1863. Nor can I pretend to see far into the matter even now; for
when I think of life, I find it so difficult, that I take refuge in
death or mechanism; and when I think of death or mechanism, I find it
so inconceivable, that it is easier to call it life again. The only
thing of which I am sure is, that the distinction between the organic
and inorganic is arbitrary; that it is more coherent with our other
ideas, and therefore more acceptable, to start with every molecule as
a living thing, and then deduce death as the breaking up of an
association or corporation, than to start with inanimate molecules
and smuggle life into them; and that, therefore, what we call the
inorganic world must be regarded as up to a certain point living, and
instinct, within certain limits, with consciousness, volition, and
power of concerted action. It is only of late, however, that I have
come to this opinion.

One must start with a hypothesis, no matter how much one distrusts
it; so I started with man as a mechanism, this being the strand of
the knot that I could then pick at most easily. Having worked upon
it a certain time, I drew the inference about machines becoming
animate, and in 1862 or 1863 wrote the sketch of the chapter on
machines which I afterwards rewrote in "Erewhon." This sketch
appeared in the Press, Canterbury, N.Z., June 13, 1863; a copy of it
is in the British Museum.

I soon felt that though there was plenty of amusement to be got out
of this line, it was one that I should have to leave sooner or later;
I therefore left it at once for the view that machines were limbs
which we had made, and carried outside our bodies instead of
incorporating them with ourselves. A few days or weeks later than
June 13, 1863, I published a second letter in the Press putting this