CHAPTER IV.
A MARTIAN INSTRUCTOR.
Next morning I commenced my study of the Martian language. The picturewriting was not difficult, for the symbols were the same in principle as ours, founded, indeed, on the bases of geometry, or natural symbolism, such as must be almost universal. The circle meant space, the point meant unity, the multiplication of points meant numbers, the equal lines meant equality, the crossed lines meant addition, the picture of the thing meant the thing depicted. It was the same symbolism as was the basis of human writing in the Egyptian hieroglyphic or the ancient Chinese, a small part of which still lingers with you in mathematical and masonic symbols. It was the language, not of a particular world, but of the universe; still it had local symbols for ideas belonging to that Martian world. These I had to learn, but my instructor soon put me in the way of them by explaining them through general symbols.
When I could read the Martian writing, I found there was another, as on earth, phonetic mode of writing, short and simple as your shorthand, which represented sounds, and was in common use. By this I was soon able to learn the spoken language, and thereby to converse with my instructor by word of mouth.
The spoken language was very simple. Each syllable conveyed an idea, the consonant sounds representing the idea in its special sense, the vowel sound the part of speech or grammatical inflection. Thus all roots were consonants, all inflexions vowel sounds. By this the idea was in the consonants, and the part of speech, the form of the idea, was in the vowels. Thus, supposing we were to adopt this system in England, man would represent the thought man, m..n meaning humanity, and a marking a noun Mān would be "men." Men would be " manly."
Min "to man," or "provide with men." Mon
"to manly." Mun would be "manliness."
And so the idea would be altered through some score of vowel sounds.
"Have you many languages in your world, as they have on earth?" I asked my instructor.
"We had them once, but we agreed to abolish them, and substitute one as near perfection as we could make it. It is far better for a world to have only one language. Now, one can travel from land to land without hindrance, and converse with people of all nations. It is many centuries since we had diversity of speech."
"How did you arrange this?"
"We had some ages ago a great congress on this subject, where all the assembly agreed to have one language. An academy was formed to establish a perfect language. After long discussion, a scheme was adopted and submitted to the whole world again, and accepted. This was taught in all the schools, and in time, as the young grew old and died off, the old languages died with them, or rather were reserved for a study of a few of the learned. Since then we have had but one language."
"It almost looks," I said, "as if on earth, as with you and us, this may in time be the case, for two quarters of the earth are accepting the use of one language—the English. Perhaps it may in time be dominant. But yours is a formed, not a natural language."
"Partly so; but only in part, for we still retain the basis of the ancient tongues."
"Have you any exceptions in your language?"
"No, none; a rule once given is always preserved. In the old languages corruptions and exceptions did exist, in the new none."
As soon as we could thus converse together easily, my instructor asked me many thousands of questions about my world, and also (when he learnt I had been on Earth) about yours. He seemed of a most inquisitive mind, and anxious to learn all I could teach him about our worlds. It seemed that the first elements of astronomy were as well understood by him, as by your best astronomers. Observations had been systematically carried on for ages, and instruments had been perfected. The Martians evidently wished, as far as they could, mentally to soar above the little world to which they had been bound, and on which they lived. They had measured the distances of their sister worlds from their own, and from the mighty Sun; they had examined their elements in the spectroscope, they had watched their movements.
I asked him once about the history of his world, and what was its past.
"There was a time," he said, "when war raged in our world most terribly. Each of our four great continents were separate nations. Each struggled for supremacy. Each strove to obtain sovereignty over all the rest—a sovereignty bought at a terrible price. All countries were desolated; population was reduced to a hundredth. Many evil souls were sent forth from our world unfitted for a higher state. Then God looked on us with pity. Our world was losing her use in this vast creation, as the fitting abode of spirits for awhile incarnated to prepare for a higher life in happier spheres. Then, in His love. He sent the Holy One to teach us better. He taught us useful lessons, that peace, not war, was the source of happiness; that love, not hate, was the due of all; but the Holy One taught us also to hate sin, and lying, falsehood, and gross low pleasure. And our ancestors learnt the lesson. We had been united by force into one state, and now were taught to love one another. Peace was established; but still our sensitive, irritable natures were eager to hate something. We were taught to hate sin, and, if needed, to slay the sinner. A great war arose then against Sin, and was waged against all who erred against our pristine nobleness; and so the law was instituted that those who erred against truth, or honour, or (in females) against modesty, should be cast out of our world; but yet cast out lovingly, in the hope that in another life they might do better. And so the arts of peace prospered among us. The energy wasted in war was given to science and to progress, to seek to know more, to draw forth nature's secrets, to develop, to ennoble our race, to increase the sum of happiness. And so we prospered. Cities were raised where only forests grew before. The wild beasts were tamed and utilized, knowledge was augmented, and the forces of nature were subdued to our will. Population increased wonderfully. There were millions where there had been hundreds. Still we sought to increase the means of subsistence, and nature wonderfully answered our demands. Our world began to assume its true position in creation."
"Tell me," I said, "what, is your government? How do you secure peace?"
