by James Cowan
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE PICTURE TELEGRAPH.
"Let us step into the music room," said Thorwald. "Doctor, whatacquaintance have you with the telephone?"
"We think we have brought the telephone to a considerable degree ofperfection," said the doctor. "At first it was rather crude, and manypreferred to forego its use in order to escape its annoyances. But ofrecent years great improvements have been made, until its employment isnow a pleasure, as well as an essential help in our business and sociallife."
"Does it minister to any other sense than the hearing?"
"It does not, although I have seen a vague promise somewhere of aninvention by which we could see an image of the person we were speakingto."
"If that is all, I shall be able to give you a pleasant surprise,"pursued Thorwald. "Just sit in those chairs, and do nothing but keepyour eyes open and listen."
We saw him arrange a series of long panels, in which were elegantmirrors, and then, as he gently pulled an ivory knob, there fellupon our ears, very faintly, like distant echoes, strains of the mostdelicious music. Gradually the tones became louder and more defined,and Zenith, with a quick smile and glance, directed our attention to theopposite side of the room. There our wondering eyes beheld the orchestrawith whose notes we were then enchanted. There must have been a hundredplayers or more, and we seemed to be looking upon them from a distancewhich would bring the whole group within the bounds of the room. Itwas not a picture thrown on a screen, but was as if the musicians wereactually present. Every motion made with their instruments was in exactaccord with the accompanying note, and, wherever this orchestra mighthave its local habitation, it was certainly playing before our littleaudience that morning.
As the selection ended the scene faded away under the manipulation ofThorwald, and in a moment the room was filled with a harmony of voicessuch as I had never heard on the earth. And now the great chorusappeared, crowding this time three sides of the apartment and rising,tier on tier, to the ceiling. We could see the glad faces of the singersand knew how they must be enjoying their work. Brilliant solo partsburst out from one side and the other, and again from the middle throng,but it was impossible to tell from what individual singers these notescame.
When this scene, too, had passed and the music, all too soon, hadceased, Thorwald made haste to answer the inquiry he saw in our faces bysaying:
"These concerts are now being given in two cities, both of them severalthousand miles east of here, so far that it is now afternoon there. Ifwe desire music after dinner this evening we can make connection withsome city west of us, and by going farther west we can invoke sweetsounds to soothe us to sleep. Being connected with all the musicalcenters, you can see how, by trying either one direction or the other,we can have something worth hearing at any hour of the day or night,with the players and singers themselves employed, of course, only in thedaytime. We have daily programmes of every concert sent us by telephone.They are received here, you see, and printed automatically on thesesheets."
Zenith had watched us with eager interest during this marvelousexhibition. It was a novel experience, for they had never before hadthe opportunity of showing this perfected invention to those entirelyignorant of it, and they both enjoyed seeing the pleasure which musthave beamed from our faces. I wanted to say something, but could thinkof nothing fit for the occasion, and was relieved to hear the doctorspeak:
"My good friends," said he, "do not try to show us anything beyond thisor we shall lose our mental balance. I believe in fairyland now, for Ihave just come from there. I never paid much attention to music on theearth, and did not feel any shame for it either, but I am now sure itwill be to my everlasting disgrace if I neglect it another day."
This speech pleased Zenith exceedingly, and her emotion made her voiceand manner more charming than ever as she said:
"If you stay with us, Doctor, you shall have plenty of good music, andyou will soon become not only a music lover but a music maker, for everyMartian is proficient in this art."
"Do you think," asked the doctor, "that there is the faintest hope thatthe earthly music will ever reach the high standard of that we have justheard?"
"Thorwald has told me something of your history," Zenith replied, "andI share his strong faith in your happy destiny. It seems to me thatyour race is equal to any achievement you have witnessed here, and evengreater things, but it will take much time. Such changes are very slow.As for us, we hope we are still making advancement in music. We havefew higher employments, and hardly one in which we are more entirelyengrossed. It was given to us at an early stage of our development,and all through our troubled course music has been one of the chiefinfluences for good. It has helped to keep hope alive during the darkestperiods of our history, and has always been a mighty incentive toward ahigher spiritual state. As your race advances I am sure you willrealize more and more the beauty and value of this art, heaven-born andexhaustless."
We all smiled at Zenith's happy assurance that the earth was on theupward path, and Thorwald said:
"You see hope is contagious. But as we have been through all yourpresent troubles and have triumphed over them, it is perhaps easier forus to believe in you than for you to believe in yourselves.
"And now, should you like to see how the telephone works in every-daymatters?"
On our replying in the affirmative, Thorwald turned a switch, waiteda moment, turned it again, and then there appeared before our eyes afamiliar object, nothing less than the ship in which we had made ourrecent voyage. A number of the men, whom we recognized, were walkingabout the deck, and one stood apart, near the side of the vessel,conversing with Thorwald, the words of both being audible to us. Whenthey were through, the scene faded away and Thorwald said:
"As soon as the ship reached its dock connection was made with thegeneral system of wires, and the instrument, which is stationed near theplace where the man was standing, was ready for use.
