One afternoon, many months after the crack in the wall had been sealed, Xanocles and I found ourselves preparing for a strenuous session at the Hall of Public Enlightenment. It had been rumored that the day’s meeting was to be unusually interesting, and Xanocles and I were secretly determined to make it so; hence, when we arrived at the sapphire and amber theatre and found almost all the seats occupied, we felt that we had every reason to congratulate ourselves. We took chairs in the rear, and quietly awaited our turn. A discussion was in progress regarding the award of honor to be made to a certain lyric poet. (I do not know quite what the issue was, for I did not listen attentively.) But everyone understood that this was not to be the topic of the day; and after the question had been settled, a momentary hush came over the audience and many pairs of eyes were bent toward us inquiringly. Then it was that Xanocles arose. At a gesture from that same broad-browed elderly woman who had presided when Gavison and his crew had been brought to trial long before, my friend stepped out into the aisle and down to the central platform or stage, while all eyes followed him intently and a speechless lull dominated that great assemblage. “Fellow citizens,” he said, not taking time even for an instant’s pause after reaching the foot of the stairs, “I am here today to make one of the most momentous proposals ever presented since Agripides pleaded for the Submergence. But it is not a proposal that has never been put forth before; it is merely one that has never been endorsed. It has been, indeed, at the very backbone of the Party of Emergence, and will continue to be argued and preached until it meets with that success which it merits. For it is impossible, my friends, that Atlantis should retain its age-old isolation; modern progress makes such backwardness inconceivable, as the arrival of thirty-nine men from outside has demonstrated. I am certain that if Agripides himself were here now he would agree that our policies must be revised.” Here Xanocles paused as if for emphasis; but the audience remained intently silent, and with increased forcefulness he continued, “The question of emigration, my friends, is one of the most important that can confront any land. Never in the last three thousand years has Atlantis had an adequate law on this subject; our prohibition of emigration has been a form of intolerance unworthy of the high traditions of our people; and free emigration, if forbidden by the arbitrary conventions of society, is justified by the mandates of nature and the normal human craving for romance and adventure.