"In the olden days of wars and mutual destruction, as I said, we had four great states—four great nations—for our four continents, with minor states on the islands. All these contended against each other. But then, when the Holy One's teachings were established, and peace and love accepted, the first step was to give each of the four nations their rights. The great principle of unselfishness was established, and only those who excelled in wisdom and virtue were promoted to positions of trust and power."
"I should like much to see some of your great cities. May I not do so?"
"Yes, I think you may—only disguise yourself. It would not be well for you to own yourself to be of another world than ours. It might put some of our weaker ones into temptation. Foolish curiosity would be excited; you would find much trouble for yourself and for us, so you must disguise yourself."
So he arranged a disguise for me as a child of the Martians, to cover my inferior size, and stained me to a colour like theirs, and otherwise disguised me so that I could hardly know myself.
So one day he took me out again into the forest, and told me that we should go together to the City of the Waters, the capital of the great island on which he dwelt. It was situated between the great Delarue Ocean, and that wide lake you call the Lockyer Sea, the point whence earth's astronomers usually calculate the meridians of the ruddy world.
As we walked on we conversed on many subjects.
"We are wont to travel much in this our land," he said, "for our winters are very cold. In our early state, ages and ages ago, we Martians used to have but one home, and when the snow came and the cold, we used to huddleup ourselves in our houses and cause artificial heat, and so spend the wretched winter. Hence have arisen our fire customs. Now, as science has progressed, every one, except those who live near the equator, has two homes, one in the northern and the other in the southern hemisphere, and also most have an electric ship and car; so, when the winter comes on, the family enter their ship, and float down to the port of the other home with all their goods, and so it is with each commune. The same friends gather together in the other hemisphere as here, and all home comforts are the same, with the same friends, the same community in the southern as in the northern hemisphere. There, then, we dwell till again autumn comes, when we go back again all together to the old home to find spring once more. We thus live now in constant spring and summer."
"You are like the migratory birds, it seems, of earth, which never stay for winter. Possibly, in ages to come, men may be like this, when modes of transit improve. The rich sometimes already are so 'cheating the winter' in warm climes."
"From what you said about earth," said my conductor, "and the state of humanity there, I should say it was a world as yet far less developed than ours — perhaps younger in the scale of creation, a younger child of the glorious sun, and yet very like ours. Men appear, as yet, hindered by sin, wars, bad government, intestine quarrels, and class selfishness, from reaching the state in which we are. And yet, in our history, I can well trace a period, many thousands of years ago, when we Martians were no further advanced in enlightenment, or in the knowledge of what was best for ourselves, than you say you found mankind upon the earth during your recent visit. Perhaps the time may come, in thousands of years hence, when the human race may attain something like the state of society in which we Martians now live. The two worlds are very much alike in everything. In the future, perhaps, men who live in cold countries will usually quit them for summer climes."
We had not walked many minutes in the forest before, almost suddenly, his words about winter appeared realised. The sky was clouded over, the white snow fell on the ruddy vegetation. I cannot describe how lovely it appeared. Above, the leaves were glittering white and ornamented with exquisite snow crystals; but below, their ruddy glow was manifest.
"This snowfall is not unlike," I said to him, "what I have often seen in earth-winter in northern Europe. Really, if it were not for the ruddy foliage, this might almost be a scene upon the earth."
"Yes," he replied, "I was prepared for that remark. The two worlds are very much alike in almost everything—in snowfall, in summer sun and winter cold, in distribution of land and water into continents and seas, in islands and lakes. We even think we sometimes can trace a resemblance in the northern part of one of the hemispheres of earth to our world."
"You mean in North America, in Canada, and the lake regions of the United States. It is true the configuration of the country there is very like what we see in Mars."
Meanwhile, the snow fell more and more heavily. My guide led me to a shelter which had been formed by some rocks, and here we waited for the snow shower to pass.
"You were talking of your continents and islands with which your world is mapped out. Tell me, how can I see them, and traverse your globe as I have done the earth? You advise me to maintain my secret, but I fear my disguise will not suffice me to do what I managed safely to do upon the earth. Our difference in size alone makes it impracticable."
"I think we can do it, but you must go with me. Listen to my proposal. When we reach the Ocean city, if you desire it, we may embark together on the little electric ship of our commune, which I have at my disposal. I can easily navigate her myself in every sea and port."
"Is it possible? Can one Martian alone, with a single companion, navigate a vessel round the whole of his world? No man has ever attempted such a feat yet. It is almost impossible."
"You forget," said my companion, "the conditions of the voyage are quite different to those which men would have to encounter on earth. Our oceans are not so vast, from shore to shore is not so far, our electric ships are exquisitely constructed to give a complete power over the natural forces; we have but to connect or to disjoin a wire to establish or destroy an immense force, and electricity is, as you know, the key force, the master force of our solar system. By my command of this power in my little vessel I can go anywhere on the waters, and do anything."
We reached a shed close to a railroad of polished steel. Erom the shed he drew an electric car, and mounting it, bade me do so likewise. He touched the electro-motor and we dashed through the forest.