The Eldorado of socialism, communism and anarchism; or, A trip to the planet Jupiter

Preface

PREFACE

Among the present civilized nations, the socalled socialistic party is pushing itself to the front with all means put at its disposal by the real evils, which were generated in the bosom of modern society by our squandering ways of living on one side they naturally cause acute discontent amongst the toiling masses, who constitute the bulk of struggling humanity, and have to live from hand to mouth. On the other side it rises to the highest pitch by the inborn greed for wealth and comfort. This perverted disposition of the heart will certainly throw its shadow on reason and stunt the sense of duty and morality. The principle of equality in worldly goods and comfort is invoked by socialistic leaders no matter whether they style themselves Socialists pure and simple, or Communists or even Anarchists. This equality may be all right in theory, but is entirely out of place in the present physical and moral conditions under which mankind is laboring and its application would precipitate Society into the lowest barbarism, unbearable slavery and brutal force.

Meantime it is hard to find an exact definition of each of these three different social systems even from the mouth or writings of their most prominent champions. To clear the way therefore to an unbiased discussion, I cm do nothing else than to give myself a definition of each, that the reader may know what I am talking about in this pamphlet. So then by Socialism I understand :

Equality of wealth and comfort among mankind.

By Communism: i

The same quality without any individual ownership.

By Anarchism:

The absence of all human authority, religious or civil.

Of course, these systems, singly or jointly must be intended even by their champions, to bring happiness to man on Earth. If they don’t they are uncalled for and not wanted by anybody.

This book has a double purpose.

1st. To demonstrate, that applied to the conditions under which we live here and which we can not change, this systems would pour more misery upon mankind and society than they already have to cope with.

2nd. That under quite reversed conditions, as my Story fancies to exist on the Planet Jupiter, these systems not only will pause happiness, but would be the right thing in the right place as

PREFACE the natural consequence of these conditions.

Dear friend, judge only after you have read the book through, not before. Do not think, either, it is a dry discussion of an old philosopher out of date, on the contrary, you will find in it an original fiction, a refreshing but instructive story bristling with episodes which will captivate your attention and keep your interest from beginning to end.

I hope, Dear Reader, you will not find it too daring on my part that I offer you something to read, which I cannot read rayself. The only excuse I can bring forward is that I became too blind to read any further. After all, I think, this is a pretty good excuse.

For the rest, may my pamphlet do to my fellowmen all the good it can. This will be my best reward.

THE MEETING OP AN OLD COLLEGE CHUM

Chapter I. The Meeting Of An Old College Chum

I am a born philosopher, we all are. The difference with me is only, that, since my happy college days, my mind has been entirely absorbed by metaphysical studies. I could have composed volumes of conclusions logically drawn from, at first sight evident principle. Did I know anything about practical life? I am sure, a shoeblack of New York could teach me a number of lessons in this. No matter. Lately some high sounding books of some learned social reformers had fallen into my hands and had lowered my mind to the level of every day life. One bright morning I had been scanning some socialistic writings, I found the great principle of Equality advocated by them, quite in order, but for my life, I could not see logical connection between this principle and the present state of humanity. It looked to me as if they were trying to teach a horse not to steal any oats, if he can get at them. It was nearly noon ; my brains were aching, and I was glad when my Negro waiter called me for dinner. When I left the table, I went out to the Park to find some diversion.

I had been strolling there for quite awhile, my whole attention was taken up in getting out of the way for the numberless vehicles and automobiles that were flying along. Suddenly I noticed an excited crowd encircling a large grass field. At nearly the same moment a balloon ascended straight up unto the air among the shouts and applauses of the bystanders. In the boat drawn up by the balloon was standing a man with a peculiar costume smiling to the multitude below, while he manoeuvered his airship with such ease and dexterity as if it was a mere lark soaring on high. I watched these proceedings with great interest until the airship with the same ease and grace returned to the identical place where it started from. I thought my brains had cleared up enough now and slowly I walked to the gate at the other side of the Park.

