As it was a holiday, the children accompanied us on our walk, and we had further opportunity of observing the easy, natural relations which existed between them and their parents. There was neither undue familiarity nor too much restraint. There was respect as well as affection on both sides, and a scrupulous concern for each other’s feelings. Evidently the children had all the rights they could appropriate to their advantage, while there was no abrogation of the privileges or the duties of the parents.
At a convenient time during the afternoon I spoke to Zenith about this happy condition of family affairs, and I was greatly enlightened and not a little amused by her reply.
“It was not always so,” she said. “One of the sad chapters of our history tells us of an unfortunate episode in the family life. In the early days the father had complete control over his household, even the lives of its members being at his disposal. But as civilization advanced the law stepped in and protected the dependent ones from too harsh punishment and from neglect. In time sympathy for the weak and unprotected made all corporal punishment unpopular, both at home and at school, and soon discipline of every kind was much weakened. There appeared to be a growing impression on the part of the elders that there could not be any evil in the child’s nature, and so if he were allowed to grow up without any particular training he would not go far out of the way. It seemed to be overlooked that this was something new in the history of the race, that the experiment had never been tried of giving the youth their own way, from the cradle up. It had been taught from very early times that the child, for its own future welfare, should receive correction, and the teaching had never before been departed from. The parents might just as well have put the reins of family government in the hands of the children at once, for this is what it came to in the end. The children, released from all restraint, lost first their respect for their elders, and then all regard for their feelings. Instead of love there grew up a careless indifference, and in place of that tender thoughtfulness so necessary to happiness in this relation, parents began to receive harsh and even cruel treatment. As we look back upon it now, it seems strange that the result was not anticipated, and the trend of events changed by a decided stand against such an unnatural course. But the approach to a crisis was insidious and, as I have said, history furnished no parallel from which to draw a warning.
“Two things made it the worst time in the world for parents to become lax in their discipline. One was the growing sentiment in favor of independence which was permeating all classes of society, and the other the great revival of learning among the people. Given a large class of persons highly educated and taught to prize personal liberty above everything else, and still without the discretion that comes only with years, and what could be expected of them when left with no strong hand to guide them? The methods of education improved so rapidly, and there were such constantly increasing opportunities for obtaining knowledge, that there was some excuse for the children in getting the idea that they knew more than their fathers and mothers. This belief would not under any circumstances improve their manners, and at this time it only caused them to despise still more those who seemed willing to withdraw all claim to authority over them. Precocity, which had never been a popular trait, came to the front with no modesty to relieve its disagreeable character.
“But the conduct of the youth of both sexes was not confined to the exhibition of bad manners, nor to the mere passive indulgence of an undutiful spirit. These led gradually to a more serious phase of the rebellion, the inauguration of a series of petty annoyances, to be followed, naturally, by acts of downright injustice and cruelty. It seemed as if the old years of oppression to which, in a ruder age, the children had been subjected, were about to be repeated, with the parents for the victims. You must not suppose that these vast changes came about in the course of one generation. Just as a sentiment in favor of liberty will be perpetuated in a people from one generation to another, and increase with the lapse of years, so this feeling of independence of parental control and this decadence of natural affection were transmitted from one set of children to the next, and matters grew from bad to worse.
“At length the behavior of the young people became so notoriously bad that the matter had to be taken out of the heretofore sacred precincts of home and treated in a public manner. The press tried to work a reformation by ridicule and threats, and when this was seen to have no effect the legislatures took up the subject, and actually passed laws ‘for the relief and protection of oppressed parents,’ and ‘for the reestablishment of rightful authority in the home.’ These bold measures so angered the children that they declared they would not submit to such insults, but would take the matter of making laws, as well as all other branches of public business, into their own hands. They started their own organs, which made such silly declarations as this: ‘We are young, but in all other respects we are superior to our elders. We have more intelligence, more spirit and courage, we outnumber them two to one, and, what is better than all the rest, we hold them already in our power. So why should we not use that power, and go forward and destroy every vestige of their authority? Let them work and earn our support, and we will do the rest.’”
“And now,” asked Zenith, “how do you think the affair came out?”
