"Cure all evils in their early germ, so shall ye be spared endless suffering."
Physicians take very high rank in Montalluyah; they are furnished with palaces and gardens; their revenue is great; they are wholly provided for by the State, since on their knowledge and efforts depend greatly the prolongation of life, the prevention of disease and suffering, the preservation of beauty, and of invaluable nerve and brain power. As in the moral, so in the physical constitution, the aim is to discover and crush evils in their germ, before they have taken proportions dangerous to the individual and to the community.
Formerly the chief duty of physicians was to wait patiently until disease had worked great and even fatal mischief. Their chief occupation now is to preserve the patient's health and prevent disease, and if, from any but accidental causes, any one fell ill, it would be a disgrace to them. They were formerly called by a name answering to "Disease Doctors," whilst they are now known by a term signifying "Health Guardians."
Prior to seasons formerly unhealthy, the physicians make visitations from house to house. With the aid of powerful microscopes, they examine the minute particles of the perspiration issuing through the pores. The perspiration, being the result of efforts made by the system to throw off impurities, indicates whether the patient is in good health, or whether there is a tendency to disease. The state of the perspiration, though varying greatly, does not always show the exact nature of the malady; for many diseases present the same appearances, and, in that case, tests are applied, which do not fail to indicate to what malady the impurities belong.
To give an instance: There is a disease of the lungs called Scrofiuska, which impedes respiration, and is besides often attended with cough, emaciation of the body, and other symptoms like those that accompany consumption, for which indeed it was formerly mistaken. It is now well known to be a different disease, requiring different treatment. In scrofiuska the lungs swell inwardly, but tubercles are not generated, and, unlike consumption, this disease can be cured even when at its height. I recollect a bad case, early in my reign, where our physicians, mistaking the complaint for confirmed consumption, declared that the right lung was gone. A short time afterwards the real nature of the disease was discovered, and the patient was completely restored to health.
In both complaints, however, the perspiration, when viewed through our microscopes, presents exactly the same appearance. In consumption, and to a greater extent in scrofiuska, the lungs are covered with a web-like moisture, portions of which are thrown off by the system with the perspiration.
The ordinary appearance of perspiration in a healthy state is that of an oleaginous liquid consistency resembling, say, a thin cream; but the water exuded by the lungs has the appearance of dew, and is indeed called by a term signifying "lung-dew." It does not amalgamate with the oleaginous part of the perspiration.
Our doctors at first thought that they could detect incipient consumption from the appearance of this dew, whilst they had only ascertained that the germs of some one of several diseases existed in the system. For although the presence of lung-dew in any quantity gives intimation that all is not right, the specific malady is not indicated with certainty. The application of certain tests to the patient is necessary to discover the particular disease with the incipient germs of which he is afflicted.
Disease and contagion difficult to deal with in their advanced stages, when they have already made their presence known by symptoms too palpable to be disregarded, are easily mastered in their germ.
To collect the perspiration, a little instrument, called "the scraper," is passed over the skin, and at each turn deposits the perspiration in an air-tight receptacle attached to the instrument.
The blood was found to be but a partial test of disease, for there is much in the body which does not mingle with the blood, whilst the perspiration contains impurities thrown off by every part of the organization, and, when examined through our microscopes, never fails to give warning.
At the same time the blood is the subject of deep study in Montalluyah; and every point connected with its component parts, colour, circulation, heat, quality, purification, is thoroughly understood.
The physicians sometimes examine the breath. With this view, the patient breathes on a little instrument saturated with a preparation which condenses and retains the breath. Ample opportunity is thus afforded for its microscopic examination, and for the discovery of the unhealthy particles with which the breath may be impregnated.
"Think not others blind because ye will not see….The concentrated light of the soul is not visible to the naked eye."
The microscope also led to the discovery of the incipient causes of madness, by the facility it afforded us for the dissection and examination of the minutest portions of the numerous divisions of the brain.
Before my laws came into operation the incipient symptoms of monomania were rarely noticed, and many were driven into confirmed madness and crime by neglect or improper treatment, whilst some of the supposed lunatics were really wiser than their keepers or the doctors who attended them. It often happened that the aspirations of a superior mind were mistaken for indications of the malady, and led to the incarceration of the supposed lunatic. For instance, a poor man, who lived in the reign of my predecessor, thought, and truly thought, that electricity might be used as a motive power for the heaviest bodies, and supply the place of wood used as fuel in manufactures. He also thought that electricity, then impalpable to the senses, was the material ingredient affecting the weight and coherence of bodies. People laughed at what they supposed to be illusions, and there the matter might have stopped; but the poor man persisted in his assertions that the sun contained electricity, which could be attracted, concentrated, and applied to various purposes. He appealed to the well-known fact, that the sun ripens the fruits of the earth, changes the colours of substances, affects the brain, and produces many wondrous phenomena without visible contact. His lucubrations, instead of suggesting experiment, were received with derision, and the man himself was cruelly treated, his very persistency in the truth convincing the world that he was a confirmed madman. In vain he appealed to the officers charged to visit the monomaniacs, and, in spite of all his efforts, he died in a lunatic asylum.
So dangerous, indeed, was it formerly to announce new ideas opposed to those already received, that we had a proverb to the effect, that he was not mad who had "droll" thoughts, but he was so who told them to the world. The proverb is now somewhat reversed, and he is thought wicked who, being favoured with gleams of light, allows them to perish with him.
Accompanying all laws, I gave to the people my reasons at length for their promulgation, together with answers to anticipated objections; and in the exposition of the laws relating to madness I bid them recollect that had I endeavoured to put my thoughts into action some years earlier, I should undoubtedly have suffered similar persecution to those under which many others had succumbed.
