thing to subdue," replied Fortyfolios. "The devotion with which the
Greeks regarded their chief gave him absolute power over the lives and
liberties of his subjects, and they wanted no inducement to follow him
in the pursuit of glory. Wherever he led they crowded to his standard.
He had but to declare his wish and armies were at his command. At this
period Egypt was a fertile and flourishing kingdom. The English and
French had vainly endeavoured to subdue it. They had made conquests
and formed settlements: but when these two great empires decayed, the
conquests were given up, and the settlements abandoned. Since then,
under its own rulers, the people had advanced in prosperity, and had
become powerful among the surrounding nations. This country the Greeks
invaded. They met with desperate resistance; but after a frightful
destruction of human life, and making the prosperous kingdom a
wilderness, they succeeded in bringing the Egyptians into subjection,
and planted a colony near the mouths of the Nile. This new colony throve
rapidly; as after the death of the conqueror a long interval of peace
ensued, and the population increasing rapidly, thousands emigrated to
the shores of Egypt and of Turkey. In little more than a century the
colonies threw off the supremacy of the mother-country, and although
many attempts were made to force them to acknowledge their dependency,
they did not succeed, and now they have become free states, scarcely
inferior in importance to the great empires of Columbia and Australia;
while of the great European nations that flourished a thousand years
ago, Spain, Italy, and Portugal, are in a semi-barbarous condition;
France, after having tried a hundred different forms of government, is
split into a dozen little republics, each trying to destroy the other,
and all acknowledging the supremacy of the German empire, the most
powerful of the European states, having a territory stretching from the
Rhine to the Vistula and from the English channel to the Adriatic sea.
The state of England you will be better able to comprehend during the
visit you are about to make to its shores than any description I can
give you: but I must return to the Greek colony in Egypt. Its population
increased rapidly, and the intelligence of the people seemed to increase
with their numbers. They built many new cities, but by far the largest
and most magnificent of them is the city of Athenia, which was erected
on the borders of the lake Menzaleb. The colonists having turned their
attention to commerce, for many years had considered the advantages that
would accrue to their city if they could open a communication with the
Mediterranean on one side, and with the Gulf of Suez on the other. This
idea, if it were practicable, they saw would give them facilities of
traffic which no country could surpass; and all their thoughts were
anxiously turned towards the realisation of this splendid scheme. But
the project was so gigantic that the most skilful engineers pronounced
it impracticable. At last, one more bold than the rest published a plan
by which he said it might be accomplished, with an enormous capital, a
considerable interval of time, and the application of immense labour.
The plan was considered, and, after much discussion, approved of. Funds
were collected, a multitude of labourers were employed, and the work
commenced by cutting a broad channel through the Isthmus of Suez,
and from the Lake to the Mediterranean. In twenty years from its
commencement the waters mingled together, and in fifty years Athenia was
one of the busiest sea-ports, and one of the most magnificent cities in
the world."
"And its inhabitants are the wisest and the happiest people on the
globe, don't you see," added the doctor. "They allow no superstitious
follies to cramp the energies of their minds. They act and think as
become men and not slaves. Their laws are simple, few, and admirably
adapted to their wants. Their sociality is perfect, their morality
unrivalled, their intelligence exceeds that of any other people beneath
the sun. As for their form of faith, nothing can equal its philosophy,
for they maintain that philanthropy is the only religion, and that the
true worship of God is doing good to man."
"Those are the principles my father entertains," observed the young
merchant.
"They may truly be called a nation of philanthropists," continued the
surgeon. "There is philanthropy in their laws--there is philanthropy
in their government--there is philanthropy in their dealings one with
another. From the cradle to the grave the object of all is to teach good
or to practise it; and such things as hate, deceit, envy, avarice, and
all the black catalogue of vices that stain other nations are to them
unknown."
"They are a people worthy of being studied," said Oriel.
"Studied! they ought to be got by heart, by every nation on the face of
the globe, don't you see," replied Dr. Tourniquet. "There is nothing in
nature so refreshing to the sight. It makes one in love with humanity.
It dissolves all the freezing selfishness that the prejudices of
education have created upon our feelings, and allows us to enjoy the
sunshine and the gladness of a free and unalterable sympathy for all
our race. It is under such circumstances, and under such only, that man
becomes what he was created to be--a creature eminently happy, enjoying
moderately all his inclinations, pleased with the pleasures of others,
and liberally sharing his own: knowing neither fear, nor crime, nor
want, nor folly; suffering from few diseases, and those only the most
ordinary afflictions of existence; entertaining no idea of emulation
but that of endeavouring to exceed one another in doing good; having
no interest in any property apart from the interest of the community;
possessing no attachment to any object or place which is not shared
by those around him--and while looking neither to the past nor to the
future with either hope or fear, endeavouring to make the present
as beneficial to himself and others, as with a kind, a just, and a
reasonable way of life the present can be made. And this is what I call
a perfect state of society, don't you see."
