9th June, ne Spectator tells us that Captain F. Younghusband at the close of his interesting book of travel called The Heart of a Continent, relates a strange experience he once had in the valley State of Huuza, a remote spot in the higher Himalayas, not far from Chitral. Phere he discovered a secluded people who were quite unconscious of the existence of a greater world than thei a people who doubted the possibility of there being anywhere on the globe a.corner that differed in the slightest degree from their own broad ravine or other similar dips in the mountain system, "hey had never journeyed away from the familiar centre iv which they lived; no travellers had appeared to disturb their peaceful solitude; no one had ever unfolded to them the great mystery of the vast illimitable sea, and they had therefore gradually come to think of themselves as the only race of sentient beings in the universe. They imagined that the very stars shone for them alone; and could not realise that nature's daily miracles were performed for the wonder and confusion of other minds than theirs.
It would be interesting to know more of this people; to find out what pitch of excellence or depth of degradation could be reached in such an environment, and to judge how near Heaven it were possible to attain for those who, having eyes, yet see not. We have all read of the old farmer who tramped into a country town from some remote little village, and was so astonished to see his face for the first time in a shop mirror; but in spite of his ignorance of his actual appearance, he was doubtless well aware that his own personality was not the highest that could be reached. Probably, indeed, like the average English peasant, he was teeming with exaggerated notions about his superiors, and may even have belonged to that simple school, now, we had almost. said alas, fast dying out, that cherishes the belief that-the Queen invariably sleeps in her crown. But this attitude of mind is very different from that assumed by Capt. Younghusband's Hima-Javan friends; they, on the other hand, could imagine no other beings more finished than themselves, and were absolutely satisfied with their own standard because they were ignorant of any other. We wonder if, in the midst of such contented egoism, they had evolved a deity for themselves; they knew absolutely nothing of the India lying almost at their feet, and so itis scarcely likely that they had come under the magic of its marvellous religious system. Instead, they probably exalted the phy-sicelly or morally strongest amongst their number into a position of authority, and were content to bask in his real or imagined virtues as the nearest approach to an ideal to which weak man could attain.
It is almost a platitude to say that such a state of mind and life as this does not lead to great actions. The limitations of a cramped environment are, so to speak, practically unlimited. A man may do good work when he is almost dying of starvation; a poet may sing his sweetest song above the jeers and hisses of a scoffing multitude, nay, he may even gain inspiration therefrom, but to none but a genius is it given to rise above the stifling atmosphere of contented ignorance and 3 apathy.
It is that very same contenttment that is so terribly poisonous and asphyxiating; the thuaght that earth being so fair, Heaven cannot seem wetter is a thought that drags men down and makes them useless clods instead of earnest workers. It cannot be denied that probably the Hunza valley people are happy and peaceful enough; but surely theirs is a happiness that is very dearly bought. To have missed most of the best viands in nature's generous banquet; never to have felt that quickening of the soul that makes some of us throb with pleasure at the reading of a noble poem or the recital of some great deed of fame; such deprivations as these cannot be compensated for by even a life of absolute immunity from trouble.
Captain Younghusband suggests, moreover, that we all more or less may be living in a valley of Hunza, unconscious of anything greater than our own little planet, and oblivious of the fact that there are probably beings belonging to one or other of the myriad worlds, whose existence is universally acknowledged, with far higher attributes than our own, and capable of attaining a much loftier eminence than ours in the scale of creation. It is quite possible to picture a life that may endure for centuries as human life endures for years; but it is difficult for us with our rudimentary notions of earthly limitations of space and time to form any idea of the amount of knowledge and wisdom that might be anassed in such an illimitable existence. As the Spectator says, it is impossible to couceive, if we think upon the subject at all, that the creative power of the Almighty or his use for created beings has been exhausted in a feeble race like our own, which, if it were not for the comforting doctrine of immortality, is only just the first in the animal kingdom of one of the least important planets attending a not very conspicuous star. And yet, strange to say, the popular notion of an angel or even of the Deity himself, is merely that of a glorified human being; we cannot withdraw ourselves from the absurdly limited idea that even admitting the existence of a higher race than our own, such a race must inevitably be formed in our image and likeness. In fact our artistic conception of a divine being is somewhat illogical, if we think of it; for, whilst we all unite in placing the birds on a lower
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.