Monomania is not now assumed, as formerly, from the seeming extravagance or supposed absurdity of people's words; for it is well known in Montalluyah that thoughts which a few years before were scoffed at as the height of absurdity are now acknowledged facts, and they who could doubt the existence of the now familiar phenomena would alone be thought mad! It is known, too, that people often say strange things from confused or indistinct recollections of what has befallen them in a prior state of existence, or from prenotion or intuition of things as yet unknown to others; and although in the sciences we accept nothing as conclusive that is not confirmed by experiment, the vastness or strangeness of the thought, far from attracting ridicule, generally leads to inquiry, experiments, and results. Many of our great discoveries have been suggested by hints which formerly would have seemed the ravings of a disordered mind.
With our microscopes we have been enabled to examine and dissect all the minutest divisions of the brain, each of which responds to certain trains of thought, and to ascertain the physical cause of madness.
This knowledge enables us to discriminate with certainty, to detect the existence, nature, and locality of the germ, and apply effectual remedies during the earliest tendency to the malady. Until this discovery was made, I took effectual means for curing the numbers in whose brains madness had already been developed. I erected many great buildings, where each patient was separated from the others, for in Montalluyah madness is thought to be more or less contagious; but after I had reigned some years the deserted divisions only served to show for what purpose they had been formerly used, and, with one single exception, kept in case of need, these buildings are now appropriated to other purposes.
Amongst the discoveries that astonished the brain-doctors and mind-tamers was the following:—It was formerly thought that the disease existed in theoverworked, portion of the brain; but this was found to be an error, inasmuch as the disease exists in those parts of the brain which have lain dormant or have been little used. From these the oleaginous fluids essential to their life and activity are drawn to supply the overworked portion, which remains in full health and power. The doctors admitted that their original belief would alone suffice to account for their having failed to cure so many cases of madness.
The heat of the climate, the power of the sun, the then excessive use of stimulants, and the excitability of the people,—whose pulsation is more rapid than yours,—all tended formerly to augment the victims of the scourge.
"Seek diligently and you will find healthful good even in noxiousthings."
In Montalluyah learned men are employed wholly in the study of the properties of insects, for these contain valuable electricities.
Colonies of insects, brought by the storms, formerly destroyed whole crops, till a simple mode was discovered for protecting our fields and capturing the marauders.
It was ascertained what plant the insects liked most. This, fortunately, proved to be a common plant—one that could be produced in great abundance. Large beds of it are grown in a place concealed as much as possible from view. Amongst the coveted flowers is sprinkled a strong scent, which attracts the insects, who, finding the plant they like so much, congregate there, abandoning entirely the other plants.
We have gauze of a very fine and yet strong texture, with which nets are formed. One half of the net is laid over the plant-bed when certain winds foretell the coming of the insects, and as soon as these have covered the favourite plant, the top of the net, moved by a spring from either side, closes over and secures the swarm. Where not necessary to secure the insects alive, we sprinkle over the attractive plant-beds a strong poison, which is itself extracted from insects.
There are at times certain impurities in places very difficult of access. Swarms of insects, secured in immense cages, are brought as near as can be to the spot. The cages opened, the insects instantly rush out in swarms, and soon consume everything that has produced the noxious exhalations. All insects,—indeed all created things,—have, in Montalluyah, some properties useful to man.
After some years had passed, and my laws had time to operate, disease and crime were reduced to the smallest proportions. Life is now prolonged to a period which, before my reign, would have been thought fabulous, and people rarely die but of old age.
Man's progress having become a pleasant journey, I was encouraged to believe that the traveller might be enabled to quit the world without the ordinary death-struggle and convulsion, and with his expiring faculties so refreshed, that he would give his last directions with a clear brain and a cheerful heart.
From a little insect, my men of science extracted a material from which is prepared a potion agreeable to the taste. This is administered to the patient as soon as the physicians are satisfied that life is ebbing fast; and it, at the same time, calms and rouses the dying man.
Within five minutes after it has been taken, all signs of suffering disappear, and the countenance acquires a calm expression, succeeded by a smile of joy rarely seen in the most perfect health. The faculties of the dying man are brightened, and his sensations rendered delightful. He looks calmly on death, makes his dispositions with the serenity of robust health, converses familiarly with those dear to him, gives them his blessing, and passes away as though he were leaving only for a short and pleasant journey. I have seen many exhort their children and relatives, and speak of their departure for another world with an eloquence seldom heard on other occasions.
The effect of the potion on a person in full health is very different; it stimulates and excites, and is altogether prejudicial; and although it would rather do good than harm to a weakly person, its great virtues are only shown when taken by a man in his last moments. Where it is desirable merely to calm or to rouse, there are other and more effectual preparations.
"Let the great be blessed for the joy they cause to fall on the world like refreshing dews."
There are two seasons in our world—the one called "moderate," the other "extreme." In the extreme season the heat is far beyond the most powerful heat prevailing in your tropics. Special precautions are then necessary to preserve the health of the people. None are allowed to expose themselves to the sun during the greater part of the day; a cooling regimen is enjoined, and animal food is forbidden for a certain period. In both seasons the light by day is intense; its nearest approach to colour is a warm, bright, golden hue, not the cold, white, greyish hue of your climates; and its red shades are sufficient to light our caverns and passages through the rocks to a certain distance.
Those who confer large benefits on the world are naturally entitled to enjoy a portion of the wealth and well-being they have successfully laboured to increase.
This truth I constantly bore in mind, and in spacious galleries perforating the rocks I built the Trombetski, or Internal Cities, for the especial use of those whose superior intelligence had been occupied for the good of the world. Here, sheltered from the scorching rays of the sun, are the palace residences of the higher classes during the extreme season. These galleries serve also to shorten distances between remote parts of the external world. With their streets and passages they form of themselves cities, with scarcely less movement than in those without.
Light is admitted through occasional apertures—some natural, some made by man. It is not as vivid as that of the external world, but subdued and beautifully soft, is ample indeed for all purposes by day, like the pale red of the shade in the external world. Even at night artificial light is not ordinarily required in the open air, the shade of the red light of night being sufficient. Both sea and fresh water in abundance is brought to every part of the internal cities, which abound in waterfalls and fountains, nothing being omitted that may contribute to beauty, health, or comfort.