"So, whenever we desire to talk to our friends, we summon them toour presence. You see it is not necessary to speak directly into thetransmitter. We can sit comfortably in our chairs and converse as easilyas when our friends are actually present."
"Let me ask you, Thorwald," said the doctor, "how all the electricityyou use is generated? The immense quantity you employ must necessitatea great deal of power to produce it. Is there a huge plant in every citydriven by steam?"
"No," answered Thorwald. "We make no use of steam in these days. Allthe power we need is obtained from natural waterfalls and rapids. Thispower, which nature has placed ready made at our hand, is so abundantthat it can never be exhausted."
"These waterfalls must fortunately be well distributed," remarked thedoctor.
"Not more so, I presume, than on the earth," Thorwald made answer."Every stream that runs in its bed has in it a power proportioned to thevolume of water and the swiftness of its current. Think of the amountof water wasted every day in this way--no, not wasted, but unused. Wedo not need, however, to utilize ordinary streams, as there are enoughgreat falls where power is transformed into electricity to be sent overwires to any distance required. In every city or district large storagefacilities are provided from which power can be obtained for allpossible purposes. Our beds of coal and wells of oil were long sinceexhausted, but while rain falls and water runs this power can never failus.
"Doctor, what is the best metal you have for transmitting electricity?"
"Copper," answered my companion. "Silver is a little better conductor,and a new metal, called glucinium, is better still, but both of theseare too expensive for general use. Our telegraph and telephone wireswere formerly made of iron for the sake of economy, but copper is nowused for these lines, as well as for distributing electricity on alarge scale. The copper wire now commonly used for the telegraph has aresistance of something like four ohms to the mile."
"You are making good progress," said Thorwald. "But we have a metal ofsuch good conducting qualities that, without making the wire too largefor
convenient use, we have reduced the resistance to an ohm to themile."
"That is an exceedingly valuable metal," the doctor said. "And now letme ask you a practical question. You say you draw your electricity fora thousand and one uses from a large storage plant in each city. Do youpay for it by the kilowatt, or how is it measured?"
"We ask for so many watts or kilowatts, and it is also measured by thewatt hour. But are you serious in asking if we pay for it?"
"Why, you surely do not mean it is given away," exclaimed the doctor,"after all the expense connected with producing and transmitting it."
"Yes, I mean that whatever quantity we want to use is ours for theasking. Before we could buy it some one would have to own it, and thatcould never be. Besides, how could we buy anything without money?"
"What! No money either?" broke in the doctor again. "Well, if you canget along without money, that accounts in my mind for much of yourhappiness. Just think of that," continued the doctor, turning to me, "tobe forever rid of money and all the trouble it brings."
"Of what value would it be to us?" asked Thorwald. "We could not useit."
"Some of our people on the earth," replied the doctor, "have oceans ofit which they cannot use, and still they seem to think it is of muchvalue. It is an inherent characteristic of our race to love the merepossession of money or other property, and human nature must changea great deal before we can begin to reach the exalted moral conditionwhich you now enjoy, to say nothing of your spiritual state."
"Your nature will change," said Thorwald, "and do not doubt that thechange has already begun. Time is what you need, and there is timeenough for everything."
After the midday lunch had been served we were invited to take a walkabout the grounds. As the doctor and I were admiring the beautiful lawnsand gorgeous beds of flowers, and then stood enraptured at the sight ofthe noble mansion itself, Zenith watched us eagerly, and finally said,with a smile:
"You discovered my favorite department of art this morning. Now is agood time to learn what Thorwald's is."
"Judging from what we have already seen and heard of your husband," saidI, "it seems to me he must be an astronomer, or, if not that, then atheological professor."
"If he has been talking to you on either of those subjects," shereturned, "I have no doubt he told you things worth taking home withyou, but his pet topics of study are architecture and its sister art,landscape gardening. This house is a creature of his brain, and all theartistic effects in color and pattern, which I know you have the tasteto admire, are of his designing."
The simple, unaffected manner in which Zenith showed her pride in herhusband's achievements was refreshing, and the knowledge she impartedonly added still more to our high appreciation of our friend.
It was now time for Thorwald to speak, and he remarked quietly:
"It is true that I love architecture. It is another occupation of whichwe can never tire and whose resources we can never fathom. A beautiful,dignified, and truly artistic building is one of the highest possibleproducts of our civilization, and such work brings out all the poeticfeeling in one's nature, just as the production of a fine painting orpiece of sculpture does. These arts, and literature as well, all havetheir special devotees among us, but everyone knows enough of all artsto appreciate and enjoy good work in every department.
"We build truthfully, and this helps to make what we build beautiful,for truth is beautiful wherever it is found; and beauty is an object tobe sought after for its own sake, an enjoyable thing well worth strivingfor. Religion and art, using both those terms in a comprehensive sense,have worked together, through all our history, to lift up our souls andfit them for higher and higher duties."
