By the way, a man who accumulates a fortune is by nature different from other men. There was a man who sent his son to a school from his ninth to his twelfth year to learn calligraphy. During these years the boy saved all the holders of his writing brushes, as well as those used by other boys. Then in the spring that he became thirteen years old he made blinds of them and sold as many as three of them, at one and a half momme a piece, thus earning four and a half momme of silver. “ This son of mine,” thought the fond father, “ is no ordinary person,” and he said as much to the monk who had been teaching his son calligraphy. The monk, apparently not sharing the father’s enthusiasm, said to him:
“During my life I have taught hundreds of boys, and not one of the smart ones like your son grew up to be a rich man, though still none turned out to be a beggar, either. They are now living at an economic level just a little below middle class. Smartness is not the only factor for success, you know. Besides, it is a mistake to think that your son is the only smart boy in the world. There are boys smarter than he is. For example, I know a boy who swept the classroom every day after practice was over, whether he was on duty that day or not. As he did so, he picked up all the sheets of paper thrown away by the other boys, smoothed them out, and sold them to a paperhanger. This was a better idea than making blinds of brush holders, for it brought in cash every day.
But even that was not so good, either. Another boy I know brought extra sheets of paper along with him to “ his lessons, and when other boys ran out of paper, he loaned them some, charging interest of one hundred per cent a day. An enormous yearly profit for a mere boy! All these boys had absorbed such worldly-wise methods from the lives of their profit-seeking parents. Their ideas were not the spontaneous product of their own minds. “On the other hand, there was a ‘boy whose parents always admonished him to devote himself exclusively to calligraphy, for they said that in the future it would stand him in good stead. Quite obedient to his parents, he devoted himself day and night to reading and writing, until in time he surpassed his seniors in brush writing. No doubt he will grow up to be a wealthy merchant, for he has learned how to concentrate on whatever task he has to do.
“After all, one can hardly succeed if he abandons the hereditary family business to start a new one. The case is the same with boys learning calligraphy: they must practice brush writing to the exclusion of everything else.
To be smart in other lines is needlessly selfish; and not to be intent on matters of primary importance is a shameful thing. It cannot be truthfully said that your son is normal in mind. After all, when one is young it is best to pick flowers and fly kites, and later to settle down when he is old enough to learn the business. Now just remember what this old man of seventy has been telling you, and keep your eye on these boys to see what becomes of them in the future.”
The predictions of the master of calligraphy did indeed come true. When these smart boys grew up and had to make their own living, they tried out various new ideas and failed as often as not. The one who had made blinds out of old brush holders contrived to put wooden supports on geta to be used in winter when the streets were muddy, but his idea enjoyed only a brief vogue. The boy who had gathered waste paper devised a method of coating pottery with pitch, but on New Year’s Eve his income barely enabled him to afford one lone light. On the other hand, the boy who had devoted himself wholeheartedly to calligraphy, though seemingly slowwitted, grew to be broad-minded by nature. He invented a method to keep barrels of oil from freezing while they were being shipped to Edo by boat in mid-winter, by inserting a bit of pepper in each barrel. From this invention he realized enormous profits. The two had both been thinking of the same thing-oil. But one of them had thought in terms of earthwenware vessels, while the other thought in terms of barrels of oil.
How wide the gulf separating human minds!
HIRATARO
“WE TRUST in the Buddha to make a living,” is an old proverb which still holds good.
Every year on the evening ushering in the first day of spring, the story of Hirataro is told in all the temples of the Sinshu Sect of Buddhism. Year after year the story does not vary, yet each time people hear it they are impressed anew. So usually many people, old and young, men and women, gather to listen to it.
One year the eve of the vernal equinox happened to fall on New Year’s Eve. As a result, the voices of the bill collectors were mingled with the incantations of the men casting out devils, while the clink of money balances blended with the sound of bean throwing. This rather weird atmosphere reminded one of the expression, “A demon in the dark.” At a Shinshu temple in Osaka the priest beat a drum, offered the sacred tapers before the altar, and awaited the arrival of worshipers. Yet even after the midnight bell had tolled, and the priest had gone through all the rituals, only three visitors were to be seen in the hall. The priest being forced to acknowledge that the world was utterly worldly, addressed the worshipers in these words:
“Because tonight happens to be the deadline for the settlement of all debts of the old year, worldly people seem to be too busy to attend the services. I should think, however, that even tonight any grandmother who has retired from active household management would have nothing to do. When that boat arrives from the other world to ferry her across the river, she cannot refuse to board it. How foolish people are! What a pity, what a shame to neglect the services of the Buddha! But now it seems of little use to preach a sermon to only three people. Although these are spiritual services to the Buddha, a few material considerations must also be taken into account. Since the offerings of you three will scarcely pay for the candles burned, it seems uneconomical to preach. Would you kindly take back your offerings and go home? To have come here at a time when people are so absorbed in their worldly affairs is none the less praiseworthy on your part. You may rest assured that the Buddha will see to it that your attendance tonight will not have been in vain. He will have it recorded in his golden ledger to balance your accounts in the future life. So I beg you not to think that your piety tonight has done you no good at all, for the Buddha is all charity. This I speak in earnest. You may depend upon it absolutely.”