“I confess,” I answered, “that I shall have to give it up.”
“Well,” she continued, “the problem was solved, as so many others in our career have been, when the needed lesson had been learned, without our being subjected to the extremely dire results which seemed so imminent; and I am happy to be able to tell you that relief came through the efforts of one of my own sex. Just before the last ounce was added to the weight of foolishness and error which was to turn the world completely over, a girl made her appearance with sense enough to call a halt. She happened to be editing one of the fiery journals of her class, when it struck her one day that they were carrying the thing too far. She had the courage to say so, and got roundly abused for it. She persisted, obtained adherents and helpers, and soon a decided reaction set in. Like a house of cards, which a breath will destroy, the unstable structure the children had built fell to the ground, never to be restored.
“The lesson was not forgotten, and the experience, which appears laughable now, has been of great benefit to us at different times since. But the broadening of our minds and the general improvement in our character have long ago placed us beyond the danger of a recurrence of such events. Compared to our present state those were the days of our infancy.”
As Zenith closed I told her I had enjoyed her story, and that I hoped the earth would not require such a lesson.
“I trust not,” said Zenith.
The next day the doctor and I took the first opportunity to tell Thorwald that we were anxious to have him proceed with his narrative.
“Yes,” he said, “I shall be glad to do so, for I had not reached the important part when our sitting broke up yesterday.
“I was describing to you a remarkable era in our career, and one of you mentioned the fact that the present condition of your race corresponded in some particulars with that age on Mars. If you shall discover further points of likeness as I continue, it will add a peculiar interest to my story.
“There is a difference of opinion among our historians in regard to those times. Some believe that the whole world was corrupt, that it was an age of material development only, and that, if there were any good impulses at all, they were so smothered with selfishness as to be of no account. But these writers lived long ago, and were themselves more or less under the shadow of that epoch. I strongly hold to the views of the great majority of our scholars, who tell us that, while there was too much evil of all kinds, there was also much good, and many believers in a final happy issue out of all the troubles of the time.
“In doing business, by which was meant buying and selling and manufacturing, also financial dealings and commerce, the passion for money-getting was particularly prominent. An astonishingly small percentage of those that went into business, as they said, made a success, if we except the large manufacturers, but in spite of that it was a popular way of earning a livelihood. One thing that made it popular was the fact that there was always more or less speculation in it. The haste to get rich made men too careless of the rights of others.”
“Do you mean that all business was conducted dishonestly?” I asked.
“No,” answered Thorwald, “not as men looked at it then. There was a great deal of downright knavery in business, but there was another class who satisfied their consciences by being as honest as they could. The thoughtful ones knew the system was wrong but felt themselves utterly unable to replace it by a better one, and feeling no responsibility for it, they were satisfied to smother their sensibilities and drift along. They had their living to make, and, though they were not making it in an ideal way, they did not know that any other kind of work would be more satisfactory to their uneasy consciences.”
“Excuse me, Thorwald,” I said; “I am dull. What was there wrong in their manner of doing business?”
“Can you see nothing wrong,” he answered, “in a system where one man’s fortune was built on the ruins of another’s, or perhaps a score of others, or where a business was started and increased solely by drawing from another one already established?”
“Why,” said I, “that is competition, which they no doubt thought better than monopoly. I can imagine that they argued that a man’s first duty was to himself and his family, that one had a right to go into any legitimate business, and that others must take care of themselves. The evil, if there was any, they probably felt was incident to the nature of business and could not be helped. I would like to ask how society could exist with any other business rules.”
As I closed it struck me that I had spoken pretty fast and without much discretion, and the impression was not removed as Thorwald answered with dignity:
“I am telling you the state of things on this planet thousands of years ago, and it is a sufficient answer to your question to say that society at the present day is not governed on any such principles; still, we seem to exist. It was a favorite saying in those days that ‘a man must live,’ and one that was used as an argument or excuse for questionable practices. The premise was wrong; it was not necessary to live: death would have been far better for the world and for the individual than a dishonorable life. So with society at large; better a change in the social structure, caused by an awakened conscience, than a state of peace founded on wrong principles. Our history proves that no particular plan of society is necessary to the world and that no order based on selfishness or injustice can long endure. But do not imagine such changes were easy or swift in accomplishment. They came, not by violence nor by the device of crafty men, but only through the universal betterment of the race, whereby a state of things that had been considered good enough, and then endured as the best attainable, became at last positively wrong and was slowly pushed aside by a growing sense of right.