CHAP. XI.
ATHENIA.
A party, consisting of the two philosophers, Oriel Porphyry, Zabra, and
a stranger, were proceeding in an elegant open carriage through the
crowded streets of Athenia. The stranger was a man of about fifty, of
noble mien, and lofty stature. There was a classic purity in the outline
of his face, that became more pleasing to the gazer from its being
accompanied by features of the most benevolent expression. A mild and
graceful spirit seemed shining in every look; and none could behold his
clear expansive forehead without feeling a conviction that he stood in
the presence of an intelligence of the highest order. A white turban was
carefully folded over his brows, covering the lower portion of a small
velvet cap that fitted close to the head. The upper part of his body
was robed in several vests, or short jackets, made of different stuffs,
in elegant patterns, each being of a different fabric and colour; and
beneath these an under garment, of remarkably fine linen, might be
observed. The waist was bound round with a rich silken sash, the ends
of which hung down on the left side; and below it, in very full folds,
descended to the knees a garment of a thick fabric, of a white colour
till near the skirt, where there appeared three narrow bands of light
blue: leggings of thin silk descended to the feet, which were cased in
shoes of fine leather; and an ample robe of embroidered purple cloth
hung loose from the shoulders.
"This is a magnificent street," remarked the young merchant, noticing a
line of palaces that stretched for a considerable distance on each side
of him.
"What noble porticoes--what lofty domes--what a beauty and harmony there
is in the arrangement of every building!" exclaimed Zabra. "Surely they
are inhabited by a race of princes."
"Of what are usually called princes, we know nothing," said the stranger
mildly. "This is the street of our great men. Here dwell our most
illustrious poets, philosophers, artists, and men of science."
"Can it be possible?" asked Fortyfolios. "How do they manage to acquire
such splendid dwellings?"
"When a citizen has shown by his works," resumed the stranger, "that he
possesses those intellectual powers that most ennoble human nature, the
public, out of gratitude for the gratifications they receive from his
superior intelligence, place him in a situation where he can be most
honoured, and where his own pleasures may correspond in degree with the
pleasures he is creating."
"Nothing can be more wise, don't you see," said the doctor; "and it has
been a disgrace to all civilised nations that their men of intellect,
the only nobles that any society can possess, have been so little cared
for, that few have ever enjoyed an adequate return for the labour and
the wealth they were bestowing upon their country. Rarely have they
been held in the estimation which their superiority in the only true
greatness which can distinguish humanity ought to command; and a vast
number have been left to battle with a selfish world, till, having
endured every species of suffering that can most afflict their sensitive
natures, steeped to the lips in poverty, weary and heartbroken, they lie
down in some obscure corner and die."
"We could not practise such injustice," observed the stranger; "and I am
surprised that any people should exist who know so little of their true
interests as to act in so unwise a manner. It is our object to enlighten
the community as much as may be possible; and knowing that the increase
of intelligence, when properly directed, is productive of a similar
increase of happiness, we naturally endeavour to testify to those who
are labouring to produce our felicity the interest we take in the
creation of theirs: we therefore consider them as benefactors, clothe
them with dignity, surround them with honour, allow them to have no want
ungratified, and convey within their reach every enjoyment that can make
their lives glide on without a care, a regret, or a disappointment. The
consequence has been, that the gifted, observing the estimation in which
excellence is held, strive with all their energies to become worthy of
the same distinction. From this cause our buildings have become the
finest in the world--our works of art have become the finest in the
world--the most wonderful discoveries exceed each other in every branch
of science--and in every department of philosophy some new and amazing
effort of genius is continually making itself manifest."
"What a desirable state of things!" exclaimed Oriel.
"But how do the people profit by their generosity?" inquired the
professor.
"Rather say by their gratitude," observed the stranger. "Knowledge is
imparted freely. There are free lectures, in which our great men make
public all the information that may most enlighten a community; books
are published on every subject, and distributed freely to those who
require them; and their authors, having no inclination ungratified,
and finding their greatest pleasure in diffusing the intelligence they
possess, employ their powers with nobler feelings than in other nation
the desire of money as an object of reward, or a means of existence, can
under any circumstances create; and the people, enjoying the wholesome
pleasures thus liberally conveyed to them, have neither inclination nor
time to contract vicious propensities, and follow the daily business of
life with pure hearts, and minds open to every ennobling impression."
"They must enjoy an extraordinary amount of happiness," observed Zabra.
"With what is usually called misery they are entirely ignorant,"
replied the stranger; "for as all their time is employed in the
right application of the means of enjoyment, they create no wrong;
consequently they cannot produce anything but happiness."
