A MECCANIAN APOSTLE
It was a week or two after my visit to the Mechow Museum that I made
the acquaintance of one of the Foreign Observers who was staying at
the hotel. A day or two before, I had been sent for by the Hotel
Manager, and had been presented with a small certificate authorising
me to take my meals in the common dining-room, and to converse with
other foreigners whose names I was instructed to enter in my diary. I
had previously noticed a certain gentleman from Luniland whose face
seemed familiar to me. On this particular evening he came across to my
table and introduced himself as Mr. Johnson, a friend of Mr. Yorke, in
whose house I had stayed and where he had met me. We soon fell into
conversation, and when dinner was over we retired for a long chat to a
corner of the smoke-room. It appeared that he had been in Mecco over
a year, and had travelled also in various parts of the country. In
fact, this was his second visit, he said, his first having been made
a few years before. He was a man of about forty-five, tall and slim,
with a rather large bony nose and a grave but kindly expression. His
manner was quiet and dignified, and at first he spoke with a certain
obvious restraint; but afterwards he became more genial and was rather
humorous, after the manner of many of his countrymen.
"I should rather like to ask what you think of this country, but it
would hardly be fair, because the chances are that every word we say
here is overheard. I always suspect they have one of those beastly
contrivances fixed in the walls, to enable the manager or somebody
representing the Authorities to listen to everything that goes on. I
don't much mind if they turn me out of their precious country, but I
wouldn't like to get you into trouble. Anyhow, I believe if we were to
begin talking in my language, which I remember you speak very well, we
should presently have somebody round reminding us that it is against
the rules."
"Yet you have spent quite a long time in the country apparently," I
remarked. "I have really been wondering whether to stay here much
longer, and perhaps you could give me some tips if I decide to stay."
"Well," he replied, "it's just a matter of taste whether you like the
country. I shouldn't be able to stand it but for one thing."
"And what is that?" I asked.
"It enables me to thank God every hour that I am not a Meccanian."
"Yes," I said, "there's something in that. I myself object to some of
the inconveniences that these numerous regulations about everything
entail, but they are nothing, I suppose, compared with what it would
feel like if one expected to spend one's life here."
"It's just possible they really like it. But what sort of 'tips' were
you thinking of? Perhaps I know the ropes a little better than you, if
you have been here only a month or two."
"Well, there are two things I would like to know," I replied. "I am
rather tired of being 'conducted' about everywhere. That's the first.
And I want to get to know individual people as I did in Luniland. Here,
so far, I have met only officials, always on duty. It seems impossible
to get into contact with real live people. Until lately, as you know,
I was forbidden to talk to the people staying in the hotel; but now
that I have got over that difficulty, although, no doubt, I can pick up
a certain amount of information from my fellow Foreign Observers and
enjoy their conversation, I am no nearer getting to know the Meccanian
private citizens themselves."
"And do you particularly want to know them?" asked Mr. Johnson.
"One naturally wants to know what the people of any country are like,
and unless one has some fairly intimate intercourse of a social kind
with people of different ranks and types, one might almost as well
stay at home and read the matter up in books," I replied.
"I see. You are a genuine Foreign Observer. Well, to tell the truth,
so am I," he said more confidentially. "I am not here because I
like it. I detest the whole lot of them. I came here for the first
time five or six years ago. I had heard a lot about the country and
its wonderful organisation. Organisation! Blessed word! I had also
heard some rather tall stories, and thought the accounts had been
exaggerated. I came with an open mind. I rather prided myself on being
an impartial observer. I was prepared to allow a lot for the natural
differences of taste between one nation and another. At first I was
so keenly interested that I didn't mind the little restrictions, but
when the novelty had worn off, and I began to realise what it all
meant, I determined to make a more thorough study of the country than
I had at first thought would be worth while. So I am here now studying
Meccanian education. Now the only way, so far as I know, of getting rid
of your everlasting 'conductors' is to get permission to study some
special subject. I went through just the same experience. I was what
they call merely a 'general' observer. The Authorities don't exactly
like the 'general' observer. They can't find it in their hearts to
let him alone. As they regulate their own people they must keep as
close a watch on the foreigner. As he doesn't fit into their system,
they have to invent a system for him. It is troublesome to them, and
not very pleasant for the foreigner; but Meccanian principles make it
necessary. However, if you can satisfy them that you are a _bona fide_
student of some special subject--it doesn't matter what it is, you may
choose anything from the parasites in the intestines of a beetle to
the philosophy of the Absolute--they will treat you quite decently,
according to their lights."
