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WITH this number we present to our readers the first
instalment of an original story by "Samuel H.
King, Scientist." The story details the imaginary
experiences of an imaginary visitor to the planet
Mars. It deals with religious and social questions
with great intelligence, and, in some respects is
superior to "Looking Backward," or "News from
Nowhere"; especially is it superior to either of these
famous books in its conception of what would make
for human happiness in social relations. We feel
confident that this story will be read with intense interest.
[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER I.
THE PREPARATIONS FOR THE VOYAGE.
My name is Samuel H. King, and I am a scientist.
I was born of good Puritanic stock, and inherited a
fortune of twenty thousand dollars. Being of a different
turn of mind from my brothers, I invested this
money so that it realized me an income of two
thousand dollars a year. As I had no inclination to marry,
nor to travel, nor to go into business, I employed my
time in the study of science. An account of my studies
may be of some interest; besides, it has a direct bearing
on my Great Voyage to Mars.
Man is a kind of machine; and like all machines, he
is worn out by friction. I conceived the idea that, if
the friction of living could be lessened, life would be
lengthened indefinitely. But how could this be done?
Life is the action of the bodily and mental organs. If
these organs be stopped to reduce the friction, life will
cease.
I noticed by observation that death, nine times
out of ten, is the result of internal discord, and very
seldom the result of external injury. I know this is
not the common opinion, for people think death comes
to them from without; when, in fact, they die ordinarily
because, like machines, they wear out. Can this
wear and tear of life be overcome? I asked.
When we consider the wondrous process, for example,
that transforms pork and beans into blood, we see
how destructive it must be to the bodily organs. I
began experimenting with various short-lived animals.
By feeding a dog on blood alone, I kept it in a state of
youth for fourteen years. I know this will be disputed,
but let any person perform the experiment, and he will
verify the fact. I will risk my reputation as a scientist
on this statement. If I had mentioned some recondite
and unintelligible experiment with a high-sounding
name, I would gain the confidence of the public at
once; but because I come with a simple experiment,
I, no doubt, will be disbelieved. However, I challenge
the world to dispute my word. Disdaining all that
cheap eminence which a learned terminology gives to
a scientific treatise, I speak in the language of the
people. I cast no halo of learning about my work.
Not fearing refutation, by clearness I invite examination.
But to continue. The dog at the end of fifteen
years bore none of the common infirmities of age.
Then I changed its food to the ordinary food of such
animals, and in less than a month it died.
In my second experiment, I took a chicken of the
breed known as "leghorn," and hermetically sealing
its bill, I nourished it by the transfusion of blood, (by
a process of my own, which I will not stop to
explain), and kept it alive for ten years in the best of
health. In that time it raised three hundred chickens.
But I was not satisfied with these experiments.
Although I had reduced the friction of life, yet I had not
overcome it. I began a series of investigations in
regard to the exact amount of oxygen various animals
consume per day; and I was unusually successful; for
I found that, while such things seem to vary from day
to day, they actually do not. At the same time I made
investigations as to the exact amount of carbonic acid
gas various plants consume per day, and how much
oxygen they give off, and I found the proportions from
day to day to be always the same.
When I had completed my researches thus far, I
determined to make a most wonderful experiment, in
which I thought I could reduce the friction of life to
the minimum, and the external conflict to nothing.
The animal I performed this wonderful experiment
upon was the common mouse — Mus musculus.
I had constructed a glass reservoir large enough to
contain an amount of air sufficient for a day, and at
the same time so arranged that it would hold enough
plants to renew it with oxygen from day to day, and
also to provide food for its inmate. This reservoir
was a miniature world. When the mouse exhaled a
breath, a quantity of the carbonic acid gas was taken
up at once by the plants, they at the same time
liberating a proportionate quantity of oxygen. The
same occurred in regard to the mouse's food. This
reservoir was air tight, and I kept it so for seven
years. In that time the mouse not only lived and
thrived, but I noticed that as the plants grew the
mouse increased in size, and at the end of the seven
years I had a new species of animal, not altogether
unlike a mouse, yet it was not a mouse.
I deem this one of the most marvelous experiments
ever performed. Its bearing upon the origin of species
has been presented by myself before the American
Association of Scientists of my native city. See report
vii, vol. 1, pp. 302 to 330.
But what do all these experiments amount to if not
applied to man? Nothing whatever; and everything,
if such a wonder can be accomplished.
Parallel with these experiments in biology, I was
making various experiments in physics and astronomy.
In physics I made a discovery which alone should
entitle me to immortality. I discovered ether; that
imponderable substance which heretofore has been
said to exist only hypothetically. I shall not make the
process of this discovery known, for the simple reason
that, being unknown to science, I would be laughed at,
ridiculed, and persecuted; and I have not the time now
at my disposal to engage in such unscientific trivialities.
My discovery may be contested, yet I am willing to abide by its results, which you shall soon see.
In astronomy, my discoveries were no less great. I
discovered that the planet Mars is inhabited by beings
somewhat like ourselves. For fear that the reader
will become incredulous, I will state how this discovery
was made, and he can follow in my footsteps.
Heretofore scientists in their endeavor to perfect
vision, have sought to improve external apparatus and
not human sight. But I conceived the idea that if the
human eye, by some means, could be made many times
stronger than it is, we should reach remarkable results.
Could this be accomplished? By investigation, I found
that all of the senses can be abnormally developed; so
I determined to thus develop the sense of sight.
The reader will notice one thing — none of my
experiments so far have been performed upon myself.
He will continue to notice the same thing. I lay down
this maxim to be followed by my disciples: Never
experiment upon yourself. It is like taking your own
remedy in the practice of medicine. Sooner or later
you are sure to come to grief.
Well, of course, I procured some one else to experiment
upon. This is an easy matter to accomplish in
America, which is my native country. People in
America readily do any thing for money, such as
jumping over the Niagara Falls, or off bridges
mountains high. I told my man the probabilities were that
I should blind him; but the possibilities were that I
should increase his vision from one to one-hundred
fold; and, like most Americans, he took the possibilities
and my money, and told me to proceed "with my
rat killing." This is his exact language, and as its
true import was unknown to me, I concluded it must
have been said from inspiration, and, if so, foreboded
success.
Mr. Smythe Jones, my subject, was a strong, healthy,
athletic specimen of my native country; born, he told
me, with a presentiment that some day he would be
either President or a millionaire, or equally famous in
some other way. Thus encouraged, I went on with
the experiment.
If you understand the anatomy of the eye, you know
the essential parts are: the retinal nerve, the retina,
the vitreous humor, the crystalline lens, the iris, and
the aqueous humor. My problem was to increase the
power of each of these by artificial means. Sight, as
you no doubt know, is nothing but a physical change
in the pigment of the retina caused by the image of an
object reflected through the eye. I increased the
pigment in the retinas of my subject's eyes by feeding
him pigment in chocolate. Another discovery, which,
no doubt, will make you smile; but remember that
God uses the weak things of this world to confound
the wise, and that it is the commonest facts in nature
that are of the most importance to the scientist. The
retinal nerve was strengthened by administering
large doses of extract of sunflower blossoms. In
addition, I gave my patient, (for by this time he was
ill), broken doses of belladonna to enlarge the pupil
of the eye. I noticed that my subject's sight was
increasing rapidly. He could with ease read a paper at
fifty yards' distance. We now proceeded to the largest
observatory in the United States, and began our
observations of Mars. Wonderful? Oh! it was more
than wonderful! I shall never forget the ecstasy I
felt on that occasion, and I shall always regret my not
having taken a stenographer along, to write down my
subject's description of Mars. But you, who read on,
will see all he saw and more too; for, from the moment
my dear disciple (for such I had made him) fell from
the telescope exhausted, I determined to visit Mars, or
know whether it be an impossibility or not.*
*
For a full account of this experiment see a small pamphlet entitled: "Mars
Through a Human Telescope," by S. H. King, Scientist.
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But how was I to make this voyage? Mars is
millions of miles away, and I only a man. A man? Yes,
but no common man, as you, who read this journal
through, will see. There is this peculiarity about me:
I have never been daunted throughout my life. At
this time I saw no way of making this voyage, yet I
fully believed that in less than ten years I would not
only be on Mars, but, if desirous, be a naturalized
inhabitant thereof.
So far as I knew, there was but one substance
connected with the earth that reached to Mars — the
atmosphere. I was a firm believer in the theory of the
attenuation of the atmosphere, and at once concluded that,
if I reached Mars, it must be on that substance. I
went to work. According to my calculation, from
observations made by aeronauts and scientists, the air
before one reached Mars would be many times lighter
than our lightest gas. So that, had I thought of
constructing an air ship, (for I shall call my conveyance
by this name, owing to the popular prejudice against
balloons), with what could I propel it? With ether!
It came to me like an inspiration! At last I had found
a way of using my great discovery. I made more
calculations. Ether is so light that to man it is practically
nothing. On experimenting, I found I could
make an ether balloon that could be suspended in a
vacuum, or as near one as I could make with our best
Graham air pump. But as yet I had thought of no
means of guiding my air ship, and, besides, if a man
had an air ship to take him to Mars, could he stand the
voyage? Would he not freeze, starve, or get lost in
space? These were grave questions. I set about to
answer them.
Taking advantage of the advanced stage of our
electrical science, and physics in general, I constructed
a machine to all intents and purposes perfect. Its
motor power was light. The power used to set the
motor power in operation was electricity. The light
was from the sun, the electricity from the friction of
the apparatus passing through the atmosphere. The
motor power was constructed on the principle that
substances of different colors absorb light at different
rates.
Heretofore, all my experiments had been on a
small scale in a small vacuum; but now I determined
to devise a ship large enough to carry at least two
hundred pounds' weight. By experimenting I found
that this could be done with ease in our atmosphere;
but the ship would have to increase in size as the
atmosphere decreased in density. Could this be
accomplished? I found that the same machine that did my
piloting could be used to extract ether from the
atmosphere, and, that, by having an elastic balloon, or
ship, I could very nicely manufacture ether while I
was suspended in space. I let several balloons loose in
the air with their apparatus arranged so that they would
be carried at least two hundred thousand miles in space
before the atmosphere became so rare that they would
stop. This satisfied me that I was on the road to
success.
But how was I to construct my ship so as to
accommodate a passenger? I bethought myself of my other
inventions. If I could construct a reservoir, or miniature
world, in which I could keep alive a mouse for
any number of years, why could I not make one large
enough to accommodate a man for a few months? Why
not? The suggestion was plausible; but it necessitated
a great deal of calculation, which would be tedious
to give. Suffice it to say, that after months of work, I
had my life preserving apparatus completed on a scale
large enough to accommodate a man. I forgot nothing.
The motor power that guided the ship also
produced heat to warm my abode, which I called the Crystal
Palace.
The reason I do not give a more minute description
of my ether ship is that there is pending in several
countries of the earth international patent laws; and
in common with all scientists I wish to reap the fruits
of my genius. While it is true that great minds run
in the same channel, yet I do not fear anticipation
from any other scientist, even after giving him the benefit
of the description here given of my apparatus. I ask
the world, Can it doubt the verity of my invention?
And I challenge any scientist to forestall me in any,
even of the subordinate, inventions and discoveries
upon which my great invention depends. I feel secure
in my superiority. I can afford to be generous.*
*
I am glad to see that the Hon. Ignatius Donnelly holds similar views. He says:
"The explanation of the way in which the key numbers that unlock the cipher
story in the two plays, First and Second, Henry IV, I reserve for the present,
intending in the future to work out the remainder of the narrative in these
two plays, which I here leave unfinished. It may, of course, be possible that
some keen mind may be able to discover how these numbers are obtained and
anticipate me in my work. I have to take the risk of that. My publishers
concur with me in the belief that the copyright laws of the United States will
not give me any exclusive right to the publication of that part of the cipher
narrative in the plays which is not worked out by myself. 'The laborer is
worthy of his hire,' and if such a discovery as this could have been anticipated
by the framers of our copyright laws they would certainly have
provided for it." — [The Great Cryptogram, pp. 583-4.
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My complete outfit was arranged as follows: At the
top was a large elastic balloon-shaped sack, fully two
hundred feet high and one hundred feet in diameter,
capable of being expanded to many times these
dimensions. Beneath this was my motor engine, about
thirty feet in height, inclosed within a glass reservoir
made of the finest annealed glass, pear-shaped except
at the bottom, where protruded a set of fans on either
side, which could, by electricity, be elongated to sixty
feet or shortened to ten feet to accommodate the ship
to the density of the medium in which it was sailing.
These fans assisted in guiding and propelling the ship
on the same principle that a bird flies. (See Duke of
Argyll's "Reign of Law.") Beneath this was my Crystal
Palace, in the shape of a sphere with a flat bottom,
which, when occupied, weighed three hundred pounds.
I, myself, being a large man of six feet two inches,
weighed two hundred when in normal weight, but
now I weighed only one hundred and fifty pounds.
When everything was completed, I took my place in
the Crystal Palace, seated myself in a rocking chair, and,
by the pressure of a small key, I set the motor a-going.
This released the ship above, and away I sailed.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER II.
THE VOYAGE AND ITS ADVENTURES.
Of all the voyages ever made by man I suppose this
one of my experience is the most daring — a voyage
of fifty million miles through space. What were my
chances of success? If a tiny meteor, of which more
than four million fall to the earth each year, were
to strike any part of my machinery, I should be
killed. But I knew this before I started. I had made
a calculation of one's chances of death from this
source, and found them to be about the same as of
recovering from a case of small pox. I was willing to
run the risk. My confidence in my apparatus was
complete. I believed, if not prevented by external
hinderance, that I could go to the outermost confines of
the universe, or as far as our atmosphere extends; for
ether, the gas of my ship, is 200,000,000 times lighter
than hydrogen. I promised myself, however, if I
reached Mars in safety, that I would not venture
further.
At my first view after leaving it, the earth's appearance
was certainly the grandest sight ever witnessed
by man. When it is remembered that my ship was traveled
at the almost incredible speed of a million miles
a day, it will be seen that I had to make my observations
quite rapidly. I made my first observation when
I was free from the densest portion of our atmosphere
— about fifty miles out. Up to that time I was
further inflating my ship, which was now distended
enormously. When I had become free from the denser part
of our atmosphere, I gazed at the earth. As yet it had
not the appearance of a heavenly body; it was simply
a dense looking mass of matter. The ocean looked
like a sea of glass as level as the smoothest plain.
The land had an angry appearance from dense
clouds that rolled and tumbled as if blown by a mighty
wind. Had he not known, no one could believe such
a planet inhabited. It looked more like the home of
some huge monster than that of human beings. While
I looked, I noticed the clouds gradually capture, as it
were, the glassy sea; then the scene grew more
portentous, for the clouds rolled mountains high and the
land became invisible except a small rim at the outermost
edge, which was rapidly being encroached upon.
In less than an hour from the time I left the earth, it
looked like one huge mass of turbulent, seething, foaming,
billowing storm clouds. What made the scene
look more terrible was that the clouds appeared to be
composed of some dense substance like molten lead.
They seemed capable of bearing ships; and looked
like the surface of the earth. If I had not known
better I should have believed the world to be an
entirely different body from what it is — a sleepy, old
home-like affair, with none of this sublime scenery
visible to man, who is beneath it.
My ship was sailing finely. Its machinery worked
to perfection. I got out my drawings, my charts, and
my instruments, and began to take my bearings. One
who has made no calculations about interplanetary
navigation will necessarily think it hazardous; but
after a moment's thought one sees that this is due to a
prejudice against aerial navigation, and to a foolish
fear resulting from superstition. To me it does not
look so dangerous to attempt a voyage to Mars in the
nineteenth century as it was to cross the Atlantic
ocean in the fifteenth century. The elements then
were all unsubdued; but today man is monarch, or
rather god, of the universe. The poor mariner in the
fifteenth century, not even knowing the earth to be a
sphere, was a most helpless being; but today scientists
are as familiar with the universe, with suns and
planetary systems, as the mariner then was with our poor
mundane sphere. His ignorance was the cause of his
weakness. But today all is changed. The true
emancipator is the intellect. It annihilates time and
space. It makes man a god. I never realized this
trite truth so fully as I did now while I was studying
my chart and saw that I was following a calculated
line through space more accurately than a ship can
travel a given course across the Atlantic.
I will not attempt to describe my feelings, yet I
should do so; for no poet has done justice to the
emotion that rises in one's heart when a great intellectual
achievement is accomplished. Poets sing of love, of
fame, and of almost every other emotion; but that
which I now felt is above their experience. It was a
feeling of independence, a feeling of loftiness, mixed
with the serenest and calmest happiness I have ever
enjoyed. If ever a man is allowed to feel like
a god, I felt so. It was not a passing emotion, but one
of lasting duration. Like a true love, it stood through
all the hours of this adventurous journey as the great
sustainer of my many hopes!
I expected to pass the moon when out a few hours,
and determined to make some observations. I had not
thought of it before, and, as I had made my calculations
solely in regard to reaching Mars at perihelion,
I was not permitted to make a close observation of
the moon, without deviating somewhat from my
course. As it was, I did not pass as close as I
wished; but by deviating ten points from my course
I came within a few miles of it. This was in one
sense a very disappointing investigation.
A human being likes to see life; but in this regard one
is badly disappointed in the moon. It is more dead
than the Dead Sea, for it has not even so much as salt
water. The moon looks like a small earth that has
been burned to death. Extinct volcanoes, ten miles
across, look like huge blisters that have been thrown
up in agony. The mountains are of white stone and
are gradually crumbling away. The soil looks like the
inside of a puddling furnace when it is cold, as inelastic
and metallic as burnt iron. It is one great scene of
death. Not a sound, not a movement — all is death! I
cannot conceive of a more dismal place — a solid dead
rock without water or atmosphere. The only change it
undergoes is that of heat and cold, and these come from
without, and will some day reduce the moon to one
level of dead dry dust! I was glad to leave this
dismal object behind, yet as I passed on into the
universe, I realized only too well that I was leaving the
earth and her system, perhaps forever.
A new feeling took possession of me, a kind of fear
mixed with hope. After analyzing it, I found it to be
an emotion resulting from lack of experience in
interplanetary travel. It conjured up many imaginary
accidents, had me wrecked by meteors, comets, or
satellites. I was beginning to feel most miserable when,
by self-examination, I made a discovery — I was
hungry! I at once proceeded to eat my dinner; for, by
consulting my watch, I saw that, by earth time, which
I still kept, it was noon. After eating, my recent
emotion was dissipated. I think that nine times out of
ten the true causes of fears and of hopes have nothing
to do with the impressions we are undergoing, but are
due to bodily and mental feelings controlled by other
conditions. A man's stomach more often makes of
him a coward than thoughts of real danger; and his
imagination gives rise to more hopes than the facts in
the case justify.
I took a short nap after dinner. When I awoke, I
examined my instruments, consulted my charts, and saw
that I had not deviated a point from my course. There
is this beauty about interplanetary travel: the medium
you are traveling in is subject to no violent changes to
affect you and your vessel, for instance like the earth's
atmosphere and ocean. My craft was very fragile
indeed, yet in comparison to the strength of its medium
it was many times stronger than an ocean steamship.
If there were no meteors (for comets and other large
heavenly bodies can be avoided), there would be
comparatively no danger in interplanetary travel; and I
predict, even as it now is, that the time will soon come
when there will be commerce between Venus, the earth,
and Mars, for, beyond a doubt, they are all inhabited.
When this comes to pass, man will have reached
a stage wherein he can claim for his home the solar
system instead of one of the smallest of its planets.
Each kind of travel affects one with its own peculiar
complaint. Traveling by rail causes most people to
have the headache; by water it makes one sea-sick. I
found that my mode of travel also had its inconvenience,
or complaint. I was out several hours before it
came upon me in its full effect. Interplanetary travel
subjects one to sleepiness. The stillness is unimaginable.
The motion is so rapid, without jar or shock,
that it has a powerful somnific effect. I believe,
however, that this is an incentive to such travel instead of
a determent, for it subjects one to no inconvenience
about amusement, which, for a lengthened term in a
circumscribed sphere, would be a difficult matter. I
felt this drowsiness coming upon me, and resisted it
for a time, but soon I saw that this was useless. So I
arranged everything, wound up my watch, and made
preparations for a long sleep, for I felt very much as if
I had not slept any, so far, in all my life, and must
take a Rip Van Winkle snooze to make up for lost
time.
How long I had slept, I could not guess, when I
awoke. I consulted my watch. It appeared that I had
not slept at all, for it lacked a few minutes of the time
at which I had gone to sleep! This was strange. I
looked at the earth to see if it had changed in appearance,
when the thought flashed upon me that I had
been asleep for twelve hours! The size of the earth
had diminished considerably. It was about as large
as the sun, but not so bright, nor so distinct in outline
as the moon. The surface of the earth in no place
could be seen, nor could the clouds; the atmosphere
alone was visible. I looked for other landmarks. The
moon was greatly diminished, so much, indeed, I
calculated that at the planet Jupiter it would be
invisible. However, I was not going that far.
Mars looked perceptibly nearer, while the sun was not
so luminous as at the earth. I was awake probably
half an hour when I felt sleepiness coming upon
me again. It could not be resisted. I made haste to
observe my path for several million miles, and seeing
nothing in my way, I relapsed into a peaceful slumber.
Those who are unacquainted with navigation in
general — the difficulties it has to contend with, its
conditions and possibilities, will be inclined to be skeptical,
when they read of this not-at-all remarkable speed of
a million miles a day; but when it is remembered that
the resistance of friction is reduced to almost nothing,
that the motor power of my ether ship is beyond
comparison, that the motor power of my engine is on a
self-conservative principle equal to perpetual motion,
it will not be deemed remarkable. My ship, with
all its delicacy of apparatus, could not make anything
near this speed in a dense atmosphere like the earth's,
Venus's, or that of Mars; but out in interplanetary
space, where it is comparatively free from hinderance
in its action, the case is wholly different. But such
speed will be denied by some, just as the speed of the
locomotive was denied before trial. We are prone to
judge of our ability by our weakness, and not by our
strength. There is no limit to man's power when
properly guided by intelligence.
No accident occurred worthy of note until I had been
out from Earth (it is time that I began to refer to Earth,
not as our own, but as a common planet) about twenty-five
days. My time had been spent mostly in sleep, which
was delicious and refreshing. My personal appearance
was improved at least one hundred per cent. I
had never thought much about it, but now I discovered
that I was a handsome man. But to the accident.
I awoke generally about three o'clock in the afternoon
(Earth time) to make my observations and to take
notes (my log-book of the voyage, as it were), when I
noticed in the distance exactly, or nearly, in my path,
a small planet, or asteroid, as such bodies are called.
I doubt if this asteroid can be seen from earth, but it
is probably visible from Mars. What was I to do?
Of course I could easily deflect my craft, but while
asleep I would be thrown at least twelve hours' distance out of my way, with a possibility of being lost
for some time; while, if I continued in my course, I
might collide with this asteroid, and thus end the
voyage and my life. I calculated as well as I could
and found that with my greatest speed I could not
reach the asteroid until I awoke again. So I dropped
asleep with the full determination that if everything
did not go on as usual I would awake.
I slept, perhaps, ten hours, when I awoke with a
start. I noticed that my ship was going perceptibly
slower, owing to its coming in contact with some dense
gas. It was the asteroid's atmosphere. I had made a
miscalculation of its distance from me, owing to the
fact that I had failed to make due allowance for the
diminished light of the sun. I kept on in my course,
for I was not in the least sleepy now. I intended
to run within a few miles of this little world and see
what it was like. Traveling at my speed, of course
this was not a long time — about like the first stop of a
local passenger train out from a city. I worked in haste
to get everything ready. As soon as I was within a few
miles of the asteroid, I changed my course so as to pass
by it without harm.
This little world — Kingania (for so I called it) — was
about fifty miles in diameter, with a very heavy
atmosphere. I could see clouds, water, and land. I have
my doubts about its being inhabited, but from its
lovely green groves, its high mountains, and its beautiful
lakes, I think it would make a perfect paradise
for man. Then an idea struck me; some day would
not Kingania and like asteroids be owned by rich
men as places for residence after they had made their
millions? I immediately wanted to take possession
of my discovery, but desisted when I remembered that
it was not the acquisition of territory that was the
object of my voyage, but the acquisition of knowledge.
Yet a train of thought ensued as this lovely little
summer residence of a planet receded from my view.
Would not the time come when explorers like myself
would travel space as our predecessors had traveled
our drop of an ocean, and find worlds as they formerly
found islands and continents? Certainly. And I
determined to be the Columbus in this new field. There
is an opportunity here for the development of all the
genius any of us have. I even thought of a law I
would have enacted — (I mention this to show that
while I may be called a theorist, yet I am not devoid
of practicability): "Discovery of a planet or asteroid
by sight does not constitute ownership." I think this
a just law, for discovery by sight is no more discovery
in the true sense of the word than the vain traditions
of the New Atlantis constituted discovery of
America. Furthermore, this is a good law, because it
would shut out all those cowardly and mercenary men
who make oracular discoveries which cover almost any
real discovery that a true scientist like myself might
make. Such men I detest and denounce as charlatans
and quacks.
But by this time I had once more regained my path
and was sailing along as nicely as before. The world
now was but a small, pale-looking sphere, somewhat
smaller than a foot ball; while the moon looked like
a tiny marble. The sun had diminished in size; it
looked about as large as the moon to the inhabitants
of the earth, but it was still bright. Mars looked
considerably larger than a tennis ball and brighter
than Earth's moon. Off to my left about a
million miles I noticed a comet — the reader will thank
me for not using astronomical language, as right
ascension, and so forth, for all this belongs to Earth,
and here is no more accurate than the common
every-day language I use. This common language is
what we all fall back on when we want to be
understood, and fly away from when we wish to appear
profound. I am no such pseudo-scientist. I desire to be
understood, for I know I must be clear to be believed.
Well, as I was about to say, I noticed off to the left,
about one million miles, a comet, which I knew would
at some time in the near future cross my path. I could
not tell at what rate it was going; but I judged as
near as I could that it was about as great as mine.
If so, we could pass and cause no damage. It was a
large comet of at least a million miles in length, but
I noticed that it was not of a very dense substance.
Having satisfied myself that there was no immediate
danger, I relapsed into a peaceful slumber.
I was awakened by an intense light shining through
my closed eyelids. For a moment I could not tell
what was the matter. Then I thought of the comet, and
began, as well as I could, to make observations. I saw
that I had passed its head and body (for a comet is a
body like a huge horizontal sky-rocket, if I may use
such a diminutive figure to picture to the intelligence
so large a thing), and I was now in its tail; yet I
noticed no perceptible change in my craft. This led
me to make a great discovery; comets are composed
of incandescent gas, almost as imponderable as ether.
The head of the comet is simply the gas backed up till.
it forms a bulk from coming in contact with its resisting
medium. I could have sailed through this comet
at any place, without harm or hurt. While this
discovery may seem insignificant to an inhabitant of
Earth, yet it is of vast importance to the interplanetary
voyager, for it reduces his chances of danger greatly.
I was quite a time getting free from the comet, and
found that some of it followed me a great distance,
which I was loath to part with, as it furnished me
excellent light, which by this time was almost necessary,
for I was getting further and further from the sun. I
made a note in my journal. Could the gas of comets
be caught and utilized by interplanetary voyagers? I
had not the inclination to think about it then, but I
now predict that this natural gas of space will some
day be used by us as artificial light for asteroids, which
to my notion are not light enough for human beings.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER III.
FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE VOYAGE AND MY FIRST
EXPERIENCE IN MARS.
After leaving the comet I fell into a peaceful slumber.
Suddenly I awoke. It seemed to me that I was
in imminent danger. While I am not in the least
superstitious, yet there are times when I cannot but
harken to those forebodings to which we are all
subject. The helplessness of my condition dawned upon
me with overwhelming force, and the foolhardiness of
my adventure was realized. The dangers of the
voyage seemed to be increasing, while my power of
overcoming them was diminishing. I sincerely regretted
that I had not landed on Kingania and overhauled my
craft, for I felt that it was becoming insecure. Sleep was
impossible. I arose and walked about my abode.
Meteors were falling in every direction, and directly in
my path they seemed to be thicker than at any other
point. I was becoming alarmed. Seizing the rope
that controlled the fans of my ship, I decided to
slacken my speed, when the strangest accident that
could possibly have occurred, happened — a meteor
struck the outside fastening of the floor of my Crystal
Palace and it slowly began to give way from one side
and to swing down on its hinge as a door might have
done. There I was, suspended in space, clutching with
my left hand the rope that controlled the fans. I felt
a stifling sensation in my chest from lack of air. Each
second seemed an age. I thought of one way to save
my life. If I could reach the cross bar that connected
the two fans, with the extra length of rope in my hand,
I might raise the bottom of my car and thus restore
my abode to its original condition. The painful sensation
of pressure on my chest was diminishing. I could
breathe! Joy of joys! I noticed that I was approaching
an asteroid, and as Fate would have it, its atmosphere
was adapted to the necessities of my organism.
I would yet save myself; at least I should not die from
suffocation. But my strength was fast giving out. I
could elevate myself only with the greatest exertion.
By a herculean effort I succeeded in raising
myself to within a short distance of the cross bar of
the fans. I grasped it; but I was so weak that I could
not hold it! Oh, God! I felt my grasp loosen! To
have dared and done so much, yet lose all! The race
would never know of my achievements. King would
never be a name to live while time lasts. All was
lost! I closed my eyes, and involuntarily breathed a
prayer, "God help me!" For an instant I was falling,
then I felt one of my feet entangled in some of my
apparatus, and I swung head downward in space! My
foot had caught between the rungs of my chair, which,
by a single rocker, was clinging to my electric apparatus.
Thus I swung backward and forward in space!
Each instant I expected the rocker to break or my
foot to slip from between the rungs of the chair. I
dared not move! Measureless space was below! Nothing
but an accident between me and eternity! I must
have swung thus for a minute. It seemed a lifetime!
The atmosphere of the asteroid was invigorating. It
had become so dense that I could breathe with ease. I
was overcoming the horror of my situation. If I could
regain the cross bar, deflect my ship, and alight on this
asteroid, I could yet save my life. Gradually I regained
my full presence of mind. My self-confidence came
back to me. Steadily, with the ease of a trapeze
performer, I raised myself until I could grasp the frame of
the chair, then I disengaged my foot, and with my right
hand grasped the rope that controlled the fans, and
stopped myself from swinging backward and forward,
which was beginning to make me dizzy. I rested a
moment there. I looked out to see how far from me the
approaching asteroid was. A new danger presented
itself. Horror of horrors! It was within a few miles
of me, and if I could not at once reach the cross bar,
deflect or stop my craft, I would collide with it! In
my haste to grasp the bar my foot slipped off the chair,
where I had been resting it, and I swung off on the rope
once more so violently that it closed the fans, and I
felt my ship sinking downward. Once more I began
to hope. I climbed the rope hand over hand until I
reached the cross bar, then I arranged the valves to
enable a small amount of ether to escape so I could
alight on the asteroid without danger. I was descending
beautifully. It seemed at every moment that I was
about to alight; then, as it were, the asteroid would
recede. I was mystified and thought: "Surely this falling
will sometimes come to an end." At last, when I felt
that I absolutely must alight, — I awoke! Yes, it had all
been a dream! I breathed a sigh of relief, arose, put
away the remains of some pastry (or some common pie,
if I must confess it) upon which I had made my last
meal, and resolved that I would eat no more pastry
during this voyage.
When I examined my instruments, I found that my
ship never was in better condition, and my chances of
completing the voyage were the best in the world.
I had no further adventures until I arrived off the
atmosphere of Mars.
I was nearing the end of my journey. To say the
least of it, my feelings were solemn. Perhaps death
awaited me; perhaps immortality; for the race can
never deny immortality to the man who increases his
habitat from Earth to that of the solar system, and it
may be to the whole universe. And, too, I was sad
because this journey, which had been so pleasant, was
drawing to an end. In all my life I do not remember
a holiday on which I was happier than I had been on
this voyage; but, like all other joys, it was not lasting.
Mars, as it now appeared, was about as large as
Earth looks from the moon; — but then you have not
seen Earth from that body, so this statement does not
appeal to your experience. To be comprehensible,
Mars looked like the moon magnified about five
hundred times. It was surrounded by a beautiful, luminous
atmosphere, which appeared like the halo around
a sacred picture. The clouds beneath could be seen
but dimly, while the land and water could not be
distinguished at all. This observation, of course, was
made with the naked eye.
At this time I was in proximity to Mars's two moons,
but as luck would have it — the reader will pardon this
expression in a scientific book, for I confess my
impotency to explain all phenomena in a purely scientific
terminology — these two moons were on the side of
Mars opposite to me. As it was, from my distance, I
could see that there was not much difference between
them and our moon, or rather, Earth's satellite. They
have a rarified atmosphere, and I think are not entirely
destitute of life. I could distinguish this atmosphere
at times quite plainly. I intend to describe them more
fully on my return trip, and will postpone further
mention of them until then.
