"Let none but skilful workmen elaborate precious material."
Think not that the truly great Vyora was but little honoured by being appointed to an office connected with little children.[1]
[Footnote 1:Ante, p. 8.]
The character-divers were entrusted by me with grave duties, on the proper discharge of which depended the enduring success of my polity.
The education of the young of both sexes engaged from the first my deepest study, for I had early convinced myself that the many evils to be eradicated had their stronghold in the mode in which education had been conducted, and soon after the commencement of my reign I put into execution a portion of my laws for making education a powerful lever in the regeneration of my world.
Men of genius had been compelled by ignorance or driven by necessity to follow occupations for which they were not fitted, and which they, indeed, often loathed; the really valuable tendencies of these men, bent in an opposite direction, were allowed to run to waste, or perhaps be used to the injury and destruction of others.
I felt that to do justice to all and effect good incalculable, evil tendencies must be destroyed in their birth, the germs of the imperfections and crimes of the man, detected and eradicated in the child; whilst valuable qualities and good tendencies must be searched out, and effective means devised for their healthful development.
The most ordinary men, those even who would otherwise be swayed by gross passions, would become contented workmen in the cause of good when occupied with pursuits for which nature and education had fitted them; whilst the power and works of men of genius would be many times increased and multiplied if their education were adapted to strengthen and develop their talents, eradicate their faults, and generate auxiliary excellencies.
But how could all this be effected if the first step to so desirable an end were wanting?
In my visits to the schools I had been struck with the fact that little account was taken of the characters of children,—their qualifications and natural tendencies physical or mental: the attempt was to force the boy to the system, not to adapt the system to the boy.
One routine existed for all pupils, whether for the inculcation of the love of study or for the correction of faults. The earnest and passionate nature was treated in the same way as the cold and phlegmatic; the boy of genius or talent, as the dullard; the one who loved, as he who disliked, or had a tendency to dislike, study; the weakly, as the strong. They were all driven together like a flock of sheep, with scarcely any regard to individual capabilities, bent of genius, or physical constitution, which indeed little effort, and that ill-directed, had been made to discover.
I had observed, also, boys with the germs of great genius, who, for want of some minor quality, were rejected and perhaps placed in some lower division, humiliated and discouraged, although with care the deficient quality could have been supplied. The want of this perhaps would make the boy a recruit to the ranks of evil, or at least unfit him, when a man, for the real business of life. It was the small bolt wanting to enable the machine to do its work properly.
I saw the sad consequences of all this mismanagement.
Many precepts, beautiful indeed in intention, were crammed into the pupil, the process being repeated until they often became irksome, and he was expected to become moral and religious. I saw that precepts were of little use unless those whom they were meant to benefit were educated, fortified, and disciplined in the practical means of observing them.
It was at that time painful to see children, with many good natural tendencies, leave school with bad habits, and vices so marked and developed, that even the exertions of the most skilful physicians, the discourses of the most learned of our clergy, failed to effect a cure.
The first thing necessary was to devise effective—it may be said unerring—means to search out the characters and dispositions of children.
I created the office of "character-divers," and selected for the discharge of its duties eminent men of great sagacity and gentleness, skilled in the knowledge of the mind and heart, their sole occupation being to discover the qualities, tendencies, and incipient faults of children, and act accordingly; to dive, as it were, into the secret imaginings of the child; to detect the early germ of evil, and note the presence of good; to indicate measures for eradicating the one and developing the other.
These character—divers, called in our language "Djarke," are distinct from the masters, called "Zicche," or fathers of knowledge, able men, who have charge of the boys' studies.
The qualities which enable a preceptor to impart literary and scientific knowledge differ widely from those fitted for searching out, discriminating and correcting faults of character, interpreting the real qualities that nature has implanted in the youthful aspirant, and devising the measures to be taken for correction or development.
Even if the necessary qualities for both duties were united in one master, there would be many objections to the duties being entrusted to the same person.
The character-divers are as it were moral physicians, skilled in the detection and cure of the hidden germs of mental maladies; for, as you will see hereafter, I was not content to wait till a disease, whether of the mind or body, had developed itself, spreading contagious poison through the veins and arteries of society, and propagating evil without end; the germ was destroyed before it had acquired force to injure.
In our planet neither the faults nor the good qualities of children show themselves in the same way; the indications vary in each child according to his temperament and the circumstances in which he may be placed. Faults and qualities are often of a kind seemingly opposed to what they actually demonstrate to the character-diver—particularly in children endowed with genius.
Fair and even beautiful outcroppings are sometimes indications of noxious weeds hidden below the surface. Weeds are not unfrequently born from the very richness and exuberance of the soil, whilst many a dark and seemingly sterile stem conceals the embryo of fruit and flowers which a genial sunshine will call into life and beauty.
These and other considerations demand great—almost constant—attention on the part of the Djarke.
Another reason for separating the two offices of fathers of knowledge and character-divers is that the child's peculiarities are generally shown out of school-hours. Hence, for the purpose of detecting or tracing their real cause, and suggesting the remedy, the character-diver is often obliged to enter into terms of intimacy with the children, particularly those of tender age, to obtain their confidence, perhaps to be their playmate and friend, that the little ones may be at their ease, conceal nothing, and almost look upon him as they would upon some tame animal.
The younger children with us require more watchfulness and skill in their treatment than those of maturer age. The defects of the young, like incipient disease, are less obvious, and their intelligence is less developed.
CHARACTER-DIVERS—continued.
"Let the remedies employed be adapted to the complaint and to the constitution of the patient, and be careful that in curing one disease you do not sow the seeds of another more dangerous."