"How do you account for this difference?" I asked.
"They are immensely flattered by the notion that if you come here to
study anything, it must be because their knowledge is so superior to
what can be found elsewhere. However, if you want to get rid of the
daily worry of a 'conductor,' that is what you must do. But you must be
a specialist of some sort, or they won't admit you to the privilege."
"But there is no special subject I want to study," I said. "I am just
a 'general' observer, and if I undertake to study a special subject I
shall miss seeing what I most want to see."
"That is a difficulty. Perhaps you had better go on as you have been
doing, and when you have had enough of that, go in for some political
institutions; they have got you registered as a National Councillor, so
you can pretend to study the working of the Constitution or some such
thing."
"That's rather a good idea," I said; "but, judging from what I have
seen, I should doubt whether they will let me see what I want to see."
"Why, what do you want to see?"
"Just what I cannot get from an inspection of the machinery of the
State--the effect of the laws and customs on the actual life of the
people."
"Ah, that you will have to get by the aid of your imagination."
"But," I suggested, "is it not possible to get permission to live in
some family, or with several different families in different classes in
succession?"
"Oh yes," replied Johnson, "quite possible, if you are prepared to go
through all the necessary formalities; but I doubt whether you will get
much by it. You see, each family is a sort of replica, in miniature,
of the State. They will have to report to the Police once a week upon
all your doings. Every word you say will be listened to. They will be
studying you, just as you will be studying them. I have tried it. There
_is_ no natural intercourse in this country. Try it if you like, but I
am sure you will come to my opinion in the end.
"Don't forget to enter the time of this conversation in your diary,"
Mr. Johnson said as we parted. "If you make a mistake, or if I make a
mistake, we shall have an interview with an inspector from the Time
Department, and the hotel manager will worry us to death about it."
The next day I resumed my tour of observation with a new 'conductor'
whose name was Lickrod. He was almost affectionate in his greeting when
we met at the Police Office, and we had not been long together before
I recognised that he was a different type from Prigge, or Sheep, or
any of the others I had met. He was to take me to see the Industrial
town, and he was full of enthusiasm for everything we were to see. As
we went along in the tram he explained rather effusively that it was
a great pleasure to him to meet foreigners. He had a mission in life,
just as Meccania had a mission among all the nations. He was a loyal
Meccanian--in fact, he yielded to no man in his loyalty to the State;
but for that very reason he ventured to criticise one defect in the
policy of the Government. I began to wonder what that could be.
"I have travelled abroad," he said, "and I have seen with my own eyes
the benighted condition of so many millions of my fellow-creatures. I
come home, and I see everywhere around me order, knowledge, prosperity,
cleanliness--no dirt, no poverty, no disorder, no strikes, no
disturbance, no ignorance, no disease that can be prevented--Culture
everywhere. It makes me almost weep to think of the state of the
world outside. We have not done all that we might have done to carry
our Culture abroad. We have kept it too much to ourselves. In my
humble way, as a Conductor of Foreigners, I take every opportunity I
can of spreading a knowledge of our Culture. But instead of a few
score, or at most a few hundred, foreigners every year, we ought to
have thousands here. Then they would become missionaries in their
own countries. I always impress upon them that they must begin with
the reform of education in their countries; and I would advise you,
before you return, to make a thorough study of our system of education.
Without that you cannot hope to succeed."
"But," I suggested, "if other countries followed your example would
they not become as strong as you? Perhaps your Government looks at it
from that point of view."
"There are, on this question," he observed sagely, "two opposite
opinions. One is that it is better to keep our Culture to ourselves;
the other is that we ought to teach other nations, so that ultimately
all the earth can become one great and glorious Meccania."
By this time we had arrived at the entrance to the Industrial town.
Conductor Lickrod broke off to note the time of our arrival, and to
lead me into the office of the Governor or Controller of what, for
convenience, I may call Worktown. Indeed the Industrial quarter is
known by a similar term in Mecco. This Controller is responsible
for the preservation of order; but as there is no difficulty about
discipline in the ordinary sense of the word, his functions are rather
to promote a high standard of Meccanian conduct among the workers
of all ages and grades. In this work he is assisted by scores of
Sub-Controllers of Industrial Training, as they are called.
