LIFE AN D LETTERS OF LAFCADIO HEARN

VOLUME I

TH E L IFE A N D LETTERS

OF

LA FCA D IO H EA RN

ELIZABETH R ISLAND

WITH ILL USTR A TION 8

IN TWO VOL UME S

VOL . I

BOSTON A N D N EW YORK

HOUGH TON, MIFFLIN A N D COMPANY(l ibs {limerg

’

ibe {area‘

s! Gamb tibge

1906

PREFACE

IN the course of the preparation of these volumesthere was gradually accumulated so great a numberof the letters written by Lafcadio Hearn da ringtwenty-five years of his life, and these letters provedof so interesting a nature, that eventually the plan ofthe whole work was altered . The original intentionwas that they should serve only to illuminate thegeneral text of the biography , but as their numberand value became more apparent it was evidentthat to reproduce them in full would make the bookboth more readable and more illustrative of thecharacter of the man than anything that couldpossibly be related of him .

No biographer could have so vividly pictured themodesty and tender-heartedness , the humour andgenius of the man as he has unconsciously revealedthese qualities in unstudied communications to hisfriends . Happily— in these days when the preservation of letters is a rare thing almost everyone to whom he wrote appeared instinctively to

treasure even when he was still unknown—7every one of his communications , though here andthere regrettable gaps occur, owing to the accidentsof changes of residence , three of which , as every oneknows , are more destructive of such treasures thana fire . To all of his correspondents who have so

vi PREFACE

generously contributed their treasured letters I wishto express my sincere thanks . Especially is gratitudedue to Professor M a sanub o Otani , of the ShinshuUniversity of Tokyo, for the painstaking accuracyand fulness of the information he contributed as tothe whole course of Hearn’s life

~

in Japan .

The seven fragments of autobiographical reminiscence , discovered after Hearn

’s death , added to theletters , narrowed my task to little more than therecording of dates and such brief comments andexplanations as were required for the better comprehension of his own contributions to the book .

Naturally some editing of the letters has beennecessary . Such parts as related purely to mattersof business have been deleted as uninteresting tothe general public ; many personalities , usually bothwitty and trenchant , have been omitted , not onlybecause such personalities are matters of confidencebetween the writer and his correspondent , a confidence which death does not render less inviolable ,but also because the dignity and privacy of the livinghave every claim to respect . Robert Browning’s justresentment at the indiscreet editing of the FitzGerald Letters is a warning that should be heeded ,and it is moreover certain that Lafcadio Hearn himself would have been profoundly unwilling to haveany casual criticism of either the living or the deadgiven public record . Of those who had been hisfriends he always spoke with tenderness and respect ,and I am but following what I know to be his wishesin omitting all references to his enemies .That such a definite and eccentric person as he

PREFACE vii

should make enemies was of course unavoidable .

If any of these retain their enmity to one who haspassed into the sacred helplessness of death , and areinclined to think that the m ere outline sketch ofthe man contained in the following pages lacks theveracity of shadow, my answer is this : In the firstplace, I ha ve taken heed of the opinion he himselfhas expressed in one of his letters “I believewe ought not to speak of the weaknesses of verygreat men ” — and the intention of such part ofthis book as is my own is to give a history of thecircumstances under which a great man developedhis genius . I have purposely ignored all such episodes as seemed impertinent to this end, as from mypoint of view there seems a sort of gross curiosityin raking among such details of a man’s life as hehimself would wish ignored . These I gladly leaveto those who enjoy such labours .In the second place, there is no art more difficult

than that of making a portrait satisfactory to everyone, for the limner of a man , whether he use pen orpigments , can if he be honest only transfer tothe canvas the lineaments as he himself sees them .

H ow he sees them depends not only upon his owntemperament , but also upon the aspect which thesubject of the picture would naturally turn towardssuch a temperament . For every one of us is awareof a certain chameleon-like quality within ourselveswhich causes us to take on a protective colouringassim ilative to our surroundings , and we all , like thehusband in Browning’s verse ,

Boa st two soul -s ides,

vii i PREFACE

which is the explanation, no doubt , of the apparentlyirreconcilable impressions carried away by a man’sacquaintances .Which soul-side was the real man must finally

resolve itself into a matter of opinion . Henley,probably, honestly believed the real Stevenson to beas he represented him , but the greate

!

r number of

those who knew and loved the artist will continue toform their estimate of the man from his letters andbooks , and to them Henley

’s diatribe will continue toseem but the outbreak of a mean jealousy, whichcould not tolerate the lifting up of a companion forthe world’s admiration.Of the subject of this memoir there certainly

exists more than one impression , but the writer canbut depict the man as he revealed himsel f throughouttwenty years of intimate acquaintance , and for confirm a tion of this opinion can only refer to the workhe has left for all the world to judge him by , and tothe intimate revelations of thoughts , opinions , andfeelings contained in his letters .

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTORY SKETCH

I . Boynoon

II. TH E A R TIST’s A PPR E N TICE SHIP

III. TH E M ASTE R WOR K M A N

IV . TH E LAST STAGE

LETTERS

ILLU STRATIONS

LAFCAD IO HEAR N (photogr avure) F rontispiece

From a photograph takenab out 1900.

LAFCAD IO HEAR NFrom a photograph taken ab out 1873.

LAFCAD IO HEAR N AN D MITCH E L L M CDON AL D

LAFCAD IO HEA R NFrom a photograph taken in the ”70

’s .

FACSIM IL E on M R . H EA R N’s EAR L IER HAN DWR ITIN G

SAIN T-PIE R R E A N D M T . PE LEEFrom a photograph in the possessionof D r. T. A. Jaggar, J r.

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CHAPTER I

BOYH OOD

LAFCAD IO HEARN was born on the twenty-seventhof June , in the year 185 0 . He was a native of theIonian Isles , the place of his birth being the Islandof Santa Maura , which is commonly called inmodern Greek Levkas , or L efcada , a corruption ofthe name of the o ld Leucadia , which wa s famousas the place of Sappho’s self-destruction . Thisisland is separated from the eastern coast of Greeceby a narrow strait ; the neck of land which joined itto the mainland having been cut through by the Corinthians seven centuries before Christ . To this dayit remains deeply wooded , and scantily populated ,with sparse Vineyards and olive groves clinging tothe steep sides of the mountains overlooking theblue Ionian sea . The child Lafcadio may haveplayed in his early years among the high-set , halfobliterated ruins of the Temple of Apollo , fromwhence offenders were cast down with multitudes ofbirds tied to their limbs

,that perchance the beating

of a thousand wings might break the violence of thefall , and so rescue them from the last penalty of

expiation .

In this place of old tragedies and romance thechild was born into a life always to be shadowed by

4 LAFCAD IO H EARN

tragedy and romance to an extent almost fantasticin our modern workaday world . This wild , boldbackground , swimming in the half-tropical blue ofGreek sea and sky , against which the boy firstdiscerned the vague outlines of his conscious life ,seems to have silhouetted itself behind all his latermemories and prepossessions , and through whateverdark or squalid scenes his wanderings led , his heartwas always filled by dreams and longings for soaringoutlines , and the blue ,

‘‘Which i s the colour of theidea of the divine , the colour pantheistic , thecolour ethical . ”

Long years afterward , in the Dream of a Summer Day ,

” he says :“ I have memory of a place and a magical time , in

which the sun and the moon were larger and brighterthan now . Whether it was of this life or of some lifebefore , I cannot tell , but I know the sky was verymuch more blue , and nearer to the world almostas it seems to become above the masts of a steamersteaming into equatorial summer . The sea wasalive and used to talk and the Wind made mecry out for joy when it touched me . Once or twiceduring other years , in divine days lived among thepeaks , I have dreamed for a moment the same windwas blowing but it was only a remembrance .

“Also in that place the clouds were wonderful andof colours for which there are no names at all ,colours that used to make me hungry and thirsty .

I remember, too , that the days were ever so muchlonger than these days , and every day there werenew pleasures and new wonders for me . And all

BOYHOOD 5

that country and time were softly ruled by One whothought only of ways to make me happy .

When day was done , and there fell the great hush oflight before moonrise , she would tell me stories thatmade me tingle from head to foot with pleasure . Ihave never heard any other stories half so beautiful .And when the pleasure became too great , she wouldsing a weird little song which always brought sleep .

At last there came a parting day ; and she wept andtold me of a charm she had given that I must never,never lose , because it would keep me young , andgive me power to return . But I never returned .

And the years went ; and one day I knew that I hadlost the charm , and had become ridiculously old .

”

A strange mingling of events and of race-forceshad brought the boy into being .

Surgeon-Major Charles Bush Hearn , of the 7 6thFoot , came of an o l d Dorsetshire family inwhich there was a tradition of gipsy blooda traditiono too dim and ancient now to be verified ,though Hearn is an old Romany name in the west ofEngland , and the boy Lafcadio bore in his hand allhis life that curious thumb-print ” upon the palm ,

which is said to be the invariable mark of Romanydescent . The first of the Hearns to pass over intoIreland went as private chaplain to the Lord Lieutenant in 1693 , and being later appointed Dean ofCashel , settled permanently in West Meath . Fromthe ecclesiastical loins there appears to have sprunga numerous race of soldiers , for Dr . Hearn

’s fatherand seven uncles served under Wellington in Spain .

The grandfather of Lafcadio rose during the

6 LAFCADIO HEARN

Peninsula Campaign to the position of lieutenantcolonel of the 4 3d regiment , and commanded hisregiment in the battle of Vittoria . Later he marriedElizabeth Holmes , a kinswoman of Sir RobertHolmes , and of Edmund Holmes the poet , anothermember of her family being Rice Holmes , the historian of the Indian Mutiny . Dr . Charles Hearn ,the father of .Lafcadio , was her eldest son, and an

other son was Richard , who was one of the Barbizonpainters and an intimate friend of Jean FrancoisMillet .It was in the late ’

4 0’s , when England still held

the Ionian Isles , that the 76th Foot was ordered toGreece , and Surgeon-Major Hearn accompaniedhis regiment to do garrison duty on the island ofCerigo . Apparently not long after his arrival hemade the acquaintance of Rosa Cerigote , whosefamily is said to have been of old and honourableGreek descent . Photographs of the young surgeonrepresent him as a handsome man , with the flowingside—whiskers so valued at that period , and with abold profile and

"

delicate waist . A passionate loveaffair ensued between the beautiful Greek girl andthe handsome Irishman , but the connection wasviolently opposed by the girl’s brothers , the nativebitterness toward the English garrison being asintense as was the sentiment in the South against theNorthern army of occupation immediately afterthe American Civil War . The legend goe s that theCerigote men there was hot blood in the familyveins waylaid and stabbed the Irishman , leavinghim for dead . The girl , it is said . with the aid of

BOYHOOD 7

a servant , concealed him in a barn and nursed himback to life , and after his recovery eloped with hergrateful lover and married him by the Greek rites inSanta Maura . The first child died immediatelyafter birth , and the boy , Lafcadio , was the secondchild ; taking his name from the Greek name of theisland, L efcada . Another son , James , three yearslater in Cephalonia , was the fruit of this marriage , soromantically begun and destined to end so tragically .

When England ceded the Ionian Isles to GreeceDr . Hearn returned with his family to Dublin ,pausing , perhaps , for a while at Malta, for in aletter written during the last years of his life L a fcadio says : “I am almost sure of having been inMalta as a child . My father told me queer thingsabout the old palaces of the knights , and a storyof a monk who on the coming of the French hadthe presence of m ind to paint the gold chancelrailing with green paint .”

The two boys were at this time aged six andthree . It was inevitable, no doubt , that the youngwife , who had never mastered the English tongue ,though she spoke , as did the children , Italian andRomaic , should have regretted the change from hersunlit island to the dripping Irish skies and greystreets of Dublin , nor can it be wondered at that ,an exile among aliens in race , speech , and faith ,there should have soon grown up misunderstandings and disputes . The unhappy details have diedinto silence with the passage of time , but the wifeseems to have believed herself repudiated and b etrayed, and the marriage being eventually annulled ,

8 LAFCADIO HEARN

she fled to Smyrna with a Greek cousin who hadcome at her call , leaving the two children with thefather . This cousin she afterwards married andher children knew her no more . The father alsomarried again, and the boy Lafcadio being adoptedby Dr . Hearn’s aunt , a Mrs . Brenane , and rem ov

ing with her to Wales , never again saw either hisfather or his brother .1

The emotions are not hard to guess at of apassionate , sensitive boy of seven , suddenly flungby the stormy emotions of his elders out of the

1 The fol lowing version of the story is reproduced from a letter writtenby M rs .Hea rn in reply to a request for anyknowledge she m ight have gainedon this subject from her husband’s conversations with her during their lifetogether in Japan. Its poignant simplicity is heightened by the transmutations through two languages .Mama San Whenabout four years old I did very rude things . Mama

gave me a struck onmy cheek with her pa lm . It was very strong . I got

angry and gazed onmyMama’s face, which I never forget. Thus I remember myMama’s face . She was of a little sta ture, with black hair and blackeyes , like a Japanese woman. How pitiable Mama San she was . UnhappyMama San; pitiable indeed ! Think of that —Think : you a re my wife,and I ta ke you with K azuo and Iwao to mynative country : you do not knowthe language spoken there, nor have any friend . You have your husbandonly, who prove not very kind . You must be so very unhappy then. And

then if I happened to love some native lady and say ‘

Sayonara’ to you,how

you would trouble your heart! That was the ca se with myMama . I havenot such cruel heart . But only to think of such thing makes me sad. Tosee your face troubled just now myhea rt aches . Let us drop such subj ectfrom our ta lk .

Papa San It is only once that I remember I felt glad with mypapa .

Yes, on that occa sion! Perhaps I was then a boy like Iwao or K iyoshi . I

was playing with my nurse. Many a sound of ‘gallop—trop’ came frombehind . The nurse laughed and lifted me high up.

~

I observed my papapass ; I ca lled him with mytiny hand now such a big hand . Papa tookme from the hands of nurse . I wa s on horseback . A s I looked behind a

grea t number of soldiers fol lowed on horseba ck with ‘ga llop-trop .

’I imag

inedmyself that I was a genera l then. Itwas only ontha t time tha t I thoughthow good papa he was .

”

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10 LAFCADIO HEARN

especially that of Him for whom alone the Nineteenth Century still feels some reverence the

L ord andGi ver of L ife. We were all very darkas children , very passionate, very odd-looking , andwore gold rings in our ears . Have you not themarks yet ?

“When I saw your photograph I felt all myblood stir, and I thought ,

‘Here is this unknownbeing , in whom the soul of my mother lives

,

who must have known the same strange impulses,

the same longings , the same resolves as I ! Will hetell me of them ?’ There was another Self, wouldthat Self interpret This ?

“ For This has always been mysterious . WereI to use the word ‘Soul ’ in its limited and superannua ted sense as the spirit of the individual instead of the ghost of a race , I should say it hadalways seemed to me as if I had two souls : eachpulling in different ways . One of these representedthe spirit of mutiny impatience of all restraint ,hatred of all control, weariness of everything methodica l and regular, impulses to love or hatewithout a thought of consequences . The otherrepresented pride and persistence ; it had littlepower to use the reins before I was thirty .

Whatever there is of good in me came from thatdark race-soul of which we know so little . Mylove of right , my hate of wrong ;— my admirationfor what is beautiful or true ; —my capacity forfaith in man or woman ; my sensitiveness to artistic things which gives me whatever little successI have , even that language-power whose physical

BOYHOOD l l

sign is in the large eyes of both of us , came fromHer. It is the mother who makes us ,— makesat least all that makes the nobler man : not hisstrength or powers of calculation , but his heartand power to love . And I would rather have herportrait than a fortune .

”

Mrs . Brenane , into whose hands the child thuspassed , was the widow of a wealthy Irishman , bywhom she had been converted to Romanism , andlike all converts she was more loyal than theKing .

” The divorce and remarriage of her nephewincurred her bitterest resentment ; she not only insisted upon a complete separation from the child ,b ut did not hesitate to speak her mind fully to theb oy, who always retained the impressions thus earlyinstilled . In one of his letters he speaks of hisfather’s rigid face , and steel-steady eyes ,

” andsays : I can remember seeing father only five times .He was ra ther J ta citurn, I think . I remember hewrote me a long letter from India all aboutserpents and tigers and elephants printed inRoman letters with a pen, so that I could read iteasily . I remember my father taking meup on horseback when coming into the town withhis regiment . I remember being at a dinner with anumber of men in red coats , and crawling aboutunder the table among their legs . And elsewherehe declares , I think there is nothing of him inme , either physically or mentally .

” A mistake ofprejudice this ; the Hearns of the second marriagebearing the most striking likeness to the elder halfbrother, having the same dark skins , delicate ,

12 LAFCADIO HEARN

aquiline profiles , eyes deeply set in arched orbits ,and short , supple, well-knit figures . The familytype is unusual and distinctive , with some racialalignment not easy to define except by the indefinite term “ exotic ; showing no trace of either itsEnglish origin or Irish residence .

Of the next twelve years of Lafcadio Hearn’s lifethere exists but meagre record . The little darkeyed , dark-faced , passionate boy with the woundin his heart and the gold rings in his ears speaking English but stammeringly, mingled with Italianand Romaic — seems to have been removed atabout his s eventh year to Wales , and from thistime to have visited Ireland but occasionally . Ofhis surroundings during the most impressionableperiod of his life it is impossible to reconstructother than shadowy outlines . Mrs . Brenane waso ld; was wealthy ; and lived surrounded by eagerpriests and passionate converts .In “

Kwa idan” there is a little story called H i

Mawari ,” which seems a glimpse of this period :

On the wooded hill behind the house Robert andI are looking for fairy-rings . Robert is eight yearso l d, comely, and very wise ; —I am a little morethan seven, and I reverence Robert . It is aglowing

,glorious August day ; and the warm air is

filled with sharp , sweet scents of resin .

We do not find any fairy-rings ; but we find agreat many pine-cones in the high grass . Itell Robert the o ld Welsh story of the man whowent to sleep , unawares , inside of a fairy-ring , and

BOYHOOD 13

so disappeared for seven years,and would never

eat or speak after his friends had delivered himfrom the enchantment .They eat nothing but the points of needles ,

you know says Robert .“Who ? I ask .

Goblins , Robert answers .This revelation leaves me dumb with astonish

ment and awe . But Robert suddenly criesout :There is a harper ! he is coming to the houseAnd down the hill we run to hear the harper .But what a harper ! Not like the hoary

minstrels of the picture-books . A swarthy, sturdy,unkempt vagabond , with bold black eyes underscowling brows . More like a brick-layer than abard , — and his garments are corduroy !

“Wonder if he is going to sing in Welsh ?” murmurs Robert .I feel too much disappointed to make any remarks .

The harper poses his harp a huge instrumentupon our doorstep , sets all the strings ringing with asweep of his grimy fingers , clears his throat witha sort of angry growl , and begins ,

Bel ieve me, if a l l those endea ring young cha rms ,

Which I ga ze on so fondlyto-day

The accent , the attitude , the voice , all fill me withrepulsion unutterable , shock me with a new sensation of formidable vulgarity . I want to cry outloud ,

“You have no right to sing that song !” forI have heard it sung by the lips of the dearest and

14 LAFCADIO HEARN

fairest being in my little world ; and that this rude,

coarse man should dare to sing it vexes me likea mockery , —~ angers me like an insolence . Butonly for a moment ! With the utterance of thesyllables to-day ,

” that deep , grim voice suddenlybreaks into a quivering tenderness indescribable ;then , marvellously changing , it mellows into tonessonorous and rich as the bass of a great organ

,

while a sensation unlike anything ever felt beforetakes me by the throat . What witchcraft hashe learned this scowling man of the road ?Oh ! is there anybody else in the whole world whocan sing like that ? And the form of thesinger flickers and dims ; and the house , and thelawn , and all visible shapes of things tremble andswim before me . Yet instinctively I fear that man ;I almost hate him ; and I feel myself flushing with

anger and shame because of his power to move me

thus .“He made you cry , Robert compassionately

observes , to my further confusion , as the harperstrides away , richer by a gift of S ixpence takenwithout thanks . “But I think he must be agipsy . Gipsies are bad people and they arewizards . Let us go back to the wood .

We climb again to the pines , and there squat downupon the sun-flecked grass , and look over town andsea . But we do not play as before : the spell of thewizard is strong upon us both .

“Perhaps he isa goblin ,

” I venture at last , or a fairy ?” “N

says Robert “ only a gipsy . But that is nearly asbad . They steal children

,you know .

”

BOYHOOD 15

What shall we do if he comes up here ? I gasp ,in sudden terror at the lonesomeness of our situation .

“Oh , he would n’t dare,

” answers Robert “not

by daylight , you know .

”

!Only yesterday , near the village of Takata, Inoticed a flower which the Japanese call by nearlythe same name as we do, H imawa ri , The Sunwardturning ,

” and over the space of forty years therethrilled back tome the voice of thatwandering harper .

Again I saw the sun-flecked shadows on thatfar Welsh hill ; and Robert for a moment again stoodbeside me , with his girl

’s face and his curls of gold .!

Recorded in this artless story are the most vividsuggestions of the nature of the boy who was tobe father of the man Lafcadio Hearn , the minuteobservation , the quivering sensitiveness to tones , toexpressions , to colours and odours ; profound passions of tenderness ; and more than all his nascent interest in the ghostly and the weird . Howgreat a part this latter had already assumed inhis young life one gathers from one of the autobiographic papers found after his death— half adozen fragments of recollection , done exquisitely inhis small beautiful handwriting , and enclosed eachin fine Japanese envelopes . Characteristically theyconcern themselves but little with what are called“ facts ” — though he would have been the last tobelieve that emotions produced by events were notafter all the most salient of human facts .These records of impressions left upon his nature

by the conditions surrounding his early years open

16 LAFCADIO HEARN

a strange tremulous light upon the inner life of thelonely, ardent child , and from the shadows createdby that light one can reconstruct perhaps more clearlythe shapes about him by which those shadows werecast than would have been possible with more directvision of them .

The first of the fragments is called

MY GUARDIAN ANGEL

Weh ! weh !

Du ha st sie zerstort,

D ie schone Wel t !”

FAU ST .

What I am going to relate must have happenedwhen I was nearly six years o ld at which timeI knew a great deal about ghosts , and very littleabout gods .For the best of possible reasons I then believed in

ghosts and in goblins , because I saw them,both

by day and by night . Before going to sleep I Wouldalways cover up my head to prevent them fromlooking at me ; and I used to scream when I felt thempulling at the bedclothes . And I could not understand why I had been forbidden to talk about theseexperiences .But of religion I knew almost nothing . The old

lady who had adopted me intended that I should bebrought up a Roman Catholic ; but she had not yetattempted to give me any definite religious instruction . I had been taught to say a few prayers ; butI repeated them only as a parrot might have done .

I had been taken,without knowing why, to church ;

and I had been given many small pictures edged

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18 LAFCADIO HEARN

nervous child . Certainly it was for no other reasonthat those about me had been ordered not to tell meeither ghost-stories or fairy-tales , and that I hadbeen strictly forbidden to speak of ghosts . But inspite of such injunctions I was doomed to learn

,

quite unexpectedly , something about goblins muchgrimmer than any which had been h aunting me .

This undesirable information was given to me bya friend of the family , a visitor .Our visitors were few ; and their visits , as a rule.

were brief. But we had one privileged visitor whocame regularly each autumn to remain until thefollowing spring , a convert , a tall girl wholooked like some of the long angels in my Frenchpictures . At that time I must have been incapableof forming certain abstract conceptions ; but she gaveme the idea of Sorrow as a dim something that shepersonally represented . She was not a relation ; butI was told to call her “ Cousin Jane .

” For the restof the household she was simply “Miss Jane ;

” andthe room that she used to occupy, upon the thirdfloor, was always referred to as Miss Jane

’s room .

I heard it said that she passed her summers in someconvent , and that she wanted to become a nun . Iasked why she did not become a nun ; and I was toldthat I was too young to understand .

She seldom smiled ; and I never heard her laugh ;she had some secret grief of which only my agedprotector knew the nature . Although handsome ,young, and rich , she was always severely dressed inblack . Her face , notwithstanding its constant lookof sadness , was beautiful ; her hair, a dark chestnut ,

BOYHOOD 19

was so curly that , however smoothed or braided , italways seemed to ripple ; and her eyes , rather deeplyset

,were large and black . Also I remember that her

voice,though musical , had a peculiar metallic tone

which I did not like .

Yet she could make that voice surprisingly tenderwhen speaking to me . Usually I found her kind,often more than kind ; but there were times when shebecame so silent and sombre that I feared to approachher . And even in her most affectionate moodseven when caressing me—she remained strangelysolemn . In such moments she talked to me aboutbeing good , about being truthful , about beingobedient , about trying

“to please God .

” I detestedthese exhortations . My old relative had never talkedto me in that way. I did not fully understand ;I only knew that I was being found fault with , andI suspected that I was being pitied .

And one morning (I remember that it was agloomy winter morning) , losing patience at lastduring one of these tiresome admonitions , I boldlyasked Cousin Jane to tell me why I should try toplease God more than to please anybody else . I wasthen sitting on a little stool at her feet . Never can Iforget the look that darkened her features as I putthe question . At once she caught me up , placed meupon her lap , and fixed her black eyes upon my facewith a piercing earnestness that terrified me , as sheexclaimed

“My child ! is it possible that you do not knowwho God is ?”

“No ,

” I answered in a choking whisper .

20 LAFCADIO HEARN

God ' God who made you ! God who madethe sun and the moon and the sky, and the treesand the beautiful flowers , everything ! You

do not know ?”

I was too much alarmed by her manner toreply .

1

You do not know , she went on, that God madeyou and me ? —that God made your father andyour mother and everybody ? You do notknow about Heaven and Hell ?I do not remember all the rest of her words ; I can

recall with distinctness only the following :“ and send you down to Hell to burn alive in

fire for ever and ever ! Think of it ! alwaysburning , burning , burning ! screaming and burning ! screaming and burning ! —never to be savedfrom that pain of fire ! You remember whenyou burned your finger at the lamp ? Think ofyour whole body burning, always , always , alwaysburning ! for ever and ever !”

I can still see her face as in the instant of thatutterance ,— the horror upon it , and the pain .

Then she suddenly burst into tears , and kissed me ,and left the room .

From that time I detested Cousin Jane, becauseshe had made me unhappy in a new and irreparableway . I did not doubt what she had said ; but I hatedher for having said it , perhaps especially for thehideous way in which she had said it . Even now hermemory revives the dull pain of the childish hypocrisywith which I endeavoured to conceal my resentment . When she left us in the spring, I hoped that

BOYHOOD

she would soon die , so that I might never see herface again .

But I was fated to meet her again under strangecircumstances . I am not sure whether it was in thelatter part of the summer that I next saw her

, or

early in the autumn ; I remember only that it was inthe evening and that the weather was still pleasantlywarm . The sun had set ; but there was a cleartwilight , full of soft colour ; and in that twilight-timeI happened to be on the lobby of the third floor

,

all by myself.I do not know why I had gone up there alone ;

pe rhaps I was looking for some toy . At all eventsI was standing in the lobby, close to the head of thestairs , when I noticed that the door of Cousm Jane

’sroom seemed to be ajar. Then I saw it slowlyOpening . The fact surprised me because that doorthe farthest one of three opening upon the lobbywas usually locked . Almost at the same moment

Cousin Jane herself, robed in her familiar black dresscame out of the room , and advanced towards mebut with her head turned upwards and sidewards , asif she were looking at something on the lobby-wall ,close to the ceiling. I cried out in astonishment ,“ Cousin Jane !” — but she did not seem to hear .She approached slowly, still with her head so thrownback that I could see nothing of her face abovethe chin ; then she walked directly past me into theroom nearest the stairway, a bedroom of whichthe door was always left Open by day . Even as shepassed I did not see her face , only her whitethroat and chin , and the gathered mass of her b eauti

22 LAFCADIO HEARN

ful hair . Into the bedroom I ran after her, callingout ,

“ Cousin Jane ! Cousin Jane !” I saw her passround the foot of a great four-pillared bed , as if toapproach the window beyond it ; and I followed herto the other side of the bed . Then , as if first aware ofmy presence , she turned ; and I looked up , expectingto meet her smile . She had no face . There wasonly a pale blur instead of a face . And even as Istared , the figure vanished . It did not fade ; it simplyceased to be , like the shape of a flame blown out .

I was alone in that darkening room , and afraid ,as I had never before been afraid . I did not scream ;I wa s much too frightened to scream , I onlystruggled to the head of the stairs , and stumbled , andfell , rolling over and over down to the next lobby .

I do not remember being hurt ; the stair-carpets weresoft and very thick . The noise of my tumble broughtimmediate succour and sympathy . But I did not saya word about what I had seen ; I knew that I shouldbe punished if I spoke of it .Now some weeks or months later, at the beginning

of the cold season , the real Cousin Jane came backone morning to occupy that room upon the thirdfloor . She seemed delighted to meet me again ; andshe caressed me so fondly that I felt ashamed of mysecret dismay at her return . On the very same dayshe took me out with her for a walk , and bought me

cakes , toys , pictures , a multitude of things ,carrying all the packages herself. I ought to havebeen grateful , if not happy . But the generous shamethat her caresses had awakened was already gone ;and that memory of which I could speak to no one

BOYHOOD 23

least of all to her again darkened my thoughtsas we walked together. This Cousin Jane who wasbuying me toys , and smiling, and chatting, was only ,perhaps , the husk of another Cousin Jane that hadno face . Before the brilliant shops , among thecrowds of happy people , I had nothing to fear. Butafterwards after dark might not the Inner disengage herself from the other, and leave her room ,

and glide to mine with chin upturned , as if staring atthe ceiling ? Twilight fell before we reachedhome ; and Cousin Jane had ceased to speak or smile .

No doubt she was tired . But I noticed that hersilence and her sternness had begun with the gathering of the dusk , and a chill crept over me .

Nevertheless , I passed a merry evening with mynew toys , which looked very beautiful under thelamplight . Cousin Jane played with me until bedtime . Next morning she did not appear at the breakfast-table I was told that she had taken a badcold , and could not leave her bed . She never againleft it alive ; and I saw her no more , except indreams . Owing to the dangerous nature of the consumption that had attacked her, I was not allowedeven to approach her room . She left her moneyto somebody in the convent which she used to visit ,and her books to me .

If, at that time , I could have dared to speak of theother Cousin Jane , somebody might have thoughtproper in view of the strange sequel to tell methe natural history of such apparitions . But I couldnot have believed the explanation . I understood onlythat I had seen ; and because I had seen I was afraid .

24 LAFCADIO HEARN

And the memory of that seeing disturbed me morethan ever, after the coffin of Cousin Jane had beencarried away . The knowledge of her death had filledme , not with sorrow, but with terror . Once I hadwished that she were dead . And the wish had beenfulfilled but the punishment was yet to come !D im thoughts , dim fears enormously

"

older thanthe creed of Cousin Jane awakened within me

,

as from some prenatal sleep , especially a horrorof the dead as evil beings , hating mankind .

Such horror exists in savage minds , accompanied bythe vague notion that character is totally transformedor stripped by death , —that those departed , whoonce caressed and smiled and loved , now menaceand gibber and hate . What power, I askedmyself in dismay, could protect me from her visits ?I had not yet ceased to believe in the God of CousinJane ; but I doubted whether he would or could doanything for me . Moreover, my creed had beengreatly shaken by the suspicion that Cousin Jane hadalways lied . How often had she not assured methat I could not see ghosts or evil spirits ! Yet theThing that I had seen was assuredly her inside-self,the ghost of the goblin of her, and utterly evil .

Evidently she hated me : she had lured me into alonesome room for the sole purpose of making mehideously afraid . And why had she hated methus before she died ? —was it because she knewthat I hated her, — that I had wished her to die ?Yet how did she know ? could the ghost of her see ,through blood and flesh and bone , into the miserablelittle ghost of myself ?

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26 LAFCADIO HEARN

little pagan Greek soul was hardening itself thusearly against the strong fingers endeavouring to

shape the tendencies of his thought into forms entirelyalien to it .

Ah , Psyche, from the regions whichA re HolyLand

The early Church did not teach that the godsof the heathen were merely brass and stone . Onthe contrary she accepted them as real and form idable personalities demons who had assumed divinity to lure their worshippers to destruction . Itwas in reading the legends of that Church , and thelives of her saints , that I obtained my first vaguenotions of the pagan godI then imagined those gods to resemble in some

sort the fairies and the goblins of my nursery-tales,

or the fairies in the ballads of Sir Walter Scott .Goblins and their kindred interested me much morethan the ugly Saints of the Pictorial Church History ,much more than even the slender angels of my

French religious prints , who unpleasantly remindedme of Cousin Jane . Besides , I could not help sus

pecting all the friends of Cousin Jane’s God , and

feeling a natural sympathy with his enemies ,whether devils , goblins , fairies , witches , or heathendeities . To the devils indeed because I supposedthem stronger than the rest— I had often prayedfor help and friendship ; very humbly at first , andin great fear of being too grimly answered , —but

BOYHOOD 27

afterwards with words of reproach on finding thatmy condescensions had been ignored .

But in spite of their indifference , my sympathywith the enemies of Cousin Jane’s God steadilystrengthened ; and my interest in all the spirits thatthe Church History called evil, especiallytheheathen gods , continued to grow . And at last oneday I discovered , in one unexplored corner of ourlibrary , several beautiful books about art , greatfolio books containing figures of gods and of demigods , athletes and heroes , nymphs and fauns andnereids , and all the charming monsters half-man ,half-animal of Greek mythology .

How my heart leaped and fluttered on that happyday ! Breathless I gazed ; and the longer that Igazed the more unspeakably lovely those faces andforms appeared . Figure after figure dazzled,astounded , bewitched me . And this new delightwas in itself a wonder, also a fear . Somethingseemed to be thrilling out of those pictured pages ,something invisible that made me afraid . I re

membered stories of the infernal magic that informed the work of the pagan statuaries . But thissuperstitious fear presently yielded to a conviction,or rather intuition — which I could not possiblyhave explained — that the gods had been beliedbeca use they were beautiful .

(Blindly and gropingly I had touched atruth , —the ugly truth that beauty of the highestorder, whether mental , or moral , or physical , mustever be hated by the many and loved only by the

And these had been called devils ! I

28 LAFCADIO HEARN

adored them ! —I loved them I— I promised to

detest forever all who refused them reverence !Oh ! the contrast between that immortal lovelinessand the squalor of the saints and the patriarchsand the prophets of my religious pictures ! a contrast indeed as of heaven and hell . In thathour the mediaeval creed seemed to me the veryreligion of ugliness and of hate . And as it had beentaught to me , in the weakness of my sickly childhood , it certainly was . And even to-day , in Spite oflarger knowledge , the words

“ heathen ” and “

pa

gan ” however ignorantly used in scorn revivewithin me o ld sensations of light and beauty , offreedom and joy .

Only with much effort can I recall these scatteredmemories of boyhood ; and in telling them I am

well aware that a later and much more artificialSelf is constantly trying to speak in the place of theSelf that was , thus producing obvious incongruities . Before trying to relate anything more concerning the experiences of the earlier Self, I may aswell here allow the Interrupter an opportunity totalk .

The first perception of beauty ideal is never acognition , but a recognition. N o mathematical orgeometrical theory of aesthetics will ever interpretthe delicious shock that follows upon the boy’s firstvision of beauty supreme . He himself could noteven try to explain why the newly-seen form ap

pears to him lovelier than aught upon earth . Heonly feels the sudden power that the vision exerts

BOYHOOD Q9

upon the mystery of his own life , and that feelingis but dim deep memory, a blood-remembrance .

Many do not remember, and therefore cannot seeat any period of life . There are myriad minds

no more capable of perceiving the higher beautythan the blind wan fish of caves offspring of genera tions that swam in total darkness is capableof feeling the gladness of light . Probably the raceproducing minds like these had no experience ofhigher things , never beheld the happier vanishedworld of immortal art and thought . Or perhaps insuch minds the higher knowledge has been effacedor blurred by long dull superimposition of barbarian inheritance .

But he who receives in one sudden vision therevelation of the antique beauty he who knowsthe thrill divine that follows after, — the unutterable mingling of delight and sadness , he remem

bers ! Somewhere , at some time , in the ages of afiner humanity, he must have lived with beauty .

Three thousand four thousand years ago : itmatters not ; what thrills him now is the shadowingof what has been, the phantom of rapture forgotten .

Without inherited sense of the meaning of beautyas power, of the worth of it to life and love , nevercould the ghost in him perceive , however dimly, thepresence of the gods .Now I think that something of the ghostliness in

this present shell of me must have belonged to thevanished world of beauty, must have mingledfreely with the best of its “youth and grace andforce , must have known the worth of long light

30 LAFCADIO HEARN

limbs on the course of glory , and the pride of thewinner in contests , and the praise of maidens statelyas that young sapling of a palm , which Odysseusbeheld

,springing by the altar in Delos . All

this I am able to believe , because I could feel , whileyet a boy , the divine humanity of the ancientgods .But this new-found delight soon became for me

the source of new sorrows . I was placed with allmy small belongings under religious tutelage ; andthen , of course , my reading was subjected to severeexamination . One day the beautiful books disappeared ; and I was afraid to ask what hadbecome of them . After many weeks they were re

turned to their former place ; and my joy at seeingthem again was of brief duration . All of them hadbeen unmercifully revised . My censors had beenoffended by the nakedness of the gods , and hadundertaken to correct that impropriety . Parts of

m any figures , dryads , naiads , graces , muses hadbeen found too charming and erased with a penknife ; I can still recall one beautiful seatedfigure , whose breasts had been thus excised . Evi

dently“ the breasts of the nymphs in the brake ”

had been found too charming : dryads , naiads ,graces and muses all had been rendered breastless . And , in most cases , drawers had been putupon the gods even upon the tiny Loves largebaggy bathing-drawers , woven with cross-strokesof a quill-pen, so designed as to conceal all curves ofbeauty, especially the lines of the long fine thighs .

However, in my case , this barbarism proved

BOYHOOD 3 1

of som e educational value . It furnished me withmany problems of restoration ; and I often triedvery hard to reproduce in pencil-drawing the ob l itera ted or the hidden line . In this I was not successfu l ; but , in spite of the amazing thoroughnesswith which every mutilation or effacement had beenaccomplished

,my patient study of the methods of

attack enabled me — long before I knew Winckelmann to understand how Greek artists had idealiz ed the human figure . Perhaps that is why ,in after years

,few modern representations of the

nude could interest me for any length of time .

However graceful at first sight the image mightappear, something commonplace would presentlybegin to reveal itself in the lines of those veryforms against which my early tutors had wagedsuch implacable war .Is it not almost invariably true that the modern

naked figure , as chiselled or painted , sha dows something of the modern living model , something,therefore , of individual imperfection ? Only theantique work of the grand era is superindividual ,reflecting the ideal—supreme in the soul of a

race . Many , I know , deny this ; but do wenot remain , to some degree , barbarians still ? Eventhe good and great Ruskin , on the topic of Greekart , spake often like a Goth . D id he not call theMedicean Venus “ an uninteresting little person ”

?

Now after I had learned to know and to love theelder gods , the world again began to glow aboutme . Glooms that had brooded over it slowly thinned

32 LAFCADIO HEAR N

away . The terror was not yet gone ; but I nowwanted only reasons to disbelieve all that I fearedand hated . In the sunshine , in the green of thefields , in the blue of the sky , I found a gladnessbefore unknown . Within myself new thoughts , newimaginings , dim longings for I knew not what werequickening and thrilling . I looked for beauty, andeverywhere found it : in passing faces in attitudesand motions , in the poise of plants and trees ,in long white clouds , in faint-blue lines of far

off hills . At moments the simple pleasure of lifewould quicken to a joy so large , so deep , that itfrightened me . But at other times there wouldcome to me a new and strange sadness. a shadowyand inexplicable pain .

I had entered into my Renaissance .

Already must have begun the inevitable fissurebetween himself and his pious protectress , and one

may imagine the emotions of his spiritual pastorsand masters aroused by such an incident as thisrelated in one of his letters of later years“This again reminds me of something . When I

was a boy I had to go to confession , and my confessions were honest ones . One day I told theghostly father that I had been guilty of desiringthat the devil would come to me in the shape of

the beautiful women in which he came to theanchorites in the desert , and that I thought Ishould yield to such temptations . He was a grimm anwho rarely showed emotion, myconfessor, but

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34 LAFCAD IO HEARN

subject his only reply was , You don’t know theChurch as I do ;

” and several curious coincidencesin crises Of his career seemed to him to justify andconfirm this belief.Of the course and character of his education but

little is known . He is said to have spent two yearsin a Jesuit college in the north of France

,where he

probably acquired his intimate and accurate knowledge of the French tongue . He was also for a timeat Ushaw, the Roman Catholic college at Durham ,

1

1 A cousin writes of him at this period : I remember him a boy with agrea t taste for drawing . Very near-sighted, but so tender and ca reful of me

as a l ittle chil d . H e was at a priest’s college where I was ta kenby mygrandaunt (who had adopted him) , to see him . I remember his tak ing me up

sta irs to look at the school-room , and on the way bidding me bow to an

image of the Virgin, which I refused to do. H e became very much ex citedand begged me to tell him the reason of myrefusal . H e a lways seemed verymuch in earnest, and to have a very sens itive na ture .

A fellow-pupil at Ushaw says of him :

“My acquaintance with him began a t Ushaw college , near Durham .

D iscover ing that we had some tas tes in common, we chummed a good dea l ,discussing our favourite authors, which inLafcadio’s ca se were chiefly poets ,though he also took considerable interest in books of travel and adventure .

Even then his style was remarkable for graphic power, combined with graceful ex pression. H e was of a very speculative turn Of m ind, and I havea lively recol lection of the shock it occasioned to several of us when he one

day announced his disbelief in the Bible . I am Of Opinion, however, that hewas then. only posing as an esprit fort, for a few days af terwards, during a

walk with the class in the country, he returned to this subject in discussionwith a master , and I inferred from what he said to me that he was quitesa tisfied with the evidences of the truth Of the Scriptures . It is interesting inconnectionwith this to recall his subsequent adoptionof Buddhism . I am ratherinclined to think that ineither 1864 or 1865 Lafcadio devoted more attentiontogeneral literature than to his school studies, as (if mymemory does not playme fal se) he was ‘

turned back ’onour class moving into ‘Grammar .

’

“Longfellow was one of his favour ite poets , his beautiful imagery and

felicity of expression appealing with peculiar force to a kindred soul . H e

was fond Of repeating scraps of poetry descriptive of heroic combats , featsof arms , or Of the prowess of the Baresarks , or Berserkers , as described inNorse sagas . H e used to dwell with peculiar satisfaction on the line :

‘Like Thor’s hammer, huge and dinted, wa s his horny hand .

’

BOYHOOD 3 5

and here occurred one of the greatest misfortunesof his life . In playing the game known as “TheGiant’s Stride ” he was accidentally blinded in oneeye by the knotted end of a rope suddenly releasedfrom the hand of one Of his companions . In con

sequence Of this the work thrown upon the othereye by the enormous labours of his later years kepthim in constant terror of complete loss of sight .In writing and reading he used a glass so largeand heavy as to oblige him to have it mounted ina handle and to hold it to his eye like a lorgnette

,

and for distant observation he carried a smallfolding telescope .

The slight disfigurement , too , it was nevergreat , — wa s a source of perpetual distress . Heimagined that others , more particularly women ,found him disgu sting and repugnant in couse

quence of the film that clouded the iris .This accident seems to have ended

"

his career atUshaw, for his name appears upon the rolls for1865 , when he was in his sixteenth year, and in aletter written in Japan to one Of his pupils , whomhe reproves for discouragement because of an interruption of his studies caused by illness , he says

“A little bodily sickness may come to any one .

Many students die , many go mad , many do foolishthings and ruin themselves for life . You are good

Lafcadio was proud of his biceps , and on repeating this l ine he would bendhis right a rm and grasp the muscle with his left hand . I Often addressedhim as ‘

The M an of Gigantic Muscle .

’ After he went to America I hadlittle communica tion with him beyond, I think, one letter. We then drifteddifferent ways . H e was a very lovable chara cter, ex trem ely sympatheticand sincere .

”

36 LAFCADIO HEARN

at your studies , and mentally in sound health , andsteady in your habits three conditions whichought to mean success . You have good eyes anda clear brain . H ow many thousands fail for wantof these ?When I was a boy Of sixteen , although my

blood relations were some of them — very rich,

no one would pay anything to help me finish myeducation . I had to become what you never havehad to become a servant . I partly lost mysight .I had two years of sickness in bed . I had no one

to help me . And I had to educate myself in spiteof all difficulties . Yet I was brought up in a richhome , surrounded with every luxury of Westernlife .

“ So , my dear boy , do not lie there in your bedand fret , and try to persuade yourself that you areunfortunate .

This is the only light to be found upon thosethree dark years between his leaving Ushaw andhis arrival in America . The rupture with his grandaunt was complete . Among the fanatic convertswere not wanting those to widen the breach madeby the pagan fancies of the boy . Her property ,which he had been encouraged to look upon as hisinheritance , was dribbling away in the hands ofthose whose only claim to business ability was theirreligious convictions , and a few years after theirseparation her death put an end to any efforts atreconciliation and showed what great financial sacrifices she had made in the interests o f her faith .

Some provision was made for him in her wil l , but

BOYHOOD 37

he put forward no claims , and the property wasfound practically to have vanished .

T o what straits the boy was driven at this timein his friendlessness there is no means of knowing .

One of his companions at Ushaw says :“ In 1866 I left Ushaw, and I am unable to recall

now whether he was there at that time . I hadseveral letters from him subsequently , at a timewhen he was suffering the peine forte ci dure ofdirect penury in London . In some evil quarter bythe Thames poverty obliged him to take refuge inthe workhouse . In a letter received from him whileliving in that dreadful place , he described thesights and sounds Of horror which even then preferred the shade of night of windows thrown viol entlyOpen , or shattered to pieces , shrieks of agony ,or cries of murder, followed by a heavy plunge inthe river .”

The reference in the Japanese letter mentionedabove is the only one to be found in his correspondence , and in even the most intimate talk withfriends he avoided reference to this period as onetoo painful for confidence . Another fragment of

the autobiography '“ Stars can , however, be

guessed to refer to an experience of this crueltime .

“ I take Off my clothes , - few and thin , androll them up into a bundle , to serve me for a pil

' low : then I creep naked into the hay Oh ,the delight Of my hay-bed the first bed of anysort for many a long night !— Oh , the pleasure ofthe sense of rest ! The sweet scent of the hay !

38 LAFCADIO HEARN

Overhead , through a skylight , I see starssharply shining : there is frost in the air .

“The horses , below , stir heavily at moments , andpaw . I hear them breathe ; and their breath comesup to me in steam . The warmth of their greatbodies fills the building , penetrates the hay , quickens my blood ; their life is my fire .

“SO contentedly they breathe ! They must be

aware that I am here nestling in their hay . Butthey do not mind ; and for that I am grateful .Grateful , too , for the warmth of their breath , thewarmth of their pure bodies , the warmth of theirgood hay , grateful even for those stirrings whichthey make in their rest , filling the dark with assurance of large dumb tolerant companionship .

I wish I could tell them how thankful I am ,

how much I like them ,—what pleasure I feel in

the power that proceeds from them , in the sense offorce and life that they spread through the silence ,like a large warm Soul .

“ It is better that they cannot understand . Forthey earn their good food and lodging ; they earnthe care that keeps them glossy and beautiful ;they are of use in the world . And of what use inthe world am I ?

“Those sharply shining stars are suns , —enormous suns . They must be giving light to multitudes unthinkable of other worlds . In someof those other worlds there must be cities , andcreatures resembling horses , and stables for them ,

and hay , and small things somewhat like rats ormice hiding in the hay . I know that there

BOYHOOD 39

are a hundred millions Of suns . The horses do notknow . But , nevertheless , they are worth , I havebeen told , fifteen hundred dollars each : they aresuperior beings ! How much am I worth ?

TO-morrow, after they have been fed , I alsoshall be fed by kindly stealth ; and I shall nothave earned the feeding , in spite of the fact that Iknow there are hundreds of mill ions of suns !”

Sometime during the year 1869 the exact datecannot be ascertained Lafcadio Hearn, nineteenyears O ld, penniless , delicate , half-blind , and without a friend , found himself in the streets Of NewYork.

CHAPTER II

TH E A R TIST’s APPRENTICESH IP

IT is more than doubtful if any individual amid thehurrying multitudes swarming in the streets of NewYork in 1869 and 1870 ever noticed with interestthough many of them must have seen - the shy ,shabby boy , Lafcadio Hearn . He was thin to a t

tenu a tion, for his meals were scant and uncertain ;his dress was threadbare , for in all the two yearshe never possessed enough money to renew the garments he had worn upon landing , and his sh ab b iness must have been extreme , for he had duringthe greater part of that period no home other thana carpenter’s shop , where a friendly Irish workmanallowed him to sleep on the shavings and cook hismeals upon the small stove , in return for a littlerough book-keeping and running Of errands . Yeta few may have turned for a second glance at thedark face and eagle profile of the emaciated , un

kempt boy , though unsuspecting that this was onefew in each generation of those who have

dreamed the Dream , and seen the Vision , thathere was one of those whom Socrates termeddaemonic .

” One who had looked in secret places ,face to face , upon the magic countenance of theMuse , and was thereafter vowed to the quest ofthe Holy Cup wherein glows the essential blood of

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42 LAFCADIO HEARN

pleasure was to wander about the streets of thetown , trying to find in passing faces faces Ofgirls —some realization of certain ideals . And Ifound an almost equal pleasure in looking at thephotographs placed on display at the doors of

photographers’ shops , called , in that place andtime ,

“ galleries .” Picture—galleries they were indeed for me , during many, many penniless months .One day, in a by—street , I discovered a new

photographer’s shop ; and in a glass case , at theentrance , I beheld a face the first sight of whichleft me breathless with wonder and delight , aface incomparably surpassing all my dreams . Itwas the face Of a young woman wearing , for headdress , something that looked like an embroideredscarf ; and this extraordinary head-dress might havebeen devised for the purpose of displaying, toartistic advantage , the singular beauty of the features . The gaze of the large dark eyes was piercingand calm ; the aquiline curve of the nose was clearas the curve of a sword ; the mouth was fine , butfirm ; and , in spite of the sensitive delicacy of

this face , there was a something accipitrine aboutit , something sinister and superb , that made methink of a falcon For a long , long time Istood looking at it , and the more I looked , themore the splendid wonder of it seemed to growlike a fascination . I thought that I would suffermuch ever so much ! for the privilege of worshipping the real woman . But who was she ? Idared not ask the owner of the “ gallery ;

” and Icould not think of any other means of finding out .

TH E ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 4 3

I had one friend in those days , the only fellowcountryman whom I knew in that American town,a man who had preceded me into exile by nearlyforty years , and to him I went . With all of myboyish enthusiasms he used to feel an amused sympathy ; and when I told him about my discovery , he atonce proposed to go with me to the photograph-shop .

For several moments he studied the picture insilence , knitting his grey brows with a puzzledexpression . Then he exclaimed emphatically,That is not an American .

”

What do you think Of the face ?” I queried ,anxiously .

It is a wonderful face , he answered , a verywonderful face . But it is not an American , nor anEnglish face .

”

“ Spanish ?” I suggested . Or Italian ?N0 , no ,

” he returned , very positively . It is nota European face at all .”

“Perhaps a Jewess ? I ventured .

No ; there are very beautiful Jewish faces , butnone like that .”

“ Then what can it be ?I do not know ; there is some strange blood

there .

How can you tell ?” I protested .

Why , I feel it ; I am quite sure of it . Butwait here a moment ! I know this photographer,and I shall ask him .

”

And , to my delight , he went in . Alas ! theriddle was not to be solved so quickly as we hadhoped . The owner of the picture said that he did

4 4 LAFCADIO HEARN

not know whose portrait it was . He had bought it ,with a number of other “ stock-photographs ,

” froma wholesale dealer l I1 photographic wares . It hadbeen taken in Paris ; but the card upon which it wasnow mounted did not bear the name of the Frenchphotographer .Now my friend was a wanderer whose ties with

England had been broken before I was born ; heknew the most surprising things about weird placesand strange peoples , but had long ceased to feel anyinterest in the life of the mother country . For thatreason , probably, the picture proved not less of ariddle to him than to me . The photographer wasa young man who had never left his native state ;and his stock-in-trade had been obtained , of course ,through an agency . As for myself, I was hopelesslyseparated , by iron circumstances , from that orderedsociety which seeks its pleasures in art and musicand drama . Otherwise , how easily might I havelearned the name of the marvellous being who hadcast that shadow ! But many long years went bybefore I learned it .I had then forgotten all about the picture . I was

in a Southern city, hundreds Of miles away ; and Ihappened to be leaning on the counter of a druggist’s shop

,talking to the druggist , when I suddenly

perceived , in a glass case at my elbow, the verysame enigmatic photograph . It had been pasted , asa label , on the lid of some box of cosmetic . Andagain there tingled , through all my blood , the samethrill of wonder and delight that I had felt as a boy ,at the door of that photographer

TH E ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 4 5

Excuse me for interrupting you a moment , Iexclaimed ; please tell me whose face is that .The druggist glanced at the photograph , and then

smiled as people smile at silly questions .“ Is it possible that you do not know ?” he t e

sponded.

I do not , I said . Years ago I saw that photograph and I could not find out whose picture it was .”

“You are joking !”

Really I am not , I said ; and I very muchwant to know .

”

Then he told me— but I need not repeat thename of the great tragédienne . At once flashedback to me the memory of my O l d friend’s declaration : “

There is some strange bl ood there . Afterall , he was right ! In the veins of that wonderfulwoman ran the blood of Indian kings .

What drove him at the end of the two years toendeavour to reach Cincinnati , Ohio , is not clear .The only light to be gathered upon the subject isfrom the fifth part of the autobiographical fragments ,which suggests that he made the journey in anemigrant train and had not money for food upon theway . After thirty years , the clearest memory of thatdolorous pilgrimage was of the distress Of beingmisunderstood by the friendly girl who pitied hissufl’erings . The record of it bears the title of

MY FIRST ROMANCEThere has been sent to me , across the world , a

little book stamped , on‘its yellow cover, with names

4 6 LAFCAD IO H EARN

of Scandinavian publishers , names sounding of

storm and strand and surge . And the sight of thosenames , worthy of Frost-Giants , evokes the vision ofa face , —simply because that face has long beenassociated , in my imagination , with legends andstories of the North especially , I think , with thewonderful stories of Bj

'

Ornstjerne Bj'

ornson .

It is the face of a Norwegian peasant-girl ofnineteen summers , —fair and ruddy and strong .

She wears her national costume : her eyes are greylike the sea , and her bright braided hair is tied with ablue ribbon . She is tall ; and there is an appearanceof strong grace about her, for which I can find noword . Her name I never learned , and never shall beable to learn ; and now it does not matter . Bythis time she may have grandchildren not a few .

But for me she will always b e the maiden of nineteensummers , — fair and fresh from the land of theH rimthursa r , a daughter of gods and Vikings .From the moment of seeing her I wanted to die forher ; and I dreamed of Va lkyrjor and of Va l a -maids ,of F reyja and of Gerda .

She is seated , facing me , in an American railroad-car, a third-class car , full of people whoseforms have become indistinguishably dim in memory.

She alone remains luminous , vivid : the rest havefaded into shadow,

— all except a man , sittingbeside me , whose dark Jewish face , homely andkindly , is still visible in profile . Through the windowon our right she watches the strange new worldthrough which we are passing : there is a trembling

THE ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 4 7

beneath us , and a rhythm of thunder, while the trainsways like a ship in a storm .

An emigrant—train it is ; and she , and I , and allthose dim people are rushing westward , ever westward , through days and nights that seem preternaturally large , over distances that are monstrous . The light is Of a summer day ; andshadows slant to the east .The man beside me saysShe must leave us to-morrow ; she goes to

Redwing , Minnesota . You like her very much ?yes , she

’s a fine girl . I think you wish that you

were also going to Redwing , Minnesota ?”

I do not answer . I am angry that he should knowwhat I wish . And it is very rude of him , I think, tolet me know that he knows .Mischievously , he continues“ If you like her so much , why don

’t you talk toher ? Tell me what you would like to say to her ;and I ’ll interpret for you . Bah ! you must notbe afraid of the girls !”

Oh ! the idea of telling him what I should liketo say to her ! Yet it is not possible to see himsmile, and to remain vexed with him .

Anyhow , I do not feel inclined to talk . For thirtyeight hours I have not eaten anything ; and myromantic dreams ,nourishedwith tobacco-smoke only,are frequently interrupted by a sudden inner achingthat makes me wonder how long I shall be able toremain without food . Three more days of railroadtravel and no money ! My neighbour yesterdayasked me why I did not eat ; how quickly

48 LAFCADIO HEARN

he changed the subject when I told him ! CertainlyI have no right to complain : there is no reason whyhe should feed me . And I reflect upon the folly of

improvidence .

Then my reflection is interrupted by the apparitionof a white hand holding out to me a very , very largeslice Of brown bread , with an inch-thick

,

cut of

yellow cheese thereon ; and I look up , hesitating ,into the face Of the Norwegian girl . Smiling , shesays to me , in English , with a pretty childish accent :

“Take it , and eat it .”

I take it , and devour it . Never before nor s incedid brown bread and cheese seem to me so good .

