IT may not be that the beauties refuse to mix; but their silence, solitariness and independence are dignity, also virtue, through which they rise to the highest worth. And when they, have to mix, they should heat first and then set themselves to motion in song; the wonder is that they mix perfectly well. It is plain enough that the beauties of human life do never mix well fill they gain a fire of love; I mean to say there is almost no beauty fill love creates it for human life; and how do the beauties of Nature mix ? I observe the clouds, trees, stars, mountains, birds and streams which mix at once through the fire of rhythm, and complete a song of natural harmony; I say the fire of rhythm, but you can say it is electricity or personal magnetism if you like. It is perfectly wonderful to see ' that they know their own places ; I mean they never trespass but respect the others, and in song and action do their best. (It is only the sad mortals who always misstep consciously or unconsciously ; their misstepping is so clear.) But I think that [<175] their individuality is not distinguished, on the contrary, it is slightly impaired in most cases when they mix with others and sing their music. I can explain this better with a Japanese picture drawn on a silk scroll; suppose you have right before you a picture of the autumnal moon whose golden light is reflected on a stream below. I am sure that neither the moon nor the stream do show their own best as when you look upon them separately; but is there not an unmistakable love and beautiful kindship as a whole? The true harmony is only gained from the very sacrifice of a certain individuality; it is so in nature as in human life. Therefore I said that the Nature is at its height of worth when it commands silence, solitariness and independence; I mean when it is all by itself, alone and separately. I remember I was given by my teacher of art, when I began art lessons in my boyhood days, the pictures of an orchid, or bamboo, or tree, to copy ; they were the pictures of single objects. I see no great wisdom in it; and it is the most difficult sort of subject for a picture when I come to think of it to-day. Oh, what [<176] a difficulty to draw its silence, solitariness and independence indeed! And I thought in those days it was rather an easy thing to draw; it is true that there is nothing hard for a boy. Oh, I wish I could return again to my boyhood days. It is not bad to enjoy the true harmony or music of nature; but to appreciate its silence, solitariness and independence is the true test of human culture. I know that education is always mischievous in wrong-doing; it makes us astray from the path true and free. [<177]