be erected there was a grave, over and around which, there were a number of serpents.  These serpents were said to be the tutelary gods of the place, and the Emperor was informed that any one who attempted to remove them would most certainly be punished.
Concerned about this, the Emperor asked a number of the officers of his court what had best be done. They were at a loss to know how to reply.  In the midst of their perplexity, FUJIWARA SANEMOTO came forward, and thus addressed the Emperor: -- "There is no place under heaven that does not belong to you.  As you are the lord of all the inhabitants of this country, serpents cannot be excluded from the number of those whose duty it is to obey you.  If these serpents are, as the people represent, real gods, then of course they will know that you are the lord of this land, and will make way for you by withdrawing from the place on which you wish to build.  If they don't know that you are the lord of this land, then they are no real gods, and in that case, it little matters what we do with them." 
The Emperor was impressed by this logic, and gave orders that the serpents should be cast into the river, and the building proceeded with. 

PLAN FOR THE FUTURE AS WELL AS FOR THE PRESENT. 
A LONG time ago, it happened that a man called NONAKA KENZAN came to Edo on some business. Before going back to his native place, he sent a letter to a friend who resided there, in which he said that their native province of Tosa was provided with most things, but that there were no clams there.  He purposed therefore bringing back a ship-load of clams with him on his return.  "If I do not get wrecked on the way," said KENZAN, "I shall be able to make you all nice presents when I come back."  His friends thought that when he returned they would get a dish such as they had never tasted before.
When he came back, instead of giving the clams to his friends, as they had expected, he threw them all into the sea. 
On being asked by those concerned why he had not fulfilled his promise, he replied: -- "I have fulfilled it. If I had given you the clams you would have devoured then, and there would have ended the good that I was doing; but now, by throwing them into the sea, I have not only supplied you with all the clams you require, for you can catch them whenever you please, but your posterity as well.  
It is said that, from this time clams began to be one of the staple products of Tosa. 
We must not rest content with benefiting contemporaries, but must plan for posterity in the near and the distant future. 

A JAPANESE SOLOMON. 
I.
  ABOUT a century and a half ago, a woman who was acting as a servant in the house of a certain Baron had a little girl born to her.  Finding it difficult to attend to the child properly whilst in service, she put it out to nurse in a neighboring village, and paid a fixed sum per mensem for its maintenance.
When the child reached the age of ten, the mother having finished her term of service, left the Baron's mansion.  Being now her own mistress, and naturally wishing to have her child with her, she informed the woman who was taking charge of it of her wish.  The woman was reluctant to part with the child.  She was a very intelligent little girl, and the foster-mother thought that she might get some money by hiring her out to work.  So she informed the mother that she did not wish to part with her.  This, of course, soon led to a quarrel.  The disputants went to law about it, and the case came up before O-OKA TADASUKE, who was the Bugyo, or Governor, of Edo at the time. 
The woman to whom the child had been entrusted actually asserted, that it was her own offspring, and that the child's mother had no right to it whatever. 
TADASUKE saw at once that the dispute was one which could be settled in no ordinary way, so he commanded the two women to place the child between them, and one to take hold of its right hand, and the other of its left, and each to pull with all her might.  "The one who conquers," said the Bugyo, "shall be declared to be the mother of the child." 
The real mother disliked immensely this mode of settling the dispute; therefore, though, as she was bidden, she took hold of the child's hand, fearing that the girl would be hurt by violent pulling on both sides, she slackened her hold directly the foster-mother began to pull, and allowed her to get an easy victory. 
"There!" said the foster-mother "The child, you see, is mine." 
Here, TADASUKE, with a loud voice, interposed: -- "You are a deceiver.  The real mother of the child, fearing that it would be hurt by the dragging, intentionally, relaxed her grasp on its hand.  But you, who are in no way attached to the child by nature, thought only of overcoming your adversary, and cared nothing for the feeling of the girl."  Here TADASUKE commanded the foster-mother to be bound.
She, thinking that she would be tortured if she remained silent, immediately confessed that she had been attempting to deceive them, and asked for pardon.  
The people who were present said: -- "This judgment is founded on a principle of human nature."  
The principle referred to is that of parental affection.  The absence of this in the one woman and the presence of it in the other, enabled the Judge to discover who was the real parent. 

SOLOMON'S JUDGMENT. 
II. 
THE judgment we have given above resembles one that is recorded to have been passed by SOLOMON, an ancient King of Israel, the account of which, as found in the English Bible, is as follows:  -- 
"Then there came two women that were harlots, unto the King, and stood before him. 
"And the one woman said, 'O my Lord, I and this woman dwell in one house; and I was delivered of a child with her in the house. 
"And it came to pass the third day after that I was delivered, that this woman was delivered also:. and we were together; there was no stranger with us in the house, save we two in the house. 
"And this woman's child died in the night, because she overlaid it. 
"And she arose at midnight, and took my son from beside me, when thine hand-maid slept, and laid it in her bosom, and her dead child in my bosom. 
"And when I rose in the morning to give my child suck, behold it was dead: but when I had considered it in the morning, behold, it was not my son, which I did bear.' 
"And the other woman said, 'Nay; but the living is my son, and the dead is thy son.'  And this said, 'No, but the dead is thy son and the living is my son.'  Thus they spake before the King.  
"Then said the King, 'The one saith, This is my son that liveth and thy son is the dead:' and the other saith, 'Nay; but thy son is the dead, and my son is the living.' 
"And the King said, 'Bring me a sword.'  And they brought a sword before the King. 
"And the King said, 'Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other.' 
"Then spake the woman whose the living child was unto the king, for her bowels yearned upon her son, and she said, 'O my Lord, give her the living child and in no wise slay it.'  But the other said, 'Let it be neither mine nor thine, but divide it.' 
"Then the King answered and said,, 'Give her the living child, and in no wise slay it: she is the mother thereof.' 
"And all Israel heard of the judgment which the King had judged; and they feared the King: for they saw that the wisdom of God was in him to do judgment." 
The above is written in old English.  It is taken from the English translation of the Hebrew Bible, made A.D. 1611.  This version is still in use in England, and is the only authorized one.  King SOLOMON commenced to reign B.C. 1015, according to the current chronology of the Hebrews. 