“To return to your first question, as to what there was wrong in their way of doing business, I want to say with emphasis that the essence of the wrong was in an undue regard for self and an almost total disregard for the interests of others. There were exceptions to the rule, notably in the direction of charity and philanthropy and in religious work, but I am speaking of the mass of the business community. It was every man singly against all the rest of the world. No man was his brother’s keeper. If one did not look out for himself, that was the end of it; there was no one else to do it.”
“But the system itself made men selfish,” I ventured to say.
“To be sure it did,” he replied. “But why did they not then abolish the system before it had brought upon them its long train of evils? It had to go at last.”
“But,” I asked again, “was not competition a good thing for the large number of people not directly engaged in business? Did it not keep down the prices on all kinds of commodities?”
“Certainly not in the main. It increased prices, because it increased the cost of everything. But let us suppose a case where it had the effect you suggest. Could a man with a heart wear a coat, for example, with any pleasure, if he knew that rivalry between the manufacturers had forced the people who made the garment to accept starvation wages? And this was done, not from humanitarian motives, to furnish the poor with cheap clothing, but for the purpose of getting more business and so of making more money.”
I could hardly resist the temptation at this point of asking Thorwald if he had not been reading up on the current history of the earth, but I knew well enough that was not possible, for we had brought no books with us. And then I did not care to tell Thorwald just yet how near he was coming to our experience. But I could not endure having the props knocked from under our social structure without another effort to save it. So I said:
“But were not the great majority of business men honest, and were not these instances that you have cited extreme cases?”
“They were the natural results of a bad system. A great many men were as honest as their environment would permit, and they tried to convince themselves that they were not responsible for the environment.”
“Were they?” I asked eagerly.
“When they at last discovered that they were, then began a radical change. I am not exaggerating the evils of the times. I am merely setting them forth to show you how our race has improved with its maturity. If my purpose required it, I could detail many good things in the life of that people. One bright point in their character, to which I just now referred, I will illustrate. My boy, who is also my student in drawing, will never be able to make a straight line until he can see that the line he has already made is not straight. His improvement depends upon more than a steady hand. So with this people. Deep down in their being, planted by a divine hand, were the instinct of truth and the principle of growth, and when, in the natural course of their development, they came to realize how unworthy they were of their better nature, they set about the work of improvement.
“But they came to that knowledge through many sad experiences. I have not begun to tell you the number and extent of the evils they endured.
“The desire for money affected all classes. The general prosperity had bettered the condition of the wage-earners, creating many artificial wants which could not be satisfied without good pay. Hence arose a natural and constant effort to obtain higher wages, while competition among the employers operated just as constantly to keep them down, and the result was a sharp and increasing antagonism between capital and labor. The general public shared in the blame for this state of things by reason of the almost universal demand for cheap goods.
“While the introduction of machinery was a real advance, whose benefits we are reaping to this day, other conditions had not become adjusted to it at the time of which we are speaking, so that there was often a surplus of workmen, especially in the lower grades of labor. This had a tendency to reduce wages, of course; and the want of employment, improvidence in the use of small wages, intemperance and other immoralities, ignorance and misfortune, all combined to keep part of the people in poverty. On the other hand, it was a time of great wealth and luxurious living, and these two classes, so far apart in their manner of life but often so near each other in all their selfish aims, seemed to have a strong mutual attraction, for they were always found together, crowding upon each other in every large city.
“One of the most difficult things for us of the present day to imagine is, how persons of refinement and sensibility, living in comfort and without a care, could take any pleasure in life when they knew that within a stone’s throw of their doors were human beings who, very often through no fault of their own, were so destitute that a crust would relieve their want, or so friendless that a kind word would make them shed tears of joy. Oh! I cannot comprehend it, and yet the record tells us there were cases of just that nature, where such people, without lifting a finger to alleviate the distress, actually laughed and were happy. Happy! What could they know of happiness? The word must have changed its meaning wonderfully, if we think of what it signifies to-day.”
