The Romance of the Milky Way Part 9

Is it true, as some would have us believe, that the fear of the extinction of self is the terror supreme?... For the thought of personal perpetuity in the infinite vortex is enough to evoke sudden trepidations that no tongue can utter,--fugitive instants of a horror too vast to enter wholly into consciousness: a horror that can be endured in swift black glimpsings only. And the trust that we are one with the Absolute--dim points of thrilling in the abyss of It--can prove a consoling faith only to those who find themselves obliged to think that consciousness dissolves with the crumbling of the brain....

It seems to me that few (or none) dare to utter frankly those stupendous doubts and fears which force mortal intelligence to recoil upon itself at every fresh attempt to pa.s.s the barrier of the Knowable. Were that barrier unexpectedly pushed back,--were knowledge to be suddenly and vastly expanded beyond its present limits,--perhaps we should find ourselves unable to endure the revelation....

Mr. Percival Lowell's astonis.h.i.+ng book, "Mars," sets one to thinking about the results of being able to hold communication with the habitants of an older and a wiser world,--some race of beings more highly evolved than we, both intellectually and morally, and able to interpret a thousand mysteries that still baffle our science. Perhaps, in such event, we should not find ourselves able to comprehend the methods, even could we borrow the results, of wisdom older than all our civilization by myriads or hundreds of myriads of years. But would not the sudden advent of larger knowledge from some elder planet prove for us, by reason, of the present moral condition of mankind, nothing less than a catastrophe?--might it not even result in the extinction of the human species?...

The rule seems to be that the dissemination of dangerous higher knowledge, before the ma.s.ses of a people are ethically prepared to receive it, will always be prevented by the conservative instinct; and we have reason to suppose (allowing for individual exceptions) that the power to gain higher knowledge is developed only as the moral ability to profit by such knowledge is evolved. I fancy that if the power of holding intellectual converse with other worlds could now serve us, we should presently obtain it. But if, by some astonis.h.i.+ng chance,--as by the discovery, let us suppose, of some method of ether-telegraphy,--this power were prematurely acquired, its exercise would in all probability be prohibited.... Imagine, for example, what would have happened during the Middle Ages to the person guilty of discovering means to communicate with the people of a neighboring planet! a.s.suredly that inventor and his apparatus and his records would have been burned; every trace and memory of his labors would have been extirpated. Even to-day the sudden discovery of truths unsupported by human experience, the sudden revelation of facts totally opposed to existing convictions, might evoke some frantic revival of superst.i.tious terrors,--some religious panic-fury that would strangle science, and replunge the world in mental darkness for a thousand years.

THE MIRROR MAIDEN

In the period of the As.h.i.+kaga Sh[=o]gunate the shrine of Ogawachi-My[=o]jin, at Minami-Ise, fell into decay; and the daimy[=o]

of the district, the Lord Kitahatake, found himself unable, by reason of war and other circ.u.mstances, to provide for the reparation of the building. Then the s.h.i.+nt[=o] priest in charge, Matsumura Hy[=o]go, sought help at Ky[=o]to from the great daimy[=o] Hosokawa, who was known to have influence with the Sh[=o]gun. The Lord Hosokawa received the priest kindly, and promised to speak to the Sh[=o]gun about the condition of Ogawachi-My[=o]jin. But he said that, in any event, a grant for the restoration of the temple could not be made without due investigation and considerable delay; and he advised Matsumura to remain in the capital while the matter was being arranged. Matsumura therefore brought his family to Ky[=o]to, and rented a house in the old Ky[=o]goku quarter.

This house, although handsome and s.p.a.cious, had been long unoccupied.

It was said to be an unlucky house. On the northeast side of it there was a well; and several former tenants had drowned themselves in that well, without any known cause. But Matsumura, being a s.h.i.+nt[=o]

priest, had no fear of evil spirits; and he soon made himself very comfortable in his new home.