HOW SORORI SHINZAEMON REPROVED HIDEYOSHI. 
AFTER HIDEYOSHI had become lord of the whole of Japan, he still retained his love of wandering about alone, little heeding how much he endangered his life by so doing.  His retainers constantly remonstrated with him about this, but he took no notice of them, so they thought they would get SORORI SHINZAEMON to try what he could do in the matter. 
SHINZAEMON went into HIDEYOSHI's presence one day, and began to make a noise as though he were going to be sick. 
"What is the matter with you?" asked HIDEYOSHI. 
"I have eaten something that has disagreed with me," replied SHINZAEMON, "I went up to Kitayama to-day, where I met a hobgoblin.  He was some ten feet high, with great wings, a long nose, and two claws on each foot and hand.  This is doubtless that Tengu of whom people speak.  The hobgoblin seized hold of me, and was about to devour me; but I begged him to allow me to see him fly before he made an end of me.  This he consented to do.  He flew up in the air in a most wonderful way.  After seeing this, I said: -- 'Really you fly magnificently. Now I have seen you fly as a big thing, before you kill me, I beg to be permitted to see you fly as a small thing.  Can you make yourself small, I wonder.'  Here Tengu, in order to please me, changed himself into a small winged insect, and pitched on my hand.  I, seeing this, opened my mouth and devoured him.  This it is that makes me feel sick now.  When I came back I thought to myself: -- 'This Tengu is a being of enormous power and influence, but having consented to become as small as an ant, he has been devoured by an insignificant person like me.'" 
"Very good," said HIDEYOSHI, " I see what you are aiming at.  Who was it that sent you to reprove me for going out so much unattended?" 
HIDEYOSHI had become the great Tengu, and as long as he kept up the state proper to such greatness, he was safe.  But whenever he put off his state and walked about alone like an ordinary man, then there was no saying what insignificant individual might, knowingly or unknowingly, cut him down. 
It is stated that after this, HIDEYOSHI refrained from going out unattended. 

THE EAGER ARE USUALLY BLIND TO DANGER. 
DURING the Shunju period, a King of Go wished to attack a King of Kei.  The former's subjects were of opinion, that the war proposed to be commenced was uncalled for and unwise.  They told the King what they thought, but he refused to pay any attention to them.  In fact, he threatened to kill anyone who spoke against his going to war. 
At this time, there lived in the palace of the King of Go a man called SHO JUSHI, who thought that, as the King was proof against all direct allusions to what he (the King) was purposing, he (JUSHI) would try to bring the matter home to him in some round about way. 
Accordingly, JUSHI appeared one day in the King's presence with wet clothes, which he had put on for the purpose of attracting the King's attention.  When asked why he was in this condition, he replied: -- "I have just come from the fields where I have been shooting sparrows.  In the field in which I was, I saw something which struck me, which, with Your Majesty's permission, I will relate to you.  I saw a locust sucking in the morning dew, and chirping away, after its fashion, without taking any notice of a mantis which was behind it ready to kill it; and the mantis, too, was so intent on his attack on the locust, that he failed to see that behind him was a sparrow ready to gobble him up.  The sparrow, again, was so full of the breakfast he was going to get off the mantis, that he did not observe that a man stood behind a bush with an arrow stretched on the bow ready to shoot him.  These three, being all eager to obtain a prize, were blind to the dangers of their position." 
"True, true!" exclaimed the King, "I will leave the King of Kei alone." 

AN UPRIGHT JUDGE. 
DURING the seventeenth century, there was a noted Governor of Kyoto called ITAKURA SHIGEMUNE.  In those days the Governors of large cities were called upon to pass judgment on difficult legal cases.  SHIGEMUNE was a judge who had the reputation of being very just and fair in all his decisions. 
On one occasion, there was a dispute about a piece of ground which stood at the corner of two streets. The disputants went to law, and the case came before SHIGEMUNE.  The time for the case to be tried, was the month of April, just when melons begin to get ripe.  One of the disputants sent some melons to SHIGEMUNE, as a bribe.  SIGEMUNE took the melons, and, after thanking for them said: -- "Your case will be settled within a day or two." 
The donor was very pleased to receive such an answer; and said to himself: -- "SHIGEMUNE has taken my gift as a bribe, and I shall doubtless win the case." 
On the day of the trial, SHGEMUNE appeared in Court, and, addressing the man who had given the melons in a loud voice, so that all those assembled might hear, said: -- "I am very much obliged to you for those nice melons you sent me the other day.  As regards the ground, it belongs to your neighbor, and you are to give it back to him at once." 
SHIGEMUNE was constantly in the habit of acting in this way. The people of Kyoto accepted his decisions with gladness, always feeling sure that his judgments were free from partiality. 

A FOOLISH AND A WISE FENCER.
IN the time of IEMITSU, YAGYU MUNENORI was considered the first swordsman in the empire. And as such, he was chosen to give instruction in sword exercise to the Shogun and all the chief lords of the land. 
At that time there was another fencing master who had the reputation of being a very good swordsman.  In fact, he himself, as well as his numerous admirers, thought that there was no one in the country to be compared to him.  He was sought for on all sides, and was busy from morning to night giving instruction in various places. 
Gradually this fencer got to hear that MUNENORI was considered the first swordsman in the land. In fact, MUNENORI's being employed by the Shogun was a sufficient proof that he was such. 
After hearing this, the fencer was ill at ease.  "Up till now," said he, "it has been acknowledged on all sides that I am the first swordsman in the land, but now this MUNENORI is said to be the first.  MUNENORI surely cannot have risen to this position all of a sudden, without any hearing anything about him.  Anyhow, I will go and have a bout with him, and we shall see who gets the best of it." 
Thus saying, he set off for MUNENORI's house, and on reaching it, stood outside the door, and in a pompous voice said: -- "Mr. YAGYU, your fame as a swordsman has reached the utmost limits of the land, and it is said that there is no one equal to you.  I should like to have a turn with you, just to see wherein lies your superiority to other fencers." 
MUNENORI's servants heard those remarks, and did not know how to act.  Should they say anything to their master about the words of such a violent man?  Well, as he was not to be appeased, at any rate, they had better go to MUNENORI and tell him what the man had said.  This they did. 
"This is nothing extraordinary," said MUNENORI.  "Show him in." 
The fencer was shown into the guest's room.  There he waited in suspense, thinking all the while of the fencing maneuvers which he should resort to in the conflict that was about to take place. 
As MUNENORI did not make his appearance for some time, the fencer was very angry, and sat staring fiercely in one direction. 
II. 
AT last, MUNENORI opened the door, just behind where the fencer was sitting, so suddenly that it was impossible for the latter to make any preparation whatever, and no sooner was MUNENORI inside the room, than he made a cut at the fencer's head with his fencing-sword.  The fencer adroitly snatched up the sword that he had placed by his side, and, raising it over his head, warded off the blow.
"Well this is insolence;" exclaimed the fencer.  "Why do you not stand up and fence like a man, instead of springing in on me in this way?" 
"There is no doubt that you are very clever in sword exercise;" replied MUNENORI, throwing away his fencing sword as he spoke, "but in your way of looking at things in general you appear to be anything but clever.  If you are diligent, however, you may become a noted man yet.  It is very much to be regretted, though, that you are so backward at present." 
"I fail to see the point of your remarks," replied the fencer in an angry voice.  "Wherein am I deficient?" 
"You come here," rejoined MUNENORI, "with the idea that you are the first swordsman in the land, and you think that you will defeat me in fencing.  Well, supposing you were to succeed in this, do you think you would leave this place alive?  My disciples and followers would immediately cut you down; and in that case what good would your victory be to you?  Because you fail to take all this into consideration, therefore it is that I say, you are a clever swordsman but an unskillful thinker." 
The fencer impressed by the wisdom of these remarks, no longer sought an encounter with MUNENORI. 
There is little doubt that, had they fenced, MUNENORI would have got the best of the encounter. But he showed great wisdom, as well as noble feeling, in warning the visitor against a contest which would have led to his death. 

