nstance,--at quite different hours from
those that are prevalent here. I find that every one who hears of this
is surprised at my ways. Their attitude, while not openly intolerant, is
distinctly disapproving. When I ask them why, I get no answer--no
rational answer. They say simply, 'It's the wrong time.' Following up
this clue I have noticed that not only is the time for performing an act
supposed to be sometimes 'wrong' and sometimes 'right,' but that the
idea of time governs all of you, like an absolute tyrant. Even your
so-called free-thinkers, who lead a life without God, never dream of
daring to live without a clock and a calendar. And just as the Waam-folk
are unconsciously obsessed by their hut-thought, and see everything from
that angle, so you have drifted into an exaggerated pre-occupation with
time. No matter what you may want to do, you first look at the clock, to
see if it is the right time for doing it: if it isn't, you wait. You
feel that you 'ought' to.... And each caste among you has its own hours.
A difference of thirty minutes in the hour at which a family has dinner,
marks a difference in their social scale. 'There isn't time,' you sigh,
submissively, when you give up something you'd like to do. 'Time is
money,' is one of your phrases. 'Give me time,' is your prayer. Your big
books of maxims are full of the respect you feel toward him. 'The
greatest crime is loss of time.' 'Time flies.' 'Time waits for no man.'
These are only small instances, but their total effect is not small, for
it is life itself that you sacrifice to this fetish. Your G'il actually
won't let you take good full draughts of existence--he keeps you so busy
dividing it into months, days, and minutes. You imagine that it is
because you lead crowded lives that you do it. But it is because you're
always thinking of time that you lead crowded lives.

"You are smiling at me good humoredly, my friend. I see that, like the
Waam Islanders, you think I am preposterous. It is the old story. You
cannot view yourself from without. You will admit that considerations of
time enter into all your acts, and yet--this seems trivial? And it is
inconceivable to you that you are its slaves?"

"My dear sir," I interposed, "a strict observance of the laws of time
enables a man to live a much fuller life."

"It is what all devotees say of all gods," he murmured.

"We are not its slaves," I continued. "That's absurd. We have only a
sensible regard for i