"Worthy Sophos!" exclaimed Fortyfolios. "In the streets through which we
have passed, although I have noticed every sort of warehouse and shop
for the purposes of trade, I have not seen any place for the sale of
intoxicating liquors; and among all the public buildings I have beheld,
I have not met with any thing which, from its appearance, I could
consider a prison."
"Intoxicating liquors we neither buy nor sell," replied Sophos. "The
pure beverage which nature has provided so liberally for our enjoyment,
confers upon us both health and pleasure; and although the indulgence of
every natural inclination is allowed, any intemperance in the enjoyment
of an appetite is punished with immediate and general disgrace; the
sensualist, the glutton, or the drunkard is avoided as unworthy to
associate with his fellow men, and the instances of such offences being
committed are so rare, that they are now looked upon as altogether
unnatural. As for prisons we do not want them; we have no use for them.
Such offences as crimes against life, or crimes against property;
crimes against the individual, or crimes against the state, are so few
that if we were to build a prison, we should find some difficulty in
getting in it a single inhabitant. We have long known that prisons do
not prevent crime. We are aware that wherever there have been the most
prisons, there have been the greatest number of criminals; and beholding
in the experience of ages the inutility of punishment as a preventive
to criminality, we came to the conclusion, that the only sure way of
preventing a man becoming a criminal, is to remove from his path all
temptations to crime. Every citizen having the free enjoyment of every
inclination, cannot possibly have a want that interferes with the
interests of the community; and we are exceedingly careful throughout
the educational course of life to prevent the existence of any
inclination that may be hurtful either to the individual or to the
society to which he belongs."
"Is this one of your religious edifices?" inquired Oriel, pointing to a
large building supported by elegant pillars, and having the appearance
of the highest degree of architectural excellence.
"It is, and it is not," replied Sophos, with a smile. "It is a religious
edifice, inasmuch as it is well calculated to assist in establishing
religious impressions, and it is used for the purpose of conveying moral
instruction to the hearts of those who enter its walls: and it is not a
religious edifice, because it is connected with no mystery, and is no
place for monks and priests, grovelling superstitions, and unmeaning
ceremonies. But you shall examine the interior." With these words he
ordered the carriage to be driven up to the gates, and the party
alighting, entered the edifice.
Having passed through lofty folding doors, they were ushered along a
vaulted hall of immense extent and admirable proportions. It was lighted
from the top by windows that spread around the whole circumference of
the dome in a series of circles, between which the roof was supported by
gigantic figures of white marble. The walls were painted in fresco,
with a variety of subjects executed in the first style of art, and the
object of every painting appeared to be to elevate the human mind into a
love of practical benevolence. Nothing barbarous, nothing cruel, nothing
unjust, nothing coarse, nothing that could create an unpleasant feeling,
had here been introduced; but all that was affectionate and true, and
pure and excellent, had been seized by the plastic genius of the artist,
and fixed in undying colours upon the wall.
In the different divisions that separated these pictures appeared short
moral maxims and philosophical sentences. Every religion seemed to have
furnished some portion of the instruction here conveyed. Near the truths
of Christianity might be observed the wisdom of Islamism; the Proverbs
of Solomon had a place by the side of the maxims of Zoroaster, and the
wisdom of Confucius was inscribed opposite the philosophy of Socrates.
Wherever the eye turned it caught something worthy of contemplation, and
whatever the mind contemplated it found impressive, unanswerable, and
impossible to be forgotten.
"What place do you call this?" inquired Oriel of his conductor.
"It is called the Hall of Wisdom and of Humanity," replied the stranger.
"And here, if the soul is fretted by pain or sorrow, or the heart yearns
for some refreshing influence, comes the citizen from the busy toils of
life, and gazing on these tokens of a benevolent power, and studying
these signs of a comprehensive intelligence, he finds that both his
heart and mind are strengthened--a love of excellence pervades all his
nature, and he passes back to the world with a cheerful spirit, giving
and partaking gladness."
"What are the principles of your religion?" asked Fortyfolios.
"The principles of our religion are the best principles of every
religion that has existed from the creation of the world," responded
Sophos. "We found every variety of faith could produce something
profitable. The worst religion has brought forth good men, good women,
and good citizens, and surrounded by the most degrading superstitions,
we invariably found some truth worthy of general appreciation. We also
found that the most enlightened religions produced bad men, bad women,
and bad citizens, and discovered amid the most wholesome truths they
endeavoured to inculcate, some pernicious superstition that destroyed
the efficacy of their doctrines. This led to a consideration of their
separate natures, and upon careful examination we discovered that from
the earliest ages, all people had been doing the same thing under
different names. They had personified two opposing principles--the
principle of good and the principle of evil, which they had worshipped.
In many religious systems the machinery was more complicated than in
others, but all were easily traced to the same source."