THIRTY DOLLARS' WORTH OF PRAYERS. 
ABOUT a century and a half ago, in a certain street of Edo, with the exception of one household, all the residents belonged to the Buddhist Sect, known as the Hokke Sect.  In one house only, were found adherents of another sect, known as the Jodo Sect. 
Every morning and evening, in every house but one, the prayer of the Hokke Sect, Namu-myo-ho-ren-ge-kyo, was heard.  In one solitary house, the prayer of the Jodo Sect, Namu-amida-butsu, was recited.  The man who recited it was a carpenter named -- CHOGORO. 
The residents were vexed that there should be this want of conformity in one of the houses of the street.  So they went to the dwelling of the nonconformist and spoke to him in favor of their sect, representing it to be much superior to his.  As is usual in such cases, CHOGORO was not at all influenced by anything they said, but adhered to his own way of thinking as steadfastly as ever. 
The neighbors were always talking about CHOGORO's nonconformity among themselves: -- "If CHOGORO were a man who was living in a hired house," said they, " we would turn him out; but as he possesses a house of his own, we cannot prevent his residing in the street; but he is a poor man; may we not win him over by offering him money?" 
They deputed some one to go privately and sound CHOGORO on the subject.  CHOGORO expressed his willingness to join them, if paid to do so.  They agreed, therefore, to give him thirty ryo for his adherence. 
The man took the money, and soon got rid of all the insignia of his sect, and set up the Hokke idols in his house.  He took the beads which the adherents of that sect use, and was most diligent in repeating his prayers. 
In July of the same year, there was a great festival of the Hokke Sect, and CHOGORO took a prominent part in it, dancing in a most conspicuous place; so that the people all said: -- "What a devout believer CHOGORO has become!" 
Nothing special occurred till February of the following year, when the usual Buddhist festival, known as the Higan Festival, was observed.  From this tine CHOGORO commenced to use the prayer of the Jodo Sect again, and instead of beating a drum, as the Hokke worshippers do, he beat a metal gong.
When asked what was the meaning of this, he replied: -- "I have grown tired of belonging to your sect, I would rather serve AMIDA." 
"What self-will, indeed!" replied the people.  "Well, at any rate, if you wish to act thus, you must return the money we gave you.  If you wish to keep the money, then you must still remain in our sect." 
"When I took the money," replied CHOGORO, "I never promised to remain in your sect the whole of my life.  As, therefore, no time was specified, when I thought you had received the value of your money, there was nothing to prevent my leaving your sect." 
Here the Hokke believers grew very angry, and determined to bring the matter into Court. 
When it was brought into Court, O-OKA TADASUKE, the Judge, after listening attentively to all the particulars, thought to himself: -- "The plaintiffs were in the wrong in urging an adherent of the Jodo Sect to join the Hokke ranks.  I will make them ashamed of themselves." 
"Let the money be returned to the adherents of the Hokke Sect," said TADASUKE.  And then, addressing the Hokke believers, he continued: -- "But before this is done, there is one condition you have to fulfill.  The members of this man's household have for generations been worshippers of AMIDA; but now, on your account, for some months, they have all been praying to NICHIAREN, and so, their prayers to AMIDA are all in arrears.  This you will have to make up for, by praying to AMIDA for the same time that CHOGORO and his family have been praying to NICHIREN.  When you have done this, you can take the money, but not before." 
The Hokke believers went home and talked the matter over.  They agreed that it would be better for them to lose the money than have to pray to any but NICHIREN.  So they decided that they would leave CHOGORO in the enjoyment of his thirty ryo rather than violate their conscientious convictions; and thus the matter was settled. 

TWO BRAVE BOYS. 
MORE than a century ago, in a farm house in Shimosa, there dwelt two young boys.  The elder was thirteen years of age, and the younger eight.  Their real mother was dead; and their step-mother lived a very bad life.  The father, however, knew nothing of the kind of life his wife was living. 
The wife hated her husband, and resolved to put an end to his life.  This she effected by means of a man, who, for certain reasons, wished to get rid of her husband, in the way we are now about to relate.
One night, the man who was plotting the husband's destruction, came, as he frequently did, for he was seemingly on very friendly terms with the family, to spend a social evening in chatting and drinking.  The father took an unusual amount of sake, and at last, when quite intoxicated, fell info a deep sleep. 
From this sleep he was destined never to awake.  When the wife's friend saw that his host was in a dead sleep, he attacked and killed him. 
The elder of the two boys was sleeping near.  He heard a cry of distress, and, peeping out from under the bed-clothes, he saw what was going on.  But he thought to himself: -- "My father is dead, and there is nothing that I can do against this man just now, so, to allay suspicion, I will feign to be asleep.  "Thus saying, he pretended to snore aloud; but every now and again, he peeped out beneath the clothes to see what was going on, and he watched the man as he took the corpse of his father, buried it under the house, and then went cut of the door and shut it after him. 
The next morning the boy got up as usual, and, without showing any signs of suspicion, asked his mother where his father had gone. 
"He has gone on business to the next village," she replied. 
The same morning the murderer came to the house, and asked the boys whether they would not go for a walk with him to the temple grounds behind the village. 
"Our teacher," replied the elder boy, "is a very strict man, and will not hear of our being away from school even for a single day." 
The man did not press the matter, and the two boys were allowed to attend school as usual that day. 
On his way to school the elder boy told his brother all that had happened the previous night.  "And," said he, "it is very certain that we and our enemy cannot live under the same heaven.  Either he or we must be killed.  He knows well enough that if we are allowed to grow big, we shall be sure to avenge our father's death, and so he wishes to kill us at once.  He will, therefore, be trying all kinds of plans for getting us into his power.  To-morrow he will be asking us again to go out for a walk with him.  We will take this occasion to kill him, and thus avenge our father's death.  You generally wear a wooden sword; but ask them to allow you to wear a real one to-morrow.  As you are going out for pleasure, they will not object.  I will commence the attack on him.  Do you wait till I begin, and then give what help you can." 
The next day, it turned out as the boy had anticipated.  The murderer came again to the house, and asked the boys to go to the hill at the back of the village with him, intending to kill them there. 
The boys consented to go, and the younger one begged to be allowed to wear a real sword; to which no objection was made.  The elder brother furnished him with a good one of his own. 
Before the time for their setting out had arrived, the elder boy hid one of the murderer's sandals under the verandah, and when he saw him looking about hither and thither for it, said: -- "Oh!  I remember kicking your sandal under the verandah by mistake just now."  Whereupon, the man knelt down to crawl under the verandah.  When his body was half in, so that he could not see what they were doing, the elder brother made a sign to the younger one, and, hastily drawing his sword, thrust it into the murderer's back; at the same time the younger brother attacked him from the side.  The murderer could do nothing against them.  So they killed him on the spot. 
The step-mother was frightened, and ran off screaming.  The villagers came in.  The woman was arrested and taken off to prison.  The crimes of the man whom the boys had killed came to light.  And their brave deed in avenging their father's death excited the wonder, and called forth the praise of everyone who heard of it. 