Only after swallowing the very last crumb do I suddenlybecome aware that , in my surprise and hunger,I forgot to thank her . Impulsively , and at the wrongm oment , I try to say some grateful words .Instantly , and up to the roots of her hair, she

flushes crimson : then , bending forward , she putssome question in a clear sharp tone that fills me withfear and shame . I do not understand the question :I understand only that she is angry ; and for one

cowering moment my instinct divines the power andthe depth of Northern anger . My face burns ; andher grey eyes , watching it burn , are grey steel ; andher smile is the smile of a daughter of men wholaugh when they are angry . And I wish myself underthe train, under the earth , utterly out of sightforever . But mydark neighbour makes some l owvoiced protest , assures her that I had only triedto thank her . Whereat the level brows relax, andshe turns away, without a word , to watch the flying

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5 0 LAFCADIO HEARN

The first regular work he Obtained was as atype-setter and proof-reader in the Robert ClarkeCompany, where — as he mentions in one of hisletters he endeavoured to introduce reforms in theAmerican methods of punctuation , and assimilate itmore closely to the English standards , but without ,as he confesses , any success . It was from some ofthese struggles for typographical changes , undertaken with hot-headed enthusiasm for perfection ,that he derived his nickname of

“ Old Semicolon ,”

given him in amiable derision by his fellows . Mechanica l work of this character could not satisfyhim long , though the experience was useful to theyoung artist ln words beginning his laborious selftraining in the use of his tools . Punctuation andtypographical form remained for him always a matter of profound importance, and in one of his lettershe declared that he would rather abandon all theroyalties to his publisher than be deprived of theprivilege of c orrecting his own proofs ; correctionswhich in their amplitude often devoured in printer’scharges the bulk of his profits .Later he secured , for a brief period , a position

as private secretary to Thomas Vickers , at thattime librarian of the public library of Cincinnati ,and here again he found food for his desires in afree access to the recondite matters to whichalready his genius was tending ; but again he wasdriven by poverty and circumstance into broaderfields, and early in 1874 he was working as a general reporter on the Cincinnati Enquirer . Hiswork was Of a kind that gave him at first no scope

LAFCAD IO HEAR NA bout 1873

THE ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 5 1

for his talents and must have been peculiarly un

sympathetic , consisting of daily market reports ,until chance opened the eyes of his employers tohis capacity for better things . A peculiarly atrocions crime , still known in Cincinnati annals as the“ Tannery Murder,

” had been communicated tothe Office of the Enquirer at a moment when all themembers of the stafl, usually detailed to cover suchassignments , were absent . The editor calling uponthe indifferent gods for some one instantly to takeup the matter, was surprised by a timid request fromthe shy cub-reporter who turned in daily market“ stuff, to be allowed to deal with this tragedy

,

and after some demur, he consented to acceptwhat appeared an inadequate answer from theadjured deities . The copy ” submitted some hourslater caused astonished eyebrows , was consideredworthy of “ scare-heads , and for the nine succeeding days of the life of the wonder, Cincinnati soughtardently the H oflm annesque story whose poignantlychosen phrases set before them a grim picture thatcaused the flesh to crawl upon their bones . It wasrealized at once that the cub—reporter had nusus

pected capacities and his talents were allowed ex

pansion in the direction of descriptive stories . Oneof the most admired of these was a record of avisit to the top of the spire Of St . Peter’s Cathedral ,where hauled in ropes by a steeple-jack to the armsof the cross which crowned it , he Obtained a loftyView of the city and returned to write an articlethat enabled all the town to see the great panoramathrough his myopic eyes , which yet could bear tes

5 2 LAFCADIO HEARN

tim ony to colour and detail“not Obvious to clearer

vision .

It was in this year that some trusting personwas found willing to advance a small sum of moneyfor the publication of an amorphous little Sundaysheet , professedly comic and satiric , entitled Ye

Gigl ampz . H . F . Farney contributed the cartoons ,and Lafcadio Hearn the bulk of the text . On Junel t of that year the first number appeared , withthe announcement that it was to be “ publisheddaily , except week days ,

” and was to be “ devotedto art , literature , and satire .

” The first page wasadorned with a D icky D oyl ish picture of HerrKladderadatsch presenting Mr . G igl ampz to anenthusiastic public , which showed decided talent , butthe full page cartoon , though it may have beenamusing when published , is satire turned dry anddusty after the lapse of thirty-two years , and it maybe only vaguely discerned now to refer in some wayto the question of a third term for President Grant .The pictures are easily preferable to the text ,

though no doubt it too has suffered from the desiccation Of time , but Lafcadio Hearn was at notime , one might infer, better fitted for satire thanfor peddling ; Ye Gig l ampz plainly

“ jooks wi’

deefecu l ty,” and the young journalist’s views upon

art and politics are such as might be expected froma boy of twenty-four .The prohibition question , the Chicago fire , a

local river disaster, and the Beecher scandal are alldealt with by pen and pencil , much clipping fromPunch and some translations from the comic

THE ARTIST’S APPRENTICESH IP 5 3

journals of Paris fill the columns , and after nineweeks Ye Gig l ampz met an early and welldeserved death . The only copies of the paper nowknown to be in existence are contained in a boundvolume belonging to Mr . Farney , discovered byhim in a second-hand bookshop , with some pencilnotes in the margin in Hearn’s handwriting . Oneof these notes records that an advertisement— therewere but three in the first number— was never paidfor, so presumably this volume , monument of anunfortunate juvenile exploit , was once in Hearn

’smeagre library, but was discarded when he leftCincinnati .In the following year Hearn had left the En

quirer and was recording the Exposition of 1876 forthe Ga zette, and in the latter part of that year hewas a regular reporter for the Commercia l .

In 1895 writing to Professor Basil Hall Chamb erl a in— Hearn speaks of John Cockerill , thenvisiting Japan , and draws an astonishingly vividpicture Of the editor who was in command of theCincinnati Enquirer in the

’70

’s . These occa

siona l trenchant , accurate sketches from life, to befound here and there in his correspondence , show ashrewdness of judgement and coolness of observationwhich his companions never suspected . He says :

“ I began daily newspaper work in 187 4 , in thecity of Cincinnati , on a paper called the Enquireredited by a sort of furious young man namedCockerill . He was a hard master, a tremendousworker, and a born journalist . I think none of usliked him, but we all admired his ability to run

4 LAFCADIO HEARN

things . He used to swear at us, work us half todeath (never sparing himself) , and he had a roughskill in sarcasm that we were all afraid of. He wa sfresh from the army, and full of army talk . In afew years he had forced up the circulation of thepaper to a very large figure and m ade a fortunefor the proprietor, who got jealous of him and gotrid of him He afterwards took hold Of aSt . Louis paper, then of a New York daily ,the World. He ran the circulation up tonearly a quarter of a million , and again had theproprietor’s jealousy to settle with . He alsobuilt up the A dvert iser , but getting tired , sold out ,and went travelling . Finally Bennett of the H era l d

sends him to Japan at , I believe , a year .“ I met him here to-day and talked over Old times .

He has become much gentler and more pleasant ,and seems to be very kindly . He is also a littlegrey . What I have said about him shows that heis no very common person . The man who canmake three or four fortunes for other men , withoutdoing the same thing for himself, seldom is . Heis not a literary man , nor a well-read man , nor ascholar, but has immense common sense , and alarge experience of life , besides being , in a MarkTwa inish way , much of a humourist .”

Those who knew John Cockerill will find in thisportrait not one line om itted which would make fortruth and sympathy . One Of Hearn’s associates ofthis period

,Joseph Tunison , says of his work

“ In Cincinnati such work was much harder thannow, because more and better work was demanded

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5 6 LAFCADIO HEARN

testimony, though in later years one by one hisearly friendships were chilled and abandoned . Oneof the charges frequently brought against LafcadioHearn by his critics in after years was that he wasinconstant in his relations with his friends . Mr .Tunison says of him

“He had a fashion of dropping his friends one

by one , or of letting them drop him , which comesto the same thing . Whether indifference or suspi

cion was at the bottom of this habit would be hardto say, but he never spoke ill of them afterwards .He seemed to forget all about them , though two orthree acquaintances of his early years of struggl eand privation were always after spoken of with thetenderest regard , and their companionship waseagerly sought whenever this was possible .

”

The charge of inconstancy is , to those who knewLafcadio Hearn well , of a sufficiently serious natureto warrant some analysis at this point , while dealing with the subject of his first intimacies , for upto this period he appears to have had no ties otherthan those , so bitterly ruptured , with the people Of

his own blood , or the mere passing amities ofschool-boy life . That many of his closest friendships were either broken abruptly Or sank intoabeyance is quite true, but the reason for this wasexplicable in several ways . The first and mostcomprehensible cause was his inherent shyness Ofnature and an abnormal sensitiveness , which hisearly experiences intensified to a point not easilyunderstood by those of a naturally self-confidenttemperament unqualified by blighting childish im

TH E ARTIST’S APPRENTICESH IP 5 7

pressions . A look , a word , which to the ordinaryrobust nature would have had no meaning of importance , touched the quivering sensibilities of theman like a searing acid , and stung him to ananguish of resentment and bitterness which nearlyalways seemed fantasticallyout of proportion to theOffender, and this bitterness was usually misjudgedand resented . Only those cursed with similar sensib il ities as tender as the horns of cockledsnails ” could understand and forgive such anidiosyncrasy . It must be remembered that all qualities have their synchronous defects . The naturewhich is as reflective as water to the subtlest shadesof the colour and form of life must of its essentialcharacter be subject to rufflem ent by the lightestbreath of harshness or misconception .

Professor Chamberlain, who himself suffered fromthis tendency to unwarranted estrangement , hasdealt with another phase of the matter with a noblesympathy too rare among Hearn’s friends . He says,in a letter to the biographer :

“The second point was his attitude toward hisfriends , his quondam friends , all Of whom hegradually dropped , with but very few exceptions .Some I know who were deeply and permanentlyirritated by this neglect , or ingratitude , as theytermed it . I never could share such a feeling ,though of course I lamented the severance of connection with one so gifted , and made two or threeattempts at a renewal of intercourse , which weremet at first by cold politeness , afterwards with com

pl ete silence , causing me to desist from further

58 LAFCADIO HEARN

endeavours . The reason I could not resent this wasbecause Lafcadio’s dropping of his friends seemedto me to have its roots in that very quality whichmade the chief charm of his works . I mean hisidealism . Friends , when he first made them , werefor him more than mere mortal men , they stoodendowed with every perfection . He painted themin the beautiful colours of his own fancy, and worshipped them , pouring out at their feet all the passiona te emotionalism of his Greek nature . ButLafcadio was not emotional merely ; another side ofhis mind had the keen insight of a man of science .Thus he soon came to see that his idols had feet ofclay , and being so purely subjective in his judgements he was indignant with them for having , ashe thought , deceived him . Add to this that the rigidcharacter of his philosophical opinions made himperforce despise , as intellectual weaklings , all thosewho did not share them , or shared them only in alukewarm manner, and his disillusionment witha series of friends in whom he had once thought tofind intellectual sympathy is seen to have been inevitable . For no man living , except himself, idolizedHerbert Spencer in his peculiar way ; turning Spencer’s scientific speculations into a kind of mysticism .

This mysticism became a religion to him . Theslightest cavil raised against it was resented by himas a sacrilege . Thus it was hardly possible for himto retain old ties of friendship except with a fewmen whom he met on the plane of every-day lifeapart from the higher intellectual interests . Lafcadio himself was a greater sufferer from all this

THE ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 5 9

than any one else ; for he possessed the affectionatedisposition of a child, and suffered poignantly whensympathy was withdrawn , or what amountedto the same when he himself withdrew it . Hewas much to be pitied , always wishing to love ,and discovering each time that his love had beenm isplaced .

”

To put the matter in its simplest form , he lovedwith a comp l eteness and tenderness extremely rareamong human beings . When he discovered asall who love in this fashion eventually do thatthe Objects of his afl’ection had no such tendernessto give in return , he felt himself both deceived andbetrayed and allowed the relation to pass into thesilence of oblivion .

There is still another facet of this subject which ismade clear by some Of the letters written in the lastyears of his life , when he had withdrawn himselfalmost wholly from intercourse with all save his immediate family . Failing strength warned him that notmany more years remained in which to completehis self-imposed task , and l ike a man who nears hisgoal with shortening breath and labouring pulse ,he let slip one by one every burden , and cast fromhim his dearest possessions , lest even the weight Ofone love should hold him back from the final graspupon the ideal he had so long pursued with avidheart . This matter has been dwelt upon at somelength , and somewhat out of due place , but thecharge of disloyalty to friendship is a serious one ,and a full understanding of the facts upon which itrested is important to a comprehension of the man .

60 LAFCADIO HEARN

In these early days in Cincinnat i , however, noblight had yet come upon his young friendships ,and they proved a source of great delight . Krehbiel was already deeply immersed in studies offolk-songs and folk-music, his collection of whichhas since become famous , and Lafcadio threwhimself with enthusiasm into similar studies , hisnatural love for exotic lore rendering them peculiarlysympathetic to his genius . Together they ransackedthe libraries for discoveries , and sought knowledgeat first hand from wandering minstrels in Chineselaundries , or from the exiles of many lands whogathered in the polyglot slums along the river—banks .In the dedication of

“ Some Chinese Ghosts is recorded an echo of one of these experiences , whenKrehbiel opened the heart of a reserved Orientalto give up to them all his knowledge , by proving thathe himself could play their strange instrumentsand sing their century-Old songs . The dedicationruns thus

To M Y FR IEN D ,

H EN RY E DWAR D KR EHBIEL ,TH E MU SICIAN ,

WH O , SPEAK IN G THE SPEECH or ME LOD Y UNTO THECHILD REN OF T IEN -H IA ,

UNTO THE WAN D ER IN G TS IN G-J IN , WHOSE SK IN SH AVE THE COLOUR OF GOLD ,

MOVED TH EM TO MAK E STR AN GE SOUN D S UPON TH E

SERPENT ~BELLIED SA N -H IEN ;PERSU AD ED THEM To PLAY FOR M E UPON THE

SHR IEK IN G YA -H IEN ;PR EVAILE D ON TH EM To SIN G M E A SON G OF THE IR

THE SON G or M OH LI-WA .

TH E SON G OF THE JASM IN E -FLOWER .

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This dedication is of peculiar interest ; ChineseGhosts has been long out of print , and of the fewcopies issued— nearly the whole edition was destroyed but a handful still exist . It gives a typicalexample of the musical, rhythmic prose which theyoung reporter was endeavouring to master . Hehad fallen under the spell of the French Romanticschool and Of their passion for te mot ju ste, of theirlove for exotic words , of their research for thegrotesque, the fantastic , the bizarre . Already outof his tiny income he was extracting what others inlike case spent upon comforts or pleasures , to buydictionaries and thesauri , and was denying himselffood and clothes to purchase rare books . The worksof Théophil e Gautier were his daily companions ,in which he saturated his mind with fantasies Of

the Orient , Spain, and Egypt , refreshing himselfafter the dull routine of the day’s work with eu

dea vours to transliterate into English the strangeand monstrous tales Of his model , those abnormalimaginations whose alien aroma almost defiedtransference into a less supple tongue .

His friend Tunison, writing of Hearn at thisperiod , says :

“But it was impossible for even this slavery ofj ournalism to crush out of him his determinationto advance and excel . In the small hours of themorning , into broad daylight , after the rough workof the police rounds and the writing of columns inhis inimitable style , he could be seen , under merelya poor jet of gas , with his one useful eye close tobook and manuscript , translating from Gautier .

”

62 LAFCADIO HEARN

These translations including Clarimonde,

Arria Marcella ,” and “King Canda u l e ” with

three others were published in 1882 under the title Ofthe initial tale ,

“One of Cleopatra’s Nights ,

” havingbeen gathered from the “Nouvelles , and theRomans et Contes .” The preface concludes thus :“ It is the artist who must judge of Gautier’s

creations . To the lovers of the loveliness of theantique world , to the lovers of physical beauty andartistic truth , — Of the charm of youthful dreamsand young passion in its blossoming , —of poeticambitions and the sweet pantheism that finds allNature vitalized by the Spirit of the Beautiful ,to such the first English version of these gracefulphantasies is Offered in the hope that it may not befound wholly unworthy of the original .”

Up to this time no translation into English OfGautier’s Contes ” had been attempted , and themanuscript sought a publisher in vain for half adozen years . Later, when the little volume hadreached a small but appreciative audience , anotherEnglish version was attempted by Andrew Lang,but proved an unsuccessful rival , lacking the warmthand fidelity of its predecessor .Other attempts in the same direction met with

no better success , partly , in some cases , because ofthe reluctance any Anglo-Saxon publisher inevitablyfeels in issuing works which would encounter nobarriers Of rigid decorum between themselves andthe world Of French readers . The youthful artistworking in any medium is prone to be impatient ofthe prejudices Of Anglo-Saxon pudency . The beau

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64 LAFCADIO HEARN

were common to these people in their every-day lifehis vivid imagination transformed into romance .

”

This led him eventually into impossible experi

ments , and brought upon him the resentment ofhis friends . Many years after, in Japan, he referredto this matter in a letter to one of his pupils , and theletter is so illuminative of this matter as to make itdesirable to insert it here , though rightly it shouldbe included in the volume dealing with his life inJapan .

DEAR OCH IAI, I was very happy to get yourkind letter, and the pleasant news it conveyed .

And now that all your trouble is over, perhaps youwill sometimes find it hard not to feel angry withthose who ostracized you for so long . It would atleast be natural that you should feel angry with them ,

or with some at least . But I hope you will not allowyourself to feel anger towards them , even in yourheart . Because the real truth is that it was not reallyyour schoolmates who were offended : it only appearedso . The real feeling against you was what is calleda na tiona l sentiment , that jealous love Of countrywith which every man is born, and which you , quiteunknowingly, turned against you for a little while .

SO I hope you will love all your schoolmates nonethe less , even though they treated you distantlyfor so long .

When I was a young man in my twenties , I had anexperience very like yours . I resolved to take thepart of some people who were much disliked inthe place where I lived . I thought that those who

THE ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 65

disliked them were morally wrong, so I arguedboldly for them and went over to their side . Thenall the rest of the people stopped speaking to me ,and I hated them for it . But I was too young thento understand . There were other moral questions ,much larger than those I had been arguing about ,which really caused the whole trouble . The peopledid not know how to express them very well ; theyonly fel t them . After some years I discovered thatI was quite mistaken—_that I was under a delusion .

I had been opposing a great national and socialprinciple without knowing it . And if my best friendshad not got angry with me , I could not have learnedthe truth so well, because there are many thingsthat are hard to explain and can only be taught byexperience .

Ever very afl’ectiona tely,

Your Old teacher,LAFCAD IO HEARN .

K UMAM OTO, March 27 , 1894 .

Sick , unhappy , and unpopular, flight to otherscenes naturally suggested itself . Mr . Tunison thusdescribes the influences determining the move toNew Orleans , which occurred in 1877

“As Hearn advanced in his power to write, thesense Of the discomforts Of his situation in Cincinnatigrew upon him . His body and mind longed forSouthern air and scenes . One morning , after theusual hard work of an unusually nasty winter nightin Cincinnati , in a leisure hour of conversation heheard an associate on the paper describe a scene in

66 LAFCADIO HEARN

the Gulf State . It was something about an Oldmansion of an ante-bellum cotton prince , with itswhite columns , its beautiful avenue of trees ; thewhitewashed negro quarters stretching away in thebackground ; the cypress and live-oaks hung withmoss , the odours from the blossoming magnolias ,the songs of the mocking-birds in the early sunlight .”

Hearn took in every word of this with great keenness Of interest , as was shown by the usual dilationof his nostrils when excited , though he had little tosay at the time . It was as though he could see , andhear, and smell the delights of the scene . Not longafter on leaving for New Orleans he remarked

“ I had to go , sooner or later, but it was yourdescription Of the sunlight , and melodies , and fragranee , and all the delights with which the South appeals to the senses that determined me . I shall feelbetter in the South , and I believe I shall do better .

”

Though nostalgia for Southern warmth had givena purpose to his wanderings , the immediate cause Ofhis leaving the paper on which he was employed inCincinnati was his assignment to deal with a storyof hydrophobia , in which he suspected he had beengiven some misleading information by his superiors ;and though his suspicions were possib ly unjust , heannounced that he had lost his loyalty to the paperand abruptly quitted it .It is said that he went first to Memphis on leavingCincinnati , but no proof of this remains save ananecdote he once related , placing the scene of it inTennessee .

TH E ARTIST’S APPRENTICESH IP 67

The question of essential wrong and right beingunder discussion , his companion advanced the theorythat morals varied so much with localities andconditions that it was impossible to decide that therewas any act of which one might say that it wasessentially wrong or essentially right . After thinkingthis over in his brooding manner, he said

“Yes , there is one thing that is always wrong ,profoundly wrong under any conditions .”

“And that ?” he was asked .

‘

T O cause pain to a helpless creature for one’sown pleasure, was his answer ; and then , in illustra tion, continued

“Once I was walking alonga road in Tennessee , and I saw a man who seemedintoxicated with rage for what cause I don’t know .

A kitten was crossing the road at the moment . Itgot under the man’s feet and tripped him . He caughtit up and blinded it and flung it from him witha laugh . The act seemed to soothe his rage . I wasnot near enough to stop him , but I had a pistol inmy pocket—I always carried one then and I firedfour times at him ; but , you know my sight is sobad , I missed him After a few moments headded , It has always been one of the regrets ofmy life that I missed .

”

Sometime in 187 7 — the time of the year is uncertain Hearn arrived in New Orleans , and fromthis date the work of a biographer becomes almostsuperfluous , for then was begun the admirable seriesof letters to H . E . Krehbiel , which record the occupations and interests of his life for the next twelve years ,setting forth, as no one less gifted than himself could ,

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the impressions he received , the development Of hismind , the trend of his studies , the infinite labour bywhich he slowly built up his mastery Of the Englishtongue and the methods of work which made h imeventually one Of the great stylists of the NineteenthCentury . These letters make clear , as no commentcould adequately do , how unflinchinglyhe pursuedhis purpose to become an artist , through long discouragem ent, through poverty and self-sa crifice ;make clear how the Dream never failed to lead him ,

and how broad a foundation of study and disciplinehe laid during his apprenticeship for the structurehe was later to rear for his own monument . Theyalso disclose , as again no comment could do , themodesty of his self-appreciation , and the essentiallyenthusiastic and affectionate nature of his character .The first work he secured in New Orleans was on

the staff Of the D a i ly Item , one of the minor journa l s , where he read proof, clipped exchanges , wroteeditorials , and occasionally contributed a translation , or some bit of original work in the shape Of

what came to be known as his “ fantastics .” Meanwhile he was rejoicing in the change of residence ,for the Old, dusty , unpaved squalid New Orleans ofthe ’

7o’s the city crushed into inanition by war ,

poverty, pestilence , and the frenzy of carpet—baggermisrule— was far more sympathetic to his tastesthan the prosperous growing town he had abandoned .

The gaunt , melancholy great houses where helodged in abandoned , crumbling apartments ,still decorated with the tattered splendours Of aprosperous past , —where he was served by timid

TH E ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 69

unhappy gentlewomen , or their ex-servants ; the dimflower-hung courts behind the blank, moulderingwalls ; the street-cries ; the night-songs of wanderersall the colourful , polyglot , half-tropical life of the

town was a constant appeal to the romantic sideof the young man’s nature . Of disease and dangerarising out of the conditions of the unhappy city

he took no thought till after the great epidemic of

yellow fever which desolated New Orleans the following summer, during which he suffered severely fromdengue, a lighter form of the disease . But even thecruelties of his new home were ‘

of value to him .

In the grim closing chapter Of Chita ” the anguishof a death by yellow fever is set forth with a quiveringreality which only a personal knowledge of somephases of the disease could have made possible .

Always pursued by a desire to free himself Of theharness Of daily journalism , he plunged into experiments in economy, reducing at one time his expensesfor food to but two dollars a week ; trusting his hardlygathered savings to a sharper who owned a restau

rant , and who ran away When the enterprise proveda failure . On another occasion he put by everything beyond his bare necessities in one of themushroom building-loan societies which sprang upall over the country at that time , and with thecollapse of this investment he finally and foreverabandoned further financial enterprises , regardingthem with an absolutely comic distrust , though forsome years he continued to dwell now and then on

the possibility Of starting second-hand bookshops inhopelessly impossible places such as the then

70 LAFCADIO HEARN

moribund town of St . Augustine , Florida andwould suggest , with lovably absurd na l veté , thata shrewdman could do well there .

Meanwhile his gluttony for rare books on recondite matters kept him constantly poor, but proveda far better investment , as tools Of trade , than hisother and more speculative expenditures . Eventuallyhe gathered a library of considerable value , enrichedby his own notes , and many scrapbooks , but of

even this he was deprived later, through his inabilityto cope with those more skilled than himself inworldly matters , and was never after able to recoverit .In 1881 he , by great good fortune , was brought

into contact with the newly consolidated Times

D emocra t, a journal whose birth marked one of theearliest impulses towards the regeneration of thelong depressed community, and whose staff includedmen , such as Charles Wh itney, Honoré Burthe , andJohn Augustin , who represented the best impulsestoward new growth among both the American andCreole members Of the city’s population . Of PageM . Baker, the editor-in-chief, he drew in after yearsthis faithful pen-picture

“You say my friend writes nicely . He is aboutthe most lovable man I ever met , — an O ld—timeSoutherner , very tall and slight , with a singular face .

He is so exactly the ideal Mephistopheles that hewould never get his photograph taken . The facedoes not altogether belie the character, — but themockery is very tender play, and queerly original .It never offends . The real Mephistopheles appears

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72 LAFCADIO HEARN

tion of his idiosyncrasies new in his experience, andwas allowed to expand along the natural line of histastes and capacities , with the result that he soon b egan to attract attention , and was finally able to findhis outlet in the direction to which his preparatorylabours and inherent genius were urging him .

He was astonishingly fortunate to have foundsuch companions and such an Opportunity . At thatperiod the new journalism was dominant almosteverywhere , and perhaps nowhere in the UnitedStates , except in New Orleans , with its largeFrench population and its residuum of the antebellum leisurely cultivation of taste , and love Of

lordly beauties of style, —could he have found anaudience and a daily newspaper which eagerlysought , and rewarded to the best of its ability, a typeof belles-lettres which was caviare to the general .His first work consisted of a weekly translation fromsome French writer Théoph il e Gautier, Guyde Maupassant , or Pierre Loti , whose books he wasone of the first to introduce to English readers ,and for whose beautiful literary manner he alwaysretained the most enthusiastic admiration . Longyears afterward in Japan he spoke Of one Of theworst afflictions of a recent illness as having beenthe fear that he should die without having finishedLoti’s “

L’Inde sans les Anglais ,

” which he wasreading when seized by the malady. These transl a tions were usually accompanied in anotherpart of the paper— by an editorial , elucidatory of

either the character and method of the author, orthe subject of the paper itself, and these editorials

THE ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 73

were Often vehicles of much curious research ona multitude of odd subjects , such as the famousswordsmen Of history, Oriental dances and songs ,muezzin calls , African music , historic lovers , Ta lmudie legends , monstrous literary exploits , and thelike ; echoes of which studies appear frequently inthe Krehbiel and O ’

Connor letters in this volume .

From time to time he added transferences , ~ andadaptations , or original papers , unsigned , whichfound a small but appreciative audience, some ofwhom were sufficiently interested to enquire theidentity of the author, and who grew into a localclientele which always thereafter followed thegrowth of his fame with warm interest . Amongthese Fantastics ” and translations was publ ished the whole contents of his three early books“One of Cleopatra’s Nights ,

” “ Stray Leaves fromStrange Literature,

” and Some Chinese Ghosts ”

but these books were made only of such selectionsas an ever increasing severity Of taste consideredworthy of reproduction .

1Much delightful matter

which failed quite to reach this standard lapsed intoextinction in the files of the journal . Among thesewas one which has been recovered by chance fromhis later correspondence . Replying to a criticismby a friend of the use of the phrase “ lentor inexpressible ” in a manuscript submitted for judgement ,he promises to delete it, speaks of it as a

“ trickphrase ” of his , and encloses the Old clipping toshow where he had first used it , and adds pleaseburn or tear up after reading this essay b elongs to the Period of Gush .

74 LAFCADIO HEARN

Fortunately his correspondent as did most ofthose to whom he wrote treasured everything inhis handwriting , and the fragment which boremy impression is - the title of “A Dead Love

(the clipping lacks its caption) remains to give anexample of some Of the work that bears the flaws ofhis ’prentice hand , before he used his tools with the

skill of a master :

No rest he knew because Of her . Even inthe night his heart was ever startled from slumberas by the echo of her footfall ; and dreams mockedhim with tepid fancies of her lips ; and when hesought forgetfulness in strange kisses her memoryever came shadowing between . So that , wearyof his life , he yielded it up at last in the feveredsummer of a tropical city, —dying with her nameupon his lips . And his face was no moré seen inthe palm-shadowed streets , but the sun roseand sank even as before .

And that vague Something which lingers a littlewhile within the tomb where

‘

the body moulders ,lingered and dreamed within the long dark restingplace where they had laid him with the pious hope— Que en pa z descanse !

Yet so weary Of his life had the Wanderer been ,that the repose of the dead was not for him . Andwhile the body shrank and sank into dust , thephantom man found no rest in the darkness , andthought dimly to himself : “ I am even too wearyto find peace !”

There was a thin crev1ce m the ancient wall of the

TH E ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 75

tomb . And through it , and through the meshes Ofthe web that a spider had woven athwart it , thedead looked and beheld the amethystine blaze of

the summer sky , and pliant palms bending inthe warm wind , and the opaline glow of thehorizon , and fair pools bearing images Of cypressesinverted , and the birds that flitted from tomb totomb and sang , and flowers in the shadow of thesepulchres . And the vast bright world seemedto him not so hateful as before .

Likewise the sounds of life assailed the faintsenses of the dead through the thin crevice in thewall of the tomb : always the far-off drowsy murmur made by the toiling of the city’s heart ; sometimes sounds Of passing converse and steps ,echoes of music and of laughter, — chanting andchattering of children at play , and the liquidbabble of the beautiful brown women . SO

that the dead man dreamed of life and strength andjoy, and the litheness of limbs to be loved : also Of

that which had been , and Of that which might havebeen , and of that which now could never be . Andhe longed at last to live again seeing that therewas no rest in the tomb .

But the gold-born days died in golden fire ; andblue nights unnumbered filled the land with indigoshadows ; and the perfume Of the summer passedlike a breath of incense and the dead withinthe sepulchre could not wholly die .

Stars in their courses peered down through thecrevices of the tomb , and twinkled , and passed on ;winds of the sea shrieked to him through the widen

76 LAFCADIO HEARN

ing cranmes of the tomb ; birds sang above him andflew to other lands ; the bright lizards that ran noiselessly over his bed Of stone , as noiselessly departed ;the spider at last ceased to repair her web Of silk ;years came and went with lentor inexpressible ;but for the dead there was no rest !And after many tropical moons had waxed andwaned , and the summer was deepening in theland , filling the golden air with tender drowsinessand passional perfume, it strangely came to passthat She whose name had been murmured by hislips when the Shadow of Death fell upon him ,

came to that city of palms , and even unto the ancientplace of sepulture, and unto the tomb that bore hisname .

And he knew the whisper of her raiment knewthe sweetness of her presence and the pallidhearts of the blossoms of a plant whose blind rootshad found food within the crevice of the tomb ,changed and flushed , and flamed incarnadine .But she perceivmg 1t not passed by ; and

the sound Of her footstep died away forever.

To his own, and perhaps other middle-aged tasteA Dead Love ” may seem negligible, but to thosestill young enough , as he himself then was , to creditpassion with a potency not only to survive “ thegradual furnace Of the world but even to blossom inthe dust of graves , this stigm atization as

“Gush ”

w i ll seem as unfeeling as always does to the youngthe dry and sapless wisdom of granddams . T o

THE ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 77

them any version of the Orphic myth is tinglinglycredible . Yearningly desirous that the brief flowerof life may never fade, such a cry finds an echo inthe very roots of their inexperienced hearts . Thesmouldering ardour Of its style , which a chastenedjudgement rejected , was perhaps less faulty than itsauthor believed it to be in later years .It was to my juvenile admiration for this partie

ular bit of work that I owed the privilege of meetingLafcadio Hearn , in the winter of 18892, and of layingthe foundation of a close friendship which lastedwithout a break until the day of his death .

He was at this time a most unusual and memorableperson . About five feet three inches in height , withunusually broad and powerful shoulders for such astature , there was an almost feminine grace andlightness in his step and movements . His feet weresmall and well shaped , but he wore invariably themost clumsy and neglected shoes , and his wholedress was peculiar. His favourite coat , both winterand summer, was a heavy double-breasted

“ reefer,”

while the siz e of his wide-brimmed , soft-crowned hatwas a standing joke among his friends . The rest ofhis garments were apparently purchased for the sakeof durability rather than beauty, with the exceptionOf his linen , which , even in days Of the direst poverty,was always fresh and good . Indeed a peculiarphysical cleanliness was characteristic of himthat cleanliness of uncontaminated savages and wildanimals , which has the air of being so essential andinnate as to make the best-groomed men and domesticated beasts seem almost frowzy by contrast .

78 LAFCADIO HEARN

His hands were very delicate and supple,with quick

timid movements that were yet full of charm ,and

his voice was musical and very soft . He spokealways in short sentences, and the manner of hisspeech was very modest and deferential . His headwas quite remarkably beautiful ; the profile bothbold and delicate , with admirable modelling of thenose , lips and chin . The brow was square , and fullabove the eyes , and the complexion a clear smoothOlive . The enormous work which he demanded ofhis vision had enlarged beyond its natural size theeye upon which he depended for sight , but originally,before the accident , — whose disfiguring effect hemagnified and was exaggeratedly sensitive about ,his eyes must have been handsome , for they werelarge , of a dark liquid brown , and heavily lashed .

In conversation he frequently, almost instinctively ,placed his hand over the injured eye to conceal itfrom his companion .

Though he was abnormally shy, particularly withstrangers and women, this was not obvious in anyawkwardness of manner ; he was composed and dignified, though extremely silent and reserved untilhis confidence was obtained . With those whom heloved and trusted his voice and mental attitude werecaressing, affectionate, and confiding , though witheven these some chance look or tone or gesture wouldalarm him into sudden and silent flight, after whichhe might be invisible for days or weeks , appearingagain as silently and suddenly, with no explanationof his having so abruptly taken wing . In spite ofhis limited sight he appeared to have the power to

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80 LAFCADIO HEARN

and body to an unusual degree — the delicacywas only of the spirit .Mrs . Lyl ie Harris of New Orleans

,one Of his

intimate friends at this time , in an article writtenafter his death, speaks of his friendship with thechildren of her family, with whom he was an a ffec

tiona te playfellow, and with whom he was entirelyconfident and at his ease . An equally friendly andconfident relation existed between himself and theOld negro woman who cared for his rooms (as cleanand plain as a soldier’s) , and indeed all his life hewas happiest with the young and the simple , whonever perplexed or disturbed him by the complexities of modern civilization, which all his life hedistrusted and feared .

Among those attracted by his work in the Times

D emocra twas W . D . O’Connor , in the marine service

Of the government , who wrote to enquire the nameOf the author Of an article onGustave Doré . Fromthis grew a correspondence extending over severalyears . Jerome A. Hart , of San Francisco , was another correspondent attracted by his work , to whomhe wrote from time to time , even after his residencein Japan had begun . Mr . Hart in contributing hisletters says that this correspondence began in 1882,through the following reference in the pages of theA rgona ut to One Of Cleopatra’s Nights ”

“Mr . Lafcadio Hearn , a , talented writer on thestafl" of the New Orleans Times-D emocra t, has justtranslated some of Gautier’s fantastic romances ,under the name Of

‘One of Cleopatra’s Nights .’

The book comprises six fascinating stories — the

THE ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 81

one which gives the title ,‘Clarimonde ,

’ ‘ArriaMarcella, a Souvenir Of Pompeii ,

’ ‘The Mummy’sFoot

,

’ ‘Omphale , a Rococo Story ,’ and ‘King

Candau l e .

’ Mr. Hearn has few equals in thiscountry as regards translation , and the stories losenothing of their artistic unity in his hands . But hishobby is literalism . For instance, of the epitaph inClarimonde ,

’

‘Ici-git C l a rimonde ,Q ui fut de son vivant

L a plus bel l e du monde ,’

he remarks : ‘The broken beauty of linesbut inadequately rendered thus

Here l ies Cl a rim onde ,Who wa s famed in her l ifetimeA s the fa irest of women.

’

Very true it is inadequate . But why not varyit ? For example

Here l ieth Cl a rimonde ,Who wa s , wha t time she l ived,The l ovel iest in the l and .

The fleeting archaic flavour of the original is notentirely lost here

,and the lines are broken , yet

metrical . But this is only a suggestion , and a kindlyone .

”

This book his first travelled far before finding a publisher, and then only at the cost of theauthor bearing half the expense Of publication .

Other notices had been less kind . The Observer ,as he quotes in a letter to Mr . Hart , had declaredthat it was a collection of

“ stories of unbridled lustwithout the apology of natural passion,

” and that

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the translation reeked with the miasma of thebrothel . ” The Critic had wasted no time uponthe translator, confining itself to depreciation OfGautier, and this Hearn resented more than severityto himself, for at this period Gautier and his stylewere his passionate delight , as witness the followingnote which accompanied a loan of a volume containing a selection from the Frenchman’s poems :

DEAR M ISS E ISLAND , I venture to try to giveyou a little novel pleasure by introducing you to theEm aux et Camées .” As you have told me you neverread them , I feel sure you will experience a literarysurprise . You will find in Gautier a perfection Of

melody , a warmth Of word-colouring , a voluptuousdelicacy which no English poet has ever approachedand which reveal , I think, a certain capacity of

artistic expression no Northern tongue can boast .What the Latin tongues yield in to Northern languages is strength ; but the themes in which the Latinpoets excel are usually soft and exquisite . Still youwill find in the “Rondalla ” some fine specimens Ofviolence . It is the song of the Toreador Juan .

These “Em a ux et Camées ” constitute Gautier’s

ownpet selection from his works . I have seennothingin Hugo’s works to equal some of them . Iwon’t presume to Offer you this copy : it is too shabby,has travelled about with me in all sorts of places foreight years . But if you are charmed by this parfaitmagicien des lettres franca ises

”

(as Baudelairecalled him) I hOpe to have the pleasure of Offering

you a nicer copy .

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84 LAFCADIO HEARN

DEAR K . , In Promethean agony I write .

Roberts Brothers , Boston, have written me thatthey want to publish “ Chinese Ghosts ;

” but wantme to cut out a multitude of Japanese , Sansc

'

rit ,Chinese , and Buddhist terms .Thereupon unto them I despatched a colossal

document of supplication and prayer, citingSouthey, Moore , Flaubert , Edwin Arnold, Gautier,Hiawatha ,

” and multitudinous singers and multitudinous songs , and the rights of prose poetry , andthe supremacy of Form .

And no answer have I yet received .

How shall I sacrifice Orientalism , seeing that thismy work was inspired by !fragment of a Greek word!by the Holy Spirit , by the Vast !probablyBlue Soul! Of the Universe but one of thefacets of that million-faceted Rose-diamond whichfla sheth back the light of the Universal Sun ? Andeven as Apocalyptic John I hold

“And if any man shall take away from the wordsof the book of this prophecy God shall take awayhis part out of the book of life , and out of the holycity, and from the things which are written in thisb ookfi

’

Thy brother in the Holy Ghost of Art wisheththee many benisons and victories , and the Gracethat cometh as luminous rain and the Wind of

Inspiration perfumed with musk and the flowersof Paradise .

LAFCAD IO .

THE ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 85

This suggestion was peculiarly afflicting becauseof his love of exotic words , not only for their ownsake , but for the colour they lent to the generalscheme Of decoration of his style . It was as if apainter Of an Oriental picture had been asked toomit all reproduction of Eastern costumes , all representa tion of the architecture or utensils germane tohis scene . T O eliminate these foreign terms was likeasking a modern actor to play “ Julius Caesar ” ina full-bottomed wig .

At about this period a friendship formed withLieutenant Oscar Crosby exerted a most profoundand far-reaching influence upon Hearn an influence which continued to grow until his whole lifeand manner of thought were coloured by it .Lieutenant Crosby was a young Louisianian ,

educated at West Point, and then stationed in NewOrleans , a person of very unusual abilities , andHearn found him a suggestive and inspiring companion . In a letter written to Ernest Crosby fromJapan in 1904 , but a month before his death , hesays :

“A namesake of yours , a young lieutenant in theUnited States Army, first taught me , about twentyyears ago , how to study Herbert Spencer . To thatCrosby I shall always feel a very reverence of gratitude , and I shall always find myself inclined to seekthe good Opinion of any man bearing the name ofCrosby .

To Mr . Krehbiel in the same year that he beganthe study of The Principles of Ethics he wrote

“Talking of change in Opinions , I am really

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astonished at myself. You know what my fantasticmetaphysics were . A friend disciplined me to readHerbert Spencer . I suddenly discovered what awaste of t ime all my Oriental metaphysics had been .

I also discovered for the first time how to apply thelittle general knowledge I possessed . I also foundunspeakable comfort in the sudden

,and for me

eternal reopening Of the Great Doubt , which renderspessimism ridiculous , and teaches a new reverencefor all forms of faith . In short , from the daywhen I finished the ‘First Principles ,

’ a totally newintellectual life Opened for me ; and I hope duringthe next few years to devour the rest of this oceanicphilosophy .

”

He seems not , in these positive assertions , to haveoverestimated the great change that had come uponhi s mental attitude . The strong breath of the greatthinker had blown from off his mind the froth andferment Of youth , leaving the wine clear and strongbeneath . From this time becomes evident a newseriousness in his manner, and beauty became tohim not only the mere grace of form but the meaning and truth which that form was to embody .

The next book bearing his name shows the effectof this change , and the immediate success of thebook demonstrated that , while his love for the exoticwas to remain ingrained , he had learned to bringthe exotic into vital touch with the normal .

“ Chita : A Story of Last Island ” had its originin a visit paid in the summer Of 1884 to GrandeIsle , one Of the islands lying in the Gulf of Mexico ,near the mouth of the Mississippi River in the Bay

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88 LAFCADIO HEARN

so much as one of those big English orWestern barnbuildings prepared for a holiday festival or a wedding-party feast . The only distinctively Americanfeature is the inevitable Southern gallery with whitewooden pillars . An absolutely ancient purity of

morals appears to prevail here no one thinks ofbolts or locks or keys , everything is left open andnothing is ever touched . Nobody has ever beenrobbed on the island . There is no iniquity . It islike a resurrection of the days Of good King Alfred,when , if a man were to drop his purse on the highway , he might return six months later to find ituntouched . At least that is what I am told . StillI would not l ike to leave one thousand golden dinarson the beach or in the middle Of the village . I amstill a little suspicious having been so long adweller in wicked cities .I was in hopes that I had made a very important

discovery ; viz . a flock of really tame and innocuous COW S ; but the innocent appearance of thebeasts is , I have just learned , a disguise for the mostfearful ferocity . SO far I have escaped unharmed ;and Marion has Ofl’ered to lend me his large stick ,which will, I have no doubt , considerably a id mein preserving my life .

Could n’t you manage to let me stay down hereuntil after the Exposition is over, doing no workand nevertheless drawing my salary regularly ?By the way , one could save money by a residenceat Grande Isle . There are no temptations— exceptthe perpetual and delicious temptation of the sea .

The insects here are many ; but I have seen no

THE ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 89

frogs , they have probably found that the sea canoutroar them and have gone away jealous . Butin Marion’s room thereis a beam , and againstthat beam there is thenest Of a mud-dauber.”

D i d y o u e v e r see amud-dauber ? It is something like this when flying ;— but when it is n

’t flying I can’t tell you

what it looks like,and it has the peculiar power

of flying without noise . I think it is of the waspkind , and plasters its mud nest in all sorts of places .It is afraid of nothing likes to look at itself in theglass

,and leaves its young in our charge . There is

another sociable creature— hope it is n’t a waspwhich has built two nests under the edge of thistable on which I write to you . There are no specimens here of the cimex l ectu l a rius ; and the mos

qu itoes are not at all annoying . They buzz a little ,but seldom give evidence of hunger. Creatures alsoabound which have the capacity of making noisesof the most singular sort . Up in the tree on myright there is a thing which keeps saying all day long ,quite plainly, K iss , K iss , K iss !

” referring perhaps to the good young married folks across theway ; and on the road to the bath-house , which wetravelled late last evening in order to gaze at thephosphorescent sea, there dwells something whichexactly imitates the pleasant sound of ice j inglingin a cut-glass tumbler .As for the grub , it is superb solid , nutritious ,and without stint . When I first tasted the butter

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I was enthusiast ic , imagining that those mild-eyedCOW S had been instrumental in its production ;but I have since discovered they were not andthe fact astonishes me not at all now that I havelearned more concerning the character Of thosecows .At some unearthly hour in the morning the camp

meeting quiet of the place is broken by the tollingof a bell . This means “ Jump up, l a zybones ; and take a swim before the sunrises .” Then the railroad-carcomes for the bathers , passingup the whole line of white cottages .The distance is short to the beach ;Marion and I prefer to walk ; but the car is a greatconvenience for the women and children andinvalids . It is drawn by a single mule , and always

accompanied by a dog which appears to be theintimate friend Of the said mule , and who jumps

up and barks all the grass-grownway . The ladies’ bathing-house isabout five minutes’ plank-walkingfrom the men’s , where I am gladto say drawers and bathing-su its are

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92 LAFCADIO HEARN

sharks as I am of cows . Marion m ade a

dash for a drowning man yesterday, in answer tothe cry ,

“Here , you fellows , help ! help !” and I

followed . We had instantaneous visions of a goldmedal from the Life-Saving Service , and gloriousdreams of newspaper fame under the title Journa listic Heroism,

” for my part , I must acknowledgeI had also an unpleasant fancy that the drowningman might twine himself about me , and pull me tothe bottom , so I looked out carefully to see whichway he was heading . But the b ea tific Gold-Medalfancies were brutally dissipated by the drowningman’s success in saving himself before we couldreach him , and we remain as Obscure as before .

Interlude

THE ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 93

94 LA FCADIO HEARN

The proprietor has found what I have vainly beenransacking the world for a civilized hat , showingthe highest evolutional development of the hat as apractically useful article . I am going to make himan Ofler for it .

Alas ! the time fl ies too fast . Soon all this will bea dream the white cottages shadowed with

leafy green , the languidrocking-chairs upon theo ld-fashioned gallery, theCOW S that look into one’swindow with the rising sun ,the dog and the mule trot

ting down the flower-edgedroad, —the goose of the ancient Margot , — the muttering surf upon the bar beyondwhich the sharks are ,— the

bath-bell and the bathing belles ,— the air that makesone feel like a boy, the pleasure of sleeping with

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96 LAFCADIO HEARN

Isle , and for half a century a popular summer resort for the people of New Orleans and the plantersof the coast . On the 10th of August , 185 6, a frightful storm swept it bare and annihilated the numeroussummer visitors , only a handful among the hundredsescaping . The story of the tragedy remained avivid tradition along the coast , where hardly afamily escaped without the loss of some relation or

friend , and on Hearn’s return to New Orleans heembodied a brief story Of the famous storm , withhis impressions of the splendours of the Gulf, underthe title of “Torn Letters ,

” purporting to be thefragments of an O ld correspondence by one of thesurvivors . This story published in the Times

D emocra t was so favourably received that he waslater encouraged to enlarge it into a book , and theHarpers , who had already published some articlesfrom his pen , issued it as a serial in their magazine .where it won instant recognition from a large publicthat had heretofore been ignorant of, or indifferentto , his work .

Oscar Wilde once declared that life and natureconstantly plagiarized from art , and would have beenpleased with the confirmation of his suggestionafforded by the fact that nearly twenty years afterthe publication of “ Chita ” a storm , similar to theone described in the book , swept away in its turnGrande Isle

,and Les Chenieres , and a girl child

was rescued by Manila fishermen as Hearn hadimagined . After living with one of their familiesfor some time she was finally recovered by herfather (who had believed her lost in the general

TH E ARTIST ’S APPRENTICESH IP 97

catastrophe) , under circumstances astoundingly likethose invented by the author so many years before .

The book was dedicated to Dr. Rudolfo Matas ,a Spanish physician in New Orleans , and an intimate friend , frequently mentioned in the lettersto Dr . George M . Gould of Philadelphia, with whoma correspondence was begun at about this time .

It was because of the success of “ Chita thatHearn was enabled to realize his long-nourisheddream of penetrating farther into the tropics , andwith a vague commission from the Harpers he leftNew Orleans

,in 1887 , and sailed for the Windward

Islands . The journey took him as far south asBritish Guiana, the fruit of which was a series oftravel-sketches printed in H a rper

’s M a ga z ine .

SO infatuated with the Southern world Of colour,light , and warmth had he become that trusting tothe possible profits Of his books and the furthermaterial he hoped to gather two months after hisreturn from this journey, and without any definiteresources , he cast himself back into the arms ofthe tropics , for which he suffered a life-long andunappeasable nostalgia .

It was to St . Pierre in the island Of Martiniquethe place that had most attracted him on his travelsthat he returned . That island of “gigantic undu

l a tions , that town of bright long narrow streetsrising toward a far mass of glowing greenwhich looks as if it had slid down the hill behind it ,so strangely do the streets come tumbling to theport in a cascade of masonry, with a red billowingof tiled roofs over all, and enormous palms poking up

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through it . That town with a population fantas tic ,astonishing , a population of the Arabian Nights

many coloured , with a general dominant tint ofyellow

,like that of the town itself always relieved

by the costume colours of Martinique— brilliant yellow stripings or chequerings which have an indescribable luminosity, a wonderful power of bringing outthe fine warm tints of tropical flesh the huesof those rich costumes Nature gives to her nearestof kin and her dearest , — her honey- lovers , —herinsects : wasp-colours . ” Here , under the shadowof Mt . Pelée coiffed with purple and lilac clouda magnificent M adra s , yellow-banded by the sun ,he remained for two years , and from his experiencesthere created his next book .

“Two Years in theFrench West Indies made a minute and astonishingrecord of the town and the population , now. as deeplyburied and as utterly obliterated as was Pompeii bythe lava and ashes of Vesuvius . Eighteen centurieshence , could some archaeologist , disinterring the a l

most forgotten town , find this book , what passionatevalue would he give to this record Of a community Ofas unique a character as that of the little GraccoRoman city ! What price would be set to-day uponparchments which reproduced with such vividfidelity the world , so long hid in darkness , of thatcivilization over whose calcined fragments we nowyearningly ponder !One English commentator upon the work of

Lafcadi o Hearn speaks of Chita and Two Yearsin the French West Indies with negligent contemptas of “ the orchid and cockatoo type of literature,

”

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100 LAFCADIO HEARN

The risks he had assumed in returning to thetropics proved greater than he had imagined .

Publishers’ delays and rigid exactions of all theirpart of the writer’s pound of flesh left him at tim esent irely without means , and had it not been for thegenerosity and kindliness Of the people of the nowvanished city he would not have lived to return . Itwas some memory of humble friends there that isrecorded in the sixth part of the autobiographicalfragments , written after the disaster at St . Pierre .

IN VANISHED LIGHT

A bright long narrow street rising toward afar mass of glowing green burning green of lianas :the front of a trOpic wood . Not a street of this age ,but Of the seventeenth century : a street of yellowfacades ,withyellowgarden—walls between the facades .In sharp bursts of blue light the sea appears at intervals , blue light blazing up Old , Old fl ights of mossysteps descending to the bay . And through theseOpenings ships are visible

,far below , riding in azure .

Walls are lemon-colour ; quaint balconies andlattices are green . Palm-trees rise from courts andgardens into a warm blue sky indescribably bluethat appears almost to touch the feathery heads of

them . And all things , within or without the yellowvista , are steeped in a sunshine electrically white ,in a radiance so powerful that it lends even to thepavements of basalt the glitter of S ilver ore .

Men wearing only white canvas trousers , andimmense hats of bamboo-grass , men naked to thewaist , and muscled like sculptures ,— pass noiselessly

THE ARTIST’S APPRENTICESHIP 101

w ith barefoot stride . Some are very black ; othersare Of strange and beautiful colours : there are skinsof gold , of brown bronze , and of ruddy bronze .

And women pass in robes of brilliant hue , womenof the colour of fruit : orange-colour, banana-colour ,women wearing turbans banded with just such

burning yellow as bars the belly of a wasp . Thewarm thick air is sweet with scents of sugar and ofcinnamon , -with odours of mangoes and of custardapples , of guava-jelly and of fresh cocoanut milk .

Into the amber shadow and cool moist breathof a great archway I plunge , to reach a court filledwith flickering emerald and the chirrup of leapingwater . There a little b oyand a little girl run to meetme , with Creole cries of M i y!

” Each takes one Ofmy hands ; each holds up a beautiful brown cheekto kiss . In the same moment a voice , the father

’svoice deep and vibrant as the tone of a great bellcalls from an inner doorway

,

“Entrez donc, mon

ami ! And with the large caress Of that voice therecomes to me such joy of sympathy , such sense ofperfect peace , as Souls long-tried by fire might feelwhen passing the Gateway Of PearlBut all this was and is not ! Never again

will sun or moon shine upon the streets of that city ;never again will its ways be trodden ; never

again will its gardens blossom except indreams .

He was again in New York in 1889 , occupied withthe final proofs of “ Chita ” before its appearance in

102 LAFCADIO HEARN

book form,preparing the West Indian book for the

press,but in sore distress for money , and making

a translation of Anatole France’s “Le Crime deSylvestre Bonnard ” in a few weeks by Herculeanlabour, in order to exist until he could earn something by his original work . The half-yearly paymentof royalties imposed by publishers bears hardly onthe author who must pay daily for the means to live .

For a time he visited Dr. Gould in Philadelphia,but

after his return to New York an arrangement wasentered into with Harper and Brothers to go to Japanfor the purpose Of writing articles from there , afterthe m anner of the West Indian articles , later to bemade into a book . An artist was to accompany himto prepare the illustrations , and their route was byway Of the Canadian Pacific Railway .

His last evening in New York was spent in thecompany of his dear friend Mr . Ellwood Hendrick ,to whom many Of the most valuable letters containedin the second volume were written , and on May 8,

1890 , he left for the East never again to return .

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104 LAFCADIO HEARN

a weirdly sculptured portal , a sensation of dreamand doubt . It seems to me that the steps , and thedragon-swarming gate , and the blue sky archingover the roofs of the town , and the ghostly beautyof Fuji , and the shadow of myself there stretchingupon the grey masonry , must all vanish presently

because the forms before me — the curvedroofs , the coiling dragons , the Chinese grotesqueriesof carving— do not really appear to me as thingsnew , but as things dreamed . A moment andthe delusion vanishes ; the romance of reality returns ,with freshened consciousness of all that which istruly and deliciously new ; the magical transpa rencies of distance , the wondrous delicacy of tones ,the enormous height of the summer blue , and thewhite soft witchery of the Japanese sun .

”

That first witchery of Japan never altogetherfailed to hold him during the fourteen years in whichhe wrought out the great work of his life , though heexclaims in one of his letters of a later time ,

“Theoscillation of one’s thoughts concerning Japan ! Itis the hardest country to learn except Chinain the world . He grew aware too in time thateven he , with his so amazing capacity for entering into the spirit of other races , must forever re

main alien to the Oriental . After some years hewrites

“The different ways of thinking and the difficu lties of the language render it impossible for aneducated Japanese to find pleasure in the societyof a European . Here is an astounding fact . TheJapanese child is as close to you as a European child

A MASTER—WORKMAN 05

perhaps closer and sweeter because infinitely morenatural and naturally refined . Cultivate his mind ,and the more it is cultivated the farther you pushhim from you . Why —Because here the race anti

poda l ism shows itself . As the Oriental thinks naturally to the left where we think to the right , the moreyou cultivate him the more he will think in theopposite direction from you .

”

Though he arrived at a happy moment , his artisticWanderja hre done , and the tools of his art , after longand bitter apprenticeship , at last obedient to his willand thought in the hand of a master-workman ; thematerial with which he was to labour new and beautiful ; yet he never ceased to believe that his truemedium was denied to him . In one of his lettershe cries

“ Pretty to talk of my ‘pen of fire .

’ I ’ve lost it .Well , the fact is , it is of no use here . There is n’

t anyfire here . It is all soft , dreamy , quiet , pale , faint ,gentle , hazy , vapoury , visionary ,— a land where lotusis a common article of diet , and where there isscarcely any real summer . Even the seasons arefeeble ghostly things . Don’t please imagine there areany tropics here . Ah ! the tropics they still pull atmy heart—strings . Goodness !my real field was there— in the Latin countries , in the West Indies andSpanish America ; and my dream was to haunt theo ld crumbling Portuguese and Spanish cities , andsteam up the Amazon and the Orinoco , and getromances nobody else could find . And I could havedone it , and made books that would sell for twentyyears .”