In the summer of that year there was a great drought. For months no rain had fallen in the Five Home-Provinces; the river-beds dried up, the wells failed; and even in the capital there was a dearth of water. But the well in Matsumura's garden remained nearly full; and the water--which was very cold and clear, with a faint bluish tinge--seemed to be supplied by a spring. During the hot season many people came from all parts of the city to beg for water; and Matsumura allowed them to draw as much as they pleased. Nevertheless the supply did not appear to be diminished.

But one morning the dead body of a young servant, who had been sent from a neighboring residence to fetch water, was found floating in the well. No cause for a suicide could be imagined; and Matsumura, remembering many unpleasant stories about the well, began to suspect some invisible malevolence. He went to examine the well, with the intention of having a fence built around it; and while standing there alone he was startled by a sudden motion in the water, as of something alive. The motion soon ceased; and then he perceived, clearly reflected in the still surface, the figure of a young woman, apparently about nineteen or twenty years of age. She seemed to be occupied with her toilet: he distinctly saw her touching her lips with _beni_[67] At first her face was visible in profile only; but presently she turned towards him and smiled. Immediately he felt a strange shock at his heart, and a dizziness came upon him like the dizziness of wine, and everything became dark, except that smiling face,--white and beautiful as moonlight, and always seeming to grow more beautiful, and to be drawing him down--down--down into the darkness. But with a desperate effort he recovered his will and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the face was gone, and the light had returned; and he found himself leaning down over the curb of the well. A moment more of that dizziness,--a moment more of that dazzling lure,--and he would never again have looked upon the sun...

[Footnote 67: A kind of rouge, now used only to color the lips.]

Returning to the house, he gave orders to his people not to approach the well under any circ.u.mstances, or allow any person to draw water from it. And the next day he had a strong fence built round the well.

About a week after the fence had been built, the long drought was broken by a great rain-storm, accompanied by wind and lightning and thunder,--thunder so tremendous that the whole city shook to the rolling of it, as if shaken by an earthquake. For three days and three nights the downpour and the lightnings and the thunder continued; and the Kamogawa rose as it had never risen before, carrying away many bridges. During the third night of the storm, at the Hour of the Ox, there was heard a knocking at the door of the priest's dwelling, and the voice of a woman pleading for admittance. But Matsumura, warned by his experience at the well, forbade his servants to answer the appeal.

He went himself to the entrance, and asked,--

"Who calls?"

A feminine voice responded:--

"Pardon! it is I,--Yayoi![68]... I have something to say to Matsumura Sama,--something of great moment. Please open!"...

[Footnote 68: This name, though uncommon, is still in use.]

Matsumura half opened the door, very cautiously; and he saw the same beautiful face that had smiled upon him from the well. But it was not smiling now: it had a very sad look.

"Into my house you shall not come," the priest exclaimed. "You are not a human being, but a Well-Person.... Why do you thus wickedly try to delude and destroy people?"

The Well-Person made answer in a voice musical as a tinkling of jewels (_tama-wo-korogasu-koe_.):--

"It is of that very matter that I want to speak.... I have never wished to injure human beings. But from ancient time a Poison-Dragon dwelt in that well. He was the Master of the Well; and because of him the well was always full. Long ago I fell into the water there, and so became subject to him; and he had power to make me lure people to death, in order that he might drink their blood. But now the Heavenly Ruler has commanded the Dragon to dwell hereafter in the lake called Torii-no-Ike, in the Province of s.h.i.+nsh[=u]; and the G.o.ds have decided that he shall never be allowed to return to this city. So to-night, after he had gone away, I was able to come out, to beg for your kindly help. There is now very little water in the well, because of the Dragon's departure; and if you will order search to be made, my body will be found there. I pray you to save my body from the well without delay; and I shall certainly return your benevolence."...

So saying, she vanished into the night.

Before dawn the tempest had pa.s.sed; and when the sun arose there was no trace of cloud in the pure blue sky. Matsumura sent at an early hour for well-cleaners to search the well. Then, to everybody's surprise, the well proved to be almost dry. It was easily cleaned; and at the bottom of it were found some hair-ornaments of a very ancient fas.h.i.+on, and a metal mirror of curious form--but no trace of any body, animal or human.