While the reader has had a very fair description of
my apparatus, yet I fear that he does not either fully
appreciate its perfection or its disadvantages. In
interplanetary space, where the resisting medium is
rare, and is subject to no violent changes, travel is
comparatively safe; but when it is attempted in a
dense atmosphere, like that of Earth or of Mars, the
danger is very great.
I first noticed a resisting medium when I was
twenty-five thousand miles from Mars. The
atmosphere there is what physicists, in experimenting, call
one-millionth of an atmosphere, which is probably five
hundred times denser than interplanetary atmosphere.
I found it necessary to lessen the size of my ship by
allowing some of its ether to escape. This I
accomplished without any trouble, for my apparatus, despite
the long voyage, was in excellent condition, and I, in
all my life, never felt better.
By the time I arrived off the extremely dense
portion of Mars's atmosphere, say two hundred miles from
the surface of the planet, I had so slackened my speed
that I was going not more than one mile a minute;
but this will seem very fast to you. As my plans were
fully made, my anticipated alighting did not in the
least discomfort me. The surface of Mars could now
be distinctly seen, and I observed that there was at
least as much land as water, and that the land and
water were better distributed than on Earth.
I now boldly allowed all but a modicum of the
ether to escape from my ship, and set its fans in the
shape of a parachute, or as the wings of a bird in
alighting, and continued my descent in the most graceful
manner. As I neared the surface, I noticed that
the atmosphere was exceptionally dense, so dense that
for a time I stopped suspended in the air like a bird
about to alight, yet not determined. This really was
an advantage to me, for it gave me an opportunity to
look about for a suitable place to alight. To my left
I could see what I made out to be a scattering city,
while beneath me was a plain, or lake, I could not tell
which. I was as one in the dark, where one often mistakes a small pool for a smooth piece of ground.
Deciding that this was a plain, I allowed all the ether of
my ship, except enough to keep it erect, to escape. I
continued my descent. But the atmosphere became
still denser, and I was brought to a stand still, which
gave me another opportunity to observe my new home.
I saw that what I had supposed to be a lake was a
great plain of luxuriant grass, with here and there
strange looking buildings upon it, which I took for
the houses of the inhabitants.
Allowing still more ether to escape, I continued my
descent, and when within a few hundred yards of the
surface, I was again brought to a stop by the increasing
density of atmosphere. It seemed that my craft
was swimming in water. I found that I could
complete my descent only by liberating all the ether from
my ship. I feared that when this were done the
balloon would topple over on the engine, obstruct its
action, cause a wreck, and in a confused mass, all would
be dashed to the ground. I could, however, do nothing
but venture.
My descent began before all the ether had escaped,
and when I attempted to close the valve, from some
cause, it would not work. I immediately jumped to
my engine, arranged the fans to act as a parachute,
and thus checked my fall. But this caused the ship to
descend faster than the car, and they became
entangled. Quick as thought I geared my apparatus for
the manufacture of ether. My descent was checked.
For one instant I paused in space; then the ship began
to expand. It struggled like a thing of life to free
itself from the car. Suddenly it shot upward. There
was a ripping sound; then it collapsed like a
punctured bubble. Was my dream coming true? I thought
all was lost! This would have been the case if the
ground had been another hundred feet away. As it
was, when I alighted I was considerably shaken up;
however, my car was not broken, nor was the engine
injured, but the ship was a complete wreck — a long
slit having been torn in it by one of the fans of the
engine.
Here I was on a strange planet and destined to stay.
As yet I knew nothing about the planet's being
inhabitable by man, for the reader will remember that
I was in a balanced atmospheric car, hermetically
sealed, which would serve me for a habitation so long
as my food lasted.
The first thing I did was to ascertain whether or
not this planet was inhabitable. I had provided
apparatus for this purpose. Applying my air-pump to
an aperture, which I had made, I pumped in some of
the outside atmosphere and chemically examined it.
Imagine my joy! It was composed of twenty-five
parts oxygen, seventy parts nitrogen, with the rest
carbonic acid gas, watery vapor, and other harmless
gases in slight proportions. Now, I could see why
this atmosphere seemed so dense. It was because I
had been sailing in almost free space, and when I came
to think about it, Mars's atmosphere was but little
denser than that of Earth.
I was not in the least afraid now to walk forth and
take possession of this planet, and claim it for myself
and the United States of America, Earth; yet I
thought it best to make no haste. One of the first
things I observed was that Mars has not old Earth's
glorious sunlight. It has not that bright vivifying
appearance which characterizes Earth's sunlight on fine
days. Its light appeared about as bright as the
sunlight in England on a foggy day. Don't understand
me to say that it looks all the time as if it were going to
rain, for that is not the case; Mars is as clear as
Earth, but not so bright.
The sun appears about as large as the moon viewed
from Earth. Our Earth looks about the size of a star
of the first magnitude. Earth's moon is invisible, I
think, owing to the density of Mars's atmosphere and
a lack of light. But enough of these scientific observations.
After waiting for some time to see if any one was
coming up to me (if, indeed, there was any one to
come), I exhausted the air of my ship, caused the top
to come off by a leverage movement, and then stepped
out on the surface of this virgin planet.
Ecstasy is mild in comparison with my feelings on
this occasion. What had I, a ridiculed scientist,
accomplished? How I would be revenged, like Nature,
silently, on those who had pointed at me the finger of
scorn, and cried, "Crank!" Yes; I had done more than
Aristotle, Bacon, or Spencer; more than Phidias,
Raphael, or Angelo; more than Homer, Dante, or
Shakespeare; more than Alexander, Cæsar, or
Napoleon; more than Solon, Burke, or Washington; Ptolemy,
Columbus, or Edison — more than any other man,
in any age, in any clime. I had discovered a world; I
had proved that man is little lower than a god! But
I was brought to a realization of the fact that I was
still human by finding that I was exceedingly hungry.
I proceeded at once to search my locker for a suitable
repast to celebrate this wonderful achievement. I had
not thought of a celebration before leaving home, yet
I am as patriotic an American as can be found, and
believe in celebrations on all occasions. It was an
oversight, I assure you. When I had seated myself to eat
my frugal repast, there came up to me one of the
inhabitants of Mars.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER IV.
VICTORIAN, OR A PERFECT MAN.
That the reader may fully understand the remainder
of this Journal, I will state that, like all scientists, I
am not given to panegyric; that extravagant language
with me is a thing unknown; that I simply set down
the facts so that they can be verified by any one
coming after me. I disdain all eloquence, poetry, or other
embellishment of language as being in opposition to
accuracy of statement. With this preface I will state
that the being now standing before me was the most
wonderful creature I had ever seen. It will be difficult
for me to describe him, from lack of similitudes which
the reader would understand. He was a being resembling
a man, or rather man is a being resembling him,
for he was as much more perfect than a man as man is
more perfect than a monkey, or at least than the lowest
of savages. He was the exact form of a human
being, but his proportions were perfect. The nearest
likeness I know of to him is found in some of Michael
Angelo's warriors, yet with his great physical perfection,
there was not a suggestion of brutal strength;
there was only perfection of development.
This being was dressed altogether differently from
any form of dress that I had ever seen or read of. His
clothes fit his body closely, with no loose flaps or hanging
parts, except from the hip down, where a sort of
tunic extended half way to the knees, while the lower
limbs, as well as the upper, were encased in tight-fitting
garments. His feet were covered with soft, neatly-fitting
boots, without any iron or metal about them
that I could see. He wore no covering on his head
save his light brown hair, which hung in waves down
his back. The people of Mars do not wear any head
dress, having dispensed with artificial ornaments, and
from the fact that the sun does not shine so brightly
there as on Earth. This native of Mars was of rosy
complexion-pink cheeks, with white forehead and
throat. The lower part of his face was covered with a
fine downy beard of a darker color than his hair. His
features were exceedingly bold, but so lovely and kind
that one would scarcely notice it. His forehead was
high, square, and perfectly straight; his nose
prominent and aquiline; his cheek bones were bold, but not
too high; his eyes were gray, deeply set, and exceedingly bright; his mouth was of great beauty — a perfect
Cupid's bow; his teeth were white as a flower; his ears
were small and rosy as a sea-shell.
I thought this grand being an apparition, caused by
my change of climate and of worlds. I was struck
dumb with admiration, and forgot to speak; but as
soon as I came to myself I hastened to do so, at the
same time rising to my feet and offering my hand. He
smiled kindly, and as I stood by his side, I noticed that,
if he was not a human being, he was at least of the
same stature. Before I arose I was of the impression
that he was much taller than he was. I addressed him
in English, which some day I hope to see the language
of the solar system. He made me no answer, for I
could see that he did not understand me. Then I
motioned him to partake of some of my food; again he
smiled. I saw that my effort to get him to speak was
useless, for he treated me as one would treat a child.
He stood and looked at me, and as I could do nothing
else I finished my meal. After dinner I motioned that
I would like to get my ship, engine, and car inside of
some inclosure, and that I wanted him to help me.
All at once he became serious and motioned me to
follow him.
I have seen graceful persons, but I confess that I
never knew how a human being should walk till I saw
this being walk. I was behind him, but passing up to
his side, I asked: "What are you?" at the same time
I pointed to him. Then pointing to myself, I said:
"I am a man." He replied: "Man." If I should live
always I shall never forget that voice! It was the first
perfect sound I had ever heard. It seemed to contain
the history of humanity within itself — all of music, all
of poetry, all of language! It thrilled me like some
great thought. Then, taking from my pocket a
note-book, I drew a rude outline of the solar system, and,
pointing to Earth, I said: "I am from Earth." He said,
pointing to Earth: "Earth"; then he pointed to Mars,
and looked at me and with his eyes asked: "What do
you call this planet?" I answered "Mars." He seemed
to come to some conclusion, for he pressed on more
rapidly than ever, and soon stopped on the bank of a
small stream where there was a beautiful grove of
trees with broad leaves, which seemed especially
designed for shade.
I noticed standing under one of the trees a strange
vehicle not altogether unlike a carriage, yet I could
see no place for horses to be hitched, nor could I divine
how the machine was propelled. He stepped aside,
while I was looking at the carriage, and got something
like an easel, which it turned out to be, but of a new
pattern. I stopped him and motioned him to let me
see the painting. It was the picture of a cloud remarkably
executed. He placed it in the vehicle and
motioned me to get in. This I did, expecting to see him
push me, which I did not very much fancy, for I could
not bear to see a being as perfect as he push a clumsy
and ill-shaped fellow like myself. But he got in beside
me, and then touching a key with his left hand, he
took a lever with his right, and the vehicle moved off
across the country at about as rapid a rate as a carriage
drawn by a fiery span of horses. We passed by my
craft, and he stopped and motioned me, if I wished to
do so, to get anything we could carry. There was
some room in the back end of the carriage, so I got out
and put in my books and delicate instruments, at the
same time covering up the engine with the torn sack
of the ship; then I got into the carriage and signaled
that I was ready for travel.
The country through which we were passing was
a plain covered with beautiful green grass. To my
left was a stream; its banks were covered with a grove
of fine trees. Off to my right was a rise in the land,
and at its lower extremity was a lake. Due north was
a plain slightly elevated, and I noticed a collection of
objects which I took to be the buildings of a city. We
were traveling along in such a quiet manner, having
come into a public highway, which was as smooth as a
stone floor, that I fell into a train of thought. I was
trying to formulate some plan whereby I could make
my companion understand me, and I determined to
teach him the English language, beginning with the
names of things that I could point to, and then passing
on to onomatopœiaic verbs, such as buzz and smack.
I began at once by pointing to the various things in
the carriage, and calling their names, my companion
calling the names after me. When I had named all
the articles near at hand, he began to call the same by
their names in Matosh, for that is the name of his
language. I made haste to get out my note-book and
pencil; and, consulting it now, I find this first lesson
in Matosh: "Yaggen," bottom; "daso," wheel; "oei,"
lever; "hapeb," sky. I found afterward that these
words are not spelled as pronounced. In Matosh there
are a number of silent vowels; as many as silent consonants
in English. In print the letters to be
pronounced are marked, and where there is to be a vowel
supplied it is indicated. In the foregoing words I have
supplied the vowels. Take, for example, " oei," which
is pronounced almost like "we;" while "daso" is
pronounced almost like "das," which is, as you know, the
definite article in German.
I saw in an instant that I would not be long in learning
his language nor he mine, if I could only get him
interested in it. I noticed one thing, however, that
was quite gratifying, even with his beautiful voice,
Matosh is not nearly so pleasant a language as
English. I observed, too, that it is not so plentiful in
synonyms; in fact, I could find none. Each word is
distinct in itself, has its own peculiar meaning, and is
always used in the same sense. I could not but notice
how this would destroy most poetry and eloquence,
and so I expected to find Matosh a language of prose,
full of dry, hard, distinct words.
I pointed to my list of English words and then to
his list of Matosh words, and said: "This is English;
what is that?" He answered, "Matosh." I saw that
already we could converse pretty well. His eyes were
so expressive that he could almost speak with them; but
as yet we could carry on no conversation, nevertheless I
made bold to ask: "Where are you going!" He looked
at me and smiled. I could not tell why. Then he
said: "Razan gapmet ga nat san." With the help of his
eyes, and the expression of his face, I understood
him. Yet these words, even with his beautiful, mild
voice, were harsh. I will translate them, for now I am
master of Matosh; yet a literal translation is difficult;
much more difficult than to translate any of the
languages of Earth, for they are all akin, and I could
find no resemblance in Matosh to any of them. This
is the translation: "Self exist with yourself to habitat."
Or to put it in a free translation: "I am taking
you to my home."
As yet we had met no one; still we must have traveled
five miles. The country was very beautiful.
Everything seemed to be under the control of the
inhabitants. Most of the land was in grass, but I
could see no stock on it. I happened to think that
probably this was the wrong season of the year for
raising crops. I could not ask what season it was.
Yet I concluded it was spring. It looked as if it might
be the last of April or the first of May; and
remembering that the year in Mars is about twice as
long as a year on Earth, I thought that a sufficient
explanation of why I saw no crops.
On the edge of almost every field I saw huge round
buildings with dome-shaped roofs. I could not guess
what these buildings were for, and so, pointing to one
of them, I asked: "What is that?" My companion
answered: "Sah." Then, I said: "What is it for?"
Then he replied, for he seemed to be able to understand
me from my very wish to know, "Max senrib."
And, as I remembered that he called our carriage this
strange lot of letters, I concluded that these houses
were for the farmers' implements. I could see no
sense in being so very careful of so common an
implement as a plow. Afterward I learned that
these people take as much care of farm implements
as scientists do of their instruments. Surely they
must enjoy farming better than the Americans do.
We now approached the city, but as the light of
Mars is not so bright as that of Earth, and, as it was
about sundown, I could not distinguish any of the
inhabitants, further than that they all appeared to be
of the same size, and not like the men of Earth; some,
as Americans, large, while others, as foreigners among
us, small. So I concluded that Mars's people were a
homogenous race; yet I hoped to receive a favorable
reception, for an American, wherever he goes, carries
with him the hospitality of his country and expects to
find it in others.
The Marsites' houses are beautiful, I presume, from
their point of view, and I confess, as time went on, I
became more enamored with them. They are all made
in circles with dome-shaped roofs, and are of
transparent material with various parts of it colored. There
are no windows. The light comes in from the roof or
the sides, if the buildings are more than one story
high, and even then I found that up through the centre
of the building there is a vast space extending from
the dome to the ground. The rooms are all made to
open on this space more or less like boxes in a
theatre; yet this is a poor description of these buildings. Many of them are pseudo hotels, yet not hotels
in the sense of the word as we use it; but I will
leave a description of the Marsites' home-life for a
subsequent chapter.
Victorian, for such I learned was my friend's name,
which was given him when he first acquired the art of
walking — Victorian, as I was about to say, stopped our
carriage before a fine villa, with blue roof and
transparent sides, and motioned me to alight. I did so;
then, placing the vehicle under an outhouse in the
rear of his residence, he bade me enter. This I did,
he following, through a portal, or door, yet there was
no shutter to the entrance. After passing through a
hall we stopped at the centre of the building where
the elevator, which carried us to an upper chamber, or
saloon, was situated. It seemed to be a reception
room. Victorian pointed to a divan, and I seated
myself. He stepped to a table at the centre and touched
a key. (In all these references to common earthly
furniture you must understand that my words are
not perfectly accurate.) I heard a bell ring at some
distant part of the building, and in a moment I saw
the elevator ascending, and, then there stood before
me the most divine, yet the most human creature, I
have ever seen. Victorian said:
"Nab hahgi, za hagmeti," which translated means —
"My sister, a stranger."
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER V.
VICTORIA, OR A PERFECT WOMAN.
I could do nothing but look at this wonderful creature
— one long, steadfast look that absorbed my whole
being. If the most perfect human form ever produced
by painter's brush or sculptor's chisel were placed
beside this being, it would pall into insignificance.
Standing before me was what almost every man at
some time in his life has dreamed of — a perfect
woman; a being whom all poets have attempted, but
have ever failed, to describe. I don't pretend to be
an artist, or a poet, but simply a scientist, and, having
had some experience in classifying and describing the
flora and fauna of Earth, I will, with the boldness of
my class, attempt to describe this being.
She and Victorian were conversing, and ever and
anon she glanced at me. I will not describe this
being first, but her dress, for I think that will greatly
interest you. The evident object of it was to bring
out the contour of her form. She was built very much
like her brother, but was perceptibly smaller and
more refined in every particular. Her dress, which,
in my haste to describe its grand owner, I am forgetting,
was composed of a material like silk, and was of
three colors — pink, sky-blue, and white. The white
seemed to be the ground-work of the garment, while
the other colors were arranged for the purpose of
contrast or ornamentation. The main garment was a
kind of drapery, which hung from her shoulders,
exposing her neck and bosom. At the waist it tapered
in, and then out at the hips, finally falling in folds to
the knees.
Comparing it with Victorian's dress, I
saw that they were of one pattern, but hers was of
finer material and varied more to fit her form. Her
limbs were similarly dressed. Her feet were covered
with white shoes made of a pliable substance, unlike
anything I had ever seen. She wore no ornaments
except her hair, which was arranged in the most
bewitching style imaginable; it looked like a bouquet of
wavelets caught and transferred to her beautiful head.
She seemed to differ most from other women in
muscular development. Her shoulders were almost, and
would have been quite, as square as her brother's, but
for the excessive size of the shoulder muscles, which
made them appear round. The double curvature of
the spine was quite, as prominent in her as in
Victorian, while the inward curve at the waist, and the
outward curve at the hips, together with her splendid
bust development and rounded limbs, made her a
being of curves.
Her face was most beautiful, altogether different in
expression from any I had ever seen. There was no
sign of deception, coquetry, or prudish modesty. She
seemed to be as independent and candid as a man.
Her beauty was much like Victorian's, but more
refined and delicate. Her skin was as much purer than
his, as his was purer than mine. Her complexion was
remarkably fine. The coloring of her cheeks was
phenomenal. At each instant pink waves were
followed by white. This is the nearest I ever saw a
"danem" come to blushing. (Danem is the class
name of this creature.) Her eyes possessed all the
beauty of those of our women, but instead of being
filled with emotion, as most beautiful women's eyes are
— that far off look which poets speak of — hers were
filled with intelligence; not of cunning, but of intellect.
This, of course, made her appear powerful and
free. Her face was perfectly smooth, except for her
eyebrows, which were like the penciled eyebrows of
an actress. The lashes of her eyes were long and
beautifully curved. I fancied that most of this being's
time would be employed in dressing her facial loveliness
to its perfection. Afterward I discovered my
mistake. This danem's mouth was a physiologic wonder.
It looked as if the muscles of the lips had been trained
by exercise to give the mouth its wonderful ability to
assume attitudes of beauty, and to express emotion
and thought. Without language, I think, a danem
could talk by the expression of her face. Her teeth
were so regular that they seemed like things of art,
instead of being natural. Her nose was aquiline and
extremely delicate. Her ears were small, pink, and
almost round. Her throat was exceptionally white,
and her breast defies description.
While I was looking at her, she caused to fall over
her arms a delicate gauze which in its folded form at
her shoulders I had not noticed. This was arranged
so as to be raised and lowered by a device similar to the
one we use in handling window curtains. I noticed it
across her bosom and concluded that it had some
kind of protecting power which I afterward learned it
had — a highly warmth-producing quality, and that it
was not worn for ornamentation. No one more than
myself feels how imperfect this description is. I wish
it were possible for you to ask me questions, and then,
perhaps, in the course of several hours, I might be
able to give you a fair idea of this danem's beauty.
She advanced and spoke to me — in English! If I
had seen the sun fall from the heavens, I should
not have been more struck with wonder! English I
said; but no, not with her voice; it was what English
will be when spoken by gods! I was thrilled as one
who hears sweet music! I was entranced, as one
before a great wonder!
"My brother tells me that you are an inhabitant of
Igsas on a visit to Nih, and would like to learn our
language, which I have consented to teach you."
"Yes," I succeeded in saying, and when I thought of
this being as a teacher, visions of impossible joys
arose before me, such as the wild and distorted
illusions which the poor have of the power of wealth to
produce happiness.
"You, no doubt, are surprised to hear me speak
English, even imperfectly as I do, for I understand
that I have but the provincial accent of the United
States. I have the good fortune to have a friend who
visited your planet some years ago. She was very
much chagrined at the treatment she received, and
gave such a doleful account of Earth that I believe no
one has ventured to visit it since, yet many have
passed it on their way to Emeh."
I sat wonder struck. I thought I had the passivity
of the average scientist to sit with a pair of scales, a
thermometer, an electrometer, or similar apparatus or
note book at hand, and mark any phenomenon, no
matter how wonderful or how divine; but I was not
sufficiently encysted in dry, immobile facts to withstand
this beautiful creature's most commonplace talk without
thrills of emotion impossible to describe, and so
joyous that the memory of them now brings melancholy.
"Franceska, my friend, gave me a poor account of
your people. She did not like to talk about them; yet
her description of Igsas has become a classic in our
language. You can read it some day."
Victorian said something to her in Matosh. She
laughed prettily, which sounded like the beginning of
some wonderful piece of music, so wonderful that it
might develop into anything, but it had the misfortune
to die away into nothing but a memory, which will
last forever.
"My brother will now take charge of you. When
you have rested, I will find you and give you your first
lesson in Matosh.
She left me, and there followed her a halo like the
setting of a sun. It was some time before I came to
myself, and when I did Victorian motioned me to follow him. I did so. We descended in the elevator, and
after crossing the inclosure, we entered a small room
on the east side of the building. It was a sleeping
chamber so curtained as to keep out all light.
Victorian, by motions, asked me if I were hungry. I told
him I was not. Pointing to a couch he bade me good-night,
and departed.
Imagine my thoughts! Of course they were all of
Victoria; for that was this wonderful creature's name.
When I closed my eyes, I saw her! When I listened,
I heard her sweet voice! When I thought, it was
of her! I aroused myself and consulted my watch,
but alas! it had run down. My last connection with
Earth was gone. I felt as if I should be at work, yet
so far as I could learn the people of Mars took things
easily, and at Rome, of course, I must do as Rome does.
This is a safe maxim; so I lay down and tried to
compose myself, and be rid of my visions of Victoria; but
I confess I would conjure them back again as they were
about to disappear, loath to part with them; and I
thought how characteristic of mankind this is: We
endeavor to rid ourselves of our illusions and delusions,
and yet hire men to teach them to our children, and
iterate them to ourselves until we half believe them in
spite of our reason and better judgment.
At last I fell asleep.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER VI.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOVE.
I am unable to state how the next few days passed.
There are emotions and experiences too vivid to leave
any portion of the mind idle; memory is confused.
Such was my life for the next few days. Victoria was
my constant companion, yet she was not with me more
than two or three hours a day. I never was so charmed
by any one before. This was something I had not
calculated on. I was a scientist. What had I to do
with woman? I made a great effort to resist the full
surrender of my being to this fair creature, and my
effort was praiseworthy, though unsuccessful. I was
sufficiently myself to give you a partial account of the
scene. It was about a week after I had landed on
Mars. I had mastered Matosh sufficiently to express
myself tolerably well. The scene occurred at the
conclusion of one of our lessons.
"Victoria, I shall be compelled to leave you and get
another teacher," I said, with indescribable humility
and timidity. I felt that I could say no more.
"Why?" she asked, looking at me in surprise.
I could not speak at once. She must have understood
my predicament, for she seemed to be
nonplussed. There was a silence for two "namengs" —
their second division of time, corresponding to our
minutes. Then, in a petulant manner, I spoke:
"Why — well — Victoria, can't you see? I love you!"
"You should not have confessed it!"
She seemed to be angry, or at least chagrined, yet
flattered withal, and before she spoke I felt that I was
forgiven. I felt relieved. I felt like a new man; the
heavy emotion of my heart was dissipating. If I could
have cried; "Victoria, Victoria! I love you! I love
you!" I would have been as light hearted as a bird
that sings to his mate above a new-made nest. I
saw that I had made a mistake. Victoria was at a
loss what to do. I looked at her with worshiping
eyes.
"Why should I not tell you that I love you?" I
asked in a despairing tone of voice.
"As imperfectly as you understand Matosh, and I
English, I do not know whether I can make you
understand me or not; yet I will try, although it is a
disagreeable task. In Nih the passions are altogether
subservient to reason and conscience. The facts of
human nature have been formulated into a science.
There is an art of life. Human beings are no longer
the sport of their passions."
"Do you mean to say that the people of Nih do not
love?"
"No; all the passions are regarded as social forces.
Institutions have been designed to use them as
machines are invented to use natural forces. With us
there is no good and bad in human nature; all is good.
The social organism is so perfectly developed that it
does not conflict with the individual. The adjustment
of man to society is exact. Love, used as a
generic term, is the greatest human force. It is now
perfectly regulated. It has ceased to be a tyrant, and
has become a servant."
"The poets of Earth never sing of love as a tyrant.
You certainly have not made yourself understood.
Love is no tyrant. Love" —
Here she stopped me in my eulogy on love, for
despite my tendencies to science I have, when on Earth,
often whiled the hours away by reading the poets, and
I was thoroughly orthodox on the subject of love.
"The tyranny of love is exemplified in your case.
If you could but see yourself as I see you, and had
the power to rid yourself of this passion, I am sure
you would not defend it. But it is ever thus with
people of your intelligence; they worship their gods,
although their gods are always their worst enemies,
and hate their devils, their best friends.
She seemed to be serious. I did not know what else
to say, so I said:
"But, Victoria, I love you, and I feel if you do not
marry me that I shall commit suicide!"
She turned to me and said:
"This is disgusting. You have turned affairs topsy-turvy.
Don't you know, if love is ever made, that it
is not a man's place to make it? I will tell you how
courtships are carried on in Nih. People marry from
love only when it is based on facts. For example,
they examine their traits of character to see if the
passion of love can be predicted as a result from
association. Woman always begins the examination,
conducts it, and ends it; man is almost passive. Women
know more of love, more of human life, than men do.
Man's knowledge is of society, woman's of the individual,
and how he is to be produced; consequently all
you have done in this matter is unmanly. To be candid
with you, I will confess that I had thought of you
in the light of a possible husband, for a danem seldom
is associated with a man unless she looks upon him in
that light, and I intended to speak to you about it
some time; but you have precipitated matters, and
have so confused me that I see no way of conducting
our courtship to a logical consummation after
scientific methods."
"Pshaw!" I said, making bold to speak my mind.
"You Marsites take all the poetry out of life!"
"Perhaps, we do; but we place in its stead organized
common sense, scientific knowledge, the only
thing that has ever done our race any good."
"Oh! you can't measure love with a yard-stick! I
myself am a scientist, but when it comes to making
love on scientific principles, I fly the track!"
"Yes; and that is one of the reasons why the civilization of Earth is so far behind the civilization of Mars.
You people have done everything but reduce life to a
science. You have subdued the world, but are the
victims of your own passions!"
I saw in an instant that the chief difference between
us was a misunderstanding; that, like all lovers, I had
spoken too soon. If I had let matters take their course,
my purpose would have been accomplished. Love is
best made by letting it make itself. All it asks for is
an opportunity, a chance, and it will grow as a flower.
Both man and woman should be passive until the very
last moment. On Earth man speaks; on Mars woman;
and I leave it to you to decide which is the better
method.
By this time, owing to its seriousness, I saw that
the interview was becoming painful, so I concluded
to give it a playful turn, and thus bring it to a close:
"Victoria, I was only jesting!" I said.
My eyes, however, gave my lips the lie, yet she took
this as an opportunity to blot out the scene as unreal,
when it was of the most positive reality, and she knew
it, too; but by a tacit mutual consent we decided to
count it as nothing, to accommodate ourselves to our
conditions, and so begin over again.
"I thought so," she answered.
But I knew she was prevaricating, and she knew
that I knew it (such stories are like the professional
lies that doctors tell; sinless), but we thought it best,
and so she left me.
I spent the rest of the day in reading the poets of
Mars on the subject of love. It did me but little good.
Then I turned to the scientists, and found what I
wanted. Fully one-half of their biologies are about
the tender passion; its nature; its action; its use; its
bad effects — how counteracted; in fact, all about love;
and in such a form that any one can understand it; but
how revolting to our taste! (I mean the taste of the
people of Earth). In Mars love is considered a property
of highly organized matter. It is one of the
manifestations of what they call the World-Force. It
is so hidden in its function that until recently it was
thought to be spiritual; however, it is purely physical.
The love our poets sing of as divine-physical!
Well, science has done much to dissipate man's roseate
views of Nature, yet this was too much for me, and no
matter if the medicine was labeled "scientific" I
decided not to take it. That you may see how
preposterous the Marsites' views on the subject of love
are, I will transcribe a few sentences:—
"Love is an energy generated by association between
opposite sexes. and is dissipated by contact."
(Just think of it! Our spiritual love, our affinity of
souls, reduced to this miserable materialistic formula!
"This contact must be complete, not transitory, such
as the touching of hands or of lips; if not complete,
more love will be generated than dissipated."
This theory of love is very luminous! It shows
us the philosophy of kissing, hand-sqeezing, etc., and
also, no doubt, is the origin of the saying: "When one
fly is killed two come to the funeral." This really
applies to cupids!
Well, in the most erroneous of theories there are
some good thoughts, so I found the reasons advanced
for woman's being the lover instead of man to be both
novel and entertaining, if not true. For example:
"Women are natural lovers, have been so formed by
Nature; for ages they were held in abeyance by
superstition and custom; but the race has made physical
improvement only through sexual selection, which is
woman's special function."
Indeed I was on another planet than old Earth!
For once in my life I felt what it was to love some one
with all my heart and yet be forbidden by disgusting
science to speak of it. If my nature were like woman's,
naturally undemonstrative, then it would be different,
but it is not. I felt like rebelling, yet fearing that I
might completely ruin my suit, I did nothing but stifle
my love and suffer! Yes, suffer, for of all the
emotions that beg, long, pray for action, for recognition,
for requital, love is the greatest!
I read further. I found that love was of two kinds!
No part of the treatise was more ridiculous than this:
Masculine love, if fully gratified, is killed.
However, by artificial means, or by absentation from the
loved object, it is revived. As a result, love in Mars
is never indulged in in the form of animal passion
except for the purposes of procreation. Love in the
form of affection has been reduced to a Fine Art; that
is, it subserves the perfect development of the
individual, and is an inexhaustible source of enjoyment.
Woman's love is different from man's love. It is for
the individual; man's is for the sex. Woman's love
is more lasting, deeper, stronger; yet it can be
transferred from one individual to another, providing each
individual is greater than the former. Love in Mars
by no means is the tragic passion that it is on Earth.
Love, like friendship, is free. People love for love's
own sake, with no ulterior purpose. Life is a delight
when human nature is free from all law, but subject to
reason and conscience.
Yes, I was in a new world. Why, the fact of love's
lasting a lifetime on Earth has never been disputed;
I mean by this the love of married persons for each
other, which the Marsites would call gratified love.
At this point I felt like throwing the book down.
Who would not? The author was confounding love
with animal passion; a most revolting mistake. As
the next division (their books are not divided into
chapters) was headed: "Methods of Love," I
concluded to read it.
"Methods of Love" I found to be forms of marriage.
This was a very nauseating division of the work. There
were described twelve kinds of legal marriage! one for
each manifestation of love! The justification of the
system was as follows:
"An institution should be as broad as the emotion
underlying it."
This I saw at once was one of those generalizations
not deduced from the experience of the race, but from
some man's mind — probably a Frenchman, for it read
French-like; but of course there were no Frenchmen
in Mars.
One of the reasons given for this régime (for I find
that Mars at one time had only one legal form of
marriage with several criminal forms) was that it made
all forms of love legal, thus giving all kinds of
natures the right to exercise their passions, and not
become by so doing exiles from the pales of civilization.