106 LAFCADIO HEARN

Perhaps he never himself quite realized how muchgreater in importance was the work chance had sethim to do . In place of gathering up in the outlyingparts of the new world the dim tattered fragments ofo l d-world romance as a collector might seek inSpanish-American cities faded bits of what wereonce the gold-threaded , glowing tapestries brought toadorn the exile of Conquistadores he had the goodfortune to be chosen to assist at one of the great birthsof history . Out of

“ a race as primitive as theEtruscan before Rome was ” — as he declared hefound them he was to see a mighty modern nationspring full-armed , with all the sudden miraculoustransformation of some great mailed beetle burstingfrom the grey hidden shell of a feeble-looking pupa .

He saw the fourteenth century turn swiftly , amazingly, into the twentieth , and his twelve volumes ofstudies of the Japanese people were to have thatunique and lasting value that would attach to equallypainstaking records of Greek life before the Persianwars . Inestimable , immortal , would be such books— could they anywhere be found — setting downthe faiths , the traditions , the daily lives , the songs ,the dances , the names , the legends , the humble loreof plants , birds , and insects , of that people who suddenlystood up at Thermopyl ae, broke the wave fromthe East , made Europe possible , and set the cornerstone ofOccidental thought . This was what LafcadioHearn , a little penniless , half-blind , eccentric wanderer had come to do for Japan . To make immortalthe story of the childhood of a people as simple asthe early Greek , who were to break at Mukden the

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108 LAFCADIO HEARN

In time he came To know better than any otherOccidental has ever known all those smooth layers ofthe Japanese nature , and to understand and admirethat rough hard clay within old and wonderfuland precious . Again he says

For no little time these fairy folk can give you allthe softness of sleep . But sooner or later, if youdwell long with them , your contentment will prove tohave much in common with the happiness of dreams .You will never forget the dream never ; but it willlift at last , like those vapours of spring which lendpreternatural loveliness to a Japanese landscape inthe forenoon of radiant days . Really you are happybecause you have entered bodily into Fairyland , intoa world that is not , and never could be your own.

You have been transported out of your own century ,over spaces enormous of perished time , into an eraforgotten , into a vanished age , back to somethingancient as Egypt or N ineveh . That is the secret ofthe strangeness and beauty of things , the secret of thethrill they give , the secret of the e lfish charm of thepeople and their ways . Fortunate mortal ; the tide ofTime has turned for you ! But remember that hereall is enchantment , that you have fallen under ~the

spell of the dead , that the lights and the colours andthe voices must fade away at last into emptiness andsilence .

For in time he realized that feudal Japan , with itsgentleness and altruism , had attained to its nobleideal of duty by tremendous coercion of the will ofthe individual by the will of the rest , with a resultantabsence of personal freedom that was to the individ

A MASTER—WORKMAN 109

ua l ism of the Westerner as strangling as the sternsocialism of bees and ants .These , however, were the subtler difficulties aris

ing to confront him as the expatriation stretched intoyears . The immediate concern was to find means tolive . His original purpose of remaining only longenough to prepare a series of illustrated articles forH a rper

’s M a ga z ine to be later collected in book

form was almost immediately subverted by a dispute with the publishers . The discovery , during thevoyage , that the artist who accompanied him was toreceive more than double the pay allowed for thetext , angered him beyond measure , and this, added toother matters in which he considered himself unjustlytreated , caused him to sever abruptly all his contracts .It was an example of his incapacity to look at busi

ness arrangements from the ordinary point of Viewthat he declined even to receive his royalties from thebooks already in print , and the publishers could discharge their obligations to him only by turning overthe money to a friend , who after some years and byroundabout methods succeeded in inducmg him to

accept it . That his indignation at what he considered an injustice left him without resources or pros

pects in remote exile caused him not a moment’s

hesitation in following this course . Fortunately aletter of introduction carried him within the orbit ofPaymaster Mitchell M cD ona ld, a young officerof the American navy stationed in Yokohama . Be

tween these two very dissimilar natures there at oncesprang up a warm friendship , from which Hearnderived benefits so delicately and wisely tendered

110 LAFCADIO HEARN

that even his fierce pride and sensitiveness couldaccept them ; and this friendship , wh ich lasted untilthe close of his life , proved to be a beautiful andhelpful legacy for his children . The letters to Paymaster M cD ona l d included in this volume have aspecial character of gaiety and good fellowshipwithhim he forgot ingreat measure the prepossessionsof his life , and became merely the man-of—the-world ,delighting in the memories of good dinners , goodwine and cigars , enjoyed together ; long evenings ofgay talk and reminiscences of a naval officer’s polyglot experiences ; long days of sea and S l inshine ;but agreeable as were these cheerful experiences—so

foreign to his ordinary course of existence he wascontinually driving from him , in comic terror, theman who drew him now and again to forget the seriousness of his task .

Professor Basil Hall Chamberlain , already famousfor his studie s of Japanese life and literature , alsobecame interested in the wanderer , and throughhis potent influence Hearn received an appointmentto the J injO-chiigakkO or Ordinary Middle Schoolat Matsue , in the province Izumo , in Shimane Kento which he went in August of 1890 .

Matsue lies on the northern coast , near that western end of Japan which trails like a streamingfeather of land through the Eastern Pacific along thecoast of China . It is a town of about thirty-fivethousand inhabitants , situated at the junction ofLake Shinj l and the Bay ofNaka-umi , andwas at thattime far out of the line of travel or Western influence ,the manners of the people remaining almost un

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A MASTER—WORKM AN 111

changed , affording a peculiarly favourable oppor

tunityfor the study of feudal Japan . The ruins ofthe castle of the D a imyO, M a tsuda ira ,

—descendantof the great ShOgun Ieyasu, who was overthrownin the wars of the Meij i , still frowned from thewooded hill above the city , and still his love of art ,his conservatism of the old customs , his rigid laws ofpoliteness were stamped deeply into the culture ofthe subjects over whom he had reigned , though uglymodern buildings housed the schools of that Westernlearning he had so contemned , and which the newcomer had been hired to teach . But this was ateacher of different calibre from those who hadpreceded him . Here was one not a holder of the“ little yellow monkey ” prepossession . Here was arare mind capable at the age of forty of receiving newimpressions , of comprehending a civilization alien toall its previous knowledge .

Out of this remarkable experience a stray fromthe Nineteenth Century moving about in the unrealiz ed world of the Fourteenth grew that portion ofhis first Japanese book ,

“Glimpses of UnfamiliarJapan ,

” which he called “From the D iary of anEnglish Teacher ,

” and “The Chief City of the Province of the Gods It is interesting to comparethe impression made upon the teacher by his pupilswith the opinion formed by the pupils of theirforeign teacher .Hearn says :“I have had two years’ experience in large Japan

ese schools ; and I have never had personal knowledgeof any serious quarrel between students . A

112 LAFCADIO HEARN

teacher is a teacher only : he stands to his pupils inthe relation of an elder brother . He never tries toimpose his will upon them severity wouldscarcely be tolerated by the students . Strangelypleasant is the first sensation of a Japanese class , asyou look over the ranges of young faces . Thosetraits have nothing incisive , nothing forcible : compared with Occidental faces they seem but ‘halfsketched ,

’ so soft their outlines are . Somehave a childish freshness and frankness indescribable

all are equally characterized by a singularplacidity expressing neither love nor hate nor anything save perfect repose and gentleness . I findamong the students a healthy tone of skepticism inregard to certain forms of popular belief. Scientificeducation is rapidly destroying credulity in old superstitions But the deeper religious sense remainswith him ; and the Monistic Idea in Buddhism isbeing strengthened by the new education .

ShintO the students all sincerely are what thehigher Sh intO signifies , loyalty, filial piety , Obedience to parents , and respect for ancestors . Thedemeanour of a class during study hours is if anythingtoo faultless . Never a whisper is heard ; never is ahead raised from the book without permission .

My favourite students often visit me of afternoons .Their conversation and thoughts are of the

simplest and frankest . Often they bring megifts of flowers , and sometimes they bring books andpictures to show me delightfully queer things ,family heirlooms . Never by any possible chance arethey troublesome, impolite , curious , or even talkative .

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114 LAFCADIO HEARN

The daughter of the innkeeper was suffering froma disease of the eyes . This aroused his sympathy

(as did all such troubles in a special manner) ; heasked the landlord to send her to a hospital for treatment , but the landlord did not care much about her ,and refused , to Hearn

’s great m ortifica tion.

‘

Un

merciful fellow without a father’s heart ,’ he said

to himself, and removed to a house of his own on theshore of the lake .

”

This house was near the bridge Ohashi whichcrossed the largest of the three outlets from the laketo the bay , and commanded the beautiful scenerydescribed in “The Chief City of the Province of theGodsI slide open my little Japanese paper window to

look out upon the morning over a soft green cloudof foliage ris ing from the river-bounded garden below .

Beforeme , tremulously mirroring everything upon itsfarther side , glimmers the broad glassymouth of theOhashi-gawa , opening into the Shinj i Lake, whichspreads out broadly to the right in a dim grey frameof peaks . But oh , the charm of the vision ,those first ghostly love-colours of a morning steepedin mist soft as sleep itself ! Long reaches of

faintly-tinted vapour cloud the far lake verge .

All the bases of the mountains are veiled by themso that the ’

l ake appears incomparably largerthan it really is , and not an actual lake , but a beautiful spectral sea of the same tint as the dawn-sky andmixing with it , while peak-tips rise like islands fromthe brume an exquisite chaos , ever changingaspect as the delicate fogs rise, slowly, very slowly .

A M ASTER—WORKMAN 115

As the sun’s yellow rim comes into sight , fine thinlines of warmer tone violets and opalinesshoot across the flood, tree-tops_take tender fire .

Looking sunward , up the long Ohashi-gawa, beyondthe many-pillared wooden bridge

, one high-poopedjunk, just hoisting sail , seems to me the most fantastically beautiful craft I ever saw , a dream ofOrient seas

,so idealized by the vapour is it ; the

ghost of a junk, but a ghost that catches the light asclouds do ; a shape of gold mist , seemingly semidiaphanous

,and suspended in pale blue light . ”

Here,constantly absorbed when off duty in the

study of the sights and sounds of the city , —themultitudinous soft clapping of hands that greetedthe rising sun, the thin ringing of thousands ofwooden geta across the bridge, the fantast ic craft ofthe water traffic , the trades of the street merchants ,the plays and songs of the children ,— he began toregister his first impressions

,to make his first studies

for his first book . Of its two volumes he afterwards spoke slightingly as full of misconceptionsanderrors , but it at once, upon its appearance in print ,attracted the serious consideration of literary critics ,and is the work which , with

“ Japan : an Interpretation ,

” remains most popular with his Japanesefriends . It records his many expeditions to theislands and ports of the three provinces included inthe Ken of Shimane , and his study of the manners ,customs , and religion of the people . Of specialvalue was his visit to the famous temple at Kizuki

,

to whose shrine he was the first Westerner everadmitted . Lord Senke Takamori, priest of this

116 LAFCADIO HEARN

temple , was a friend of the family of the lady whobecame Hearn’s wife , and prince of a house whichhad pas sed its office by direct mal e line througheighty-two generations ; as old a house as that of

the Mikado himself . From him Hearn received theunusual courtesy of having ordered for his specialbenefit a religious dance by the temple attendants .

It was while Lafcadio was living in the house bythe Ohashi bridge that he married , in January , 189 1,Setsu Koizumi , a lady of high samurai rank . Therevolution in Japan which overthrew the power ofthe ShOguns and restored the Mikado to temporalpower had broken the whole feudal structure ofJapanese society , and with the downfall of theda imyOs , whose position was similar to that of thedukes of feudal England , fell the lesser nobility, thesamurai

,or “ two- sworded ” men . Many of these

sank into as great poverty as that which b efe l theém igrés after theFrench Revolution , and among thosewhose fortunes were entirely ruined were the Koizumis . Senta rONishida , who appears to have been asort of head master of the JinjO—chfigakkO, in specialcharge of the English department , was of one of thelesser samurai families , his mother having been aninmate of the Koizumi household before the declineof their fortunes . Because of his fluency in English ,as well as because of what seems to have been apeculiar sweetness and dignity of character, he soonbecame the interpreter and special friend of the newEnglish teacher . It was through h is mediation thatthe marriage was arranged . Under ordinary circumstances a Japanese woman of rank would consider

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118 LAFCADIO HEARN

and took it home .

‘O pity ! cruel boys !’ Hearnsaid , and took that all-wet , shivering creature intohis own bosom (underneath the cloth) and kindlywarmed it . This strongly impressed me with hisdeep sincerity , which I ever after witnessed at variousoccasions . Such conduct would be very extreme , buthe had such an intensity in his character . ” This catseems to have been an important member of thehousehold . Professor O tzi ni in referring to it says :It was a purely black cat . It was given the name ofH inoko (a spark) by him , because of its glaring eyeslike live coals . It became his pet . It was often heldin his hat .”

Later another pet was added to the establishmentan uguisu , sent to him by the sweetest lady in

Japan , daughter of the Governor of Izumo , who ,thinking the foreign teacher might feel lonesomeduring a brief illness , made him the gift of thisdainty creature .

”

“You do not know what an uguisu is ?” he says .

An uguisu is a holy little bird that professes Buddhism very brief indeed is my little featheredBuddhist’s confession of faith , only the sacredname of the sutra s reiterated over and over again ,like a litany ‘

H o-ke-kyb !— a single word only .

But also it is written : ‘He who shall joyfully acceptbut a single word from this sutra , incalculablygreater shall be his merit than the merit of one whoshould supply all the beings in the four hundredthousand worlds with all the necessaries for happiness .’ Always he makes a reverent little pauseafter uttering it . First the warble ; then a pause of

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about five seconds ; then a slow, sweet , solemn utterance of the holy name in a tone as of meditativewonder ; then another pause ; then another wild ,rich , passionate warble . Couldyou see him you wouldmarvel how so powerful and penetrating a sopranocould ripple from so minute a throat, yet his chantcan be heard a whole ch?) away a neutraltinted mite almost lost in his box-cage darkenedwith paper screens , for he loves the gloom . Delicate he is , and exacting even to tyranny . All his dietmust be laboriously triturated and weighed inscales , and measured out to him at precisely the samehour each day .

”

In this house, surrounded with beautiful gardens ,and lying under the very shadow of the ruinedD a imyO castle, Hearn and his wife passed a veryhappy year . The rent was about four dollars amonth ; his salaries from the middle and normalschools , added to what he earned with his pen, madehim for the first time in his life easy about moneymatters . He wasextremely popular with all classes ,from the governor to the barber ; the charm andwonder of the life about him was still unstaled byusage, and he found himself at last able to achievesome of that beauty and force of style for which hehad so long laboured . He even found pleasure inthe fact that most of his friends were of no greaterstature than himself . It seems to have been in everyway the happiest portion of his life . Mrs . Hearn’snotes concerning it are so delightful as to deserveliteral reproduction .

“The governor of the prefecture at that tim e was

120 LAFCADIO HEARN

Viscount Ya susada K oteda , an earnest advocate ofpreserving old , genuine Japanese essentials , a conserva tist . He was very much skilful in fencing ; wasmuch respected by the people in general .

“Mr . K oteda was also very kind to Lafcadio .

Thus all Izumo proved favourable to him . Theplace welcomed him and treated him as a memberof its family , a guest , a good friend , and not as astranger or a foreigner . To him all things were fullof novel interest ; and the hospitality and goodna turedness of the city-people were the great pleasurefor him . Matsue was , as it were , a paradise forhim ; and he became enthusiastically fond of Matsue .

The newspapers of the city often published hisanecdotes for his praise . The students were verypleased that they had a good teacher . In the meantime , the wonderful thread of m arriage happened tounite me with Lafcadio

“When I first saw Lafcadio , his property was avery scanty one , only a table , a chair, a few number of books , a suit of both foreign and Japanesecloth !clothes!, etc .

“When he came home from school , he put on

Japanese cloth and sat on cushion and smoked .

“By this time he began to be fond of living in allways like Japanese . He took Japanese food withchopsticks .

“ In his Izumo days , he was pleased to be presenton all banquets held by the teachers ; he also invitedsome teachers very often and was very glad to listento the popular songs .

On the New Year’s day of 1891, he went round

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122 LAFCADIO HEARN

clothes . The sailor said that there would be a greatdanger if any one swam here

,on account of the devil’s

curse . I dissuaded him from swimming . Hearnwas very displeased and hardly spoke with me tillthe next day .

“ In the summer of 1891 he visited Kizuki withMr . Nishida . The next day he sent for me to come .

When I arrived at his hotel I found the two had goneto sea for swimming , and Hearn

’s money, packed inhis stocking , was left on the floor . He was very indifferent in regard to money until in later years hebecame anxious for the future of family, as he felthe would not live very long on account of his failinghealth .

“He was extremely fond of freedom , and hatedmere forms and restraint . As a middle schoolteacher and as a professor in the University he wasalways democratic and simple in his life . He or

dered to make flock-coat when he became Universityprofessor, and it was after my eager advice . He atfirst insisted that he would not appear on public ceremony where polite garments are required , accordingto the promise with Dr . Toyama , and it was after myeager entreaties that at last he consented to haveflock-coat made for him . But it was only some fouror five times that he put on that during his life . Sowhenever he puts on that , he felt the task of puttingon very troublesome , and said

‘Please attend to—day’smeeting instead of me . I do not like to wear thistroublesome thing ; daily cloth is sufficient , etc .

’ Hedisliked silk—hat . Some day I said in joke : ‘You havewritten about Japan very well . His Majesty the

A MASTER—WORKMAN 123

Emperor is calling you to praise . So please put onthe flock-coat and silk-hat .’ He answered : ‘Therefore I will not attend the meeting ; flock-coat andsilk-hat are the thing I dislike .

’

Our conversationwas through Japanese language .

Hearn would not teach me English , saying :‘It is far

lovelier for the Japanese women that they talk inJapanese . I am glad that you do not know English .

’

“ Some time (when at Kumamoto) I told him of

various inconveniences on account of my ignoranceof English . He said that if I were able to write myname in English it would be sufficient ; and insteadhe wanted me to teach him Japanese alphabet . Hemade progress in this and were able to write lettersin Japanese alphabet with a few Chinese charactersintermixed .

“Our mu tua l Japanese language made great progress on account of necessity . This special Japaneseof mine proved much more intelligible to him thanany skilful English of Japanese friend . Hearn wasalways delighted with my Japanese . By and by hewas able to teach Kazuo in Japanese . He alsotaught Japanese stories to other children in Japanese .

“ But on Matsue days we suffered in regard toconversations . Sometimes we had to refer to thedictionary . Being fond from my girlhood of oldtales , I began from these Matsue days telling himlong Japanese old stories , which were not easy forhim to understand , but to which he listened withmuch interest and attention . He called our mutualJapanese language ‘Hearn san Kotoba ’ (Hearn

’slanguage) . So in later years when he met some diffi

124 LAFCADIO HEARN

cult words he would say in joke to explain them inour familiar ‘Hearn san Kotoba .

’

Unfortunately this idyllic interval was cut short byill health . The cold Siberian winds that pass acrossIzumo in winter seriously affected his lungs , and thelittle hiba chi , or box of burning charcoal , which wasthe only means in use of warming Japanese houses ,could not protect sufficiently one who had lived solong in warm climates . Oddly too , cold always a ffected his eyesight injuriously , and very reluctantly,but under the urgent advice of his doctor , he soughtemployment in a warmer region and was transferredto the Dai Go KOtO G akkO, the great GovernmentCollege , at Kumamoto , situated near the southernend of the Inland Sea . In “ Sayonara the lastchapter of the “ Glimpses ” there is a descriptionof his partingThe quaint old city has become so endeared to

m e

'

tha t the thought of never seeing it again is oneI do not venture to dwell upon . These days offarewells have been full of charming surprises . Tohave the revelation of gratitude where you had noright to’

expect more than plain satisfaction with yourperformance of duty ; to find affection where yousupposed only good will to exist : these are assuredlydelicious experiences . I cannot but ask myselfthe question : Could I have lived in the exercise of thesame profession for the same length of time in anyother country , and have enjoyed a similar unbrokenexperience of human goodness ? From each and allI have received only kindness and courtesy . N ot

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126 LAFCADIO HEARN

turbulent swordsmen under his rule . Perhaps thereis no gentleness so full of charm as that of the man ofwar noted for sternness in his youth .

”

Of his childish friends he relates a pretty story .

They came upon one occasion to ask for a contrib ution of money to help in celebrating the festival ofJ izO, whose shrine was opposite his house .

“ I was glad to contribute to the fund , for I lovethe gentle god of children . Early the next morningI saw that a new bib had been put about JizO’s neck ,a Buddhist repast set before him After darkI went out into a great glory of lantern-fires to see thechildren dance ; and I found , perched before my gate ,an enormous dragonfly more than three feet long .

It was a token of the children’s gratitude for the helpI had given them . I was startled for a moment b Vthe realism of the thing , but upon close examinationI discovered that the bodywas a pine branchwrappedwith coloured paper , the four wings were four fireshovels , and the gleaming head was a little teapot .The whole was lighted by a candle so placed as tomake extraordinary shadows , which formed part ofthe design . It was a wonderful instance of art-senseworking without a speck of artistic material , yet itwas all the labour of a poor little child only eightyears old !”

It was in Kumamoto that Hearn first began toperceive the fierceness and sternness of the Japanesecharacter . With Kyfishii Students and Jiujutsu ” contain some surprising foreshadowings of

the then unsuspected future . Such characteristics ,however he might respect or understand them , were

A MASTER—WORKMAN 127

always antipathetic to his nature,and his relations

with the members of the school were for the most partformal . He mentions that the students rarely calledupon him , and that he saw his fellow teachers onlyin school hours . Between classes he usually walkedunder the trees , smoking, or betook himself to anabandoned cemetery on the ridge of the hill behindthe college , where an ancient stone Buddha sat upona lotus — “ his meditative gaze slanting down b etween half-closed eyelids ” — and where he wroughtout the chapter in Out of the East ” which is called“The Stone Buddha .

” It became a favourite resort .Mrs . Hearn says : “When at Kumamoto we twooften went out for a walk in the night-t ime . On thefirst walk at Kumamoto I was led to a graveyard , foron the previous day he said : ‘I have found a pleasant place . Let us go there to-morrow night .’

Through a dark path I was led on , until we came upa hill , where were many tombs . Dreary place it was !He said : ‘Listen and hear the voices of frogs .’

He was still in Kumamoto when Japan went to warwith China , and his record of the emotion of thepeople is full of interest . The war spirit manifesteditself in ways not less painful than extraordinary .

Many killed themselves on being refused the chanceof military service .

It was here in the previous year,November 17 ,

1893 , that his first child was born , and was namedKazuo , which signifies

“ the first of the excellent,

best of the peerless .” The event caused him theprofoundest emotion . Indeed , it seemed to work agreat change in all his views of life , as perhaps it does

128 LAFCADIO HEARN

in most parents , reconciling them to much againstwhich they may have previously rebelled . Writingto me a few weeks after this event he declared withartless conviction that the boy was “ strangelybeautiful,

” and though three other children came inlater years , Kazuo always remained his specialinterest and concern . Up to the time of his death henever allowed his eldest son to be taught by any onebut himself , and his most painful preoccupationwhen his health began to decline was with the futureof this child , who appeared to have inherited bothhis father’s looks and disposition .

The constant change in the personnel of the teaching force of the college , and many annoyances towhich he was subjected , caused his decision at theend of the three years’ term to remove to K Ob e andenter the service of the K Ob e Chronicl e . Explainingto Am enom ori he says

“ By the way, I am hOping to leave the Gov’t

service , and begin journalism at K Ob e . I am notsure of success ; but Gov

’t service is uncertain to thedegree of terror

,a sword of Damocles ; and Gov

’tdoes n’t employ men like you as teachers . If it did ,and would give them what they should have , theposition of a foreign teacher would be pleasantenough . He would be among thinkers , and findsome kindliness

,instead of being made to feel

that he is only the servant of petty political clerks .And I have been so isolated , that I must acknowledgethe weakness of wishing to be among Englishmenagain with all their prejudices and conventions .”

K Ob e was at that time , 1895 , an open port, that is

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130 LAFCADIO HEARN

resentment against certain things in which I used totake pleasure . I can’t look at a number of the PetitJ ourna l pour R ire or the Cha riva ri without vexation ,almost anger. I can’t find pleasure in a French novelwritten for the obvious purpose of appealing to

instincts that interfere with perception of higherthings than instincts . I should not go to the ParisOpera if it were next door. I should not like to visitthe most beautiful lady and be received in eveningdress . You see how absurd I have become andthis without any idea of principle about the matterexcept the knowledge that I ought to avoid everything which does not help me to m ake the best ofmyself small as it may be .

”

And again : “ I might say that I have becomeindifferent to personal pleasure of any sortwhat is more significant , I think , is the feeling thatthe greatest pleasure is to work for others — forthose who take it as a matter of course that I shoulddo so , and would be as much amazed to find meselfish about it as if an earthquake had shaken thehouse down . It now seems to me

'

that timeis the most precious of all things conceivable . I can’twaste it by going out to hear people talk nonsense .

There are rich natures that can afford thewaste , but I can

’t, b eca use the best part of my life has

been wasted in thewrong direction and I shall haveto work like thunder till I die to make up for it .The growing gravity and force of his thought was

shown not only in his books but in his correspondence .

Most of the letters written at this period wereaddressed to Professor Chamberlain , dealing with

A MASTER—WORKMAN 131

matters of heredity and the evolution of the individual under ancestral racial influences . The followingextract is typical of the tone of the whole :Here comes in the consideration of a very terrible

possibility . Suppose we use integers instead of quintillions or centillions , and say that an individualrepresents by inheritance a total of 10 - 5 of impulsesfavourable to social life, 5 of the reverse . (Such abalance would really occur in many cases .) Thechild inherits , under favourable conditions , thefather’s balance plus the maternal bal ance of 9 ,four of the number being favourable . We have thena totalwhich becomes odd , and the single odd numbergives preponderance to an accumulation of ancestralimpulse incalculab l e for evil . It would be like a pairof scales , each holding a mass as large as Fuj i . Ifthe balance were absolutely perfect the weight of onehair would be enough to move a mass of millions oftons . Here is your antique Nemesis awfully magnified. Let the individual descend below a certain leveland countless dead suddenly seize and destroyhim ,

like the Furies .”

One begins to miss the beautiful landscapesagainst which he had set his enchantingly realisticpictures of beautiful things and people , but in theplace of the sensuous charm

,the honeyed felicities

of phrase , he offered such essays as the Japanese Civilization ” in Kokoro ,

” with its astoundingpicture of N ew York City, and its sublimated insight into the imponderable soul of the Easternworld— such intolerable imaginings as “Dust ” inthe “

Gleanings from Buddha-Fields ,” and the del

132 LAFCADIO HEARN

ica te poignancies of The Nun of the Temple ofAmida ” or of “A Street Singer . ”

I think it was at K Ob e he reached his fullest intellectual stature . None of the work that followed inthe next eight years surpassed the results he thereachieved , and much was of lesser value , despite itsbeauty . He had attained to complete mastery of hismedium , and had moreover learned completely tomaster his thought before clothing it in words afar more difficult and more important matter.Yet the clothing in words was no small task , as

witness the accompanying examples of how helaboured for the perfection of his vehicle . Theseare not the first struggles of a young and clumsyartist , but the efforts at the age of fifty-three of oneof the greatest masters of English .

It was done, too , by a man who earned with hispen in a year less than the week’s income of one of

the facile authors of the “ s ix best sellers .”

As has been said of De Quincey , whom Hearn inmany ways resembled,

“ I can grasp a little of hismorbid suflering in the eternal struggle for perfectionof utterance ; I can share a part of his aesthetic torment over cacophony , redundance , obscurity, and allthe thousand minute delicacies and subtleties of

resonance and dissonance , accent and caesura , thatonly a De Quincey’s ear appreciates and seeks toachieve or evade . How m any care for these finethings to-day ? H ow many are concerned if De

Q u inceyuses a word with the long ‘a ’ sound , orspends a sleepless night in his endeavour to findanother with the short ‘a,

’ that shall at once answer

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A MASTER—WORKMAN 135

his purpose and crown his sentence with harmony ?Who lovingly examine the great artist’s methods now ,

dip into the secret of his mystery,and weigh verb

against adjective , vowel against consonant , that theymay a little understand the unique splendour of thisprose ? And who , when an artist is the matter, a ttempt to measure his hopes as well as his attainmentsor praise a noble ambition perhaps shining throughfaulty attempt ? How many, even among those whowrite , have fathomed the toil and suffering, thecontinence and self-denial of our great artists inwords

CHAPTER IV

TH E LAST STAGE

WITH methods of work such as those of which theforegoing examples give suggestion , with increasingindifl’erence to the external details of life , and growing concentration of esoteric thought , it was plainthat literature and journalism would not suffice tosustain a family of thirteen persons . For Hearn inbecoming a Japanese subject had accepted theJapanese duty of maintaining the elder members ofthe family into which he had been adopted , and hishousehold included the ancestors of his son. Hereferred to the fact occasionally with amused impatience , but seems never to have really resented or

rebelled against the filial duties which to the Westernpoint of View might appear excessive . His eyes , too ,

began to give warnings that could not be ignored ,and with reluctance he yielded to the necessity of

earning a larger income by reejntering the Government service as a teacher . Professor Chamberlainagain came to his aid and secured for him the positionof Professor of English in the Imperial Universityof TOkyO, where his salary was large compared toanything he had as yet received , and where he waspermitted an adm irable liberty as to methods of

teaching .

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138 LAFCADIO HEARN

grammar ; I published some pamphlets . Thus Icould equal the expense of each month , but I needhardly say that it was by his extraordinary favourthat I could finish my study in the university . I shallnever forget his extreme kindness forever and ever .A revelation this , confirmatory of the constant

references made by Hearn to the frightful price paidin life and energy by Japan in the endeavour toassimilate a millennium of Western learning in thebrief space of half a century.

From these notes by Mr . Otani , Mrs . Hearn , andMr . Inom a ta it is possible to reconstruct his life inTOkyOwith that minuteness demanded by the professors of the scientific school ” of biography

“When he came to the university he immediatelyentered the lecture room , and at the recreation hourhe was always seen in a lonely part of the collegegarden , smoking , and walking to and fro . N0 onedared disturb his meditations . He did not minglewith the other professors

“Very regular and very diligent in his teaching , hewas never absent unless ill . His hours of teachingbeing twelve in the week

“He never used an umbrella .

He liked to bathe in tepid water .He feared cold ; his studyhaving a large stove and

double doors ; he never, however, used gloves in thecoldest weather .”

And so on , to the nth power of fatigue . Personally nothing would have been so obnoxious to theman as this piling up of unimportant

/ deta il andbanal ana about his private life . He was entirely

THE LAST STAGE 139

free of that egotism , frequently afflicting the literary artist , which made the crowing cocks , the blackbeetles , and the marital infelicities of the Carlylesmatters of such import as to deserve being solemnlyand meticulously recorded for the benefit of an awestruck world .

At first the change of residence , the necessaryinterruption of the heavy work of prepa ring f l ectures ,

the teaching, and its attendant official duties seemto have broken the train of his inspiration —for“ Gleanings in Buddha-Fields ,

” though publishedthe year after his arrival in TOkyO, had been com

pl eted while in KOb e , and he complains bitterly inhis letters that “ the Holy Ghost had departed fromhim ,

” and was constantly endeavouring to find somemeans of renewing the fire . In a letter to his friendAm enomori he says : “But somehow, working is‘against the grain .

’ I get no thrill , no frisson, no

sensation . I want new experiences , perhaps ; andTOkyO is no place for them . Perhaps the power tofeel thrill dies with the approach of a man’s fiftiethyear . Perhaps the only land to find the new sensations is in the Past , floats blue-peaked under somebeautiful dead sun ‘in the tropic clime of youth .

’ MustI die and be born again to feel the charm of the FarEast or will N ob ushige Am enom ori discover forme some unfamiliar blossom growing beside theFountain of Immortality ? Alas , I don

’t know ! ”

Indeed , in Exotics and Retrospectives ” he re

turned for part of his material to old memories ofthe West Indies , and the next four volumes InGhostly Japan ”

(with its monstrous fantasy of

14 0 LAFCADIO HEARN

the Mountain of Skulls) , Shadowings ,” “A Jap

anese Miscellany, and Kotto ”

Show that thealtar still waited for the coal , the contents of thesebeing merely studies , masterly as they were , such asan artist might make while waiting for some greatidea to form itself, worthy of a broad canvas .As the letters show, prodigious care and patiencewere expended upon each of these sketches . Inadvising a friend he explains his own methodsNow with regard to your own sketch or story . If

you are quite dissatisfied with it , I think this is probably due not to what you suppose , imperfection ofexpression , but rather to the fact that some l a tentthought or emotion has not yet defined itself in yourmind with sufficient sharpness . You feel somethingand have not been able to express the feeling onlybecause you do not yet quite know what it is . Wefeel without understanding feeling ; and our mostpowerful emotions are the most undefina b l e . Thismust be so , because they are inherited accumulationsof feeling , and the multiplicity of them superim

posed one over another— blurs them , and makesthem dim , even though enormously increasing theirstrength . Unconscious brain-work is the best todevelop such latent feeling or thought . By quietlywriting the thing over and over again , I find that theemotion or idea often devel ops itsel f in the process ,unconsciously . Again , it is often worth while to tryto analyze the feeling that remains dim . The effortof trying to understand exactly what it is that movesus sometimes proves successful . If you haveany feeling no matter what strongly latent in

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142 LAFCADIO HEARN

this time Mrs . Hearn’s reminiscences furnish againa delightful and vivid record .

It was on the 27th Aug . , 1896, that we arrived atTOkyO from K Ob e .

“Having heard of a house to let in Ushigomedistrict , we went to see it . It was an o ld house ofa pure Japanese style , without an upper story ; andhaving a spacious garden and a lotus-pond in it ,the house resembled to a Buddhist temple . Verygloomy house it was and I felt a sense of beinghaunted . Hearn seemed fond of the house . Butwe did not borrow it .

“We heard afterward that it was reputed to behaunted by the ghost ; and though the house-rentwas very cheap , no one would dare to borrow thehouse ; and finally it was broken down by its owner .‘Why then did we not inhabit that house ?’ Hearnsaid , with regret ,

‘It was very interesting house , Ithought at that t ime !’

“At last we settled at a house at T om ihisa -chO,Ushigome district , about three miles from the university . The house was situated on a bluff , witha Buddist temple called Kobu-dera in the neighb ourhood.

‘Kobu-dera ’ means ‘Knots Temple ,’

because all the pillars in the building have knotsleft , the natural wood having been used withoutcarpenter’s planes . Formerly it was called Hagidera on account of m any hagi

1 flowers in thegarden .

“ Being very fond of a temple , he often went for1Bush clover .

THE LA ST STAGE 143

rambling inKobu-dera, so that he became acquaintedwith a goodly old priest there , with whom he waspleased to talk on Buddhist subjects , I being alwayshis interpreter in such a case .

“Almost every morning and every evening he tookwalk in Kobu-dera .

“The children always said when he was absent ,‘Papa is in Kobu-dera .

’

“The following is one of his conversations in oneof our ramblings there : Can I not live in thistemple ?’ ‘I should be very glad to become apriest I will make a good priest with large eyesand high nose !’ ‘Then you become a nun ! andKazuo a little boy priest ! how lovely he would be !We shall then every day chant the texts . Oh, a happylife !’ In the next world you shall be born a nun !’

“ One day we went to the temple for our usualwalk .

‘

O , O !’he exclaimed in astonishment . Three

large cedars had been lying on the ground .

‘Whyhave they cut down these trees ? I see the templepeople seem to be poor. They are in need of money .

Oh, why have they not told me about that ? I shouldbe very much pleased to give them some amount .What a long time it must have taken to grow so largefrom the tiny bud ! I have become a little disgustedwith that old priest . Pity ! he has not money , though .

Poor tree !’ He was extremely sad and melancholilywalked for home .

‘I feel so sad ! I am no morepleasant to-day . Go and ask the people to cut nomore trees ,

’he said .

“After this he did not go to the temple yard anymore .

14 4 LAFCADIO HEARN

Sometime after the o l d priest was removed toanother temple ; and the younger new priest , the headof temple , began cutting trees .

“His desire was to live in a little house , in somelonely suburb , with a spacious garden full of trees .I looked for several places ; at Nishi Okubo mura Ifound a house of pure Japanese style and even withno foreign styled house in the neighbourhood, for hisdesire was to live in the midst of genu ine Japan .

That the house stood in a lonely suburb and thatthere was a bamboo bush in the rear of house pleasedhim much and prompted his immediate decision .

Being much afraid of cold winter, he wanted to haveone room furnished with a stove newly built and thatthe library should Open to the west . His library,with an adjoining room with a stove , and my sittingroom were built . He left all else to my choice , saying ,‘I have only to write ; other things I do not care for ;you know better, good Mamma San !

’

It was onthe 19th March , 1902, that we removedon new house at Okubo . He used to go to univers ityby a j inrikisha ; it took about 4 0 minutes . Ourhouse was all furnished in Japanese fashion , exceptthe stove and the glass-screen on account of thestove , instead of a paper-screen , in regard to thatapartment .

“ On the day we removed I was helping him arrange books in the library . Among the bamboowoods were heard the uguisu or warbler’s notesthrough the stillness of the place .

‘How happy !’hesaid , pleased with the new abode .

‘But my heart issorry,

’ he added .

‘Why ?’ I asked .

‘

TO be happy

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14 6 LAFCADIO HEARN

puts it down in his note-book and makes me repeatand repeat several t imes .

“And when the story is interest ing, he instantlybecomes exceedingly serious ; the colour of his facechanges ; his eyes wear the look of fearful enthusiasm .

“As I went on as usual the story of Oka chinsan

!in the begining of his face graduallychanged pale ; his eyes were fixed ; I felt a sudden awe .

When I finished the narrative he became a littlerelaxed and said it was very interesting . O blood !’

he repe atedly said ; and asked me several questionsregarding the s ituations , actions , etc . , involved in thestory . In what manner was 0 blood !” exclaimed ?In what manner of voice ? What do you think of thesound of “ geta ” at that time ? H ow was the night ?I think so and so . What do you think ? etc .

’ Thushe consulted me about various things besides theoriginal story which I told from the book . If any onehappened to see us thus talking from outside, hewould surely think that we were mad .

“ ‘Papa, come down ; supper is ready,’ three chil

dren used to say altogether to him ; then‘All right ,

sweet boys ,’ he would say, and come to the table in

a cheerful manner. But when he is very muchabsorbed in writing, he would say,

‘

A l l right ,’ very

quickly. And whenever his answer is quick, hewould not come very soon . I then go to him andsay : ‘Papa San ! the children are waiting for you .

Please come soon, or the dishes will lose their goodflavour .’

“ ‘What he asks .

THE LAST STAGE 14 7

The supper is ready, Papa .

’

I do not want supper. D id n’t I already takethat ? Funny !’

“ ‘Mercy ! please awake from your dream . Thelittle child would weep .

’

In such occasion , he is very forgetful ; and takesbread only to himself. And children ask him tobreak bread for them . And he would take whiskeyfor wine or put salt into the cup of coffee . Beforemeal he took a very little quantity of whiskey . Laterwhen his health was a little hurt he took wine .

“But on usual meals we were very pleasant . Hetells stories from foreign papers ; I from Japanesenewspapers . Kiyoshi would peep from the hole ofsliding-paper screen . The cat comes ; the dog comeunder the window ; and they share some sweets hegives . After meal we used to sing songs innocentlyand merrily .

Often he danced or laughed heartily when he wasvery happy .

In one NewYear’s day it happened that one ofthej lnrikisha men of our house died suddenly whiledrinking sake in a narrow room near the portal o four house . The dead man was covered with a bedcovering . A guest came for wishing a happy newyear to our home . The guest found that and said :O , a drunkard sleeping on the New Year

’s day . Ahappy fellow !’ The rikisha man , who sat near andwas watching the dead , said in his vulgar tone :

‘Nota drunkard , but a Buddha !

’1 The guest was sorelyastonished and went out immediately. After some

1 “H otoke-sama means the dead.

148 LAFCADIO HEAR N

days I told him this fact ; he was interested to imaginethe manner the guest made in astonishment . Andhe ordered me to repeat the conversation between theguest and the rikisha man . He often imitated thewords of ‘Not a drunkard , but 3 Buddha,

’ as beinga very natural and simple utterance .

“Whenever he met with a work of any art suitedto his taste, he expressed an intense admiration, evenfor a very small work . A man with a nice and kindheart he was ! We often went to see the exhibition ofpictures held occasionally in TOkyO. If he foundany piece of work very interesting to him , he spoke ofit as cheap though very high in price . What do youthink of that ?’ my husband says . ‘It is too muchhigh price , I say, lest he should immediately buy itquite indifi

’

erent of prices . ‘No , I don’t mean about

prices . I mean a b oi1t the picture . Do you think it isvery good ?’ Then I answer : ‘Yes , a pretty picture ,indeed , I think .

’ ‘We shall then buy that picture ,’

he says ,‘the price is however very cheap ; let us offer

more money for that .’ As to our financial matter, hewas entirely trusting to me . Thus , I , the little treasurer , sometimes suffered on such occasions .

“ In those innocent talks of our boys he waspleased to find interesting things . In fact his utmostpleasure was to be acquainted with a thing of beauty .

How he was glad to hear my stories . Alas ! he is nomore ! though I sometimes get amusing stories , theyare now no use . Formalities were the things he mostdisliked . His likes and dislikes were always to theextreme . When he liked something he liked extrem ely. He used to wear a plain cloth ; only he was

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15 0 LAFCADIO HEAR N

and drew mydress and turned away . When he b ecame the professor of Waseda , Dean Takata invitedhim to his house . It was very rare that he everaccepted an invitation . At the portal, Mrs . Takatawelcomed him in Japanese language . This receptiongreatly pleased him , so he told me when he returnedhome . In our home , furnitures and even the m annerof maids’ hair-dressing were all in genuine Japanesestyle . If I happened to buy some articles of foreigntaste , he would say : Don’t you love Japanesearts ?’ He wanted our boy put on Japanese clothsand wear geta instead of shoes . Sometimes in com

pany with him in usual walks , one of our boys wouldwear shoes . He say : ‘Mamma San , look at mytoes . Don’t you mind that our dear children’s toesshould become disfigured in such manner as mine ?’

As K a zuo’s appearance is very much like a foreigner,

he taught him English . Other boys were taught andbrought up in Japanese way . We kept no interpreter since our Matsue days . A Japanese guestwould come to our house in Western style and smokecigarettes , but the host receives him in Japanesecloth and does all in Japanese fashion a curiouscontrast . With one glance of his nose-glass which hekeeps he catches the whole appearance of any firstvisitor even to the smallest details of the physiognomy. He is extremely near-sighted ; and the minutehe takes a glance is the whole time of his observation ;still his wonderfully keen observation often astonished me .

One day I read the following story to him from aJapanese paper : ‘A certain nobleman’s o ld mother

THE LAST STAGE 15 1

is extremely fond of classical Japanese ways , a b so

l utely antagonistic to the modern manners . Themaids were to wear Obi in o ldways . Lamps were notallowed

,but paper and?) was used instead . Nor

soaps were to be used in this household . So maidsand servants would not endure long .

’ Hearn wasvery much delighted to learn that there still existedsuch a family. ‘How I like that !’ he said .

‘Iwould like to visit them .

’ One time I said to himin joke : ‘You are not like Westerner, except inregard to your nose .

’ Then he said : What shallI do with this nose ? But I am a Japanese . I loveJapan better than any born Japanese .

’

Indeed , he loved Japan with his whole heart , buthis sincere love for Japan was not very well understood by Japanese .

“When asked anything to him , he would notreadily accept that ; but everything he did he did itwith his sincere and whole heart !

One day he said to me : ‘Foreign people are verydesirous to know of my whereabouts . Some papershave reported that Hearn disappeared from the

world . What do you think of this ? How funny !disappeared from the world .

’ Thus his chief pleasurewas only to write, without being disturbed fromwithout . O , while I thus talk of my dear husband

’slife, I feel in myself as if I were being scolded by himwhy I was thus talking of him .

‘Where is Hearnnow ? He has disappeared from the world .

’ Thiswas his desire unknown to the rest of the world .

But though he would scold me I wish to tell abouthim more and more .

152 LAFCADIO HEARN

When he was engaged in writing he was soenthusiastically that any small noise was a great painto him . So I always tried to keep the house still inregard to the opening and shutting of doors , the footsteps of family , etc . and I always chose to enter hisroom when necessary as I heard the sound of hispipes (tobacco- smoking pipes) and his songs in ahigh voice . But after removal to Okubo , our housewas wide enough and his library was very remotefrom the children’s room and the portal . So hecould enjoy his enjoyment in the world of calmness .

“When writing the story of ‘

M im ina sh i H Oichi,’

he was forgetful of the approach of evening . In thedarkness of the evening twilight he was sitting on thecushion in deep thought . Outside of the paperscreens of his room , I for a trial called with a lowvoice ,

‘

H Oich i ! H Oich i !’ ‘Yes , I am a blind man .

Who are you ?’ he replied from within ; he had beenimagining as if he himself were H Oichi with a biwain his hand . Whenever he writes he is entirelyabsorbed with the subject . On those days I one daywent to the city and bought a little doll of blindpriest with a biwa . I put it secretly upon his desk .

As he found it he was overjoyed with it and seemedas if he met an expecting friend . When a rustlingnoise of fallen leaves in the garden woods he saidseriously : ‘Listen ! the Heike are fallen . They arethe sounds of waves at Dan-no-ura .

’ And he listenedattentively . Indeed sometimes I thought he wasmad , because he seemed too frequently he sawthings that were not and heard things that werenot.

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15 4 LAFCADIO HEARN

in English his beloved Kazuo from whom hewould never be parted for a day . He was entitledto his sabbatical year of vacation from the university,and while he took advantage of it he wished to formother connections , as 1ntrigues among those inimicalto him m ade him fear for the tenure of his position .

His family had increased by the birth of anotherson , and his responsibilities withweakening lungsand eyesight began to weigh heavily on his mind .

An arrangement was made for him to lecture fora season in Cornell University at a salary of $25 00 ,and these lectures he at once began to prepare .When , however, he applied for leave it was refusedhim , and an incident occurring at this juncture , ofthe intrusion of an English traveller into his classroom during one of his lectures— an incident whichhad its origin in mere curiosity, - seemed to hisexacerbated imagination to have a significance outof all proportion to its real meaning ; and convincedthat it was intended as a slight by the authorities intheir purpose to be rid of him , he resigned . Thestudents aware that influences were at work torob him of his place made some demonstrationsof resentment , but finally abandoned them at hispersonal request .He plunged more deeply, at once , into the prepara

tion of his work for the American lectures , but shortlybefore he was to have sailed for America the authorities at Cornell withdrew from their contract on

the plea that the epidemic of typhoid at Ithaca theprevious summer had depleted the funds at theircommand .

THE LAST STAGE

Vigorous efiorts were at once undertaken by hisfriends in America to repair this breach of contractby finding him employment elsewhere , with butpartial success , but all these efforts were rendereduseless by a sudden and violent illness , attended bybleeding from the lungs , and brought on by strainand anxiety . After his recovery the lectures preparedfor Cornell were recast to form a book, but the workproved a desperate strain upon already weakenedforces .Mrs . Hearn says thisOf his works ,

‘Japan : an Interpretation ’seemeda great labour to him . So hard a task it was that hesaid at one occasion : ‘It is not difficult that thisbook will kill me .

’ At another time he said : ‘Youcan imagine how hard it is to write such a big book inso short a time with no helper .’ To write was hislife ; and all care and difficulties he forgot whilewriting . As he had no work of teaching in the university , he poured forth all his forces in the workof

‘Japan .

’

Whenthem anuscripts of‘Japan

’were compl eted,

he was very gl ad and had them packed in strongshape and wrote addresses upon the cover for mail .He was eagerly looking forward to see the new vo l

ume . A little before his death he still said that hecould imagine that he could hear the sound of typework of ‘Japan ’ in America . But he was unable tosee the book in his lifetime .

”

To me he wrote , in that lassitude always followingon the completion of creative work : “The ‘rejectedaddresses ’will shortly appear in book form . I don’t

15 6 LAFCADIO HEARN

like the work of writing a serious treatise onsociology.

I ought to keep to the study of birds and catsand insects and flowers , and queer small thingsand leave the subject of the destiny of empires tomen with brains . Despite which verdict he probably recognized it as the crowning achievement ofhis long effort to interpret his adopted country to theworld .

Shortly after its completion he accepted the offerof the chair of English in the Waseda University,founded by Count Okuma , for he was expectingagain to be a father and his pen was unable to meetall the demands upon his income . Meantime theUniversity of London had entered into negotiationwith him for a series of lectures , and it was suggestedthat Ox ford also wished to hear him . It had alwaysbeen the warmest of his desires to win recognitionfrom his own country , and these offers were perhapsthe greatest satisfaction he had ever known . Buthis forces were completely exhausted . The desperatehardships of his youth , the immense labours of hism anhood , had burned away the sources of vitality .

On the 26th of September, 1904— shortly aftercomplet ing the last letter included in thesevol um es ,to

Captain Fujisaki , who was then serving on MarshalOyama’s staff while walking on the veranda inthe twilight he sank down suddenly as if the wholefabric of life had crumbled within , and after a littlespace of speechlessness and pain , his long quest wasover .In “ Kwa idan he had written : I should like,

when my time comes , to be laid away in some

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158 LAFCADIO HEARN

’rickshas carrying little cages containing birds to bere ,leased symbols of the soul released from its earthlyprison .

“The emblems were all Buddhist . The portablehearse, carried by s ix men in blue , was a beautifulObject of unpainted , perfectly fresh , white woodtrimmed with blue silk tassels and with gold andsilver lotus flowers at the corners . Priests carrying food for the dead , university professors , anda multitude of students formed the end of the procession . In the comparative darkness of thetemple , against the background Of black lacquer andgold , eight priests chanted a dirge . Their headswere clean-shaven and they were clothed in white ,with several brilliantly tinted gauze robes imposed .

Af ter a period of chanting punctuated by the tinklingof a bell , the chief Japanese mourner arose from theother side and led forward the son . Together theyknelt before the hearse, touching their foreheads tothe floor, and placing some grains of incense uponthe little brazier burning between the candles . Adelicate perfume filled the air. The wife nextstepped forward with expressionless face her hairdone in stiff loops like carved ebony, her only ornament the magnificent white obi , reserved forweddingsand funerals . She and the younger sons also burnedincense . The chief mourner and the eldest son againbowed to the ground, and the ceremony was ended .

”

The students presented a laurel wreath with theinscription “ In memory of Lafcadio Hearn , whosepen was mightier than the sword of the victoriousnation which he loved and lived among , and whose

THE LAST STAGE 15 9

highest honour It is to have given him citizenship and ,alas , a grave !

” The body was then removed to acrematory, the ashes being interred at the cemeteryof ZOshigaya , his tombstone bearing the inscriptionShOgaku In

-den JO-ge Hachi-unKoji ,” which liter

ally translated means : “Believing Man Similar toUndefil edFlowerB looming like E ight Rising Clouds ,who dwells in Mansion of Right Enlightenment .”

Am enom ori, whom he called “ the finest type ofthe Japanese man,

” writing of him after his death ,said : “ Like a lotus the man was in his hearta poet , a thinker, loving husband and father, andsincere friend . Within that man there burnedsomething pure as the vestal fire , and in that flamedwelt a mind that called forth life and poetry out ofthe dust , and grasped the highest themes of humanthought . ”

Yone Noguchi wrote : Surely we could lose twoor three battleships at Port Arthur rather thanLafcadio Hearn .

A fter his death were issued a few of his last studiesof Japan under the title of

“A Romance of theMilky Way,

” and these , with his autobiographicalfragments included in this volume , conclude hiswork . The last of these fragments

,three small

pages , is named Illusion”

An Old , o l d sea-wall , stretching between twoboundless levels , green and blue — on the right onlyrice-fie l ds , reaching to the sky-line ; on the leftonly summer-silent sea , where fishing-craft of curiousshapes are riding . Everything is steeped inwhite sun ;

160 LAFCAD IO HEARN

and I am standing on the wall . Along its broad andgrass-grown top a boy is running towards me ,running in sandals of wood , the sea-breeze blowing aside the long sleeves of his robe as he runs , andbaring his slender legs to the knee . Very fast heruns , springing upon his sandals ; and he has inhis hands something to show me : a black dragonfly,which he is holding carefully by the wings , lestit should hurt itself struggling . With whatsudden incommunicable pang do I watch the gracions little figure l eaping in the l ight,— between thosesummer silences of field and sea ! A delicateboy , with the blended charm of two races . Andhow softly vivid all things under this milky radiance ,the smiling child-face with lips apart , the

twinkle of the light quick feet , the shadows of

grasses and of little stones !“ But , quickly as he runs , the child will come no

nearer to me , the slim brown hand will never clingto mine . For this light is the light of a Japanese sunthat set long years ago . Never, dearest !never shall we meet , not even when the stars aredead !

“ And yet , can it be possible that I shall notrem emb er P— that I shall not still see , in othermillion summers , the same sea-wall under the samewhite noon, the same shadows of grasses and oflittle stones , the running of the same little sanda l l ed feet that will never, never reach my side ?

”

The compression found necessary in order toyield room for the letters , which I think will bear

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162 LAFCADIO HEARN

from within, who followed none of the great worldvoices , were daz zled by none of the great world-lights ,and used their gift as stepping-stone to no meanerlife ; but clear-eyed and patient , neither elated norcast down , still lifted the lamp as high as theirpowers allowed , still pursued a rt singly for her ownimm ortal sake .”

LETTERS OF LAFCADIO HEARN

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166 LAFCADIO HEARN

Thus Greece furnished Rome with nearly all thesoft instruments of the family of flutes and of lyres ;Germany and the provinces of the North , inhabitedby warlike races , taught their conquerors to acquirea tas te for terrible instruments , of the family of

trumpets and of drums ; Asia, and in particularJudaea , which had greatly multiplied the numberof metallic instruments for use in ceremonies ofreligion , naturalized among the Romans clashinginstruments of the family of bells and tam-tams ;Egypt introduced the sistrum into Italy togetherwith the worship of Isis ; and no sooner hadByzantium invented the first wind organs thanthe new religion of Christ adopted them , that shemight consecrate them exclusively to the solemnitiesof her worship , West and East .

“All the varieties of instruments in the knownworld had thus , in some sort , taken refuge in thecapital of the Empire ; first a t Rome , then atByzantium ; when the Roman decline marked thelast hour of this vast concert , then , at onceceas ed the orations of the Emperors in the Capitoland the festivals of the pagan gods in the temples ;then were silenced and scattered those musicalinstruments which had taken part in the pomps oftriumphs or of religious celebrations ; then disappeared and became forgotten a vast number of

those instruments which pagan civilization hadmade use of, but which became useless am idst ther uins of the antique social system .

”

Following is the description of an organ , awonderful organ , in a letter from St . Jerome to

TO H . E . KREH BIEL 167

D a rdana s ,—made of fifteen pipes of brass , twoair-reservoirs of elephant ’s skin, and two forgebellows for the imitation of the sound of thunder.The writer compiled his essay from eighteen ancientLatin authors

,eight early Italian , about ten early

French, and some Spanish authors all anti

qua ted and unfamiliar.

As you are kindly interested in what I am doingI shall talk about E Go ,

—I shall talk about M E .

I am (this is not for public information) barelymaking a living here by my letters to the paper . Ithink I can make about $4 0 per month . This willkeep me alive and comfortable . I am determ inednever to resume local work on a newspaper . I couldnot stand the gaslight ; and then you know what ahorrid life it is . Whi le acting as correspondent Ishall have time to study , study, study ; and to writesomething better than police news . I have a lot ofwork mapped out for magazine essays ; and though Inever expect to make much money , I think I shall beable to make a living . So far I have had a real hardtime ; but I hope to do better now, as they send memoney more regularly .

I do not intend to leave New Orleans , except forfarther South, the West Indies , or South America .

I am studying Spanish hard and will get along wellwith it soon .

I think I can redeem myself socially here . I havegot into good society ; and as everybody is poor inthe South , my poverty is no drawback .

Yours truly , A a FK a Sm.

168 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO H . E . KREH BIEL

N EW ORLEAN S 1877 .

M Y D EAR KREH BIEL, I am charmed with yourletter, your paper , and your exquisite little jocoseprogramme . The “ Fantaisie Chinoise ” was to mesomething that really smacked of a certain famousEuropean art-cenacle where delightful little partiesof this kind were given . That cenacle was establ ished by the disciples of Victor Hugo , l es H ngol t

‘

i

tres , as they were mockingly but perhaps also noblynamed ; and the records of its performances are someof the most delicate things in French literature .

Hector Berlioz was one of the merry crowd , andBerlioz , by the way , had written some fine romancesas well as fine musical compositions .There is a touch , a brilliant touch , of real art inall these little undertakings of yours , which gives memore enjoyment than I could tell you . Remember Iam speaking of the tout-ensemb le. Were I to makeanv musical observations you might rightly think Iwas talking about something of which I am disgracefully ignorant . Do you know , however , thatI have never forgotten that pretty Chinese melody Iheard at the club that day ; and I sometimes findmyself whistling it involuntarily .

