KŌBE, January, 1895.
DEAR NISHIDA,--I have just written to Mr. Senke, to apologize for delay
in sending my annual contribution--which I had hoped to be able to do as
a Japanese citizen. But this may give me a chance to write again, when I
get naturalized.
The Governor of Hyōgo did a very strange thing--informed the British
Consul that I was to make a declaration in writing, presumably before
the Consul, that I intended to be faithful to the Emperor of Japan, and
to obey the laws. I did make the declaration; and the Consul is kind
enough to forward it. But I believe he is doing this out of personal
kindness; for I do not think it is according to English ideas, much less
English laws, for a Consul to accept such a declaration at all. Indeed,
what was asked was equivalent to requesting the English Consul to accept
an English subject's renunciation of allegiance to Queen Victoria,--and
I am astonished that the Consul, who is a rigid disciplinarian, in
this case allowed me to submit to him any declaration on the subject.
One thing is sure, that others who want to become Japanese subjects
are going to have plenty of trouble. These measures are entirely new,
and quite different to anything ever before exacted--for example, in
the case of Warburton and other Kōbe residents who became Japanese
subjects, perhaps for business reasons.
I am thinking of building Setsu a house, either in Kōbe or Kyōto.
When I say Kōbe, I mean Hyōgo, really; for I cannot well afford to
buy land at $40 to $70 per _tsubo_ in the back streets of Kōbe. In
Hyōgo, I can do better. Setsu and I both agree that Kōbe is warmer
than Kyōto; but, except for the winter months, I should rather live
in Kyōto than in any part of Japan. Tōkyō is the most horrible
place in Japan, and I want to live in it just as short a time as
possible. The weather is atrocious;--the earthquakes are fearsome;--the
foreign element and the Japanese officialism of Tōkyō must
be dreadful. I want to feel and see _Japan_: there is no Japan in
Tōkyō. But in spite of all I say, Setsu thinks of Tōkyō
just as a French lady thinks of Paris. After she has passed a winter
there, perhaps she will not like Tōkyō so much. I imagine that she
thinks the Tōkyō,--the really beautiful Tōkyō--of the old
picture-books, and the bank-bills, still exists. Then she knows all
the famous names--the names of the bridges and streets and temples,--and
these are associated in her mind with the dramas and the famous stories
and legends of Japan. Perhaps I should love Tōkyō just as much as
she does, if I knew the history and the traditions of the country as
well.
[Illustration: LAFCADIO HEARN'S FAVOURITE DWELLING-HOUSE]
You will be pleased to hear that my books are attracting considerable
attention now in England. It is very hard to win attention there, but
much more important than to win it in America. "Out of the East" has
made more impression in England than my first book did. I don't know
what will be said of "Kokoro:" it is a terribly "radical" book--at
variance with all English conventions and beliefs. However, if you and
my few Japanese friends like it, I shall be happy.