Thorwald continued as follows:
“The unpleasant relations existing between the employers and the employees created a host of troubles. It was an unreasonable feeling, because the interests of the two classes were identical. But as capital was consolidated and great corporations were formed for extensive operations in transportation and manufacturing, the relation between the two became very impersonal and difficult to control. In order to protect their interests the wage-earners organized into unions, brotherhoods, etc., almost every trade and calling having its own organization.
“When these associations were first formed much stress was laid upon their incidental benefits, such as assistance in time of sickness, care of the families of deceased members, the holding of meetings for discussion and mutual improvement, and the establishment of reading-rooms and libraries. These commendable objects would have been a sufficient excuse for the existence of these bodies, and other legitimate ends might have been sought, but the labor unions did not stop there. They instituted and set in motion the powerful machinery of the strike, as it was called, making it effective by binding their members, under severe penalties, to stop work when they were ordered to do so by their leaders. They also practiced the severest measures of intimidation upon non-union men, to prevent them from getting employment.
“Thus the trades-unions, too often governed by incompetent men, became a mighty power for evil. Strikes and lockouts were common, and were followed by loss of wages and consequent suffering, while the bitterness of feeling between the two classes constantly increased. To meet the rising power of the labor organizations, the employers felt obliged to form combinations among themselves and sometimes also to employ bodies of armed men to protect their property. Then, when a strike came, conflicts would follow so serious that appeal had to be made to the last resort, the military arm of the nation. Here another evil threatened, for the individual soldiers would sometimes prove to be in deep sympathy with the workmen who were making the trouble. At such crises, also, there would appear on the scene the anarchist, who wanted to overthrow society at once in the hope of bringing himself out nearer the top, and who was kept comparatively harmless in quiet times.
“You can imagine something of the disorder and apprehension caused by these troubles. No contract for work could be made without the stipulation that its fulfillment must depend upon freedom from strikes in that particular trade, and no man could start on a journey with any certainty that he would be allowed to finish it in peace and at the appointed time.
“To decide how these evils should be remedied proved to be one of the greatest problems ever presented to the people of that age.
“Political sages had long before promulgated the doctrine upon which society was governed, that every man had a natural right to life, liberty, and his own method of pursuing happiness. Now, both sides in the conflict claimed to be following closely the spirit of this fundamental doctrine. The workingmen declared that they had a perfect right to organize and to induce all their number to join the unions. They said the individual relation between them and the employers had had its day and that experience was proving to them that every concession and privilege they hoped to get must come through their associations, working through the medium of an agent or committee. As independent citizens they could not obey laws and regulations in the making of which they had no voice, and their love of personal liberty would not allow them to accept the wages and hours of service which their employers might, without asking their consent, choose to prescribe. In case of disagreement they asserted their right to stop the whole business, at whatever loss to the employers or inconvenience to the public, and to prevent, if possible, new men from taking their places.
“On the other hand, the employers, while not denying to the workmen the right to form associations for legitimate purposes, insisted that this right was being abused. They claimed that they should be allowed to hire whom they pleased and dismiss incompetent men when it was best for their business, without regard to their membership or non-membership in a union.
“As time went on the trouble increased and society was fast forming itself into classes with opposing aims and mutual dislike. The time had been when a workman, by skill and diligence, could rise above his station and become a large proprietor himself. But with the new order this was hardly possible, and civilization, in this respect, seemed to be retrogressing.
“You may wonder why the lawmakers did not correct the evil at once, but the fact was that the legislatures were made up of representatives from the two classes, and so were undecided as to what remedies to apply. It was proposed by some to enact a law preventing a man from selling himself into slavery, or, in other words, from giving up his liberty of action into the keeping of others, a thing which had caused much suffering. In every strike a large part of the men, earning small wages and with families dependent on these wages for their bread from one day to another, would be obliged to quit work against their will. It was thought, therefore, a fit subject of legislation to enjoin them from binding themselves to strike at the dictation of others, when it was against their judgment. It was suggested, also, to make the intimidation or coercion of non-union men a criminal act.