Many of the most lovely flowers and plants in the external world are those which flourish in the red shade, and are, therefore, eminently suited to the internal cities, where, planted in profusion, they flourish greatly, and emit aromas like your essences, but invariably fresh, sweet, and wholesome. Their natural beauty and odours are increased by electricity, an agent by means of which we can give most beautiful fragrance—nay, colour, form, and variety to flowers in general.
The communication from the palaces in the external world is often by means of a winding path, descending from the basement of the upper palace to the palace in the internal world. By means of machines worked by electricity we have facilities for excavating earth; and where rocks or hard substances intervene we can remove large masses by the application of explosive electricities. These paths are therefore excavated with ease.
My palace, situate on the summit of the upper mountain city, communicates with a magnificent summer palace, reached easily by a well lighted descent. The daylight in the internal palaces is peculiarly beautiful, almost unearthly. Pictures of life-like power are painted expressly for this light.
In my summer palace is a saloon of very great proportions, with a floor of ivory inlaid with pearls. This saloon contains more than 150 pictures, works of our great artists, representing the principal events of my life. In these the figures are large as life. Here are depicted extreme perils which I had undergone; here are the present times contrasted with the past; and thus the benefits conferred by my reign are presented in a manner which appeals at once to the heart.
Great discoveries had been made of the enormous resources afforded by the sun. By the aid of machines this power is greatly utilized in manufactures, sciences, and arts. The loveliest colours of our fabrics are those imparted by the action of the sun with the aid of instruments fitted to the purpose.
When we desire to produce in a painting the effect of sunshine, the rays of the sun are attracted and permanently fixed on the parts of the picture we wish to illumine. The effect produced is as though the sun was actually shining on the picture. The effects of sunrise or sunset— the effects of the most brilliant, as well as the least vivid, sunshine—can be produced at will, and are exactly those of nature. Some of these effects are so vivid, that it would dazzle the eye to look on the sunny parts of the picture for any length of time.
A preparation sympathetic to the sun's rays having been rubbed over the part they are intended to illumine, the rays are concentrated there by means of an attracting and concentrating instrument. Another solution is then thrown rapidly on the part illumined in order to fix the rays permanently. A brush was used at first; but, in spite of all care, this left its deep shadow, which greatly marred the effect. Even now much care is necessary, and the solution must be thrown from the side with considerable address, so that the sun's rays may not be intercepted. This solution serves also to fix the rest of the colours. The picture is painted on a fine material like linen, of great durability.
This art of using the sun's rays was much used on the paintings in my summer palace. The brilliant sunlight of the outer world thrown on the principal figures produced a greater effect in the subdued light of the internal city.
"Let pictures speak to the eye, to the ear, to the taste, to the heart, to the head, to the concentrated light of the soul, to the imagination as well as to the understanding. If they do not rouse good aspirations, cast them into the fathomless ravine, there to perish, a fitting food for the poisonous fungi that cover its sides."
Among the pictures to which I refer is a series representing the following subjects:—
Education before and since the Tootmanyoso's reign is typified.
On one side a number of poor intelligent children are depicted wandering in ignorance. On the other is seen the college as now established, with indications of results. The one part of the picture is seen as if it were enveloped in darkness, whilst on another part the sun is shining brilliantly.
The opening of the first Amusement Gallery is here depicted with theTootmanyoso attending.
This is an interesting picture. It exhibits the gallery, with the different playthings and amusements, toys, musical instruments, live birds, small animals, flowers, and other objects. Amid these are shown the interest and delight of the little ones, happy groups of merry faces, the joy and gratitude of the mothers, the Tootmanyoso's satisfaction in contemplating his work, and the intent observation of the "Character-Divers," and "Overlookers," with other varied and interesting features.[1]
[Footnote 1: See p. 202.]
Man is shown as he was before, and as he had become after I as Tootmanyoso had reigned about one hundred of your years. Man's life had been lengthened from your average age to one which before the employment of the means enjoined and carried out in my reign would have been considered impossible.
The different stages of man's life during both eras are here contrasted in every gradation. Thus we have the child as he was, the child as he is, commencing his education, and his entry into manhood; the coxcomb and dissipated man of former times, and the man of the present era, following the road leading to his own happiness and the good of others; middle age—the man struggling to draw the load up the hill with painful efforts, the other man engaged in congenial occupation; lastly, the disappointed and the happy old age.
In like manner we have a series of pictures showing woman's former state; her present education, in the representation of which episodes are given of her progress in her own sphere to the level and companionship of man. Reference is made to the means of increasing her beauty, and employing her charms for her own and man's happiness;[1] the gentleness of her nature in softening man's lot, whilst she is supported and defended by him; woman as a mother, her devotion to her children, and her joy and gratitude in contemplating the development of their strength and beauty through the means enjoined and practised in my reign.
[Footnote 1: See p. 94.]
One picture, let me add, represents the mode of choosing a husband,[2] and another represents ceremonies used in the preparations for marriage.[3]
[Footnote 2: See p. 104.]
[Footnote 3: See p. 120.]
In the picture relating to this subject we first show marriage as it was. The wife and husband are rarely by each other's side; when they meet they are in common attire, and receive each other with frowns; the wife, in grand costume, smiles on strangers, and so on with other episodes of former married life.
With this state of things is then contrasted, in every detail, the happiness of the married state as it now exists.
These are pictures showing the spare and lean cattle of earlier times, the former paucity of our flocks and herds, and the present innumerable supplies,—the result of good treatment, and of people's obedience to a law of mine which forbade them to slaughter the female, so that our resources for multiplying our stocks should not be diminished. The present humane method of treating animals, and the dispatching of the animal without pain, are admirably depicted.[1]
[Footnote 1: See p. 213.]
