seeming vulgar. Yu~giri looked so forlorn in his blue robes that Princess
Omiya was angry for him. She demanded an explanation of Genji.
<P 362>
"We need not force him into adult company. I have certain thoughts
in the matter. I think he should go to the university, and so we may think
of the next few years as time out, a vacation from all these promotions.
When he is old enough to be of real service at court it will be soon enough.
I myself grew up at court, always at Father's side. I did not know what the
larger world was like and I learned next to nothing about the classics.
Father himself was my teacher, but there was something inadequate about
my education. What I did learn of the classics and of music and the like
did not have a broad grounding.
"We do not hear in our world of sons who excel inadequate fathers,
and over the generations the prospect becomes one of sad decline. I have
made my decision. A boy of good family moves ahead in rank and office
and basks in the honors they bring. Why, he asks, should he trouble
himself to learn anything? He has his fun, he has his music and other
pleasures, and rank and position seem to come of their own accord. The
underlings of the world praise him to his face and laugh at him behind his
back. This is very well while it lasts--he is the grand gentleman. But
changes come, forces shift. Those who can help themselves do so, and he
is left behind. His affairs fall into a decline and presently nothing is left.
"No, the safe thing is to give him a good, solid fund of knowledge.
It is when there is a fund of Chinese learning that the Japanese spirit is
respected by the world. He may feel dissatisfied for a time, but if we give
him the proper education for a minister of state, then I need not worry
about what will happen after I am gone. He may not be able to spread his
wings for a time, but I doubt that, given the house he comes from, people
will sneer at him as a threadbare clerk."
The princess sighed. "Yes, I suppose you are right. I hadn't thought
things through quite so far. My sons have said that you are being very
strict with him, and he did seem so very forlorn when all the cousins he
has looked down on have moved from blue to brighter colors. I had to feel
sorry for him."
Genji smiled. "He is very grown-up for his age." In fact, he thought
Yu~giri's behavior rather endearing. "But he'll get over it when they've put
a little learning into his head."
<N 3>
The matriculation ceremonies were held in the east lodge at Nijo~, the
east wing of which was fitted out for the occasion. It was a rare event.
Courtiers crowded round to see what a matriculation might be like. The
professors must have been somewhat astonished.
"You are to treat him exactly as the rules demand," said Genji. "Make
no exceptions."
The academic assembly was a strange one, solemn of countenance,
badly fitted in borrowed clothes, utterly humorless of word and manner,
yet given to jostling for place. Some of the younger courtiers were laugh-
ing. Fearing that that would be the case, Genji had insisted that the profes-
<P 363>
sorial cups be kept full by older and better-controlled men. Even so, To~
no Chu~jo~ and Prince Mimbu were reprimanded by the learned gentle-
men.
"Most inadequate, these libation pourers. Do they propose to conduct
the affairs of the land without the advice of the sages? Most inadequate
indeed."
There came gusts of laughter.
"Silence, if you please. Silence is called for Such improprieties are
unheard of. We must ask your withdrawal."
Everyone thought the professors rather fun. For courtiers who had
themselves been to the university the affair was most satisfying. It was
very fine indeed that Genji should see fit to give his son a university
education. The professors put down merriment with a heavy hand and
made unfavorable note of other departures from strict decorum. Yet as the
night wore on, the lamps revealed something a little different, a little
clownish, perhaps, or forlorn, under the austere professorial masks. It was
indeed an unusual assembly.
"I am afraid, sirs, that I am the oaf you should be scolding," said Genji,
withdrawing behind a blind. "I am quite overcome."
Learning that there had not been places enough for all the scholars,
he had a special banquet laid out in the angling pavilion.
<N 4>
He invited the professors and several courtiers of a literary bent to
stay behind and compose Chinese poems. The professors were assigned
stanzas of four couplets, and the amateurs, Genji among them, were al-
lowed to make do with two. The professors assigned titles. Dawn was
coming on when the reading took place, with Sachu~ben the reader. He
was a man of imposing manner and fine looks, and his voice as he read took
on an almost awesome grandeur. Great things were to be expected from
him, everyone said. The poems, all of them interesting, brought in numer-
ous old precedents by way of celebrating so laudable an event, that a
young man born to luxury and glory should choose to make the light of
the firefly his companion, the reflection from the snow his friend. One
would have liked to send them for the delectation of the land across the
sea. They were the talk of the court.
Genji,s poem was particularly fine. His paternal affection showed
through and brought tears from the company. But it would not be seemly
for a woman to speak in detail of these scholarly happenings, and I shall
say no more.
<N 5>
Then came the formal commencement of studies. Genji assigned
rooms in the east lodge, where learned tutors were put at Yu~giri's disposal.
Immersed in his studies, he rarely went to call on his grandmother. He had
<P 364>
been with her since infancy, and Genji feared that she would go on pam-
pering him. Quiet rooms near at hand seemed appropriate. He was permit-
ted to visit Sanjo~ some three times a month.
Shut up with musty books, he did think his father severe. His friends,
subjected to no such trials, were moving happily from rank to rank. He was
a serious lad, however, not given to frivolity, and soon he had resolved that
he would make quick work of the classics and then have his career. Within
a few months he had finished The Grand History.<N 6> Genji conducted mock
examinations with the usual people in attendance, To~ no Chu~jo~, Sadaiben,
Shikibu no Tayu~, Sachu~ben, and the rest. The boy's chief tutor was
invited as well. Yu~giri was asked to read passages from The Grand History
on which he was likely to be challenged. He did so without hesitation,
offering all the variant theories as to the meaning, and leaving no smudgy
question marks behind. Everyone was delighted, and indeed tears of de-
light might have been observed. It had been an outstanding performance,
though not at all unexpected. How he wished, said To~ no Chu~jo~, that the
old chancellor could have been present.