One of the duties of the character-divers is to suggest, and often to carry out, the measures for curing the child, for in our planet the mode of correcting faults is a matter of great solicitude, lest the means adopted, instead of checking and eradicating, tend to confirm and develop the evil tendency, or, it may be, implant other evils more fatal than those eradicated.
The remedies employed for curing the boy's faults vary with his temperament and general characteristics. The same fault would be treated very differently in the stupid and in the intelligent boy. Where there was difficulty of impression, the labour would be like working on stone, whilst the lightest touch and mildest measures will often suffice with the intelligent.
The remedies vary again with the kind, degree, and cause of the fault: take for instance the ordinary fault of laziness. This would be treated very differently when it arose from mental defects—from a tendency to love other things, great or grovelling, or from a sluggish or overactive digestion.
I may here mention that a general feature in the correction of faults is the absence of violent punishment. We wish to raise and not degrade our children, and perhaps implant the seeds of cruelty. We do not correct even our animals by blows. Horses, for instance, are never struck. Whips, with a small thong at the ends, are used only to flourish and to make sounds which the horse knows, but they are not used to strike the animal. Other modes are employed for curing viciousness, each according to the nature of the vice. In the case of a kicking horse, he is placed in a machine which is closed on him, the machine being so constructed that when shut it effectually prevents the animal moving, and he is kept there in the same position for hours. If, when taken out, he again kicks he is placed back again immediately. The process is repeated when necessary over and over again, until the very sight of the machine will completely cow the animal, and he is effectually cured.
The laws are very severe against those who would ill-treat an animal, but there is now no need to put them in force.
We never punish by the imposition of tasks, our aim being to inculcate the love of study, and encourage the child to regard his work as a favour and a privilege. On the contrary we now punish the student rather by taking away the old than by imposing new school work; and this is so effected that the boy, though at first delighted, soon thirsts to resume his studies.
In many cases the pupil is not allowed even to know that he is punished,—i.e., why the discipline is changed,—lest he should become attached to a fault for which he has suffered and, as it were, paid dearly; lest, too, the excitement of eluding detection should make it pleasurable to transgress when the immediate pressure is removed, and he should thus become schooled in untruthfulness and deceit.
The character-divers generally effect the child's correction by gentleness, and eventually bringing him to loathe the bad and love the good. Time, labour, and attention are bestowed unsparingly, and, however small the germ, the evil tendency is never left until, when this is possible, it is completely eradicated. In certain cases, where the footprint of nature is too firmly impressed, the efforts are continued until other and opposing qualities have been developed, and the moral patient has acquired such control over himself as to be able, in moments of temptation and impulse, to dominate the disturbing propensity.
Even after the fault seems to have been eradicated, the patient is for some time subjected to various tests and temptations before he is pronounced cured. We do not trust to superficial appearances.
Similar precautions were taken in the cure of adult offenders against the laws, but as soon as my plans had time to operate, offences by adults were of rare occurrence.
When a child gives evidence of remarkable genius, he is watched with more than jealous care, with a view to his superior refinement, and other qualities which we like to see in harmony. We do not like to see, as it were, a garment made partly of rich brocade and partly of common material.
The character-divers, too, are greatly assisted in their observations by an establishment attached to each school called "The Amusement Gallery," in which after a certain time the bent of the child, his versatility, capriciousness, constancy of purpose, and other qualities and defects are shown in his selection and continued or interrupted pursuit of any particular occupation or amusement.
It is scarcely possible to overrate the importance of acting with judgment towards children.
From the smallest beginnings, incurable defects of mind and permanent disease of body will gather strength, grow and obtain the mastery, till they carry off the sufferer, or implant vices that, like evil spirits, will torture the victim during his life's career.
Nothing is spared in the education of the future man and mother of men. In the child is seen the parent of other generations, one who, as he is well or ill-directed, will strengthen or weaken the great work of human happiness, bearing with him a blessing or a curse for the community. Therefore whatever may be the pains or expenditure required in the cure of incipient faults, as of incipient disease, we know that society will be repaid more than a thousand-fold in the happiness of its members, in evil prevented and good propagated, in the numbers of men of talent and genius whose works, teeming with great results, will be thus saved to the State.
But for the character-divers the services of numbers of men of extraordinary genius would have been lost to the State, and our world's progress in science, inventions, and happiness retarded for centuries. Nay, perhaps the then comparative civilization would have been thrown back into barbarism, through the destructive play of bad passions and disappointed hopes.
Numbers who, if their early faults had grown into confirmed vices, would later have led a life of crime, and become inhabitants of dungeons and emissaries of evil, now grew into men of great eminence. The germ of evil propensities was destroyed, the exuberant motive power of their nature regulated and turned to good, by means which the character-divers thoroughly understood.
Amongst faults, the germs of which occupied the attention of the Djarke, are the following:
Untruthfulness, dishonesty, discontent, pride, vanity, boasting, cunning, envy, deceit, whether prejudice, self-deceit, or the wish to deceive others; nervousness or fear, inducing reticence and concealment of faults, excess of modesty or the occasional tendency of persons of genius to underrate their own powers, inattention to studies, want of application, power to learn too easily, lack of retentive memory, exaggeration and boldness, bad temper, sullenness, disposition to quarrel, cowardice, cruelty, caprice as distinct from versatility, selfishness, greediness, laziness, and its various causes, and generally the germs of all faults and vicious propensities, which, if not cured at an early age, would grow into tenacious vices.
From the precautions taken in Montalluyah the schools have become real nurseries, where the pupil is endowed with knowledge adapted to his capacity and natural bent, strengthened and graced with valuable habits and stores of physical and intellectual power.
