Erewhon Revisited Twenty Years Later, Both by the Original Discoverer of the Country and by His Son. Samuel Butler
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To-morrow we can rest; what, I wonder, can we do on Saturday? But the others will be here then, and we can tell them about the statues.”
“Yes, but mind you do not blurt out anything about the landrails.”
“I think we may tell Dr. Downie.”
“Tell nobody,” said Panky.
They then talked about the statues, concerning which it was plain that nothing was known. But my father soon broke in upon their conversation with the first instalment of quails, which a few minutes had sufficed to cook.
“What a delicious bird a quail is,” said Hanky.
“Landrail, Hanky, landrail,” said the other reproachfully.
Having finished the first birds in a very few minutes they returned to the statues.
“Old Mrs. Nosnibor,” said Panky, “says the Sunchild told her they were symbolic of ten tribes who had incurred the displeasure of the sun, his father.”
I make no comment on my father’s feelings.
“Of the sun! his fiddlesticks’ ends,” retorted Hanky. “He never called the sun his father. Besides, from all I have heard about him, I take it he was a precious idiot.”
“O Hanky, Hanky! you will wreck the whole thing if you ever allow yourself to talk in that way.”
“You are more likely to wreck it yourself, Panky, by never doing so. People like being deceived, but they like also to have an inkling of their own deception, and you never inkle them.”
“The Queen,” said Panky, returning to the statues, “sticks to it that …”
“Here comes another bird,” interrupted Hanky; “never mind about the Queen.”
The bird was soon eaten, whereon Panky again took up his parable about the Queen.
“The Queen says they are connected with the cult of the ancient Goddess Kiss-me-quick.”
“What if they are? But the Queen sees Kiss-me-quick in everything. Another quail, if you please, Mr. Ranger.”
My father brought up another bird almost directly. Silence while it was being eaten.
“Talking of the Sunchild,” said Panky; “did you ever see him?”
“Never set eyes on him, and hope I never shall.”
And so on till the last bird was eaten.
“Fellow,” said Panky, “fetch some more wood; the fire is nearly dead.”
“I can find no more, sir,” said my father, who was afraid lest some genuine ranger might be attracted by the light, and was determined to let it go out as soon as he had done cooking.
“Never mind,” said Hanky, “the moon will be up soon.”
“And now, Hanky,” said Panky, “tell me what you propose to say on Sunday. I suppose you have pretty well made up your mind about it by this time.”
“Pretty nearly. I shall keep it much on the usual lines. I shall dwell upon the benighted state from which the Sunchild rescued us, and shall show how the Musical Banks, by at once taking up the movement, have been the blessed means of its now almost universal success. I shall talk about the immortal glory shed upon Sunch’ston by the Sunchild’s residence in the prison, and wind up with the Sunchild Evidence Society, and an earnest appeal for funds to endow the canonries required for the due service of the temple.”
“Temple! what temple?” groaned my father inwardly.
“And what are you going to do about the four black and white horses?”
“Stick to them, of course—unless I make them six.”
“I really do not see why they might not have been horses.”
“I dare say you do not,” returned the other drily, “but they were black and white storks, and you know that as well as I do. Still, they have caught on, and they are in the altar-piece, prancing and curvetting magnificently, so I shall trot them out.”
“Altar-piece! Altar-piece!” again groaned my father inwardly.
He need not have groaned, for when he came to see the so-called altar-piece he found that the table above which it was placed had nothing in common with the altar in a Christian church. It was a mere table, on which were placed two bowls full of Musical Bank coins; two cashiers, who sat on either side of it, dispensed a few of these to all comers, while there was a box in front of it wherein people deposited coin of the realm according to their will or ability. The idea of sacrifice was not contemplated, and the position of the table, as well as the name given to it, was an instance of the way in which the Erewhonians had caught names and practices from my father, without understanding what they either were or meant. So, again, when Professor Hanky had spoken of canonries, he had none but the vaguest idea of what a canonry is.
I may add further that as a boy my father had had his Bible well drilled into him, and never forgot it. Hence biblical passages and expressions had been often in his mouth, as the effect of mere unconscious cerebration. The Erewhonians had caught many of these, sometimes corrupting them so that they were hardly recognizable. Things that he remembered having said were continually meeting him during the few days of his second visit, and it shocked him deeply to meet some gross travesty of his own words, or of words more sacred than his own, and yet to be unable to correct it. “I wonder,” he said to me, “that no one has ever hit on this as a punishment for the damned in Hades.”
Let me now return to Professor Hanky, whom I fear that I have left too long.
“And of course,” he continued, “I shall say all sorts of pretty things about the Mayoress—for I suppose we must not even think of her as Yram now.”
“The Mayoress,” replied Panky, “is a very dangerous woman; see how she stood out about the way in which the Sunchild had worn his clothes before they gave him the then Erewhonian dress. Besides, she is a sceptic at heart, and so is that precious son of hers.”
“She was quite right,” said Hanky, with something of a snort. “She brought him his dinner while he was still wearing the clothes he came in, and if men do not notice how a man wears his clothes, women do. Besides, there are many living who saw him wear them.”
“Perhaps,” said Panky, “but we should never have talked the King over if we had not humoured him on this point. Yram nearly wrecked us by her obstinacy. If we had not frightened her, and if your study, Hanky, had not happened to have been burned …”
“Come, come, Panky, no more of that.”
“Of course I do not doubt that it was an accident; nevertheless if your study had not been accidentally burned, on the very night the clothes were entrusted to you for earnest, patient, careful, scientific investigation—and Yram very nearly burned too—we should never have carried it through. See what work we had to get the King to allow the way in which the clothes were worn to be a matter of opinion, not dogma. What a pity it is that the clothes were not burned before the King’s tailor had copied them.”
Hanky laughed heartily enough. “Yes,” he said, “it was touch and go. Why, I wonder, could not the Queen have put the clothes on a dummy that would show back from front? As soon as it was brought into the council chamber the King jumped to a conclusion, and we had to bundle both dummy and Yram out of the royal presence, for neither she nor the King would budge an inch.
Even Panky smiled. “What could we do? The common people almost worship Yram; and so does her husband, though her fair-haired eldest son was born barely seven months after marriage. The people in these parts like to think that the Sunchild’s blood is in the country, and yet they swear through thick and thin that he is the Mayor’s duly begotten offspring—Faugh! Do you think they would have stood his being jobbed into the rangership by any one else but Yram?”
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