August and queenly they passed together, and their wonderful eyes were lifted to heaven and full of the dawn; but though their hands were not free, and I perceived that heavy chains hung upon them, yet moved they with the bearing of ministering angels; and their feet were light; and their soft voices were full of joy; while they swept forward as though to happiness rather than sorrow. Infinitely fair were the three maidens—pearls before the dusty rabble and rout of humanity that followed them. Only the very old and the very young wept for them.
The first was clad in white, and her face was pale, yet lighted by an inner radiance of the Seventh Heaven. She moved with silent step and answered not when her sisters sang. In her hands, clasped close upon her breast, was a cross fashioned of one diamond that shone like the morning star. And so she went in silence, with her grey eyes uplifted and Peace upon her forehead.
The second was clad in white, and her face shone like the morning, and the blue harmonies of her unconquerable eyes swept sky and earth. Life and eternity were wrought into the hem of her garment; immortal was she and she moved as an Immortal, singing such music as the lark sings in upper darkness above the first horizontal glimmer of low silver dawns in spring. Her hands were also clasped upon her bosom, and they held fast between them a little anchor of gold.
The third maiden was clad in white, and her head was bent, for her soft hazel eyes swept earth rather than sky, and warm blood throbbed in her cheek while she spoke with a mother’s music of voice to little children that ran beside her and wept and lifted their small hands to hers. A ruby heart was all the adornment that she wore, and it gleamed between her breasts and rose and fell there.
Concerned to know the meaning of this matter, I descended from my standpoint, approached the drifting throng, and asked a loud-voiced son of the people to enlighten my ignorance.
“What,” said I, “is this brave array of the Generations of the Earth? Whence go they, and who are these Daughters of Light that lead them?”
The man stared with great amazement, and in his turn asked a question.
“From what trance have you awakened?” he inquired. “From what lengthy sleep have we aroused you that you have yet to learn the meaning of these armies, and the rite they march to celebrate? Know that you behold the spectacle of Civilisation about to sacrifice to the new-born Century. The Age of Utility now dawns, and mankind have agreed that this world-shaking event shall be celebrated worthily.”
With growing terror I asked the nature of this ceremonial.
“An Age of Utility would surely give to its mechanic gods that of which itself stood least in need,” I said, not without irony.