made it all pretty much alike everywhere now, and no place can lord it over another."
"Can a man emigrate into any other country?" I asked; "it doesn't matter what country—any other country would do."
"Oh, yes, if he likes," replied my companion; "but why should he? All lands are exactly the same. The whole world is all one people now—one language, one law, one life."
"Is there no variety, no change anywhere?" I asked. "What do you do for pleasure, for recreation? Are there any theatres?"
"No," responded my guide. "We had to abolish theatres. The histrionic temperament seemed utterly unable to accept the principles of equality. Each actor thought himself the best actor in the world, and superior, in fact, to most other people altogether. I don't know whether it was the same in your day?"
"Exactly the same," I answered, "but we did not take any notice of it."
"Ah! we did," he replied, "and, in consequence, shut the theatres up. Besides, our White Ribbon Vigilance Society said that all places of amusement were vicious and degrading; and being an energetic and stout-winded band, they soon won THE MAJORITY over to their views; and so all amusements are prohibited now."
I said: "Are you allowed to read books?"
"Well," he answered, "there are not many written. You see, owing to our all living such perfect lives, and there being no wrong, or sorrow, or joy, or hope, or love, or grief in the world, and everything being so regular and so proper, there is really nothing much to write about—except, of course, the Destiny of Humanity."
