ENGLISH READERS. TIIE HIGII SCHOOL SERIES BOOK V. A SLEEPING CONSCIENCE SUDDENLY AWAKENED. TOWARDS the close of the last century, in the fourth block of houses at Yushima, Edo, there lived a man called SABUROBEI. He got his living by purchasing and selling at a profit scraps of old paper. He was, however, very poor, and it was ail he could do to maintain himself and his wife and child. When the child reached the age of nine, whilst playing one day, he was stolen. The man who took him immediately set out for Mutsu. Day by day, as they proceeded on the journey, the boy picked up all the pieces of paper that he saw on the road. The man who had carried him off asked him why he did this. " My 'father," he replied, "gets his living by selling old paper, and so I have been thinking that, if I pick up a quantity of paper on the road and send it back to him, he will be very pleased." Thus he remembered his parents; and more than this, whenever he took his meals, or lay down to sleep at night, or got up in the morning, he made obeisance to his absent parents by bowing his head low. And one day, in a plaintive voice, he said :-" I wonder what my parents are doing just now. How troubled they will be that I am taken from them." Here he burst into tears. This kind of thing took place day after day, and was closely observed by the man who had taken him away. By degrees, it became unendurable to him. He began to feel ashamed of what he had done. And one day he said to himself :- " What I have done to this child is a breach of filial piety in two ways : I have sinned against my own parents, whose precepts I have disobeyed ; and I am sinning against this child, whose heart is ful1 of filial piety. What I have done is more cruel and outrageous than anything that wolves and tigers do. I will return this child to his parents. And in future, though I die of hunger on the road-side, I will no longer live the life of deception that I have hitherto been living." Here he turned and went back to Edo. When he reached Yushima it was evening, and, therefore, both the child's parents were at home. The man stood before the door, and with a loud voice said :-"Here, I have brought back your child; please take him." Thus saying, he ran away ; and no more was seen or heard of him for six or seven years, when, one day, a Buddhist priest passed the house where the father and mother lived. By this time the father was dead, and the son had taken his place in the old paper trade, and was doing well. The priest informed him that he was the man who had stolen him some years previously, and that to atone for his sins he had become a priest, "My change of life-my conversion," said he, "was all owing to the filial piety that I witnessed in the little boy whom I had stolen." Here we have the case of a sleeping conscience suddenly awakened by contact with virtuous and pious feelings in another which, though once active in its own case, had long ceased to influence it. Contrast makes all things plain. We find out what we are not by seeing distinctly what others are. AN EXCEPTIONAL STEP-MOTHER. IN the time of the Emperor KIMMEI (A.D. 540-570), there was a man called UTAYORl, who had charge of the Emperor's horses. He was a man who lived a most praiseworthy life. He discharged the duties of his position most faithfully. In consequence of this he was promoted to a higher rank. This led to his being envied and hated by some of the Emperor's employes. In order, if possible, to degrade him, they spread the report that UTAYORI'S wife was in the habit of dressing herself in a most gorgeous fashion, and that she wore one of the Empress's girdles, which she had stolen. The report was credited. UTAYORI was degraded from his rank, and cast into prison. He was tortured, with the object of getting him to confess that his wife had stolen the girdle. But he flatly denied it, saying :-" She has not stolen it, and those who say she has done so, slander her. I call Heaven to witness that she is innocent." He persisted in this, and was killed. No sooner had he been killed than fire was seen to proceed from a house near that of UTAYORI. The officers of the prison threatened to throw the two sons of UTAYORI into the fire. UTAVORI'S wife pleaded for them. "The children," she said," are innocent, and if you punish them, you will receive the punishment of Heaven. But if you must kill the one or the other, then kill the younger, and spare the elder of the two; and do this for the sake of the father's memory." Here she burst into tears. "Why" asked the gaoler, "do you wish the younger one killed, and the elder one spared? Is it not natural to wish to save the smallest and the weakest? " "The younger child," replied the woman, "is my own child ; the elder, that of a former wife. Were I to keep my own child alive, and have the elder one killed, I should bring reproach upon myself. If this may not be, then let me die with the children." The Emperor, hearing of what had occurred, was very much affected, and for the first time began to be convinced that UTAYORI was innocent. He commanded that they should all be set at liberty, and he restored the family to their former position as keepers of his horses. As a rule, step-mothers, whilst caring for their own children, neglect those of the former wife; but UTAYORI'S wife was an exception to the rule. Such unselfishness as hers is rarely found either in man or woman. A LESSON IN ECONOMY. WHEN ITAIKURA SHIGEMUNE was in Kyoto with the Shogun, he sent to ask his father for some new clothes, and he was specially anxious that they should arrive in time for the New Year's festivities. October had commenced, but still the clothes did not arrive, and SHIGEMUNE began to grow angry that no notice was taken of his request. He despatched a messenger to his father. The messenger was charged to see that the things were sent off at once. At last, at the end of October, a very large box, measuring about six feet square, arrived. "Now, my desire is gratified," thought SHIGEMUNE, when he heard that the box had come. "Bring it here just as it is," said he. He looked at it as it was brought in, and it did not seem to him to look like a box that was full of clothes. He had it opened, and found that it contained a suge-gasa(basket-hat). SHIGEMUNE smiled, and told his attendants to take it away. TANl SANSUKE, a noted scholar, was present when this took place. "As you seem amused at what has happened," remarked SANSUKE, I suppose you know what it means." "Of course I do," replied SHIGEMUNE. "My father has sent me this hat. He knows that, whilst in Kyoto with the Shogun, I shall be in danger of making myself appear to be more than I am. So he has sent this hat, meaning to say:-'This is to hide you from what is above you, and keep you from vain ambition. Be content with your station in lire, and do not give way to display.'" "Ah!" remarked SANSUKE, " with such a parent it is not surprising that there should be such a son." A LARGE MINDED MASTER. IN INOUE MASATOSHI'S house, according to the custom of those days, there was a man whose duty it was to watch the conduct of each member of the household, and on the last day of each month to send in a written report of the same to his master. MASATOSHI had these reports put into a box all together, and at the end of the year he burnt them all without reading them. One of his retainers, TSUGAWA, asked him why he had these documents burnt before he examined them. "If," said TSUGAWA, " the person who wrote and sent in these reports knew that they have been burnt without being looked at, he would be very much discouraged." "The preparation of these documents is the duty of any person who holds the office of metsuke in my house," replied MASATOSHI. "But whether they are read by me or not, is a matter for me to decide. I have little doubt that the good actions recorded in these reports are few, and the bad ones many. Nevertheless, if anything outrageously bad had been done, I should be sure to have heard of it, whether the metsuke reported it or not. And as for small faults, I had rather not read anything about them. Suppose I were to search out the minor faults of my employes, and were 'on all occasions to take notice of them, it would end in my losing good and faithful servants. Those who, like the metsuke spend their time in hunting out evil, generally know less about it than those who encounter it unawares. These latter listen as though they were not expecting to hear anything amiss. It is before them that people appear as they are, and, where there is no ,reserve, then both good and evil lie open to view." TRUTHFULNESS. ADACHI TAKUMI was on one occasion sent by GAMO, SHlIOTSUKE-NO-KAMI, to DoI TOSHIKATSU, OI-NOKAMI, on some business. TAKUMI, had an interview with TOSHIKATSU, and after saluting him and making a few casual remarks, he, bowing his head and; placing his hands on the floor, remained quiet. TOSHIKATSU thought that his visitor must be sick. Just as he was conjecturing the nature of the disease from which he was suffering, TAKUMI looked up and said;-"It is really very negligent of me, but I have forgotten on what business I have come to you. If you will allow me, I will retire to the next room and collect my thoughts." "By all means," replied TOSHIKATSU, "and take your time about it." TAKUMI adjourned to the next room, and, after thinking a little, the particulars of the business on which his lord had sent him all came back to him, and he delivered the message to TOSHIKATSU and took his leave of him. After his departure, TOSHIKATSU turned to his attendants and said:-"A rare man that. The majority of people who bear a message, if they happen to forget its purport, invent something to act in its stead; but this man, when he forgot his lord's message, was not afraid or ashamed to say so. He afterwards informed GAMO what had occurred, and spoke in the highest terms of the truthfulness of TAKUMI. It was fortunate for TAKUMI that he had such a discerning man as DOI TOSHIKATSU to deal with. Had he been sent to a man less considerate, then, instead of being commended for his honesty and truthfulness, it is likely that he would have been reproved for his negligence. It was TOSHIKATSU'S love of truthfulness that led him to appreciate so thoroughly the conduct of TAKUMI. If virtue is to meet with its reward, there must not only be men to perform virtuous acts, but virtuous men to appreciate those acts. Yet virtue is not to think of the reward it will or will not receive. It must, like the sun, shine because its nature is to shine, and it must be true to its nature by shedding its beams not only on the grateful and the good, but on the unthankful and the evil. PREPARATION FOR THE DUTIES OF LIFE. IN ancient times there was a man who purposed to make a Buddhist priest of his son. They set the lad to study various books, and wished him, if possible, to master the law of cause and effect. When his education was complete, the intention was to put him in charge of a temple, and allow him to spend his whole life in preaching. When the preparation for his life-work commenced, the boy said to himself:-"I must prepare myself for all that may happen in my life. When I have become a priest, doubtless I shall be sent for from time to time; sometimes they will come for me with a palanquin, and sometimes in a carriage, but at times, too, they will come with a horse, and then it will be necessary for me to know how to ride; for it would never do to fall off into the mud, and arrive at a rich man's house with soiled clothes. I must learn how to ride, then, at once." So he spent some time in learning how to ride. "If I go to read the scriptures or to conduct funerals at the houses of any of the gentry, there will certainly be some little entertainments going on, and on these occasions it would never do for me to be without the accomplishments which, when possessed, invariably make their possessor popular at an evening party. I had better practice singing and playing." THE EMPEROR GODAIGO AMONG THE DRIED FISH. IN 1332 A.D., at the time of the Hojo rebellion, GODAIGO and his faithful attendant TADA-AKI, fleeing from their enemies in Oki, were one day walking alone when they met a farmer of whom they enquired the way to Chiburi. "The place is not more than 50 cho from here," replied the farmer, "but the road to it is one in which you may easily go astray, so, if you will allow me, I will act as your guide to the port." When they reach Chiburi, some sailors came forward and offered their services to the Emperor. TADA-AKI told the sailors who he was, and that he wanted to go to Izumo or Hoki; and said that, if they would convey him to that place in safety, they would be handsomely rewarded. They agree, and hastily set off. Before they had traveled far, a boat came after them. In it was SASAKI KIYOTAKA, who was keeping that part of the country for the rebel. The sailor were at their wits' ends, and did not know what to do. "Don't be alarmed," said the Emperor, "just appear as though you were fishing, will you." The sailors put the Emperor and TADA-AKI in the stern of the boat, and covered them over with dried fish . The rebels came and searched the boat, but of course did not dream of looking for an Emperor beneath a heap of dried fish. After they had finished their search, the sailors, with calm faces, asked what they wanted. "The Emperor," said they, "has fled from these shores very recently, and he cannot be far off." "About ten o'clock last night, there was a boat started out of the harbor, which had some suspicious looking people on board," replied the sailors. "One had a crown on, and another an eboshi; and the attendants looked like court lords. They have gone by this time some five or six ri. That is the boat, no doubt," said they, pointing to a boat far away in the distance. Thereupon KIYOTAKA ordered his men to pursue that boat. A wind sprang up which enabled the Emperor to get out of the reach of his enemies. He escaped in reaching the capital, where he was re-established in power. @ A NOVEL MODE OF DISCOVERING CRIME IT happened once that a thief, who would not confess his crime, was brought before, O-OKA TADASUKE, ECHIZEN-NO-KAMI, who was asked to try and devise some means of inducing him to confess. TADASUKE had a large box brought into the Court House, and ordered that the thief's wife should be placed in the box before his eyes. Then he had the box removed to an adjoining room, and caused an officer to be put into it in the wife's stead. When the arrangements were complete, the box was again brought into the Court House, and TADASUKE addressed the thief as follows:-"As you refuse, without punishment of some sort, to confess the crime that we are sure you have committed, instead of administering to you the usual torture, I decree that you carry your wife once around the town." The man put the box on his back and set off around the town. When he reached an unfrequented spot, where he thought that no one would hear him, he exclaimed:-"I say, wife is a thing that ought not to be committed. What trouble it brings us into!" Here the officer sprang out of the box, and uttering the words "Go Foi." as is usual in the case of an arrest, took the man into custody. Having thus committed himself, the thief was no longer able to conceal his crime. DISCRIMINATION. IT happened once that the third Shogun, IEMITSU, (became Shogun A.D. 1623) joined a number of friends who were spending the evening with him in discussing the characters of their friends and acquaintances. The guests all united in speaking very highly of a certain person-whose name is not given-saying that he was undoubtedly a first-rate man, as everybody spoke in his favor. IEMITSU enquired whether there was any exception to those who had praised him. "No exception whatever," they replied, "everyone praises him." "There is something singular," remarked IEMITSU, "in any person of character being liked by everyone. If about half of those who know a man speak ill of him, and about half speak well, that is a sign that he is a man of some force of character. If everyone speaks well of him, he is sure to be a man of weak character who gains his popularity by falling in with the opinions of all with whom he comes into contact. He is a man whose one aim is to suit himself to the occasion, and thus win the goodwill of all present. Take, as an example of this, what occurs in a Court of Justice. One man is declared to be in the right, and the other in the wrong. Those upon whom judgment has been passed will not view the decision in the same light; and, from speaking against the decision, they will go on to speak against the judge who pronounced it. In other spheres the same thing takes place. It is not to be expected, therefore, that men of character, who hold decided opinions, should be spoken well of on all sides " THE BRAVERY AND LOYALTY OF A FATHER AND SON. IN the Genko period (A.D. 1331-1333) there was in Japan a rebellion known as the HoJo TAKATOKI rebellion. At that time, MURAKAMI YOSHIMITSU, also called HIKOSHIRO, was a retainer of MORlNAGA, the third son of the Emperor GODAIGO. They fled to Totsugawa at the time of the rebellion. The rebels looked for them everywhere, and offered a reward of one thousand ryo to any one who should bring the head of MORlNAGA to them. But MORINAGA and his few followers, being dressed in the guise of yamabushi, were not discovered. As they were on their way to Yoshino, they had to pass through a place which was held for the rebels by one IMOSE. At first those in command refused to allow them to pass. But MORINAGA sent one of his followers to IMOSE to explain who he was. IMOSE said that if he would show some token by which it might be known for a certainty that he was the son of the Emperor, he should be allowed to pass. MORlNAGA gave his flag, made of brocade, as a token and went on. YOSHIMITSU, who, for some reason or other, had fallen a little behind, arrived at the place after MORINAGA had quitted it. Just when he reached it, the people were in the act of conveying the flag through the streets of the town; and YOSHILMITSU happened to meet them. He was very angry when he saw the flag in their hands. "How is it that such menials as you are carrying this flag? "he shouted, and, without waiting for a reply, he rushed at them, knocked two or three of them down, and seizing the flag, ran away after his lord and very soon overtook him. MORINAGA succeeded in escaping to Yoshino. In May of the year following that in which the above incident took place, MORlNAGA and YOSHIMITSU were besieged in the temple of Yoshino, which they had fortified and defended in a most desperate manner. They were overpowered, however, by numbers, and they felt that it would be impossible to hold out much longer. So YOSHIMITSU said to MORINAGA:-"You escape as soon as possible. I will put on your armor and make the rebels think that I am you." To this MORlNAGA consented. YOSHIMITSU'S son, YOSHITAKA, wished very much to remain with his father, and die fighting in the cause of GODAIGO. But his father bade him accompany MORINAGA. When YOSHIMITSU thought that MORINAGA had escaped to a good distance from the place, he went out on the walls of the fort, clad in MORINAGA'S armor, and with a loud voice said to the rebels :-" Here will I kill myself. Behold ,he third son of the Emperor GODAIGO die. I die by my own hand. Take my death as a sign of what will happen to you all before very long. But in saying this, I do not mean to imply that you will not meet with the death that awaits rebels." Thus saying, he committed 'harakiri," and, taking his bowels in his hand, dashed them against the wall, and died. The rebels thought that they had obtained their desire now that MORINAGA was dead. They rushed forward and took the head of the man whom they supposed to be the Emperor's son. They soon discovered their mistake, and pursued MORINAGA, and overtook him on the road, but YOSHITAKA withstood the pursuers single handed. He cut down man after man, and after receiving over twenty wounds he put an end to himself with his own hand,' MORINAGA, in the meanwhile, having effected his escape. CONSIDERATION FOR THE FEELINGS OF OTHERS. THERE was in ITAKURA SHIGENORI'S house a bow which was very much valued, as it was one of the heirlooms of the family that had been handed down from generation to generation. It was always placed in a conspicuous part of the room into which guests were shown. One day, when SHIGENORI was out, one of the young men employed in the house thought he should like to try the bow. So he took it down and bent it. Being very old, it broke in two. The youth was very much frightened. He went immediately to SHIGENORI'S chief retainer and confessed what he had done. The retainer was greatly concerned. But he determined to tell SHIGENORI what had happened without delay, and to leave him to deal with the case as he thought fit. SHIGENORI, when he heard of it, commanded them to call the young man. The youth, on hearing that he was summoned to the presence of his lord, was in a greater fright than ever, making sure that, if not death, some dreadful punishment awaited him. When he came into SHIGENORl'S presence, SHIGENORI said:-"You have done a faithful act in breaking this bow. Of course you wanted to see whether it was a good one or not, naturally expecting that such a man as I would have a good bow. If it would break with you, it would break with me. And supposing that I had attempted to use it on some important occasion, it would have proved false to me, and perhaps might have brought on me some great calamity. You have, thus, unconsciously done me a good turn. "It is not at all probable that SHIGENORI would ever have attempted to use such an old bow. But he knew how distressed the youth was, and to allay his troubled feelings and make him feel happy again, he spoke in this kind and considerate way to him. When SHIGENORI spoke thus, he, doubtless, remembered what he himself was in the habit of doing when young, and this led him to deal kindly with the unintentional mischief perpetrated by one of his followers. A FAINT-HEARTED GENERAL AND HIS BRAVE WIFE. AT the time of the rebellion in the north (A.D. 673), a general called KAMITSUKE KATANA was in command of the government troops. He was defeated by the rebels and fled into his fort. The rebels surrounded the fortress, and the general was thinking of making his escape under cover of night, when his wife came to him and addressed him as follows:-"Your ancestors were men who were proud to cross the wide ocean, and to seek out their foes in every quarter. Hence they have handed down to posterity an illustrious name. Are you about to cast a blot on this name by fleeing from the enemy? " Seeing that her words had little effect on him, she gave him wine and induced him to drink himself tipsy. When he was in a dead sleep, she took his sword, and, bidding her female attendants follow her, went to the walls, and, with the other women, commenced to shoot vigorously at the enemy. The noise of this fresh and unexpected attack alarmed the rebels. Just when they were in great confusion, the general awoke, and, stimulated by his wife's daring, exerted himself strenuously, and succeeded in defeating the besiegers. EVIL OVERCOME BY GOOD. SAKAI MASACHIKA was one of the retainers of TOKUGAWA IEYASU. When IEYASU Was in Mikawa. MASACHIKA was the superintendent of his household affairs. There was at this time among IEYASU'S retainers a man named KOMIYA, who had lately been enrolled. This man met MASACHIKA in the road one day, and saluted him. MASACHIKA did not observe him, and therefore did not return the salutation. KOMIYA was very much annoyed by this, thinking that MASACHIKA had done it purposely with the intention of insulting him. So the next time he met MASACHIKA, he took no notice of him whatever. This demeanor he maintained at every meeting. IEYASU was displeased with KOMIYA'S conduct. Up to this time he had allowed him one thousand koku of rice a year, but on hearing how he had behaved to MASACHIKA, he reduced it to eight hundred. MASACHICA heard of this reduction, and immediately requested IEYASU to increase the salary again. "Has he not behaved very impolitely to you?" asked IEYASU. "I reduced his income purposely, hoping that this reduction might induce him to leave my service. Why do you now ask that his salary may be increased again?" "I am unworthy of all that you have bestowed on me," replied MASACHIKA, "but owing to your great kindness I have been promoted to the office of superintendent of your household affairs. Holding this position, I am well acquainted with every one in the house. And with the exception of KOMIYA, who, in blunt honesty, refuses to show any mark of respect, all the members of your house treat me with deference. But though KOMIYA acts as he does, in my opinion he is no ordinary man. He is one of those men who, if treated well by you, will gladly sacrifice his life in your cause. As this is so, instead of decreasing his salary, I should recommend that it be increased to two thousand koku a year." IEYASU consented to grant KOMIYA eighteen hundred koku. And when informing the latter of this increase, IEYASU explained to him fully how it had come about. Hereupon, KOMIYA went to MASACHIKA and apologized for his impoliteness; and after this they became good friends. As MASACHIKA had predicted, KOMIYA served his lord faithfully, and gradually rose in rank till he became a general. ABE TADA-AKI AND THE FOUNDLINGS OF HIS DAY. IN London there is a large hospital called "The Foundling Hospital," to which all unclaimed children, found on the streets of great cities or in country roads and lanes, are sent to be fed, clothed, and taught. In the seventeenth century there lived in Japan a man, called ABE TADA-AKI, who turned his house into a foundling hospital. In it were gathered a number of boys and girls who had been cast off by their parents, and who were brought up by TADA-AKI with the greatest care. When it became widely known that TADA-AKI would take care of any children who were abandoned on the roadside, poor parents who found it impossible to maintain their children, would wait till TADA-AKI came along the road, and then would place their children in his way One of TADA-AKI'S followers, seeing this, remonstrated with his master. "Had you not," said he, "better stop this practice of yours. People see that you are ready to maintain all the children whom you pick up on the roadside, so they purposely place their children in your way. If this goes on there is no end to the children whom you will have to support." To these remarks, TADA-AKI replied:-"There is nothing stronger than the affection of parents for their children. That parents should be able to overcome this strong feeling and get rid of their children, must be owing to a state of extreme poverty. Therefore, even supposing that they purposely hand their children over to me, I cannot well refuse to maintain them. If, in doing this, I were in any way stinting the members of my household or putting them to inconvenience, it would be another matter. But I am merely using money generally squandered on pleasure and debauchery in maintaining children whose parents are too poor to provide for them. Besides this, I am a man of some rank and position, and, therefore, ought to be actuated by public spirit, reaching even to the lowest strata of society. The number of children who are abandoned on the roadside in this country is very large, and is a disgrace to the nation. The wiping off of this disgrace I look upon as part of my duty." Subsequent to this, his earnestness in maintaining and educating the children of the poor increased rather than diminished. A large number of boys and girls were sent out into life by him, well equipped for its duties and well guarded against its temptations. THE TWINS. IN Kyoto, many years ago, there was a chemist's shop in which were sold some pills called "Shin-kyo-mambyo-en ," that is, "God-revealed-all-disease-curing pills." The medicine was very much sought after, and was said to have cured all kinds of diseases. The chemist's shop at which it was sold was situated in Shijo-dori. The keeper of the shop was over fifty years of age, and yet was not blessed with a child to inherit his property. When, one day, he was expressing his regret at this state of things, to his great joy his wife informed him that she was expecting to give birth to a child. Before, however, the child was born, he died. The woman gave birth to twins. Being desirous of rearing them both. she obtained good nurses for them. The names given to the children were UMEMATSU and TAKEMATSU. When they reached the age of thirteen, their mother died suddenly. After her death each of the nurses maintained that the son of which she had charge ought to inherit the parent's property. This led to a great dispute between them, and, failing to settle the matter amicably, they referred it to a Court of Justice. While the trial was going on, a man who had been formerly employed in the family came into court, and said that a more important matter than the division of property was to decide who should hold the recipe for making the medicine. This could not be given to both, therefore it would be better to decide who was to have it. The Judge ordered the midwife who had attended the mother of the children to be called, and he ascertained from her that TAKEMATSU was born last. So, according to the custom of the country, it was decided that TAKEMATSU was the eldest son and that he was to inherit his father's property. The foster-mother of UMEMATSU was very much displeased with this decision. "I am sure," she said, "that the mother of the children intended UMEMATSU to be considered the eldest son, and the proof of it is seen in the name given to him. For is it not customary to give the name of UME to the eldest child-the plum being the first tree to bloom. As this was a woman's quarrel, the Judge saw that reasoning about the thing would do little good, so he agreed to do as the foster-mother of UMEMATSU proposed. He decided that the property should be divided between the two. But in carrying out this decision, he hit on a way of discovering who was the lawful heir to his father's estate. "Very well," said he Judge, "it shall be as you say, everything down to the smallest iota shall be divided into two parts, and half given to each. And we will begin with religion. To what sect do you belong?" he asked the foster-mother of UMEMATSU. "For generations we have all belonged to the Nichiren sect, she replied, "and so firm are we in our adherence to that sect, that unless a person belongs to it we do not employ him or her as a servant in our house." "If this be the case," replied the Judge," "then bring the image of Nichiren to the court." On their bringing it, he said:-"As everything that belongs to the house has to be divided into two parts, you had better begin with this. Do you who are concerned in this matter take the image and divide it into two parts." As she and her friends went home, they remarked to each other that the command to cut the image the divinity, on whom they were to depend for future happiness, into two parts was a very severe one; and that no doubt this had happened owing to their persisting in a useless controversy, which, like so many of the quarrels of women, had neither rhyme nor reason in it. 