CHAPTER XXV.
AN UNSATISFACTORY LOVER.
It was delightful to live in the same world with Mona, not for me onlybut for every one who knew her. No one could help loving her; there wassimply nothing else to do. Others did not make as much show of theiraffection as I did, perhaps because no one else was selfish enoughto claim the same personal rights in her, but I found every newacquaintance she made succumbed to the power of her many charms. Thesecret of this general homage was her own loving nature, which justworked itself out spontaneously, but the more her love was shed abroadthe more she retained for new-comers. At first my naturally jealousdisposition continued to give me long hours of anguish, but I happilywas able to overcome this to a great extent as I became betteracquainted with her marvelous spirit.
Although I was at that time too much under the spell of this faircreature to form an unprejudiced judgment of her, I have since thenattempted something of the kind, in comparing her in my mind withAntonia and others whom we met in Mars. Let me say that the Martians arenot a perfect race. With our undeveloped spiritual natures we could not,during our entire visit, see any imperfections in them; but, as will beseen further on in this narrative, our good friends Thorwald and Zenith,under whose instructions kind fortune had placed us, were particularto tell us that their race had reached only an advanced state ofcivilization, to which the earth might one day attain, and thatperfection was still a dream of the future. Taking Antonia, then, asa representative of her kind, I can see that she had a solidly formedcharacter. She was what she was, not because she could not help it butbecause she herself willed it. That is, when she might have done wrongshe chose to do right. Her connection with temptation was not entirelythrough her remote ancestors, whose sins filled such a large page intheir history, but she herself had felt drawings toward evil. Yet soslightly had she yielded, and so strongly had her right years of livingbuttressed her against all kinds of wrong, that she, as well as all ofher race whom we saw, appeared to us about perfect. Theoretically shemight transgress, but practically it was all but impossible. Hers, then,was a truly noble character, and when she gave her love to Foedric hehad good reason to be proud of the gift. Nor did she defraud others oftheir due, but her heart was open to every proper call.
Such was Antonia, one whom we could in some degree appreciate, althoughso far above us. But how could we understand a being like Mona, who toldus, and we saw no reason to disbelieve her, that she had never knownwhat it was to do wrong? She seemed as incapable of evil as the birds ofthe air, or, to make the comparison still stronger, as a beautiful rose.She was guileless by nature, and goodness and truth were as much a partof her as her beauty was. She was made to be a joy and comfort to everycreature brought within the circle of her influence, and she could nomore help loving than the sun can help shining. All who came near herreceived a share of her gracious beams.
She was unselfish and full of sympathy and every right feeling, notbecause she had seen the evils of selfishness and meanness, but becausethese latter qualities were utterly unknown to her. Her high characterand perfectly correct life, therefore, were not the result of reason andchoice, but were the instinctive manifestations of her pure nature.
I do not undertake to say which of these two presented the higher typeof womanhood, and I certainly entered into no such speculations aboutthem at that time, but I never had any difficulty in deciding thatMona was the one I loved. I did not, of course, relish her fondness forothers. In that respect I considered her nature altogether too ardent,but I found I must get accustomed to it, as she would not change.
It made me quite despondent at times, fearing I could never lead her tofeel any special liking for me. Then when she smiled upon me and sang sosweetly to me, I thought I ought to be happy though I had to share herheart with all the world. Still I did not relax my efforts to make myshare larger.
"Mona," I said, one day, "I wish you would ask me to do something realhard for you."
"Why?" she asked.
"So that I could show you how much I love you."
"But you have already shown me," she said. "I cannot think of anythingmore difficult than you have done. Did you not keep up a firm beliefthat I would be found, even after the doctor and these wise men of Marshad lost all hope, and did you not, by your enthusiasm, prevail on themto enter on a difficult search for me on the moon? I have heard allabout your deep concern for me and how you were affected by hearingsinging which you thought was like mine. And now that I have been found,you are so watchful for my comfort and like to be so near me all thetime, that I am sure I do not need any further proof of your strongattachment. But why do you pay me so much attention? Why do you not liketo be with Antonia as much as with me?"
"Because I do not love her as much as I do you."
"Why do you love me so? Because I took you down to my quiet home andsaved you from being blown off the top of the moon?"
"No, the doctor and I are both grateful to you for that kindness, butgratitude isn't love."
"I haven't done anything else for you," she said.
"It isn't for anything you have done that I love you."
"What then?"
"Oh, I don't know. I suppose it is because I can't help it."
"Oh, then you are becoming like me, for I can't help loving everybody."
"I shall never be good enough for that," said I.
"What is love, as you understand it?" asked Mona.
"Love--love," I hesitated; "why, it is the feeling I have in my heartfor you. Love is what kept hope alive when you were lost and gave mesuch joy when I heard your voice and knew we had found you. Love makesevery task light that is done for you and every place where you are thebrightest spot in the universe. Even this delightful world of Mars ismore beautiful than ever because you are here. Love, if mutual, isa precious bond, uniting two hearts and making them beat in harmony.Cannot you and I be joined in heart, Mona?"
"My dear friend," she replied, "I am very sorry I cannot share yourfeeling, but I do not understand such love as you have been trying todescribe."