CHARACTER-DIVERS—continued.
"Respect those who would enable us to obtain the respect ofothers."
In former times the education of our children, even of the most gifted, was entrusted to preceptors who occupied less than secondary positions.
We did not respect or love them much; nay, they were not unfrequently treated with indignity, and yet it was expected that our children would respect and love them and the learning they professed to teach.
All, whether men or women, entrusted with the education of the young are now honoured in Montalluyah, and are high in the State as persons charged to bring about great and valuable results.
The aid given me by the character-divers and preceptors in carrying out my plans was incalculable. Their sagacity selected disciples apt for the duties I required; men with vast powers impelled by good. These men propagated my doctrines, and vigilantly watched their observance, and a new vigorous generation soon sprang up, educated to obey my laws, and further to increase and multiply their beneficent effects.
These moral physicians were chosen at first from men of great sagacity, gentleness, and powers of observation, and of polished manners.[1]
[Footnote 1: In Montalluyah children are supposed to acquire so much by imitation, that the candidate for the office of Djarke and others must possess refined manners; and even the quality of speaking with elegance and accuracy is considered necessary both in them and in the Zicche. The art of speaking and writing with correctness is imperceptibly acquired from the language of the preceptors and other models with whom the boy comes in frequent contact. Grammar, with the exception of a few leading rules, is not needed, and the boy's brain is saved much dry and fruitless labour.]
Young men of special aptitude were soon educated to the office, and it was then that character-divers of marvellous powers sprang up, whose knowledge of the human mind, and skill in diving into the hidden currents of character, became so great that no incipient quality, or defect however minute, could escape their observation.
There is a man whom the sagacity of Vyora discovered, whose wondrous power in his art is the admiration of Montalluyah. The good he has done and the greatness of his work in searching out and developing hidden qualities and genius in children, who to the unskilled eye gave no promise, is celebrated in pictures, in sculpture, and in song, and his portrait is repeated in the highly finished and artistic mosaic pavement of our palaces and dwellings.
We delight to enrich our houses and public places with subjects which daily inspire great and pleasureable thoughts.
The subjects of the tesselated pavements include wise kings, inventors, and discoverers, character-divers and preceptors, physicians, great electricians and chemists; astronomers, men skilfully learned in the power of the sun; men versed in the knowledge of the human mind; eminent painters, sculptors, and architects; men skilled in the properties of birds, beasts, fish, and other living things. Moral qualities are greatly estimated; and we have many portraits of women famous for their virtues, gentleness, and superiority; even of servants distinguished for remarkable cleanliness and other qualities. Every house has its tesselated pavement, more or less elaborate, but always beautifully executed, for all our artists are great, and occupy high positions.
Where a young man evinced qualities which, when tested, showed that he would make but a second-rate artist, the character-divers demonstrated that these youths possessed natural tendencies better fitting them for some other pursuit.
I have in my thoughts at this moment a favourite subject of the artistic pavement;—a man—Zolea by name—who as a boy was inattentive to his studies, while his talent for sketching from nature[1] was so remarkable, that even during school hours, with his eye seemingly on his book, he would occupy himself in sketching those around him. Every one, except the character-divers, thought that Nature intended this boy for a great artist. These demonstrated that as an artist he would never attain a high position; and after observing how he occupied himself in play-hours, and subjecting him to numerous tests, so completely cured him of his want of application and other defects, that he became the wisest and greatest among our kings. He aided me much in the devising and carrying out many things for the well-being of our planet.
[Footnote 1: All students, even beginners, sketch from nature, no other sketching is allowed.]
Had I not been the son of a king I should probably have been educated as a harpist; for even as a child I showed great disposition for the harp, and composed both words and music for my favourite instrument; but my father's chief councillor, a man of great sagacity, saw in me the germ of intellectual powers far beyond those required for the most perfect execution of the harp, and, counselled by this sage, I was led to other studies by judicious treatment, to the doubting surprise of my early tutors.
* * * * *
I will now give you some account of one of the great works begun and ended in my reign.
This work, called 'The Wonder' of my Planet, was by our poets often spoken of as resembling my polity in the strength of its foundation, and in beauty, grandeur, and stability, as a work which, like my laws, they said had saved a world from destruction, and would endure for ever!
"The City of delights. The beloved of the Angels."
The power of the sun in my world is great, and the heat and light are excessive. The great heat being, however, tempered by cooling, refreshing winds, and gushing waters, is to our constitutions generally agreeable, except at the period called the extreme season.
The colours in the sky are in great variety, and of exceeding transparency and brightness, some parts presenting masses of gorgeous reds, golden colours, rich greens, and pinks of many shades.
The skies present also the appearance of a most irregular and uneven surface—as though there were high hills, some with their peaks, some with their bases, towards the earth, and with large spaces between, so that whilst in one part these hill-peaks and bases appear only a few miles off, other parts of the sky seem very distant.
In vast mountainous and rocky regions is built our great city calledMontalluyah, that is, "God's own City."
What are called theExternal World Citiesare built on the base sides and summits of many peaked mountains, rocks, hills, and promontories, girded, intersected, and undermined by the sea.
The City is divided into 200 districts each known by a name indicative of the situation:—
The Upper Mountain City,Summit City,Topmost Point City,The Lower City,Down City,Side City,Lower Under City,Sea City,Vale City,Ravine City,Side Country,The Internal City,
and similar designations.