The organisation of the Controller's Department was explained before
we proceeded to any of the works. There was a large room filled with
thousands of little dossiers in shelves, and card-index cases to
correspond. The particulars of the character and career of every worker
in the town could be ascertained at a moment's notice. All the workers
were either in the Fifth or Sixth Class, but they were divided into
more than a dozen subgrades, and the card-index showed by the colour
which of the many grades any particular person had attained.
I asked how the workmen were engaged.
"The industrial career of a workman," said Lickrod enthusiastically,
"begins, if I may so express myself, with the dawn of his industrial
intelligence. In our schools--and here you perceive one of the
perfections of our educational system--our teachers are trained to
detect the signs of the innate capacity of each child, and to classify
it appropriately. In 79½ per cent of cases, as you will see from the
last report of the Industrial Training Section of the Department of
Industry and Commerce, the careers of boys are determined before the
age of thirteen. The rest is merely a question of training. By a proper
classification we are able to adjust the supply of each different kind
of capacity to the requirements of our industry. We avoid all the
waste and uncertainty which one sees in countries where even the least
competent workmen are allowed to choose their employment. We guarantee
employment to everybody, and on the other hand we preserve the right to
say what the employment shall be."
"Does that mean," I asked, "that a workman can never change his
employment?"
"In some of the more backward parts of the country it is sometimes
necessary for workmen to change their employment; but here, in Mecco,
we should think we had managed our business very badly if that were
necessary."
"But without its being necessary, a man might wish to change. I have
heard of many cases, in Luniland and Transatlantica, of a clever and
enterprising man having risen to eminence, after an experience in half
a dozen different occupations. Here, I understand, that is impossible."
"Ah," replied Lickrod, "I see you have not grasped the scientific basis
of our system. You say such and such a person rose to eminence, shall
we say as a lawyer, after having been, let us say, a printer or even a
house-painter. If there had been a sufficient supply of good lawyers
it is probable that he would not have succeeded in becoming an eminent
lawyer. Now, _we_ know our requirements as regards lawyers, just as
we know our requirements as to engineers. We have also the means of
judging the capacity of our young people, and we place them in the
sphere in which they can be of most service."
I thought I could see holes in this theory, but all I said was, "So you
think of the problem from the point of view of the good of the State,
regardless of the wishes of the individual."
"Certainly of the good of the State; but you mistake the true meaning
of the wishes of the individual. The apparent wish of the individual
may be to follow some other course than that which the State, with its
fuller knowledge and deeper wisdom, directs; but the real inward wish
of all Meccanians is to serve the interests of Meccania. That is the
outcome of our system of education. We must talk about that some other
time, but just now I want you to see that our system produces such
wonderful fruits that it never enters the head of any Meccanian workman
to question its wisdom."
We entered a gigantic engineering works, full of thousands of machine
tools. Everything appeared as clean and orderly as in the experimental
room of an engineering college. Some of the workmen wore grey-coloured
overalls, showing that they belonged to the Sixth Class, but most of
them wore the chocolate uniform of the men of the Fifth Class. These
were evidently performing highly skilled work. Even the moulding shops
were clean and tidy, and the employment of machinery for doing work
that elsewhere I had been accustomed to see done by hand astonished
me. The workmen looked like soldiers and behaved like automatons.
Conversation went on, but I was informed by Lickrod, again in a tone
of pride, that only conversation relative to the work in hand was
permitted. Here and there I saw a man in a green uniform, applying some
mysterious instrument to one of the workmen. I asked Lickrod what this
meant.
"That is one of our industrial psychologists, testing the
psycho-physiological effects of certain operations. By this means we
can tell not only when a workman is over-fatigued, but also if he is
under-fatigued. It is all part of our science of production."
"What happens if a man is under-fatigued persistently?" I asked.
"He will have to perform fatigue duty after the usual hours, just as he
would in the army," he answered.
"And do they not object to this?"
"Who?"
"The workmen."
"Why should they? The man who is guilty of under-fatigue knows that
he is justly punished. The others regard the offence as one against
themselves. It is part of our industrial training. But we have indeed
very few cases of under-fatigue in Mecco. You know, perhaps, that all
our citizens are, so to speak, selected. Anyone who does not appreciate
his privileges can be removed to other cities or towns, and there are
thousands of loyal Meccanians only too eager to come to live in Mecco."