Matusmura imagined, however, that the mirror might yield some explanation of the mystery; for every such mirror is a weird thing, having a soul of its own,--and the soul of a mirror is feminine. This mirror, which seemed to be very old, was deeply crusted with scurf.

But when it had been carefully cleaned, by the priest's order, it proved to be of rare and costly workmans.h.i.+p; and there were wonderful designs upon the back of it,--also several characters. Some of the characters had become indistinguishable; but there could still be discerned part of a date, and ideographs signifying, "_third month, the third day_." Now the third month used to be termed _Yayoi_ (meaning, the Month of Increase); and the third day of the third month, which is a festival day, is still called _Yayoi-no-sekku_.

Remembering that the Well-Person called herself "Yayoi," Matsumura felt almost sure that his ghostly visitant had been none other than the Soul of the Mirror.

He therefore resolved to treat the mirror with all the consideration due to a Spirit. After having caused it to be carefully repolished and resilvered, he had a case of precious wood made for it, and a particular room in the house prepared to receive it. On the evening of the same day that it had been respectfully deposited in that room, Yayoi herself unexpectedly appeared before the priest as he sat alone in his study. She looked even more lovely than before; but the light of her beauty was now soft as the light of a summer moon s.h.i.+ning through pure white clouds. After having humbly saluted Matsumura, she said in her sweetly tinkling voice:--

"Now that you have saved me from solitude and sorrow, I have come to thank you.... I am indeed, as you supposed, the Spirit of the Mirror.

It was in the time of the Emperor Saimei that I was first brought here from Kudara; and I dwelt in the august residence until the time of the Emperor Saga, when I was augustly bestowed upon the Lady Kamo, Nais.h.i.+nn[=o] of the Imperial Court.[69] Thereafter I became an heirloom in the House of Fuji-wara, and so remained until the period of H[=o]gen, when I was dropped into the well. There I was left and forgotten during the years of the great war.[70] The Master of the Well[71] was a venomous Dragon, who used to live in a lake that once covered a great part of this district. After the lake had been filled in, by government order, in order that houses might be built upon the place of it, the Dragon took possession of the well; and when I fell into the well I became subject to him; and he compelled me to lure many people to their deaths. But the G.o.ds have banished him forever.... Now I have one more favor to beseech: I entreat that you will cause me to be offered up to the Sh[=o]gun, the Lord Yos.h.i.+masa, who by descent is related to my former possessors. Do me but this last great kindness, and it will bring you good-fortune.... But I have also to warn you of a danger. In this house, after to-morrow, you must not stay, because it will be destroyed."... And with these words of warning Yayoi disappeared.

[Footnote 69: The Emperor Saimei reigned from 655 to 662 (A.D.); the Emperor Saga from 810 to 842.--Kudara was an ancient kingdom in southwestern Korea, frequently mentioned in early j.a.panese history.--A _Nais.h.i.+nn[=o]_ was of Imperial blood. In the ancient court-hierarchy there were twenty-five ranks or grades of n.o.ble ladies;--that of _Nais.h.i.+nno_ was seventh in order of precedence.]

[Footnote 70: For centuries the wives of the emperors and the ladies of the Imperial Court were chosen from the Fujiwara clan--The period called H[=o]gen lasted from 1156 to 1159: the war referred to is the famous war between the Taira and Minamoto clans.]

[Footnote 71: In old-time belief every lake or spring had its invisible guardian, supposed to sometimes take the form of a serpent or dragon. The spirit of a lake or pond was commonly spoken of as _Ike-no-Mus.h.i.+_, the Master of the Lake. Here we find the t.i.tle "Master" given to a dragon living in a well; but the guardian of wells is really the G.o.d Suijin.]

Matsumura was able to profit by this premonition. He removed his people and his belongings to another district the next day; and almost immediately afterwards another storm arose, even more violent than the first, causing a flood which swept away the house in which he had been residing.

Some time later, by favor of the Lord Hosokawa, Matsumura was enabled to obtain an audience of the Sh[=o]gun Yos.h.i.+masa, to whom he presented the mirror, together with a written account of its wonderful history.

