# Colymbia/Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV.
HIEROGLYPHICS AND TRANSCENDENTAL GEOGRAPHY.
EDUCATION is pretty generally diffused among the Colymbians, but, of course, all classes are not educated alike. There are schools for the masses where the language, writing, arithmetic and sundry useful arts are taught. As all the places under Government, except the chief offices of state, are obtained by competitive examination, the education of the young men of the upper ranks, among whom places under Government are the great objects of ambition, is, as a rule, very sedulously carried out; but the branches of knowledge taught are chiefly those which form the subjects of examination.
Now, though the employments under Government are of the most varied sorts, requiring, one would think, a different education for each office, I found that the examinations for all are nearly identical. Whatever the office, whether it be a simple clerkship, a secretaryship, an appointment as an inspector of light, air, drainage or police, as a lawyer or an instructor, the main subject on which candidates are examined is the hieroglyphical writing on the monuments and in the ancient documents of the land.
​I was unable to discover that a knowledge of the hieroglyphical writing would ever be of any use to the candidates after they had obtained the office they desired. I was told that no useful information whatever could be got from the writing, that it mostly consisted of absurd myths and incredible fables and displayed an almost total unacquaintance with the simplest and best known physical facts. Yet, notwithstanding this, it was held that every person who aspired to a place under Government should show a tolerable acquaintance with the hieroglyphics, and give proof that he had wasted some years of his life in their study.
The colleges where these hieroglyphics are taught, are frankly denominated "Seminaries of Useless Knowledge," and it is generally believed that the acquirement of this useless knowledge is an excellent thing for exercising and opening the mind, and especially that it distinguishes the gentleman from the common herd.
When I ventured to express a mild doubt as to the expediency of devoting so much time to the acquisition of this useless knowledge, I was immediately met with the unanswerable argument that experience had shown that it expanded the intellect, led to habits of industry and application and enabled him who had been thoroughly grounded in it to acquire thereafter all the branches of mere utilitarian knowledge with the utmost facility. In short, I found the prejudice in favour of hieroglyphics so strong, that it almost seemed to be thought that if the study of hieroglyphics were done away with, the race would incontinently lapse into barbarism.
As it would have done no good to run counter to the settled prejudices of the natives, I did not attempt ​to argue the point, but merely mentally registered the partiality for hieroglyphics as another of the eccentricities of this singular people.
Besides this useless knowledge, the young men are well instructed in natural science, mechanics, chemistry, music and the fine arts.
Music especially, as might have been expected, is thoroughly taught. All who wish to qualify themselves for the higher offices in the legislature or under Government, are well grounded in the intricacies of counter-point, for without a professional knowledge of this, it is impossible to attain a distinguished place in the state or even in society.
Another subject of study, or branch of learning, which is even more generally taught and diffused than any of those I have mentioned, is what goes by the name of "transcendental geography."
The professors of this science are taught in special colleges, in which they obtain diplomas which entitle them to teach the science to others. All ranks and both sexes are expected to acquire a smattering of this science, and there are vast halls where large numbers periodically assemble for instruction therein. This is a science which is cultivated during the whole period of life. No one is deemed to be able to acquire it thoroughly, for all are expected to attend the periodical lectures on it up to the remotest term of life. And yet it seemed to me that all that could be learnt about it might well have been taught in a few lessons. Still it is the established custom of the country to attend the lectures delivered at stated periods, from early youth to extreme old age. None seem to think that they can ever have too much of transcendental geography.
​It was a considerable time ere I could make out precisely what was taught under this high-sounding name. Indeed the bases of the science do not seem to be very clearly defined, as its principles are couched in such vague and hazy language that they are susceptible of very different explanations, and it is seldom that any two professors agree in their interpretation. Indeed there are endless disputations and discussions among themselves with regard to the very first principles of the science. All contend that a knowledge of transcendental geography is essential for every one, that by it alone can society be held together and kept in the right direction, that without it the bonds of society would be loosened and universal confusion ensue.
The common points of agreement among the professors seem to be these. There exists somewhere—but as no one had ever been there, so no one affected to know where—a vast country, whither all Colymbians would some day go provided they had accurate views respecting the said country. But, as no Colymbian had ever, as far as is known, gone thither, it seems to me that none have fulfilled the primary condition of having a perfect knowledge of it. Opinions vary as to the physical characters of this unknown country, and still more as to the character of its supposed inhabitants and the form of government that obtains there. And yet it is thought indispensable that they should frame their own conduct on the supposed conduct of the inhabitants of this unknown country, and act in conformity with the wishes of its ruler or rulers.
