CHAPTER XXIII.

POLITICAL BOUNDARIES—POLITICAL RIGHTS—POLITICAL SELECTIONS, AND

POLITICAL DISQUISITIONS; WITH POLITICAL RESULTS.

The aquatic mile-stones of the monikin seas have been already

mentioned; but I believe I omitted to say, that there was a line of

demarcation drawn in the water, by means of a similar invention, to

point out the limits of the jurisdiction of each state. Thus, all

within these water-marks was under the laws of Leaphigh; all between

them and those of some other country, was the high seas; and all within

those of the other country, Leaplow for instance, was under the

exclusive jurisdiction of that other country.

With a favorable wind, the Walrus could run to the watermarks in about

half a day; from thence to the water-marks of Leaplow was two days’

sail, and another half day was necessary to reach our haven. As we drew

near the legal frontiers of Leaphigh, several small fast-sailing

schooners were seen hovering just without the jurisdiction of the king,

quite evidently waiting our approach. One boarded us, just as the outer

edge of the spanker-boom got clear of the Leaphigh sovereignty. Judge

People’s Friend rushed to the side of the ship, and before the crew of

the boat could get on deck, he had ascertained that the usual number of

prizes had been put into the little wheel.

A monikin in a bob of a most pronounced character, or which appeared to

have been subjected to the second amputation, being what is called in

Leaplow a bob-upon-bob, now approached, and inquired if there were any

emigrants on board. He was made acquainted with our characters and

objects. When he understood that our stay would most likely be short,

he was evidently a little disappointed.

“Perhaps, gentlemen,” he added, “you may still remain long enough to

make naturalization desirable?”

“It is always agreeable to be at home in foreign countries—but are

there no legal objections?”

“I see none, sir—you have no tails, I believe?”

“None but what are in our trunks. I did not know, however, but the

circumstance of our being of a different species might throw some

obstacles in the way.”

“None in the world, sir. We act on principles much too liberal for so

narrow an objection. You are but little acquainted with the

institutions and policy of our beloved and most happy country, I see,

sir. This is not Leaphigh, nor Leapup, nor Leapdown, nor Leapover, nor

Leapthrough, nor Leapunder; but good old, hearty, liberal, free and

independent, most beloved, happy, and prosperous beyond example,

Leaplow. Species is of no account under our system. We would as soon

naturalize one animal as another, provided it be a republican animal. I

see no deficiency about any of you. All we ask is certain general

principles. You go on two legs—”

“So do turkeys, sir.”

“Very true—but you have no feathers.”

“Neither has a donkey.”

“All very right, gentlemen—you do not bray, however.”

“I will not answer for that,” put in the captain, sending his leg

forwards in a straight line, in a way to raise an outcry in Bob, that

almost upset the Leaplower’s proposition.

“At all events, gentlemen,” he observed, “there is a test that will put

the matter at rest, at once.”

He then desired us, in turn, to pronounce the word “our”—“OUR

liberties”—“OUR country”—“OUR firesides”—“OUR altars,” Whoever

expressed a wish to be naturalized, and could use this word in the

proper manner, and in the proper place, was entitled to be a citizen.

We all did very well but the second mate, who, being a Herefordshire

man, could not, for the life of him, get any nearer to the Doric, in

the latter shibboleth, than “our halters.” Now, it would seem that, in

carrying out a great philanthropic principle in Leaplow, halters had

been proscribed; for, whenever a rogue did anything amiss, it had been

discovered that, instead of punishing him for the offence, the true way

to remedy the evil was to punish the society against which he had

offended. By this ingenious turn, society was naturally made to look

out sharp how it permitted any one to offend it. This excellent idea is

like that of certain Dutchmen, who, when they cut themselves with an

ax, always apply salve and lint to the cruel steel, and leave the wound

to heal as fast as possible.

To return to our examination: we all passed but the second mate, who

hung in his halter, and was pronounced to be incorrigible. Certificates

of naturalization were delivered on the spot, the fees were paid, and

the schooner left us.

That night it blew a gale, and we had no more visitors until the

following morning. As the sun rose, however, we fell in with three

schooners, under the Leaplow flag, all of which seemed bound on errands

of life or death. The first that reached us sent a boat on board, and a

committee of six bob-upon-bobs hurried up our sides, and lost no time

in introducing themselves. I shall give their own account of their

business and characters.