An old woman who had been listening began to shed tears and said, “Your inspiring words have made me thoroughly ashamed of myself, I must confess that I did not come here from any pious motive. My only son has been neglecting his business, and every year end until now he has managed to get by with some excuse or other, but this year he was unable to think of any. At last he asked me to come here, so that after I was gone he could make a racket, crying out that his old mother was missing. Then while the neighbors beat drums and gongs all night long, he could go around pretending to be searching for me. Such was his scheme for tiding over the year end. He boasted that it was an original idea he had just thought up in order to outwit the year-end bill collectors by crying, ‘Come back! Come back, Grandmal!’ It is unfortunate for me that I have a son who is so good-for-nothing, but what a pity it is that I should sin unwillingly by giving my neighbors so much trouble!”
Another person, a man from the province of Ise, spoke up: “Fate is forever a mystery,” he said. “At first I was quite a stranger in this big city for I had no relatives here. But since I was employed by a clerk of the Grand Shrine of Ise responsible for the subscribers living in the Osaka district, I would visit this city carrying on my back things to be delivered to them. Seeing what a prosperous city Osaka was, I thought that a family of two or three might easily make a living here doing something or other.
Fortunately I made the acquaintance of a widow of a haberdasher who used to peddle his wares in Yamato Province. She was a plump, fair-skinned woman, with a two-year-old son. I married her, thinking that with both of us working we might live comfortably, and that when
I grew old I could depend upon the boy to provide for me.
“But in less than a year after our marriage I lost what little money we had due to my
lack of experience in peddling, and from the first of December I have had to think seriously of finding another job. Meantime my wife, neglecting me entirely, doted on her son exclusively, often saying to him, ‘Listen to me carefully, for you have ears. You must know that although your dead papa was a small man he was clever. He even cooked, which is a woman’s task. He would let me go to bed early, while he sat up until dawn making straw sandals. He wouldn’t buy himself a kimono., but he had new ones made for you and me to wear in the New Year season. This bluish-yellow one here brings back fond memories of him. In fact, everything reminds me of that dear old man. Son, you do well to cry for your papa who is gone forever.’ “Hearing her talk like this vexed me because of my position as the spouse of an heiress, but all I could do was to put up with it. I had a little money due me from some people in my native province; so thinking that I might be able to tide over this year end by collecting it, I went all the way back to Ise. Quite unexpectedly, however, I found that my debtors had all left for parts unknown. So I returned this evening just before supper, without any money in my pockets.
“When I entered the house I found rice cakes and firewood. Moreover, the table to be dedicated to the New Year god had been properly decorated with ferns. There must still be some hope left, I thought, for the world was as kind as it was cruel. However that may be, I had my wife’s good husbandry to thank for all these things prepared in my absence. I felt pleased, and when my wife saw that I had returned, she seemed more affable than usual. First she brought me water to wash my feet with, and then set before me a supper of sardines, some vinegared and some broiled. Just as I started to eat them, she asked me if I had brought the money from Ise. No sooner did she learn of my failure than she began bawling me out:
“‘How dare you come back empty-handed! The rice you are eating was obtained by mortgaging my very person. Unless I pay ninety-five momme by the end of February I shall be lost. Other people’s rice costs only forty momme) while ours costs us ninety-five momme solely because you are good-for-nothing. You came to this house with no dowry but your breechcloth, so you’ll lose nothing by clearing out right now. It will be dark tonight, so you’d better leave before it’s too late.”
“So saying, she took away the dishes from before me and urged me to be on my way. Meantime neighbors had come thronging in, and siding with my wife, they said, ‘It must be embarrassing to you, but your position as spouse of the mistress is a weak one. If you are a man at all, you’d better leave this place and try your luck somewhere else.’ At the time I was too sad even to cry.
Tomorrow I shall return to my home province; but I was so completely at a loss as to where to spend tonight that I came here, even though my denomination is Nichiren.”
When his story, at once funny and pitiful, was finished, the last of the three temple visitors laughed aloud and said, “Now it’s my turn to tell my story, but please excuse me from telling you who and what I am. I can’t stay at home without being tormented by bill collectors, and nobody will lend me even one red cent. I felt chilly and wanted a drink, so I hatched up first one scheme and then another, but in the end could think of none that would tide me over the year end. At last I concocted a shameful plan: tonight the story of Hirataro would be told at the temple and crowds of people would come to hear it. While .they were listening would steal their geta to get drink money. Contrary to my expectations, however, very few people are to be seen tonight in any temple, and so the job that was to be done under the very eyes of the Buddha is just impossible.”
The man shed tears as he told his story. The priest was deeply moved and said, “Well, well! Though all of you are endowed with the body and mind of the Buddha, it appears that your poverty begets all manner of evil schemes. But such is the sad way of the world.”