Before my reign each of these districts formed a separate city. Great or rather petty jealousies existed between them, and much evil was the result; for they treated each other as rivals, and often as enemies. I decreed that all the districts should be called by one name, that the inhabitants of all should enjoy the same system of laws and government, the same customs and polity, and form as it were one family. I did many things to cement the union. I executed, too, numerous great works which assisted in promoting the growth of universal brotherhood. Many cities which formerly lay at immense distances from each other, separated by intervening mountains of immense height, I united by perforating the rocks, and building spacious galleries through the hearts and bases of the mountains, and by throwing "aerial" bridges from one mountain peak to another. Henceforth I shall speak of all these cities as "Montalluyah."
Palaces and edifices of various forms, their gilded spires and minarets inlaid with many coloured transparent stones which sparkle in our brilliant sun, stand on undulating sinuous ridges, peaks, and terraces, rising one above the other in endless and irregular succession.
The houses are mostly curved, oval, or round. In Montalluyah straight lines are avoided. The houses are built principally with a white stone, mingled with a peculiar stone of a bright sky-blue colour, both stones repellent of heat.
Gardens and verdure separate the houses one from the other. Most of the gardens are arranged in curvilinear lines, the houses being placed at the central point of the inner and outer curve alternately, so that each alternate house is on the outer centre of the garden curve, and each alternate house is on the inner centre of the adjoining curve. The undulating lines of terraces are broken by gigantic masses of rock of various colours, red, green, golden, white, blue, silver, brown, and variegated—rocks of carbuncle, lapis lazuli, malachite, gold-stone, and many-coloured marbles.
These rocks and undulations are intersected by ravines, rivers, inlets of the sea, lakes, and cataracts, reflecting the many tints of the gorgeously coloured sky and the rays of our vividly bright sun, filling our city as it were with aureoles of glory.
In many parts the sea has made itself a hidden way, and runs its course for miles under the rocks, appearing again at great distances in one of the interior inland cities, perhaps at the bottom of a deep ravine or open space; and the waters are often raised and collected for use and ornament in fountains and artificial cascades called water-lifts: whilst springs of fresh water gush out of the rocks, affording refreshment to the sun-parched and many-coloured grasses, flowers, and vegetation.
Great cataracts and artificial cascades often form the background to a great building or colossal statue. The effect of these large masses of water viewed from all parts is extremely grand and beautiful.
Sometimes the ravines, rivers, cataracts, and sea-arms are passed by huge bridges of the natural rocks, perforated by the sea, or opened by man to render navigation possible. Sometimes bridges miles in length are thrown across a great cataract or immense chasm where the rocks have been relentlessly torn asunder by the lightning and other electrical disturbances.
All the large bridges are covered with houses and gardens, which at a distance seem air-suspended cities, hanging without support over rivers, cataracts, large cities, and aggregations of houses.
Everything conducive to health is attended to: the supply of water to every part of the city is unlimited, and in each house, whether of rich or poor, is a bath, for sea and for fresh water.
We have "violet streams," which run for miles over beds of violets white and blue. The water of these is preserved in tanks erected at the end of the streams, trenches being cut to assist the flow. It has a delicious flavour, and is used for various beverages, but not for culinary purposes, since, when mixed with certain things, it turns black and loses its fragrance.
Trees, plants, and flowers perfume the air with their fragrance; whilst birds of endless variety and richest plumage have their nests in the tall and wide-spreading trees of varied-coloured foliage and fill the air with their music. In the trees are placed artificial nests to entice the birds; these invite others, which build their nests spontaneously. The trees are large, their branches and rich foliage spread themselves in graceful lines to a long distance on every side and afford pleasing shade, their gauzy leaves subduing the light and producing the effect of soft rainbow tints. The trees also emit perfume.
The music of the birds harmonizes with the refreshing sounds of the running waters, cascades, and fountains; and that the effect on the mind of these beautiful harmonies may not be disturbed, the wheels of our chariots as well as the horses' hoofs are bound with a peculiar hide which, besides possessing great toughness and durability, has the property of deadening sound. Thus none but the most agreeable sounds reach the ear, whilst the senses are charmed with aromatic odours and the eye is pleased with beauty of every kind.
Arched galleries and passages through the hills and mountains, partly perforated by the sea or electric fire, and enlarged by the industry of man, have a subdued light and make an impression of another kind, the red light in these perforated roads answering to the red shade of the outer world. These galleries and openings in the rocks are used to shorten distances from one side of a mountain to another.
The whole city is full of animation. The illuminated sky, the variegated plumage of the birds, the moving myriads of human beings, clad in rich costumes of divers colours; horses, elephants, camels, and camelopards, richly caparisoned; carriages gorgeously decorated, the golden domes of the houses, the many-coloured rocks reflecting themselves in the waters and in the brilliant skies, with their own aerial peaks and mountains brilliant and bright with our powerful sunlight—all these combine to produce a gorgeous spectacle. Moreover, the constantly recurring undulations and tortuousness of the ground are so great that it is difficult to proceed for a few minutes without meeting an entire change of scenery, as though one had reached a new city.
At one moment are seen mountain peaks rising almost perpendicularly to the skies in varying height, then a little turn brings the spectator on forests of houses, with ornamental gilded domes and hives of human beings.
Overhanging rock and mountain-forms of varied colours, the skies now scarcely seen, now reflecting their gorgeous tints in the sparkling rivers, cascades, and upheaving masses of water, these and much more form a picture of which words of fire would fail to convey a sufficient idea to those accustomed to the sober, though beautifully subdued tints of your skies.
"The uplifted Mountain Arm, as though raised in anger, threatens you and your little ones with destruction…..Let all hearts unite in prayer, that Heaven may inspire your Tootmanyoso with the means of saving the world from so dire a calamity!.."
