LUCUBRATTO EBRIA.

Press, Volume LXVII, Issue 14052, 25 May 1911, Page 16

LUCUBRATTO EBRIA.

(From "Tlio Press" July 29, 18(55.) Thero is a period in the evening, or more generally towards the still small hours of the morning, in which we so far unbend as to take a single glass of hot whisky and water. We will neither defend the practice nor excuse it. Wo state it as a fact which must be borne in mind by the readers of this articlo; for we know not how, whether it be the inspiration of the drink, or the relief from the harassing work with which the day has been occupied, or from whatever other cause, yet wo are certainly liable about this time io such a prophetic influence as we seldom else experience. We are rapt in a dream such as wo ourselves - know to be a dream, and which, like other dreams, we can hardly embody in a distinct utterance. We know that what we see is but a sort of intellectual Siamese twins, of which one is Bubstance and tho other shadow, but we cannot set either free without killing both. Wo are unable to rudely tear away tho veil of phantasy in which the truth is shrouded, so we present the reader with a draped-figure, and his own judgment must discriminate between the clothes and the body. A truth's prosperity is like a jest's: "It is the ear of him that hears it." Somo may see our lucubration as.we saw it; and others may see nothing but a drunken dream, or the nightmare of a distempered imagination. To ourselves it is sis the speaking with unknown tongues to the early Corinthians; we cannot fully understand our own speech, and wo fear lest there bo not a sufficient number of interpreters present to make our utterance edify. But there! (Go on straight to the body of the article.) The limbs of the lower animals have never been modified by any act of deliberation and forethought on their own part. Recent researches have thrown absolutely no light upon the origin of life—upon the initial force which introduced a sense of identity, and a deliberate faculty into the world; but they do certainly appear to show very clearly that each species of tho animal and vegetable kingdom has been moulded into its present shape by chances and changes of many millions of years, by chances and changes over which the creature modified had no control whatever, and concerning whose aim it was alike unconscious and indifferent, by forces which seem insensate to the pain which they inflict, but by whose inexorably beneficent cruelty the brave and strong keep coming to the fore, while the- weak and bad drop behind and perish. There was a moral government of this world before man came near it—a moral government suited to the capacities of the governed, and which, unperceived by thorn, hais laid fast the foundations of courage, endurance, and cunning. It laid them so fact that they become more and more hereditary. Horace says well, fortes creantur fortibus et bonis—good men beget good children; the rule held even in tlie geological period: good iethyosauri begot good icthyosaun, and would to our discomfort have gone on doing' so • to the present time, had not better creatures. been begetting better things than icthyosauri, or famine, or fire, or convulsion,-, put an end to them. Good apes begot good apes, and at last, when human intelligence stole like a late spring upon the mimicry of our semi-simious . ancestry, the creature learnt how he could, of his own forethought, add extra corporaneous limbs to the members of his body, and become not only a vertebrate mammal, but h vertebrate machinate mammal into the bargain. It was. a wise monkey that first learned to carry a stick and a useful monkey that mimicked him. For the race of man has learned to walk uprightly, much as a child learns thd same thing: At first he crawls on all fours, theii he clambers, laying hold of whatever he can; and lastly he stands upright alone and walks,, but for a long time with an unsteady step. So when the human race was in its gorilla-hood it generally carried a

stick: from carrying-a stick for many million years it became accustomed and modified to an upright position. Tt:o stick wherewith it had learned to walk would now serve it to beat its younger brothers, and then it found out its service as a lever. Man would thus learn that the limbs of his body wero not the only limbs that he could command. His body was already tho most versatile in existence, but be could render it more versatile still. With the improvement in his body his mind improved also. Ho learnt to perceive the moral government under which ho held tho feudal tenure of his life—perceiving it ho symbolised it and to this day our poets and prophets still strive to symbolise it- more and more completely. The mind grew because the body grew —more things were perceived—more things wero handled, and being handled became familiar. But these came chiefly about because there was a hand to handle with; without the hand there would be no handling; and no method of holding and examining it comparable to the human hand. Ihe tail of an opossum is a prebensilo thing, but it is too far from his tho elephant's trunk is bettor, and it is probably that to their trunks that tho elephants owe their sagacity. It is hero that tho bee in spite of her wings has failed. She lias a high civilization hut it is one whose equilibrium appears to havo been already attained, the appearance is a false one, for the bee changes, though more slowly than man can watch her; but the reason of tho very gradual nature of the change is chiefly because the physical organisation of tho insect changes, but slowly also. She is poorly off for hands, and has never fairly grasped tho notion of tacking on other limbs to tbo limbs of her own body, and so being short lived to boot, she remains from century to century to human eyes in statu quo. Her body never becomes machinate, whereas this new phaso of organism, which has been introduced with man into tho mundane economy has made liim a very quicksand for the foundation of an unchanging civilisation; certain fundamental principles will always remain, but every century the change in man's physical status, as compared with the elements around him, is*greater and greater; he is a shifting basis on which no equilibrium of habit and civilization can be established ; wero it not for this constant change in our physical powers, which our mechanical limbs "have brought about, man would have long since apEarently attained his limit of possiility; he would bo a creature of as much fixity as the ants and bees—he would still havo advanced, but no fastor than other animals advance. If there were a race of men without any mechanical appliances wo should see this clearly. There aro none, nor have there been so far as we can tell for millions and millions of years. Tho lowest Australian savage carries weapons for tho fight or tbe chase, and has his cooking and drinking utensils at borne; a race without these, tilings would bo completely ferae naturae and not men at all. . "Wo aro unable to point to any example of a race absolutely , devoid of oxtra-corporaneous limbs, but we., can see among the Chinese that with tho "failure to invent new limbs a civilization becomes as much fixed as that of tho ants, arid among savage tribes we observe that few implements involve a state of things scarcely human at all. Such tribes only advanco pari passu with tho creatures upon which they feed.

