--'Ah! I understand. I am afraid I shall be like them. We Japanese are not good correspondents. In that respect I think the English are the best. It seems writing letters is a part of their pleasure. They write so many letters even in the midst of hasty travelling. Our heads somehow seem heavy when it comes to the task of letter-writing. When we go back to Japan, unless we are engaged in some offices where foreign languages are needed, we have no occasion to think or to write in them, and we soon forget the thread of the foreign style of thought and tongue, and, therefore, it is difficult even to find good dicta for writing a simple letter. Remember, moreover, there is nothing so difficult as writing simple letters; especially is it so with us Japanese. Then, again, the paper, ink, and pens which we use for our own writing are totally different from yours, and they are useless for writing Occidental characters. Therefore, when we think of writing a letter to an Occidental friend, we might find the ink-bottle quite dry, nibs quite rotten, and the sheets of writing paper may be wanting, and perhaps we should have to send for them all anew. The spelling of quite common words may not be at our command, and if we just wished to refer to a dictionary, we should perhaps find that it had been mislaid somewhere among the heaps of Japanese books, or perhaps had been taken away altogether by a young student. Such being the case, you can well imagine that the Japanese cannot be very good correspondents if they wished. The fact that they do not write letters does not show that they do not remember old friendships, and therefore, if they happen to revisit the West, they would be, as you say, as friendly and pleasant as though nothing had happened in the interval.' --'That explains the matter very well,' said she. 'I am sure you will be like one of those, especially as you will have so much to do for your country, perhaps in some busy office in the Government.' --'You are quite right in the first part of your observation. I have no reputation for being a good correspondent. Perhaps you know that the great Marlborough always felt much difficulty in writing letters. He used to say that he would sooner fight a great battle, and with more ease, than write a letter of fifteen lines to his wife, so you will see I have some consolation, because even amongst the English there are those who are not particularly fond of writing letters. As to the second part of your observation, you are wrong. I have no desire to seek office. I do not care for the hustle and bustle of the world. I prefer to spend my time calmly and quietly in the midst of nature, and therefore, after my return to Japan, you will hear of me no more. If you ever happen to hear of me, it will only be when some grave and exceptional circumstance of my country requires my service, whereby I may be obliged to sacrifice my own inclination. But I must now say "exit."'