treated
those he met in daily life in the same spirit: it was what he found
them to be that attracted or repelled him; what others thought about
them was of little or no consequence.

And now, at the end of his life, his thoughts reverted to the two
subjects which had occupied him more than thirty years previously--
namely, Erewhon and the evidence for the death and resurrection of
Jesus Christ. The idea of what might follow from belief in one
single supposed miracle had been slumbering during all those years
and at last rose again in the form of a sequel to Erewhon. In
Erewhon Revisited Mr. Higgs returns to find that the Erewhonians now
believe in him as a god in consequence of the supposed miracle of
his going up in a balloon to induce his heavenly father to send the
rain. Mr. Higgs and the reader know that there was no miracle in
the case, but Butler wanted to show that whether it was a miracle or
not did not signify provided that the people believed it to be one.
And so Mr. Higgs is present in the temple which is being dedicated
to him and his worship.

The existence of his son George was an after-thought and gave
occasion for the second leading idea of the book--the story of a
father trying to win the love of a hitherto unknown son by risking
his life in order to show himself worthy of it--and succeeding.

Butler's health had already begun to fail, and when he started for
Sicily on Good Friday, 1902, it was for the last time: he knew he
was unfit to travel, but was determined to go, and was looking
forward to meeting Mr. and Mrs. J. A. Fuller Maitland, whom he was
to accompany over the Odyssean scenes at Trapani and Mount Eryx.
But he did not get beyond Palermo; there he was so much worse that
he could not leave his room. In a few weeks he was well enough to
be removed to Naples, and Alfred went out and brought him home to
London. He was taken to a nursing home in St. John's Wood where he
lay for a month, attended by his old friend Dr. Dudgeon, and where
he died on the 18th June, 1902.

There was a great deal he still wanted to do. He had intended to
revise The Way of All Flesh, to write a book about Tabachetti, and
to publish a new edition of Ex Voto with the mistakes corrected.
Also he wished to reconsider the articles reprinted in this volume
and was looking forward to painting more sketches and composing more
music. While lying ill and very feeble within a few days of the
end, and not knowing wh