It is a mistake then to take the view adopted by a previous correspondent of this paper; to consider the machines i as identities, to aniinalise them, and to anticipate 'their final triumph over mankind. They are to be regarded the mode of development by which human organism is most especially advancing, and every fresh invention is to be considered as an additional member of the resources of the human body. Herein lies the fundamental difference between man and his inferiors. As regards his flesh and blood, his senses, appetites, and affections, the difference is one of degree rather than of kind, but in the deliberate invention of such unity of limbs as is exemplified by the railway train—that seven-leagued foot which fivo hundred may own at once— he stands quite alone.

In confirmation of the views concerning mechanism, which wo have been advocating above, it must bo remembered that men are not merely the children of their parents, but they are begotten of the institutions of tho state of tho mechanical sciences under which they are born and bred. These things have made us what we are. We are children of the plough, the spade, and tho ship; we are children ot the extended liberty and knowledge which tho printing press lias diffused. Our ancestors added theso things to their previously existing members; the new limbs wore preserved by natural selection, and incorporated into human society; they descended with modifications, and henco proceeds the difference between our ancestors and ourselves. By the institutions and state of science under which a man is born it is determined whether he shall have the limbs of an Australian savuge or those of a nineteenth century Englishman. The former is supplemented with little save a rug and a javelin; the j latter varies his physique with the f changes of the season, with age, and with advancing or decreasing wealth. If it is wot he is furnished with an organ, which is called an umbrella, and which seems designed for the purpose of protecting either his clothes or his lungs from the injurious effects of rain. His watch is of more importance to! him than a good deal of his hair, at! any rate than of his whiskers; besides i this he carries a knife, and generally a pencil case. His memory goes in a' pocket book. He grows moro complex \ as he becomes older, and ho will then be seen with a pair of spectacles, per-; haps also with false teeth and a wig; but if he bo a really well developed specimen of tho race, he will be furnished with a largo box upon wheels, two horses and a coachman. Let the reader ponder over these last remarks, and ho will see that the principal varieties and sub-varieties of the human race are not now to be looked for among the negroes, the Circassians, tho Malays, or the American aborigines, but among the rich and the poor. Tho difference in physical organization between these two species of man is far greater than that between the so-called types of humanity. The rich man can go from here to England whenever he j feels so inclined. The legs of the other j are by an invisible fatality prevented j from carrying him beyond certain narrow limits. Neither rich nor poor as j yet see the philosophy of the thing, or admit that he who can tack a portion of one of the P. and O. boats on to his identity is a much more highly organized being than one who cannot. Yet the fact is patent enough if we once think it over from the mere consideration of the respect with which we so often treat those who are richer than ourfcolves. We observe men for the most part (admitting however some.few abnormal exceptions) to be deeply impressed with the superior organization of those who have money. It is wrong to attribute this respect to an\ .unworthy motive, for the feeling is strictly legitimate and springs from somo of "tho" very highest impulses of our nature. It is the same sort of affectionate reverence which a dog feels for man, and is not infrequently manifested in a similar manner. We admit that these last sentences arc open to question, and we should hardly like to commit ourselves irrecoverably to the sentiments they express; but we will say this much for certain, namely, that the rich man is the true hundred-hand-ed Gyges of thc poets. Ho alone possesses the full complement of limbs, who stands .it the summit of opulence, and we may assert with strictly scientific accuracy that the Rothschilds are the most astonishing organisms which tlie world has ever yet seen. For to the nerves or tissues or whatever it be that answers to the helm of a rich man's desires, there is a whole army of limbs seen and unseen attachable.

