TO MR. AND MRS. JOHN ALBEE
Tōkyō, February, 1898.
My dear Friends,—I am going to address you together, as that will save me from the attempt to write in two keys corresponding to the differing charm of your two letters. Certainly it gave me, as you surmised, sincere pleasure to hear from you. Mrs. Albee surprised me at the same time by a most agreeable, though I fear somewhat generous, reference to a forgotten letter. I think I must have penned many extravagances in those days. I know it—in certain cases: anyhow I should be afraid to read my own letters to Mr. Albee over again. As for my old ambition then expressed, I don’t quite know what to say. The attempt referred to led me far at one time in the wrong direction—though whatever I have learned of style has certainly been due rather to French and Spanish studies than to English ones. I have now dropped theories, nevertheless; and I simply try to do the best I can, without reference to schools.
Do you know that I had a dim notion always that Mr. Albee was a millionaire,—or at least a very wealthy dilettante?—which would be the best of reasons for never sending him a book, notwithstanding my grateful remembrance of his first generous encouragement. (Here I use “generous” in the strongest meaning possible.) I am, selfishly, rather pleased to hear that the price of a book is sometimes for him, as for me, a question worth thinking over—because the fact permits me to offer him a volume occasionally. Otherwise indeed I wish he were rich as my fancy painted him.
You say that you have not read “all my books on Japan.” Any that you particularly care to read, I can send you—though I should not recommend the “Glimpses,” except for reference. “Kokoro” would probably best please Mrs. Albee, and after it, “Out of the East.” Hereafter I shall send a copy of every “new book” to you. Of course I shall be glad to have the pleasure of seeing Mr. Albee’s “Prose Idyls”—many sincere thanks for the kind remembrance!
With kindest and best regards, faithfully ever,
Lafcadio Hearn.
TO JOHN ALBEE
Tōkyō, May, 1898.
Dear Mr. Albee,—My best thanks for the “Prose Idyls.” The book leaves on the mind an impression of quiet brightness like that of a New England summer sky thinly veiled. Three idyls especially linger in my imagination,—each for a reason all its own. Hawthorne might have written “The Devil’s Bargain:” it is a powerful moral fancy, and the touch of grotesque humour in it is just enough to keep it from being out of tone in the gallery of optimist studies. “The Family Mirror” is haunting: the whole effect, to my notion, being brought out by that charming reference to the damaged spot at the back. Then “A Mountain Maid” much appealed to me by its suggestion of that beautiful and mysterious sauvagerie, as the French call it,—that wholly instinctive shrinking from caress, which develops with the earliest budding of womanhood, but which the girl could not herself possibly explain. Indeed I fancy that only evolutional philosophy can explain it at all. Analogous conditions in the boy of fourteen or fifteen are well worthy of study—already I had attempted a little sketch on this subject, which may be printed some day or other: “A Pair of Eyes.”
My next volume will have a series of what I might call metaphysical idyls, perhaps, at its latter end. I fear you will think them too sombre,—now that I have felt something of the sunshine of your soul. However, each of us can only give his own tone to the thread which he contributes to the infinite warp and woof of human thought and emotion. Is it not so? With kindest regards to Mrs. Albee, very gratefully yours,