"Then I fear you do not love me," I responded, with great sadness in myvoice.
"Oh, don't say that," she exclaimed. "Indeed I do love you. Now, how canI prove it to you? What is the opposite of love?"
"Hatred; or, in such a case as this, indifference would be about as badas anything."
"Well, I don't know much about such things, but do I seem like a personwho could hate you or be indifferent to you?"
"No, Mona, you seem to be the most loving creature in all the worlds wehave ever known, but--"
"Oh, do not spoil that fine speech with a 'but.' I know what you wantto say. You think I ought to love you more than anyone else, or in somedifferent way. Now, that desire of yours is what I cannot understand.I love everybody alike because I know of no other sentiment. So it is amatter of course with me, and I do not feel obliged to tell people thatI love them. You seem to make too much of it, coming to me everyday andtelling me, over and over again, that you love me, just as if I doubtedit. Why do you like to be with me so much? Do you think it is right tobe so exclusive? You ought to favor the others with your company. As forme, I must say I prefer Foedric's society to yours, because he has somany interesting things to talk about, while you stick continually toone subject and give me little information even on that one. You knowI am a new-comer here and eager to learn all I can. Then there's thedoctor. I take more pleasure conversing with him than with you, for heseems to know more, or, at any rate, to be more able to tell me thingsI want to know about the earth. If the doctor were not here and you werethe only one to judge from, I should be obliged to think the people ofthe earth a very curious race. Your companion, however, appears to be aman of considerable sense."
Mona sang all this in her easy, natural way, being perfectly free fromany intention of wounding my feelings, but the more innocent I believedher the more incapable I saw she was of entering into my feelings.I began to realize how, in loving everybody, she missed a ce
rtainenjoyment derived from a more selfish order of love. It then occurredto me that a world full of such people as Mona must have rather amonotonous time from our point of view, and I asked her if she couldtell me about her race in general respecting the subject of ourconversation.
"Certainly," she replied, "I can tell you something from my ownrecollections, but more from our traditions."
"Well, were the men of the moon all sensible, or were they all like me?"
"Oh, I see you have a little sense as soon as you begin to talk in a newdirection. In answer to your question, let me say that the stress youhave put on our personal relations is something entirely new to me,and I do not see any use or advantage in it. This must be my excuse forspeaking so plainly. I should not have spoken so had I not known, inspite of what I have said, that you had too much sense to be offended."
"I thank you," I said. "Do not apologize for your words. I have takenthem as a needed rebuke for my haste in appropriating you to myself.But I believe, Mona, that the time will come when you will know thehappiness of loving one person so much that your love for all otherswill not be thought of in comparison. Happy will he be who, in that day,is able to prove the capacity of your great heart."
"Then, in that day," she responded, "shall I prove myself to be thedegenerate daughter of a noble race. No, my friend, we were not made ofsuch stuff. We loved everybody, without question and without limit. Wecould do nothing else, and to love one more than another was thereforeimpossible."
"Let me ask if everyone was worthy of being loved?"
"Why, as to that, we were all alike. What do you think of me?"
"You know what I think of you, Mona; or, if you do not, I will tellyou."
"Yes; you needn't tell me again. What I wanted to say is, that I am nobetter than the rest of my people were."
"What a world it must have been then," I exclaimed, "and how fortunatethat the earth did not discover it earlier. With such an example beforeus we should have been utterly discouraged."
When Mona had left me at the close of this conversation, I proceeded totake stock of my sensations. I had certainly been seeing a new phase ofMona's character. Could I make such vigorous language consistent with myformer conception of her? I answered yes to this question after studyingit awhile, for I concluded that she was only just in giving me a lessonthat I deserved. Her innocence was only the more evident, and that wasthe ground on which I built my faith in her. But now came the inquirywhether my love could withstand such a shock as it had received. I wasno longer blind to the truth. Mona had no stronger affection for me thanfor her other friends, and it began to be doubtful if she ever wouldhave, considering her peculiar education in affairs of the heart. If Icontinued to love her, it must be with the full knowledge that I had notas yet gained the slightest success in my effort to secure her for myown exclusive possession. My exuberant passion had received a seriousshock, for I had been plainly told that it was making me appearridiculous. Then, when there seemed to be danger that my love must growcold under such treatment, I began to argue Mona's cause to myself, andI bade myself take comfort once more in the old thoughts. She was youngand careless, besides being entirely new to our manner of wooing, andI had been too hasty in my approaches and no doubt tired her with mycontinuous solicitations. But then, on the other hand, I continued, thecase seemed much more hopeless than before after such a plain rebuff,and if I had any self-respect I could not continue to pay my court wheremy honest love was made a matter of jest.
These thoughts passed rapidly through my mind, and I cannot tell to whatrash resolve they would have led me had not the music of Mona's laughingvoice just then come floating in from another room. As usual, this wasmore than I could resist, and its immediate effect now was to driveout reason and to enthrone love once more. All my doubt and uncertaintyvanished in a twinkling, my self-respect hid itself in a dark cornerof my memory, and as I instinctively started to find the fair singer Irealized again, with a feeling too strong for argument, that I was stillvery much in love.