His boyish carelessness and samurai-fashioned courtesy are characteristic. His great laugh, “Ha, ha, ha!” echoes on half a mile. He never leaves his wine glass alone. My uncle complains of his empty stomach. The more the minister repeats his cup the more his eloquence rises on the Chinese question. He does not forget to keep up his honourable standard of diplomatist even in drinking, I fancy. I see charm in the eloquence of a drunkard. * * * * * I exposed myself on deck for the first time. I wasn’t strong enough, alas! to face the threatening grandeur of the ocean. Its divineness struck and wounded me. O such an expanse of oily-looking waters! O such a menacing largeness! One star, just one sad star, shone above. I thought that the little star was trembling alone on a deck of some ship in the sky. Star and I cried. 13th—My first laughter on the ocean burst out while I was peeping at a label, “7 yens,” inside the chimney-pot hat of our respected minister, when he was brushing it. He must have bought that great headgear just on the eve of his appointment. How stupid to leave such a bit of paper! I laughed. He asked what was so irresistibly funny. I laughed more. I hardly repressed “My dear old man.” The “helpless me” clinging on the bed for many a day feels splendid to-day. The ocean grew placid. On the land my eyes meet with a thousand temptations. They are here opened for nothing but the waters or the sun-rays. I don’t gain any lesson, but I have learned to appreciate the demonstrations of light. They were white. O what a heavenly whiteness! The billows sang a grand slow song in blessing of the sun, sparkling their ivory teeth. The voyage isn’t bad, is it? I planted myself on the open deck, facing Japan. I am a mountain-worshipper. Alas! I could not see that imperial dome of snow, Mount Fuji. * * * * * One dozen fairies—two dozen—roved down from the sky to the ocean. I dreamed. I was so very happy. 14th—What a confusion my hair has suffered! I haven’t put it in order since I left the Orient. Such negligence of toilet would be fined by the police in Japan. I was busy with my hair all the morning. 15th—The Sunday service was held. There’s nothing more natural on a voyage than to pray. We have abandoned the land. The ocean has no bottom. We die any moment “with bubbling groan, without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.” Only prayer makes us firm. I addressed myself to the Great Invisible whose shadow lies across my heart. He may not be the God of Christianity. He is not the Hotoke Sama of Buddhism. Why don’t those red-faced sailors hum heavenly-voiced hymns instead of—“swear?” 16th—Amerikey is away beyond. Not even a speck of San Francisco in sight yet! I amused myself thinking what would happen if I never returned home. Marriage with a ’Merican, wealthy and comely?