There are certain old books supposed to have been written by persons who had peculiar opportunities of obtaining an insight into the way of life in this terra ​incognita and into the wishes of its ruler. But the language of these old books is extremely vague, and often quite contradictory; and even when any distinct intimation of the practices of the unknown people is given, they are obviously so utterly unsuited to the circumstances of the Colymbians, that any imitation of them would be impossible or, at least, very undesirable. So that these books, though theoretically held to be authoritative, are practically discarded, and each professor excogitates for himself a line of conduct which he boldly asserts is pleasing to the ruler of the unknown country, and which is more or less in conformity with the habits of his audience, though it bears no sort of resemblance to, any thing the books tell about the customs of the unknown land, nay, is sometimes the exact opposite of these.
It was, indeed, no easy matter to adapt rules of life framed for a terrestrial people to the regulation of the conduct of an aquatic race. Thus, for example, one of the best authenticated customs of the unknown country is the wearing of long flowing robes, but it is impossible to wear such robes in the water with any comfort. The difficulty is usually evaded by saying that the wearing of long robes is only to be understood "figuratively;" and, indeed, this term is employed to smooth many other difficulties in the teaching of transcendental geography. Whenever a habit of the unknown people is inapplicable to the circumstances of the Colymbians, the professors generally tell their hearers that it is to be understood "figuratively," and that they are to imitate the custom in a "figurative" manner. I am not aware that they or their hearers usually attach any precise meaning to the expression "figuratively," but the use of it ​seems to be a ready method of reconciling all inconsistencies and contradictions between the customs and fashions of the unknown people and their would-be imitators, and it serves the great bulk of the professors with a facile solution of the difficulty.
Some few professors will not adopt this solution, but insist on their disciples imitating literally the customs of the unknown people. These persons are regarded by the general community as eccentric fanatics and not quite right in the head. I don't know in what else they try to conform to the customs of the unknown people, but I know that they wear long flowing robes which have an exceedingly droll and awkward appearance in the water.
The ancient books contain a large number of maxims, as the professors call them, but which seemed to me rather to deserve the name of truisms, which the professors say are peculiar to transcendental geography, and would never have been known had it not been for the books. No professor ever quotes any of these maxims without claiming for them an exclusively transcendental character. I may mention a few of these sayings, which the reader will perceive are of the tritest character, "The whole is greater than a part;" "No one can be in two places at the same time" (they were not as far advanced as our legislator who felicitously added, "unless he is a bird"); "A small loaf is better than no bread." Some of the maxims are not applicable to aquatic life, such as:—"If you try to sit between two stools you will fall to the ground;" "Spur not the willing horse." Many more I could enumerate, but these will suffice. The professors are hard put to it to adapt such sayings to Colymbian audiences, as the Colymbians do not sit ​on stools or ride on horses. They have to fall back on the "figurative" sense in which they allege them to be used in the books.
The books likewise contain sundry precepts of the same trite character, as: "Do not play with sharp-edged tools;" "Do not say or do anything to annoy others;" "Do not eat more than is good for you," and so on.
Once when a professor was vaunting the eminently transcendental character of these maxims and precepts, I ventured to remark that precisely the same maxims and precepts were to be met with in all terrestrial countries, and that I believed they were merely the expression of the common sense of all mankind. But he was thoroughly persuaded that mankind could not have found them out for themselves, and that they must first have been taught them by the ancient books. Without denying that they existed among terrestrial communities, he inferred from that very circumstance that at some remote period a transcendental professor had by some means or other been conveyed to a terrestrial country and had taught the inhabitants some of the wisdom of transcendental geography.
Some of the precepts of the ancient books are quite opposed to the habits of the Colymbians, and even to the doctrines inculcated by the professors. Thus, the books said, that if your enemy kicked you on one shin, you were to present him the other shin to be similarly kicked; and if a pickpocket emptied the contents of one of your pockets, you were at once to offer him the contents of the other pocket. Now, Colymbians of all classes, I observed, kicked those who kicked them, and punished those whom they detected stealing from them; and the professors themselves invariably acted in this way. When I called the attention of one of ​the latter to the apparent opposition of the practice to the precept, he denied that there was any opposition; it was only because my defective transcendental education disabled me from perceiving the perfect agreement between the precepts of the books and the practice of their interpreters. When my transcendental education was complete, he observed, I should be able to see the harmony of the books' precepts with the doctrines and practice of the professors. I felt that my transcendental education was still very far from perfect.