It would seem that they were what is called a “nominating committee” of

the Horizontals, for the City of Bivouac, the port to which we were

bound, where an election was about to take place for members of the

great National Council. Bivouac was entitled to send seven members; and

having nominated themselves, the committee were now in quest of a

seventh candidate to fill the vacancy. In order to secure the

naturalized interests, it had been determined to select as new a comer

as possible. This would also be maintaining the principle of

liberality, in the abstract. For this reason they had been cruising for

a week, as near as the law would allow to the Leaphigh boundaries, and

they were now ready to take any one who would serve.

To this proposition I again objected the difference of species. Here

they all fairly laughed in my face, Brigadier Downright included,

giving me very distinctly to understand that they thought I had very

contracted notions on matters and things, to suppose so trifling an

obstacle could disturb the harmony and unity of a Horizontal vote. They

went for a principle, and the devil himself could not make them swerve

from the pursuit of so sacred an object.

I then candidly admitted that nature had not fitted me, as admirably as

it had fitted my friend the judge, for the throwing of summersets; and

I feared that when the order was given “to go to the right about,” I

might be found no better than a bungler. This staggered them a little;

and I perceived that they looked at each other in doubt.

“But you can, at least, turn round suddenly, at need?” one of them

asked, after a pause.

“Certainly, sir,” I answered, giving ocular evidence that I was no idle

boaster, making a complete gyration on my heels, in very good time.

“Very well!—admirably well!” they all cried in a breath. “The great

political essential is to be able to perform the evolutions in their

essence—the facility with which they are performed being no more than a

personal merit.”

“But, gentlemen, I know little more of your constitution and laws, than

I have learned in a few broken discussions with my fellow-travellers.”

“This is a matter of no moment, sir. Our constitution, unlike that of

Leaphigh, is written down, and he who runs can read; and then we have a

political fugleman in the house, who saves an immense deal of

unnecessary study and reflection to the members. All you will have to

do, will be to watch his movements; and, my life on it, you will go as

well through the manual exercise as the oldest member there.”

“How, sir, do all the members take the manoeuvres from this fugleman?”

“All the Horizontals, sir—the Perpendiculars having a fugleman of their

own.”

“Well, gentlemen, I conceive this to be an affair in which I am no

judge, and I put myself entirely in the hands of my friends.”

This answer met with much commendation, and manifested, as they all

protested, great political capabilities; the statesman who submitted

all to his friends never failing to rise to eminence in Leaplow. The

committee took my name in writing and hastened back to their schooner,

in order to get into port to promulgate the nomination. These persons

were hardly off the deck, before another party came up the opposite

side of the ship. They announced themselves to be a nominating

committee of the Perpendiculars, on exactly the same errand as their

opponents. They, too, wished to propitiate the foreign interests, and

were in search of a proper candidate. Captain Poke had been an

attentive listener to all that occurred during the circumstances that

preceded my nomination; and he now stepped promptly forward, and

declared his readiness to serve. As there was quite as little

squeamishness on one side as on the other, and the Perpendicular

committee, as it owned itself, was greatly pressed for time, the

Horizontals having the start of them, the affair was arranged in five

minutes, and the strangers departed with the name of NOAH POKE, THE

TRIED PATRIOT, THE PROFOUND JURIST, AND THE HONEST MONIKIN, handsomely

placarded on a large board—all but the name having been carefully

prepared in advance.

When the committee were fairly out of the ship, Noah look me aside, and

made his apologies for opposing me in this important election. His

reasons were numerous and ingenious, and, as usual, a little

discursive. They might be summed up as follows: He never had sat in a

parliament, and he was curious to know how it would feel; it would

increase the respect of the ship’s company, to find their commander of

so much account in a strange port; he had had some experience at

Stunnin’tun by reading the newspapers, and he didn’t doubt of his

abilities at all, a circumstance that rarely failed of making a good

legislator; the congressman in his part of the country was some such

man as himself, and what was good for the goose was good for the

gander; he knew Miss Poke would be pleased to hear he had been chosen;

he wondered if he should be called the Honorable Noah Poke, and whether

he should receive eight dollars a day, and mileage from the spot where

the ship then was; the Perpendiculars might count on him, for his word

was as good as his bond; as for the constitution, he had got on under

the constitution at home, and he believed a man who could do that might

get on under any constitution; he didn’t intend to say a great deal in

parliament, but what he did say he hoped might be recorded for the use

of his children; together with a great deal more of the same sort of

argumentation and apology.

