There is my opinion for you. I hope you will think about it,—even if you do not like it. Work with a crowd, and you will never do anything great.
Many years ago, I advised you to take up a scientific study. It would have given you more leisure for literary work. You would not. You will have future reason to regret this. But if you want advice again, here it is: Don’t belong to societies, don’t write anything that comes into your head, don’t waste the poor little time you have. Take literature seriously,—or leave it alone.
Yours very truly,
Y. Koizumi.
TO YASUKOCHI
Tōkyō, November, 1901.
Dear Mr. Yasukochi,—Not the least of my pleasure in looking at the fine photograph, so kindly sent to my little son, was in observing how very well and strong you appear to be. Let me also have the privilege of thanking you—though my boy, of course, sends his small recognition of the favour.
Your letter of September 3d interested me very much; for I had not heard anything about you at all since the last visit you made to my little house in Tomihisa-chō. For example, I had not heard of your going to Kumamoto Ken; and although I often wondered about you, I knew nobody who could inform me. (I had, indeed, one Kumamoto pupil, Mr. Gōshō; but I quite forgot about his having been in my class at Kumamoto, until he came to see me after graduating—to say good-bye.) The experience of army-life which you have had must have been somewhat hard as discipline; but I imagine that, after all those years of severe study and mental responsibility, the change to another and physical discipline must have been good from the point of health. I think that it probably made you stronger; and I am glad you were in the artillery-corps,—where one has an opportunity to learn so many things of lasting value. But I trust that many years will elapse before Japan again needs your services in a military capacity.
It was kind of you to remember Numi. A curious thing happened after the last time we saw him. One in my household dreamed that he came back, in his uniform, looking very pale, and speaking of a matter concerning his family. The next day, the papers began to print the first accounts of the ship being missing. The coincidence was curious. The matter of which he seemed to have spoken was looked after, as he would have wished.