The different stages of my progress in creating the Allmanyuka, or new food, substituted by me for a strong, stimulating, and injurious condiment previously in general use, are represented in another series of paintings, showing the incipient thought and its perfection, the fruit in its various phases, my anxiety while watching the growth of the fruit, my joy when success had crowned my efforts, and the gratitude of the people.[2]
[Footnote 2: See p. 220.]
The Tootmanyoso is seen looking through the "Star Instrument," while worlds are opening in the distance. This "star instrument," or "world viewer," is a gigantic telescope of immense power, aided by electricity, constructed for me at my suggestion.[1] The power of our telescopes is wondrously increased by electric and chemical combinations, but this one excelled all others in magnitude and power.
[Footnote 1: See p. 299.]
Navigation before and since my reign is here depicted. The frail and sluggish ships of former times are contrasted with the swift and powerful ships constructed in my reign.[2]
[Footnote 2: See p. 268.]
An episode connected with the discovery of the incipient cause of this malady is here represented.[3]
[Footnote 3: See p. 235.]
In a series of pictures are portrayed various incidents illustrating the injuries formerly inflicted from ignorance of the causes of the malady, the really mad having often been regarded as sane, whilst many of the sane were treated as mad. Every phase of the malady as it formerly existed is depicted, as also the discoveries and incidents attending its detection and cure in its incipiency.
While representing the Tootmanyoso expounding some of his leading doctrines, the artist has given to many of the countenances a fearful expression of hatred and incredulity, while the Tootmanyoso's calm and settled purpose is grandly expressed in the dignity, eloquence, and unswerving faith depicted in his aspect and general bearing.
In this picture, too, are seen figures of children clothed in rich habits, who had been brought up in idleness, and taught to respect little else than money; some deriding, some in the act of throwing missiles at the principal figure, whom others are revering.
The poor people's joy when relieved by the Tootmanyoso from misery and oppression, and told that the gates of honour were open to themselves and their sons and daughters, is plainly shown. The beaming intelligence of beautiful children with lofty aspirations, expressing innate love of good and desire of knowledge, hitherto held back by want, is also represented. All this is more beautifully expressed by the painter than words can convey.
An episode in the Tootmanyoso's life when, alone and unarmed in his study, he was surrounded by a band of armed men, who had bound themselves by oath to murder him unless he complied with their rebellious demands, is here recorded in a picture, in which is portrayed the noble figure of the Tootmanyoso, unarmed and bareheaded, at the mercy of these furious armed men, who have the expression of wild beasts in their rage. The painter nevertheless has succeeded in giving to the faces of the rebels a cowering expression, as if they were inwardly awed by the undaunted calmness and aspect of the man they had come to destroy.
Besides the most remarkable views of this wondrous work, the different interesting incidents attending its construction are recorded. Here, also, is portrayed the unsupported Mountain Arm, threatening many cities with destruction, as it appeared before the construction of the Supporter.
The discovery of the properties of leaves, and the invention of the "Leaf Instrument," by the aid of which fallen leaves are utilised as a valuable means of enriching the Earth. This was a great boon to my world, greatly increasing the fertility of the land and the excellence of the crops.
The discovery of Sun-power; its application to manufactures and the arts; to various medicinal purposes, and to invigorating the constitution and brain of man.
The opening of the first Electric Theatre, and the exhibition of the wondrous feats accomplished by Electricity.
The Tootmanyoso suggesting to one of his scientific men, Drahna by name, the machines, the use of which prevented many of the accidents and diseases incident to infancy. There are many other pictures illustrating the discoveries by which health and beauty are preserved, and man's life is prolonged.[1]
[Footnote 1: See p. 187.]
The Installation of Character-Divers and Preceptors is a ceremony of a very solemn character, and takes place in public, the Twelve Kings presiding. The candidate engages solemnly to fulfil the duties strictly and impartially.
The Tootmanyoso addressing the people in the Valley of the Rocks; an extremely picturesque locality, studded with rocks, which, by his orders were sculptured into groups of gigantic statuary, calculated to impress the people's minds with grandeur and beauty.
The Tootmanyoso, on the completion of his work, is seen offering up thanks to Heaven.
The principal figure stands out from the picture in a marvellous way. A glory of light shines on the monarch's brow, and his eyes are illumined with heavenly fire and inspiration. In the background are the people, surrounded by plenty, and guarded by myriads of angels. Our painters have the art of giving to their delineations of angels an incorporeal vapoury appearance, like that of forms sometimes seen in sleep. The Tootmanyoso is in the act of accompanying his hymn of praise with the grand music of the harp. This instrument with us is of gigantic proportions, and, touched by a skilful player, produces lovely effects. It is not supported by the executant, but revolves easily on a ball and socket, to which, having been placed at the exact inclination required, it is fixed by a small bolt before he intones his hymns.[1]
[Footnote 1: See p. 243.]
It was delightful for me to go down occasionally to the great room, and to meditate on these pictures, and the subjects that had inspired the painters. The light and tone of the place, and the general impression made upon me, seemed to savour more of heaven than of earth.
"Let woman be as soft as down, as sharp as a lancet, as sparklingas the diamond, and as pure as Stainer's fount." [1]
[Footnote 1: See p. 149.]
Woman is the object of much solicitude and consideration, and enjoys many privileges. The tendency of her education is to qualify her for the position which nature intended her to hold as the companion and helpmate of man. However she is instructed, though not to so great in degree, in many branches of art and science, cultivated by the stronger sex, the design being to enable her to appreciate the efforts of man and to encourage and comfort him in his progress, but not to take his place. With us women are happy and contented, and words of complaint rarely fall from their lips.
Great precaution, however, is taken lest they should overwork themselves in the severer studies, or even in the lighter occupations, the tendrils of their nerves being so delicate, that, if once injured, they would seldom be restored to their normal condition.