I do not fully understand this nonsense, for one of the
evils it aimed to do away with was old maids! In all my
life I never have heard an objection to our marriage
system from that quarter, because every one knows
that on Earth any woman who wants to marry can do
so. And for the Marsites to say that some forms of love
are criminal under monogamy, for that is what they
do say, is simply nonsense. Love never made a criminal.
Love is pure, elevating, ennobling, divine! And
as for broken hearts, which this treatise incidentally
mentioned, we all know that they are largely an
invention of the poets, and of course no change should
take place in our institutions to stop imaginary evils.
But look at the awful predicament this same philosophy
of love has placed me in! I was in love up to my
eyes, yet forbidden to speak! Tyranny? Well, I think
they did improve matters! The old way is ten thousand
times better, and I do not say this because the
new puts woman in man's place; but because it is natural
— that is it! It is natural! Woman is fitted by
Nature to be silent, while man is not!
Incidentally I found some good thoughts in this
work. For example: "How to kill love?" But this
too I think is vitiated by false theory.
"Love is an energy. To kill it, remove the
producing cause."
This is good enough, but what is to be done with
the love on hand? so to speak for that is how the
Marsites would put it.
"Direct accumulated energy toward some other
object."
This is novel! Love a kind of merchandise! If it
will not sell in one place, it will in another!
It is useless to go further into the details of this
trash. But I was in Rome, and I had to do as Rome
does. I was compelled to wait until Victoria, the
woman I loved blindly, devotedly, with a love I felt
would last through eternity, should see fit to speak.
This was the first time in my life that I knew what
real misery was.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER VII.
A MARS CURE FOR LOVE.
It will be humiliating to me to relate what
followed during the next few days. However, for truth's
sake, I do not hesitate to do so. On the next day,
toward evening, Victoria came as usual and gave me my
lesson. Everything seemed to be passing in a
commonplace way, until toward the end, when I noticed a
fixed expression of determination on her otherwise
beautiful face. I felt that there was something to
follow. It came at the conclusion of the lesson. She
closed the "yap" or book and, looking at me pointedly,
said:
"My friend, we must part."
I felt the tears start to my eyes.
"It is best. Our association can bring us nothing
but misery."
I wanted to cry out: "Why? Oh! Why? I will
worship you if you will only put up with that!"
"I will be a sister to you," she said; "but I cannot
marry you."
Life was as dark as a sunless world without a star.
My heart was dead! I could not speak!
"You have advanced far enough in the study of
Matosh to continue it without a teacher. I feel sorry for
you, yet I know that study, or any other diversion,
will dissipate your love."
I made a brave effort to hide my emotion. I was
willing to suffer death rather than let her see how
madly I loved her. I buried my heart and heaped on
it cold words, and foolish ideas. I made her feel that
she had made a mistake, that I did not love her at all!
The conversation drifted from love. Oh! the sadness
of such a murdering of passion, when the crime is
denied, when the criminal goes scot free, and afterward
is respected! We talked of everything except love,
yet I thought of nothing but love, — not of love, but of
how to bury it; how to kill it! At last she left me —
left me without good-bye or parting word, and I knew
I could never meet her again without giving way to
my feelings. The tears that came were burning hot;
my heart was like a volcano bursting forth its pent up
misery. At last I decided to leave. I thought of stealing
quietly away. If I could only leave Mars, but alas!
I could not.
At night Mars is somewhat lighter than Earth. I
went out into the double moonshine to compose my
self. I came upon Victorian. No matter how humiliating
it is to confess one's love, yet in my condition
what else could I do? He was a man, a brother; I
greeted him with a friendly sign, which is to hold the
right hand up, palm outward, for an instant only.
(The Marsites have no words of greeting, having
dispensed with that fatiguing conventionality; friends
smile, strangers pretend not to see one another).
Victorian looked at me, and I felt that confession was
useless, and it was. As yet he could not speak English
(and he never learned it, saying that one language is
enough for any one except a philologist) so we
conversed in Matosh. He said:
"My friend, I have realized in you a prediction. I
predicted what has occurred tonight. It is one more
triumph of my philosophy, for one of the tests of a
true philosophy is to foretell events."
"If you knew my association with your sister would
cause me so much misery, why did you not warn me?"
I asked, rather reproachfully.
"Because you would have suspected me of treachery;
impugned my motives; and would have said that I
was throwing obstacles in the way of your love. As
it is, you come to me now, and have confidence in me.
I knew you would come. I will help you, in fact, cure
you."
"You are a physician, then?"
"No; I am a 'kasoheksi.'"
"A philosopher?"
"No, and yes, too, for all kasoheksi are philosophers,
but probably your word "individual" should be used
as a modifyer."
"I do not understand you," said I.
"I am the highest product of Nature and also of Art," he answered.
Oh! if I were as independent as this man, I should
be happy! Independent? Ah! I craved to be a slave
to a disdainful woman! There was no independence
in my soul. Such is the tyranny of love! Victorian
left me to my thoughts a moment; then said:
"My friend, I will cure you, and, at the same time,
give you a lesson in life. You can see a good portion
of Mars and learn of her institutions, for it will be
necessary for you to travel."
My heart felt lighter; I was going some place.
Travel does assist in killing love. At home every
object reminds you of the one you love, then the pangs,
the heart ache, the memories — yes, one must travel.
" I will make but one request that is, you are to consider all my advice, and, when you go to leave Mars, I
will then have another one to make."
"Make it now!" I cried. "Cure me of this malady
and I will do any thing for you."
My enthusiasm knew no bounds. I was like a
politician during a campaign, but Victorian was silent.
He only exclaimed:
"How like a 'xasow!'"
This word means child, or little man, and evidently
was a word from his other train of thought, for Marsites,
like Americans, carry on two or three trains of
thought at once, only much more successfully than
we do.
With a look on his face, such as one has when one
hesitates in giving a child an answer which he knows
it cannot understand, he abruptly changed the conversation
and said:
"I am going on a visit, I will take you with me. Be
prepared in the morning at dawn."
That night I dreamed of Victoria. It was a pleasant
night's rest, for in the background I saw relief
beckoning me on. And I will confess I mentally
resolved that, if I ever got free from love, I would
always remain so, or know the reason why.
I was ready bright and early in the morning. Î
knew not where I was going; I only knew that I was
running away from unrequited love, more painful
than any other emotion. Victorian greeted me
cordially, and looked at me as a physician would look at
a patient; then as a teacher or father would at a child
he loved and wished to benefit. He showed me the
mechanism of our carriage. It was a fine adjustment
of machinery. Its motor power was obtained from
the utilization of the gases in water, a discovery I
made shortly before leaving Earth. Victorian smiled
when I told him that I was the only one on Earth so
far who had utilized this force, and that I feared to
make my discovery known on account of persecution.
After we had taken our places in the carriage, I asked
him our destination. He told me "Xasxest," a great
highway center where we could leave our carriage and
take a public conveyance.
The morning was beautiful. The day was a bright
one for Mars. I had many opportunities for observing
the natural scenery. All of Mars seemed to be
under cultivation, or reduced to art forms. Victorian
was engaged in thought, so I did not disturb him.
When we had been traveling for some time and the
sun was high in the heavens, we came upon a field
that was being cultivated. The work was done by
machinery. The field contained about eighty acres of
rolling land. The grain that was being planted looked
like maize. There were three machines doing the work,
while at the end of the rows were two men who would
turn them and set them going again across the field.
It took about ten minutes for the machines to cross
the field. This time, one of the men spent in reading,
the other was sketching. Each appeared happy. In
one field I heard music; in another, instead of men,
women were doing the work. I asked Victorian if this
was customary; he remarked that in Mars a woman
could do whatever kind of work she pleased; that the
present practice was a result of men and women courting
by working together; that it was nothing uncommon,
and gave satisfaction to all.
We stopped at Xasxest and put away our carriage.
The public conveyance we took looked unsafe and
uncouth. It was the first machine I had seen in Mars
that struck me with wonder. It was made of aluminum
and some white metal that I had never seen
before. It was, perhaps, half as large as our locomotives,
but altogether different. To use a homely figure, it
looked like a cigar on wheels with the point first.
After the machine came the coaches similarly shaped
but somewhat larger. Not having seen the conveyance
in motion, I had no idea of its speed. I thought
from its dead appearance that we should have to wait
several hours in order to get up steam and to get in
running order, but I was mistaken. We boarded the
coach. The interior was arranged for comfort. Nothing
was lacking to make veritable palaces of these
coaches. Like the houses, they were composed largely
of transparent material which I now discovered to be
a new metal. The seats were the most comfortable I
have ever sat upon. We had been in the coach but a
short time when, feeling a strange sensation, I glanced
out and saw that we were in motion. The speed was
incredible. I asked Victorian how fast we were going,
and he said that we could compass the planet Mars in
fifty hours! After this I gave up, patriotic as I was,
that Mars outdid Earth. As there was no satisfaction
in looking out, I thought I would amuse myself by
reading some light literature — some fiction. I spoke
to Victorian, who touched a key, and there appeared
from above, apparently by magic, a small shelf of
books. He selected two volumes, one for me and one
for himself; then, touching the key again, I noticed
the shelf replace itself at the top of the car. Handing
me one volume, he took the other one and began to
read.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER VIII.
THE CIVILIZATION OF MARS.
This book suited me to a dot. I was at home once
more. The book was half fiction and half fact or
rather law. It was a realistic novel, like one of Charles
Reade's, with the difference that it was a history of
Mars's marriage law. I will give the gist of this law
as it is so admirable: Each man shall have but one
wife; marriage shall be for life, etc. There were two
or three causes for divorce, yet neither party could
marry again. The laws as to how children should be
taken care of by parents were just. I was through the
book before I knew it, and I turned to Victorian to
inquire for the second volume. He smiled and asked:
"How do you like it?"
"My sentiments exactly," I answered. "Is this the
code of laws now in Mars?"
"Yes," he answered. "But they are never
enforced."
I thought he was joking, so I asked him why.
"Look at the title of the book."
I did so. It was: "The Old and the New."
"You have read the 'Old'; take this volume and
look it over. It is the 'New.'"
I took the volume. Without prejudice I will say a
more visionary story I never have read. Marriage
was treated as a mere convenience for human beings,
and not a holy sacrament of God. Instead of lasting
for life, it lasted only as long as agreement. Of course
there was no divorce, or all divorce and no marriage!
Children were left to the tendencies of their parents;
there was no law as to their disposal, their education.
I was more than shocked, I was pained.
There was no family in our sense of the word, and
there seemed to be no effort made to maintain one.
Instead of pleas for the sacredness of the family, all
were made for the sacredness of the liberty of the
individual. The word individual was repeated so often
that it became repulsive to me. So far as I could see,
law, in our sense of the word, had nothing whatever
to do with the present marriage system of Mars.
Marriage was an affair of honor between individual and
individual; society had nothing whatever to do with it.
Victorian, noticing my disgust, asked me how I
liked the "New."
"Like it?" I replied. "Why, it treats of the most
immoral system of marriage I have ever read of. If
this book were printed in the United States, although
the land of liberty and the home of the free, yet it
would be suppressed at once. Freedom does not mean
license to criminal propensities."
"Then the 'Old' suits you best?"
Noticing that he referred to the other volume of the
book, I answered, "Yes."
"What is your objection to the 'New?'"
I went into details. I told him that society could
not exist under such a system; that the family, the
State, and the Church would all go, and, instead of
civilization, we would have Anarchy.
"Enlightened, oriented Anarchy?"
"No, we would have the Dark Ages over again."
I had forgotten that I was on Mars, but then he knew
what I meant, for his sister had given him an outline
of the history of our race.
"Men like you," he said, "are not convinced by
facts."
I told him that facts were what I wanted;
arguments, not fancies, blind theories, or vain imaginings.
"We shall have an opportunity to test this when
you observe our civilization." He looked at me a
moment with the same expression a scientist has on his
face when during some superstitious ceremony for the
sake of propriety, then he asked: "What is Earth's
civilization a result of, how produced?"
With pride, I answered: "Civilization is a growth.
We inherit it from the past. Humanity is a continuous
whole. Civilization is a result of the fatherhood
of God and the brotherhood of man!"
This is a fair statement of the facts in the case, too,
but this man laughed at me. Then I remembered that
he belonged to a different race from mine, and
consequently had different notions. So I asked him what
Mars's civilization was a result of. He answered:
"True civilization is a work of art, based on the
science of human nature. It is all that Nature has
done for man, plus man's conscious effort for his own
improvement. It is the turning of all the forces of
Nature to human advancement; it is making human
nature, the passions, the emotions, the will, subordinate
to reason and conscience; it is the supplanting of
natural selection and sexual selection by artificial
selection, which has for its aim a perfect individual,
an ideal race. Civilization is a work of today, as
science is of today."
I asked him what he meant by art.
"Art is the application of knowledge to human
advantage."
I asked him, "What is the science of human nature?"
"The science of human nature is systematized
knowledge of the human mind, or nature; telling what
it is; its wants and conditions of development.
Civilization is a system of living that harmonizes human
nature with its surroundings. It is an organization
of living institutions that secure both order and
progress. It makes society act as a whole in its effects
upon Nature. Civilization is an equilibrium of the
statical and dynamical forces of society. It is the
highest form of life yet evolved by the World-Force."
"Visionary!" I replied. "Why, sir, the idea of making
of man a thing to be cultivated, warped in certain
directions, is obnoxious to me. It is lowering to
human nature; it is impious. Is not man a work of
God in the image of God? Then, how dare you set
yourself up to improve on the works of God independent
of his help?
He was silent. A pitying smile overspread his face,
no doubt, from compunctions of conscience aroused by
my words. It is the wise teacher who speaks when
conviction is upon the sinner. I proceeded:
"Self-taught morals are worse than none. In fact
the people who are only moral, and not" —
I stopped. I had forgotten. How could this man
be religious when Mars had had no revelation? He
saw my predicament and laughed outright, a kind of
pitying laugh, yet full of kindly feeling.
"I beg your pardon," I said. "I see I have spoken
to you as if you belonged to a growing class of people
on Earth, a class which maintains that religion is a
provisional institution to the social organism as milk-teeth are provisional organs to the animal organism,
and that religion is one of the innumerable inheritances
from our savage ancestors which civilized man
is replacing with living institutions based on the facts
of human life."
"There is nothing new in what I have said. More
than half the institutions of Earth are based on a
philosophy that repudiates revelation. What is secular
education? What is the study of Art? What is paternal
interference of Government? What is self culture?
What is philanthropy? What is science? The germs
of Mars's civilization are found in Earth's."
"'Tis false! My civilization is as much above yours
as a part is greater than the whole. Beyond doubt,
the element man is better represented in Mars's
civilization than in Earth's, but you do not know God. I
don't want to talk to you any more about this, you
exasperate me."
I was indignant, and my companion could see it.
He had trampled on my choicest belief, and it was my
duty to resent it. The conversation ended here, but
I determined to resume it again at some future time,
and, if possible, set this misguided man as upright
morally as he was superior to me physically.
After about one hour of travel, we left this public
conveyance. The rest of the journey was made in a
carriage. We stopped in front of a fine mansion and
alighted.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER IX.
MARINA, OR THE WOMAN OF THE FUTURE.
This dwelling might be called a cottage, for it was
hardly large enough to be called a mansion, yet was
beautiful enough. It was in the same circular style of
architecture that I had seen before, but was more imposing.
It was situated on a beautiful lake, as I thought, but
afterward I found that it was a channel of the ocean.
The grounds were as level as water at rest. There
was a boat-house, and what I took for another dwelling
proved to be a bath-house.
Victorian and I entered the auditorium or center
room of the cottage, and he made his presence known by
a peculiar call on a musical instrument. This instrument
was an improvement on the piano-forte. Its
music was sweeter, not so discordant, not so sharp and
chilly. The improvement was a small device that
holds the sound of each key so that the distinctness of
the notes is lost. The music sounded like a combination
of the organ and the harp, music very sweet indeed.
Victorian had been silent for some time, in fact,
since the moment I outdid him in our dispute. While
the Marsites are extraordinarily developed, yet I would
not put envy beyond them; it is human nature to
envy! When the music stopped, Victorian, instead of
looking for the entrance of some one, watched me. I
could not see why he did this, but hearing the sound,
or the manifestations of the presence of some one else,
I turned my head. Victorian spoke:
"Marina, a friend of mine from Earth on a scientific
expedition to our planet."
I thought Victoria was a grand being; she is, but
Marina is grander! I thought Victoria wonderful;
she is, but Marina is more wonderful! Victoria looked
like a young, inexperienced girl, Marina a woman the
equal of any man, of any being in the world! I knew
her to be so vastly superior to me (I will confess it
here) that I felt my soul rise as if it had wings, and
worship this truly great being. It was not love, nor
admiration, nor fear, nor wonder, nor awe, nor respect,
nor humanity, but a combination of all of these
emotions! There was nothing I so wished to do as to obey
this glorious being. Well, this all passed in a moment.
She welcomed me according to the Mars custom.
Victorian said something to her in Matosh so rapidly that
I could not understand him; and Marina, excusing
herself, stepped into a room, and we were alone.
Victorian turned to me, and asked:
"What do you think of our friend?"
"She is a wonderful woman!" I answered.
Victorian was pleased. I think this was the first
time I found myself in accord with him on any subject.
The fact is that I would find out his opinion, and then
oppose him on principle, for I never found myself
heartily in accord with him.
In a moment Marina returned, leading by the hand
a boy of about six years of age. At first Victorian
viewed the child as one would view a fine animal, then
he took it, placed it on a table by his side, looked at
its face closely, and examined its head by feeling of it
as phrenologists do. (I made a note of this as another
bone for us to pick.) Then he turned to Marina, and
asked how the child got on in its play! (What an
absurd question!) She answered: "As well as could be
desired," and mentioned two or three gymnastic feats
it could perform, and several other things it could do
which I did not understand. Victorian kissed the
child; then it became a changed being. It looked at
me somewhat as a street gamin would look at a cage
of monkeys. I conceived a dislike to this child, yet it
asked no questions, and seemed to try to repress its
curiosity.
Marina turned and entered a ground-floor reception
room, and we followed her, Victorian leading Claud,
for that was the child's name. When we had entered
the room, the child spoke for the first time; its voice
sounded like a flute in sweetness.
"You will come and play with me, won't you,
Victorian?"
"Yes, Claud, after I have spoken with your mother."
Aha! This was Victorian's child. I made bold to
ask him how long he had been married. He did not
answer me. After seating ourselves, he said:
"Marina, our friend is thoroughly unacquainted with
scientific forms of marriage. Where he came from
custom and law still hold sway."
"He is unemancipated, then?" She said this as one
speaks of something in the presence of a child that it
is not expected to understand. If Victorian had spoken
so, I should have left the room; besides Marina did not
know that I knew Matosh, and, too, this wonderful
creature's beauty made up for all the apparent rudeness
of the remark. I should also say that, being an
American, I was too courteous to take exception to
anything a lady might say; so I decided to put up with
any rudeness I might meet with, but determined to
get even with these Marsites by writing a book about
them.
"Yes, partly so, but not fully oriented," he said,
answering her question. "I should judge him to be
in the same condition as our race was just before the
Silent Revolution five hundred years ago." (A thousand
years of our time. I looked the matter up to be
certain.) "Of course, there are some differences, but
not many. Victoria thinks him fully four hundred
years behind our age."
This came near killing me.
"I read," said Marina, "Franceska's account of
Earth and its population, but have paid little attention
to it. I prefer to study the populations of Jupiter
and Neptune, and the outer planets, as they are more
advanced in civilization than we, and can teach us of
our destiny as Earth shows us our history."
"I have been talking about our scientific association
of the sexes, and it is offensive to him. Most of his
actions, if not all, are controlled by feeling. It is
evident that the people of Earth have not yet reached
their age of reason and conscience. He tells me that
the relation of the sexes is an undiscussed subject;
that while it has become popular to educate children
in some branches of life, yet the all important function
of procreation is never mentioned; that part of
the functions of the body are still believed to be unholy
and part of the body unclean, in a word, that superstition,
fear, instinct, custom, conventionality still
control the human race in its most important function,
the perpetuation of the race."
At this I ventured to speak.
"In the presence of this lady," I said, pointing to
Marina, "I will be pleased if you will not discuss
such subjects. Gentlemen in private may talk of such
matters, but such delicate ears should not be forced to
listen to such discourse."
Somehow or other this thought came into my mind; it
must have come telepathically from Victorian's: "You
are more nice than sensible. If you showed half as
much respect for truth and liberty as you do for prudish
modesty and ignorance, you would know more of
human life and come nearer to realizing perfect happiness.
You are no longer a savage to thus hide the
joys of life for fear of running to an excess in them,
or of calling down upon you a host of enemies to
contest their possession with you. There are many feelings
in the human heart stronger than animal passion
— sympathy, respect for public opinion, a desire to
reach perfection which kills everything that destroys
individuality, such as vice, dissipation, intemperance,
and it is not only reasonable, but right for you to trust
in them. Passion is not a monster to be caged by
secrecy, but a domestic animal to be trusted with
liberty and light. You have reached the age of freedom
of thought, and are ready to begin the era of freedom
of feeling — freedom in all things, that highest stage of
human development wherein reason and conscience
control in every department of life, that lofty moral
existence of mankind which the good in all ages have
dreamed of, and to which civilization is but a
stepping-stone."
Victorian spoke rapidly to Marina, and I was unable
to fully understand what he asked, but she gave her
consent. It was a proposal to relate to me the story
of their courtship. Knowing it would be novel, I was
anxious to hear it.
Victorian was the inventor of a kind of barometer
to test the atmosphere in such a way as to predict
what kind of grain the farmers could best grow. The
Marsites believe the atmosphere to be the chief cause
of the growth of plants instead of the soil. Marina
was a great musician, who had given to the Marsites
a philosophy of music, explaining its wonderful effect
on man. I do not understand it exactly. Music is
said to be a collateral development that took advantage
of an emotional language used by mankind before
speech was invented, which the primitive race employed chiefly in courtship. It was quite an ingenious
philosophy of music. In Mars every year there
is held a great congress to display wonderful
inventions, discoveries, etc. Victorian and Marina
met at one of these congresses and married. Now, I
say married, for that is what it was, yet this union
lasted only for a few years. At last Marina
dismissed the subject as if it were a joke; (that is, the
rehearsing of this story was like something one would
tell over and over again to vex some one) and began
to talk about some new work that she was doing in
the Fine Arts; while Victorian announced that he
had made protoplasm from original elements, and that.
he would give the experiment at the next congress.
He then excused himself, saying that he wished to go
and play with Claud. Victorian departed.
Marina asked me if I liked music. I told her I was
intensely fond of it. She led me to a small room
finished in wood, the first of its kind so far that I had
seen in Mars. She told me to seat myself and she
would play for me. I took a reclining chair, and as
she was behind me, I did not see her go out.
Presently, turning I saw that she was gone. I was on the
point of rising when I heard a sound as if some one
were entering the room, then silence, then the sound
again. It was like some one imitating the foot-falls
of a friend on some grand musical instrument. The
music began. I could not tell what sort of an instrument
it was. It sounded like the sea, and I don't
know what other strange sounds, in accord with the
human voice, a voice so sweet that one could think of
naught but some simple child out in a forest dell singing
to a brook, answered by the waterfall below and the
birds above. Then, I noticed that companions joined
this maid of the forest, and the scene changed to a
grove, with a great platform; and there were dancing,
merry laughter, and chattering voices, such intense
joy, such a gay and ideal life! It was all beyond the
fabrication of a dream. I saw a young prince come
out of the throng, and speak in measured language to
the maid, and point to the overhanging cloud above.
There was a hush. Then, like the wind they whirled
away, and following them was laughter, then moans.
The cloud changed into a sea. The wind blew so hard
that the waves, dashing on the shore, called from her
cottage an old woman with piping and querulous voice.
She was met by an aged king, who spoke imperiously,
but was answered with a scream that was followed by
lightning. The king struck the ground with his staff;
then the cloud began to recede. The mother sank
upon her knees; the king bent his head and wept.
And then the maid and the prince approached. The
sky was clear, and there appeared a beautiful white
ship manned by children. The prince led the maid to
the edge of the sea. Both the king and the mother
blessed them. The children's sweet voices were heard
in song; then the king, taking the mother's hand, said:
"Let us be friends." The music of oars was heard,
and the ship glided out of sight. I came to myself.
It was Marina's music.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER X.
THE GREATEST INVENTION OF MAN.
So far, I have told of things as they happened to me.
However, I have omitted some that I will now have to
refer to in a desultory manner. One thing I should
have mentioned long ago — (I did not because, as yet, I
thought I had not come upon the real custom) — is the
custom of eating. Don't understand me to say that I,
as yet, had not eaten anything, for I had; but my food
was in such an odd form that I thought it medicine
given me on account of my abnormal appearance on
Mars. But now I found my mistake. Heretofore
Victorian had supplied me with both food and drink; but
now Marina presented me with a week's supply of
food on a beautifully wrought golden salver. I took
a package; she told me that all of it was for me during
my stay at "Sen."
"It seems to me," I remarked, "that it is about time
for me to begin eating in regular form; I'm sure I
never felt better in all my life."
Marina smiled and said: "I see that Victorian has
not told you of our custom in regard to eating."
"Well, no," I said with an inquiring tone of voice.
"Will you be disappointed when I tell you that this
is the only kind of food we now use in Nih?"
I unfolded one of the packages. It was hermetically
sealed in impervious paper; I examined the substance
carefully. It was a compound of various grains mixed
with some animal product, milk or oil; besides this a
peculiar perfume was escaping from it. My first thought
was that this food was a matter of economy; then I
thought of Mars's fine soil and abundant vegetation. I
could not see why a people with plenty should dispense
with the conventional methods of eating, and take this
chemically prepared food. Without answering her
question, she could see my surprise, so she continued:
"Xasnexo is the only kind of food we have used
for several centuries. The scientist who invented it
is considered one of the greatest benefactors of the
race. It is composed, as you see, of grains, milk, oil,
several minerals, with several gases. So long as it
remains sealed, it is fresh, and it will keep for any
number of years; but as soon as opened the gases begin to
liberate themselves, and the food loses its strength."
"Is this all you eat?"
"Yes."
"Don't you eat beefsteak, mutton-chops, or pork?"
"No!" she said with horror in her voice. "The
people of Nih have not eaten animal food for several
hundred years."
I at once thought them a race of cranks, but said
nothing.
At this point she begged to be excused, saying that
she would bring me a history of food that would
explain matters better than she could. When I was left
to myself I began reading this book. I'm like all
prejudiced persons; in conversation or public
discourse my prejudices are always before me, but, as a
book is such an unpretentious opponent, it often
catches me with my safeguard down. This happened
now. While I am not fully convinced, that Xasnexo
is better than our foods; yet I wish I had transcribed
parts of this treatise. I will give what I remember of
it, for fear I forget it in the multiplicity of the things
I have to remember.
The Marsites consider food one of the chief causes
of civilization. In fact they have a maxim: "Tell me
a nation's food and I will tell you what kind of nation
it is." This is from one of their oldest poets. I will
give the stages in the history of food as nearly as I
can remember them: (1) The age of eating raw meats
and raw fruits; (2) the cultivation of grains for food;
(3) that of cooked foods; (4) the introduction of
medicinal foods, vegetarianism; (5) Xasnexo.
This compasses no less than twenty thousand years,
and gives the development of Mars from savagery to
civilization, then on to "Inagm," a phase of development
we have not yet reached, which, I confess, I do
not appreciate. Food did not accomplish all this, but
it was one of the chief factors. After reading the
book's argument for not using animal food, I decided
to be a strict vegetarian. There is no doubt as to the
barbarity of slaughtering animals for food, and if we
did not have professional butchers to do this for us, it
would soon be done away with. One argument for
the use of chemical food (for that is what Xasnexo
means when translated) is that it dispenses with
two-thirds of human labor. Now measure the import of
this remark; half of our commerce has reference to
food; half of our manufacture; half of our labor of
all kinds. All servant work is done away with; there
are no dishes to wash, nor pots — but I see this is
becoming undignified.
The greatest argument in favor of the use of
Xasnexo was that it lengthened life at least a third. This
looks plausible when we remember that death is only the
wearing out of the organs of the body by work; and
this food being so pure it requires no great expenditure
of energy to digest it. By the way, this food
necessitates about four times as much water as our food,
but water is as plentiful there as here, and the
Marsites know how to prepare it, so that it is one of the
finest of luxuries. In the first place, none but chemically
pure water is used; in the second place, it is
medicated with gases and salts. All water is prepared.
It is looked upon as barbarous to drink raw water, and
also very dangerous to the health. Without close
thought you cannot comprehend the great change in
civilization thus caused by the discovery of a perfect
food. Of course Xasnexo has its disadvantages; for
example, banquets, there are none. Eating en masse
was reluctantly given up, but the luxury of using
chemically prepared water, which also did away with
intoxicating drinks, was a fair compensation. If a
man wishes to become intoxicated in Mars now, he
takes certain kinds of gas. The effect is just as
delightful, and the headache next morning much milder,
so they say.
One half of poverty is caused by the scramble for
wealth. The love of money is but the abnormal
desire for property, which originally meant food. With
the advent of chemical food the great struggle for
existence was made unnecessary. What was the use of
ceaseless labor when a man in one year could produce
enough food to last twenty? More than half the
struggles in life are against contingencies. If we had
perfect security for a competence, instead of insecurity,
would we struggle to get more? Or is the game of life so
fascinating that it would be played just as hard without
any stakes? A greed for wealth among the Marsites is
a mark of inferiority, a disgrace. They conceal it as
one would a trace of negro blood in the United States.
It bespeaks a lack of development. And all this,
according to the Marsites, has been brought about by
the discovery of a perfect food.
It set me to thinking. Chemical food leveled all
ranks. There is no other cause that tends more to the
equality of the people. And the strangest thing is
that this food became universal without governmental
aid. The only opposition it met with was popular
prejudice and interested persons. But it was found
that, while these men opposed the food, they
themselves used it! This was the death blow to their cause.
But I see that I have not told how Xasnexo is
manufactured and distributed. At the capital of each guild
there is situated a university of scientists. They are
a kind of priesthood devoted to the interests of the
race. I will speak further of these men at another
time. Each citizen takes whatever he produces to this
capital and gets in return this chemical food. There
are sub-markets throughout the state and sub-stores.
Checks are also issued that call for so much food;
these checks are used as money — in fact, the only
money the Marsites have that I saw.
Almost without inconvenience one can carry a week's
rations. The food is not bulky, one meal being two
inches square by one inch thick. Water can be had
anywhere for the asking. It, too, is a great civilizer.
All vows, wishes, and pledges are made over a glass
of water. It is often used as a means of introduction.
If a man wishes to show his humanity, he asks his
friends to drink with him. This is a custom
transferred from eating. According to the traditions of the
Marsites, man at one time ate his food by fighting for
it when he ate it, as carniverous animals do. In fact
all the chief functions of our individual life during
the early history of the race were but gauntlets thrown
down to watching rivals, and from this we derive
some of our strange customs. This is the philosophy
of modesty. It is why woman is so much more secretive
in her nature than man. It is why so many important
functions of life are done in secret. It also shows
only too well the stage of civilization on Earth. And,
too, there grew up another system of customs to show
one's friendship for companions, such as eating in
peace with them. But even after this in business
transactions men were as savage as they once were in
other matters; and today on Earth you cannot know a
man fully until you have had money dealings with
him. The Marsites have various stories as to how
men show their animal origin: such as clutching that
which they desire; and also the using of guttural
tones in speaking of property that is in danger of being
lost. It is fairly amusing what these Marsites have to
say about themselves.
At this time, hearing a loud wave of street music, I
concluded to lay aside my book for subsequent reading,
and see what was going on. I am still like the
small boy, susceptible to street music; and, by the
way, the Marsites explain this on the ground that such
music calls up ancestral emotions of the time when
great triumphal marches were made in the street. But
I soon found that this was not street music, but
something much sweeter.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XI.
AMUSEMENT IN MARS, WITH A PHILOSOPHY OF PLAY.
I have said that Marina's palace was situated near a
lake or channel of the sea, and that close by on the
shore was another building. The music I heard came
from this building, so I made my way toward it. I
heard laughter and cries which seemed to be a part of
the music, also another sound like the splashing of
water. The mystery was made clear when I came
upon the scene. The house was a bath-house, and the
laughter came from the bathers. They bathed to
music as we dance to music. And there was one other
strange thing: the music was purely mechanical. This
was a great wonder to me, for I have always expected
such music to be metallic and soulless, without expression;
but it was not. It was about as loud as a full
orchestra, and proceeded from a cylindrical machine
inclosed in a frame of sounding boards. It appeared
to be a compound instrument, yet it must have been
of simple construction, for it needed no human agency
to run it.
I turned to the bathers. They were of both sexes,
from the age of eight to thirty. All wore closely-fitting
bathing suits of delicate colors. The children
and the grown people bathed apart. It seemed that
the game they were playing could not be engaged in
by the little fellows as successfully as by the grown
persons. I doubt if I am able to explain this game;
let any person try to explain our dancing figures, and
if he does not understand how to go through them, he
will make a failure. Dancing has to be watched
awhile before any method can be seen in it. It was so
with this game.
