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Chapter XXI: The Consummation (5)

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Every one marvelled! The host addressed the Monomaniac in a gentle tone, entreating him to have more control over his temper, Those seated close to the supposed "enemy" declared loudly that he had made no grimaces; but their denial only increased the fury of the accuser. A bird-- considered a great delicacy--had just been placed before the host. It was arranged, as were our dishes generally, to please the eye as well as the palate, being ornamented with olives, sweetmeats, and other ingredients of varied colours. Birds, I may incidentally remark, are cooked without the bones; these are skilfully taken out and serve to enrich the gravy.

The Monomaniac again rose suddenly and, before his arm could be arrested, seized the fowl, larded as it was with accessories and dripping with gravy, and with all his force hurled it whole, with unerring aim, at the face of the supposed enemy. So great was his excitement, and so rapid his movements, that he had seized one of the "knife-spoons," and had he not been arrested, would probably have hurled that, and, indeed, everything within reach against the object of his fury.

At private dinners the number of guests never exceeds twelve, and at the back of each, corresponding to every seat, is a small closet, ordinarily used by each guest for his ablutions. Into one of these the Monomaniac was placed with considerable difficulty, everything with which he could injure himself having been previously removed. By the doctor's order he was treated as a patient and, after some time, the result of the application of the tests, then only recently discovered, showed that he was much affected with brain animalcula, which had been generated by the exhaustion of one part of the brain, in consequence of the incessant occupations of another portion, by one all-engrossing subject, without the relief of sufficient air, recreation, and bodily exercise.

The "supposed enemy" and the Monomaniac had been both occupied on the same subject; the latter was much superior, and had consequently attained greater distinction. Nothwithstanding this, he was fearful that the "enemy" would ultimately excel him.

At the end of a few months the Monomaniac was completely cured. It was not, however, until after a year's travel and change of scene that he was allowed to resume his old studies. He now became more brilliant than ever, and we were indebted to him for some valuable discoveries. He had learned that his supposed enemy was a real friend and true admirer of his great talents. He never suffered again from the affliction, which, had it not been arrested in time, would have ended in confirmed madness. He became more than ever a strong advocate for the observance of my laws in favour of recreation.

XLII.

THEATRES.

ELECTRICAL ENTERTAINMENTS--AMUSEMENTS--INTRODUCTION OF STRANGERS.

"....Even the daisies of the field grow in company...."

Besides theatres of another kind, there are large arenas, where the entertainments principally consist of feats worked out by electricity and produce effects far beyond anything as yet known in your planet. These arenas are open to the sky, for electric effects are not exhibited in roofed buildings, from fear of the explosions which would probably occur were antagonistic electricities brought in contact with each other in a covered space.

The games exhibited are varied; but, in all, electricity has some part. As I have already said, we have electricities, some attractive, some antipathetic to the human frame,--and by the aid of both kinds many interesting feats are performed.

I have seen a man and horse in the arena, who, at a given signal, would rise gradually and gracefully to a distance of more than fifty feet from the earth. When suspended in the air a cloud, like fire, would encircle them, and then after a certain time, sufficient for the spectators to observe and admire them, they would alight on the earth as gradually and gracefully as they had ascended.

THE FLYING CHILDREN.

In one of these arenas is a large sheet of running water, supplied by a cataract in the neighbourhood; and I have seen the most beautiful effects produced by children gliding over and as it were dancing on its surface. The children are selected from the most graceful and beautiful of those, who, not having sufficient intellect to learn, give no signs of making a progress which would fit them for more important occupations.

These children are taught and _willed_ to move in the most graceful forms. Joining hands and forming exceedingly beautiful groups, they will glide over the cascade and over the surface of the agitated lake, walking, dancing, or reposing.

WILL.

In assuming these graceful forms, the children are aided by a person skilled in the use of the Will, who, with the assistance of our "sympathetic-attracting machines," [1] can _will_ the children to take the most varied and graceful positions. The effect is fascinating, elevating, and refining.

[Footnote 1: See p. 265.]

