play. In the eyes of my courtiers, and of the many leading nobles
who have access to my personal society, I am regarded not merely in
theory but in very deed as a semi-divine creature, and am treated
with the requisite degree of honour. But so natural and well bred are
the manners of the Meleagrian aristocracy that this intense deference
never sinks to fawning, nor becomes personally inconvenient, so that
I can associate on terms of easy familiarity with many of them. With
their private affairs I have no great concern, seeing how strong is
the patriarchal rule in each family; but sometimes as a last resort my
opinion is invited, especially by the younger nobles, and such advice
as I deign to supply is invariably regarded as the acme of wisdom and
is promptly acted on.
With the commercial class I am brought much less into contact, so that
I have smaller opportunity of observing its members. From time to time,
however, I take pleasure in receiving accounts of travel by land and
sea from some of the more intrepid merchant adventurers who sail the
southern ocean, or penetrate the bleak hinterland of Barbaria. I have
also acquired some merit in their eyes by making an expedition to the
Barbarian coast, and visiting some of the settlements whence timber,
furs and fish are exported to the south. The Arch-priest has never
expressed any opposition to this display of interest on my part, and
he certainly encouraged my voyage to Barbaria; but I know well some
members of the College of Seventy at the time objected to my proposed
tour of inspection of the northern colonies. Their arguments, no doubt
voiced in the council chamber, must however have been over-ruled, for
my expedition was permitted.
By the third estate, as also by the large mass of indentured slaves or
servants, I am of course adored, worshipped and regarded as a Divine
Incarnation. My appearance in the judgment hall calls forth diurnal
blessings on my head, and persons of this class seek to kiss the hem
of my robe in passing, or even manœuvre so that my shadow may fall
upon them, much as the sick and decrepit of antique Asia Minor sought
a blessing in the shadows of the early Apostles. I need not pursue
this matter, for I have already made clear elsewhere the whole-hearted
loyalty of the populace towards their King.
Apart from this deep attachment to my person of the commonalty of the
kingdom, I possess too a certain amount of real power in the household
of the palace and in the regiments of horse and foot that form my
personal guards. All these wear my royal colour of blue in their
livery or uniform, together with my badge of the sun in splendour.
I can therefore well imagine the consequent jealousy and alarm of
some members of the hierarchy being aroused by such an exhibition of
potential strength, and I feel pretty sure of the presence of a number
of spies both among my domestics and in the ranks of the military, who
are constantly on the watch lest I should show any sign of pushing my
advantage by these means. As such never has been, is not and never will
be my intention, these official eavesdroppers can have nothing but what
is reassuring to report to their employers. Nevertheless, the thought
of this particular form of distrust is not pleasant, and it looms large
among the various trials and disadvantages I have to endure in my
exalted office.
VIII
Undoubtedly the most important feature in the whole body politic of
Meleager is the ruling caste of the priests. I have at different times
described these personages as a hierarchy of priests, as a college
of senators, as a Council of Seventy, as a committee of councillors;
but in reality none of these titles exactly expresses the nature or
powers of this small executive clique selected from the nobility. The
form, moreover, under which they are universally saluted or addressed
in Meleager is simply "Arxattra," which signifies "Master." I had
therefore better open with an account of the choice and composition of
this body, whose sole check consists in the King whom they themselves
call into being and can presumably dispose of in certain events. The
priesthood (to use a convenient though inexact term) consists of never
more than seventy-seven members nor less than seventy, and these are
recruited solely from the aristocracy. The admission to this body
is by election of the whole, and the candidates for this honour are
confined to a number of probationers of the seminary that is situated
within the precincts of the Temple of the Sun. These probationers
are jealously excluded from all outside social intercourse, and are
carefully educated for at least five years with the object in view by
members of the council itself. No one under the age of thirty-five
may be admitted for election, and it is usual, though not essential,
for the candidate to be a bachelor or a widower. On his election, the
successful candidate quits his college and retires to the Temple of
the Sun, where apartments exist for every member of the council. This
severe regulation as to age and family ties is obviously intended
to preserve the conservative traditions of the hierarchy, for the
human mind naturally is inclined to hark back affectionately to the
conditions prevailing in youth and to prefer such to any later standard
of morals and administration. At the same time the many services and
duties to be performed by the junior councillors require the election
of active and able-bodied members, for though the Temple of the Sun is
the headquarters and official home of these councillors, yet many of
them are in constant peregrination throughout the kingdom. Four priests
reside at Zapyro; three at Fúfani; two are said to be in residence
within the forbidden temple on Mount Crystal. All have their proper
spheres of work assigned to them, and membership of this all-powerful
council, far from being the sinecure I once conceived it, entails an
immense amount of exertion, both mental and physical.