All the movements were performed by swimming,
yet the lines were formed in shallow water, so that
the bathers could rest on the bottom. The figure the
bathers formed was that of a square. It seemed that
each bather had one or more counterparts. When the
counterpart made a certain movement, it was a cue for
his double to make a movement which in turn served
as a cue to some one else. From this you can see that
nearly all the bathers were moving at once; but the
ease, the regularity, the method of this general movement
was marvelously harmonious.
I watched the bathers, for perhaps fifteen minutes,
when I discovered a further stage in the game. By
some means the two best swimmers were picked out
to vie with each other, while the other swimmers were
spectators. These champions were both young women,
yet two athletic young fellows attempted to be the
victors. The young women in question were dressed in
tightly-fitting suits of sky-blue and sea-green. Their
motions were more graceful than those of any fish. It
seemed that this couple had not only to make quite a
long run of movements, but some of them had to be
made through signals from the bathers. Being an
American, I took sides at once. I was willing to stake
all my spare change on the nymph in the sea-green
costume. She had light hair, and reminded me very
much of some one whom I had seen. The music
changed, and the evolutions began. I have read of
mermaids, have seen one or two that purported to be
stuffed ones, but I am sure no mermaid could have
executed more lovely movements than did these two
young women. My favorite seemed to be hampered
from some cause. For one moment she appeared to
give up, then the next, she gracefully turned in the
water, loosened the folds of her hair, and was in the
race again with renewed effort. Her action had the
same effect upon the sport as the dropping of a note
has in a piece of music. Her grace was now more
noticeable, and her opponent seemed to be at a
disadvantage. This in fact was very apparent, for my favorite
seemed to excel her in all her movements. The
last few evolutions were very exciting, and the rest
of the bathers seemed to grow ten times more
interested. The last movement was made, the music
stopped, and there was a buzz of congratulations. My
favorite was victorious.
One of the bathers now leaped from the water,
approached the music house, and presently a new tune
was heard. A piece of music so dreamlike that one
would want to lie on the water and drift away
anywhere! I had to sit down. There was no resisting
its influence. Its effect upon the bathers was wonderful.
They lay about in groups like fishes sunning
themselves. I cast my eye at the children's pool, and
saw that a great many of them had fallen asleep,
having under them small air-pillows attached to
a common line. They were cradled by the waves.
This lasted for perhaps half an hour; I can't tell, for
I really believe I fell asleep. But the music soon
changed and the bathers began to leave.
My friend Victorian was one of the bathers, and
as soon as he had dressed himself, he went to the
children's pool and got Claud. I intended to follow and
catch up with them, but was so charmed with the
picture of the bathers leaving the water that I was lost in
admiration. I'm only human. There were figures
before me that surpassed in beauty the Venus of Milo.
There were forms that would have put Michael
Angelo's heroes to shame. How often no doubt have you
wished to be able to tell some painter how to paint the
face of an absent friend. I wish I could describe the
perfection of this picture. I despair. It must be left
to the imagination.
I made haste to find Victorian and Claud. They had
taken across the grounds, and were ensconced in a
kind of summer-house. As I approached them, I could
hear their conversation; and as I discovered that it
was about me, despite the saying, "Listeners never
hear any good of themselves," I could not resist the
temptation to listen a moment; this was lengthened
indefinitely. The eaves-dropper's charm is so real that
none of us can break it when once indulged in. I
heard Claud ask:
"Who is this 'hagimeti'"?
He meant me.
"He is from the planet Earth."
"He is so strange; he does not look like us; but
like the pictures found in old books."
"What books?"
"Major's history."
"Let me see," said Victorian, pondering for awhile.
"Yes; you are right. Major wrote five hundred years
ago. Yes, Nih's people then were in this hagimeti
condition."
"I would like to play with him; won't you let me?"
"Well, I never thought of it, but I guess you would
be a much more suitable companion for him than I.
Man being an epitome of the race, you, a child, are
about as much developed as this stranger. Yes, you
may amuse yourself with him."
Here of course was the place for me to make myself
known, which I did, by hemming.
The little fellow turned to me and said:
"I knew you were there. You are just like my "wat"
(dog). My wat always wants to play at war games.
I like it sometimes."
Eaves-dropping was a war game. The little fellow
took hold of my arm and said:
"Promise not to be in earnest and we will go play
'Di.'"
Now, I have always been fond of children, and the
only reasons I was not a married man at that time
were prudential ones, so I readily acceded to this little
fellow's wish. He bade his father good-bye with a
quick little hug, then ran and jumped on my back;
and somehow he made me go wherever he desired.
Was that a war-game? It was lots of fun to him.
Well, this was the first time I had ever played it, and
I never like anything till I get used to it. Claud
informed me that when I got used to war-games I would
like them very much. I was directed to a grove of
beautiful trees, where all the children that had been
in swimming were playing. I was ridden up and
Claud dismounted. He hailed the children with a loud
acclamation, and pointed at me. At once several ran
and jumped upon me. Well, too much of a good thing
is too much, and I said so; but they would not desist.
I slung one or two of them away rather roughly; then
they set up a howl: "Maxesihig, maxesihig! He
won't be ridden!"
In less than a trice I was overpowered, for the whole
"society" jumped upon me at once. In this game the
aggressors are called "society," while the victims are
called "martyrs." Then followed one of the most
dramatic, most elaborate of trials. I felt my doom
was settled; yet to satisfy the game this trial had to
be gone through with. They were all anxious for
the climax. Heaven only knows what it would have
been, but for the arrival of Victorian, who scattered
the children as a loud sound scatters mice, and I
was free.
He asked me how I liked the game. I told him that,
I had never played it before. Then he remarked:
"May be this is your first appearance in the chief role,
but you have played the part of one of the children?"
I told him that I did not remember to have done so.
"This play is a burlesque of our life as it was five
hundred years ago. These children are doing today
what men did then, only the children are in fun while
the men were in earnest. All play is but the reproduction
of past life in mimicry."
"Well, this is an interesting philosophy of play; but
I want you to warn these children that from now on I
am not to take part in their games."
Victorian promised, and handing me a book, which
gave an outline of the history of Mars, he left me.
The children were off in another part of the grove
playing by themselves.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XII.
AN OUTLINE OF THE HISTORY OF MARS.
By this time, as you may readily divine, I was deeply
interested in everything that pertained to Mars. I do
not say that I was convinced that Mars's institutions
were better than Earth's, for I want you to understand
that I am no "rat," that I stand by my country and by
my religion. I have always tried to do my duty, and
I want you to understand that I am not so weak as to
change my beliefs at my time of life. I prize
consistency above everything else.
I opened this book that Victorian had given me. It
was a child's history of Mars from remote times.
It evidently had been written many years, for it was
in the old style of printing. This was a gentle hint at
my inability to fully appreciate the advanced stage of
life now in Mars. These people have no hesitancy on
account of manners or taste in telling one the truth.
They go on the supposition that the truth, though
sometimes painful, is in the end the greatest charity.
I determined to give them a sample of my forebearance
by not resenting this slight. However, to be
honest, I will confess I but waited for a subsequent
occasion. Enough of these personalities; yet I think
you will agree with me when I say that in journals
the most interesting parts are those the authors did
not intend to write.
Looking over the table of contents of this book, I saw
that history was divided into cycles or ages. There
were nine of these ages: The Arboreal, the Predatory,
the Pastoral, the Agricultural, the Commercial,
the Ecclesiastical, the Governmental, the Business, and
the Scientific. I found no objection to this outline. It
looked very philosophical, that is, if the Marsites are
anything like the Terrenites, as the people of Earth
are called.
A synopsis of each book was given. In the Arboreal
age men lived in trees, were weak in resources, and
deficient in intellect. Man was a toolless animal. If
the race were placed in the same condition today, on
account of the unproductiveness of Nature, it would
become extinct. In all probability if Darwin were in
Mars, he would find in arboreal man his missing link.
It was in this age that man invented language. The
account given in this book of the origin of speech is
characteristic of Mars. The first language was
composed of grunts and growls, exclamations, cries, and
laughter — all more or less but modified forms of
breathing under various stimuli, such as anger, joy,
fear, and contentment. Take for example the verb,
"go," which, strange to say, is the same in both
English and Matosh. Originally it was but the vowel "o,"
pronounced as a gutteral sound which made it "g-g-o-o."
Now, imagine a ferocious arboreal man coming toward
you, roaring in rage, "G-g-o-o!" Your actions would
put a meaning in the word; in other words, you would
go. Space forbids my giving other examples to illustrate
this theory of the origin of languages, a theory
which, though ludicrous, should not be rejected as
unscientific. Ridicule is not a test of truth, but is the
touchstone of error.
The Predatory age, which followed, was characterized
by man's great conflict with Nature. He began
the subjection of the Earth. From necessity he was
forced to become a gregarious animal, which is the
initial cause of the greatness of man over all other
animals. Without that unconscious and unpremeditated
benefit which man receives from man, which with us
is recognized only in political economy, but is found
in every department of life, man would have always
remained an animal, and never become the glorious
being he is. But now man no longer needs these forms
that have been developed to keep him from reverting
to his original state of liberty. He is ready now to
come forth from this chrysalis, realizing fully in
himself in miniature all that society realizes in itself.
The race was once one man. To-day man is one race.
Yet he has been so schooled that he voluntarily
becomes a unit in the great social organism which is the
highest manifestation of life through the World Force.
Society cannot exist in its present form if the
individual is in the least sacrificed to it. But I see I am
anticipating. You should also bear in mind that I am
writing about Mars.
The Pastoral age was the golden age of the past, the
age in which most of our institutions took their rise; then
it was that man acquired that roving disposition which
has caused his spread over the planet. All our common
tools were invented — the boat from the floating
tree, the wagon from the rolling log, the bow and arrow
from the elasticity of the limbs of trees, seen when
we let loose of them and they spring back. The first
form of the bow was that of the small boy's
pea-shooter (man is an epitome of the race). Then,
combining the elasticity of the thong with that of wood,
the bow and arrow was produced. This struck me as
being somewhat far fetched, but a glance at the title
of the history, "A Child's History of Mars," convinced
me it was not written to be taken too seriously.
The Agricultural age was characterized by the
domestication of animals. The first domestic animal
was the dog. It followed man from place to place,
living off his leavings. It was a kind of parasite of man,
which man soon learned to utilize in catching game.
Both the horse and cow at first were hunted for food.
But if all the game caught was slaughtered at once in
a warm climate, as the whole planet then was, it would
spoil. So man devised the plan of keeping it alive,
especially the young, which were of little trouble.
Then when he would move from place to place he was
compelled to take it with him. Nothing was more
natural than for man, in addition to making these
beasts carry their own bonds, to make them also carry
his other property. How the Marsites know all this is
more than I can say, for this book gives no authorities.
These animals had to be fed, and man soon found that
if they were kept in any great numbers their food must
be produced artificially. So he set the ox to produce
its own food, which in times of famine he himself
learned to eat. He also made these beasts produce all
the vegetables he was fond of. However, most of our
vegetables are of recent origin, as witness the use of
the tomato.
The Commercial age was marked by voyages and
adventure. This was the age in which most of the
petty home instincts were crushed, and the noble and
warlike instincts developed. Man's inhumanity to
man began. Having partly subdued Nature, he began
the great conflict which will never end until he
subdues himself, until he completes the cycle of
development to be effected by the schooling of the social
organism, until the civilized man will have regained his
pristine liberty; a liberty which will be the last factor
to make man perfectly civilized, to make man a
perfectly autonomous being.
The Ecclesiastical age was characterized by the rise
of the priesthood. I read this entire chapter, and since
then I have never seen the word priest unless it called
up the image of a devil in human shape. It appears
that under this class the entire civilization of Mars
reverted to the predatory stage, and but for internal
corruption of the priesthood itself the entire race would
have been educated into absolute slavery. Nothing
like this has ever occurred on Earth that I know of, yet
I have not read closely the history of Egypt and Asia.
You will have some idea of the perversions of this
class when I tell you that knowledge, which we of Earth
now claim to be the great civilizer, was claimed by this
body of men to be the cause of the downfall of the race.
Ignorance was worshiped. Fear and superstition
were the greatest of virtues. I have read of great
tragedies, but of all tragedies never did I find one so
sad, so sublimely pitiful, as this one. God forbid that
Earth ever be cursed with such a calamity.
Then followed the governmental age, the age in
which Government was supposed to be able to do
everything, from the making of good citizens to the
making of good weather. This to the Marsites is
their ridiculous age, but I will say that, whatever may
be its virtue, ridicule is no test of truth. This age
was full of law, which for its completeness gained my
highest admiration. There was scarcely an action in
life that was not hedged in by law; and it is related as
an actual fact that one of the states had five hundred
volumes of statutes. I did not read the entire chapter,
but it appears that their conception of law is radically
different from ours. Law with us must be obeyed.
There is no way of evading it; but with them it was
altogether different. Sometimes fully one-half of the
people did all in their power to thwart the execution
of the law; and again, even if the law breakers were
greatly in the minority, they, for a consideration, could
hire some one of the very ablest of the other party to
help them to break the law. I think that, even if
admirable, most of this law was mere form, and but
for common sense and fellow feeling there would have
been one continual bedlam. The Marsites looked upon
the evasion of the law in a joking kind of way, and
whole classes of the people used it as a means of
diversion and of profit.
The Business age followed hard upon this; in fact,
they were partly contemporaneous. In this age, the
object of every one was wealth. Art, knowledge, religion,
morals, science — all were neglected for this one
acquisition. Everything was measured by wealth. Just
think how absurd this is to us of Earth! We prize
nothing so much as virtue, goodness, friendship, love,
charity, religion, philanthropy. Men spend their lives
in doing good without hope of recompense. And these
Marsites think this age of wealth ahead of anything
we have reached! How prejudiced are we in regard
to what is dear to us! In this Business age the scramble
for wealth raised a powerful aristocracy, greater
than any of the past. There was no sympathy whatever
between the rich and the poor. The greatest virtue
of the upper classes was hard-heartedness. The
condition of the poor was absolute, cringing, fawning
slavery. This age lasted for a long time, and despite
its despicableness, Mars's progress in the useful arts.
was phenomenal. At this time most of her great
inventions were made; but existing with this subjection
of nature, in over one-half of the population, was the
most absolute misery ever seen on the planet. But
there came a change. The class of men who had been
making mechanical inventions turned their attention
to the amelioration of the ills of the race. This chemical
food that I have mentioned was invented, and
other inventions which I shall describe in other chapters
were made. The love of wealth was undermined,
and there resulted the Scientific and last age of this
history.
I can only state the principle of this age, for, as yet,
its history is unwritten, at least it is not given in this
volume. Its theory is to apply the principles of
science to human nature. The Marsites' theory of the
destiny of man is really inferior to ours. They look
at man as nothing but an animal crowning a series
which is in no way the object of the destiny of the
Earth (I mean Mars), or of the solar system. They
teach that the purpose of the solar system is a cosmic
one; that Earth and Mars and all the planets have an
astronomical function to perform, a cycle to go
through, and in going through this cycle the conditions
become such that animal life can be developed;
that with still further change in conditions, the animal
life changes so that man is developed; that man
at no time can claim any special prerogative above that
of an ordinary animal, except superior development.
Now, in time, the conditions may change so that
cosmic development may not be in a line with human
progress. If so, then the Marsites teach that it is man's
duty to apply Science and Art to his own development.
They teach that all the institutions of the past were
attempts to do this; but as the institutions were based
on superstition and ignorance, and not on knowledge,
of course, they failed; still the same or similar
institutions based on the science of human nature, will
cause the desired development. This looks plausible,
and as they are without divine revelation, of course, it
is the best they can do. I am glad that they have had
the ingenuity to work out their own destiny so well,
and I confess that what I have seen of their civilization
is, at least, on a par with ours. Of course, I would
not confess this in a discussion, but when not disputing
one may be candid as well as not.
At the close of their Business age, these scientists,
being the only well qualified men to run for office, took
to politics, and, if this history be accurate, the race's
progress from that on was phenomenal. Then began
the reign of reason and conscience. There is one
account given of a judge deciding a case in opposition
to the laws of the land because they were not reasonable.
I have heard of laws being unjust, but none that
could not be backed by reason. And, too, there is an
account of a trial wherein a criminal was tried and not
a law consulted! These people settle public matters
by the fickle light of conscience, human nature, and
man's conception of justice. I think it all an illustration
of the fact that often men are better than their
methods. The idea of leaving any thing to human
nature in its depraved state! In my opinion, without
law, there can be no stable civilization. Of course,
there must be some incentives to noble actions on
Mars other than what I have yet found — possibly great
rewards for good behavior? I was in a quandary. I
noticed Victorian coming toward me, so I determined
to ask an explanation of several phases of this history,
especially of the Scientific age, which was very
unsatisfactory to me as presented in this history.
[To be continued.]
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from Twentieth Century
A Weekly Radical Magazine,
Vol 08, no 02 (1892-jan-14), pp08~11
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XIII.
SCIENTIFIC CIVILIZATION.
"You are just the man I want to see," I said, greeting
Victorian by elevating my hand à la Marsile.
"What now? More of our barbarisms?"
"Well, no, not barbarisms, but only an obscurity in
this book."
I handed it to him. "I find this book a bad thing to
question, yet a good thing to impart knowledge
unsolicited."
"No wonder the book is deficient. It is a child's
book, and has been written for over two hundred years.
What puzzles you?"
"Your explanation of the book's age is sufficient.
Of course, you do not now hold the theory of human
development here set forth?"
"Well, no; we have elaborated it into a systematic
philosophy. History with us is now coördinate with
psychology. The future can be predicted with
remarkable exactness, and the past is fully understood.
As on your planet a scientist can take the tooth of an
extinct animal, and from it alone classify the animal,
so our historians, or we call them sociologists, can take
a fact and tell the age in which it happened, tell its
concomitant facts, its civilization."
"Man then is a being of circumstance,
A brother to the insensible rock,
And to the sluggish clod?"
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"Yes."
"Are his actions the result of antecedent causes as
much as theirs?"
"Quite so."
"You believe in Fate, Necessity?"
He began to laugh.
"Pardon me," he said, "but I have read somewhere
of a scene similar to this. I believed it an exaggeration,
and now finding it true, it is amusing."
I thought he was trying to back out of this
metaphysical discussion. I was determined to prevent it
if possible for I am a subtle metaphysician, having
had considerable practice in such capacity arguing
with a skeptical attendant of our observatory at
Bankok.
"I forgive you; for, despite your apparent honesty,
I see that you think ridicule a test of truth."
"No, I do not; but I find that truth can always
stand the test of ridicule, error never. However, my
view of things is so radically different from yours that
there is no common ground for discussion. We had
better let the matter drop. I will make clear the
obscurity you speak of, and, at some subsequent time, I
will discuss metaphysics with you."
"Very well. I challenge you for a discussion of
Free Will and Necessity. The discussion to take
place before as large an assembly as you may select,
but I would like to have some time to brush up my
points."
"You can have all the time you desire," he said,
laughing.
"Thanks. Now, as you say this book is two hundred
years old, I wish you would tell me how the Scientific
age was inaugurated, and how it is still maintained?"
"I will tell you on one condition."
"Name it."
"That you will impart all I tell you, and that which
you may learn about us, to the people of Earth."
I agreed, and this is one of the reasons why you are
now reading this journal, for I always keep my word
when I can.
"As you have read this history I will not go beyond
the Business age. In that age you noticed the rise of
a class of scientists chiefly engaged in mechanical
inventions."
"Yes."
"Please do nothing but listen. Your habit of encouraging me by such breaks as, 'So, so,' and 'Yes,'
disturb the imperceptible influences of thought."
"Very well, go on," said I, but I thought he was very
particular. He paused a moment, in fact, till I was in
a good humor, then continued:
"These inventors turned their attention to the
improvement of stock with remarkable results. What
ever they wished to do with animals they did. They
got complete control of the conditions of sex. That is
why almost all the animals you see on Mars are of the
female sex. It is also why you see no useless animals
here as are found on Earth. I presume our animal
population has been reduced seventy-five per cent
since the scientists acquired this knowledge. I need
not tell you that this same knowledge was applied to
man. This was the greatest revolution that has ever
occurred in our history. The greatest problem,
perhaps, that has confronted the race" —
"Labor and capital," I guessed.
"Was solved. No, not that, but the population question.
Man's own procreation was placed under human
control, and, what formerly was a work of chance, was
now regulated by scientific knowledge. No one could
have predicted the result. Life was lengthened. The
health, strength, beauty and mind, the stock of man,
was improved wonderfully. Happiness was the race's
normal condition. Man became the arbiter of his own
destiny. The major part of the problem of life, man,
was understood, all man had to do was to bring the
rest of life, his conditions, under his control. This
achievement has since been accomplished. Man has
reached the acme of human development — perfect
autonomy. But this was not all accomplished at once.
To indicate how it came about I will state a few facts.
In two generations the population of Mars decreased
one half."
"What! Do you call that a glorious achievement!"
I exclaimed. I really wished to disturb his thought
by this interruption. The skillful disputant is one
who, when he cannot answer an opponent, confuses
his thought with irrelevant remarks so he can ridicule
it.
"Certainly," he answered, seeming to understand
the purpose of my remark. "Before this the number
of persons surviving in life was regulated by the struggle
for existence. This struggle was counteracted.
Fewer children were born, but these few all lived.
You never hear of a child dying now, except by accident."
"And so this is how you solved the social problem?"
"Yes;" he answered, in a doubtful tone of voice.
As he would not say anything that I could reply to,
I concluded to put into this "Yes" a statement that I
could answer. So I said:
"I see you inaugurated Nationalism. Everything
was placed in the hands of Government, production,
distribution, and consumption. The individual was
instructed how to live, how to marry, how to treat his
fellow man, how to look at life, how to think, how to
speak, how to sleep, what kind of clothes to wear — ha,
ha, ha!" I burst out laughing. "We have tried sumptuary laws under some of the kings of Earth; I don't
know but laissezfaire is preferabale."
I could see a look of determination on his face such
as a father has on his when he has decided to make a
child understand him if it takes him all day. But, as
he did not speak, I continued:
"You Marsites pretend to be so wise, don't you know
that conflict is inevitable in life, that when you quarrel
with competition you quarrel with the very
principle
on which life itself is based? There is a ceaseless
struggle among all the atoms of inorganic nature
to combine and combine one with another. In vegetable
life the same struggle is continued. Each plant,
while it conquers all inorganic compounds, antagonizes
all of its kind. The same conflict is seen among
animals. There is an unending fight between animal and
animal, and this very conflict is the formal cause of
animal development — Nature's method of creation.
The same strife is seen among men. It is competition.
It is inevitable. There is no remedy for it but the
grace of God."
I paused. I could see he was nonplussed, but whether
it was because he could not answer my argument, or
because he thought it useless, I am unable to state.
"What you state is partly true," he said. "But you
do not know one thing: the same World Force that
causes all this striving in Nature is so powerful in
man when he reaches autonomy that he can control it
in all the other departments of life. In other words,
when man reaches the acme of human development, autonomy,
he becomes a finite god. A system of scientific
morals, controlled and perfected by social art,
enables the individual to overcome, in his own
individual life, this innate conflict in Nature. In society
we did not do away with competition by the introduction
of State-controlled coöperation, but by lowering
the number of individual competitors so that coöperation
followed as a natural result. The solution of this
problem solved other problems. Love was reclaimed
from poetry, and reduced to a science. Woman was
made the equal of man" —
"She is so now on Earth!" I exclaimed.
His voice became decisive. It seemed to say of
itself, "I will make you understand this point whether
you wish to or not," and as it was about women I let
him proceed.
"You deceive yourself. The position of woman on
Earth today is the shame of that planet. Every kindness
that man shows her seems to be done with no
other purpose than afterward to taunt her with it.
She is little better than a tool, yet is a being in every
respect more refined than man. She is subjected
through inherited oppression which has become
organized in her very nature; through superstition that
appeals to her noble love of duty, after teaching her a
false standard; through fear that appeals to her
delicate physical organization; through customs
man-made and barbarous; through public opinion that
makes woman stoop to indignities more galling than
the punishment that society inflicts upon its criminal
classes; through laws that are incrustations of a dead
past, hard, merciless, inexorable; through morals that
miss her nature as completely as man misses right in all
his senseless actions. From all these causes, and many
more, woman is reduced to respectable slavery, and as
a result is treated with contempt, treated as an underling,
as an inferior. But even on Earth, through the
atmosphere of love, woman sometimes shows man the
race's better qualities, what she could be but for these
barbarous relics of the past."
"Barbarous relics of the past! What do you mean
by calling these safeguards of civilization such names?"
"Man is a reasoning animal, is he not?
"Well, yes."
"In all the affairs of life, which cannot be touched
by law and custom, you allow him to guide himself by
his reason and conscience, do you not?"
"Yes."
"Then why not let these two faculties of the mind,
reason and conscience, regulate his whole life? But I
will leave you to think of this. As I was saying, all the
principles of science were applied to the study of human
life. The heart and mind were found to be stored with
the laws of their own development. They were found
to be the true guides to life. Human nature became the
one great study. it was reduced to a science. Men
made confessions in prose that our poets before dared
not make in poetry. We rid ourselves of more useless
forms in one year then than we did before in a
century. Reason was king and right was law. The function
of the sexes was recognized and lived up to as a
natural law. progress was as inevitable as the fall of
an unsupported body."
"Now, hold on! Do you mean to say that you
abolished law, religion, custom, and fashion in one
day — just left the race to the dictates of reason and
right?"
"Abolished law? No, every law that Mars has ever
had is still on her statute books — only they have fallen
into disuse. We abolished nothing, but supplanted
law with reason and conscience, government with
social art, religion with the true philosophy of life
and a scientific system of morals, custom with liberty,
fashion with the true principles of art. In many cases
we retain the forms inherited from the past, but have
put into each of them the truth that rightfully
belongs there."
"Oh! I see you keep these old forms as a kind of
outline of the past, and, should you come to a crisis in
development, they could serve you as the cast off
crutches of a former crippled age."
He smiled at this.
"Well, sir," I said, "I admire your system, which
looks plausible enough, but it would prove a failure on
Earth. Socialism failed there, and it is just as
plausible."
"Socialism failed here also."
"It did? I'll just make a note of that."
Socialism failed because it began at the wrong place,
or rather because it could not begin. Today, if we
wished it, we could have it, because we are
sufficiently developed to agree to any form of society,
no matter how artificial. The great mistake that
Socialists made was to begin on the whole instead
of the parts. The object of all animal and plant
development is the perfect individual, which is reached
only in man. 'Tis true, man can only reach perfect
individuality by coöperation, but it must be artistic —
that is, it must aim at the development of the
individual exclusively. Fish can reach a higher degree of
individuality by living in shoals, wolves in droves,
birds in bevies, men in society; because each
individual helps its species without injuring itself, and
thus betters its medium for individual development.
But when some class claims to be society, and inaugurates
a system of coöperation, for the avowed good of
society, it always crushes individuality and retards
society as a whole.
"When we reached that stage of development in
social life in which services were done without thought
of compensation, as they were done in family life and
in church life, when love became the medium of
human intercourse, then the coöperation of man and man
became artistic. The slow discipline produced by
natural coöperation, increased by individual culture
through scientific morals and social art, brought about
this desired end.
"The only way to perfect society is to perfect the
individual. I believe this is the central truth of your
Christian religion."
You have no idea how elated I was at this, for, even
on Earth, I have heard Christianity scoffed at so much,
that I had begun to believe that it had not one good
feature.
"When the true system of philosophy and a scientific
system of morals were elaborated by our scientists,
then every man and woman who wanted to do so
could apply the principles of scientific development to
themselves without coöperation from any one. They
all did as they pleased; but it was found that the
scientific class got on the best in life, and so, in less
than two generations, we were a race of scientists, and
life began to be worth the living. We have no poverty,
no criminals, no disease, no misery, no discontent.
People live their days out in peace and happiness
Every person is an individual, society is an aggregate
held together by natural laws, and regulated by an
art unknown to Earth which takes the place of
Government."
"This may work on Mars, but on Earth it would
prove a most disastrous failure."
"How do you know? Have you tried it?"
"No, but deductively I know it would, for man is a
fallen being with a depraved nature, and the more he
tries to develop it the worse it becomes."
"To what extent is man's nature depraved?"
"Completely."
"Then you can't trust human nature at all? If man
had no rules in regard to eating, he would soon kill
himself? He never knows when to begin, when to
stop, what to eat" —
"Well, in regard to food, I must confess that he can
take care of himself; but not so in regard to drink,
for, if left to himself, he would soon go to excess."
"There was a time in the history of your own race
when the same was thought of eating. Come, now, if
you had the privilege to drink any amount of any kind
of beverage, would you become a drunkard?"
"No, of course not."
"Then the law in regard to drink applies only to
other people. I venture to say, that fully nine people
out of every ten feel just as you do, and if you
Terranites were as free to drink as to eat, you would have
no more drunkenness than formerly. All of man's
desires are alike; apparently they look as if they would
ruin the race if not regulated by external control, but
this is only one of Nature's paradoxes. Man has two
inexorable guides to assist him: Pleasure and Pain,
and, should the people of Earth today be stripped of
all their multitudinous forms, these two monitors,
controlled by reason and conscience, would suffice to save
them. Instead of human Nature being fallen, all life
goes to show that it is risen. Some of your myths
have done you great harm in this regard. But, even
on your planet, I see signs of progress. The great
respect you have for reason, though you seldom follow
her dictates, and your admirable reverence for
conscience, will yet emancipate you."
"I see," said I more or less impatiently, "our
conversation has not had that continuity of thought it
should have; so I wish to go over the ground again
and ask you a few questions which I desire you to
answer point-blank. First, what is the initial step to
this autonomy you speak of?"
"You need but two things to bring
your race to our
scientific age: A true system of Philosophy, and a
complete system of Education."
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XIV.
THE TRUE PHILOSOPHY OF SOCIAL REFORM.
"Explain yourself!" I exclaimed.
"No," he replied, "you Terrenites are a strange
people; one can convince you best with a book. You love
victory so much that your discussions are not searches
after truth, but efforts for supremacy; so I will take
you into Marina's library, and leave you to solve this
problem by yourself."
With this he started for the mansion, I following
him.
There is one thing about this man I did not like; he
always talked to me as if I were a child. Such
arrogance is not pleasing, but I noticed a slight abatement
of it from our first meeting. He put me in mind of
some of the great men of Earth. They talk as if we
people knew nothing. Now, this is a serious mistake,
for often a laboring man is as well informed as a
statesman, and, for that matter better informed,
for he is unbiased by ambition. I will call this
tendency to consider common people as inferiors the
great man's vice, and I must confess that my friend
Victorian had it to an alarming degree.
This library was a collection of books worthy of that
name. There is not much difference between the make
of the books of Mars and those of Earth. They are
uniform in size and all have flexible bindings. The
paper is heavy, yet the books are so small that they
are light. Most books of recent publication can be
read through within two hours. Every book seems
to be a sequel to all the books on that subject that
have gone before, often only a commentary. One of
the Marsites told me that with ease one could read all
the books of Mars, that are necessary to a complete
understanding of the past, in five years; but then all
the Marsites are prodigious readers.
The newspapers are printed in book form, and are
preserved and edited every year as history. They are
considered valuable literature, and the man who can
first organize their facts into philosophy receives
great honor. What is considered news in Mars is of
little importance here. Ten per cent of the news is
devoted to discovery; ten per cent to experimentation
and invention; government receives but five per cent;
education twenty per cent; philosophy (which includes
religion) twenty per cent; and so on, even fine art
receives ten per cent. What we call news is almost
excluded from these daily books, for that is what they
are.
This library of Marina was the grandest I had ever
seen. Books, books, books! One could only wish to
rest here for an age and read, and read books on just
the topics one wants to read about, not books that
attempt to talk about one thing, and talk about another,
kind of half-hearted satires. All these books spoke
out right or wrong. Of course I am compelled to say
that most of them are wrong, because they antagonize
my philosophy.
The room was arranged for reading purposes. Like
all the houses, this one was devoid of windows, but
made of transparent material. This building had
among its other advantages perfect ventilation, one of
the most difficult things to realize in the construction
of a building. I regret that I did not make a minute
sketch of how these buildings were constructed, for I
am sure if they were once introduced on Earth that
they would soon become the style.
This library could be darkened from any side
according to the time of day that you wished to read, so
that you could always have the light behind you. I
never saw people handle light to better advantage
than the Marsites. And what is really admirable
every person is his own servant. There is no such a
thing as one person being hired by another. If one
person does work for another, it is always done for
friendship. Their national life is somewhat like our
family life, only still more harmoniously regulated by
amity. Every person does what he pleases, and their
social life is so governed by social art that every one
is justly compensated. Each individual is as well
satisfied with society as with himself; and as on
Earth no one would change his individuality for
another's, so the Marsites would not change their form of
society for any form imaginable, a condition of existence
we can scarcely conceive of, for on Earth people
are seldom fully satisfied with themselves, let alone
with society.
