Anthem [another edition] | Page 8

winds which blow over the seas and
push the sails of our great ships. We learned how to bleed men to cure them of all
ailments.
We [-love-] {+loved+} the Science of Things. And in the darkness, in the secret hour,
when we awoke in the night and there were no brothers around us, but only their shapes
in the beds and their snores, we closed our eyes, and we held our lips shut, and we
stopped our breath, that no shudder might let our brothers see or hear or guess, and we
thought that we wished to be sent to the Home of the Scholars when our time would
come.
All {+of+} the great modern inventions come from the Home of the Scholars, such as the
newest one, which was found only a hundred years ago, of how to make candles from
wax and string; also, how to make glass, which is put in our windows to protect us from
the rain. To find these things, the Scholars must study the earth and learn from the rivers,
from the sands, from the winds and the rocks. And if we went to the Home of the
Scholars, we could learn from these also. We could ask questions of these, for they do not
forbid questions.
And questions give us no rest. We know not why our curse makes us seek we know not
what, ever and ever. But we cannot resist it. It whispers to us that there are great things
on this earth of ours, and that we [-can know them if we try, and that we-] must know
them. We ask, why must we know, but it has no answer to give us. We must know that
we may know.
So we wished to be sent to the Home of the Scholars. We wished it so much that our
hands trembled under the blankets in the night, and we bit our arm to stop that other pain
which we could not endure. It was evil and we dared not face our brothers in the morning.
For men may wish nothing for themselves. And we were punished when the Council of
Vocations came to give us our life Mandates which tell those who reach their fifteenth
year what their work is to be for the rest of their days.
The Council of Vocations came {+in+} on the first day of spring, and they sat in the great

hall. And we who were fifteen and all the Teachers came into the great hall. And the
Council of [-vocations-] {+Vocations+} sat on a high dais, and they had but two words to
speak to each of the Students. They called the Students' names, and when the [-Students-]
{+students+} stepped before them, one after another, the Council said: "Carpenter" or
"Doctor" or "Cook" or "Leader." Then each Student raised their right arm and said: "The
will of our brothers be done."
Now if the Council [-has-] said "Carpenter" or "Cook," the Students so assigned go to
[-work,-] {+work+} and [-they-] do not study any further. But if the Council has said
"Leader," then those [-Students-] {+students+} go into the Home of the Leaders, which is
the greatest house in the City, for it has three stories. And there they study for many years,
{+so that they may become candidates+} and be elected to the City Council and the State
Council and the World Council--by a free and general vote of all men. But we wished not
to be a Leader, even though it is a great honor. We wished to be a Scholar.
So we awaited our turn in the great hall and then we heard the Council of Vocations call
our name: "Equality 7-2521." We walked to the dais, and our legs did not tremble, and
we looked up at the {+Council. There were five members of the+} Council, three of the
male gender and two of the female. Their hair was white and their faces were cracked as
the clay of a dry river bed. They were old. They seemed older than the marble of the
Temple of the World Council. They sat before us and they did not move. And we saw no
breath to stir the folds of their white togas. But we knew that they were alive, for a finger
of the hand of the oldest rose, pointed to us, and fell down again. This was the only thing
which moved, for the lips of the oldest did not move as they said: "Street Sweeper."
We felt the cords of our neck grow tight as our head rose higher to look upon the faces of
the Council, and we were happy. We [-knew-] {+know+} we had been guilty, but now
we had a way to atone for it.