My dear Ōtani,—To study philology, with the idea of becoming a philologist, scarcely seems to me a hopeful undertaking for you. Philology means a great deal, including the comparative study of languages; and it requires a very special natural gift in acquiring languages, to be of any very practical value to you. It would also require, I think, years of study in foreign universities. I am not quite sure what you mean by philology, and what your purpose in following that course would be. You might, of course, do as many do—take the literary and philological course at the university. But the question, to my mind, seems to be this: “What would be the practical value of such studies afterwards?” Do you wish to become a Professor of Philology? Do you wish to give your life to the scientific study of languages? If you do, are you quite sure you have the particular kind of talent required (for, remember, everybody cannot become a philologist any more than everybody can become a mathematician)?
A GROUP OF GRADUATES OF THE MIDDLE SCHOOL
1 Mr. Hearn 2 Mr. Nishida 3 The old teacher of Chinese Classics
The truth is, I do not know enough about your circumstances and intentions and abilities to advise you well. I can only tell you in a general way what I think.
I think you ought not to study what would not be of practical use to you in after-life. I am always glad to hear of a student studying engineering, architecture, medicine (if he has the particular moral character which medicine requires), or any branch of applied science. I do not like to see all the fine boys turning to the study of law, instead of to the study of science or technology. Of course much depends upon the mathematical faculty. If you have that faculty, I would strongly advise you to direct all your studies toward a scientific profession—something really practical,—engineering, architecture, electricity, chemistry, etc. If you should ask which, I could not tell you, because I do not know your own highest capacities in such directions. I would only say,—“Whatever you are most sure of loving as a practical profession.”
Japan wants no more lawyers now; and I think the professions of literature and of teaching give small promise. What Japan needs are scientific men; and she will need more and more of them every year. To-day you are fortunate; but nothing in this world is sure. Suppose you were obliged suddenly to depend entirely on your own unassisted power to make money,—would it not then be necessary to do something practical? Certainly it would. And according to the rarity of your abilities would be your remuneration,—your money-making power. Even the Queen of England obliged her children to learn professions.
Now scientific men are still comparatively rare in Japan. The science-classes in the colleges are small. Many students begin the study,—but they find it hard for them, and give it up. Nevertheless, it is just because it is hard that it is so important and of such high value to the person who masters it. If you were my son, or brother, I would say to you, “Study science,—applied science; study for a practical profession.” As for languages and other subjects, you can study them whenever you please. The practical knowledge is the only important knowledge now,—and your whole life will depend upon your present studies.
You asked whether philology was difficult. Science is difficult,—really difficult; but everything worth having in this world is difficult to get, exactly in proportion to its value. The only question, I think, should be, “What study will be most useful to me all through life?” But not whether it is difficult. What is important to know is always difficult to learn. Philology is difficult; practical science is difficult;—both are very difficult. But philology would never be of much use to you, unless you have a natural genius for language-study. And science would be of immense value to you, whether you have any genius or not. You will need, however, as I said before, mathematical study to fit you for that. And I would also remind you of this:—
Hundreds of students leave the university without any real profession, and without any practical ability to make themselves useful. All cannot become teachers, or lawyers, or clerks. They become soshi, or they become officials, or they do nothing of any consequence. Their whole education has been of no real use to them, because it has not been practical. Men can succeed in life only by their ability to do something, and three fourths of the university students can do nothing. Their education has been only ornamental.