“The relative density between water and an animal body being such on our planet as to render the possibility of drowning by accident impossible, the fear and horror existing with you of involuntary immersion in the depths is entirely unknown. Our numerous lakes are therefore scenes of the most enjoyable, and what would be with you, reckless diversion. The upsetting of a boat with its load of excursionists, no matter where, results in merely a harmless frolic. The human body there sinks in the water only a little above its middle, and we have contrived, by web-like fastenings to the hands and feet, a means of propulsion so rapid as to nearly equal our speediest locomotion on the land. During our long summers, when the temperature of the water is agreeable, lake journeys, especially by the young, are among the most popular amusements. This, to you, strange condition of density is productive of a state of affairs partaking of the humorous, although leading to much domestic perplexity and annoyance. Our children take to the water in the summer season as naturally as your water fowl, and the loss of offspring upon the lakes, at that tender age which precludes their knowledge of the return direction, is the source of an immense amount of parental disturbance and worry. The straying of children upon the waters is attended, however, with but little danger; since, if by any possibility they remain undiscovered during the night, they can, owing to the buoyancy of their bodies, sleep tranquilly and delightfully upon their backs, resting upon the cushions of the waters until rescued, as they are sure to be on the succeeding day, by one of the numerous airships constantly skimming the surface.
“Our land is generally rolling, and there is a constant water movement in the channels connecting these small bodies of water, not in a uniform direction toward the sea, as with you, but in all directions, thus saving to us a power for mechanical purposes than which nothing better can be conceived.
“Our cities, as you may imagine, are not located as yours are; but, since one place is as good as another for a distributing point, the rule has been to build them up where conditions are favorable, chiefly considered of which have been the health, comfort, and pleasure of their inhabitants. It would be doing us injustice to believe that, with our long period of development and progress, we have not achieved something far ahead of you in the sanitary and labor-saving appliances about us, especially in our metropolitan districts. In the first place, we use no wood whatever in the construction of our buildings, having discovered long ago a tendency during its slow decay to absorb and retain the germs of disease and uncleanliness. Neither is its durability satisfactory; and its ready inflammability and lack of strength render it unfitted for our purposes. We use, instead, a metallic alloy unknown to you, which is susceptible of a high polish, as inoxidizable as gold, and with that character of penetrability which permits fastening with nails and shaping by tools, with even greater exactness than you work with wood.
“Our cities are built with uniformity. Their growth is invariably from the center outward. Their location is not a matter of chance, as yours generally is. No site is chosen without the thorough examination and approval of a sanitary commission, whose knowledge and sincerity we respect. Their foundation is made by the laying out of a large circular enclosure for the location of all public buildings, among which, in the center and more magnificent than all in its imposing loftiness and artistic finish, is our temple of worship. From this center radiate a set of wide and uniform thoroughfares, and these are crossed at regular intervals by circular ones, which begin at the center and are repeated to the circumference as a series of concentric rings.”
The man from Mars became silent for a moment, and I observed that for the first time his face was clouded a little. He had spoken of a temple of worship, and it had started in my mind a wish to hear something of the society and morals of his people, and how they compared with us; so I said to him: “I am grateful to you for your kindness in describing some of the material surroundings of your people, but I would like very much to know something of your inner lives, of your thoughts and beliefs, and how they affect your social condition.”
“My brother,” said he, “you wish me to make a comparison between our society and yours. I can scarcely do so without the risk of giving you pain. With our greater advancement, we look back upon you as travelers over the same rough paths. Your journey is even a more difficult one than ours. In your present state, you appear to us as a world of discord, confusion, and strife. While we were long ago resolved into a single, homogeneous people, you are still divided into nations and countries, unridden yet of the barbarous pride of combat. We have but one religion. Yours are many and antagonistic. I shall briefly make for you the comparison you wish, hoping that it may bring no sense of pain to you, for, to speak the truth, the cruelty, the intense individual selfishness, and the strange superstitions of the inhabitants of the Earth will pass away out of the ages to come.”
CHAPTER III.
“Comparing your society with ours,” began my celestial visitor, “is like describing the difference between your present intellectual condition, and the state you were in during your cave-dwelling period. In review of your progress, we recognize two chief agencies at work which have regenerated us, viz.: the steady growth of human sympathy, and the fading out of old superstitions. In our advanced development, with the first of these, we have achieved a state of things in our society quite likely beyond your hopes. For instance, that feeling of regard and affinity for each other which is seldom found among you, except in the midst of family ties, we hold one for another among all. If I were to select from among you a domestic circle, the most refined and correct, its disturbance and anxiety from the sorrows and misfortunes of one of its members would scarcely represent the feeling in a body of our people for the misfortunes of any. We are shocked at your cruel indifference to the feelings of one another. When we see one of you sinking by the wayside, by means of one of the evils which you naturally inherit; or overwhelmed, perhaps, with the penalties of a misadventure, and looked upon by his fellows regardless of his smitten condition, we can find no parallel to it among ourselves, except in the traditions that have come to us out of our remote ages.