The ordinary elevation of the tides is immense. They advance and rise to a height far beyond any similar phenomenon in your planet, and the waters retire in proportion, leaving at low water many miles of seashore uncovered.
In Montalluyah the sun's electricity is very powerful. It is the power of the sun, and not of the moon, which principally influences the tides.
A huge mountain mass projects from the elevated continent of Montalluyah for miles above the sea.
The heart and base of the mountain mass had been carried away from under the higher mass by some great convulsion of nature, leaving the upper part of the mountain without support, except by its adhesion to the main continent, of which it formed part. From the point of juncture the suspended mass extends itself out horizontally in the air over cities built on the ridges, sides, and foot of the parent mountain-chain, and far beyond the extreme bounds of these cities, for miles over and parallel with the sea, at a height which from the lower cities makes the superincumbent mass rarely distinguishable from the illuminated clouds above.
The electric agencies in our world are very powerful; and it is supposed that at an early age of our world's history the mountain-foot covered with cities extended considerably beyond the land on which stand the present lower cities, and for many miles beyond the actual point to which the sea now recedes at low water, and that through a great electric disturbance, the upheaving seas of mighty waters rolled on, and, rising to an immense height—some think above the summit of the great mountain—with resistless force carried away miles of intermediate rock-land, which had till then formed the heart of the mountain.
When after some time the waters receded the mountain mass above the point of their ravages was left suspended, deprived of the support of the intermediate and nether strata, which before the upheavings of the waters had connected the plateaus and peaks of the mountain with the land beneath.
The suspended or aerial mountain stretches from the high lands of the continent horizontally through the air, just as one of your largest continents stretches into the sea. Between it and the sea below, however, is a space to be measured by miles.
The sea in subsiding did not recede to its old limits; for a part only of the miles of the lower lands between the scooped-out mountain heart and the sea was restored to the world by the retiring waters, and the heart of the mountain having been carried away and engulfed for ever, the projecting mountain mass was left suspended not only over the land now covered by the lower cities, but for miles over the sea. Neither can be approached except by proceeding first for a long distance in an opposite direction inland, until the extreme point is reached where the sea stopped its ravages on the mountain's heart; the road then leads by circuitous bendings to the land below.
On the rocky ridges of the heart or indent of the mountain, and on the part of the mountain foot restored by the sea, now stand the middle and lower cities of Montalluyah.
The hanging mountain mass, with its promontories and high hills, presents all varieties of shape and outline, and is itself intersected by rocks, ravines, cataracts, and torrents.
One great torrent runs on for many miles, and having been swelled by tributaries into an immense gathering of mighty waters, rushes impetuously seaward, to the extreme point of the suspended mountain, whence from its aerial height it falls into the sea beneath, the spray bringing refreshment to the parched atmosphere of the lower and intervening cities, built on the ridges and peaks of the sea-worn heart of the mountain. This torrent, called the Great Cataract, forms a feature of great grandeur and beauty.
On the suspended mountain itself is built a city larger than your largest capitals, called the Upper city of Montalluyah. The Lower city, nearer the sea-level, is distant vertically about three miles from the nearest under part of the projecting mountain-arm above. The cities swarm with human beings, whilst the wealth of the districts is incalculable.
Before my time many of the under parts of the suspended mountain had broken from the parent mountain arm, burying cities and their inhabitants under the masses of rock.
In the then state of science these catastrophes could scarcely have been prevented, but at that time the inhabitants of Montalluyah rarely thought of preventing accidents till after they had occurred!
Although in my reign the suspended mountain did not threaten immediate danger, I saw that unless means could be devised to support it, like catastrophes would at some time recur, and perhaps the whole mountain arm would give way, hurling the upper cities to destruction, and crushing the nether cities under its falling masses. The terrible consequences that would ensue were more appalling even in their remoteness than the most vivid imagination dared realize.
Acting therefore on the principle governing my polity—that of preventing evils—I determined to use the immense mechanical and electrical powers with which the marvellous progress of science had supplied me, to construct a work strong and durable enough to support the suspended mountain.
I assembled from all parts the mighty men of our world, men of truth and wisdom, fathers of science and knowledge, chiefs in all the principal departments; for it was provided by one of my laws that before any great work was undertaken these men should be consulted, and that, so far as was in accordance with the chief intent, the work should be carried on in harmony with the requisitions of the principal sciences.
After much thought, deliberation, and study, a stupendous work was undertaken; a work so great in the parent thought, and so wondrous in the execution, that it is looked upon by the people as the wonder of our world.
With your limited mechanical appliances, and backwardness of electrical science, you will perhaps have difficulty in realizing the practicability of such a construction.
"Let all hearts unite in gratitude to Him who sent His angels to aid us in this work.
"He inspired the directing mind, and gave strength to those that executed. He created the fire that married the two substances into one indestructible compound mass.
"Behold, and wonder!"
A circular tower, whose base above the foundation is more than a mile in diameter, and whose round walls are more than a hundred feet in thickness, is carried up from the lower land nearest to the sea-level until the head of the tower reaches and supports the projecting mountain mass above.
The diameter of the tower-head is one-third of the diameter of the base. The diminution being very gradual is scarcely perceptible, and appears to be the effect of distance. The height of the tower is the same as its circumference at the base. Our ordinary powers of vision generally exceed yours, and the light in our world is more intense; and yet the head of the tower can from the lower cities seldom be distinguished from the illuminated clouds above.
The area in the interior of the tower at the base, and for some distance above, is divided horizontally and vertically, and the compartments are used for storehouses, including the storing of scientific instruments, and for experiments connected with science. The different strata and incidents of the atmosphere at various elevations are there studied with peculiar advantage, as there are numerous landings at different distances, and we have the means of ascending and descending the whole distance, or of alighting on any of the landings by means of a machine raised and lowered by electric power.
