The following day I made preparations for another visit on shore, when I was made to understand by my instructors that I must not land again until I could speak the language of the country. I was not much pleased with this, not liking a confinement of two or three months, which, even with my faculty of learning languages, was the least term within which I could expect to qualify myself to speak one so new and difficult. My instructors, however, appeared very earnest on this point, and I thought it best to comply, and gave my undivided attention to the necessary study.
At the end of the first week, I was astonished and delighted to find my instructors addressing me in very good English. I could not help arguing, from their wonderful quickness of intellect, and faithfulness of memory, that I should find them intelligent and refined, beyond the conception of external mortals. In this I was not disappointed. My greatest misfortune was a want of capacity to comprehend intelligence so far beyond my powers of mind. They never forgot any thing, and it was only necessary to name a thing once to fix it on their memories. The alphabet once read, and sounds pronounced, they had it perfectly, and expressed the greatest astonishment that I should require them to repeat the same names of things over five or six times, to fix them in my mind.
Having qualified themselves to act as interpreters, they acquainted me that permission had been given for me to visit the place of assembly, where the Best Man and the council of worthies were in session; but that my vessel must remain where she was, and none of the people be permitted to go out of her.
CHAPTER VIII.
The Author leaves the ship to visit the seat of government—Description of the country.—Account of the polity of the Symzonians, as stated by his conductor.—Comparison of the industry, its objects and ends in the two worlds, and of the necessities and habits of the internals and externals.—Expulsion of the unworthy from Symzonia, to a place of exile near the north pole.—External world supposed to have been peopled by the outcasts.
It was the 2d of January, 1818, that I set out on this delightful visit. A native boat came alongside to convey me, into which I stepped with no more sense of fear than might be excited on going among the spirits of the blessed; so perfectly did the appearance, manners, conduct, and expression of countenance of this people accord with my ideas of purity and goodness.
On the way to the place of assembly, which was about one hundred miles by water from the harbour where the ship lay, much occurred to gratify my senses, instruct my mind, and delight my heart. We ascended the river, the banks of which, and all the country near them, appeared like one beautiful and highly cultivated garden, with neat low buildings scattered throughout the scene. No crowded cities, the haunts of vice and misery, hung like wens upon the lovely face of nature. An appearance of equality in the condition and enjoyments of the people pervaded the country. The buildings were all of them large enough for comfort and convenience, but none of them so large, or so charged with ornament, as to appear to have been erected as monuments of the pride and folly of the proprietor.
Great numbers of small cattle and other domestic animals enriched the view, and a profusion of flowers, tastefully arranged in the vicinity of every house, filled the air with perfume, and charmed the eye with their variegated beauties. No fogs or vapours obscured the charming prospect, nor formed in wainrows[1] to ornament the scene, the mild influence of the sun not being sufficient to produce rapid exhalations, nor the nights cold enough to condense them into vapour. Nature’s fairest landscape requires no mantle to obscure its beauties, or to heighten their effect.
The active inhabitants all seemed engaged in something useful. Some were tending their cattle; some cultivating vegetables, fruits, and flowers, while others practised the mechanic arts.