I am indeed delighted to know that you have gotCharles Lee’s instruments , and are soon to receiveothers . Were there any Indian instruments in useamong the Choctaws here , I could get you some , butthey are no longer a musical people . The sadnessthat seems peculiar to dying races could not be more

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LAFCADIO HEARN

I have got everything here down to a fine pointthree hours’work a day !There is but one thing here to compensate for

the abominable heat—Figs . They are remarkablycool , sweet , juicy, and tender . Unfortunately theyare too delicate to bear shipment . The climate is sodebilitating that even energetic thought is out of thequestion ; and unfortunately the only inspiring hour,the cool night , I cannot util ize on account of gaslight . When the night comes on here it is not thenight of Northern summers , but that night of whichthe divine Greek poet wrote , O holy night

,how

well dost thou harmonize with me ; for to me thouart all eye , thou art all ear, thou art all fragranee !”

The infinite gulf of blue above seems a shorelesssea

,whose foam is stars , a myriad million lights are

throbbing and flickering and palpitating, a vaststillness filled with perfume prevails over the land ,made only more impressive by the voices of thenight-birds and crickets ; and all the busy voices ofbusiness are dead . The boats are laid up , cottonpresses closed , and the city is half empty . So thatthe time is really inspiring . But I must wait to recordthe inspiration in some m ore energetic climate .

D o you get M élusine yet ? You are missing agreat deal if you are not . M élusine is preserving allthose curious peasant songs with their music , —someof which date back hundreds of years . They wouldbe a delightful rel ish to you .

Yours 2. jam ais ,L . HEARN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 171

TO H . E . KREH BIEL

N EW OR LEANS , 1877 .

O -ME-TAw-BOOD LE Have I not indeed beenmuch bewitched by thine exotic comedy, whichhath the mild perfume and yellow beauty of aChinese rose ? Assuredly I have been enchantedby the Eastern fragrance of thy many-colouredbrochure ; for mine head

“ is not as yellow as mud .

In thy next epistle , however, please to enlightenmy soul in regard to the mystic title—phrase ,“Remodelled from the original English ;

” for Ihave been wearing out the iron shoes of patience inmy vain endeavour to comprehend it . What I mostdesired , while perusing the play, was that I mighthave been able to hear the musical interludes ,the barbaric beauty of the melodies , and theplaintive sadness of thy serpent-skinned instru

ments . I shall soon return the M SS . to thy hands .By the bye , did you ever hear a rea l Chinese

gong ? I don’t mean a d—d hotel gong, but one ofthose great moon-disks of yellow metal which haveso terrible a power of utterance . A gentleman inBangor, North Wales , who had a private museumof South Pacific and Chinese curiosities , exhibitedone to me . It was hanging amidst Fij i spearsbeautifully barbed with shark’s teeth , which , together with grotesque New Zealand clubs of greenstone and Sandwich Island paddles wrought withthe baroque visages Of the Shark-God , were depending from the walls . Also there were Indianelephants in ivory, carrying balls in their carven

172 LAFCADIO HEARN

bellies,each ball containing many other balls inside

it . The gong glimmered pale and huge and yellow ,

like the moon rising over a Southern swamp . Myfriend tapped its ancient face with a muffled drumstick , and it commenced to sob , like waves upon alow beach . He tapped it again , and it moaned likethe wind in a mighty forest of pines . Again , and itcommenced to roar, and with each tap the roargrew deeper and deeper, till it seemed like thunderrolling over an abyss in the Cordilleras , or the crashing of Thor’s chariot wheels . It was awful , andastonishing as awful . I assure you I did not laughat it at all . It impressed me as something terribleand mysterious . I v a lnly sought to understandhow that thin , thin disk of trembling metal couldproduce so frightful a vibration . He informed methat it was very expensive , being chiefly made ofthe most precious metals , silver and gold .

Let me give you a description of my new residence . I never knew what the beauty of an oldCreole home was until now . I do not believe onecould find anything more picturesque outside ofVenice or Florence . For six months I had been trying to get a room in one of these curious buildings ;but the rents seemed to me maliciously enormous .However, I at last Obtained one for $3 per week .

Yet it is on the third floor , rear building ; — theseo ld princes of the South built always double edifices ,covering an enormous space of ground , with broadwings , courtyards , and slave quarters .The building is on St . Louis Street , a streetseveral hundred years o ld. I enter by a huge arch

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174 LAFCADIO HEARN

dows and glass doors open flush with the floorand ri se to the ceilings . They open on two sidesupon the piazza, whence I have a far view of tropical gardens and m asses of building, half-ruinedbut still magnificent . The walls are tinted paleorange colour ; green curtains drape the doors andwindows ; and the m antelpiece , surmounted bya long oval mirror of Venetian pattern , is of whitemarble veined like the bosom of a Naiad . Inthe centre of the huge apartment rises a bed asmassive as a fortress , with tremendous columns ofcarved mahogany supporting a curtained canopyat the height of sixteen feet . It seems to touch theceiling , yet it does not . There is no carpet on thefloor, no pictures on the wall , a sense of something dead and lost fills the place with a gentlemelancholy ;— the breezes play fantastically withthe pallid curtains , and the breath of flowers ascendsinto the chamber from the verdant gardens below .

Oh , the silence of this house , the perfume , and theromance of it . A beautiful young Frenchwomanappears once a day in my neighbourhood to arrangethe room ; but she comes like a ghost and disappears too soon in the recesses of the awful house .

I would like to speak with her , for her lips drophoney

,and her voice is richly sweet like the cooing

of a dove . O my dove , that art in the clefts of therock

,in the secret hiding-places of the stairs , let

me see thy face , let me hear thy voice , for thy voiceis sweet and thy countenance is com e l v !

”

Let me tell thee,O Bard of the Harp of a Thou

sand Strings , concerning a Romance of Georgia .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 175

I heard of it among the flickering shadow of steamboat smoke and the flapping of sluggish sails .It has a hero greater, I think , than Bl udso ; buthis name is lost . At least it is lost in Southernhistory ; yet perhaps it may be recorded on thepages of a great book whose leaves never turnyellow with Time , and whose letters are eternala s the stars . But the reason his name is notknown is because he was a “

d—d nigger .”

TO H . E . KREH BIEL

NEW OR LEAN S, 1878.

M Y D EAR M U SICIAN , I wrote you such ashab by,disjo inted letter last week that I feel I oughtto make up for it , — especially after your newsy ,fresh , pleasant letter to me , which came like a coolNorthern breeze speaking of life , energy, success ,and strong hopes .I am very much ashamed that I have not yet beenable to keep all my promises to you . There is thatCreole music I had hoped to get copied by Saturday ,and could not succeed in obtaining . But it is onlydelayed , I assure you ; and New Orleans is goingto produce a treat for you soon . George Cable , acharming writer, some of whose dainty New Orleansstories you may have read in Scribner’s M onthly, iswriting a work containing a study of Creole music ,in which the songs are given , with the musical textin footnotes . I have helped Cable a little in collecting the songs ; but he has the advantage of me inbeing able to write music by ear . Scribner will

176 LAFCADIO HEARN

publish the volume . Th is is not , of course , forpublicity .

My new journalistic life may interest you,it is

so different from anything in the North . I have atlast succeeded in getting right into the fantasticheart of the French quarter, where I hear the anti

qua ted dialect all day long . Early in the morningI visit a restaurant , where I devour a plate of figs

,

a cup of black coffee , a dish of cream-cheese,not

the Northern stuff, but a delightful cake of pressedmilk floating in cream , a couple of corn muffins ,and an egg . This is a heavy breakfast here , butcosts only about twenty-five cents . Then I slipdown to the office , and rattle off a couple of leaderson literary or European matters and a few paragraphs based on telegraphic news . This occupiesabout an hour . Then the country papers , halfFrench , half English , altogether barbarous , comein from all the wild , untamed parishes of Louisiana .

Madly I seize the scissors and the paste-pot andconstruct a column of crop-notes . This occupiesabout half an hour . Then the New York dailiesmake their appearance . I devour their substanceand take notes for the ensuing day’s expression of

opinion . And then the work is over, and the longgolden afternoon welcomes me forth to enjoy itsperfume and its laziness . It would be a delightfulexistence for one without ambition or hope of betterthings . On Sunday the brackish Lake Pontcha rtrain offers the attraction of a long swim , and I liketo avail myself of it . Swimming in the Mississippi isdangerous on account of great fierce fish , the alliga

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178 LAFCADIO HEARN

and dark , a night without a moon . Spoke to himin English , no answer ; in French , no response .

My friend bounced him with Spak-ne Ita l iano , or

something of that kind , but it was no good . Weasked him by signs where he came from

,and he

pointed to a rakish lugger rocking at the Picayunepier . I filled his little brown hands with figs

,but he

did not smile . He gravely thanked us with a flash ofthe eve like a gleam of a black opal , and murmured ,“Ah , mille gratias , Seiior .

” Why, that boy wa sMurillo’s b oyafter all ,propri a persona . He departedto the rakish lugger, and we dreamed of Moors andgipsies under the emasculated banana .

L . HEARN .

TO H . E . KREH BIEL

NEW OR LEAN S , 1878.

M Y D EAR KREH BIEL, Your letter took a longweek to reach me ; perhaps by reason of the quarantine regulations which interpose some extraordinarybarriers , l ittle Chinese walls , across the countrybelow Memphis . Thus am I somewhat tardy inresponding .

The same sentiment which caused me so muchpleasure on reading your ideas on the future ofmusical philosophy occasioned something of sincereregret on reading your words ,

“ I am not a thoroughly educated musician ,

” etc . I had hoped (andstill hope , and believe with all my heart , dear Krehbiel) that the Max M ii l l er of Music would be noneother than yourself. Perhaps you will therefore

TO H. E . KREH BIEL 9

pardon some little observations from one who knowsnothing about music .

I fancy that you have penetrated just so far intothe Temple of your Art that , like one of the initiatesof Eleusis , you commence to experience such aweand reverence for its solemn vastness and its whispersof mystery as tempt you to forego further research .

You suddenly forget how much farther you haveadvanced into the holy precincts than most mortals

,

who seldom cross the vestibule ; the more youadvance the more seemingly infinite becomes thevastness of the place , the more interminable itsvistas of arches , and the more mysterious its endlesssuccessions of aisles . The Vatican with its sixtythousand rooms is but a child’s toy house comparedwith but one of the countless wings of Art’s infinitetemples ; and the outer world , viewing only theentrance , narrow and low as that of a pyramid , canno more comprehend the Illimitable that lies beyondit than they can measure the deeps of the Eternitiesbeyond the fix ed stars . I cannot help believingthat the little shadow of despondency visible inyour last letter is an evidence of how thoroughlyyou have devoted yourself to Music , and a partialcontradiction of your own words . It would beirrational in you to expect that you could achieveyour purposes in the very blush of manhood , as itwere ; but you ought not to forget altogether that youalready stand in knowledge on a footing with manygrey-haired disciples and apostles of the art

,whose

names are familiar in musical literature . I believeyou can become anything musical you desire to

180 LAFCADIO HEARN

become ; but in a rt-study one must devote one’swhole life to self-culture , and can only hopeat lastto have climbed a little higher and advanced a littlefarther than anybody else . You should feel thedetermination of those neophytes of Egypt who wereled into subterranean vaults and suddenly abandomed in darkness and rising water, whence therewas no escape save by an 1ron ladder . As the fugitivem ounted through heights of darkness , each rungof the quivering stairway gave way imm ediately hehad quitted it , and fell back into the abyss , echoing ;but the least exhibition of fear or weariness wasfatal to the climber .It seems to me that want of confidence in one’s

self is not less a curse than 1t appears to be a consequence of knowledge . You hesitate to accept aposition on the ground of your own feeling of inadequacy ; and the one who fills it is somebody whodoes not know the rudiments of his duty .

“Foolsrush in , etc . , and were you to decline the situationproffered by Mr . Thomas , merely because youdon’t think yourself qualified to fill it , I hope you donot imagine that any better scholar will fill the bill .On the contrary , I believe that some d—d quackwould take the position , even at a starvation salary ,and actually make himself a reputation on the merestrength of cheek and ignorance . However, you tellme of many other reasons . Of course , is a vastand varied ass ,— a piebald quack of the sort whomakes respectability an apology for lack of brains ;but I fancy that you would be sure to find some assesat the head of any institution of the sort in this coun

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182 LAF CADIO HEARN

invaluable . I do not believe that Cincinnati is yourtrue field for future work , and I cannot persuademyself that the city will ever become a permanent

artistic centre ; but I am satisfied that you will driftout of the newspaper drudgery before long, and ifyou have an opportunity to obtain a good footingin the East , I would take it . Thomas ought to becapable of making an Eastern pedestal for you tolight on ; for, judging by the admiration expressedfor him by the Times , Tribune, Wor l d, H era ld,

Sun, etc . , he must have some influence with musicalcentres . Then Europe would be open to you ina short time with its extraordinary opportunit1es

of art-study , and its treasures of musical literature ,to be devoured free of cost . Your researches intothe archaeology of music , I need hardly say , mustbe made in Europe rather than here ; and I hope youwill before many twelvemonths be devouring theMusical Department of the British Museum , andthe libraries of Paris and the Eternal City .

However , I do not pretend to be an adviser ,only a suggester . I think your good little wife wouldbe a good adviser ; for women seem blessed witha kind of divine intuition , and I sometimes believethey can see much farther into the future than men .

You must not get disgusted with my long letter . Icould not help telling you what interest your lastexcited in me regarding your own prospects .Let me tell you something that I have been think

ing about the bagpipe . Somewhere or other I haveread that the bagpipe was a Roman military instrument , and was introduced into Scotland by the

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 183

Roman troops , together with the kilt . It musthave occurred to you that the Highl and dress bearsa ghostly resemblance to that of the Roman privateas exhibited on the Column of Trajan . I cannotremember where I have read this , but you can doubtless inform me .

I am still well , although I have even had theexperience of nursing a friend sick of yellow fever .The gods are sparing me for some fantastic reason .

I enclose some specimens of the death notices whichsprinkle our town , and send a copy of the lastItem .

My eyes are eternally played out, and I shall haveto abandon newspaper work altogether before long .

Perhaps I shall do better in some little business .What is eternally rising up before me now like aspectre is the Where shall I go —whatshall I do ?” Sometimes I think of Europe , sometimes of the West Indies , of Florida, France , orthe wilderness of London . The time is not far Offwhen I must go somewhere , if it is not to join the“ Innumerable Caravan .

” Whenever I go down tothe wharves , I look at the white-winged ships . O yemessengers , swift Hermae of Traffic , ghosts of theinfinite ocean , whither will ye bear me ?— whatdestiny will ye bring me , wha ti

'

hopes , what despa irs

Your sincere friend and admirer,L . HEARN .

184 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO H . E . KREH BIEL

NEW OR LEAN S , 1878.

M Y D EAR KREH BIEL, —I received your admirable little sketch . It pleased me more than the others

,

—perhaps b ecause , having to deal with a simplersubject , you were less hampered by mechanicaldetails and could maintain your light , gossipy , freshm ethod of instruction in all its simple force .

I recognized several of the cuts . That of theuppermost figure at the right-hand corner was of thegod Terminus , a most ancient deity , and his instrument is of corresponding antiquity perhaps , althoughin country districts the Termina were generallycharacterized by a certain sylvan rudeness . Theearliest Termina were mere blocks of wood or stone .

Among the ancients a circle of ground , or squareborder— it was set by law in Rome at two feetwide surrounded every homestead . This wasinviolate to the gods , and the Termina were placedat intervals along its borders , or at the corners . Atcertain days in the year the proprietor made thecircuit , pushing victims before him , and chantinghymns to the god of boundaries . The same godsexisted among the ancient Hindoos , with whom theGreeks and Romans must have had a close relationship in remote antiquity . The Greeks called thesedeities the 06 02 (Spl a t . I do not know whence yougot the figure ; but I know it is a common one of

Terminus ; and such ea u -forte engravers as Gessner,who excelled in antique subjects , delighted to introduce it in sylvan scenes . I have an engraving by

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LAFCADIO HEARN

DécédéCe ma tin, a 3% heures

Jul ien

Na tif de

and so on. The death notices are usually surmounted by an atrocious cut of a weeping widowsitting beneath a weeping willow —with a huge mauso l eum in the background . Yellow fever deathsoccur every day close by . Somebody is advocatingfiring off cannon as a preventive . This plan ofshooting Yellow Jack was tried in ’

5 3 without success . It brings on rain ; but a rainy day alwaysheralds an increase of the plague . You will see bythe Item ’

s tabulated record that there is a curiousperiodicity in the increase . It might be describedby a line like this

You have doubtless seen the records of pulsationsmade by a certain instrument , for detecting therapidity of blood-circulation . The fever actuallyappears to have a pulsation of graduated increaselike that of a feverish vein . I think this demonstrates a regularity in the periods of germ incubation , affected , of course , more or less by atmospheric changes .

Hope you will have your m usical talks republ ished in book form . Send us Gol den H ours oncein a while . It will always have a warm notice inthe Item . Yours in much hurry, with promise ofanother epistle soon . L . HEARN .

Regards to all the boys .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 7

TO H . E . KREH BIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, 1878.

M Y D EAR KREH BIEL, - I received yours , withthe kind wishes of Mrs . Krehbiel , which affordedme more pleasure than I can tell you , also theGol den H ours with your instructive article on thehistory of the piano . It occurs to me that whencompleted your musical essays would form a delightful little volume , and ought certainly to finda first-class publisher . I hope you will entertain thesuggestion , if it has not already occurred to you .

I do not know very much about musical literature ;but I fancy that no work in the English tongue hasbeen published of a character so admirably suitedto give young people a sound knowledge of theromantic history of music instruments as your es

says would constitute , if shaped into a volume . Theclosing Observations of your essay, markedly original and somewhat startling , were very entertaining .

I have not yet returned your manuscript , becauseRobinson is devouring and digesting that Chineseplay . He takes a great interest in what you write .

I send you , not without some qualms of conscience, a copy of our little journal containing afew personal remarks , written with the idea ofm aking you known here in musical circles . I haveseveral apologies to make in regard to the same .

Firstly , the Item is only a poor little sheet,in

which I am not able to obtain space sufficient todo you or your art labour justice ; secondly , I beg ofyou to remember that if I have spoken too ex trava

188 LAFCADIO HEARN

gantlyfrom a strictly newspaper standpoint , it willnot be taken malicious advantage of by anybody , asthe modest Item goes no farther north than St . Louis .The Creole rhymes I sent you were unintelligible

chiefly because they were written phonetically aftera fashion which I hold to be an abomination . Theauthor, Adrien Rouquette , is the

" last living Indianmissionary of the South , — the last of the Blackrobe Fathers , and is known to the Choctaws by thename of Cha ritah-Ima . You may find him mentioned in the American Encyclopaedia published bythe firm of Lippincott Co . There is nothingvery remarkable about his poetry , except its cecentricity. The “Chant d’un jeune Créole ” was simplya personal compliment , the author gives something of a sketch of his own life in it . It waspublished in L e Propaga teur , a French Catholicpaper, for the purpose of attracting my attention ,as the old man wanted to see me , and thought thepaper might fall under my observation . The other,the “Moqueur-Chanteur ,

” — as it ought to havebeen spelled , - or Mocking Singer ,

” otherwise themocking-bird , has some pretty bits of onom a to

poeia . (This dreamy, sunny State , with its mightyforests of cedar and pine , and its groves of giantcypress , is the natural home of the mocking-bird . )These bits of Creole rhyming were adapted to theairs of some old Creole songs , and the music will ,perhaps

,be the most interesting part of them .

I am writing you a detailed account of the Creolesof Louisiana, and their blending with ,

Creole emigrants from the Canaries , Martinique , and San

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190 LAFCADIO HEARN

you will want , I am sure , to peep at the music .

Your criticism about the resemblance of the melodyto the Irish keening wail does not surprise me

,

although it disappointed me ; for I believe theBreton peasantry are of Celtic origin . Your lastletter strengthened a strange fancy that has come tome at intervals since my familiarity with the Chinesephysiognomy , namely , that there are such strongsimilarities between the Mongolian and certain typesOf the Irish face that one is inclined to suspecta far-distant origin of the Celts in the East . TheErse and the Gaelic tongues , you know , are verysimilar in construction , also the modern Welsh . Ihave heard them all , and met Irish people able tocomprehend both Welsh and Gaelic from the resemblance to the Erse . I suppose you have lots of Welshmusic , the music of the Bards , some of which is saidto have had a Dru idic origin . Tell me if you haveever come across any Scandinavian music the terrible melody of the Berserker songs , and the Runicchants , so awfully potent to charm ; the Raven songof the Sweyn maidens to which they wove the magicbanner ; the death-song of Ragnar L odb rok, or thesongs of the warlocks and Norse priests ; the manysword-songs sung by the Vikings , etc . I supposeyou remember Longfellow’s adaptation of the Heimskringl a legend

“Then the Sca l d took his ha rp and sang,And loud through the mus ic rang

The sound of tha t sh ining word ;And the ha rp-strings a cl angor m ade ,A s if theywere struck with the bl a de

Of a sword .

”

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 191

I am delighted to hear that you have got someFinnish music . Nothing in the world can comparein queerness and all manner of grotesqueness toFinnish tradition and characteristic superstition .

I see an advertisement of “ Le Chant de Roland ,”

price $100 , splendidly illustrated . Wonder if theoriginal music of the Song of Roland has been preserved . You know the giant Taillefer sang thatmighty chant as he hewed down the Saxons at thebattle of Hastings .With grateful regards to Mrs . Krehbiel , I remain

Yours 5 j amais ,L . H .

TO H . E . KREH BIEL

NEW OR LEAN S , 1878.

MY D EAR KREH BIEL, That I should havebeen able even by a suggestion to have been of anyuse to you is a great pleasure . Your information inregard to Pere Rouquette interested m e . The fatherthe last of the Bl a ckrob e Fathers is at present

with his beloved Indians at Ravine-les—Cannes ; butI will see him on his return and read your letter tothe good old soul . If the columns of a good periodical were open to me , I should write the romanceof his life such a wild strange life inspired bythe magical writings of Chéteaub riand in the comm encem ent ; and latterly devoted to a strangelybeautiful religion of his own— not only the poeticreligion of A ta l a and L es N a tchez , but that religionof the wilderness which flies to solitude , and hath

192 LAFCADIO HEARN

no other temple than the vault of Heaven itself,painted with the frescoes of the clouds , and il l um ina ted by the trembling tapers of God’s everlastingaltar, the stars of the firm am ent .

I have received circular and organ-talk . You areright , I am convinced , in your quotation of St .Jerome . To-day I send you the book an o ld

copy I had considerable difficulty in coaxing fromthe owner . It will be of use to you chiefly by reasonof the curious list of writers on mediaeval and an

tique music quoted at the end of the volume .

If you do not make a successful volume of yourinstructive “Talks ,

” something dreadful ought tohappen to you , especia l ly a s Cincinna ti ha s not

a musica l school inwhich chi ldrenwi l l ha ve to lea rn

something a bou t music . You a re the professor ofmusical history at that college . Your work is awork of instruction for the young. As the professorof that college , you should be able to make it asuccess . This is a suggestion . I know you are nota wire-puller— could n’

t be if you tried ; but Iwant to see those talks put to good use , and madeprofitable to the writer, and you have friends whoshould be able to do what I think .

Your friend is right , no doubt , about the

Tig, tig, m a l a b oin

L a chel em a che tangoR edjoum !

”

I asked myblack nurse what it meant . She onlylaughed and shook her head ,

“Mais c’est Voudoo , ca ; je n

’en sais rien !” “Well ,” said I ,

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194 LAFCAD IO HEARN

wanderings over the face of the earth without timidity

,without fear of starving to death after each

migration .

After all , it has been lucky for me that I wasobliged to quit hard newspaper work ; for it hasafforded me opportunities for self-improvementwhich I could not otherwise have acquired . I shouldlike , indeed , to make more money ; but one mustsacrifice something in order to study , and I mustnot grumble , as long as I can live while learning .

I have really given up all hope of creating anything while I remain here , or , indeed, until my condition shall have altered and my occupation changed .

What material I can glean here , from this beautiful and legendary land ,—this land of perfume andof dreams , must be chiselled into shape elsewhere .

One cannot write of these beautiful things whilesurrounded by them ; and by an atmosphere , heavyand drowsy as that of a conservatory . It must beafterward , in times to come , when I shall find myselfin some cold , bleak land where I sha ll dreamregretfully of the graceful palms ; the swamp groves ,weird in their ragged robes of moss ; the goldenripples of the cane-fields under the summer wind ,and this divine sky— deep and vast and cloudless asEternity , with its far-off horizon tint of tender green .

I do not wonder the South has produced nothingof literary art . Its beautiful realities fill the im agimation to repletion . It* is regret and desire and theSpirit of Unrest that provoketh poetry and romance .

It is the North , with its mists and fogs , and itsgloomy sky haunted by a fantastic and ever-changing

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 195

panorama of clouds , which is the land of imaginationand poetry .

The fever is dying . A mighty wind , boisterousand coo l , l ifted the poisonous air from the city at last .I cannot describe to you the peculiar efiect of the

summer upon one unacclimated . You feel as thoughyou were breathing a drugged atmosphere . Youfind the very whites of your eyes turning yellow withbiliousness . The least over- indulgence in eating ordrinking prostrates you . My feeling all throughthe time of the epidemic was about this : I have thefever-principle in my blood , it shows its presencein a hundred ways , if the machinery of the bodygets the least out of order, the fever will get me down .

I was not afraid of serious consequences , but I feltconscious that nothing but strict attention to thelaws of health would pull me through . The experience has been valuable . I believe I could now livein Havana or Vera Cruz without fear of the terriblefevers which prevail there . Do you know that evenhere we have no less than eleven different kinds offever most of which know the power of killing ?I am very glad winter is coming , to lift the

languors of the air and restore some energy to us .The summer is not like that North . At the Northyou have a clear, dry , burning air ; here it is clearalso , but dense , heavy , and so moist that it is neverso hot as you have it . But no one dares exposehimself to the vertical sun . I have noticed that eventhe chickens and the domestic animals

,dogs , cats ,

etc . , always seek shady places . They fear the sun .

196 LAFCADIO HEARN

People with valuable horses will not work themmuch in summer . They die very rapidly of sunstroke .

In winter, too , one feels content . There is nonostalgia . But the summer always brings with itto me always has , and I suppose always willa curious and vague species of homesickness

,as if

I had friends in some country far off, where I hadnot been for so long that I have forgotten even theirnames and the appellation of the place where theylive . I hope it will be so next summer that I can gowhither the humour leads me , the propensitywhich the author of “The H owadj l in Syria

” calleththe Spirit of the Camel .But this is a land where one can really enjoy the

Inner Life . Every one has an inner life of his own ,which no other eye can see , and the great secrets

of which are never revealed , although occasionallywhen we create something beautiful , we betray afaint glimpse of it sudden and brief, as of a dooropening and shutting in the night . I suppose youlive such a life , too , a double existence a dualentity . Are we not all doppelg

'

angers and is notthe invisible the only life we really enjoy ?

You may remember I described this house to youas haunted- looking . It is delicious , therefore , tofind out that it is actually a haunted house . But theghosts do not trouble me ; I have become so muchlike one of themselves in my habits . There is oneroom , however , where no one likes to be alone ; forphantom hands clap , and phantom feet stampbehind them .

“And what does that signify ?” I

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198 LAFCADIO H EARN

TO H . E . KREH BIEL

N EW OR LEAN S , 1879 .

Q U ERID O AMIGO , Your words in regard to myformer letter flatter me considerably , for I feel ratherelated at being able to be of the smallest service toyou ; and as to your unavoidable delays in writing ,never allow them to trouble you , or permit yourcorrespondence to encroach upon your study hoursfor my sake . Indeed , it is a matter of surprise to mehow you are able to spare any time at present inview of your manifold work .

So your literary career — a t least the brilliantportion of it commences in January ; a nd mineends at the same time , without a single flash ofbrightness or a solitary result worthy of preservation .

My salary has been raised three times since I heardfrom you ,

— encouraging,perhaps , but I do not

suffer myself to indulge in any literary speculations .Since the close of the sickly season my only thoughthas been to free myself from the yoke of dependenceon the whims of employers

,from the harness of

journalism . I hired myself a room in the northernend of the French Quarter (near the Spanish) ,bought myself a complete set of cooking utensilsand kitchen—ware , and kept house for myself. I gotmy expenses down to $2 per week , and kept themat that (exclusive of rent , of course) although mysalary rose to $20 . Thus I learned to cook prettywell ; also to save money, and will start a littlebusiness for myself next week . I have an excellentpartner,— a Northern man , - and we expect by

LAFCAD IO HEARN

In the ’70 ’s

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200 LAFCADIO HEARN

How knowst thou but that I shall make the Guachoand llanero , the Peruvian and the Chilian, to contribute right generously to thy store of musicalwealth ?I have not made much progress in the literature

most dear to you ; inasmuch as my tim e has beenrather curtailed, and the days have become provokingly short . But I have been devouring Hoffmann

(Emi le de la Bédo l l iere’s translation in French

could not get a complete English one) ; and I real l ybelieve he has no rival as a creator of musicalfantasticalities . “The Organ-Stop ,

” The Sanatus ,

” “Lawyer K respe l”

(a story of a violin ,replete with delightful German mysticism) , APupil of the Great Tart ini ,

” “Don Juan,” and

a dozen other stories evidence an enthusiasm formusic and an extraordinary sensitiveness to musicalimpress ions on the author’s part . You probablyread these in German , if not , I am sure many ofthem would delight you . The romance of musicmust , I fancy, be a vas t aid to the study of the art ,it seems to me like the sett ing of a jewel, or the frameof a painting . I also have observed in the NewYork Times a warm notice of a lady who is anenthusiast upon the subject of Finnish music, andwho has collected a valuable mas s of the quaintmusic and weird ditties of the North . As you speakof having a quantity of Finnish music , however, Ihave no doubt that you know much more about theyoung lady than I coul d tell you .

Prosper M érim ée’s

“ Carmen has fairly en

thr al l ed me ,— I am in love with it . The colour and

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 201

passion and rapid tragedy of the story is marvellous .I think I was pretty well prepared to enjoy it , however . I had read Simpson’s “History of the Gipsies ,

”

Borro’s1 “ Gypsies of Spain , a volume of Spanish

gipsy ball ads ,— I forget the name of the translator,and everything in the way of gipsy romance I

could get my hands on , — by Sheridan Le Fann ,Victor Hugo , Reade, Longfellow, George Eliot ,Balzac

,and a brill iant novelist also whose works

generally appear in the Cornhi l l M aga z ine. Balzac’sLe Succube ” gives a curious picture of the per

secution of the Bohemians in mediaeval France ,founded upon authentic records . Le Fanu wrotea sweet little story called “The Bird of Pas sage ,

”

which contained a remarkable variety of informationin regard to gipsy secrets ; but it is only withinvery recent years that a really good novel on a gipsytheme has been written in English ; and I am sorrythat I cannot remember the author’s name . I foundmore romance as well as inform a tion

'

in Borro andSimpson than in all the novels and poems put together ; and I obtained a fair idea of the art istic sideof Spanish gipsy life from Doré’s “ Spain .

” Doréis something of a musician as well as a limner ; andhis knowledge of the violin enabled him to makehimself at home in the camps of that music- lovingpeople . He played wild airs to them , and studiedtheir poses and gestures with such success that hisgipsies seem actually to dance in the engravings . Iread that Miss Minnie Hauck plays Carmen ingorgeous costume, which is certainly out of place ,

1 See page 205 .

202 LAFCADIO HEARN

except in one act of the opera . Otherwise from thefirst scene of the novel in which she a dvances poising herself on her hips , like a filly from the CordovanStud,

” to the ludicrous episode at Gibraltar, herattire is described as more nearly resembling thatpicturesque rag-blending of colour Dore’ describesand depicts . If you see the opera, please sendme your criticism in the Ga zette.

You may remember some observations I madebased especially on De Coulanges as to the derivation of the Roman and Greek tongues from theSanscrit . Talking of Borro reminds me thatBorro traces the gipsy dialects to the mother of

languages ; and Simpson naturally finds the Romanyakin to modern H indostanee , which succeeded theSanscrit . Now here is a curious -fact . R omm a in issimply Sanscrit for The Husbands , a domesticappellation applicable to the gipsy races above allothers , when the ties of blood are stronger than evenamong the Jewish people ; and Borro asks timidlywhat is then the original meaning of those mightywords , Rome ” and the “ Romans ,

”

of which noscholar (he claims) has yet ventured to give the definition. Surely all mysteries seem to issue from thewomb of nations , from the heart of Asia .

I see that the musical critic of the New YorkTimes speaks of certain airs in the Opera of Ca rmen

as Havanese airs , A vanera s . If there be a musicpeculiar to Havana, I expect that I shall hear someof it next summer. If I could only write music, Icould collect much interesting matter for you .

There is a New Orleans story in the last issue of

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204 LAFCADIO HEARN

shipped to Cuba, where he remained for fouryears . And when he came back, there were no wit

nesses . )But about the restaurant . I was surprised to find

the bills printed half in Spanish and half in English ;and the room nearly full of Spaniards . It turned outthat my Chinaman was a M anil an, handsome

,

swarthy , with a great shock of black hair, wavy asthat of a M a l ab a ress . His movements were supple ,noiseless , leopardine ; and the Mongolian blood wasscarcely visible . But his wife was positively attractive ; hair like his own, a splendid figure , sharp ,strongly marked features , and eyes whose veryobliqueness only rendered the face piquant , as inthose agreeable yet half- sinister faces painted on Japanese lacquerware . The charge for a meal was onlytwenty-five cents , four dishes allowed , with dessert and coffee , and only five cents for every extra dishone might choose to order. I generally ordered anice steak , stewed beef with potatoes , stewed tongue ,a couple of fried eggs , etc . Everything is cookedbefore your eyes , the whole interior of the kitchenbeing visible from the dining - table ; and nothingcould be cleaner or nicer. I asked him how long hehad kept the place ; he answered , Seven years andI am told he has been making a fortune even atthese prices of five cents per dish . The cooking isperfection .

There is nothing here which would interest youparticularly in the newspaper line . We have a newFrench daily

, L e Courrier de l a L ouisiane; but the

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 205

ablest French editor in Louisiana Dumez ofLe M esch a céb é— was killed by what our local poetsare pleased to term “ The March of the SaffronSteed ! ” The Item

, beginning on nothing, nowrepresents a capital, and I would have a fine prospeet should I be able to content my restless soul inthis town . The D emocra t is in a death strugglewith the gigantic lottery monopoly ; and cannot livelong . Howard is king of New Orleans , and cancrush every paper or clique that opposes him . Hewas once blackballed by the Old Jockey Club ,who had a splendid race-course at Métairie . ByGod , said Howard ,

“ I ’ll make a graveyard oftheir d— d race-course . He did it . The Métairiecemetery now occupies the site of the old racecourse ; and the new Jockey Club is Howard

’s ownorganization .

It just occurs to me that the name of the gypsynovel written by the Cornhill writer is “

Zelda’sFortune ,

” and that I spelled the name Borrowwrong. It has a “w . Merimee refers to Ba rrow ,

which is also wrong . Longfellow borrowed (excusethe involuntary pun) nearly all the gypsy songs inhis “ Spanish Student ” from Borrow . I remember, .

for instance, the songs commencing,

Upon a m ounta in’s tip I stand ,

W ith a crown of red gold inmyhand ;

Loud sang the Spanish ca va l ierAnd thu s his dittyran:

God send the gypsy l a ssie here ,And not the gipsyman.

206 LAFCADIO HEARN

(I have been spelling gipsy and gypsy —don’tknow which I like best .) I wonder why Longfellowdid not borrow the forge-song, quoted by Borrow,

L a s M uchis , The Sparks

More than a hundred l ovely da ughters I see produced a t one

time , fiery a s roses , in one m om ent theyex pire , gra cefu l ly circumvolving .

”

Is it not beautiful , this gipsy poetry ? The sparksare compared to daughters, but they are gitana s“

fiery as roses ;” and in the words , I see them

expire , gracefully circumvolving ,

” we have the figureof the gypsy dance , — the R om a l is , with its wildbounds and pirouettes .

My letter is too long . I fear it will try yourpatience ; but I cannot say half I should wish to say .

You will soon hear from me again ; for l e pereRouquette hath returned ; I must see him , and showhim your letter . A villainous wind from your borealregion has overcast the sky with a cope of lead , andfilled the sunny city with gloom . From my dovecotshaped windows I can see only wet roofs and dripping gable-ends . The nights are now starless

,and

haunted by fogs . Sometimes , in the day there is nomore than a suggestion of daylight , a gloaming .

Sometimes in the darkness I hear hideous cries ofmurder from beyond the boundary of sharp gablesand fantastic dormers . But murders are so commonhere that nobody troubles himself about them . SoI draw my chair closer to the fire , light up my pipede terre Gambiese, and in the fl ickering glow weave

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208 LAFCADIO HEARN

that you mav have interpolated its delivery with avariety of unpublished comments and verbal notes ,such as I have

.

heard you often deliver whenreading from print or MSS . These I should muchhave wished to hear if they were uttered .

Your lecture was 1n Its entirety a vast mass of

knowledge wonderfully condensed into a very smallcompass . That condensation , which I would re

gret if applied to certain phases of your whole plan ,could not have been avoided in its inception ; andonly gave to the whole an encyclopaedic characterwhich must have astonished many of your hearers .To present so infinite a subject in so small a framewas a gigantic task of itself ; and nevertheless itwas accomplished symmetrically and harmoniously ,—the thread of one instructive idea never beingbroken . I certainly think you need harbour nofurther fears as to success in the lecture-room , andfar beyond it .The idea of religion as the conservator of Roman

ticism , as the promoter of musical development ,seemed to me very novel and peculiar . I cannotdoubt its correctness , although I believe some mighttake issue with you in regard to the Romantic idea ,— because the discussions in regard to romantictruth are interminable and will never cease . R e

l igion is beyond any question the mother of allcivilizations , arts , and laws ; and no archaeologicresearch has given us any record of any socialsystem , any a rt , any law , antique or modern , whichwas not begotten and nurtured by an ethical idea .

You know that I have no faith in any “ faiths ” or

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 209

dogmas ; I regard thought as a mechanical process ,and individual life as a particle of that eternal forceof which we know so little : but the true philosopherswho ho ld these doctrines to-day (I cannot sayoriginated them , for they are old as Buddhism)are also those who best comprehend the necessityof the religious idea for the maintenance of thesocial system which it cemented together and devel oped. The name of a religion has little to dowith this truth ; the law of progress has been everywhere the same . The art of the Egyptian , the culture of the Greeks , the successful policy of Rome ,the fantastic beauty of Arabic architecture , were thecreations of various religious ideas ; and passedaway only when the faiths which nourished themweakened or were forgotten . So I believe with youthat the musical art of antiquity was born of theantique religions , and varied according to the character of that religion . But I have also an inclinationto believe that Romanticism itself was engenderedby religious conservation . The amorous Provencalditties which excited the horror of the mediaevalchurch were certainly engendered by the mentalreactions against religious conservatism in Provence ; and I fancy that the same reaction everywhere produced similar results

,whether in ancient

or modern history . This is your idea, is it not ;or is it your idea carried perhaps to the extreme ofattributing the birth of Romanticism to conserv

a tism , Pallas -Athene springing in white beautyfrom the head of Zeus ?There is one thing which I will venture to eriti

210 LAFCADIO HEARN

cize in the lecture , — not positively , however . Icannot help believing that the deity whose nameyou spell Schiva (probably after a German writer)is the same spelled Sceva , Siva , or Shiva, accordingto various English and French authors . If I amright , then I fear you were wrong in calling Schivathe goddess of fire and destruction . The god , yes ;but although many of these Hindoo deities , including Siva, are b i—sexual and self-engendering, asthe embodiment of any force , they are masculine .

Now Siva is the third person of the Hindoo trinity,— Brahma, the Creator ; Vishnu , the Preserver ;Siva, the Destroyer . Siva signifies the wrath of

God . Fire is sacred to him , as it is an emblem Ofthe Christian Siva, the H o lyGhost. Siva is the HolyGhost of the Hindoo trinity ; and as sins against theHoly Ghost are unforgiven , so are sins against Sivaunforgiven . There is an awful legend that Brahmaand Vishnu were once disputing as to greatness ,when Siva suddenly towered between them as apillar of fire . Brahm a flew upward for ten myriadsof years vainly striving to reach the flaming capitalof that fiery column ; Vishnu flew downward forten thousand years without being able to reach itsbase . And the gods trembled . But this legend ,symbolic and awful , signifies only that the heightand depth of the vengeance of God is imm ea sur

able even by himself . I think the wife of Siva isParvati . See if I am right . I have no works hereto which I can refer on the subject .There is to my mind a most fearful symbolism

in the origin of five tones from the head of Siva .

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212 LAFCADIO HEARN

pictured forth upon the walls ? Your remarks onthe subject were exceedingly interesting .

I fear my letters will bore you , however,they

are long only because I must write as I would talkto you were it possible . I am disappointed in re

gard to several musical researches I have beenundertaking ; and can tell you little of interest .The work of Cable is not yet in press — yellowfever killed half his family . Rouquette has beendoing nothing but writing mad essays on thebeauties of chastity, so that I can get nothing fromhim in the way of music until his ~

cra zyfit is over .Several persons to whom I applied for informationbecame suspicious and refused point-blank to doanything . I traced one source of musical lore to itsbeginning, and discovered that the individual hadbeen subsidized by another collector to say nothing .

Speaking of Pacific Island music , you have probablyseen Wilkins’ “Voyages ,

”

5 vols . , with strangemusic therein . I have many ditties in my head , butI cannot write them down .

Thine , ‘ O Minnesinger,L . HEARN .

TO H . E . KREH BIEL

NEW ORLEAN S , 1880 .

DEAR KREH BIEL I was so glad to hear fromyou .

Your letter gave me much amusement . I wishI could have been present at that Chinese concert .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 213

It must have been the funniest thing of the kindever heard of in Cincinnati .It gives me malicious pleasure to inform you that

my vile and improper book will probably be publ ished in a few months . Also that the wickedeststory of the lot — “King Candau l e ”

- is beingpublished as a serial in one of the New Orleanspapers

,with delightful results of shocking people .

I will send you copies of them when complete .

I am interested in your study of Assyrian archaeology . It is a pity there are so few good works onthe subject . L aya rd

’

s una bridged works are veryextensive ; but I do not remember seeing them inthe Cincinnati library . Rawlinson , I think , is moreinteresting in style and more thorough in research .

The French are making fine explorations in thisdirection .

I find frequent reference made to Overb eck’s

Pompeii ,” a German work, as containing valuable

information on antique music , drawn from discoveries at Herculaneum and Pompeu , also toM a z o is , a great French writer upon the same sub

ject. I have not seen them ; but I fancy you wouldfind some valuable information in them regardingmusical instruments . I suppose you have readSir William Ge l l

’s Pompeiiana ,

at least theabridged form of it . You know the double flutes ,etc . , of the ancients are preserved in the museumof Naples . In the Cincinnati library is a splendidcopy of the work on Egyptian antiquities p reparedunder Napoleon I , wherein you will find colouredprints from photographs of the musical in

214 LAFCAD IO HEARN

strum ents found in the catacombs and hypogaea .

But I do not think there are many good books onthe subject of Assyrian antiquities there . Vickerscould put you in the way of getting better works onthe subject than any one in the library

,I believe .

You will master these things much more thoroughly than ever I shall although I love them .

I have only attempted, however, to photograph therapports of the antiquities in my mind, like memoriesof a panoramic procession ; while to you , the procession will not be one of shadows , but of splendidfacts , with the sound of strangely ancient musicand the harmonious tread of sacrificial bands ,all preserved for you through the night of ages .And the life of vanished cities and the pageantryof dead faiths will have a far more charming realityfor you , —the Musician , than ever for me ,the Dreamer .I can’t see well enough yet to do much work .

I have written an essay upon luxu ry and art in thetime of Elagabalus ; but now that I read it overagain , I am not satisfied with it , and fear it will notbe published . And by the way — I request , andbeg , and entreat , and supplicate , and petition , andpray that you will not forget about Mephistopheles .Here , in the sweet perfume-laden air, and summerof undying flowers , I feel myself moved to writethe musical romance whereof I spake unto you inthe days that were .

I can’t say that things look very bright here otherwise . The prospect is dark as that of stormy summer night , with feverish pulses of lightning in the

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LAFCADIO HEARN

TO H . E . KREH BIEL

N EW ORLEAN S, 1880 .

MY D EAR KREH BIEL, Pray remember thatyour ancestors were the very Goths and Vandalswho destroyed the marvels of Greek art which evenRoman ignorance and ferocity had spared ; and Iperceive by your last letter that you possess stilltraces of that Gothic spirit which detests all beautythat is not beautiful with the fantastic and unearthl ybeauty that is Gothic .

You cannot make a Goth out of a Greek , nor canyou change the blood in my veins by speaking to meof a something vague and gnostic and mystic whichyou deem superior to all that any Latin mind couldconceive .

I grant the existence and the weird charm of thebeauty that Gothic minds conceived ; but I do -notsee less beauty in what was conceived by the passionand poetry of other races of mankind . This is acosmopolitan art era : and you must not judgeeverything which claims a rt-merit by a Gothicstandard .

Let me also tell you that you do not as yet knowanything of the Spirit of Greek Art , or the sourceswhich inspired its miraculous compositions ; andthat to do so you would have to study the climate ,the history , the ethnological record , the religion , thesociety of the country which produced it . My ownknowledge is , I regret to say , very imperfect , butit is sufficient to give me the right to tell you that youwerewrong to accuseme of abandoning Greek ideals ,

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 217

or to lecture me upon what is and what is not art inmatters of form and colour and literature . I mightsay the same thing in regard to your judgment ofFrench writers : you confound Naturalism withRomanticism , and vice versa .

Again , do not suppose that I anti insensible toother forms of beauty . You judge all art , I fear, byinductions from that in which you are a master ; butthe process in your case is false ; nor will you beable to judge the art istic soul of a people adequatelyby its musical productions , until you have passedanother quarter of a century in the study of themusic of different races and ages and civilizations .Then it is possible that you may find that secret key ;but you cannot possibly do it now , learned as you are ,nor do I believe there are a dozen men in the worldwho could do it .Now I am with the Latin ; I live in a Latin city ;—I seldom hear the English tongue except whenI enter the office for a few brief hours . I eat anddrink and converse with members of the races youdetest like the son of Odin that you are . I seebeauty here all around me , a strange , tropical ,intoxicating beauty . I consider it my artistic dutyto let myself be absorbed into this new l ife , andstudy its form and colour and passion . And myimpressions I occasionally put into the form of thelittle fantastics which disgust you so much , becausethey are not of the ZE sir and Jotunheim . Were Iable to live in Norway, I should try also to intoxicatemyself with the Spirit of the Land , and I might writeof the Saga singers

£18 LAFCADIO HEARN

From whose l ips inmu sic rol l edThe H am avel of Odin old,W ith sounds mysterious a s the roa rOf ocean on a storm -bea t shore .

”

The law of true art , even according to the Greekidea , is to seek beauty wherever it is to be found ,and separate it from the dross of life as gold from ore .

You do not see beauty in animal passion ; — yetpassion was the inspiring breath of Greek art andthe mother of language ; and its gratification is theact of a creator, and the divinest rite of Nature’stemple .

And writing to you as a friend , I write ofmy thoughts and fancies , of my wishes and disappointm ents , of my frailties and follies and failuresand successes , even as I would write to a brother .So that sometimes what might not seem strange inwords , appears very strange upon paper . And itmay come to pass that I shall have stranger thingsto tell you ; for this is a land of magical moons andof witches and of warlocks ; and were I to tell youall that I have seen and heard in these years inthis enchanted City of Dreams you would verilydeem me m ad rather than morbid .

Affectionately yours ,L . HEARN .

TO H . E . K R E H BIE L

NEW ORLEAN S , 1880 .

M Y D E A R KREHBIEL , Your letter delighted me .

I always felt sure that you would unshackle yourself

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220 LAFCADIO HEARN

Perhaps the best English writer I could refer you towithout mentioning historians proper is John

Addington Symonds , author of“ Studies of the

Greek Poets ,” and Studies and Sketches in South

ern Europe .

” His works would charm you . TheGreeks were brave , intelligent , men of genius , menwho wrote miracles unpeupl e des dem i

—dieux , as aFrench poet terms them ; but the character of theirthought , as reflected in their mythology , their literature , their art , and their history certainly does notindicate the least conception of chastity in themodern signification of the word . No : you will notgo down to your grave with the conception you havemade of them , unless you should be determinednot to investigate the contrary .

I would like to discuss the other affair , also ; butI have so little time that I must forego the pleasure .

As to the fantastics , you greatly overestimate meif you think me capable of doing something muchmore “worthy of my talents ,

” as you express it . Iam conscious they are only trivial ; but I am condemmed to move around in a sphere of trivialityuntil the end . I am no longer able to study as Iwish to , and , being able to work only a few hoursa day , cannot do anything outside of my regularoccupation . My hope is to perfect myself in Spanishand French ; and , if possible , to study Italian nextsummer . With a knowledge of the Latin tongues ,I may have a better chance hereafter . But I fancythe idea of the fantastics is art istic . They are myimpressions of the strange life of New Orleans .They are dreams of a tropical city . There is one

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 221

twin-idea running through them all Love andDeath . And these figures embody the story of lifehere , as it impresses me . I hope to be able to take atrip to Mexico in the summer just to obtain literarymaterial

,sun-paint , tropical colour , etc . There are

tropical lilies which are venomous , but they are morebeautiful than the frail and icy-white lilies of theNorth . Tell me if you received a fantastic foundedupon the story of Ponce de Leon . I think I sent itsince my last letter . I have not written any fantastics since except one , inspired by Tennyson’sfancy ,

Myhea rt wou l d hea r her and bea tH ad it la in for a centurydea d

Wou ld sta rt and trem bl e under her feetAnd blossom in purpl e and red.

”

Jerry , Krehbiel , Ed Miller, Fe ldwisch ! All gone !It is a little strange . But it will always be so . Looking around the table at home at which are gatheredwanderers from all nations and all skies , the certainty of separation for all societies and coteries isvery impressive . We are all friends . In six monthsprobably there will not be one left . D issolution oflittle societies in this city is more rapid than with you .

In the tropics all things decay more speedily, ormummify . And I think that in such cities there is noreal friendship . There is no time for it . Only passion for women , a brief acquaintance for men . Andit is only when I meet some fair-haired Northernstranger here , rough and open like a wind from thegreat lakes , that I begin to realize I once lived ina city whose heart was not a cemetery two centuries

QQQ LAFCADIO HEAR N

o ld, and where people who hated did not kiss eachother

,and where men did not mock at all that youth

and faith hold to be sacred .

Your sincere friend ,L . HEARN .

Read Bergera t’s article on Ofi

'

enb a ch the longone . I think you will like it .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

N Ew ORLEAN S, February, 1881.

M Y DEAR KREHBIEL, A pleasant manner,indeed , of breaking thy silence , vast and vague , illum ina ting my darkness of doubt ' the vision of asunny-haired baby—girl , inheriting, I hope , those greatsoft grey eyes of yours , and the artist dream of herartist father . I should think you would feel a sweetand terrible responsibility like one of those traditiona l guardian-angels entrusted for the first timewith the care of a new life .

I have not much to tell you about myself. I amliving in a ruined Creole house ; damp brick wallsgreen with age , z ig

-z ag cracks running down thefacade , a great yard with plants and cacti in it ; aquixotic horse, four cats , two rabbits , three dogs ,five geese , and a seraglio of hens , all living together in harmony . A fortune-teller occupies thelower floor . She has a fantast ic apartment kept darkall day , except for the light of two little tapers burning before two human skulls in one corner of theroom . It is a very mysterious house indeed . But

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224 LAFCADIO HEARN

contributing a romantic not ,musical series of

little sketches upon the Creole songs and colouredCreoles of New Orleans to some New York periodical . Until the summer comes , however, it will bedifficult for me to undertake such a thing ; the dayshere are much shorter than they are in your northernlatitudes , the weather has been gloomy as Tartarus ,and my poor imagination cannot rise on dampenedwings in this heavy and murky atmosphere . Thishas been a hideous winter, incessant rain , sickening weight of foul air, and a sky grey as the face ofMelancholy . The city is half under water . Thelake and the bayous have burst their bonds , and thestreets are Venetian canals . Boats are moving overthe sidewalks , and moccasin snakes swarm in the oldstonework of the gutters . Several children have beenbitten .

I am very weary of New Orleans . The first delightful impression it produced has vanished . The cityof my dreams , bathed in the gold of eternal summer,and perfumed with the amorous odours of orangeflowers , has vanished like one of those phantomcities of Spanish America , swallowed up centuriesago by earthquakes , but reappearing at long intervals to deluded travellers . What remains is something horrible like the tombs here

,material and

moral rottenness which no pen can do justice to .

You must have read some of those mediaeval legendsin which an amorous youth finds the beautiful witchhe has embraced all through the night crumble intoa mass of calcined bones and ashes in the morning .

Well, I feel like such a one ,' and almost regret that ,

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 225

unlike the victims of these diabolical illusions , I donot find my hair whitened and my limbs witheredby sudden age ; for I enjoy exuberant vitality andstill seem to myself like one buried alive or left alonein some city cursed with desolation like that described by Sinbad the sailor. No literary circle here ;no jovial coterie of journalists ; no associates savethose vampire ones of which the less said the better.And the thought Where must all this endP maybe laughed off in the dayt ime , but always returnsto haunt me like a ghost in the night .

Your friend ,L . HEARN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

N EW ORLEAN S , 1881.

MY DEAR KREHBIEL, To what could I nowdevote myself ? T o nothing ! To study art in anyone of its branches with any hope of succe ss requiresyears of patient study , vast reading, and a very considera b l e outlay of money . This I know . I alsoknow that I could not write one little story of an

tique life really worthy of the subject without suchhard study as I am no longer able to undertake , anda purchase of many costly works above my means .The world of Imagination is alone left open to me .

It allows of a vagueness of expression which hidesthe absence of real knowledge and dispenses withthe necessity of technical precision of detail . Again ,let me tell you that to produce a really artistic work,after all the years of study required for such a task,

226 LAFCADIO HEARN

one cannot possibly obtain any appreciation of thework for years after its publication . Such worksas Flaubert’s “ Salammbo ”

or Gautier’s “Romande la Momie were literary failures until recently .

They were too learned to be appreciated . Yet towri te on a really noble subject , how learned onemust be ! There is no purpose , as you justly ob

serve , in my fantastics , beyond the gratificationof expressing a Thought which cries out within one’sheart for utterance , and the pleasant fancy that a fewkindred minds will dream over them , as ~ uponpellets of green ha scheesch , at least should theyever assume the shape I hope for. And do not talkto me of work , dear fellow , in this voluptuousclimate . It is impossible ! The people here areso languidly lazy that they do not even dream ofchasing away the bats which haunt these crumbling buildings .Is it possible you like Dr . Ebers ? I hope not ! He

has no artistic sentiment whatever, no feeling, nocolour . He is dry and dusty as a mummy preservedwith bitumen . He gropes in the hypogaea like someYankee speculator looking for antiquities to sell .

You must be Egyptian to write of Egypt , youmust feel all the weird solemnity and mighty ponderosity of the antique life ;— you must comprehend the whole force of those ideas which expressedthemselves in miracles of granite and mysteries ofblack marble . Ebers knows nothing of this .Turning from the French writers to his lifeless pagesis like leaving the warm and perfumed bed of a b eloved mistress for the slimy coldness of a sepulchre .

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228 LAFCADIO HEARN

better the sweet human story of Orpheus . It isa dream of human love , — the love that is not onlystrong, but stronger than death , the love thatbreaks down the dim gates of the world of Shadowsand bursts open the marble heart of the tombto return at the outcry of passion . Yet I hold thatthe Greek mind was infantine in comparison to theIndian thought of the same era ; nor could anyGreek imagination have created the visions of thevisionary East . The Greek was a pure naturalist ,a lover of “ the bloom of young flesh ;

” — the Hindoo had fathomed the deepest deeps of humanthought before the Greek was born .

Zola is capable of some beautiful things . HisLe R a in” is pure Romanticism delicate , sweet ,coquettish . His contribution to Les Soirées deMedan ” is magnificent . His “ Faute de l ’A b b éMouret does not lack real touches of poetry. Butas the copy of Nature is not true art according tothe Greek law of beauty, so I believe that the schoolof Naturalism belongs to the low order of literarycreation . It is a sharp photograph , coloured byhand with the minute lines of vein and shading of

down . Zola’s pupils , however, those who wrotethe Soirées de Medan ,

” have improved upon hisstyle , and have mingled Naturalism with Romanticism j n a very charming way .

I was a little disappointed , although I was alsomuch delighted , with parts of Cable’s Grandissimes . He did not follow out his first plan , —as hetold me he was going to do ,

—viz . , to scatter aboutfifty Creole songs through the work, with the music

TO H . E . KR EHBIEL 229

in the shape of notes at the end . There are only afew ditties published ; and as the Creole music dealsin fractions of tones , Mr. Cable failed to write itproperly . He is not enough of a musician , I fancy,for that .By the time you have read this I think you willalso have read my articles onGottschalk and transl a tions . I sent for his life to Havana ; and re

ceived it with a quaint Spanish letter from EnriqueBarrera , begging me to find an agent for him .

I found him one here . His West Indian volume isone of the most extraordinary books I have ever seen .

It is the wildest of possible romances .L . H .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, 1881.

