Kunshi . . . by phaedrus: In my life with the boisterous and free-living students, and after I was married, even in associating with various men of the world, I always kept myself within the prescribed limit of the well-behaved man. Yet I was not “puritan” or moralist—I knew quite well the inside life of the hidden quarters of our society. By simply listening to my friends talking together, I could easily learn about things I had never seen. There are people whom we call ''kunshi'', “bigoted saints,” who are good through fear and the stupid inability to act. They, of course, resent the immoral behavior of others who give free play to their desires. These persons complain when no one is present to refute them, but they are too afraid to come near any actual encounter with the less virtuous world. So they go around frowning on life and shunning friendships. On the contrary I never hesitated to talk on any subject with my friends, and often made fun of
WeCannotDoAnythingWithoutPrecedent . . . by phaedrus: Now I was ready to go to Osaka. And in applying for a permit to leave home, I was to use a most ridiculous subterfuge. While my brother was living, I cian could go anywhere at any time with only his sanction, but now that I had become the head of the family with certain duties to the lord, I had to obtain a permit for going “abroad.” I wrote my petition without consulting anyone, for I knew better than to talk to my relatives. When I submitted the petition, the friendly secretary spoke to me privately. “This will not be accepted,” he said gravely, “because in this clan there has not been any precedent of a samurai leaving his duty for the purpose of studying *Ran-gaku* (Dutch learning).” “Then what shall I write?” I inquired. “Well, you might say that your purpose is the study of gunnery. That has a precedent.”
ReligiousEmpiricism . . . by phaedrus: One day when I was twelve or thirteen years old, I ran through the room in one of my mischievous moments and stepped on some papers which my brother was arranging on the floor. Suddenly he broke out in disgust: "Stop, you dunce!" Then he becan to speak solemnly. “Do you not see what is written here?” he said. “Is this not Okudaira Taizen-no Tayū—your lord’s name?” “I did not know it,” I hastily apologized. “I am sorry.” “You say you did not know,” he replied indignantly. “But if you have eyes, you should see. What do you think of trampling your lord’s name under foot? The sacred code of lord and vassal is . . ."
AristocraticAndBourgeoisValues . . . by phaedrus: But I had an entirely opposite opinion. “I should hate to be an adopted son,” I said. “Why should I serve people as parents who are in truth not parents at all?”
AccordingToTheConventionAmongTheWarriorClass . . . by phaedrus: I was always unconcerned with the way of society, and it was my inborn nature to act always in my own way. Since all the samurai of small means kept no servants, they were obliged to go out and do their own shopping. But according to the convention among the warrior class, they were ashamed of being seen handling money. Therefore, it was customary for samurai to wrap their faces with hand-towels and go out after dark whenever they had an errand to do. I hated having a towel on my face and have never worn one. I even used to go out on errands in broad daylight, swinging a wine bottle in one hand, with two swords at my side as became a man of samurai rank. “This is my own money,” I would say to myself. “I did not steal it. What is wrong with buying things with my own money?” Thus, I believe, it was with a boyish pride and conceit that I made light of the mock gentility of my neighbors.
TheFirstShockIReceivedOnComingToTheCity . . . by phaedrus: For any work in metals it is very necessary to have a good file; I had a difficult time in making one for myself. I knew how to make an ordinary file from a steel bar, after a fashion, but the fine file for sharpening saws was beyond my art. Years later, when I first came to Yedo, I was surprised at the sight of a boy, an apprentice to a blacksmith, making a saw-file. I still remember the place. It was at Tamachi on the right-hand side of the street as I entered the city. The boy had the file on a piece of leather on an anvil, and was chiseling away at very fine notches as if he never realized there was any wonder in it. I stopped and watched him, thinking what a great city of industry this must be where even a youngster could make a saw-file such as I myself had never dreamed of making. This was the first shock I received on coming to the city.
NumbersTheToolOfMerchants . . . by phaedrus: My father was really a scholar. And the scholars of the time, different from the Western scholars of today, disdained to spend any thought on money, or even to touch it. My father always longed for a quiet scholarly life with his books and the noble philosophy of the ancient sages. Yet he was forced to attend to the most worldly affairs, for it was his duty as treasury overseer to associate with merchants, and to count money, and to negotiate loans for his lord. Sometimes when his lord was in difficulty, my father had to bargain with the rich men like Kajimaya and Kōnoike of Ōsaka. In this work he was unhappy, and so when it came to bringing up his children, he tried, it seemed to me, to give them what he thought was an ideal education. For instance, he once sent them to a teacher for calligraphy and general education. The teacher lived in the compound of the lord's storage office, but, having some merchants' children among his pupile, he naturally began to train them in numerals: "Two times two is four, two times three is six, etc." This, today, seems a very ordinary thing to teach, but when my father heard this, he took his children away in a fury. "It is abominable," he exclaimed, "that innocent children should be taught to use numbers—the tool of merchants. There is no telling what that teacher may do next."