The third schooner now brought us to. This vessel sent another

committee, who announced themselves to be the representatives of a

party that was termed the Tangents. They were not numerous, but

sufficiently so to hold the balance whenever the Horizontals and the

Perpendiculars crossed each other directly at right angles, as was the

case at present; and they had now determined to run a single candidate

of their own. They, too, wished to fortify themselves by the foreign

interest, as was natural, and had come out in quest of a proper person.

I suggested the first mate; but against this Noah protested, declaring

that come what would, the ship must on no account be deserted. Time

pressed; and, while the captain and the subordinate were hotly

disputing the propriety of permitting the latter to serve, Bob, who had

already tasted the sweets of political importance, in his assumed

character of prince-royal, stepped slyly up to the committee, and gave

in his name. Noah was too much occupied to discover this well-managed

movement; and by the time he had sworn to throw the mate overboard if

he did not instantly relinquish all ambitious projects of this nature,

he found that the Tangents were off. Supposing they had gone to some

other vessel, the captain allowed himself to be soothed, and all went

on smoothly again.

From this time until we anchored in the bay of Bivouac, the

tranquillity and discipline of the Walrus were undisturbed. I improved

the occasion to study the constitution of Leaplow, of which the judge

had a copy, and to glean such information from my companions as I

believed might be useful in my future career. I thought how pleasant it

would be for a foreigner to teach the Leaplowers their own laws, and to

explain to them the application of their own principles! Little,

however, was to be got from the judge, who was just then too much

occupied with some calculations concerning the chances of the little

wheel, with which he had been furnished by a leading man of one of the

nominating committees.

I now questioned the brigadier touching that peculiar usage of his

country which rendered Leaphigh opinions concerning the Leaplow

institutions, society, and manners of so much value in the market of

the latter. To this I got but an indifferent answer, except it was to

say, that his countrymen, having cleared the interests connected with

the subjects from the rubbish of time, and set everything at work, on

the philosophical basis of reason and common sense, were exceedingly

desirous of knowing what other people thought of the success of the

experiment.

“I expect to see a nation of sages, I can assure you, brigadier; one in

which even the very children are profoundly instructed in the great

truths of your system; and, as to the monikinas, I am not without dread

of bringing my theoretical ignorance in collision with their great

practical knowledge of the principles of your government.”

“They are early fed on political pap.”

“No doubt, sir, no doubt. How different must they be from the females

of other countries! Deeply imbued with the great distinctive principles

of your system, devoted to the education of their children in the same

sublime truths, and indefatigable in their discrimination, among the

meanest of their households!”

“Hum!”

“Now, sir, even in England, a country which I trust is not the most

debased on earth, you will find women, beautiful, intellectual,

accomplished and patriotic, who limit their knowledge of these

fundamental points to a zeal for a clique, and the whole of whose

eloquence on great national questions is bounded by a few heartfelt

wishes for the downfall of their opponents;—”

“It is very much so at Stunnin’tun, too, if truth must be spoken,”

remarked Noah, who had been a listener.

“Who, instead of instructing the young suckers that cling to their

sides in just notions of general social distinctions, nurture their

young antipathies with pettish philippics against some luckless chief

of the adverse party;—”

“Tis pretty much the same at Stunnin’tun, as I live!”

“Who rarely study the great lessons of history in order to point out to

the future statesmen and heroes of the empire the beacons of crime, the

incentives for public virtue, or the charters of their liberties; but

who are indefatigable in echoing the cry of the hour, however false or

vulgar, and who humanize their attentive offspring by softly expressed

wishes that Mr. Canning, or some other frustrator of the designs of

their friends, were fairly hanged!”

“Stunnin’tun, all over!”

