s consonance with its immediate surroundings? Art
begins, as charity begins, at home; and where the home of the individual
is absolutely artistic, it cannot fail that the whole nation should be a
nation of artists. I give way to none in my loyalty to my country and my
love for that country--I must say that I do not think that there is a
country better in the whole world;--but perfection on this earth is not
only impossible, but to my idea also absolutely undesirable--a perfect
nation would be to the full as dreadful as a perfect man. We are saved
from perfection by an almost entire lack of the artistic faculty, and,
however great we are in other respects, I am sad to say we are
thoroughly inartistic. To whom but the Englishman would the golden
dragons that play so recklessly about on black screens with their
scarlet drooping tongues, that are sold in the Japanese curio shops,
possibly appeal? Who but English-speaking people would crave for
those cherry-blossoms embroidered on white silk grounds, which they so
gleefully carry away with them? Who but my inartistic countrymen would
insist on their cabinets being smothered with endless and miscellaneous
carvings? The Japanese are too artistic to admit these things into their
own homes; but why are their dealers so inartistic as (blinded by the
desire of filthy pelf) to put forth these embroideries for the English
and American market? Such things now and then make me tremble for the
future of art in Japan. It may be (though I trust not) the thin end of
the wedge; it may be "the little rift within the lute that by and by
will make the music mute, and, ever widening, slowly silence all." What
a tragedy it would be that the music of this most perfect art should
ever be silenced in that lovely land, the resting-place and home of the
highest and only living art!

PAINTERS AND THEIR METHODS

CHAPTER III

PAINTERS AND THEIR METHODS

The methods of painters all over the world are very much alike. In fact,
the methods of great masters (no matter of what nationality, and whether
of this period or of centuries past) are often precisely similar, while
there can be no doubt but that some of the finest masterpieces ever
painted very closely resemble one another. I was once taken to see two
photographs, one a portion of a figure by Michael Angelo, and the other
a portion of a Japanese buddha by one of Japan's greatest masters; and
to my surprise I found that it was almost