M Y DEAR KREHBIEL , How could you ever thinkyou had oflended me ? I was so sick expectingto go blind and lift the cover of my brains ,

” asthe Spaniards say , and also ill-treated that I hadno spirit left to write . You will be glad to know thatI have now got so fat that they call me The FatBoy ” at the office .

Your letter gave me great pleasure . I think yourplan — vague as it appears to be will crystallizeinto a very happy reality . You have the sacred fire ,le w a i feu sa cré, and with health and strength

must succeed . What you want , and what we allwant

,who possess devotion to any noble idea , who

hide any artistic idol in a niche of the heart , is that

230 LAFCADIO HEARN

independence which gives us at least the time toworship the holiness of beauty , be it in harmoniesof sound , of form , or of colour . You have strength ,youth , not in years only but in the vital resourcesof your being , the true pa rfum de l a jeunesse isperceptible in your thoughts and hopes and abilitiesto create ; and you have other advantages I will notmention lest my observations might be “ embarrassing .

” I should be surprised indeed to hear ina few years from now that you had not been able toemancipate yourself from the fetters of that intensely vulgar and detestably commonplace thing,called American journalism , of which I , alas !must long remain a slave . A prize in the Havanalottery might alone deliver me speedily ; but I mostlyrely on the hope of being able next year to opena little French bookstore in one of the tense quaintold streets . I had hoped to leave New Orleans ; butwith my eyes in their present condition , it wouldbe folly to fight for life over again in some foreigncountry .

You say you hope to see some day a product of mypen more durable than a newspaper article . But Ivery much doubt if you ever will . My visual m isfortune has reduced my hours of work to one third . Ionly work from 10 A .M . to 2P.M . You will see , therefore , that my work must be rapid . At 2 R M . my eyesare usually worn out . But as you seem to have beeninterested in some of my little fantasies , I take theliberty of sending you several now . They are tooflimsy

,‘however, to be ever collected for publica

tion , unless in the course of a few years I could

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232 LAFCADIO HEARN

D id you ever hear negroes play the piano by ear ?There are several curiosities here , Creole negroes .Sometimes we pay them a bottle of wine to comehere and play for us . They use the piano exactlylike a banjo . It is good banjo—playing, but nopiano-playing .

One difficulty in the way of obtaining Creolemusic or ditties is the fact that the French colouredpopulation are ashamed to speak their patois beforewhites . They will address you in French and singFrench songs ; but there must be extraordinary inducem ents to make them sing or talk in Creole .

I have done it , but it is no easy work .

Nearly all the Creoles here white knowEnglish , French , and Spanish , more or less well ,in addition to the patois employed only in speakingto children or servants . When a child becomesabout ten years old , it is usually forbidden to speakCreole under any other circumstances .But I do not suppose thi s will much interest you . Ishall endeavour this time I ’

m afraid to promiseto secure you some Mexican or Havanese music ; andwill postpone further remarks to a future occasion .

I am sorry Feldwisch is ill ; and I doubt if theColorado air will do him good . When he was here Ihad a vague suspicion I should never see him again .

Remember me to those whom you know I like ,and don’t think me dilatory if I don’t write immedia telyon receipt of a letter . I have explained thecondition of affairs as well as I could .

I remain , dear fellow , yours ,L . HEARN .

'

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 3

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

N EW ORLEAN S, 1882.

How are you on Russian music ?You could make a terrible and taking operatic

tragedy on Sacher-M a soch’s Mother of God .

” Getit , if you can , and read it . I send you specimentranslation . It was written , I believe , in German .

Have you read in the Kalewala ”

of the “Brideof Gold , of the “Betrothed of Silver ” ?Have you read how the mother of K u l l evo arose

from her tomb , and cried unto him from the deepsof the dust ?

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

N EW ORLEAN S , 1882.

DEAR K . , It got dark yesterday before I couldfinish some extracts from Kalewala I wanted tosend . They are just suggestion . I must also tellyou I have only a very confused idea of the “Kalewala ” myself , having read it through simply as aromance , and never having had time to study out

all its mythological bearings and meanings . Infact my edition is too incomplete and confusedlyarranged in any ca se : notes are piled in a heap atthe end of each volume , causing ,

terrible troublein making references . See if you can get C a strén.

I want also to tell you that the Pre—Islamic legendsI spoke of to you are admirably arranged for mu

sica l suggestion . The original narrator breaks intoverse here and there , as into song : Rabiah , for

234 LAFCADIO HEARN

instance , recites his own death-song , his motheranswers him in verse . All Arabian heroic storiesare arranged in the same way ; and even in so serious a work as Ibn K ha l l ikan’

s great biographicaldictionary, almost every incident is emphasized bya“ poetical citation .

Your idea about your style being heavy is reallyincorrect . Your art has trained you so thoroughlyin choosing words that hit the exact meaning desiredwith the full strength of technical or picturesqueexpression , that the continual use of certainbeauties has dulled your perception of their nativeforce , perhaps . You do not feel, I mean , the fullstrength of what you write in a style of immensecompressed force . I would not wish you to thinkyou had done your best , though ; better to feel dissatisfied , but not good to underestima te yourself. Iam now , you see , claiming the privilege of criticizingwhat I could not begin to do myself ; but I believeI can see beauty where it exists in style , and I don

’twant you to be underestimating your own worth .

Are your letters of a character suitable for bookform ? Hoppin , —I think , is the name , -the authorof “ Old England , a Yale professor, who made anEnglish tour, formed one of the most charmingvolumes in such a way . Think it over .

Affectionately , LAFCADIO .

Please never even suspect that my suggestions toyou are made in any spirit of false conceit : a friendof the most limited artistic ability can often suggestth ings to a real artist , and even give him confidence .

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236 LAFCADIO HEARN

facts from M e'

lusine, some from the work of theanthropologist Quatrefages .)In order to get a correct idea of what you might

do with the “Kalewala,”

you mu st get it and read it.

Try to get it in the German ! I can give you someidea of its beauties ; but to give you its movement ,and plot , or to show you precisely how much operaticvalue it possesses

,would be a task beyond my power .

It would be like attempting to make one familiarwith Homer in a week .

Once you have digested it , I can then be of realservice , perhaps . You would need the work of

C a strén also— which I cannot read . To determinethe precise mythological value , rank , power, aspect ,etc . , of gods and demons, and their relation to

natural forces , one must read up a little on the Finns .I have Le Duc , but he is deficient .I don’t think that any epic surpasses that weirdest

and strangest of runes . It is not so well known as itdeserves . It gives you the impression of a workwritten by wizards , who spoke little to men , andmuch to nature but the sinister and m l stynatureof the eternally frozen North .

You have in the f‘Kalewala all the elements of amagnificent operatic episode , weirdness , the passion of love , and the eternal struggle between evil andgood , between darkness and light . You have anypossible amount of melody, a universe of inspiration for startling and totally novel musical themes .The scenery of such a thing might be made wilderand grander than anything imagined even by theT a lmudica l lyvast conceptions of Wagner .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 237

An opera founded on the Kalewala might bemade a work worthy of the grandest musician whoever lived : think of the possibilities suggested bythe picture of Nature’s mightiest forces in conten

tion , wind and sea, frost and sun, darkness andluminosity .

I don’t like the antique theme you suggest ,because it has been worn so threadbare that only amiracle could give it a fresh surface . Better searchthe Katha-sarit-Sagara ,

”

or some other Indiancollection , or borrow from the sublimely roughand rugged poetry of Pre-Islamic Arabia. You willnever regret an acquaintance with these bookseven at some cost . They epitomize all the thought ,passion , and poetry of a nation and of a period .

I prefer the “Kalewala ” to any other theme yousuggest . I might suggest many others , but noneso vast , so grand , so multiform . Nothing in theTalmud like that . The Talmud is a Semitic work ;but nothing Jewish rises to the grandeur of Arabicpoetry, which expresses the supreme possibilitiesof the Semitic mind , except , perhaps , the Book ofJob , which is thought by some to have had anArabian creator .What you say about the disinclination to work

for years upon a theme for pure love’s sake , without hOpeof reward , touches me , because I havefelt that despair so long and so often . And yet Ibelieve that all the world’s art-work all thatwhich is eternal —was thus wrought . And I alsobelieve that no work made perfect for the purelove of art , can perish , save by strange and rare

238 LAFCADIO HEARN

accident . Despite the rage of religion and of tim e ,we know Sappho found no rival , no equal . Riverschanged their courses and dried up , seas becamedeserts , since some Egyptian romanticist wrote thestory of Latin-K ham ois . D o you suppose he everreceived $00 for it ?Yet the hardest of all sacrifices for the artist isthis sacrifice to art , — this trampling of self underfoot ! It is the supreme test for admittance into theranks of the eternal priests . It is the bitter andfruitless sacrifice which the artist’s soul is bound tomake , as in certain antique cities maidens werecompelled to give their virginity to a god of stone !But without the sacrifice can we hope for the graceof heaven ?What is the reward ? The consciousness of in

spiration only ! I think art gives a new faith . Ithink all jesting aside that could I createsomething I felt to be sublime , I should feel alsothat the Unknowable had selected me for a mouthpiece , for a medium of utterance , in the holy cyclingof its eternal purpose ; and I should know the prideof the prophet that had seen God face to face .

All this might seem absurd , perha ps , to a purelypractical mind (yours is not too practical) ; but thereis a practical side also . In this age of lightning,thought and recognition have becom e quadruplewinged , like the angels of Isaiah . Do your verybest , your very , very best : the century must recognize the artist if he is there . If he is not recogniz ed, it is because he is not great . Have you faithin yourself ? I knowyou are a great natural artist ; I

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240 LAFCADIO HEARN

looked brighter and the world seemed a little sweeterthan usual . As for me , you could have paid me nohigher compliment . G lad you did not disapproveof the article .

Your clippings are superb . I think your styleconstantly gains in force and terseness . It is ad

m ira b lycrystallized ; and I have not yet been ableto form a permanent style of my own . I trust I willsucceed in time ; but in purity and conciseness youwill always be my master, for your a rt has taught

you style better than a thousand university professors could do . I suppose , however, you willalways be slightly Gothic , not harshly Gothic ,but Middle Period , —making ornament alwayssubordinate to the general plan . I shall always bemore or less Arabesque , covering my wholeedifice with intricate designs , serrating my arches ,and engraving mysticisms above the portals . Youwill be grand and lofty ; I shall try to be at oncevoluptuous and elegant , like a colonnade in themosque of Cordova .

I send you something your article on the JubileeSingers makes me think of . It is from the pen ofa marvellous writer, who long lived at Senegal .If you do not find anything new in it , return it ;but if it can be of use to you , keep it . I hope totranslate the whole work some day .

Your friend ,L . H .

Have heard Patti ; but did not understand herpower until you explained it me .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 24 1

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S 1882.

MY DEAR KREHBIEL, Much as it pleased meto hear from you , I assure you that your letter isshocking . It is shocking to hear of anybody beingcompelled to work for seventeen hours a day . Youhave neither time to think , to study , to read , to doyour best work, or to make any artistic progressnot even to hint of pleasure while working seventeen hours a day . Nor is that all ; I believe itinjures a man’s health and capacity for endurance ,

as well as his style and peace of mind . You have afine constitution ; but if once broken down by overstraining the nervous system you will never getfully over the shock . It is very hard for me to b elieve that it is really necessary for you to do reportoria l work and to write correspondence , unless youhave a special financial object to accomplish Withina very short space of time . The editorial worktouching upon art matters which you are capableof doing for the Tribune might be done in thedaytime ; but what do you want to waste your brainand time upon reportorial work for ? D —n reportoria l work and correspondence , and the Americandisposition to work people to death , and the American delight in getting worked to death ! Well, Ihave nothing more to say except to protest my hopethat the seventeen-hours-a—day business is goingto stop before long ; for the longer it lasts the moredifficult it will be for you to accomplish your ultimate purpose . The devil of overworking one’s self

24 2 LAFCADIO HEARN

is that it renders it impossible to get fair and justremuneration for value given , impossible also tocreate those opportunities for self-advancementswhich form the steps of the stairway to the art isticheaven , impossible to maintain that self—prideand confident sense of worth without which noman , however gifted, can make others fully conscious of it . When you voluntarily convert yourself into a part of the machinery of a great dailynewspaper, you must revolve and keep revolvingwith the wheels ; you play the man in the treadmill . The more you involve yourself the more difficu l t it will be for you to escape . I said I hadnothing further to observe ; but I find I must saysomething more , not that I imagine for a momentI am telling you anything new , but because I wishto try to impress anew upon you some facts whichdo not seem to have influenced you as I believethey ought to do .

Under all the levity of Henri Murger’s picturesqueBohemianism , there is a serious philosophy apparent which elevates the characters of his romanceto heroism . They followed one principle faithfully , so faithfully that only the strong survivedthe ordeal , never to abandon the pursuit of anartistic vocation for any other occupation howeverlucrative , not even when she remained apparently deaf and blind to her worshippers . The conditions pictured by M urger have passed away inParis as elsewhere : the old barriers to ambitionhave been greatly broken down . But I think themoral remains . So long as one can live and pur

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24 4 LAFCADIO HEARN

rolling-mill hand , or the puddler, or the moulder,or the common brakeman on a railroad cannotkeep up at such hours for a great length of time ;and you must know that even hard labour is not soexhausting as brain-work . Don’t work yourselfs ick , o ld friend , you are in a fair way to do it now .

Your friend ,L . H .

TO JEROME A . HART

N EW ORLEAN S, M ay, 1882.

DEAR SIR , Thanks for your kindly little article .

I suppose it emanated from the same source as thecharming translation of Gautier’s Spectre de laRose ” which we reproduced here

,comparing it

with the inferior translation or rather mutilationof the same poem which appeared in theYour translation of the epitaph seems to me superbas far as the first two lines go ; but I can hardly agreewith you as to the last . La plus belle du monde ”

cannot be perfectly rendered by “ the loveliest in theland ” which is a far weaker expression , by reasonof the circumscribed idea it involves . La plusbelle du monde ” is an expression of paramountforce , simple as it is ; it conveys the idea of beautywithout an equal , not in any one country, but in thewhole world . But I think your second line is a masterpiece of faithfulness ; and , as you justly remark,my hobby is literalism .

Very sincerely yours ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO JEROME A . HART 24 5

TO JEROME A . HART

NEW ORLEAN S, May, 1882.

DEAR SIR , I am very grateful for your kindletter and the pleasure of making your acquaintanceeven through an epistolary medium .

We have the same terrible proverb in Spanish thatyou cite in Italian ; but it certainly can never applyto the A rgona ut

’s exquisite translations preserving

metre , colour, and warmth so far as seems to bepossible . Still, I must say that I do not believe thepoetry of one country can be perfectly reproduced incorresponding metre in the poetry of another : muchthat is even marvellous may be done , yet a littleof the original perfume evaporates in the process .Therefore the French gave prose translations of

Heine and Byron : especially in regard to the German poet they considered translation in metricalform impossible . Nevertheless it is impossible alsoto refrain from attempting such things at times ,when the beauty of exotic verse seems to take us bythe throat with the strangulation of pleasure . I havefelt impelled occasionally to make an essay in poeticaltranslation ; the result has generally been a dismalfailure , but I venture to send you a specimen whichappears to be less condemnable than most of myefforts . I cannot presume to call it a translation ,

it is only an adaptation .

As for the lines in Clarimonde,if the book ever

reaches a second edition , I think I will be able toremedy some of their imperfections . Skaldic verse , Isuppose , would be anachronistically vile ; but some

24 6 LAFCADIO HEARN

thing corresponding to the metre of La Chansonde Roland ,

” unrhymed, what the French call ruers

a ssonances . This corresponds exactly with your linesin breadth ; also in tone , as the accent of the assonance is thrown upon the last syllable of each line .

Very gratefully yours ,L . H .

P . S . Just received another note from you . Haveseen the reproduction ; I am exceedingly thankful forthe compliment ; and you know that so far as thecopyright business is concerned , the credit must dothe book too much good for Worthington to find anyfault . I suppose you receive the Times-D emocra t

of New Orleans . I forward last Sunday’s issue , containing a little compliment to the A rgonaut.

Very sincerely yours ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO JEROME A . HART

NEW ORLEAN S, December 1882.

DEAR SIR , I venture to intrude upon you to aska little advice , which as a brother-student of foreignliterature you could probably give me better thanany other person to whom I could apply . I am informed that in San Francisco there are enterprisingand liberal-minded publishers , with whom unknownauthors have a better chance than with the austereand pious publishers of the East . It would be avery great favour indeed , if you could give me somepositive indication in this matter. I desire to find a

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24 8 LAFCADIO HEARN

difficulty of finding publishers in the United Statesis something colossal , and my hopes burned with avery dim flame . I do not know about Worthington, as he is absent in Europe , perhaps he willundertake the publication ; but I fear, inasmuchas he is a Methodist of the antique type , that hewil l not . Now the holy Observer declared thatthe “ Cleopatra ” was a collection of “ stories of

unbridled lust without the apology of natural passion ;

” that “ the translation reeked with the miasmaof the brothel ,

” etc . , etc . , and Worthington wasmuch exercised thereat . Otherwise I should havesuggested the publication in English of “Madem oisel l e de Maupin .

”

I regret that I cannot tell you anything about thefate of Cleopatra’s Nights , but the publisher preserves a peculiar and sinister silence in regard toit . Perhaps he is sitting upon the stool of orthodoxrepentance . Perhaps he is preparing to be generous . But this I much doubt ; and as the transl a tions were published partly at my own expense ,I am anxious only regarding the fate of myoriginal capital .Yes , I read the Critic and considered that

the observation on Gautier stu l tified the paper . Ifthe translator had been dissected by the samehand, I should not have felt very unhappy . ButI received some very nice private letters from Eastern readers , which encouraged me very much , andamong them several requesting for other trans l ations from Gautier.

“Sa l ammb é

” is the greatest , by far, of Flaubert’s

TO JEROME A . HART 24 9

creations , because harmonious in all its plan andpurpose

,and because it introduces the reader into

an unfamiliar field of history, cultivated with astonishing skill and verisimilitude . It was twicewritten

,like La Tentation .

” I translated theprayer to the Moon for the preface to “ La Tentation .

” I sincerely trust you will translate it . Asfor time

,it is astonishing what system will a ccom

pl ish . If a man cannot spare an hour a day, hecan certainly spare a half-hour . I translated “LaTentation ” by this method, never allowing a dayto pass without an attempt to translate a page ortwo . The work is audacious in parts ; but I thinknothing ought to be suppressed . That serpentscene

,the crucified lions , the breaking of the chair

of gold,the hideous battles about Carthage , these

pages contain pictures that ought not to remainentombed in a foreign museum . I pray you maytranslate “

Sa l amm b é ,” a most difficult task, I

fancy, but one that you would certainly succeedadmirably with . In my preface I spoke of “

SaA ”

l amm b o as the most wonderful of Flaubert’s productions .

“Herodias is another story which ought to betranslated . But I would write too long a letter ifI dilate upon the French masterpieces .I will only say that , in regard to recent publica

tions , I have noticed some extraordinary novelswhich have not earned the attention they deserve .

“ Le Roman d’un Spahi seems to me a miracle ofa rt , and Le Mariage de Loti ” contains passagesof wonderful and weird beauty These, with

250 LAFCADIO HEARN

A z iyadé,” are the productions of a French naval

officer who S igns himself Loti . Think I shall tryto translate the first-named next year.Verily the path of the translator is hard . The

Petersons and Estes L auria t are deluging thecountry with bogus translations or translations sounfaithful to the original that they must be characteriz ed as fraudulent . And the great American public like the stufl’. One who translates for the loveof the original will probably have no reward savethe satisfaction of creating something beautiful , andperhaps of saving a masterpiece from desecrationby less reverent bards . But this is worth workingfor .

With grateful thanks , and sincere hopes that youwill not be deterred from translating “

Sa l amm b fi”

before some incompetent hand attempts it , I re

m ain, Sincerely,L AF CA D Io HEARN .

TO R EV . WAYLAND D . BALL

N EW ORLEAN S, 1882.

DEAR SIR , I am very grateful for the warmand kindly sympathy your letter evidences ; and

‘

asI have already received about a half-doz en communica tions of similar tenor from unknown friends ,I am beginning to feel considerably encouraged .

The “ lovers of the antique loveliness ” are provingto me the future possibilities of a long cherisheddream

,the English realiz ation of a Latin style ,

modelled upon foreign masters , and rendered even

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252 LAFCADIO HEARN

matter. An American translation was being offeredto New York publishers a few years ago . It wasnot accepted .

Although my ownwork is far from being perfect,

I think I am capable of judging other translationsof Gautier. The American translations are verypoor “ Captain Fracasse ,

” “Romance ofthe in fact they are hardly deserving thename . The English translations of Gautier ’s worksof travel are generally good . Henry Holt has re

printed some of them , I think .

But out of perhaps sixty volumes , Gautier’s works

include very few romances or stories . I have neverseen a translation of “ Fortunio ”

or M il itona ,

”

perhaps because the sexual idea the EternalFeminine prevails too much therein .

“Avatar ”

has been translated in the New York EveningPost, I cannot say how well ; but I have the manuscript translation of it myself , which I could neverget a publisher to accept . Then there are the “ContesHumoristiques ” (1 vo l .) and about a dozen shorttales not translated . Besides these , and the fourtranslated already Fracasse ,

” “ Spirite ,” “The

Mummy , and possibly “Mademoiselle de Maupin ”

) Gautier’s works consist chiefly of critiques ,

sketches of travel , dramas , comedies includingthe charmingly wicked piece ,

“A Devil’s Tear,”

and three volumes of poems .My purpose now is to translate a series of works

by the most striking French authors , each embodying a style of a school . I tried in the first collectionto offer the best novelettes of Gautier in English ,

TO REV. WAYLAND D . BALL 253

relying upon my own judgement so far as I could .

Hereafter with leisure and health I shall attempt todo the same for about five others . I can understandyour des i re to see more of Gautier, and I trust youwill some day ; but when you have read

“Madem oisel l e de Maupin ” and the two volumes of shortstories , you have read his masterpieces of prose , andwill care less for the remainder . His greatest artis of course in his magical poems ; except the exoticpoetry of the Hindoos , and of Persia, there is nothingin verse to equal them .

I must have fatigued your patience , however, bythis time . With many thanks for your kind letter,which I took the liberty to send to Worthington , andhoping that you will soon be able to see anothercurious attempt of mine in print , I remain ,

Sincerely,LAFCADIO HEARN .

I forgot to say that in point of archaeologic artthe “Rom an de la Momie ” is Gautier’s greatestwork . It towers like an obelisk among the rest .But the American translation would disappoint youvery much ; it is a poor concern all the way through .

It would not be a bad idea to drop a line to ChattoWindus , Pub . , London , and enquire about

English versions of Gautier. You know that AustinDobson translated some of his poems very successfully indeed . In ha ste ,

L . H .

25 4 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO R EV . WAYLAND D . BALL

NEW ORLEAN S, November, 1882.

DEAR SIR, I translate hurriedly for you a fewextracts from Mademoiselle de Maupin ,

” some ofwhich have been used or translated by M a l l ock,

who has said many very clever things , but whosefinal conclusions appear to me to smack of Jesuiticcasuistry .

Gautier was not the founder of a philosophicschool , but the founder of a system of artistic thoughtand expression . His “Mademoiselle de Maupin ” isan idyl , nothing more , an idyl in which all the vaguelongings of youth in the blossoming of puberty , thereveries of amorous youth , the wild dreams of twopassionate minds , male and female , both highlycultivated , are depicted with a daring excused onlyby their beauty . I think M a l l ock wrong in histaking Gautier for a type of Antichrist . There arefew who have beheld the witchery of an antiquestatue , the supple interlacing of nude limbs infrieze or cameo , who have not for the momentregretted the antique . Freethinkers as were Gautier,Hugo , Baudelaire , De Musset , De Nerval , none of

them were insensible to the mighty religious art ofmediaevalism which created those fantastic andenormous fabrics in which the visitor feels like anant crawling in the skeleton of a mastodon . Withthe growth of aestheticism there is a tendency toreturn to antique ideas of beauty, and the last fewyears has given evidence of a resurrection of Greekinfluence in several departments of art . But when

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25 6 LAFCADIO HEARN

lamps of the stars ; no music, save that never-endingocean hymn , ancient as the moon, whose words nohuman musician may learn .

I do not know whether M a l l ock translated Gautierhimself, or made extracts ; but Gautier

’s madrigalpantheistic alone contains the germ of a faith sweeterand purer and nobler than the author Of Is LifeWorth Living ? ” ever dreamed of, or at least comprehended . The poem is a microcosm of artisticpantheism ; it contains the whole soul of Gautier,like one of the legendary jewels in which spirits wereimprisoned .

Speaking of the Decameron, Petronius , An

ge l inus , and so forth , I must say that I think it theduty of every scholar to read them . It is only thusthat we can really Obtain a correct idea of the thoughtand lives of those who read them when first relatedor written . They are historical paintings , they areshadows of the past and echoes of dead voices .BrantOm e or De Chateauneuf teach one more aboutthe life of the fifteenth or sixteenth centuries thana dozen ordinary historians could do . The influenceof sex -and sexual ideas has moulded the history of

nations and formed national character ; yet , exceptMichelet , there is perhaps no historian who has readhistory fairly in this connection . Without suchinfluence there can be no real greatness ; the mindremains arid and desolate . Every noble mind is madefruitful by its virility ; we all have a secret museumin some corner of the brain , although ou r Pompeianor Etruscan curiosities are only Shown to appreciativefriends .

TO REV. WAYLAN D D . BALL 25 7

I have read your enclosed slip and am quitepleased with the creditable notice given you by wayof introduction, and quite astonished that youshould be so young . You have fine prospectsbefore you , I fancy, if so successful already . Ofcourse Congrega tiona l is so vague a word that Icannot tell how latitudinarian your present ideasare (for people in general) , nor how broadly youmay extend your studies of philosophy . Yourcorrespondence with a freethinker of an extremetype would incline me to believe you were veryliberally inclined, but I have often noticed thatclergymen belonging even to the o l d cast- iron typemay be classed among warm admirers of the beautiful and the true for their own sakes .

Very sincerely yours ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

P . S . Have just been looking at M a l l ock, andam satisfied that he made the translation himselfbecause he translated the virginity” by “purity .

N O one but a Catholic or Jesuit would do that ;only Catholics , I believe , consider the consumm a

tion of love intrinsically impure , or attempt toidentify purity with virginity . Gautier would neverhave used the word a word in itself impure andtestifying to uncleanliness of fancy . I have translated it properly by the English equivalent . I suppose you know that M a l l ock

’s aim is to prove that

everybody not a Catholic is a fool .

258 LAFCADIO HEARN

ENCLOSURE

Mademoiselle de Maupin , petite édition,

Charpentier, 2 vols . ; vo l . i i , page 12.

.

“I am a man of the Homeric ages ; the world

in which I live is not mine , and I comprehendnothing of the social system by which I am surrounded . Never did Christ come into the worldfor me ; I am as pagan as Alcibiades or Phidias .Never have I been to Golgotha to gather passion-flowers ; and the deep river flowing from theside of the crucified , and making a crimson girdleabout the world , has never bathed me with itswaves .Page 21 : Venus may be seen ; she hides nothing ;

for modesty is created for the ugly alone ; and is amodern invention , daughter of the Christian disdain of form and matter . ”

“0 ancient worlds ! all thou didst revere is now

despised ; thine idols are overthrown in dust ;gaunt anchorites clad in tattered rags , gory martyrswith shoulders lacerated by the tigers of the circuses , lie heaped upon the pedestals of thy godsso corne and so charming ; the Christ has eu

ve l oped the world in his winding sheet . Beautymust blush for herself, must wear a shroud .

Pages 22, 23 :“Virginity, thou bitter plant , born

upon a soil blood-moistened , whose wan and sicklyflower opes painfully within the damp shadows ofthe cloister, under cold lustral rains ; rose withoutperfume

,and bristling with thorns , - thou hast

replaced for us those fair and joyous roses , b e

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260 LAFCADIO HEARN

rosy-footed , perched one May-time evening on thene st where love makes itself eternal .Marble , pearl , rose , and dove all dissolve , all

pass away ; the pearl melts , the marble falls ,the rose fades , the bird takes flight .Leaving each other, all atoms seek the deepCrucible to thicken that universal paste formed ofthe forms that are melted by God.

By slow metamorphoses , the white marble changesto white flesh , the rosy flowers into rosy lips ,remoulding themselves into many fair bodies .Again do the white doves coo within the hearts

of young lovers ; and the rare pearls re-form intoteeth for the jewel—casket of woman’s smile .

And hence those sympathies , imperiously sweet ,whereby in all places souls are gently warmed toknow each other for sisters .Thus , docile to the summons of an aroma , a sun

beam , a colour, the atom fl ies to the atom as to theflower the bee .

Then dream-memories return of long reveries inwhite temple pediments , of reveries in the deepsof the sea , — of blossom talk beside the clearwatered fountain ,Of kisses and quivering of wings upon the dom es

that are tipped with balls of gold ; and the faithfulmolecules seek one another and know the clingingof love once more .

Again love awakens from its slumber of oblivion ;vaguely the Past is re-born ; the perfume of the

flower inhales and knows itself again in the sweetness of the pink mouth .

TO REV. WAYLAND D . BALL 261

In that mother-of-pearl which glimmers in alaugh, the pearl recognizes its own whiteness ;upon the smooth skin of a young girl the marblewith emotion recognizes its own coolness .The dove finds in a sweet voice the echo of its

own plaint , resistance becomes blunted , and thestranger becomes the lover .And thou before whom I tremble and burn ,what ocean-billow, what temple-font , what rosetree , what dome of old knew us together ? Whatpearl or marble , what flower or dove ?

L . HEARN .

DEAR BALL, H Ope you will like the aboverough prose version of course all the unison isgone

,all the soul of it has exhaled like a perfume ;

this is a faded flower, pressed between the leavesof a book , not the exquisite blossom which grewfrom the heart of Theophile Gautier .

L . H .

TO R EV . WAYLAND D . BALL

NEW ORLEAN S , 1883 .

DEAR BALL, — SO far from your last being apoor letter,

” as you call it , I derived uncommonpleasure therefrom ; and you must not annoy yourself by writing me long letters when you have muchmore important matters to occupy yourself . Towrite a letter of twelve pages or more is the labourequivalent to the production of a column articlefor a newspaper ; and it would be unreasonable to

262 LAFCADIO HEARN

expect any correspondent to devote so much timeand labour to letter-writing more than once in several months . I have always found the friends whowrite me short letters write me regularly

,and all

who write long letters become finally weary andcease corresponding altogether at last . Neverthe

less a great deal may be said in a few words,and

much pleasure extracted from a letter one pagelong .

I should much like to hear of your being called toa strong church , but I suppose , as you say , that youryouth is for the time being a drawback . But I certa inlywould not feel in the least annoyed upon thatscore . You have all your future before you in avery bright glow , and I do not believe that any oneCan expect to obtain real success before he is thirtyfive or forty . You cannot even forge yourself agood literary style before thirty ; and even then itwill not be perfectly tempered for some years .But from what I have seen of your ability , I shouldanticipate a more than common success for you ,and I believe you will create yourself a very wideand strong weapon of speech . And your positionis very enviable . There is no calling which allowsof so much leisure for study and so many oppor

tunities for self-cultivation . Just fancy the vastamount of reading you will be able to accomplishwithin five years , and the immense value of suchliterary absorption . I have the misfortune to be ajournalist , and it is hard work to study at all , andattend to one’s diurnal duty . Another misfortunehere is the want of a good library . You have in

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264 LAFCADIO HEARN

and startling variety of images , symbols , and illustra tions . With these studies I should think one couldnot help forging a good style at least an impressiveone certainly . I give myself five years more study ;then I think I may be able to do something . Butwith your opportunities I could hope to do muchbetter than I am doing now . Opportunity to studyis supreme happiness ; for colleges and universitiesonly give us the keys with which to unlock librariesof knowledge hereafter . Is n’t it horrible to holdthe keys in one ’s hands and never have time to usethem

Very truly yours ,L . HEARN .

Don’t write again until you have plenty of time ;I know you must be busy . But whenever you

would like to hear anything about anything in myspecial line of study , let me have a line from you ,as I might be able to be of some use in matters Ofreference .

TO R EV . WAYLAND D . BALL

NEW ORLEAN S , 1883 .

MY DEAR BALL , I suppose you are quite disgusted with my silence ; but you would excuse itwere you to see how busy I have been , especiallysince our managing editor has gone on a vacation ofsome months .

I was amused at your ideal description of me .

As you supposed , I am swarthy — more than the

TO REV. WAYLAND D . BALL 265

picture indicates ; but by no means interesting tolook at , and the profile view conceals the loss of aneye . I am also very short , a small square-set fellowof about 14 0 pounds when in good health .

I read with extreme pleasure your essay, andwhile I do not hold the same views , I believe yourswill do good . Furthermore , if you familiarize thepublic with Buddhism , you are bound to aid inbringing about the very state of things I hope for .Buddhism only needs to be known to make its influence felt in America . I don’t think that workslike those of Sinnett , or O l cott

’s curious “ Buddhist

Catechism , published by Estes L auria t , willdo any good ; they are too metaphysical , repre

senting a sort of neo-gnosticism which repels byits resemblance to Spiritualistic humbug . But thehigher Buddhism , that suggested by men likeEmerson , JohnWeiss , etc . ,

—will yet have an apostle .

We shall live , I think , to see some strange things .I am sorry I cannot gratify you by my reply about

your projected literary sketches . The policy of thepaper has been to give the preference to lady writerson such subjects , with a few exceptions to whichsome literary reputation has been attached . Youwould have a much better chance with theosophicessays ; but you would be greatly restricted as tospace . You did not write , it appears , to Page ; andhe is now at Saratoga, where he will remain abouttwo months . Anyhow , I would personally adviseyou if you think my advice worth anythingto devote your literary impulse altogether to re

l igious subjects. By a certain class of sermons and

266 LAFCADIO HEARN

addresses you can achieve in a fewyears muchmore success than the slow uphill work of professiona l journalism or l iterature would bring you ina whole decade . With leisure and popu l a i

‘ityyou

could then achieve such literary work as you couldnot think of attempting now . As for me , if I succeedin becoming independent of journalism in anotherten years , I shall be luckier than men of muchgreater talent

,such as Bayard Taylor .Believe me , as ever, yours ,

L . HEARN .

TO R EV . WAYLAND D . BALL

NEW ORLEAN S , June, 1883 .

M Y DEAR FRIEND , You have been very kindindeed to give me so pleasant an introduction to

your personality ; I already feel as if we weremore intimate , as if I knew you better and likedyou more . A photograph is generally a surprise ;—in your case it was not ; you are very much asI fancied you were — only more so .

I read with pleasure your article . The introduction was especially powerful . I must now , however, tell you frankly what I think would be most toyour interest . When I wrote before I had no definiteidea as to the scope or plan of your essay , nor did Iknow the Inter-Ocean desired it . Now I think ityour duty to give the next article to that paper, asthe first is incomplete without it . It does not containmore than the parallel . However , the publicationof your writing in the Inter-Ocean, even though un

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268 LAFCADIO H EARN

TO w . D . O’CONNORN EW ORLEAN S, February, 1883.

DEAR SIR ,— M r . Page M . Baker

,managing editor

of the Times-D emocra t, to whose staff I belong,handed me your letter relative to the article on Gustave Doré stating at the same time that it seemedto him the handsomest compliment ever paid to mywork . I hasten to confirm the statement

,and to

thank you very sincerely for that delicate and neverthe l ess magistral criticism ; for no one could haveuttered a more forcible compliment in fewer words .As the author of a little volume of translationsfrom The

’

Ophil e Gautier I received a number of veryencouraging and gratifying letters from Eastern literary men ; but I must say that your letter upon myeditorial gave me more pleasure than all of them ,

especially , perhaps , as manifesting an artistic sympathy with me in my admiration for the man whomI believe to have been the mightiest of modernartists .

Very gratefully and sincerely yours ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO w . D . O’CONNOR

NEW ORLEAN S, March , 1883 .

MY DEAR M R . O’CONNOR , My delay in answering your charming letter was unavoidable , as I havebeen a week absent from the city upon an excursionto the swampy regions of southern Louisiana, in company with Harpers’ artist , for whom I am writinga series of Southern sketches . As I am already on

TO W . D . O ’CONN OR 269

good terms with the Harpers , your delicate letter tothem cannot have failed to do me far more goodthan would have been the case had I been altogetherunknown . I don’t know how to thank you , but trustthat I may yet have the pleasure of trying to do soverbally , if you ever visit New Orleans .Your books came to hand ; and do great credit to

your skill I am myself a compositor and have heldthe office of proof-reader in a large publishing house ,where I tried to establish an English system ofpunctuation with indifferent success . Thus I canappreciate the work . As yet I have not had time toread much of the report , but as the Life-SavingService has a peculiar intrinsic interest I will expectto find much to enjoy in the report before long .

You are partly right about Gautier, and , I think,partly wrong . His idea Of work was to illustratewith a mosaic of rare and richly-coloured words . Butthere is a wonderful tenderness , a nervous sensib il ityof feeling, an Oriental sensuousness of warmthin his creations which I like better than VictorHugo’s marvellous style . Hugo , like the grand Goththat he is , liked the horrible , the grotesqueness oftragic mediaevalism . Gautier followed the Greekideal so potently presented in Lessing’s “Laocoon ,and sought the beautiful only . His poetry is , Ibelieve , matchless in French literature— anengravedgem-work of words . Well, you can judge for yourselfa little , by reading his two remarkable prose-fanta sies —

“Arria Marcella ” and “ Clarimonde ” inmy translations of him , which you will receive fromNew York in a few days . Something evaporates in

270 LAFCADIO HEARN

translation of course , and as the book was my firsteffort , there will be found divers inaccuracies anderrors therein ; but enough remains to give some ideaof Gautier’s imaginative powers and descriptiveskill . Will also forward you paper you ask for .I regret having to write very hurriedly , as I have

a great press of work upon my hands . You will hearfrom me again , however, more fully . A letter to myaddress as above given will reach me sooner than ifsent to the Times-D emocra t office .

Very gratefully your friend , L . HEARN .

TO w . D . O’CONNOR

NEW ORLEAN S, August, 1883 .

M Y DEAR M R . O’CONNOR, I had feared that Ihad lost a rare literary friend . Your charming letterundeceived me

,and your equally charming present

revealed you to me in a totally new light . I hadimagined you as a delicate amateur only : I did notrecognize in you a Master. And after I had readyour two articles , articles written in a fashion realizing my long-cherished dream of English in splendidLatin attire , I felt quite ashamed of my ownwork .

You have a knowledge , too , of languages unfamiliarto me , which I honestly envy , and which is becomingindispensable in the higher spheres of literary oriticism I mean a knowledge of Italian and German .

As for your long silence , it only remains for me to saythat your letter filled me with that sympathy which ,in certain sad moments , expresses itself only by asilent and earnest pressure Of the hand , because

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272 LAFCADIO HEAR N

into marvellous fantastic shapes ; I want to see thejewels cut into roses of facets , or turned as by Greekcunning into faultless witchery of nude loveliness .And Whitman’s gold seems to me in the ore : hisdiamonds and emeralds in the rough . Would Homerbe Homer to us but for the billowy roar of his mightyverse , the perfect cadence of his song that has theregularity of ocean-diapason ? I think not . And didnot all the Titans of antique literature pol i sh theirl ines , chisel their words , according to severest laws ofart ? Whitman’s is indeed a Titanic voice ; but itseems to me the voice of the giant beneath the volcano , half stifled , half uttered , roaring betimesbecause articulation is impossible .

Beauty there is , but it must be sought for ; it doesnot flash out from hastily turned leaves : it only comesto one after full and thoughtful perusal , like a greatmystery whose key-word may only be found afterlong study . But the reward is worth the pain . Thatbeauty is cosmical it is world-beauty ; there issomething of the antique pantheism in the book, andsomething larger too , expanding to the stars and b eyond . What most charms me , however, is that whichis most earthy and of the earth . I was amused atsome of the criticisms especially that in theCritic to the effect that Mr. Whitman mighthave some taste for natural beauty , etc . , a s ananim a l

ha s! Ah ! that was a fine touch ! Now it is just theanimalism of the work which constitutes its greatforce to me not a brutal animalism , but a human

animalism , such as the thoughts of antique poetsreveal to us : the inexplicable delight of being, the

TO W . D . O’CONNOR 273

intoxication of perfect health , the unutterable pleasures of breathing mountain-wind , of gazing at a bluesky

,of leaping into clear deep water and drifting

with a swimmer’s dreamy confidence down the current , with strange thoughts that drift faster . Communionwith Nature teaches philosophy to those wholove that communion ; and Nature imposes silencesometimes , that we may be forced to think : - themen of the plains say little .

“You don’t feel liketalking out there ,

” I heard one say : “ the silencemakes you silent . ” Such a man could not tell us justwhat he thought under that vastness , in the heart ofthat silence : but Whitman tells us for him . And healso tells us what we ought to think , or to remember,about things which are not of the wilderness but ofthe city . He is an animal, if the Critic pleases ,but a human animal not a camel that weeps andsobs at the sight of the city’s gates . He is rude , joyous , fearless , artless , a singer who knows nothingof musical law , but whose voice is as the voice of Pan .

And in the violent magnetism of the man , the greatvital energy of his work , the rugged and ingenuouskindliness of his speech , the vast joy of his song, thediscernment by him of the Universal Life , I cannot help imagining that I perceive something of theantique sylvan deity , the faun or the satyr . Notthe distorted satyr of modern cheap classics : but theancient and godly one , inseparably connected withthe worship of D ionysus ,

” and sharing with thatdivinity the powers Of healing, saving, and foretelling, not less than the orgiastic pleasures over whichthe androgynous god presided .

274 LAFCADIO HEARN

I see great beauty in Whitman, great force , greatcosmical truths sung of in mystical words ; but thesinger seems to me nevertheless ba rba ric . You havecalled him a bard . He is ! But his bard- songs arelike the improvisations of a savage skald

,or a forest

Druid : immense the thought !mighty the words ! butthe music is wild , harsh , rude , primaeval . I cannotbelieve it will endure as a great work endures : I cannot think the bard is a creator, but only a precursoronly the voice of one crying in the wilderness

M a he stra ight the pa th for the Grea t Singer who

is to come a fter me! And therefore even thoughI may differ from you in the nature Of my appre

cia tionOfWhitman I love the soul of his work, and Ithink it a duty to give all possible aid and recognitionto his literary priesthood . Whatsoever you do todefend , to elevate , to glorify his work you do for theliterature of the future , for the cause of poeticalliberty , for the cause of mental freedom . Your bookis doubly beautiful to me , therefore : and I believeit will endure to be consulted in future times , whenmen shall write the History Of the Literary Movement of as men have already written the“ Histoire du Romantisme .

”

I don’t think you missed very much of my workin the T .

—D . I have not been doing so well . The

great heat makes one’s brain languid , barren , dusty .

Then I have been making desperate efforts to dosome magazine work . Thanks for your praise Of“The Pipes of Hameline .

” I wish , indeed , that Icould drag myself out of this newspaper routine ,even though slowly , like a turtle struggling over

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276 L AFCADIO HEARN

TO JOHN ALBEE

N EW ORLEAN S, 1883 .

DEAR SIR , Your very kind letter,forwarded

to me by Mr . Worthington , was more of an em

couragem ent and comfort than you , perhaps , evendesired . One naturally launches his first literaryeffort with fear and trembling ; and at such a timekind or unkind words may have a lasting effectupon his future hopes and aims .The little stories were translated five years ago ,

in the intervals of rest possible to snatch duringreportorial duty on a Western paper . I was thenworking fourteen hours a day . Subsequently I wasfour years vainly seeking a publisherNaturally enough , the stories are not even nowall that I could wish them to be ; but I trust thatbefore long I may escape so far from the treadmillof daily newspaper labour as to produce somethingbetter in point of literary execution . It has longbeen my aim to create something in English fictionanalogous to that warmth of colour and richness Ofimagery hitherto peculiar to Latin literature . Beingof a meridional race myself, a Greek , I feel ratherwith the Latin race than with the Anglo-Saxon ;and trust that with time and study I may be ableto create something different from the stone-greyand somewhat chilly style Of latter-day English orAmerican romance .

This may seem only a foolish hope , —unsub

stantia l as a ghost ; but with youth , health and suchkindly encouragement as you have given me , I

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 277

believe that it may yet be realized . Of course alittle encouragement from the publishers will alsobe necessary . Believe me very gratefully yours ,

LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, September, 1883 .

DEAR KREHBIEL, I trust you will be able toread the hideously written music I sent you inbatches , according as I could find leisure to copyit . The negro songs are taken from a most extra ordina ry book translated into French from theArabic , and published at Paris by a geographicalsociety . The author was one of those errant traderswho travel yearly through the desert to the Soudan ,and beyond into Timbuctoo occasionally , to purchase slaves and elephants’ teeth from those almostunknown A ra b sultans or negro kings who rule theblack ant-hills of Central Africa . I have only yetobtained the great volume relating to Ouaday ; thevolume on Darfour is coming . Perron , the learnedtranslator, in his

“Femmes Arabes ” (published atAlgiers) , gives some curious chapters on ancientArab music which I must try to send you one ofthese days . The Japanese book a rather costlyaffair printed in gold and colours is rapidly b ecoming scarce . I expect soon to have some Hindoomusic ; as I have a subscription for a library Of

folk- lore and folk-lore music of all nations , of whichonly 17 volumes are published so far E l z evirians .

These mostly relate to Europe , and contain muchBreton , Provencal , Norman , and other music . But

278 LAFCADIO HEARN

there will be several volumes of Oriental popularsongs , etc . Some day, I was thinking, we mighttogether . get up a little volume on the musicallegends of all nations , introducing each legend byappropriate music .

I have nearly finished a collection Of Orientalstories from all sorts of queer sources , the Sanscrit , Buddhist , Talmudic, Persian , Polynesian ,Finnish literatures , etc . , which I shall try topublish . But their having been already in printwill militate against them .

Could n’t get a publisher for the fantastics , and I

am , after all , glad of it ; for I feel somewhat ashamedof them now . I have saved a few of the best pieces ,which will be rewritten at some future time if Isucceed in other matters . Another failure was thetranslation Of Flaubert’s Temptation of SaintAnthony ,

” which no good publisher seems inclined toundertake . The original is certainly one of the mostexotically strange pieces of writing in any language ,and weird beyond description . Some day I may takea notion to print it myself. At present I am also busywith a dictionary of Creole Proverbs (this is a secret) ,four hundred or more of which I have arranged ;and , by the way, I have quite a Creole library ,embracing the Creole dialects Of both hemispheres .I have likewise Obtained favour with two firms ,Harpers’, and Scribners

’- both Of whom have re

centlypromised to consider favourably anything Ichoose to send in . You see I have my hands full ;and an enormous mass of undigested matter toassimilate and crystallize into something .

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280 LAFCADIO HEARN

brief observations on the subject ; but the said sub

ject is curious enough to write a book about . Bythe way, I have become scientific I write nearlyall the scientific editorials for our paper

,which you

sometimes see , no doubt . Farny ought to spenda few months here : it would make him crazy withjoy to perceive those picturesquenesses which mostvisitors never see .

I thought I would go to Cincinnati next week or

so ; but I’m afraid it ’

s too cold now . If I do go,

I ’l l write you .

As to your protest about correspondence , I thinkyou ’re downright wrong ; but I won

’t renew thecontroversy . Anyhow I suppose we keep track ofeach other, with affectionate curiosity . I am quitesorry you missed my friend Page Baker : he is asplendid type , you would have become fastfriends at once . Never mind , though ! if you evercome down here , we

’ll make you enjoy yourself inearnest . Please excuse this rambling letter .

Your Creolized friend,LAFCADIO HEARN .

P . S . By the bye , have you the original music ofthe Muezzin’s call , as called by the first of allMuezzins , Bilal the Abyssinian , to whom it wastaught by Our Lord Mohammed ? Bilal the blackAbyssinian , whose voice was the mightiest and sweetest inIslam . In those first days ,Bilal was persecutedas the slave of the persecuted Prophet of God . Andin the “Gulistan ,

” it is told how he suffered . But afterOur Lord had departed into the chamber of Allah ,

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 281

and the tawny horsemen of the desert had riddenfrom Medina even to the gates of India, conqueringand to conquer, and the young crescent of Islam ,

slender as a sword , had waxed into a vast moon ofglory that filled the world

,Bilal still lived with

that wonderful health of years given unto the peopleOf his race . But he only sang for the Kalif. Andthe Kalif was Omar. SO , one day, it came to pass ,that the people of Damascus , whither Omar hadtravelled upon a visit , begged the Caliph, saying :“0 Commander of the Faithful, we pray thee thatthou ask Bilal to sing the call to prayer for us , evenas it was taught him by Our Lord Mohammed .

” AndOmar requested Bilal . N OW Bilal was nearly acentury old ; but h1s vo l ce was deep and sweet as ever.And they aided him to ascend the minaret . Then ,into the midst of the great silence burst once morethe mighty African voice of Bilal, singing theA dz an, even as it has still been sung for more thantwelve hundred years from all the minarets Of Islam :

God is Grea t !God is Grea t !

I bea r witness there is no other God b ut God !I bea r witne ss tha t M ohammed is the Prophet Of God !

Come to Prayer !

Come to Prayer !

Come unto Sa lva tion!God is Grea t !God is Grea t !

There i s no other God but God !”

And Omar wept and all the people with him .

This is an outline . I ’d like to have the music ofthat . Sent to London for it , and could n

’t get it .L . H .

282 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S , 1883 .

I ’m so delighted with that music that I don’tknow what to do .

First , I went to my friend Grueling, the organist ,and got him to play and sing it . “ It is very queer,

”

he said ;“ but it seems to me like chants I ’

ve heardsome of these negroes sing .

” Then I took it to apiano-player, and he played it for me . Then Iwent to a com et-player I think the com et givesthe best idea Of the sound of a tenor voice andhe played it exquisitely , beautifully . Those arab esques about the name of Allah are simply divine !I noticed the difference clearly . The second ver

sion seems suspended , as a song eternal , something never to be finished so long as waves singand winds call , and worlds circle in space . So Ithought of Edwin Arnold’s lines

Suns tha t burn til l dayha s flown,

Sta rs tha t a re bynight restored,A re thydervishes , O Lord,Wheel ing round thygol den throne !

’

I believe I ’ll use both songs . The suspendedcharacter of the second has a great and patheticpoetry in it . Please tell me in your next letterwhat kind of voice Bilal ought to have - being awoolly-headed Abyssinian . I suppose I ’ll have tomake him a tenor . I can’t imagine a basso makingthose flourishes about the name of the Eternal .Next week I ’ll send you selections of Provencal

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284 LAF CADIO HEARN

Arab ic music generally : the open letter departmentof Scribner

’s pays well , and the Harpers pay even

better . I would like to see you with a series,which

could afterward be united into a volume : you couldcopyright each one . This is only a suggestion .

I will not make much use Of the Koran-readingin Bilal : I want to leave that wholly to you . Ifeel even guilty for borrowing your pithy andforcible Observation upon the canti l l ado .

If you have a chance to visit some of your publiclibraries , please see whether they have Maisonneuve’s superb series : “Les Littératures populairesde toutes les nations . I have fourteen volumesof it , rich in musical Oddities . If they have it not ,I will send you extracts from time to time . Also seeif they have M élusine my volume of it (1878) contains the music of a Greek dance , Older than thefriezes of the Parthenon . Of course , if you can seethem , it will be better than the imperfect copyingof an ignoramus in music like me .

I grossly offended a Creole musician the otherday . He denied in toto the African sense of melody .

But , said I , did you not tell me that you spenthours trying to imitate the notes of a roustaboutsong on your flute ?” I did ,

” he replied ,“ but

not because it pleas ed me — only because I wascurious to learn why I could not imitate it : it stillbaffles me , but it is nevertheless an abomination tomy ear !” “Nay !” said I ,

“ it hath a most sweetsound to me ; and to the ethnologist a most fa scina ting interest . Verily , I would rather listen to it ,than hear a symphony of Beethoven ! ” Where

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 285

upon he walked away in high fury ; and nowhe speaketh to me no more !

Yours very thankfully ,L . HEARN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

N EW ORLEAN S 1883 .

MY DEAR KREHBIEL, - There is nothing inmagazine-work in the way of profit ; for the cent-aword pay does not really recompense the labourrequired : but the magazines introduce one to publ ishers , and publishers select men to write theirbooks . Magazine-work is the introduction to bookwork ; and book-work pays doubly in money andreputation . I hope to climb up slowly this wayit takes time , but Offers a sure issue . You coulddo so much more rapidly .

I find in my Oriental catalogues Vil l oteau

M e'

moire sur l a M usique de l’

antigue Eggpte .

Paris : Maisonneuve Cie , 1883 (15 Wonder if you have the work ln any of your publiclibraries . If you have not , and you would like toget it , I can obtain it from Paris duty-free next

286 LAFCADIO HEARN

time I write to Maisonneuve , from whom I amObtaining a great number of curious books .You must have noticed in the papers the real orpretended discovery of an ancient Egyptian melody ,

- the notes being represented by owls ascendingand descending the musical scale . Hope you willget to see it . I have been thinking that we mightsome day , together, work up a charming collectionof musical legends : each legend followed by aspecimen-melody , with learned dissertation by H .

Edward Krehbiel . But that will be for the dayswhen we shall be well-known and highly esteemedauthors .” I think I could furnish some singularfolk-lore .

Meanwhile Bilal ” has been finished . I wroteto H a rper

’s M aga z ine ; the article was returned

with a very complimentary autograph letter fromAlden , praising it warmly , but recommending itsbeing offered to the A tl antic, as he did notknow when he could “

find room for it .” Findroom for it ! Ah , bah ! I am sorry : becauseI had written him about your share in it , andhoped , if successful , it would tempt him to writeyou . It is now in the hands of another magazine .

I used your Koran-fragment in the form of a musicalfootnote .

I notice you call ed it a brick . Are you sure thisis the correct word ? Each sura (or chapter) indeedsignifies a “ course of bricks in a wall but alsosignifies “ a rank of soldiers ” and the verses ,whi ch were never numbered in the earlier MSS .

are so irregular that the poetry of the term “ brick

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288 LAFCADIO HEARN

shadowing the paper, the most Dantesque silhouetteOf one who walked with me the streets of the far-OffWestern city by night , and with whom I exchangedghostly fancies and phantom hopes . Now in NewYork ! How the old night-forces have been scattered !But is it not pleasant to observe that the members ofthe broken circle have been mounting higher andhigher toward the supreme hope ? Perhaps we mayall meet some day in the East ; whence as legendaryword hath it lightning ever cometh .

” Rememberme very warmly to my Ol d comrade Tunison .

But I think it more probable I shall see you herethan that you shall see me there . New York hasbecome something appalling to my imaginationperhaps because I have been drawing my ideasOf it from caricatures : something cyclopean without solemnity , something pandemoniac withoutgrotesqueness , preadamite bridges , superimpo

sitions of iron roads higher than the aqueducts ofthe Romans ,— gloom , vapour, roarings and lightnings . When I think Of it , I feel more content wi thmy sunlit marshes , and the frogs , and thegnats , and the invisible plagues lurking in visiblevapours , and the ancientness , and the vastlanguor of the land . Even our vegetation here ,funereally drooping in the great heat , seems todream of dead things to mourn for the death ofPan . After a few years here the spirit of the land hasentered into you , and the languor of the placeembraces you with an embrace that may not bebroken ; — thoughts come slowly , ideas take formsluggishl y as shapes of smoke in heavy air ; and a

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 289

great horror of work and activity and noise andbustle roots itself within your soul , I m ean brain .

Soul : Cerebral Activity Soul .I am afraid you have read the poorest ofCable’s short stories . Jean-ah Poquelin ,

” BellesDemoiselles ,

” are much better than Tite Poulette .

”

There is something very singular to me in Cable’spower . It is not a superior style ; it is not a minutelyfinished description for it will often endure noclose examination at all : nevertheless his stories havea puissant charm which is hard to analyze . Hisserial novel “The G randissim es

” is not equalto the others ; but I think the latter portion of

“Dr .Sevier ” will surprise many . He did me the honourto read nea rly the whole book to me . Cultivate him ,

if you get a chance .

Baker often talks with me about you . You wouldnever have any difficulty ln Obtaining a fine thinghere . Perhaps you will be the reverse of flattered bythis bit of news ; but the proprietors here think theycan make the T .

-D . a bigger paper than it is , andrival the Eastern dailies . For mypart I hope theywill do it ; but they lack system , experience , and goodmen , to some extent . N ow good men are not easilytempted to cast their fortunes here at present .

'

It

will be otherwise in time ; the city is really growinginto a metropolis , a world’s market for merchantsof all nations , and will be made healthi er andmore beautiful year by year .Good-bye for the present .

Your very sincere friend ,L . HEARN .

290 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO w . D . O’CONNOR

NEW ORLEAN S , 1883 .

MY DEAR O’CONNOR , I felt the same regret onfinishing your letter that I have often experienced oncompleting a brief but delightful novelette : I wantedmore , and yet I had come to the end ! Yourletters are a l l treasured up ; they are treats , andone atones for years of silence . My dear friend , youmust never trouble yourself to write when you feeleither tired or disinclined : when I think I have thepower to interest you , I will always take advantageof it , without expecting you to write . I know whatroutine is , and what weariness is ; and some day Ithink we shall meet , and arrange for a still morepleasant intimacy .