“Beings that are angels in form—soft, gentle, refined, and tearful as

the evening with its dews, when there is a question of humanity or

suffering; but who seem strangely transformed into she-tigers, whenever

any but those of whom they can approve attain to power; and who,

instead of entwining their soft arms around their husbands and

brothers, to restrain them from the hot strife of opinions, cheer them

on by their encouragement and throw dirt with the volubility and wit of

fish-women.”

“Miss Poke, to the backbone!”

“In short, sir, I expect to see an entirely different state of things

at Leaplow. There, when a political adversary is bespattered with mud,

your gentle monikinas, doubtless, appease anger by mild soothings of

philosophy, tempering zeal by wisdom, and regulating error by apt and

unanswerable quotations from that great charter which is based on the

eternal and immutable principles of right.”

“Well, Sir John, if you speak in this elocutionary manner in the

house,” cried the delighted Noah, “I shall be shy of answering. I

doubt, now, if the brigadier himself could repeat all you have just

said.”

“I have forgotten to inquire, Mr. Downright, a little about your

Leaplow constituency. The suffrage is, beyond question, confined to

those members of society who possess a ‘social stake.’”

“Certainly, Sir John, They who live and breathe.”

“Surely none vote but those who possess the money, and houses, and

lands of the country?”

“Sir, you are altogether in error; all vote who possess ears, and eyes,

and noses, and bobs, and lives, and hopes, and wishes, and feelings,

and wants. Wants we conceive to be a much truer test of political

fidelity, than possessions.”

“This is novel doctrine, indeed! but it is in direct hostility to the

social-stake system.”

“You were never more right, Sir John, as respects your own theory, or

never more wrong as respects the truth. In Leaplow we contend—and

contend justly—that there is no broader or bolder fallacy than to say

that a representation of mere effects, whether in houses, lands,

merchandise, or money, is a security for a good government. Property is

affected by measures; and the more a monikin has, the greater is the

bribe to induce him to consult his own interests, although it should be

at the expense of those of everybody else.”

“But, sir, the interest of the community is composed of the aggregate

of these interests.”

“Your pardon, Sir John; nothing is composed of it, but the aggregate of

the interests of a class. If your government is instituted for their

benefit only, your social-stake system is all well enough; but if the

object be the general good, you have no choice but to trust its custody

to the general keeping. Let us suppose two men—since you happen to be a

man, and not a monikin—let us suppose two men perfectly equal in

morals, intelligence, public virtue and patriotism, one of whom shall

be rich and the other shall have nothing. A crisis arrives in the

affairs of their common country, and both are called upon to exercise

their franchise, on a question—as almost all great questions must—that

unavoidably will have some influence on property generally. Which would

give the most impartial vote—he who, of necessity, must be swayed by

his personal interest, or he who has no inducement of the sort to go

astray?”

“Certainly he who has nothing to influence him to go wrong. But the

question is not fairly put—”

“Your pardon, Sir John—it is put fairly as an abstract question, and

one that is to prove a principle. I am glad to hear you say that a man

would be apt to decide in this manner; for it shows his identity with a

monikin. We hold that all of us are apt to think most of ourselves on

such occasions.”

“My dear brigadier, do not mistake sophistry for reason. Surely, if

power belonged only to the poor—and the poor, or the comparatively

poor, always compose the mass—they would exercise it in a way to strip

the rich of their possessions.”

“We think not, in Leaplow. Cases might exist, in which such a state of

things would occur under a reaction; but reactions imply abuses, and

are not to be quoted to maintain a principle. He who was drunk

yesterday, may need an unnatural stimulus to-day; while he who is

uniformly temperate preserves his proper tone of body without recourse

to a remedy so dangerous. Such an experiment, under a strong

provocation, might possibly be made; but it could scarcely be made

twice among any people, and not even once among a people that submits

in season to a just division of its authority, since it is obviously

destructive of a leading principle of civilization. According to our

monikin histories, all the attacks upon property have been produced by

property’s grasping at more than fairly belongs to its immunities. If

you make political power a concomitant of property, both may go

together, certainly; but if kept separate, the danger to the latter

will never exceed the danger in which it is put daily by the arts of

the money-getters, who are, in truth, the greatest foes of property, as

it belongs to others.”

