TO OCHIAI
Kumamoto, January, 1894.
Dear Ochiai,—Many thanks for your kind letter, with its kind wishes,—and many happy New Years to you.
I have been very glad to hear of your success at school, and all the news about your reading. I think Mr. Nishida’s plan is very wise and good. It is true that the lives of such men as Clive and Hastings—and above all Napoleon—are full of interest and romance, because they show the wonderful things that can be achieved by force of character united with great intellect,—Clive being the best man, morally, of the three. But, on the other hand, it is sadly true that the genius and the courage of those three wonderful men were not employed in the noblest way, but most often in a bad cause. Strong characters are very attractive, because those who read about them take pleasure in imagining what they would do if they had the same power and opportunity. But strong characters are only really admirable when they are employed in a good, just, noble cause. And of such characters, the number in Western history is few. Pericles, Miltiades, Epaminondas, were nobler than Alexander; yet people like to read about Alexander, who was not a good man. Marcus Aurelius was nobler than Cæsar; but people like to read more about Cæsar, because he was a great conqueror. And so on through all Western history. There is splendour and honour in brave fighting for what is right; but I do not think we ought to allow ourselves to praise brave fighting for what is wrong. Bravery is noble only when the object is noble. As a quality, it is not peculiar to man at all;—a wild bull is braver than any general. It is very noble to sacrifice one’s life for a good cause—for love of parents, country, duty; but we ought not to admire the throwing away of life for an unjust cause. The real rule by which to measure what is admirable and what is despicable is the rule of Duty.
That is why I admire very, very much, all that was noble in the old Japanese life,—its moral code, its household religion, and its unselfishness. Everything is now passing away. By the time you are as old as I now am, all Japan will have been changed; and I think you will remember with regret the kindness and the simplicity of heart and the pleasant manners of the Old Japan, that used to be all about you. The New Japan will be richer and stronger and in many things wiser; but it will neither be so happy nor so kindly as the old.
Well, I trust you will have all possible success,—not only in your school-life, but in all your life to come. I have hopes you will do great and good things, and that I will hear of them.
Ever affectionately yours,
Lafcadio Hearn.