I was only a few steps from it, when a heavy hand was laid on my shoulders with the familiar outcry:

“Oh, Fred ; you here ? How glad to see you after so many years/*

I looked amazed. “Excuse me,” I muttered, “who are

you?**

“You must surely be in the clouds of high Philosophy, that you fail to recognize your old College-Protege the mischievous Charley Sport alias Charley Stuart.”

“Is that you, Charley, old boy,” came hurriedly from my

THE MEETING OF AN OLD COLLEGE CHUM quivering lips, while the threw himself into my arms. “ Who would recognize you under this strange costume? You are still leading a life of sport, I suppose, if I judge from your strappings”

“Yes, yes, Fred, I am sporting still, but in the high skies. I am the inventor of an absolutely controllable and safe airship. I thought it was you, when I looked down from the skies upon that lonely man standing at a distance.”

“Glad to hear all that,” I replied, “but, pardon me, Charley, you have to do with an incredulous Thomas in convincing me. I saw so many failures in that line.”

“My pardon is granted from the bottom of my heart. I know my old Mentor's kind heart. Know also, he is a stubborn philosopher.”

“Never mind, Charley, I was always convinced that there was something more in you than the sporting and mischievous College boy.”

“And you, Fred, are you still the incorribeable book worm?”

“That is my life’s pleasure. Of late, however, I got sidetracked.” My mind got diverted to the social question of to-day.

“Well, Fred, we are in the same ship again. My travels brought the social question forcibly to my attention. But I am hungry. Come with me to my hotel.”

“Charley,” I said, “I hate hotels. Be you my guest.”

“That depends, Fred, if you live in a barrel, like Diogenes or in the attic of an eight-story tenant house, I am sorry, I must decline. My trade and wanderings made me used to a high fashionable style.”

“You are mistaken, old boy,” I remonstrated, “I offer you for residence a Palace in the principal streets of New Orleans with plenty of servants and every modern comfort. Make it your home, as long as you stay in the city.”

“Of course I will, Fred. I congratulate you. Your philosophy was not so dry after all. It brought you a fortune.”

“No Charley,” I answered, “not my philosophy but that of an old aunt of mine made me extremely wealthy. She got lonesome in her lod days and she sought me out to stay with her. She left me everything that belon^d to her.”

Meantime, we had arrived at the gate. I hailed a bud-automobile. I gave orders to the chauffeur to pass by Charley’s hotel and get his trunks there. We soon reached my residence. Several black servants came running to see whether they could be of any service. I directed them to bring Charley Stuart’s trunk and luggage into the first suite of rooms upstairs, while I accompanied him thither, that he might dress over for supper. I told him a servant would be in waiting for him to show him into the dining room. During the meal we chatted about the careless happiness of our past College life.

The buoyancy, innocent mischief, and harmless pranks which enlivened the rather monotonous existence of the candidate for learning made the chief topic of our table talk. When the interior man got all he was craving for, we retired to my favorite spot, the Library.

“Now, Charley/’ I began, “are you really the inventor of that magnificent airship you went up in this afternoon?”

“Yes, you unbelieving Sage,” came back the answer with modest pride.

“I saw that you had perfect control of it at the time. Are you sure you can keep up that control under any adverse circumstance ?”

“Yes, Mr. Philosopher,” was the jovial reply. “That is just what I want to prove to you tonight, and for good reasons, I want you to make a balloon trip with me tomorrow morning at eight o’clock sharp.”

“I shall not risk my life for anybody,” I said decidedly.

“I won’t, either, Fred,” was the quick response, “and certainly I would not expose yours. That is why I am determined to convince you tonight of the perfect safety of my Airship. I know it will be hard work, but I am confident that you shall yield at last”

“Go ahead, old boy,” I answered rather softly, “I listen.”

“Now then, here goes my thesis,” began Charley with conviction.