Your preference for Boutim a r please s me : Boutimar was my pet . There is a little Jewish legend inthe collection Esther somewhat resembling itin pathos .Your observation about my knowledge is some

thing I cannot accept ; for in positive acquirementsI am even exceptionally ignorant . By purchasingqueer books and following odd subjects I have beenable to give myself the air of knowing more than Ido ; but none of my work would bear the scrutiny ofa specialist ; I would like , however, to show you mylibrary . It cost me only about $2000 ; but everyvolume is queer . Knowing that I have nothingresembling genius

,and that any ordinary talent

must be supplemented with some sort of curiousstudy in order to place it above the m ediocre line ,

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292 LAFCADIO HEARN

delusion , a creature , or -a shadow, of the Suprem eDream ? What are the heavens of all Christianfancies , after all , but Nirvana, extinction of

individuality in the eternal interblending of manwith divinity ; for a bodiless , immaterial , nonsensuous condition means nothingness , and nomore . And the life and agony and death of universes , are these not pictured forth in the Orientalteachings that all things appear and disappearalternately with the slumber or the awakening

,the

night or the day , of the Self-Existent ? Finally,the -efforts of Romanes and Darwin and Vignoli toconvince us of the interrelation the brotherhoodof animal s and of men were anticipated by Gautama.

I have an idea that the Right Man could now revol utioniz e the whole Occidental religious world bypreaching the Oriental faith .

Very affectionately ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

If Symonds praises Whi tman , I stand reprovedfor my least doubts ; for he is the very apostle of

cl a ssicism and form .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, December , 1883 .

DEAR KREHBIEL, I greatly enjoyed that sharp ,fresh

,breezy letter from F eldwisch , which I re

enclose with thanks for the pleasure given . WhileI am greatly delighted with his success , I cannotsayI have been surprised : he possessed such rare

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 293

and splendid qualities of integrity and manlinesscoupled with uncommon quickness of business

perception that I would not have been astonishedto hear of Congressman F e ldwisch , always supposing it were possible to be a politician and anupright member of modern American society ,whi ch is doubtful . Please let m e have his exact address ; I would like to write him once in a whi le .

After all , I believe you a re right in regard tom agazine-work . I fully appreciated the effect upona thoroughbred artist of being asked to write something flimsy, ask Liszt to play Yankee Doodle !Our magazines excepting the A tl antic— do notappear to be controlled by, or in the interest of,scholars . Fancy how I felt when asked (indirectly)by the Century to write something SNAPPYeven I , who am no specialist , and if anything

of an artist , only a word-artist in embryo ! Ialso suspect you are correct in your self-interest :your forte will never be l ight work , because yourknowledge is too extensive , and your artistic feeling too deep , to be wasted upon puerilities . Ithas always seemed to me that your style gains insolid strength and beauty as the subject you treatis deeper . To any mind which has grasped thegeneral spirit and aspect of a science , isolated factsare worthy of consideration only in their relation touniversal and , perhaps , eternal laws : anecdote forthe mere sake of anecdote is simply unendurable .

Five yea rs of hard study here have resulted inaltogether changing my own literary inclinations

,

yet, unfortunately , to no immediate purpose that

294 LAFCADIO H EAR N

I can see ; for I must always remain too ignorantto succeed as a specialist in any one topic . But aromantic fact — the possession Of which wouldhave driven me wild with joy a few years ago , oreven one year ago , perhaps — now affects me notat all unless I can perceive its relation to somegeneral principle to be elucidated . And the mereideas and melody of a poem seem to me of smallmoment unl ess the complex laws of versifica tion

be strictly obeyed . Hence I feel no inclination toattempt a story or sketch unless I can find sometheme of which the treatment might do more thangratify fancy . Unless a romance be instructive ,or inaugurate a totally novel style , —I think it canhave no lasting value . The o ld enthusiasm hascompletely died out of me . But meanwhile I amtrying to fill my brain with unfamiliar facts on specialtopics , believing that some day or other I shall beable to utilize them in a new way . I have thought ,for example , of trying to write physiological novelettes or stories , based upon scientific facts inregard to races and characters , but neverthelessof the most romantic aspect possible : natural butnever naturalistic . Still , I am so fully conscious thatthis idea has been suggested by popular foreignnovelists , that I fear it may prove merely a passingambition .

Another great affliction is my inability to travel .I hate the life of every day in connection with anyidea of story—writing : I would give anything to bea literary Columbus , - to discover a RomanticAm erica in some West Indian or North African

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296 LAF CADIO HEARN

gives a neutral tint to his whole life among us . Thereis a Sunday-school atmosphere . But Cable ismore liberal-minded than his creed ; he has alsorare analytical powers on a small scale . BeliefI do not think is ridiculous altogether ;—nothing isridiculous in the general order of the world : but at acertain point it prevents the mind from expanding ;— its horizon is solid stone and its sky a materialvault . One must cease to believe before being ableto comprehend either the reason or beauty of belief.The loss is surely well recompensed by the vastenlargement of vision the opening up of the Starspaces , —the recognition of the Eternal Life throbb ing simultaneously in the vein of an insect or thescintillations of a million suns ,—the comprehensionof the relations of Infinity to human existence , or atleast the understanding that there are such relations ,-and that the humblest atom of substance can tella story more wondrous than all the epics , romances ,legends , or myths devised by ancient or modernfancy— Now I am getting long-winded again . Iconclude with a promise soon to forward anotherlittle bit Of queer music . Hope you like the last .Come down here and I will turn you loose in mylibrary . I need hardly specify that if you come , yournatural expenses will be represented by 0 , -that is ,if you condescend to live in my neighbourhood . Itis not romantic ; but it is comfortable . I ’

m sick ofCreole Romance it nearly cost m e my life .

Bye , my friend .

Your Old goblin ,LAFCADIO HEA RN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 297

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

N EW ORLEAN S, February, 1884 .

DEAR KREHBIEL, I hope you may prove rightand I wrong in my judgement Of A s yousay, I have a peculiar and unfortunate disposition ;nevertheless I had better reasons for my suggestionsto you than it is now necessary to specify .

Your syrinx discoveries seem to me of very un

common importance . What is now important tolearn is this : Is the syrinx an original instrument inthose regions whence the American and West Indianslave-elements were drawn ? an account of whichslave-sources is to be found in Edwa rds’s “Historyof the West Indies The Congo dances with theirmusic are certainly importations from the West Coastthe Ivory Coast . Have you seen Livingstone’s

account of the multiple pipe (cha l umeau , Hartmanncalls it in French) among the Batokas ? I wouldlike to know if it is a syrinx. We have no big publiclibraries here ; but if you have time to make someWest African researches , one could perhaps traceout the whole history of the syrinx’s musical migration . I send you the latest information I have beenable to pick up . Just so soon as I can get the materia l ready, will send also information regardingthe various West Indian dances in brief also thenegro-Creole battle-dance , danced over an uprightbottle to the chant

Ca ma coupé ,C a m a coupé ,Ca ma coupé,

Ca !

298 LAFCADIO HEARN

Ca ma coupé,Ca ma coupé,Ca ma coupé,

Ca !”

I ’ve reopened the envelope to tell you something

I forgot a suggestion .

I was quite pleased to hear you like my Chineseparagraph ; and I have a little proposition . Do youknow that a most delightful book was recently publ ished in France , consisting wholly of odd impressionsabout strange books and strange people exchangedbetween friends by mail . Each impression should bevery brief. Why could n’

t we do this : Once everymonth I ’ll write you the queerest and most outl andish fancy I can get up —based upon fact , ofcourse not more than two hundred words ; and youwrite me the most awful thing that has struck youin relation to new musical discoveries . In a year’stime we would have twenty-four little pieces betweenus , which would certainly be original enough toelaborate into more artistic form ; and we could plottogether how to outrage the public by printing them .

I would contribute $100 or so if we could n’t findan enthusiastic printer . The book would be verysmall .Everything should be perfectly monstrous , you

know ordinary facts , or ideas that could by anychance occur to commonly—balanced minds , oughtto be rigidly excluded .

I don’t think I can go North till April . Marchwould be too cold for me . The temptation of hearinggrand singers is not now strong, I ’m sorry to say ,

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300 LAFCADIO HEAR N

(The work also contains Ancient Egyptian, Babylonian, and Scythian war-cries ; war-cries of the Parth ians and Huns , of the Mongols and Tartars .Sounds of the Battle of Chalons ; Cries of the Carthaginian mercenaries ; Macedonian rallying-call,etc . , etc . In the modern part are included Po lynesian, African , Aztec , Peruvian , Patagonian andAmerican . A magnificent musical version of thechant of Ragnar L odb rok will be found in theAppendix : “We smote with our swords .”

(This Is not intended as a part Of our privateextravaganz as : but is written as a just punishmentfor your silence .)

Vo l . I . MONOGRAPH UPON TH E POPULAR M E L

ODIES OF EXTINCT RACES . XXIII and700 pp .

MUS IC OF NOMAD RACES . Introduction .

“Men of Prey ; the Falcon and EagleRaces of Mankind .

” Part I . TheArabs . Part II . The Touareg Of theGreater Desert . Part III . The Turkish and Tartar Tribes of Central Asia .

With 1600 examples of melodies , en

gravings of musical instruments , etc .

MANIFESTATION OF CLIMATIC IN FL U

ENCE IN POPULAR MELODY . In TwoParts . Part I . Melodies of Mountaindwellers . Part II . Melodies of Valleydwellers and inhabitants of low countries . (3379 Ex .)

TO H . E . KR EHBIEL 301

Race-Temper as Evidenced in thePopular Music of Various Peoples .Part I . The Melancholy Tendency .

Part II . The Joyous Temperament .Part III . Ferocity . Part IV . etc . , etc . ,

2700 ex.

V. PECULIAR CHARACTERISTICS OF EROTICMUS IC IN A L L COUNTRIES . (Thisvolume contains nearly 7 000 examplesOf curious music from India, Japan,China, Burmah , Siam , Arabia, Polynesia, Africa , and many other parts ofthe world . )

Vo l . VI. MUS IC OF TH E DANCE IN TH E ORIENT.

(3 5 00 pp .)Chap . I . The Mussulman Bayaderes of India

(17 photolith) .

Chap. II . The Bayaderes of Hinduism especia l lyof the Krishna and Sivaitesects .

Ohap. III . Examples of Burmese Dance—mu

sic (with 25 photographic plates) .

Chap . IV . The Tea -house dancers Of Japan ;and Courtesans of Yokohama .

(3 4 Photo-Engrav .)Chap . V. Chinese dancing melodies . (23 Photo

Engrav . )Chap. VI . Tartar dance-melodies : the nomad

dancing girls . (5 0 beautiful co l

oured plates .)

302 LAFCADIO HEARN

Chap . VII . Circassian andGeorgian Dances , withMusic . Examples of Daghestanmelodies (4 9 plates) .

Chap.VIII. Oriental War-Dances (4 80 melodies) .

Vo l . VII . T H E WEIRD IN SAVAGE MUS IC (with169 highly curious examples) .

Vol . VIII . HISTORY OF CREOLE MUS IC IN TH E

OCCIDENTAL INDIES .

Part I . Franco-African Melody , and its ultimatedevelopment . (298 ex . )

Part II . Spanish . Creole music and the historyof its formation (3 5 9 examples of

Havanese and other West Indianairs are given) .

Vo l . IX—X—XI . Melodies of African Races . (Thishighly important work contains noless than 5 000 different melodies , anda complete description Of all Africanmusical instruments known , illustratedwith numerous engravings .) Price perVOl . ,

Vo l . XII . RECONSTRUCTION OF ANTIQUE MELODIES AFTER TH E IRREFUTABLESCIENTIFIC SYSTEM OF TH E GERMANSCHOOL OF MUS ICAL EVOLUTIONISTS .

(By this new process of anthropologicalresearch , it is now poss ible to reconstruct a lost melody , precisely as it waspreviously possible to affirm the exist

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304 LAFCADIO HEARN

T H E M E LOD IE s OF MIGHTY LAMENTATION . Isis and Osiris . —Demeterand Persephone . “ By the Riversof Babylon .

” Jeremiah’s knowledge of music . Lamentation of

Thomyris . The musicians Of ShahJehan, etc .

Apocalyptic music Of the B ible .

MOURNING FOR TH E DEAD . History ofcries of mourning in all nations .Description of ancient writers —Howling of the women of the T eutoni andCimbri . Terror of the Romans atthe hideous sounds . (With 1300 examples of musical wailing amongancient nations . ) -Modern wailing .

— Survival of the Ancient MourningCry am ong modern peoples —TheCorsican voceri . African funeralchants Negro-Creole funeral-wail .

(Tout piti ca bri ca Zoenon ye) .

Irish keening—Gradual developmentof funeral-music , etc . , etc .

SONGS OF TRIUMPH . Up to theeverlasting Gates of Capitolian Jove .

”

Triumphal Chants of Ramesesand Thotmes . Assyrian triumphalm arches . A Tartar triumph .

Arabian melodies of war-joy, etc . , etc.

TO H . E . KREH BIEL 305

KOROL AR C’H LEZE (The Sword-Dance)

Ancient dia l ect of Léon (Bretagne)

Goa d, gwin, ha Korol .D’id Heol !

Goad, gwin, ha Korol .

Tan! tan! dir ! oh l dir ! tan! tan! dir ha tan!

Tann! tann! tir l ha tonn! tonnl tir ha tir ha tannl

H a Korol ha K an,

K an, ha Kann!H a Korol ha K an.

T an! tan!

Korol ar c’hl eze ,

Enn eze ;

Korol ar c’hl eze .

T an! tan!

K an ar c’hl eze gl a z

A ga r l a z ;K an a r c

’hl eze gl a z .

T an! tan!

Kann ar c’hl ez e gone

A r Rone !Kann a r c

’hl ez e gone .

T an! tan!

Kl eze ! Rone bra zA r stourmea z !

K l eze ! Rone bra z !T an! tan!

K aneveden gen

Wa r da benn!K aneveden gen!

Tan tan dir oh dir tan tandir ha tan

Tami tann tir ha tonn tonn tann tir ha tir ha tann

LITERAL TRANSLATION

B l ood, wine, and dance to thee , 0 Sun! bl ood, wine and dance !And dance and song, song and ba ttl e ! dance and song !The Dance of Swords, in circl e ! the dance of swords .

3 06 LAFCADIO HEARN

Song of the B lue Sword tha t l oves murder ! song of the blue sword !Ba ttl e where the Savage Sword is King ! ba ttl e of the savage sword !O Sword ! 0 grea tKing of the fiel ds of ba ttl e ! O Sword ! 0 grea t

King !Let the Ra inbow shine about thybrow ! l et the ra inbow shine !

(The chorus is literal in myown translation, or

rather metrifica tion!)(Rude metrical translation by your most humble

servant .)

CELTIC SWORD- SON G

Dance, ba ttl e-bl ood, and wine,0 Sun, are thine !

Dance, battl e-bl ood, and wine !0 F ire ! O F ire !

0 Steel ! 0 Steel !

0 F ire ! 0 Fire !

0 Steel and F ire !

0 Oak! 0 Oak!

0 E a rth ! O Waves !

O Wa ves ! 0 E a rth !

0 E a rth and Oak!

The dance-chant and the dea th-l ockIn ba ttle-shock!

The dance-chant and the dea th-l ock!0 F ire ! 0 F ire !

0 Steel ! 0 Steel !

The Sword-dance , circl ingIn a ring !

The Sword-dance, circl ing !0 F ire ! 0 F ire !

0 Steel ! 0 Steel !

Sing the Sl aughter-l over blueBroa d and true !

Sing the Sl a ughter-lover b lue !0 F ire ! 0 F ire !

0 Steel ! 0 Steel !

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308 LAFCADIO HEARN

Kalewala is the only essentially musica l epopeaI know

“

of. Orpheus is a mere clumsy charlatan toWa inam oinen and the wooers . The incidents aremore charmingly enormous than anything in theTalmud, Ramayana, or Mahabharata . O ! the Oldwoman who talks to the Moon ! and the wickedsinger who turns all that hear him to stone ! andthe phantoms created by magical chant ! and thesongs that make the stars totter in the frosty sky !and the melodies that melt the gates of iron ! Andthen , too , the episode of the Eternal Smith , by whoseart the blue vault of heaven was wrought into shape ;and the weird sleigh-ride over the Frozen Sea ; andthe words at whose utterance “ the waters Of thegreat deep lifted a thousand heads to listen ! ” Andthe story of the Earth-giant , aroused by magicalforce from his slumber of innumerable years , toteach to the Magician the runes by which all thingsare created , the enchanted songs by which theBeginning was made to Begin . If you have notread it , try to get a prose translation : no poeticalversion can preserve the delightful goblinry ande lfishness of the original , whereof the metre ringseven as the ringing of a mighty harp .

I have also a delightful Malay poem which wouldmake a much finer operatic subject or dramaticsubject than the European féeries modelled uponthe Hindoo drama of Sakuntala, or, as my Frenchtranslator writes it , S a counta l a . I have an imexh a ustib l e quarry of monstrous and diabolical inspiration .

Yours truly, etc .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 3 09

I spend whole days in vocal efl’orts— vain onesto imitate those delicious arabesques about the

Name of Allah in the Muezzin’s Song, — and dosuddenly awake by night with a Voice in my ears ,as of a Summons to Prayer. Bismillah ! enormousis God!

(Punishment N O . 2)M onograph upon the M usic of the Witches’

Sa bba th .

D ictiona ry of the M usica l Instruments of a l l

N a tions .

With wood engravings .The M usica l L egends of A l l N a tions .

By H . Ed . Krehbiel and Lafcadio Hearn .

Seven Vols . in 8vo , with 100 chromolithographsand 2000 eau-fortes . Price $300 per vo l . 24 thedition .

Onthe H owl ing D ervishes , and on the melodies ofthe six other orders of Dervishes . With music .

The Song of the M uezzin inA l l M os l em Countries .

From Western Morocco to the Chinese Sea.

Nine hundred different Notations of the Chant— with an Appendix treating of the Chant inthe Oases and in the Soudan , as affected byAfrican influence . Price $8000 .

D ance-M usic of the A ncient Occident, 1700 Ex .

Templ e-M el odies of the Ancient and M odern

Worl d. Vol . I , China. Vol . II , India . Vol III,

Rome . Vol . IV, Greece . Vo l . V, Egypt, etc .

(To be continued .)

3 10 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

N EW ORLEANS, February, 1884 .

DEAR KREHBIEL, —Please don’t let my impor

tuna cyurge you to write when you have little timeand leisure . I only want to hear from you when itgives you pleasure and kills time . Never m ind ifI take a temporary notion to write every day you

know I don’t mean to be unreasonable .

Now, as I have your postal card I’ll cease the

publication of my imaginary musical library, andwill reserve that exquisite torture for some futureoccasion when I shall think you have treated me

horribly . Just so soon as this beastly weatherchanges I ’ll go to New York , and hOpe you

’ll beable say in April to give me a few days’ l oafingtime .

I ’m afraid , however, I shall have to leave my Ideasbehind me . I know I could never squeeze themunder or over the Brooklyn Bridge . Furthermore ,I ’m afraid the Elevated R . R . cars m ight run overmy Ideas and hurt them . In fact ,

’t is only in thevast swamps of the South , where the converse of thefrogs is even as the roar of a thousand waters , thatmy Ideas have room to expand .

Your banjo article delighted me , of course ,there is a great deal that is completely new to metherein . By the way, have you noticed the verycurious lookingharps of the Niam-Niams in Schweinfurth ? They seem to me rather nearly related to thebanjo in some respects . I am glad my little noteswere Of some use to you . I will take good care of the

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TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, March, 1884 .

DEAR KREHBIEL, -I was quite glad to get yourshort letter, knowing how busy you are . Johnsonchanged his mind about Havana , as the seasonthere has been very unhealthy ; and for the time beingI am disappointed in regard to the Spanish-Creolemusic. But it is only a question of a little whilewhen I shall get it . I sent you the other day someMadagascar music . You will observe it is arrangedfor men and women alternately . By the way, speaking of the refrain, I think you ought to find it scientifica l ly treated in Herbert Spencer

’s “ Sociology ;”

for in that giant summary of all human knowledge ,everything relating to the arts of life is consideredcomparatively and historically . I have not got it :indeed I could not afford so immense a series as amere work of reference , and life is too short . Butyou can easily refer to it in your public libraries .This reminds me of a curious fact I observed inreading Tylor the similarity of an Australian songto a Greek choru s at Sparta , at least , the con

struction thereof. You remember the lines , sungalternately by Ol dmen, young men , and boys

(OL D M EN ) We once were sta lwa rt youths .

(YOU N G M EN ) We a re : if thou l ikest, test our strength .

(BOYS)“We sha l l b e, and fa r better too !”

Now Tylor quotes this Australian chant

(G IRL S) K a rdang ga rro . Young-brother aga in.

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 313

(OLD WOM EN ) M anma l ga rro . Son again.

(BOTH TOGETH ER)“Mel a madjo Nunga broo.

” Herea fter I sha l lsee never .

And it is also Odd to find in Jeannest that in certain Congo tribes there is a superstition preciselylike the Scandinavian superstition about the “ hellshoon ” —a strange coincidence in view of the factthat these negroes do not allow any save the kingand the dead to wear shoes .I am happy to have discovered a new work on the

blacks Of Senegamb ia home of the Griots ; andI expect it contains some Griot music . I have sentfor it . It is quite a large volume . I am beginning tothink it would be a pity to hurry our project . Thesubject is so vast , and so many new discoveries aredaily being made , that I think we can afford to gainmaterial by waiting . I believe we can pick up agreat deal of queer African music this summer ; andI feel convinced we ought to get specimens of WestIndian Creole musicI am afraid my imagination may have outstripped

human knowledge in regard to negro physiology .

You remember my suggestion about the possibledifferentia in the vocal chords of the two races . Ifeel more than ever convinced there is a remarkabledifference . I heard a negro mother the other daycalling her child’s name a name of two syllablesElla ; —the first syllable was a low but very loudnote , the second a very high sharp one , with a fractiona l note tied to its tail ; and I don

’t believe anywhite throat could have uttered that extraordinarysound with such rapidity and flexibility . The

314 LAFCADIO HEAR N

Australian Coo-eee was nothing to it ! Well , I havebeen since studying Flower’s Hunterian Lectureson the Comparative A natomy of Man and I findthat the science Of comparative anatomy is scarcelyyet well defined what , then , can be said about theComparative Physiology of Man ? NeverthelessFlower is astonishing . He indicates extraordinaryrace-differences in the pelvic index (the shape ofthe pelvis) the length and proportion of the limbs ,etc . I have been thinking of writing to him on thesubject . Tell me , do you approve Of the idea ?I have also sent to Europe for some works on

Oriental music .

Your affectionate friend ,

Charley Johnson spent a week with me . He is thesame old Charley . We had lots of fun and talk abouto ld times . He was quite delighted with my library ;nearly every volume of which is unfamiliar to ordinary readers . I have now nearly five hundred vo l

umes— Egyptian , Assyrian , Indian , Chinese , Japanese, African , etc . , etc . Johnson seems to havebecome a rich man . The fact embarrassed me a littlebit . Somehow or other

,wealth makes a sort of

Chinese wall between friends . One is afraid to beone’s self, or even to be as friendly as one would liketoward somebody who is much better Off . You knowwhat I mean . Of course , I only speak of my privatefeelings ; for Charley was just the same to me as inthe o ld days .

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316 LAFCADIO HEARN

tends to enervate a people . There is an intimaterelation between Strength , Health , and Beauty ; theyare ethnologically interlinked in one embrace

,like

the Cha rities . I fancy the stout soldiers who followedXenophon were far better judges of physical beautythan the voluptuaries of Corinth ; the greatest ofthe exploits of Heracles was surely an amorous one .

I don’t like Bacon’s ideas about love : they should beadopted only by statesmen or others to whom it is aduty to remain pas sionless , lest some woman enticethem to destruction . Has it not sometimes occurredto you that it is only in the senescent epoch of anation’s life that love disappears ? there were nogrand loves during the enormous debauch of whichRome died , nor in all that Byzantine orgy interruptedby the lightning of Moslem swords . Again,after all , what else do we live for ephemerae thatwe are ? Who was it that called life a sudden lightbetween two darknesses ” ? “Ye know not,

” saithKrishna, in the Bhagavat-Gita,

“ either the momentof life’s beginning or the moment of its ending :only the middle may ye perceive .

” It is even so : weare ephemerae, seeking only the pleasure of a goldenmoment before passing out of the glow into thegloom .

Would not Love make a very good religion ? I doubtif mankind will ever cease to have faith in theaggregate ; but I fancy the era must come when thesuperior intelligences will ask themselves Of whatavail are the noblest heroisms and self-denials , sinceeven the constellations are surely burning out , andall forms are destined to melt back into that infinitedarkness Of death and of life which is called by so

TO W. D . O’CONNOR 317

many different names . Perhaps , too , all thosemyriads of suns are only golden swarms of ephemeraeof a larger growth and a larger day, whose movements of attraction are due to some “mad excess ofl ovef

’

The account your friend gave you of De Nerva l ’ssuicide is precisely like the details of M . de Beaulieu’s picture exposed in 185 9 and , I think, destroyed by the police for some unaccountable reason .

It is described in Gautier’s “Histoire du Romantisme ,

” pp . 14 3—4 (note) . I am glad you noticemy hand once in a while , and that you liked my DeNerval sketch and the Women of the Sword .

” Youspeak of magazine-work . I think the magazines aresimply ina borda bles . My experiences have been disheartening . Very good , very scholarly but not

the kind we want ;“Highly interesting sorry

we have no room for it I regret to say we cannot use it, but would advise you to send it to X“Deserves to be published ; but unfortunately our

rules exclude ” etc . I have an article now with theA tl antic an essay upon the A dzan, or chant ofthe muezzin ; its romantic history , etc . This hasalready been rejected by other leading magazines .Another horrible fact is that after your article isaccepted , the editor rewrites it in his own way,and then prints your name at the end of the so

created abomination . This is the plan of Iwould like to see the ideal newspaper started we usedto talk about : then we could write eh ?SO you think Doré’s Raven a failure ! I hope you

are not altogether right . I thought so when I first

3 18 LAFCADIO HEARN

looked at the plates ; but the longer I examined them ,

the more strongly they impressed me . There isghostly power in several . What do you think of

The Night’s Plutonian Shore ;” and the Home

by Horror haunted ”

? I must say that the terminalVignette with its Sphinx-death is one of the most terrible ideas I have ever seen drawn although itsforce might be augmented by larger treatment . Iwould like to see it taken up by that French artistwho painted that beautiful Flight into Egypt

,

”

where we see the Virgin and Child (in likeness of anArab wanderer with her baby) , slumbering betweenthe awful granite limbs of the monster .Your Gautier has just arrived . If you had sent mea little fortune you could not have pleased me so

much . I never saw the photo before : it not onlypleased , it excelled anticipation . You know our

preconceived ideas of places we should like to visitand people we should like to know , usually excel thereality ; but the head of Gautier seems to me granderthan I imagined . One can almost hear him speakwith that mellow , golden , organ-toned voice of hiswhich Bergera t described ; and I like that barbaricluxury of his attire , there is something at oncerich and strange about it , worthy some Khan of theGolden Horde . I really feel quite enthusiasticabout my new possession .

I am glad to hear you dislike Matthew Arnold .

He seems to me one of the colossal humbugs of thecentury : a fifth -rate poet and unutterably drearyessayist ; a sort Of philosophical hermaphrodite ,yet lacking even the grace of the androgyne , because

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320 LAFCADIO HEARN

edition will be the losers . It was to be issued in parts .Perhaps ten numbers were out . But I am not surewhether any of the engravings were printed . I basedmy error upon the critique of L el oir

’s work in L e

L ivre . It is dangerous to anticipate !I believe I have the very latest edition of W . W .

!Walt Whitman! 1882 (Rees , Welshwhi ch I like very much . You did not quite understand my allusion to the Bible . I wished to implythat it was when W . W .

’s verses approached that

biblical metre in form , etc . , that we most admiredhim . I agree with all you say about slang , es

pecia l lynautical slang ; also about the grand irregul a rityof the wave-chant . Still I ’

11 have to writesom e examples of what I refer to , and will do so later .

Yours very warm ly and gratefully ,L . HEARN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, March, 1884 .

DEAR KREHBIEL ,—Iam sorry to be in such ahurrythat I have to write a short letter ; but I must signalmy pleasure at seeing you coming out in public , andI have a vision of future greatness for you . As formyself, I trust I shall in a few years more Obtain influence enough to be able to return some of yourmany kindnesses in a literary way . Eventually wemay be able to pull together to a very bright goal , ifI can keep my health .

I think that Osgood will announce the book aboutthe l st of April , but I am not sure . It would hardly

TO H . E . K REHBIEL 321

do to anticipate . I send you his letter . The termsare not grand ; but a big improvement on Worthington’s . Next time I hope I will be able to work toorder . You can return letter when you are donewith it , as it forms a part of my enormous collectionof letters from publishers (199 rejections to 1

acceptation) .I expect I shall have to postpone my Visit until the

book i s out , as I must wait here to receive andcorrect proofs . I have dedicated the book to PageBaker, as it was entirely through his efforts that Igot a hearing from Osgood . The reader had a l readyrejected the MS . when Baker’s letter came .

From the A tl antic I have not yet heard . If I havegood luck (which is extremely improbable) I wouldmake the Muezzin No . 1 in a brief series of Arab esque studies , which would cost about two years

’

labour at intervals . I have several subjects inmind : for example , the lives of certain outrageousMoslem Saints , and a sketch of the mulatto and

quadroon slave p- oets of Arabia before Mahomet ;The Ravens ,

” as they were called from theircolor ;—also the story of the Ye monna t, or thosewho died of love . But these are beautifuldreams in embryo ! Yours affectionately ,

L . HEARN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

N EW ORLEAN S, March, 1884 .

Posta l-card.

It is related by Phil ostra tus in his life of

Apollonius of Tyana, that when Apollonius visited

322 LAFCADIO HEARN“

India,and asked the Brahm ins to give him an ex

ample Of (musical) magic , the Brahmins did stripthemselves naked and dance in a ring, each tappingthe earth with a staff, and singing a strange hymn .

Then the earth within the ring rose up,quivering

,

even as fermenting dough , and rose higher, andundulated and was lost in great waves , and eleva ted the singers unto the height of two cubits .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, April ," 1884 .

DEAR KREHBIEL , —I read your leader with nosmall interest ; and

“ the gruesome memories ” wererevived . The killing of the man in the Vine Streetsaloon , however , interested me most as a memoryreviving interest . That murderer was the mostmagnificent specimen of athletic manhood that Iever saw , I suspect he was a gipsy ; for he hadall the characteristics Of that race , and wa s not a

regu l a r circus -employee,— only a professional rider,

now with one company , now with another . D idyou see him when you were there ? He was perhaps6 feet 4 ; for his head nearly touched the top of thecell . He had a very regular handsome face , withimmense black eyes ; and an Oriental sort of profile —then he seemed slender, in spite of hisimmense force , — such was the proportion of hisfigure . A cynical devil , too . I went to see himwith the coroner , who showed him the piece Of thedead man’s skull . He took it between his fingers ,held it up to the light , handed it back to the cor

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324 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, May, 1884 .

DEAR KREHBIEL, I have been so busy that Ihave not been able to answer your last . They aresending me proofs at the rate of twenty pages aday ; and you can imagine thi s keeps me occupiedin addition to my other work . Alas ! I find thatnothing written for a newspaper at least for anAmerican newspaper— can be perfect . My poorlittle book will show some journalistic weaknesseswill contain some hasty phrases or redundancies

or something else which will m a r it . I try my bestto get it straight ; but the consequences of hastylabour are perpetually before me , notwithstandingthe fact that the collocation of the material occupiednearly two years . I am thinking of Bayard Taylor’sterrible observation about American newspaperwork . It seems to be generally true . Still therea re some who write with extraordinary precisionand correctness . I think you are one of them .

What troubles my style especially is ornamentation . An ornamental style must be perfect or fullof atrocious discords and incongruities ; and perfectornamentation requires slow artistic work exceptin the case of men like Gautier, who never re—reada page , or worried himself about a proof . But Ithink I ’

l l improve as I grow older .I won’t be away till June . Then I ’

11 have somequeer books in my satchel , and we

’11 talk the book

over . I fear it is no use to discuss it beforehand , asI shall be overwhelmed with work . Another volume

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 325

of the Talmud has come , and some books aboutmusic containing Chinese hymns . By the way , inSpencer’s last volume there is an essay on musicalorigination . I have had only time to glance at it .Your Creole music lecture cannot fail to be extremelycurious ; wish I could hea r and see it . The melodieswill certainly make a sensation if you have a goodassortment . D id you borrow anything from Gottschalk ?— I hope you did : the Bamboula used todrive the Parisians wild .

Thanks for the musical transcription . I ’mafraid the project won’t pan out , however . T riib

ner Co . of London made an ofler , but wantedme to guarantee the American sale of 100 copiesthat means pay in' advance . I would not perhapshave objected , if they had mentioned a low price ;but when I tried to get them to come down to about5 5 . per copy they did not write me any more .

Then I abandoned the pursuit of the IgnisFatuus of Success , and withdrew into the Immensities and the Eternities , even as the rhinoceroswithdraweth into the recesses of the jungle . AndI gave myself up to the meditation of the Vedasand of the Puranas and of the Upanishads , and ofthe Egyptian Ritual of the Dead , until the memoryof magazines and of publishers faded out of mymind , even as the vision of demons .

Yours very truly ,L . HEARN .

326 LAFCADIO HEARN

To w . D . O’CONNOR

NEW ORLEAN S , May, 1884 .

MY DEAR O’CONNOR, I did not get time untilto-day to drop you a line ; and just at present I amenthusiastically appreciating your observations re

garding The Foul Fiend Routine . I wish I couldescape from his brazen grip ; and nevertheless he hasdone me service . He has stifled my younger andmore foolish aspirations , and clipped the foolishwings Of my earlier ambition with the sharp scissorsof revision . It is true that I now regret my inabilityto achieve literary independence ; but had I obtaineda market for my wares in other years , I shouldcertainly have been so ashamed of them by thistime , that I should fly to some desert island . Thesemeditations follow upon the incineration of severalhundred pages of absurdities written some yearsback, and just committed to the holy purification offire .

I am not , however, sorry for writing the fantasticideas about love which you so thoroughly explodedin your letter ; they

“ drew you out ,” and I wanted

to hear your views . I suppose , however, that themad excess is indulged in by every nation at acertain period of existence perhaps the SenescentEpoch , as Draper calls it . What a curious articlemight be written upon “The Amorous Epochs ofNational Literatures ,

”

or something of that sort ;dwelling especially upon the extravagant passionateness of Indian , Persian , and Arabic belles-lettres ,and their offshoots ! Not to bore you further with

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328 LAFCADIO HEARN

only an experiment. I have a great plan in viewto popularize the legends of Islam and other strangefaiths in a series of books . My next effort will bealtogether Arabesque treating of Moslem saints

,

s ingers , and poets , and hagiographical curiositieseschewing such subjects as the pilgrimage to theriba th (monastery) of Deir-c l -Tiu in the Hedjaz ,where fragments of the broken a idana of Mahometare kissed by the faithful .I ’m sorry to say I know little of Bacon except his

Essays . Those surprised and pleased me . I startedto read them only as a study of Old English ; but soonfound the ideas far beyond the century in whichthey were penned . You will be shocked , I fear, toknow that I am terribly ignorant of classic Englishliterature , of the sixteenth , seventeenth , andeighteenth centuries . Not having studied it muchwhen at college , I now find life too short to studyit , except for style . When I want to clear mine ,as coffee 1s cleared by the white Of an egg , I

pour a little quaint English into my brain-cup , andthe Oriental extravagances are gradually precipita ted. But I think a man must devote himself toone thing in order to succeed : so I have pledged meto the worship of the Odd , the Queer, the Strange ,the Exotic , the Monstrous . It quite suits my tem

peram ent . For example , my memories of earlyRoman history have become cloudy, because theRepublic did not greatly interest me ; but very vividare my conceptions of the Augustan era, and greatmy delight with those writers who tell us howHadrian almost realiz ed that impossible dream of

TO W . D . O’CONNOR 329

modern aesthetes , the resurrection Of Greek art .The history of modern Germany and ScandinaviaI know nothing about ; but I know the Eddas andthe Sagas , and the chronicles Of the H eim skringl a ,

and the age of Vikings and Berserks , — becausethese were mighty and awesomely grand . The history of Russia pleaseth me not at all, with theexception of such extraordinary episodes as theD imitris ; but I could never forget the story of

Genghis Khan , and the nomad chiefs who ledhorsemen to battle . Enormous and lurid

facts are certainly worthy of more artistic studythan they generally receive . What De Quincey toldus in his “ Flight of a Tartar Tribe ” previouswriters thought fit to make mere mention of .But I ’m rambling again .

I don’t know whether I shall be able to go Northas I hoped I have so much private study beforeme . But I do really hope to see you some day .

Could n’t you get down to our Exposition ?D id you ever read Symonds’s “Greek Poets ” . The

final chapters on the genius of Greek a rt are simplydIVIne . I mention them because of your observationabout our being or not being ephemeral . I feelfearful we are . But Symonds says what I wouldhave liked to say , so much better, that I would liketo let him speak for me with voice of gold .

Very truly your friend.

LAFCADIO HEARN .

3 30 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S , June, 1884 .

DEAR KREHBIEL , I ’m expecting every day toget some Griot music and some queer things

,and

have discovered an essay upon just the subject ofsubjects that interests Us —the effect of physiological influences upon the history of nations

,and

“ the physiological character of races in their relation to historical events .” Would n’t it be fine ifwe could write a scientific essay on Polynesian musicin its manifestations of the physiological peculiarities of the island-races ? Nothing would give meso much pleasure as to be able some day to writea most startling and stupefying preface to sometreatise of yours upon exotic music — a prefacenevertheless strictly scientific and correct . By theway , have you any information about Eskimo music ?If you have , tell me when I see you . I havesome singular songs with a doubl e-refra in, but nomusic , — which I found in Rink . Why the devildid n’t Rink give us some melodies ?I am especially interested just now in Arabic

subjects ; but as I am following the Arabs intoIndia, I find myself studying the songs of thebayaderes . They are very strange , and sometimesvery pretty sweetly pretty . Maisonneuve prom ised to publish some of this Indian music ; but thatwas in ’

81, and we have n’t got it yet . I have found

curious titles in Triibner’s collection ; but I’m afraid

the music isn’t published Folk-Songs Of Southern

India,” etc .

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332 LAFCADIO HEARN

And here is another bit of news for you . MySenega l books have thrown a torrent of light on thewhole history of American slave-songs and superstitions and folk-lore . I was utterly astounded atthe revelation . All that had previously seemed oh

scure is now lucid as day . Of course , you knowthe slaves were chiefly drawn from the West Coa st ;

and the study of ethnography and ethnology of theWest Coast races is absolutely essential to a knowledge of Africanism in America . As yet , however ,I have but partly digested my new meal .

Siempre a V . ,

LAFCADIO HEARN .

NEW ORLEAN S, June , 1884 .

DEAR K . , Your letter has given me unspeakable pleasure . In making the acquaintance ofHowells , you have met the subtlest and noblestliterary mind in this country , scarcely exceptingthat prince of critics , Stedman ; and you have founda friend who will aid you in climbing Parnassus ,not for selfish motives , but for pure art

’s sake . Cultiva te him all you can .

I got a nice letter from Ticknor . He actuallypromises to open the magazine-gates for me . Anda curious coincidence is that the book is publishedonmy birthday , next Friday .

I will write you before I start for New York in afew weeks more .

I will bring my African books with me , and otherthings . Yours sincerely ,

LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 333

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, October 1884 .

DEAR KREHBIEL, I sit down to write you thefirst time I have had leisure to do justice to thesubject for a month .

Now I must tell you what I am doing . I have beenaway a good deal , in the Creole archipelagoes of theGulf, and will soon be Off again , to make morestudies for my little book of sketches . I sent youthe No . 2, as a sample . These I take as much painswith as with magazine work , and the plan is philosophical and pantheistic . D id you see “Torn Letters ,

”

(No . 1) about the Biscayena . The factsare not wholly true ; I was very nearly in love notquite sure whether I am not a little in love still ,but I never told her so . It is so strange to find one’sself face to face with a beauty that existed in theTertiary epoch , years ago , the beautyof the most ancient branch of humanity , the Oldestof the world’s races ! But the coasts here are just asI described them , without exaggeration , and I amso enamoured of those islands and tepid seas that Iwould like to live there forever, and realize Tennyson’s wish :

I will wed some sa vage woman; she sha ll rea r myduskyra ceIron-jointed , supple-s inewed , they sha l l d ive and they sha ll run,Ca tch the wil d goa t by the ha ir, and hurl the ir l ances in the sun,

Wh i stl e b a c li the pa rrot’s ca l l , l eap the ra inbows of the brooks ,N ot with bl inded eyesight poring over m i sera b le books .

”

The islanders found I had one claim to physicalsuperiority anyhow , I could outswim the best of

334 LAFCADIO HEARN

them with the greatest ease . And I have disciplinedmyself physically so well of late years , that I am nolonger the puny little fellow you used to know .

All this is sufli cientlyegotistical . I just wanted ,however, to tell you of my wanderings and their purpose . It was largely inspired by the new style ofPierre Loti that young marine Ofli cer who is certa inlythe most original of living French novelists .All this summer Page could not get away ; so you

will not have the pleasure of seeing my very nobleand lovable friend , a tall , fine , eagle-faced fellow ,

primitive Aryan type . I only got away on the pledgeto give the results to the T .

-D . , wh ich is giving meall possible assistance in my literary undertakings .I was gl ad to receive Creole books , as I am work

ing on Creole subjects . Several new volumes haveappeared . I have some Oriental things to send youmusic , if you will agree to return in one month

from reception . But you need not have expressedthose other things made me feel sorry . I expressed them to you for other reasons entirely .

I have a delightful Mexican friend living with me ,and teaching me to speak Spanish with that long,soft , languid South American Creole accent that is somuch more pleasant than the harsher accent of Spain .

His name is José de Jesus yPreciado , and he sendsyou his best wishes , because he says all my friendsmust be his friends too .

Now , I hope you’ll write me a pretty , kind , forgiv

ing letter, not condescendingly , but really nice ,you know what I mean .

Your supersensitive and highl y suspicious friend ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

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336 LAFCADIO HEARN

(twenty dollars per month) and my salary scarcelyenough for my extravagant way of life . Money isa subject I am beginning to think of in connectionwith everything except art . I still think nobodyshould follow an art purpose with money in View ; butif no money comes in time , it is discouraging in thisway , — that the lack Of public notice is generallysomewhat of a bad Sign . Happily , however, I havejoined a building association , which compels me topay out $20 per month . Outside of this way of

saving, I save nothing , except queer books imported from all parts of the world .

Very affectionately yours , HEARN .

TO H . E . KR EHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S January, 1885 .

M Y DEAR KREHBIEL , I fear I know nothingabout Creole music or Creole negroes . Yes , I haveseen them dance ; but they danced the Congo , andsang a purely African song to the accompaniment Ofa dry-goods box beaten with sticks or bones and adrum made by stretching a skin over a flour-barrel .That sort of accompaniment and that sort of music ,you know all about : it i s precisely similar to whata score of travellers have described . There are noharmonies —only a furious contretemps . As forthe dance , in which the women do not take theirfeet off the ground ,— it is as lascivious as is possible . The men dance very differently , like savages ,leaping in the air . I spoke of this spectacle in myshort article in the Century.

One must Visit the Creole parishes to discover the

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 337

characteristics of the real Creole music , I suspect .I would refer the Centuryto Harris

’s book : he saysthe Southern darkies don’t use the banjo . I havenever seen any play it here but Virginians or uppercountry ” darkies . The slave-songs you refer to areinfinitely more interesting than anything Cable ’sgot ; but still , I fancy his material could be workedover into something really pretty . Gottschalk foundthe theme for his Bamboula in Louisiana Quand

pa ta te est chinte, etc . , and made a miracle out of it .Now if you want any fu rther '

deta il ed account ofthe Congo dance , I can send it ; but I doubt whetheryou need it . The Creole songs , which I have heardsung in the city , are Frenchy in construction , butpossess a few African characteristics of method .

The darker the singer the more marked the odditiesof intonation . Unfortunately most of those I haveheard were quadroons or mulattoes . One blackwoman sang me a Voudoo song, which I got Cableto write but I could not sing it as she sang it , sothat the music is faulty . I suppose you have seen italready , as it forms part Of the collection . If theCenturypeople have any sense they would send youdown here for some months next spring to study upthe old ballads ; and I believe that if you manageto show Cable the importance of the result , he caneasily arrange it .You answered some of my questions charmingly .

Don’t be too sarcastic about my capacity for study .

My study is of an humble sort ; and I never knewanything, and never shall , about acoustics . But Ihave had to study awful hard in order to get a vague

338 LAFCAD IO HEARN

general idea of those sciences which can be studiedwithout mathematics , or actual experimentation withm echanIca l apparatus . I have half a mind to studymedicine in practical earnest some day .

“ Would n’tI make an imposing Doctor in the Country of Cowboys ? A doctor might also do well in Japan . I ’

m

thinking seriously about it .This is the best letter I can write for the present ,and I know it ’s not a good one . I send ' a curiosityby Xp to you .

The Creole slaves sang usually with cl apping of

hands. But it would take an old planter to givereliable information regarding the accompaniment.

Yours very truly, L . HEARN .

TO H . E . KRE HBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, 1885 .

DEAR KREHBIEL , I regret having been so

pressed for time that I was obliged to return yourMS . without a letter expressing the thanks whichyou know I feel . I scribbled in pencil which youcan erase with a bit of bread some notes on theCajan song , that may interest you .

The Harpers are giving me warm encouragement ;but advise me to remain a fixture where I am . Theysay they are looking now to the South for literarywork Of a certain sort , - that immense fields forObservation remain here wholly untilled , and thatthey want active , l iving, opportune work of a freshkind . I shall try soon my hand at fiction ; mygreat difficulty is my introspective disposition , whichleaves me in revery at moments when I ought to be

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LAFCADIO HEARN

To w . D . O’CONNOR

NEW ORLEAN S , March , 1885 .

Big P. S . No . 1 .

I forgot in my hurried letter yesterday,to tell you

that if you ever want a copy of “ Stray Leaves,

”

don’t go and buy it , as you have been naughtyenough to do , but tell me , and I

’ll send you whatyou wish . I hope to dedicate a book to you someday , when I am sure it is worth dedicating to you .

I am quite curious about you . Seems to me youmust be like your handwriting , firmly knit , large ,strong, and keen — with delicate perceptions , (ofcourse I know tha t, anyhow !) well-developed ideasof order and system , and great continuity of purposeand a disposition as level and even as the hand youwrite . If my little scraggy hand tells you anything,you ought to recognize in it a very small , erratic ,eccentric , irregular, impulsive , variable , nervousdisposition , almost exactly your antitype in everything except the love of the beautiful .

Very faithfully , L . H .

Big P. s . No . a .

I did not depend on L e F iga ro for statementsabout Hugo ; but picked them up in all directions .What think you of his refusal to aid poor blindXavier A ub ryet by writing a few l ines of preface forhis book ? What about his ignoring the servicesof his greatest champion , Theophile Gautier ?What about his studied silence in regard tothe works of the struggling poets and novelists of

M R HEARN S EAR L IER HAN DWRITIN G

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3 42 LAFCADIO HEARN

Charles Dudley Warner, whose acquaintance Imade here , strikes me as the nicest literary personage I have yet met . Gilder of the Centurywashere a handsome , kindly man . A bookwhich I recently got would interest you Sym onds

’

s

“Wine , Women , and Song .

” I had no idea that theTwelfth Century had its literary renascence , or thatin the time of the Crusades German students werewriting worthy of Horace and Anacreon . The Middle Ages no longer seem so D oresquelyblack .

Your friend ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO R E V . WAYLAND D . BALL

N EW ORLEAN S, 1885 .

M Y DEAR BALL, I regret my long silence , nowbroken with the sincere pleasure of being able tocongratulate you upon a grand success and stillgrander opportunities . The salary you are prom ised is nearly double that obtained by the bestjournalist in the country (excepting one or two menin highly responsible positions of managers) ; it farexceeds the average earnings of expert members ofthe higher professions ; and there are not manyauthors in the United States who can rely uponsuch an income . SO that you have a fine chance toaccumu l ate a nice capital , as well as ample meansto indulge scholarly tastes and large leisure togratify them . I feared , sensitive as you are , toweigh too heavily upon one point before , but Ithink I shall not hesitate to do so now . I refer

TO REV. WAYLAND D . BALL 34 3

to the question of literary effort . Again I wouldsay : Leave all profane writing alone for at leastfive years more ; and devote all your talent , study ,sense of beauty , force of utterance to your ministeria l work . You will make an impression , and beable to rise higher and higher. In the meanwhileyou will be able to mature your style , your thought ,your scholarship ; and when the proper time comesbe able also to make a sterling , good , literary effort .What we imagine new when we are young is aptreally to be very old ; and that which appears to usvery old suddenly grows youthful at a later daywith the youth of Truth’s immortality . None , except one of those genii , who appear at intervalsas broad as those elapsing in Indian myth betweenthe apparition of the Buddhas , can sit down beforethe age of thirty—five or forty, and create anythingreally great . Again the maxim ,

“Money is power,commonplace and vulgar though it be , —has

a depth you will scarcely appreciate until a later day.

It is power for good , quite as much as for evil ;and “ nothing succeeds like success , you know.

Once you occupy a great place in the great religiousworld of wealth and elegance and beauty

,you will

find yourself possessed of an influence that willenable you to realize any ambition which inspiresyou . This is the best answer I can now give toyour last request for a little friendly counsel, and itis uttered only because I feel that being older thanyou , and having been knocked considerably aboutthe world , I can venture to offer the results of mylittle experience .

34 4 LAFCADIO HEARN

As you say, you are drawing nearer to me . Iexpect we shall meet , and be glad of the meeting .

I sha ll have little to show you except books , but wewill have a splendid time for all that . MeanwhileI regret having nothing good to send you . Thestory appeared in H a rper

’s Ba za r .

Sincerely your friend ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO R EV . WAYLAND D . BALL

NEW ORLEAN S, Jul y, 1885 .

MY DEAR BALL, Your welcome letter came tome just at a happy moment when I had time toreply . I would have written before , but for a protracted illness . I am passionately fond of swimming ; and the clear waters of that Florida springseduced me into a plunge while very hot . Thewater was cold as death ; and when I got back toNew Orleans , I had the novel experience Of a Florida fever, — slow, torpid , and unconquerable byquinine . Now I am all right .The language of Stray Leaves is all my own,

with the exception of the Italic texts and a fewpages translated from the Kalewala .

” The Floridasketch I sent you , although published in a newspaper, is one of a number I have prepared for thelittle volume of impressions I told you about . Isent it as an illustration of the literary theory discussed in our previous correspondence , which I amsurprised you remember so well .Apropos of your previous letter, I must observe

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34 6 LAFCADIO HEARN

I don’t know just what to say about your literaryarticles ; but I can speak to the editor-in-chief, who ismy warm personal friend . The only difficulty wouldbe the bigotry here . Even my editorials upon Sanscritl iterature called out abuse of the paper from variousN . O . pulpits , as

“A Buddhist Newspaper,” an

Infidel sheet , etc . If published first in the Bostonpaper, I could get the lecture reproduced , I think ,in ours . If you expect remuneration you wouldhave to send the MS . first to us and take the chances .I think what you best do in the interim would beto write on the subject to Page M . Baker, EditorT.

-D . , mentioning my name , and await reply.

You asked me in a former letter a question Iforgot to answer . I have no photograph at present ,but will have some taken soon and will send you one .

Very sincerely yours ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO R EV . WAYLAND D . BALL

NEW ORLEAN S, 1885 .

DEAR BALL,—I regret extremely my long delay

in writing you due partly to travel, partly towork

,for I have considerable extra work to do for

the Harpers,and for myself . You ask me about

literary ventures . I suppose you have seen thelittle book Osgood published for me last summer“ Stray Leaves from Strange Literature ,

” a volumeof Oriental stories . Since then I have had nothingprinted except a dictionary of Creole proverbswhich could scarcely interest you , and some

TO REV. WAYLAND D . BALL 34 7

Oriental essays , which appeared in newspapersonly, but which I hope to collect and edit in permanent form next year. Meantime I am workingupon a little book of personal impressions , which Iexpect to finish this summer . Of course I will keepthe story you want for you , and mail it ; and if youhave not seen my other book I will send it you .

Your project about a correspondence is pleasantenough ; but I am now simply overwhelmed withwork

,which has been accumulating during a short

absence in Florida . In any event , however, I donot quite see how this thing could prove profitable .

I doubt Very much if Christ is not a myth, just asBuddha is . There may have been a teacher calledJesus , and there may have been a teacher Sidda rtha ;but the mythological and philosophical systemsattached to these names have a far older origin ,and represent only the evolution of human ideasfrom the simple and primitive to the complex form .

As the legend of Buddha is now known to have beenonly the development of an ancient Aryan sun-myth ,so probably the legend of Jesus might be traced tothe beliefs of primitive and pastoral humanity .

What matter creeds , myths , traditions , to you orme , who perceive in all faiths one vast truth ,— onephase of the Universal Life ? Why trouble ourselvesabout detailed comparisons while we know there isan Infinite which all thinkers are striving vainly toreach by different ways , and an Infinite invisibleOf which all things visible are but emanations ?Worlds are but dreams of God

,and evanescent ;

the galaxies of suns burn out, the heavens wither ;

3 48 LAFCADIO HEARN

even time and space are only relative ; and thecivilization of a planet but an incident of its growth .

To those who feel these things religious questionsare valueless and void of meaning , except in theirrelation to the development of ethical ideas ingeneral . And their study in this light is too largefor the compass of a busy life .

In haste , your friend ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

I read your sermon with pleasure and gave acopy to our editor-in-chief.

To w . D . O’CONNOR

NEW ORLEAN S, July, 1885 .

MY DEAR O’CONNOR, Your kind little surprise came to me while I was very ill , and , I believe ,helped me to get better ; for everything whichcheers one during an attack of swamp-fever aidsconvalescence . As you know, I made a sojournin East Florida ; and I exposed myself a good deal,in the pursuit of impressions . The wonderfulwater especially tempted me . I am a good swimmer,and always crazy to enjoy a dive , so I yielded to theseduction of Silver Spring . It was a very hot day ;but the flood was cold as the grip of O ld Death .

I did n’t feel the effect right away ; but when I gotback home found I had a fever that quinine wouldtake no effect upon . Now I am getting all right ,and will be off to the sea soon to recruit .Well , I thought I would wait to write

‘ until I

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3 5 0 LAFCADIO HEARN

vinced that I know too little to attempt anythinglike a serious volume of Oriental essays ; but myresearches have given me a larger fancy in somedirections , and new colours , which I can use hereafter . Fiction seems to be the only certain roadto the publishers’ hearts , and I shall try it , not ina lengthy , but a brief compass , striving as muchas possible after intense effects . I think you wouldlike my library if you could see it , - it is oneagglomeration of exotics and eccentricities .And you do not now write much P— do you ?I would like to have read the paper you told me of ;but I fear the M anha ttan i s dead beyond resurrec

tion — and , by the way , Richard Grant Whitehas departed to that land which is ruled by absolutesilence , and in which a law of fair play, unrecogniz ed by our publishers , doth prevail . Do younever take a vacation ? If you could visit our

Grande Isle in the healthy season , you would enjoyit so much ! An old-fashioned , drowsy , free-andeasy Creole watering-place in the Gulf, wherethere is an admirable beach , fishing extraordinary,and subjects innumerable for artistic studiesa hybrid population from all the ends of heaven,

white , yellow , red , brown , cinnamon-colour, and tintsof bronze and gold . Basques , Andalusians , Portu

guese , Malays , Chinamen , etc . I hope to makesome pen drawings there .

Have you seen the revised Old Testament ? Howmany of Our favourite and beautiful tex ts have beenmarred ! I almost prefer the oddity of Wickliffe .

And , by the way, I must tell you that

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 35 1

Palmer’s Koran is a fine book ! (“ Sacred Books of

the East , Macmillan .) Sale is now practicallyObsolete .

Hoping I will be able , one of these days , to writesomething that I can worthily dedicate to you ,

Believe meVery aflectiona te ly,

LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, October, 1885 .

DEAR KREHBIEL, I would suggest as a title forTunison

’s admirably conceived book , The Legend

of Virgil ,”

o r, better still,“The Virgilian Legend ”

(in the singular) , as it is the custom among folkloriststo assemble a class of interrelated myths or fablesunder such a general head . Thus we have “TheLegend of Mélusine , or Mere Lusine The Legendof M yrrdl ium , or Merlin ;

” “The Legend Of DonJuan although each subject represents a largenumber of myths , illustrating the evolutional historyOf one idea through centuries . This title could besupplemented by an explanatory sub-title .

Of course you can rely on me to praise , sincerelyand strongly, what I cannot but admire and honourably envy the authorship of. I wish I could evenhope to do so fine a piece of serious work as thispromises to be .