'We will go," said they, "to the authorities and ask them to confirm the former decision, and make TAKEMATSU the inheritor of the property." They made the request, and the matter was thus settled. COVETOUSNESS MEETS WITH ITS REWARD. IN Shichijo-dori, Kyoto, some time ago, there resided a rich merchant. He was enormously rich, and had shops and store-houses in various parts of the town. But he thought that he should like to have one more store-house. So he built one, measuring 30 ft. long and 15 ft. broad. Part of it was built on his neighbor's ground. The boundary between the two lots was not clear, and what he did was done unwittingly. When he had finished the building, which was put up in splendid style, the man next door sent to say that the store-house projected into his lot about 2 ft. 6 in,, and wanted to know what the merchant meant by such conduct. When the rice merchant heard this, he was very much concerned. He went immediately to see for himself whether such was the case. He found that it was as his neighbor had said: the store-house projected some 2 ft. 6 inches into his ground. He informed the man at once that the mistake was owing to inadvertence. "As you know very well," he said, "the grass has grown so high of late, that it is difficult to see the boundary between our two lots. As the mistake has occurred through no desire on my part to take more than I am entitled to, I hope that you will overlook it." The owner of the adjoining lot was relentless, and would come to no terms. Various people went to remonstrate with him, but all to no purpose. The owner the store-house begged to be allowed to leave the building as it was till it needed repair. "Then" said he, "I will take down that part which has been built over your lot, and give back the ground." "And," added he, as you said nothing whatever all the time the building was in process of erection, it is plain that you do not specially need the ground. I am witling to pay rent for it at the rate of 50 momme of silver a year." But the man would not hear of this, saying:-" I will make this stealer of ground an example to the town; his conduct shall not easily be forgotten." He was doing all this with the object of getting a large sum of money out of the rice merchant. The latter was very much troubled about it, and increased the sum offered to two kwamme a year, apologizing afresh for what he had done. But the man would not accept any of these proposals, and carried the matter into court. The Judge, after hearing the particulars of the case, thought that the plaintiff had acted in a most crafty way. But he did not show any signs of holding such an opinion, and proceded to pass judgment on the case. "The putting up a building, or part of a building, on another man's piece of ground," said the Judge "is bad, and no excuse can make it good. Therefore," said he to the defendant, "let that part of the store-house which has been built on your neighbor's ground be cut off and taken away. And let it be done to-day. And you are to superintend the work yourself." So the rice merchant procured a number of carpenters and other workmen, and the work was accomplished in a short time. Those who looked on and saw what was in progress, thought that a man who could cause his neighbor so much trouble must be entirely devoid of all consideration for others. When the work was reported to be finished, the Judge bade the owner of the storehouse make out an account of the expenses incurred This he did. By the account it appeared that the job had cost 874 momme, or about one hundred and forty ryo, "Let this be paid by the plaintiff," said the Judge. Here the plaintiff was overcome with astonishment, and said:-"There can be no reason why I should pay the money." "You are a good-for-nothing scoundrel," replied the judge. "Before the building went up, day by day the leveling of the ground went on, and the erection o a stone wall, to act as a foundation to the store-house, was completed. You saw all this, but remained quite quiet, nor did you protest till the building was finished. This is a proof that your design was, not to prevent mistakes but to see how much money you could make out of the affair. You are, therefore, a despicable man, and you must pay the cost of putting the matter to rights. If you have not sufficient ready money to do this, then you must sell your house and all you possess, and make the required payment." So the man had to sell his house and all his goods, and succeeded in getting about two hundred ryo. Out of this he paid the one hundred and forty ryo to the rice merchant, and with the remainder he paid his debts. Ultimately, he had about one ryo left. This and the bag in which his wife's beads were kept, were the only things of any value that he possessed. As he could no longer remain in Kyoto in this reduced condition, he went to a place where he was unknown; here he was obliged to begin life over again. All this was the reward of covetousness. INGENUITY. I. IEMITSU, one day, went out shooting deer near Itabashi, Edo, where, in those days, they were very plentiful. He and his companions shot a large number, and in the evening when it was nearly dark, IEMITSU said he should like to know how many they had killed, so he requested HOJO SHlNZO to count them. The deer were lying about in all directions, so that, at such a late hour, it was next to impossible to count them in any ordinary way. SHlNZO tore up a large number of small pieces of paper, which he counted. Then giving them to a man, he told him to attach one piece to each stag, which done, SHINZO' counted the number left, and thus ascertained how many animals had been killed. ll. On one occasion, when IEMITSU was suffering from a headache, and feeling indisposed to attend to any business whatever, some of his officers came to consult him about a certain bridge they were about to erect. They wanted to know what degree of curve he wished the bridge to have. They said that if the curve were too sharp, while the shape of the bridge would please the eye, it would be difficult to cross; but if, on the other hand, there was no curve whatever, then, though the bridge would be easy to cross, it would be very ugly. IEMITSU was disinclined to expend much thought on the matter, and the consequence was that the officers obtained no decided answer from him. MATSUDAIR NOBUTSUNA, hearing of their difficulty, came in, and, taking three fans in his hand, skillfully arranged them in all kinds of shapes, showing the different curves which bridges might have. By this means, IEMITSU was induced to decide what degree of curve he wished given to the bridge. The above instances show the presence of that inventive spirit and originality which so many, men lack, but which, wherever found, are the source of immense pleasure to their possessor and great profit to the world at large. INSINCERITY AND TROUBLE. KOMIIYAMA TOMONOBU was one of TAKEDA KATSUVORI'S most faithful retainers. There were two flatterers, who were always about the person of KATSUYORI, whose insincerity was well known to TOMONOBU, and whom, therefore, he was most anxious to get rid of. But his master would not hear of his interfering in any way. It happened that a dispute arose between TOMONOBU and OYAMADA SHOGEN on some matter, and sa they were unable to settle it, they brought it before KATSUYORI. SHOGEN bribed the two flatterers, NAGASAKA CHOKAN and ATOBE KATSUSUKE, to take his side, and through their influence TOMONOBU was dismissed from the service of KATSUYORI. In the war that took place in 1582 A.D., KATSUYORI was defeated by ODA NOBUNAGA. When KATSUYORI was about to flee to the Temmoku Mountains, TOMOBU MONOBU mounted his horse and rode out to meet him. As they met, TOMONOBU exclaimed:-"I have been dismissed from your service, and therefore my making my appearance at such a time of danger as this may look like an attempt to expose the folly of him who once was my master. On the other hand, if, at such a critical time, kept out the way. I should be remiss in doing what I feel to be right, so that, rather than do violence to my conscience, I will run the risk of exposing your folly." What he meant by this remark was that, when KATSUYORl'S friends and enemies saw TOMONOBU faithfully fighting for the man who had, at the instigation of flatterers, dismissed him from his service, they would be reminded of KATSUYORI'S folly in thus acting. "Where is CHOKAN?" asked TOMONOBU. "He left yesterday," replied KATSUYORI. "And where is KATSUSUKE?" "He too is gone." "And SHOGEN?" "He left me ten days ago." "Ah!" said TOMONOBU," for a long time I have known that some day or other things would come to this. KATSUYORI hung his head and did not answer a word. Not long after this NOBUNAGA'S party renewed their attack. TOMONOBU, though he foresaw the fruitlessness of the effort, made a gallant attempt to redeem his master's fortunes. But it was too late. He and his former master fell fighting desperately to the very last. The men who forsook KATSUYORI'S standard, agreeable to their time-serving characters, all expressed themselves willing to become the followers of NOBUNAGA. But in ODA NOBUNAGA and his retainers they had to deal with men who held such unsteadfastness of purpose, base cowardice, and unfaithfulness in supreme contempt, and who therefore ordered them to be put to death. A time of trouble invariably shows who are true friends and who are not. The insincere often pass undiscovered in the days of prosperity, but adversity reveals them in their true colors. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. ONCE upon a time there was, in Nishi-no-toin, Kyoto, a small house advertised for sale. There were two men of the same trade who agreed to purchase the house together, dividing it in the middle, and each paying half of the money. Before going into the house, there were certain repairs and alterations which it seemed to them ought to be undertaken. Among them, the most important was the alteration of the wall. It was originally in the corner of the lot, but the two men agreed that this was a very inconvenient place; so they decided to have a new well dug just on the boundary between their two residences. They consulted together about it, and one of them said:-"In digging a well one has to be careful about the water line. The ancients used to say that the best way of finding out where water is most plentiful is to place some cormorant feathers on the ground over night. In the morning it will be found that where there is most water, there the feathers are the wettest. "This plan was adopted, and then the well was commenced. The workmen had not dug very deep before they struck against something which arrested their attention. They soon found it to be a jar, which looked as though it contained something valuable. It was carefully sealed up, and there was something written on it, which, on examination, they found to be the date of its interment; but part of the inscription was illegible, and all that was left of the date was the 2nd day of the 10th month of Tatsu. The workmen who were digging the well were delighted, and immediately informed the owners of the ground of what had occurred. "We have found some money," said they. "See what is written on the jar! We hope you will reward us well for finding this." One of the owners immediately said: "The well has been dug on my lot, and therefore the jar belongs to me." The other said: "No, I was the first to propose that we should buy the ground, and therefore the jar ought to belong to me." This gradually became known in the town, and all the people in the neighborhood talked about nothing else but the dispute. The two owners of the land could not settle the matter, so they agreed to go before the Court. They had a sketch of the jar prepared, which they presented to the officials who tried the case. In the preliminary enquiry which took place, the first question had reference to the former owner of the ground. "Was it not," asked the Judge, "the property of a man who used to hold Cha-no-yu parties on the premises?" One of the old men who lived in the neighborhood, happening to be present, said that what the Judge had surmised was correct; that the former owner of the land, who had died fourteen years previously, had held Cha-no-yu parties there, and that his grandson had inherited the property, but that afterwards, for some reason or other, it had to be sold. "If this is the case," said the Judge, "then there is no doubt that there is nothing very valuable in the jar, but that after the manner of sthetes|who are fond of making use of things that look very old-this jar was buried to change its color and make it appear antiquated. Go therefore, and take it up; and as it is certainly empty, and ought to be filled with something, you had better use it as a vessel in which to put your covetousness." They went home and found that the case was just as the Judge had represented. A FAITHFUL SOLDIER. KUROSAWA SEIEMON was a man who belonged to the lowest class of the Shogun YOSHIMUNE'S followers. In 1774 A.D., when a great Buddhist ceremony was taking place, the Shogun had some theatrical performance in his court-yard. He allowed a large number of high rank officials to come and see the performances. Those who took part in the theatricals used a room of the Shogun's, called "Kiku-no-ma", for changing their clothes, and from this room they issued forth to the temporary stage. The high officials pressed forward, and tried to look into the room, to see what was going on there. When the performers observed this, they asked the Shogun to order that this intrusion be stopped. SEIEMON was among those who were deputed to put a stop to the pressure, which he did most vigorously, not with standing that it became more and more violent. But at last, MATSUDAIRA YORIYUKI, with two other noble, got in. SEIEMON did his best to persuade them to keep back; but seeing that they paid no attention to him, he grew angry, and said;-However low my rank may be, I am commanded by my superior officer to keep people out of this place, so that no matter how high in rank those who try to get in may be, I shall do my best to prevent their doing it. "Do you not know who I am, you rude rascal? asked YORIYUKI angrily. "This is not a matter of being rude or not being rude," replied SEIEMON. "I am simply obeying the commands of my lord. I am a man of low rank; but I know you are. You are no other than the Lord of Harima. But I am not to be kept from discharging my duty from fear of your great name; no, not even if the three great lords, who, like the present Shogun, are descendants of IEYASU, were to come and try to get in, would I make way for them. If you refuse to listen to what I say, and insist on entering, then I shall know how to treat you." YORIYUKI said no more, and immediately left the place. Subsequently, however, he sent a priest, who was in his employ, to ascertain the name of the man who had opposed his entrance to the Kiku-no-ma. SEIEMON concealed nothing. He gave his name in full, and stated to what rank of soldiers he belonged. YORIYUKI commanded some of his retainers to follow the matter up. "SEIEMON," said he, "is a rude fellow, and you know how he ought to be treated." The@matter was brought into Court. It was tried by NAKAYAMA GOROZAEMON and FUKAO HAYATO-NO-SHO. They asked SEIEMON what piece of rude conduct he had been guilty of. "I have been guilty of no rude conduct whatever," replied SEIEMON, without showing the slightest fear or concern. "But did you not," asked they, "say that you knew how to 'treat' a Daimyo?" To this SEIEMON made no reply. The question was put again and again, but he still made no answer. "Your refusal to reply is doubtless a proof that you are guilty," say GOROZAEMON. "I am not guilty of anything wrong," replied SEIEMON. "I simply carried out the orders of my commander-in-chief, and what fault can be found with me for doing this." Here those who were conducting the enquiry said: - "What is the use of your going on in this way? YORIYUKI will not give in, so you had better say that you were in the wrong, whether you think so or not." "No," replied SEIEMON, "such a course would be improper. However low my station and however poor my pay may be, as long as I discharge my duties faithfully there is nothing that I need be ashamed of, and there is no reason why I should fear Lords, or even the Emperor himself. My persistence in saying what is correct, my refusal to acknowledge a fault which I know I have not committed-this conduct I am sure the Shogun would approve of. What reason have you for thinking that I should refuse to acknowledge a fault if I was conscious of having committed one?" Here the examiners asked him what he meant by using the word "treat" in reference to a Daimyo? "I referred to nothing else," he replied, "than the treatment that anyone who entered the Shogun's room would receive at my hands. I intended to cut them in two." This was reported to the Judges, and by them to the Shogun. The Shogun applauded the straightforward honesty and faithfulness of the soldier, and gave him five pieces of silver as a reward for his services on the abovementioned occasion. DIFFERENT STANDARDS LEAD TO DIFFERENT ESTIMATES. IT happened once that one of the attendants of HIDEYOSHI was discussing the comparative merits of TOKUGAWA IEYASU and ODA JOSHIN. "There is nothing that ODA JOSHIN cannot do," said the attendant. "He writes good verses; he understands how to conduct Cha-no-yu parties; he dances well: but as for IEYASU, he has no accomplishments whatever. It would be difficult to find among any ten men who could be named a man so awkward in all polite accomplishments as he. To all appearances he seems to be a man who, with the dress of a knight, has the manners of a rustic." HIDEYOSHI manifested great displeasure as he listened to these remarks, and immediately replied: - "JOSHIN is skilled in what is of little use. In this IEYASU, I grant, is deficient. But what is there to complain of in that? With the most important traits of character he is highly endowed. His shrewdness exceeds that of most men, and his courage is not to be matched either in ancient or modern times. Taken altogether, who is there to compare with him?" The standards of judging employed by the two disputants differed considerably. Hence it was impossible that their opinions should coincide. A DEMON IS TAKEN FOR A DIVINITY AND A DIVINITY FOR A DEMON. IN Daiku-machi, Edo, about a century and a half ago, there lived a man called GENZO, who for about thirty years had been making money by letting houses. He was very strict in collecting his rent, and he refused to let his houses to any person who had no regular occupation. As he seemed to be most exacting and relentless in everything he did, and showed no signs of having any compassion in his nature, the people of those days called him ONI GENZO, or GENZO the Demon. He possessed some fifty or sixty houses. These houses were inhabited by all kinds of tenants, and among them was a man called ICHIBEI, who got his living by selling bamboo pipe tubes. As little money was to be made by this, ICHIBEI frequently went out to do coolie work in different houses. ICHIBEI was originally from Osaka. He lived. some 9 years in GENZO'S house. He was about 56 years of age when what we are about to relate took place. He belonged to the Jodo sect, and, morning, noon, and night, he was most regular at his devotions. When he went out to work he carried his beads, and said his prayers whilst working; and when he went to sell bamboo tubes, he constantly repeated his prayers on the road. Wherever he went he use to exhort the people not to be carried away by an undue regard for riches, and to tell them that they ought to say their prayers and think of the paradise that is beyond. As ICHIBEI was always seen saying his prayers, and as, in all things that he did, he seemed to be so good, people called him HOTOKE ICHIBEI, or ICHIBEI the Divinity; and there was not a person who spoke evil of him in any way. The 10th of October is a festival day with the Jodo sect; and ICHIBEI thought he ought to do what he could in his circumstances to celebrate the occasion by a feast. As he was poor, he could not do anything very great, but he made some mochi cakes and invited all the people who were residing near him to come and partake of the same. They came in large numbers, and he said his prayers before them as usual. After the religious exercises were over, ICHIBEI and the guests, whilst eating the cakes, talked on all kinds of subjects. In the course of conversation a matter came up which interested them all very much. "A few nights ago," said ICHIIBEI, "I had a dream; but not knowing what it meant I took little notice of it. But, to my surprise, three days after, I had another dream, which made me think a good deal." He then proceeded to relate his dream as follows: - "Well, I saw AMIDA NYORAI come to my pillow, and he said, 'I am AMIDA NYORAI, Lord of the Western Paradise. I have come here to save the inhabitants of this part, but owing to there being bad people about and to the frequent occurrence of fires, I have been buried beneath the earth and cannot get out. As you believe in me, do you dig me out and worship me.' Here I asked, 'Will the august NYORAI please to inform me where he has been buried.' 'I am buried,' he replied, 'beneath the hearth of GENZO'S house, and have been longing to come out for a hundred years, so do you hasten to dig me out.' Here I awoke." The people, remembering what a pious man ICHIBEI was, thought it most natural that he should receive a revelation of this kind. So they all went to the house of GENZO and told him what they had heard. "I don't believe a word of it," said GENZO. "It is all stuff. A dream of this kind is not a thing on which we can depend. Some four or five years later on, I may have occasion to have my fire-place dug up, and then we shall see what truth there is in it, but for the present, things must remain as they are." They went to ICHIBEI and told him exactly what had occurred. "Well, never mind," he said, "as NYORAI is a divinity, he will find a way of getting out, so we will let the matter rest as it is." The people, however, now that their curiosity and pious expectations were aroused, were not willing to let the matter drop. Gradually the news of what had happened spread abroad, and another deputation, consisting of a very large number of people, went to GENZO and begged him to allow them to open up his fire hearth, promising to put the place to rights again afterwards. ll. GENZO gave permission and they went and dug around the hearth. At first they did not see anything, but after they had dug down about three feet, they came across a box. When ICHIBEI saw this, he repeated the words Namu-anttda-butsu about ten times, and then had the box opened, and sure enough, inside of it they found an image about five inches high, standing upright. ICIHIBEI wept tears of gratitude; and all the old grandmothers and grandfathers, as well as the other people residing near the place, were overcome with astonishment. They carried the image off to ICHIBEI'S house, and people from the neighborhood came in large numbers to worship it; and as they all brought offerings, the amount of money that passed into ICHIBEI'S hands was something considerable. After this had gone on some five or six days, GENZO sent to ICHIBEI and bade him forward the image to him without delay. ICHIBEI refused; and all the people in the neighborhood said that it was most unreasonable of GENZO to expect such a thing. Here GENZO became very angry, and said: - "If you are not willing to send the image to me, then send it to a temple. You have no business to carry on an affair of this kind in your house. If you refuse to attend to what I say, then you can leave my house." ICHIBEI refused to part with the image. GENZO was not a man to yield in in a matter of this kind. So one day he went to ICHIBEI'S house and carried the image off by force. The people were furious, and said to each other: - "We will go and pull down GENZO'S house about his ears." But one among their number, who was more intelligent than the rest, said: - "No, that will never do. If we do anything of this kind, we shall injure our cause and be defeated; we had better carry the matter into Court. If we do so, GENZO will be sure to get the worst of it, and will give us no more trouble." They all agreed that this was the best course. So they carried the case into Court. This took place A.D. 1721, when O-OKA TADASUKE was the city Bugyo, and before him it was that the parties were arraigned. TADASUKE first enquired of the plaintiffs why they did not carry out the wishes of GENZO and why they thought it necessary to bring the matter into Court. They told him all that had happened, and said that as GENZO had given ICHIBEI notice to quit, they were bound to bring the matter into Court. TADASUKE then asked GENZO why he wished to turn the plaintiffs out of their houses on account of a Buddhist idol having been taken from beneath his hearth in accordance with a revelation received in a dream by ICHIBEI. GENZO replied that he did not mind the neighbors having excavated the image, nor their keeping it; but what he objected to was that one of hi houses should be converted into a temple, and that people should come to it from all quarters. If his house were turned into a temple without the permission of the authorities, he thought he should get into trouble. "Very well. This is all very natural," said TADASUKE. "But supposing all this worshipping of the image in your house is put a stop to, will you still insist on your tenant leaving it?" "Of course not," replied GENZO. "My position as a landlord depends entirely on my getting tenants for my houses, and therefore if my tenants all pursue their several callings and pay their rent, I am not so foolish as to give them notice to quit." "What GENZO says is very reasonable," said TADASUKE, "and therefore, you had better give over quarrelling with each other about this matter." Here the people who lived in the same nagaya as ICHIBEI and the inmates of the neighboring houses interposed: - "This GENZO, according to his name, ONI GENZO, is a most troublesome landlord, turning people out of his houses on the slightest provocation. Whereas ICHIBEI is an extraordinarily good man, whom it is a sin to persecute. We therefore beg that you will not dismiss the case without passing judgment thereon." "As you are so importunate in asking me to pass judgment on the case," replied TADASUKE, "I will do so. But unless I am very much mistaken, you will have cause to be sorry for the course you are now taking." Here ICHIBEI was summoned to appear before TADASUKE in person. Hitherto his case had been conducted by others. Having never appeared before such an important personage before, he seemed to be overawed with the gravity of the occasion, and came into Court repeating over and over again the prayer of his sect, Namu-amida-butsu. TADASUKE asked him where he vas born. ICHIBEI, bowing very low, said; - "I was born in Osaka." "Then," asked TADASUKE, "how many years ago did you come to Edo?" "Twelve years ago," said ICHIBEI. "How long have you lived in GENZO'S house?" "Nine years." "Where did you live before entering GENZO'S house? And what were you employed in? Be careful of what you say-tell me the exact truth about everything." "I resided in Gorobei-cho, Kyobashi," replied ICHIBEI. "In whose house did you live?" "In GOEMON'S." How many years did you live in that house?" "Three." "During that time, how were you employed?" "I was employed by various people in all kinds of work." "Where did you live before that? Now be sure you tell me no lie." Here ICHIIBEI hesitated a good deal, and seemed not to know what to say. TADASUKE urged him to reply at once. " I lived," said he, "in Naga-machi, Osaka." "You scoundrel," exclaimed TADASUKE, "you are telling me lies. I shall have GOEMON called; and I will "send to Osaka to find out the truth of the matter. There is no doubt that you have lived in Edo a long time." III. TADASUKE here addressed GENZO, and asked him whether what ICHIBEI had said was correct. "As regards his moving from Gorobei-cho into my house," said GENZO, "there is no mistake about that. But if report be true, he was in Edo a long time before this occurred." "Well," said TADASUKE, "we will let the matter rest where it is to-day. And do you, GENZO, when you are summoned to the Court next time, bring the idol with you." TADASUKE Commanded that ICHIBEI be hand-cuffed, and allowed to return to his house. The people who lived in the same house with ICHIBEI were astounded at the way in which things had gone. "Doubtless," they said to each other, "GENZO has bribed the Judge, or such a thing never could have taken place. For a divinity to be hand-cuffed, too! nothing so heinous has ever been heard of." After a while, they were all summoned again, and now, in accordance with the orders received, GENZO brought the idol which had been the cause of all the trouble. Previously, TADASUKE had commanded one of the noted idol-makers of the city, SHIINA TOSA, to be present. When the idol arrived, TADASUKE bid TOSA examine it well, to see whether it was made in Edo or Osaka. "This idol," he at once said, "was made in Osaka." "I thought so," remarked TADASUKE. Then, turning to ICHIBEI he asked: - When did you bury this idol in GENZO'S house? Speak nothing but the truth. If you tell me lies, I will have you sent to prison and tortured." ICHIBEI then said, shaking all over: - "I have no recollection of having done this." Here TADASUKE asked GENZO when the house was built. GENZO counted on his fingers up to sixteen, and replied: - "Sixteen years ago, there was a fire which destroyed my house. On that occasion I had it built again." TADASUKE then enquired: - "Do you remember what persons were employed by you on this occasion? Would you know their faces were you to see them again?" "As there were a large number of them," replied, GENZO, "I should not remember them in the least." "Very well. Never mind." Then turning to ICHIBEI, the Judge continued: - "You buried the idol in GENZO'S house at that time, no doubt; and now you have been getting money by pretending that a dream revealed to you the place in which the idol was concealed." ICHIBEI bowed his head very low, and said, he had no recollection of doing such a thing. Here TADASUKE said in a stern voice: - "Bind him." Whereupon ICHIBEI exclaimed: - "I will tell! I will tell!" "Speak nothing but the truth, and speak it at once what has happened, your punishment will be light." "I am a poor man," commenced ICHIBEI, "and though, whilst still in good health, I could always expect to be able to get a living, yet I had to think of the time when I should be too old to work. To make provision for this, I planned the whole of what has happened. I was among the workmen hired by GENZO, and I buried the idol under his health." "Is there no mistake about this?" asked TADASUKE. "None whatever," replied ICHIBEI. Then TADASUKE turned to the people who had urged him to pass judgment on the case, and address them as follows: - "You have mistaken a demon for a divinity. You speak of a man's strictness in collecting his carefulness about the tenants he allows to enter his houses, as though it were something bad. But such is not the case. This is all right proper. If you are diligent in your occupations, careful how you treat your parents, kind to your wives and children, watchful over your own conduct, do not take too much wine, do not quarrel with each other, and pay your rents punctually, there is no landlord existing who will speak evil of you. I hear that GENZO'S houses are never empty. How is it that a man whom you call a demon has his houses continually occupied? Did not people see some good reason for talking his houses in preference to other that are to let, they would not do so. For landlords to look after their business well and obtain a good number of tenants-this is gratifying to those who are over them, namely, the heads of districts; and what gratifies the heads of districts, gratifies O-OKA TADASUKE; and what gratifies O-OKA TADASUKE, gratifies the Emperor; and may we not say, too, that it would gratifies a god. Instead, then, of GENZO as GENZO the Demon, had you not better speak of him as GENZO the Divinity? And as for ICHIBEI, who has made a Buddhist divinity's image the mean of deceiving a large number of people, and of enriching himself into the bargain, has his conduct not been most diabolical? And would it not, therefore, be doing no more than calling things by their proper names if henceforth you were to speak of him as ICHIBEI the Demon? I would advise you in future not to be deceived by outward appearances lest you fall into the error of mistaking a demon for a divinity, and a divinity for a demon." @ A DAUGHTER WHO INHERITED HER FATHER'S COURAGE. Just before the battle of Seki-ga-hara, SANADA AWANOKAMI, his eldest son, ISU-NO-SUKE, after conferring together, decided that they would take different sides in the war then going on between IEYASU and HIDEYORI. They settled that IZU-NO-KAMI should join IEYASU'S army, and AWA-NO-KAMI and SAEMON-NO-SUKE, that of HIDEYORI. After this, AWA-NO-KAMI, before he returned to his native province and commenced to carry out his resolution of acting as his sin's enemy, thought that he should like to go and bid farewell to the wife and children of IZU-NO-KAMI. So AWA-NO-KAMI sent a messenger to his son's castle to inform his daughter-in -law that he was about to pay them a farewell visit the next day on the way to his native province. The wife of IZU-NO-KAMI, on receiving the message of her father-in law, issued the following order in the castle: - "As our lord has set out for the seat of war, and all his brave knights with him, you who are left behind are doubtless feeling very lonely. By the way of cheering you up a little, to-morrow I propose making a feast for you all. I wish you all to come, and please bring your children; my children, as you know, are still young, so they will enjoy a romp with yours." The next day they all assembled in the large hall of the castle and thanked their mistress for her kindness in inviting them. She called a few of her husband's trusty councilors near her, to whom she said: - "Yesterday I received a letter from AWA-NO-KAMI informing me that he and IZU-NO-KAMI have become enemies, and that while bour lord is away, we should be careful to look after the castle, etc.; and that he intends paying us a visit to-day. As AWA-NO-KAMI has now become an enemy of our lord, there is no saying but that he may carry us off as prisoners of war. If this occurs, I and my sons will not be the only ones to suffer: your wives and children, and the families of the man who are gone to the wars will be our fellow captives. Therefore it is that I have invited you all to this entertainment, and take this opportunity of informing you of what is about to take place. Close at once the front and back gates of the castle; get ready your bows and arrows; marshal the man on the walls, and prepare for a siege." Thus saying, she took her halberd in her hand, and with a countenance full of determination and courage such as are generally associated with the exploits of great warriors, she awaited her farther-in-law's approach. AWA-NO-KAMI was utterly astounded at this conduct, and with tears falling from his eyes, he said; - "This is a daughter of HONDA HEIHACHIRO, the retainer of IEYASU. Knights ought to choose ladies of this kind for their wives. Though this treatment is very hard for us to bear, yet, at the same time, if IEYASU gets to hear of it, he will be convinced that my son is earnest in his cause, which will lead him to treat him well. Thus the name of SANADA will become famous; so that it is better that things have fallen out as they have. Had I had an interview with my daughter-in-law and grand-children, it is very probable that it would have aroused the suspicions of IEYASU; as it would have looked as though, whilst professing to be on his side, IZU-NO-KAMI and his retainers were holding conferences with his declared enemy." Thus saying, he took a long look at the castle, and went away deeply affected. People said in reference to what took place: - "The daughter-in-law is a model daughter-in-law, and the father-in-law is a model father-in-law." Meaning by this, that only two such brave and faithful souls could treat each other as these two did. ASSOCIATES AND PROGRESS "I know," said KOSHI one day, "that after I am dead, SHO will make rapid progress, but SHI will go back." "How do you know that"? asked So. KOSHI replied: - "SHO is fond of associating with person who are his superiors in virtue and general attainment; while SHI prefers as his friends those who have not attained to his position. Mixing with good men is like going a scented room and carrying away unconsciously the odor of the place. The man who has been permeated with this odor gets to be unconscious of its existence, so much does it become a part of his very self. If we mix with things that are red we become red; if with those that are black we become black; therefore it is that the superior man is careful in the choice of friends. In an ancient poem it is said: - 'To polish a gem with stones from another mountain.' A gem sparkles and glitters, and is valued more than any other kind of stone. Its immense superiority is recognized when inferior stones are used to polish it, then its excellence and beauty are made thoroughly prominent. The case is similar when a superior man lives in the midst of a large number of inferior persons. From them he receives all kind of opposition, but it is on account