"Thorwald," said Zenith, "I think our friends would enjoy seeing someof our imposing buildings and other works of art while this subject isbefore them."
That this was not a suggestion that we should start on an extended tourof the country was proved by Thorwald, who said:
"Very well, we will then go into the music room again, if you please."
Here we were shown, by the new powers of the telephone, a bewilderingsuccession of the grandest structures our imagination could picture:churches and cathedrals, college buildings, observatories, museums,music halls and private residences. These were not like pictures orviews; but the structures themselves, in full perspective and in all therichness of their coloring, seemed to stand before us. Trees waving inthe breeze, people and carriages passing in the streets and occasionallya movement at a window or door, all aided the illusion and made itdifficult to realize that we were not in the midst of the scenes we weregazing upon.
Thorwald or Zenith told us the name or purpose of each building as itappeared, and the novel exhibition closed with the presentation of alarge and splendid playhouse.
As this was announced I involuntarily exclaimed:
"So you have kept the theater, have you? Some good people on the earththink the drama is demoralizing."
"That," said Zenith, "is probably because you have allowed it to becomedebased. We read in our histories of such a period here. Indeed, fora long time both the play and the opera were abolished, our advancingcivilization having given them up under the impression that the goodin them was overbalanced by the evil. But when the era of a more noblepersonal character had come the drama was revived, and now is not only asource of innocent pleasure but is also a decided help to our growth.
"I recognize the house we are now looking at. It is in quite a distantcity, and I see Thorwald has purposely chosen it because at this momentan able company is presenting there one of our most popular plays. Wouldyou like to hear some of it?"
No sooner were these words uttered than we saw Thorwald make a slightmovement of the switch, and, lo! the scene was changed to the interiorof the building, and there before us was the Martian theater in fullplay. We sat as it were in the dress circle, with the orchestra andstage in our front. All was beauty and life around us, and the richnessand harmonious coloring of the whole interior were simply beyonddescription. The play was going on in a quiet, dignified manner andevery word and gesture were characterized with the greatest naturalness.It struck the doctor and me as a peculiar feature that, while we couldhear everything that was said on the stage and even the rustle ofthe people around us, we ourselves could talk and laugh without beingnoticed. This effect was produced by an ingenious attachment to thetelephone, and the doctor was moved to remark:
"This is an altogether comfortable and satisfactory situation."
"Yes," added Zenith, "we think it is almost as good as being actuallypresent in the theater."
We assured her it was better, in our opinion, and then we thanked themboth for the pleasure they had given us. But we began to think theirresources for entertaining their friends would never be exhausted whenThorwald told us he would, at some future time, show us specimens oftheir paintings, sculpture, fine porcelain, elegant furniture, and manyother works of art.
One morning, a few days later, as we were rising from breakfast,Thorwald said:
"Well, my friends, I suppose you will go to church with us to-day?"
"To church?" asked we in one breath.
"Yes, this is Sunday."
"Oh, is it?" I said. "I began to think you didn't have Sunday here. Itis now eight days since our return from the moon, and this is the firstwe have heard of it."
"Let me see," said Thorwald, "I believe this is the first Sunday we havespent at home since you came to us."
"Then how long is your week?"
"Ten days."
"That accounts for our misunderstanding," I said, "for our Sunday comesevery seventh day."
"That is an odd number," returned Thorwald. "With us the week is thebasis of our decimal method of reckoning. We have one hundred minutes inan hour and ten hours in a day."
Of course we were ready to go to church, and when we were on the way,seated in a comfortable carriage, the doctor said to Thorwald:
"If for any reason you do not care
to go out on Sunday, I suppose youcan all repair to your music room, turn that little switch, and listento the best preacher and the best church music in the land. But do notimagine by that remark that we have any fault to find with this methodof going to church. For my part, I think I prefer it."
"I perceive," answered Thorwald, "that you have a good idea of thecapabilities of the telephone, but I shall have to correct you in thiscase. Our instruments are not connected with any of the churches. Butto-morrow we can get, by asking through the telephone, phonograph rollsof any sermons that are delivered to-day. If we preferred we could getthem in print, but the phonograph is pleasanter. This instrument isnow so perfect that the imitation of the speaker's words and tones isfaultless. The works of all our authors can be obtained in this form,and our libraries consist in great part of phonograph rolls. Even thepoets of former generations speak to us, and the voice of the singeradds its charm to the song.
"But you will want to ask me why we do not extend the use of thetelephone to the churches. We learned long ago that it is a good thingfor people to come together for worship and that nothing will take theplace of it. We do not go for an intellectual treat nor to enjoy themusic, but only for worship, and we try to keep our forms simple yetdignified and as fitting as possible in all ways. Some day I must tellyou through what difficulties we have passed in church ceremonies andchurch government."