Then the prediction of the Spirit of the Mirror was fulfilled; for the Sh[=o]gun, greatly pleased with this strange gift, not only bestowed costly presents upon Matsumura, but also made an ample grant of money for the rebuilding of the Temple of Ogawachi-My[=o]jin.

THE STORY OF IT[=O] NORISUKe

In the town of Uji, in the province of Yamas.h.i.+ro, there lived, about six hundred years ago, a young samurai named It[=o] Tatewaki Norisuke, whose ancestors were of the Heke clan. It[=o] was of handsome person and amiable character, a good scholar and apt at arms. But his family were poor; and he had no patron among the military n.o.bility,--so that his prospects were small. He lived in a very quiet way, devoting himself to the study of literature, and having (says the j.a.panese story-teller) "only the Moon and the Wind for friends."

One autumn evening, as he was taking a solitary walk in the neighborhood of the hill called Kotobikiyama, he happened to overtake a young girl who was following the same path. She was richly dressed, and seemed to be about eleven or twelve years old. It[=o] greeted her, and said, "The sun will soon be setting, damsel, and this is rather a lonesome place. May I ask if you have lost your way?" She looked up at him with a bright smile, and answered deprecatingly: "Nay! I am a _miya-dzukai_,[72] serving in this neighborhood; and I have only a little way to go."

[Footnote 72: August-residence servant.]

By her use of the term _miya-dzukai_, It[=o] knew that the girl must be in the service of persons of rank; and her statement surprised him, because he had never heard of any family of distinction residing in that vicinity. But he only said: "I am returning to Uji, where my home is. Perhaps you will allow me to accompany you on the way, as this is a very lonesome place." She thanked him gracefully, seeming pleased by his offer; and they walked on together, chatting as they went. She talked about the weather, the flowers, the b.u.t.terflies, and the birds; about a visit that she had once made to Uji, about the famous sights of the capital, where she had been born;--and the moments pa.s.sed pleasantly for It[=o], as he listened to her fresh prattle. Presently, at a turn in the road, they entered a hamlet, densely shadowed by a grove of young trees.

[Here I must interrupt the story to tell you that, without having actually seen them, you cannot imagine how dark some j.a.panese country villages remain even in the brightest and hottest weather. In the neighborhood of T[=o]ky[=o] itself there are many villages of this kind. At a short distance from such a settlement you see no houses: nothing is visible but a dense grove of evergreen trees. The grove, which is usually composed of young cedars and bamboos, serves to shelter the village from storms, and also to supply timber for various purposes. So closely are the trees planted that there is no room to pa.s.s between the trunks of them: they stand straight as masts, and mingle their crests so as to form a roof that excludes the sun. Each thatched cottage occupies a clear s.p.a.ce in the plantation, the trees forming a fence about it, double the height of the building. Under the trees it is always twilight, even at high noon; and the houses, morning or evening, are half in shadow. What makes the first impression of such a village almost disquieting is, not the transparent gloom, which has a certain weird charm of its own, but the stillness. There may be fifty or a hundred dwellings; but you see n.o.body; and you hear no sound but the twitter of invisible birds, the occasional crowing of c.o.c.ks, and the shrilling of cicadae. Even the cicadae, however, find these groves too dim, and sing faintly; being sun-lovers, they prefer the trees outside the village. I forgot to say that you may sometimes hear a viewless shuttle--_chaka-ton, chaka-ton_;--but that familiar sound, in the great green silence, seems an elfish happening. The reason of the hush is simply that the people are not at home. All the adults, excepting some feeble elders, have gone to the neighboring fields, the women carrying their babies on their backs; and most of the children have gone to the nearest school, perhaps not less than a mile away. Verily, in these dim hushed villages, one seems to behold the mysterious perpetuation of conditions recorded in the texts of Kw.a.n.g-Tze:--

"_The ancients who had the nourishment of the world wished for nothing, and the world had enough:--they did nothing, and all things were transformed:--their stillness was abysmal, and the people were all composed._"]