I was shown how to arrange this library and then
left to my own amusement. I presume there were five
thousand books, all of uniform style and binding. In
Mars, books are all bound alike to conserve attention.
Various other devices are used for the same purpose.
I ran my eye over the case containing philosophical
works, and selected a volume which purported to have
been written one thousand years (two of our time)
after one of their great men or gods. I found from
my previous reading that the books of that era, though
fully a thousand years behind the present in Mars,
were the ones best suited to me. This book was rather
gossipy, but being fond of memoirs and the like, I
found it pleased me. I will make a few quotations
that have a bearing on the scientific age of civilization,
for no doubt you wish to know what one would find in
a book from Mars. I quote:
"The great difficulty of philosophy is not to find the
truth, but to get people to adopt it. Our social
reformers for the last hundred years have all been
wrong in trying to accomplish social reforms.
Society as a whole cannot be worked upon. It is too
large an undertaking. It is like the universe, it must
be attacked in parts. Many social régimes have been
planned, which, if society could adopt, peace, harmony
and perfection would be reached; but after years of
research, I cannot see that any of these social systems
has ever benefited the race one jot or tittle. To work
on society as a whole is to begin on the roof of a house
first. It means suicide or martyrdom to those who
attempt it. Martyrdom may be glorious, but any reform
that requires it to get itself adopted will never
succeed. One of the saddest facts of history is the
number of good people who have thus suffered death.
It does not benefit truth to die for it; more people have
died for error. Dead men do not count as soldiers.
Truth, to be successful, must be a shield from death
instead of a cause for it.
"Nothing more incapacitates a person, in the selection
of the proper means for accomplishing any object,
than to have that object a grand one. He sees nothing
but the noble end. Practically it makes him
insane. He forgets everything else in the world. If he
has great power, he does great wrong by persecuting
others for not agreeing with him. If he is weak, he
falls a victim to the consequences of his own intense
beliefs. Feeling is a poor guide to reform, yet it is
the great propelling force. If reformers were less of
moralists and more of philosophers, they would
accomplish more good. In matters like this we have a
faithful guide, but one perhaps too slow for the
ambitious reformer to follow Nature.
"You will agree with me when I say that the teachings
of all the philosophers of the remote past are
false; yet somehow the race lived, even developed.
Nature brought man through, unaided by his own
efforts, for we now see that they are all futile, and, if
so, instead of helping him, of course, they retarded
him. What is Nature's method? How does Nature
form societies? For, despite Nature's roundabout
ways, society is her object, her desideratum.
Manifestly Nature's method is not to work on society as a
whole. Reforming society is like saving money; save
the dimes, and the dollars will take care of
themselves. Reform individuals, and society will reform
itself. Socialism comes last instead of first. The
application of a new doctrine must not prove a detriment
by ostracising him who holds it, but a help to
assist him in his present life. Others will adopt it
from policy. A reformation of all the individuals will
reform society. Nothing is plainer than the truth
that the only care we should have is for the individual.
This is the method of Nature. Every law of Nature,
is for the preservation and perpetuation of the
individual. The object of social art supplements Nature
with a coördinate aim the perfection of the individual.
We will never reach anything like a just social form
until it is forced upon us by individual development
which will make an unjust social form impossible.
"The great beauty of a city is not produced by some
one deliberately planning it, but by each citizen
consciously building something fine for himself. Each
man's work enhances the beauty of his neighbor's.
The same holds good in forming societies. The
reformation of one individual helps to reform another, and
when all are reformed, as a result society is reformed,
yet not aimed at as an object. This method is practical. It can be applied with profit by any one at any
time. One person does not depend on another. I can
begin at once, and the sooner I begin the better it will
be for me. It makes no particular difference to me
whether you apply this philosophy to yourself or not.
If you do not, then I will outstrip you in life's race,
but if you do, then your advancement will help me on.
My interest is your interest, and both our interests are
common interests, a social interest. There can be no
objection to this method, for it is so natural that no
opprobrious name can be applied to it. It can be acted
upon in secret. Its results will command the admiration
of all, because it will benefit all.
"Throughout animal life the individual is subordinate
to the species, but in the human race, in order
that the race may reach perfection as a race, the
individual is made perfect as an individual, for only
through perfect individuality can the race reach
perfection. Nature, as it were, has taken man into
partnership, and added to her infinite power his art, and
together, he controlling and directing her forces, they
produce the highest form of life — society."
I must confess that I agree with much this author
says, but I warrant you, if I read on, that I will find
some of the most obnoxious philosophy. 'Tis ever
thus. So long as these philosophers speak generally,
we agree with them, but when they come down to the
specific, we object. On Earth nine men out of ten
believe in evolution in a general way, but not one in ten
believes in Spencer, Darwin, Comte, John Fiske, or
Lester F. Ward. So I predict that I revolt at this
author's specific facts, but I pledge the reader that, no
matter how radical, I will give an account of them.
After the introduction, which I just quoted from,
followed a book entitled: "Metaphysics." This portion
of this philosophy was quite obscure; besides, owing to
my dislike to the prolonged exercise of attention
required in reading metaphysics, I don't know whether
I can give a correct account of it or not. The problem
of metaphysics is to tell how the mind knows, and to
tell what the mind is. The mind, according to the
Marsites' notion, is nothing but the high organization
of the world-force in Nature. This force in Nature is
known under many different names — gravitation,
electricity, affinity, etc., etc. — but in its organized form in
man it is called mind. The intellect is a product of
the phenomenal world, and knows only the phenomenal
world; but the noumenon, that which is back of
the phenomenon, is identical with the force in us we
call I. Back of the universe is one I, unorganized, the
World-Force; the basis of our being is another I,
organized, the human mind. These two Egoes are
identical, and as we know ourselves, so we know the
noumenon; therefore there is no unknowable; only the
known and the unknown. The function of the reason
and conscience will be spoken of in another place; so
suffice it to say here that the reason is a kind of
intellectual sense that corrects, coördinates, and classifies
the perceptions received through the senses. The
conscience performs a similar function for the emotions.
The reason is the monitor of the phenomenal world;
the conscience is the monitor of the noumenal world.
They together are the true guides of life.
For fear of putting you to sleep, I pass to the next
book entitled "Orientation," from which I transcribe:
"The two requisite conceptions that an individual
should have before he can reform himself are: (1) A
true conception of himself, his powers, his conditions,
his destiny; and (2) A true conception of the universe
and its relation to him.
"In the past all the conceptions of man were false."
This was rather sweeping, but as it referred to Mars
it affected me but little.
"All past conceptions of the universe are false.
The first true conceptions of these cardinal
phenomena have been formed in our age. In the past man
conceived himself to be infinitely greater than he is,
and the universe infinitely less than it is. Man's
arrogance was only surpassed by his ignorance, yet it
must be said that, if the human race in the
remote past had been aware of its real insignificance
as a cosmic fact, probably it would have
become extinct; but its belief in its God-missioned
destiny saved it from its hard environment; however,
this is only a conjecture, for the race's greatest
enemies have always been members of the race, and, if
they had been taken down, no doubt good would have
resulted. Today we have the true conception of man
and of the universe, and thus have the basis of a
correct system of philosophy and a scientific system of
morals. Despite what man has thought himself to be
in the past, he is a very insignificant being, and the
universe is the one grand object of all."
Then followed a minute description of the universe
in five books. The author's conception is this: There
is a great process going on in the universe that takes
millions of years for completion. All the matter from
an incandescent gaseous form assumes a complete
solid form; then by the weakening of the repelling
forces of matter all the bodies of a system are precipitated
into one another with such force that heat is
generated in sufficient quantity to cause all to pass
into the incandescent state again. Then follows the
evolution of the system once more; this takes millions
of years and goes on ad infinitum.
During one process of changes on the planets, it
becomes possible for animal life to be developed, which,
during ages of ages, develops into man. Man is a
product of the conditions of his planet. He changes
as it changes. Most of human progress is a result of
physical change in the planet on which the human
lives. The object, or purpose, of the universe, is
shrouded in mystery. The Marsites teach that the
universe is the result of a World-Force which is
identical with mind, and it is perfectly unorganized,
rather the factors of mind than mind itself, which
cannot exist except in a brain. The World-Force
perceived through the intellect is matter, but as it is
identical with conscience it is also mind.
One of the first causes of human development was a
modification of temperature. It appears that on Mars
man was first developed at the poles of that planet,
the central portion being too hot for habitation; then,
as the planet cooled, man spread over the entire
surface, the temperature gradually forcing him to the
equator, which will be the last habitable portion of the
globe before it becomes too cold for life.
The struggle for food upon human development was
minutely traced. At this time chemical food was not
invented. The great evils resulting from fear were
admirably described. All the nightmare of the past
was a result of fear in some form or other.
The Marsites' notion of God could not be otherwise
than erroneous, never having had any revelation like
us. God, according to them, is an invention of man
(idolatry), instead of man being an invention of God.
Of course, in the remote past they believed exactly as
we do in regard to this matter. They have various
theories as to how the idea of God arose. One is that
gods are great men deified (hero worship). Before their
population became homogeneous, and while it was
conglomerate, they had various examples of this; but
they finally settled down to the worship of one God,
which, too, at last, suffered the fate of his brothers,
and was relegated to the limbo of past idols. They
have no personal God, but believe everything a result
of a power called the World-Force. The word God in
Mars, even in its figurative sense, has passed from use.
Neither do they believe in the immortality of the
soul, yet it was at one time a prevalent belief, though
not an ancient one. This is not strange when we
remember that until Christianity came, we had no
accurate idea of immortality, if we had any idea at all;
now, we know that we are to be resurrected and live
again in this same body. Such an idea is unknown,
or rather disbelieved, in Mars. They give some queer
explanations of the belief in the immortality of the
soul, and consider our resurrection of the body as one
of the crudest of all.
They say, if man had never been a dreaming animal,
that he would have known nothing about the
other world; that immortality is a result of dreams,
not day dreams, but real sleep dreams.
Now, you can see how man is lowered in his own
estimation when he sees that he is not the sole object
of the universe, and has but one short life to live with
not a friend but his brother. When the people
discovered that there was to be no settling of accounts
after death, they demanded justice in this life.
Reason and conscience told them what was right, and
while they believed that they had an infinite friend in
God to fight their battles for them, they left the issue
to Him; but when this theory was exploded, they
demanded a settlement themselves. They set about to
attend their own business, and became much enamored
with the present life, which was reduced to scientific
principles. Art was applied to the individual. Human
nature was studied, and for the first time in the
history of the race did man realize the true significance
of the Grecian maxim: "Know thyself." Every evil
was traced to its source, and a remedy, that each
individual could apply to himself, was found. The first
institution, a result of this new philosophy, was a
scientific system of education, of which I will speak
in a following chapter.
I must confess that the Marsites are a remarkable
people, and that I had been reading a remarkable book.
This philosophy put me in mind of some of the social
schemes elaborated by the godless French. And I
could not help but think how near these Marsites came
to hitting upon the central truth of Christianity
unaided as they were by revelation. Christianity is an
individual affair. Every one must save himself. No
attention is paid to society as a whole; if the individual
is saved, society will take care of itself. I was in
full accord with the philosophy of this system, if
differing from it as to details. I could not but dissent
when they looked upon man as an animal to be
improved as we improve stock; when they applied
psychology to the matching of people in marriage; when
they looked at physical development as a condition of
moral development; when women were deemed better
judges of men than men of women, and thus made
marriage an affair of the weaker sex; and when
marriage was based on scientific principles. I also objected
to living in a society where the strongest were the
favored, instead of the weakest.
Any further estimate of these people I defer till my
full review of them is given. At this moment I heard
the tap of a bell, and having been informed that it was
the bell for the general gathering of friends, I made
haste to dispatch my dinner and repair to the gathering.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XV.
SOCIETY IN MARS.
On my way to this general reception I met Victorian,
who informed me that I would be an object of interest.
I will confess that this pleased me greatly.
Distinction is something that all Americans crave. Now,
while I like to be a wonder, I, too, like to see wonders;
so I requested Victorian to let me view this assembly
before joining it. He consented. We ascended to an
upper chamber, which opened into this general reception
room, and began our observations. There were
possibly a hundred persons present at this gathering,
about evenly divided in regard to sex. Victorian told
me that such gatherings were held frequently for
purposes of recreation, and that in large communities.
they sometimes numbered thousands of people.
Every house is built to accommodate its coterie of
friends, and every person in Mars belongs to some
coterie or other. There is no caste, no aristocracy.
None remain away from these gatherings except the
savants, and they purely for the purpose of
concentration of power; but after completing some great
work, they invariably attend these coteries for recreation.
These meetings are trysting places for young
people. This was of great interest to me, as on Earth all
such matters are left to chance. The idea of a courting
court was a novelty worthy of Mars. I informed
Victorian that courting on Earth was always done in
private. He told me that in Mars friends often
publicly discussed a couple's. adaptability for wedlock.
And what he stated I found to be true. Woman seemed
to be the active party, and man the passive. In this
regard, woman's observing powers were remarkable.
Their ability to read men was phenomenal. I noticed
another peculiarity: very little talk on marriage was
indulged in; in fact, it seemed to me that they talked
about everything except love, and then in conclusion
prophesied marriage just when one would the
least expect it.
The throng below was the highest form of human
life I had ever seen. Faint, almost inaudible, music
was heard in the distance, which seemed to swell into
prominence at every pause in the amusement. The
conversation was perfect, artistic. Each group developed
its theme with that coöperation of thought only
possible among perfect thinkers.
In one of the rooms off from the main assembly
there was dancing; in another men and women were
playing at gymnastic feats; while in another they
were rehearsing or burlesquing a dramatic performance;
while in still another there was a coterie engaged in some game that was like a puzzle, only
human beings were used instead of some instrument.
The expression on the faces of the players was remarkable
in its intense interest.
Rippling laughter which seemed to be an accompaniment
to the music was the only common sound to the
whole gathering.
Nothing seemed to be arranged, nothing planned.
There were no overseers, no servants. It was a body
of people full of individual life, gaity, gladness spurred
into social happiness by mere association. The joys
of children at play are nothing compared to the innocent
happiness of these people. What could our life
be if we were free from care? Man is a being
peculiarly susceptible to pleasure, and after seeing these
people one can but wonder how human beings can
succeed in making themselves so miserable as they do.
The Marsites are indeed a free people. They, in
fact, have free speech. The only thing that will hurt
a person's feelings in Mars is to speak falsely. There
are no forbidden topics; no one has a pet theory; there
are no tender creeds to be mindful of; patriotism is a
relic of the past; the love of party is extinct. Such
candor I thought impossible for human beings to reach.
Friendship is a wonderful sentiment with the
people of Mars — a feeling, I thought, beyond human
beings. There you find no jealousy, no envy, no hatred
Every man treats every other man as a brother, and
every woman treats every other woman as a sister, or
even better, for there is no conflict of interests among
the Marsites as among brothers and sisters here on
Earth. Friendship with these people is a religion.
No one would suppose it capable of producing such
joy as the Marsites obtain from it. There is not a
petty feeling of the human heart that friendship has
not rooted out. People have no hesitancy about telling
one another the innermost secrets of their lives.
It is possible to know all about a person; yet such is
the honor of the Marsites that they never take advantage
of one another.
I asked Victorian why it is that the people of Mars
are so open, free, and disinterested, while the people
of Earth are so mean and grasping. I shall never
forget his answer:
"It is because of the struggle for existence among
men on Earth. In your scramble for wealth, all your
better qualities are crushed, and your baser ones
developed. Among your women occurs a similar contest
for husbands, and as a result your women are
unsympathetic among themselves and sentimental toward
the men."
Of course, I did not agree with him, but just to keep
the discussion going I asked him how that condition
of affairs could be remedied. He answered:
"By applying art to human life. The race has been
developed from the animal creation through the agency
of natural selection and sexual selection; it can be
humanized only by the application of social art based on
science."
"Explain yourself," I said, for I pretended not to
understand him.
"Well, the race throughout the past has been
attempting to do that which until today it has never
been able to do; that is, develop itself. All of its
institutions are art-structures humanly produced to
ameliorate human suffering. The trouble with most
of them is that instead of being based on a science of
human nature and systematized knowledge, they have
been based on superstition, instinct, fear, fictions,
antipathies, prejudice, avarice, ignorance, hope, and many
other beliefs, emotions, and conceptions, but never on
scientific knowledge. I will illustrate this by the
institution of marriage.
"Formerly with us marriage was based on many
things besides the passion of love, and as a result, no
other institution caused more misery than it. There
were many motives impelling women to wedlock that
dominated the true one — love. Owing to woman's
inequality of opportunity, everything she obtained in
life was obtained through men. Love, which should
be the atmosphere of a woman's being, was often
avoided because under the unnatural conditions then
existing it almost always produced more pain than
pleasure. As women were denied the right to win for
themselves wealth, position, fame, and power, the
objects of life at that time, they married for them.
Ambitious women put themselves up to be bid for, and
such was the pressure of public opinion that such
women treated themselves more cruelly than a
slave-driver would treat a slave. Individuality in women
was totally crushed. Rare souls that had withstood
every jeer, overthrown every trammel, defied every
opposition, fell beneath the opprobrious name of old
maid, and married into slavery to escape a fate worse
than death. Nothing could excuse independence in a
woman but transcendent greatness, and a woman to
achieve greatness under her disadvantages had to have
much more intrinsic ability than a man. The first
woman to achieve greatness in this pseudo-civilization
was Marian. She realized an individuality as great as
any ever realized by man. After her came hundreds,
then thousands, then millions, until today woman is as
free in all her actions as man. Now marriage is what
it should be, not a means to acquire support or protection,
not a stepping stone to acquire by craft what was
denied by refusal of opportunity, not a pretense of
happiness, but a realization of it, not a barter of love
for position, wealth, or fame, but a basking in love
which gives such a growth to individuality that all
else in life can be realized. Now marriage is a union
of two perfectly equal, perfectly free, individuals in an
atmosphere of love, and is the realization of one of the
highest forms of social
happiness. When our scientists
began the study of love, they reduced its phenomena
to an exact science, so that its action could be
predicted; then the institution of marriage was changed
to fit the phenomena of love. The scientists did for
love what they had done for life, took it from under
the control of superstition, custom, and law, and placed
it in an atmosphere of freedom and intelligence, where
it could live and produce only joy, where it could act
and realize a perfect race. Since then we have had
nothing but happiness resulting from marriages."
"I think I understand you," I remarked. "But do
you not give an undue prominence to these scientists?
They are not gods," —
"No; but they have taken the place of gods!"
Since then I confess that I have never heard the
name of scientist, although claiming to be one myself,
without having a feeling of anger; yet on Earth
scientists are the most harmless of men, chiefly
engaged in making useful inventions, or in making
useless classifications of bugs and plants.
I informed Victorian that I was ready to go down
and be introduced to the assembly. We descended,
and before I was altogether ready, we were standing
in the presence of this now silent throng, and
Victorian was saying:
"Friends, we have with us today a stranger from
the planet Earth. I have associated with him for
some time, and I find him to be just what Franceska
said the inhabitants of that planet were, people
corresponding to the people of our planet who lived many
hundred years ago. Barring my friend's great reverence
for established errors, and his great distrust of
truth when opposed to authority, I find him a very
pleasant companion. This is a good opportunity to
verify several of our philosopher's theories about the
development of the race, but I beg of you to defer any
public investigation till I take our friend to the
University, where the examination will be made with the
proper tests."
I afterward learned that what he referred to was
several new senses which were well developed in the
Marsites while in me they could find only rudimentary
traces.
"My friend can speak Matosh well enough to be
understood, and is deeply interested in our civilization.
I think I can safely say this of him, that he is
one of Earth's most advanced and distinguished
citizens."
Seeing that this was a good opportunity to show off
my appreciation of the civilization of Mars, having
learned from Victorian that nothing but the deepest
questions of philosophy and art were discussed at
these gatherings I turned to him, after acknowledging
my introduction to the assembly in a few appropriate
remarks, and asked:
"What is the artistic use of a social force?"
"To use a social force artistically," he said, glancing
at the assembly as a professor of chemistry would
when he stops hearing a class to explain to some
novice a primary truth that every one is expected to
know, "is to turn it to the individual's advantage, and
at the same time not destroy its social function, but
perfect it. For example, the artistic dissipation of
love is to make it always contribute to the
individual's happiness, make it one of the prime
factors in producing individuality, instead of one of
the chief causes of destroying it, as it formerly was
with us, and is now, so I believe, on Earth. Social
forces in the hands of Nature are blind. Without
man's guidance they in a manner accomplish their
purpose, but the individual is sacrificed to the species.
They produce more misery than happiness. When
man reaches autonomy he makes every force of
Nature, the objective factors of his own being, work for
his own being's happiness. In other words, man is a
finite God directing the powers of Nature to his own
advantage, and thus accomplishing with the intelligence
the World Force has organized in him what the
blind strivings of the World Force could never have
done by itself. He reaches perfect individuality."
I have always heard it said that nothing but the
lightest talk was appropriate in society. Fearing to
expose my ignorance by any further questions on this
subject, I thought I would make it appear that I fully
understood him, and broached a subject even deeper.
"What is the characteristic of scientific morals, or
difference between scientific morals and the morals of
Earth?"
"The three moral systems of Earth, Brahmanism,
Buddhism, and Christianity, teach that the way to
reach happiness is to repress or kill the social forces,
the desires. This is accomplished by self-sacrifice.
Scientific morals accept the social forces as they
are, but regulates and controls them with reason
and conscience. The function of the intellect is
to guide the feelings; the function of the feelings
is to furnish motor power for the intellect.
Salvation comes through a scientific knowledge of
the universe and of man. So long as the race cannot
use the social forces artistically, so long will it be
miserable. The savage asks no question of Nature.
He does as the social forces dictate. He is sacrificed
to the species. He never knows what real happiness
is, because he is always consumed with uncontrollable
desires. He does not even know enough to kill his
desires and thus receive negative happiness. The
conscious life of a savage is always misery. What
progress he makes toward individuality is owing to the
strivings of the World Force. The moral systems of
Earth have made an advance on this. They have made
the first step in solving the problem of human happiness.
They teach that the individual must kill the
social forces, that happiness is reached by withdrawing
one's self from the world, from the species. The
individual sacrifices himself rather than be sacrificed
to the species, as the savage is. If the system of
morals now in vogue on Earth were put into practice,
literally the race would become extinct. Do not
understand me to object to your system of morals, for I
do not, or think that I do not see its function in the
life of the race, for I do. A human race must first
learn to suppress the social forces before it can learn
to regulate them. In other words, Christianity is but
a schooling for scientific morals which will come in
the fullness of time. Scientific morals accepts man as
he is, the species as it is, and through intelligence
directs the social forces to the individual's happiness,
subordinating the species to the individual, and thus
reaching perfection in individuality, and also perfection
in society."
With this he stepped away, and I was accosted by
one of the smallest and prettiest women present who
asked me to drink with her. She said, smiling sweetly:
"This is to your health, that you may die naturally."
Then she told me her name was Majorica. I
remarked that I was glad to make her acquaintance.
Others came up and told me their names. I was
troubled with a strange embarrassment, which
presently passed away, when I started a conversation about
the people of Mars having only one name. Majorica
said it was their custom to give a child only one
name, and that no two persons of the same guild ever
had the same name.
After a time I took Majorica to one side to talk to
her.
"I find Mars a wonderful place," I said.
"You do? In what respect do you think it differs
most from Earth?"
I had not thought about this, but I answered at
once:
"Life with you seems to be based on the principles
of peace; while life on Earth is based on the principles
of war." I had a strong desire to flatter this
woman, it is second nature to a man. My remark was
overheard by many, and it seemed to put me in a new
attitude. One exclaimed:
"He has the Kax-virtue."
I asked Majorica what was this virtue. She replied
that it was a desire to learn, to be taught from any
source, no matter how much in opposition to one's
philosophy or religion. It was a common virtue in
Mars now, but at one time it was rare.
I found that Majorica was as ignorant of Earth as I
of Mars; in fact, I found that she was not the superior
being that Victoria was; but more my equal, yet I
cannot say that I admired her any more for it. In
fact, I found that it was my inclination to fall in love
with the most highly developed woman I could find.
"I wish to ask you," I said, "about the passion of
love."
All eyes were on me at once, as if I had made some
blunder.
"It is quite a different passion here from what it is
on Earth. There it is wild and uncontrollable. Why
is this?" I asked.
"Well, all our life being perfectly free is regulated
by reason and conscience. People make love from facts
the same as they would make an invention from facts.
In these matters women are more expert than men;
most love-making is left to them. If all the facts in
regard to two persons' natures are known, the amount
of love that can be produced between them can be
predicted with unerring certainty. Very often they
call in a third or fourth person to help them make this
calculation. Young people collect facts from a few
months' association, compare notes, take advice, and,
if a conclusion is reached that a strong love can be
produced, then Art is applied to their case, and the
generation of love begins."
"Art? What do you mean by art?"
"Love, like all natural products, can be produced by
Art as well as by Nature. Means have been devised
by woman from a study of the natural phenomena of
love to produce it at will. Young people seldom
resort to these means, but in case of failing love
between man and wife, from an inartistic dissipation of
love in the form of animal passion, they frequently
are used."
"Please give one of these arts," said I, beginning to
think that indeed the women of Mars knew more about
love than the men of Earth.
"You cannot understand any of them if you do not
understand the philosophy of love."
I told her that I understood the philosophy of love,
and that I had had some experience with the passion.
"Then you understand love to be an energy?"
"Yes."
"That it is generated by association?"
"Yes."
"And is dissipated by contact?"
"Yes."
You can imagine I was becoming interested, for, if
I could master the secret of love, I had a fortune,
that is, if I could get it copyrighted. Do not for a
moment think that I forgot the business aspect of any
of my discoveries. I'm too much of an American for
that.
"Now," she went on to say, "there is a strange paradox
in the generation of love, and also in its dissipation.
For example, the clasping of the hands with no
further intimacy is one of the arts of producing love.
It is done in various games, swimming, dancing, etc.,
but while this contact dissipates love, and thus causes
pleasure, it is so slight that it creates much more love
than it dissipates. The same is true of kissing,
frequent partings, etc. When people are married, from
the dissipation of love in the form of animal passion,
love is often killed, and nothing will revive it but
complete separation" —
"By Jove! that's a fact!" I exclaimed. "And it
explains why people, who get a divorce, and remain
away from one another for a short time, come to
love one another again. Then a fellow should take
a vacation when he can't get along with his wife!"
Majorica remarked that she did not know how it
was on Earth, but in Mars when people grew tired of
one another, they often separated for good, as there
generally was some one else whom they could love
better than their old companion.
"Then love is not a lasting passion?"
"With people who understand its philosophy
perfectly, and know how to conserve it, and are adapted
to each other, it is; and this by no means is uncommon
among us."
A dispersion bell now rang, so we arose. Victorian
announced that on a subsequent day I would be at the
University, and all who wished to be there, were at
liberty to come.
Majorica, laughing gayly, kissed my hand, and bade
me good-bye. I felt considerably bored, and when I
came to myself the people were all gone. Then
Victorian presented me with a book, and said:
"If you wish to understand our educational system,
read this. I will now leave you to yourself."
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XVI.
EDUCATION AND SOCIAL ART.
It appears that several hundred years ago in Mars,
most men's minds were turned to the accumulation of
wealth. Fortunes of fabulous proportions were
amassed. Individuals became as rich as kings. The
cause of these great fortunes was man's recent success
in turning natural forces to human advantage.
Contemporary with this great growth of material wealth
was a great intellectual advancement by a few men
calling themselves scientists. These men, although
largely in the minority, acquired the directing power
of nearly all of the professions. They took complete
possession of the Church. (You will not understand
this, but I will explain in a subsequent chapter.) There
was no branch of life in which this small class of men
did not make themselves felt.
With the decay of the old-time beliefs, in the
resurrection of the body, and the new spiritual immortality
of the soul, there grew up a modified kind of belief in
immortality taught by these scientists. It was of two
kinds: A man was immortal through his offspring and
in his work, the children of his loins and the children
of his brain. This desire is not very marked in the
inhabitants of Earth; but from what I see on Mars, I
say, advisedly, that no stronger human motive exists.
The improvement it has caused in the race is
incalculable.
It is an incentive to action stronger than the love of
life or the love of offspring. It is through this force
that the individual affects society.
When this, what I will call natural immortality, in
contradistinction to the old immortality of superstition,
began to be prized, it caused men to devise many
ameliorative institutions, with the hope of becoming
immortal through them. It is the inspiration of literature,
the hope of Fine Art, the load-star of invention
and discovery, the sustainer of wonderful deeds in all
departments of life. But of all the arts, sciences, or
institutions devised to satisfy this social force, none
were of more lasting benefit to the race than Mars's
true system of education. At the time of which the
first part of this history treats, say a thousand years
ago of our time, many very wealthy men of Mars
conceived the plan of forming a universal system of
education. This system was designed to give to every
inhabitant a complete knowledge of the race's achievement.
A great undertaking, you will exclaim; and
no doubt, will also say, what its opposers said then, an
impossible one.
These philanthropists had a meager, make-shift
system of schools to begin with, called the common
schools, which were supported by the people, but were
inefficient on account of opposition from superstition,
and from being used by politicians. But as a stepping
stone for the scientists they were of great benefit.
The first improvement made by these philanthropists
was a reform in the course of study. Everything
we inherit is naturally and necessarily full of
errors. To put the spirit of an institution instead of
its fossilized forms is the function of a scientist on
Mars. With us it is the work of religion, for it has
been truly said: "Do not unto others as thou wouldst
not have others do unto thee; that is all the law; the
rest is mere comment." In life that institution which
should be freest from error is generally fullest of it.
This was only too true of the ancient educational system of Mars. In its endeavor not to teach anything
offensive it came nearer to touching nothing practical
at all. But the new education was based on science.
Everything taught was taught on its own merits. The
time will never come when we can have the whole
truth to teach, and if we were to wait until we
discovered it, in order to have a perfect system of education,
we would never have one. The Marsites settled
matters by teaching everything, but teaching it as it
really is. They taught hypotheses as such, theories as
such, errors as such. Nothing was set up as absolute
truth to intimidate further investigation. The fact is
fully half of science is nothing more than pure
hypothesis. No wrong can be done to the growing mind
to teach it a theory as a theory; but to teach it
something as the truth, when the truth in fact is only an
ideal, is to defeat the very aim of education. For
education means growth through the acquisition of
knowledge; and when the mind rests on something as
final it stops investigating; it stops growing. All
further education is impossible.
At first this system received much opposition.
Sectarian schools were organized to defeat it, and other
means devised, but to no effect. The old superstition
held with the people, but when it came to their
paying dearly for an education which did them no good,
when they could get a free one that would do them
great good (for it was seen that all who made a great
success in life were educated by the scientists), then these
devotees of superstition gradually shirked their duty
to it, and in less than a century superstition ceased to
exist. The political opposition all turned to support
as soon as the politicians saw that the success of the
system was inevitable. This tendency in politicians
to pretend to do what is right, and claim the honor of
doing it, when they see it is being done by others, is a
strange trait.
This system of education existed only because the
fittest survives. It accomplished what to our scientists
today seems so utterly impossible; it gave to the
proletariat a scientific knowledge of the achievements
of the race. It accomplished this by the slow but sure
conquest of one individual at a time, and in opposition
to all the powerful institutions inherited from the
past. Similar phenomena have occurred on Earth.
No one at its inception would have believed that
Christianity in less than five centuries would be the
philosophy of the Western world; but it was. So in Mars
no one thought that the teachings of science would be
accepted fully in less than three centuries; nevertheless
they were. Unlike Socialism, with science the
good time is not in the future, but the present. For
the individual who applies the teachings of science to
himself the future is today. It is perfectly possible
for one now to live the same kind of life that the
whole race will live two thousand years hence. All
such a one has to do is to apply the teachings of
science to his own life.
This scientific system of education was extended
over the entire planet of Mars. A national Bureau of
Education was formed, controlled by the Society of
Philosophers, whose function in civilization I will
attempt to explain in the following chapter. It may
be thought that a system of education so vast took a
great deal of capital to inaugurate it and keep it
going, but such was not the case. And it may be asked,
how were teachers supplied? Nothing is more simple.
Every pupil was made a teacher, and every teacher
was a pupil. They adopted the two cardinal truths of
education, which are (1) the way to learn a subject is to
teach it, and (2) the only true education is self-education.
For example, the second grades taught the first,
the third the second, the fourth the third, and so on.
In the higher branches of education there are no
teachers. Self-education is trusted exclusively. In
Mars education is life instead of a preparation for it.
Don't understand me to say that this is the way our
schools should be run. With us, this would be playing
at school instead of school. Any teacher knows only
too well that all play in school should be prohibited, if
needs be with the rod.