The books convey but little information respecting the physical geography of the unknown country, so little can be said about it; but the professors consider themselves perfectly free to discourse at any length on its metaphysical geography, for an account of which they make large draughts on their imagination; and as it is entirely a matter of fancy, the descriptions of the professors differ infinitely among one another and are often mutually contradictory. But this does, not seem to create any perplexity in their hearers' minds.
It is evident that the latitude the generality of the professors allow themselves in the interpretation of the records of the unknown country, enables them to vary their lectures ad infinitum. In fact, the subject of transcendental geography is used by many merely as a peg to hang all sorts of theories upon; an excuse for inculcating all the notions of the individual lecturer on morality, education, politics, science, or anything else equally irrelevant. Hence, probably, the reason why people can go on year after year nominally attending lectures on transcendental geography, while really they are listening to the views ​of a more or less intelligent and eloquent man on all possible subjects.
Although the Colymbians are such sticklers for the teaching of transcendental geography, I could not observe that the science exercised the slightest influence on their actions or dealings with one another. I found among my acquaintances several who declared the unknown country, which formed the theme of the transcendental geographers, to have no existence; or, if it had, that no human being knew anything about it, or could tell what were the manners and customs of the inhabitants or the form of their government. And yet the mode of life and behaviour under all circumstances of these anti-transcendentalists differed in no appreciable manner from those of the transcendentalists.
I noticed, to be sure, that transcendental geography sometimes produced an effect on the phraseology of its more enthusiastic votaries. One could never be long in their company without hearing some reference to the unknown country, and they were in the habit of rebuking actions they did not approve of by saying, "that is not according to the manners of the unknown people," just as we sometimes say when a person makes a false reckoning, "That's not according to Cocker."
The chief visible effect produced on the Colymbians by their transcendental geography is the singular custom of its professors in always wearing, day and night, a very stiff collar of green-tinted shark's skin, which is certainly not becoming, and must be particularly inconvenient in the conditions of their life. But the wearers evidently attach a high value to this collar, and would not part with it on any account, ​even if they could, which is doubtful, for the collars are fixed in such a firm manner round their throats, that it would be impossible to remove them without utterly destroying them.
These collars they obtain at the colleges of transcendental geography after a very severe examination, which, as is invariably the case with all examinations here under Government control, as this is, is principally on the hieroglyphics and scarcely touches on geography. Along with the collar the successful candidates obtain the title of "Transcendental," as an affix to their name, and of this they are vastly proud. In fact, with their collar and their title they seemed to me to consider themselves, and are regarded by some of their hearers, as beings of a superior race to all not so decorated. Some of the men of Colymbia, moved doubtless by envy at the prestige given to the professors, and believing it was due more to the collar they wore than to the subject they professed, endeavoured to get up an agitation in order to induce the legislature to pass a kind of sumptuary law, compelling the transcendental professors to discard their green collars which gave them an unfair advantage in general society, or at least to confine the wearing of it to the actual time when they were engaged in lecturing. But this move failed most signally, as it was easily to be foreseen it would, and the consequence was that the collars of the professors became greener, higher and stiffer than ever, to the disgust of their opponents, and to the great discomfort of the wearers, who, however, bore their sufferings with fortitude as they saw the annoyance they caused their enemies.
The young men of my acquaintance mostly exhibited a remarkable reluctance to talk about transcendental ​geography, which, however, they must have studied for many years, for some of them still attended, with surprising regularity, the periodical lectures on the subject. When I pressed them on the point, they either gave me an astonished stare, as if to express their amazement that I could trouble myself about it, or they would say, "As it was no concern of theirs, they did not profess to understand it." Some would admit in confidence that they did not derive the slightest benefit from the constant instruction given in transcendental geography; but they were, notwithstanding, strong advocates for its retention as a branch of general education, for they were convinced it did a great deal of good to their neighbours, and especially to those who were but scantily educated in other matters. As for themselves, though it could do them no good, they attended the lectures regularly, by way of example, pour encourager les autres.
