Daybreak: A Romance of an Old World

by James Cowan

“But do not imagine that the wrong was all on one side. There were employers who were unjust and cruel when they had the power, unreasonable in argument, and boorish and exasperating in their manners. Many seemed to think they were a different class of beings because they had more money than their workmen, and they resented the idea of the latter rising above the station in which they were born. They raised wages only when forced to do so, and considered any amount of profit made out of their men perfectly legitimate. When want came they would give in charity to the unfortunate ones that which really belonged to them by right. These disagreeable qualities were not possessed alone by such as were employers. There was a class of rich people not engaged in business, and although they had the greatest interest in the perpetuity of society as it was, many of them considered themselves as members of a superior caste, and looked down with disdain upon the majority of mankind, and the real masters of the situation, who had to work for their daily bread.

“It was against this class especially that anarchy was forging its thunderbolt. The freedom of the press and freedom of speech gave the socialist and anarchist the opportunity to promulgate their seditious doctrines, and they looked to the ignorant and depraved portions of the community for adherents. By the successful risings of the people against despotic power the word ‘revolution’ had gained a certain nobility of sound and meaning, and now these incendiaries employed it to mislead the credulous. They promised an overturning by which all property and money should become a common fund and be redistributed on a more equitable basis, and it is perhaps not to be wondered at that some poor, ignorant ones, seeing the vast inequalities in life, should be carried away with their arguments. The vision of a society where all should share alike and live on the same scale of comfort was intoxicating. But the scheme of the anarchist was not based on love and a desire to promote true brotherhood. Judging from the violent means proposed to bring about the change, it seemed rather to be based on hate. In preaching their doctrine of personal license they were stealing the livery of freedom in which to serve their selfish lusts.

“While the vicious and ignorant thus threatened society on the one hand, the accumulation of enormous wealth by a few fortunate, or unfortunate, men was thought by some to be a menace equally serious. It was argued that this could not go on without making the poor poorer and more numerous, and thus emphasizing and perpetuating the separation of the two classes.

“I need not point out to you a fact that you must realize, namely, that the spring of action with too many men, the one cause of the troubles that really threatened the foundations of society, was selfishness. Can you imagine any danger from all these movements if men could have suddenly become unselfish, really unselfish?

“I hope I have not given you the idea that all the world of people had lost their heads. As in the history of nations of that period war seems to have been the principal occupation, so in the social life of the people the evils and dangers are most prominently seen. But all this time there was a large party of men and women who were alive to the perils of the hour, and intent on seeking the best means to overcome them. This party was made up of many representatives of every class, rich and poor, workingmen and employers, and included the great mass of the intelligent and thoughtful members of society.

“The general and local governments were carrying on, with marked success and without friction, certain kinds of business, while in many other departments there were disorder and possible ruin. Time brought no healing power; the troubles increased and were now truly gigantic. Where should help be found?”

As Thorwald paused here, the doctor, who, I thought, had been wanting to speak for some time, took occasion to say:

“Don’t tell us, Thorwald, that this people turned over all their business, both industrial and professional, to the government, and made machines of themselves. I am becoming exceedingly interested in them and hope they found some better release from their woes. I am sure there are a number of methods of relief which they might have tried.”

“I am glad you have spoken, Doctor,” answered Thorwald, “or I might have talked you to death. We must really break off now and get out of doors.”

Mona listened to different portions of the foregoing conversation. It was dull amusement for her, as we could see by her actions, and we wondered at first why she showed so little interest in it. She did not seem to realize the full significance of her unique position in our circle. As the last representative of the race of moon men, she had now the opportunity of learning something of the history of two sister worlds, and one would suppose that she would have been eager to hear every word we said. She had expressed herself more than once as anxious to know all any of us could tell her, nor did she hesitate to ask questions continually—and intelligent questions, too. But she was sympathetic only in certain directions, having a laudable curiosity to hear about any of the pleasant phases of society, either on the earth or on Mars. But when Thorwald talked of the former troubles experienced by his race, or when we compared these with the miseries of our own times on the earth, Mona became an indifferent listener.