“Like man, yes,” I answered; “but man was made for this world.  We are too apt to measure things by our own experience.  Why should we limit the potentiality of life by what we know of this planet?”

“In the next place,” went on Gazen, ignoring my remark, “the old astronomer’s plan of signalling by strong lights was quite impracticable.  No artificial light is capable of reaching to Mars.  Think of the immense distance and the two atmospheres to penetrate!  The man was mad, as mad as a March hare! though why a March hare is mad I’m sure I don’t know.”

“I read the other day of an electric light in America which can be seen 150 miles through the lower atmosphere.  Such a light, if properly directed, might be visible on Mars; and, for aught we know, the Martians may have discovered a still stronger beam.”

“And if they have, the odds against their signalling just when we are alive to the possibility of it are simply tremendous.”

“I see nothing incredible in the coincidence.  Two heads often conceive the same idea about the same time, and why not two planets, if the hour be ripe?  Surely there is one and the same inspiring Soul in all the universe.  Besides, they may have been signalling for centuries, off and on, without our knowing it.”

“Then, again,” said Gazen, with a pawky twinkle in his eye, “our electric light may have woke them up.”

“Perhaps they are signalling now,” said I, “while we are wasting precious time.  I wish you would look.”

“Yes, if you like; but I don’t think you’ll see any ’luminous projections,’ human or otherwise.”

“I shall see the face of Mars, anyhow, and that will be a rare experience.  It seems to me that a view of the heavenly bodies through a fine telescope, as well as a tour round the world, should form a part of a liberal education.  How many run to and fro upon the earth, hunting for sights at great trouble and expense, but how few even think of that sublimer scenery of the sky which can be seen without stirring far from home!  A peep at some distant orb has power to raise and purify our thoughts like a strain of sacred music, or a noble picture, or a passage from the grander poets.  It always does one good.”

Professor Gazen silently turned the great refracting telescope in the direction of Mars, and peered attentively through its mighty tube for several minutes.

“Is there any light?” I inquired.

“None,” he replied, shaking his head.  “Look for yourself.”

I took his place at the eye-piece, and was almost startled to find the little coppery star, which I had seen half-an-hour before, apparently quite near, and transformed into a large globe.  It resembled a gibbous moon, for a considerable part of its disc was illuminated by the sun.

A dazzling spot marked one of its poles, and the rest of its visible surface was mottled with ruddy and greenish tints which faded into white at the rim.  Fascinated by the spectacle of that living world, seen at a glance, and pursuing its appointed course through the illimitable ether, I forgot my quest, and a religious awe came over me akin to that felt under the dome of a vast cathedral.