In this land no such thing as friendship or familiar intercourse between man and man is possible. The very name of it is ridiculous to them. For the only way in which one man can turn his sensitive edge to another man is if one of them will consent to stand on his head. Fathers hold their male children in this way when little, but the first symptom of manhood is connected with a resentment against this treatment.
If now two women, Mulier and Femina, be looked at, the same relation will be seen to hold good between them. By their nature they are predisposed, by accident, to injure one another, and their impressionable sides are, by the very conditions of their being, turned away from each other.
If now, however, Homo and Mulier be placed together, a very different relationship manifests itself. They cannot injure one another, and each is framed for the most delightful converse with the other. Nothing can be more secure from the outside world than a pair of approximately the same height; each protects the sensitive edge of each, and their armoured edges and means of offence are turned against all comers, either in one direction or the other. But, if the pair, through a mutual misunderstanding, happen to be disadjusted, and, their feet on the rim, turn their sharpnesses against one another, they are absolutely exposed to the harms and arrows of the world.
Still, even in this case they cannot wound one another—a happy immunity.
In the annals of this race which I have by me I find a curious history, which, unintelligible for ages to them, admits by us of a simple explanation.
It is said that two beings, the most ideally perfect Vir and Mulier, were once living in a state of most perfect happiness, when, owing to certain abstruse studies of the Mulier, she was suddenly, in all outward respects, turned irremediably into a man. Vir recognized her as the same true Mulier. But she occupied the same position with regard to him which any other man would. It was only by standing on his head that he could, with his sensitive edge, approach her sensitive edge. She refused to explain how it was, or impart her secret to any one, but she had, she said, undergone a great peril. She manifested a strange knowledge of the internal anatomy of the race, and most of their medical knowledge dates from her. But no persuasion would induce her to reveal her secret; all the privacy of existence would be gone, she said, if she revealed it. She was supposed to have acquired some magical knowledge.
This possession, however, did not make either of them happy, and one day, with fear, she said that she would either die or be restored to the outward semblance of her sex.
She disappeared—absolutely; although she was surrounded by her friends, she absolutely vanished. And had it not been that some days afterwards, cutting through the solid rock for the purposes of some excavations, they accidentally came on a chasm, they would never have found her alive again. For she was found in a cavity in the living rock, warm and beautiful—her old self again.
Her secret died with her.
From our point of view it is easy to see what had happened. If the figure Mulier be taken up and turned over it will be easy to see that, though still a woman, her configuration has become that of a man. To all intents and purposes she is a man. She is rendered incapable of that attitude which is the natural one between the men and women in this land, and the happy relationship between her and Vir is necessarily and entirely broken off. Move about as you will, keeping her figure turned thus on the plane, you will not be able to make her a fitting helpmate for her unfortunate Vir. She must have discovered the secret of raising herself off the surface, and by some accident been turned over. Perhaps she had used this new position to study anatomy—for to an observer thus situated the interior of every body would lie perfectly open—and in prosecuting her studies had overbalanced herself.