the way she comes. I hate anything accidental, It is, I think, a great test of my strength that I greatly fear to meet her on my road of life.
If there is anything admirable in Japan, that is no other but the Japanese woman’s kimono quite formless, even fantastic. And it is the woman’s love or personality when she makes it tum to a shape. How I used to hate to see the Western women apologetic under the tailor-made dress.
The vulgarisation of General Nogi has been going on for some time now almost recklessly; I see that a new book on him is sent out from the printer every day. (It is not far from truth to say that quite many books on Nogi go, not to the people, but straight to the waste-basket.) In old Japan, when a really great personality passed away, we built a temple or shrine upon his grave and, saying nothing, let our silent prayer tell our hearts. It was from the American journalism if we have made, as in fact, a third-rate gossip and tittle-tattle of a
