f his modern
education as a material weakness?

"The Japanese child is as close to you as the European child," says
Hearn, "perhaps closer and sweeter, because infinitely more natural, and
naturally refined. Cultivate his mind, and the more it is cultivated the
further you push him from you. Then the race difference shows itself. As
the oriental thinks naturally to the left, where we think to the right,
the more you cultivate him the more strongly will he think in the
opposite direction from you. Finis: sweetness, sympathy."

After the decoction, colour of pale whisky, that under the name of
"tea," accompanied by tiny spongecake (Kasutera)--his Papa San's
favourite cake, Kazuo told us--had been handed round and partaken of,
jinrikishas were called, for our expedition to the Zoshigaya Cemetery.
As we stood on the verandah before starting, a wintry ray of sunlight
fell across the garden, and a breeze rustled through the bamboo-grove,
stirring the daffodils and hyacinths in the flower-bed beneath. It was
the last sunlight we saw that afternoon! Over the dusty Tokyo
parade-ground, where little men, in ill-fitting khaki uniforms, were
going through various evolutions on horses about the size of Welsh
ponies--along by rice swamps, through narrow lanes, bordered by
evil-smelling, sluggish streams of water (the Japanese may be clean
inside their houses; outside, the streets of Tokyo are insanitary to an
unspeakable extent), we prosecuted our journey, while a cold wind
whistled round us, and inky-black clouds heaped themselves on the
horizon. When at last we reached the cemetery it seemed to have but
little charm to recommend it. Nothing "was beautiful with a beauty of
exceeding and startling queerness"; on the contrary, rather
distressingly European, with straight gravelled paths and formal plots,
enclosed by a box edging and a little wicket gate. I am under the
impression that it was a portion of the Japanese cemetery allotted by
government for the burial of "foreigners"; as no information was
volunteered upon the subject, however, we did not like to ask. Walking
along the gravel path, behind Kazuo's kimonoed figure, we at last
reached the tomb, distinguished by an upright granite slab, the same
shape as Hearn's Ihai in the Buddhist shrine, slightly rounded at the
top. A thick-set circle of evergreens, transplanted from the Nishi Okubo
garden by Mrs. Koizumi's orders, sheltered it behind. On one of the
stones in front of the