"I am a soldier in the unit he commands," he explained. "An officer?" "No, a common soldier." "But he asked you to dine with him. In my world officers do not mingle socially with common soldiers." Herlak laughed. "Similar social conditions prevailed in Havatoo ages ago," he said, "but not now. There are no social distinctions. We are all far too intelligent, too cultured, and too sure of ourselves to need artificial conventions to determine our importance. Whether a man cleans a street or is a member of the Sanjong is not so important as is how he performs the duties of his position, his civic morality, and his culture. "In a city where all are intelligent and cultured all men must be more or less companionable, and an officer suffers no loss of authority by mingling with his men socially." "But don't the soldiers take advantage of this familiarity to impose upon their officers?" I asked. Herlak looked his surprise. "Why should they?" he demanded. "They know their duties as well as the officer knows his; and it is the aim in life of every good citizen to do his duty, not to evade it." I shook my head as I thought of the mess that Earthmen have made of government and civilization by neglecting to apply to the human race the simple rules which they observe to improve the breeds of dogs and cows and swine. "Do the various classes mingle to the extent of inter-marrying?" I asked. "Of course," replied Herlak. "It is thus that we maintain the high moral and mental standards of the people. Were it otherwise, the yorgans must deteriorate while the several other classes diverged so greatly from one another that eventually they would have nothing in common and no basis for mutual understanding and regard." * * * * * We talked of many things during that hour while we awaited dinner, and this common soldier of Havatoo discussed the sciences and the arts with far greater understanding and appreciation than I myself possessed. I asked him if he was particularly well educated, and he said that he was not--that all the men and women of Havatoo were schooled alike to a certain point, when a series of elaborate examinations determined the calling for which they were best fitted and in which they would find the greatest happiness. "But where do you find your street cleaners?" I asked. "You speak as though some reproach might attach to that calling," he remonstrated. "But it is work that many might find distasteful," I argued. "Necessary and useful work is never distasteful to the man best fitted to do it. Of course, highly intelligent people prefer creative work, and so these necessary but more or less mechanical duties, which, by the way, are usually done by means of mechanical contrivances in Havatoo, never become the permanent calling of any man. Any one can do them; so every one takes his turn--that is, every one in the yorgan class. It is his contribution to the public welfare--a tax paid in useful labor."