A TRUE HEROINE. 
IN the first year of Meiji, in the month of August, the Royalists, in their war against the supporters of the Shogun, after they had taken a number of castles in the O and U districts, proceeded to the Takegawa Hill.  Here, they found that the Aizu troops, supported by contingents from various other provinces, had assembled, and were determined, if possible, to stop their further progress.  But the Royalists were very numerous; and the supporters of the Shogun found that they were no match for them, so, after trying their best to withstand them, the Aizu men and their allies fell back, leaving their guns on the field. 
In the Aizu army there was a woman named TAKE, the wife of a knight called KISHI SHICHIRO, who, when the Aizu men began to run away, was engaged in carrying ammunition to the gunners.  When she saw what was taking place, she said to herself: -- "What! what! our people running away like this!  I will withstand the enemy myself."  She drew her sword, and, rushing at the Royalist troops, commenced slashing away right and left.  She thought that by doing this she would rally the Aizu men, but taking no notice of her, they still continued to run away.  Seeing that it was a hopeless task to fight against such odds, she turned back, and only just managed to make her escape. 
At this juncture, the Aizu troops, who, under MOMOSE -- had been defending the country against the attacks of the Royalists on the Echigo side, met the men who were retreating from Takegawa.  Thus reinforced, the Aizu men determined to try their strength with the Royalists once more. 
TAKE heard of this decision with the greatest delight.  When the forces had united, MOMOSE sent for TAKE, and, praising her for the valor that she had shown in the engagement which had just taken place, informed her that her husband had been killed in battle.  "He has sent you a sword," said MOMOSE, "which I now deliver to you."  Here MOMOSE handed the sword to TAKE. 
TAKE when she heard this news, suppressed her feelings and thanked the General for his kindness to her husband.  She then asked how he was killed. 
Which MOMOSE was relating to her the manner of SHICHIRO's death, the sound of the enemy's guns was heard in the distance, and the General hastened off to prepare for battle.  Again the Royalists were victorious; and MOMOSE himself was killed. 
"It was only yesterday," remarked TAKE when she heard of it, "that MOMOSE buried my husband, and now I am called upon to bury MOMOSE." 
Thus saying, she took up MOMOSE's corpse, and placing it on her shoulder, she carried it to a neighboring cemetery, where it was decently buried.  She then went and committed suicide after the orthodox fashion by cutting her throat. 

THE FIELDFARE'S ARGUMENT AND THE WREN'S ANSWER. 
ONCE upon a time a fieldfare called a large meeting of small birds, and addressed them as follows: -- "You are all in the habit of making a useless noise with the object of calling your friends together whenever you have found some nice food in a garden or on a tree; and the consequence is that, attracted by the noise you make, people find out your whereabouts, and one man comes with a net, and another with bird-lime, and so a large number of you lose your precious lives.  As for me, during the summer I find abundance of food in the woods, where I enjoy myself to my heart's content, concealed among the branches of large trees.  When the winter comes on, I approach the dwellings of men, but in a silent and unobserved manner.  I take my repast on the berries of shrubs but no one is aware that I am doing it.  Thinking, however, that it would be peculiar for me to come and go without making any noise whatever, when I leave the place, I make a little chirp by way of thanks to the owner of the shrubs.  If it happens that I am caught with bird-lime, I remain quiet, turning over on my back.  By degrees the warmth of the feet melts the bird-lime, and I escape by falling to the ground on my back, which does not hurt me much.  With you it is different: when you are caught by lime you jump about in a most wild way, and so you get the bird-lime all over your bodies.  What can be more foolish than such a mode of acting?" 
Here a wren rose from one of the back seats, and, with a smile of compassion for the fieldfare's simplicity, commenced: -- "Man is much more clever than any bird, and if once he thinks of catching a bird, there is no help for the poor bird; it is sure to be caught.  Bird-lime is not only placed on the branches of trees, it is spread about in different places below the trees as well, and, therefore, when you, Mr. Fieldfare, fall off the trees on your back in the way you speak of, down you must go right into the bird-lime below; and what do you do then?  Your escaping in the way you mention is not a thing that is likely to happen often." 
Here the fieldfare looked awkward, and was at a loss how to reply. 
"Men of limited intelligence," remarks the author of this fable, "are like this fieldfare.  If they escape trouble once, they think they will do so always.  People invent all kinds of devices for escaping the snares that are laid for them.  But this only induces those who lay the snares to devise new modes of preventing their escape; and so men find that there is no possibility of altogether eluding danger in the world.  To illustrate my meaning, let me quote from history.  In ancient times, there was in China a King of Go who once visited a mountain where there were a great many monkeys.  All the monkeys with one exception ran away when they saw the King coming.  The monkey that remained was a very large one, and he kept jumping about around the King of Go, as if he was not in the least afraid, and as if he was amused at the simplicity of the King in thinking that he could shoot him.  The King shot an arrow at him, but the monkey caught it in his hand, and smiled scornfully at the King.  This made the King very angry, and he sent for a large number of people and ordered them all to shoot at the monkey at one time.  The monkey with only two hands, not being able to catch all the arrows, was killed. 
"Those who fancy that they are too sharp to be caught in the snares which are laid for them, usually fare very much like this presumptuous monkey.  What they take to be cleverness is no other than short-sightedness." 

