CHAPTER X.

When a question as to the existence of social distinctions would be

asked the citizens of Mizora, the invariable answer would be--there were

none; yet a long and intimate acquaintance with them assured me that

there were. They had an aristocracy; but of so peculiar and amiable a

kind that it deserves a special mention. It took a long time for me to

comprehend the exact condition of their society in this respect. That

there were really no dividing lines between the person who superintended

the kitchen and the one who paid her for it, in a social point of view,

I could plainly see; yet there were distinctions; and rather sharply

defined ones too.

In order to explain more lucidly the peculiar social life of Mizora, I

will ask you to remember some Charity Fair you have attended, perhaps

participated in, and which had been gotten up and managed by women of

the highest social rank. If in a country where titles and social

positions were hereditary, it then represented the highest aristocracy

of blood. Grand dames there departed from the routine of their daily

lives and assumed the lowlier occupations of others. They stood behind

counters, in booths, and sold fancy articles, or dispensed ices and

lemonade, or waited upon customers at the refreshment tables; bringing

in trays of eatables, gathering up and removing empty dishes; performing

labor that, under the ordinary circumstances of life, they would not

perform in their own homes, and for their own kindred. It was all done

with the same conscious dignity and ease that characterized the

statelier duties of their every day life. One fact was apparent to all:

they were gentlewomen still. The refinement of their home education, and

the charm of nourished beauty were, perhaps, more prominent in contrast

with their assumed avocation.

The Charity Fair, with its clerks and waiter girls and flower sellers

called from the highest society, was a miniature picture of the actual

every-day social life of Mizora. The one who ordered a dinner at their

finest hotel, had it served to her by one who occupied the same social

standing. Yet there _was_ a difference; but it was the difference of

mind.

The student in Sociology discovers that in all grades of society,

congenial natures gravitate to a center. A differentiation of the

highest mental quality was the result of this law in Mizora, and its

co-ordinate part, their aristocracy.

The social organism did not need legislation to increase its benefits;

it turned to Science, and, through Science, to Nature. The Laboratory of

the Chemist was the focus that drew the attention of all minds. Mizora

might be called a great school of Nature, whose pupils studied her every

phase, and pried into her secrets with persistent activity, and obeyed

her instructions as an imperative duty. They observed Nature to be an

economist, and practiced economy with scrupulous exactness.

They had observed that in all grades of animal life, from the lowest

form to the highest, wherever sociality had produced unity a leader was

evolved, a superiority that differed in power according to the grade of

development. In the earlier histories, the leaders were chosen for their

prowess in arms. Great warriors became rulers, and soldiers were the

aristocracy of the land. As civilization progressed and learning became

more widely disseminated, the military retired before the more

intellectual aristocracy of statemanship. Politics was the grand

entrance to social eminence.

"But," said my friend, "_we_ have arrived at a higher, nobler, grander

age. The military and political supremacies lived out their usefulness

and decayed. A new era arrived. The differentia of mind evolved an

aristocracy."

Science has long been recognized as the greatest benefactor of our race.

Its investigators and teachers are our only acknowledged superiors and

leaders.

Generally the grandest intellects and those which retain their creative

power the longest, are of exceptionally slow development. Precocity is

short lived, and brilliant rather than strong. This I knew to be true of

my own race.

In Mizora, a mind that developed late lost none of the opportunities

that belong exclusively to the young of my own and other countries of

the outer world. Their free schools and colleges were always open:

always free. For this reason, it was no unusual thing for a person in

Mizora to begin life at the very lowest grade and rise to its supreme

height. Whenever the desire awakened, there was a helping hand extended

on every side.

The distinction between the aristocracy and the lower class, or the

great intellects and the less, was similar to the relative positions of

teacher and pupil. I recognized in this social condition the great media

of their marvelous approach to perfection. This aristocracy was never

arrogant, never supercilious, never aggressive. It was what the

philosophers of our world are: tolerant, humane, sublime.

In all communities of civilized nations marked musical talent will form

social relations distinct from, but not superior to, other social

relations. The leader of a musical club might also be the leader of

another club devoted to exclusive literary pursuits; and both clubs

possess equal social respect. Those who possess musical predilections,

seek musical associations; those who are purely literary, seek their

congenials. This is true of all other mental endowments or tastes; that

which predominates will seek its affinity; be it in science, literature,

politics, music, painting, or sculpture. Social organizations naturally

grow out of other business pursuits and vocations of all grades and

kinds. The society of Mizora was divided only by such distinctions. The

scientific mind had precedence of all others. In the social world, they

found more congenial pleasure in one another, and they mingled more

frequently among themselves. Other professions and vocations followed

their example for the same reason. Yet neither was barred by social

caste from seeking society where she would. If the artisan sought social

intercourse with a philosopher, she was expected to have prepared

herself by mental training to be congenial. When a citizen of Mizora

became ambitious to rise, she did not have to struggle with every

species of opposition, and contend against rebuff and repulse. Correct

language, refined tastes, dignified and graceful manners were the common

acquirements of all. Mental culture of so high an order--I marveled that

a lifetime should be long enough to acquire it in--was universal.

Under such conditions social barriers could not be impregnable. In a

world divided by poverty and opulence into all their intermediate

grades, wealth must inevitably be pre-eminent. It represents refined and

luxurious environments, and, if mind be there, intellectual pre-eminence

also. Where wealth alone governs society it has its prerogatives.