At the inception of this system of education this.
method of teaching occurred only in families. The
first child was taught by the parents, the second child
was taught by the first, and so on. Education is but
the supplementary work of rearing children, and so
education in Mars is largely controlled by parents. It
is self-education supplemented by that natural or
rather artistic coöperation which children can give to
one another, as in play. The using of the childish
desire for play in education has been utilized by some of
the educators of Earth. In Mars, as all the emotions
are dissipated artistically, the love one has for one's
children, instead of taxing one as on Earth, where one
sacrifices one's life for one's children's welfare, proves
an inexhaustable source of enjoyment to the parent.
There is a much more intimate relation between parent
and child there than on Earth. Parents and children
play together, study together, in fact, live
together. At first I thought that much of this delightful
existence was due to the fact that the struggle for
existence was done away with; but I found that most
of it came from man living his whole nature, not
centering his happiness upon some one emotion, hope, or
desire; but fully developing and enjoying artistically
his whole nature. The Marsites not being
consumed by any one desire have time for a complete
life.
The object of true education is ideas. Whatever a
man is, whatever a man does is, a result of his ideas.
It is a fallacy to think that all actions are caused by
feelings. Place within a man's mind lofty ideas and
you have a grand man, true ideas a true man, base
ideas a base man. All a man's ideas depend upon his
education or his lack of it. Hence, the first thing this
scientific system of education set about to do was to
furnish the individual with a system of education that
would make trifling, erroneous, and wicked ideas an
impossibility. It consisted of three phases of education.
While one phase was presented at one time, and
another at another time, yet all were presented at
the same time.
The Marsites begin teaching a child as soon as it is
born. The first phase of education is the development
of sense perception. A child is taught to see, feel,
hear, touch, and taste. The internal senses and also
the intellectual senses, in fact, all the senses, are
educated. The second phase of education teaches the
arts of education: Language, mathematics, drawing,
gymnastics, use of tools, scientific apparatus including
experimentation; then follow observation, comparison,
classification, generalization, originality, reason,
the use of hypothesis, logic, method of investigation,
the tests of truth, the object of intelligence and the
purpose of life. The third phase is the passing in
review all the achievements of man in science, fine art,
scientific morals, and social art, for the purpose of
knowing man's true relation to man and to the
universe.
What the Marsites have achieved with this scientific
system of education is not for me, an opponent, to
state. I feel it more my duty to pick flaws in it,
which, if I had the time I would do. With this apology,
I trust you will pardon me for eulogizing this
system of education somewhat, for it is natural for
the historian of a people to overlook that people's
shortcomings.
If I were writing a systematic treatise I would go
over the sciences according to their classification, but
I am not. Suffice it, then, for me to give a few desultory
remarks, which are reluctantly given for fear that
at some subsequent time, in some discussion, some
Marsite will use these concessions as a club with which
to beat me across the head. The wise dialectician
never concedes a point nor admits a fact unless
compelled to do so.
The Marsites know infinitely more about Nature
than we do. Their knowledge of astronomy is so
much superior to ours that I was unable to understand
it. The Earth is like a book to them, so they understand
geology much better than we understand
history. They can not only predict the weather, but to a
large extent can control it. Their apparatus for the
manufacture of atmosphere is a marvel of workmanship.
All the sciences are reduced to a mathematical basis.
A chemist, without any previous knowledge, can
predict the phenomenon resulting from the union of
several elements. Science in Mars is science. They have
formulas, or laws in biology, so pretentious that we
would deem them absurd. They have complete
control of sex. This is one of their greatest achievements
in science.
In the study of mind they have made marvelous
progress. The power of mind to influence mind without
the expression of thought is fully understood, and
is used by them in the education of children. The
phenomenon with us called mind-reading is prevalent
with them. It is largely a reading of the emotions.
Of course they are brilliant thinkers, but often by
merely associating with them without one word spoken
they can tell all about you; they receive impressions
through the emotions. This mind-reading must not
be confounded with the trick mind-reading now in
vogue on Earth, which most of us think is nothing but
muscle-reading. In true mind-reading the emotions
convey themselves to other emotions by subtle means
which I was unable to discover. As language is the
medium of thought, so this mind-reading is the medium
of the emotions, which they understand fully.
Their, development of the senses, too, is wonderful.
They mark several which we have not or have not
marked. There are three kinds: I. Preservation of self
(1) external touch, taste, hearing, smelling, sight,
muscular sense, temperature sense, etc., etc.; (2) internal
appetite, hunger, thirst, fear, etc., etc.; (3) intellectual
reason, conscience, esthetic taste, clairvoyance, etc.,
etc.; II. preservation of offspring, sexual desire, love,
friendship, love of activity, etc., etc.; III. preservation
of society, pride, honor, sympathy, ambition, language,
piety, desire for immortality, etc., etc.
Evidently the Marsites' definition of a sense is
different from ours, and I wish to state that I am not
responsible for this classification of the senses. I simply
give it as a historical fact. You should also bear in
mind that in translating this from Matosh I am
compelled to use words that connote ideas not found in the
original.
An altogether new class of studies to me was their
diversion studies, or the Fine Arts. The part the fine
arts play in the life of the people of Mars is
incalculable.
This is especially true of poetry, music, and
conversation, but I believe we do not recognize
conversation as a fine art. I shall speak of fine art in
another place.
But the study that charmed me most was society. I
consider their science of sociology, based as it is on
human nature, or psychology and biology, to be the
most wonderful thing of which I have ever read. With
them the structure of society is as much a structure of
art as any machine is a structure of art with us. I
know on Earth society is called an organism, a living
organism, and in a certain sense this is true; but with
the Marsites society is a work of art. They made it,
based it on their knowledge of human nature. Old
society, the makeshift thing, like natural modes of
conveyance, such as floating logs and plodding animals,
has been relegated to the past.
Society is organized exclusively for the individual.
It would not exist at all but for the fact that it
gives the individual greater scope for advancement.
An account is given of the great conflict between the
individual and the State, and of the individual's final
triumph through science. The object of Nature is the
perfect individual; one of the means of producing
this individual is society; and as the means are always
subservient to the end, of course they are so in this
case.
The most difficult thing for me to understand in
Mars was social art. In fact, if the Marsites had not
pointed it out to me, I doubt if I would have known
such a thing existed. Social art is the true function
of society in directing the individual. It is the intelligently
applied influence of the species on the individual. It is found in all the departments of life, yet in
no respect can it be said to restrict the liberty of the
individual. The effect of society upon the individual
with us is not artistic, simply because it is not intelligent.
Social art neither commands, persuades, nor
forces the individual. It shows him the truth and
trusts to his own judgment in adopting it, and in
Mars none but an insane person refuses to adopt the
truth when he has it presented to him. Owing to the
fact that the social forces with us are not controlled
by scientific morals, this by no means is true. Just
so long as the desires are not controlled by intelligence
and the intellectual, esthetic, and moral senses
are undeveloped, so long will man adopt that which
satisfies his desires, let it be error, vice, or persecution.
What made social art so difficult of being understood
was, it performed its work in spite of all the
powerful institutions inherited from the past, such as
the State and — pardon me for not mentioning it. In
fact, often these institutions claimed the honor of
accomplishing the work done by social art. But if
social art was to receive the honor due it, then there
would be no excuse for the existence of these effete
institutions, and they would cease to exist; so we
cannot blame their supporters for selfishness. As on
Earth, sociologists study savage races, in order to
understands the early history of mankind, so in Mars do
the sociologists study these superannuated institutions,
letting them exist for that purpose as experimental
history of the immediate past, thus deriving good
from what is an evil, and apply the knowledge thus
gained, to an understanding of society as it now is in
Mars.
With us public opinion is incipient social art, the
chief difference being that, in Mars, public opinion is
not made by the masses but for the masses by the
Society of Philosophers. So instead of it being opinion
it is scientific knowledge. It has all the authority of
religion with the self-executing power of public opinion.
Social art makes it possible for the thought of one
mind to benefit the whole race. It directs the individual
into avenues of expending energy, for example,
Fine Art and intellectual pursuits that produce joys
unknown to Earth. The purest happiness that the
race can have is intellectual. The only property a
man can never get enough of is knowledge. The only
inexhaustible mine of Nature is truth; and the only
way the individual can become truly rich in this civilized
wealth is to give what he has to the race. Egoism
reaches perfect altruism in the possession of that which
cannot be diminished by possession but augmented.
What a miserable being must a man be who has
such an uncontrolled desire for wealth that when he
has millions he drives himself to death to gather more
millions! There is more joy in one day of a life that
has all the desires controlled, the artistic, intellectual,
and moral nature awakened by social art, than in a lifetime
of such a life. Perfect happiness is reached in
contemplating the beautiful, disseminating the truthful,
and in living the good. In such a life extravagance
means economy.
It may be asked: Does not society have institutions,
individuals, to put into effect its suggestions? It does.
The peculiarity is that, as society in Mars appeals only
to the intellect and the conscience, there is no use
whatever made of force. In Mars an individual's
fitness to do a thing is the only qualification and necessity
for his doing it. A person, as it were, elects
himself to any position he may wish to fill. This, in a
measure, is true on Earth. The world's greatest thinkers
have been opposed by the race, the world's greatest
artists owe nothing to the race, the world's great moral
teachers have not spoken from some Vatican. In Mars,
if an individual wishes to dictate something to the
race, he shows the race his ability to do it, and it
gladly accepts what he has to offer. Such a life makes
organized mediocrity impossible and impotent. The
race now trusts exclusively to self-appointed individuals
in all the departments of life. Just as on Earth
we have let language guided only by intelligence
work out its own perfection, so do the Marsites let all
their institutions controlled only by intelligence work
out their perfection. This, too, is in a measure true
on Earth. We all know the power of the press, yet
the press is a perfectly self-regulating institution.
Sometime here, as now on Mars, production, distribution,
and consumption will be free or guided and
controlled only by intelligence. Sometime justice will
be trusted to honor, morals to sympathy and intelligence,
happiness to science. Sometime our life will
be free and intelligent, and man will find that social
art will guide, control, and lead much more efficiently
than any of the restrictive institutions of the past.
This will come about on Earth as it has in Mars, by a
gradual metamorphosis of existing life. The Marsites
are reaching the acme of civilization; we are but
entering upon it. Let us who know this be not depressed,
for if we ourselves are free from the trammels of
man's long tutelage we can even now realize in our
own lives all the happiness that man can and will
realize in any age. Society may be more perfect, but
the individual can attain happiness now as well as in
the most perfect society. The millennium is reached
when we control the social forces artistically, for
society is now sufficiently free and intelligent not to
destroy individuality no matter if it has not ceased
to interfere with it. Social ignorance may send a few
dark shadows into every life where social intelligence
would send light; but a recollection of what the race
has been should make us contented with our lot and
not sorry to think that we have not been born in Mars
or the heavenly future when man will find himself
everything the world force guided by intelligence can
produce ——
I feel it won't do for me to write this way. Like a
man writing a letter I have gone astray, but believing
what I have written under the inspiration of the
moment to be my real feelings, though not what I
would subscribe my name to or be responsible for, yet
I let it stand. I doubt if one man in ten knows his
real feelings. We are hypocrites from habit. So when
we lose ourselves in a letter or a journal for the purposes of psychologic study of the mental state, then
upon us we should not erase it or amend it, but let it
stand. This is my excuse for having written the last
few paragraphs. I trust you will accept it.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XVII.
GOVERNMENT BY INTELLIGENCE OR DYNAMIC SOCIOLOGY.
It is a difficult matter to understand a nation in a
month's study, as some of England's literati can attest
in their endeavor to understand the United States in
that length of time. In considering what I say of the
government of Mars, it should be borne in mind that
my statements, though perfectly scientific, so much so
in fact, that I expect to see this journal quoted in all
works on sociology that appear on Earth in the future,
yet owing to lack of time for investigation they are
not perfectly accurate. I would caution statesmen,
in modifying laws from suggestions I give them, not
to be too hasty, I know enthusiasm cannot be
prevented, but it can be controlled. I trust all who read
this journal will think twice before they act once.
These cautionary words would not be necessary only
I see that I am like a translator who translates a book
with which he does not always agree.
In spite of myself I am compelled to express thoughts
which, in my sober moments, I deem dangerous and
voice sentiments which may be highly advanced, yet
are very painful to us of Earth. But when you
remember that this is all about Mars and does not
concern Earth, you will not want me to suppress any of
the thoughts or silence any of the sentiments, but
give expression to both as scientific phenomena. So
from now on, despite my fears of expressing dangerous
truths and my dread of being taken advantage of
by the Marsites through my concessions and thus
being forced to acknowledge their superiority, I will try
to state only facts.
If anything is worshiped in Mars it is truth. With
the people of Mars truth has always been held in
reverence, but about three hundred years ago (six of our
time) the pursuit of truth became the object of life.
Up to that time the people of Mars worshiped what
they were taught to worship, and they are so peculiarly
constituted that, if they are taught an error, they
implicitly believe it, even though it kill them, when the
special property of truth is to prolong life.
Like every other wonderful thing in Mars, truth is
said to be a product of science. In all ages of that
planet philosophers have arisen and have proclaimed it.
In the remote past the penalty attached to the publication
of the truth depended upon the manner of its.
publication. If orally, then death speedily followed.
If by prose writings, then followed persecution. Some
of the ancient poets spoke the truth pure and unadulterated,
and were much loved and respected. But
today in Mars its publication in any form whatever
meets with great reward. In the past the truth met
much opposition from a class of men who lived on
error. Some feasted on the masses as tyrants, while
others were highly paid to teach the errors that upheld
these tyrants.
A change came when the truth was made so clear by
science that any one could see its utility. All the
reverence held hitherto for error was now given to
truth. Nearly all the teachers of error became the
teachers of science, for these men taught this error
against their wishes, and because the people demanded
it and, too, because the teachers had to teach for a
livelihood. Knowledge became the most respectable thing
in the world. Then arose the Society of Philosophers.
Following this was government by intelligence. Everything
was placed on its own merits. Nothing was taught
dogmatically. The most fundamental postulates of
science were as often proved as the most abstract truths.
Unfortunately the great mass of mankind on Mars, as
on Earth, are compelled to receive most of their philosophy
on authority; but the difference is this: In Mars
the means of verifying a doctrine are even at hand,
and the individual is never forced or persuaded to
accept any hypothesis, theory, or philosophy. As
Congress accepts without question the reports of its
various committees and by so doing works correctly
the division of labor in thought, so in Mars the people
not engaged in philosophical investigations unhesitatingly
accept the reports of their philosophers. They
respect these reports as we respect law; but unlike us
in regard to law which we let get itself administered
as best it can, the Marsites deem it their first duty to
put into practice the truths discovered by their
philosophers. With all our intelligence, the most difficult
thing to get a man to do on Earth is to apply intelligence
to his own life. We have improved stock by
artificial selection until we have produced new species;
but the advocates of stirpiculture are laughed at. In
Mars the fundamental laws of biology are applied to
human development. But then they are without
Providence and revelation, which we of Earth know
direct us in this important matter. It is the laws
discovered by science and not the laws made by
legislators that the Marsites take particular pains to
obey.
It may be of interest to state how these philosophers
are selected: they are self-appointed, that is, anyone
who desires to do so, can publish a philosophical
work. This work will be examined by the philosophers
to whom the author sends it, who, in their minor
reports, will review it. If it be of any benefit, it will
be examined Mars over, and as a recompense the
author will be recognized as a member of the Society
of Philosophers, the highest honor known to man.
The purpose of this Society of Philosophers is to
furnish the race with a scientific knowledge of its
environment and of itself. This knowledge when placed
in the hands of the people through education, the
press, the Church, literature, high art, and fine art,
becomes public intelligence. The Society of Philosophers
is nearest allied to our scientific world. It is
the true government of Mars, yet it itself does not
govern, but the knowledge it elaborates ant puts in
the hands of the people. It makes no more effort to
enforce the adoption of the laws it discovers than an
inventor forces the race to use his invention. And as
man everywhere adopts of his own accord that which
his intelligence shows him to be for his own interest
as well as for the interest of all, so the laws of this
Society of Philosophers are self-executing and thus
fulfill the true definition of a natural law.
As in the science of geology scientists for years
used cataclysms to explain its phenomena; and in
biology used special creations to explain its phenomena,
but were in the end compelled to acknowledge
that the same slow forces now at work are amply
sufficient to explain everything; so in sociology, for years
philosophers have overlooked the palpable forces which
in time will effect the perfection of the race, and have
trusted to "new births," "divine grace," and "revelation."
Honor, honesty, common sense, sympathy,
friendship, the love of truth, love, etc. — the incipient
social forces, heretofore overlooked, when developed
scientifically, will produce a perfect man, a perfect
race. We are so in the habit of looking at man as a
depraved being, despite the evidence which shows him
to be nine times out of ten a good being and the
tenth time bad from adverse circumstances, the chief
being the belief that he is a fallen being, that we are
incapable of understanding the real facts of human
life. The life we live is not life as it really is, but an
unnatural life caused by an erroneous philosophy
inherited from the past. Instead of being absent of
the age, the great mass of mankind live the same kind
of life that was lived five hundred years ago. No one
but the philosopher and the poet knows what the race
will be when it adopts truth for its philosophy. Life,
then, will be so altogether different from our life now
that man will indeed be a new being. If men would
stop lamenting that they were not born a thousand
years hence and would only live in the present, they
would find life in the nineteenth century up to their
highest ideal.
It is said that in India in excavating the natives
carry out the dirt on their heads in huge baskets.
The English put them to trundling it out in barrows;
then left them to themselves. Afterward returning,
the English were surprised to see that the natives,
instead of wheeling the barrows, carried them on their
heads as they formerly did the baskets. We have
wonderful knowledge, but use it to no better advantage
than were it superstition, error, and ignorance.
This Society of Philosophers is a grand thing. The
progress the race has made under it is remarkable.
From a study of the conditions of life this society
arrived at the scientific method of production, distribution,
and consumption. In order that all the powers
of man may be used and his greatest efficiency realized,
nothing is more difficult and at the same time
more necessary than coöperation. This truth is the
philosophy of all the institutions inherited from the
past. But coöperation, in order to be coöperation, must
be artistic, that is, must aim exclusively at individual
development. This can be accomplished only through
a scientific knowledge of life in all its departments.
Of course the views of these philosophers on sociology
got themselves adopted because they were true
and consequently the best. The truth is the only
philosophy that does not have to use force to get itself
adopted. As now on Earth, on Mars once the vast
majority of mankind, owing to misconceptions of life,
were Philistines; but intelligence, like sunlight, made
grow upon this apparently barren soil germs of humanitarianism
which developed into scientific morals and
social art. This progress was not effected by force, but
in spite of all the force the static elements of society
could use to oppose it. The only leverage man can get
on the race is through the individual, so that by the slow
but sure conquest of one individual at a time, who
stood as a living witness to the worth of science and
taught it to his children, this desideratum was realized.
If there is any one thing a human being loves
to do it is to proselytize. This social force science
dissipates artistically in promulgating its own
doctrines. Science is destined to be the race's final
religion. History teaches how several erroneous religions
have spread over the whole world, and by the
same method of promulgation science will achieve
universal acceptation. It is but a question of time when
the race will be a race of scientists.
It may be worth while to mention in detail some of
the achievements of this Society of Philosophers.
Until their advent the people of Mars wore a cumbersome
kind of dress very deleterious to the health and
also very expensive. It appears that the style of
woman's dress was copied after a great actress who had
an abnormally small waist, and all women in attempting
to follow her style suffered untold misery and great
injury. Such a thing, of course, could never occur on
Earth, for with us the stage is held in disrepute. The
Society of Philosophers published a manifesto to the
effect that they had devised a scientific and artistic
costume. They sent out patterns to all parts of
Mars. Within twelve months the change was accomplished,
and these men claim that good results could
be detected at once in the happiness of the people.
In the same way chemical food was introduced, and
medicated water, and all the noxious weeds and animals
exterminated. The last two reforms were
accomplished within three years; of course, this would
be impossible on Earth, but then life with us is left to
the ravages of chance.
This Society of Philosophers effects nothing by
revolution, but everything by evolution. There are no
breaks in the history of Mars. The Society of
Philosophers was about two hundred years (four of our
time) acquiring the directing power of society.
There is one thing I should make perfectly clear,
and that is, that nearly all that class of men who, in
the old civilization, made a living by trafficking in
error (if they seriously believed the error to be the
truth) were employed in this new régime. For
example: the old system of error had in every village
several, and in cities hundreds, of houses where on
stated days this error was taught to large masses of
the people. Under the new system none of this was
done away with; the only change made was that the
old error was replaced with the new truth. This was
not done in a day, or a year, but it was accomplished
within a century. You must remember that at this
time the philosophers had not acquired the power to
effect immediate changes by authority. What they
did in that age was done in spite of opposition, and
was proof that their philosophy was true.
I attended one of these churches and listened to a
sermon, then afterward went to Majorica's library,
and compared it with one of the ancient church's
sermons. The difference was wonderful; the evolution
was complete. I call these houses churches, not to
liken them to our churches, which have the truth
revealed to them, but because they will be better understood
by my calling them so.
The same is true in regard to all great cures for
diseases. In Mars, owing to this Society of Philosophers,
every man is his own doctor; sickness is almost
unknown; death, except from old age or accident, is
remarkably rare. All the plague-like diseases are
now unknown; but there, as well as here on Earth, or
anywhere else in the universe, if a man violates one
of the laws of Nature, he suffers for it. Nature is a
God who knows no forgiveness.
These philosophers have organized many institutions
unknown to Earth. As inventors study physical
forces with a view of taking advantage of them, so
these philosophers have studied the social forces in
order to take advantage of them. Nature pushes
every desire to the extreme. Like an advocate she
presents but one side, and in order to do a thing
she overdoes it. ere is more force wasted than
used. It is the function of intelligence to counteract
this waste and turn it into useful channels. The
apparent perversity of the social forces, the desires,
caused the ancient philosophers of Mars to think that
human nature was naturally evil. The fact is human
nature can be harnessed through intelligence and
become perfect, as the lightning of the storm-cloud has
been harnessed through appliances and changed from
the thunderbolt of an angry god into one of the most
powerful servants of intelligent man. After all, man
is a reasoning animal, and when morals which are based
on superstition are taught him he naturally disobeys
them. But when morals are based on science he is
from the nature of his mind compelled to obey them.
Whatever a man may do, the most difficult thing in the
world for him to do is to disobey an intellectual
conviction. Accordingly this Society of Philosophers
elaborated a system of scientific morals. I was somewhat
disappointed in it from its making individuality
the basis of morality. I was glad to find that the highest
expression of man's treatment of man was nothing
but the golden rule. A rule of equal importance
is their first law of the individual, which is: The
individual's highest duty is to strive to reach perfect
individuality. This is the basis of scientific morals,
for the extravagant use of the social forces always destroys individuality. On Earth man's foolish notion
that greatness consists in wealth, position, power, is
exactly opposite to the Marsites' notion. True greatness
consists in building up one's selfhood and not
one's conditions. If you will pardon me, to make this
notion thoroughly comprehensible to you, I will
express it in slang: The only way to own the Earth is
to become a world within yourself by developing your
individuality.*
*
I do not mean to imply that the reader is so ill-bred that he can
understand slang better than any other language; but on the contrary to imply
that he is cultivated and thus apologies for offending his refined taste.
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This Society of Philosophers teaches that more
happiness is derived from friendship than from any one
other emotion; that life without sympathetic friends
would not be worth the living. With Marsites friendship
is a kind of religion. I am convinced that their friendship
is much more candid, sympathetic, disinterested,
and loving than ours. In fact, with our emotions of
jealousy, envy, hate, and hypocrisy, I doubt if we
reach friendship at all. I think it would be suicidal
to any one to indulge in it in our mode of life.
In Mars, science takes the place of religion; this
life the place of heaven; the perfection of individuality
that of saving an imaginary immortal soul;
artistic happiness that of a life of vice, of foolishness,
of work, or that of self-sacrifice. The Marsites are
free from all fear, thus realizing true liberty, which
nothing but knowledge can give. They are responsible
to no one but to self, but a self that is rendered
through intelligence perfectly altruistic, a self that is
consonant with all sentient life. Society is held
together by a sympathy so strong that each and every
individual is conscious of the joys and sorrows of
every other individual. The imagination sees the
consequence of every act. Human life is a science.
It can be predicted, and as a result conduct is perfectly
artistic.
The more I knew of these people the more my
admiration for them increased; and at the same time, I
became aware of the fact that their natures were much
above our common human nature. I do not state
positively that affairs on Earth are even tending in their
direction, however, I believe they are.
Only now, in my investigations, I read a note on the
things which retarded the adoption of the new régime.
The statement was made that nothing so retarded the
adoption of truth as the lack of confidence in it. And
this lack of confidence in truth is generally from that
class of men who profess to teach it. I cannot understand
this. Bruno died for the truth; men in ages
since then, and even in our own age, have suffered
persecution for truth's sake. I read further. I see that
this note refers chiefly to the press. I am surprised at
it. I quote:
"Do you think our newspapers do not know the
truth? Do you think our editors do not know the
solution of nearly all the vexed problems that confront
us? Of course they do! Then, why do they not solve
these problems? On account of party spirit, of
self-interest, of lack of confidence in truth. The evil side
of their nature (the devil of the put) tempts them
for the sake of personal gain to remain silent, to
acquiesce in the respectable and accepted form of things.
This true Satan says: 'It is none of your business;
get rich; let the fools suffer; they love their
they worship the God who forges their chains: to
work for them is a useless task.' You editors listen;
you acquiesce. Truth is powerless without your aid.
There is no progress; humanity suffers. Life is a
curse; death a blessing."
I will concede that there is some truth in this. I
have read the history of Earth closely, and I am
inclined to believe that progress, or the amelioration of
the ills of man, instead of being the work of statesmen,
and men who profess to work for the good of the
race, has been a result of natural law and rare
individual reformers and has been made in spite of these
time-servers; yet they claim all the honor. Such was
the way Democracy was introduced into Athena; such
the way Christianity was introduced into Rome; such
the way religious freedom was introduced into
Europe. Free speech in England, I am sorry to say, was
not a result of Milton's arguments. King Charles
allowed the first free government in America not from
justice or argument, but because it bothered him less!
And slavery was not abolished through agitation. It
was an expediency of one political party to disable
another. Oh, Pharisee, your efforts to defeat, what
you claim the honor of accomplishing, are wonderful!
If this class of men, the moralists, had really had
confidence in truth, and the people's ability to accept
it, Earth today would be on a par with Mars; but as it
is, we are in a wild bedlam, not of darkness, but of
light, with grim anarchy staring us in the face. What
is to be done? I think, if every one would try to accept
a livelihood out of truth for one generation, the problem
would be solved.
With us, the faculty for learning is very great, so
great that we can easily prove all things and hold fast
to that which is true. There is no better education
than a complete investigation of the institutions of
man. Trace them to their foundations, and if they
prove to be worthless, you will widen your mind by
finding it out. When men try to earn a living out of
truth instead of prejudice, superstition, and error,
then will we be on the true way to the millennium.
Well, I see that in writing this I have proved
myself to be a typical American; I do not mind quarreling
at my nation; but I confess, if this journal was
written for the Marsites that I would not have written
this chapter.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XVIII.
AN ESTIMATE OF HUMAN DEVELOPMENT FROM A MARS
POINT OF VIEW.
Situated near Marina's residence was one of the
numerous colleges of Mars. On the day following my
last experience Victorian informed me that the
students of the college wished to make a scientific
examination of me to determine the position of the
inhabitants of Earth in the scale of human development.
I told him that I had no objections, only I requested
that one of the Marsites be examined with me, as I
did not wish to be imposed upon. Victorian consented
to do this himself.
The university was made up of several small buildings
with one large one in the centre that looked
like a temple. All were built in circles, and, like all
the buildings of Mars, were composed of transparent
material. I will describe only the central building or
rather the main hall of that building It had a seating
capacity of two thousand. The seats were
arranged in circular tiers one above another around
the building, except on one side where there was
a stage for speakers, musicians, or actors. The first
thing that struck me as a defect in the building was
the difficulty of egress in case of fire, but as there was
nothing about it to burn, of course, this was a useless
criticism. The next thing. I observed about this building
was its admirable system of ventilation. I have
not, as yet, discovered how this is accomplished, but
I will say this without fear of dispute that I never
saw a public building on Earth that could compare
with the buildings of Mars in this regard.
Victorian introduced me to some of the students.
They asked me to be examined in the main hall in the
presence of a thousand students; but when I learned
the nature of the examination, I declined. I will not
go into the details of the examination; suffice it to
mention the points about me which seemed to attract
attention.
The first thing pointed out as inferiority in me
was a tendency to corpulency. While I was in Mars I
did not see any stout people. They said my stomach
was very abnormal in size. One remarked that such
was the condition of early man's stomach when that
organ was used as a reservoir for food. As Victorian,
according to agreement, was being examined with me
I noticed that these observations were true.
My ears, eyes, brows, lashes, nose, teeth, lips, chin,
and hands were next examined. It would be tedious
to mention all the points on these organs. I will simply
mention some of the observations I made on my
friend. The hair of his head was all on his head,
i.e., it did not extend down upon his neck or face,
except a small isthmus at his ears, which connected
with his beard. His forehead ended in a distinct
outline, no straggling hairs here and there, but all
perfectly even. To have a point of hair down in the
centre of the forehead is deemed an indication of
lack of development. Victorian's eyebrows were
compact, heavy, and of a much darker hue than his
hair. His eyelashes were black and very long and
curved. It was impossible to see into his nostrils
unless he elevated his head; this was not the case with
me and was examined with great curiosity. His chin
was prominent and refined. His lips were full and
small. His ears were abnormally small, also his hands,
while the regularity of his fingers and nails seemed
unnatural. The Marsite's hair is much finer than
human hair; while their skin is not only finer, but
also more firm. Their hands and feet are at least two
sizes smaller than ours; while their teeth are smaller
than ours, and are not so many in number, twenty-eight
being the maximum, twenty-four the minimum.
When they found that I had thirty-two teeth it created
a sensation. They directed all their arguments to one
of their number, who, it seems, had claimed that such
was never the case with human beings. I told them
that I had seen a human skull which had thirty-six
teeth. They noted this fact in their books.
Next they began an examination of the muscles of
my body. I cannot give you much of an account of
this unless I go into details too technical for general
interest. It seemed that wherein Victorian differed
most from me was in his being more uniformly
muscled than I. The muscles of his breast were
beautiful, while those of his abdomen were so strong that
they protected the intestines as well as the ribs
protected the lungs. I found that the Marsite boxers
consider it no foul to strike below the belt. The
double curvature of the spine was much more
pronounced in Victorian than in me. I think one of the
most beautiful portions of the Marsite's forms is their
back, while with us, especially with our women, the
back is seldom beautiful. I did not see a case of stoop
shoulders while I was in Mars.
They noticed on me moles, blotches, warts, incipient
cancers, scrofulous pimples, and various other growths
which they said were unknown to the people of Mars.
I have seen persons highly organized, but I do not
think I could imagine human beings more highly
organized than the Marsites.
But this was really only the beginning of the
examination. I was told to don my paraphernalia, for by
this time of course I had adopted the Marsite costume,
and we went into the chapel where all the students
were assembled. When we entered, some one was
playing; the music stopped, whereupon Victorian
stepped forward and introduced me to the students,
telling them that several tests would be made to show
the difference between the Marsites and the people of
Earth.
The first test was in regard to the various organs
we call senses. I was asked to read out of a book
held at various distances, and I found that my eyes
were about half as strong as Victorian's; but you must
remember that his senses had been educated. Then
came the test of smelling. This was very unsatisfactory,
for I could not smell anything the examiner told
me to smell. One test made me laugh; he handed me
a handkerchief and asked me to tell to whom it
belonged, a man or a woman. I was to tell by smelling;
of course I could not. But I found that a Marsite
could go into a darkened room and tell instantly by
smell whether its occupant was a man or a woman.
In one book of poems which I read, a lover praised
the perfume of his sweetheart as we would praise the
perfume of a flower. This may be high development,
but it is decidedly poor taste.
It is use less for me to go into details about the sense
of taste; suffice it to say that they use taste as one of
their most reliable methods of testing substances
chemically. They do not taste a substance, but an
atmosphere of it.
