"Pray listen 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. Although,
if the adopted son turned out honest and dutiful, and inherited our
property, all would be well; still, 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 out old
familiar village as beggars, seek for our lost boy on foot. This is my
fervent wish. During fifty years that we have lived together, this has
been the only favour 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."
So she spoke, sobbing aloud. The relations, who heard this, looked
round at one another, and watched the father to see what he would do;
and he (who knows with what thoughts in his head?) put back the seal
into the leather purse, and quickly drew the strings together, and
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 the 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. But 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
roadside. There our bodies shall be manure for the trees of the
avenue. And all this we will endure cheerfully, and not utter 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 tears 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.
You see how bewildered parents must be by their love for their
children, to be so merciful towards them. As a cat carrying her young
in her mouth screens it from the sun at one time and brings it under
the light at another, so parents act by their children, screening
their bad points and bringing out in relief their good qualities. They
care neither for the abuse of others, nor for their duties to their
ancestors, nor for the wretched future in store for themselves.
Carried away by their infatuation for their children, and intoxicated
upon intoxication, the hearts of parents are to be pitied for their
pitifulness. It is not only the two parents in my story who are in
this plight; the hearts of all parents of children all over the world
are the same. In the poems of the late learned Ishida it is written,
"When I look round me and see the hearts of parents bewildered by
their love for their children, I reflect that my own father and mother
must be like them." This is certainly a true saying.
To return to the story: the halo of his parents' great kindness and
pity penetrated the very bowels of the prodigal son. What an admirable
thing! When he heard it, terrible and sly devil as 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. What says the verse of
the reverend priest Eni? "To shed tears of gratitude one knows not
why." A very pretty poem indeed! So then the vagabond son, in his
gratitude to his parents, could neither stand nor sit. You see the
original heart of man is by nature bright virtue, but by our selfish
pursuit of our own inclinations the brilliancy of our original virtue
is hidden.
To continue: 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? The clouds were
all dispelled, and from the bottom of his soul there sprang the desire
to thank his parents for their goodness. We all know the story of the
rush-cutter who saw the moon rising between the trees on a moorland
hill so brightly, that he fancied it must have been scoured with the
scouring-rush which grew near the spot. When a man, who has been
especially wicked, repents and returns to his original heart, he
becomes all the more excellent, and his brightness is as that of the
rising moon scoured. What an admirable thing this is! So the son
thought to enter the room at once and beg his parents' forgiveness;
but he thought 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 beg 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, he addressed
the relations and said, "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, I
somehow or other 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 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; but, although they were on
the point of leaving the house, had remained behind, sadly out of
harmony; 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 their son even had he not
repented, how much the more when they heard what he said did they weep
for joy; and the relations, delighted at the happy event, exhorted the
son to become really dutiful; and so that night's council broke up. So
this son in the turn of a hand became a pious son, and the way in
which he served his parents 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 noble spectacles and investigated the case, appointed
the son to be the head man of his village. You may judge by this what
this son's filial piety effected. Three years after these events, his
mother, who was on her death-bed, very sick, called for him and said,
"When some time since the consultation was being held about
disinheriting you, by some means or other your heart was turned, and
since then you have been a dutiful son above all others. If at that
time you had not repented, and I had died in the meanwhile, my soul
would have gone to hell without fail, because of my foolish conduct
towards you. But, now that you have repented, there is nothing that
weighs upon me, and there can be no mistake about my going to
paradise. So the fact of my becoming one of the saints will all be the
work of your filial piety." And the story goes, that with these words
the mother, lifting up her hands in prayer, died.
To be sure, by the deeds of the present life we may obtain a glimpse
into the future. If a man's heart is troubled by his misdeeds in this
life, it will again be tortured in the next. The troubled heart is
hell. The heart at rest is paradise. The trouble or peace of parents
depends upon their children. If their children are virtuous, parents
are as the saints: if their children are wicked, parents suffer the
tortures of the damned. If once your youthful spirits, in a fit of
heedlessness, have led you to bring trouble upon your parents and
cause them to weep, just consider the line of argument which I have
been following. From this time forth repent and examine your own
hearts. If you will become dutiful, your parents from this day will
live happy as the saints. But if you will not repent, but persist in
your evil ways, your parents will suffer the pains of hell. Heaven and
hell are matters of repentance or non-repentance. Repentance is the
finding of the lost heart, and is also the object of learning. I shall
speak to you further upon this point to-morrow evening.