Chapter II

“You know, Fred, what kind of a boy I was at our Alma Mater. I like more the Campus Field than the classroom. Mi. Fred Hartford, my wise Mentor, here present often times tried to check me in my sport. Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes he did not. Anyway, my kind Mentor, you did some good things for me. You infected me with some of your philosophical microbes, that I could never get rid of. When I was thrown into the cold world after completing my studies, I could not resist the attraction of ballooning, which just then had become the universal craze. I joined a ballooning club, became the most enthusiastic member, went wandering high in the sky at any occasion I found,

I had several narrow escapes, but this merely seemed to stimulate my appetite as a flying man, until finally I broke both ribs and for a long time lingered at the door of death. When I recovered, I had sense enough left to keep away for the moment at least from such a dangerous field. I betook myself to my Tusculum in retirement. There I felt your philosophical microbes began to rouse my brains in earnest, and I commenced to study the thorny question, whether an airship could not be constructed which would entirely safe. I had first to discover a plausible theory and test it thoroughly.”

I nodded approvingly, while Charley continued:

“My theory is this: A bird keeps itself up in the air, because by moving its wings, it displaces a greater weight of surrounding atmosphere than it weighs itself. As it makes longer or shorter strokes, it increases and decreases this displacement respectively. This made me think. The balloon, as it is commonly used, is only a partial substitute for the wings, it is supplemented by taking along ballast and the valve to let the gas escape. The throwing out of ballast is the longer stroke of the bird’s wings, and the Airship rises, the escape of gas is the shorter stroke and it goes lower. The metod is certainly a very bothersome and wasteful one. In my Airship I did away with both ballast and escape of gas. To effect this, I reasoned thus: The gas in the balloon, whether contracted or expanded, retains the same weight, but not the same bulk or extension. By contracting the gas, imprisoned in the balloon, it will displace a lesser weight of atmosphere, so though it keeps the same weight itself. Consequently it will descend. By expanding the gas, it displaces more atmosphere, without increasing its own weight, and it has to rise. The great difficulty was to find ways and means to effect this with safety. I had to discover first a very pliable and very strong kind of canvass or stuff that could stand any amount of tension, without breaking. This I found after a great deal of trouble. For safety’s sake however my balloon has an inward and outward cover, to increase its resistance against extreme tension and make the contracting of the gas easier. I had to find now some device to contract the balloon to its least possible dimension. I imagined a funnel-shaped something with the thread of a screw inside, attached to one pole of the balloon. If this could be made to turn the right way, when electrically connected with the motor in the ship, so to wind up the outward cover of the balloon more and more, and reduce the extension without any escape of gas, the balloon would go down. To let the airship rise again, I would only have to

A PERFECTLY SAFE AND CONTROLLABLE AIRSHIP ?

loosen the electric hold a little and the natural tendency of the contracted gas to expand would do the rest. The balloon would assume larger dimensions and lift the ship higher up. The final question now was to crystalize my idea. I had to do work by halves and I went directly to the greatest discoverer of the most daring modern inventions, Mr. Edison. I entered his Sanctum with trembling heart and hat in hand:

“ ‘Mr. Edison, I wish to submit to your judgment the idea of a safe and controllable balloon/ ”

“ ‘Oh, young man/ was his short reply, ‘if God wanted men to fly, He would have given him wings. There is something better for you to do in this world than that. If I would listen to all the foolish ideas with which they come to me, I had better close my Laboratory forever/ ”

“ T will be brief, Mr. Edison. Give me only a couple of minutes of your valuable time. If you think my ideas impracticable, I shall not bother my head about it any longer/ ”

“ ‘Go on then/ ” he muttered.

“I related my idea, as briefly and distinctly as I was able. His severe eyes were fastened on me. Soon his countenance cleared up. He began to listen with the greatest attention. When I finished, he said with a smile:

“ ‘Indeed, your idea has something new in it. Bring your canvass in to my Laboratory, and I shall see what I can make out of it/ ” /

“I called my servant standing outside. “ ‘Here it is/ I said briefly.

