KŌBE, October, 1895.
DEAR NISHIDA,--Kazuo knows your picture, always hanging on the wall by
my desk, and your name--so that if you see him soon, he will not think
you a stranger. He talks well now, but is getting naughty, like his
father used to be--very naughty. I see my own childish naughtiness all
over again. I think he will be cleverer than his father. If he shows
real talent, I shall try to take him to France or to Italy, later on
in life. English schools I don't like: they are too rough. New England
schools are better; especially for the earlier teaching. The systems
of Spencer and others have been much better followed out in Eastern
Massachusetts than in England, where religious conservatism persists
in loading the minds with perfectly useless acquirements. The future
demands scientific education--not ornamented; and the thoroughly
trained man never needs help. I remember a friend in the United States
Army,--engineer and graduate of West Point (a splendid institution):
he was coaxed out of the army by an electrical company because of his
knowledge of applied mathematics. What wonderful men one meets among
the scientifically educated to-day one must go abroad to know. Such
men, unfortunately, do not come to Japan. If _they_ had been chosen for
teachers, I fancy that education would have felt their influence. It
does not feel the influence of common foreign teachers. But, a student
said to me, "We must cultivate our own powers through our own language
hereafter,"--and I think he expressed the sensible general feeling of
the day.
Ever with kindest hopes and wishes for you,