The wealth that affords the most luxurious entertainments must be the

wealth that rules. Its privilege--its duty rather--is to ignore all

applicants to fraternization that cannot return what it receives. Where

mind is the sole aristocracy it makes demands as rigid, though

different, and mind was the aristocracy of Mizora. With them education

is never at an end. I spoke of having graduated at a renowned school for

young ladies, and when I explained that to graduate meant to finish

one's education, it elicited a peal of silvery mirth.

"_We_ never graduate," said Wauna. "There is my mamma's mother, two

centuries old, and still studying. I paid her a visit the other day and

she took me into her laboratory. She is a manufacturer of lenses, and

has been experimenting on microscopes. She has one now that possesses a

truly wonderful power. The leaf of a pear tree, that she had allowed to

become mouldy, was under the lens, and she told me to look.

"A panorama of life and activity spread out before me in such magnitude

that I can only compare it to the feeling one must possess who could be

suspended in air and look down upon our world for a cycle of time.

"Immense plains were visible with animals grazing upon them, that fought

with and devoured one another. They perished and sank away and immense

forests sprang up like magic. They were inhabited by insects and tiny

creatures resembling birds. A sigh of air moved the leaf and a tiny drop

of water, scarcely discernible to the naked eye rolled over the forests

and plains, and before it passed to the other side of the leaf a great

lake covered the spot. My great-great-grandmother has an acute conductor

of sound that she has invented, so exquisite in mechanism as to reveal

the voice of the tiniest insect. She put it to my ear, and the bellowing

of the animals in battle, the chirp of the insects and the voices of the

feathered mites could be clearly heard, but attenuated like the delicate

note of two threads of spun glass clashed together."

"And what good," I asked, "can all this knowledge do you? Your

great-great-grandmother has condensed the learning of two centuries to

evolve this one discovery. Is it not so?"

"Yes," replied Wauna, and her look and tone were both solemn. "You ask

me what good it can do? Reflect! If the history of a single leaf is so

vast and yet ephemeral, what may not be the history of a single world?

What, after all, are we when such an infinitesimal space can contain

such wonderful transactions in a second of time."

I shuddered at the thought she raised in my mind. But inherited beliefs

are not easily dissipated, so I only sought to change the subject.

"But what is the use of studying _all_ the time. There should be some

period in your lives when you should be permitted to rest from your

labors. It is truly irksome to me to see everybody still eager to learn

more. The artist of the kitchen was up to the National College yesterday

attending a lecture on chemistry. The artist who arranges my rooms is up

there to-day listening to one on air. I can not understand why, having

learned to make beds and cook to perfection, they should not be content

with their knowledge and their work."

"If you were one of us you would know," said Wauna. "It is a duty with

us to constantly seek improvement. The culinary artist at the house

where you are visiting, is a very fine chemist. She has a predilection

for analyzing the construction of food. She may some day discover how

_to_ produce vegetables from the elements.

"The artist who arranges your room is attending a lecture on air because

her vocation calls for an accurate knowledge of it. She attends to the

atmosphere in the whole house, and sees that it is in perfect health

sustaining condition. Your hostess has a particular fondness for flowers

and decorates all her rooms with them. All plants are not harmless

occupants of livingrooms. Some give forth exhalations that are really

noxious. That artist has so accurate a knowledge of air that she can

keep the atmosphere of your home in a condition of perfect purity; yet

she knows that her education is not finished. She is constantly studying

and advancing. The time may come when she, too, will add a grand

discovery to science.

"Had my ancestors thought as you do, and rested on an inferior

education, I should not represent the advanced stage of development that

I do. As it is, when my mind reaches the age of my mother's, it will

have a larger comprehensiveness than hers. She already discerns it. My

children will have intellects of a finer grade than mine. This is our

system of mind culture. The intellect is of slower development than the

body, and takes longer to decay. The gradations of advancement from one

intellectual basis to another, in a social body, requires centuries to

mark a distinct change in the earlier ages of civilization, but we have

now arrived at a stage when advancement is clearly perceptible between

one generation and the next."

Wauna's mother added:

"Universal education is the great destroyer of castes. It is the

conqueror of poverty and the foundation of patriotism. It purifies and

strengthens national, as well as individual character. In the earlier

history of our race, there were social conditions that rendered many

lives wretched, and that the law would not and, in the then state of

civilization, could not reach. They were termed "domestic miseries," and

disappeared only under the influence of our higher intellectual

development. The nation that is wise will educate its children."

"Alas! alas!" was my own silent thought. "When will my country rise to

so grand an idea. When will wealth open the doors of colleges,

academies, and schools, and make the Fountain of Knowledge as free as

the God-given water we drink."

And there rose a vision in my mind--one of those day dreams when fancy

upon the wing takes some definite course--and I saw in my own land a

Temple of Learning rise, grand in proportion, complete in detail, with a

broad gateway, over whose wide-open majestic portal was the significant

inscription: "ENTER WHO WILL: NO WARDER STANDS WATCH AT THE GATE."

Mizora: A Prophecy A MSS. Found Among the Private Papers of the Princess Vera Zarovitch · 第 10 / 14 章