There is this marked difference in the education of the two sexes. Boys are educated in manly and athletic sports, in all that can give them strength and physical development, and call out their masculine qualities, while the occupations and exercises allotted to girls tend to confirm and develope their natural delicacy, gentleness, and sweetness. The result, is, that whilst men are large of frame and endowed with great force and strength, the women in Montalluyah scarcely ever exceed the middle size. They are beautiful, and thoroughly feminine in form and feature, while in disposition they are sprightly, ingenuous, and truthful. Their carriage and movement are marked by elegance and grace, their voice is of melodious softness, and they are altogether distinguished by a peculiar charm and fascination.
Most of our women are brunettes, with rich black silky hair and eyes— large and beautiful as those of the gazelle; but the fair with blue eyes are considered the more beautiful—probably on account of their rarity.
The beauty of the woman, like the muscular development of the man, is greatly aided by the care now taken of children from their birth. Women were formerly left to themselves, and many, either from ignorance or want of thought, neglected to do justice to their proper qualities and charms, whilst they became enamoured of ostentation and indulged in a thoughtless extravagance which served to kindle the envy of their neighbours, and to bring ruin to their husbands. Whilst seeking extraneous aids to beauty, they neglected the simplest precautions for its preservation, though, when their charms had faded, they eagerly sought means to repair what were incorrectly called the ravages of time, but were only the unavoidable consequences of their own neglect. The heavenly light of their eyes had become dim; their complexions, originally of a warm purity, had become of a yellow tinge; their skin, soft to the touch and beautiful to the eye, had become shrivelled and hard; their dark and beautiful hair had become grey or fallen off, deprived of the nourishment which had been prodigally wasted, and the undulating and elegant form had often sunk into a misshapen mass.
We have now a belief that the harmonious development of the body is not only physically and aesthetically desirable, but assists in the healthful development of the mind, to which, for a time, that body belongs; beauty being regarded as "a precious gift from Heaven which it behoves every woman to preserve and improve." The exceptions to beauty are now rare, and women are scarcely less lovely in age than they were in youth. In many cases time has actually enhanced their attractions, improved, through the additional charm impressed on the countenance, by the sweetness and gracefulness of their nature.
Cosmetics for the reparation of beauty are not needed, but women of all ranks are enjoined to use various precautions for its preservation. We have cosmetics very efficacious for protecting the face from the burning sun, for keeping cool the natural moisture, for preserving the complexion, and for preventing wrinkles. In our climate the heat distends the skin, and by inducing excessive perspiration, reduces the fat required to support it. But for our cosmetics, wrinkles would be formed at an early age. As it is, the skin and complexion, as well as the form and features, are now preserved to the last period of life.
The hands and feet, and indeed all the details of beauty, are much cared for. The toes of the feet are exercised in a variety of ways, and are almost as elastic and pliable as the fingers, being, as well as the ankles ornamented with jewels. Soles, secured with sandals protect the under part of the foot. On many great occasions the sandals are dispensed with, the sole being secured by a preparation rendered adhesive by the warmth of the foot. This preparation is easily removed by the application of a sponge and water.
A lady's hands and feet form so great a feature in the estimation of her beauty, that they are made a distinctive test for deciding preferences on certain occasions.
Thus, partners for the dance are sometimes chosen in a way that excites a great deal of mirth. The custom is called "choosing by hands."
A large round screen, made expressly for the purpose, stands at one end of a ball-room; behind this a certain number of ladies—generally twelve at a time—place themselves, accompanied by the master of the ceremonies. The opening in the doorway is then closed. The screen, though not closed at the top, is sufficiently high to completely mask the ladies, and there are in it twelve or more small apertures, lined or faced with a soft crimson or other warm-coloured velvet, sufficiently large to admit of a hand being passed through, so that it may be seen and criticised on the exposed side of the screen. Through one of these openings each of the ladies passes her right hand, and the gentlemen choose the hand they prefer, each by touching a spring nearest the hand selected, and at the same time announcing his name. The chosen one is immediately led out from behind the screen and presented by the master of ceremonies to the gentleman, in the midst of the applause or merriment of the company before the screen, and of the rest of the ladies behind it. Ladies are very particular about their hands and nails, and, as may easily be conceived, give them a little extra attention before going to a party.
There is another peculiar mode of choosing partners—"by foot"—but this is conducted in a different manner, and is made to depend on the superior beauty of the foot, as decided by an arbiter, who is chosen by the company, and who is, of course, a man famous for his taste and knowledge of the beautiful.
While the arbiter pursues his duties, the ladies are concealed behind a screen, which is, however, open sufficiently at the bottom to disclose the foot and ankle. She to whom the palm is awarded has the first choice of a partner, and the others follow in succession in the order in which they have been ranked. This diversion, though exciting great interest, is not so happy as "the choice by hand." The ladies whose feet are placed in a lower rank often think themselves aggrieved, and are slightly jealous of their rivals, for in spite of the efficacy of my laws, I could not—whilst giving just triumphs to superior beauty— altogether prevent a feeling of disappointment in ladies who saw the palm given to others by one recognised as an honest and able judge,—a man whose taste was known to be irreproachable.
When the hand and foot of a young lady are inclined to coarseness, while at the same time her talents and goodness entitle her to a superior position, the fingers or toes, and afterwards the hand and foot themselves, are bound up, for a certain number of hours each day. We do not like "contradictions," or, as I have before observed, we object to a garment partly of rich brocade, partly of common stuff.
At the head of all the means for preserving beauty are cleanliness, frequent ablutions, and a habit of early rising. In these girls of all ranks are well schooled, and to show you that in their education we do not neglect what are erroneously called trifles, I will tell you of one of the modes of treatment commonly employed in connexion with such matters.
In the colleges each girl has a separate sleeping-room, as we have a great objection to young girls sleeping together in one room, and inhaling each other's peculiar gas thrown off in the form of breath during their slumbers. Besides, when that practice prevailed, as it did formerly, the girls were in the habit of talking to each other upon subjects which often suggested inconvenient thoughts, even to the best disposed, and confirmed others in tendencies which eventually grew into confirmed vices.