I remembered Sir Joseph Job, and could not but admit that the brigadier

had, at least, some truth on his side.

“But do you deny that the sentiment of property elevates the mind,

ennobles, and purifies?”

“Sir, I do not pretend to determine what may be the fact among men, but

we hold among monikins, that ‘the love of money is the root of all

evil.’”

“How, sir, do you account the education which is a consequence of

property as nothing?”

“If you mean, my dear Sir John, that which property is most apt to

teach, we hold it to be selfishness; but if you mean that he who has

money, as a rule, will also have in formation to guide him aright, I

must answer, that experience, which is worth a thousand theories, tells

us differently. We find that on questions which are purely between

those who have, and those who have not, the HAVES are commonly united,

and we think this would be the fact if they were as unschooled as

bears; but on all other questions, they certainly do great discredit to

education, unless you admit that there are in every case TWO rights;

for, with us, the most highly educated generally take the two extremes

of every argument. I state this to be the fact with monikins, you will

remember—doubtless, educated men agree much better.”

“But, my good brigadier, if your position about the greater

impartiality and independence of the elector who is not influenced by

his private interests be true, a country would do well to submit its

elections to a body of foreign umpires.”

“It would indeed, Sir John, if it were certain these foreign umpires

would not abuse the power to their own particular advantage, if they

could have the feelings and sentiments which ennoble and purify a

nation far more than money, and if it were possible they could

thoroughly understand the character, habits, wants, and resources of

another people. As things are, therefore, we believe it is wisest to

trust our own elections to ourselves—not to a portion of ourselves, but

to all of ourselves.”

“Immigrants included,” put in the captain.

“Why, we do carry the principle well out in the case of gentlemen like

yourselves,” returned the brigadier, politely, “but liberality is a

virtue. As a principle, Sir John, your idea of referring the choice of

our representatives to strangers has more merit than you probably

imagine, though, certainly, impracticable, for the reasons already

given. When we seek justice, we commonly look out for some impartial

judge. Such a judge is unattainable, however, in the matter of the

interests of a state, for the simple reason that power of this sort,

permanently wielded, would be perverted on a principle which, after a

most scrupulous analysis, we have been compelled to admit is

incorporated with the very monikin nature—viz., selfishness. I make no

manner of doubt that you men, however, are altogether superior to an

influence so unworthy?”

Here I could only borrow the use of the brigadier’s “Hum!”

“Having ascertained that it would not do to submit the control of our

affairs to utter strangers, or to those whose interests are not

identified with our own, we set about seeing what could be done with a

selection from among ourselves. Here we were again met by that same

obstinate principle of selfishness; and we were finally driven to take

shelter in the experiment of intrusting the interests of all to the

management of all.”

“And, sir, are these the opinions of Leaphigh?”

“Very far from it. The difference between Leaphigh and Leaplow is just

this: the Leaphighers, being an ancient people, with a thousand vested

interests, are induced, as time improves the mind, to seek reasons for

their facts; while we Leaplowers, being unshackled by any such

restraints, have been able to make an effort to form our facts on our

reasons.”

“Why do you, then, so much prize Leaphigh opinions on Leaplow facts?”

“Why does every little monikin believe his own father and mother to be

just the two wisest, best, most virtuous, and discreetest old monikins

in the whole world, until time, opportunity, and experience show him

his error?”

“Do you make no exceptions, then, in your franchise, but admit every

citizen who, as you say, has a nose, ears, bob, and wants, to the

exercise of the suffrage?”

“Perhaps we are less scrupulous on this head than we ought to be, since

we do not make ignorance and want of character bars to the privilege.

Qualifications beyond mere birth and existence may be useful, but they

are badly chosen when they are brought to the test of purely material

possessions. This practice has arisen in the world from the fact that

they who had property had power, and not because they ought to have

it.”

“My dear brigadier, this is flying in the face of all experience.”

“For the reason just given, and because all experience has hitherto

commenced at the wrong end. Society should be constructed as you erect

a house; not from the roof down, but from the foundation upwards.”

“Admitting, however, that your house has been badly constructed at

first, in repairing it, would you tear away the walls at random, at the

risk of bringing all down about your ears?”