"Impossible!" exclaimed the professor.
"The names of God and Devil," continued Sophos, "are so obviously
modified from good and evil, and the attributes of each power are so
completely the attributes of each principle, that nothing more need be
said of their connection. They are the same things: as principles they
are the light and shadow of the moral world; as deities, the Alpha and
Omega of Christianity and Judaism. Vishnu the Preserver, and Siva the
Destroyer, the most important members of the Hindoo Pantheon--the
Ahrimanes and Ormuzd of Zoroaster, and the Fire Worshippers of
Persia--the Osiris and Typhon of the Egyptians--the Jupiter and Pluto of
the Greeks--and the great idols of every form of worship that had at any
time of the world existed, are but personifications of the opposing
principles good and evil."
"Not a doubt of it, don't you see," remarked Doctor Tourniquet.
"I do not believe anything of the kind," observed Fortyfolios: "it's
heathenish, abominable, and atheistical."
"Having made this analysis," continued the stranger, without attending
to the interruptions he had received, "we came to the determination of
making these principles our form of faith; that is to say, we made our
doctrines those of benevolence. Good was our God--Philanthropy was our
religion; and doing good became the way in which we endeavoured to
worship the Deity. The good principle is around us at all times while
we live, and creates our felicity, and produces the pleasures of those
around us; and death is the evil principle, which puts an end to the
happiness we were enjoying and creating."
"What is your form of government?" inquired Oriel.
"Our supreme head is called the Optimus, or the Best," replied Sophos.
"He is addressed by the title of our Benefactor the Optimus, and is
elevated to that dignity in consequence of his having distinguished
himself above his fellow-citizens by the superior excellence of his
wisdom and greatness of his philanthropy. He is assisted in the duties
of the government by an assembly of two hundred of the most experienced,
the wisest, and the best of his fellow-countrymen, who are called
Fathers; and from this assembly the people always choose their Optimus,
who reigns as long as his faculties permit him to exercise his judgment
for the benefit of the people, and his reign is called his Optimate.
Inferior in dignity to the assembly of Fathers, is a parliament of
five hundred, who are distinguished by the name of Brothers; and they
represent the interests of certain communities or disciples into
which our great family is divided. It must not be imagined from these
divisions and distinctions that there are any exclusive advantages or
separate interests amongst us. Any individual may obtain the highest
offices of the legislature by passing through the parliament of Brothers
and the assembly of Fathers, for which he must show himself well
qualified by knowledge, virtue, and benevolence. He gains neither
advantage nor profit--nothing but the esteem of his fellow-citizens; and
the people are classed into distinct communities of disciples, merely
that the interests of the whole shall receive a proper degree of
attention from the legislative."
"And do you find such a form of government answer the purpose for which
it was designed?" inquired Oriel.
"All," replied Sophos. "The laws are simple and few, and admirably
adapted to satisfy the wants of the people. We have no monopolies
to protect; we have no exclusive privileges to confer. There is no
legislative enactment passed which does not take into consideration the
happiness of each and all."
"It is wonderful to observe with how few laws a nation may be governed,"
said the doctor; "and it is equally surprising to notice with how many
laws a nation may be misgoverned, don't you see."
"Now let us enter the Hall of Public Benefactors," said the stranger;
and passing through a succession of elegant arches, he led the way to
another magnificent hall, similar in grandeur and beauty to the one
they had recently left. Statues, rather larger than life, were placed
in separate niches round the wall; and these statues represented
individuals who had rendered themselves illustrious by their virtues or
intelligence. In one place stood the figure of the immortal Howard; in
another that of the admirable Pestalozzi. Opposite these philanthropists
were the patriots Alfred, Leonidas, Sobieski, William Tell, and Hofer.
Here stood the impetuous Körner, and there the amiable Shelley. Jeremy
Bentham, Oberlin, Owen of Lanark, Sir Samuel Romilly, and Wilberforce
had places near Harvey, the discoverer of the circulation, Galileo,
Fenelon, Plato, Socrates, Newton, Bacon, and La Place; and Tasso, and
Petrarch, and Göthe, and Walter Scott, and Coleridge, and Wordsworth,
were seen by the side of Shakspeare, and Milton, and Cicero, and
Demosthenes, and Aristotle, and Plutarch. The most commanding
intellects, the noblest natures, the wisest, the best, and kindest of
human beings were here all represented in the plastic marble, and raised
high above the heads of those who were gazing upon them, as if to show
how elevated were such spirits above the common mass of mankind.
"Look! look!" exclaimed Zabra to his patron, with his eyes shining
with pleasure, pointing to a statue that was placed in one of the most
conspicuous situations in the chamber. Oriel looked in the required
direction, and, with a delight that kept him dumb, recognised the
statue of his father.