“When these measures were suggested the cry was raised that the workingmen were to be deprived of their liberty and made the slaves of capital. The labor parties in the legislatures were assisted by a class of politicians who were made cowards through fear of losing the workingmen’s votes, and this gave these parties the power to defeat all measures of which they disapproved, and to pass laws in their own interest. They claimed that they should be protected as well as the manufacturer, and so they made it lawful for the government to inspect all industries and to see that the employees received an equitable share of the profits. This was radical action, but they went still further, and took away from every employer the right of discharging men for any cause without the consent of the union; and full power to fix the hours of service and the wages was put into the hands of the government inspectors and the representatives of the trades-unions. The wages were to be based on what the inspectors found to be the profits of the business, and the help or advice of the proprietors was not to be taken. As these astonishing rules governed even the farmer and shopkeeper as well as the manufacturer, you can imagine that there was not much satisfaction in trying to carry on any business.
“The laboring classes were beginning to discover that they were a large majority of the community and that there was a mighty power in the ballot. Their opponents, on the other hand, having lost the control in politics through universal suffrage, now bent their energies still more to the work of combining large interests under one management, hoping to wield in this way a power too formidable to be withstood. Immense trusts were formed in almost every branch of business, and the syndicate gradually took the place of the firm and individual corporation.
“A long time previous to the period of which we are speaking, the people had put part of their business into the hands of the government, with the idea that it would be done with more promptness and also with more economy. A good example of this was seen in the excellent mail service, which the national government conducted much more satisfactorily than it could have been done by private enterprise.
“The local governments, also, had full control of the highways and bridges and the common schools, hospitals, etc., while in large communities, at great expense, they stored and distributed water for domestic and other purposes. As the people had received undoubted benefits from this state of things, there were few to object to it, and even their objection was more for theoretical than practical reasons. It is not strange, therefore, that as the troublous times approached these functions of the state should be multiplied. Besides the gain in convenience and in cost that thus came to the people, they began to rely on the strong arm of the government for protection from the uncertainties and interruptions incident to private control of many kinds of business.
“As the telegraph and telephone came into more general use the government found it necessary to add their facilities to the mail service, in order to give the people the best means of communication. From this point the step was soon taken of assuming control of all the telegraph and telephone lines, in the interest of lower prices and better service. This was attended with such good results that it was thought wise to extend the conveniences of the mail in another direction; and instead of carrying a few small parcels the government took into its hands the entire express business, and it was not long before everybody conceded it to be a good move.
“At the same time, the municipal governments began to exhibit the same paternal character. They first took control of the lighting and heating facilities, and this led in a short time to their furnishing the people with fuel, which was generally brought from a distance, and which, in private hands, always had a way of going up in price at just the time when the poor people were obliged to buy it. For the sake of economy, also, the cities took possession of all street cars, cabs, and omnibuses.
“Affairs had reached this condition when the labor troubles became so serious, and this absorption of private business by the government was so recent and was in general so satisfactory, that men could but think of it in connection with their efforts to solve the industrial problems. The time had now come when some radical measures must be adopted to preserve and extend civilization. The labor party were abusing their power still more in making bad laws, and strikes became more frequent, and were followed by rioting and bloodshed. At length the interruptions to business occasioned by the irregularities in traveling became unbearable. The public demanded better service, but the railroad companies were powerless to render it, being in the hands of the employees, who at the slightest grievance would stop every wheel till the dispute was settled. The trouble generally started with one road and spread to the others by sympathy, and the result was just as disastrous to business whether the men gained their end or not.
“There had always been a party, although at times pretty feeble, in favor of government control of the entire transportation business. This party now argued that that was the only thing that would cure these evils, and they gained thereby many new adherents. When it was considered that government ownership of the telegraph was working well in spite of many adverse prophecies, the people began to entertain the idea that it would perhaps be best to try the experiment with the railroads, especially as it gave some promise of relief from the strikes. To be sure, it would add to the government service immense numbers of men, and increase a danger that had always been threatening, that of making too large a list of civil officers to be managed without great corruption.
