 | CHAPTER XI. The monikins |  |
11. CHAPTER XI.
How to enact laws—Oratory, logic and eloquence, all considered
in their every-day aspects.
Political oaths are very much the same sort
of thing everywhere, and I shall say no more about
our inauguration than simply to state it took place
as usual. The two houses were duly organized,
and we proceeded, without delay, to the transaction
of business. I will here state that I was much
rejoiced to find Brigadier Downright among the
Bobees, the Captain whispering that most probably
he had been mistaken for an “immigrunt,” and
chosen accordingly.
It was not a great while before the Great Sachem
sent us a communication, which contained a compte
rendu of the state of the nation. Like most accounts
it is my good fortune to receive, I thought it particularly
long. Agreeably to the opinions of this
document, the people of Leaplow were, by a good
deal, the happiest people in the world; they were
also considerably more respected, esteemed, beloved,
honored, and properly appreciated, than any
other monikin community; and, in short, they were
the admiration and glory of the universe. I was
exceedingly glad to hear this, for some of the facts
one can never get correct notions of a nation except
from itself.
These important facts properly digested, we all
of us set about our several duties with a zeal that
spoke fairly for our industry and integrity. Things
commenced swimmingly; and it was not long before
the Riddles sent us a resolution for concurrence,
by way of opening the ball. It was conceived in
the following terms:—“Resolved, that the color
which has hiterto been deemed to be black, is
really white.”
As this was the first resolution that involved a
principle on which we had been required to vote, I
suggested to Noah the propriety of our going
round to the Brigadier, and inquiring what might
be the drift of so singular a proposition. Our colleague
answered the question with great good nature,
giving us to understand that the Perpendiculars
and the Horizontals had long been at variance on
the mere coloring property of various important
questions, and the real matter involved in the resolution
was not visible. The former had always
maintained, (by always, he meant ever since the
time they maintained the contrary,) the doctrine
of the resolution, and the latter its converse. A
majority of the Riddles, just at this moment, are
Perpendiculars; and, as it was now seen, they had
succeeded in getting a vote on their favorite principle.
“According to this account of the matter, Sir
John,” observed the Captain, “I shall be compelled
to maintain that black is white, seeing that I am
in on the Parpendic'lar interest?”
I thought with the Captain, and was pleased
that my own legislative debût was not to be characterized
by the promulgation of any doctrine so
much at variance with my preconceived ways of
I asked the Brigadier in what light he felt disposed
to view the matter himself.
“I am elected by the Tangents,” he said; “and,
by what I can learn, it is the intention of our friends
to steer a middle course; and one of our leaders is
already selected, who, at a proper stage of the
affair, is to move an amendment.”
“Can you refer me, my dear friend, to anything
connected with the Great National Allegory, that
bears on this point?”
“Why, there is a clause among the fundamental
and immutable laws, which it is thought was intended
to meet this very case; but, unhappily, the sages
by whom our Allegory was drawn up, have not
paid quite as much attention to the phraseology as
the importance of the subject demanded.”
Here the Brigadier laid his finger on the clause
in question, and I returned to a seat to study its
meaning. It was conceived as follows:—Art. IV.
Clause 6: “The Great National Council shall, in
no case whatever, pass any law, or resolution, declaring
white to be black.”
After studying this fundamental enactment to the
bottom, turning it on every side, and finally considering
it upside-down, I came to the conclusion that
its tenor was, on the whole, rather more favorable
than unfavorable to the horizontal doctrine. It
struck me, a very good argument was to be made
out of the constitutional question, and that it presented
a very fair occasion for a new member to
venture on a maiden speech. Having so settled the
matter, entirely to my own satisfaction, I held myself
in reserve, waiting for the proper moment to
produce an effect.
