There were, no matter where, two towns called Fooltown and Babytown.
They completed at great cost a highway from the one town to the other.
When this was done, Fooltown said to herself, "See how Babytown
inundates us with her products; we must see to it." In consequence, they
created and paid a body of _obstructives_, so called because their
business was to place _obstacles_ in the way of traffic coming from
Babytown. Soon afterwards Babytown did the same.
At the end of some centuries, knowledge having in the interim made great
progress, the common sense of Babytown enabled her to see that such
reciprocal obstacles could only be reciprocally hurtful. She therefore
sent a diplomatist to Fooltown, who, laying aside official phraseology,
spoke to this effect:
"We have made a highway, and now we throw obstacles in the way of using
it. This is absurd. It would have been better to have left things as
they were. We should not, in that case, have had to pay for making the
road in the first place, nor afterwards have incurred the expense of
maintaining _obstructives_. In the name of Babytown, I come to propose
to you, not to give up opposing each other all at once,--that would be
to act upon a principle, and we despise principles as much as you
do,--but to lessen somewhat the present obstacles, taking care to
estimate equitably the respective _sacrifices_ we make for
this purpose."
So spoke the diplomatist. Fooltown asked for time to consider the
proposal, and proceeded to consult in succession her manufacturers and
agriculturists. At length, after the lapse of some years, she declared
that the negotiations were broken off. On receiving this intimation, the
inhabitants of Babytown held a meeting. An old gentleman (they always
suspected he had been secretly bought by Fooltown) rose and said:--"The
obstacles created by Fooltown injure our sales, which is a misfortune.
Those which we have ourselves created injure our purchases, which is
another misfortune. With reference to the first, we are powerless; but
the second rests with ourselves. Let us at least get quit of one, since
we cannot rid ourselves of both evils. Let us suppress our
_obstructives_ without requiring Fooltown to do the same. Some day, no
doubt, she will come to know her own interests better."
A second counselor, a practical, matter-of-fact man, guiltless of any
acquaintance with principles, and brought up in the ways of his
forefathers, replied--
"Don't listen to that Utopian dreamer, that theorist, that innovator,
that economist; that _Stultomaniac_. We shall all be undone if the
stoppages of the road are not equalized, weighed, and balanced between
Fooltown and Babytown. There would be greater difficulty in _going_ than
in _coming_, in _exporting_ than in _importing_. We should find
ourselves in the same condition of inferiority relatively to Fooltown,
as Havre, Nantes, Bordeaux, Lisbon, London, Hamburg, and New Orleans,
are with relation to the towns situated at the sources of the Seine, the
Loire, the Garonne, the Tagus, the Thames, the Elbe, and the
Mississippi; for it is more difficult for a ship to ascend than to
descend a river. [_A Voice_--'Towns at the _embouchures_ of rivers
prosper more than towns at their source.'] This is impossible. [_Same
Voice_--'But it is so.'] Well, if it be so, they have prospered
_contrary to rules_."
Reasoning so conclusive convinced the assembly, and the orator followed
up his victory by talking largely of national independence, national
honor, national dignity, national labor, inundation of products,
tributes, murderous competition. In short, he carried the vote in favor
of the maintenance of obstacles; and if you are at all curious on the
subject, I can point out to you countries, where you will see with your
own eyes Roadmakers and Obstructives working together on the most
friendly terms possible, under the orders of the same legislative
assembly, and at the expense of the same taxpayers, the one set
endeavoring to clear the road, and the other set doing their utmost to
render it impassable.