en, 'The lifelong duty of women is obedience. Seeing that it is a
girl's destiny on reaching womanhood to go to a new home and live in
submission to her mother-in-law, it is incumbent upon her to reverence
her parents' and elders' instruction at the peril of her life.'"

"But," I remarked, "there is something like two centuries between your
granddaughter and this unreasonable book. Its antiquated laws are as
withered as the dead needles of a pine tree. Any one reading it would
know that when old man Kaibara wrote it he was not feeling well or had
quarreled with his cook."

In most things Kishimoto San was just; in many things he was kind. But
he was as utterly devoid of humor as a pumpkin is of champagne. Without
a flicker he went on. "Dead these sacred laws may be in practice, but
the great spirit of them must live, else man in this land will cease to
be master in his own house; the peace of our homes will pass. Also, does
not your own holy book write plainly on this subject of obedience of
women and children?"

Kishimoto San was a good fighter for what he believed was right, and as
a warrior for his cause he had armed himself in every possible way. He
had a passable knowledge of English and an amazing familiarity with the
Scriptures. He also possessed a knack of interpreting any phase of it to
strengthen the argument from his standpoint. But I, too, could fight
for ideals; love of freedom and the divine right of the individual were
themes as dear to me as they were hateful to Kishimoto San. It had
occurred many times before, and we always argued in a circular process.
Neither of us had ever given in.

But this night Kishimoto San gave me as a last shot: "The confusion of
your religion is, it boasts only one God and numberless creeds. Each
creed claims superiority. This brings inharmony and causes Christians to
snap at each other like a pack of wolves. We have many gods and only one
creed. We have knowledge and enlightenment which finally lead to
Nirvana."

I could always let my friend have the last word but one. I now asked him
if he could deny the enlightenment of which he boasted led as often to
despair as it did to Nirvana. If his knowledge were so all-inclusive,
why had it failed to suggest some path up or down which he could
peacefully lead Zura Wingate?

Before he could answer I offered him a cup of tea, hoping it would cool
him off, and asked him to tell me his special grievance.

He said it was the cus