of this very opposition that he is able to show his real genius and power. It is owing to this circumstance that the virtuous man obtains the strength which enables him to become an example to other." SUGITA IKI AND HIS LORD. In the Kan-en period (A.D.1624-1643), there was a lord of Echizen called IYO-NO-KAMI who hade a chief retainer called SUGITA IKI. IKI was a man whose origin was low, but who had by application and perseverance risen to be the chief councilor of a great lord. He was most faithful in rebuking his master whenever he thought him in the wrong, and even trifling mistakes were not passed by unnoticed. He was as generous as he was faithful. When his lord had to go to Edo his expenses were very great, but IKI managed to defray them all. At one time IYO-NO-KAMI was very intent on hawking. One morning he went out hawking as usual, and did not return till sunset. When he reached his mansion his retainers all came out to meet him, and congratulated him on his safe return. He was in high spirits, and said to those who came out to meet him: - have been thinking that the men who do so well in hawking would do well in battle. It is a subject for congratulation that we have such young men connected with us. Most of the retainers responded to this sentiment and re-echoed the words of their lord. IKI alone was asked him what he thought about the matter. "Though I am loath to have to say so," replied IKI "I cannot praise your present state of mind, nor can I contemplate with any pleasure the circumstances which have brought it about. On the contrary, I feel that what you have done is a matter to be mourned over. The young men go with you and exert themselves to please you not from love but from fear. Every time they go out with you, they are afraid of being cut down for some trifling mistake they may happen to make, and so they take leave of their parents, and their wives and children as if about to engage in some dangerous enterprise. Is it to be supposed that persons who entertain towards their lord feelings such as your treatment has engendered, will throw away their lives in his defense in a time of war? And, ignorant of all this, for you to be rejoicing over what they have done to day-is not this the very essence of folly?" Here IYO-NO-KAMI'S c64ntenance changed. One oh his armed retainers, who saw the change, said to IKI: - "Get out of this." IKI turned and asked him whether he was among the number of those who thought that faithfulness to their lord consisted in catching small birds with hawks and hunting wild boar in the mountains. "You may think so if you please," said he, "but so thinks not SIGITA IKI." So saying, IKI threw away the sword that he had in his belt, and walking up close to IYO-NO-KAMI, said: - "Please to kill me. My life no longer affords me any pleasure; I have no desire to live to see your house come to ruin. That would be more than I could bear. If I die by your hand, it will be plain to all that I served you faithfully, shrinking not even from administering the reproof which cost me my life. Please kill me," he continued; and as he said it, he bent his head for his lord to cut it off. IYO-NO-KAMI, without opening his lips, went into an adjoining room. Here IKI'S fellow councilors came to him and said: - "You have spoken faithfully to our lord to-day, but did you not choose an unsuitable time for doing it? He came home in such good spirits from hawking, and was it not a pity to mar all his pleasure by such a severe reproof." "Suppose, as you suggest," replied IKI, "that I were only to reprove him when he is in the proper mood for it, then I could not reprove him when he is angry, and I could not reprove him when he is feeling very lively and amiable for fear of putting a damper on his good spirits. When, then, do you think I could reprove him? It would end in my not reproving him at all. I thought to-day was a good day for telling him my mind, and so I did it. My position differs from that of yours. You are men whose ancestors bequeathed to you the rank of councilors. I am, as you know, a man who has risen from low life, and my elevation to the rank of a councilor has been owing to the fact that my master has personally approved of my conduct during a series of years spent in his service. I am bound, therefore, to do my best to fulfill the duties of a councilor. After this he went home to his house and told his wife all that had happened. "And," said he, "there is something that I wish to say to you. Though you do not receive assistance from our lord in the direct way that I do, the fact that you are able to ride about in a palanquin with a number of retainers following you, and that you receive the respect paid to the wife of a councilor, all comes from the kindness of our lord. Supposing, then, that I die in the service of my lord, and that on that account you become poor, it is not my wish that you should bear any malice in your heart against IYO-NO-KAMI. I may, for all I know, get orders to disembowel myself this very night, and therefore it is I speak thus." Late that night, a noise was heard of someone knocking at the door of IKI'S house. It was a messenger from IYO-NO-KAMI. IKI went out and showed the man in. the messenger immediately informed him that IYO-NO-KAMI wished to see him at once. "Ah!," said IKI to him self, "this is just what I expected; I shall now be ordered to commit suicide, doubtless." When he reached the apartments occupied by his lord, he was bidden to go at once into his bed-charmer. On entering the room, he noticed that his lord did not seem to be at all angry. He turned towards IKI, and commenced: - "What you said to me to-night has made such an impression on my mind that I have not been able to sleep; and therefore, though so late, I have called you. I have been in the wrong," he continued, "and am sorry for what I have done. Henceforth I will reform." Here IYO-NO-KAMI gave IKI a sword, as a token of the gratitude he felt for his faithfulness to him. As IKI had expected to be ordered to commit suicide, the opposite treatment which he received overcame him. He burst into tears, and went home with a gland heart, to tell his wife what had happened, carrying the sword which his lord had given him. @ O TAN AND KO JUN. O TAN was prime minister of China in the So period. (TAN d. A.D. 1017) TAN was one of the meekest of men, having never been known to be angry. Even when bad food was placed before him, he quietly refused to eat it without reproving the servants. Seeing this spirit of forbearance in him, some members of his household, who were mischievously inclined, thought they would try how much provocation he would stand. So, one day they put some dust in his soup. He looked at it, took his rice, and left the soup. They asked him why he did not take it. He replied: - "Because I do not care for it to-day." Another day they put some charcoal in his rice. Then he said: - "I do not care for rice to-day, bring some rice gruel." On another occasion one of his household came to him, and said: - "A quantity of your meat is constantly stolen from the kitchen." "How much do you order?" asked TAN. "One pound," was the reply; "but not more than half of it is brought to table." "Then," said he, "order one pound and a half." In domestic matter he invariably acted in this way. When TAN became Prime Minister, JUN was one oh the Privy Councilors. And several times he spoke evil of TAN to different persons. But TAN praised JUN. The Emperor of that time, SHINSO, said to TAN one day, "You often praise JUN, but he speaks evil of you." TAN replied, "That is natural. It could not well be otherwise. I occupy a conspicuous position in the State, and have been in office a long time. Doubtless my faults stand out to view. And as JUN hides nothing from you, he will, of course, tell you all he thinks about me; and amongst other things, he will speak of my faults. He is to be commended for this." It happened once that there was a document bearing on Government business which had to be sent contained some mistake. JUN was delighted to find this out. He mentioned it to the Emperor, and TAN and his subordinate officers were censure. Before a month had elapsed, there was something wrong in a document sent up to the Prime Minister's office from the Sumitsu-in, the Department of which JUN had charge. TAN'S subordinate officers were very pleased to have discovered the mistake, and at once took the document to TAN. TAN sent it back to the Sumitsu-in. JUN was very much abashed by this occurrence. Some little time after this, JUN wished to combine two offices and to hold a military appointment as well as a civil one, instead of the post he had previously held. TAN, when asked to assist in bringing this about, said that he did not think such a thing could be. For this remark TAN was disliked by JUN more than ever. Before very long, however, JUN received the appointment he wished for. He went immediately to the Emperor and thanked him, saying: - "If it had not been for Your Majesty's gracious help, I could never have obtained the position I now hold." The Emperor replied; - "I was not the means of your getting the post, it was TAN who advised it." Here JUN was very much affected and astonished, and acknowledged that TAN was a far superior man to himself. TAN was a statesman who never bore malice in his heart against any one. In domestic matters, his meekness seems to have exceeded what is right or desirable, and to have had in it elements of weakness; but as an officer of Government, his generosity, charity, and magnanimity were elements of great strength, and made him respected and loved by all his subordinates. @ A REMARKABLE CHILD WHO GREW UP TO BE A REMARKABLE MAN l. Some time ago there lived in Reiganjima, Edo, a large rice commission merchant, called MOROSAKI SHOEMON. It happened once that he went to two temples situated in the county of Watarai, Ise, known as the Daijingu. On his way back, he passed through a place called Sayo-no-nakayama, situated in the Totomi district. Here he partook of some of the sweet, mochi which used to be manufactured in that town, and for which the place was noted. Whilst he was eating it, some children came around him, and looked as if they would like to be eating mochi too. So SHOEMON, being a good-natured man, gave them some. Amongst the group of children to whom the mochi was handed, there was one who refused to take any. He separated himself: - Dear me, what a set of children these are, greedily devouring other people's leavings! SHOEMON was struck by the conduct of this lad. "This is no ordinary child," said he to himself. Whilst thinking thus, he observed the boy take a child from his back and place it on the ground, and he noticed that the boy handled the child in a far more careful way than is usual in the case of so young a nurse. SHOEMON thus became still more interested in the lad, and turning to the man who had sold him the mochi, asked him where the boy came from. "He is the son of a farmer who used to live on the other side of the mountain yonder," replied the man. "His father, who is dead, was called KANSUKE. Lately there has been a great dearth of food in this neighborhood, and I have been doing what I can to help the people who are in distress. I have taken this lad with some four or five others into my house. He is very different from most children one meets. He has a habit of putting anything straight that happens to be out of place in the house. This habit was no doubt inherited from his father. He does not care to take any food except at meals, and he is averse to eating other people's leavings. He is quiet and attentive to the business that he has in hand. When he opens his lips, he says something good, and never anything bad." When SHOEMON heard all this, he had a great desire to take the child under his own charge, and he asked the man whether he would not allow the boy to accompany him on his journey. "Nothing could be better," said the man, "if his mother and elder brother will give their consent. I will consult them at once." So saying, he started off for their house, and, on reaching it, told them all that had occurred. They were, under the circumstances, delighted with the proposal, and accompanying the vendor of the mochi to the place where SHOEMON was waiting, they begged the latter to be kind enough to take charge of the child. SHOEMON took the child, and as he had picked him up at Nakayama, he changed his name to NAKAKICHI, and, carried him off to Edo. The lad remained in his service ten years, and during that, time acted in a most faithful and unselfish way. Whenever he saw anything that seemed wrong in his master's conduct, he reproved it. This happened very frequently. But, as the saying is, "Faithful words offend the ears;" so, after a while, this constant reproof became distasteful to SHOEMON, and he made up his mind that he would not put up with it any longer. He dismissed NAKAKICHI from his service. At the age of twenty, then, NAKAKICHI was thrown on his own resources. He went to the house of a friend, where he stayed for some little time, previous to commencing to earn a living for himself. Whenever money is plentiful, there is a tendency to live luxuriously and extravagantly. So, though SHOEMON originally intended to live economically, gradually he went to one expense after another. He laid out beautiful gardens; he built nice houses for his concubines; he erected places in which to hold Cha-no-yu parties, and he prepared pieces of ground on which to play foot-ball. By degrees, too, he neglected to pay attention to the affairs of his household, and treated all his servants with indifference. This conduct had the effect of making them careless about their master's interests and scrupulous about their own. They took every opportunity of robbing him, till, by and by, his property was all dissipated, and having no one on whom he could depend, he drifted into bankruptcy. Under these circumstances, he was no longer able to remain in Edo. So he went to a place called Sakasai, where, in a retired spot, he lived alone for three years on a little money which he had realized by selling a few things that had been rescued from his creditors. But gradually he spent all the money he had, and though his house was out of repair, he had not the wherewithal to put it to rights. Privation, to one who had lived so luxuriously, brought on sickness, which got worse and worse, till he lay seemingly at the point of death. Though things had reached this crisis, being a perfect stranger to the villagers, no one offered him any assistance. II. In the meanwhile, NAKAKICHI, who had been getting his living by acting as a shampooer, had heard in Edo of the fate of his late master, and considering how long he had been in his service, he thought it was his duty to go to Sakasai and seek him out. This he did; and when he saw how sick SHOEMON was, he asked to be allowed to enter his service again. SHOEMON was, of course, very glad to have him. So NAKAKICHI commenced to nurse him with the greatest care. But as money was required, he had to work as well as to nurse. During the day he sold vegetables, and at night he shampooed, and so obtained sufficient money to purchase both medicine and food for his master. No one could have been more attentive to a sick person than he was. In summer he cooled his patient's pillow; in winter he used all manner of devices for keeping him warm. Whilst he eat bad food himself, he was careful to provide the most nourishing things for the sick man. As a result of this care, SHOEMON got so much better that he was able to move about again, NAKAKICHI seeing this, one day took five ryo out of his purse, and handing them to SHOEMON, said: -"As I have a matter in contemplation that needs my attention elsewhere, I beg that you will kindly permit me to be absent from you for a short time. With these five ryo, you will be able to maintain yourself till I return." SHOEMON objected to take the money. "You will need this on your journey," said he, "so you had better keep it." "No," replied NAKAKICHI, "I can manage very well to get money enough to keep me on the journey by shampooing." Thus saying, he took his departure. He went first to his native place, and visiting a temple, of which "Ko-sodate-Kwan-on" (Child-Nurturing-Goddess-of-Mercy) was the Patron-divinity, he solemnly vowed to himself that he would restore SHOEMON to the state of prosperity from which he had fallen. On this occasion he wrote the following verse and placed it in a conspicuous part of the temple: - "Until I have made myself a name, "Ne'er will I visit these my native hauntts again. "Rather than not come a victor from the strife, "In other than my native place will I lay down my life." From Sayo-no-nakayama he went on to Osaka, and these found two men who had been formerly acting as chief managers of SHOEMON'S business. They were driving a prosperous trade. But having made money by robbing SHOEMON, they were not inclined to help him out of his troubles. So, failing to get assistance here, NAKAKCHI wandered about in that part of the town called Dojima, making money by shampooing, in the hopes of meeting some one who would patronize him, and assist him to carry out the great purpose of his life. After a while, a rice merchant of the neighborhood, seeing how intelligent he was, took him into his employ. After working for him a short time, NAKAKICHI related to him the whole history of his life, and informed him of what he contemplated doing. The merchant was pleased with the idea, and thinking that SHOEMON'S wide experience in the rice trade would qualify him to be of great use in the business, consented to NAKAKICHI'S proposal to summon him to Osaka. So NAKAKICHI set out for the residence of SHOEMON, and brought him without delay to Osaka, and maintained him there for some time. By degrees, SHOEMON regained his old business habits, and, in company with the rich merchant who had patronized him, succeeded in making a second small fortune. The two merchants thought they should like to commemorate the services which NAKAKICHI had rendered them both, so they adopted as a sign of their business house a square mark with the first part of NAKAKICHI'S name in the middle of it, thus ; which sign is still used by certain business houses of Osaka. NAKAKICHI married SHOEMON'S only daughter, and his name was changed to SHOBEI. THE TABLES TURNED, AND WHAT TURNED THEM. DURING the Shunju period, in China, KORO, King of Go, was at war with the people of Etsu, and lost his life in battle. His son FUSA succeeded to the throne, and determined that he would revenge his father's death. Knowing what an arduous task he had set himself to perform, to harden himself, and prepare his body to endure all the privations of war, he practiced all kinds of austerities, one of which was sleeping on five-wood at night. He commanded al1 persons who passed in and out of his palace to ask him whether he had forgotten that the Etsu people had killed his father. In the year B.C. 494, FUSA fought with the Etsu army, and defeated it. He took KOSEN, the King of Etsu, with his whole family, captive, and shut them up in prison. Having accomplished his purpose, he gradually grew careless, and was so far off his guard as to accept a bribe offered by the people of Etsu, in consideration of which, their King was to be allowed to return to his country. No sooner did KOSEN, the King of Etsu, get back to his native land, than he set his mind on avenging himself on his enemies and punishing FUSA for all the indignities which he had suffered at his hands. To prepare himself for this, he underwent severe training, practicing the same kind of austerities as those to which FUSA had resorted. When he was sleepy, he used pepper to keep himself awake. When his feet were cold, he would put them in cold water to make them colder. He did everything that he could think of that was unpleasant and distasteful to him. In the winter, he used ice; in the summer, fire. He took the liver of an animal and constantly licked it, in order that its bitterness might remind him of his distressed state. Many of his nights he spent in lamentation. For ten long years he carefully drilled and exercised his troops; at the end of which time he marched out against Go. The Go army was not in a condition to compete with troops who had been so carefully trained. It was defeated, and FUSA was taken prisoner. He pleaded for his life, urging that KOSEN'S life had been spared by him when he was a prisoner in Go. But HAN REI, the Prime Minister of Etsu, advised the King not to spare FUSA. So, what had been predicted by Go SHISHO, the faithful adviser of FUSA, came to pass. In allowing KOSEN to escape when he had him in his Power, FUSA was imperiling his own life. When, shortly afterwards, FUSA was executed, he covered his face and said: - "I am ashamed to go to the land of shades and meet the man whose advice I spurned." It was SHISHO to whom he referred, who had previously died by his own hand, in obedience to orders received from FUSA. The history of these two men shows that, when a man has only one main purpose in life, and that purpose is accomplished, he is in great danger of losing by subsequent neglect all that his early diligence and carefulness obtained for him. Men's fortunes depend very much on their state of mind. There are exceptions; but in the main, lasting success is the reward of unabated and unwearying application. Had FUSA retained the state of mind in which he was when he went out to fight with KOSEN, it is not at all likely that he would have been defeated subsequently. The two men's minds were exchanged first and their fortunes afterwards. CONSCIOUSNESS OF IGNORANCE IS KNOWLEDGE. IN the twelfth century, there lived in Japan a noted man, called FUJIWARA ATSUCHIKA. He had the reputation of being a very learned man, but when people asked him anything, he constantly said he did not know. There was a priest called FUJIWARA SHINZEI who, on one occasion, when in conversation with a certain person, happened to remark that ATSUCHIKA was a great scholar. The said person replied, that a man who, whenever asked a question, said he did not know, could not be a very learned man. "You are wrong," said SHINZEI. "For a fool to look as though he knew everything, is something that we see every day; and the reason of his assuming a knowing air is, that he thinks that, if he were to appear as though he did not know, it would be a disgrace to him. Anyone who is conscious of possessing intelligence, is not ashamed to say that he does not know a thing. When talking on learned subjects, for a person to make it appear as though he knows everything, is the height of absurdity. To distinguish between important and unimportant things, is the office of the scholar. If he can do this, then, though he professes ignorance of any one detail of knowledge, he has nothing of which to be ashamed." These words are true. As there is no limit to the amount of knowledge to be acquired on any one subject that can be named, it is impossible for a man to know everything. The more he knows, the more he finds out how much there is to be known. So that men who appear as though they knew everything, being ignorant of the vast amount of knowledge yet to be acquired by them, may be pronounced to be the least learned of all persons. Consciousness of ignorance, then, is knowledge. THE CAPTUPE OF A ROBBER. I. SOME time ago, in Takasaki, Kotsuke, there dwelt a man called-KAKUBEI, who was the head of a gang of thieves. One night, KAKUBEI went to a rich house in the town, and was in the act of digging a hole through the plaster wall, whereby to enter the building, when the master of the house awoke, and, taking a spear which had been placed by his bedside against an emergency, thrust it through the plaster where he heard the noise. The spear pierced KAKUBEI'S thigh. But he being a desperate fellow, did not seem at all concerned, and simply said in his ordinary voice:-"That was a near escape." The master of the house heard this remark, and thinking that the spear had missed its aim, pulled it back. Before he did this, however, KAKUBEI had wiped the spear's point with his clothes, so that no one should know that it had wounded him. The master of the house thrust the spear through again, but the robber had absconded. He fled to Ikao, where he had his wound attended to. Though he endeavored to conceal himself in Ikao, by degrees it oozed out that he was a robber. This was reported to the authorities, and they were urged to take some steps to capture him. "If he is not captured," said the people of Ikao, "the whole country will suffer in consequence." The authorities sent some seven or eight constables to apprehend KAKUBEI; but he was too strong and too crafty for them; all their efforts to arrest him proved fruitless. While they were wasting time in considering what to do, KAKUBEI was busy carrying on his robberies. He entered store-houses and dwelling-houses night after night; and one night he actually dared to enter the Commissariat Department store-house which was attached to a government office and to carry off a quantity of rice. The authorities, hearing of this, were determined to arrest KAKUBEI somehow or other. And as they could not do it openly, they thought it best to resort to stratagem. KOHANAWA JIBUEMON, at this time the Bugyo of Takasaki, was a friend of KAKUBEI'S previous to the latter's becoming a robber. The authorities therefore, requested, JIBUEMON to render them some assistance in the matter. Though loath to betray an old friend, as an officer of government, he felt he could not well refuse to comply with their request. JIBUEMON heard that KAKUBEI was in the village of Kaneko. So, with ten men, he set out for the house in which it was reported that the robber was staying. When he reached the house, JIBUEMON told the men to conceal themselves near, and to be careful not to make a noise of any kind, lest their presence should be id he discovered. "Do nothing," said, orders from me." JIBUEMON took a long dagger, a bird-net and a bamboo arrow shooter, and with one attendant, entered KAKUBEI'S house. KAKUBEI, looking very fiercely at him, asked: - "Why have you come to me dressed in this extraordinary fashion?" JIBUEMON, without waiting to reply, passed into the house, and, sitting down on the mats, unceremoniously thrust his legs out in front of him, and in a careless manner, said: "I and my servant have been out in search of birds, but have not succeeded in getting anything, and, having had nothing to eat for a long time, we are very hungry, and so have come here to ask whether you will not be so good as to give us something to eat." "If that is what you have come for," replied the robber, "then we will do our best to supply your wants, though we have nothing very choice to offer you." KAKUBEI set to work, and, with his servants, cooked some of the best food he could procure. While this was going on, JIBUEMON went to one of the front rooms, and, taking off his coat, stretched himself out on the mats, as if overcome with fatigue, and commenced to snore loudly, as though in a sound sleep. ll. When the meal was ready, KAKUBEI came and awaking JIBUEM0N, set the food before him. After JIBUEM0N had finished his repast, he and KAKUBEI commenced to talk on a variety of subjects. They conversed about the days that were past, when they used to be friendly with each other. In the course of conversation, JIBUEMON said to KAKUBEI: - "Ah! you remember you taught me how to bind a man with ropes so that he should not get away. Well, I have forgotten how it was done. Whenever I have tied any one up, he has invariably got loose again. Will you not give me another lesson in binding?" Here JIBUEMON took a rope out of his pocket, and, handing it to the robber, said: - "Now do you bind me with this rope, and see whether I can get away, that I may know how it is done." "It is not allowable," replied KAKUBEI, "to bind a samurai, though it be in fun, and still less one who holds the office of Bugyo, as you do, therefore I beg you will not make such a request of me." "As it is for the purpose of learning how to do a thing," replied JIBUEMON, "it makes no matter So, come, tie me up. "Whatever you like to say," replied KAKUBEI, "I object to do this, and beg you will not press the matter." "Then," said JIBUEMON, "if you will not bind me, will you consent to be bound by me? And will you tell me how to put on the rope?" KAKUBEI, without the slightest suspicion, agreed to this. So JIBUEMON commenced, and, at first, he purposely put the rope around KAKUBEI'S limbs very loosely. Here KAKUBEI, laughing, exclaimed: - "You must bind me tighter than that. No wonder people get free, if that is the way you bind them." Whereupon he made him tighten every part of the rope as he went on. When he had finished binding him, JIBUEMON asked: "Is there any chance of getting free when bound in this way?" Here KAKUBEI tried in several ways to get free, but did not succeed. When he had finished trying, he said: - "Bound in this way, it is impossible to get free." No sooner had he said this, than JIBUEMON gave the watchword, and the men who were waiting outside, all came in and seized KAKUBEI. When the robber saw how things were going, he said: - "I always thought you to be a very clever man, JIBUEMON, and now I have had practical proof of the same. But my being captured while unsuspicious in this way is very hard." KAKUBEI struggled a good deal, but the men held him fast, and he was conveyed to prison. When placed on trial, KAKUBEI refused to tell who his accomplices were. "It is I alone," said he, "who have been killing people and breaking into houses." Though subjected to torture, he still refused to divulge anything. So, there being no hope of getting any information from him, he was beheaded. JIBUEMON used to tell this tale with tears in his eyes. "KAKUBEI," he would say, "was a wonderful man ; and the part I acted in bringing about his arrest was to me a most painful one." It is a recognized duty of all citizens to give information, and, if necessary, other kinds of assistance to the authorities when they are endeavoring to bring criminals to justice. Much more is it the duty of persons who are government officials to do this. JIBUEMON, when applied to, then, could not well refuse to do his best to bring about the arrest of KAKUBEI. At the same time, the course he took, looked at from a moral standpoint, was very objectionable. He uttered and acted lies. He made use of the kindly feeling towards him which still existed in the robber's heart as an instrument wherewith to secure an old comrade's destruction. And thus, he betrayed the trust, and made use of the civilities and hospitality of one who still looked upon him as a friend, as a means of taking away his life. Granted that, occupying the position he did, it was his duty to assist in the robber's arrest, there were many ways of giving this assistance without having recourse to the means he employed. It is a recognized rule of morality, that "The end does not justify the means." KO IN AND HIS ROYAL PUPIL. IN the time of SAI KO and KO IN, TAIBU occupied the throne of GI, in China. The Emperor's son was one of IN's pupils. It happened that KO and IN were appointed to write the history of the GI period. In composing this history, they did not do what was so usual in those days, namely, choose out those events, the occurrence of which was creditable to their fellow countrymen and brother officers, and suppress everything besides. They gave a faithful account of every event of importance which had occurred, whether good or bad. They brought the history down to their own time, too, and did not scruple even to hold up to public gaze the perfidy and dishonesty of some of the men who were still in office when they wrote. As may be imagined, their history gave the greatest offence. KO was arrested, and put to death [A.D. 450]. And the authorities were about to arrest IN, when the son of the Emperor interposed and put a stop to it. The Emperor's son went to IN and said: - "I will plead with the Emperor on your behalf. And in order that I may be successful, when the Emperor calls you into his presence, do you show that you agree with all I have said to him about you." So, IN'S pupil went to his father, and said: - "IN is accused of having, in conjunction with KO, written the history which has given so much offence. But he is a man who is most careful as to what he does, and not being a person of high rank, it is not to be supposed for a moment that he would take the lead in a matter of this kind. It was doubtless KO who was responsible for the work. I beg, therefore, that you will spare IN'S life." Soon after this IN was summoned into the Emperor's presence. The Emperor asked him whether it was KO who compiled the history which had appeared. "It was KO and I who compiled it," replied IN. "But, to speak correctly, KO only superintended the work. "I am responsible for the contents of the book." Here the Emperor grew very angry. "Your crime," said he, "is greater than that of KO ; how is it possible that you can be allowed to live?" Thereupon the son interposed: - "Excuse me for interrupting you; but, as IN is a man of low rank, and not accustomed to open his lips in the presence of Royalty, I fear your August Majesty may have overpowered him and caused him to lose his head, and hence it is that he speaks as he does. When I went quietly to him, and asked him about this matter, he said that it was KO who wrote the book." Here the Emperor turned to IN, and asked: - Was it, as my son says, KO who wrote the book?" "No;" replied IN, "it was I. And that in doing it. I have done something which you consider to be a crime worthy of death, I cannot deny. Your son, having been my pupil for some time, naturally feels anxious to save my life, and therefore it is that he has pleaded to you on my behalf. He asked me no such questions as those to which you refer. And I uttered no such words as those he represents me to have done. My mind is not overpowered by your Majesty's presence; and I know perfectly well what I am saying." "What honesty!" exclaimed the Emperor. "As this is a case, in which the path of duty involves that which is most repugnant to natural feeling, the path is hard to follow. But IN has accomplished it. To speak the truth even in the face of death-this is truthfulness of the highest kind. To become a servant, and yet not to act deceitfully to those whom we serve-this is spotless purity. Here the Emperor commanded that what