15 Clifford’s Inn
E.C
May 24. 1879.
Dear Sir
I am very much obliged to you for the "Miracles & Modern Spiritualism"1 wh[ich]: reached me yesterday. I have already said that I quite acknowledge the impropriety[?] of saying that other people are lying or made fools of, when they say they have seen this or that, merely because I do not happen to have come across any thing of the kind myself, [2] at the same time. I do require them not to attempt to make me see things which I have no desire to see. I am passionately fond of Handel’s music since I was a boy of ten years old I have I believe never been many hours without having some of it in my head. All day long for over 30 years it is continually present with me— I know nothing in the world which to me has been so vitally true, except the gratification of men animal want— but, my Dear Sir, I don’t want other people [3] to love Handel, when they tell me they do not like music: I find it very delightful when I come across a person whom I can recognise as "a good Handelian", but I do not expect to find sympathy in this respect [2 words illegible] men whose society must fascinate me in others— So with Spiritualism. Granted that wonderful Spirit [1 word illegible] have been seen & touched and then disappeared and that then has been no delusion, nor trickery. Well: I don’t care. I get along just nicely as I am. I don’t want to need to be with them, & I don’t want them to meddle with me. I had a very dear friend once whom [4] I believed to be dying, and so did she. We discussed the question of whether she c[oul]d communicate with me after death— "Promise" I said & very solemnly "that if you find that there are means of visiting me here on Earth— that if you can send a message to me— you will never avail yourself of the means, nor let me hear from you when you are once departed." Unfortunately, she recovered, and never forgave me. If she had died she w[oul]d have come back if she could— of that I am certain by her [1 word illegible] to me. I believe my instinct was perfectly right— and I will so further— if such a spirit form, takes to coming near me I shall not be content with trying to grasp it, but in the interest of science I will shoot it— So help me in that I [5] think most likely to be of practical use to me. Miss Buckley2 will I am sure back me up in this line I have taken namely, in saying that I will have nothing to do with the matter until I feel that inward call to do so, which if I come to feel will be obliged very properly.
Forgive me, and believe me | Yours very truly | S[amuel]. Butler3 [signature]
Samuel Butler (1835-1902). English writer and artist. After originally considering ordination he decided against it and emigrated to New Zealand in 1859. In 1864 he returned to England and settled in rooms in 15 Clifford’s Inn, Fleet Street in London where he spent the rest of his life. He is most famous for his posthumously published novel The Way of All Flesh (1903) and his
anonymously published Utopian Erewhon;
Status: Draft transcription [Letter (WCP4770.5146)]
For more information about the transcriptions and metadata, see https://wallaceletters.myspecies.info/content/epsilon
Please cite as “WCP4770,” in Beccaloni, G. W. (ed.), Ɛpsilon: The Alfred Russel Wallace Collection accessed on 27 April 2024, https://epsilon.ac.uk/view/wallace/letters/WCP4770