I am exceedingly grateful for your prompt sendingof the Creole songs , which I will return in a day or

two . Some Creole music of an inedited kind just

3 52 LAFCAD IO HEARN

one or two fragments I would like so as to introduce your rOl e well . I now fear, however, that Ishall not be able to devote as much time to the workas I hoped .

As for my thinkings , doings , and ambitions , Ihave nothing interesting to tell . I have accumulateda library worth $2000 ; I have studied a great deal indirections which have not yet l ed me to any definitegoal ; I have made no money by my literary outsidework worth talking about ; and I have becomeconsiderably disgusted with what I have alreadydone . But I have not yet abandoned the idea ofevolutional fiction, and find that my ethnographicand anthropologic reading has enabled me to finda totally new charm in character-analysis , and suggested artistic effects of a new and peculiar description . I dream of a novel, or a novelette, to beconstructed upon totally novel principles ; but theoutlook is not encouraging . Years of very hardwork with a problematical result ! I feel prettymuch like a scholar trying hard to graduate andfeeling tolerably uneasy about the result .Since you have more time now you might drop a

line occasionally . I hope to hear you succeed withthe Scribners ; if not , I would strongly recommendan effort with Houghton , M ifflin CO . , the mostappreciative publishers on this side of the Atlantic .

Yours very affectionately,LAFCADIO HEARN .

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35 4 LAFCADIO HEARN

doubt,which found a new utterance in the negro

myths of the South . The large work of HartmannI have never seen , and as it is partly chrom o l itho

graphed I fear it is very expensive . The names Hartmann and Engemann are very German : I know ofthe former only through French sources

,perhaps

you have seen the original . He supports some Of hisviews with quotations you are familiar with perhapsfrom C l apperton, Bowditch , and Schweinfurth .

It is rather provoking that I have not been able tofind any specimens Of Griot music referred to inFrench works on Senegal ; and I fancy the Griotmusic would strongly resemble (in its suitability toimprovisation especially) the early music of thenegroes here . Every French writer on Senegal hassomething to say about the Griots , but none seem tohave known enough music to preserve a chant . Thelast two works published (Jeannest

’s

“Au Congo ”

and Marche’s “Afrique Occidentale ” ) were writtenby men without music in their souls . The first publishes pictures of musical instruments , but no music ;and the secondgives ten lines to the subject in a volumeOf nearly 4 00 pp . Seems to me that a traveller whowas a musician might cultivate virgin soil in regardto the African music of the interior. All I can findrelating to it seems to deal with the music of SouthAfrica and the west and north coasts ; the interioris unknown musically . I expect to receive La Selvesoon , however, and if his announcement be truthful, we shall have something of interest therein re

garding the cis-Atlantic Africa.

L . H .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 3 5 5

I saw a notice in the Tribune regarding the negroPan’s pipe described by Cable . I never saw it ; butthe fact is certainly very interesting . The cane iswell adapted to inspire such manufacture .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, 1885 .

DEAR K . , Just got a letter from you . Hope myreply to your delightful suggestion was received . Ifear I write too often ; but I can only write insnatches . Were I to wait for time to write a longletter, the result would be either 0 or somethingworse .

I have already in my mind a little plan . Let mesuggest a long preface , and occasional picturesquenotes to your learning and facts . For example ,I would commence by treating the negro’s musicalpatriotism the strange history of the Griots , whofurnish so singular an example of musical prostitution , and who , although honoured and petted in oneway , are otherwise despised by their own peopleand refused the rites of burial . Then I would re

late something about the curious wanderings of

these Griots through the yellow desert northwardinto the M oghreb country - often a sol itary wandering ; their performances at Arab camps on thelong journey , when the black slaves come out tolisten and weep ; - then their hazardous Voyagingto Constantinople , where they play old Congo airsfor the great black population of Stamboul , whomno laws or force can keep within doors when the

35 6 LAFCADIO HEARN

sound of Griot music is heard in the street . ThenI would speak of how the blacks carry their musicwith them to Persia and even to mysterious Hadramaut , where their voices are held in high esteem byArab masters . Then I would touch upon thetransplantation of negro melody to the Antilles andthe two Americas , where its strangest black flowersare gathered by the alchemists of musical science ,and the perfume thereof extracted by magicianslike Gottschalk . (How is that for a beginning ?)I would divide my work into brief sections ofabout 1% pages each every division separated byRoman numerals and containing one particulargroup of facts .

I would also try to show a relation between negro

physio logy and negro music . You know the bloodof the African black has the highest human tem

pera ture known —equal to that of the swallowalthough it loses that fire in America . I would likeyou to find out for me whether the negro’s vocalcords are not c differently formed , and capable oflonger Vibration than ours . Some expert professorin physiology might tell you ; but I regret to saythe latest London works do not touch upon thenegro vocal cords , although they do show otherremarkable anatomical distinctions .

Here is the only Creole song I know of with anAfrican refrain tha t is sti l l sung : don’t show It

to C . , it is one of our treasures .

(Pronounce“Wenday,

” “m akkiyah .

Ouendé, ouende’, ma caya !M O pa s ba ra sse, ma caya !

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3 58 LAF CADIO HEARN

bird more wonderful than ours— with a voice sosonorous and solemn and far-reaching that thoseCreole negroes who dwell in the great aisles of

the forest call it 20 20 mon-

pé (l’oiseau mon—pere) ,

the “My father-bird .

” But the word father heresignifieth a spiritual father a ghostlyfather— thePriest-birdNow dream of the vast cathedral Of the woods ,

Whose sanctuary lights are the stars of heaven !L . H .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, 1885 .

DEAR KREHBIEL, You are a terribly neglectful correspondent : I have asked you nearly one

hundred questions , not a single one of which youhave ever deemed it worth while to answer . However, that makes no matter now ,

— as none of thequestions were very important , certainly not in yourestimation . I think you are right about the negroAmerican music , and that a Southern trip will beabsolutely essential , because I have never yetmet a person here able to reproduce on paper thosefractional tones we used to talk about , which lendsuch weirdness to those songs . The naked melodyrobbed of these has absolutely no national characteristic . The other day a couple of darkeys fromthe country passed my corner, singing— not aCreole song, but a plain negro ditty with a re

current burthen consisting of the cry :

Oh ! J ee-roo-sa-l e-e-em

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 3 5 9

I can’t describe to you the manner in which thesyllable l em was broken up into four tiny notes , theutterance of which did not occupy one second ,all in a very low but very powerful key . The restof the song was in a regular descending scale : theoh being very much prolonged and the other notesvery quick and sudden . Wish I could write it ; butI can’t . I think all the original negro-Creole songswere characterized by similar eccentricities . If youcould visit a Creole plantation , and I know Cablecould arrange that for you , - you would be ableto make some excellent studies .Cable told me he wanted you to treat these things

musically . I am sure, however, that his versionsof them lack something as regards rhythm (mu

sica l ) , time , and that shivering of notes into musicalsplinters which I can’t describe . I have never toldhim I thought so ; but I suggest the matter to youfor consideration . I think it would be a good ideato have a chat with him about a Southern trip inthe interest of these Creole studies . I am also surethat one must study the original Creole-ditty amongthe full-blooded French—speaking blacks of thecountry , not among the city singers ; who are toomuch civilized to retain originality . When the bamboulas were danced there was some real Congo ”

music ; but the musicians are gone God knowswhere . The results Of your Southern trip might besomething very important . There is a rage inEurope for musical folk-lore . Considering whatGottschalk did with Creole musical themes, it issurprising more attention has not been paid to the

360 LAFCADIO HEARN

ditties of the Antilles , etc . I am told there arestunning treasures of such curiosities in Cuba

,

Martinique , all the Spanish and French possessions , but especially the former . The outlook isdelightful ; but I think with you that it were best torely chiefly upon persona l study . It strikes me thething ought to be scientifically undertaken , so asto leave as little as possible for others to improveupon or even to glean . If you care for names of

French writers on African music , I can send .

D idst ever hear the music of the Zam a cueca ?

L . H .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, February, 1886.

DEAR KREHBIEL , Your very brief note wasreceived almost simultaneously with my first perusa l of your work in the Century. But the Calawoman’s song is , I really think , imaginary . I havethe real cry, six notes and some fractions ,whi ch I will send you when I get a man to write itdown . The patate-cry is less African , but verypleasing . I have been somewhat surprised to discover that the word Voudoo is not African , butthe corruption of a South—American mythologicalterm with a singul ar history — too long to writenow , but at your service whenever you may need it .Plympton has been here on his way to the W .

Indies via Florida a white shadow , a ghost , aVoice , utterly broken down . I fear his summersare numbered . He will return to his desk only to

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3 33 LAFCADIO HEARN

it would be all right . Rivington of London isanother enterprising firm in the same line .

I expect to see you this summer also to sendyou a volume of Chinese stories . Material is developing well . Won’t write again until I can tear andwrench and wring a big letter out of you .

Affectionately , L . HEARN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

N EW ORLEAN S, February, 1886.

MY DEAR MUS ICIAN , Your letter delighted me .

Strange as it may seem to you , the books and papersyou sent me , I never received !I feel a somewhat malicious joy in telling you that

the translations you considered so abominable areprinted without the leas t alteration , and also inassuring you that if you can spare time to readthem you will like them . Still , I must say that thebook is not free from errors , and that were I to doit all over again to-day , I should be able to improveupon it . It is my first effort , however , and I amtherefore a little anxious ; for to commence one

’sl iterary career with a collapse would be very bad .

I think I shall see you in New York this summer.I have a project on foot to issue a series of transl a tions of archaeological and artistic French romance- Flaubert’s “Tentation de Saint-Antoine ;

” DeN erva l

’

s“Voyage en Orient ;

” Gautier’s “Avatar ;”

Loti’s most extraordinary African and Polynesiannovels ; and Baudelaire

’s Petits Po'

ém es en Prose .

”

If I can get any encouragement , it is not impossible

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 363

that I might stay in New York awhile ; but thereis no knowing . I am working steadily toward therealization of one desire to get rid of newspaperlife .

No : I am not writing on music now only bookreviews , French and Spanish translations , and anoccasional editorial . The musical reviews of theTimes -D emocra t are the work of Jean Augustinone of the few talented Creoles here , who is the

author of a volume of French poems , and is persona l lya fine fellow . We are now Very busy writingup the Carnival . I have charge of the historicaland mythological themes , copies of which I willsend you when the paper is printed . One of thethemes will interest you as belonging to a noveland generally little known subject ; but I have onlybeen able to devote two days apiece to them (fourin all) , so you will make allowance for rough-andready work .

I am very happy to hear you are cozy, and nicelyestablished , and the father of a little one , which

'

I

feel sure must inherit physical“

and mental comelinessOf no common sort .I cannot write as I wish to-day,as Carnival dutiesare pressing . So I will only thank you for yourkindness , and conclude with a promise to do betternext time . Your friend and admirer,

L . HEARN .

By the way, would you like a copy of De l’Isere

’s

work on diseases of the voice , and the rapports

between sexual and vocal power ? I have a copy

364 LAFCADIO HEARN

for you , but you must excuse its badly batteredcondition . I have built up quite a nice library here ;and the antiquarians bring me Odd things when theyget them . This is one , but it has been abused .

L . H .

TO w . D . O’CONNOR

NEW ORLEAN S, April , 1886.

M Y DEAR O’CONNOR , Your dainty little giftwas deeply appreciated . By this mail I send you afew papers containing an editorial on the subjectrather hastily written , I much regret to say , owing topressure of other work , but calculated , I trust ,to excite interest in the nobly-written defence of

Mrs . Pott’s marvellous commentary .

I have not written you because I felt unable tointerest you in the condition I have been long instruggling between the necessities of my trade andthe aspirations of what I hope to prove my a rt. Ihave a little Chinese book on Ticknor Co .

’sstocks : if it appear you will receive it , and perhapsenjoy some pages . The volume is an attempt in thedirection I hope to make triumph some day : poetica l

prose. I send also some cuttings , - leaves for afuture volume to appear, God knows when , underthe title “Notebook of an Impressionist .” Beforecompleting it I expect to publish a novelette , whi chwill be dedicated to you , if I think it worthy ofyou . I will work at it all this summer .I may also tell you that since I last wrote a very

positive change has been effected in my opinions by

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366 LAFCADIO HEARN

in every particular . Luckily for me I found a warmerclimate , a city where literary competition was almostnothing , and men of influence who took an interestin my work, and let me have things my own way .

Rest and cultivation Of the anima l part of me, andgood care by a dear good woman, got me nearlywell again . I am stronger than I ever was in someways ; but I have not the same recuperative vitality,I cannot trust myself to any severe mental strain .

Sickness is health ,” they say , for those who have

received one of Nature’s severe corrections .I mention my own case only to show that I under

stand yours , and to give you , if possible , the benefitof my experience . Long sleep is necessary , for twoor three years . Do not be afraid to take ten , eleven ,or twelve hours when you so feel inclined . I Observethat the mind accomplishes more , and in a shortertime , after these protracted rests . Never workwhen you feel that little pain in the back of thehead . Rare beefsteaks , eggs just warmed ,and claret and water to stimulate appetite as Oftenas possible , are important . Doctors can do little ;you yourself can do a great deal . I think a fewmonths , or even weeks , at the sea , would astonishyou by the result . It did me . The abyss , out ofwhich all mundane life is said to have been evolved ,— the vast salt gulf of Creation , seems still toretain its mysterious power : the Spirit still hoversover the Face of the Deep , and the very breath ofthe ocean gives new soul to the blood .

You will already know what I think of yourbeautiful book, with all of which I heartily concur.

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 367

But do not attempt to overwork any more You

ought not to trust yourself to do more than three orfour hours’work a day , and even this applicationought to be interrupted at intervals . I take a smokeevery hour or so . The main thing pl ea se do not

doubt it is plenty of nourishment , cultivation ofappetite , and much sleep . Then Nature will rightherself slowly , though surely .

D O not write to me if it tires you . I know justhow it is ; I know also that you feel well toward meeven if you have to keep silence . I will write whenever I think I can interest you , and never fail todrop me a line if I can do anything to please youjust a line . I would not have been silent so long ,had I even suspected you were ill . My own illnessof eight years back was caused by years of nightwork 16 hours a day . Several of my old comradesdied at it . I quit— took courage to attempt a different clas s of work,and , as the French say , I havebeen able to re-make my constitution . I trust itwon’t bore you , my writing all this : I understandso exactly how you have been that I am anxious togive all the suggestions I can .

I remain , dear O’Connor ,

Very affectionately ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S May, 1886.

DEAR KREHBIEL, I think I shall soon be ableto send you a Hindoo . Yes , a Hindoo , —with

368 LAFCADIO HEARN

Orientally white teeth , the result of vegetal diet andB rahmanic abstemiousness rather prognathous

,I

am sorry to say , and not therefore of purest Aryanbreed . He may be a Thug, a Sepoy deserter, a Sikhdrummed out of the army, a Brahm in who has lostcaste , a Pariah thief, a member of the Left-handor of the Right-hand caste (or other sections toohorrible to name) , a Jain , a half-breed MongolIslamite from Delhi , a Ghoorkha , a professionalfraud , a Jesuitic convert on trial I know not ;— I send him to you with my best regard . Youare large and strong ; you can take care of yourself !I send him to the Tri bune, fearing the awfulresults of his visit to 305 West Fifty—fifth Street .How did I find him ? Well , he came one day to

our Office to protest about some of my editorials onIndian questions . I found he talked English well ,wrote with sufficient accuracy to contribute to theT .

-D . , and had been in the Indian civil service .

I questioned him on Hindoo literature : found himsomewhat familiar with the Mahabharata and R a

mayana, the Bhaghavad-Gita and the Vedantas ,heard him reiterate the names of the great Sanscritpoets and playwrights Kalidasa, Vya sa , Jayadeva ,Bha rtriha ri . He first taught me accurately to pronounce the awful title M ricchaka tika, which means“The Chariot of Baked Clay ;

” and he translatedfor me , although with great effort and very badly,one of the delicious love-lyrics of the divine Amaron .

Therefore I perceived that he knew somethingvaguely about the vast Mother of Languages .And he sang for me the chants of the temples , in

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370 LAFCADIO HEARN

(P . S . His alleged name is Sa ttee or Sutteeperhaps most probably the l a tter , as he advocatesit .)I received your book a charming volume in all

that makes a volume charming : including cleartinted paper, not too glossy ; fascinating type ; broadmargins ; tasteful binding . Thanks for dear littlephrase written in it . I will send first criticism ofcontents in shape of a review . Have something elseto talk of later.I hope you received photograph sent by Baker

through me , - and paper . The translation doesnot convey original force of style ; but it may serveto reveal something of the author’s intensity. Hispower of impressing and communicating queer sensa tions m akes him remarkable .

Affectionately,L . HEARN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S, 1886.

DEAR KR EHBIEL, I was waiting to write youin the hope of being able to send you some literarynews . I have my little Chinese book in Ticknor’shands ; but the long silence is still unbroken . Theomen is not a bad one , yet I am disappointed innot being able now, when replying to your delightful letter, to tell you everything is O . K . ,

— becausethe book is dedicated to you . There are only sixlittle stories ; but each of them cost months of hardwork and study, and represent a much higher

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 3 71

attempt than anything in the Stray Leaves . Thededication will , I think, amuse you if the bookappears , and will be more or less mysterious tothe rest Of the world . I fear now it cannot bepublished in time to reach you before you leave forEurope .

Well , dear O l d fellow , I think I must try to seeyou at New York anyhow . At all events I musthave a change . The prolonged humidity and chilliness of our winter is telling on me ; I have been considera b lypulled down in spite Of an easy life , andmust try the sea somewhere . I fear the Easternbeaches are too expensive ; but I could run North ,and spend the rest of the time allowed me aftermy visit at some Obscure fishing village . Europe , Ifear, must be given up this summer . I could visitSpain in company with a dear friend , Dr . Matas ;but I feel it a duty to myself to stick at literarywork this summer in order to efl

’ect a new depar

ture .

Now, I must tell you about it . I am writinga novelette . It wi l l require at least twelve monthsto finish —though it will be a tiny book . It willbe all divided into microscopic chapters of a pageor half-a -page each . Every one Of these is to bea little picture , with some novel features . Sometouches of evolutionary philosophy . I want to

make something altogether odd , novel , ideal in thebest sense . The theme , I fear, you will not like .The story of a somewhat improper love— a fascination developed into a sincere but vain affectionan effort to re-create what has been hopelessly

3 79. LAFCADIO HEARN

lost , — a seeking after the impossible . I am not

quite sure yet how I shall arrange the main part ;— there will be much more of suggestion than ofreal plot . I do , indeed , remember your ad

vice ; but I am not sorry not to have followed itbefore . My style was not formed ; I did not reallyknow how to work ; I am only now beginning tolearn . Ticknor writes that if I should undertakea novelette , he is certain it would succeed . SO

I shall try . In trying I must study from real materia l ; I must take models where I can find them .

Still the work will be ideal to the verge Of fantasy .

So much for that . If I have been selfish enoughto talk first about myself, it is partly because Icannot answer your question without giving someof my own experience . You ask about style ; youdeem yours unsatisfactory , and say that I overestimated it. Perhaps I may have overestimatedparticular things that with a somewhat riper judgement I would consider less enthusiastically . But Ialways perceived an uncommon excellence in thetendency of your style a purity and strength thatis uncommon and which I could never successfullyimitate . A man’s style , when fully developed , ispart of his personality . Mine is being shaped fora particular end ; yours , I think , is better adaptedto an ultimately higher purpose . The fact that youdeem it unsatisfactory shows , I fancy , that you arein a way to develop it still further . I have onlyobserved this , that it is capable of much morepolish than you have cared to bestow upon it .Mind ! I do not mean ornament —I do not think

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3 7 4 LAFCADIO H EARN

have to be kept in control ; my judgements to bereversed or amended ; my adjectives perpetuallysifted and pruned . But my work is ornamentalmy dream is poetical prose : a style unsuited toliterature of the solid and instructive kind . Haveyou ever worked much with Roget’s Thesaurus ”

it i s invaluable . Still more valuable are etym o

logical dictionaries like those of Skeat (best in theworld) , of Brachet (French) , of Dozy and Engelmann (Spanish-Arabic) . Such books give one thatsubtle sense of words to which much that sta rtl esin poetry and prose is due . Time develops thesecret merit of work thus done . These , dearK . , are simply my own experiences , ideas , andimpressions . I now think they are correct . In afew years I might modify them . They may contain useful suggestions . Our humblest friends maysuggest valuable things sometimes .Talking of change in opinions , I am really as

tonished at myself . You know what my fantasticmetaphysics were . A friend disciplined me to readHerbert Spencer . I suddenly discovered what awaste of time all my Oriental metaphysics had been .

I also discovered , for the first time , how to applythe little general knowledge I possessed . I alsolearned what an absurd thing positive skepticism is .I also found unspeakable comfort in the suddenand , for me , eternal reopening of the Great Doubt ,which renders pessimism ridiculous , and teaches anew reverence for all forms of faith . In short , fromthe day when I finished the First Principles ,

”

a totally new intellectual life opened for me ; and I

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 375

hope during the next two years to devour the restof this oceanic philosophy . But this is boring youtoo much for the nonce .

Believe me , dear friend , affectionately,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S 1886.

DEAR KREHBIEL, I must drop you another lineor two ; for you must let me hear from you againbefore you go to Europe .

I have completely recovered from the nervousshock which the sudden return of my tiny volumeproduced in spite of myself ; and all my scatteredplans are being re-crystallized . I know my work isgood in some respects ; and if it bears reading overwell , next winter I may take a notion to publish asmall edition at my own expense . In fact , I believeI will have to publish several things at my ownexpense . Even if my art-ideas are correct (andI sincerely believe they are) —in their most matureform they would represent a heterodox novelty inAmerican style , and literary heterodoxies no publ isher will touch . I am going to give up the noveletteidea , it is too large an undertaking at present ,and will try short stories . My notebooks will alwaysbe useful . Whenever I receive a new and strongimpression , even in a dream , I write it down , and

afterwards develop it at leisure . These efforts repayme well in the end .

There are impressions of blue light and gold and

376 LAFCADIO HEARN

green,correlated to o ld Spanish legend , which can

be found only south of this line . I obtained a fewin Florida ; I must complete the effect by futureVisits : therefore I shall go to the most vast andluminous of all ports known to the seamen of theSouth the Bay of the Holy Ghost (Espiritu Santo) ,— in plainer language , Tampa. SO I shall vegetatea while longer in the South . I have some $600 savedup ; but , I fear, under present circumstances , thatI would be imprudent to expend it all in a foreigntrip , and will wait until I can make some sort ofimpression with some new sort of work . The T -D .

will save expenses for me on Florida trip , and insteadof roar and rumble Of traffic and shrieking of steamand dust of microbes , I shall dream by the shoresof phosphorescent seas , and inhale the Spirit thatmoveth over the face of the Deep .

I forgot in my last to thank you for little noticein the playbill of my Gautier stories ; but you weremistaken as to their being paraphrases . They wereliteral translations , so far as I was able to make themat the time . I am sorry that they now appear full offaults : especially as I cannot get any publisher totake them away from Worthington . If I succeedsome day , I may be able to get out a more perfectedition in small neat shape . Stray Leaves ” also hasseveral hideous errors in it . I never dare now to lookat them for fear of finding something else worse thanbefore .

By the way , last year I had to muster up courageto condemn a lot of phantasmagoria to the flames .

Very affectionately, LAFCADIO .

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378 LA FCADIO HEARN

if you can’t persuade them to apply to me . I knowall about his life and manners , and I would not askany remuneration for so delightful a privilege as thatof being able to do him justice in a great paper .His address is 14 1 Rue St . Pierre , Rochefort-surMer. You might see him in Europe, perhaps .

LAFCADIO H .

TO H . E . KREHBIELN EW ORLEAN S, October , 1886.

DEAR KREHBIEL, While in hideous anxiety Iawait the decision of my future by various damnablyindependent censors , I must seize the moment of

leisure the first calm after a prolonged storm of

work to chat with you awhile , and to thank you foryour musical aid . Alden is , Of course , deliberatingover the Legend of l ’Il e D erniére f

’ Roberts Bros .are deliberating over Chinese Ghosts ;

” I am alsodeliberating about a voyage to Havana , the MysticalRose of a West Indian dawn with palms shakingtheir plumes against the crimsoning . What are youdeliberating about ? Something that I shall be crazyto read , no doubt , and will have the delight of celeb ra ting the appearance of in the editorial columns Ofthe provincial T -D . ! 0 that I were the directingspirit of some new periodical backed by twentymillion dollar publishing interests , and devotedespecially to the literary progression of the future ,the realization of a dream of poetical prose , theevolution of the Gnosticism of the New Art ! Then ,would n’

t I have lots to say about The Musician ,mymusician , and the Song of Songs that is to be !

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 379

For myown purpose now lieth naked before me ,without shame . I suppose we all have a purpose , aninvoluntary goal , to which the Supreme Ghost , unknowingly to us , directs our way ; and when we findwe have accomplished what we wished for, we alsoinvariably find that we have travelled thither by aroute very different from that which we laid out forourselves , and toward a consummation not preciselythat which we anticipated although pleasingenough . Well , you remember my ancient dream of

a poetical prose , — compositions to satisfy an oldGreek ear, like chants wrought in a huge measure,wider than the widest line of a Sanscrit composition ,and just a little irregular, like Ocean-rhythm . Ireally think I will be able to realize it at last . Andthen , what ? I really don’t know . I fancy that Ishall have produced a pleasant effect on the reader’smind , simply with pictures ; and that the secret work ,the word-work , will not be noticed for its own sake .It will be simply an eccentricity for critics ; an originality for those pleased by it— but I ’m sure it will begrateful unto the musica l ear of H . E . K . !

Now I remember promising to write about goingto New York .

Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r’T is winter . My lizard blood freezes at the

thought . In my room it is that is cold for us .New York in winter s ignifieth for such as meD issolution , eternal darkness and worms . Transformation of physical and vital forces of L . H . intothe forces of innumerable myriads of worms ! “

Andthough a man live many years , and rejoice in them

3 80 LAFCADIO HEARN

all yet let him remember the Days of Darkness ,for they shall be many !” N O :March , April , or May !But you say,

“Then it will be the same old story,and seasons will cycle , and generations pass away ,and yet he will not come .

” Yet there are symptomsof my coming : little spider-threads of literary weaving with New York are thickening . When the ropeis strong, I can make my bridge . Think of thetrouble I would have with my $1800 of books , andall my other truck . Alas ! I have an anchor !My friend Matas has returned . He tells me de

lightful things about Spanish music , and plays for me .

He also tells me much concerningCuban and Mexicanmusic . He says these have been very strongly affectedby African influence— full of contretemps . He triedto explain about the accompaniments Of H avanen

and Mexican airs having peculiar interresem b l ancesof a seemingly da rk origin the bass goes all thetime something like Si , M i , Si , si , mi , si . Seeme — see that ’s how I remembered it . But he hasgiven me addresses , and I will be able to procurespecimens .

Affectionately ,LAFCADIO .

To w . D . O’CONNOR

NEW ORLEAN S, February, 1887 .

DEAR O’CONNOR,Please , if feeling free enough

from other and more important labours , write to me ,let me have a few lines from you telling me howyou are , and how the years pass .

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382 LAFCADIO HEARN

and the World-Ghost , all blue , promises inspiration .

Could we not celebrate the Blue Ghost ’s pentecosttogether Affectionately,

LAFCADIO HEARN.

To w . D . O’CONNOR

NEW ORLEAN S March , 1887 .

DEAR O’CONNOR , I was sincerely pained tohear of your illness ; and reading your long, kind ,affectionate letter, felt that I had , without intendingit, strained your generosity by causing you to writeso much while ill . Not that your letter was wanting in any of those splendid and unique qualitieswhich , I think , make you unrivalled as a letterwriter ; but that , having been once severely shockedby overwork myself, I am fully aware how much itcosts to write a long letter when the nervous systemflags . In sending you this tiny book, I only desireto amuse you in leisure moments when you mightfeel inclined to read it ; don’t think I want youto write me about it ; for if you were to write againbefore you get quite strong you would pain meI find I will have to go to the West Indies by way

of New York ; at first I intended to go throughlower Florida, and take a steamer at Key West forHavana . But I would have to change vessels somany times , I thought it best to get a New Yorksteamer for Trinidad . In Trinidad I can see SouthAmerican flora in all their splendour ; in Jamaicaand , especially, Martinique , I can get good chancesto study those Creole types which are so closely allied

TO W . D . O’CONNOR 383

to our own . I want to finish a tiny volume Of notesof travel Impressionist-work, always keepingto my dream of a poetica l prose.

But I feel you will have to make some new departure in your own work at Washington : so terrible a mill as they have there for grinding minds ,frightens me ! I used to think Government positl ons were facile to fill , and exacted less than or

dina ryprofessions in private life . I see such is notthe case ; and I hope you will be prudent , and notreturn to the same exacting duties again enemigo

reconci l iado, enemigo dobl ado . My own sad experi

ence at journalistic work, which broke me down , didme great good : it rendered it out of the questionever to put myself in a similar situation , and insteadof the old loss of liberty I found leisure to study,to dream a little , to conceive an ambition whichI now hope to fulfil in the course of a few years , ifI live . Out of the misfortune , good came to me ;and I notice that Nature is really very kind when weobey her ; she gives back more than she takesaway, she lessens energies to increase mental powersof assimilation ; she compels recognition , like theGod of Job who maketh silence in the high places ,

”

and after having taught us what we cannot do , thenreturns to us a hundredfold that which she firsttook away . This is just what she will do for you ;and I even hope the day will come when you willfeel quite glad that you did overwork yourself alittle, because the result turned the splendid streamof your mind into a broader channel of daily action ,not confined within boundaries of hewn stone, but

384 LAFCADIO ' HEARN

shadowed by odorous woods , and swept by freewinds

,and changing under the pressure Of the will

current .I want you to feel full of cheer and faith in this

dear Nature of ours , who is certain to make youstrong and lucky , if you don’t go back to thathorrid brain—mill in the Capital .I will write you a little while I am gone , if I can

find a little strange bit of tropical colour to spread onthe paper, like the fine jewel-dust of scintillantmoth-wings .Believe me , with sincerest wishes and regards ,

Affectionately,LAFCADIO HEARN.

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

N EW ORLEAN S, 1887 .

DEAR KREHBIEL, Your letter contained a cutting truth , This is not a country to dream in ;but to get rich or go to the poorhouse . Still, Ogolden-haired musician , is it not a crime to stiflethe aspirations toward the beautiful which striveto burn upon the altar of every generous heart ?Why not aim to kindle the holy fire , in spite of harshrealities and rains of D isappointment ?If you have written any pretty things recently let

me see a copy soon as possible .

Don’t forget me altogether. It will be best toaddress me at post-office .

A gentleman lent me a bundle of Creole musicyesterday . I could not copy it ; the writing was too

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386 LAFCADIO HEARN

first published in Bourgault-D ucoudray’s Souvenirs

d’une mission musicale en Grece ;” I took mine

from M e’

lusine . The dance is very peculiar,and

is supposed to have been danced in antique timesat the festival of Neptune or Poseidon . The womenform a chain , by so interlacing their hands thatacross each woman’s breast the hands of those on

either side of her are clasped . The dancers moveforward and retreat in file , - as if pulling nets .

Ancient tomb-paintings show it was known in earlyRoman times also ; might not the music be as O l das the dance , as old as Phidias anyhow ?I suppose this is absurd , but wish it was n

’t .

TO H . E . KREHBIEL

NEW ORLEAN S 1887 .

DEAR KREHBIEL , Excuses for silence betweenus are , I fancy , recognized as unnecessary , sincethey always have a good cause . I read with admiration and pleasure the fine critiques you were kindenough to send me ; and I verily believe that youwill be r ecognized sooner or later, if you are notalready , a s the best musical critic in the UnitedStates . Of course , I

’m talking now on a subject I

know little about ; yet , if there be any superior toyou , I am sure it is only that , being much older thanyou , they may have had a generation longer of opportunities for study .

My little book is advancing ; and I am now faceto face with what I recognize as one of the mostawful situations in life , the criticism of the proof

TO H . E . KREHBIEL 387

reader . I don’t mean the commonplace proofreader, who is a mere printer ; but the terriblescholar who supervises proofs for a leading class ofpublishers , such as the man of the University orRiverside Press , who knows all rules of grammar,all laws of form , all the weaknesses Of writers ,and whose frightful suggestions are often simplycrushing ! What you have - spent a month in makinga beauty-blossom of style , may suddenly fade intoworthless dust at one touch of his terrific pencil ,making the simple hook-mark I can imagine Ihear a voice asking : Do you desire to make a foolof yourself by having this line in print ?” Andthen the after-thoughts , the premature hurryingaway of proofs , the frantic rush to the telegraphoffice to have them returned or corrected , thehumble letters of apology for trouble given , theyells of anguish in bed at night when I think tomyself,

“ Oh ! what a d— d ass I have been !” Ihave beennow three times in front of this awful man ,and like the angels he is without wrath and whollywithout pity .

Your query about an opera- subject which suggested my lines about R a byah , also inspired me tomake the story a poetical sketch in my best style ,which I sent to H a rper

’s Ba za r ; and perhaps , when

you read it , you will think again more favourablyabout the theme . I am going one Of these days tomake a study on the romance of R abyah

’s court

ship and marriage , which is very pretty in the rendering of the old Arabian chronicles . I understandexactly what you want ; but not having any accu

388 LAFCAD IO HEARN

rate idea of stage-necessities and theatrical exigencies , I fear you must always remain the one to

determine the worth of any operatic suggestionpossible to make . Now , for example , I can

’t understand why R a byah

’s death could not be mounted,

etc . You will like the colour of my sketch forthe Ba za r , to which I gave the title of

“R abyah

’s

Last Ride . I have adopted the Arabic names,in

preference to Lyall’s or Muir’s , unpronounceable atsight . It seems to me that you can devise a splendid piece Of gloomy beauty from the “ Kalewala .

I am going to the West Indies as soon as my bookis out . It will be a tiny 16mo , with Chinese figures .Believe me always your warmest friend ,

LAFCADIO .

I made a mistake in writing you about Hindolaand K ab it ; they represent poetical measures , or

styles of chant , not instruments . See how mymemory failed me .

TO ELIZABETH E ISLAND

NEW ORLEAN S, 1887 .

DEAR MISS BISL A N D , More than two weeksbefore receiving your most welcome letter, I wroteto Messrs . Roberts Bros . of Boston to send you , assoon as published , a copy of

“ Chinese Ghosts ,”

which will appear in a few weeks . It opens with thestory of the Bell — the legend of the Great Bellof Pekin , or Pe-King ,

and you will also find init the “ Legend of the Tea-Plant z” both in better

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90 LAFCADIO HEARN

interesting to one who feels so generous a sympathywith my work . I am trying to find the Orient at home

,

— to apply the same methods of poetical-prose treatment to modern local and living themes . The secondattempt , in form of a novelette , is nearly ready . Thesubject of the whole is one which you love as muchas I , Louisiana Gulf- life .

Yes , indeed , I remember the Baboo ! with hisprognathic profile , and his Yaksha sa smile . Iremember him especially , perhaps , because I firstlearned in his presence that your eyes were grey ,instead of black . I sent the Baboo to Krehbiel with a letter last summer ; taking care , however

,to warn my friend against the ways of the

Phansigars . Really the Baboo was an uncannyfellow ; and the mysterious fact of his dischargefrom the British Civil Service impressed me assuspicious .I think you are really lucky to be able to see and

hear a Brahmin , and to find the East at your righthand . A tm ans and m antra s , and the skandha s , andthe Days and Nights Of Him with the unutterablename , and the mystic syllable Aum ! Enough tosuggest all the rest ,— light , warmth , sounds , and thesplendour Of nights in which fountain-jets of songdo bubble up from the rich flood of flower-odours .

Perhaps I shall be able to see the Brahmin ;I hope to be in New York early in May . I do

not know whether I shall behold you — you will bethere , as here , a blossom dangerous to approach byreason of the unspeakable multitude of bees !I have always wondered at your pluck in going

TO ELIZABETH E ISLAND 3 91

boldly into the mouth of that most merciless of allmonsters a Metropolis of the first dimension ,and at your success in the face of very serious ditficu l ties of the competitive sort . Let me hope youwill feel always confident , as I do , that you are goingto do more . You have one very remarkable andpowerful faculty , that o f creating an impression ,that remains , with a very few words . It shows itselfin little things for example, your few lines aboutthe composite photos . Do you still write verse ?A little volume of poetry by you is something I hopeto see one of these days . The only thing I used to beafraid of regarding you was that you might lack therare yet terribly necessary gift of waiting . And yet ,there is something very unique in your literary tem

peram ent ; you are able to reach an effect at onceand directly which others would Obtain only by longeffort . 'Ii you like anything I have done , it is becauseI have taken horrible pains with it . E ight months’

work on one sketch ; then eight months on anothernot yet finished ; but happily 120 pages are done ;

and the first was only 7 5 . The attem pt at romanticwork on modern themes taught me lots of things .One is , that the purpose , as well as the thought , mustevolve itself, but the thought must come first ;then the thing begins to develop and always ina different way from that at first intended . AlsoI found that the importance of noting down impressions , introspective or otherwise , and expandingthem at leisure , is simply enormous . Perhaps youknow all this already , if not , try it and get apretty surprise .

392 LAFCADIO HEARN

I have one thing more to chat about ; I amtrying to get all my friends to read Herbert Spencer—beginning with First Principles . Slow reading

,

but invaluable ; systematizes all one’s knowledge

and plans and ideas . I We made three converts .The only way to read him is by paragraphs all ofwhich are numbered . I am now wrestling with thetwo big volumes of B iology ,

” and have digested oneof the Sociology . The Psychology ” I will touchlast , though it is his mightiest work . Four years’study,at least , for me to complete the reading . But “ FirstPrinciples ” contain the digest of all ; — the othervolumes are merely corollaries . When one has readSpencer, one has digested the most nutritious portiono f all human knowledge . Also the style is worth thelabour, puissant , compact , and melodious .Believe me always with many thanks for kind

letter,Your friend and literary brother,

LAFCADIO HEARN .

Twice commenced , it is time this ramblingdocument should finish . But I forgot to tell youC . D . Warner is here stops at No . 13 Rampart .He called once at my rooms , seated himself amongthe papers , dust , bad pictures , and general desolation ; and went away, leaving his card upon thevalise (long-extemporized into a desk) . I did notsee him ! He never called again .

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3 94 LAFCADIO HEARN

on the Colour—Sense . I am an Evolutionist , and asthorough a disciple of Spencer as it is possible forone not a practical scientist to be ; and such studies ,combined with art and poetry, with which theyserve in my case to stimulate and illustrate andexpand , are my delight . I like your criticism on

Grant Allen,too . In his Physiological ZEsthetics ,

”

as well as in Common-Sense in Science and variousother volumes , he has occasionally made singularlywild divergences from the perfectly smooth pathhe professes to travel — tumbled into imaginativethickets , lost himself in romantic groves . Still he is ,as you observe , more than interesting sometimes ;delightful , suggestive , skilled in giving a charminghomeliness and familiarity to new truths vast asthe sky .

The pamphlet on retinal insensibility I have notyet read through ; and I fear some parts of it willprove too technical for me . But its larger conclusions and elucidations impress me already sufficientlyto tell me that a more complete grasp of it will morethan please and surprise .

My novelette is complete and in a publisher’shands . When you read the first part , whether in theM aga z ine o r in book form , I think you will findmuch of what you have said regarding the ZE stheticSymbolism of Colour therein expressed , intuitively,especially regarding the holiness of the sky-colour,the divinity of Blue . Blue is the World-Soul .

With grateful regards ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO GEORGE M . GOULD 395

TO GEORGE M . GOULD

NEW ORLEAN S, 1887 .

DEAR M R . GOULD , Reading your letter, I wasstrongly impressed by the Sim il a ritv in thought,inspiration , range , even chirography , with the lettersof a very dear friend , almost a brother, and also aphysician , though probably less mature than youin many ways . A greater psychological resemblanceI have never observed . My friend is very young ,but already somewhat eminent here ; he has beendemonstrator of anatomy for some years at ourUniversity , and will ultimately , I am sure , turn outa great name in American medicine . But he is aSpaniard , Rodolfo Matas . I first felt really curious about him after having visited him to Obtainsome material for a fantastic anatom ical dreamsketch , and asked where I could find good information regarding the lives and legends of the greatArabian physicians . When he ran Off a long stringof names , giving the specialties of each man , andcriticizing his work , I was considerably surprised ;and even felt a little skeptical until I got hold ofLeclerc and Sprengel and found the facts there asgiven to me by word of mouth . I trust you will meethim some day , and find in him an ideal confrere,which I am sure he would find in you . It is a singular fact that most of my tried friends have beenphysicians .You asked me about Gautier . I have read and

possess nearly all his works ; and before I was reallymature enough for such an undertaking I translated

393 LAFCADIO HEARN

his six most remarkable short stories : Une Nuitde Cleopatre ;

” “ La Morte Amoureuse ;“Arria

Marcella ;” Le Pied de Momie ;

” “Le Roi Candaule ; and which were published byR .Worthington under the title of the opening story

,

One of Cleopatra’s Nights .” The work contains,

I regret to say, several shocking errors ; and thepublisher refused me the right to correct the plates .The book remains one of the sins of my literaryyouth ; but I am sure my judgement of the valueof the stories was correct , and if ever able I shall tryto get out a new and correct edition . Of SainteBeuve I have read very little found him silver-grey .

Most of the Romantic school I have . If you likeGautier, how much more would you like the workof Ju l ienViaud (Pierre Loti) . We know each otherby l etter . Read “Le Roman d’un Spahi ” first ;I think it will astonish you . Then Le Mariage deLoti then “Fleurs d’

Ennui .” All his work, which

has already won , even for so young a man , the highest encomium of the Academy , and the Vite l prize , i sextraordinary ; but my dislike Of grey skies , fogs andice , causes me to find less pleasure in “Mon FrereYves

,

” and “Pécheur d’Isl ande ,

” though there aresuperb tropical pages scattered through the latter .I send you a little Arabian story , which I wrote

for H a rper’s Ba z a r last winter, and which I will

reproduce some day in another shape , if I live tocomplete my Arabian plan . Perhaps you are familiar with the legend .

You will be glad to hear my novelette has beenpurchased by the M aga zine. So that I may ulti

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393 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO GE ORGE M . GOULD

NEW ORLEAN S 1887

In reply to nearly all the questions about mynear-sightedness , I might answer,

“Yes . Had thebest advice in London . Observe all the rules yousuggest . Glasses strain the eye too much — partof retina is gone . Other eye destroyed by a blowat college ; or rather by inflammation consequentupon blow . Can tell you more about myself whenI see you , but the result will be more curious thanpleasing . Myopia is not aggravating .

I knew you were going to have thorough success ;— you will do far better than you think . Wish Ihad the opportunity to study medicine , or rather,the ability to be a good physician . Ah ! to have aprofession is to be rich , to have international currentmoney , a gold that is cosmopolitan , passes everywhere . Then I think I would never settle down inany place ; would visit all , wander about as long asI could . There is such a delightful pleasantness aboutthe first relations with people in strange placesbefore you have made any rival , excited any illwill , incurred anybody

’s displeasure . Stay longenough in any one place and the illusion is over :you have to sift this society through the meshes ofyour nerves , and find perhaps one good friendshiptoo large to pass through . To be a physician , anarchitect , an engineer, anything that makes onecapable of supplying to a universal or cosmopolitanwant , is a great capital . Next to this , a goodtradesman is worthy of envy : he may feel as much at

TO GEORGE M . GOULD 399

home in Valparaiso as in New York ; in Bangkokas in Paris .Apropos of a medical novel, again , have you

had occasion to remark the fact that among theFrench , every startling discovery in medicine orthose sciences akin to medicine , is almost immedia te lypopularized by a capital story ? The best ofthose I have seen appeared in the R evue Pol itiqueet L ittéra ire and in the R evue des D eux M ondes .

The evolution of electricity by the human bodysuggested a powerful but very Frenchy sketch inthe former some years ago , which appeared concom itantly with those theatrical exhibitions of afamous “ electrical woman .

” Then there was onedealing with the super-refinement of the five senses ,part icularly Vis ion and smell , entitled UnFou .

”

The researches of Charcot and others into hypnotism and its phenomena , doubtless suggested UneTresse Blonde ” in the R evue des D euce M ondes .

It is always a safe and encouraging thing totrace one’s ancestral history , supposing one be Veryphilosophical . In your case it is . A fine physicaland mental man can feel sure from the mere factof his comparative superiority that he has something to thank his ancestors for . But suppose theman be small , puny , sickly, scrofulous , — thequestion of ancestry becomes unpleasant . We arefar ahead of Tristram Shandy , nowadays ; the inferiority of the homunculus is no mere matter ofaccident o r interruption . How depressing someknowledge is , and how little philosophy betters thesituation some discoveries bring about . Take such

LAFCADIO HEARN

an example as this : a nice, sweet girl , full of

physical attractiveness , grace, freshness , with a del icious disposition , fascinates you , you think of

marriage . Somebody tells you the mother andgrandmother both went mad . How much Of achange in your admiration is produced by thissimple fact . I saw this feeling put into practice .

A Southern planter splendid man ! was askedfor his daughter’s hand by a gentleman of theneighbourhood , whose grandfather had committeda terrible crime . The young man was wealthy, a ccomplished , steady , brave , had the best of reputations and was liked by the girl . The father refusedhim frankly for the simple reason that he had inhis veins some of the blood of a great criminal .It must have struck you , if you have studied

Buddhism— (not“ esoteric Buddhism ,

” which isdamnable charlatanism !) — how the tenets of thatgreat faith are convertible into scientific truths inthe transforming crucible of the new philosophy .

The consequence of the crime or the sacrifice inthe forming of the future personality ; the heightsattainable by discipline , of indifference to externalthings ; the duty and holiness of the extinction of

the Self ; the monstrous allegory of the physicalmetempsychosis , which is the shadow of a trem en

dous truth ; the supreme Buddha-hood which is themelting into the infinite life , light , knowledge , andthe peace of the immensities : science gives an harmonious commentary upon all these , which it re

fuses to the more barbarous faith of the Occident .All that is noble in the Christianity, too much

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403 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO GEORGE M . GOULD

NEW ORLEAN S, 1887 .

DEAR MR . GOULD , I posted a letter,thanking

you for two treatises so kindly sent , just beforereceiving your note . Be sure that I will find it nosmall pleasure to have a chat with a brotherthinker

,if I find myself in Philadelphia this summer .

T o the best of my recollection the book you speakof is a small, thin volume which only pretends tobe a synopsis of the most gigantic of existing epicsthe Mahabharata excepted . There are three

complete translations Of the colossal Ramayana :The Italian version of Gorres io , I think in ten vols . ;the French prose one by Hippolyte Fauche in nine ,which I have read ; and the exceedingly tiresomeEnglish trans lation (now 0 . P .) by Griffiths , inPopish verse . It was , I think , on this last thatThe Iliad of the East was based a very poor

eflort , artistically .

These epics are simply inexhaustible mines of

folk-lore and legend , — like the Katha-sarit-Sagara .

But one gets cloyed soon . It requires the patienceof a Ta lmudist to work in these huge masses toget out a diamond or two . But diamonds there are .

You know that mighty pantheistic hymn , the“Bh aga vad

—Gita, is but a little fragment of theMahabharata ; also the story of Nala, so beautifully translated by Monier Williams , Arnold , andthe wonderful dead Hindoo girl , Toru Dutt , whowrote English and French as well as Hindustaniand Sanscrit , made also some exquisite renderings .

TO ELIZABETH BISL AN D 4 03

All you could wish for in this direction has notindeed been done ; but it will take a hundred yearsto do it .I am only a dilettante , not a linguist ; and I only

try to familiarize myself with the aspect of a nationa l Idea as manifested in these epics . Some dayI shall try to offer the public a little volume dealing with the Old Arabic spirit pre—Islamic andpost—Islamic . The poetry of the desert is Homeric .

And I don’t know but that for pure na tura l poetry ,the great Finnish Kalewala is not more wonderfulthan the Indian epics . When I made my briefrenderings from the French edition of 184 5 , I wasnot familiar with the completion of the work bythe labours of L oennrot .

Pardon long letter. You and I may have a goodchance to talk these things over later on .

Very cordially yours ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO ELIZABETH E ISLAND

N EW ORLEAN S, 1887 .

DEAR MISS BISL A N D , At the tim e your letterreached me , the few proofs sent had been givenaway ;— I have not many friends , of course , butI did not have many proofs either . The best I cantherefore do is to send original photo . This is takinga liberty , I suppose , to send what was n

’t asked for ;but it is the best I can do , and you can pitch it awayif you don’t want it .My novelette is done , and I am waiting to hear

4 04 LAFCADIO HEARN

of its fate before starting . I am sure you will likeit,and recognize a good deal of the scenery . I do

not know how long I shall stay in New York ;I might only stay a very short time , but quite longenough to see you once , for a little while .

.Then

again I might take a notion to stay in the Northdon’t really know what I shall do .

What would be nice , if one could manage it ,would be to live in the country , or in some vastwilderness

,and ship one’s work away . But I fear

that will only be possible when I have becomeAncient as the Moon , if I should ever becomeancient .

Very truly ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

P . S . I met no more Hindoos here , but I metsome other singular beings .My last pet was a Chinese doctor, whose name I

cannot pronounce . He tried to teach me Chinese ;but I discovered nasal tones almost impossible toimitate , snarling sounds like the malevolent outcries of contending cats . “ Gha ! — ho -lha !Koum Yada ! Gha ! ghwang hwa !— yow sum !

”

Under the placid na i vete of a baby, my Chinesetutor concealed a marvellous comprehension ofhuman motives and of human m eannesses . HeObserved like a judge , and smiled always always ,with the eternal , half-compassionate , half-divinesmile of the images of Fo .

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4 03 LAFCADIO HEARN

kind , that I don’t know how to thank you . What

bothers me about it are the following points1 . If the collection is a large one , seems to me that

each department should be entrusted to a specialist . Japanese armourers-work alone demands that .You know what Damascus-steel means in literaryand scientific research ; and the Japanese artisanssurpassed the world in such work . Then porcelains ,lacquers , inlaid work, pictured books , goldsmithery ,etc . I know nothing about these things .2. The Japanese expert may have simply con

fined himself to titles , dates , names ; or havemade explanatory text a s fitting and dry as possible .

If he has , I don’t see how a unique catalogue could

be made . The only way it could be made , I imagine ,would be to make explanatory text picturesque andrich in anecdote ; which would require immensereading , and purchase of many expensive books onthe subject of art and history De Rosny , Gonse ,Metchnikoff, etc . Oriental art is one of the thingsI can never afford to study . It costs too muchthe luxury of a rich dilettante .

3 . Seems to me such a work would require atleast s ix m onths to do at all , a whole year to do well .Don’t think I could afford to do it . I cannot writeor read at night . If it were simply a question Oftranslation and arrangement , it would be donesoon ; and I would need only a few technical andart treatises , some of which I already have .

I need rest and change a while , not that I feelsick , but the continual fight with malaria leaves a

TO H. E . KREHBIEL 4 07

fellow’s nerves terribly slack , like the over-strainedchords of a well, better leave the rest of thesimile to you . . I don’t know whether the.

Ghosts ” walk ; but I have been told it did me muchgood in Boston literary circles . The publishersvoluntarily made a 5—years’— 10 per cent— contractwith me ; but I have not heard from them . Noticeswere very contradictory outside of New York andBoston . Some said the stories were literal transl a tions ; others said they were fabrications , withoutany Chinese basis ; others said the book wa s obscene ;others called it “ exquisitely spiritual ,

” in short ,the critics did n’t seem to know what to make of it .Three lines in the A tl antic consoled me amply fornaughty Western criticism .

You may expect to hear definitely from me verysoon, at latest , I suppose , ten days .

Affectionately,L . HEARN .

Have you any idea how big a catalogue it oughtto b e ? —if 100 , 200 , 300 pp . 16mo ? Would itbe indexed generally , or by departments , duplexor single ? Five pp . a day on such a job would bework . Then rewriting at rate of 10 pp . per day .

All supposing that no research or elaborated treatment of incident were required , only descriptionand explanation .

I ’ve had to open envelope to ask another question : Does he want the catalogue written in F rench ?Because if he does , I would n

’t attempt it . No one

but a Frenchman, or some rare men like Rossetti

4 03 L AFCADIO HEARN

and Swinburne can write artistic French . I can’twrite French with delicacy and correctness .Or does he simply want bad French turned into

good English ?My experience is this . Translation except for

an artistic motive , and with ample leisure neverpays

,either in self-satisfaction or anything else .

Cataloguing, pure and simple , is the most terribleand tiresome of earthly labours ; first notebookand eyes ; then arrangement of amplified notes by“ a’s ” and then enveloping or boxing, and

p-a sting , then rewriting ; then , 0 God! the proofs !I know how to do it , but it is so much l ife thrown

away so much thought-time made sterile . Inthis case the chief compensation would be oppor

tunity to study the phases of Japanese art , theesprit.

.TO ELIZABETH BISL A N D

NEW YORK , 1887 .

DEAR MISS BISL A N D , A small creature rangthe bell at 136 Madison Avenue . A large and determ ined concierge responded, and the followingconverse ensuedS . C .

“Miss Bis l andC . N o , sir !

”

S . C . Miss E -liz-a -beth Bis l andN O , sir !

”

Isn’t this 136 Madison Avenue ?Yes . Used to live here .

—Moved .

D O you not know where

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4 10 LAFCADIO HEARN

Very large mass of MS . prepared , and don’tyet know

what I am going to do with it : it is not polished as Ishould wish , but I hope to work it into proper shapein a few days more . It consists simply of a detailedaccount of impressions , sensations , colours , etc . Ihave tried to put the whole feel ing of the trip on

paper . Then I have about $60 worth of photos toillustrate it . My photo set is very complete ; Ihave also a r1ch collection of Coolie and half-breedtypes , including many nude studies .Strange as you may think it , this trip knocks the

poetry out of me ! The imagination is not stimulated ,but paralyzed by the satiation of all its aspirationsand the realization of its wildest dreams , The artistic sense is numbed by the display of colours whichno artist could paint ; and the philosophical sense islulled to inactivity by the perpetual current of novelimpressions , by the continual stream of unfamiliarsensory experiences . Concentration of mind isimpossible .

It pleases me, however, to have procured materialfor stories , which I can write up at home ; and forromantic material the West Indies Offer an unpa r

a l l e l ed field of research . I shall return to them againat my earliest opportunity ; the ground is a b so

l utelyuntilled , and it is not in the least likely thatanybody in the shape of a Creole is ever going totill it .By this time you will have seen the doll . I want to

rem ind you that this is more than a doll ; it is reallyan artistic model of the dress worn by the women ofMartinique

,big earrings and all . The real ca r

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4 13 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO ELIZABETH E ISLAND

GEORGE TOWN , DEM ERARA, Jul y, 1887 .

DEAR MISS BISL A N D , I suppose you will havejust a tiny little bit of curiosity to know about myimpressions here ? They have been all flavoured withthat enchanting sensation which artists term sur

prise. The effect upon me has been such that Ithink the North will always look torpid to me

,as

a benumbed and livid part of our planet . Nearlyall these isles are volcanic ; and this largely accountsfor the green and purple symmetry of their shapes .The colours are of the kind called impossible '

”

—and the days have such an azure expansion , soenormous a luminosity that it does not really seemto be our sky above , but the heaven of some largerworld .

That ’s all I can attempt to say about it now (in

a general way) without wearying you .

Imagine old NewOrleans , the dear quaint part of it ,young and idealized as a master-artist might idealizeit , made all tropical , with narrower and brighterstreets , all climbing up the side Of a volcanic peak toa tropical forest , or descending in terraces of steps tothe sea ;— fancy our Creole courts filled with giantmangoes and columnar palms (a hundred feet inheight sometimes) ; and everything painted in brightcolours , and everybody in a costume of more thanOriental picturesqueness ; and astonishments of

half-breed beauty ;— and a grand tepid wind en

vel oping the city in one perpetual perfumed caress ,fancy all this , and you may have a faint idea of

TO ELIZABETH BISLAN D 4 13

the sweetest , queerest , da r l ingest little city in theAntilles : Sa int-Pierre, Martinique . I hope it will bemy residence for the next two months , and for thelatter part Of my wretched little existence . I love itas if it were a humanbeing .

Outside are queer little French Islands , with queernames M a rie Ga l ante is rather an O ld appellationfor an island , full of Cytherean suggestion .

We leave this very fantastic and unhealthy landnow smitten with Gold-fever as well as other maladies to-morrow . Then will come Trinidad , withits Hindoo Villages to see . Photos , bought at Demerara and St . Kitts , predict visions of Indian graceworth daring the perpendicular sun to see . I amnow the only passenger . My last companion afine Northwestern man— goes , I fear, to leave hisbones in the bush . From the interior men are beingcarried back to the coast to die, yet the stream pourson to the gold-mines . Myminer thinks he can standit : he has dug for African gold , under a fiercer sky .

He was an odd fellow . Saw no beauty in theseislands . “NO , partner if you want to see scenerysee the Rockies : that ’s something to look at ! Eventhe sea ’s afraid of them mountains , —ran awayfrom them : you can see four thousand feet up wherethe sea tried to climb before it got scared !”

Sometimes the apes on board are taught the ex

periences of life , the advantages Of civilization .