had occurred should be made public, and that the honesty and truthfulness of IN should be held up as an example to high and low, rich and poor throughout the empire. TAIBU'S son, however, was angry with IN for what he had done, and one day he went to reprove him for his conduct. "When I was doing my best to save you from death, why did you not act as I wished?" asked the pupil. "Because," replied IN, "my conduct in writing the history did not differ in any way from that of KO. What was done, we did together. Together, then, we ought to share life or death, honor or disgrace. Your desire to save my life, was something for which I am very thankful. But at the same time, to act contrary to my convictions for the sake of saving my life, -this was something which I could not do." The Emperor's son was impressed by these remarks, and felt that his teacher's conscientiousness was worthy of the highest respect. His countenance changed. To the knitted brow, flushed cheek, and fiery eyes of an angry man, there succeeded the calm, overawed features of one who feels that he is in the presence of a man, who is not only his superior, but so high in rank above him as to be living in another world of moral thought and feeling from that which he occupies. A FIEND IN HUMAN FORM. DURING the disturbances and civil wars of the middle ages, there were in Japan people who ignored all the relationships of life, and even some who acted more like devils than human beings. The following tale may be taken as an illustration of the kind of things that used to occur in those days. In the Eiroku era [A.D. 1558-1569], RYUZOJI TAKANOBU was the most noted general of whom Kyushu could boast. He gave his daughter in marriage to ODA SHIGEMITSU, of Hasuike, Hizen. But, subsequent to the marriage, TAKANOBU and SHIGEIMITSU quarreled and became bitter enemies. After this had continued for some time, TAKANOBU determined to destroy his enemy in some way or other, So he feigned to be sick, and for days together did not eat anything in public. Then, through the assistance of the doctor and one of his chief retainers, he procured some red fluid, which he secretly drank, and pretended to be spitting blood all day long. He allowed time for the report of this to reach the ears of all his friends and relations, and then sent for his daughter to come and pay him a farewell visit. When his daughter arrived, TAKANOBU said that, as she saw, his sickness was so bad that he could not expect to recover. In fact, he was so ill that he had no inclination to drink another drop of water or eat another grain of rice. Then, putting on a doleful voice, he exclaimed: - "Alas! alas! the doctor has done all he can, but it is no use. This is the last day you will have me with you. As regards your husband," he continued, "I know that he is at enmity with me, but where things have reached such a pass as this, his not coming to enquire after me is absolutely cruel." Here he seemed half sorry for the cause of the enmity that existed between him and his son-in-law and half angry that he was treated as he was. His daughter was affected by his remarks, and wrote a letter to her husband, telling him how things stood, and urging him to come and pay a farewell visit to her father. SHIGEMITSU opened the letter. His heart was moved by its contents, and he determined to forgive all the past and to go and see his dying rather-in-law. On his arrival at the house, he was shown into TAKANOBU'S room. TAKANOBU appeared delighted to see him. "This is my last day on earth;" said he, "and I must ask you to be kind enough to look after my children when I am gone. In connection with this, there is something special that I wish to say to you, so please come over close to me and put your head down that I may whisper it in your ears." SHIGEMITSU, without the slightest suspicion, and without his sword, did as he was requested-he knelt down and leant his head over close to his father-in-law's face. TAKANOBU now threw aside the bed-clothes, and in an instant, before SHIGEMITSU had time to move, thrust a sword, which he had in his hand, concealed beneath the clothes, into his enemy's throat and killed him on the spot. Then he turned to his attendants, and said: - "The wish that I have cherished for years has now been gratified." The narrator of this tale speaks of the author of the villanous deed just described as one who, though possessing the face of a human being, had the heart of a brute. But we think that such base treachery would never be perpetrated by a brute, and therefore its author is more correctly described when we call him "A Fiend In Human Form." For what more fiendish can be imagined than the manner in which TAKANOBU worked on the noble and generous feelings of his foe with a view to compass his destruction. SINGLE ACTS AND GENERAL CHARACTER. WHEN KOSHI'S grandson, SHISHI, was residing in Ei, on one occasion he ventured to suggest to the Baron whom he served, that it would be well to make KO HEN a general. The Baron replied: - "No: when, formerly, HEN was a government official, he commanded one of his subordinates to take two eggs from a certain house without paying for the same. I do not think, therefore, that it would be wise of me to make such a man a general." SHISHI replied: - "A wise man in his employment of others is like a carpenter using timber. The carpenter takes what is suitable for building, and leaves the rest; and supposing a tree is good and suitable on the whole, a wise carpenter will not reject it on account of some parts of it having been eaten by insects. Now, if on account of a man's having taken two eggs which did not belong to him in a time of war and disturbance, when everything was upside down, you refuse to make him a general, will not your want of judgment betalked about to your chagrin in the neighboring provinces?" Men are not to be judged of by single acts, committed under peculiar circumstances, but by their general character, which manifests itself in everyday life, "The wisest men," as the saying goes, "among a thousand acts commit one foolish one." This act of KO HEN'S was, in SHISHI'S opinion, isolated from the rest of his life, and therefore he maintained that it was not fair to judge him by it. A RELIGIOUS DISCUSSION AND HOW IT WAS SETTLED. IN the time of TOKUGAWA IEYASU, there was a dispute between the two Buddhist Sects known as the Jodo and the Hokke. The disputants were directed to state their cases before IEYASU and await his decision on the matter at issue. As is usual where religion is concerned, people were very much excited over the affair, and the adherents of each of the sects felt confident that their side was going to win. The day before the public trial came on, IEYASU called the head priest of the Hokke Sect, and had a private conversation with him. He addressed him as follows: - "To-morrow your dispute with the Jodo Sect is to be brought up for judgment before me. Now, if you get the victory over your opponents, it will be a very good thing; but what I want to know is, supposing that the case is settled in your favor, how would you wish your antagonists to be treated? " "As you say, to-morrow this religious discussion will be brought before your Honor," replied the priest. "I have no doubt that the Sect to which I belong will get the victory. In that case, in order to avoid all further discussion and trouble, the best course to take would be to chop off the heads of all the priests of the Jodo Sect. Whether looked at from our point of view or from yours, this would prove the most effectual way of preventing all future wrangling on the subject under discussion." "Very well" said IEYASU, "then come early to Court to-morrow'." IEYASU now sent for the head priest of the Jodo Sect, and put the same question to him which had been put to the priest of the Hokke Sect. "In case we get the victory," replied the priest, "in my opinion we should let the matter drop, and not persecute our opponents in any way. For we must not overlook the fact that, though in some minor matters. we differ from each other, we and the adherents of the Hokke Sect are alike professors of the same religion." IEYASU, instead of being pleased, was annoyed by this reply. Turning to the priest, he said: - "Seeing that I take the trouble to inquire into your disputes, instead of beating about the bush in this way, why do you not at once tell me your real mind?" The attendants on IEYASU, seeing how vexed he was by what was taking place, begged the priest not to persist in annoying the Shogun by withholding from him the real truth. Thus pressed, the priest replied: - "As the course they have taken has brought reproach on our cause, in case the Hokke Sect are defeated, what I would recommend is, that the leading disputants among them should be degraded from office and their priests' dress taken away." IEYASU, when he heard this, was pleased, and after entertaining the priest at dinner, dismissed him. When the priest had gone, the Shogun, turning to his retainers, said: - Now, let us hear what you all think about the trial to-morrow. Who is going to get the best of the discussion?" "We have not the least idea;" they all replied. "The Jodo Sect will get the victory," said he; "and I will tell you why. I had a conference with the head priest of the Hokke Sect to-day, and he said that, in case his Sect got the victory, they would ask permission to chop off the heads of their opponents. This proves conclusively that they are actuated by a malicious spirit in their contest with the Jodo Sect, which is quite enough to condemn them. The request of the Jodo priest "continued IEYASU "that the priests of the opposing Sect should be degraded from office, is just the kind of request that one expects from a priest, and, even if granted, would affect no one but the priests themselves. The Jodo Sect is, then, decidedly the most rational of the two." The next day it turned out as IEYASU had predicted, and the Jodo Sect got the better of the discussion. When matters had quieted down a little, IEYASU issued a command, forbidding all such disputes on religious matters as that which had occurred. HO KOJU REFUSES TO EMPLOY HIS PEN IN FURTHERING AN UNRIGHTEOUS CAUSE. IN the Min period, Ho KOJU, a noted scholar, acted as tutor to the Emperor IMBUN. While he was occupying this post, IMBUN'S uncle, TEI, rebelled against him and came in force to attack the capital. When TEI was drawing near the castle in which IMBUN had fortified himself, some of IEBUN'S counselors suggested, that he should try and make his escape to some place near, and thus give time to the Royalists to assemble in force. Koju, however, advised him differently. He urged him to defend himself in the castle. "It is useless, said he, "trying to escape at such a time as this. If we can succeed in defending the castle for a little while, we shall give time for the arrival of a relieving force from some quarter or other. If we fail in this, why-then we will die in our country's cause." The enemy advanced to the attack, and took the castle. But before they could capture IMBUN, he set fire to the castle and perished in the flames. KOJU was taken prisoner. TEI made himself Emperor, and took the name of SEISO. When about to issue his commands, he thought to employ KOJU to write them; and for this purpose had him called. Seeing that KOJU was very much distressed, TEI said: - "Teacher, you need not distress yourself so much. I am like the Sage SHUKO, who assisted his nephew SEIO." "Then if it be so," replied KOJU "where is the nephew that you are going to assist?" "He has burnt himself," said TEI. "Then why do you not assist his son by making him Emperor?" asked KOJU. "He is only a child, and it does not answer to have a child for an Emperor," answered TEI. "In that case," continued KOJU, "there is his younger brother: why do you not make him Emperor?" "This is an affair of my own, and does not concern you," replied TEI. TEI now ordered his attendants to bring writing materials; and when they had arrived, he addressed KOJU thus: - "In issuing commands to the whole of my dominion, it will not do to have them written by anyone but yourself." Here a pen was handed to KOJU. KOJU threw the pen from him, and in the deepest distress and anger said; - "If I am to die, I will@die: - but write commands for a rebel king-never!" TEI, enraged by this remark, commanded that KOJU should be crucified. Just before his death KOJU composed the following lines: - "Heaven has sent confusion on us. "Who knows for what cause? "Wicked servants have obtained their desires. "To further their plans, they thought to make use of a superior man. "The faithful servant is angry at the attempt. "And shedding tears in abundance, follows his master to the grave. "Alas! There is no longer anything to live for. "And so he hopes that no one will complain of what he does." KOJU'S refusal to employ his pen to further an unrighteous cause is well worthy of admiration. Some men's pens are to be bought with money or with rank. And many men who write for a living are not at all particular whether they write to further a good cause or to promote a bad one. HO KOJU was put to death A.D. 1402. THE MISFORTUNES OF A SMALL SHOPKEEPER AND HOW THEY ENDED. I. EARLY in the last century, near Temma-bashi, Osaka, there lived a man called-YOICHI. When he was young, he gave himself out to be an Otokodate; and hence had the reputation of being both chivalrous and benevolent. In reality, however, he was neither the one nor the other. He kept bad company, and spent his time and money in drinking and gambling. After a while he was banished on account of having killed someone in a quarrel. When allowed, subsequently, to return to his native place, he commenced to live an irregular life again, which led to his becoming a pirate. In a scuffle on some ship, he received a very bad wound, which took a long time to heal. When it got well, he altered his appearance, and thought that no one would know who he was. He pretended to be a sailor, but carried on robbery all the while. At this time there was in Dojima, Osaka, a man called - HIKOBEI, who kept a shop in which articles for women's toilet such as mirrors, combs, tooth-brushes, rouge and powder &c. were sold. Among his assistants there was a man called - YASHICHI, who was the nephew of YOICHI. This YASHICHI had obtained employment in the shop through YOICHI'S becoming surety for him. When, therefore, YASHICHI stole some money and ran away, HIKOBEI applied to YOICHI for the money which had been stolen. But YOICHI obstinately refused to do anything in the matter. This led, in a way that it does not concern us to relate, to the death of both YASHICHI and YOICHI. HIKOBEI, owing to his various reverses, got into low water, and had to close his shop and set out for Edo. His wife and two children, one aged nine and the other twelve, were left behind in a small house that he had hired for them. It was in the year A.D. 1718 that he reached Edo, when O-OKA TADASUKE ECHIZEN-No-KAMI was Bugyo of the city. HIKOBEI settled in a back alley of Hashimoto-cho, and got a living by carrying about various articles of women's toilet for sale. Being an Osaka man, and hence very careful as to how he used his money, as well as diligent in his business, he gradually made a nice little sum, and was able to remit to his family in Osaka from time to time. He determined that when he had saved about one hundred ryo, he would go back to Osaka again. After he had been in Edo about five years, he was going his rounds with his wares one morning, when suddenly a heavy thunder-shower came on. He took refuge under the eaves of a house in Bakuro-cho. While he was standing there a woman, who by her looks was about sixty years of age, came out of the house and said: - "You will get wet there, you had better come in." HIKOBEI, thanking, her, entered the house, and after some conversation, he sold her some things; and she seemed to take a lively interest in his affairs. Subsequent to this, whenever HIKOBEI had a little leisure, he visited the old woman, and gradually they got to be so friendly that she told him everything that concerned her. It seemed that she had formerly served Baron STAKE, and had received from him sufficient money to keep her for life. She had a nephew called-ICHlROZAEMON, who kept a hotel in Bakuro-cho. Her reason for not living with this nephew was, that there was too much noise and bustle in the house to suit her. HIK0BEI, by means of the old woman, obtained access to this hotel and often sold articles to the guests. His familiarity with the landlord gradually led to his borrowing money from him. He often borrowed some twenty or thirty ryo at a time, but he invariably returned the same, and so ICHIROZAEMON came to think he was a man to be trusted, and never refused to accommodate him with what he required. ICHIROZAEMON'S aunt had an equally high opinion of HIKOBEI'S honesty, and was ready to do anything for him. One morning HIKOBEI came to the old woman and told her that there was a valuable article of toilet ware for sale, for which others had been bidding ninety ryo, but which he thought worth a hundred. "In fact, I have bid that amount for it," said he, "and they have agreed to let me have it. I have paid down ten ryo of this sum, with the promise of paying the remainder in a day or two. Could you," he asked, "lend me this sum?" "I have," replied the old woman, "a hundred ryo by me, but this I have decided to present to the priest of my temple. I have, however," she continued, "some valuable articles in my possession, which you are at liberty to use as a security, if you wish. By this means you can easily borrow ninety ryo." II, HIKOBEI received the articles, and asked the landlord of his house,-HACHIEMON, to borrow the money for him. The landlord only succeeded, however, in getting fifty ryo, which he handed to HIKOBEI that same evening. "The remaining forty," thought HIKBEI, "I can easily get. So to-morrow the article will be in my possession." The same night it happened that ICHIROZAEMON had a great many guests at his hotel, and, as he was very busy he sent over to his aunt's house to borrow her maid-servant. It was very late when the servant girl had finished her duties at the hotel, so she did not go back to her mistress till the next morning. When she reached the house, she was surprised to find that the old woman was not up, the more so, as it was a habit with her to rise very early. The doors were all closed and barred. Thinking something as the matter, she forced open one of the doors, and found the old woman lying dead in a pool of blood. She had evidently been murdered during the night. The neighbors were called in, and ICHIROZAEMON was sent for. ICHIROZAEMON searched the house to see if there was not something gone, and he found that the basket in which the old woman kept her valuables was missing. He asked the servant whether anyone had come to the house the night before. He was informed that HIKOBEI had come to borrow money; that the things in the basket had been given to him as security wherewith to obtain the same, and that he had been informed that she had one hundred ryo in her possession which she could not lend. They now looked for the money, but it was nowhere to be found. ICHIROZAEMON asked whether any one but HIKOBEI had entered the house during the preceding day; and whether there was any one who knew of the existence of this money in the house but HIKOBEI. And being answered in the negative, "then there is no doubt," said he, "that HIKOBEI is the culprit." The murder was reported to the authorities, and HIKOBEI was arrested on suspicion. HIKOBEI denied having stolen the money or murdered the old woman. He confessed that he knew of the existence of the hundred ryo, and acknowledged that he had borrowed money on the security furnished by the old woman. TADASUKE was not of opinion that HIKOBEI was guilty, but as no satisfactory evidence was forthcoming, in accordance with the custom of those days, he ordered him to be tortured. When HIK0BEI found it hard to bear the pain which he was forced to undergo any longer, he confessed to having murdered the old woman and stolen her money, though conscious all the while that he had not been guilty of either of these crimes. He actually went as far as to fix his seal to a document which declared his guilt. As the crime which he confessed to having committed was a very heinous one, he was condemned to be beheaded, to have the skin of his head removed, and to have the head exposed to public view. In Fukui-cho, Asakusa, there lived two palanquinbearers called-GONZO and-SUZKEJU. These two men were very poor, but at the same time very honest. The night of the murder they came home from Azabu very late. When they reached Fukui-cho, and were about to enter their house, they noticed that someone was engaged in washing something. But as it was a very cold night, they were anxious to get into the house as soon as possible. They knocked at the gate which opened into the little alley where their nagaya was situated.-KAMBEI, the owner of the house, came out, and, as he had been awakened out of sleep, he was in a bad humor. "You might come home a little earlier on such a cold night, I should think," said KAMBEI to the men. "It is very troublesome having to get up and open the gate for people in the middle of the night like this." "As we are palanquin-bearers," said one of the men, "it is impossible for us to choose our time for coming home. So I hope you will not be too hard on us." As they went into the house, they saw a man called-KANTARO enter the nagaya opposite to theirs. To him KAMBEI spoke in a good tempered way. "Where has Mr. KANTARO been to-night"? asked the landlord in a bright cheerful voice. "Why he grumbles with us and not with KANTARO, it is hard to see," said the bearers to each other. "We are poor, but we are honest, and work hard to get a living; whereas this KANTARO does nothing but gamble and drink. Why does KAMBEI treat him with more deference than he does us? It is no doubt owing to the landlord's getting a present from KANTARO every now and again. We will seek some other quarters, if this ill-tempered old fellow goes on as he does.-Well, well! as we have had a good job to-day we will comfort ourselves with a drink and settle in for the night." The next morning, as it was very cold, the bearers said to each other:-" Let us go and have a hot bath this morning." On the way, they talked about what had happened the night before. "What could that man have been doing whom we saw in the street last night?" asked one of them. "As KANTARO came in at the gate immediately after us, it was no doubt he who was there. Let us go and have a look at the tub where he was washing." This they did, and found some blood marks on the side of the tub, which at once aroused their suspicions. "That fellow is always in bad company," said they, "no doubt he has had a quarrel with someone, and has got his sword stained with the blood of his foe." While thus conversing, they reached the Bath House. Here they found that the people were all talking about nothing else but a murder which had been committed the night before, and the carrying off of a hundred ryo. When GONZO and SUKEJU heard this, they looked at each other in the Bath House in a knowing way. And when they got outside, they said:-" This fellow KANTARO is no doubt the murderer of the old woman. We will watch him well to see whether spends much money or not." III. A few days after the incidents related above, the bearers heard that HIKOBEI had been accused and proved guilty of the murder of the old woman, and had been executed. They thought this very strange, but it was no concern of theirs, so they kept their thoughts to themselves. They had some friends who lived in Hashimoto-cho, who had known HIK0BEI. These friends said that he was a very honest man, and not at all the kind of person to steal or to commit murder. "It is commonly reported," they added, "that it was owing to the torture to which he was subjected that HIKOBEI confessed to having committed the crime of which he was accused." In the meanwhile, the bearers noticed that KANTARO was spending money very fast. It was constantly reported that he had obtained large sums by success in gambling. The owner of his house and the neighbors respected him more and more, on account of the money which he had possessed. But the two bearers treated him with the greatest coldness, and watched his every action whenever they came into contact with him. Our story now returns to the family which HIKOBEI had left in Osaka. They had constantly received letters from HIKOBEI to say that he hoped soon to return to his native place and set up in business again. And just as they were waiting longingly for the time when they should be all united once more, the news of HlK0BEI'S arrest, trial, and execution reached them. His eldest son, HIKOSABURO, was then about fifteen years of age. Young though he was, he determined to go up to Edo and procure some part of his father's remains, even supposing that he were unable to obtain more than a single bone. With a brave heart he set out on foot, and trudged all the way to Kawasaki, at which place he asked where the heads of criminals were bleached, and was told that they were exposed in two places: one being Kozukahara, and the other Suzugamori; but that the heads of criminals from the West and South were usually exposed in the latter place. HlK0SABURO went to Suzugamori at once. He found that it would be Impossible to remove his father's remains by day; for a close watch was kept over the bones of the dead. So he determined to try to do it at night. The place was dreary and desolate, even in the day time. And at night, it was said to be haunted with the ghosts of the criminals whose bones were lying unburied there. Nothing but a strong sense of duty-nothing but the most fervent filial piety, could have induced the lad to go to such a dreadful place at night and alone. By the light of the stars he found a spot where there lay a large number of dead men's bones, all in a confused heap. Which among them were his father's, HIKOSABURO could not tell. But on thinking over the matter, he remembered having heard that if the blood of a child is dropped on a parent's bone, owing to the affinity between the two, the blood will be absorbed by the bone, but that in any other case, it will run off without entering. This test he made up his mind to resort to. He cut his finger and allowed the blood to drop on several bones, but they did not absorb it in the least. While he was thus engaged, he saw a light in the distance. "It will never do to be caught here," said he to himself, and at once took refuge in some grass that was near. He perceived from his place of concealment that two men were approaching. One was bearing an empty palanquin, and the other carrying a lantern. They were conversing with each other as they went along the road. "I say, SUKEJU, "said one of them, "that man HIKOBEI, whose head was exposed here last year, was certainly put to death by mistake. It was KANTARO who killed the old woman. Were I a relation of HIKOBEI'S, I would make this known far and wide; but as I am not concerned in the matter, it is, perhaps, better that I should remain quiet about it. Ah, poor soul!-he wanders in Hades unable to ascend to the Paradise of bliss." It was no other than GONZO who made these remarks. He and his companion were on their way back to Edo, after having conveyed a traveler to a place near. HIK0SABURO was pleased enough to hear these words. "God has brought me into contact with this man," said he, "I will follow him up and endeavor to find out from him something about my poor father." Here HIKOSABURO followed the bearers at a little distance all the way to Edo. But as it was very late when they reached the city, he determined not to make himself known to them till the following day. So, as he was a perfect stranger to the place, and did not know where to go and had little money to spare, he laid down on some fire-wood near the river and slept till daylight. At dawn he went to the house of the bearers and informed them who he was. On hearing that his father had been killed by mistake, he said: - "As my father cannot be brought to life again, there is nothing I can do for him, unless it be to remove the disgrace which has been attached to his name; and this I will do by finding out who the real murderer was." Here he asked the two bearers whether they would not help him to effect this. "This lad" said GONZO to SUKEJU "has come all the way from Osaka to find out something about his father. He is evidently a boy with good feelings. Shall we not do our best to help him to discover the real culprit?" SUKEJU fell in with the proposal, and the two men commenced to make inquiries. They went to Hashimoto-cho and made known to HACHIEMON, the landlord of HIKOBEI'S house, their suspicions in reference to KANTARO. IV. "You may be quite right in thinking that KANTARO was the murderer;" said HACHIEMON, "but you have no clear proof of the same; and therefore, in bringing the matter before the authorities, we must be careful not to commit ourselves in any way. I will write a letter to the Bugyo, which will bring the matter up for consideration, without saying whom we think the culprit is. He wrote as follows: - "To His Excellency O-OKA TADASUKE, ECHIZEN-NO-KAMI. "Sir,-With the greatest deference and respect I venture to address a letter to your Excellency. I have the honor to inform your Excellency that the son of HIKOBEI HIKOSABURZO has come to my house from Osaka. He asserts that his father was innocent of the guilt of which he was accused and for which he was executed, that his condemnation was owing to the imperfect way in which I represented his case to the authorities, and that therefore he looks upon me as his father's enemy whom he ought to kill. With my head he says he will comfort the departed spirit of his father. He has come all the way from Osaka alone for this purpose. I have told him that it was impossible for me to interfere in any way with the decision of the authorities, and that therefore I am not to be held responsible for what they have done. But he is like a madman, and will not listen to anything I say. On inquiring where he is living in Edo, I was told that he is not staying anywhere here. He seems to have come straight to my house from Osaka. As he refuses to listen to anything I say, what to do with him I do not know. There is no place to which I can send him here, and I cannot prevail on him to go back to Osaka. I beg that your Excellency will kindly make use of your august power to induce him to return to his native place. I have the honor to be, your obedient servant, -HACHIEMON." HIK0SABURO was taken bound to TADASUKE with the letter. TADASUKE informed him that his father having committed theft and murder had been condemned to death, but that HACHIEMON was not responsible for the course that things had taken. "Your father confessed his guilt;" said TADASUKE. "It is natural enough for you to wish to avenge his death in some way or other, but, as there is no means of doing this, you had better go quietly back to Osaka." Here, with tears in his eyes, HIK0SABURO assured the Bugyo that his father was innocent. "I know," said he, "the man who is suspected of having committed the murder. There are two men who can give evidence on the matter." He now gave the names and the address of the two bearers. "I admire," said TADASUKE, "the zeal with which you espouse your father's cause. I will make inquiries into the matter. In the meanwhile, you shall be placed in charge of HACHIEMON." The next day, a summons from the Bugyo reached KAMBEI, which ran as follows :- "Having certain inquiries to make of GONZO and SUKEJU, your tenants, you are to appear at this Court to-morrow morning with the two men above named" KAMBEI, going at once to the two bearers, asked: - "What on earth have you been doing? Either you have been taking things from some person whom you have been bearing, or you have committed some other outrage; for you are summoned to the Court to-morrow. Here's a pretty business! There is no knowing what trouble one may get into with bearers in the house!" GONZO was incensed by this remark "We are poor," said he, "but dishonest we are not; so you need not speak to us in this rude way. To-morrow will show whether we have done anything wrong or not." The next day they went to the Court, and TADASUKE inquired where the two men had met HIKOSABURO; and afterwards, by degrees, elicited from them all they knew of the doings of KANTARO. After their evidence had been given, "Please your Excellency," said KAMBEI, "not to attend to anything that these men say about KANTARO. He is no such person as they represent. He is a very hard working man." "What work does he do?" asked TADASUKE. At first KAMBEI did not answer, but afterwards said: - "He is a vegetable seller." "He is nothing of the kind," interrupted GONZO. "He spends all his time in gambling. And why our landlord is so fond of him and treats us with such contempt, I cannot tell." "Why do you defend a rogue like KANTARO?" asked TADASUKE, raising his voice. "You are no better than he, and shall be handcuffed." Here he ordered hand-cuffs to be placed on KAMBEI, and then gave him permission to return to his house. KAMBEI was intending to relate all that had happened to KANTARO, but when he reached his house he found that the latter was under arrest and had been carried off to prison. The next day KANTARO was examined. He persisted in saying that he was innocent of the crime with which he was charged. So TADASUKE sent for his wife and addressed her as follows: - "Last year you improved the state of your house and purchased all kinds of ornaments. Where did you get the money with which to do this?" "As I am a woman," replied the wife, "of course I know nothing of the manner in which my husband gets his money." "It is no use your trying to hide things;" rejoined the Bugyo; "for your husband has already confessed that the money which you have been using was stolen from an old woman whom he killed in Bakuro-cho. If you do not confess, then, though you are a woman, you will be imprisoned." KANTARO'S wife now confessed that her husband was the author of both the theft and the murder. Whereupon, KANTARO was called and was informed that there was no object in his concealing his crime any longer, as his wife had confessed it. "If you confess," said TADASUKE, " I will spare your wife and children, otherwise I