NEW FRIENDS.
"Having established his equality with class after class, of
those with whom he would live well, he still finds certain
others, before whom he cannot possess himself, because they have
somewhat fairer, somewhat grander, somewhat purer, which extorts
homage of him."--EMERSON.
It is scarcely egotistical for me to say that I was much sought after,
not only by the citizens of Thursia, but by many distinguished people
from other cities and countries. Among them were many men and women of
great scientific learning, who made me feel that I ought to have
provided myself with a better equipment of knowledge relative to my
own world, before taking my ambitious journey to Mars! They were
exceedingly polite, but I fear they were much disappointed in many of
my hazy responses to their eager questionings. I learned by this
experience the great value of exact information. In a country like
ours, where so much, and so many sorts, of knowledge are in the air, a
person is apt, unless he is a student of some particular thing, to get
little more than impressions.
There was I,--an average (let me hope!) American citizen,--at the
mercy of inquisitive experts in a hundred different arts and trades,
concerning which, in the main, my ideas might be conservatively
described as "general." You may imagine how unsatisfactory this was to
people anxious to know about our progress in physics and chemistry,
botany, and the great family of "ologies,"--or rather about our
processes in developing the principles of these great sciences.
With the astronomers and the electricians I got along all right; and I
was also able to make myself interesting,--or so I fancied--in
describing our social life, our educational and political
institutions, and our various forms of religion. Our modes of dress
were a matter of great curiosity to most of these people, and I was
often asked to exhibit my terrestrial garments.
It was when the crowd of outside visitors was at its thickest that the
Caskians arrived, and as their stay was brief, covering only two days,
you may suppose that we did not advance far on the road to mutual
acquaintance. But to tell the truth, there was not a moment's
strangeness between us after we had once clasped hands and looked into
each other's eyes. It might have been partly due to my own
preparedness to meet them with confidence and trust; but more, I
think, to their singular freedom from the conventional barriers with
which we hedge round our selfness. Their souls spoke to mine, and mine
answered back, and the compact of friendship was sealed in a glance.
I cannot hope to give you a very clear idea of their perfect
naturalness, their perfect dignity, their kindliness, or their
delightful gayety,--before which stiffness, formality, ceremony, were
borne down, dissolved as sunshine dissolves frost. No menstruum is so
wonderful as the quality of merriment, take it on any plane of life;
when it reaches the highest, and is subtilized by cultured and refined
intellects, it creates an atmosphere in which the most frigid autocrat
of society, and of learning, too, must thaw. The haughtiest dame
cannot keep her countenance in the face of this playful spirit toying
with her frills. The veriest old dry-as-dust, hibernating in mouldy
archæological chambers, cannot resist the blithesome thought which
dares to illumine his antique treasures with a touch of mirth.
I was struck by Clytia's beauty, which in some ways seemed finer than
Elodia's. The two women were about the same height and figure. But
Clytia's coloring was pure white and black, except for the healthy
carmine of her lips, and occasional fluctuations of the rose tint in
her cheeks.
I was present when they first met, in the drawing-room. Elodia rose to
her full stature, armed cap-a-pie with her stateliest manner, but with
a gracious sense of hospitality upon her. I marked with pleasure that
Clytia did not rush upon her with any exuberance of gladness,--as some
women would have done in a first meeting with their friend's
sister,--for that would have disgusted Elodia and driven her to still
higher ground. How curious are our mental attitudes toward our
associates, and how quickly adjusted! Here had I been in Elodia's
house, enjoying her companionship--if not her friendship--for months;
and yet, you see, I secretly did not wish any advantage to be on her
side. It could not have been disloyalty, for the impulse was swift and
involuntary. I would like to suppose that it sprang from my
instantaneous recognition of the higher nature; but it did not. It was
due, no doubt, to a fear for the more timid one--as I fancied it to
be. I had a momentary sensation as of wanting to "back"
Clytia,--knowing how formidable my proud hostess could be, and, I
feared, would be,--but the beautiful Caskian did not need my support.
