“Why, I understand that you Caskians have attained to a most perfect state of development and culture, and—” I hesitated and he smiled.
“And you think the process eliminates individual traits?” he inquired.
Clytia laughingly added:
“I hope, sir, you did not expect to find us all exactly alike, that would be too tame!”
“You compliment me most highly,” said Calypso, seriously, “but we must not permit you to suppose that we regard our ‘development’ as anywhere near perfect, In fact, the farther we advance, the greater, and the grander, appears the excellence to which we have not yet attained. Though it would be false modesty—and a disrespect to our ancestors—not to admit that we are conscious of having made some progress, as a race. We know what our beginnings were, and what we now are.”
After a moment he went on:
“I suppose the principle of differentiation, as we observe it in plant and animal life, is the same in all life, not only physical, but intellectual, moral, spiritual. Cultivation, though it softens salient traits and peculiarities, may develop infinite variety in every kind and species.”
I understood this better later on, after I had met a greater number of people, and after my perceptions had become more delicate and acute,—or when a kind of initiatory experience had taught me how to see and to value excellence.