cannot promise to do so." KANTARO, thinking it was useless to try and conceal the matter any longer, acknowledged his guilt. "How did you get to know there vas any money to be stolen?" asked TADASUKE. "I overheard a conversation on the subject between HIKOBEI and the old woman;" replied KANTARO. Here the usual document containing the formal statement of his crime was drawn up, and KANTARO affixed his seal to it. Not long after the events recorded above, a summons was issued, commanding all those concerned in any way with the case which had been tried to appear in Court on a certain day. On the day appointed, TADASUKE addressed ICHIROZAEMON, the owner of the hotel in Bakuro-cho, as follows: - "You were very positive that the author of the murder and the theft which had been committed was HIKOBEI; and owing to what you said about it, HIKOBEI was tortured and made to confess that he was guilty or these crimes. But now another person has made his appearance, who says that he was their author." Here TADASUKE commanded KANTARO to confess to ICHIROZAEMON what he had done. ICHIROZAEMON was too much astonished to utter a single word. "You are to be blamed," continued TADASUKE, "for suspecting HIKOBEI in the way you did. What have you to say for yourself?" ICHIROZAEMON bowing his head to the ground said nothing. "You are still young," said TADASUKE, turning to HIKOSABURO, "but your zeal in endeavoring to wipe off the disgrace which was attached to your father's name is highly creditable to you." "Your being moved by the sight of such filial piety as that exhibited by HIK0SABURO," said TADASUKE to GONZO, SUKEJU, and HACHIEMON, "and being willing to furnish the evidence whereby the real criminal was discovered is very praiseworthy." "You," said the Bugyo to KAMBEI, "being a landlord, are supposed to know the characters of your tenants. What business, then, had you to be on good terms with a thief and a murderer?" KAMBEI was silent. "Excuse me for speaking," said GONZO, "but your Excellency has just remarked that HIKOBEI was condemned owing to what ICHIROZAEMON said. I should like to ask whether you are guided in your decisions by what those who come here for judgment are pleased to say. ICHIROZAEMON'S asserting that HIKOBEI was the culprit should not have been allowed to influence your decision." HIK0SABURO here thanked the Judge for having made it clear that his father was innocent, and asked as a favor that his father's corpse might be given to him. "If it were one of us who had been the means of an innocent man's death, we should certainly have been punished," interposed HACHIEMON, "but as it is an officer of the Government who has acted thus, I suppose nothing can be done." "Although," added GONZO, addressing the Judge, "you are so clever that it is said that you are second to none as a Bugyo, yet, as the proverb says, 'Even KOBO makes a mistake in writing now and again.' Evidently this HIKOBEI'S case is one in which you have been deceived. What do you propose to do? It is not enough to say that HIKOBEI is innocent and KANTARO guilty. Something else must be done." Here they began to find fault with the Bugyo one after another. "Be silent, all of you," shouted TADASUKE. "No," replied GONZO ! "I will not be silent. For HIKOSABURO'S sake, the case cannot be left like this. Something must be done to make it clear to all that his father was innocent of the guilt for which he was put to death. Some compensation, too, ought to be given to HIK0SABURO for the disgrace that has been brought on his family by the mistake which has been made." "What can I do?" asked TADASUKE; and then, after a pause, continued: - "Well, keep quiet! I will give directions that a reward for HIKOSABURO'S filial piety be brought." Here orders were given to an officer to bring the said reward. The friends of HIKOSABURO, as well as the lad himself, were all wondering what would be forthcoming, when, presently, a man was ushered into the Court. His face was very pale, and he looked as though for a long time he had not been exposed to the sun. "This," said TADASUKE, pointing to the man, "is the reward that I give HIKOSABURO. Look well at him." They looked, and found that it was no other than Hikobei himself. Here HIK0SABURO, forgetting in whose presence he was, sprung forward, and, leaping over the space which lay between him and his father, was soon at his side, weeping tears of joy, and grasping his hand to make sure that it was his very self and not his ghost that he saw. TADASUKE now informed them all that by HlK0BEI'S words and manner he perceived that he was not the kind of man to commit the crimes of which he was accused, so he determined to keep him alive and abide the time when the real murderer should be discovered. "The head which was exposed," said TADASUKE, "had the skin of the face removed, so that it should not be identified. It was the head of another criminal. And now, as, through the exertions of GONZO and SUKEJU, the real murderer has been found, I restore HIKOBEI to his family. Do not think that I am at all annoyed by what has been said to me by these two bearers or by HACHIEMON. I am glad that the town contains such honest, outspoken people as these." TADASUKE here ordered ICHIROZAEMON, as an atonement for his having falsely accused HIKOBEI, and in lieu -of the money which had been forfeited to the Government on his arrest, to pay the sum of fifty ryo to HIKOBEI. KANTARO was condemned to be beheaded and to have his head exposed after death; his wife and children to have their goods confiscated, and to be banished from the city. KAMBEI'S goods were confiscated, and he also was banished from the town. GONZO and SUKEJU had the property and money which formerly belonged to KAMBEI given to them as a reward, GONZO being made the landlord of the house in which the two bearers had lodged. Thus ended the misfortunes of the Small Shop-Keeper. A COCKCHAFER MAKES KUMASAKA CHOHAN A GREAT ROBBER. WHEN KUMASAKA CHOHAN, the notorious robber, was a child, he happened one day to be playing with a cockchafer. He had it attached to a piece of thread, with which he dangled it about over a money-box. After a while, it dropped into the hole of the box. He pulled the thread to get it out. It clung to a piece of money, which it held between its claws, and was dragged out of the box with the money still in its claws. This incident led the boy to think that nothing would be easier than to take people's things in some such way as this. And he said to himself: - "What an amusing kind of life it would be to spend my time in inventing all kinds of ingenious devices for robbing people!" This incident, it is said, was the starting point of his subsequent career. When the heart is inclined to evil, it needs only a little thing to lead a boy or a girl, a man or a woman, to commence a life of crime. And when once such a life is commenced, it is very difficult to return to the path of virtue. To a different heart than that of CHOHAN the cockchafer's performance would have done no harm. Suggestions to evil from without have no power to injure us when there is no inclination to evil within. AIM HIGHER THAN YOU EXPECT TO ATTAIN. WHEN MORI MOTONARI was about twelve years old, he went to a temple in Itsukushima, Aki. On his return home, he asked those who had accompanied him what they had been praying for. They all gave such answers as they thought would be likely to please the son of a lord. Among them, the young nobleman's pedagogue said: - "I have prayed that you might become the lord of the sixteen districts of San-in-do and San-yo-do." MOTONARI replied: - "Well, is not this a foolish thing to have done? Why did you ask that I might become the lord of sixteen districts only, and not of the whole of Japan?" To this the teacher replied: - "What I have done is right. I wished to enable you to get on little by little; and so have asked that you might take these sixteen districts first." "If I aim at taking the whole of Japan," rejoined MOTONARI, "then I may become the master of the sixteen districts; but if I do not aim at taking more than sixteen districts, I shall never get them. Always aim higher than you hope to attain." All that stood around were astonished at the boy's sagacity. REASONABLE AND UNREASONABLE DESIRES. ONEI day, when TOYOTOMI HIDEYOSHI had a number of friends at his house, one of the party proposed that they should each of them say what he most desired in life. One said: - "I am ambitious to become the lord of a large district." Another said: - "I should like to be lord of the whole of Japan;" and so on. When they had all finished, HIDEYOSHI said: - "As for me, I have, by dint of special effort, managed to obtain all annual income of three hundred koku of rice. What I desire is to get three hundred more." On their all laughing at him for desiring so little; he continued: - "You all wish for things that it is unreasonable to expect. I only speak of things that are both possible and probable; and therefore I say I should like to add to my income another three hundred koku a year. And in order to get this desire realized, I am serving NOBUNAGA to the best of my ability, morning, noon, and night. I have, then, every reason for expecting to see my wishes gratified; but such is not the case with those irrational desires of yours." Though it is well to aim higher than we hope to attain, as remarked in the preceding tale, yet, if we aim at something which it is next to impossible ever to realize such an aim is more likely to prove an impediment than a stimulus to earnest effort. A FATHER'S LAST WORLDS TO HIS SON. IN the Engen period (A.D. 1336-1339), when ASHIKAGA TAKA-UJI was in rebellion against the Government, and, at the head of a large number of troops, was approaching Kyoto to attack the Royalists, KUSUNOKI MASASHIGE and NITTA YOSHISADA, under orders from the Emperor GODAIGO, met the enemy in open battle in the province of Settsu. On their way to Settsu, MASASHGE sent for his son MASATSURA, and in the course of the instructions given to him, remarked: - "I have heard it said that a lioness, when she has cubs, waits till they are three days old, and then, taking them to the top of a high hill, throws them down to the bottom. The cubs which are strong enough to climb the steep ascent unaided, she brings up as her children; the others, she allows to die. She makes use of this device to test the strength of her cubs. The present is a testing time with you, and it will be seen what you are made of. If you have a mind that is capable of comprehending what I say, then listen to my words. The war that is now raging is of vast importance. Upon it depends the future history of the nation. Upon it depends the fate of our Emperor and the fortunes of all his subjects. I am now going to fight a battle in which I shall most certainly lose my life; so this is the last time you will see me alive. After my death, the control of state affairs will pass into the hands of ASHIKAGA TAKA-UJI. But when this occurs you are not to forget all that I have taught you, and for the sake of keeping yourself out of danger's way, or of reaping some temporal advantage, on no account are you to submit yourself to TAKA-UJI. By thus doing you would bring reproach upon our name. While there is still a man left who belongs to us, let our flag be hoisted over the battlements of Mount Kougo, as a sigh that we are still ready to fight in the Emperor's cause. If you carry out these my instructions, then you will prove yourself to be a truly filial son, and one that rejoices the heart of his father." The interview with his father being over, MASATSURA was sent back to Kawachi, where his mother was living. A WISE AND COURAGEOUS MOTHER. KUSUNOKI MASASHIGE, in obedience to the commands of the Emperor GODAIGO, fought with ASHIKAGA TAKA-UJI in Settsu. MASASHIGE'S forces were surrounded by the enemy on all sides; and he, seeing that there was no means of escape, killed himself. TAKA-UJI took MASASHIGE'S head, and, treating it with great respect, sent it to Kawachi, to his son MASATSURA'S house. When MASATSURA saw his father's head, he was very much impressed, and immediately retired to another room. His mother, wondering what he was going to do, followed him to see. She noticed that he took the sword which he had received as a gift from his father into the room with him. As she watched him from the adjoining room, she saw him draw the sword and prepare to kill himself with it. Rushing into the room, she snatches the sword out of his hand, and with tears said: - "You are still a child, but being the son of Kusunoki Masashige, how is it that you are so ignorant of what is expected of you as to act in this way? Why do you suppose your father sent you home instead of allowing you to go with him to the war? Did he think you were too young to be killed? No, it was not because he pitied your youth that he sent you back. Nor did he spare you in order that you might attend to the rites to be performed at his grave and inherit the property which he has bequeathed to you. You were spared in order that, as long as the Emperor lives, you might have an opportunity of gathering his scattered forces of making war on Ashitaka Taka-uji. Did not your farther tell you this? And was it not only just now that you were relating it to me? Have you so soon forgotten it all as to be foolish enough to destroy yourself because your father is dead? If this is the kind of spirit you are going to display, you will never prove fit for anything." His mother's reproof had a good effect on MASATSURA. Giving up all thoughts of committing suicide, he thenceforth commence to prepare himself for the work which his father had charge him to undertake. To attack and conquer TAKA-UJI-this was the great ambition of his life, and it was never out of his thoughts. Even in his sports, he was heard to say: - "This is Taka-uji;" or, "That is Taka-uji's army;" or, "There are the rebel force;" and, thus saying, he would, in a sham fight, fiercely attack the imaginary foe. When he had grown up, with a view of realizing the great object of his life, he attacked HOSOKAWA and YAMANA'S forces, and routed his army. Not succeeding, however, in doing what it was their great ambition to do, - take the head of TAKA-UJI, MASATSURA and his brother ran each other's hands rather than be killed by the enemy and have their heads carried off in triumph to TAKA-UJI. KEEN OBSERVATION. ONE day, when TOYOTOMI HIDEYOSHI was sitting in a room of his palace, he saw five swords lying on the table before him. He looked narrowly at each of them, and said to one of his retainers: - "I will tell you to whom each one of these belongs." Here he gave the names of the owners. When asked how he came to know them, he replied: - "There is nothing very clever about this. UKITA HIDE-IE is found of pretty things; so that this sword here, ornamented with gold, is his. "UESUGI KAGEKATSU, like his ancestors, is found of long swords, and therefore this long one is his. "MAEDA TOSHI-IE, originally called MATAZAEMON, is a man who once was poor and unknown to the world, but who, by great exploits in war, by pushing to the front when an advance was made on the enemy, and by being the last to retreat when his own side was forced to give way-staying the enemy till his friends had effected their escape-has risen to become the lord of a large territory. But as he still desires to remember the days of his poverty, this sword, with nothing but common leather around the handle, is doubtless his. " MORI TERUMOTO is fond of having something different from everyone else, and therefore this sword, with the odd looking ornaments on it, is his. "IEYASU is a great hero; and consequently not one who depends for his success on any one sword in particular, or who prides himself on his swords, and therefore this one that is mended in different places and which has no ornaments whatever on it, in that it agrees well with the man's tastes, is doubtless his. Am I not right?" "You are right in them all;" replied the retainer. A STRATAGEM. IN the Bunki period [A.D. 1501-1503], there was a retainer of HOSOKAWA MASAMOTO'S called SAWAKURA - . SAWAKURA was very skilful in war and subdued nearly the whole of the Omi province. GAMO SADAHIDE, however, successfully defended the castle of Otowa against him. SAWAKURA, seeing that this castle was situated in the mountains, thought that the best way to take it would be to cut off the water supply, and thus starve the garrison out. SADAHIDE, guessing that this was the plan they were about to adopt, was determined to deceive them into, thinking that he was well supplied with water. So he had some very white rice washed and put in a large tub. Then he had a number of horses brought, and on a high place, in sight of the enemy, he ordered some grooms to strip themselves and, pouring the rice on the horses, to pretend to wash them. In the distance the rice looked like water. SAWAKURA'S troops, seeing this, said to each other: - They have water in abundance from some source or other, so it is useless remaining here any longer." When SADAHIDE perceived that the army was retreating, he made a sortie on it, and put it entirely to rout. A FEMALE USURPER AND HER FATE. I. THERE was in the Tempo period [A.D. 1830-1843], among the retainers of a certain Baron, a man called YAMAGUCHI - , who had a daughter called FUJI. The father and daughter lived together in one of the houses attached to the Baron's yashiki in Edo. At the time of which we write, the Baron had among his concubines a woman called TOYOURA. TOYOURA was beautiful and accomplished, wrote a good hand, and composed nice verses; so the Baron became more and more attached to her, and by degrees, seeing how intelligent she was, allowed her to settle a great many of the affairs of his manor. She had the power of promoting or dismissing from office whomsoever she pleased. Those who flattered her, she patronized; those who were indifferent to her, she got rid of. The whole of the district over which the Baron ruled was in a great state of commotion on account of this, and his chief retainer, YASUTOMI - , who had charge of his domain during his absence from home saw that things were coming to such a pass that, unless prompt measures were taken to prevent it, some serious outbreak would ensue. Under these circumstances, he felt it his duty to go to Edo and tell his lord exactly how matters stood.* On arriving at his lord's mansion, YASUTOMI was handsomely entertained. His overcast looks, however, revealed to the Baron that there was something on the retainer's mind which caused him anxiety. TOYOURA, too, quick to observe this, scribbling some lines of poetry, handed them to YASUTOMI. Without taking the trouble even to look at them, YASUTOMI put the paper on which they were written down by his side, and then, a moment after, took it up and used it as a pocket-handkerchief. The Baron's wrath was kindled when he saw this. "A man who would do such a rude thing here in my presence," he exclaimed, "would do almost anything when away from me in the country." YASUTOMI admitted that he had acted impolitely, begged the Baron's pardon for what he had done, and no more was said about it. The meal being over, "The business on which I have come," commenced YASUTOMI, "is no other than to inform you that your subjects are one and all greatly enraged by the behavior of TOYOURA, and that their fury is such that there is no saying how it may end. I have come, therefore, to ask you to be good enough to send TOYOURA away. If you refuse to comply with my request, then this will be the last you will see of me." YASUTOMI'S face here became livid with rage. The Baron saw that such a man was not to be opposed, and, knowing that YASUTOMI had the whole of the domain over which he (the Baron) ruled at his back, felt obliged to send TOYOURA away, reluctant though he was to have to do it. He dismissed her there and then. YASUTOMI, having, as he thought, attained the object which had brought him to Edo, after taking leave of his lord, returned at once to the domain of which he had charge. No sooner had he reached his home, however, than he received word to inform him that he was degraded from the office he had held, and was henceforth to occupy the position of a pretty officer. After YASUTOMI'S degradation, the Baron reinstated his concubine in her former position, changing her name to WAKAYAMA. At first WAKAYAMA was careful how she acted, but, after a short time, she gradually commenced to conduct herself in precisely the same way as she had done before; and six months had not elapsed before her power exceeded what it had formerly been. She treated the Baron's wife as an enemy, shutting her up in a room and not allowing her to have any communication whatever with her lord. All the Baron's servants detested her, and FUJI, specially so. WAKAYAMA had been acting as FUJI'S teacher, instructing her in penmanship and in the composition of verses. But FUJI, seeing the way in which WAKAYAMA was acting, wrote her a letter one day, in which she thanked her for the trouble she had taken in teaching her in the past and added that, as she was very dull, and was now grown up and had other things to attend to, she wished to discontinue her studies. She desired therefore that her name should be removed from the list of WAKAYAMA'S pupils. "If this is not done," she said, "I fear your reputation will suffer, by having such a stupid scholar as I." With the letter FUJI sent a small present of money, and returned the copies which WAKAYAMA had set for her. WAKAYAMA, suspecting nothing, did as she was requested-crossed out FUJI'S name from the books. Freed from the obligations which pupils are under to their teachers, FUJI made up her mind that whenever a good opportunity occurred, she would kill WAKAYAMA. "For," said she, "unless this is done the Baron's house will undoubtedly be ruined." II. When FUJI thought the proper time for the carrying out of her deadly purpose had come, she put on, one day, the white clothes which it is customary for persons who expect to die to wear, and over them her ordinary best dress, and concealing a dagger in her bosom, went to WAKAYAMA'S room. She found a great many women there, engaged in various ways. She told WAKAYAMA that she had come on public business and requested to see her alone. The women were therefore sent away, and FUJI, approaching close to WAKAYAMA'S side, commenced going over the latter's various faults and asking for explanations of the same. WAKAYAMA gave no clear account of anything, but answered evasively. FUJI pressed her for direct answers, and as she did it, her voice grew earnest and her face became white with indignation. WAKAYAMA, not wishing to answer her queries, and alarmed by her manner, rose to flee. But FUJI, jumping up, stepped on her dress with her foot, and immediately seized her by the collar. WAKAYAMA here screamed for help. "You wicked woman" exclaimed FUJI, "if you are allowed to live, the Baron's house will be ruined." Here she drew from her bosom the dagger which she had secreted there, and was about to stab WAKAYAMA, when her father, who happened to be on guard near, heard the noise and came in. Astounded at what he saw, YAMAGUCHI rushed forward to seize his daughter. But this he found no easy matter. FUJI refused to submit to him. Throwing WAKAYAMA down, she wrenched her hand out of her father's, and, springing on the back of her foe, stabbed her in the side. Before she could do more, her father had seized her, and, dragging her away from the object of her fury, he bound her, and went at once to report the occurrence to his lord. The Baron ordered that FUJI should be confined in the samurai's prison. FUJI informed her friends that she hoped to have stabbed WAKAYAMA in the throat, but that she could not manage it. "But," said she, "the wound I have given her, will, I think, be a fatal one; and if it proves so, then I have all I desire." FUJI'S conjectures were correct. WAKAYAMA lingered for five or six days, and then died. III. FUJI was brought up for trial. The first question put to her was: - "Were you out of your mind when you committed this outrageous deed? "With a composed countenance she replied: - "I was not out of my mind in any way whatever, and if you wish to know whether I killed WAKAYAMA from private spit or out of regard for the public welfare, I will inform you." The officers who were examining her were afraid to allow her to dilate on this subject, lest she should make some awkward disclosures. "No," said they, "we do not want to hear this." Thereupon, they abruptly put an end to the proceedings. Not long after this, FUJI received orders from the Baron to send to him in writing an account of her reasons for acting as she had. This she immediately did. Shortly after, she was despatched to Shinano, her native province. When she left Edo, the Baron's wife thanked her for what she had done, gave her some money, and informed her that she (the Baroness) intended to worship her spirit after she was dead. FUJI was kept in prison in Shinano for some weeks before being executed. It was cold winter weather at the time, but the deed which she had accomplished was so popular in Shinano, that she was not allowed to suffer from cold or to want anything. People sent her clothes and food from all quarters. The Baron decided that as her crime was one of the worst that could be committed by an inferior towards a superior, she should be beheaded. He fixed the day of her execution, and commanded, in succession, no less than three bands of soldiers to behead her, but they all refused to do it. The superior officers of these bands, who were responsible for the carrying out of the orders, decided that the soldiers should draw lots, and that on whomsoever the lot fell, he should be compelled to execute her. This was done. When FUJI was brought out for execution, the officer in charge asked her whether there was anything she wished to say. "As I have been guilty of this great crime," she said, "no punishment that I could receive would be too heavy, but what I am anxious to know is, will my father be in any way implicated in what I have done?" "Your father has become a gate-keeper," replied the officer. "But he has been degraded in this way for the sake of appearances. He will no doubt rise again later on." FUJI was glad to hear of this. And in a composed manner she approached the spot where she was to be executed. The officer, thinking that she might flinch, and that this might lead to her not being killed outright at one stroke, proposed that her eyes should be covered with a handkerchief." "Though only a woman," FUJI replied to this proposal, with a slight smile on her countenance, "I am a samurai's daughter, and was brought up in a samurai's house. There is no need to blind my eyes. Please kill me as I am." They did as she requested. Thus, at the age of twenty-two died the samurai's daughter, fearless of the stroke that took her life. away. The Awa Baron had heard of all that was going on, had interceded for FUJI, and had actually succeeded in obtaining a respite for her. But, unfortunately, the news did not reach the officers in charge of her till after her death. FUJI was buried in the Chogenji Cemetery. The number of persons who worshipped at her grave being very numerous, the priests had to build a large shrine there, and make other provision for the accommodation of visitors; and thus, by degrees, FUJI'S tomb became as grand as that of a baron. The Baron heard of all the honor which was being paid FUJI, and gave orders that the grave and the buildings around it should be destroyed. They were demolished, but only to be erected again. As often as the Baron had them pulled down, so, often did someone persist in putting them up again. TOYOURA'S end, though brought about in a lawless manner, was the result of her own usurpation and arbitrariness. FUJI'S motives were public-spirited, and her conduct, though of course entirely indefensible, was free from all forms of selfishness. For the Baron, whose weakness made it possible for such a tragic event to take place in his mansion, we cannot entertain too great contempt. A FEW OF IEYASU'S MORAL SAYINGS. MAN'S life is like a journey. He has a heavy load to carry and a long way to travel: he must proceed slowly. If he ever bears in mind that his normal condition here is one in which a great deal of inconvenience must be put up with, he will never know what it is to be discontented. When his heart is full of expectation, let it be tempered by the remembrance of the troubles through which he has passed. Let him be patient and enduring, and nothing can happen to injure him to the end of time. Let him look upon anger as his enemy. If he knows what it is to conquer, and knows not what it is to be defeated, some mischief must overtake him. Let him reprove himself rather than reprove others. Let him bear in mind that not to reach a thing aimed at is preferable to going to excess in anything. A FAITHFUL FRIEND. IN KINOSHITA HIDEYOSHI'S early days, he and ARAKI MURASHIGE were very great friends. It happened that some one slandered MURASHIGE to ODA NOBUNAGA. Unfortunately, NOBUNAGA believed the false report that reached his ears, and determined that MURASHIGE should be put to death. MURASHIGE was informed of NOBUNAGA'S decision, so he fortified himself in his castle, and made up his mind to fight for his life. HIDEYOSHI knew that, MURASHIGE had been accused falsely, so, with NOBUNAGA'S leave, he went to MURASHIGI'S castle to try and persuade him not to rebel against NOBUNAGA. When it was known in the castle that HIDEYOSHI had arrived, one of MURASHIGE'S retainers had a private audience with his master, in which he said: - "As we have made up our minds to rebel against NOBUNAGA, why not kill HIDEYOSHI here now, and thus cut off the right arm of NOBUNAGA at a stroke?" To this MURASHIGE replied: - "You say this with a view to further my interests, and if I were to think of nothing but myself, then I might follow your advice. But there are other things to be thought of besides one's own interests. HIDEYOSHI and I have been no ordinary friends-strong has been the bond that has bound us together. And now, because HIDEYOSHI is afraid that my household will be destroyed, and knowing that there has been nothing dishonorable in my dealings with NOBUNAGA, and that I bear no malice against him, he has come to try and persuade me not to take up arms against my liege-lord. There is a saying: - 'When the bird flew into the bosom of the hunter, he had not the heart to kill it.' How could I kill a man who has come to me with a trustful heart, believing in me as a friend. Were I to do such a thing, I should be worse than a brute." Whereupon MURASHIGE caused wine to be brought out, and conversed amicably with his guest till the latter rose to go, when he walked hand in hand with him to the out-skirts of the castle, and took leave of him in a most affectionate manner. Shortly after this MURASHIGE'S castle was besieged by NOBUNAGA'S troops; and MURASHIGE, after having been defeated in battle, committed suicide. THE POWER OF A VIRTUOUS LIFE. I. NAKAE TOJU, known during his minority as YOEAION, was a man of wide reputation for virtuous living. His grandfather was one of the retainers of KATO, the Lord of HIGO. His father spent his life in farming, and died early; so that the charge of TOJU devolved on his grandfather, who lived in Osu, a large town situated in Iyo. TOJU in his early years seemed different from other children. When about eleven years old, one day which reading the Daigaku, he was impressed by that passage which says: - "From the highest to the lowest, from the Emperor on his throne to the peasant in his cottage, self-control is the chief of virtues." He was struck with all he read in this and other books; and said to himself: - "How I should like to become a sage! What is required to make me one? - Application and perseverance." When he was seventeen years old, a Buddhist priest from Kyoto came to Osu and expounded the Rongo to him. At this time, the people of Osu thought of nothing but fighting and preparation for it. Learning was entirely neglected. So TOJU went gladly enough night after night with some others to hear the priest's exposition; and this gave a new impetus to his studies. But just at this time he met with a rebuff. His friends were very much opposed to his spending so much time in study. By putting one obstacle or another in his way, they managed to prevent his reading by day altogether. This only made him more diligent in reading at night. He was no less careful about his conduct than about his studies. In fact he was more ambitious to lead a virtuous life than to write a good style. And he was as anxious to make others good as he was to be good himself. He gathered together the farmer and peasants who lived near him and instructed them regularly. All who came into contact with him were influenced by his conduct, and all lived better lives on this account. After a while he left Osu and went to Omi. Here he was very much sought after. Several Barons requested him to act as instructor to their families. But he refused these invitations, and still continued to teach the peasantry and the middle classes. The inhabitants of the place in which he resided were all very much influenced by what he taught them. The merchants on this account began to ask themselves whether what they had gained had been obtained in an upright manner. The keepers of hotels and tea-houses showed their sense of what was honest by invariably keeping any articles which travelers happened to have forgotten when starting until they were called for. They kept some of these articles for years, waiting for their owners to make their appearance. Even pipes were carefully put aside and not used. And all this and much more that cannot be specified here, was the effect of the virtuous life and teaching of one man. People all spoke of TOJU as a sage, and so he realized what he had hoped for in childhood: he won for himself, the name and reputation which he said were to be won by application and perseverance. Il. Some time after TOJU'S death, a certain knight happened, in the course of his travels, to pass the spot where the good man had been buried. He felt that it would not be right to continue his journey without evincing the honor in which he held the departed by worshipping at his tomb. Close to the road in which he was walking, there was a farmer working in a field. The knight stopped and asked him whether he could tell him where the grave of TOJU was. The farmer