He may bo reckoned by his horse power —by tho number of foot pounds which ho has nionev enough to set in motion. Who then will deny that a man whose will represents tho motive power of a thousand horses is a being very different from the one who is equivalent but to tbo power of a singlo one. Henceforward then, instead of saying that a man is hard up. let us say that his organisation is at a low ebb, or if wo wish him well let us hope that he will grow plenty of limbs- It must be remembered "that wo are dealing with physical organization only. Wo do not say that the thousand-horse man is better than tho one-horse man, wo only say that ho is more highly organized, and should be recognised as being so by the scientific leaders of tho period. A man's will, truth, endurance, are part of him also, aud may, as in the case of tho laic Mr. Cobden, havo in thomsoh-es a power equivalent to all the norse power which they can influence; but were we to go into this part of tho question we should never have done, and we are compelled reluctantly to leave our dream in its present 'fragmentary condition. A CHARACTERISTIC LETTER.

In conclusion, wo may givo a most characteristic and interesting letter, written by Butler (jnst a few months before his death) to the editor of "The Press." It is dated from Loudon, January 7tb, 1902, and acknowledges receipt" of papers dealing with the Jubilee of the Province. Our readers will observe that Butler still adheres to his theory that tho writer of the "Odyssey" was a woman. -Your very kind letter of November 18th. and copies both of the Jubilee <Weekly' and the daily 'Press,', reached mo a few days ago, but an influx ot foreign visitors on whom I have to attend, and the dangerous illness of my friend, Mr H. F. Jones (who is now on tho mend), have prevented mc from thanking you till now. '•The 'Weekly Press' is really an astonishing performance, as well as a most interesting one—l need not aay that I shall value it very highly. The illustration which affects mc personally most is the ono of Dr. Sinclair s grave, which is on my own run (that was). ■ I was away down at. Christchurch when poor Dr. Sinclair, who was staying at my station, was drowned,* and never heard of what had happened till I actually reached home, and found that the body had been already buried —with a service, I blush to say, read from my bullock driver's Mass Book, by Dr. Haast as be then was—no Church of England Prayer Book being found on the station. Possibly I had taken mine with mo for use at Cliristchurch, but at this distance of time —nearly forty years— who can say?

"I am glad, also, to possess photographs of my old friend, W. S. Moorhouse, who dwells over in my memory as one of the very finest men whose path I ever crossed, but who also haunts mo bitterly as one of the very few mcn —at least, I trust it may bo so —who treated mc with far greater kindness than I did him. His memory is daily with mc, notwithstanding all these years, and ever will be, as long as I can remember anything. But. alas! it is as that of one.who showed nothing but extreme kindness and goodwill to mc, ■ and who did not receive from mc the measure which he had meted out. Not that I ever failed in admiration and genuine affection but (it is true under great stress) I did not consider things which a larger knowledge of the world has shown mc I assuredly oufjlit to havo considered.—Enough! He dwells ever with mo as, perhaps, the greatest man all round that I have ever known. I was also very rdad to have tho photo, of my old and valued friend, J. C. Veel. whose-inimitable articles. 1 oii 'Public Gardens' (I need not say., a parody on tbe Canterbury 'Kaiapoi Address,' and 'Shall Mr Ollivier hnve a Statne?' are often read by mc to friends, with never failing appreciation on their part and delight on mine.

"I thank you for your most kind and too flattering article on the announcement of my "Erewhon Revisited.' I immediately sent it to Mr Grant Richards, and asked him to eend you copies. You will see reminiscences of my own first crossing tho hills above Lyttelton and riding across the plains in Chapter XXVII., but I havo deliberately altered a good deal, for I had to make" the writer get up the Rakaia Goree, whereas I have really taken him to the Rangitata.

"I suppose I am probably tho last survivor of 'those who rode on tho trial trip of th© first locomotive that ever, travelled in New Zealand. Moorhouse, Reeves, myself, and one other (but or this I am not certain) were the only o"es on tho enrrino as it started from Christchurch and ran to the Heathcote.

"As an after-thought, I may express my gratitude to tho writer of the 'Odyssey* for not having taken anything like tho same liberties with the neighbourhood of Trapani that I have taken both in 'Erewhon.' and _rewhon Revisited, ,, with the topography of- Canterbury. Had she, done otherwise I doubt whether I should have ever felt so confident of having hounded her down and brought her back to her own people, as I now fearlessly am.

"Strange—the way in which Baker and I discovered the pass to the West Coast over the head waters of tno Rakaia is drawn closely from fact. We went up the Rangitata and actually overlooked tho pass over the Rakaia ranges, which was exactly opposite us, and which we should not otherwise havo found. Alas! that our having found it should hava cost poor Whitcombe his life. Pray excuse the lengthto which this letter has extended itself, and with renewed thanks.—Believe mc, yours very truly. (Signed) S. Butler."