As the work progressed, stages were constructed at different heights on which buildings were erected, where the workmen and their families lived until the task was completed, the materials and electricities used, as well as provisions and necessaries, being raised to these stages by electric power. The principal material used is the hardest and most durable substance known in our world—an amalgamated material consisting of certain proportions of iron and marble fused into a solid compact mass by the action of fire and electricity.
The blocks used were of immense size, so huge, that even with our electrical and mechanical levers, many expedients were employed to raise them to their assigned places.
Electric science had greatly advanced in my reign, and electric powers had been discovered by which the heaviest masses could be lightened temporarily, so that their specific gravity, called by us the "tenacious electricity," and its tendency to seek the sympathetic electricity of the earth was temporarily diminished, if not entirely neutralized, without injury to the mass subjected to the operation.
Though the means and end are different, the principle is not unlike that by which you often lighten the specific gravity of bodies, and even change their nature by chemical combination, the action of fire, and other expedients, the bodies often resuming their specific gravity and original form. The means we employ for lightening bodies are far more rapid and effectual, and, at the same time, the materials acted upon are less abruptly or violently changed.
Notwithstanding all our knowledge of electric and mechanical powers, our thousands of artificers employed, and all the industry and energy exerted in obedience to my will, nine of our years[1]—more than thirty of yours—were spent in the completion of this stupendous work.
[Footnote 1: Our year is not calculated like yours. The year is marked by a peculiar appearance which the sun assumes at equidistant epochs.]
The tower of itself is an object of great grandeur and beauty, and is richly ornamented. The external walls of the plinth at the base of the tower are overlaid with gold and ravine[1] metal, inlaid with large transparent stones of varied colours. The ravine metal—a metal prized beyond gold—possesses beautiful veins of colour, which change with the temperature—veins of watery green, of purple, blue, and steel. When refined, it is most beautiful. The colours are sometimes so bright that it is dazzling to look at them.
[Footnote 1: So named from being found in the great ravine, the largest ravine in Montalluyah.]
On the tower are scrolls and images of peculiar meaning, and of large characters in gold and ravine metal, ornamented with transparent stones. The sun's rays playing on these stones, and particularly on a large yellow stone like an amethyst, illuminates the column with what may be called a supernatural light.
Alternating with the scrolls are designs representing episodes in my life and reign. These designs are in pure white marble in relief, and with the light of our world stand out prominently from the iron-marble, sufficiently large to be plainly seen at great distances from nearly all parts of the city. The proposal for thus recording the events of my reign came from the kings and people who loved me greatly.
As before observed, a person can be raised from the base to the top of the column, and through a shaft into the Upper city. The movement is rapid, and takes less than half an hour either way, whilst the journey by our external roads, by reason of the circuits to be taken, and the ascents and descents would, even to descend, occupy two days on a fleet horse. The passage through the Tower, however, is seldom used either for ascent or descent, except in cases of great emergency, because the great difference of the atmosphere above and below materially affects the health of the passenger.
The machinery, too, in the descent requires much care and calculation, for the weight of the descending body would otherwise increase to such an extent, that accidents would occur.
The difference of the atmosphere and the effect on the human frame between the Upper and Lower cities is remarkable; those accustomed to live in the Lower city have a disposition to spring from their feet when first arriving in the Upper city. I recollect a lady—rather weakly—who seemed mad, but was rational enough; only she could not for some time resist the impulse of springing upwards.
This mode of communication would perhaps have been more resorted to had we not possessed the telegraph. The electric telegraph is, in its rapidity, not unlike that used in your world, but is different in construction and mode of working. What is written at one station is reproduced in its exact size and form at another. Even a portrait designed at one end of the telegraph with the electric acid would be instantaneously reproduced at the other end, perhaps many hundred miles distant.
At different stages of the Tower the colour of the atmosphere sensibly changes. This phenomenon is caused by certain minute particles which contain animalcula, or their ova, and exist at different distances in layers, and which as they are developed and become heavier have a tendency to fall into lower regions of the atmosphere, till they awaken into life under the influence of the sun. Blights, called by us Viscotae, "infectious visitors," are often thus generated, falling from layer to layer till they settle on plants and trees.
These ova, moved by the winds, are sometimes mixed together, but when the winds subside the more advanced and heaviest tend to settle in the lower regions of the air just as the heaviest particles of a mixture have a tendency to sink and settle below.
All this has been shown beyond doubt by a quantity of air being collected when falling fast, and at different times and altitudes. Each portion of air being secured in a separate glass case, the ova were then viewed through our powerful microscopes, and subjected to various tests.
The Mountain Supporter, which can be seen from nearly every part of the Middle and Lower cities of Montalluyah, is an object of inconceivable grandeur and beauty, its appearance varying according to the point whence it is seen.
This great work often seems broken into numerous parts of varied length, by mountains, rocks, and ravine sides, raising their heads between it and the spectator. Often, particularly when the clouds have been high, and the sky has been clear, I have seen from a distance parts of the huge Mountain Supporter seemingly broken into vertical lines towards the middle and lower parts in a way that, in conjunction with the upper parts, has produced an effect like that of an immense flower raising its head towards the skies, supported by a long stalk resting on many elegant but slender tendrils.