Torpedoes are tied to their tails ; fire-crackerssurround them with circles of crepitation and flame .

Also they are occasionally paralyz ed by unexpectedsensations of electricity ; they have made the a c

4 14 LAFCADIO HEARN

quaintance of a galvanic battery ; they have beeninduced to do foolish things which resulted in sharpand unfamiliar pains and burnings . Their lives areastonishments , and prolonged spasms of terror .The sea at night is an awful and magnificent sight .

It looks infernal , Acherontic ; black surges thatbreak into star-spray ; - an abyss full of movinglights that come and go .

Well , I can’t write a good letter now - wait till

I get back to Martinique . I wanted you to knowI had not forgotten my promise to write . You mustmake a trip down here some day . It is not hotterthan New York except in the sun .

You cando wha tever you wish . You have force todo it . You have more brains in your finger-tips thansome who have managed to get a big reputation .

The little talk about Grande Isle that night was anabsolute poem , gave me a sense of the charm of

the place such as I fe l t the first beautiful morningthere . You don’t know what you can do , if youwant to .

I think I should do something with this novelmaterial , it is so rich in absurd colour ! But I don

’tfeel enthusiastic now . Enthusiasm has been numbedby a long series of violent sensations and unexpectedexperiences . I have artistic indigestion ; going totry to dream it away at divine , paradisaical Martinique . There I will write you again . My addresswill be , care American Consul . But you must n

’twrite unless you have plenty of time ; I am onlypaying my debts , not trying to make you waste paperanswering me .

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4 13 LAFCADIO H EARN

Indian gods , while waiting for the S ilversmith tosit down before his ridiculous little anvil . All thepalm- shadows , intensely black, crawled outside liketarantulas ; it was a glowing day, blindingly blue :the light of a larger sun seemed to fill the world ,a white sun , Sirius !“Ra !” called out the Coolie smith when I told

him I wanted to look at hi s j ewelry ; and hiswife came in . She wore the Hindoo garb withoutthe long veils : a white robe like a Greek chiton , orrather like a lady’s chemise , —leaving the armsand ankles bare , and confined about the waist .I thought her very lovely , slender and delicate ,

- a perfect bronze-colour : the gold-flower attachedto the nostril did not impair the symmetry of theface ; extraordinary eyes and teeth . She held outher pretty round arms for examination : there wereabout ten silver rings upon each : the two outerones being round , the inner eight being flat . Thearm was infinitely prettier than the bracelets ;I selected one ring , and the smith opened and re

moved it with an iron instrument and gave it me .

It had a faint musky Odour : perhaps that was whythe smith insisted on putting it into an absurdlysmall furnace , and purifying it after the Indianmanner .I wanted to buy a pair of baby bracelets ; so

they brought in the baby , a girl , and thereforehaving a dress on . The little babies of the

other sex wear nothing but circles of silver on arms’

and ankles . Sometimes the custom is extended ; forthe little wife who carried her girl baby to the

TO ELIZABETH E ISLAND 4 17

post-Office when I was at Demerara , carried it nakedat her hip in the most primitive manner .This Trinidad baby had absurdly large eyes ,

looked supernatural : the mother’s eyes magnified .

She held up her little arms and I chose two rings .Then she talked to me in— Creole patois ! It isthe commercial dialect of the poor ; and the Hindooslearn it well . Always truly,

LAFCADIO HEARN .

There are palms here over 200 feet high . Thereare fish h ere of all the colours of marsh-sunset .

TO ELIZABETH BISLA N D

FORT DE FRAN CE, MARTIN IQUE , Jul y, 1887 .

DEAR MISS BISL A N D , Imagine yourself turnedinto marble, all white, robed after the fashion ofthe D irectory, standing forever on a marble pedestal , under an enormous azure day, encircled bya ring of tall palms , graceful as Creole women,and gazing always , always , over the summer sea,toward emerald Trois Islets .That is J osephine ! I think she looks just like

you ,“Mamzelle Josephine ,

” or Zefine , if you like .I want to tell you a little story about her, just

a little anecdote somebody told me on the street ,which I want to develop into a sketch next week .

It was after the fall of the Second Empire ,after France felt the iron heel of Germany uponher throat .Far off in this delicious little Martinique , the

4 13 LAFCADIO HEARN

Republican rage m ade itself felt ; the huge reaction passed over the ocean like a magnetic current . So it happened , in a little while, that theMartinique politicians resolved to do that whichhad already been done in France , to obliteratethe memories of the Empire .

There was Mamzelle Zefine , pa r ex empl e !

They put a rope round her beautiful white neck.

They prepared to destroy the statue .

Then Somebody rang the Church-bell (youought to see the sleepy little church : it makes youwant to doze the moment you pass into its coolshadow) . A vast crowd gathered in the Savane .

It was a crowd of women , mostly women whohad been slaves , -quadroons , m u l a ttoesses ; thehouse-servants , the bonnes , the nurses and housekeepers of the Old days . (You could form no possible idea of this coloured Creole element withoutseeing it : it does not exist in New Orleans . ) Theygathered to defend Mamzelle Zefine .

When the Republican officials came with theirworkmen at sunrise , Mamzelle Zefine was stillgazing toward Trois Islets ; she was white as ever ;her pure cold passionate face just as lovely : sheseemed totally indifferent to what was about tohappen , she was dream ing her eternal plaintivedream .

But she could well afford to feel indifferent !About her, under the circle of the palms , surgeda living sea , a tide of angry yellow faces , abovewhich flashed the lightning of cane-knives , axes ,coutea ux de boucher . Ah ! li vieu !— laches ! ca

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420 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO ELIZABETH E ISLAND

NEW YORK 1887.

DEAR MISS BISL A N D , Thanks for the graciouslittle letter . I wish I could see you , and see otherfriends ; but fate forbids . D istances are too enormous ; engagements imperative ; preparations forcoming journey made my head whirl . For I returnto the tropics , dear Miss Bis l and, probably forever : I imagine that civilization will behold me nomore , except as a visitor at very long intervals . Iwould like to write you sometimes , praying onlythat my letters be not ever shown unto newspaper

people . You will hear from me soon again . I amOff on Friday afternoon , and have not even thenecessary time to do what I ought to do in themere matter Of exceedingly small purchases , out

fits , etc .

Good-bye, with best regards and something alittle more , too .

LAFCADIO HEARN .

I have not seen Krehbiel at all , was out of

town when I returned , and seems to have foundno time afterwards .

TO ELIZABETH E ISLAND

NEW YORK , 1887 .

Your letter reached me just at a time when everything that had seemed solid was breaking up, andsubstance had become Shadow . It made me very

GEORGE M. GOULD 421

foolish ,— made me cry . Your rebuke for the trivialphrase in my letter was very beautiful as well asvery richly deserved . But I don’t think it is a question of volition . It is necessary to obey the impulses of the Unknown for Art’s sake or rather,you must obey them . The Spahi’s fascination bythe invisible Forces was purely physical . I thinkI am right in going : perhaps I am wrong in thinkingof making the tropics a home . Probably it willbe the same thing over again : impulse and chancecompelling another change .

The carriage — no , the New York hack andhackman (no romance or sentimentality aboutthese !) is waiting to take me to Pier 4 9 , EastRiver . So I must end . But I have written such aridiculous letter that I shan’t put anybody’s nameto it .

TO GEORGE M . GOULD

SAIN T-PIERR E, MAR TIN IQUE , May, 1888.

DEAR GOULD , One of your letters , I think a‘P . Cd . , many months ago , caught me in BritishGuiana , another to-day finds me here . I left N . O .

in June , 1887 , and have been travelling since , or atleast sojourning in these tropics . I have been sick ,too , — have had some trouble fighting the influences of climate , trouble in trying to carry out largeplans with absurdly small resources ; and have beenunable to do my friends justice . How could youthink I could have been oflended? It was only theother day , in a letter to the editor of H a rper

’s , that

I referred to one of your delightful colour-theories .

4 22 LAFCADIO HEARN

Praise from you I value very highly . As to impress such a mind as yours means to me a great prideand pleasure . I am delighted “Chita ” pleased you .

I have written a number of sketches on theWest Indies , - some of which may appear in a fewmonths , others later on . It has been a hope of

mine to make a unique book on these strangeHesperides , with their singularly mixed races ; butI don’t know whether I shall be able to carry theproject out.

The climate is antagonistic to work . It is a b enumbing power, rendering concentrated thoughtalmost out of the question . I can now understandwhy the tropics have produced so little literature .

We are quarantined and isolated for the presentby a long epidemic of small-pox , which amongthese populations means something as fatal as anOriental plague . The whites are exempt . But thedisease , although on the decline , still prevails to anextent rendering it doubtful when I can get awayfrom here .

I would like much to hear from you when youhave time . I am temporarily settled here , andeverything goes well enough now, so that I canwrite regularly . With best affection ,

LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO GEORGE M . GOULD

GRAN D AN SE, MAR TIN IQU E, June , 1888.

DEAR D R . GOULD ,— I am writing you from

an obscure , pretty West Indian village, seldom

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424 LAFCADIO HEARN

cease to wish to do aught contrary to her local lawsand customs . Slowly, you begin to lose all affectionfor the great Northern nurse that taught you tothink , to work , to aspire . Then , after a while, thisnude , warm , savage, amorous Southern Nature succeeds in persuading you that labour and effort andpurpose are foolish things , that life is very sweetwithout them ; and you actually find yourselfready to confess that the aspirations and inspirations born of the struggle for life in the North areall madness , that they wasted years which mighthave been delightfully dozed away in land wherethe air is always warm , the sea always the colourof sapphire , the woods perpetually green as theplumage of a green parrot .I must confess I have had some such experiences .

It appears to me impossible to resign myself to livingagain in a great city and in a cold climate . Of courseI shall have to return to the States for a while,a short while, probably ; but I do not think I willever settle there . I am apt to become tired of places ,

or at least of the disagreeable facts attaching moreor less to all places and becoming more and moremarked and unendurable the longer one stays .SO that ultimately I am sure to wander off somewhere else . You can comprehend how one becomestired of the very stones Of a place ,— the odours ,the colours , the shapes of Shadows , and tint of itssky ; — and how small irritations become colossaland crushing by years of repetition ; yet perhapsyou will not comprehend that one can actually b ecome weary of a whole system of l ife , of civilization ,

TO GEORGE M . GOULD 4 25

even with very limited experience . Such is exactlymy present feeling, an unutterable weariness ofthe aggressive characteristics of existence in a highlyorganized society . The higher the social development , the sharper the struggle . One feels this especia l ly in America , in the nervous centres of theworld’s activity . One feels at least , I imagine, inthe tropics , where it is such an effort just to live ,that one has no force left for the effort to expandone’s own individuality at the cost of another’s .I clearly perceive that a man enamoured of thetropics has but two things to do z— TO abandonintellectual work , or to conquer the fascination of

Nature . Which I will do will depend upon necessity. I would remain in this zone if I could maintain a certain position here ; —to keep it requiresmeans . I can earn only by writing , and yet if Iremain a few years more , I will have become (perhaps unable to write . So if I am to live in thetropics , as I would like to do , I must earn the meansfor it in very short order .I gave up journalism altogether after leaving

N . O . I went to Demerara and visited the lesserWest Indies in July and August of last year,returned to New York after three months with someM S. ,

—sold it , — felt very unhappy at the ideaof staying in New York , where I had good offers ,suddenly made up my mind to go back to the tropicsby the very same steamer that had brought me .

I had no commission , resolved to trust to magazinework . So far I have just been able to scrape along ;the climate numbs mental life, and the inspira

4 26 LAFCADIO HEARN

tions I hoped for won’t come . The real— surpassing imagination whelms the ideal out of

sight and hearing . The world is young here,

not O ld and wise and grey as in the North ; and one

must not seek the Holy Ghost in it . I suspect thatthe material furnished by the tropics can only beutilized in a Northern atmosphere . We will talkabout it together ; for I will certainly call on you inPhiladelphia some day .

I would not hesitate , if I were you , to begin them a gnum opu s ; the only time to hesitate would bewhen it is a l l complete , before giving to the printer .Then one may perhaps commune with one’s selfto advantage upon the question of what might begained or lost by waiting for more knowledgethrough fresh expansions of science . But the trueway to attempt an enduring work is to begin it asa duty , without considering one

’s self in the matterat all , but the subject only , which you love moreand more the longer you caress it , and find it takingform and colour and beauty with the patient years .I am horribly ignorant about scientific matters ;

but sometimes the encouragement of a laymanmakes the success of the prelate .

Now , replying to your question about Chita .

Chita ” was founded on the fact of a child savedfrom the Lost Island disaster by some Louisianafisher—folk , and brought up by them . Years aftera Creole hunter recognized her, and reported herwhereabouts to relatives . These, who were rich ,determined to bring her up as young ladies arebrought up in the South , and had her sent to a con

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428 LAFCADIO HEARN

TO GEORGE M . GOULD

SAIN T-PIERRE, MARTIN IQU E, August, 1888.

DEAR GOULD , Many thanks for the quid!

the surprising quid. I have been waiting to sendyou the quo,which I do not like so well as one takenin New Orleans , of which I have no copy withinreach . But before I tell you anything about the

quo, I ought to scold you for your startling deception . I pictured you as a much younger man thanmyself although quite conscious of meeting an inte l l igence much more virile and penetrating thanmy own, and with an experience of life larger : thisdid not , however, astonish me ; for whatever qualities I have lie only in that one direction whichpleased you and won your friendship , moreover ,I had met several much younger men than myself,my mental superiors in every respect . But , all ofa sudden you come upon me with such a revelationof your personality as makes me half afraid of you .

I perceive that your envergure is much larger thanI imagined : I mean , of course , the mental spreadof-wing ; and then your advice and suggestions ,while manifesting your ability to teach me muchin my own line , resemble only those proffered byOld experienced masters in literary guidance . Itis exactly the advice of Alden , among one or twoothers .Now about the quo . I am about five feet threeinches high , and weigh about 13 7 pounds in goodhealth ; fever has had me down to 126 . Nothingphthisical, 36i inches round the chest , stripped .

TO GEORGE M . GOULD 29

Was born in June (27th) , 185 0 , in Santa Maura

(the antique Leucadia) , of a Greek mother . Myfather, Dr . Charles Bush Hearn , who spent mostof his life in India , was surgeon-major of the 76thBritish regiment (now merged in West RidingBattalion) . Do not know anything about mymother, whether alive Or dead ; was last heard of

(remarried) in Smyrna, about 1858—9 . My fatherdied on his return from India . There was a queerromance in the history of my father’s marriage .

It is not , however, of the sort to interest you ina letter . I am very near-sighted , have lost one eye ,which disfigures me considerably ; and my nearsightedness always prevented the gratification of

a natural penchant for physical exercise . I am agood swimmer ; that is all .Your advice about story-writing is capital ; I am

not so sure about your suggestion of plot . I cannotbelieve in View of the extraordinary changes

(changes involving even the whole osseous structure)wrought in the Offspring -of Europeans or foreignerswithin a single generation by the tropical climatethat anything of the parental moral character on thefa ther’s side would survive with force sufficient toproduce the psychical phenomena you speak Of. Intemperate climates these do survive astonishingly,even through generations ; in the tropics , Naturemoulds every new being a t once into perfect accordwith environment , or else destroys it . The idea

you speak of occurred to me also ; it was abandonedafter a careful study of tropical conditions . It couldonly be used on an inverse plot , transporting the

4 30 LAFCADIO HEARN

tropical child to the North . At least , I think so ,

with my present knowledge on the subject ,which might be vastly improved , no doubtAbout story-wr iting, dear friend , you ought to

know I would like to be able to do nothing else .But even in these countries , where life is so cheap ,I could not make the pot or as they call it here ,the cana ri boil by story-writing until I gain moreliterary success , and can Obtain high prices . A storytakes at least ten or twelve months to write , that is ,a story of the length of “ Chita .

” Suppose it bringsonly $5 00 , half as much as you will soon be ableto Obtain for a single Operation ! It is pretty hard tolive even in the tropics on that sum . I must writesketches too . They do me other good also , involveresearch I might otherwise neglect . I have preparedsome twelve sketches in all , which obligated investi

ga tion that will prove invaluable for a forthcomingnovelette .

I like your firm , strong , sonorous letter , betterthan anything of the sort I ever received . The onlything I did not relish in it was the suggestion thatI should prepare a lecture , or make an appearancebefore a private club . I would not do it for anything !I shrink from real life, however, not at all because Iam pessimistic . It is a very beautiful world : theugliness of some humanity only exists as the shadowing that outlines the View ; the nobility of man andthe goodness of woman can only be felt by those whoknow the possibilities of degradation and corruption .

Philosophically I am simply a follower of Spencer,whose m ind gives me the greatest conception of

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4 32 LAFCADIO HEARN

analysis . But what does James want ? evolutionto leap a thousand years ? What he classes assensual perceptions must be sensitized and refinedsupernally, —fully evolved and built up before themoral ones , of which they are the physiologicalfoundations , pedestals . Granting the doubt as tothe ultimate nature of Mind , it is still tolerablypositive that its development so far as man isconcerned follows the development of the nervoussystem ; and that very sensuousness which at oncedelights and scandalizes James , rather seems to mea splendid augury of the higher sensitiveness tocome , in some future age Of writers and poets ,the finer “

sensibi l ityof sou l , whose creative workwill caress the nobler emotions more delicately thanLoti’s genius ever caressed the senses of colour andform and odour .You ask about my idea of Whitman ? I have not

patience for him , not as for Emerson . Enormoussuggestiveness in both , rather than clear utterance .

I used to like John Weiss better than Emerson .

Then there is a shagginess , an uncouthness , aCa l ib anishness about Whitman that repels . Hemakes me think of some gigantic dumb being thatsees things , and wants to make others see them , andcannot for want of a finer means of expression thanNature gives him . But there "

is manifest the rudenobility of the man , the primitive and patriarchalsoul-feeling to men and the world . Wh itman lays aCyclopean foundation onwhich , I fancy , some wonderfu l architect will yet build up some marvellousthing . Yes , there is nonsense in Swinburne,

TO GEORGE M . GOULD 4 33

but he is merely a melodist and colourist . He enlarges the English tongue, shows its richness ,unsuspected flexibility, admirable sponge-power ofbeauty-absorption . He is not to be despised by thestudent .Let me pray you not to make mention of anything

written to you thus , even incidentally, to newspaperfolk or to any literary folk who would not beintim a te friends . There are reasons , more thanpersonal , for this suggestion, acceptance of whichwould remove any check on frankness .

Best love to you , fromLAFCADIO HEARN .

Speaking of Whitman, I must add that my idea Ofhim is not consciously stable . It has changed withinsome years . What I like, however, was not Whitmanexactly , rather the perception of something Whitman feels , and disappoints by his attempted expression of .After closing letter I remember you wanted to

know about illustrations in magazine . They areafter photos . I am sorry to say incorrect use hasbeen made of several : the types published as Sa cra trawere not Sa cra tra , but in two cases half-breed Coolie ,one seemingly of Southern India , showing a touch

of Malay . There were other errors . It is horriblenot to be able to correct one’s own work, onaccount of irregularities in mail involved by quarantine . In the December number you will see astudy of a peculiar class of young girls here . If youwant , yourself, to have some particular photo of

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som e particular thing, send word , and I will try toget it for you .

I can only work here of mornings . Nobody dreamsof eating before noon : all rise with the sun . After2 P.M . , the heat and weight of the air make thinkingimpossible . Your head gets heavy, as if there waslead in it , and you sleep .

TO GEORGE M . GOULD

SAINT-PIERRE, M ARTIN IQU E,October, 1888.

DEAR FRIEND GOULD , I have read yourdelightful letter, also , the delightful essays of

James you so kindly sent me . I suspect James hasnot his equal as a literary chemist : the analyses ofhis French contemporary, Lemaitre , are far lessqualitative . You have made me know him as acritic ; I had only known him as a novelist .My work has been poor ; it has been condensed andrecondensed for the magazine till all originality hasbeen taken out of it ; finally I never had a chance torevise it in proof. I believe I have temporarily lostall creative power : it will come back to me , perhaps ,when I inhale some Northern ozone .

I would like to call your attention to the articleby Loti in F ortnightlyR eview UnR éve ,

” a delicious little psychological phenomenon. Have youseen Madame Chrysanthemum wonderfullyillustratedAre you perfectly, positively sure there is really

a sharp distinction between moral and physicalsensibilities ? I doubt it . I suspect what we term

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4 36 LAFCADIO HEARN

I imagine the reverse to be the case . By the superrefinem ent of the earlier sensations comes the ca

pa cityfor the“ higher sentiments .” It is true that

moral standards are very O l d, but those existinga re also very defective . Evolutionally , egotismmust precede altruism altruism itself being onlya sort of double reflex action of egotism . All thisis very badly written ; but you can catch the ideaI am trying to express .When you think of tropical Nature as cruel and

splendid , like a leopard , I fancy the Orient , whichis tropical largely , dominates the idea . Humanityhas a great beauty in these tropics , a great charm ,

that of childishness , and the goodness of childishness . As for the mysterious Nature , which isthe soul of the land , it was understood by the ancientMexicans , whose goddess of flowers , Coa tl icue , wasrobed in a robe of serpents interwoven . She is richin death as in life , this Nature , and lavish of both .

I would love her ; but I fear she is an enemy of themind , a hater of mental effort .N O , indeed , I did not laugh at your experiences .

I have had nearly as multiform ; but mine"

were lesssuccessful , I was less fitted for them . I have notyour advantages , nor capacities . I never learnedGerman . It is only in America such careers arepossible . I wish I could have finished like you , asa physician ; for I hold , that with the modern development of medicine as an enormous interb ranchingsystem of science and philosophy , the physician isthe only perfect man , mentally . Like those oldArabian physicians who afl’ected to treat the soul,

TO GEORGE M . GOULD 4 37

the modern knows the mind , the reason of actions ,the source of impulses , which must make himthe most generous Of men to the faults of others .I don’t like your plot for a medical novel at all .

It involves ugliness . I believe in Theophile Gautier’s idea of art , study only the beautiful ; createonly ideals , therefore . You are not a realist , I amsure . Then your plot is too thin. It has not the b ea utynor depth Of that simple narrative about a famouspainter, or writer, I forget which , whose im agina tion rendered it impossible for him to completehis medical studies . Shapes impressed themselvesupon his brain as on the brain of an artist : vividlyto painfulness . He was in love , engaged to bemarried ; under the peach flesh and behind theVelvet gaze , he always saw the outlined skull , theempty darkness of void orbits . He had to abandonmedicine for art . A Very powerful short sketchm ight be made of this fa ct.I believe in a medical novel , a wonderful

medical novel . We must chat about it . Why notuse a fantastic element , anticipate discoverieshoped for, anticipate them so powerfully as tomake the reader believe you are enunciatingrealitiesYour objection to my idea is quite correct . I

have already abandoned it . It would have to besexual . Never could you find in the tropics thatmagnificent type of womanhood , which , in theNew England girl , makes one afraid even to thinkabout sex, while absolutely adoring the personality .

Perfect natures inspire the love that is a fear. I

4 38 LAFCADIO HEARN

don’t think any love is noble without it . The tropicalwoman inspires a love that is half a compassion ;this is always dangerous , untrustworthy , delusivepregnant with future pains innumerable .

I don’t know why you hold the work of Spencer,etc . , more colourless than those of the other philosophers and scientists whom you have studiedall except beastly Hegel : there is an awful poetryto me in the revelation of which these men are themouthpieces , as much vaster than the Old thoughtsas the foam of suns in the via l a ctea is vaster than thespume Of a wave on the sea-beach . Wallace I knowonly as a traveller and naturalist ; is it the sameWallace ? I am very fond of him too : he is veryhuman, fraternal : he is not like God the Father asSpencer is . I suppose what we need is God theHoly Ghost . He is not yet come .

Flower, who wrote that interesting little bookFashion in Deformity and many other excel lentthings , could find some good texts here . I am convinced now that most of our fashions are deformities ; that grace is savage , or must be savage inorder to be perfect ; that man was never made towear shoes ; that in order to comprehend antiquity ,the secret of Greek art , one must know the tropicsa little (so much has fashion invaded the rest Of theworld) , and that the question of more or less libertyin the sex relation is like the tariff question oneof localities and conditions , scarcely to be broughtunder a general rule .

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4 4 0 LAFCADIO HEARN

I hope you are not too patriotic to think you cannotdo better with a scientific suggestion abroad thanat home . There are certain things that seem tome too worthy to remain buried in the archives ofa medical society, which ought to reach a largerscientific circle through a more eclectic medium

,

such as that of the superb foreign reviews,devoted

to what used to be called natural history , but forwhich the term has long ago become too small .Still I am sure you must have heard from yourpaper on the homing instinct if the publication inwhich it appeared reached the quarters it ought tohave reached .

I don’t know what to tel l you about myself. SinceOctober last I have been buried in my room— facing , happily , a semi-circle Of Mornes curving awayinto a sea like lapis lazuli— and have neither heardnor seen anything else . We had an epidemic of

yellow fever which carried away many Europeansand strangers ; but it is over, and the weather isdelightful , if you can call weather delightful whichkeeps you drenched in perspiration from morning tonight , and forces you to lie down and sleep in theafternoon if you dare attempt to write or read . Thedifficulty of work in such a climate only those whohave had the experience can understand . I thinkmy case is an experiment ; almost a phenomenon ,and I am very curious to know the result by theverdict upon my work . I cannot judge it myselfhere . What at sundown seems good in the morningappears damnably bad ; and I was obliged to giveevery page a test of three or four days’waiting . My

TO GEORGE M . GOULD 4 4 1

novelette made itself out of an incident related to meabout a case of heroism during a great negro revolt .There is no question but that I shall be in New

York this summer, for a while . It is imperative .

I have to oversee work before it can be published ;— that which already appeared was in terribly badshape on account of my not having seen the proofs .Then I may be getting out a little book .

D id you see the incident in regard to the admissionof a remarkable young lady doctor into the professionby the faculty of Paris , — the remarks of Charcotand others I thought of your medical novel . Therewere some remarks very suggestive made The

thesis of the candidate was the position and duty ofwoman as a physician . You know what those Frenchare , and what peculiar ways they have of looking atthe question of women as physicians ; - the Parispapers made all kinds of observa tions sca breuses ;

but the dignity of the girl carried her splendidlythrough the ordeal an ordeal to which Americanswoul d never put a female student .I have a curious compilation , Etudes pa tho l o

giques et historiques sur l ’origine et la propagationde la Fievre Jaune ” —perhaps you know italready , by Dr . Cornil l ia c of Martinique . If youdo not know it I will send it you from New York . Itcontains a great deal of valuable matter regarding theclimate of the West Indies, and formative influencesof that climate on races and temperament . Martinique has had several physicians of colonial celebrity , how great I cannot estimate , being ignorantof their comparative value ; but some of them have a

4 42 LAFCADIO HEARN

decided charm as writers and historians . Such wasR ufz de Lavison , author of a delightful history of thecolony , and a work upon the trigonocepha lus , whichwould not bear equal praise , I fancy . If you wantany information about medical matters in Martinique , I will hunt it up for you .

I hope to see you and have a great chat with you .

But the heat is great , and there is an accumulation ofletters to answer, and you will forgive me for sayingfor the moment good-bye .

Your sincere friend ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO GEORGE M . GOULD

SAINF PIE‘

RR E , MARTIN IQUE ,

April , 1889 .

DEAR GOULD , I read your pamphlets with intense pleasure : that on the effect of reflex neurosis ,of course , impressed me only as a curious research ;but your paper on dreams , full of truth and suggestivebeauty , had much more than a scientific interest forme . There is a world of poetical ideas and romanticpsychology evoked by its perusal . I wonder onlythat you did not dwell more upon the softness , sweetness , impalpable goodness of this dream-world inwhich everything even what we usually thinkwrong— seems to be right . Doubtless all man’sdreams of paradise , of a golden past age , or a perfectfuture , were born of the thin light vanishing sensations of dream . The work of Gautier cited by you“Avatar ” was my first translation from theFrench . I never could find a publisher for it , how

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4 4 4 LAFCADIO HEARN

no sense left . This city drives me crazy , or , if youprefer, crazier ; and I have no peace of mind or restof body till I get out of it . Nobody can find anybody, nothing seems to be anywhere , everythingseems to be mathematics and geometry and enigm a tics and riddles and confusion worse confounded :architecture and mechanics run mad . One has tolive by intuition and move by steam . I think anearthquake might produce some improvement . Theso -called improvements in civilization have apparently resulted in making it impossible to see , hear, orfind anything out . You are improving yourselvesout of the natural world . I want to get back amongthe monkeys and the parrots , under a Violet skyamong green peaks and an eternally lilac and lukewarm sea, where clothing is superfluous and reading too much of an exertion , where everybodysleeps 14 hours out of the 24 . This is frightful ,nightmarish , devilish ! Civilization is a hideousthing . Blessed is savagery ! Surely a palm 200 feethigh is a finer thing in the natural order than seventytimes seven New Yorks . I came in by one door asyou went out at the other. Now there are cubicmiles of cut granite and iron fury between us . Ishall at once find a hackman to take me away . I amsorry not to see you but since you live in hell whatcan I do ? I will try to find you again this summer.

Best affection,L . H.

TO ELIZABETH E ISLAND 4 4 5

To ELIZABETH BISLA ND

PHILADELPHIA, 1889 .

DEAR MISS BISLA N D , A week ago in New YorkI was asking a friend where you were , but could thenObtain no satisfactory information without takingsteps I had no time to attempt . I was really glad toget out of the frightful whirl and roar of modernimprovements as soon as possible , but regretted notseeing you , even while assured of being able to do sobefore long .

It is true I have been silent with my friends : I didnot write seven letters in seventeen months noteven business letters . It was very difficult to writeanything in the continuous enervating heat ; and Ihad to struggle with difficulties of the most unlookedfor sort , incessantly, until I found correspondencebecome almost impossible . But I thought of youvery often ; and wondered if you were still in thatterrible metropolis . I saw in Max O ’

R e l l’s book

some lines about a charming young lady and thoughtit must have been you . I returned on the 8thfrom Martinique .

Dr . Matas sent me your pretty eulogy of Chita— which I often re-read afterward , and which gaveme encouragement when I began to doubt whetherI could do anything else . I don’t think I shallwrite another story in the same manner, feel Ihave changed very much in my way of looking atthings and of writing .

“ Chita ” will soon be sent toyou in book form as a souvenir of Grande Isle : it isnot as short a story as it looked in the serried type of

4 4 6 LAFCAD IO HEARN

H a rper’s will m ake a volume of 225 pp . I will

have something else to send you , however, that willinterest you more as to novelty, a volume of

tropical sketches .I wonder whetheryou could ever throw upon paper

the thoughts you uttered to me that evening I visited

you nearly two years ago , when you said whyyouliked Grande Isle . In your few phrases you saidmuch that I had been trying to express and could not ,at least it so seemed to me . I have seen a

great many strange beaches since ; but nothing likethe morning charm of Grande Isle ever revealeditself. I wonder if I were to see it now, whether Ishould feel the same pleasure .

Thanks for those verses ! there Is a large , strong ,strange beauty in them . There seems , you know ,

to be just now a straining-up of eyes to look for somesinger able to prophesy , to chant even one hymnof that cosmic faith that is stealing upon the world .

Affectionately your friend ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO ELIZABETH E ISLAND

PHILADELPHIA , 1889 .

DEAR MISS BISLA N D , Oh ! what a stiff epistle ,with a little sharp pointing of reproach twistingabout in the tail of every letter ! Reall y you mustnever, never feel vexed at anything I write ! Iwrote you just as I wrote to Mr . Stedman about thesame matter. I feel the man sometimes is muchless than the work : my work, however weak, is so

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4 48 LAFCADIO HEARN

Sub rosa , now ! My Martinique novelettecomes out - the first part in January . I thinkyou will like it better than “

Chita z” it is more

mature and more exotic by far . It will run throughtwo numbers . They have made some illustrationswhich I have not seen, and am therefore afraid of.Unless an illustration either reflects precisely or

surpasses the writer’s imagination , it hurts ratherthan helps . By the way, have you ever met H . F .

Farney ? Farney is an Alsatian , a fine man,and

a superb sketcher though lazy as a serpent . Butif you ever want imaginative drawing of a certainclass

,he is one to do it .

Please don’t ask me when I ’m going to New York .

I really can’t find out. I wish I could . I ought tobe there on the 15th . But I am peculiarly situated ,tied up by a business-muddle , tangled by necess ities Of waiting for information , — tormented , b efuddled , anxious beyond expression about an undecided plan

,shivering with cold, and longing for

the tropics . All my life I have suffered with coldall kinds of cold psychical and physical ; I

hate I never can resign myself to live init ! I can’t even think in it , and I would not beafraid of that Warm Place where sinners are supposed to go ! Perhaps the G . A . will sentence me toeverlasting sojourn in an iceberg when I haveceased to sin .

Very faithfully, and to some extent apologetically .

For you I do remain always as nice as I can be .

LAFCADIO HEARN.

TO ELIZABETH BISLAN D 44 9

TO ELIZABETH E ISLAND

PHILADELPHIA 1889 .

DEAR MISS BISLA N D , I can’t say definitelywhen I shall be in New York , to have the delightful pleasure of a chat with you something I havebeen looking forward to for fully a year ; but I willwrite to tell you a few days in advance . I amdrifting about with the forces of circumstancefollowing directions of least resistance . Just now Ihave a large mass (at least it looks very big to me)of MS . to amend and emend and arrange into atropical book : you will like some things in it .When this job 1s finished , in a couple of weeks , itis probable I will set to work on a short sketch or

story, for which I have the material partly arranged ; and then I will go to New York . It is soquiet in this beautiful great city , and my presentenvironment is so pleasant , that I am sure of

doing better work here than I could in that frightful cyclone of electricity and machinery called NewYork .

I am afraid you were right about the tropics , andthe fascination of climate . It is still upon me , andI shall find it very difficult to conquer the temptation to return to the French colonies : the mainfact which helps me is the conviction that I cannotwork there , - One’s memory and will blurs andfails in the incessant heat and sleepy air ; and forthree months before leaving I could not write aline . My friends advise me to try the Orientnext time ; and I think I shall .

4 50 LAFCADIO HEAR N

I have a novelette in the M aga zine pigeon-holes ,—you will like it ; but I don

’t know when it isgoing to come out .It is not a little pleasure to know that my admi

ration of your verses can be an encouragement ;you have quite forgiven my ancient effort to amend

a stanza by spoiling it ! I think your presentposit ion will leave you time after a while forall you love to do , and can do so uniquely . Magazine editing is so largely a question of method andsystem so far as I can learn— that I fancy youwill eventually find it possible to claim a few hoursevery day for yourself ; and such systematic workas you must take hold of, will not , like journalisticroutine , deaden aspiration . I hope you will havea greater success with the new monthly than youyourself expect , and I am sure you will if you havefair chances at all . But I must wait for theopportunity to see you because what one writes

(at least what I myself write) on such matterssounds so fictitious and flat , though you knowit comes from your sincere friend ,

LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO ELIZABETH BISLA N D

PHILADELPH IA, 1889 .

DEAR MISS BISLA N D , It is true that I am onlya small Voice ; but the Voice has been uninter

ruptedly in the City of Doctors and Quakers , withthe exception of a much regretted interim passedin looking at that monstrosity, aptly described

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4 52 LAFCADIO HEARN

weeks more , and will h ave ever so many things totell you .

I have never seen the Cosmopol itan in its newdress , and I do not know what has been going onanywhere .

Philadelphia is a city very peculiar isolated bycustom antique , but having a good solid socialmorality, and much peace . It has its own drydrab newspapers , which are not like any othernewspapers in the world , and contain nothing notimmediately concerning Philadelphia . Consequentlyno echo from New York enters here nor any fromanywhere else : there are no New York paperssold to speak of. The Quaker City does not wantthem— thinks them in bad taste , accepts only themagazines and weeklies . But it ’s the best o ld cityin the whole world all the same .

Faithfully,L . HEARN .

TO ELIZABETH BISL A N D

PHILADELPHIA, 1889 .

MY DEAR MISS BISL A N D , I don’t know whetheryou saw a little gem of Loti’s in the F ortnightlyI cut it out and send it , also an attempt at translation which proves the wisdom of the Englishmagazine editor in printing it in French , anda comment of mine . I don’t think you are likelyto wish to print such a thing as the translation ;but if you should , don

’t use it without sending mea proof, because it is full Of errors .

TO ELIZABETH EISLAN D 4 5 3

While in Saint-Pierre , Martinique , I found itoriginally contributed , in French , to the F ortnightlyfor August , 1888— copied into a French paper.The impression made by reading it startled me forreasons independent of the exquisite weirdness of

the thought . There was the great orange sunsetof the tropics before me , over a lilac sea, bronzingthe green of the mango , and tamarind-trees , andthe broad , satiny leaves of bananier and ba l isier .

The interior described in the Vision was not ofmodern Saint-Pierre ; but I knew an o l d interior inFort de France , whose present quaint conditionrepeated precisely the background of the dream .

A hundred years ago there were but two places onthe sunset-side of Martinique which could havepresented the spectacle of the little low streetsdescribed , Fort de France and Saint-Pierre . Thehigh mountains cut Off the sunset glow at an earlyhour on the eastern side of the island . It seemed tome a strange coincidence that in L es Col onies , alocal paper, I had just read also , that some Oldcemetery of Fort de France was about to be turnedinto a playground for children .

LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO ELIZABETH E ISLAND

{PHILADELPHIA 1889 .

DEAR MISS BISL A N D , Verily shirin, shirinta r ,

and shirinta rin art thou , and Saadi in the Garden of the Taj likewise , and also the letter whichI have just received .

4 5 4 LAFCADIO HEARN

Emotionally the book is surely Arnold’s strongestit has that intensity of sweetness which touches thesphere of pain . One need not seek in the Bostanor Gulistan for the essence of that volume : theOriental thought has been transfigured in its re

flection from a nineteenth century mind . There hasbeen in one of Edwin Arnold’s books some suggestion of a future religion of human goodness andhuman brotherhood , through recognition of soulunity, but in none , I think, so strangely as inthis . And then , what horror to read the very coarseinterview published recently in a daily paper : thebrutal repetition of a man’s words uttered underconstraint , about the most sacred of sentiments !

No ; I won’t go to New York till you come back .

I trust you will not overwork yourself : when wesee (I mean

“ hear ” ) each other, we can talk over allknown devices for lightening literary duties . I amacquainted with some ; and I would not have youfall sick for anything unless you were to dome something “ awfully m eanz

” then I ’m afraidI would not be so sorry as I ought to be .

I will try to give you something for the Christmasnumber anyhow, but not very long. By the way ,I have an idea which may be wrong, but seems tome worth uttering . The prose fiction which livesthrough the centuries in the short story : like theOld Greek romances— narratives like “Manon Lescaut ;

” Paul et Virginie ;” the Candide of

Voltaire ; the Vicar of Wakefiel d ;” “ Undine ,

”

etc . , outlive all the ampler labour of their authors .It seems to me that with this century the great novel

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4 56 LAFCADIO HEARN

Good-bye — your Voice wishes you a very happypleasure-trip , in which you will feel all sorts of newfeelings , and dream all m anner of new dreams .

LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO ELIZABETH E ISLAND

PH ILADELPHIA 1889 .

This morning I dropped you a little note ; butthis afternoon, reading your book-chat in theCosmo . I find I must write you something moreimpersonal .

You know, perhaps , that Spencer’s thought

about education the paramount necessity of educating the Will through the Emotion has received ,consciously or unconsciously , more attention inItaly than elsewhere . The Emotions are not , asa rule , educated at all outside of the home-circle .

The great public schools of all countries have asystem which either ignores the emotions , or leavesthem unprotected ; while all sectarian teachingwarps and withers them in the direction , at least ,of their natural growth . You know all this , I suppose

,better than I . But perhaps you do not know

the “ Cuore of Edmondo de Amicis (Thos . Y .

Crowell which has passed through 3 9

Italian editions . And if you do not know it , I prayyou to read it without skipping a single phrase .

It is as full of heart-sweetness as attar-of-roses isfull of flower-ghosts ; and it seems a revelation Ofwhat emotional education might accomplish .

I read Brownell’s book at your suggestion . It

TO GEORGE M . GOULD 4 5 7

contains , I think, the best teaching about how tostudy French character ; but I could not acceptmany of its inferences , —especially in regard toart and morality, without reluctance . There isa sense of something wanting in the book something lucid and spiritual (is it Conviction ?) thatmakes it heavy . How luminous and psychicallyelectric is Lowell’s book compared with it . Andhow much nobler a soul must be the dreamer of

Choson !I shall never write Miss Bis l and again ,

except upon an envelope . It is a formality, andyou are you : you are not a formality , but asomewhat . And I am only “

I .

”

TO GEORGE M . GOULD

1889.

DEAR GOULD , Verily there is no strength norpower but from God , - the High , the Great ! Ihave thy letter, O thou of enormous working ca

pa city, and I admire and wonder, but am in no wisesorry for thee , seeing thou doest that which thouart able to do , and findest pleasure therein andexcellence and dignity and power, and that ifthou wert doing it not thou wouldst surely be doingsomething else ; for God (whose name be exalted !)hath numbered thee among those who find felicityin exceeding activity . Thou art indeed forty-oneyears Old , by reckoning Of time ; but as thou a rt

of the G iants this reckoning hath no significationfor thee . Verily thou art but twenty-five years o ld,

4 58 LAFCADIO HEARN

and thou shalt never know age until a hundredwinters shall have passed over thee . And all thingswhich thou dost desire shall be accorded unto theeby Him who , like thyself, reposeth never, and whoseblessed name be forever exalted ! Also unto theeshall the patients come , as an army for multitude ,so that thy bell shall make but one ringing throughall thy days continuously , and that thy neighboursshall be Oppressed by reason of the concourse in thestreet about thy dwelling .

But as for me , concerning whom thou makestinquiry, trouble not thyself about thy servant , whosetrust and power are in God the High , the Great !That which shall be shall be , and that which hathbeen shall not be again : for the moment , indeed ,I am concerned only to know why the flame of mylamp goeth upwa rd, and all flame likewise , — um

less it be for the purpose of prais ing God (whosename be exalted by all living creatures For thousaidst unto me , being a K a feer , that Flame is avibration only ; but thou hast not been able to tellme the mystery of the pointing of fire and the upreaching of it to the feet of God , the Compass ionate ,the Merciful .Here it ra ineth always , and this Soul of me is

slowly evaporating, despite the perusal Of M a rcus

Aurelius Antoninus , who spake o f souls . Meseemsthat each time I behold the eyes Of her concerningwhom I spake to thee , something of that soul isdrawn out unto her, and devoured perhaps forsustenance of that J inneyah — which is her ownsoul . SO that mine hath become thin as the inner

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4 60 L AFCADIO HEARN

B ird’s body to be better known— since nobodyever knew it any better than you know it ; (orwould know if you had read all) could not haveexcept by making to operate , like the Vicar of Azeyl e-Rideau , all its

“ hinges and mesial partitions ,even to disjuncture. What a singular fact in thehistory of torture , that the inquisitor was trained tobelieve the beautiful body he was breaking andrending and burning was never bea utifu l that itsgrace and symmetry were illusions , the witchcraftof the dear o ld compassionate Devil striving to ‘

save his victim by the mirage of flesh lyattractiveness !Only through this belief could certain monstrositieshave been possible . It was always Saint Anthony’stemptation !I have a book for you an astounding book , a

godlike book . But I wa nt you to promise to readevery single word of it . Every word is dynamic .It is the finest book on the East ever written ; andthough very small contains more than all my libraryof Oriental books . And an American ( P) wrote it !It is called “The Soul of the Far East It willastound you like Schopenhauer, the same profundityand lucidity . Love to you , HEARN .

TO GEORGE M . GOULD

1889.

DEAR GOULD , I blacked — that is , I had myboots blacked yesterday , just for the same reasonthat we do things after people are dead (which wewould not have done for them while they lived and

TO GEORGE M . GOULD 4 61

asked) , with a ghostly idea of pleasing them . Ifyou had been here Imight not have had them blacked ,but as you were gone , I did it for the Shadow of you .

And I gave the boy 20 cents , beca use of the feeling that he might never have such a chance again .

That boy runs after me now everywhere , buthe is mistaken ! I am no longer the same ! I havesatisfied my conscience , and enjoy Nirvana .

This morning when I got up I thought the streetslooked queer. It seemed as if they were lightedby the afternoon in some way or other, instead ofthe morning . I went to the P. O . with The Soul ofthe Far East . H ow silent the streets for a Fridaymorning ! The population seemed all to haveebbed away somewhere as if to look at something .

The post-office was silent as a pyramid inside . Iwent to the book-store , and found it closed , andfor the first time realized that it was Sunday . ThenI understood why the streets looked l ike afternoon ;and the sunshine had a tinge as of evening in acemetery . Confound Sunday !Talking with Jakey last night about Nature , I

heard him express the Opinion that his capacity ofscient ific realization of the ca uses of things wasenough to account for the absence in him of anyfeeling of awe or reverence in the presence of mountain scenery . It occurred to me therewith that thecharacteristic of indifference to poetry might bealmost common to mathematicians . The man whowrote “The Soul of the Far East ” and “ Choson ”

is nevertheless an accomplished mathematician .

But you will notice that his divine poetry touches

4 62 LAFCADIO HEARN

only that which no scientific knowledge can explain, —that which no mathematics can solve ,that which must remain mysterious throughout allconceivable span of time , — the fluttering of theHuman Soul in its chrysalis , which it at once hatesand loves , and hates because it loves , and strives toburst through , and still fears unspeakably to break ,though dimly conscious of the infinite Ghostly

Peace beyond . HEARN .

TO GEORGE M . GOULD1889 .

DEAR GOULD , I feel like a white granularm ass of amorphous crystals— myformula appearsto be isomeric with Spasmotoxin . My aurochlorideprecipitates into beautiful prismatic needles . MyPlatinochloride develops octohedron crystals , witha fine blue fluorescence . My physiological action isnot indifferent . One millionth of a grain injectedunder the skin of a frog produced instantaneousdeath accompanied by an orange blossom odour .The heart stopped in systole . A base —L

3H

9

N G,offers analogous reaction to phosm otinigstic

acid . Yours with best regards ,PH OSM OLYOD IC LAFCADIO HEARN .

GOULD , Concerning zombis , tell me all aboutthem .

”

HEARN , In order to relate you that whichyou desire , it will be necessary first to explain thedifference in the idea of the supernatural as existing

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4 64 LAFCADIO HEARN

HEARN, pacifying the fury of the ganglioniccentres with the most extreme possible difficulty ,timidly observes

,

“But you don’t care to hear it ?GOULD , moving with inconceivable rapidity

,

dynamically overcharged,

“Of course , I do : I’m just dying to hear it .

‘Hearn, running after him , skipping preliminariesin the anguish of

“hope deferred which maketh theheart sick ,

”

“Well , it was in the Rue du Bois Morier, oneof the steepest and strangest streets in the world ,full of fantastic gables , and the shadows ofGOULD ,

“Yes , I’l l be out in a minute .

(Vanishes through a shop entrance. )

(Inexpressible chaos and bewilderment of impulsesafferent and efferent , electrical collisions in theganglia , unspeakable combustion of tissue in theintercorrelating fibres , paralysis of conflictingemotions , unutterable anguish : coma followed byacute mania in the person of Hearn . )GOULD , emerging

,

“Well , go on with that o l dyarn .

But Hearn is being already conveyed by two largePhiladelphia Policemen to the Penn . Lunatic Asylum for Uncura b l es .

Astonishment of Gould .

TO GEORGE M . GOULD 4 65

TO GEORGE M . GOULD

1889 .

GOULD , Just a fter I wrote you last night ,something began to whiffle quite soundlessly roundmy head : I saw only a shadow, and I turned downthe gas , remembering that he who ex tinguisheth

his light so that insects may not perish therein ,shall , according to the book of L a otse , obtain longerlife and remission of sins . Then it struck me withits wings so heavily that I knew it was a bat , for

no bird could fly so silently ; and I turned up the gasagain , full . There it was ! very large , circling round and round the ceiling so swiftly that Ifelt dizzy trying to turn to keep it in sight , and asnoiselessly as its own shadow above it . I could nottell which was the shadow and which the life,until both came together at last upon a ledge , andmade a little peak-shouldered devilish thing withstrangely twisted ears .All at once I remembered an experience in Mar

tinique one summ er evening . We were at GrandeAnse , friend Arnoux and I , supping in a littl eroom opening over a low garden full of banana-trees ,to the black beach of the sea ; and the great Voicethundered so we could scarcely hear ourselves speak ;and the candle in the verrine fluttered like somethingafraid . Then right over my head a bat began tocircle , with never a sound . Arnoux exclaimed :“M a is , mon cher , rega rde cette sa crée béte a h

c’est dr6l e!

” By the look of his face I knew dré le

meant weird . He struck it down with his napkin

4 66 LAFCADIO HEARN

and it disappeared ; but a moment later cam e backagain , and flew round as before . Again he hit it anddrove it away ; but it always came flitting back .

Then we all laughed ; and Pierre , the host , tickling my ear with his beard , cried out,

“C

’est ta

ma itresse a Sa int-Pierre el l e est morte, el l e

vient te chercher .

”

And I looked so serious thatArnoux burst into a laugh as loud as the surf outside .N owwhenIsaw that bat , I thought it was weird ,dr6l e as the other . I even found myself wonder

ing , Who it could be ? I thought it might beC lemence , about whose death I received news inmy last letter . I did not think for a moment itwas Gould . Only some very poor simple soulwould avail itself of so humble a vehicle for apparition. Then it looked so much like somethingdamned as it moved about , that I felt ashamed ofthinking it could be Clemence , — the best kindof o ld souls , Clemence —My b l anchisseuse. Itwas not easy to catch the bat without hurtingit . I argued that if it was anybody I knew itcould not be afraid of me . It sat on the mirror .It went under the table . It flattened under thetrunk and feigned death . Then I caught it inmyhat ; and it revealed its plain nature by buryingits teeth in ~myfinger ; and it would not let go ,and it squeaked and chippered like a ghost . I wasalmost mad enough to hurt it ; but I tried to caressits head , which felt soft and nice . But it showedall its teeth and looked too ugly , and there wasa musky smell of hell about it so that I knew, if

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4 68 LAFCADIO HEARN

plumes under the all-purifying sun , and reachdown through o l d roots to the bones of me , and tryto raise me up

“ Ruth ” maketh progress ; but I had to murderthe “Mother of G od Anyhow the simile wouldhave had a Catholic idolatrousness about it , so thatI don’t regret it . I send a clipping I found in thetrunk , to make you laugh : the

“ Femmes Arabes ofDr . Perron furnished me the facts . Mrs . Gouldmoveth or reposeth in serenity , Jakey fu lfil l ethwith becoming dignity the duties devolved uponhim . I have consumed one plug of “Quaker City ;

”

but as the smoke spires up,the spiritual-sensualism

of Ruth becometh manifest .There has been some rain almost worthy of the

tropics , and much darkness . And I can understand better why the ancients ofYucatan , accustomedto the charm of real physical light ( about which youNortherners know nothing) , put no fire into theirhell , but darkness only , as woe enough for tropicalsouls to bear !I hope you are having a glorious , joyous journey

ing , and remain , Lovingly yours ,HEARN .

I am very sorry your trip was a chilly and rainyone . As for me , I have been shivering here , andhave got to get South somewhere soon ,— if onlytill I can get back to the tropics . I am sorry to

TO 4 69

confess it ; but the tropical Circe bewitches meagain I must go back to her.I had such a queer dream last night . A great ,

warm garden with high clipped hedges ,—muchhigher than a man , and a sort of pleasantcountry-house , with steps leading into the garden ,and everywhere , even on the steps , hampers and

baskets . Krehbiel was there , he told me he wasgoing to Europe never to come back . And you werethere , too , all in black silk sheathed in it ; youwere also going away somewhere ; and I was packing for you , getting things ready . Everybody wassaying nice things : one did not seem to hear,really one never hears voices in dreams , but onefeels the words , tones and all, as if they passedunspoken just the soul or will of them onlyout of one brain into another. I can’t rememberwhat anybody said precisely : what I recollect bestis the sensation that everybody was going, and thatI was to stay all alone in the place , or anywhere Ipleased ; and it was getting dark. Then I woke ‘

up,

and said : Well, I really must see her.” I sup

pose dreams mean nothing : but interpreted by thecontrary, as is a custom, it would mean the reversethat I am going away somewhere, which I

don’t yet know .

Always and in all things yours ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

P. S . Oh you spoke about Philadelphia .

Is it possible you have never seen it ? Is it possible

you have never seen Fairmount Park ? Believe me ,

4 70 LAFCADIO HEARN

then , that it is the most beautiful place of the wholecivilized world on any sunny , tepid summer day .

Your Central Park is a cabbage-garden by comparison : F . Pk . is fifteen miles long

,by about eight

or ten broad . But the size is nothing . It is thebeauty of the woods and their vistas

,the long

drives by the river, the glimpse of statuary andfountains from delightful terraces , the knolls commanding the whole circle of the horizon

,the vast

garden and lawn spaces , the shadowed alleys wherepeople make scarcely any more sound than

a swarm of bees , — and over it all such a soft ,sweet dreamy light . (When you go to see it , besure to choose a sunny , wa rm day . ) Thousands ofthousands of carriages file by , each with a pair oflovers in it . Everybody in the park seems to bemaking love to somebody . Love is so much theatmosphere of the place , a part of the light andcalm and perfume — that you feel as if drenchedwith it , permeated by it , mesmerized . And if youare a l l alone , you will look about you once ina while , wondering that somebody else is not b eside you . But I forgot that I am not writing toa stupid man , like myself. L . H .

NEW YORK , November, 1889 .

Oh ! you splendid girl ! will it really give yousome short pleasure to see this o ld humbug’s writing again ? I was very sorry not to have beenable to see you : I should have wished to be able

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4 72 LAFCADIO HEARN

hoping for you , praying for you to win your race,so that every one may admire you still more ,

and your name be flashed round the world quickerthan the sunshine , and your portrait in spite ofyou appear in some French journal where theyknow how to engrave portraits properly . I thoughtI might be able to coax one from you ; but as younever are the same person two m inutes in succession, I am partly consoled : it could only be one

small phase of you , Proteus , Circe , Undine ,D j ineeyeh !

And you found the loose bar at last , and shookit out , and flew ! I much doubt if they will everget you well into the cage again , —that was so

irksome to you . But perhaps the world itself willseem a

’

cage to you hereafter : it will have grownso much smaller in that blue-fla shing circuit of

yours about it . Perhaps when human society shallhave becom e infinitely more fluid and electric thanat present , —which it is sure to do with the ex

pansion and increasing complexity of intercommu

nica tion by steam and wire , —this little half-deadplanet will seem too small to mank ind . One willfeel upon it , in the light of a larger knowledge ,constrained almost as much a s Simon on the topof his pillar, and long, like him ,

’ for birth intoa larger mode of being . Even now there is nomore fleeing into strange countries , because thereare no strange countries : everything is being interbound and interspersed with steel rails and lightning wires ; — there are no more mysteries , — except what are called hearts , those points at which

TO 4 73

individualities rarely touch each other, only to feelas sudden a thrill of surprise as at meeting a ghost ,and then to wonder in vain , for the rest of life ,what lies out of soul-sight .

D id you often wish to stop somewhere , and feelhearts beating about you , and see the faces of godsand dancing-girls ? Or were you petted like theL adyof the A roostook by officers and crew, andBritish dignitaries eager to win one Circe-smile ,and superb Indian Colonels of princely houses returning home , that you had no chance to regretanything ? I have been so afraid of never seeing

you again, that I have been hating splendid imaginary foreigners in dream s , which would have beenquite wickedly selfish if I had been awake !With every true good wish and sincere affection ,

Your friend ,LAFCADIO HEARN .

TO

March 7—8, 1890 .

I must write you a line or two , before I finishpacking, — though it is the hour of ghosts , whenwriting is a grave imprudence . Something makesme write you nevertheless .I could not go to see Mr. M there was too

much ice and snow . But you can forgive tha t.I shall be very sorry not to see you again , and

this t ime , you are not sorry to know I am goingaway as you were when I went South . Perhaps

you are quite right .

4 74 LAFCADIO HEARN

But that is nothing . What I want to say is,that

after looking at your portrait , I must tell you howsweet and infinitely good you can be

,and

how much I like you , and how I like you , or atleast some of those m any who are one in you .

I m ight say love you , as we love those who aredead (the dead who still shape lives) ; —butwhich , or how many , of you I cannot say . Onelooks at me from your picture ; but I have seenothers , equally pleasing and less mysterious .

N ot when you were in evening dress , b ecause you were then too beautiful ; and what isthus beautiful is not that which is most charmingin you . It only dazzles one , and constrains .I like you best in the simple dark dress , when Ican forget everything except all the souls of you .

Turn by turn one or other floats up from thedepth within and rushes to your face and transfigures it ;

—and that one which made you smilewith pleasure like a child at something pretty wewere both admiring is simply divine . I donot think you really know how sacred you are ; andyet you ought to know : it is because you do notknow what is in you , who are in you , that you saysuch strangely material things . And you yourself,by being , utterly contradict them a l l .

It seems to me that all those mysterious liveswithin you all the Me’s that were keep asking the Me that is , for something always refused ;—that you keep saying to them :

“But you aredead and cannot see — you can only feel ; and Ican see , and I will not open to you , because the

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