put down his tool, and, asking the stranger to follow him, went off to his house, which was not far distant. After having thoroughly cleaned himself and put on his best clothes, he set out with the knight for the grave of NAKAE TOJU. When they reached the grave, the farmer carefully removed all the rubbish which had accumulated around it, and then, in the most reverential manner, worshipped the spirit of him whose remains it contained. The knight was surprised at what he saw, and asked the farmer whether he was any relation of TOJU'S. "No," replied the farmer, "I am no relation of his. What you see me do, others are perpetually doing. All who live in this village have the most profound respect for TOJU. In our neighborhood the feelings of parents and children are just what they ought to be; there is a kindly feeling between friends too; the voice of strife and anger is not heard among us; and all those who live in these parts may be known by their peace-loving looks. All this the result of Toju's teaching. And as there is no inhabitant of the village but reaps the benefit of this state of things, so I may say that there is no one whom TOJU'S teaching has not reached." "Ah!" exclaimed the knight, "it is not, then, without reason that people have spoken so highly of TOJU, the Sage of Omi." So saying, the knight reverently worshipped the good man's spirit; and, thanking the farmer for his trouble, went on his way deeply impressed with the conviction that there is nothing so powerful as a virtuous life. KUMAZAWA RYOKAI IN SEARCH OF A TEACHER. AMONG NAKAE TOJU'S noted disciples, there was a scholar called KUMAZAWA RYOKAI, who gained a wide reputation for learning and virtue. The circumstances under which he first heard of TOJU were very peculiar. Being full of interest, and well calculated to illustrate the kind of influence exercised by TOJU as a moral teacher, we give them in detail. When he reached the age of twenty, RYOKAI made up his mind that he would live to some purpose. For some time he passed a somewhat retired life in a place called Kirihara, in Omi. Here it was that he first studied the Shi-sho, with the aid of SHU KI'S Commentary. Though much benefited by what he read, he felt the need of a teacher, therefore he went to Kyoto to search for one, but did not prove successful in finding a man to his liking. But, one night, while RYOKAI was staying at an hotel in Kyoto, one of the guests there, in the course of conversation with him, told the following tale: - "Some time ago," said the guest, "I was sent by my master to a distant place on business. On this occasion, I had two hundred ryo with me, which my master had entrusted to me for a special purpose. In the course of my journey, one day I was obliged to hire a horse. I took the bag containing the two hundred ryo, and strapping it to the saddle, reached the place at which I was to put up for the night without a mishap of any kind. "On arrival, being very tired, I jumped off the horse, and, entering the hotel, hastened to bed without thinking about the money. But in the middle of the night I remembered that I had left the money on the saddle. At first it seemed as though I was only dreaming that I had forgotten it. But I soon became conscious that it was no mere dream, - that I had actually left the money attached to the saddle on which I had ridden. My distress became more and more intense. As I thought the matter over with all its consequences, it seemed to me that the only honorable way out of the difficulty was to commit suicide. And this I determined to do. "While thus engaged in commiserating myself, I heard a loud knocking at the door downstairs. On going down to see who it was, I found it to be the man who had taken charge of the horse I rode. He immediately presented the money to me, and said: - 'When I took my horse home, and was about to take off the saddle before washing the animal, I found this money tied to the saddle. It is yours, no doubt.' Here the man handed me the money, and I perceived that it was untouched. "I was overcome with joy and astonishment. I had put up in a separate parcel sixteen ryo for use on the journey. This I offered to the man as a reward for his honesty. "He refused to take it, saying: - 'As I have done nothing more than return to you your own property, there is no reason why I should receive a reward for it. I only did the right and proper thing. But,' he continued, 'as I have come so late, I do not mind taking two sen for my pains.' "To which I replied: - 'I had entirely forgotten the money, and had it not been for your honesty, I should never have seen the color of it again. Before you came, I had made up my mind that I should be obliged to commit suicide on account of the loss: so that your coming has, as it were, given me back my life. In offering you such a small gift, I do not for a moment intend it to be understood that I think it to be an adequate reward for your services. I simply wish to show my gratitude to you.' "He still persisted in refusing, so I reduced the sum to eight ryo; but this even he would not take. I then tried him with fifty sen. But he still refused, saying: - 'I beseech you not to corrupt me. I have something in my heart which I prize, and which I am afraid of parting with, if I take your money.' "It is rare to find a man so free from covetousness as you are,' said I. 'And it is rare to find people who think that the chief gain to be had comes from doing what is right. But what did you refer to just now, when you spoke of having something in your heart which you are afraid of parting with?' "'I am,' he replied, 'as you see, a man who attends to horses, so of course I am fond of money. But there is a scholar called NAKAE TOJU in my village who has been instructing us all for some time. One day he exhorted us as follows: - 'Govern yourselves by a strict regard for what is right. Serve your masters with all your strength. Be filial to your parents. Let not poverty lead you from the right path; and do not, because you are low and obscure, be persuaded to depart from the path of integrity.' Were I to take the money which you offer, I could no longer keep these precepts. It is, then, because I wish to keep my heart free from covetousness that I refuse.' "Ah!" continued the guest at the hotel, sighing as he said it, "such persons as these are rare now-a-days! Virtuous conduct has gone out of fashion!" RYOKAI listened with attention to all this, and then remarked: - "Those who look after horses are usually the bluntest of men on all moral questions. As a rule, where there is anything to be got, there they are, and little do they think about what is right or wrong. But this man is a rare exception to the rule, and being such, is one who need not be ashamed to stand before sages. This is plainly the effect of the teaching of TOJU. This man's conduct is a proof that we ought to look upon learning and virtue as inseparably connected. If I do not follow TOJU, whom have I to follow?" RYOKAI now set out to go to the village where TOJU was staying. On reaching the place, he asked to be allowed to become TOJU'S disciple. TOJU refused; saying that he was not a man who was sufficiently learned to act as a teacher to such a person as RYOKAI. RYOKAI took no notice of this refusal, but kept asking again and again. For two nights he slept under the eaves of TOJU'S house. Whereupon, TOJU'S mother said to her son: - "This man has come from a great distance, and has in a most polite way requested that he may become one of your pupils. If you simply offer to impart to him the learning you yourself have acquired, how can it be said of you that you set yourself up as a teacher?" The mother referred to the custom which long before this was so prevalent in both China and Japan, which, while it allowed a man to teach privately, discountenanced his assuming the name and office of a teacher openly. TOJU, acting on the advice of his mother, allowed RYOKAI to become one of his pupils. This occurred A.D. 1642, RYOKAI being just twenty-four years of age at the time. RYKAI, THE SCHOLAR AND REFORMER. A year after KUMAZAWA RYOKAI had left NAKAE TOJU'S house, where, as related above, he had been studying, his father, KAZUTOSHI, went to Edo to seek office. RYOKAI and his brothers did their best to support their mother during their father's absence. They were very poor, and had to mix bran with the rice that they ate. When winter came on, as their clothing was insufficient and their house a very poor one, they had to surround themselves with screens. For several years they managed to keep body and soul together in this way. People tried to persuade RYOKAI to take office. But as this would have involved his giving up his studies before they were finished, he steadfastly refused. So great was his diligence that at the age of twenty-seven he was a polished scholar. He took office under the Baron of Bizen, who was glad to make use of his services. This Baron gave RYOKAI a good deal of power, and encouraged him to make what reforms he thought fit. RYOKAI spent his whole life in putting his learning to a good use. He made waterworks and canals, and forts and defenses of various kinds. He invented all sorts of devices for assisting the poor, and he paid great attention to tree planting. Nothing connected with the welfare of the people of Bizen was neglected by him. Unlike most of the scholars of the time, RYOKAI was not content with acquiring a vast amount of theoretical knowledge, he endeavored to test all his theories by practice. One day RYOKAI met Lord ITAKURA, who addressed him as follows: - "You have been serving an extremely intelligent lord, who has paid attention to all the advice you have given him, and has carried out the various measures you have recommended. It seems to me, in thinking over all this, that if you are anxious to leave the world without anything occurring to mar your past acts, you had better resign your present position as soon as you conveniently can. It is as KOSHI says: - "when people by their merits have won for themselves a reputation, then they should retire.'" RYOKAI thanked him for the advice, and thought it well to act on it. Yet, as he had been in the employ of the Baron of Bizen for a long time, he had not the heart to speak of giving up his post suddenly. And, when he looked around, it seemed as though there were still so many things to be done in his lord's territory, that he did not feel it would be right to give up his position at once. It was not long after this, however, that RYOKAI heard that some of his fellow officers envied his wide reputation. This made him think that it was high time for him to act on ITAKURA'S advice. Shortly after, while out hunting with his lord, he got hurt, his hands and feet both being injured. He took this opportunity of sending in his resignation, which was accepted. Subsequent to this, RYOKAI went to settle in Kyoto. In the capital, his popularity was at its height, and he was sought after on all sides. From morning to night palanquins, carriages, and riding horses were seen before his door. One day, one of his visitors asked him whether he had any leisure. "I find the day too short in which to do all the good I want to do," he replied. "Supposing I wish to do what is good to-day, what shall I take as my guide?" asked another of his visitors. RYOKAI, on hearing this question, considered earnestly for a few minutes, and then said: - "If men's hearts be in any degree set on doing what is right, then the most trivial occupations, such as washing the hands and, combing the hair, may be made the means of leading to virtue. If the hear be not so set, then, though a man may occupy the post of instructor to various great barons, he is worth nothing, and can only be compared to that earth-soup which children make, which, though like soup in appearance, is not fit for food." Subsequently, one of the visitors asking RYOKAI what he most delighted in, the latter replied: - "The land of the Confucian morality is my delight. I like also to resort to spots which are adorned with nature's ornaments; there it is that nature reveals to me her mind." THE WORLD AS IT APPEARED TO MUSOBYOE. "MAN'S life lasts about fifty years; though some few men reach the age of seventy. "Man, whose life is limited, is endowed with unlimited desires. The majority of these desires are connected with getting money. "The hubbub of people borrowing and lending money is heard afar. Everything depends on money; as the proverb has it: - 'Even the decisions of hell depend on what money is forthcoming.' "People speak of money as their property; but it is not theirs long. Money is like a stranger that stops with us a night and then leaves us. "If a ship laden with money comes into our harbor, there is another laden with the same article that goes out of it. One man makes money, but spends it as quickly as he makes it; another is not able to make any. "Meat and drink are like the pin which keeps he wheel of life from running off the axle-tree. To a hungry man everything is tasty. The pleasure of eating and drinking only lasts whilst what we eat and drink is in the mouth or passing down the throat. "Houses and palaces must be looked on simply as places of shelter for the human body. The splendid palace of SHIKO and the hut of GENKEN are vastly different in size, but notwithstanding this, the space occupied by the body of any one man at any given time is only five feet two inches. "With clothes, it is the same. Only one suit can be worn at one time; and even this is not needed after death. "What people wear depends on what they possess, or on their peculiar taste. We should not trouble ourselves about what it is best to wear, but should rather seek how best to develop our minds. "We should be content with what we have. No person possesses everything. The possession of some things should make up for the want of others. "Nothing happens just as people wish it to happen. Either there is a large amount of money, and no child to inherit it; or a great many children, and no money. A child with a pretty face, is often stupid; and an ugly child is very frequently clever. One who takes in an idea quickly, is often fickle. And very silent men are often badly disposed." The moral is, that we should take things as we find them, and endeavor to live contentedly and cheerfully. IEYASU'S SKILL IN THE USE OF MEN. AT the time of the Sekigahara war, some of the followers of IEYASU were assembled in the castle of Kiyosu, and were only awaiting the arrival of IEYASU, prior to attacking the castle of Gifu. As day after day passed without any signs of IEYASU'S approach, the soldiers gradually lost heart, and had no inclination to attack the castle. After a while, a messenger from IEYASU, one MURAKOSHI MOSUKE, arrived at Kiyosu. When FUKUSHIMA MASANORI, HOSOKAWA TADAOKI, IKEDA TERUMASA, KATO YOSHIAKI, and some others heard of his arrival, they conferred together, and agreed that when MOSUKE delivered IEYASU'S message to the various barons, it would be well for him to say that IEYASU had started for the seat of war and would soon reach Kiyosu. "For," said they, "if this is not done, the soldiers will lose all heart, and we shall never take the castle." So, calling MOSUKE, they requested him to do as they proposed. "Very good;" replied MOSUKE. On his going to HONDA TADAKATSU and TERUMASA'S quarters, they urged they urged him to do as MASAORI had suggested. "If you refuse," said they, "we will commit suicide." "All right;" said MOSUKE. "I will bear in mind what you say." In considering what course he should adopt on the following day, MOSUKE said to himself: - "IEYASU always looks on me as somewhat of a fool, and it being so, how is it that he has sent me on such an important mission as this? I have no doubt that it is because he wishes his message delivered on this occasion without ornament or alteration, and he thinks that my simplicity of character will enable me to deliver it thus. I will not disappoint him." The next day, the various barons and generals all assembled in state to listen to the Shogun's message. There was a dead stillness when MOSUKE commenced: - "Lord IEYASU says that you are no doubt all very fatigued by the protracted war which has been carried on." To the surprise of all, MOSUKE said no more. Thinking that he might have forgotten to say what the leaders of the army expected from him, and with the hopes of forcing it out of him, TADAOKI asked: - " When is Lord IEYASU coming to us?" "I do not know. When I came away," replied MOSUKE, "there were no signs whatever of his being about to start." The various leaders of the troops became white with rage, and felt inclined to kill MOSUKE for acting contrary to their advice. But having come as a messenger from their chief, they did not dare to injure him in any way. In reply to their remonstrances, MOSUKE, in a few concise words, reminded them of how matters stood as follows: - "One of the castles that belongs to us has been taken by the enemy; and you make no attempt to recover it. Then there is the enemy's castle of Gifu right in front of you; but you do not stir a finger to take it from them. On account of the wives and children of a large number of you being in the possession of the enemy, your hands are tied, your efforts are paralyzed. As you all seem to be resting on your oars, there is nothing to induce IEYASU to come; and while this state of things lasts, I do not see any chance of his making his appearance." Here MASANORI fanned MOSUSKE three times, and replied: - "What you say is most reasonable. I trust that in about five days we shall take the castle of Gifu. But as it may take a little longer, will you not stay ten days with us, and carry the news of our victory back to Lord IEYASU? " "I did not come to take the castle or to see the castle taken," replied MOSUKE; "I came with a message; and therefore when I get an answer to the same, I shall go back." "Well, anyhow," replied MASANORI, "come and take some wine with me." MOSUKE went with MASANORI, partook of the refreshments which he offered, and slept in the castle that night. During the night, MASANORI collected his forces and gave orders that the attack on the castle should commence at once; and as a result, it was taken the following day; and MOSUKE carried back the news of the victory to IEYASU. IEYASU was most skilful in his choice of men to act in various positions. It is said that, "A good carpenter never throws wood away," and that, " Beneath a' skilful general a weak soldier is not to be found." 'IEYASU saw at once a use to which even dull and unpromising men might be put. His shrewdness taught him that this MOSUKE'S blunt honesty and straightforwardness would enable him to transact the business entrusted to him on the above-mentioned occasion in a more satisfactory manner than it would have been transacted by any one less unsophisticated than he. The secret of IEYASU'S almost unparalleled success was the deep insight he had into men's characters, and the readiness with which he made the most diverse dispositions all contribute something towards insuring the success of the schemes which he was engaged in carrying out. This discernment is sufficient of itself to make any man of spirit who possesses it a great man, provided he has anything like a fair field in which to exercise it. YAMAZAKI ANSAI'S GRATIFICATIONS, ONE day, the Lord of Aizu inquired of YAMAZAKI ANSAI whether he had any special gratifications. "I have three," replied ANSAI. "What are they?" asked the lord. "The first," said ANSAI, "is that among living things I belong to that race of beings who are called, 'the Lords of Creation.' The second is, that in a world where there are a great many changes, where disorder follows order, where evil and good change places so' often, and hence, where it may be a man's lot to be born in troublous days, I was born in a time of peace, when l can carry on my studies without distraction, -keeping company with the sages of antiquity, and hearing what they have to say." Here ANSAI paused. "What is your third source of delight?" asked the lord. "The next is my chief gratification, replied ANSAI; "and yet it is one that I am very loath to speak of." "Why are you loath to speak of it?" asked the lord. "Even were I to do so," replied ANSAI, "you would not credit what I said, and it would only give offence." "I am a very dull pupil," said the Lord of Aizu; "nevertheless, I desire to follow out your instructions as far as possible, so please tell me what is your third source of delight." "Well, as you are so very pressing," replied ANSAI, "let the consequences be what they may. I will tell you. It is this: I rejoice that I was born the son of a poor man, and not the son of a rich baron." "For what reason?" asked the lord. "Barons are born in magnificent palaces, and are brought up delicately and indulgently," replied ANSAI. "They are from early infancy surrounded by women who attend to their every want. Owing to everything being done for them, they never know how to do anything for themselves. They grow up ignorant of all art and of all science. And as every one near them aims at nothing else but pleasing them they are, as a rule, utterly spoilt. Those who are in attendance on them encourage them to do whatever they wish to do; the consequence is, that they are often encouraged to do what is no less injurious to themselves than to those by whom they are surrounded. I was born in a very poor house, and from early days have had to contend with numerous difficulties. Hence I have studied all kinds of subjects; have been taught by a good teacher; have been helped by my friends in various ways; and thus have been able to develop my mental powers. I have received all these benefits on account of my being born a poor man and not a rich baron-this is my chief gratification." Here the Lord of Aizu looked awkward, and did not know what to say in reply. But after a-while, he sighed, and said: - "It is no doubt just as you say." HIDEYOSHI'S LETTERS TO GODS. I. IN the eighteenth year of Tensho, at the time of the Odawara war, HIDEYOSHI wished to send some horses to Odawara from Osaka. Some one told him that it would never do to send the. ships by way of the Sea of Enshu, since this Sea was usually so rough at that time of the year as to make it dangerous for any ships to cross it. "If this be the case," replied HIDEYOSHI, "I will send a letter to the god of the sea, RYUGU, instructing him to insure the safe passage of the ships." HIDEYOSHI sat down and penned a letter to RYUGU, the god of the sea, in which he stated that, owing to HOJO UJIMASA not submitting to his rule, he was going to attack him, and that, in connection with this attack, it was necessary to send some horses and implements of war to Odawara, and that the god was to see that they reached that place in safety. This letter was addressed: "Mr. RYUGU ;" and thrown into the sea. ll. On one occasion, it was reported to HIDEYOSHI that one of his servant's wives was bewitched by a fox. Whereupon, HIDEYOSHI sent a letter to INARI, the god of foxes. This letter is still preserved in a Buddhist temple of Nara, known as the Todaiji. It was addressed to INARI of Higashiyama, Kyoto. It runs as follows:- Kyoto, March 17th. "To INARI Daimyojin. "My Lord, - I have the honor to inform you that one of the foxes under your jurisdiction has bewitched one of my servants, causing her and others a great deal of trouble. I have to request that you will make minute inquiries into the matter, and endeavor to find out the reason of your subject misbehaving himself in this way, and let me know the result. "If it turns out that the fox has no adequate reason to give for his behavior, you are to arrest and punish him at once. If you hesitate to take action in this matter, I shall issue orders for the destruction of every fox in the land. "Any other particulars that you may wish to be informed of in reference to what has occurred, you can learn from the High Priest, YOSHIDA. "Apologizing for the imperfections of this letter, "I have the honor to be, "Your obedient servant, "HIDY0SHI TAIKO." HIDEYOSHI CUTS DAIKOKU'S IMAGE IN TWO PIECES. WHEN HIDEYOSHI was engaged in fighting against MORI TERUMOTO, he heard of the death of ODA NOBUNAGA. This made it necessary for him to return at once to Kyoto. On his way there, he had to cross a small river. Just as he was crossing it, he saw an idol floating down the stream. He took it out of the water, and asked his attendants whom it was intended to represent. "DAIKOKU," they replied. Here HIDEYOSHI took the image, and, resting it against a saddle, cut it in two pieces. As he did it, he remarked: - "I have heard that this DAIKOKU is denominated the Savior of a Thousand. I am now going against all the numerous enemies of my late lord, and a god who can do no more than assist where a thousand people are concerned is of no use to me on such an occasion as this, therefore I have cut him in two." HIDEYOSHI'S conduct on this occasion, as well as on the two occasions alluded to above, shows in what contempt he held the popular notions about the gods. His penning letters to them was perhaps done to satisfy the superstitious feelings of some of his followers, and to convince the men of his time that he was a man who feared neither demon nor god, and that he expected them to carry out his instructions as scrupulously as did the numerous barons who had subjected themselves to him. A MISSING SWORD AND HOW IT WAS FOUND. I. There were among the retainers of HOJO TOKIYORI two called MURATA KOHEIDA and OHASHI DAMPEI. They were neither of them rich, but each kept a servant. They studied together, and endeavored to excel in all polite accomplishments. They were both agreed in considering a respect for what is right to be the only true basis of friendship. On one occasion, when DAMPEI returned to his house from keeping guard all night, he was so worn out with fatigue that, without taking any notice of anything, he threw himself down on his bed and dropped off to sleep. When he awoke, he found the sword which he had placed by his pillow before going to sleep was gone. It did not seem likely that a thief could, in broad daylight, have entered his room and carried it off. Who then had taken it, he could not tell. Anyhow, he thought he had better tell KOHEIDA about it; which he did at once. KOHEIDA was very much surprised, but thought that someone in the house must know what had become of the sword; so the two friends made inquiries of everyone employed on the premises, but they all denied having seen anything of the missing sword. By degrees it began to be whispered about that there was little doubt that DAMPEI had done something which had led to his sword being taken from him-either he had been fighting with somebody, or trying to get into a house by force and had had his sword seized and carried off. This report reached DAMPEI'S ears, and he was so annoyed by it that he went to TOKIYORI and said that, to show his innocence, he was willing to commit suicide. "If your sword has actually been stolen," replied TOKIYORI, "there is no reason why you should kill yourself on this account. It is not at all likely that anyone entered the house to steal it, so you had better have another hunt for it." DAMPEI set to and searched the house a second time, but he did not find the sword. Two days after this occurrence, KOHEIDA had occasion to go to a long box in his room, and there, to his great surprise, he found DAMPEI'S sword. "This will be the ruin of me;" said KOHEIDA, as he took the sword out of the box. He immediately told DAMPEI what had occurred. "Though you have found my sword in your box," remarked DAMPEI, "I do not believe that it was you who placed it there. There is no doubt that, owing to the strict inquiries which have been made, the man who took the sword put it into your box. Therefore you had better inform the authorities that such is the case." "No," replied KOHEIDA, "I shall not adopt this plan. Not being certain what has happened, I shall report the matter as it stands, and leave TOKIYORI to think what he pleases about it." This he did. "There is little doubt," said TOKIYORI, "that someone has put the sword in your box, but as we have no proof of this, and the sword having been found in your possession, you will have to commit harakiri. Were it clear that you had stolen the sword, you would of course be beheaded." "Very good; "replied KOHEIDA. "Your Lordship's orders shall be obeyed." Returning to his house, KOHEIDA called his friends together to bid them farewell before committing suicide. Just at this time, it was found that KOHEIDA'S servant, -SHOROKU, was missing. KOHEIDA'S friends, when they heard of it, immediately said:- "Here is the secret of the mischief. There is no doubt that SHOROKU stole the sword and placed it in your box, so you had better inform TOKIYORI of this at once." This was done; and KOHEIDA'S committing harakiri was delayed. Minute inquiries were made as to the whereabouts of SHOROKU. He was soon found arrested, and taken at once to TOKIYORI. Under examination, SHOROKU stated that he had been gambling, and that, having lost a lot of money, he thought that by taking this sword he could manage to pay his debts; so he stole it. But owing to the closeness of the inquiry that was made, he found it difficult to conceal his crime. He intended to put the sword into DAMPEI'S box, but in his hurry and confusion, he put it into his own master's chest. Hearing that his master had got into trouble about it, he ran away. But according to the saying, "There is no running away from the decree of heaven," he had been arrested. "If this be the case," replied TOKIYORI, "then, disclose the names of those persons who have been gambling with you." "Seeing that I do not expect to escape punishment by so doing," replied SHOROKU, "there is no reason why I should reveal the faults of others. Though only a servant, I am not the one to act in this way. Therefore please let me be beheaded as soon as possible." TOKIYORI watched his face as he uttered these words; and there was something about his whole appearance and demeanor that led TOKIYORI to suspect that, after all, he had not stolen the sword. So, not wishing to make a mistake and punish the wrong person, he said to one of his attendants: - "This man is to be kept alive. But take him to some retired spot, and let no one know that he is still alive. Give out to the world that he has been dealt with according to the provision of the law." II. TOKIYORI now ordered a square box with a large hole in the cover to be made and placed where it could be seen by all passers by. Over it was a notice to the effect that, it was TOKIYORI'S wish that everyone who knew of any persons belonging to his (TOKIYORI'S) house who were fond of gambling, or whose conduct was in other respects bad, should record the names of such and drop them into this box; and that the informants, since in rendering this service to their lord they were acting the part of faithful servants, should be well rewarded. After ten days, TOKIYORI went in person and opened the box. He found a great many names in it. Among them the name of a man who gave instruction in the ceremonies to be observed at Cha-no-yu parties, one KYUSAI, occurred over and over again. TOKIYORI gave orders for the arrest of this man. KYUSAI was astonished at being so suddenly taken into custody, and immediately confessed that it was he who had taken the sword. "Why SHOROKU," he added, "should have represented that he was the thief and have lost his life on that account, I cannot explain. He, however, was not the thief; it was I who took the sword." Here TOKIYORI sent for SHOROKU'S mother and younger sister, and addressed the mother as follows: - "Your son has been guilty of stealing, and has suffered the consequences thereof. This, I have no doubt, is a source of deep sorrow to you. Did your son before his death leave in your possession a written document of any kind?" The mother was overcome with grief, and for awhile remained with her head down and her face covered. But after a little she raised her head and said: - "Now you speak of it, I do remember there was something peculiar about the way in which SHOROKU took leave of us. He came home the same day he left his master's house, and said that his master having occasion to send a message to some person at a great distance, he was to be despatched with the message on the morrow, and that he had therefore come to say good-bye to us all. He seemed very much overcome with grief and wept as he spoke. I thought this was somewhat peculiar, but as he was a very dutiful son, I attributed it to his love of being near his parent, and so I simply reminded him that there was nothing extraordinary in his being despatched on this business, and said that I hoped he would come back strong and well. He lingered about, and it seemed hard for him to part with us. Just before he left, he handed a letter to me. 