“But now it was not long before a large majority of the people asked to have the trial made, and soon all railroads, canals, and steamboats were in the hands of the general government. The employees were formed into an army, with officers of all grades, and put under strict military discipline. At the least show of insubordination a man was discharged, never to be reemployed, and although this caused some hardship in individual cases at first, it put an effectual stop to the strikes and kept business moving. The best of the workmen had been among the strongest advocates of national ownership, and as the movement gained in favor no class were so satisfied with the change as the employees themselves. Work was steady, wages were regular, faithfulness and length of service were rewarded, and the aged and feeble were retired on pensions.
“In this way peace had come in one department of labor, but war still raged among the manufacturers and in the building and other trades. The workingmen literally held the reins in society, but did not know enough to drive away from the rocks. Instead of taking advantage of shorter hours and higher wages to improve their minds and prepare themselves for a better condition, they were too apt to waste their energies in denouncing the capitalists and in trying to force still greater concessions from their unwilling employers. They would loudly demand that every ancient wrong endured by them should be redressed, and then, to show their idea of right, they would compel a builder, in the middle of a contract, where time was more precious than money, to give them higher wages than had been agreed on; or they would boycott to bankruptcy a small shopkeeper who innocently bought goods that happened to be made by non-union workmen.
“But do not imagine that the wrong was all on one side. There were employers who were unjust and cruel when they had the power, unreasonable in argument, and boorish and exasperating in their manners. Many seemed to think they were a different class of beings because they had more money than their workmen, and they resented the idea of the latter rising above the station in which they were born. They raised wages only when forced to do so, and considered any amount of profit made out of their men perfectly legitimate. When want came they would give in charity to the unfortunate ones that which really belonged to them by right. These disagreeable qualities were not possessed alone by such as were employers. There was a class of rich people not engaged in business, and although they had the greatest interest in the perpetuity of society as it was, many of them considered themselves as members of a superior caste, and looked down with disdain upon the majority of mankind, and the real masters of the situation, who had to work for their daily bread.
“It was against this class especially that anarchy was forging its thunderbolt. The freedom of the press and freedom of speech gave the socialist and anarchist the opportunity to promulgate their seditious doctrines, and they looked to the ignorant and depraved portions of the community for adherents. By the successful risings of the people against despotic power the word ‘revolution’ had gained a certain nobility of sound and meaning, and now these incendiaries employed it to mislead the credulous. They promised an overturning by which all property and money should become a common fund and be redistributed on a more equitable basis, and it is perhaps not to be wondered at that some poor, ignorant ones, seeing the vast inequalities in life, should be carried away with their arguments. The vision of a society where all should share alike and live on the same scale of comfort was intoxicating. But the scheme of the anarchist was not based on love and a desire to promote true brotherhood. Judging from the violent means proposed to bring about the change, it seemed rather to be based on hate. In preaching their doctrine of personal license they were stealing the livery of freedom in which to serve their selfish lusts.
“While the vicious and ignorant thus threatened society on the one hand, the accumulation of enormous wealth by a few fortunate, or unfortunate, men was thought by some to be a menace equally serious. It was argued that this could not go on without making the poor poorer and more numerous, and thus emphasizing and perpetuating the separation of the two classes.
“I need not point out to you a fact that you must realize, namely, that the spring of action with too many men, the one cause of the troubles that really threatened the foundations of society, was selfishness. Can you imagine any danger from all these movements if men could have suddenly become unselfish, really unselfish?
“I hope I have not given you the idea that all the world of people had lost their heads. As in the history of nations of that period war seems to have been the principal occupation, so in the social life of the people the evils and dangers are most prominently seen. But all this time there was a large party of men and women who were alive to the perils of the hour, and intent on seeking the best means to overcome them. This party was made up of many representatives of every class, rich and poor, workingmen and employers, and included the great mass of the intelligent and thoughtful members of society.
“The general and local governments were carrying on, with marked success and without friction, certain kinds of business, while in many other departments there were disorder and possible ruin. Time brought no healing power; the troubles increased and were now truly gigantic. Where should help be found?”