The grandeur and beauty of the tower is, if possible, heightened by the Great Cataract, in conjunction with which it is almost invariably seen. The falling waters vie with the Mountain Supporter in breadth, and overtop it by the height from which they are hurled; the one firm, stately, and magnificent in its solidity and repose, the other vapoury and grand in its gracefulness and movement; both inconceivably beautiful; the Cataract, a work of all-powerful Providence, whose wise purposes no one can scan in their entirety; the Supporter symbolizing the inspired genius of man, who, with the beneficent purpose of saving innumerable lives from destruction, had, by the sweat of his brow, constructed a work more stable than the solid rock,—work whose head might be said to "reach unto Heaven."
"A spark of Heaven power."
In the construction of the Mountain Supporter you will have perceived that we were greatly aided by our extended knowledge of electricity.
Before my reign, although electricity was used for some purposes, the existence of varieties in electricity, and the manifold uses to which their wondrous powers could be applied, were unknown.
Electricity was not then utilised for locomotion either on land or sea, or for raising ponderous bodies to an immense height, or in the various products of manufacture and art, or, in short, for any of the almost innumerable purposes where the various electricities are now employed, either separately or in combination.
This could not well be otherwise; for beyond a contrivance like your Leyden jar, for collecting "air electricity," no means of collecting, still less concentrating, electricity of any kind then existed.
The belief once generally entertained was, that there were but two electricities, or rather two varieties of the same electricity, one repellent and the other attractive, answering in a measure to your terms of positive and negative. Some, indeed, thought that several different kinds existed; but the renowned electricians—truly great men, for they had opened the gates of science—proclaimed that all electricities were in reality one and the same, modified only by accidents.
They referred to certain phenomena always resembling each other in whatever way the electricity producing them might be generated; and they argued, with an appearance of truth, that the electricity which produced these similar phenomena must be one and the same: for, asked they, are not like causes indicated by like effects? The principle was right, but, as was subsequently shown, the application and the conclusion were wrong. The error had arisen from the fact that electricities of every kind possess certain properties in common: thus, air electricity enters into the composition of them all. These common properties produce phenomena varying only in degree, but so similar to each other that, in the absence of further knowledge, the electricians concluded that their theory was correct, and, in consequence, many valuable discoveries were retarded for centuries.
In my reign, however, tangible and visible proofs established beyond doubt that every kind of body and substance, whether animate or inanimate, contains an electricity of its own.
Although all electricities contain air electricity, and are similar in some other respects, yet each differs from all others by reason of some properties peculiar to itself, the species being different, though the genus is the same. As in the case of the blood of animals, which is called by the common name of blood in spite of material differences, when the species is different, so we have a generic name for all electricities, a term signifying "A spark of Heaven power."
Some electricities are diffused and attenuated; some are concentrated; others are so tenacious of the body to which they belong that they are all but steadfast. Some are sympathetic; some antipathetic, attracting or repelling each other; some mingle gently; others, when brought into contact, cause violent explosions.
WE discovered the means of drawing out the various electricities from the body to which they are appetent, and of concentrating and preserving them for use.
Man, beasts, birds, insects, fish, reptiles, trees, plants, water, in short, all substances organic and inorganic, possess each its own peculiar electricity. In naming fish, I refer to each species, and not merely to those already known to you as electrical, and which have the power of emitting strong currents of their own peculiar electricity. A huge fish, well known on your earth, supplies us with the most powerful of all electricities—an electricity of immense value. Docks sufficiently large are built expressly where the sea monster is driven, there to be subjected to the process by which he is made to yield up the electricity contained in his huge frame.
The different kinds of electricity collected and concentrated are stored ready for use in a large building called "The Electric Store-house,"— the electricities, secured in non-conducting pouches, being placed in separate compartments. This is the more necessary, since explosions arise when antagonistic electricities come into contact with each other, and the commingling of sympathetic electricities deteriorates their quality. For that reason care is taken to keep out light. By the electricity of light most other electricities are affected.
To the storehouse are attached extensive grounds for experiments and for exhibitions, which at the same time delight and instruct the people. I should observe that beautiful as well as humorous effects are produced by certain electrical combinations. By means of sympathetic action living bodies can be attracted and raised without removing their inherent electricity, as you attract light substances with the magnet or the electricity known to you.
The kind of electricity by which the body to be operated upon will be best attracted is well understood in Montalluyah. As a simple example, I will state that wild birds are caught by means of a sympathetic electricity. For this purpose a long, hollow metal tube is used, at the bottom of which is a globe containing a powerful acid. A receptacle at the top of the tube contains seeds much liked by the birds. They hover about these seeds, and, when they are within a certain distance, a slight pressure on a wooden spring causes a drop of the acid in the globe to escape into the tube, and so to set in movement a current of electricity, which, being very sympathetic to the bird, acts as an attractor so powerful, that it cannot get away. The tube is then gently lowered, and the birds are gradually drawn near to the earth, when a light net is thrown over the captives, and they are shaken into a cage-net at the bottom. Calmed by the electricity, they do not flutter or struggle when thus secured. It is very interesting to see the birds come nearer and nearer as the rod is lowered towards the ground.
For electrical purposes it is necessary to catch the birds alive. Those required for food are also caught in the same way, that they may be killed without pain, as, indeed, are all birds and animals used for food. Birds supply an electricity for lightening ponderous bodies; and by means of this, the immense blocks of iron-marble used for the construction of the Mountain Supporter were temporarily lightened, that they might be raised to their assigned places.
"Cause not pain, lest you yourselves be afflicted."
From a small pet-bird of pink and green plumage, called in our language the Nebo, is extracted an electricity known as the "Pain-luller."