The man who directs the sympathetic machine, _wills_ the figures from his imagination or memory, this being part of the art in which he is skilled.

In your planet, you do not know the extent of the power of the Will; and yet it is the Will--the Will of the Soul--which sets our vital electricity in motion, directs it on particular parts of its own machine--the brain--or on the sentient faculties of others. This same vital electricity can be used with greater force and certainty of direction, when assisted by the instrument which I have called "the sympathetic machine."

THE DEAF AND DUMB CHILD.

I have seen one little girl deaf and dumb--the only instance in my time--in consequence of a fright her mother had experienced. The child was of so nervous a temperament, that she could not be taught anything intellectual. She was lovely, with long hair that fell about her in graceful curls, and in whatever way she sat, moved, or reclined, her poses and movements were angelic.

It was found that the only thing which would awaken her dormant senses was electricity; and that, under its influence, she would be well and happy.

This child was at length taught to remain for some time together in one of her beautiful poses.

The circus in which I saw her is built close to a mountain or steep ascent, which rises almost perpendicularly to a great height. By the power of an attractive electricity, she would be made--whilst in one of her beautiful poses--to rise gradually, and to be borne flying, as it were, in the air. She would then be made to alight on the top of the high rock, where a halo of concentrated light was thrown on her; this clung about her, attracted by a solution with which her dress was sponged. The light was calculated to remain undissipated for half an hour.

After some time, and having taken the most graceful poses, encircled with the lovely halo, the child would glide off the rock and descend slowly and gracefully through the air--with the varied colours of the halo about her--as though she were a being of the celestial stars.

Of all exhibitions, I have never seen any more beautiful than this. It served admirably to raise, refine, and rouse the spectator to enthusiasm.

THE MONKEYS.

On the other hand, some of our electric exhibitions produce mirth. For instance, the effect of electricity on the monkeys in Montalluyah--who are very sagacious, having faces white like a human being, and talking like parrots--is ludicrous in the extreme. When engaged in chewing and eating their favourite nuts, they find themselves, in spite of their cunning, raised to a great height, without seeing the man underneath their pedestal, who impels them upwards with antipathetic electricity.

When they are thus in the air, and, in spite of all efforts, unable to descend, their antics are of the drollest kind. They, in turn, threaten and entreat the audience, but are soon reassured and liberally rewarded for the parts they have played in amusing the public.

Apart from the contemplation of electrical effects, these amusements may appear somewhat puerile. It should therefore be observed that our people generally retain to the last an almost child-like freshness of feeling, which renders them keenly susceptible to the most innocent pleasures. The tragic drama is for us extinct. Towards the middle of my reign, plays based upon crime ceased to be heard with pleasure, as the new generation, trained under the wholesome influence of my laws, could scarcely understand a plot relating to passions entirely foreign to their nature. The writers for our theatres, properly so called, have since that period confined themselves to subjects illustrative of country life in plain and mountain, and to incidents which, though happening at a distance, are known to occur.

No accidents arise. Our professors are very skilful, knowing the exact quantities of electricity required for a given time, and at what rate its power will decrease. Electricity in all its variations is thoroughly understood by our electricians.

Electricity, indeed, now forms part of the studies of youth in general, and its leading features form part of the early knowledge taught to both girls and boys.

There are races and public games of all kinds, and, besides the fêtes and amusements given by private persons, there are balls and social reunions given by the districts.

Even children have their parties and balls, to which they are taken from four years of age and upwards. The labouring people, or poor, have theirs. They go to work more cheerfully when they know that amusements are to follow, and return to their labours with redoubled energy. They are now contented and happy.

Old people, although allowed to attend the soirées of the young, have parties of their own, to which none who have not passed a certain age are admitted.

One day in the week is set apart for amusements of all kinds.

To the reunions given by the districts, all who have passed a certain age are invited, every seven days, until the age of forty; after forty, once in three weeks; after sixty, once in every six weeks. All who have not passed their fortieth year are expected to attend these reunions. Those who have passed forty may attend as often as they please.

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Another World: Fragments from the Star City of MontalluyahChapter XXI: The Consummation (5)

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