On the pupil's retiring to rest, the door of her sleeping-room is fastened from the outside by one of the matrons. The girl has no means of opening it herself, but by touching a little spring at the head of her couch she can at any moment communicate with the matron night-watchers. These matron night-watchers—two for a certain number of girls—are on the alert during the night, remaining in a place called the "watch," where are suspended the electric bells, underneath each of which is the name of the girl occupying the room to which it corresponds.
Light is supplied to every dormitory by means of a lamp inserted in the wall, and opening from the outside. Half an hour after the door has been closed the matron extinguishes the light, without entering the room. The external red light of night is also excluded; for, as with you, darkness is thought much more conducive to refreshing sleep.
In consequence of the warmth of our climate, girls, being naturally rather luxurious, are not inclined to rise early. They are, however, all required to rise at the same hour, and this is the mode adopted for rousing them. At the end of each room, opposite to the sleeping-couch, is a kind of gong made of metal and formed like a pair of cymbals, united at the base by a hinge, and kept together by a bolt at the top.
At the hour of rising these cymbals are set in motion by the matron in the watch room, who touches a spring by which the bolt fastening the cymbals together is removed. Thereupon the cymbals immediately clash together, and produce loud discordant sounds. The girl, not liking the discordant noise, loses no time in stopping it, which is beyond her power unless she leaves her bed and fixes the bolt that keeps the two cymbals together.
This done, she goes into an adjoining room, in which are a bath and other preparations for her ablutions. The door communicating with the sleeping-room closes of itself, whereupon the matron enters the apartment, pulls off the bed-clothes, and opens a large skylight at the top, to admit the fresh air.
The ablutions of all the girls ended, they descend to their repast, after which they say a very short and simple prayer. In this thanks for their refreshing sleep and for the food they have partaken are united into one petition that the labours of the day may be blest by the Supreme.
The practice which formerly existed of saying long prayers before the girls partook of their first repast is abolished. Many young people have keen appetites after a night's rest, and when the old custom prevailed their thoughts would be wandering in a direction very different to that ostensibly taken by their prayers.
Although saying set prayers before the early meal is now not required of the young girl, gratitude to the Dispenser of all good is successfully inculcated. On the walls of the repast room are inscribed in large characters appropriate precepts adapted to the young intellect—such as "Think of God before you eat." In the meaning of these the young are instructed at an early age, and by various devices are imperceptibly led, through the medium of the eye, the ear, and the understanding to acquire the habit of directing their thoughts in conformity with the spirit of the precepts.
A careful discipline prevails, as I have intimated, in all matters relating to the education of girls of every rank, but, as soon as they attain one amongst the higher positions and marry, they are allowed, nay, encouraged, to indulge in many luxurious habits, to dress beautifully, and to wear magnificent jewels, but only according to their means.
As an instance of luxury in simple things, I will mention a peculiar soft reclining cushion, or settee, particularly adapted to exhibit the lady and her costume to the greatest advantage. As the lady sits down, however gently, it yields to the pressure, leaving her surrounded by the portion not pressed, which thus forms a background, and, as it were, a frame to the living picture. When she rises, the elastic cushion resumes its pristine form. The least movement is sufficient to cause the seat to rise or fall, and I have often seen ladies amuse themselves with this gentle exercise.
To these settees a pad is attached. On a spring being touched this opens, and forms a fan which by its own movement fans the lady, and at the same time emits a refreshing perfume, continuing to act until the lady closes it by touching a spring.
These settees are covered with silk of various colours, adapted to the ladies and their costume; a peculiar crimson ornamented with gold is the favourite colour. They are allowed to be used by the married ladies alone, and are much liked by them, the more so perhaps that in the colleges girls of all ranks are not allowed to use any seats but those without backs.
"Women are the mothers of the nation. The happiness of our life depends on theirs. They have much to bear. If we neglect them we neglect ourselves."
Having taken care by means of education to eradicate all incipient faults in woman, to confirm her health, to increase her powers of attraction, and fit her for the station which her talents and virtues entitle her to fill, we take the best means to ensure that the maiden shall at the proper age marry the man most pleasing to her, and most likely to secure the happiness of both.
In every district a council of ladies, who have passed through certain ordeals, and a council of elders, regulate all matters relating to marriage. Over each of these presides a man of a certain age, and of spotless character, whose qualities, actions, and mode of life have been observed and recorded from early youth.
Let me more particularly describe how the lady makes choice of a husband.
During thirty-one evenings in succession the girl intended for the marriage state is placed in an assemblage composed of eighty-five young men, one of whom she is expected to choose, but however quickly her mind may be made up she is not allowed to announce her decision till the thirty-first evening has arrived.
The eighty-five young men are selected by the councils from those only who have declared their intention of marrying. Any man of the same rank as the lady, who is desirous to be one of the eighty-five, is generally nominated at once, and if the girl has any especial liking for one particular person, she is allowed to communicate the fact privately to one of the ladies of the council.
In cases, however, where both the councils are of opinion that there is any serious objection to the eligibility of the young man, they have the right to withhold the summons. This right they rarely exercise, and never until after communicating with the lady where she has named the gentleman. Every contingency is well considered; besides, the regulations which govern every step connected with these meetings, and the sacred feeling with which the councils regard the delicate trust confided to them, prevent any inconvenience which might otherwise arise from their proceedings.
At these meetings the girl wears a peculiar headdress with a star in front, to distinguish her from other ladies who are allowed to be present, but who however are expected not to pay court to the gentlemen. It would have been unreasonable to require the exercise of so much self denial under the old system, but an acquisition of the power of self denial forms part of the training prescribed by my system of education, and is now ordinarily practised when needed. This privilege of being present is highly prized and eagerly sought by ladies, if only for one of the thirty-one chosen evenings.
The gentlemen who wish to have their pretensions favourably viewed, pay court to the young maiden of the star, and any gentleman who it is thought may prove agreeable can be called by the lady of the council, one of whom is always seated near the girl.