From the moment of his election there is an amplitude of employment
for the new-comer. Thus of the junior councillors four hold the
onerous posts of registrars of all births and deaths throughout the
realm, their business in this capacity taking them far afield, for the
whole system of Meleagrian registration is closely bound up with its
public policy and edicts. Two more are concerned with the shipping
and fishing industries; two with the control and inspection of the
colonies in Barbaria; two are entrusted with the interests of the many
indentured labourers; two or more act as commissioners of forest lands;
at least four are charged with the important and troublesome duties
as regards public sanitation and hygiene; and so on till every public
department falls under the direct supervision of the nominees of this
Council of Seventy and more. Such a shuffling and allocation of public
offices may seem arbitrary and detestable to the windy demagogues of
our twentieth-century civilisation; but I can assure my readers, as
the result of my most careful and unbiased observation, the practical
effect on the well-being of the community at large far exceeds any
vaunted results that ever I saw or heard of in any democratic community
on Earth. Nor do I marvel; for jobbery, sentimentalism, waste,
financial dabbling, denominational intrigue, family influence are all
necessarily absent from the workings of a council that is composed only
of highly trained persons of gentle birth who, having resigned all the
domestic and material interests of life, have no private or monetary
ends to consider, but act solely for the benefit of the state, which
they have chosen voluntarily to serve after a long preliminary course
of special education.
Whenever a member of the council dies, or through failure of health is
placed on an honorary footing, the vacant place is quickly filled. The
last elected member of the hierarchy summons the chosen probationer
and leads him to the council chamber where his brother members are
assembled. Here he kneels, whilst a homily on the nature of the high
honour conferred on him and the vast sum of confidence reposed in him,
is read aloud by the Arch-priest, who acts as president. Impressive
rites follow, for nothing is omitted to prove to the new member the
terrible fate that awaits any councillor who may be found guilty of any
disloyalty, or of even breathing a hint of The Secret, which he is now
empowered to learn. What is the fate reserved for any indiscreet or
treacherous councillor I cannot say; but I fancy breaches of confidence
in the council itself must have been as rare in the past annals of
Meleager as was the crime of Marino Faliero in those of the old
Venetian republic, whose constitution, by the way, has evidently been
carefully digested by the hierarchy. The oath of implicit obedience and
of absolute silence having been administered, the new member is then
led forward to have his crimson cloak and tunic removed and replaced
by the voluminous white robes of his new order. He next receives the
formal congratulations of all his colleagues, and is then made fully
acquainted with the nature of The Secret, though I myself have a pretty
shrewd notion his mind has already been cautiously prepared beforehand
for its reception, so that he in fact possesses something more than a
mere inkling of the impending revelation, which is announced with due
solemnity. Here however the new member's information ceases, so that he
possesses exactly the same limited amount of knowledge of The Secret
as do I myself. Whether the new councillor will eventually arrive at
a position of such trust and reputation as to be invited to enter the
interior ring of the council, time alone can show. And it is of this
paramount inner force within the council that I now wish to speak.
Of this small secret council within a larger secret council I can only
state with certainty that its numbers vary from fourteen (the minimum)
to twenty, which latter figure is never exceeded. The members of this
inner clique are elected from the other members of the council, but on
what principles I cannot say. The great difference between the larger
and the smaller sets within the council is this: the latter not only
know The Secret, but they are the individuals who carry out its details
and work its machinery for the purposes I have already explained.
With one exception every member of this interior circle has some time
or another performed the voyage between the Earth and Meleager; and
how strangely does it strike me in my utter solitude to reflect that
here in Meleager are nearly a score of persons whose acquaintance with
the planet of my birth is in some ways more extensive than my own!