'Here, take this letter,' said he, 'and, two or three days hence, give it to my master.'" "This I purposed doing, but before the time specified had arrived, I heard that my son was guilty of theft and had been killed. So I kept the letter in my possession till now, and here it is." Thereupon she handed the letter to TOKIYORI. TOKIYORI opened and read the letter, and found that it stated that SHOROKU, when he perceived that his master was being accused of doing what he (SHOROKU) knew he had not done, had resolved to save him by representing that he himself was guilty of the crime of which his master was accused and was prepared to bear the punishment which it entailed. Here TOKIYORI was very much affected, and said: - "Both in ancient and modern times there have been numbers of persons who, out of regard for what is right, have despised death, and not a few, too, who have died in their master's stead. But these have all comforted themselves with the thought that, in acting as they did, they were leaving behind them an illustrious name. But I know of no one in ancient or modern times, who, like SHOROKU, has consented to be called a thief, and, consequently, has consented to bring lasting disgrace on his family, with the sole object of keeping his master's name from dishonor. I thought," continued TOKIYORI, "as I looked on SHOROKU, that he did not seem to be the kind of man who would steal a sword, so I gave orders that his life should be spared; and here he is." SHOROKU was now called, and handed over to his mother. His mother could hardly believe her eyes. She thought it must be a dream; she wept tears of joy. When TOKIYORI saw how delighted they were to see each other, he said: - "True is the saying: - 'Faithfulness to a master proceeds from filial piety.' SHOROKU would not be so faithful to his master, did he not feel as he does towards his mother. And neither do I think that he would make such sacrifices for any master. If KOHEIDA had not been a man whose upright conduct elicited his servant's respect, SHOROKU never could have acted as he has. It is as KOSHI has said: - 'Were there no men worthy of the name of masters, then there would be none worthy of the name of servants.'" TOKIYORI now summoned KOHEIDA into his presence, and, after praising his conduct, conferred land on him and commanded him to marry SHOROKU'S sister. He also granted SHOROKU a large income. As for KYUSAI, he was beheaded. There are one or two points in this tale which need elucidating. By the confession of SHOROKU, taken in connection with TOKIYORI'S mode of discovering the real culprit, it might be supposed that SHOROKU had actually been engaged in gambling, and that this was the cause of the sword's being taken. But this was not the case. TOKIYORI knew very well, however, that the sword had been taken by someone whose habits were dissolute. The theft of a sword being a crime which only a person who had no character to lose would ever dream of committing, TOKIYORI thought that if by some means he could find out who was the most licentious of his followers and dependants, he would probably discover who took the sword. And in this his surmises proved to be correct. The ready way in which falsehoods are resorted to when the utterance of truth would defeat the end in view, shows very clearly that, while excelling in so many other respects, the morality of this age was grossly defective in regard to truthful speaking. This, as well as many other tales which have been given, leads us to conclude that the idea, "The end justifies the means," was, in Japan, as elsewhere, the fruitful source of all kinds of serious deviations from truth in ancient, as it has been in modern, times. THE POWER OF A GOOD NAME. NAKAE TOJU, when returning one evening from some place that he had been visiting, had to pass along an unfrequented road. Some robbers came out of a wood, and, standing across the road, said: - "Give us money to buy sake." TOJU looked them full in the face, and quietly taking two sen out of his purse, gave them to the robbers. Whereupon, one of the robbers drew his sword, and angrily asked him whether he thought that this was all they intended to take from him. "Take off your sword and your clothes," said the robber, "and give them to us. If you refuse to do so, then you need not multiply words, as you will be killed at once." "Please wait a minute," said TOJU, without the slightest sign of fear. "I wish to ponder a little over the matter, to see whether it will be well for me to give you the things you ask for or not." So saying, he crossed his arms, and, putting his head on one side, seemed to be thinking deeply about something. After a few moments, he said: - "I have been thinking that, even supposing I am not a match for you, in fencing, it will be better for me to fight, and try my chance than quietly deliver up all that belongs to me." So saying, he advanced towards the robber sword In hand, and as he advanced said: - "According to our ancient custom, before we commence to fight, we ought to declare our names. I am NAKAE YOEMON, of Omi." No sooner did the robbers hear this announcement than they were overcome with astonishment, and, throwing away their swords, they surrounded TOJU, and bowed to the earth before him. "There is not a child in our village," said the head of the gang, "but knows that TOJU is a great sage. We live by robbing people, but we have no heart to steal anything from such as you. We beg that you will overlook our folly and have compassion on us." "Who is there without faults?" asked TOJU. "After committing a fault, to repent of it, - what virtue can be greater than this?" Here TOJU urged on them all the importance of making their actions agree with what they knew to be right. The robbers were all very much impressed by what he said, and, led on by their chief, became good honest citizens. FEARLESS REPROOF. TOKUGAWA YORINOBU, the Lord of Ki-i, was a baron who prided himself on possessing first-rate swords. After the customs of those days, YORINOBU was fond of trying his swords on beggars, prisoners, and other defenseless persons. At one time he had a sword which was made by the famous BIZEN NAGAMITSU. In order to try it, YORINOBU ordered a prisoner to be brought to him; whom he cut in two pieces. Most of those who stood round joined in applauding the act. But NAWA KASSHO, a noted scholar, who happened to be near, frowned on the deed. YORINOBU, turning to the scholar, .asked:-"Are there such swords as this in China? and are there people who know how to use them as I do?" "Oh, yes," replied KASSHO "there are any number of such swords in China. For instance there are the Ryosen, the Taia, the Kanjo, and the Bakuya swords -all very noted weapons. Such swords as these are said to have cut even rhinoceroses, sharks, and tigers in pieces. In sharpness and quality of metal these swords were in no respect inferior to yours. There were among the ancients of China, lords, too, who took delight in cutting down the people over whom they exercised dominion and but for whose existence they could not have borne the title of lords. Such were KETSU of Ka, and CHU of In. And if your Lordship is anxious to hear of other parallels to your present conduct, there are, as you know, a race of beings whose trade it is to cut people down, a race too degraded and too despised to be worthy of the name of men. I refer to the Eta." YORINOBU paused a moment, and seemed to be thinking over the matter, and then, turning to KASSHO, said: - "It is as you say. What induced me to act as l did, I cannot tell." Hereupon he thanked the scholar for his reproof, and treated him most kindly. A COURAGEOUS WOMAN. IN the Engen period [A.D. 1336-1339], the whole of Japan was in a disturbed state owing to the rebellion of ASHIKAGA TAKA-UJI. At this time, URYU TAMOTSU, together with his younger brothers, GIKAN, GENRIN, SHIGESHI, and TERASU, with WAKIYA YOSHIHARU at their head, determined to defend the castle of Somayama, Echizen, against TAKA-UJI. They made a sortie on the besiegers, but the latter were too strong for them, and TAMOTSU and GIKAN were both killed. The two surviving brothers went back to the castle, intending to defend it to the last. But they found that the garrison had lost heart, and thought it was no use holding out any longer. They noticed, however, that their mother did not seem at all affected by what had taken place. She fulfilled her accustomed duties as if nothing had happened. Among these duties, one was the presenting of a cup of wine to her lord. While doing this, she said to YOSHIHARU: - "My children have stupidly been defeated in battle, and this, I am sorry to think, has caused you some trouble. But I hope that the fact that two of my sons have thrown away their lives in fighting for you, will have the effect of diminishing in some degree the blame attached to my family for this defeat. My children in helping you have as their object the subjugation of the rebel forces; if this object is attained, then, it matters little how many of my sons perish in the war. I have three left: if these three attack the enemy and win a victory, my sorrow for the loss of the two who have been killed will be turned into joy by the success of the remaining three." Thus, with words of encouragement and consolation, she handed the cup of wine to her master. Those who stood round, seeing that even a woman was so full of spirit and hope, were ashamed of their faint-heartedness, and decided to defend the castle to the very last. As a rule, women lose heart before men: but here was a woman whose spirit was so strong that, in addition to sustaining without a murmur the loss of her two sons, she was equal to the task of administering comfort to a defeated and disconsolate general. FASTIDIOUSNESS. ONCE upon a time, there resided somewhere in Harima an asthete who erected a house in which to hold Cha-no-yu parties. The house was built in the best style, and fitted will all kinds of appurtenances and conveniences. When the floors had all been matted, the paper all hung, the walls white-washed and varnished, and all the requisites of the house supplied, the master hired a boy and a maid to keep the place in good order, so that there might be nothing in it to shock the feelings of any man of taste who might enter it. The two servants were ordered to clean the house thoroughly. When they had finished their cleaning, they pronounced it to be ready for their master's inspection. So he went to look at it. The house had been most thoroughly cleaned; any ordinary person would have been delighted with its condition. But this gentleman was no ordinary person; and, being one who prided himself in appearing discontented with what pleased ordinary people, he looked round with a displeased air; then, taking a microscope out of his pocket, he inspected with it the cross pieces of wood of the paper sliding-doors, and remarked: - "It is impossible for me to invite guests to such a house as this. Bring me the dusting utensils. I see that it is useless to depend on you for the cleaning of the house. I must do it myself." This was said in a very angry tone. The servants brought him the box containing the cleaning apparatus. In it there were an instrument made of very slender bamboo, in shape like a fork for toasting fish, a silk duster, and a piece of bamboo with a hole in it, similar in shape to that used for blowing the fire. The servants were curious to know to what use all these utensils were to be put. They had not long to wait. In a moment, the master took the slender bamboo, and, winding the silk duster round it, inserted it into the small crevices of the shutters and sliding-doors to remove the dust; then he blew through the other piece of bamboo, so as to get every particle of dust out of the crevices. When he had finished this, his mind was at ease, thinking the house to be thoroughly clean and to contain nothing to offend the eyes or the sentiments of an asthete. Taking his tobacco box, the master sat down in the middle of the room and cast his eyes all round the house. It was just three o'clock in the afternoon; so that, as the house faced the east, the sun came in through the kitchen chimney, and shone across the room where he was sitting. Suddenly he jumped up as though something dreadful had happened. He called one of the servants, and told him to go at once and buy a large tub. The servant went and bought a huge tub, and succeeded, not without much effort, in bringing it from the shop to the house. He entered the room where his master was sitting, with the tub on his shoulders, and was going to put it down in the middle of the room, when the master exclaimed with a horrified look: - "Don't put it down there in the state it is in; take it out to the well and wash it thoroughly inside and out; then fill it with very clean water, and do you and the other servant bring it gently into the room without spilling the water." These orders were strictly obeyed. When the tub had been carefully placed in the middle of the room, the master said: - "Here, SATSU! there is a Corean fan of mine in the house in which I have been living: just go and fetch it." When the maid had brought the fan, the master stripped himself to the waist, and, taking the fan, with great bombast put it into the water; and, while it was still dripping, moved it up and down in the rays of the sun. The servants wondered what he could be doing. The fact was, that when the sun flashed across the room, it revealed some dust floating in the air, and the master was endeavoring by means of the wetted fan to remove it before it had time to alight on any part of the room. "It is said," remarks the narrator of this story," that this man, though so fastidiously particular about his house, was very careless about the state of his heart. The men in the world who resemble him are by no means few." A BLlND MAN BECOMES A GREAT SCHOLAR IN the village of Hokino, in the district of Kodama, Musashi, there lived, about one hundred years ago, a man called HANAWA HOKI-ICHI, who, when a child, had lost his sight. When HOKI-ICHI reached the age of fifteen, he went to Edo, to the house of a man called ANATOMI-; where he tried to learn to sing, to play the harp, to shampoo, and to act as a needle-doctor. HOKI-ICHI made no progress, however, in learning any of these things; the reason being that they did not suit his tastes. All he seemed to care for was having ancient books read to him. No sooner did he hear anything that was new to him than he inquired into all the minutia of it. When once a thing was explained to him he never forgot the explanation. With him, ear and mind worked together and made up for want of sight. Thus he became acquainted with a variety of books. He solicited the help of various leaned men, and by degrees became well versed in Chinese and ancient Japanese classic literature. On reaching the age of twenty, he became the disciple of KAMO MABUCHI. Under his direction, HOKI-ICHI extended his knowledge of native literature considerably; so that there were few things connected with law, ceremony, poetry, or history that he did not know. HOKI-ICHI thought that he ought to try and impart the knowledge which he had acquired to others. So he opened a school. Those who attended his classes were very numerous. When about the age of twenty-eight, he commenced to write books, dictating to his assistants, who wrote down what he said. This work he continued till he was over seventy years of age. He brought out a series of books called the Gun-sho Rui-shu, a work amounting to several thousand volumes. On one occasion, when he was expounding the Genji Monogatari in the house of a friend at night, the lights went out. His pupils, not being able to look at their books, asked him to wait a few minutes. "What is the matter?" asked HOKI-ICHI. "We cannot see " said the youths. To which he replied: - "Oh dear! what inconveniences people with eyes have to put up with !" A MODEL EMPEROR. THE Emperor NINTOKU, while residing in Naniwa (Osaka), one day, about four years after he had come to the throne [A.D. 317], ascended to a high place and looked over the city. Look where he would, no smoke proceeded from the houses. The reason of this was that the people were too poor to cook rice. The Emperor was informed of this, and he gave orders that for the space of three years a number of the annual taxes should be abolished. And so reluctant was he to spend money that he allowed his royal palace to get out of repair-parts of it that were broken down he did not re-erect, and though the roof leaked, he had nothing done to it. After a while, the state of the weather improved, and the crops were forthcoming as usual. So that, not having to pay many taxes, the farmers had grown quite rich by the time the three years had expired, and there was great rejoicing on all sides. Again the Emperor ascended to a high place and looked round the city: when, lo and behold! smoke rose from all quarters of the town of Naniwa, for the people had food to cook in abundance. It is said that on this occasion the Emperor composed the following stanza: - "Ascending to a lofty house-top. "I looked about me. "High rose the smoke, busy "Were the people's kitchen ranges." When the Emperor saw what a change had been wrought, he turned to his royal consort, and said: - "Now I am rich and need grieve no more." The Empress replied: - "Seeing that our palace is in such a bad state, with the rain entering through every part of it, how then can you say, 'I am rich'" To which the Emperor replied:@- "A ruler depends on his subjects for what he is. If my subjects are poor, I am poor. If they are rich, I am rich." At the end of three years, the people offered to pay their taxes, and expressed a wish to be allowed to repair the royal palace. But the Emperor refused, saying: - "The time has not come for that yet." So he waited another three years before he allowed the taxes to be collected and his palace to be put in order. When, at last, he sanctioned the commencement of the repairs, the people came crowding to the palace, and old and young gladly assisted in the work. Regard begets regard. The Emperor's consideration for the people in their time of distress made them feel that no labor was too great to be undertaken on his behalf. When virtue reigns, how gladly do subjects obey! A PRODIGAL SON. I. IN a certain part of the country, there was a well-to-do farmer, whose marriage had brought him one son; whom he petted beyond all measure, as a cow licks her calf. As a result of over-indulgence, by degrees the child became very sly: he used to pull the horses' tails, and blow smoke into the bulls' nostrils, and worry the neighbors' children in petty ways and make them cry. From a peevish child he grew to be a man unbearingly undutiful to his parents. He became a drunkard and a gambler, and learned to wrestle at fairs. Priding himself on his superior strength, he would fight and quarrel for a trifle. He spent his time in debauchery and riotous living. If his parents remonstrated with him, he would raise his voice and abuse them, using scurrilous language. "It's all very well your abusing me for being dissolute and disobedient; but, pray, who asked you to bring me into the world? You brought me into the world, and I have to thank you for its miseries; so now, if you hate dissolute people, you had better put me back where I came from, and I shall be all right again." This was the sort of insolent answer he would give his parents, who, at their wits' end, began to grow old in years. The son by degrees grew more and more of a bully, but, unhappy though he made his parents, they felt that he was still their darling, and could not find it in their hearts to turn him out of the house and disinherit him. So they let him pursue his selfish course; and he went on from worse to worse, knocking people down, breaking their arms, and getting up great disturbances. It is unnecessary to speak of his parents' feelings. Even his relations and friends felt as if nails were being hammered into their breasts. He was a thoroughly wicked man. Well, this man's relations and friends very properly urged his parents to disown him; but he was an only child, and so his parents, although they said, "Today we will really disinherit him," or "To-morrow we really will break off all relations with him," ended in doing nothing. It was all empty talk. The years and months passed by, until the scapegrace reached his twenty-sixth year, having heaped wickedness upon wickedness. Who can tell how much trouble he brought upon his family, who were always afraid of hearing of some new enormity? At last the relations held a family council, and told the parents that matters had come to such a pass that, if they did not disown their son, the rest of the family must needs break off all communication with them; for if he were allowed to go on in his evil courses, not his relations only but the whole village would be disgraced. This being the case, either the parents, against whom, however, there was no ill-will felt, must be cut by the family, or they must disinherit their son. To this appeal they begged to have a distinct answer. The parents, reflecting that to separate themselves from their relations, even for the sake of their own son, would be an act of disrespect to their ancestors, determined to invite their relations to assemble and draw up a petition to the Government for leave to disinherit their son; to which petition the family would all affix their seals according to form. They begged them to come in the evening, and bring their seals with them. This was their answer. As it happened, that day the vagabond son was gambling in a neighboring village, when a friend from his own place came up and told him that his relations had met together to disinherit him; and that, fine fellow as he was, he would find it a terrible thing to be disowned. Before he had heard his informant half out, the prodigal son replied in a loud voice: - "What, do you mean to say that they are holding a family council tonight to disinherit me? What a joke! I'm sure I don't want to be always seeing my father's and mother's blubbering faces; it makes me quite sick to think of them; it's quite unbearable. I'm able to take care of myself; and if I choose to go over to China, or live in India, I should like to know who is to prevent me? This is the very thing above all others for me. I'll go off to the room where they are all assembled, and ask them why they want to disinherit me. I'll just swagger like DANJORO, the actor, and frighten them into giving me fifty or seventy ounces of silver to get rid of me, and, putting the money in my purse, be off to Osaka or Kyoto, where I'll set up a tea-house on my own account, and enjoy myself to my heart's content! I hope this will be a great night for me, so I'll just drink a cup of wine for luck beforehand." And so, with a lot of young scoundrels of his own sort, the prodigal son fell to drinking wine in tea-cups, so that before long they were all as tipsy as they could be. As he was setting out for his father's house, he said: - "Now, then, to try my luck!" sticking a long dirk in his girdle as he said it. He reached his own village just before nightfall. He thought to burst into the place where he imagined his relations to be gathered together, turn their wisdom pockets inside out, and shake out their small provision of intelligence in consultation. He fancied that, if he blustered and bullied, he would certainly get a hundred ounces of silver out of them. II. Just as the prodigal son was about to enter the house, he reflected: "If I show my face in the room where my relations are gathered together, they will all look down on the ground and remain silent. If, on the other hand, I go in shouting and raging, without hearing what they have to say, the effect will be bad; my action being out of keeping with what they are doing. They will be sure to be abusing me; then I shall be in the right if I jump in on them and frighten them well. The best plan will be for me to step out of the bamboo grove which is behind the house, and, creeping round the veranda, to listen to these fellows holding their consultation. They will certainly be raking up al] sorts of scandal about me. It will be all in harmony, then, if I kick down the shutters and sliding-doors with a noise like thunder. What fun it will be!" As he thought thus to himself, he pulled off his ironheeled sandals, and stuck them in his girdle, and, girding up his dress round his waist, left the bamboo grove at the back of the house, and, jumping over the garden wicket, went round the veranda and looked in. Peeping through a chink in the shutters, he could see his relations gathered together in council, speaking in whispers. The family were sitting in a circle, and one and all were affixing their seals to the petition of disinheritance. At last, having passed from hand to hand, the document came round to where the two parents were sitting. The prodigal son seeing this, said to himself: - "Come, now it's win or lose! My parents' signing the paper shall be the sign for me to kick open the door and jump into the middle of them." So getting ready for a good kick, he held his breath and looked on. When the petition of disinheritance came round to the place where the two parents were sitting, the mother lifted up her voice and wept aloud. The father, clenching his toothless gums to conceal his emotion, remained with his head bent down. Presently, in a husky voice, he said: - "Wife, give me the seal!" But she returned no answer, and, with tears in her eyes, took a leather purse containing the seal out of a drawer of the cupboard and placed it before her husband. All this time the vagabond son, holding his breath, was peeping from outside the shutters. In the meanwhile, the old man slowly untied the strings of the purse, and taking out the seal, smeared on the coloring matter. Just as he was about to seal the document, his wife clutched his hand and said: - "Oh, pray wait a little!" The father replied: - "Now that all our relations are looking on, you must not speak in this weak manner." But she would not listen to him, and went on: - Pray attend to what I have to say. It is true that if we were to give over our house to our undutiful son, in less than three years the grass would be growing in its place; for he would be ruined. Still, if we disinherit our child-the only child that we have, either in heaven or upon earth-we shall have to adopt another in his place. If the adopted son turned out honest and dutiful, and inherited our property, all would be well. But what certainty is there of his doing so? If, on the other hand, the adopted son turned out to be a prodigal, and laid waste our house, what unlucky parents we should be! And who can say that this would not be the case? If we are to be ruined for the sake of an equally wicked adopted son, I had rather lose our home for the sake of our own son, and, leaving our old familiar village as beggars, seek for our lost boy on foot. This is my fervent wish. During fifty years we have lived together, this has been the only favor that I have ever asked of you. Pray listen to my prayer, and put a stop to this act of disinheritance. Even though I should become a beggar for my son's sake, I could feel no resentment against him." Thus she spoke, sobbing aloud. The relations, who heard this, looked round at one another, and watched the father to see what he would do. The father (who knows with what thoughts in his head?) put back the seal into the leather purse, and quickly drawing the strings of the purse together, pushed back the petition to the relations. "Certainly " said he "I have lost countenance, and am disgraced before all my family; however, I think that what my good wife has just said is right and proper, and from henceforth I renounce all thoughts of disinheriting my son. Of course you will all see a weakness of purpose in what I say, and laugh at me as the cause of my son's undutiful conduct. Laugh away! It won't hurt me. Certainly, if I don't disinherit this son of mine, my house will be ruined before three years are over our heads. To lay waste the house of generations upon generations of my ancestors is a sin against those ancestors; of this I am well aware. Further, if I don't disinherit my son, you gentlemen will all shun me. I know that I am cutting myself off from my relations. Of course you think that when I leave this place I shall be dunning you to bestow your charity upon me; and that is why you want to break off relations with me. Pray don't make yourselves uneasy. I care no more for my duties to the world, for my impiety to my ancestors, or for my separation from my family. Our son is our only darling, and we mean to go after him, following him as beggars on foot. This is our desire. We shall trouble you for no alms and for no charity. However we may die, we have but one life to lose. For our darling son's sake, we will lay ourselves down and die by the road-side. There our bodies shall be manure for the trees of the avenue. All this we will endure cheerfully, and without uttering a complaint. Make haste and return home, therefore, all of you. From to-morrow we are no longer on speaking terms. As for what you may say to me on my son's account, I do not care." And as his wife had done, he lifted up his voice and wept, shedding manly tears. As for her, when she heard that the act of disinheritance was not to be drawn up, her tear of sorrow were changed to tears of joy. The rest of the family remained in mute astonishment at so unheard of a thing, and could only stare at the faces of the two old people. III. The halo of his parents' great kindness and pity penetrated tile very bowels of the prodigal son. What an admirable thing! When he heard it, terrible and sly scoundrel though he had been, he felt as if his whole body had been squeezed in a press; and somehow or other, although the tears rose in his breast, he could not for shame lift up his voice and weep. Biting the sleeve of his dress, he lay down on the ground and shed tears in silence. Thus the prodigal was pierced to the core by the great mercy shown by his parents, and the brilliancy of his own original good heart was enticed back to him. The sunlight came forth, and what became of all the clouds of self-will and selfishness? They were all dispelled, and from the bottom of his soul there sprang the desire to thank his parents for their goodness. So he thought to enter the room at once and beg his parents' forgiveness; but he said to himself: - "Wait a bit. If I burst suddenly into the room like this, the relations will all be frightened and not know what to make of it, and this will be a trouble to my parents. I will put on an innocent face, as if I did not know what has been going on, and I'll go in by the front door, and ask the relations to intercede for me with my parents." With stealthy step he left the back of the house, and went round to the front. When he arrived there, he purposely made a great noise with his iron-heeled sandals, and gave a loud cough to clear his throat, and entered the room. The relations were all greatly alarmed; and his parents, when they saw the face of their wicked son, both shed tears. As for the son, he said not a word, but remained weeping, with his head bent down . After a while, be addressed the relations as follows: - "Although I have frequently been threatened with disinheritance, and although in those days I made light of it, to-night, when I heard that this family council had assembled, somehow or other I felt my heart beset by anxiety and grief. However I may have heaped wickedness upon wickedness up to the present moment, as I shall certainly now mend my ways, I pray you to delay for a while to-night's act of disinheritance. I do not venture to ask for a long delay! I ask but for thirty days; and if within that time I shall not have given proofs of repentance, disinherit me: I shall not have a word to say. I pray you, gentlemen, to intercede with my parents that they may grant this delay of thirty days, and to present to them my humble apologies." With this he rubbed his head on the mat, as a humble suppliant, in a manner most foreign to his nature. The relations, after hearing the firm and resolute answer of the parents, had shifted about in their places; although on the point of leaving the house, they had remained behind, sadly out of harmony, however ; when the son came in, and happily with a word set all in tune again. So the relations addressed the parents, and said: - "Pray defer to-night's affair;" and laid the son's apologies at their feet. As for the parents, who would not have disinherited the son even had he not repented, how much the more when they heard what he said, did they weep for joy. The relations, delighted at the happy event, exhorted the son to become really dutiful; and so that night's council broke up. Thus this son in the turn of a hand became a pious man, and the way in which he served his parents from this time forth was that of a tender and loving child. His former evil ways he extinguished utterly. The fame of this story rose high in the world; and, before half a year had passed, it reached the ears of the lord of the manor, who, when he had put on his august spectacles and investigated the case, appointed the son to be the head man of his village. A. B. MITFORD. EMOLUMENTS AND MERIT. HOJO TOKIYORI was an officer who was very earnest in seeking to further the interests of the State, but being somewhere superstitious, he was liable to be led astray in various ways. One night, after having, during the day, been praying at the Hachiman Temple in Kamakura, he had a very vivid dream. In his dream he saw a vision in which HACHIMAN appeared to him and told him that, if he wished the kingdom to prosper, he had better make use of AOTO FUJITSUNA. When he awoke, he immediately called FUJITSUNA and gave him some land. FUJITSUNA asked what was the meaning of this. TOKIYORI then told him what had happened-how that he had had a dream, and was acting in obedience to the instructions which HACHIMAN had given him in the vision. FUJITSUNA replied: - "If you patronize me now on account of a dream, some other day, perhaps, you will kill me on account of a dream. Without any special merit, for me to receive emoluments of this kind-what is it but robbing the State? There being no reason, why I should receive such a favor as that you would bestow on me, I beg leave to decline it." TOKIYORI saw the force of the argument, and esteemed FUJITSUNA very highly for his honesty. Emoluments should not be bestowed arbitrarily, but according to merit. MORAL COURAGE. IN the first year of the Heiji era [A.D. 1159], FUJIWARA NOBUYORI and MINAMOTO YOSHITOMO a5sembled their troops and rebelled against the Emperor NIJO. They confined the Emperor in the palace of Kurodo, and issued fictitious commands in his name. One of these commands was to the effect that all the chief officers of the Government were to assemble at a certain hour, in a certain place. FUJIWARA MITSUYORI assembled with the others, duly attired in Court dress. When he reached the Court, he found NOBUYORI occupying the chief seat, and all the other officers not in their usual places. He asked in a loud voice: - "How is that you are all out of your places, and that the proper order of the Court is not observed?" Thus saying, he passed on, and took his seat above NOBUYORI. And then again in a loud voice said: - "I hear that we have been called together by order of the Emperor. To transact what business are we assembled?" No one answered a word, and even NOBUYORI was silent. MITSUYORI here threw his clothes back, and standing upright, angrily turned to his younger brother FUJIWARA KOREKATA, and said: - "Why have you joined the rebels?" KOREKATA was awed by this reproof, and subsequently forsook the rebels, and succeeded in rescuing the Emperor from their hands. All this and much besides was effected by the brave words and acts of one man. Though the rebels were numerous and MITSUYORI stood alone, yet the latter felt that he had right on his side, and therefore that he could afford to be