A WICKED YOUNG PRIEST AND THE TREATMENT HE RECEIVED. 
SOME time ago, there was in Edo, in the Shitaya district, a temple called the Koganji.  There were in this temple two young priests who were engaged in learning the duties of their office.  One was a most conscientious young man, who had the reputation of the temple at heart.  The other was self-willed, quarrelsome, addicted to drinking, and dishonest. 
It happened once that this wicked young priest was about to sell some of the temple utensils.  His fellow student discovered what he purposed doing, and reproved him sharply for such unprincipled conduct.  He desisted from what he was about to do, but subsequently behaved as badly as ever.  This went on till his companion could bear it no longer.  He felt that he must take some steps to get him dismissed from the temple.  He went, therefore, to the head priest, and told him that his fellow student's misconduct was a disgrace to the temple, and that he ought to be turned out of the establishment. 
The head priest said that he would try what severe reproof would do.  So he gave the mischievous young priest a good lecturing, but did not threaten him with dismissal. 
Not long after, this wicked young priest carried off one of the idols belonging to the temple, and succeeded in selling it.  His pious companion soon discovered what had happened, and informed the head priest of the occurrence.  "I have reproved him," said the young priest, "but he takes no notice of what I say.  If you allow him to go on in this way much longer, there is no predicting what may befall our temple.  If you still decide to keep him on, then, though I am sorry to have to say so, I shall be compelled to leave your service." 
"If this is how matters stand," said the priest, with tears in his eyes, "then I must request you to do as you say -- leave my service.  As for this wicked young man, I must keep him by me for some little time longer, and see what reproof will do in reforming him." 
The pious young priest was very much annoyed, and said to the senior priest: -- "When I offered to leave your service if this wicked young priest was allowed to remain on, I did it simply to induce you to get rid of him, never dreaming that you would, rather than part with him, consent to dismiss from your service a man who has done nothing to merit such treatment.  Is not your mode of acting very unreasonable?  Are you not sacrificing the innocent to the guilty?" 
"You do not," replied the old priest, "understand why I act in this way.  I dismiss you because I know that wherever you go you will have no difficulty in getting a living, and you will always be a credit to those who employ you.  But as for this wicked priest, if he leaves my temple, he may be arrested and put in prison at any time.  In that event, it would appear as though the power of our religion had been insufficient to meet his case; and thus discredit would be brought on our cause.  Therefore it is that I choose to keep him by me and instruct him still further, hoping that, at some time or other, he will be reformed and become a credit to me and the temple of which I have charge." 
The wicked young priest heard what had happened.  He was very much affected by the treatment he received, and determined to live a new life; which from that time he commenced to do. 
From the priest's point of view, the course he took was perfectly right.  Deeming it to be the duty of a priest to reform those who are most in need of it, he rightly thought that, to dismiss a profligate young disciple from his service, was to confess that for such as he the Buddhist religion had no remedy. 

THE MORAL COURAGE OF TADAOKI'S WIFE . 
HOSOKAWA TADAOKI'S wife was the daughter of AKECHI MITSUHIDE.  When her father, MITSUHIDE, treacherously killed ODA NOBUNAGA, TADAOKI's wife said to her husband: --  "Though natural feeling makes me inclined to follow my father on this occasion, I shall not do so.  For he, having committed a great crime, cannot possibly escape the judgment of heaven.  There is no doubt that he will be killed before long.  If I were a man, I would go and reprove him, but being a woman, I cannot do so.  Let me beg you not to join in this wicked conspiracy; unless you wish to lose all your reputation for virtue." 
TADAOKI listened to the advice, and kept aloof from MITSUHIDE. 
Subsequent to this, when ISHIDA MITSUNARI was fighting against IEYASU, after the custom of those days, MITSUNARI tried to get all the Barons' wives into his possession, in order to win their husbands over to his side.  Among others, he was anxious to get TADAOKI's wife, and for this purpose sent five hundred men to surround her house. 
Though all her attendants were in a great state of alarm, TADAOKI'S wife remained quite calm. "Things having come to this pass, I die;" she quietly remarked, and immediately committed suicide. 

A BOASTER BANISHED TO A DESOLATE ISLAND. 
I. 
TSUKAHARA BOKUDEN was a noted fencer and teacher of spear exercise, who lived in the time of the Shogun ASHIKAGA YOSHIAKI [made Shogun A.D. 1565.]  So noted was BOKUDEN that, when he went from place to place, he had some seventy or eighty attendants following him, and spare horses were led by his side for him to ride in turn. 
BOKUDEN was the author of a style of fencing called the Mute-kachi-ryu (The handless-victory-style). 
It happened once that BOKUDEN, on his way eastward from Kyoto, was crossing the water at Yabase, Omi, in a ferry-boat, in company with some seven or eight men.  Among his fellow-passenger, there was a man about thirty-seven years of age, who was tall in stature, had a blackbeard and who used extremely rough language.  He was talking in the most vulgar, pompous fashion of his various powers, and boasting specially of his skill as a fencer.  Anyone listening to his bombastic language, would have imagined that there was no one in the world to be compared to him. 
BOKUDEN tried not to pay any attention to what he was saying.  He lay down and endeavored to go to sleep, but though he dozed a little, he still heard the man going on in the same strain, till he felt it was beyond all bearing.  "You have been talking on all kinds of topics," said BOKUDEN to the man, "and you have said a great many extraordinary things.  But what I find it difficult to pass over without comment, are the remarks you have made on the subject of fencing.  I have paid attention to fencing from my earliest days, but I have never done, as you have been doing, boasted of conquering this man and the other.  All I have aimed at doing is to avoid being beaten by others." 
"Your mode of fencing seems to be a very mild one," replied the man.  "May I ask what style you practice?" 
"I have no special style," replied BOKUDEN.  "The mode I adopt is, without using my hands, to avoid being defeated, and, therefore, I win." 
"Then," rejoined the man, "if you conquer without using your hands, why do you wear two swords?" 
"The reason of my possessing these swords," replied BOKUDEN, "is one of those things which cannot be explained by word of mouth, and can only be thoroughly comprehended by a mind that is in sympathy with me.  What can be told of it, however, I will tell you.  The object of my wearing these two swords is, to enable me to cut off the vanity which is apt to spring up in the heart to the injury of the man, and to cut away all the buds of those evil thoughts which I find sprouting within my breast." 
II. 
"Come! we will have a bout together;" exclaimed the man; "and we shall soon see whether you can conquer without using your hands, or not." 
"The swords of which I have been speaking," replied BOKUDEN, "are designed to preserve life.  But in the case of a bad man, they destroy it."
The man was still more enraged by this remark, as it seemed to contain an imputation.  He told the sailors to land him at the nearest spot.  "We will see," said he, "which of us is the best man." 
Here BOKUDEN remarked: -- "If we land at the ordinary place, there will be such crowds of people in our way that we shall not be able to fence.  There is, as you know, away yonder a detached island, called Karasaki.  Let us make for it.  There will I show you 'The handless-never-lose-style of fencing.'" 
BOKUDEN now, turning to his fellow-passengers, said: -- "I have no doubt you are all in a hurry to get on your way, but stretch a point and have a look at our fencing.  
The sailors pulled hard, and the boat soon reached the appointed spot.  No sooner did it run aground, than the man who had been talking so grandly sprang out of it, and, drawing a sword about three feet eight inches long, shouted to BUKUDEN: -- "Now, come on! and I will cut you in two pieces." 
"Wait a little;" said BOKUDEN coolly.  "My 'Handless-victory-Style' is not one that admits of so much hurry.  I must go about it quietly." 
Here BOKUDEN tucked up his garments, and made it appear as though he were preparing for a great contest.  Then he took off his sword, and, addressing the sailors, said: -- "No sword is needed for 'The handless-victory-style' of fencing, so I will leave this with you.  Instead of the sword please lend me a pole." 
They gave him one of the poles used for pushing off a boat when she is grounded.  He took the pole, and made as though he were about by its means to spring on shore, but instead of this, he thrust the pole into the sand, and with it rapidly pushed the boat off into deep water. 
"Why don't you land?" shouted the man in his fury to BOKUDEN. 
"There is no reason why I should;" replied BOKUDEN.  "Though I am sorry to put you to so much trouble, you had better swim out here to me, and then I will kill you, and so assist you to go to the place prepared for such as you.  This is 'The handless-victory-style' of fencing of which I spoke just now," shouted BOKUDEN, roaring with laughter. 
"You abominable scoundrel! you mean, scurrilous villain! come back, come back!" cried the man.
BOKUDEN, without taking the slightest notice of him, set the sailors to row the boat away. 
When they had rowed out a long distance, BOKUDEN, standing up in the boat, opened his fan, and waving it to and fro as a signal, said with a loud voice: -- "I have given you a lesson in an abstruse part of the art which I practice.  I have no doubt you are filled with admiration of it.  Should you wish it, on some future occasion, I will instruct you further.  For the present, Adieu!  Adieu!" 
There are those who assert that SAKUMA ICHIMU was the subject of this tale.  But probabilities are in favor of BOKUDEN's being the person concerned. 

