"One monkey examining another monkey for
fleas.
"And what, after all, does our dissecting pen lay bare?" he continued.
"Human nature? or merely some more or less unsavoury undergarment,
disguising and disfiguring human nature? There is a story told of an
elderly tramp, who, overtaken by misfortune, was compelled to retire for
a while to the seclusion of Portland. His hosts, desiring to see as much
as possible of their guest during his limited stay with them, proceeded
to bath him. They bathed him twice a day for a week, each time learning
more of him; until at last they reached a flannel shirt. And with that
they had to be content, soap and water proving powerless to go further.
"That tramp appears to me symbolical of mankind. Human Nature has worn
its conventions for so long that its habit has grown on to it. In this
nineteenth century it is impossible to say where the clothes of custom
end and the natural man begins. Our virtues are taught to us as a branch
of 'Deportment'; our vices are the recognised vices of our reign and set.
Our religion hangs ready-made beside our cradle to be buttoned upon us by
loving hands. Our tastes we acquire, with difficulty; our sentiments we
learn by rote. At cost of infinite suffering, we study to love whiskey
and cigars, high art and classical music.
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