The sole exception is the Arch-priest, who may not be transported
to Earth, because he is the one person who is in constant and close
touch with the King. The limitation is subtle, but it is sound; for
I can imagine some fine possibilities of intrigue between the King
and the Arch-priest, if the latter had not only visited the Earth but
was also familiar with the extraordinary methods whereby that end was
attained. (I need hardly add that no senator of the inner ring is ever
allowed to address or visit the King except in the presence of two
other councillors.) This picked handful of the council chooses the
Arch-priest from the general body, so that this functionary stands in
an intermediate position of knowledge concerning the working of The
Secret, for he thus knows more than the ordinary member of the council
and less than his brethren of the inner ring. He is chiefly charged
with the control of the services and staff of the temple, and he has
also to superintend the establishment on Mount Crystal, where (so I
strongly suspect) are kept in honourable confinement those aged members
of the council who have grown infirm or garrulous under stress of
years. What exact share these persons of the inner ring partake in the
working of The Secret I naturally cannot tell; and I often speculate
as to whether they themselves are mechanicians possessing a skill
far beyond that achieved by any of our engineers on Earth, or whether
they merely control certain servants who own the necessary technical
knowledge to carry out the intricacies of the aerial machinery under
their instruction. In other words, are these score of elderly men their
own mechanics, or are they only overseers of others? For there are
certainly large numbers of assistants attached to the service of the
council, and a certain proportion of these menials I know to be deaf
and dumb, the result, it is whispered, of a certain cruel operation
which is inflicted sometimes with the consent of the patient, and
sometimes (so I gather) by force following on brutal seizure. Is it
that the priests are ever on the look-out for capable young mechanics
to train for this purpose, and are such promising youths liable to
disappear? On the other hand, many of these deaf and dumb servants of
the temple have families, and apart from their unknown duties seem
free to come and go; being dumb, they cannot chatter, and being deaf
they cannot listen; and since the native language is purely phonetic
and not literary, people so afflicted cannot converse with their
fingers, as is the case with our deaf-mutes on Earth. My own theory
is that these persons, having a natural taste in things scientific,
are first carefully trained so as to acquire all the technical skill
necessary for the accomplishment of the details of The Secret, and are
then to their surprise suddenly given the option of being rendered
deaf and dumb to be thus retained in the service of the council, or
of being instantly and privately executed, for the hierarchy would
have no scruples in so acting if by their refusal to submit The Secret
were in any way endangered. All this reasoning however on my part is,
I admit, founded on pure supposition. For aught I can adduce to the
contrary, the journey to and from the Earth may be accomplished by
means of some unknown power of levitation, such as is only claimed on
Earth by the mahatmas and skooshoks of Tibet, whose wild theories are
laughed to scorn by all enlightened Europeans and Americans. There are,
I know, vast vaults beneath the Temple of the Sun, and perhaps these
may shelter aeroplanes and cars of a type and capacity undreamed of on
Earth; on the other hand, these capacious cellars may merely contain
treasure and archives, or indeed nothing at all. Possibly there may be
elaborate machines concealed in the temple on Mount Crystal, for I am
convinced that it is on this conspicuous mountain that the returning
Meleagrian envoys from the Earth alight. But I frankly confess I am
completely at a loss to explain the system of communication with the
Earth; it is a fascinating subject for speculation, but I am also fully
cognizant of its perils to any would-be investigator.
Although there can be comparatively little fear of intrigue arising
between the King and the councillors of the second grade, yet there
exists no real friendliness or confidence between us. They treat me
outwardly with marked deference, whilst I in my turn always show myself
cordial and polite, but I have no personal friend in the whole body
except the Arch-priest, for whom I have conceived a genuine liking
and respect. My intimate companions are practically confined to the
nobility, and though they are ignorant and illiterate, yet I prefer
their honest prattle to any cautious discussion or interchange of lofty
ideas with the highly educated priesthood. Nevertheless, I cannot
refrain from eulogising the unselfish devotion of these persons to
their tasks of administration, which is shown equally by every member.
The clique of the interior circle do not of course participate in the
actual business of government, for they are presumed to have reached
a higher plane of usefulness to the state, but the junior councillors
pursue their avocations with unflagging zeal. The tedious work of
registration, which entails constant vigilance and many journeys to
remote places; the settlement of trade questions; the management of
the twin departments of medicine and sanitation; the marshalling of
taxation; the control of the army;--all these and many other duties
occupy the whole existence of the councillors who know no rest or
respite from their allotted tasks.
Take the instance of hygiene alone. The accumulated wisdom of some two
thousand years of the Earth's progress in the science of healing lies
all at the disposal of the executive hierarchy of Meleager. And I feel
compelled to pay a sincere tribute to the intelligent industry of the
councillors in their untiring efforts to produce everywhere a "_corpus
sanum in civitate sanâ_." The abundant water-supplies of the cities;
the meticulous care wherewith every source of contamination is traced;
the constant experiments that are made daily in the hospitals (less
elaborately equipped than our own, but fully as clean and serviceable);
the thoughtful measures to preserve existing health and to improve the
physical condition of the mass of the citizens;--all testify to the
common-sense and thoroughness of the means adopted by the ministers of
public hygiene and eugenics. Thanks to their wise measures pure water,
pure air, wholesome food, the prompt eradication of all epidemics, and
the segregation of the physically or morally unsound are gradually
producing a race that for health and happiness has no parallel on our
progressive democratic Earth, where the boasted advance of European
civilisation only conveys in its train to healthy but nominally
uncivilised tribes and nations every species of moral, physical and
æsthetic evil that did not exist under the old conditions of isolation
and ignorance.
