I had been invited by the Pater to lecture on the social, political, and economic conditions of the twentieth century. He had assumed that such a lecture would tend to strengthen the conservative and collectivist government; and Chairo had asked me to lecture at his hall in the hope, on the contrary, that it could be made to serve his own cause. I had been told that these lectures were usually followed by an open discussion, and I knew that it was from this discussion that both parties hoped to draw arguments to sustain their views respectively. Fearing, therefore, to become involved in their political animosities I had not yet decided whether I would lecture or not, so I answered: "I am not sure; I feel a little the need of understanding your own conditions better than I do, before undertaking to contrast them with those of our day." "We'll undertake to explain our conditions," she said, with an oblique smile at Balbus, "if you'll let us." "I could wish for no pleasanter instruction," I answered. "But I see you have Aunt Tiny," retorted she maliciously. "Oh, I haven't taken him in hand yet," said Aunt Tiny, taking the suggestion _au grand sérieux_, "but," she added encouragingly, "I will! I will!" Balbus threw his head back and laughed outrageously. "What are you laughing at, you goose!" said Neaera. "Let him laugh and enjoy himself," answered Aunt Tiny quickly, by way of discarding the thought that there could be in his laughter anything disobliging for herself. And Balbus, taking the cue, said: "We don't want Aunt Tiny to take you in hand for she is terribly persuasive"--the poor little thing giggled delightedly--"and we want you on our side." "I don't mean to be on either side," I answered. "I am your guest, and, as such, must confine myself to stating facts; you will have to draw your own conclusions." "That's right," said Neaera. "All we want are facts; the conclusion will be clear enough. For example, in your time, every man could choose his own occupation." "Undoubtedly," answered I. "And was not subjected to the humiliation of working in a factory because he would not be convenient to the party in control!" flashed out Neaera. I nodded my head gravely in approval. "Imagine any of the writers of your day compelled to work in a factory--Emerson, Browning, Longfellow!--and Tennyson--imagine Tennyson working in a factory!" "Abominable!" responded Balbus. "Abominable and absurd!" "Wasn't Burns a plough-boy?" said Ariston, "And Shakespeare a play-actor?" "A second-rate play-actor, too," echoed Lydia First, "and ended by lending money at usurious interest!" "He chose to be that," retorted Balbus. "What we are fighting for is the right to choose our calling." "But haven't you chosen yours?" asked I. "Isn't journalism of your choosing?" "But I have to work at the state factory at the bidding of the state," answered Balbus, "for half of every day."