“So that is what you call the golden rule, is it?” asked Thorwald. “And are you all trying to live by it?”

“Well,” I replied, “that is what many of us profess to be doing, but I must say we fall far, very far short of the mark. I do not know a single inhabitant of the earth, with the possible exception of my companion here, who fully obeys that command.”

The doctor’s smile was not lost on Thorwald, who replied:

“It was rather too bad of you to bring so far away from the earth the only good man the planet contained; but I am glad to know the golden rule, as you may well call it, has been given to men. We have had the same here, and, oh! if I could make you realize something of the struggle our race has had in working it into life and practice, you would gain some hope for the people of the earth. I mean, the result of this struggle would give you hope, for I am not ashamed to say that we are now living up to the full requirements of this law, and if you should spend the remainder of your lives with us I am sure you would not find my statement untrue. It is only by actually loving our neighbors as ourselves that we are able to live as we do. The law of love has replaced the law of force. It is well for you to understand this at the beginning, for it is the secret of our wonderful success in all the higher forms of civilization.”

“It must have helped you greatly,” said I, “in the matter of which you have just been speaking, that of government.”

“Yes, it has,” he replied. “In our histories we have full accounts of the long course of events when we were divided into hundreds of nations, each with its own pride and ambition, and each striving to build up itself upon the misfortunes or the ruins of its neighbors. You can perhaps imagine what a mass of material we have for reading and study.”

“We can,” spoke up the student doctor, “and it fairly makes my mouth water. But tell us briefly, Thorwald, how you ever passed from those troublous times to the blissful state in which we now find you.”

“The transition was exceedingly slow; it seemed, in fact, impossible that such a change could ever be effected. But it began with the establishment of universal peace, which was demanded by the growing spirit of brotherly love, and assisted by commercial reciprocity and a world language. Gradually national boundaries were found to be only an annoyance, and in time—a long time, of course—we became one nation and finally no nation. For now no one exercises any authority over his neighbors, since the need for all artificial distinctions has long since passed away.”

“Then,” said I, “you have no doubt lost all fear and anxiety over the conflicting interests of capital and labor.”

“Yes,” replied Thorwald, “for we have no such distinctions in society as rich and poor, workingmen and capitalists. We all work as we please, but there is so little to do that no one is burdened, and one cannot be richer than another because all the material bounties of nature and art are common to all, being as free as the air. I suppose, as this seems to be strange talk to you, that you cannot realize what it is to belong to a society where everyone considers the interests of his neighbor as much as his own. You will find when you reach that point that most of your troubles will be gone, as ours are.”