“When I left, he merely told me:

“ ‘Come back within eight days/

“You may imagine that I did not forget the allotted time. My heart was throbbing with great expectation on my way to Edison’s workshop, and at the same time with fear for the final sentence of my severe judge. When I presented myself before him, he simply showed me my canvass lying on the floor. Between its poles I noticed something like a football, while each end presented a bushy tail of canvas.

“ ‘Your balloon stuff is all right/ said Mr. Edison. ‘It will stand any amount of tension. Feel that football/

“I did so. It was as hard as a stone.

“ ‘That football/ continued the Master, ‘contains all the gas you need to fiill your immense balloon. I had to make one correction. You had only one funnel screw. This might be all right, where the pole opposite to the one funnel is fixed to something stationary, so that the balloon could not turn at that pole. In that case your single funnel would drive the gas towards that pole, concentrate it there and lessen its volume without lessening its weight. It could not effect this in free air, where your opposite pole is attached to nothing. It would there make both poles turn the same way and the whole balloon to without any concentration whatever. If however you attach to each pole such a funnel turning against each other in different or opposite directions, the necessary effect will be that the gas is pushed and concentrated in the middle of that balloon canvass, whether in free air or not. When you lessen the screwing at one pole or at both the gas again will rush towards the point of loosening and assume more volume. Compression is not the natural state of gas and it will by itself resume its natural state. At the first chance it gets, it loosens by itself the screw, if it can overcome the tightening. Now I shall make it work.

“A little back of the train of canvass was a motor, a little machine of which I could certainly not give a definition. Mr. Edison put the electric current on. My football got life. It swelled up, lifted itself from the floor until it reached the high ceiling. All this was done by the funnel-shaped screws attached to the ball which retreated while the gas found room to expand within its prison. The balloon was held near the ceilnig, until the Electrician made the funnels turn the other way. The balloon descended at leisure, until it lay again motionless on the floor.

“‘Are you satisfied?’ was Mr. Edison’s question.

“‘Yes,’ I rejoined, ‘and I am infinitely grateful to you.’

“Without noticing my excitement, he showed me how everything worked.

“ ‘This,’ pointing to the strange machine behind, ‘is an exciter of electricity. You will need it on your travels through the sky, where, or anywhere near, you will not find an electric plant to replenish your battery, and here,’ he continued, handing me a big paper, ‘is a patent of your invention right straight from Washington.’

“I was overwhelmed with emotion.

“ ‘I will pay you any amount for your trouble,' I faltered, ‘just name the figures.’

“ ‘Not at all,’ answered the good man, ‘I am old. I have more money than I need. You are young and may need it. As a token of my interest I make also a present to you of this motor and electric exciter, which I worked out especially for this purpose.’

“He dismissed me with a hearty handshake.”

“Brave Charley,” I broke in, “such an authority as Mr. Edison’s is worth a volume of dry arguments.”

“Do not make me lose the thread of my thesis now, I am nearly through. Since that time I am the favorite of that magnanimous, unassuming genius, and found in him always a ready advisor. He even condescended to be present at the first test of my invention in the open air, and started himself the frenetic applause. Do not think that this was the only test. To destroy all your scruples of conscience, I add, that many times I crossed the ocean in my airship and even went in it far beyond the clouds and never had the least accident or mishap. I feel safer in my flying canoe than on the train or the steamboat.”

“I will share your sky-stroll tomorrow, you invincible tempter,” was my conclusion.

“Thank you, old man,” was the cheerful return, looking at his watch. “But it is more than time to go to bed. Let us retire.”

So we did.

Chapter III

Next morning we were early birds. I gave instructions to my chauffeur to have my automobile in readiness after breakfast to drive to the Park. On our way Charley informed me that he was booked to make an ascension at eight o’clock.