One of the most remarkable industries I saw carried on was the
House-building Industry. The plans for houses of every kind, except
those for the Third and higher classes, are stereotyped. That is to
say, there are some forty or fifty different plans, all worked out to
the minutest detail. Suppose ten houses are wanted in any particular
quarter, the Building Department decides the type of house, the order
is given for ten houses, Type No. 27 let us say. This goes to the firm
which specialises in Type No. 27. There are no architect's fees, and
the expenses of superintending the work are almost _nil_.
I asked Conductor Lickrod why it was that, when the whole industry of
house-building had been reduced to a matter of routine, the State did
not itself carry on the work, but employed private firms.
"That question," he said, "touches one of the fundamental principles of
our Meccanian policy. If you study our National Economy you will learn
all you require about it, but for the moment I may say that the control
of the State over Industry is complete, yet we have not extinguished
the capitalist. We do not desire to do so, for many reasons. The Third
Class, which includes all the large capitalists, and the Fourth Class,
which includes the smaller capitalists, furnish a most important
element in the National Economy. Their enterprise in business and
manufacture is truly astonishing."
"But what motive have they for displaying enterprise?" I asked.
"What motive? Why, every motive. Their livelihood depends upon the
profits made; their promotion to a higher grade in their own class,
and in the case of those in the Fourth Class their promotion to the
ranks of the Third Class, also depends upon their skill and enterprise.
But most of all, the Meccanian spirit, which has been inculcated by
our system of education, inspires them with the desire to excel the
business men of all other nations for the sake of Meccanian Culture."
Certainly the organisation of industry was marvellous, and the
production of everything must be enormous. We spent three days going
through factory after factory. There was the same marvellous order and
cleanliness and perfect discipline, wherever one turned. On leaving
the works the men all marched in step, as if on parade. Inside, they
saluted their 'officers,' but the salute was of a special kind--the
hand was raised to the shoulder only, so as to avoid a sweeping motion
which might have brought it in contact with some object. One of the
triumphs of organisation, to which Lickrod called my attention, was the
arrangement whereby the workmen reached their work at the proper time,
got their midday meal, and reached home in the evening without any
congestion. Each separate workshop had its appointed time for beginning
work; some began as early as 6, others at 6.15, the last to begin were
a few that had a comparatively short day, starting at 7.30. The midday
meal began at 11.30, and was taken by relays until about 1.30. All the
women employed in the canteens were the wives and daughters of workmen,
who spent the rest of their time in household work at home.
At the end of the third day, as I was taking coffee with Conductor
Lickrod, I took advantage of his communicativeness, which was rather
a contrast to the brusqueness of Prigge, to get some light on several
matters that had so far puzzled me.
"Your industrial system," I remarked, "as a productive machine, appears
to me to be quite marvellous."
Lickrod beamed. "I knew you would think so," he said. "We have a word
in our language which, so far as I am aware, has no exact equivalent
in other languages, because their culture does not include the thing.
It means 'the adaptation of the means to the end.' Our industrial
system exemplifies the virtue connoted by that expression; but our
whole industrial system itself is only a means perfectly adapted to its
end. We have no 'Industrial Problem' in the old sense of that word. Of
course we are always effecting improvements in detail."
"But I have been wondering how it is," I said, "that with all this
marvellous efficiency in production, your workmen in the Fifth and
Sixth, and I suppose in the Seventh Class also, appear to work as long
as those in other countries; they do not appear to be richer and they
seem to have fewer opportunities of rising in the social scale."
"I have heard the same question put by other Foreign Observers,"
replied Lickrod, "and I am glad you have come to me for information
on the subject. A complete answer involves a correct understanding
of our whole Culture. To begin with, the supreme good of the State
can only be determined by the State itself. The wishes or opinions of
the private individual are of no account. Now, the State knows what
its requirements are, and determines the amounts and kinds of work
necessary to meet these requirements. By means of our Sociological
Department, our Industrial Department, our Time Department, and the
various sections of our Department of Culture, we know perfectly how to
adjust our industries to the end determined by the State. Every class
and grade therefore is required to contribute towards the supreme good
of the State according to its ability."
"I quite understand," I interrupted, "the point of view you are
expounding; but what I am wondering is why, with all this efficient
machinery of production, everybody in the country is not in the
enjoyment either of wealth or of leisure."
