ulterior motive, some wish to censure or satirize."

"Oh, not at all," I protested, for it was not polite to admit a conjecture
so accurate. "We are so well satisfied with our condition that we have
nothing but pity for the darkened mind of the foreigner, though we believe
in it fully: we are used to the English tourist."

My friends laughed, and the Altrurian continued: "I am very glad to hear
it, for I feel myself at a peculiar disadvantage among you. I am not only
a foreigner, but I am so alien to you in all the traditions and habitudes
that I find it very difficult to get upon common ground with you. Of
course, I know theoretically what you are, but to realize it practically
is another thing. I had read so much about America and understood so
little that I could not rest without coming to see for myself. Some of the
apparent contradictions were so colossal--"

"We have everything on a large scale here," said the banker, breaking off
the ash of his cigar with the end of his little finger, "and we rather
pride ourselves on the size of our inconsistencies, even. I know something
of the state of things in Altruria, and, to be frank with you, I will say
that it seems to me preposterous. I should say it was impossible, if it
were not an accomplished fact; but I always feel bound to recognize the
thing done. You have hitched your wagon to a star, and you have made the
star go; there is never any trouble with wagons, but stars are not easily
broken to harness, and you have managed to get yours well in hand. As I
said, I don't believe in you, but I respect you." I thought this charming,
myself; perhaps because it stated my own mind about Altruria so exactly
and in terms so just and generous.

"Pretty good," said the doctor, in a murmur of satisfaction, at my ear,