Although belonging to the aristocratic caste, yet these servants of
the state wield their power with magnificent impartiality, weeding out
the weaklings alike in the families of noble, merchant or plebeian.
Adult degenerates are always removed to the island of Madù off the
northern coast. Here the sexes are kept apart, but the poor creatures
are permitted to live in tolerable comfort and to receive visits from
their relatives, who however (it must be confessed) usually display no
very marked anxiety to avail themselves of this privilege. For as time
advances, it is commonly coming to be regarded as a social offence to
harbour in one's household any idiotic or misshapen being. Thus almost
all Meleagrians now heartily concur in the state regulations whereby
all infants with obvious mental or bodily defects are at once strangled
by the officials who attend in the train of the visiting councillors,
and they also make little or no objection to the deporting of grown
criminals to Madù.
This public acquiescence in a measure destined solely for the
improvement of the race as a whole is, I believe, of comparatively
recent date. For a long time the removal of malformed and idiotic
infants, as well as the enforced deportation of lunatics or seriously
diseased persons, was strongly resented by their families; but firm
persistence on the part of the hierarchy and a gradual spread of
reasonableness among the whole community have slowly gained the public
approval for severe regulations that were at first as novel as they
were distasteful. I particularly mention this case, as it tends to
show that though conciliation of the populace must always form one
of the leading tenets of the council's policy, yet it can on occasion
enforce an unpopular edict throughout the nation in its own interest,
despite the indignant protests of all classes. I have been told that
the then reigning King, a most enlightened Switzer, did splendid
service for the council by personally in his capacity of Child of the
Sun, ordering his father's own people to obey the new regulations.
How long ago this struggle arose I have no notion; and oh, how often
have I yearned to learn more concerning that predecessor of mine whose
memory is still gratefully held by the hierarchy to-day! How and under
what circumstances did he finally "cease to reign"? Did he later on
attempt to oppose the ruling body, after having saved it from possible
collapse? But no questions of mine, however artfully or artlessly
addressed, could ever secure me any but evasive answers.
I can never fix in my inconstant mind my exact feeling towards these
"potent, grave and reverend signiors" of the council, these impassive
and industrious priests (who are in reality not priests at all, for
their task is almost purely a secular one, the priestly office being
practically merged in that of the statesman). And in the performance
of these duties they are as unselfish as they are indefatigable; nor
is there any apparent taint of personal jealousy or internal intrigue
amongst the hierarchy. When during my rides abroad for pleasure or
for hunting I see a pair of these white-robed councillors, equally
servants and rulers of the state, visit some remote hamlet and observe
the scrupulous care and the genuine interest wherewith they inquire
into and carry out every necessary arrangement for the public weal;
and when I consider the implicit faith placed by the country folk in
their rulers, I am somehow reminded of the mission of the Apostles of
old as they wandered through the towns and villages of the Roman world
healing and assisting helpless humanity. At other times, however, I
am inclined to regard them with a mixture of hatred and contempt,
whenever I reflect on the unprecedented system of conscious fraud
whereon all their beneficent action rests. How strange, for example,
must it seem for a newly elected candidate to learn for the first
time that the religious teaching he has imbibed from infancy is a
deliberate fabrication, which he himself is now called on to champion
and perpetuate; that the divinity of the Sun is a hollow myth; that his
Child is a mortal from another planet; that the world of Meleager, far
from being the special creation and care of the Sun-god, is in reality
a mere speck in a vast solar system, such as has been propounded by
our own astronomers Copernicus and Galileo. What a terrible moment it
must prove for a sensitive soul, implected with the beautiful mythology
of a lifetime, when in a trice the whole of his religious environment
is stripped rudely from him like a garment! I often meditate on the
unique moral dilemma that must face every new councillor. How fearful
an awakening! How difficult for a conscientious nobleman to combine the
two phases of a public benefactor and of a promulgator of an elaborate
lie! Has any Meleagrian noble of high integrity I wonder ever had the
courage or conscience, at the supreme moment, to protest, even at the
risk of death? But I presume the preliminary training and preparation
bestowed on all probationers are carefully contrived to soften so
great a shock, and to lead the postulant gently towards the amazing
revelations made at the time of his reception into the council.