My Benefactor’s Noble Offer.
That day I returned to the Treasury Minister’s with a determination to
tell the secret to him. But it was the 22nd of May and the Pope was to
come back to Lhasa from his country-seat at Norbu Ling. The ex-Minister
had gone out to see the Pope return, and I was also obliged to go,
though I had many things to do for myself. The procession of the day
was magnificent. The four Prime Ministers and the Ministers of several
departments and other dignitaries were present, all dressed in new
suits of clothes. But before the Pope arrived in Lhasa it had begun to
rain heavily. Still no one but the servants and coachmen were allowed
to wear anything to protect themselves against the rain. It was a
pitiful sight to see the dignitaries dressed in silk on horse-back in
the rain, getting wet through. But when the procession marched along
the streets of Lhasa and the Pope entered his temple, the storm had
passed, and it was fine again. When we got home I asked the ex-Minister
and the nun to stay at home that evening, for I was going to tell them
a secret which must not be spoken in the presence of others. The nun
had treated me with motherly tenderness, and though we had been friends
only for one year, yet our acquaintance seemed age-long, and I felt I
ought to tell my secret to her and the ex-Minister, to whom I owed so
much. It was certain that I must leave Lhasa, but how could I leave
them without telling them all?
When night came, I called on them at the appointed time and told them
that I was not a Chinese but a Japanese. Thinking, however, that they
would not believe me I set before them the passport which I had taken
with me. As the ex-Minister had learned to read Chinese characters a
little, he could read that part of the paper signed “Department for
Foreign Affairs of the Japanese Empire” in Chinese characters. Assuring
himself that I had told the truth, he said:
[Illustration: REVEALING THE SECRET TO THE EX-MINISTER.]
“At first I thought you were a Chinese as you said, but later I became
very doubtful, because among the many Chinese I have met, there is
none who equals you in earnestness of devotion to Buḍḍhism. I have
also often thought that most of the Chinese priests are ignorant of
the Buḍḍhist religion, and that even the so-called learned and famous
priests do not amount to much, but that the district of Foochee, from
which you said you came, might be an exception, and that Buḍḍhism might
be studied there with much zeal. Anyhow I thought it strange, but now
my doubts have been removed.
“But I heard,” he continued after a pause, “that the Japanese are of
the same race as the Europeans. Is it really so?”
I explained that they were entirely different races and that the
Japanese belong to the same stock of races as the Tibetan, which is
called the Mongolian. I also told him that the religion of the two
countries is the same. It seemed he knew such things as these without
waiting my explanation.
After a few such questions and answers he said, “Is that all that you
call your secret? Is there anything else to tell me?”
I answered: “There is another thing. I think I must tell the Papal
Government that I am a Japanese.”
When he heard me say this he frowned a little, and said, “Why must you
talk? Is there any necessity for doing so?”
I replied that there was, and told him how my secret had been betrayed
by Tsa Rong-ba, and how it had been told to the Pope’s brother, and
so forth. But I did not say anything about the silent contemplation,
because if I told it they would possibly have thought that I was
anxious to leave for India without caring for their future, though my
judgment said that my departure would cause no great harm to them.
He considered in silence for some time after I had finished my story,
and then he said: “What are you going to do next?”
“As I have come to this country,” said I, “after so much trouble, I
wish to inform the Pope that I am a Japanese, and here is the letter to
the Pope written for that purpose.”
I took out the letter from my pocket and handed it to the ex-Minister,
and continued:
“It is no difficult thing to present it to the Pope, but in doing so I
must consider whether you might suffer from it, for you have been my
friends and patrons for a long time. Therefore please bind me with a
rope, take me to the court and tell the officers that you have found
out that I am a foreigner. If you do so, you are surely free from
trouble. As to myself, I will explain to the Government the causes of
my intrusion into this country.”
While I was speaking thus the frowns on his face had increased, and
when I concluded he interrupted:
“That will not do, my Japanese friend. If you take such a measure you
will certainly be taken to prison, where you will die of hunger and
cold, and if you don’t die of such causes you will be killed. Of course
the Government will not sentence a foreigner to death, but then they
can procure the same effect by using poison in secret. You have no need
to hasten your destruction. What is the use of killing yourself?”
I was somewhat surprised to hear of such awful means to be used in the
Tibetan jail, but I replied:
“It is of no use for me to succeed if my success is gained by the loss
of others; it is far better to die and do others no harm. I shall not
fly from danger and allow my benefactors to suffer, who have shown me
as much kindness as parents show to their children.”
The affectionate old woman, who was listening to me with a sorrowful
face and trembling limbs, could not bear any more, and threw herself
down and wept bitterly.
Then the ex-Minister spoke to me in a determined tone: “It will never
do to allow such a noble mind to die in order that we who are not far
from the grave should survive. Though humble, I believe truly in the
Buḍḍha, and cannot do such an action as to sacrifice a man to save
myself. I know you too well to take you for a spy, or for a thief of
the national religion. I know it from my long intercourse with you.
Even I were to be killed for it, I could not rid myself of danger by
persecuting a man who came here to study Buḍḍhism. How could I do such
a thing? But now, in the present state of things in Tibet, it is not a
good opportunity to disclose your nationality. Therefore return home
for this time, and wait till the time will come. I am a brother and
disciple of Ganden Ti Rinpoche, from whom I received the lesson of the
‘Great Benevolence.’ I cannot expose you to death while I myself escape
from calamity. If we are to suffer after your departure, we must take
it as due to a cause existing in a previous life, and resign ourselves.”
Saying this, he turned to the old nun and said:
“Don’t you think so too, my beloved Ningje Ise (mercy and wisdom)?”
The nun raised her face and said in a pleasant voice: “You have said
the truth. How glad I am to hear it!” Then turning to me she said:
“As you are in danger, leave this country as quickly as you can. We can
find some means of protecting ourselves; therefore it is better for you
to cease thinking of us, and to start directly. Now is the best time to
steal out of the city, for the visit of the second Pope will keep the
city busy for this whole month, and no one will notice your departure.
No better opportunity can be found. If it were on an ordinary day,
you could not run away even though you were free from suspicion, for
Lamenba--the chief physician to the Pope--wishes to keep you long in
this country, and has already spoken to the Pope about it. Lose no time
in preparing for the journey. This is my sincere advice.”
As she spoke thus I observed tears in her eyes.