The Autobiography of Mark Rutherford, Edited by his friend Reuben ShapcottWhite, William Hale
General
The Autobiography of Mark Rutherford, Edited by his friend Reuben Shapcott
White, William Hale
Religious fiction
“At last, by the greatest piece of good fortune, I was obliged to go
abroad. The change, and the obligation to occupy myself about many
affairs, was an incalculable blessing to me. While travelling I was
struck with the remarkable and tropical beauty of the insects, and
especially of the butterflies. I captured a few, and brought them home.
On showing them to a friend, learned in such matters, I discovered that
they were rare, and I had a little cabinet made for them. I looked into
the books, found what it was which I had got, and what I had not got.
“Next year it was my duty to go abroad again, and I went with some
feeling akin to pleasure, for I wished to add to my store. I increased
it considerably, and by the time I returned I had as fine a show as any
private person might wish to possess. A good deal of my satisfaction,
perhaps, was unaccountable, and no rational explanation can be given of
it. But men should not be too curious in analysing and condemning any
means which Nature devises to save them from themselves, whether it be
coins, old books, curiosities, butterflies, or fossils. And yet my
newly-acquired passion was not altogether inexplicable. I was the owner
of something which other persons did not own, and in a little while, in
my own limited domain, I was supreme. No man either can study any
particular science thoroughly without transcending it; and it is an utter
mistake to suppose that, because a student sticks to any one branch, he
necessarily becomes contracted.
“However, I am not going to philosophise; I do not like it. All I can
say is, that I shun all those metaphysical speculations of former years
as I would a path which leads to madness. Other people may be able to
occupy themselves with them and be happy; I cannot. I find quite enough
in my butterflies to exercise my wonder, and yet, on the other hand, my
study is not a mere vacant, profitless stare. When you saw me that
morning, I was trying to obtain an example which I have long wanted to
fill up a gap. I have looked for it for years, but have missed it. But
I know it has been seen lately where we met, and I shall triumph at
last.”
A good deal of all this was to me incomprehensible. It seemed mere
solemn trifling compared with the investigation of those great questions
with which I had been occupied, but I could not resist the contagion of
my friend’s enthusiasm when he took me to his little library and
identified his treasures with pride, pointing out at the same time those
in which he was deficient. He was specially exultant over one minute
creature which he had caught himself, which he had not as yet seen
figured, and he proposed going to the British Museum almost on purpose to
see if he could find it there.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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