She was not timid. I never saw anything finer than her manner; the
most consummate woman of the world could not have met the situation
with more dignity and grace, and with not half so much simplicity. Her
limpid dark eyes met Elodia's blue-rayed ones, and the result was
mutual respect, with a slight giving on Elodia's part.
I felt that I had, for the first time in my life, seen a perfect
woman; a woman of such fine proportions, of such nice balance, that
her noble virtues and high intelligence did not make her forget even
the smallest amenities. She kept in hand every faculty of her triple
being, so that she was able to use each in its turn and to give to
everything about her its due appreciation. She had, as Balzac says,
the gift of admiration and of comprehension. That which her glance
rested upon, that which her ear listened to, responded with all that
was in them. I thought it a wonderful power that could so bring out
the innate beauties and values of even inanimate things. Elodia's eyes
rested upon her, from time to time, with a keen and questioning
interest. I think that, among other things, she was surprised--as I
was--at the elegance, the "style" even, of Clytia's dress.
Although there is very little fashion on that planet, as we know the
word, there is a great deal of style. I had speedily mastered all its
subtle gradations, and could "place" a woman with considerable
certainty, by, let me say, her manner of wearing her clothes, if not
the clothes themselves. I have never studied woman's apparel in
detail, it always seems as mysterious to me as woman herself does; but
I have a good eye for effects in that line, as most men have, and I
knew that Clytia's costume was above criticism. She wore, just where
they seemed to be needed,--as the keystone is needed in an arch,--a
few fine gems. I could not conceive of her putting them on to arouse
the envy of any other woman, or to enhance her personal charms in the
eyes of a man. She dressed well, as another would sing well. Sight is
the sense we value most, but how often is it offended! You can
estimate the quality of a woman by the shade of green she chooses for
her gown. And there is poetry in the fit of a gown, as there is in the
color of it. Clytia knew these things, these higher principles of
dress, as the nightingale knows its song,--through the effortless
working of perfected faculties. But not she alone. My description of
her will answer for the others; the Caskians are a people, you see,
who neglect nothing. We upon the Earth are in the habit of saying,
with regretful cadence, Life is short. It is because our life is all
out of proportion. We are trying to cheat time; we stuff too much
plunder into our bags, and discriminate against the best.
Clytia and Calypso and their friend Ariadne, a young girl, stayed with
us throughout their visit; the others of their party were entertained
elsewhere. On each of the two evenings they were with us, Elodia
invited a considerable company of people,--not so many as to crowd the
rooms, nor so few as to make them seem empty. Those gatherings were
remarkable events, I imagine, in a good many lives.
They were in mine. At the close of each evening I retired to my room
in a state of high mental intoxication; my unaccustomed brain had
taken too large a draught of intellectual champagne. And when I awoke
in the morning, it was with a sense of fatigue of mind, the same as
one feels fatigue of body the day after extraordinary feats of
physical exertion.
But not so the guests! who came down into the breakfast room as
radiant as ever and in full possession of themselves. With them
fatigue seemed impossible. We do not know--because we are so poorly
trained--the wonderful elasticity of a human being, in all his parts.
We often see it exemplified in single faculties,--the voice of a
singer, the legs of a runner, the brain of a lawyer, the spirit of a
religionist. But, as I have said before, we are all out of proportion,
and any slight strain upon an unused faculty gives us the cramp. The
fact is, the most of us are cripples in some sense. We lack a moral
leg, a spiritual arm; there are parts of us that are neglected,
withered, paralyzed.
One thing in the Caskians which especially pleased me, and which I am
sure made a strong--and favorable--impression upon Elodia, too, was
that their conduct and conversation never lacked the vital human
interest without which all philosophy is cold, and all religion is
asceticism.
It appeared that these people had taken the long journey not only to
meet me, but that they might extend to me in person a cordial
invitation to visit their country. Severnius warmly urged me to
accept, assuring me, with unmistakable sincerity, that it would give
him pleasure to put his purse at my disposal for the expenses of the
journey,--I having brought up this point as a rather serious obstacle.
As it would only add one more item to the great sum of my indebtedness
to my friend, I took him at his word, and gave my promise to the
Caskians to make the journey to Lunismar sometime in the near future.
And with that they left us, and left behind them matter for
conversation for many a day.