I encountered few enthusiasts for the science among my male friends, excepting always the professors themselves; but many of the ladies are very zealous for the diffusion of a knowledge of transcendental geography, and some even assist the public labours of the professors by their own private efforts.
It seemed to me that the ladies who chiefly occupied themselves in this manner were seldom very young, and, if young, were rarely among the best-looking. I observed that they did not frequent the gyrating assemblies, which I imagined might be due to their having little chance of being selected as partners by the young men, among their prettier and more graceful female companions. But I was mistaken, for one of them assured me it was entirely by their own choice that they eschewed these frivolous assemblies, as she ​called them, and devoted themselves to the diffusion of a knowledge of transcendental geography.
"Indeed," she added, "the study of this noble science is so fascinating, that it takes away all desire for those amusements and occupations in which the generality of mankind waste so much precious time."
I thought that time could not be so very precious to those who spent it in the acquisition and propagation of such a very useless science as transcendental geography, but I did not say so for fear of offending her. If only, I thought, I could persuade her and others to leave this absurd pseudo-science alone, and study the tenets and elevating teachings of the Church of England, how much more profitably their time would be occupied!
I occasionally went to hear some of the most celebrated professors of transcendental geography lecture in the great halls I have before alluded to. These lectures were delivered in the musical language employed by other lecturers and public speakers, but it struck me that the music was generally of a dull character, and the audience were seldom roused to the pitch of excitement and interest they displayed when they were addressed by other lecturers. In fact, the majority seemed rather bored than interested, and many would fall asleep during the delivery of the lecture. All appeared relieved when it came to an end. They seemed, in fact, to attend the lectures as a sort of duty, and were glad when it was over.
After the first emotions of surprise and curiosity had subsided, I found these everlasting dissertations on a country and people of which, if they had any real existence, the speakers could know nothing at all, insufferably dull, and I wondered what could induce this ​intelligent people to crowd these halls each time a professor of transcendental geography held forth.
On inquiry, I ascertained that few of the audience were attracted by the interest of the subject, but almost all attended the lectures because it was considered the correct thing to do so, because others did so, because they met their friends and acquaintances there, with whom they could make arrangements for future pleasure parties, or interchange ideas concerning literature, art or politics, or indulge in gossip and sprightly conversation, or even carry on flirtations after the lecture was over.
Many of the professors themselves seemed to dismiss all thought of the matter from their minds as soon as the lecture was over, and would engage in conversation on other subjects, or in the diversions of society just like ordinary mortals; so that, except by the everlasting green collar, they were not to be distinguished from other people.
I never could ascertain what connexion this green shark's-skin adornment had with the subject of their teaching. They certainly had no reason to suppose that the inhabitants of the unknown country wore green collars. In fact, when they attempted to describe the dress worn in that country, no mention was made of a collar of any kind; on the contrary, the throat was said to be destitute of any covering whatsoever, and was always so depicted in the pictorial representations of the unknown people, and green was precisely the colour which was universally held to be peculiarly distasteful to the ruler of the unknown country; moreover sharks, which were the greatest terror of the Colymbians, were, in all the teachings of the professors, said to have no existence in the ​unknown country. So that the wearing of green shark's-skin collars by the professors of transcendental geography was one of those anomalies of which I found so many examples among the Colymbians.
The evidence in support of the reality of the unknown country and of everything relating to it being so slight, the accounts of it in the old books being so vague and contradictory, and the principles of transcendental geography being so deficient in precision and definiteness, the professors differ very much among themselves as to almost all matters connected with the subject. In fact, they often hold and teach precisely opposite views.
There is no board or council connected with the Colleges of Transcendental Geography to whom disputed points can be referred. The highest legal authority—which, by the way, knows nothing of transcendental geography—is alone entitled to decide what is correct teaching—what incorrect. Accordingly, when one professor disapproves of the teaching of another professor, he is at liberty to cite his colleague before the legal tribunal in order to obtain a decision as to the correctness of the matter taught.
A case of this sort occurred during my residence in Colymbia. A professor of transcendental geography had publicly taught that the inhabitants of the unknown country were not of terrestrial habits, as had been usually believed, but inhabited the water like the Colymbians. The chief force of his argument lay in this: that as life in the unknown country was universally acknowledged to be an advance on life here, and as the aquatic habits of the Colymbians were without doubt and by general agreement allowed to be a far higher state of being than life on land, it ​followed that the unknown people, if superior to us, could not be subjected to the inferior terrestrial life, above which the Colymbians had risen. Therefore, the unknown people must be denizens of the water like themselves, and all the references in the books to terrestrial life must be understood in a non-natural sense and as mere metaphors and figures of speech.