“I must work my airship straight up,” he explained, “five miles into the heavens, then turn off towards the ocean to where a steamboat is stationed five miles off shore and then return as I please, provided that I am back at nine o’clock and come straight down again on my starting point. But, Fred, I do not do that for nothing. There is a price of twenty-five thousand dollars at stake and I am sure to win. I need some pocket money anyway, but you must take half of the price. You share in the fun, you shall share in the profits too.”

“No, never, you foolish boy. I have more of that stuff than I know what to do with.”

“Oh, oh, Fred, why all these wise heads try to make a spoiled boy out of me, with their magnanimity. I trust I’ll find an opportunity in the future to repay them for it and get even.”

At this juncture the chauffeur stopped the vehicle.

“Here we are,” said Charley, alighting. “Look at my riggings there and satisfy your critical eye.”

All I saw was a confused pile of queer canvass, anchored to the ground, a light boat, that could contain several persons. A motor and a hand dynamo was in the boat.

“The balloon must be filled with gas,” explained Charley, “to its full capacity, before I can put in my work, and hence the anchors, that it should not escape me. I ordered the balloon to be connected with the Gasplant.”

The canvass felt the breath of life and began to wriggle like a giant snake, while her dimensions increased, the balloon grew more active, restless and impatient to break loose from her fetters. She was indeed a monster in size, when filled with gas to her full capacity.

“I shall begin now to subdue that monster,” muttered Charley. “The funnel screw and electricity will do it.”

He put on a strong current. The screws turned rapidly towards each other in the opposite direction. The gas retreated to the center of its prison, as if ashamed to be vanquished so eas ily. At last the immense bulk was concentrated into a ball about twice the size of an ordinary football. The anchors were lifted and removed and the elephant of a moment ago lay lifeless and hipless again as a stone.

“It is time now to embark,” said Charley to me. “A minute to eight,” as he looked at his time-piece.

Just at this moment the members of the Committee approached and handed over to Charley a document with a weight on it that he had to transfer to the Captain of the steamboat, which would be the terminus of our trip. We embarked. Charley began gradually to weaken the current. The compressed gas got some life again, drove the funnels slowly back, took possession of the room so gained and lifted up its head in triumph. The Park was literally one continuous mass of humanity.

We ascended high into the sky. A cry of good luck sounded from one end of the Park to the other. Hats flew high over the heads of the crowd. A clapping of hands, a waving of handkerchiefs. All this made me forget the danger and drove every kind of fear from my mind. We were now far above the beautiful Queen of the Gulf. But what charming bird’s view I enjoyed of my beloved New Orleans. All this occupied my attention so much that I did not notice it, when Charley turned off towards the ocean. I was only reminded of this when I heard the noisy waves miles beneath my feet. I looked down. I nearly became dizzy from the bright rays of our Southern sun, reflected by these waves in my eyes. Suddenly I felt we were sinking.

“Oh, Charley, I cried, “are we going to the bottom of the

Sea ?”

“No,” he replied, “do not you see that Steamer beneath us? That is our Terminus. There I must report.”

That Steamer looked to me like a toy-boat. Lilliputian saliors were running hither and thither, waving little baby hands and caps. All this became greater and stouter as we went lower, until a pretty good sized Steamer showed herself to our gaze, manned with rough and burly seamen. A roaring applause now rent the air formidable enough to scare the sharks back into the deep. Charley meantime circled three times around the boat. Then he threw the Committee’s document with its weight on the deck of the Steamcraft, while the Captain, with a long pole, handed his own paper to Charley as a proof that everything was all right.

“I congratulate you, Mr. Stuart,” said the Captain, at the same time. You are a splendid sky-scraper, but I bet you fifty dollars that I will be in port before you.”

“You will surely lose it, Captain,” said Charley softly.

“Never mind,” came back the curt answer of the seaman. “Do you accept it?”

“Let it be then,” replied Charley, and up we flew again. The Captain put on full steam at once. With mighty strides did the ship cleave the powerful waves. The Captain had constantly pointed his Telescope towards us. We were at a pretty good height again, when Charley turned the airship towards the East.

