Persian University Letter No. 3

My dear Usbek:

Some time has elapsed since I wrote you of my disappointing investigation among the Prophezzors at Dravrah. The interval has been spent in observing these young men, the Satellities, who seem to hold the answer to this riddle of education which so puzzles me. I have employed my greatest tact and affability to win the confidence of the leading spirits among them. I have gained insight into features of their life which to a more outsider would remain forever impenetrable. I have watched, and noted, and thought; and my bewilderment increases.

Even before I came hear I heard great talk of the untrammeled freedom of thought and opinion which prevails at Dravrah. I find the report as fully justified as even Sarakhan, the Philosopher, could demand. But with what appalling consequences! Paradox thought it be, a too generous freedom may take away incentive and make slaves of the minds it seeks to liberate. So it seems to be among these young men. They are permitted to think with unbridled license of everything; so they think of nothing. Their much vaunted liberties have acted like the juice of the poppy plant, and put, them to sleep. An opinion prevails among many of the Satellites that the man who thinks is a depraved animal. Thus, shunning depravity, they fall blindly into it. Superficial cleverness passes current for wisdom. A spark is mistaken for true fire. They babble of many things, but ponder few. And so the great problems of mankind pass lightly over their untroubled heads, while they chatter about the trifles of yesterday and today.

My first interest, my dear Usbek, was attracted to a group, or tribe, of Satellities which I was told contained the most advanced thinkers to be found in this Universe-city. These choice souls call themselves the Why-nots and hold their meetings in a barn amidst the red flare of torches. Thither I went with great hopes, and witnessed the most extraordinary manifestations of advanced thought. By special invitation, Jaipurdhi, the Indian fakir most noted for his piety and fifth, had come to address them upon the fundamental necessity of discarding all clothing for complete self-expression. With great enthusiasm the Why-nots embraced the theory on the spot, and left the fakir in a triumphal procession through the streets, furnishing much amusement to the other Satellites.

On another occasion they assembled in plenary session and, with loud huzzas, voted their indignant protest against the Emperor of China for pulling the pigtail of his Grand Vizier. They also dispatched a special messenger to His Imperial Majesty with their resolution upon the inviolability of pigtails.

Every member of the Why-nots wears about his neck a brass collar on which is engraved the motto of the tribe: "Be Thyself!" This excellent precept is understood to mean: "Be different from everyone else!" So great is their zeal that they wear their hair long and unshorn, go without hats in all weathers, assemble to discuss poetry and free love when others are attending an athletic festival, and flood the bookstalls with tracts denouncing everybody and everything.

To these extremes has freedom of thought carried the tribe of Why-nots. Understand me, my dear Usbek! Never for a moment would I infringe the privilege of youth to soar with head among the clouds. But free thinking, properly understood, demands that even youth keep its feet on the earth.

Perhaps you wonder why such solemn puerilities as I have described are not laughed out of countenance. You must remember that freedom of thought is a serious thing. If there be a grain of truth in a ton of dress, you accept the ton for the sake of the grain. For the world is a big place, and there is room for everybody, and each man has the inalienable right to be as eccentric as he pleases. It is my own conviction that the Why-nots are quite harmless. But think of the wasted energy!

I have more to toll you of my experiences among the Satellities my dear Usbek, but I reserve it for another letter. Mirza.

From Kambrij.

The 23d of the Moon of Rhamazan, 1711