On occasions when some of the gentlemen present would rather not be amongst the aspirants, it is amusing to see them retire behind the others, hoping to escape without offence against the rules of good breeding. Should one of these be called by the lady superior, he will probably give himself awkward airs, and endeavour to be as little engaging as possible. The maiden generally looks modest and blushing, and needs the assistance of the lady superior, who is not unfrequently obliged to represent her in conversation.
Before a week has elapsed the maiden of the star has generally intimated by look, who is likely to be the selected one. Sometimes, however, she is fickle, and when one, encouraged by her expressive glance, has paid her court, she will encourage another and another, and another,—for on these occasions she has full liberty of action.
It is amusing to see the efforts of pretenders, and the expression put on, whilst overwhelming the lady with amiabilities when her thoughts and perhaps her glances lie in another direction. She in turn may be obliged to use all her power to attract the one she desires to select. If she be a coquette, each one of many will think that he himself is the fortunate swain on whom her choice will fall. The doubts existing in these instances cause great excitement and amusement, and between the meetings pearls against rubies, diamonds against diamonds, and other precious stones are staked on the event.
Great is the agitation on the thirty-first evening, when the maiden is expected to declare on whom her choice has fallen. She proclaims it by presenting the chosen one with an appropriate flower, and thus is spared the pain of a verbal declaration. A band of music then announces by a particular and well-known strain that the choice is made, and a march is played, to the measure of which the chosen one leads his intended to a throne on a slightly raised dais.
Each of the gentlemen then approaches, successively presenting to the maiden a flower,[1] which he lays on the table in front of the dais, wishing her at the same time happiness and joy.
[Footnote 1: See p. 126.]
The lady will perhaps kiss the flower presented when anxious to show regard for the giver, whom, however, she has not been able to choose. This ceremony of presenting flowers having been concluded, the future bride and bridegroom lead the way to the banqueting-room.
On the evening following, a meeting of three hours' duration takes place between the chosen one and the maiden, who is accompanied by the lady superior of the marriage council. The two converse, and if after mutual explanation anything incongruous is found, either party is at liberty to object, and the marriage does not take place; but if the three hours pass without objection no further question can be raised. The two are then looked upon as betrothed, and after a certain interval the marriage takes place.
It sometimes happens that at the meetings of the eighty-five the maiden, distracted between contending aspirants, is unable to give the preference to any. In that case she is put back for another year.
At the end of the year another assembly of young men is called; the number invited is limited, however, to forty-five, and the evenings are reduced to twelve. Should the lady again fail to select—a very improbable occurrence—another and final assembly would be called for the following year, the number of gentlemen being reduced to twenty-one, and the evenings to seven, and if the lady should still remain undecided she must be content to enjoy single blessedness during the rest of her life. For my own part, I do not recollect more than one case where the selection was postponed beyond the second year.
"Let not the ranks of the good be defiled by the presence of him who has betrayed his trust."
I never knew an instance of the trust confided to the Marriage Councils being in any way abused. None are selected for the office, who have not, after years of probation, shown themselves in every way worthy of the sacred trust.
A severe punishment would attend any deviation from the strict path of honour; the offender, condemned to wear "the dress of shame," would probably be degraded from his rank. After a time had passed, sufficient to exhibit his punishment as a warning to others, he would, perhaps, be banished to a distant country. It should be understood that every other part of our world is less agreeable than Montalluyah.
The dress of shame to which I have just referred, is a common robe formed of one piece, and of sombre colour, on which dress are placed marks indicating the nature of the offence and the name of the offender. Similar marks are likewise placed over his house, and are well understood by the people.
Independently of the deep degradation implied by this costume, the entire privation of his ordinary dress would alone be a punishment to the offender, for the people are very fond of dressing well. I encouraged the love of dress particularly in woman, for I thought that when properly regulated it was good, and heightened the beauty of the picture. With us the style of dress and the taste of its arrangement are thought indications of the mind within, but none are allowed to dress or wear jewels beyond their station.
After marriage ladies, according to their rank, are allowed to wear very rich costumes. The textures are beautiful and the colours very brilliant.
The sun gives lustre to fabrics and imparts colours which can be supplied by no other means. In your planet such brilliancy is never seen except in the sun itself. We have, for instance, a silk of a very remarkable colour, which is highly prized by the ladies. Of this you may form a remote notion if you imagine a bright silver green radiant with all the vividness and brilliancy you sometimes see in the sunsets of your southern climes.
Some of our silks in the natural state are of a chalky white. This silver green is obtained by exposing the silk, when woven into the piece, to the rays of the sun during the half-hour after noon; no other time of the day will answer as well. If the silk were kept beyond the half-hour, the tint given would be unequal. The material is exposed to the influence of the sun in a machine, which has two different actions; by one, that lasts for a quarter of an hour, the silk is unrolled, and by the other, which is of exactly the same duration, it is rolled back, the two operations being so regulated as to finish in the half-hour two "pangartas," equal to about twenty of your yards, the quantity required for a lady's dress. The colour penetrates through the silk, but the side exposed to the sun is the more brilliant.
Our Ladies also wear a silk most beautiful in texture and colour, called "Sun Silk." To obtain this silk, the sun is made to bear on silk-worms at particular hours of the day, and the result is, that the silk of the cocoon is of a colour resembling that of a bright sun.
There are numerous other beautiful colours prepared in different ways under the influence of the sun, and, by the action of the same luminary, fabrics for ladies' dresses are endowed with the power of repelling heat.
Women are instructed in the art of pleasing, and the handsomest and most gifted exert themselves to this end. They are required to attend to their personal appearance abroad and at home. The married especially are enjoined to attend to this as much in the presence of their husbands as before strangers. A different custom prevailed in former times, when women after they had been some time married, thinking that their husbands' affection was secured, gave themselves no further care to please him, though still taking pains to appear handsome and fascinating to others. It was for visitors and strangers that the most comely apparel and the most engaging manners were put on; the consequence was, that the husband often preferred the society of those who in appearance at least seemed to care more for him than did his own wife. This was the cause of much of the immorality which formerly existed in our world.
