This is truly delightful. As the Hebrew poets loved to sing of mountain-girdled Jerusalem, so Japanese poetry extols Kiyôto, which is encompassed, not with forestsmothered ranges like those of Northern Japan, but with hills more or less rugged, wooded here, broken into grey peaks there, crimson with maples, or dark with pines, great outbreaks of yellowish rock giving warmth and variety, and the noble summit of Hiyeizan crowning the mountain wall which bounds the city on the north. On fine days, when the sun rises in pink and gold, and sets in violet and ruddy orange, these mountains pass through colours which have no names, the higher ranges beyond the Gulf of Osaka look faintly through a veil of delicious blue, and I grudge the radiant hours passing, because rain and mist persistently return to dim the picture. There is a pleasure in being able to agree cordially with every one, and every one loves Kiyôto.

I came here a fortnight ago with Mrs. Gulick, intending to spend two or three days alone in a yadoya, but on arriving found that it had been arranged that I should be received here, where I have spent a fortnight delightfully, seeing a great many of the sights with my hostess, and others with Mr. Noguchi, an English-speaking Japanese, deputed by the Governor to act as my cicerone.