"I am afraid it is not easy for a foreigner, without longer experience,
to appreciate the different value we attach to things such as wealth
and leisure, and other things too. Suppose, purely for the sake of
argument, that our working class worked only five hours a day instead
of nine or ten: what would they do with their leisure?"
"I suppose they would enjoy themselves," I replied; "and seeing that
they have had the benefit of a good education, I take it that they
would know how to enjoy themselves in a decent manner. Besides, your
regulations would be able to prevent any excesses or disorders."
"And you think they would be better employed in enjoying themselves
than in serving the State as they do now?" asked Lickrod.
"Who is to judge whether they would be better employed?" I answered.
"That is just the question," said Lickrod, "and it is there that our
Culture is so much in advance of other nations. Private enjoyment is
not the supreme end of the State."
"But surely," I said, "you do not go on producing wealth simply for
the sake of keeping your working classes employed ten hours instead of
five? What becomes of the wealth?"
"As I said before, we produce just the wealth we require."
"Then I confess I am baffled," I said. "Possibly a great deal is
required for your army and navy and other public services. You have,
you must acknowledge, a very large number of people employed as
officials of all kinds. As these are not producing material goods,
perhaps the surplus wealth is drained away into these channels?"
"All that is included in my statement, that we produce what we
require," answered Lickrod.
"Can you give me any idea," I asked, with some hesitation, fearing I
was getting on delicate ground, "how much of the industrial product
is required for military and naval purposes? I don't suppose you can,
because I am aware that your Government does not publish its military
estimates; and even if it did, it would not be possible to tell how
much of the labour of the working classes is absorbed in that way. But
whilst I do not ask for any information that it is not usual to give, I
suggest to you that when I see the extraordinary productivity of your
economic machine, coupled with the comparative simplicity of the mode
of life pursued by the bulk of your population, I am bound to infer
one of two things: either a vast amount must be absorbed by some rich
class, or it must be in some way absorbed by the State itself."
"I think your reasoning is perfectly sound," replied Lickrod. "I could
not tell you what proportion of the wealth product is absorbed by the
army if I wished; for I do not know, and nobody in Meccania knows,
except the Supreme Authority. The Finance Department knows only in
terms of money what is spent upon the various services. But without
knowing either exact amounts or proportions, I have no hesitation in
saying that a very great deal of the wealth product does go in these
directions. But that is part of our Meccanian ideal. The army is the
nation, is it not? Every workman you have seen is a soldier; and he is
a soldier just as much when he is in the factory as when he is in the
camp or the barracks. He spends five years of his life between twenty
and thirty in the camp, and he spends from one to two months of every
year afterwards in keeping up his training. Then of course there is the
equipment of both army and navy, which of course is always developing.
Your idea is, I suppose, that if we devoted less to such objects as
these, the people of the working classes, or even the whole body of
people, would have more to spend upon pleasure, or could enjoy more
leisure."
"Yes," I said, "in most other countries every penny spent upon either
military purposes or upon State officials, beyond what is strictly
necessary, is grudged. The people scrutinise very keenly all public
expenditure. They prefer to spend what they regard as their own money
in their own way. It seems to me therefore, that either your people do
not look at the matter in the same way, or if they do, that the State
has discovered a very effective way of overcoming their objections."
"What you say," replied Lickrod, "only brings out more and more
the difference between our Culture and that of other nations. This
sense of antagonism between the interests of the individual and the
interests of the State, which has hindered and apparently still hinders
the development of other countries, has been almost entirely eradicated
among the Meccanians."
"What!" I said, "do you mean that a Meccanian pays his taxes
cheerfully?"
"What taxes?" asked Lickrod blandly.
"I do not know in what form your taxes are paid," I said, "but they
must be paid in some way, and I suspect that even in Meccania, if they
were left to voluntary subscription, the Exchequer would not be quite
so full."
"Now that is a very curious instance of what I am tempted to call
the political stupidity of other nations. Instead of removing all
circumstances that provoke a consciousness of difference between the
individual and the State, they seem to call the attention of the
private citizen, as they call him, to these differences. They first
allow a man to regard property as entirely his own, and then discuss
with him how much he shall contribute, and finally make him pay in hard
cash."
"And how do you manage to get over the difficulty?" I said.
"All Meccanians are taught from their youth--even from early
childhood--that all they have they owe to the beneficent protection
of the State. The State is their Father and their Mother. No one
questions its benevolence or its wisdom or its power. Consequently all
this haggling about how much shall be paid this year or that year is
avoided. The State is the direct paymaster of nearly half the nation.