That the books said nothing about the aquatic habits of the unknown people was evidently owing to this, that they were written at a time when, and given to a people of terrestrial habits to whom an aquatic life was unknown and to whom a description of aquatic habits would have been incomprehensible. That the language of the books was therefore adapted to the limited intelligence and ignorance of these first recipients; but that it was for the Colymbians to reconcile the descriptions of the books with the habits and customs of the superior beings who lived in water, and to cease to represent the unknowns—who were confessedly their superiors—as bound to the inferior mode of life on land the Colymbians had long ago abandoned.
This doctrine, enforced with a degree of eloquence unusual among professors of transcendental geography, proved very attractive to the Colymbians, and the professor had a great many followers among the people, and even brought several other professors over to his mode of thinking.
The teachers of the old doctrine got alarmed at this; and, with the view of stopping the teaching of the audacious innovator, they cited him before the highest legal tribunal of the country.
The learned pundits of the law laid their heads together, pottered over the books for what seemed an unconscionably long time, comparing the new doctrine ​taught with the ancient documents before them, and at length delivered judgment in the following terms:—
"The matters to which the implicated doctrines relate are confessedly not comprehensible, or very imperfectly comprehensible, by the human understanding; the province of reasoning as applied to them is therefore very limited, and the terms employed have not, and cannot have, that precision of meaning which the character of the argument demands;—therefore, the defendant is at liberty to maintain that the habits of the unknown people are aquatic, for though the books nowhere say they are, it is equally certain that they nowhere say they are not."
This judgment created quite a consternation among the conservative party, and did not please the innovators, who half expected that their novel views would have been authoritatively declared to be the only sound ones, the only ones in consonance at once with the ancient books and with the spirit of the age. The general dissatisfaction that prevailed after the declaration of this judgment convinced me that the professors did not value the perfect liberty accorded to them of teaching their own views unless it were accompanied by the right to impose them on their neighbours.
One remarkable feature about transcendental geography is the opinion obstinately held by the professors and their most zealous partisans, that all the education of the country ought to be confided to the professors of transcendental geography only. Now, though the principles of this science are, if not exactly antagonistic, certainly extremely unlike any that regulate the exact and natural sciences, still these curious people hold ​that mathematics, natural history, and even the elementary branches of knowledge, as reading, writing, arithmetic, and the hieroglyphical language, can only he correctly and safely taught by those who are thoroughly conversant with transcendental geography.
At one time, it appears, all the teaching of the country was in their hands, and every branch of knowledge was imparted to the youth accompanied by a strong dose of the transcendental science. But it gradually became apparent that these branches of useful knowledge were very imperfectly taught by them, and that everything that seemed in any way opposed to, or could lead to a doubt of the truth of, transcendental geography, was not taught at all. So that what was actually taught was not up to the mark of the real progress of those who cultivated the exact and natural sciences unhampered by transcendentalism.
Such being the case, the education of the young was taken out of the hands of the transcendental geographers, and entrusted more and more to instructors who had not graduated at the transcendental colleges. But this change was not accomplished without a severe struggle, and the transcendentalists and their partisans never ceased to lament the change, and every now and then made efforts to regain the sole control of education.
They predicted the direst calamities to the state from the practical separation of education from transcendentalism, contending that it would lead to the ruin of the moral and material welfare of the people. That the general intelligence and even the morality, had palpably gained by the separation, did not reconcile them to it. On the contrary, they denounced the ​progress that had been made, and affirmed, with truth, that the estimation of transcendental geography had declined in at least equal proportion. This was freely acknowledged by their opponents, who had the cruelty to insinuate that this was all the better for the people.
Hence it came to pass that the community was divided into two great parties, called the positivists and the transcendentalists; the former contending that positive science was alone advantageous; while the latter affected to sneer at positive science, alleging that transcendental geography was the only knowledge really useful to mankind.
So bitter did the controversy become, that the transcendentalists took every opportunity of denouncing positive science, and the positivists were not slow in assuming an attitude of unmitigated hostility to transcendental geography, which they affirmed to be a false science, quite unfitted for the wants of the actual condition of society.