“I would first see that sufficient props were reared, and then proceed

with vigor, though always with caution. Courage in such an experiment

is less to be dreaded than timidity. Half the evils of life, social,

personal and political, are as much the effects of moral cowardice as

of fraud.”

I then told the brigadier, that as his countrymen rejected the

inducements of property in the selection of the political base of their

social compact, I expected to find a capital substitute in virtue.

“I have always heard that virtue is the great essential of a free

people, and doubtless you Leaplowers are perfect models in this

important particular?”

The brigadier smiled before he answered me, first looking about to the

right and left, as if to regale himself with the odor of perfection.

“Many theories have been broached on these subjects,” he replied, “in

which there has been some confusion between cause and effect. Virtue is

no more a cause of freedom, except as it is connected with

intelligence, than vice is a cause of slavery. Both may be

consequences, but it is not easy to say how either is necessarily a

cause. There is a homely saying among us monikins, which is quite to

the point in this matter: ‘Set a rogue to catch a rogue.’ Now, the

essence of a free government is to be found in the responsibility of

its agents. He who governs without responsibility is a master, while he

who discharges the duties of a functionary under a practical

responsibility is a servant. This is the only true test of governments,

let them be mystified as they may in other respects. Responsibility to

the mass of the nation is the criterion of freedom. Now responsibility

is the SUBSTITUTE for virtue in a politician, as discipline is the

substitute for courage in a soldier. An army of brave monikins without

discipline, would be very apt to be worsted by an army of monikins of

less natural spirit, with discipline. So a corps of originally virtuous

politicians, without responsibility, would be very apt to do more

selfish, lawless, and profligate acts, than a corps of less virtue, who

were kept rigidly under the rod of responsibility. Unrestrained power

is a great corrupter of virtue, of itself; while the liabilities of a

restrained authority are very apt to keep it in check. At least, such

is the fact with us monikins—men very possibly get along better.”

“Let me tell you, Mr. Downright, you are now uttering opinions that are

diametrically opposed to those of the world, which considers virtue an

indispensable ingredient in a republic.”

“The world—meaning always the monikin world—knows very little about

real political liberty, except as a theory. We of Leaplow are, in

effect, the only people who have had much to do with it, and I am now

telling you what is the result of my own observation, in my own

country. If monikins were purely virtuous, there would be no necessity

for government at all; but, being what they are, we think it wisest to

set them to watch each other.”

“But yours is self-government, which implies self-restraint; and

self-restraint is but another word for virtue.”

“If the merit of our system depended on self-government, in your

signification, or on self-restraint, in any signification, it would not

be worth the trouble of this argument, Sir John Goldencalf. This is one

of those balmy fallacies with which ill-judging moralists endeavor to

stimulate monikins to good deeds. Our government is based on a directly

opposite principle; that of watching and restraining each other,

instead of trusting to our ability to restrain ourselves. It is the

want of responsibility, and not of constant and active presence, which

infers virtue and self-control. No one would willingly lay legal

restraints on himself in anything, while all are very happy to restrain

their neighbors. This refers to the positive and necessary rules of

intercourse, and the establishment of rights; as to mere morality, laws

do very little towards enforcing its ordinances. Morals usually come of

instruction; and when all have political power, instruction is a

security that all desire.”

“But when all vote, all may wish to abuse their trust to their own

especial advantage, and a political chaos will be the consequence.”

“Such a result is impossible, except as especial advantage is

identified with general advantage. A community can no more buy itself

in this manner, than a monikin can eat himself, let him be as ravenous

as he will. Admitting that all are rogues, necessity would compel a

compromise.”

“You make out a plausible theory, and I have little doubt that I shall

find you the wisest, the most logical, the discreetest, and the most

consistent community I have yet visited. But another word: how is it

that our friend the judge gave such equivocal instructions to his

charge; and why, in particular, did he lay so much stress on the

employment of means, which gave the lie flatly to all you have told

me?”

Brigadier Downright hereupon stroked his chin, and observed that he

thought there might possibly be a shift of wind; and he also wondered

(quite audibly), when we should make the land. I afterwards persuaded

him to allow that a monikin was but a monikin, after all, whether he

had the advantages of universal suffrage, or lived under a despot.

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