Preface to the Second Edition

Having been enabled by the kindness of the public to get through an unusually large edition of “Erewhon” in a very short time, I have taken the opportunity of a second edition to make some necessary corrections, and to add a few passages where it struck me that they would be appropriately introduced; the passages are few, and it is my fixed intention never to touch the work again.

Thanks to the kindness of the public, an unusually large edition of “Erewhon” sold out very quickly. I have taken the opportunity of a second edition to make some necessary corrections. I have also added a few passages where they seemed appropriate. There are only a few, and I am firmly resolved never to change the work again.

I may perhaps be allowed to say a word or two here in reference to “The Coming Race,” to the success of which book “Erewhon” has been very generally set down as due. This is a mistake, though a perfectly natural one. The fact is that “Erewhon” was finished, with the exception of the last twenty pages and a sentence or two inserted from time to time here and there throughout the book, before the first advertisement of “The Coming Race” appeared. A friend having called my attention to one of the first of these advertisements, and suggesting that it probably referred to a work of similar character to my own, I took “Erewhon” to a well-known firm of publishers on the 1st of May 1871, and left it in their hands for consideration. I then went abroad, and on learning that the publishers alluded to declined the MS., I let it alone for six or seven months, and, being in an out-of-the-way part of Italy, never saw a single review of “The Coming Race,” nor a copy of the work. On my return, I purposely avoided looking into it until I had sent back my last revises to the printer. Then I had much pleasure in reading it, but was indeed surprised at the many little points of similarity between the two books, in spite of their entire independence to one another.

Perhaps I may say a word or two here about “The Coming Race.” The success of that book has been widely credited for the success of “Erewhon.” This is a mistake, though a perfectly natural one. In fact, “Erewhon” was finished before the first advertisement for “The Coming Race” appeared. Only the last twenty pages and a few sentences inserted here and there throughout the book were added later. A friend pointed out one of the first advertisements and suggested that it probably described a work similar to mine. So, on 1 May 1871, I took “Erewhon” to a well-known publishing firm and left it for their consideration. I then went abroad. When I learned that the publishers had rejected the manuscript, I left it alone for six or seven months. I was in a remote part of Italy and never saw a single review or copy of “The Coming Race.” On my return, I deliberately avoided looking at “The Coming Race” until I had sent my final proofs back to the printer. Then I read it with great pleasure. But I was indeed surprised by the many small similarities between the two books, even though they were entirely independent of each other.

I regret that reviewers have in some cases been inclined to treat the chapters on Machines as an attempt to reduce Mr. Darwin’s theory to an absurdity. Nothing could be further from my intention, and few things would be more distasteful to me than any attempt to laugh at Mr. Darwin; but I must own that I have myself to thank for the misconception, for I felt sure that my intention would be missed, but preferred not to weaken the chapters by explanation, and knew very well that Mr. Darwin’s theory would take no harm. The only question in my mind was how far I could afford to be misrepresented as laughing at that for which I have the most profound admiration. I am surprised, however, that the book at which such an example of the specious misuse of analogy would seem most naturally levelled should have occurred to no reviewer; neither shall I mention the name of the book here, though I should fancy that the hint given will suffice.

I regret that some reviewers have treated the chapters on Machines as an attempt to make Mr. Darwin’s theory look absurd. Nothing could be further from my intention. Few things would be more distasteful to me than an attempt to laugh at Mr. Darwin. But I must admit that I have only myself to blame for the misunderstanding. I felt sure that readers would miss my intention, but I preferred not to weaken the chapters by explaining it. I also knew very well that Mr. Darwin’s theory would come to no harm. My only question was how far I could afford to be misrepresented as laughing at something I admire so profoundly. I am surprised, however, that no reviewer thought of the book that this example of the misleading misuse of analogy would most naturally seem to target. I will not name the book here either, though I imagine the hint I have given will be enough.

I have been held by some whose opinions I respect to have denied men’s responsibility for their actions. He who does this is an enemy who deserves no quarter. I should have imagined that I had been sufficiently explicit, but have made a few additions to the chapter on Malcontents, which will, I think, serve to render further mistake impossible.

Some people whose opinions I respect believe that I have denied that men are responsible for their actions. Anyone who denies this is an enemy who deserves no mercy. I would have thought I had made myself clear enough. But I have made a few additions to the chapter on Malcontents. I think these will make further misunderstanding impossible.

An anonymous correspondent (by the hand-writing presumably a clergyman) tells me that in quoting from the Latin grammar I should at any rate have done so correctly, and that I should have written “agricolas” instead of “agricolae”. He added something about any boy in the fourth form, &c., &c., which I shall not quote, but which made me very uncomfortable. It may be said that I must have misquoted from design, from ignorance, or by a slip of the pen; but surely in these days it will be recognised as harsh to assign limits to the all-embracing boundlessness of truth, and it will be more reasonably assumed that each of the three possible causes of misquotation must have had its share in the apparent blunder. The art of writing things that shall sound right and yet be wrong has made so many reputations, and affords comfort to such a large number of readers, that I could not venture to neglect it; the Latin grammar, however, is a subject on which some of the younger members of the community feel strongly, so I have now written “agricolas”. I have also parted with the word “infortuniam” (though not without regret), but have not dared to meddle with other similar inaccuracies.

An anonymous correspondent tells me that, if I quoted the Latin grammar, I should at least have done so correctly. Judging by the handwriting, the correspondent is probably a clergyman. He says I should have written “agricolas” instead of “agricolae”. He added something about any boy in the fourth form, and so on. I shall not quote that part, but it made me very uncomfortable. One might say that I misquoted deliberately, out of ignorance, or through a slip of the pen. But surely these days it would seem harsh to place limits on the all-embracing boundlessness of truth. It would be more reasonable to assume that all three possible causes played a part in the apparent blunder. The art of writing things that sound right but are wrong has made so many reputations. It also comforts so many readers that I could not dare to neglect it. However, some younger members of the community feel strongly about Latin grammar, so I have now written “agricolas”. I have also given up the word “infortuniam” (though not without regret). But I have not dared to touch other similar inaccuracies.

For the inconsistencies in the book, and I am aware that there are not a few, I must ask the indulgence of the reader. The blame, however, lies chiefly with the Erewhonians themselves, for they were really a very difficult people to understand. The most glaring anomalies seemed to afford them no intellectual inconvenience; neither, provided they did not actually see the money dropping out of their pockets, nor suffer immediate physical pain, would they listen to any arguments as to the waste of money and happiness which their folly caused them. But this had an effect of which I have little reason to complain, for I was allowed almost to call them life-long self-deceivers to their faces, and they said it was quite true, but that it did not matter.

I must ask the reader to forgive the inconsistencies in this book. I know there are quite a few. The blame, however, lies chiefly with the Erewhonians themselves, for they were a very difficult people to understand. The most glaring contradictions did not seem to trouble them intellectually. Nor would they listen to arguments about the money and happiness their folly wasted. That is, not unless they actually saw money dropping out of their pockets or suffered immediate physical pain. But this had a result that I have little reason to complain about. I was allowed to almost call them lifelong self-deceivers to their faces. They said it was quite true, but that it did not matter.

I must not conclude without expressing my most sincere thanks to my critics and to the public for the leniency and consideration with which they have treated my adventures.

Before I conclude, I must sincerely thank my critics and the public for treating my adventures with leniency and consideration.

June 9, 1872

June 9, 1872