“As you know I have rebuilt and decorated the Zuiganji Temple in this
vicinity, but it still remains without a Superior. I desire to entrust
it to a holy and learned man who will carry on its ancient traditions
as a seat of piety. Tell me, who is the greatest priest of the day?”
“Ungo-Zenji, High Priest of the Ungoji Temple in Kyoto is undoubtedly
the greatest priest of the day,” came the unanimous reply.
So Masamuné decided to offer the vacant post to the holy Ungo-Daizenji,
but as the priest in question was a favourite at Court, and enjoyed the
confidence of the Emperor, it was necessary that His Majesty should
first be approached before anything was said to the Zenji. Masamuné
tendered his petition in due form and as a personal favour to himself.
The Emperor who retained a warm affection for the retired statesman,
readily assented, and thus it came about that Ungo-Zenji was appointed
Head of the Zuiganji Temple in the beautiful district of Matsushima.
On the seventh day after his installation, Masamuné paid a formal call
at the Zuiganji to welcome the new arrival. He was ushered into the
private guest-room of the Zenji which was at the moment unoccupied.
On turning to the alcove his attention was at once arrested by the
sight of an old garden _geta_ placed on a valuable stand of elaborate
and costly workmanship.
“What celebrated personage has used that _geta_?” said the astonished
Masamuné to himself. “But surely it is a breach of etiquette to
decorate a room with such a lowly article when about to receive a
daimio of my standing! However, the priest has doubtless some purpose
in allowing so strange an infringement of good manners.”
At that moment the sliding doors opened noiselessly, and a venerable
man in full canonicals and bearing a holy brush of long white hair in
his hand, came in. His immobile face was that of an ascetic but marred
by a disfiguring scar on his forehead between the eyes.
Ungo-Zenji, for he it was, seated himself opposite his guest and
putting both hands, palm downwards, on the mats bowed several times in
respectful greeting, Masamuné returning the courtesy with due ceremony.
When the salutations were over, Masamuné could no longer restrain his
curiosity.
“Your Reverence,” he began, “in compliance with my earnest request you
have condescended to come down to this insignificant place to take
charge of our temple. I am profoundly impressed by your goodness
and know not how to thank you. I am a plain man and unskilled in words.
But, your Reverence, there are two things which puzzle me, and though
at this our first interview you may deem it a want of good breeding to
be so inquisitive, may I ask you to explain the place of honour given
to a garden _geta_, and the scar on your brow that accords so ill with
your reputation for saintliness?”
[Illustration: “May I ask you to explain the place of honour given to a
garden _geta_?”]
At these words, poured out with the impetuosity he remembered in
Masamuné as a young man, the priest smiled a little. Then he withdrew
to the lower end of the apartment and with tears glistening in his
sunken eyes, said:—
“How rejoiced I am to see your face again. To gaze upon your unchanged
features reminds me of the days of my long past youth.”
“What, your words are strange! How can I remind you of your youth,
when, to my knowledge, we never met till this day?”
“My lord, have patience, and I will explain all,” replied the Zenji.
“In those days I was but a servant—a sandal-bearer known as Makabé
Heishiro—it is not likely so humble an individual would retain a
place in your memory. It was when you were residing at the Castle of
Osaki....”
He paused, but Masamuné, too amazed to utter a word, only looked
intently at his former servant as if trying to recall having ever seen
him before.
So Ungo-Zenji went on with his story, and in detail told all that had
befallen him since that snowy day more than thirty years before. He did
not spare himself, but told how through all those years he had been
actuated by a feeling of revenge and revenge only, and how the thought
of some day seeing his enemy in the dust had been the spur to goad him
on to conquer all difficulties, to surmount every obstacle.
“At length,” concluded the priest, “I came under the notice of the
Emperor who so magnified a trifling service that he loaded me with
rewards and marks of favour. ‘Now is my time!’ I thought. But to my own
astonishment I found that so vile a passion no longer existed in my
nature—the desire for revenge had fled. I began to view the affair in
a different light, and to look upon you as my benefactor. But for you
I should still be a sandal-bearer—but for you the stores of knowledge
at my command would never have come within my reach—but for you the
intercourse I have had with the illustrious and sage men of two
countries would have been an impossibility. Therefore, my hatred is
turned to gratitude, my wish for vengeance to a heartfelt desire for
your long life and prosperity. I pray daily that some day I may be
enabled in some small measure to requite the inestimable benefits I owe
to you. Your lordship now understands why I so treasure an old _geta_,
and how it is I bear this ugly scar on my brow.”
Masamuné listened to the narrative with growing wonder and the deepest
attention. At its conclusion he rose and taking the Zenji by both hands
gently, but forcibly, drew him to the upper end of the apartment. When
both were again seated he spoke.
“Your Reverence,” he said in a voice full of emotion. “What you have
just told me quite puts me out of countenance. I can just recall the
incident of which you speak and I remember how angry I felt at what in
my arrogance I deemed a gross insult. I do not wonder at your desire
for revenge, but, that you should renounce the triumph that was yours
for the asking—that, indeed, amazes me! Such magnanimity is almost
incredible! You prove to me that religion is not the empty abstraction
some call it, and I humbly beg your pardon for my past offence, and
request you to enrol me as one of your disciples.”
In this way, Masamuné who was of a frank and noble disposition repented
of the fault committed in his youth, and the sandal-bearer achieved a
greater victory than he could have boasted of had he caused his enemy
to die a shameful death.
A hearty friendship sprang up between the two generous minded men, and
till death parted them many years later they saw much of each other
and their affection grew. The priest was always a welcome guest at the
Castle, while with earnest piety, Masamuné prosecuted his studies in
sacred lore under the guidance of Ungo-Zenji.