A GUILTY IDOL BROUGHT TO JUDGMENT.
I. 
WHEN the renowned O-OKA TADASUKE, ECHIZEN-NO-KAMI was Bugyo of Edo, it happened one day that a linen draper's employee set out from a shop with a great many pieces of cotton goods, which he intended to convey to the house of the person who had ordered them.  On his way to the house of the purchaser, he felt very drowsy.  So, stepping aside into one of the little nooks in which it is usual to find a Buddhist idol erected, he rested his burden on the steps, and sitting down close to the idol, was soon fast asleep. 
While he slept, some passer-by carried off his burden.  On awaking, and finding that he had lost the pieces of cotton, he hastened back to the shop to inform his master of what had occurred.  But his master did not credit his tale; he thought that it was more probable that the employee had stolen the goods.  So the master told him that if he did not restore the pieces of cotton at once, he would have to pay for them. 
Not knowing what else to do, the man applied to TADASUKE, the city Bugyo, for help.  TADASUKE expressed himself willing to do what he could in the matter.  He commanded three of his retainers to attend to the business, taking care to give them minute directions as to how they were to act. 
These three officers, acting on the instructions received, gave out to all the people who resided near the place where the robbery had occurred that, as it was suspected that a Buddhist idol had committed a theft, orders had been received to arrest the idol, and arraign it before the city Bugyo; which orders were now about to be executed. 
This report caused great excitement, and the townsfolk assembled in large numbers to witness the novel sight.  Many of the people thought that the men who arrested the idol would be struck dead by the divinity whom it represented.  But nothing of the kind occurred.  The idol was seized, and without making any resistance, was bound with cords, and carried in a cart to the prison. 
As the officers who had charge of the business passed along the streets, they repeatedly informed the crowds whom they met, that the idol which they saw under arrest was to be tried for theft at a certain place on a certain day, and that any of them who might wish to witness the trial would be permitted to do so. 
When the day came round, the people who had heard what was going to take place said to each other:  -- "To-day is ECHIZEN-No-KAMI's Court Day.  A Buddhist idol is to be tried for theft, we must go and witness the trial."  Whereupon, they thronged to the Court House. 
II. 
When the people had thus assembled in large numbers, TADASUKE made his appearance, and, placing the idol in front of him, addressed it as follows: -- "You are one who is placed by the roadside to be a help to all who pass along the road.  But though this is so, you either have been guilty of theft yourself, or you have stood quietly by while others have committed the act.  I charge you to confess which of these two things has happened." 
As the idol made no reply, TADASUKE gave orders that it should be tortured.  So a man came, and with a stick beat it furiously.  But still no answer was elicited. 
"An obstinate idol, indeed!" remarked the Judge.  "We will see what a little imprisonment will do.
TADASUKE now commenced to give orders for the imprisonment of the idol, but before he had finished them, looking around suddenly on the assembly, he asked in an angry tone: -- "Why have all these people come in here?" 
"They have come to hear the trial;" replied one of the officers. 
"Who gave them permission to do so?" asked the Bugyo.  "I will not sanction it.  Order them out, and shut the doors." 
The people were very much concerned about this.  When they came to think of it, their coming to Court in such large numbers was an unusual proceeding; and by it they had evidently excited the anger of the officer whom they all respected so much.  So troubled were they about what had occurred, that some of them were seen weeping as they left the Court. 
When they had all vacated the Court House, the Judge turning to one of his officers, said: -- "Tell the people that I will pardon them for having entered the Court House without my leave.  But as a punishment for their conduct, I decree that each one of them bring a piece of cotton cloth to this place without delay.  They are all to put their names and addresses on the pieces of cloth they send in.  And before they leave the Court House compound to fetch the cloth, take down all their names and addresses for reference." 
"Well!" said the people to each other as they returned to their homes, "we have done a foolish thing to-day.  We went to see a trial; but instead of that, have been tried ourselves.  Never mind; it might have been worse.  A piece of cotton is not much to give to get out of the scrape."
They procured each one his or her piece of cotton, and handed it in to the officer appointed to receive it. 
When all the pieces had been collected, TADASUKE ordered an officer to call the man who had lost the goods.  On his arrival, he was bidden to look through the various pieces of cloth to see whether he could identify any of them as those of his master's.  He found two or three pieces which he was sure were from among those lost. 
TADASUKE immediately learnt from the persons who had sent in these pieces where and how they had obtained them, and by this means discovered who the thief was. 

PARSIMONY. 
THERE are persons who have a keen eye for the traits which disfigure the characters of their fellowmen, but who fail to see that there are features in their own lives which resemble the deformities that attract their notice in others.  The following short stories are instances of this: -- 
Once upon a time there resided in neighboring houses two stingy men.  One day one of them wanted to use a hammer.  He possessed a hammer of his own; but he was very reluctant to use it, for fear of wearing it out and having to buy a new one.  So he sent in next door to ask his neighbor kindly to lend him his hammer. 
"What is your matter going to do with the hammer?" asked the neighbor of the messenger. 
"Drive in something with it;" replied the messenger.  
"What is he going to drive in, a nail or a peg?  If a peg, is it made of soft wood or hard?  And if a nail, is it an iron or a brass nail?" 
"It is an iron nail that my master wishes to drive in," replied the messenger. 
"I am very sorry," answered the man, "but the hammer has been borrowed by a friend." 
On hearing this, the neighbor who had sent to borrow the hammer remarked: -- "Well, I never did believe such a thing possible!  People have always said that our neighbor was a stingy fellow, but I never thought he was as bad as this." 
Whereupon, grumbling as he did it, he took his own hammer out of drawer, and reluctantly commenced to make use of it. 
II. 
There once lived a man, in a place the name of which is not recorded, called -- JIROBEI.  JIROBEI received an annual income of four hundred koku, but he was as stingy as he well could be.  He was very fond of sardines, and seldom touched any other fish.  His reason for liking sardines, however, was their diminutive size and their consequent cheapness.  Even with such small fish, he would not eat a whole one at a meal, but, taking half of it for breakfast, would order the servant to keep the remainder for his dinner.  One day a new servant, who was unacquainted with his habits, being in waiting, and her master having neglected to give orders about the matter, devoured the half sardine that was left from his breakfast. 
The master, when he found out what had occurred, was very angry, and insisted on the girl's purchasing another fish.  This the girl did, bringing the sardine on the table the following morning.  The master looked pleased, and after partaking of half of it, left the remainder for his dinner. 
The girl, who herself was extremely parsimonious, though that, in supplying her master with an equivalent of the portion she had eaten, the had done all that was required of her, and therefore looked upon the other half of the sardine as her own.  Consequently, after her master's meal was over, she lost no time in demolishing the remainder of the fish. 
When dinner time came, JIROBEI on hearing what had become of the remnants of his breakfast, grew livid with rage, and exclaimed: -- "Was there ever such a stingy person in the world as my maid!" 

