the people. I think I have no right whatever to tell his secret to English readers.

I take much interest in all questions, political as well as social; my Orientalism did not interfere with my enthusiasm over the Woman Suffragists. I rarely missed reading in the papers the witty saying or clever repartee which overflows from the debates in the Houses and the speeches on the platform, and many of them are stamped deeply on my mind. I could not imagine before that the English freedom of speech had such a full meaning; it is clear that it was an evidence of English fearlessness in facing the problems of humanity and justice. If the English people are loyal toward their king, that is not because he happens to sit upon the throne, but because he is a powerful defender of righteousness and the people.

And again I will say that if they love their own country it is only from their unshakeable belief that she is the first country of the world. I frequently thought it was rather silly for them to put that eternally same "first in the world" in this and that. Is it not, I wonder, the most dangerous superstition of all superstitions? While I admit that their belief in "first in the world" has greatly helped to make the country really the

first in the world, as in fact she is, I think, on the other hand, there is a danger for them in denying any merit to another country. Not only once, but quite often, I was asked even by an educated person if we had electricity and railroads in Japan. We have, I think, to blame the English authors of books on Japan, whose delight and admiration are only in the things of old Japan.

I have no slightest hesitation to declare that I had my greatest days at Oxford. It was perfectly delightful to see there what a sweet old-fashioned love existed between the teachers and students. The fact reminded me of our old feudal times, when Bushido and Confucian ethics governed the country in the most respectable way. I am no person fit for writing of the physical civilisation of the English people; beside, I have only a little interest when I compare it with the other side of humanity. Dear old England with mother-love and consideration! It is her humanity that makes her great in the world.

VII

KICHO NO KI

HOME, 8th October 1904.

JAPAN again!—kicho after eleven years! I left New York in August; and it was the 6th of October when I left Shinbashi, Tokyo, homeward bound.

I stopped at Fujizawa, where my priest brother has the Jokoji temple; with him, I started to see Enoshima-that enchanted isle of Benten Sama. It reminded me of a certain Hy-Brasail of Irish song; oh, is it not an angel's home rising sudden out of a sacred water? Then we went to see Daibutsu or the Great Buddha of Kamakura; how I wished it stood by the seashore ! Why? Daibutsu's mighty profundity in silence and thought discarding the voice of the sea would show more sublime.

Under the soft greyness of evening we came back to the temple; and I stopped over night in the Buddhistic quietness which bit my soul; it was the first experience of my life. I know that I felt it more than I ought as I

was fresh from the noisy American life.

66

Next morning I was startled from my sleep by Gan, gan, gan!" the sound of a bell; it told me that my priest brother was beginning his morning prayer.

I took the six o'clock train toward Nagoya. I felt a great disappointment not hearing the "swan-like rhapsody of dying night" in Fujisan's lotos-peak soaring through the morning ether. However, I was in a measure comforted later at Suzukawa, when he peeped out from the clouds upon me. There was no word to express his majesty and grace. I felt as if I were happily running through a dreamlike garden; it would not be too much to say that no other train in the world harvests so much natural beauty with its wheels as this Tokaido's.

I was grateful for the "preservation of a recall of primeval Nature," the "exemption of the soil from labour" in Chinju no Mori, a village shrine; as it has been said, nothing but "long ages, respectful care, sometimes fortunate neglect," could make such an ideal wilderness. Since it is in the war time, I saw many a Rising Sun flag among the green trees, beyond the yellow rice fields; my patriotism jumped high with the sight of the flag. I felt in my heart to shout Banzai. The water ran clear,

the birds flew up and down. I thought there could be no other country like Japan so beautiful. I reached Tsushima, my native town, at evening.

I frightened my old father at the station, who was actually trying to find me among some other people. There is no wonder that he could not recognise me; I must have changed a great deal. "We must make a thanking worship immediately to Tenno Sama; I have been praying for his protection for you all the time. It is, of course, through his divine favour we have you here making a safe return," he exclaimed.

My mother was crying before she spoke. I wept too.

"How glad you came home! I was afraid we might not see you any more. And how you have changed, Yone Ko! You almost look like a Seiyojin, your nose and eyes just like those of a Western-sea man. Oh, how glad-you have returned finally!"

And she cried again.

My arrival was reported speedily among the people of Nakajima Cho, my street; the old men and women from the neighbouring houses, and the friends of my boyhood days, who were now the fathers of many children, began to call on me. They couldn't