As with a sigh he was deploring the world of men, in rushed a woman to inform him that his niece had just given birth in an easy delivery. On her heels came a man with a message that the funeral of Kuzo the boxmaker,- who had hanged himself after a quarrel with a bill collector, would be held after midnight. The priest was cordially invited to come out to the burial ground. In the midst of the ado caused by this good news and bad news, a tailor entered to report that the white padded silk kimono which the priest had asked him to make had been stolen by a thief. The tailor promised that if after a search he was unable to recover it, he would reimburse the priest to spare him any possible loss.
Then a man who lived just east of the temple came in to ask the priest to allow him to draw water from the temple well during the first five days of the New Year, because his own well had run dry. After him came the only son of an influential parishioner who, because of his dissipation, had been disinherited by his father. Finding it absolutely necessary for him to leave his father’s house at once and go elsewhere, his fond mother had thought of placing him under the care of the priest until the fourth day of January. Such a request as this from so rich a parishioner no priest could deny.
So we see that the “priest in December,” so long as he lives in the world of men, is far from being free from involvement in human affairs.
THE PERENNIALLY PROSPEROUS SHOPS OF EDO
IN THE streets of Edo peace reigns abroad, and people from all over the land are eager to do business there. Shops of every variety are open for business, and never a day passes but goods from every province in the country are shipped in by boat and packed in on the backs of thousands of horses. No further proof is needed that there is an abundance of gold and silver in the world, and it would be a pity indeed if a merchant were unable to lay hands on at least a bit of it.
From December 15th onward Tori Street, with its prosperous establishments, looks exactly like a treasure mart. Ordinary things for daily use are pushed aside in favor of goods displayed only at the New Year’s season: battledores and shuttlecocks, mallets of good fortune inlaid with silver and gold, and similar luxuries. Even a miniature bow sells for two ryo of gold, for in Edo not only the lords but also the townspeople are extremely openhanded.
Along every street the stalls that are set up are doing a brisk business. Copper coins flow like currents of water, while silver piles up like drifting snow. Visible in the distance is Mt. Fuji, rising in all its magnificence against the horizon, while the footsteps of people streaming across Nihon Bridge sound exactly like the passage of thousands of wagons along the highway. Every morning fish are sold in such quantities in the Funa Street market that one may well wonder whether or not the supply in the seas surrounding our fair islands has been exhausted.
Every day to the vegetable market of Suda Street in Kanda are brought such quantities of radishes by thousands of pack horses that it seems as though the very radish fields themselves were moving into town. So high are the heaps of red peppers in baskets that although we are in the province of Musashi, we can well imagine ourselves to be gazing down from the top of Mt. Tatsuta in all its autumnal glory. The wild ducks for sale in Earthenware and Malt Streets appear like black clouds descended to earth. All along Hon-machi Street the drapers display particolored cloth of scattered designs, whose patterns originated alike with warriors’ wives and ladies’ maids. Some depict scenes in springtime, others those in summer, and still others those in autumn and winter. One can enjoy the sights of all the four seasons there at once. Again, in the dry-goods shops of Temma Street the cotton goods remind one of the snow on Yoshino at dawn. When evening comes, lanterns are hung up in shop fronts, casting their light out into the street. New Year’s Eve, the time when merchants make their largest transactions in a single evening, is worth a thousand ryo of gold.
As for tabi and geta, the artisans of Edo habitually wait to purchase them last of all, just before the New Year begins to dawn. But one year it happened that not even a single sock or a solitary shoe was to be found for sale in all of Edo. As might have been anticipated, in the greatest city of Japan the demand was for thousands of pairs. Whereas in the early eve
ning the price of a pair of geta was only seven or eight bu, after midnight it rose to one momme and two or three bu, and by dawn it had soared to two and a half momme. Even at this price, although there would have been buyers, there were no sellers.
Another year, a couple of small porgies were priced at eighteen momme; still another year, a single decorative orange cost two bu. Despite such fancy prices people of Edo did not refrain from buying them. In Kyoto and
Osaka, on the contrary, people won’t buy things even by chance if the price is exhorpitant. It has well been said of Edoites that they are lordly-minded. When narrowminded people who have lived a long time in yoto or Osaka move to Edo, they find themselves so adapting to the spirit of Edo that in time they do not even count their coppers or verify the exact weight of their gold coins.
If by mischance a coin of short weight is taken in, it is merely passed along to the next fellow with no further ado. Since money is forever changing hands anyhow, why make a fuss about it?
On about the 17th or 18th of December in the shops of the money carriers can be seen heaps of silver and gold, shining bright as ever. No one can tell how many times a year that money will be travelling between Edo and Kyoto or Osaka. There’s nothing in the world that works like money. Yet even with all this money, there are still people who have to face the coming of the New Year without a single gold coin in hand-even in Edo.
As regards New Year’s presents, the usual ones are swords (not real ones), kimono, sake, fish, or boxes of candles. Each of them gives promise of a spring that will last forever. Even the gate pines before each home symbolize the first stage in the ascent of that Mount of Everlasting Prosperity. And so, as over the Evergreen Bridge the New Year dawns in a calm and cloudless sky, the sun sheds its beneficent beams over all.
This Scheming World Page 11