AN EXCEPTIONAL PRIEST. 
THERE lived in the seventeenth century in Shimabara, Hizen, a priest of the Zen Sect named TOSUI. From very early years TOSUI was a diligent student of the doctrines of his religion and a very devout worshipper.  He was gradually promoted, till he became the rector of one of the large temples of Shimabara. 
After fulfilling the duties of his office for many years at this temple, one day he was found missing. Strict inquiry was made throughout the town and its vicinity, but no trace of his whereabouts was discovered. 
Connected with the temple of which TOSUI had charge, and in the reception of daily instruction from his lips, there was a nun of about fifty years of age.  The nun, being very much attached to TOSUI, was much disconcerted by his departure, and made up her mind that, if it were possible, she would find out what had become of him.  So, without saying a word to her relations, one day she put together a few articles of clothing, and wrapping them up in a cloth, strapped them to her back and set out in the direction of Kyoto, inquiring minutely for TOSUI wherever she went. 
She reached the capital without hearing anything of the object of her search, and commenced to look through the streets and temples of the city.  For some time she was unsuccessful.  But one day, when walking about in a part of the town known as Shijo-gawara, she saw a number of beggars gathered together in one place.  Among them she noticed a very sick man, and this sick man was waited on by a priest who wore the garb of a beggar.  This priest looked very much like TOSUI.  On the nun's approaching him, she perceived that it was no other than he. 
Overcome with joy, she bowed low to the ground, and with tears asked TOSUI why he had relinquised his position at the temple for such a miserable life as the one he seemed to be leading. 
"Priests," TOSUI replied, "are not persons who should sleep beneath well-lined quilts and on easy pillows, surrounded by comforts, and wanting nothing.  To seek and to save, this is the one supreme desire of him whom we worship -- AMIDA NYORAI.  We, his followers, must not spend our time in simply teaching the well-to-do people who attend our temples, but going to the haunts of poverty and vice and searching out the poor and the wretched, must endeavor to rescue them.  This is what I have been doing.  This life affords me more real pleasure than the one I have abandoned.  Those who have charge of a temple, as I had, having a number of subordinates to attend to the work of the temple, are apt to grow idle and negligent.  More than this, their dependence for support upon their parishioners, habitually inclines them to flatter those among their supporters who are rich, for the sake of the favors and gifts to be obtained thereby.  All this leads to the engendering of a dependent and servile spirit.  Who is there that can consent to be maintained by others without running the risk of losing his independence of spirit?  We know that even in the case of the laity, a man with only a moderate amount of self-respect objects to be dependent on others.  How much stronger ought this feeling to be with one who aspires to be a priest.  As I am now situated, I am under no obligations to anyone.  When food is forthcoming I eat it, when it is not, I fast.  Free to go where I will and do what I wish, and with a heart unsullied by any covetous desires whatever, how could I be happier than I am?  Shall I," he continued, pointing to his heart, "becloud this bright mirror by going back again to the life I have left?  No, -- never!" 
Here the nun offered TOSUI a garment which she had brought especially for his use from Shimabara "This," she said, "is a garment made by my own hand, and it will give me real pleasure if you will accept it." 
"Your motive in presenting it to me is an excellent one, which I fully appreciate; replied TOSUI," but, at the same time, there is no use to which one living the life that I do can put such a garment as this." 
"I present it to you in your priestly capacity as a sacred offering; "said the nun, "and it makes little matter what you do with it afterwards.  Even though you throw it away, please accept it." 
"If this be so," replied TOSUI, "then I will accept it." 
Thus saying, he took the garment, and, after repeating the usual invocation of his sect some ten times, he gave it to the sick man whom he was attending. 
Subsequent to this, TOSUI went hither and thither spending his time and strength in helping the distressed.  Now, he would sell sandals cheaper than anyone else, and lay out the money realized in bestowing alms on the poor; and now, collect thrown away rice, and making vinegar with the same, would earn enough to support himself and to enable him to exercise charity to the poor. 
Before his death, TOSUI used to say that he felt no need of praying to AMIDA.  When very old, ho received as a present a picture of AMIDA.  This he pasted to the wall of the little room in which he lived, and with a piece of charcoal, inscribed beneath it the words: -- "My house is small, but I willingly make you its tenant, Mr. AMIDA.  At the same time, I beg you will not expect to hear any prayers about a future life from me." 
TOSUI died in Takanomine A.D. 1683. 

