rpiece something sacred. In the old days the veneration in
which the Japanese held the work of the great artist was intense. The
tea-masters guarded their treasures with religious secrecy, and it was
often necessary to open a whole series of boxes, one within another,
before reaching the shrine itself--the silken wrapping within whose soft
folds lay the holy of holies. Rarely was the object exposed to view, and
then only to the initiated.

At the time when Teaism was in the ascendency the Taiko's generals would
be better satisfied with the present of a rare work of art than a large
grant of territory as a reward of victory. Many of our favourite dramas
are based on the loss and recovery of a noted masterpiece. For instance,
in one play the palace of Lord Hosokawa, in which was preserved the
celebrated painting of Dharuma by Sesson, suddenly takes fire through
the negligence of the samurai in charge. Resolved at all hazards to
rescue the precious painting, he rushes into the burning building and
seizes the kakemono, only to find all means of exit cut off by the
flames. Thinking only of the picture, he slashes open his body with his
sword, wraps his torn sleeve about the Sesson and plunges it into the
gaping wound. The fire is at last extinguished. Among the smoking embers
is found a half-consumed corpse, within which reposes the treasure
uninjured by the fire. Horrible as such tales are, they illustrate the
great value that we set upon a masterpiece, as well as the devotion of a
trusted samurai.

We must remember, however, that art is of value only to the extent that
it speaks to us. It might be a universal language if we ourselves were
universal in our sympathies. Our finite nature, the power of tradition
and conventionality, as well as our hereditary instincts, restrict the
scope of our capacity for artistic enjoyment. Our very individuality
establishes in one sense a limit to our understanding; and our aesthetic
personality seeks its own affinities in the creations of the past. It is
true that with cultivation our sense of art appreciation broadens,
and we become able to enjoy many hitherto unrecognised expressions of
beauty. But, after all, we see only our own image in the universe,--our
particular idiosyncracies dictate the mode of our perceptions. The
tea-masters collected only objects which fell strictly within the
measure of their individual appreciation.

One is reminded in this connection of a story concernin