The example, too, on children, was most injurious; it schooled them in deceit and disingenuousness. My laws declare that those, whether man or woman, are dishonest, who wear a behaviour to each other after marriage different to what they did before, for they have gained the affections of their victim by deceit—pretending one thing and doing another.
"The harmonious beauty of dress gives often indication of the mind of the wearer."
While speaking of materials for dress, I will venture to interrupt "the preparations for the marriage" by giving a short description, of some of our costumes.
As certain of our manners and customs, besides having a character of their own, may be said to partake both of your Eastern and Western usages, so do our dresses partake both of your oriental and classical costumes.
The costume of the lady is loose and flowing. A jacket or bodice of purple tissue covers the right arm, and one side of the body to the waist, leaving the left arm, shoulder and part of the bosom exposed.
A small waistcoat, made of a crimson tissue, is worn underneath the bodice.
The tunic is of white tissue, beautifully embroidered with a gold thread. The short skirts show trousers of golden tissue, full, and not unlike those of your Turks. They are confined at the ankle by anklets, made of plain gold for the middle classes, whilst those worn by the upper classes are of ravine metal, ornamented with precious stones.
There are fringe trimmings to the tunic made of precious metals of every variety of colour, selected for their lightness and beauty, and enriched at their extremities with precious stones. The colours of the costume vary with the taste of the wearer, but are selected to harmonise one with another, and all with our brilliant light.
The feet are protected by a sole secured either by sandals or by means of an adhesive material.
Women are not allowed to wear stays, or in any way to confine the waist. Indeed such encumbrances would serve no good purpose, inasmuch as their forms are actually beautiful; their spines, in consequence of their physical education, are strong, and every part of the person, which might otherwise possibly require support, is in its proper place.
In the hair is sometimes worn an ornament forming two wings, each consisting of a single diamond, which moves on small fine hinges, and is so arranged that the least breath of air will set it in motion. In the centre uniting the two wings, is a small crimson stone surmounted by a large round stone of purple-blue, from which sprouts out a very fine dagger of a greenish-gold colour. The rest of the head-dress is made of fine metal, chosen for its lightness, of the same tints. These metals are of equal, perhaps greater value, than gold, but are chosen for their qualities. The necklace and anklets correspond in character to the headdress, with the addition to the former of one large pearl, which hangs to the wings and rests on the lady's bosom. The bracelets are made in your Greek style—bands of gold set with large pearls. The soles to protect the feet are gilded with ravine metal. The sandals, which are of purple enamel of a peculiar kind, are often ornamented with jewels. The fan is composed of the choicest feathers of our native birds, and set in ravine metal of the most beautiful kind, studded with pearls and other precious stones.
We have pearls, diamonds, and other precious stones of a very remarkable kind, whose electricities are supposed to have a certain influence over the wearer. Thus, diamonds in Montalluyah have, it is thought, a tendency to increase the circulation; and when I have been fatigued by excessive study, a chain of peculiar diamonds has been placed near my skin to revive me.
Ladies sometimes wear a small turban with a gold tassel on the crown of the head. For the open air the head is covered with a turban, in front of which is a small shade, which, by means of a spring, falls down and protects the eyes and face from the sun.
Ladies of superior quality rarely wear turbans, for they seldom go abroad in the heat of the sun, and when they do, they are shaded by a canopy, supported at each corner by a pole, and borne by four men. When walking in their grounds ladies use long veils, covering them from head to ankle, which they also wear when on horseback, but they never mount in the heat of the sun.
Every unmarried woman, without exception of class, wears a distinctive feature on her dress. The drapery is fixed with a jewel to the right shoulder, and the right arm is bare. On the other hand, the married woman's arms are always covered with falling drapery, though by certain movements she shows the arm. It is not till after marriage that the lady is allowed to wear very elaborate costumes.
By men an elastic linen case or chemise, made of a material which will stretch to any size, and cling to the form, is worn next the skin. This, reaching just below the knee, is short in the sleeves, and very ornamental about the neck, leaving the throat bare. It is changed daily by the poor, and twice a day by the rich. Over it is worn a tunic of rich material, with sleeves differing from each both in form and colour.
The trousers of the men consist of a large mass of drapery of very fine light material finer than cambric, prepared from leaves which have passed through a certain process, and are afterwards woven. This is wound round and round the leg. As many folds are required to protect the body from the scorching heat, it will be seen that lightness is an essential quality. The trouser, otherwise full, is narrow at the ankle, where it is confined by a band of the same material, of gold or of jewels, according to the quality of the wearer. Gloves are not worn by men, but their trousers being so massive they can place their hands in the ample folds when walking in the sun.
Another important article of male attire is a large piece of drapery, which, fastened in front and on one shoulder with a jewel chain, is carried to the back, and being attached to the opposite arm, falls in graceful folds below one knee, where it may be fastened. It may also be thrown back and worn as a cloak or covering; in any case it descends in graceful folds.
The feet of our men are bare, and are rubbed with an oleaginous preparation, which keeps them lithesome, and prevents them from being browned by the sun. The under part of the foot is protected by a sole secured by sandals. The hair, whether of the head or beard, is never cut, and we have no shaving, but we have means to prevent the hair growing on any part of the face.
The colours of the costume vary greatly; each man selects according to his taste, but they always harmonize. To give an example. If the drapery were crimson on the outside, the inside would be blue; the tunic, a very rich brown; the legs of the trousers, one red the other blue.
The only ornament worn by the men is a chain of ravine metal, sometimes plain, sometimes set with costly gems, and we have costumes all brown, relieved by this chain alone.
Out of doors the men wear a turban or head-covering, made of a very light material, beat out to the thinness of the finest wafer, and repellent of heat. It is very large, that the face and eyes may be protected from the sun; and, moreover, it is furnished with a contrivance by which a current of air is kept constantly playing on the top of the brain.