The preparations previously used, though very serviceable, did not fulfil all requisites, and they so seriously suspended the vital action, that the patient often died in consequence. By means of the "pain-luller" vivisection and the most difficult surgical operations can be performed safely and painlessly, without any part of the system being affected by the action of the "pain-luller," with the exception of the nerves of sensation. We knew that the feeling of pain in animals depends on the action of a particular set of nerves. When this pain-lulling electricity is introduced into body, it is attracted to the nerves of sensation, and the sense of feeling remains suspended during several hours, whilst the other nerves and muscles—as, indeed, all the rest of the organization—continue to perform their functions as in their normal state.
In vivisection the animal's eyes are bandaged, so that he does not even know what is going on, but is free from pain, whilst all the springs of action, with the one exception, remain in their normal state. This would not be the case if the animal suffered from acute pain and terror during the operation. The continued energy of the functions is thought essential to the complete success of the operation, whether on the human frame or in vivisection.
The efficacy of the "pain-luller" was discovered by an accident. A little girl carrying a pet Nebo was knocked down, and the wheel of a chariot passed over her legs. In a convulsive effort to save her pet, the child pressed it to her bosom with so much force that she broke, the bird's skin. When the people ran to her assistance, and lifted her up, they found that both her legs were broken. To the surprise of all, she did not cry, but only asked to be taken to her mother, and continued to press the bird to her breast. From kindness, those near wished to take away the bird, but the girl would not loose her hold.
The doctors were astonished; for the severity of the fractures would ordinarily have caused acute pain, more particularly during the setting of the bones. The child, however, though quite conscious of what was passing, did not suffer in the least, but continued to pet her little bird.
After many experiments, my scientific men found that this entire absence of pain was due to the Nebo's electricity, which had escaped by the breaking of its skin. This electricity, attracted by the nerves of sensation, had entered the child's body when she pressed the pet convulsively to her bosom, the seat of great sensibility. The electricity only suspended the sense of feeling, but did not affect any other part of the child's system.
"The same Almighty Power that governs the universe of worldsgoverns the minutest particles of creation….In both is shown Hisinfinite power."
The properties of our Microscopes (as of other optical instruments) are wondrously increased by the aid of an electricity called "concentrated light." [1]
[Footnote 1: In Montalluyah light in the ordinary stateis said to be a highly attenuated electricity.]
In our fields is found a little worm, whose body is surrounded by a beautiful and powerful light, visible by day and by night.
While meditating on the cause of this phenomenon, it occurred to me that the light was probably attracted and concentrated round the little creature by its own electricity. After many experiments, my great electricians found that this was the case, and many valuable discoveries were the result.
A machine, called the "Enticer," charged with electricity abstracted from this worm, is placed in a high open spot, and light is attracted and concentrated in a marvellous manner. When the pouch for receiving the concentrated light is fully charged, and secured against the action of other electricities, it is detached from the machine, and its contents are preserved for use. The appearance of concentrated light is that of a beautiful halo.
The power of music, beyond that derived from its mere execution, is greatly influenced by the amount of electricity infused into the sounds by the performer; and in our planet the human voice has often been known to soothe, and sometimes to restore, a disordered brain, by awakening the powers of some dormant division, when the electricity accompanying the sounds is sympathetic with the light in the brain of the listener. The human voice, other things being equal, is more electrical than sounds from musical instruments; for in the one case the emanations of light come direct from the living singer, whilst in the latter instance the electricity coming from the executant passes by contact with the instrument, and is thus transmitted through an intermediate conductor. The beauty and effect of many of our musical instruments, and particularly of the harp, are greatly increased by the application of electricity.
A skilful executant on our harp can assuage the passions of a multitude,—nay, he can excite many of the aspirations and sensibilities ascribed in your legends to Orpheus and other mythical personages.
It is thought in Montalluyah,—though it was never demonstrated,—that a modification of concentrated light forms the point of union between the immortal soul and the perishable portions of man.
There is concentrated light—the very essence of light—within ourselves, particularly in the brain, to which the light, having travelled about the body, is conveyed, through the instrumentality of the blood, to the nerves and other organs.
In speaking of the brain, we often use words belonging to vision. Until the discovery of "concentrated light," we did not know how truthful were these expressions, one of which in our language answers to the "mind's eye." The eye as well as the brain contains concentrated light, and physical impressions received through the visual organs are by this electricity immediately conveyed to the sympathetic "light" of the brain.
By the application of concentrated light we can even increase for a time the intellectual powers, or, rather, we can strengthen the instrument through which the intellectual powers are manifested.
The possession of concentrated light led to the discovery of the exact mode in which the brain acts in the living man. By experiments on transparent fish of the zoophyte class, and on the eyes of animals, we discovered the means of making a living body for a time transparent. The skull was rendered transparent accordingly, and by the aid of concentrated light and of an instrument called an "electric viewer," the currents of electricity in the brain were made visible.
These currents include myriads of electrical lines—literally composed of electricity—lines the nearest approach to your definition of a mathematical line, that which hath length without breadth.
The filaments, as we may truly call them, are of different forms, straight, spiral, and otherwise curved, and of varied length and colours. They are set in motion by the impulsion of thought. When we talked to the patient on a particular subject, one series of lines would be set in motion with indescribable rapidity; other topics would call into play other series of straight or curved lines. They can also be set in motion under the influence of certain electricities.
Although the experiments on the living man proved very valuable, they could not be conducted with impunity, and were therefore not often repeated. The man operated upon was insensible for some time afterwards, and felt the effects for years. He was, however, cared for during the rest of his life, and was not expected to work. Moreover, every kind of comfort, luxury, and amusement was provided for him and for a certain number of relatives and friends whom he selected as companions. Still he was not allowed to marry, that being one of the principal conditions to which he subscribed on being chosen for the experiment from amongst a host of candidates to whom all the serious consequences attending the operation were made known.