“Are we going to London or Paris?” I muttered.

“Hush, Fred, I must have some fun with that braggert of a Captain.”

Soon the Steamboat slackened her speed. Charley noticed it.

“That is right,” he cried. “That fellow would have risked his whole ship and several lives, including his own, for fifty dollars that he will never gain anyhow.”

By this time we were out of sight.

“I’ll turn right around,” said Charley, “and steer directly to New Orleans.”

So he did, and a quarter to nine we were descending again from the clouds, this time though to the grassy plot in the Park. Quite a number of the crowd had left not expecting us back so soon. A couple of the Committee men were present to accept the ship-Captains testimonials. Charley hurried up to relieve the balloon of its straining gas and store everything away in the nearby warehouse.

“Now let us go to the nearest restaurant/’ said Charley, “I am hungry and thirsty and I need some rest. That Captain will not be back before ten o’clock.”

So we did, and returned at a quarter to ten. We closed ourselves up in the warehouse, waiting events. At about ten ws heard a horse galloping in full speed towards the warehouse.

“That is the Captain,” whispered Charley. “Attention, Fred, while peeping through the window.”

The rider scanned the grassy space, where the balloon should have been.

“Not here yet,” he vociferated with triumphant gesticulations. “Hurrah ! The flying man lost the bet. He is not master yet of the sky.”

Charley suddenly opened the door and appeared on the threshold.

“What do you mean, Captain ?” he said cooly.

“Hum,” grumbled the Captain. “You here, Mr. Stuart? I am dumbfounded. I thought you lost your bearings and imagined you might be by now half to Paris or Queenstown. So I did not see any need for hurrying up.”

Here Charley could not help breaking out into a merry laughter.

“You scoundrel,” continued the Blue-jacket, “you fooled me. Never mind, you did it right. You are a greater genius than I thought you were. I am afraid, pretty soon you will bring the whole Ocean Fleet to a forced strike, and we, poor Sea stragglers, will be out of a job. Say, Mr. Stuart, take me as an apprentice, that I may be an air Captain, before it goes so far.”

“No danger,” consoled Charley, “I hardly believe the airship will ever entirely supplant the huge Ocean steamer with its immense cargoes. At any rate the steamer will last longer than your lifetime.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stuart,” rejoined the Captain meekly, “Here are your fifty dollars.”

“No, no,” said Charley, “it was only a joke.”

“No matter, I lost it,” and the Captain threw a bundle of bank-notes to Charley, jumping on his steed and rode off at a faster gait even than he had come.

Chapter IV. A Challenge From San Francisco

At dinner that day Charley was flowing over with his old boyish but pleasing mischief. He was just half through cracking some jokes on my rusty philosophy, when Jack, my black errand boy, entered the dining room. He made a big bow before Charley.

“Massey Stuart," he said, “here am a telegram for your Honor"

Charley opened it and read:

San Francisco, June the 12th, 1904.

To MR. CHARLES STUART,

New Orleans.

On the 24th of June, a prize ascension will take place here. $100,000 for him who reaches the greatest height. Santos Dumont will be here with his Airship. We want you too. Do you accept?

“That tickles me," muttered Charley. “Santos Dumont is not an easy match. But that is just what I want. Fred," he said, turning towards me, “did you enjoy your trip this morning?"

“Immensely," was my answer.

“Go with me then to San Francisco. I'll make you go higher than your philosophy could ever bring you. Moreover I am sure I shall be in need sometimes of your wise head."

“Well, joker, I shall wander through the skies with you once more. I hope you won’t drag me to the Moon."

“Thank you, Fred, so I take up the challenge. Never mind the Moon, though. If we land there, you will find a new field for your transcendant thoughts."

He took a piece of paper and wrote :

“I accept the contest."

“Where is Jack?" he said.

The dusky boy had retired back of Charley, and during the discussion was grinning and smiling and always rolling his white eyeballs. Hearing the call, he answered meekly :