I will risk being tedious by giving an account of the
test of my hearing. It appears that with the Marsites
the ear is a compound organ, not only used in bearing
but for various other purposes, such as hearing gross
sounds, music, and maintaining the equilibrium of
the body, etc. Their tests on me in regard to music
were wonderful. Music with them has been reduced
to a language; I do not mean this figuratively but
literally. They played several pieces of music, but I
could make nothing out of them. I could easily tell
the emotion of a piece, but I could not understand the
exact meaning of the different tones. I could not
read it. What the Marsites have discovered of the
future and the past history of man through music is
marvelous. I never knew what music was until I
visited Mars. To me it was a mystery, its effect on
me an enigma; but now I could see its true function
in the life of man. Music is to the emotions what
speech is to the intellect. Most of love making in
Mars is done by music. But the wonderful thing
about it all is the person who perfected music was a
woman. I believe on Earth we never have had a great
woman composer; and, strange as it may seem, yet
that was the case too in Mars until nearly all the
men had turned their attention to science, thus realizing
that cardinal division of labor in thought which
sex enables man to accomplish. The difference
between the male mind and the female mind has never
been utilized by our philosophers in their endeavor to
understand human nature. All we have today on
Earth is the masculine aspect of life. The fact is the
World Force manifests itself quite differently in the
different sexes. If what the Marsites teach is true
we may in the future expect revelations from woman
that will bring the female sex into high repute. Many
of the higher senses, for example clairvoyance, are
much more highly developed in woman than in man.
The same is true of the senses that preserve offspring.
Fine Art also owes its perfection largely to woman's
emotional nature.
I was next examined in regard to internal senses
but from the fact that the results were mostly negative
necessarily my account of the internal senses
will be incomplete. The sexual sense in me was
pronounced abnormal. I learned from the examiner that
the muscular sense of the Marsites is developed so
that in all common matters of weighing scales are
dispensed with. Hunger and thirst are measured by
a system of gradings as we measure temperature.
When one has (say) sixty degrees of hunger he eats.
This system is applied to all desires and emotions, and
no doubt is beneficial in checking excesses and in
regulating the functions of life.
A scientific system of morals, which is chiefly concerned
with the expenditure of energies, would necessarily
demand some such apparatus. The idea of a
man keeping a debt and credit account of his feelings
and expending energy only when his reason and
conscience tells him to do so is a systematic way of living
repugnant to any one who loves the riotous liberty of
the people of Earth in their expenditure of feelings.
But I will admit what the Marsites say of liberty, viz.,
that true liberty consists only in intelligent action has
some truth in it.
Most of the senses are highly differentiated. Sight
is developed so that personal magnetism can be seen.
This magnetism is the spirits of the Spiritualists.
The sense of taste is so developed that it is impossible
to poison a Marsite. The tongue expels whatever is
injurious to health. Touch has been developed so
that it takes cognizance not only of heat and cold and
ordinary contact, but also makes one a ware of gaseous
changes in the atmosphere. By this sense all germ
diseases were eradicated from Mars.
With the Marsites intuition is a sense. Deceit is
impossible. Every person knows what every other
person thinks of him. Letters between sweethearts
are unnecessary. Though they may be miles apart,
yet nothing goes wrong with one but what the other
knows of it.
All the higher senses in me were found only in a
rudimentary stage. I am satisfied that I do not fully
understand their conception of a sense. It is easy to
see that the five senses preserve the life of the
individual; that other senses secure the life of the
offspring, but that still others secure the life of society is
more difficult of conception. If there were corresponding
terms in English to express the names of these
senses perhaps we would not be so much in the dark.
At the basis of the whole matter is the conception of
the World-Force, the World-Force desires the existence
of the individual and places in him certain senses
whereby this may be accomplished. The same is true
of offspring and of society.
Is there any reasonable explanation why men strive
for posthumous fame? The Marsites say it is to
satisfy a sense which has for its object the preservation
of society. So far as an individual himself is
concerned, why should society exist? Simply to satisfy
other senses that perfect the individual. The real
object of the World-Force is perfect individuality and the
highest sense of the individual is consciousness, or
the World-Force itself in its highest development.
Everything in the universe has but one object, that by
the World-Force in its organised form of mind to know
itself in its unorganised form of phenomenon and
noumenon.
As the mind, when trying to conceive infinite time
and space, stops annoyed and weary, so does the mind
in its endeavor to comprehend the wonderful workings
of the World-Force and these many senses of the Marsites
were of little avail to me.
In this examination I was pretty much like a patient
in the hands of a doctor who is diagnosing a case; this
knowledge obtained from the examination was not for
me but for the examiners; I am sorry I did not in
this case as in almost all others consult some book on
the subject, but I did not, so what I have given must
suffice.
The examiner asked me if I would speak a few
words in English to the students. I complied and
said:
"Young ladies and gentlemen: Your privileges are
wonderful. You should be thankful to the great God
above for having the opportunity to live on such a
planet as Mars, and in such an age as this. Life, to
you, is joy not cursed with hideous monster poverty,
nor confronted with the true Devil — ignorance
and superstition. I compliment you on your good
fortune."
The examiner announced that on the morrow a
certain great teacher would preach at this chapel.
At a signal the students took their departure to
their respective study rooms, and I was left with only
my friends. I told Victorian, if he had no objections,
that I would like to examine some of Mars's poetry, so
it might enable me to understand their music.
He conducted me to the university library, and showed
me the department of books on the Fine Arts, and
then left me to myself.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XIX.
THE FUNCTION OF ART IN A PERFECT CIVILIZATION.
The reader ere this, no doubt, has discovered contradictions
in my statements about the people of Mars.
But as Herbert Spencer in his biology, (all scientists
are alike), in order to show how near he came to
discovering the law of natural selection, yet acknowledging
the inadequacy of his statements as an explanation,
let stand what he wrote about the origin of
species before Darwin's immortal work was written,
so likewise, and for a similar reason, I let stand what
I have written about the Marsites, although I now see
its incompleteness. I do this to show the steps I have
made in my investigations. This is especially true in
regard to what I have had to say about the World-Force.
The Marsites' conception of fine art, and its
interpretation through the World-Force, led me to see
much more fully than I had done before the
importance of a thorough understanding of this great
conception in order to understand the civilization of Mars.
While the Marsites classify the arts into useful art,
high art, and fine art, I will still mention our classification
and not cumber my remarks with obscurities
from my inability to fully comprehend their conception
of art. There are really two kinds of fine art:
one kind that appeals to the intellect, as poetry; and
one that appeals to the emotions, as music. The
object of the first kind is to portray the ideal through
the intellect. The object of the second kind is to
reveal the World-Force through the emotions. Science
studies the World-Force through the senses and the
intellect. Art pictures the World-Force from
inspiration, from emotion, from imagination, from prophecy,
from genius. Science depicts the World-Force as
it is. Art dreams of what the manifestations of the
World-Force will be, and thus supplements Nature
with a coördinate power in realizing the highest form
of all manifestations — the perfect individual. The
artist knows independently of the conditions of knowledge,
and therefore reproduces the World-Force
independently of conditions in its perfect forms of the
beautiful, the true, and the good. Art is a prophecy
which each individual instinctively attempts to realize
in his own life. The artist is only concerned in
picturing the ideal, but to the public nothing is more useful than true art, for it is one of the most potent
factors in perfecting individuality by presenting the race
an ideal of what it can be when it uses all the
materials at hand in developing itself. The object of fine
art to the artist is fine art, but to the race the object
of fine art is to use this perfect creation as a type to
make the real like it. Fine art is the highest form of
the useful.
The artist is a creator. The facts of life are factors
but dimly revealed of a whole which the artist creates
in the laboratory of his imagination and emotions. The
artist is created by the World-Force. He then supplements
the forces which have produced himself, and thus
by consciously directing the World-Force, realizes what
the World-Force could never have realized except
through the assistance of his conscious guidance. Art
is not above Nature, but art itself is a product of
Nature, consciously assisting Nature in reaching her
highest form — perfect individuality.
The benefits of education are so poorly seen that
those who are most in need of it make the least
demand for it. The effect of fine art upon character is
still more obscure. Even philosophers speak of art
for art's sake, as if everything, the universe itself, was
not striving to produce a perfect individual, thus making
the individual the measure of all things. Fine
art, with all its apparent uselessness, is one of the most
useful means of developing the highest trait of
individuality — creative ability. The object of all art
is to create. The object of fine art is to create
the beautiful. The ideal is nothing but what the
artist feels would be the real, but for hampering
conditions. It is but an outline to which Nature
works. The ideal in time becomes the real; in music
it reveals the World-Force directly, thus making music
a language of the emotions commensurate with the
whole race. Fine art is that part of the life of the race
which has been realized in thought, but not in truth.
It is what man could have been or will be. Its power
upon the race, like all the great factors in moral
development, has ever been overlooked.
The reader will no doubt accuse me of being
converted to the Marsites' philosophy, but he will change
his mind after he reads my final experience with
them.
The people of Earth pay little attention to the fine
arts. In fact, the pursuit of art with us is not respectable.
It is more or less disgraceful if one does not
achieve distinction. We look upon an artist as a
high-toned vagabond. We think more of a house painter
than a painter of pictures; more of a stonecutter than
of a sculptor; more of an editor of a newspaper than
of a poet. But this is different on Mars. The people
there praise an ennobling diversion above everything
else, and none being better than the fine arts, they
are carried to a remarkable degree of development.
On Earth the great problem is to live, to get
something to eat. This problem has been solved in Mars,
and the great problem with them is to reach human
perfection, perfect individuality. Life itself has been
reduced to an art. There is not a faculty of the mind
which has not been used as a means to promote human
happiness. When we remember that nearly all the
actions of a human being on Earth are to acquire the
means of physical support, we see the immense
amount of time the people would have if this support.
was guaranteed them. Life then would be like childhood,
and life in Mars is such. The struggle for
existence is the great brutalizer; anything that reduces
this struggle, let it be a diminution of numbers, the
discovery of a perfect food, the development of
humanitarianism, or the changing of the object of life from
a pursuit of material wealth to a pursuit of moral
worth through a just valuation of science and fine
art, will be to man a great civilizer.
I will not give a detailed account of the fine arts in
Mars. I have already mentioned their architecture.
It combines the beautiful and the useful to perfection.
Their statuary is equally fine. The male figure is
rendered in stone without brutality, showing only
intellectuality, an unknown phenomenon on Earth.
Statuary is as common with the Marsites as painting
is with us. Every house has it statues and general
art department.
All artists are scientists. Shadows in pictures fall
at the proper angle. Leaves of plants do not take
unseemly shapes; their coloring is life-like. Most of
the Marsites' decoration, as well as personal ornamentation,
is a contrast of colors in various lights.
What surprised me most in Mars was that all their
great poems have been written by women. On Earth,
as I remarked before, women are inferior as poets,
chiefly on account of a lack of universal sympathy
and liberty in imagination. But, with the great
emancipation in Mars came the emancipation of woman,
and all this was changed. It is readily conceded by
all that woman is a more emotional being than man.
In fact women are reservoirs of racial emotion. The
emotion of religion, of love of the beautiful and the
sublime, have been stored in them for ages; and all
that men possess of these emotions comes from women.
Feeling reaches farther than thought, so woman's
insight into the future, and her unravelment of the past,
both exceed man's.
The Marsites have availed themselves of this
tendency of mind in woman to make a further division
of labor in thought. In order to understand Nature
they take advantage of every one of her variations.
How much better would the people of Earth be if they
would only utilize the thoughts of the most advanced
thinkers? But when woman began to study herself
impersonally, then these great poems were written.
This study of the heart was a kind of study of the
race's memory, for all the race's experience in the past
is recorded in the mind, and with proper care can be
developed into photographic reality. History with
this new source of ideas became a science. The exact
history of man can never be known, but these poets
have felt it. This tracing of ancestral emotions is the
source of most of the great poems of Mars. Such
suggestions of poems we all have had.
Often when standing alone by a brook there has
welled up in my heart some feeling. What? Whence?
Possibly in the remote past my ancestors associated a
brook with some great joy, a gala day, a feast, or the
crossing of a brook was a signal for war; war then
was an ecstatic pleasure. The brook acted as a cue to
call up this residual emotion. Have you not experienced
a similar feeling in regard to something? What
are childrens' games but mimic life of the past? Man
is really an epitome of the race, and if he studies
himself closely, he can divine the history of the race
through himself. This with an adumbration of the
future is the function of poetry in Mars. Poetry and
music have revealed to man as much about Nature as
science has been able to discover.
I have not been able to understand the language of
music, the language of the World-Force, I think
chiefly because of a deficiency in my hearing; but I
will try to give the theory of this language as best I can.
The various notes with their various modifications
have been found to correspond to certain emotions.
These notes when sounded act as cues to call up these
emotions as words act as cues to call up ideas. Now,
the Marsites' music differs from ours in calling up
these emotions in a harmonious manner. Any music
will arouse emotion — that is one of the things which
makes it music — but the Marsites' music arouses
emotion in such a way that it can be understood as present
emotion is understood. As a supplement to their
language of the intellect, it is of incalculable benefit.
I trust that some of the musicians of Earth will take
the meager suggestions I have made, as to the
possibilities of this emotional language and work it out. The
Marsites claim that all the institutions of the past, in
regard to the exercise of the passion of love, were made
for man's accommodation; but those of the present are
made to suit woman's nature. I see from this book I
have been examining that in the past they treated
love pretty much as we do today. According to the
Marsites the passion of love is much stronger in
women than in men; in fact, they say that what is
sometimes a symptom of disease in man is a chronic
malady in woman. Man's love is treated with
contempt, while woman's love is thought to be sublime.
The philosophy regulating the passion of love, being
all in the favor of women, there are cases wherein men
are imposed upon. I was badly treated in regard to
Victoria, and if we were on Earth, I am sure through
some motive of policy, such as her want of a home,
her fear of being an old maid, etc., that I could have
forced her into marrying me.
This treatment of male lovers is the object of
ridicule with the Marsites. And this leads me to speak
of one other branch of fine arts — the stage.
The drama in Mars has made progress commensurate
with everything else. The play I read was a
comedy. In Mars the more inferior a man is the more
susceptible he is to passion. The play I read had this
idea for its plot; and it was very funny. The hero
was always falling in love, which invariably ended in
thoughts of suicide; but when he was on the point of
taking his life, he was always stopped by some good
angel of a woman, who, in turn, became the object of
another love, and then followed other attempts at
suicide ad infinitum.
I find that the stage with the Marsites is, especially
on its classic side, not only a reproduction in mimic
of the past and a picture of the present, but also an
anticipation of the future. I have promised myself
the treat of seeing one of Mars's classic plays, after
which I shall be pleased to give you an account of it.
The Marsites' conception of the novel is no doubt
what the great American novel will be — the utilization
of the facts of life for filling matter instead of
the fictions of the past and the present. Such a novel
with us now, no matter how artistic or ideal it may be,
would be classed as a novel with a purpose. To use
in the construction of a story that which has always
been taught is deemed artistic, but to use the new
philosophy, no matter how true it is, is deemed inartistic.
This necessarily makes the novel treat of the past,
but in Mars it is different. There the novel has the
history, the life, and the destiny of man for its field.
The novelist portrays the ideal as revealed to him by
the real. He as an artist is only concerned with this,
but he unconsciously assists the real which is to be to
become the ideal which is portrayed.
As a sample of the artistic dissipation of love,
which is a high art, I will give a conversation I had
with Victorian on that subject. I asked him for an
example of the artistic dissipation of love. He said:
"The artistic dissipation of love differs from the
natural form of dissipation (animal passion) by making
love build up the individual instead of the race.
Love in the form of animal passion is a blind desire
which leads the individual to gratification, thus
producing the race at the expense of the individual. The
trouble with undeveloped human beings is they do
not know all the self-producing forces of their natures,
nor do they try to discover them; neither do they turn
the forces they do understand to self-producing
purposes, and still worse they make no effort to resist the
self-destroying forces or try to discover any of them.
Love artistically dissipated develops individuality;
love dissipated in the form of animal passion is the
chief force in the destruction of individuality.
"The lover who walks miles to look at the lighted
window of the one he loves, sighs, and then retraces
his steps satisfied, dissipates his love artistically.
Such a dissipation of love ennobles one, elevates one,
sustains one. The girl who listens for the footfalls of
one she loves, listens till he passes by, then rests in
sweet sleep, dissipates love artistically. Such a love
inspires her songs, her smiles, her sunny life. The
father who puts his hand on his baby boy's head and
calls him a little man; and the mother who admires
her grown-up son and tells him how he looked when a
babe, both dissipate love artistically. The lover who
holds his sweetheart's hand, or the girl who arranges
her lover's hair, dissipates love artistically. Husbands
and wives who touch hands when they meet, who
always look into each other's eyes when they speak, who
kiss when they part, love artistically.
"The artistic dissipation of love is the realization of
that conception of happiness which says that pursuit is
more of a pleasure than possession, for complete
gratification is never obtained; it cannot be obtained. The
artistic dissipation of love seldom permits of kissing
and embracing.
"Love artistically dissipated makes life full of
light, full of joy, full of purpose. One cannot be
unhappy when love is in the heart, and the artistic
dissipation of love fills the heart with love instead of
emptying it."
"Do you think the people of Earth could be satisfied
with this artistic dissipation of love?" I asked.
"Your women could. The dissipation of love in the
form of animal passion, so prevalent among the men
of Earth, is but another example of the fact that the
men of Earth go to excess in the gratification of
almost every desire. In this they are controlled by
superstition and custom. When they reach the age
of reason and conscience this will be changed."
I give this conversation for what it is worth. So
far as I am concerned I am very well satisfied with
our own customs and only wish that I was so placed
as to live up to them.
I wish, before visiting Mars, I had learned more
about the fine arts on Earth; then possibly I might
have been able to tell our artists more of what they
would like to know about Mars, but what I have given
must suffice for the present.
One difficulty in writing this journal has always
been before me, that is, my need of a universal
knowledge. This is nowhere better illustrated than
in this chapter; but then this journal by no means
aims to be either technical or exhaustive in its treatment
of the various subjects considered.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XX.
A SERMON TO CHILDREN.
I see, if I continue to follow the narrative form in
this journal, that I shall become tedious. The next
few days were full of incidents, which I would like to
speak of at once, but from this on I shall arrange my
topics to suit my convenience, instead of how I
experienced what I write about.
In Mars there is no church, at least no institution
by that name, yet in their history I find the word
"xasixas," which, literally translated, is "church,"
quite frequently. Three hundred years before the
time of my visit the function of the church was
divided among several classes of society: the teachers,
the artists, the literati, the philosophers, and the
scientists. This latter class is almost like our
theologians of to-day. However, we should not confound
them with the philosophers or inventors. The scientist
has for his work the guardianship of public morals.
While I am a loyal churchman, yet, in the absence of
revelation, I will say that I can think of no system of
morals that could be better than this system taught
by the scientists of Mars.
The scientists grew out of the old priest class. In
fact, their function is the same, only they have
changed their doctrines. This change took place
insensibly, and had gone on for several generations
before any philosopher arose to point it out. Gradually
one after another the old superstitious doctrines were
dropped and scientific truths taken up, until all that
was preached was a system of morals based on science,
instead of a system of immorals based on foolish
myths.
The strangest thing of all is, these preacher-scientists
occasionally use their ancient mythological
books for texts. These books are still held in
reverence as literary works, yet no one follows their
teachings, which, if carried out to the letter in a
civilized country, would be more than barbarous. They
even say that the books were never meant to be
taught literally. After this examination I was
anxious to hear one of these scientist-preachers.
Victorian told me that on the following day I could
have the honor of taking his boy to hear the sermon
at the university. The Marsites are up to a trick or
two in the education of children. The time to teach
religion is in youth; if left to manhood, like some
children's diseases, it does not take; but I see this is a
very inappropriate figure of speech.
This lecturer, or priest, or scientist, or all three
combined, spoke in the assembly room of the university.
It was crowded. I presume every child in the
city came out to hear him. The music was exquisite.
A poem was chanted by the choir. It was the story
of a man who had been martyred for teaching
unaccepted doctrines. It was sad beyond expression, for
the very doctrines the man had been martyred for
were the same the present speaker was teaching. It
seemed to me that I had heard the story before. No
doubt it was from some of our poets. I found many
things alike in our two worlds; possibly they had
plagiarized from us.
After the poem there was a moment's recess, and
every one assumed the most comfortable position
possible; then the preacher stepped forward and began:
"I wish to invite your attention to a few aspects of
morality as they have manifested themselves in the
past. We, who live in this advanced age, are apt to
think that our race has always been blessed by holding
its destiny in its own hands; but it is not so.
There was a time in our history, only a few centuries
ago, when man was as much a slave to his conditions
as any of his brother animals are today. But
with the rise of science the emancipation, the orientation,
and the enfranchisement came. In the past
human nature was thought to be perverted, fallen,
and altogether lost. To us this looks incredible.
There has been but one change: Man in the past was
controlled by his conditions, while today he controls.
his conditions.
"Once water was a great evil, but now we control it.
Storms on the ocean are things of the past. We maintain
that equilibrium of plant life, the planet over,
which is a guarantee of the equilibrium of the
elements. Once so simple a thing as fire was a great
evil. Its inconsiderate use was very destructive to
our atmosphere, but a restriction of its function to
purely chemical uses has taken it from the domain
of necessary evils and made it wholly good. You
should remember that before we used stored sunlight
for heating, fire was the only thing we had for that
purpose. Once Mars was subject to great atmospheric
storms. The equilibrium of the atmosphere was not
maintained, as it is now by our appliances which
regulate its use and reproduction, and great storms.
were the result. Once there were earthquakes; people
were driven wild with fear; but you know that with
our artificially constructed divisions of land and water,
there can be none now. Once the planet was covered
with millions of noxious plants and animals; man was
preyed upon by all of these; disease was a common
thing; but all this is of the past, and there is not a
plant or an animal which does not administer to our
wants. You see, my friends, that out of these dire
physical conditions man with intelligence has evolved
good. When physical conditions controlled man, both.
the conditions and man were bad; but when man
controls them they are both good.
"Once our astronomy was astrology; our chemistry
was alchemy; our physiology was in the hands of
quacks; our government was run by demagogues; our
morals by knaves, fanatics, and bigots. There is
but one great difference between now and then: then
conditions controlled man, now man has control of all
mundane conditions.
"The same is true of human nature. When human
nature was a thing to be played upon by every force,
it was evil; but today, when every force is subservient
to it, it is good. This is the regeneration prophesied
by our poets in the remote past; this the new birth;
this the millennium!
"We who live today do not know what starvation is.
Suppose the persons you loved with all your heart
depended on you for existence, and your own existence
depended on your ability to labor for some one who
cared no more for you than for a machine, because, if
you did not serve him as one of our field machines
serves us, he would become involved in ruin and suffer
as you suffer; suppose your life depended on everything
else except on your own will to live; suppose
your main condition of life was slavery? Do you
think you would have a good nature? Don't you
think human nature under such conditions would
naturally be thought execrable? I don't doubt it. Of
course, human nature was bad; however, its cause of
badness was not innate, but brought about from
abnormal conditions.
"In human nature of today what have we? My
friends, the human heart is the true standard by which
everything is to be measured. Man has been developed
by a series of changes that have occurred on our
planet; each of these changes has stamped itself
indelibly upon our nature; and our essential condition
of life and development has been fitness to live. We
can hope to better our lives only by developing our
natures, and not by trying to pervert them as the old
fanatics used to teach. Human nature is essentially
good, and as we have made all external conditions
contribute to human development, we should now conquer
all the internal ones. Living life as we do where the
struggle for existence has been reduced to a minimum,
where we have grown beyond the tyranny of bodily
passion, the greatest evil we have to contend with is
ignorance. Always remember that, if our educational
institutions were to cease operation for one generation,
we should sink into abject barbarism. Let us all
again today renew our devotion to truth, and its
perfect dissemination, for upon this everything depends."
At this point I fell into a peaceful slumber, just as
naturally as if I were at home in my own pew. I
learned from Claud that at this point in the sermon the
minister discussed character development from the
standpoint of scientific morals. I am sorry I did not
hear him. In Mars character is deemed as much a
product of education as intelligence is. The application
of intelligence to the expenditure of the various
energies of our bodies was a subject I wished to hear
discussed. Claud did not seem to care to enlighten
me. All he said was:
"The most important thing in making a success of
life is for one to understand one's own individuality —
one's heart's desire. This cannot be known from
consciousness, but must be discovered from the effect the
defeat or success of our various desires has upon our
character. Often that which we think we want most
is that which we want least. In the past persons lived
to be fifty or sixty years of age before they discovered
that what they had been striving for was not what
they wanted. Disappointment and remorse is inevitable
in such a life. If one observes the adumbrations
of the World-Force in one's self as revealed through
defeat and success, it will be an easy matter to
determine one's genius and also the best means of
developing it, and thus realizing one's highest ideal."
I give this for what it is worth. When I listened to
the minister again he was saying:
"Morality is a matter of feeling, and does not have
to be realized in acts to influence character. In the
past many of the persons who inveighed against sin
were the greatest sinners in the true sense of the
word. Those who know so much of evil generally
know some of it from experience — mental if not
physical. It is foolishness to show a child the right
and also the wrong way. When to know of sin is
sin, ignorance is a virtue. Even in the past this great
truth was known, and it is the reason why children
then were not taught all the functions of their bodies.
But ignorance is never a virtue when intelligence is
necessary to the proper performance of a function.
With us this is all settled. Our morality is based on
science. There is no act of our lives that is not
hedged in by its reasoned methods. We can't go
wrong on account of our light; and we don't want to
go wrong on account of our natures being completely
satisfied with our morality. The fault of the morality
of the past was, it neither satisfied one's nature nor
supplied a means whereby one's nature could be
brought more into conformity to the moral standard.
One had to sin to expend useless energy."
I couldn't help but remark that this certainly was
the philosophy of swearing.
"A child born into the world today is not left to the
tender mercies of fate, or the precarious sentiment of
kinship; but is cared for through the social organism
by being taught its true functions so that it can always
realize its highest ideal, live its true destiny. The
misery that must have existed in the past when one
could be born, live, and die utterly regardless of his
fellow man must have been incalculable. All that
man then had to guide him were his instincts,
individual intelligence, and his distorted feelings. With
no reasoned adjustment of man to society, I do not
blame the wisest man in the world then for saying:
'Ours is the worst possible of worlds.'
"As soon as man learned that he lived but to realize
an ideal, the problem of morals was stated; and when
he discovered that the only guide to the realization of
this ideal was to be found within his own nature, in
theory, the problem was solved. The highest dictum
of philosophy is: Know thyself. The highest dictum
of art is Realize thyself.
"I am your teacher, and those of you who from
youth do not know the next step in the building of
your characters, can consult me at any time, and I will
cite you to means whereby you can place yourselves
in perfect harmony with society, and thus fill your
niche in life. It is difficult for an inexperienced
person to regulate the study of science, the pursuit of the
Fine Arts, etc. (the external means to morality), so
that his character will develop as uniquely as it should.
I will not go into details in regard to the internal
means of morality, for example, success and love, for
I am not concerned with them; besides they come late
in life and are not applied constantly to one's self as
the external means are."
At this point I took my second nap. How long I
slept I am unable to state, but when I awoke the
minister was saying:
"Human life, unless regulated by intelligence, is
always miserable. Intellect has been evolved by the
World-Force for the express purpose of harmonizing
natural phenomena, so that there will be no conflict,
but a moving equilibrium of forces which in the case
of man results in perfect individuality, perfect
happiness."
"In the past man, in the expenditure of all his feelings,
let them be pleasurable or painful, was like a
spendthrift who lives only for the present. If every
side of a person's nature be developed, and every feeling
be expended intelligently, critically, happiness is
as inevitable as the action of a natural law. But if
man develops only a part of his nature, dissipates his
feelings regardless of consequences, misery always
follows. We know a complicated piece of machinery
will not perform its function unless each and every
part is properly formed and adjusted, and the proper
amount of force is expended upon it; yet man, the
most complex of all machines, was once expected to
perform his true function in life without any preparation.
The sooner you find out that you make your
own life, that the race makes its own life, the sooner
will your life be reduced to scientific principles. In
the past persons who thought themselves great so
expended the love of fame that it broke their hearts.
Then half of human life was made miserable on
account of ignorant hopes. The inartistic use of love
makes of it more of a curse than a boon. Religion,
through ignorance, was once so blended with fear that
it was superstition instead of a conscious knowledge
of what has produced the race. The purpose of
intelligence is to discover the purpose of life and to
assist Nature in realizing it. But the first thing
intelligence should do is to perfect itself for the object of
life is perfect individuality, and the highest faculty of
the individual is intelligence. So the basis of morals
is intelligence. Sin is an illogical act, for whatever is
reasonable is pleasurable, and whatever is pleasurable
is right."
What the minister said next was lost by me, for I
let my mind wander in a train of thought about my
being in Mars. I was of Earth, and what good could
this scientific system of morals do me, especially when
Earth had a better system revealed directly from God?
Mars's morals no doubt are good, and I find no fault
with them in the absence of revelation; and as I did
not feel called upon to preach to this people, I
concluded the best thing for me to do was to attend to my
own business and let them attend to theirs.
I came to myself as the minister closed with these
remarks:
"The World-Force is blind. Man's existence cannot
be otherwise than miserable when controlled alone
by it, hence civilization means nothing but reasoned
action. Reason is a light created by the World-Force
to guide and control itself — better reason is the
World-Force leading the World-Force. The greatest sin is
ignorance, for it is the cause of all wrong-doing. The
faculty of the mind that cannot be otherwise than
honest is the intellect, and when it controls life right
conduct invariably results."
I felt in my pocket for a coin for the contribution
box; but then thoughts of where I was flashed upon
me, and for the first time I was homesick.
When Claud and I reached his home Victorian told
me that on the morrow he would be compelled to visit
the capital of Mars, and that I could accompany him,
if I wished to do so. I was only too glad of the
opportunity.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XXI.
GOVERNMENT IN MARS.
Naturally I expected to find at Dahsentogmu, the
capital of Mars, everything in the very highest state
of perfection, but I was sadly disappointed. I am
convinced that the people of Dahsentogmu, though claiming
to be the most highly civilized, are the lowest in
the scale of development on Mars. I observed this as
soon as I reached the city. The officials are a most
despicable type of men — vain, egotistic, or sycophantic.
Contrary to the rest of the people of Mars, they
thought one great from the position one occupied. I
was introduced to the President. Victorian treated him
as a child whom one would not wish to disillusionize.
The President seemed to think that the civilization of
Mars would cease to be if he did not by messages call
it into existence. A thousand departments of life,
with which he had not the remotest thing to do, he
pretended to believe were fully in his power for weal
or woe. I observed that he knew nothing but the
routine of his office; yet all who came in contact with
him were careful to keep their contempt for him
concealed. I cannot but believe that he himself knew of
his impotency.
About one-tenth of the people of Mars take a part
in government. They are mostly conservatives who
know that government is perfectly useless, but from a
kind of reverence for the past support it from a sense
of duty. They say: "If it does no good it does no
harm, and as it was once a safeguard it is best to
maintain it." Others participate in government for
pastime, as among us certain of our number enjoy a day
now and then in the savage sport of hunting and fishing,
thus reverting to the predatory stage of civilization.
Still others, chiefly the inferior elements of
society, indulge in governmental pursuits, because they
are fitted to their inferior natures. As they cannot
lead in any other department of life, they prefer
to be a big dog in this superannuated institution
rather than be a fyst in some more honorable
calling. The educated people of Mars have long
ago learned that government instead of advancing
the race has almost always retarded its
advancement; that what conscious progress man has
made has not been made through government, but
in spite of it; that, if any progress has resulted from
government, it has been the work of one political
party to spite another. The real work of reform was
accomplished by the philosophers, scientists, artists,
and teachers. Since the Age of Government, now past
two or three hundred years, when government was in
the hands of scientists, it has become a respectable
nuisance — as some superstitious sects of religion now
are on Earth.
Dahsentogmu was a great place for society, but it,
too, was degenerated, or rather undeveloped. There
women cried out for the old laws and customs which
made human nature a field for superstition; and yet
the persons who demanded conformity to the laws
always acted in opposition to them. Such horribly
deluded people I have never seen outside of Dahsentogmu.
Their abject misery from living life in
opposition to what they know to be right, because error
was respectable, was horrible to look upon.
While the philosophers say that all law is innate
or connate with human nature, and that true civil
law like natural law executes itself, yet these governmental
employés cannot see their uselessness. At the
time I visited Mars no laws were being repealed. In
the past, on Mars some of their most bitter wars were
over the repealing of laws which were practically inoperative. The Marsites found that the best way to
get rid of a law was to let it die in silence and
contempt, for every law was upheld by superstition which
ever and anon could be aroused when it was least
expected.
I was anxious to know how it was that social art
usurped the functions of government. I made an
examination of history on that subject; I found it a
matter of evolution. Government fell into disrepute
because people ceased to use it. Individuals began
competing with it in every way. Intelligent
coöperation took the place of State control. With the
increase of confidence in the individual came a
decrease of confidence in irresponsible government, for
all governments are perfectly irresponsible. The
function which government yielded last was that of
coining money; but when it was found that of all
forms of material wealth the most absurd, the most
superstitious, was that of money, it was no longer
prized or sought after. Its power in Mars is now
wondered at, as a man on Earth now wonders at the value
he formerly set upon his childish playthings. We look
upon the money of savages in this light. The value
of money is wholly imaginary. In Mars every joy of
life is purchased with intelligence. Intellectual action
is the law of Nature. Intellect makes man a god to
control and use to his advantage the universe. Brains
are money in Mars.