Hence it can deduct what is due without any sense of loss. Through our
Banking system the collection of the rest is quite easy. The private
employers deduct from the wages of their employees, and are charged the
exact amount through the Banks. No one feels it."
"But does your Parliament exercise no control over taxation?" I asked
in some surprise.
"Our Parliament is in such complete accord with the Government that it
would not dream of disturbing the system of taxation, which has worked
so well for over thirty years," replied Lickrod.
"Have they the power to do so?" I asked.
"They have the power to ask questions, certainly," he replied; "but the
taxes are fixed for periods of seven years. That is to say, the direct
taxes falling upon each separate class are fixed every seven years in
each case; so that the taxes for the First Class come up for revision
one year, those for the Second Class the next year, and so on. The
Constitution does not allow Parliament to increase the amount asked for
by the Government, and as the vote is taken not individually but by
classes, it is hardly to the interest of any of the classes to try to
reduce the amount assessed upon any one class. Besides, the Government
derives a considerable proportion of its income from its own property
in the shape of mines, railways, forests, farms, and so forth. When we
hear foreigners speak of Parliamentary Opposition we hardly know what
the term means. It is entirely foreign to the Meccanian spirit."
"You speak of the Government," I remarked, "but I have not yet
discovered what the Government is."
"I am afraid I must refer you to our manuals of Constitutional Law,"
replied Lickrod.
"Oh, I know in a general way the outline of your Constitution," I said,
"but in every country there is a real working Constitution, which
differs from the formal Constitution. For instance, Constitutions
usually contain nothing about political parties, yet the policy and
traditions of these parties are the most important factors. The merely
legal powers of a monarch, for instance, may in practice lapse, or may
be so rarely exercised as not to matter. Now in Meccania one sees a
powerful Government at work everywhere--that is, one sees the machinery
of Government, but the driving force and the controlling force seem
hidden."
"You may find the answer to your question if you make a study of our
political institutions. At present I am afraid your curiosity seems
directed towards matters that to us have only a sort of historical
interest. It would never occur to any Meccanian to ask who controls the
Government. His conception of the State is so entirely different that
the question seems almost unmeaning."
"I have recently spent a long time in Luniland," I remarked at this
point, "and I am afraid a Lunilander would say that if such a question
has become unmeaning to a Meccanian, the Meccanians must have lost the
political sense."
"And we should say that we have solved the problem of politics. We
should say," he went on, "that the Lunilanders have no Government. A
Government that can be changed every few years, a Government that has
to ask the consent of what they call the taxpayers for every penny
it is to spend, a Government that must expose all its business to
an ignorant mob, a Government that must pass and carry out any law
demanded by a mere majority--we do not call that a Government."
"They regard liberty as more important than Government," I replied,
with a smile.
"They are still enslaved by the superstitions of the eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries," he replied solemnly. "No nation will make real
progress until it learns how to embody its physical, intellectual
and spiritual forces in an all-embracing State. Our State may be
imperfect--I know it is--but we are in the right way; and developed
as it may be in another century it will completely answer all human
requirements."
"Developed?" I said, almost betraying my amusement, for I wondered
what further developments the Super-State was capable of. "In what
directions do you anticipate development?"
"There is still an immense fund of religious sentiment that is
squandered upon unworthy objects: this may be--I feel sure it will
be--directed into a nobler channel. Our ritual, too, in no way
corresponds to the sublimity of the Idea of the Super-State. The ritual
of the Catholic Church--which is after all but a section of the whole
State--is still superior, from the sensuous and the artistic point of
view, to our State ritual. Our reverence for the State is too cold, too
inarticulate. I have sometimes thought that the Emperor might found an
order of priests or monks who would cultivate an inward devotion that
would inevitably give birth to a real religion of the State."
"You are a true missionary," I said; "in fact, I think you are entitled
to be considered a Meccanian Apostle. I have learnt a great deal from
our intercourse, and just as you have suggested that the Government
might bring more foreigners to see the wonders of your Meccanian
Culture, I would suggest that they should send you and others like
yourself into other countries to enlighten them as to the real mission
of Meccania."
He was pleased to accept this testimony from an innocent and
well-disposed Foreign Observer, and said that I could best show my
appreciation by inducing more of my fellow-countrymen to come and study
the wonders of Meccanian Culture.