Twenty-One Days in India; and, the Teapot Series
WITH THE VICEROY [August 2, 1879.] It is certainly a little intoxicating to spend a day with the Great Ornamental. You do not see much of him perhaps; but he is a Presence to be felt, something floating loosely about in wide epicene pantaloons and flying skirts, diffusing as he passes the fragrance of smile and pleasantry and cigarette. The air around him is laden with honeyed murmurs; gracious whispers play about the twitching bewitching corners of his delicious mouth. He calls everything by "soft names in many a mused rhyme." Deficits, Public Works, and Cotton Duties are transmuted by the alchemy of his gaiety into sunshine and songs. An office-box on his writing-table an office-box is to him, and it is something more: it holds cigarettes. No one knows what sweet thoughts are his as Chloe flutters through the room, blushful and startled, or as a fresh beaker full of the warm South glows between his amorous eye and the sun. "I have never known
principle, as those which have already been used to elucidate the
categorical imperative and its formula would all serve for the like
purpose here.
Looking back now on all previous attempts to discover the
principle of morality, we need not wonder why they all failed. It
was seen that man was bound to laws by duty, but it was not observed
that the laws to which he is subject are only those of his own giving,
though at the same time they are universal, and that he is only
bound to act in conformity with his own will; a will, however, which
is designed by nature to give universal laws. For when one has
conceived man only as subject to a law (no matter what), then this law
required some interest, either by way of attraction or constraint,
since it did not originate as a law from his own will, but this will
was according to a law obliged by something else to act in a certain
manner. Now by this necessary consequence all the labour spent in
finding a supreme principle of duty was irrevocably lost. For men
never elicited duty, but only a necessity of acting from a certain
interest. Whether this interest was private or otherwise, in any
case the imperative must be conditional and could not by any means
be capable of being a moral command. I will therefore call this the
principle of autonomy of the will, in contrast with every other
which I accordingly reckon as heteronomy.
WITH THE VICEROY [August 2, 1879.] It is certainly a little intoxicating to spend a day with the Great Ornamental. You do not see much of him perhaps; but he is a Presence to be felt, something floating loosely about in wide epicene pantaloons and flying skirts, diffusing as he passes the fragrance of smile and pleasantry and cigarette. The air around him is laden with honeyed murmurs; gracious whispers play about the twitching bewitching corners of his delicious mouth. He calls everything by "soft names in many a mused rhyme." Deficits, Public Works, and Cotton Duties are transmuted by the alchemy of his gaiety into sunshine and songs. An office-box on his writing-table an office-box is to him, and it is something more: it holds cigarettes. No one knows what sweet thoughts are his as Chloe flutters through the room, blushful and startled, or as a fresh beaker full of the warm South glows between his amorous eye and the sun. "I have never known