Dear Mrs. Wetmore,—I have your kindest note of June 16th, and am returning, with unspeakable thanks, the letters forwarded. I have written also to President Remsen and to President Taylor, as you wished me to do, directly.
You will be glad to hear that I am almost strong again; but I fear that I shall never be strong enough to lecture before a general public. Before a university audience I could do something, I believe; but the strain of speaking in a theatre would be rather trying. The great and devouring anxiety is for some regular employ—something that will assure me the means to live. With that certainty, I can do much. Lecturing will, I fear, be at best a most hazardous means of living. But it may help me to something permanent. I have now nearly completed twenty-one lectures: they will form eventually a serious work upon Japan, entirely unlike anything yet written. The substantial idea of the lectures is that Japanese society represents the condition of ancient Greek society a thousand years before Christ. I am treating of religious Japan,—not of artistic or economical Japan, except by way of illustration. Lowell’s “Soul of the Far East” is the only book of the kind in English; but I have taken a totally different view of the causes and the evolution of things.
I am worried about my boy—how to save him out of this strange world of cruelty and intrigue. And I dream of old ugly things—things that happened long ago, I am alone in an American city; and I have only ten cents in my pocket,—and to send off a letter that I must send will take three cents. That leaves me seven cents for the day’s food. Now, I am not hard up, by any means: I can wait another six months in Japan without anxiety. But the horror of being without employ in an American city appalls me—because I remember. All of which is written in haste to catch the mail. How good you are! I ought not to tell you of any troubles of mine—but if I could not, what would have happened me?
Lafcadio Hearn.
TO MRS. WETMORE
Tōkyō, October, 1903.
Dear Mrs. Wetmore,—I have had a charming letter from Vassar,—indicating that the president must be a charming person.
I have also—which surprised me—the most generous of letters from Sir William Van Horne, President of the C. P. R. R., agreeing to furnish me with means of transportation, both ways, to Montreal and back to Japan. I shall have to do some writing, probably; but that is a great chance, and I am grateful.
French friends have taken up the cudgels for me against the Japanese Government—unknown friends. The Aurore had a 2-col. article entitled “Ingratitude Nationale,” which somebody sent me from Italy. I am too much praised; but the reproach to Japan is likely to do me good. For I have really been badly treated, and the Government ought to be made ashamed.
I am nearly quite well, though not quite as strong as I should wish. My lectures, recast into chapters, will form a rather queer book—perhaps make a quite novel impression.