SHORI-SIGHTED ZEAL AND FAR SEEING WISDOM.
ONE of the elements that contributed to the unparalleled success of TOYOTOMI HIDEYOSHI was the skill with which he chose, and the tact with which he used, the men who served him.  Among his numerous renowned retainers, KATO KIYOMASA, called in his younger days KATO TORANOSUKE, was second to none.  Though descended from FUJIWARA KAMATARI, the Prime Minister of the Emperor TENCHI (reigned from A.D. 668-671) KIYOMASA's immediate ancestor were obscure men.  His father -- GOROSUKE was a farmer who resided in HIDEYOSHI's native village of Nakamura.
KIYOMASA, like his second cousin HIDEYOSHI, was from early years a daring and impetuous youth, full of spirit and ambition.  When KIYOMASA reached the age of twelve, HIDEYOSHI, who was some years his senior, was the Governor of the Castle of Sunomata.  Just as the former was viewing with a somewhat envious eye his cousin's rapid rise to power, and beginning to feel discouraged about his own prospects, he received an invitation to become one of HIDEYOSHI's retainers.  This offer he gladly accepted; and from that time to the end of his life spent all his strength in HIDEYOSHI's cause. 
Among the many incidents that are recorded bearing on the relation of the two men to each other, allusions to some of which will be found in the later volumes of this Series, there is one to which special interest is attached, on account of its connection with HIDEYOSHI's career for the sake of the principle which it illustrates.  This incident we now proceed to relate.  
About the time of KIYOMASA's joining HIDEYOSHI, another youth, who afterwards became very noted, KATAGIRI SUKESAKU (afterwards called KATSUMOTO), became one of HIDEYOSHI's retainers. 
After these two had been serving HIDEYOSHI some years, it happened that SUKESAKU was taking lesson in the art of war from a Chinaman called -- SHICHIDAYU, who was living in retirement near the castle of Sunomata.  One day, in the course of conversation SHICHIDAYU remarked to his pupil SUKESAKU, "Your master, KINOSHITA TOKICHIRO (HIDEYOSHI), has peculiar eye.  His eyes look as though they were double, with one film over another.  They pierce through and through the object on which they are fixed.  I see by these eyes that, though now in a subordinate position, TOKICHIRO will hereafter rise to be the first man in the kingdom. Do you, therefore, serve him faithfully and you will be well rewarded." 
SUKESAKU was very pleased to hear such a prediction, and on his return to the castle, related to KIYOMASA what the old teacher had said.  KIYOMASA simply replied with a displeased look, "It may be so." 
The next morning, when on his way to his teacher's house, SUKESAKU met KIYOMASA.  "Where have you been, TORANOSUKE?" asked SUKESAKU.
"I have been to your teacher's house to test the truth of that remark of his about TOKICHIRO, which you reported to me yesterday," replied TORANOSUKE.  SUKESAKU thought by TORANOSUKE's looks there was something amiss, but he did not venture to ask any questions.  He thought it preferable to go and see his teacher, and find out for himself whether anything was wrong or not. 
On reaching SHICHIDAYU's house, he found him lying dead in a pool of blood.  Overcome with surprise, and mad with anger, "TORANOSUKE is the perpetrator of this deed of blood, I have no doubt," he muttered to himself.  "He has not gone far; I will overtake him and avenge my teacher's death." 
Thus saying, SUKESAKU set off at full speed after TORANOSUKE.  TORANOSUKE had anticipated SUKESAKU's speedy return to the place where he had encountered him; and so, he had not stirred from the spot.  There he stood in the middle of the road, looking fierce and threatening, very much like the statues which stand at the entrance of Buddhist temple-grounds, known as the Ni-o.  SUKESAKU now asked TORANOSUKE to accompany him to SHICHIDAYU's house.  This TORANOSUKE at once consented to do. 
On their reaching the house, SUKESAKU, pointing to the corpse of his late teacher, said: -- "What communications were those you had with SHICHIDAYO just now?  Here he lies dead; and if I am not mistaken, it is you who have killed him.  What has brought this about?  What cause has he given you for your enmity?  Answer me these questions, or you die on the spot."  Here SUKESAKU drew his sword, and, boiling over with rage, awaited TORANOSUKE's reply. 
Whereupon, TORANOSUKE, in his turn, looked fierce, and in a tone decided but free from agitation, replied: -- "You are talking very grandly, SUKESAKU.  Just keep cool, will you, while I explain matters a little.  As you conjecture, it is I who have killed SHICHIDAYU.  And now I will tell you why I did it.  You and I are both retainers of KINOSHITA (HIDEYOSHI).  And this being so, we are both alike under an obligation to act faithfully towards him.  The present is a time in which the whole country is in a state of disorder.  The weak are oppressed by the strong, the small are obliged to serve the great.  Among those who have any reputation as warriors, there is not one who does not think that he may one day bring the whole country under his control.  Conspicuous among the candidates for universal power, stands a baron whose force of character and skill in war have made him the lord of most of the territory that surround the capital.  I refer to no other than ODA NOBUNAGA.  Notwithstanding, however, that NOBUNAGA is endowed with numerous elements of greatness, he has one trait in his character which should be always taken into account by those who have any dealings with him.  He is envious of anyone who seems as though he might surpass him in greatness.  If, therefore, it gets to his ears that such a prediction as that of SHICHIDAYU has been uttered in reference to KINOSHITA, there is no saying what may be the result.  Such utterances as these, therefore, are most detrimental to our master's interests, and likely to impede rather than further his advancement.  Thinking that if such a prattler were allowed to live, he would be the cause of trouble to KINOSHITA, I have killed SHICHIDAYU.  What I have done has been done in the cause of our common master.  To you I bear no enmity.  But if, failing to understand all this, you persist in looking on me as an enemy, then, there is no help for it, you will have to atone for your folly by your death.  For my master, I would willingly lay down my life, but for you or anyone clse -- never!"  Here TORANOSUKE, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw, if necessary, awaited SUKESAKU's answer. 
SUKESAKU was entirely overcome by the force of TORANOSUKE's arguments, and in a subdued tone, replied: -- "If this is how matters stand, then, I have nothing to say against what you have done.  In feelings of loyalty to KINOSHITA, I am altogether at one with you.  Explained as you have explained it, I approve of your act." 
Some five or six days after this, HIDEYOSHI, who had heard of the occurrence, called his two retainers, TORANOSUKE and SUKESAKU, and addressed them as follows: -- 
"The thorough interest which you take in my affairs, and your keen sense of the dangers that attend my career, elicit my admiration.  I am pleased to know that I have such discerning men in attendance on me.  But in future, I should be glad if you would take no notice of anything people say about me.  Any dangers that such utterances as those of SHICHIDAYlU may seem to you calculated to give rise to, I know how to avoid.  'Life and death are decreed, and prosperity is an appointment of Heaven.'  If I am decreed to become the ruler of this land, do you think that the speech of such a man as SHICHIDAYU is likely to prove a real hindrance to me?  If a person can be injured by every obscure individual whom he meets, then it is clear that he is not the chosen vessel of Heaven.  I recommend you in future to take a broader view of thing." 
Upon the above occurence the author of the Taikoki remarks: -- 
"A superior man makes himself great or small to suit times and places.  A true man, who has a purpose in life, will contract and expand to suit his surrounding. Most great men have had to do this.  KAN SHIN did it, when he crept beneath the legs of the vulgar townsmen; CHO RYO did it, when he consented to fasten the shoes of an old man whom he casually met on the road; EI SEI did it, when he acted as a hog-keeper; HAN KWAT did it when he became a dog-killer." 
It is one of the characteristics of a truly great man that he can accommodate himself to circumstances, can forego the temporary disgraces, inconveniences, and hardships connected with certain positions for the sake of the prize which it is his one ambition to win.  No one was more aware of this than HIDEYOSHI.  He believed that no complication of circumstances could defeat him in his designs.  Even supposing that such utterances as those of SHICHIDAYU were reported to NOBUNAGA, and they gave rise to an envious feeling in this baron's mind, HIDEYOSHI never doubted but that there were scores of ways of dissipating this feeling.  To a man so fruitful in resources as he, the allaying of such misgivings as those alluded to by KIYOMASA was a mere trifle.  Did his expansion, to take the illustration made use of by the author of the Taikoki, give offence, then HIDEYOSHI could contract himself till the cause of the offence vas removed.  An instance in which he did this is given in a short account of his life, which will be found in Book V. of this Series. 
HIDEYOSHI's professed dependence on the decrees of Heaven for his success was more pretended than real.  His whole life was a striking illustration of the saying: -- "Heaven helps those who help themselves." 

THE END.