According to the conservation and correlation of
forces, the brain in man changes the forces of Nature
into intellectual energy, which becomes so great a
factor in the production of phenomena that it is considered
a first cause. Nature without man produces
phenomena by blind forces — produces man himself —
but when the human reaches autonomy and guides and
controls natural forces, then perfect phenomena are
realized. Man is a finite god, controlling, guiding and
using all the natural forces about him. Natural
phenomena are imperfect, because a perfect equilibrium
between the antagonistic forces of Nature cannot be
reached except through the guidance of organized
mind as in man. Nature realizes her ideas only
approximately, but with the assistance of man she reaches
perfection. Through intelligence man becomes
perfectly in harmony with Nature; through it man
becomes great enough to control all of Nature which
pertains to his own life, and only through intelligence
can man realize freedom, for the laws of Nature are
but intelligent action. The Marsites, knowing all this,
readily yielded other methods of control to it.
I will not stop to show the impracticability of this.
Mars, at one time like Earth, now was made up of
several nations. These nations were given to war, or
as the Marsites put it, were subject to attacks of atavism;
that is, returning to barbaric methods of settling
disputes. Business interests among the upper classes
and common sense among the people dispensed with
all warfare. If the States had a dispute it was settled
by a civil tribunal — the same as a dispute between
individuals. For example: during our civil war, had it
occurred in Mars, the Marsites would have settled it
by calling in a nation from Europe, one from Asia, and
letting these two nations select a third from South
America. The Marsites in the past made their treaties
of peace before the war instead of after it.
Following this came control of national and
international affairs by business exclusively. Government
is very expensive. In order not to pay this expense.
in the shape of fees, people ceased to use government,
especially when it neither secured property nor
protected life. For example: people bought and sold real
estate the same as personal property; made marriage
relations the same as any other relation — just stopped
using government, and it fell into innocuous desuetude.
In order that taxes might be done away with,
office-holders were paid in honor, and as money was
taken out of government, interest in it was lost.
People ceased to go to law for justice, because they never
got it. Instead of going to law they left their
dispute to the common sense of a committee of persons
selected by the litigants. This involved no expense
and always gave satisfaction.
Government protects material wealth, but when
material wealth is no longer desired, then that form
of control which secures intellectual wealth is adopted.
This is nothing but intelligence.
Society in Mars is held together by humanitarianism.
The mutual exchange of scientific and artistic
productions brings about a solidarity much stronger
than that of self-interest which held good in the past.
Government is perfectly useless. It has no more
power in Mars now than Polytheism had in ancient
Rome or — well, I will not make the comparison.
So long as the human race on Earth is controlled
by blind social forces, the desires — avarice, ambition,
vice, etc — just so long will government be necessary,
for government is nothing but force regulating force,
but when intelligence controls the social forces then
government will be perfectly useless. The civilization
of Earth is on par with the intelligence of man,
and as it increases will governmental control diminish.
To abolish government to-day (an utter impossibility,
for no sooner would one government be abolished
than another would take its place, and nine
times out of ten a worse one) and leave the race without
any controlling power, neither intelligence nor
force, atavism would naturally result. So far the
progress of humanity has been in cycles, simply
because the race at no time has reached a sufficient
intelligence to apply it to its own advancement, and
thus supplement natural progress with artistic progress.
Whether this will be accomplished in this present
age or not, the future will show. It may be
possible that another retrogression like the one the race
suffered during the Dark Ages will result before the
triumph of intelligence. However, the signs of the
times indicate the triumph of intellect over force and
the perfection of the race through the perfection of
the individual.
I will explain at the end of the chapter why I say
this and what follows.
The chief difference between the people of Mars and
the people of Earth is one of philosophy. (I mean by
philosophy a conception of life, a working theory of
existence.) The basis of a man's life is his philosophy,
and if this be erroneous his life necessarily will
be a failure. The human race on Earth today no
more lives a reasoned philosophy than a savage does.
It is in the transitional stage between animal life and
artistic life. Man is born an animal with animal
desires, which suffice for guides, with external help from
parents, till the age of puberty, but by the time the
intellect should be sufficiently developed to take
control the desires are so abnormally developed and the
intellect so beclouded by superstition that advancement
is made only in infinitesimal increments.
Intellectual shame ought to make people live more
reasonable lives than they live. However, nothing will
make people live according to the dictates of reason
but a scientific proof that such a life is the only life
in which happiness can be secured. So long as it
is believed that error in any form whatever can
produce happiness in any form whatever, so long will
error find advocates who will justify themselves on
the grounds that the means justify the end. The hope
for the future advancement of the race depends upon
getting it to adopt the scientific conception of life, and
thus changing its motives. Half of the depravity of
human nature consists in erroneous views of life, the
other half in ignorance.
Now I am ready for the promised explanation.
Well, you see I've been preaching again; but with a
purpose. Don't think the Marsites have converted
me to their view of life. No, no. I feel proud to
follow in the footsteps of Sir Isaac Newton, Immanuel
Kant, Louis Agassiz, and the Rev. Joseph Cook — all
devoted advocates of our civilization. If the reader
will pardon me for weakness, I will state that the
foregoing paragraphs were written with the purpose
of reading them to Victoria! I would not change my
philosophy or religion to win any woman; but all is
fair in love and war, and here in America we add
business and politics.
Victorian's object in going to the capital of Mars
was to consult some documents in regard to some of
the ancient prejudices of the Marsites.
There were many things at Dashentogmu, no doubt,
if I could mention them, that would be of interest to
you. The city was small compared with many of our
cities of the United States; but it was beautifully laid
out. The streets were dust proof, the water works
were made of glass. This was not only beautiful, but
I learned that it was a preventive against disease.
The sewerage of the city was conducted to the river
through non-porous pipes. The houses were mostly
of the new architecture, but there were a few, which
were governmental buildings, of the old style. Most
of the books of the government were also got up in
the old style. It seemed that the government was
behind the age in everything. The city machines for
transport were beautiful and very efficient.
Victorian, having transacted his business, started
for his home and I accompanied him. I must confess
that I was exceedingly glad to think that I was soon
to see Victoria.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XXII.
SCIENTIFIC LOVE-MAKING.
I trust that the heading of this chapter, and for that
matter the headings of other chapters in this journal,
will not bring upon me the unjust charge of doing
what most authors do in their books, viz., title the
chapters so as to catch the eye of the careless observer
of books at the bookstores in order to inveigle him
into buying a book which, under legitimate circumstances,
he would not buy. I trust you will not deem
a scientist guilty of the ruse of a penny-a-liner. With
this explanation, I hope you will not be disappointed
in the chapter.
I have not had anything to say about my love affair
for the last few chapters, but it is the all-important
thing now, for it determined my future on Mars. I,
above all men, deplore the utter duplicity that
attends earthly love-making; yet I still more abhor the
Marsites' custom. It is candor that reaches cruelty.
I found this truth when I again pressed my suit with
Victoria. If I were to live a thousand years, I shall
never forget what she said to me, nor what I felt at
the cruelty of her words.
I had called on her, full of determination to know
my fate, yet I could not picture my rejection, nor could
I picture any other result. In general I have found
that what we can picture as happening to us in the
future is the thing most likely to occur. I exhausted
my imagination on this point, yet to no avail.
Victoria was in the reception room when I called.
We chatted for a while, and she seemed to be much
interested in my appreciation of the institutions of Mars.
I read to her passage after passage of this journal. I
was surprised to see how much it is tinged with the
extravagant philosophy of Mars. She seemed to be
well pleased with what I had to say of Mars and its
people, remarking that persons perceived in
proportion to their perceptive powers as they realized
in proportion to their opportunities. This was one of the
happiest moments of my life — to have the good, the
true, and the beautiful personified in a woman and to
have that woman before you — to worship! No pen
can portray my feelings! They were like that grand
music which comes to all of us when standing in the
presence of the sublime — a music which none but
genius can record.
I could not divine what was passing in Victoria's
heart. She looked at me a moment as if she wished
to express a hope, then said:
"If it were so you could live in Mars a year instead
of a month, the full import of our civilization would
gradually dawn upon you."
We interpret every fact, experience, thought, or feeling
in terms of our hope. We know very little but
what we want to know; we see very little but what
we want to see; we are nothing but what we want
to be. I saw in this remark of Victoria's a wish,
delicately couched in ambiguous language, that I
might remain forever in Mars. But was that her
meaning? Hope said it was. This gave me
encouragement, for heretofore I had felt like an alien, but
now I thought myself a native citizen. I was careless,
as free from embarrassment as ever I have been in all
my life. This led Victoria to be free with me or as I
thought to encourage me. If it is possible to deceive
a Marsite I think I deceived her.
You who have followed me thus far in this journal
will know (but those who nave skipped from chapter
VII to the present chapter will have to take my word
for it) that I have learned a great deal about the
emotion of love. But one of the characteristics of a
love-sick person is not to profit by knowledge, but to make
love without method or order. I proved no exception
to the rule.
About half of love is imagination. This is one of
the reasons why lovers, when married and brought
in contact with the facts of love, find an almost
complete abatement of it. From the time I started for
Victorian's home, from that moment my one thought
was of Victoria. The only objection to travel as a
cure for love is that it would necessitate one to keep
going always — about as great an embarrassment as
love itself unless one would travel from planet to
planet. When we arrived at Victorian's home and
dismounted from our car, my love according to
measurement by the "gasinnasi," the instrument used in
measuring feelings, registered one hundred and
twenty "watih." One hundred and thirty watih
always produce some passionate action; ninety watih is
a normal love, the marking the artistic dissipation of
love always registers. Despite this my composure
was phenomenal when I pressed my suit with Victoria
in the following language:
"Victoria, I do not like to force matters, but I wish
to ask you, if you have fully considered the proposition
I formerly made you? I have learned enough about
Mars to know that with you Marsites love is as much a
matter of investigation as anything else in life. What
is your opinion of the facts in our case?"
I see now that this is no more than a miserable
travesty on a scientific proposition of marriage. It is
more of a business form, like those used by the upper
classes on Earth, wherein tax receipts, titles, and Church
and State relations figure conspicuously with proxies
and red-tape enough to strangle Love if he were a
grown man instead of a wanton boy with nothing but
an archaic weapon, a rude bow and arrow, with which
to defend himself and the kingdom of love.
But Victoria's reply was perfectly scientific. I
determine this deductively, Victoria herself was
perfectly scientific; therefore, whatever she would do
would be perfectly scientific.
"You ask me a plain question," said she, "and I will
give you a plain answer, for I have fully considered
the facts. If I were devoid of philanthropy, of racial
reverence, of duty to my better self, I might, from pity
and a strange fascination, which comes from the novelty
of your being from another world, think of marrying
you; but as you know, while we, above all people, feel
that the individual is the object of Nature, and of
social art, and, above all beings, is the freest, yet all
the better promptings of the race, which are so richly
lodged within a woman's breast, tell me to desist, to
say to you, no, once and forever!"
No pen can describe my feelings. Her speech was
not only the death knell to my hope, but also to my
vaunted racial superiority. I felt that I was no more
worthy of this woman than a rude Hottentot would be
of a Caucasian princess. Nothing but utter disappointment
possessed my soul. I needed no argument to
convince me of the justness of her decision, and the
nobleness of her sacrifice to her better nature.
What occurred for the next few moments I am
unable to state. When I came to myself I was acting
like a disappointed child by making some of the most
foolish reproaches; while Victoria was greatly shocked
on account of my unusual behavior. Nothing, I
imagine, could produce more discord in her nature than
my conduct. If some great and unexpected accident
had happened to her, she would not have been any
more disconcerted. What she said or did I cannot
say. For a second time I lost consciousness. When
I came to myself I was filled with the most abject
humiliation ever experienced by man. The interview
ended by my rushing out of the room like one escaping
from some great danger. But I could not escape
from my heartache. My feeling of weakness, of
inferiority, of lack of justification for everything I had
done brought me almost to suicide.
What Victoria felt I have no means of knowing. After
a few hours of agony, I reached a settled condition of
misery, which I felt would be my final state. If there
be a hell, I had found it; and it was nothing more nor
less than an illumination of my own inferiority in
comparison with a superior being. It seemed to me
that I would not have been so foolish had I not been
so pretentious in my relations to this person — I dare
not even now write her name.
That night Victorian came to me. I never knew the
pleasure of human association till then. He seemed
to share my sorrow. She must have disclosed all to
him, yet at the time I did not suspect it. He proposed
to me the exploration of space off in the direction of
Neptune for an asteroid supposed to contain several
of the rarer metals which he thought would be of
great benefit to both Earth and Mars. I readily
acceded to his plans, for in this I found the first relief
from my misery. Never before did Victorian show
me so much attention. In his presence I always had
felt that he displayed his superiority too much, but
now that was absent. It is useless to state all that
passed in regard to this asteroid, for I soon saw that
Victorian was but giving me a gentle hint that it
would be best for me to leave Mars and return to
Earth. And strange as it may seem, yet I did not
think of doing so. I was like the silly moth (Leucarctia
acrea) which flies about a flame until burnt to death,
for unrequited love is such a flame. I decided not to
leave Mars. I felt it an impossibility. I could more
easily commit suicide than leave her forever! My
silence to Victorian's further conversation must have
led him to see what I thought. Reading me like a
book he abruptly said:
"My
sister wishes you to go."
"She does? Very well," said I. "This is my first
experience in love, but I know enough about love not to
receive commands at second hand. The principals
alone should speak."
Victorian laughed.
"I know this much," I continued; "no outside party
shall ever settle my fate in any love affair. If your
sister does not wish to receive my attentions, she
certainly will tell me so." (I was standing upon my
dignity, as you see). "If she wants me to leave Mars,
she will certainly tell me so herself!" I said this with
angry emphasis.
Victorian made no reply. All he said was: "Come
with me and I will show you our apparatus for
interplanetary navigation."
Reluctantly I followed him.
I saw my fondest hopes fade, the uselessness of my
hypocrisy in regard to Mars's philosophy, and felt life
as it was, without any of the cushions of conventionality
between me and its hard facts. My thoughts
were bitter. I wish, before I write another line, to
recant all adherence to Mars's civilization, to abjure
every concession in its favor, and to state my firm faith
in Earth and earthly institutions. I would blot out
every line of praise of the Marsites, but for the fact
that this is a journal, and one to be scientific must be
impartial to his experiences.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE TREATMENT OF CRIMINALS IN MARS.
The Marsites are certainly superior to us in invention
of machinery. Incidentally I have referred to
this before, but my examination of this interplanetary
apparatus now renewed my impression. I thought my
apparatus a marvel, and judged in the light of Earthly
inventions, it is; but it is as inferior to the Marsites'
apparatus as Watt's engine is to a modern locomotive.
The Marsites' interplanetary apparatus provides for
all the contingencies of a voyage. Instead of having
one ship, or balloon, they have from five to fifteen,
depending on the length of the voyage. All these ships
do not hold out through a voyage; some are destroyed
by meteors, and other accidental happenings. The
chief wonder about my voyage was that I had
succeeded in making it with but one ship, yet the Marsites'
interplanetary travel began in the same way.
Their cars, too, are a great improvement on mine,
being composed of their transparent building-material
made in sections, so that, if a section is destroyed
by a meteor, the occupant can detach it by closing a
partition. The top of the car is protected by a
metallic dome, proof against all descending missiles.
Immediately under this dome is the occupant's place.
Their ships are made to accommodate from two to ten
persons. The Marsites visit heavenly bodies that have
no atmospheres, land, and make explorations, and still
not endanger life. This is done by providing
themselves with rubber suits connected with their ships.
Victorian informed me that the per cent of deaths
resulting from interplanetary travel is about the same
as that in railroad travel here on Earth.
Several of the inhabitants of Mars had taken up
residences on the adjacent asteroids; in fact, when
any of its citizens become dissatisfied with Mars, or
persist in living a life not up to the highest civilization,
they are at once transported to some asteroid.
From my experience in Mars I am convinced that of
all the evils in our civilization the greatest comes from
an ununiform development. Some are too highly
developed, while others are miserably undeveloped. I
shall give my plans for remedying this in a future
work; but not to hold the reader in suspense I will
say that I shall present a three-fold solution — industrial,
esthetic, and scientific — to correspond to man's
three-fold nature of desires, emotions, and intellect.
By making our industrial system one of voluntary
coöperation, thus placing man above his conditions, the
struggle for existence will cease; by reducing all
creeds, philosophies, beliefs, superstitions, and systems
of thought to the one system of scientific truth, artistic
and scientific education will be practicable; by a
proper development of man's esthetic nature, the influence
of the ideal will be felt, and with the liberty of
intelligence man will be able to realize his highest
life.
Victorian ordered a machine to be fitted out for an
immediate voyage. He did not consult me, but
proceeded as if he expected me to obey him like a child.
I determined to resent this treatment, for I would be
a poor lover, indeed, if I were to allow a brother to
hustle me off in this unceremonious manner. Knowing
that true love never did run smooth, I reasoned
that, if I hoped to win Victoria, I must expect some
hardships as my last experience with her was. So I
determined to stand my ground.
I precipitated matters by my hasty words.
"Whom is this ship being fitted for?" I asked.
"For you," he answered.
"You had better wait until I have been consulted.
You might find me unwilling to co~ply with your
wishes."
He smiled at me. His attitude toward me was
similar to that of a teacher toward a pupil on a holiday;
he did not have the authority to compel me, still he
commanded me.
"I have no fears of your refusing to do what is best
for you."
"We'll see about that," I answered.
He was making the same mistake parents make in
controlling their children. Parents go on the supposition that they know what is best and thwart their
children's wishes without consultation, forgetting that
value with a human being is arbitrarily relative, that
what to one is a trifle light as hydrogen (H) to
another is heavy as lead (Pb).
Victorian turned on his heel and left me.
I was angry at his dictatorial spirit, and I found
some pleasure in my anger, too, for I was foolish
enough to believe that, if not for Victorian, I could
win Victoria. I imagine that hundreds of love-sick
swains have had a similar feeling in regard to parental
opposition. The fact is, I see now, if you fully
win a girl, everything else follows as a matter of
course. Girls love to meet men with their guardians
as shields. They can refuse a man so much more
easily in their guardian's name than in their own, and
this practice, too, has another advantage; it gives a
young man an opportunity to call all his being into
action: he can curse the guardian and still love the
girl. It lets him down by degrees until all his love
passes away like an unrecorded thought, and leaves
him in ignorance as to its true destroyer.
In about an hour I was accosted by one of the
inhabitants, who told me that I was wanted at the meeting
of the Board for the Public Good. Not knowing
what this board was, and having, as you have seen, an
inordinate curiosity, I followed him to ascertain. The
meeting was in a public building that looked as if it
had not been much in use. The Board, composed of
some half-dozen men and women, were met when we
arrived. Victorian was among the small crowd of
spectators. My conductor brought me to the edge of
the circle and introduced me. Victorian identified
me; then it was that I discovered that I was looked
upon in the light of a criminal. What had I done?
Nothing but make love to a woman! But with the
Marsites that is enough! I thought of the awful
penalties we of Earth inflict on persons for following out
the tendencies of their nature! I did not know
whether I was guilty of some offense or not. I wished
I was at home, that I had accepted Victorian's proposition.
I was in a desperate condition.
Victorian made his formal charge, but I did not
fully understand it. It seemed to be nothing more
than that I was uncongenial to the institutions of
Mars. It was deemed a terrible offense. They did
not know that I was an alien, and, not knowing the
consequences, I was afraid to tell them. I now know,
however, that it would have altered matters greatly,
and would have extended to me a great deal of
sympathy, when as it was I got none.
One of the spectators volunteered to present
Victorian's charge against me. This left me handicapped
more than ever; yet, having had something to do
with law at home, I determined to do the best I could
with my case. Victorian's advocate unrolled a large
manuscript, and began reading a series of facts in
regard to me which I thought brought honor upon me.
When asked if they were true, of course, I answered
in the affirmative. One whom I conceived to be the
youngest member of the spectators at once leaped to
his feet and said:
"Sir; I will offer your explanatory theory."
Noticing that he appeared to be a friend, I accepted
his assistance. I seated myself and he proceeded with
my case. I was never more surprised in my life than
I was with what he said. While the facts in regard to
my behavior as related by Victorian's advocate were
as simple as could be, yet he gave for each of these
some recondite and strange explanation.
Then followed Victorian's advocate's views of the
facts. He told the truth exactly. I felt that my friend
had done me more harm than benefit — a habit of
friends. The Board was only a few moments in
deciding my case. I was banished to one of the near
planets or asteroids, but they gave me my choice out
of all the solar system. In cases like this the grade
of life on each planet is accurately described, and, of
course, the criminal chooses the planet with which he
is most in harmony. The following is the speech in
regard to Earth as near as I can remember it. It was
delivered by a young woman:
"As for Earth, I will say: It is a place so low in
civilization that we never have had any criminal
depraved enough to merit banishment there. I will offer
some criticisms on its civilisations.
"The theoretical philosophy of the people of Earth
is as highly developed as any in the solar system, but
they live as a working philosophy a miserable superstition.
They have no confidence in the potency of
truth. They are so addicted to acting from feeling
that their reasoning powers, though in other matters
highly developed, in regard to their own welfare, are
seldom used. In fact the civilization of Earth is nothing
but refined barbarism. Their industrial system,
one step above slavery, is still controlled by competition.
The struggle for existence among men is as
bitter as it is among animals. Society, instead of
making her institutions according to human nature,
attempts to modify human nature by institutions, and
as a result a troop of evils afflict Earth such as Mars
never saw. Morality is based on everything except a
scientific knowledge of human nature; government
on everything except liberty and justice; education
consists in learning a mass of errors that forever keep
out the truth. Whatever is respectable is worshiped,
and nothing can be respectable except that which
appeals to the direct mediocrity. Every one professes
optimism, yet act as if the Devil was the author of the
universe. Persecution takes the refined form of
refusing to recognize true greatness; tyranny in
oppression from the people instead of oppression of the
people; brains are hated more than any one other
thing; genius is never recognised until after death;
war is as common as with the lowest savages; women
are ornamental slaves. Instead of exercising the
function of sexual selection, they are from
conventionality forced to select husbands according to a
dictum made by it. Marriage is almost always a failure,
and to the women of Earth this means that life is a
failure. Those who are not Philistines are hypocritical
except a few prigs. It is a savage world where reason,
love, liberty and right, opposed by prejudice,
self-interest, fear, and superstition produce only discord,
like musical instruments in the hands of children.
The only advancement the race can make under such
circumstances is from national progress, for artificial
progress is out of the question when life is like a game
of chance at which every one cheats. I hope you will
not decide to go to this execrable place."
You can imagine my amazement at this tirade
against my native planet. Race hatred is bad enough,
but planetary hatred is certainly worse. I could not
see the object of this tirade. She seemed to desire
to go to the nearest asteroid to Mars. I was given
an hour to make my decision. Of course, I decided
to come home. My choice was a sad blow to the young
man
who presented my case. I was given a week
to arrange for my departure, which I at once set about
to accomplish.
[To be continued.]
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[Copyright secured.]
THE JOURNAL OF A SCIENTIST DURING A
VOYAGE TO THE PLANET MARS.
BY SAMUEL H. KING, SCIENTIST
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE FATE OF GENIUS.
The next few days, in conjunction with Victorian,
were spent by me in preparation for my voyage home.
As I said before, interplanetary navigation is much
more advanced on Mars than on Earth, so it
took me some time to learn the use of their
interplanetary apparatus. In addition to the balanced
atmospheric car hermetically sealed, they have a
reservoir of solidified air, to be used in case of an accident.
It is attached by a set of pipes to a covering over the
head, such as divers have. They provide in this way
air enough for ten days' journey. Victorian explained
to me a case wherein the air could be used to a great
advantage; for instance, if a small meteor, one as large
as a man's fist, should break through my car, I could
apply this condensed air apparatus, and mend the
rent, then reinflate my car from my store of air.
Victorian actually performed this experiment for me.
In a few days I was ready to start. I must say that
during this time Victorian treated me with all the care
of a polite host. On the morning before my departure
I told him I had two requests to make: (1) I wished
him to visit me on Earth and to assist me in writing
a work to get the people of Earth to model their
civilization after the civilization of Mars; (2) I desired
one more interview with Victoria.
He looked at me with the blandest surprise possible,
and said: "My friend, never did a man make two
requests more incongruous; one shows the wisdom of a
true philosopher; while, if I had no other proof of your
earthly birth than the other, it would be enough. In
answer to the first I will say, if it lies in my power, I
shall grant it; but why any one should make such a
puerile request as your second one I cannot see. Don't
you know it will cost you more pain than it can
possibly give you pleasure?"
"I never thought of that; I only know that I would
give anything I have to see Victoria once more."
"Then part with her? Well, such cruelty to one's
self is one of the strange freaks of an earthly mind.
I cannot think of aiding you in seeing my sister.
Time is a sure specific for painful emotions, and it would
be madness to have this interview, and thus arouse
your feelings, which have been dissipating for several
days. It is best to depart as you are."
I told him that I would leave on the following morning;
but I determined, if possible, to see Victoria
clandestinely. All the rest of that day was spent in
such endeavor, but at last I found that she had gone
away on a visit. This incensed me for a time; then I
gave vent to my feelings in a few foolish tears.
Now was the first time that I felt that I really had
to leave Mars. I had but twelve more hours to stay;
what must I do? I immediately determined to collect
various mementoes of Victoria and of Mars. With
my ship's small capacity, this, of course, was almost
an impossibility; yet I stored away quite a number of
things, among which was one of Victoria's musical
instruments, several new metals, and a complete history
of Man, which I intended to translate, and give to
the world upon my arrival on Earth.
The morning dawned sooner than I expected. Several
persons came to see me off, among them Franceska,
who offered some advice about several asteroids that
lay in my path to Earth. She also gave me a chart
for interplanetary navigation which she had just
made. After this I entered my ship and prepared for
my voyage. It was several minutes before my
apparatus was ready. This scene impressed itself upon
my mind as a lasting fact. It seemed that my visit to
Mars was only a dream, and that I was now about to
awake, and all would be dispelled as a delusion. But
not so. I was soon reminded by the increasing force
of my engine that I was not asleep, but at the
beginning of a difficult voyage; so I applied myself to my
present conditions, and hastily bidding my friends
good-bye, I set my ship to the uplifting air.
"Good-bye, Mars! Good-bye, Victoria! Fairest of
the planets! Fairest of womankind! Mars, thou hast
oriented my mind! Victoria, thou hast made my
heart invulnerable to all future female charms! Good-bye
to each of you, but not forever, for you will both
live always in my mind!"
I busied myself with the workings of my ship till I
was clear of Mars's denser atmosphere; then I consulted
Franceska's chart to see what was before me. I found
by examining my instruments that I was traveling at
the rate of a million and a half miles a day, and that
I would reach Earth much sooner than I had expected.
I also found among the stores of the ship some medicine
which purported to be a specific against the ennui
of interplanetary travel. I looked out. Mars was
rapidly receding, and I was becoming a citizen of the
solar system.
Again it seemed to me that I was dreaming. Could
it be that I had made a voyage to Mars? Yes; for
was I not now in an interplanetary ship in space traveling
at the rate of a million and a half miles per day?
I began to feel somewhat melancholy, so I took a small
dose of the prepared medicine. It had a marvelous
effect upon me. I set everything aright, made all my
bearings, and all the necessary preparations, then
again resigned myself to my thoughts. How long I
thought I do not know, for I finally fell asleep. When
I awoke I at once took my bearings, and made a startling
discovery; I had slept for many days! Mars
looked to be a small planet, while Earth was considerably
enlarged. Several asteroids were close to me,
but none in dangerous proximity. I found that I had
been awakened by an accident; a small meteor had
destroyed one of my ships! Just think what would
have become of me if this had happened on my first
voyage when I had but one ship! I would have been
left in space to fall perhaps millions of miles, a fate
more appalling than any in the history of mankind!
But, thanks to the inventive genius of the Marsites, I
was saved! After some little trouble I had my ships
well balanced again, and was sailing along at almost
the same speed as before.
Not to be tedious, I will state that I had no further
adventures worthy of note, unless my alighting on an
asteroid for a few hours was such, until I arrived off
the atmosphere of Earth. Earth from the distance of
a hundred thousand miles looks very much like the
planet Mars, except for the broad expanse of the
Pacific ocean, when approached from that side, which
looks desolate indeed — a ball of liquid matter utterly
uninhabitable. It was my fortune to approach her
from this side. Had I not slackened my speed I should
have alighted about the centre of the Pacific ocean.
This, of course, would have been death to me, and loss
to the world of all my valuable discoveries. At this
time a terrific storm was raging on the Pacific. I could
feel its effects when I was fifty miles high, yet the
atmosphere at that distance is very rare. The scene
was most sublime, and, were I a poet, I could describe
phenomena that would surpass in grandeur the sights
of Dante in the infernal regions.
I slackened my speed and endeavored to reach the
eastern shore of the Pacific. Sailing in Earth's
atmosphere with interplanetary ships is a dangerous
undertaking. No wonder air navigation has been a
failure. The atmosphere is so heavy and strong that
no ship can stand its motion. Several times I thought
my craft would be dashed into the ocean, yet I managed
to keep afloat. I was about fifty miles above the ocean,
but you must remember that this distance is nothing
when traveling in an interplanetary ship; and, in less
time than it takes me to tell it, I was over the three
thousand miles of ocean I had to travel before reaching
California.
Just how it happened I have never been able to
understand, but before I was aware of it, I found my
craft a total wreck in the ocean, and I at least a mile
from land. The ocean at this place was comparatively
quiet, yet I was in great danger. I found that my car
being hermetically sealed, floated on the water, but at
any moment it might be dashed to pieces by the waves.
This was the most perilous situation of my life. I
thought I was going to be drowned, yet I got together
my papers, a few mementoes of Victoria, and prepared
for the wont. At this moment a huge wave dashed
my car against a floating object. What this object
I could not determine, for I was almost insensible;
but I soon discovered it to be a boat. I swam for it,
and to my great joy saw that it contained two
occupants. In a moment I was hauled in. The rest of my
voyage was made in safety. I found the occupants of
the boat to be fishermen who had been caught out in
the storm, and were endeavoring to make their way to
land. They were greatly surprised at finding me out
in the water so far from land, and near no wreck, for I
learned that they had not seen my craft.
I told them my story. They looked at me strangely;
one, tapping his forehead, winked at the other significantly,
but said nothing. When I landed I proceeded
at once to the city of San Francisco and made known
my recent discoveries.
The rest of this Journal is reluctantly written. I
would leave off now but for fear of an accusation of
incompleteness. As it is, I have but few more words
to say, and they disclose the saddest disappointment
of my life.
I was branded as an impostor. This Journal was
said to be the work of a madman. I produced all the
proofs I could, but what could I do with all my
apparatus lost in the ocean? The mementoes I had
saved from the wreck were not conclusive evidence,
for, as one opponent said, they could all have been
made on Earth.
I telegraphed to some of my friends at my former
home for evidence to substantiate what I claimed.
They answered that I had been working for years on
an apparatus for such a voyage, that I had been absent
for some time, and that they "guessed" that I had
been to Mars if I said I had; yet no one would believe
me. It is sad when you cannot get any one to
sympathize with you in your life-work.
Another hard blow was that during my absence all
my apparatus at my home was destroyed by fire. I was
alone and without a friend, for a man who will not
believe you, or cannot sympathize with you, is no
friend, no matter how much he may wish to be one.
It was a sad disappointment to me to see men whom,
at one time, I thought to be leading scientists, look
with doubt upon me when I told of my exploration of
Mars. I gave specimens of Matosh in vain. I found
no one to believe me, and then I lost faith in myself,
and I think this is common experience. If a reformer
finds no disciples, he soon loses faith in his
mission.
I spent months in this condition; at last I determined
to publish this Journal, and let the world know
of my journey to Mars. This I have done. My book
you have before you, and I leave it to you to decide
whether or not it bears upon its face the stamp of truth.
I think you cannot doubt its authenticity for one
moment; however, should you do so, confident that my
achievement is the greatest ever accomplished by man,
I will do what all great men have done — leave the
matter to posterity — being perfectly sure that with them
my immortality is secured.
I may say with Kepler in his "Harmony of the Heavens":
"Here I throw the dice and write a book, to be
read by contemporaries or posterity, no matter which,
since God himself has waited six thousand years for
one who should contemplate His work aright."
Or with Ovid in his "Metamophoses": "I have
completed a work which neither the anger of Jove, nor
fire, nor steel, nor consuming time will be able to
destroy! Let that day, which has no power but over
this body of mine, put an end to the term of my uncertain
life, when it will. Yet in my better part, I shall
be raised immortal above the lofty stars, and indelible
shall be my name. And wherever the Roman power
is extended throughout the vanquished earth, I shall
be read by the lips of nations, and (if the presages of
poets have aught of truth) throughout all ages shall I
survive in fame."
THE END.
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