A book of this sort has so many debts to acknowledge that it should be thickly set with notes and references, and yet in writing for the general reader this is not possible. Therefore I can only say, speaking generally, how much I owe to many and great thinkers from those of three millenniums ago down to the present time. I am often asked to recommend books on these subjects, but it is difficult to do so, for with regard to many of the Indian thinkers on whom so much depends their invaluable writings, even when translated, are hampered with Sanskrit terms very difficult for those unused to them, and modern writers sometimes assume more patience and perhaps knowledge than the average man with all the preoccupations of life has time to possess. Yet he may wish to know. This book is therefore an effort to interpret, to suggest, and no one knows better than myself what a contracted statement it is of what a great subject. Yet I venture to hope there are those to whom my experiences and conclusions,

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This book is part of the TREDITION CLASSICS series. The creators of this series are united by passion for literature and driven by the intention of making all public domain books available in printed format again - worldwide. At tredition we believe that a great book never goes out of style. Several mostly non-profit literature projects provide content to tredition. To support their good work, tredition donates a portion of the proceeds from each sold copy. As a reader of a TREDITION CLASSICS book, you support our mission to save many of the amazing works of world literature from oblivion.

This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger Publishing's Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and hard-to-find books with something of interest for everyone!

This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger Publishing's Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and hard-to-find books with something of interest for everyone!

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CHAPTER II I COULD not piece the story together as I went slowly back. Perhaps it was better I should not?yet the strange tie that bound me to the man whose all I had taken, thrilled like a harp- string. I called my servant, Tazaki, and in a few minutes he had put the book in my hand. Yes, on the last page?the first of course, of a Japanese book, was written in a small hand "Miyuki Yama- shina," with a date of some years ago and the name of a place?"Haruna." Why, that was here It was to be my expedition of tomorrow. The Haruna Temple, the wild Haruna valley. Then Lance too knew it all?the memories of him here would be thick as motes in the sunbeam. No wonder that it stirred me. as I came up from Maebashi, for I was entering a soul- complex that might well survive what we call death and vibrate in the lonely woods where a woman sat alone and mourned?as I believed. There was also something written on the inner cover?in hiragana, the running character used much by women and those who cannot master the Chinese characters. I could not read it and in any case would not now have done so, but I looked long at it, for it seemed like a message or a quotation from some letter, and that space had the air of having been more thumbed and read than the rest. The secret slept in France and as far as I was concerned, there it should sleep. I caused Tazaki to wrap up the book in politest Japanese fashion, securing it with knots of scarlet twine, and so directed it and sent it to the room Tie knew she occupied. No answer was returned. I slept ill that night. There was a crying in the wind that had sprung up; the wooden shutters rattled; the trees sighed, and in my own heart was a sighing. I saw her sitting among them, a bowed figure, the smile dropped like a useless mask from feature...