bold. "Among the faithless, faithful only he; "Among innumerable false, unmoved, "Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, "His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal; "Nor numbers, nor example with him wrought "To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, "Though single. From amidst them forth he passed, "Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustained "Superior, nor of violence feared aught." - MILTON. FIFTY RYO STOLEN FROM A PICKLE JAR. ONCE upon a time, there lived in Edo, in that part of the Kanda district known as Otamagaike, a man called-HACHIBEI, who kept a shop in one of the back streets, where he sold all kinds of old metal pots. HACHIBEI, by dint of much effort, had realized the sum of fifty ryo by his trade. Not knowing of any better place in which to put this money, he concealed it in his pickle jar. He was living in what is called a nagaya; which consists of one long building divided up into different parts to suit the convenience of the poor tenants who inhabit it. As a large number of people were residing in this building, some one soon discovered that the money was concealed in the pickle jar.' And the discovery was no sooner made than the money was stolen. One day, when HACHIBEI went to see whether his money was all right, what was his astonishment to find it gone. The poor man was in the greatest distress. This blow seemed to break his heart. He went to the owner of the building and told him what had happened. The landlord was very sorry, but said that he did not know what to do. He advised HACHIBEI to have another look for it, as it might be in the tub after all. HACHIBI said that further search would be useless, and that he thought that the matter ought to be carried into court at once. "Of course the matter should be reported," said the landlord, "but how it can be carried into court, I do not know. What case can be made out of it? Who are you going to accuse?" HACHIBEI pleaded hard; saying that if this money were not recovered, he would not know how to go on with his business. So, to satisfy him, the landlord requested O-OKA TADASUKE to institute an inquiry into the matter. After hearing the case, TADASUKE said to HACHIBEI: - "Your idea of putting the money into the pickle jar was a good one, and had you not kept going to the jar to see if it was safe, doubtless, no one would have discovered it was there. But your constantly going to the jar created suspicion, and led to its being stolen. Have you any remembrance of anyone's having seen you take it out of the jar?" "I have no remembrance of anyone's seeing me do it," replied HACHIBEI; "but I think that the person who took it must be someone who resides into the same building with me, for it is not likely that a stranger would look for anything valuable in a pickle jar." "There you are right;" said the Judge, "and it is very annoying that a person, like yourself, who has, after much trouble, succeeded in making fifty ryo, should lose it in this way." Here the landlord stepped forward, and said: - "If you please, my Lord, this man is in a very distressed state owing to the loss of his money. He talks about killing himself; what to do with him I do not know. I humbly and respectfully beg that your Excellency will do him the favor of looking into the matter." "You may go for the present. I shall send for you again," replied TADASUKE. prepared to pardon SHICHINOSUKE'S offence since he is only a child, but that, as I wish to give him some instruction in the rules of politeness, he is to bring him to the plantation at the outskirts of the town by twelve o'clock to-morrow. I shall be there at that hour." The priest on receiving this message was pleased to think that the affair was going to end in this way: so he conveyed his thanks to NOBUKATA for his consideration and promised to bring the lad to the appointed spot on the morrow. NOBUKATA'S object in adopting this plan was to clear himself from any reproach that might be attached to what had occurred by persons who were ignorant of the real circumstances under which the apparent insult to his dignity had been offered, and to show his magnanimity in forgiving the offence committed. Hence he had notices placed all over the town which ran thus: - "Tomorrow, at twelve o'clock ARIMA KIHEIJI ICHIYOKEN NOBUKATA purposes instructing SHICHINOSUKE of Koshoji at the plantation on the outskirts of the town. Listeners are welcome." The people of the town wondered what the thing meant. It was something novel for a fencing-master to turn preacher. Well, they would go and hear what he had to say at any rate. So at noon the following day they assembled in large numbers. At the appointed time, the priest and SHICHINOSUKE made their appearance. In presenting the boy to NOBUKATA, his uncle said: - "As you see, he is but a lad and knows little of the ways of the world, so I beg you will be good enough to instruct him." NOBUKATA did not condescend to acknowledge in any way these polite remarks. Treating the priest with cold indifference, he turned to the lad and said: - "Come here!" SHICHINOSUKE now approached and made a polite bow. "I am no other than the noted ARIMA NOBUKATA!" commenced the fencer. "You have committed the offence of scribbling on my sign-board. As you are only a child, I will pardon you; but since you are ignorant of the rules of politeness, I will condescend to teach you. Listen well to what I have to say. You have learnt the art of fencing somewhat. I hear, but the smattering knowledge you possess is no more than is possessed by thousands of lads of your age and ability. Though sufficient to amuse a boy, it should not be allowed to puff him up with vanity. I hope in future you will suppress your conceit." SHICHINOSUKE thought to himself: - "This fellow is dealing out for my benefit precepts which he would do well to obey himself." But as his uncle was there, he did not venture to say anything. "Have you taken good heed to what I have said?" asked NOBUKATA, in a pompous voice. - "Well, that's good. Now let us see what fencing you have learnt. What style have you been instructed in?" SHICHINOSUKE could not contain his feelings any longer. He put his hand into his bosom, and drawing out a short fencing sword that he had secreted there, as quick as lightning he brought it down with tremendous force on NOBUKATA'S forehead. The fencer reeled, and dropped dead on the spot. Now, there followed the greatest commotion imaginable. NOBUKATA'S disciples were present in large numbers. One of them sprang at SHICHINOSUKE, with the intent of seizing him, but SHICHINOSUKE sent him flying through the air. Two others then attacked the lad. One of these he kicked and tumbled head over heels; the other he struck with his sword so effectually that he did not care to approach him again. The remainder, seeing how things were going, grew furious. "Take care what you are at! He is no mean foe!" they exclaimed; and, drawing their swords, they rushed on him pell-mell. SHICHINOSUKE defended himself with the greatest adroitness, and, amidst the tremendous confusion that ensued, watched his chance, and seizing his uncle, who was overcome with fright and bewilderment, by the hand, dragged him away, and ran off as fast as he could. III. SHICHINOSUKE had not gone far before he met a troop of samurai riding on horses and bearing spears. They had in their midst an empty palanquin. SHICHINOSUKE begged them to afford his uncle protection. "Our enemies," said he. "are on our heels, and as you are evidently noble knights, I venture to ask you to take my uncle under your change. As to what becomes of me, it makes little matter." "We know nothing of the rights of the case," replied the leader of the troop, "but as you apply to us because we are knights, we cannot well refuse to give you protection." Here he had them both placed in the empty palanquin. This was no sooner done than some thirty or forty men came up, and asked whether a priest with a lad some twelve or thirteen years of age had not been seen by the mounted samurai. "No; we know nothing about them," replied the chief. "Yes; you do," rejoined the men. "We saw them come as far as this, and they cannot have escaped without your seeing them." "They are in the palanquin, no doubt!" exclaimed one. "Let us search the palanquin." Here they all made a rush for the palanquin. The knight in command of the men was enraged by this procedure. "How dare you examine another man's palanquin without permission?" he asked. "I am no other than MIYAMOTO BUZAEMON, the retainer of KATO KIYOMASA, of Kumamoto, I will not permit even a finger to be pointed at anything that I am guarding, much less will I allow it to be touched." Whereupon he took his spear and stood before the palanquin, ready to run anyone through who dared to approach it. The disciples of NOBUKATA, hearing the name of KIYOMASA, were overawed, and, though they knew that such was not the case, said: - "Well then we suppose they have gone somewhere else; and immediately went away. BUZAEMON, smiling, ordered his men to proceed. After they had got about five miles from the spot where the pursuers were seen, BUZAEMON stopped the cavalcade, and ordered that the two refugees should be brought out and examined. On finding out who SHICHINOSUKE was, BUZAEMON exclaimed: - "Why, your father and I were great friends when we served together under ASHIKAGA YOSHITERU. Since that, I have lost sight of him altogether. Well, I am glad to know where he is." Here BUZAEMON at once directed his footsteps to his old friend MUNISAI'S house. He found him at home, and they had a long talk about old times. This being over, "I have no son," said BUZAEMON, "and if you will permit it, I should like to adopt this SHICHINOSUKE of yours, for to me he seems to be a very interesting lad." MUNISAI now gave an account of SHICHINOSUKE'S past life, and said that if, after hearing all, BUZAEMON still wished to adopt the lad, he, MUNISAI, should be delighted to have his son placed in such good hands. So, it was agreed that SHICHINOSUKE was to set out for Kumamoto with his adopted father. Before he left, MUNISAI addressed his son as follows: - "Notwithstanding you are such a wicked fellow, Mr. BUZAEMON has kindly offered to adopt you as his son. In reference to this, I have something to say to you. My sending you to Koshoji was for the purpose of enabling you to obtain instruction. Learning is looked upon by some as a very extensive thing; but spoken of briefly, it consists of two things, and two things only: one being final piety, and the other faithfulness. Warriors are men who, when occasion calls for it, must be ready to throw away their lives as though they were but dust; and in the cause of justice they must look upon their persons as no more worthy of consideration than a feather. Acting thus, no reproach is brought on parents. But to be putting forth one's strength on all occasions without rhyme or reason-this is wrong. Prompted by the anger of the moment, to kill people, and thus be the means of one's own destruction-this is courting a death that only befits a dog. It is as KOSHI says: - 'We are not to be like the tiger that in his fury throws himself into the river and loses his life without an adequate reason for doing so."' SHICHINOSUKE was moved by these words. "I will bear in mind what you say, Sir, and do my best to serve my adopted father well, so please let your mind be at rest about this." MUNISAI was very much impressed by the change that had come over his son, which had specially revealed itself in the manner in which he had received the reproof now administered, and he felt a pang go through, his heart as he thought of the separation which was about to take place. BUZAEMON took the lad to Kumamoto and did all that lay in his power to develop his faculties. He taught him, among other things, how to ride, and how to fence after a new style. SHICHINOSUKE applied himself, and soon acquired BUZAEMON'S style; though he did not like the idea of giving up his father's mode of fencing, which differed considerably from that taught by BUZAEMON. One day, when SHICHINOSUKE went to a neighboring temple to pray for success in war, he saw a woman dancing and using two swords in a most skilful manner. As he watched her, he thought to himself: - "I will learn how to fight with two swords; and as my father fences with a short sword and BUZAEMON with a long one, by using both swords at one time I shall please them both." From this time he practiced the art of using the two swords most diligently, and before long grew quite skilled in it. This led to his becoming the author of a style of fencing known a the "Two-Sworded-style." BUZAEMON, on hearing of this, one day called SHICHINOSUKE and asked him what this new style of fencing that he had invented was like. "Well," said the lad, "to speak of inventing a new style to one's parent is perhaps saying more than is proper. But as you wish to know, I will show you. It is as follows: - 'Two swords are taken, one in each hand, a long one in the right hand, which corresponds to the male principle (yo), and a short one in the left hand which corresponds to the female principle (in). At first, the two swords, like the two principles, remain together and seem as if hesitating as to how they should act; then they part from each other, the male sword going up, and thus corresponding to heaven, and the lower one descending and becoming earth. Then, on coming together again in the form of a cross, they produce all manner of results. This crossing of the two it is that, like the combining of the two principles, begets a universe of things." "This is clever," said BUZAEMON, "and your mode of explaining it, too, is most learned and plausible. Let us try how it acts." The two took fencing swords, and BUZAEMON suddenly made a cut at SHICHINOSUKE'S head. But the latter in an instant had his crossed swords up to receive the blow. BUZAEMON pressed his swords hard to try and break through the combination, but in vain. He then tried to withdraw his own sword; but there was no chance of doing it without running the risk of being pierced; as SHICHINOSUKE held his upper sword close to the blade of his opponent's weapon while he supported it from beneath with his under one. Had BUZAEMON taken away his sword, SHICHINOSUKE was ready to run his under sword into his body before his sword could possibly be lowered to parry the thrust. BUZAEMON seeing that there was nothing to be done, threw away his sword and retired. He tried another mode of attack, but with no better success. "This is a style," said BUZAEMON, "that you need not be ashamed of anywhere." The "Two-sworded-style" became more and more popular in every part of the country. People crowded to SHINOSUKE'S place to fence with him, but were invariably defeated. IV. Our story now returns to MUNISAI. At this time there resided in Himeji a noted fencing-master called SASAKI GANRYU. GANRYU had established a fencing school in Himeji, which was attended by a large number of disciples. At the entrance to his fencing school stood a notice which ran thus: - "The Best Fencing in Japan taught here!" Among his disciples, there were the nephew of HIDEYOSHI, KINOSHITA KATSUTOSHI, and several other great personages. One day it happened that MUNISAI went to the hot water springs of Arima to bathe, and put up at a hotel next door to GANRYU'S fencing yard. With him he had a servant called-KYUSUKE, who was very fond of children. KYUSUKE took one of the hotel-keeper's children and lifted him up to pick a persimmon from one of GANRYU'S trees. KYUSUKE was detected, seized, and taken off to GANRYU; and word was sent to the hotel-keeper informing him of what had occurred. On inquiry, GANRYU learnt that MUNISAI was the master of the lad. So he insisted on his coming to see him; which MUNISAI did. GANRYU agreed to release MUNISAI'S servant only on the condition that he would have a fencing match with him. This MUNISAI declined to do. But GANRYU would not hear of a refusal. "If you will not fence, then I will not release your servant," persisted GANRYU. MUNISAI therefore had no choice-he was obliged to consent. GANRYU, being sure of victory, wished to make the matter as public as possible; so, after receiving permission to hold the match, he sent round to all the great people of the neighborhood inviting them to be present on the occasion. The place at which it was decided to hold the contest was Kamejima; and the time, the day following that on which the incident described above took place, at ten o'clock. Crowds of spectators assembled at the appointed time. While looking at the two men before the match began, they all thought that MUNISAI, being an old, infirm looking man, would be sure to be defeated by a fine stalwart man like GANRYU. "If I am defeated," said GANRYU to MUNISAI, "then the notice that stands outside my house, which states that I am the first fencer in Japan, shall be presented to you." GANRYU fenced with a fencing sword three feet long, but MUNISAI'S sword was not more than one foot two inches in length. On their beginning to fence, it was not long before GANRYU received a blow on the shoulder, which, had it been from a real sword, would have cut him down. Whereupon MUNISAI left off, thinking that it was unnecessary to fight any more. But GANRYU, in defiance of the rules of the fencing ring, again attacked him; so MUNISAI had to defend himself. In the combat which ensued MUNISAI again struck his foe. He delivered a sharp blow on GANRYU'S hand, the hand in which he held his sword. The sword fell out of his hand. GANRYU grew furious, and rushing at MUNISAI seized him by the collar, intending to throw him down; but MUNISAI sent him flying through the air to a distance of twelve feet. This feat was greeted by exultant shouts from the spectators. GANRYU did not venture to approach such a formidable antagonist again. Though overcome with chagrin, GANRYU turned to his foe and said: - "I am very much ashamed that, in ignorance of the existence of such a deeply experienced fencer as you, I should have represented myself to be the first fencer in Japan. As I said just now, I shall be happy to hand to you my notice-board." "Please not to talk in this way," replied MUNISAI. "Defeat and victory depend upon a good many things. My having been victorious to-day is no reason why I should be always so; there is no need therefore for you to remove your notice-board." Here KYUSUKE came forward and said; - "Pray do not quarrel about the notice-board. As I knew my master was going to get the best of the contest, I have' already taken possession of GANRYU'S notice-board." MUNISAI was very angry with KYUSUKE, and commanded him to hold his tongue. "You see how I am situated;" said GANRYU, turning to the assembled multitudes. "I can no longer act as a fencing master to any great personages. Henceforth I intend traversing the whole country in order to study the art thoroughly. When I become more proficient, I shall return to this place and commence to teach again." This humility was only feigned; and GANRAYU went home fully determined to kill MUNISAI. As this could not be accomplished by fair means, he determined to resort to foul ones. He bribed a beggar to shoot his foe with a gun while the latter was on his way home from a friend's house. After MUNISAI had been killed, fearing that the beggar might divulge what had happened, GANRYU slew him, and immediately went off no one knew where. Upon the eldest son, SEIZABURO, of course devolved the task of avenging the death of his father. But he was sick and could do nothing. He therefore sent a letter to SHICHINOSUKE urging him to undertake the execution of the vendetta. SHICHINOSUKE asked his adopted parent to allow him to go on this mission, and the matter was brought before KIYOMASA. "As MUNISAI is no longer SHICHINOSUKE'S real parent," remarked KIYOMASA, "it is not incumbent on him to avenge his death, so I cannot give my consent to his going. The next day, however, under pretence of wishing to see SHICHINOSUKE'S new style of fencing, KIYOMASA summoned him, and ordered all his chief retainers to fence with him. One by one they were defeated. Whereupon KIYOMASA changed SHICHINOSUKE'S name to MIYAMOTO MUSASHI, and gave him permission to travel all over the country to make known his new style of fencing and to study the styles or others. This, MUSASHI (as we shall henceforth call him) took to be a tacit approval of the real object of his journey. V. MUSASHI started off at once. Were we to relate all the adventures which he had while searching for his enemy, our story, though full of interest, would become inconveniently long, so we will only give a few of the more striking ones. In the course of his wanderings, MUSASHI went to Bizen. He heard that at Okayama there was a fencing master called SHIRAKURA GENGOEMON who vas a very plausible talker and who had a great reputation as a fencer. "This no doubt is GANRYU," said he. So, changing his name, MUSASHI went to fence with GENGOEMON. He saw at once that he was not GANRYU. MUSASHI won an easy victory over his opponent. Though very much disconcerted by his defeat, GENGOEMON hid his feelings, and asked MUSASHI to stay with him and act as his instructor; which MUSASHI agreed to do. When GENGOEMON thought he knew the "Twosworded-style" sufficiently well, he made up his mind that he would kill MUSASHI, and thus wipe off the disgrace which his defeat had brought on him. This he knew he could not effect by fair means, he determined, therefore, to try what foul ones would do. So, one evening, when MUSASHI was taking a bath, he closed the bath down, and commenced pouring in boiling water from the side, with the intention of scalding him to death. MUSASHI, soon discovered what was meant, and in a very few minutes he had smashed the bath to pieces and was out; but only to find that he was surrounded by armed men. "He is out!" cried GENGOEMON "quick! quick! Don't let him escape." MUSASHI seized a huge wooden bar that had been used for securing the cover of the bath, and with this he knocked over GENGOEMON'S followers as they approached him, one after another. GENGOEMON, seeing this, thought that he would fare no better, and tried to run away; but MUSASHI was at his heels. Convinced that escape was impossible, he drew his sword and did his best to defend himself; but he was no match for his foe, who felled him to the ground with one heavy stroke of his club and forthwith despatched him. Having vanquished all his enemies, MUSASHI fled from the house as fast as his legs would carry him. It was a bitterly cold night; snow was falling heavily; a cutting wind was blowing, and few people were about: so MUSASHI reached a neighboring mountain undiscovered. He had no money, no food, and only one thin garment on his body, the one which he wore before entering the bath. He went into a little temple that he had stumbled across in his flight and searched about to see whether there were any offerings to the gods off which he might make a meal; but none were to be found. There being nothing else to do, he thought he would try and sleep, so, taking a curtain from the temple as a cover, he lay down. But the wind grew more and more violent, and the snow came beating into the building. It was impossible to sleep in such a place. Just as he was considering what he would do, two huge men, leading a woman, bound, made their appearance. They tied the woman to a tree and lit a fire close to the temple. MUSASHI, seeing this, went out, and, standing between the two robbers, said: - "Let me warm myself by the fire, will you." The men were astounded. They looked at the speaker, and saw that he wore nothing but a thin dressing gown, but that, notwithstanding his apparent poverty, there hung by his side two good swords. They thought he had no doubt come to this out-of-the-way place to make some special request to the gods, and therefore asked: - "What request is it that you have come to such a desolate spot at such an hour to make?" Smiling, MUSASHI replied: - "I have come to ask the gods to enable me to punish all robbers and cure them of their wickedness." "Don't talk such nonsense to us," answered the robbers," for a half-naked man to think that he can subdue all the robbers in Japan, is like a clam thinking that he can drink up all the waters of the sea. Be off with you! or we'll make an end of you." Here they both drew their swords. MUSASHI was ready for them. In an instant he thrust his sword into one of them, and the other, he seized by the arm and tossed, as though he were a ball, to a good distance from him. The robber fell on his head and was stunned by the blow. His companion fainted from the effects of his wound. When they had both recovered their senses, they begged MUSASHI to save their lives. "What would be the use of taking the lives of such as you?" he replied. "Strip off your clothes however. They are, of course, stolen ones." MUSASHI arrayed himself in the robbers' clothes, and commenced to eat the rice that they had prepared for their own meal. "Now," said he to one of them, "do you put this woman on your back;" and to the other, "do you carry the light." He made them take the woman back to her home, going with them himself. Her husband, who was a rich farmer, requested him to remain with them; which he was glad to do owing to an ailment from which he was suffering, that had been brought on by the overheated bath. He was treated most handsomely and kindly by the farmer and his family. When he had quite recovered, he set out again, carrying with him a good sum of money. Subsequent to this, in the course of his travels, he fought with a number of robbers, whom he invariably defeated and afterwards exhorted to reform their evil ways. As he was passing through Kanazawa one day, he heard that in a country village in the vicinity there was a fencer of great repute. He immediately set out for the place, saying to himself on the road: - "The idea of a man of any reputation remaining in a country place like this! I will amuse myself by giving him a good thrashing, anyhow!" On reaching the place, he informed the fencer that he was traveling for the purpose of examining various styles of fencing, and begged to be allowed to have a turn with him. "When I was young like you, I tried fencing for a while," said the fencer, but as the saying is: - 'An unskillful soldier always comes in for great wounds,' I got buffetted about so much, that I gave it up in despair." "It is not so," replied MUSASHI, "I hear that you are a very noted fencer, and I trust that you ill be good enough to teach me your style." "I shall sure to be beaten," persisted the fencer, "so what is the use of my trying? You had better go elsewhere." MUSASHI looked round the room, and, to his surprise, he perceived no signs of the old man's house being a fencing-school. No fencing swords were to be seen or anything of the kind. MUSASHI thought he must have made some mistake. Should he go home? No, he would put the old man on his metal and see whether he could fence or not. So, snatching up a piece of firewood, he aimed a blow at the fencer's head. In an instant, the stroke was evaded, and with nothing but a fire-iron the old man won an easy victory over MUSASHI. MUSASHI overcome with astonishment at his adversary's superior skill, immediately humbled himself; and, acting as the fencer's domestic servant remained with him until he had thoroughly mastered his style. His instructor, he subsequently learnt, was no other than the famous ITO YAGORO TOMOKAGE, afterwards known as ITTOSAI. VI. Subsequent to this, our hero underwent all kinds of hardships and met with scores of adventures to which we cannot refer now, until, at last, quite unawares, he reached the house of that famous fencer. TSUKAHARA BOKUDEN. BOKUDEN was at this time living in a retired spot in the mountains. MUSASHI requested BOKUDEN to instruct him in fencing. BOKUDEN entered the room, in which his visitor was waiting, with a saucepan-cover in his hand, and wooden clogs on his feet, and said that he was ready to fence with the stranger. B0KUDEN was now an old man. MUSASHI, seeing how infirm he appeared, thought it a great insult for a weak old man to treat him in this way. On his remonstrating with BOKUDEN, "It makes little matter as to what weapons we use," remarked the fencer, "so come on!" BOKUDEN drew himself up in a fencing attitude. MUSASHI did his best, but he was totally defeated by the master of what was known as the "Handless-victory style."* Once during the combat, BOKUDEN had MUSASHI'S two swords so fixed that he could not move them forward or back, and at another time he knocked him down with the cover, so that he fainted from the effects of the fall. Here again MUSASHI humbled himself before the superior powers of the old fencing master, and for three years served BOKUDEN as a servant and studied his style. After this he set out again in search of his father's murderer. After various fruitless efforts to find him, one day, when crossing the lwakuni mountain, he fell in with a man called SEKIGUCHI YAZAEMON, who informed him that GANRYU was in Kokura, Buzen. To this place he went, and, on reaching it, put up at a hotel kept by TOMOEYA GOROBEI. As soon as he had finished his supper on the night of his arrival, MUSASHI went out for a stroll to see whether he could pick up any information that might give him a clue as to the whereabouts of his foe. Not far from the hotel he heard a noise that sounded as though it were caused by men fighting. He went to see what it was, and found a man hammering away at a tree with a wooden sword, by way of practicing the cuts which he had learnt. "Good! good!" exclaimed MUSASHI, in praise of the man's performances. "Who may you be?" asked the man. MUSASHI gave his name, and found out that the young man whom he was addressing was no other than the son of the hotel-keeper GOROBEI. He inquired of him who his fencing master was, and learnt that he was a man called SASAKI KANDAYU. "This man " said GOROBEI'S son "is second to none in Japan." "Ah!" replied MUSASHI, "he is just the kind of man I want to meet. Will you not take me to his place tomorrow that I may have a bout with him?" "Don't think of doing anything of the kind," replied the young man. "It would be a hopeless task for you to attempt to conquer such a man as KANDAYU." "Hold your tongue!" interposed the father, who had overheard the conversation. "How do you know to whom you are talking, or what the gentleman's abilities in fencing may be who has honored us by putting up here to night. But, he added, turning to MUSASHI, "though I do not wish to be rude, sir, I would advise you not to fight with this KANDAYU. He is a nasty, cross-tempered fellow. If you defeat him, he will be sure to get someone to shoot you in the dark or something of the kind. I knew this fellow a long time ago. He fought with my old master MUNISAI, and got the worst of the conflict; and then went and hired a beggar to shoot the poor old man. MUNISAI'S eldest son ought, of course, to have avenged his death, but he was too sick to do it at the time, and now he is dead. As for the second son, SHICHINOSUKE, he was adopted by MIYAMOTO BUZAEMON; but what has become of him since, I do not know. The house of YOSHIOKA MUNISAI is ruined, and all the property of the family has been taken from them. I have taken up my abode here to endeavor, if possible, to give information to any one who might visit the place with the intention of avenging my master's death." "I" said MUSASHI in a low voice "that speak to you, am no other than SHICHINOSUKE." Here he related to them the history of his past life. They at once concocted a plan for bringing GANRYU face to face with his foe. GOROBEI'S son was sent to GANRYU to say that there was a guest in his father's house who was anxious to fence with him, and to ask whether he would not come to the hotel and have a turn with him. As it was one of his own disciples that made this request, GANRYU went to the hotel without suspicion. What was his astonishment to find himself face to face with the son of the man he had so basely murdered! "SASAKI GANRYU!" exclaimed MUSASHI, "long have I been searching for you, and now Heaven has been pleased to bless me with a sight of your face. You are he who killed my father. I have come here to avenge his death. Stand up and fight like a man." GANRYU quailed, and looked round to see whether there were any means of escape. He perceived that flight was impossible. "If we are to have a contest, then," said GANRYU, "we will have it in public." A request was accordingly sent to the authorities, and permission was obtained to hold a tournament, in which the two should decide who was the best man. MUSASHI gave out that he had the permission of KIYOMASA to kill his father's foe. This was done to prevent any assistance being rendered to GANRYU by his retainers or disciples, as was often done in such cases if the assembled barons favored, one of the parties concerned. KIYOMASA'S name was sufficient to insure fair play. The contest took place on a small island called Nadajima. It occupied some little time, and during; one part of it MUSASHI was in danger of, losing his life by a stroke of his opponent's sword, but he leapt into the air, and escaped with no more than the loss of a piece of his loose pantaloons. By missing this stroke GANRYU left his own person unguarded, and in an instant MUSASHI'S sword was brought down on his face. The stroke caused the blood to stream into GANRYU'S eyes, and so made it impossible for him to carry on the contest any longer. After this, he fell an easy victim to his adversary's sword. MUSASHI now went back to Kumamoto, where he was highly praised for the brave deed he had accomplished. He received a grant of land from KIYOMASA. He remained a few years in Kumamoto, and then, giving his land to a friend, wandered about the country again, teaching his "Two-sworded-style" wherever he went, and did not return to Kumamoto till he was sixty-two years of age; when, worn out by all the toils, privations, and excitement of his life, his strength failed, and he gradually passed away. It would be difficult to find in this or any country a single life more full of the most exciting adventures than that of MIYAMOTO MUSASHI: a very large portion of these, though equal in interest to those that have been given, we have been obliged to leave unrecorded. MUSASHI was a man who, while possessing great courage, was endowed with a disposition too noble to admit of his stooping to meanness of any kind. THE END.