As Thorwald paused here, the doctor, who, I thought, had been wanting to speak for some time, took occasion to say:
“Don’t tell us, Thorwald, that this people turned over all their business, both industrial and professional, to the government, and made machines of themselves. I am becoming exceedingly interested in them and hope they found some better release from their woes. I am sure there are a number of methods of relief which they might have tried.”
“I am glad you have spoken, Doctor,” answered Thorwald, “or I might have talked you to death. We must really break off now and get out of doors.”
Mona listened to different portions of the foregoing conversation. It was dull amusement for her, as we could see by her actions, and we wondered at first why she showed so little interest in it. She did not seem to realize the full significance of her unique position in our circle. As the last representative of the race of moon men, she had now the opportunity of learning something of the history of two sister worlds, and one would suppose that she would have been eager to hear every word we said. She had expressed herself more than once as anxious to know all any of us could tell her, nor did she hesitate to ask questions continually—and intelligent questions, too. But she was sympathetic only in certain directions, having a laudable curiosity to hear about any of the pleasant phases of society, either on the earth or on Mars. But when Thorwald talked of the former troubles experienced by his race, or when we compared these with the miseries of our own times on the earth, Mona became an indifferent listener.
She was sitting with us when Thorwald proposed the out-door exercise, and so we all went out together. As we walked, Thorwald said:
“Mona, I fear you have not been enjoying my tedious talk this morning. You would be better pleased, I am sure, with some other topic.”
In her sweet accents, so charming to every ear, Mona responded:
“I hope my lack of attention did not give you offense, Thorwald, but I do not understand the things you have talked about to-day.”
“Not understand? Why, I know from former conversations with you that such things are not beyond your comprehension.”
“Thank you,” said Mona, “but I think they are, for I never before heard anything like the ideas you have advanced.”
“We shall all be glad to learn, then, how these questions were answered and these wrongs righted by your ancestors.”
“They never had any such perplexities,” responded Mona.
“Which means, I presume,” said Thorwald, “that the race became so far advanced before your time that the records and traditions of their early struggles were all forgotten.”
“Oh, no,” she sang out, “that’s not it. What had they to struggle over?”
“Was it then so easy for them to be just?” asked Thorwald.
“Certainly, and I have been exceedingly surprised to learn by your long talk that there is such a thing as injustice.”
We were all becoming thoroughly interested, but left it for Thorwald to continue his questions.
“Mona,” said he, “do you mean that your people, even in the remote past, were entirely ignorant of such troubles as we have been speaking about?”
“Yes, and of all other troubles. I am sure there was always only peace and happiness on the moon. Strife and hatred, sorrow, want, and misery are all strange words to me, and entirely unknown except as I have heard them in your conversation.”
“Was there never any sickness there?” I asked.
“I don’t know the meaning of the word,” she replied. “Is it another item in the general unpleasantness of the times you have been describing? I wonder that your race, Thorwald, ever survived those rude days.”
“But,” asked Thorwald, “what think you of the earth? The doctor and his companion say their planet is now passing through just such a period.”
“Well, all I can say is that I am thankful I was not discovered till after the moon had deserted the earth.”
“Tell us more about your race,” said the doctor. “Were they all as good as you are?”
“Just the same. There were no degrees in goodness.”
“And did they all sing as they talked, and in such sweet tones as yours?” I asked.
“Oh, many sang better than I do, and all made music of their words. I never heard speech that was not melodious till you and the doctor came to see me.”
“And did everything else in your life there correspond to your charming manner of talking?” asked Thorwald.
“Why, yes, I think so,” answered Mona. “It was a delightful world. Everything was bright and joyous, with no shadow of discontent nor anything to cause sadness or discomfort. Do you wonder that I could not sympathize with your story of wrongs and sorrows, the very nature of which was a new revelation to me?”
Mona’s notions about the people whom she represented seemed strange and improbable to us, and we attributed them to the influence of her own guileless nature. One so innocent and whole-hearted as she was would naturally clothe her ancestors with at least the virtues and graces she herself possessed. However, we had no means of proving Mona’s ideas to be false. We had brought away from the moon no records of any kind by which to study its history, and of that history Mona was as yet our only interpreter. But every word she spoke on this subject only added intensity to the pleasurable anticipation with which these Martians looked forward to their study of the moon and its former inhabitants.