Genji was not completely successful at hiding his pride. "There is a
<P 365>
sad thing that I have more than once witnessed, a father who grows
stupider as his son grows wiser. So here it is happening to me, and I am
not so very old. It is the way of the world." His pleasure and pride were
a rich reward for the tutor.
The drinks which To~ no Chu~jo~ pressed on this gentleman seemed to
make him ever leaner. He was an odd man whose scholarly attainments
had not been put to proper use, and life had not been good to him. Sensing
something unusual in him, Genji had put him in charge of Yu~giri's studies.
These rather overwhelming attentions made him feel that life had begun
again, and no doubt a limitless future seemed to open for him.
<N 7>
On the day of the examination the university gates were jammed with
fine carriages. It was natural that no one, not even people who had no real
part in the proceedings, should wish to be left out. The young candidate
himself, very carefully dressed and surrounded by solicitous retainers, was
so handsome a figure that people were inclined to ask again what he was
doing here. If he looked a little self-conscious taking the lowest seat as the
company assembled, that too was natural. Again stern calls to proper
deportment emerged from the professors, but he read without misstep to
the end.
It was a day to make one think of the university in its finest age.
People high and low now competed to pursue the way of learning, and the
level of official competence rose. Yu~giri got through his other examina-
tions, the literary examination and the rest, with no trouble. He quite
immersed himself in his studies, spurring his tutors to new endeavors.
Genji arranged composition meets at Nijo~ from time to time, to the great
satisfaction of the scholars and poets. It was a day when their abilities were
recognized.
<N 8>
The time had come to name an empress. Genji urged the case of
Akikonomu, reminding everyone of Fujitsubo's wishes for her son. It
would mean another Genji empress, and to that there was opposition.
And To~ no Chu~jo~'s daughter had been the first of the emperor's ladies to
come to court. The outcome of the debate remained in doubt.
Murasaki's father, Prince Hyo~bu, was now a man of importance, the
maternal uncle of the emperor. He had long wanted to send a daughter to
court and at length he had succeeded, and so two of the principal contend-
ers were royal granddaughters. If the choice was to be between them,
people said, then surely the emperor would feel more comfortable with his
mother's niece. He could think of her as a substitute for his mother. But
in the end Akikonomu's candidacy prevailed. There were many remarks
upon the contrast between her fortunes and those of her late mother.
<N 9>
There were promotions, Genji to chancellor and To~ no Chu~jo~ to Min-
ister of the Center. Genji left the everyday conduct of government to his
friend, a most honest and straightforward man who had also a bright side
to his nature. He was very intelligent and he had studied hard. Though he
<P 366>
could not hold his own with Genji in rhyme-guessing contests, he was a
gifted administrator. He had more than a half score of sons by several
ladies, all of them growing or grown and making names for themselves.
It was a good day for his house. He had only one daughter, Kumoinokari,
besides the lady who had gone to court. It could not have been said, since
her mother came from the royal family, that she was the lesser of the two
daughters, but the mother had since married the Lord Inspector and had
a large family of her own. Not wishing to leave the girl with her stepfather,
To~ no Chu~jo~ had brought her to Sanjo~ and there put her in Princess
Omiya's custody. Though he paid a good deal more attention to the other
daughter, Kumoinokari wag a pretty and amiable child. She and Yu~giri
grew up like brother and sister in Princess Omiya's apartments. To~ no
Chu~jo~ separated them when they reached the age of ten or so. He knew
that they were fond of each other, he said, but the girl was now too old
to have male playmates. Yu~giri continued to think of her, in his boyish
way, and he was careful to notice her when the flowers and grasses of the
passing seasons presented occasions, or when he came upon something for
her dollhouses. She was not at all shy in his presence. They were so young,
said her nurses, and they had been together so long. Why must the minis-
ter tear them apart? Yet one had to grant him a point in suspecting that,
despite appearances, they might no longer be children.
In any event the separation upset them. Their letters, childish but
showing great promise, were always falling into the wrong hands, for they
were as yet not very skilled managers. But if some of her women knew
what was going on, they saw no need to tell tales.
The round of congratulatory banquets was over. In the quiet that
followed, To~ no Chu~jo~ came visiting his mother. It was an evening of chilly
showers and the wind sent a sad rustling through the reeds. He summoned
Kumoinokari for a lesson on the koto. Princess Omiya, a fine musician, was
the girl's teacher.
"A lady is not perhaps seen at her most graceful when she is playing
the lute, but the sound is rather wonderful. You do not often hear a good
lute these days. Let me see now." And he named this prince and that
commoner who were good lutists. "I have heard from the chancellor that
the lady he has out in the country is a very good hand at it. She comes from
a line of musicians, but the family is not what it once was, and she has been
away for a very long time. It is surprising that she should be so good. He
does seem to have a high regard for her, to judge from the way he is always
talking about her. Music is not like other things. It requires company and
concerts and a familiarity with all the styles. You do not often hear of a
self-taught musician." He urged a lute upon his mother.
"I don't even know where to put the bridge any more. " Yet she took
the instrument and played very commendably indeed." The lady you
mention would seem to have a great deal to distinguish her besides her
good luck. She gave him the daughter he has always wanted. He was afraid
the daughter would be handicapped by a rustic mother, they tell me, and
<P 367>
gave her to a lady of quite unassailable position. I hear that she is a little
jewel." She had put the instrument down.
"Yes, you are right, of course. It was more than luck that got her where
she is. But sometimes things don't seem entirely fair. I cannot think of any
respect in which the girl I sent to court is inferior to her rivals, and I gave
her every skill she could possibly need to hold her own. And all of a sudden
someone emerges from an unexpected quarter and overtakes her. I hope