It was not long before the Chairman of the Committee
on the Judiciary (one of the effects of the
resolution was entirely to change the coloring of
made his report on the subject-matter of the
resolution. This person was a Tangent, who had
a besetting wish to become a Riddle, although the
leaning of our house was decidedly horizontal;
and, as a matter of course, he took the Riddle side
of this question. The report, itself, required seven
hours in the reading, commencing with the subject
at the epocha of the celebrated caucus that was
adjourned sine die, by the disruption of the earth's
crust, and previously to the distribution of the great
monikin family into separate communities, and ending
with the subject of the resolution in his hand.
The reporter had set his political palette with the
utmost care, having completely covered the subject
with neutral tints, before he got through with it;
and glazing the whole down with ultramarine, in
such a way as to cause the eye to regard the matter
through a fictitious atmosphere. Finally, he
repeated the resolution, verbatim, and as it came
from the other house.
Mr. Speaker now called upon gentlemen to deliver
their sentiments. To my utter amazement,
Captain Poke arose, put his tobacco back into its
box, and opened the debate, without apology.
The Honorable Captain said he understood this
question to be one implicating the liberties of everybody.
He understood the matter literally, as it was
propounded in the Allegory, and set forth in the
resolution; and, as such, he intended to look at it
with unprejudyced eyes. “The natur' of this proposal
lay altogether in color. What is color, after
all? Make the most of it, and in the most favorable
position, which, perhaps, is the cheek of a comely
young woman, and it is but skin-deep. He remembered
the time when a certain female in another
part of the univarse, who is commonly called
Miss Poke, might have out-rosed the best rose in a
to? He shouldn't ask Miss Poke herself, for obvious
reasons—but he would ask any of the neighbors
how she looked now? Quitting female natur',
he would come to human natur' generally. He had
often remarked that sea-water was blue, and he had
frequently caused pails to be lowered, and the water
brought on deck, to see if he could come at any of
this blueing matter—for indigo was both scarce
and dear in his part of the world, but he never
could make out anything by the experiment; from
which he concluded that, on the whull, there was
pretty much no such thing as color, at all.
“As for the resolution before the house, it depended
entirely on the meaning of words. Now, after
all, what is a word? Why, some people's words
are good, and other people's words are good for
nothing. For his part, he liked sealed instruments
—which might be because he was a sealer—but as
for mere words, he set but little store by them. He
once tuck a man's word for his wages; and the
long and short of it was, that he lost his money.
He had known a thousand instances in which words
had proved to be of no value, and he did not see
why some gentlemen wished to make them of so
much importance here. For his part, he was for
puffing up nothing, no, not even a word or a color,
above its desarts. The people seemed to call for a
change in the color of things, and he called upon
gentlemen to remember that this was a free country,
and one in which the laws ruled; and therefore
he trusted they would be disposed to adapt the laws
to the wants of the people. What had the people
asked of the house in this matter? So far as his
knowledge went, they had really asked nothing in
words, but he understood there was great discontent
on the subject of the old colors; and he construed
for words in general. He was a Parpendic'lar, and
he should always maintain parpendic'lar sentiments.
Gentlemen might not agree with him, but, for one,
he was not disposed to jipordyze the liberties of his
constituents, and therefore he gave the rizolution
just as it came from the Riddles, without altering
a letter—although he did think there was one word
misspelt—he meant `really,' which he had been
taught to spell `ra'ally'—but he was ready to
sacrifice even his opinions on this point to the good
of the country; and therefore he went with the Riddles,
even to their misprints. He hoped the rizolution
would pass, with the entire unanimity so
important a subject demanded.”
This speech produced a very strong sensation.
Up to this time, the principal orators of the house
had been much in the practice of splitting hairs
about some nice technicality in the Great Allegory;
but Noah, with the simplicity of a truly great mind,
had made a home-thrust at the root of the whole
matter; laying about him with the single-heartedness
of the illustrious Manchechan, when he couched
his lance against the wind-mills. The points admitted,
that there were no such things as colors,
and that words were of no moment, this, or indeed
any other resolution, might be passed with impunity.
The Perpendiculars in the house were singularly
satisfied, for, to say the truth, their arguments
hitherto had been rather flimsy. Out of doors, the
effect was greater still; for it wrought a complete
change in the whole tenor of the Perpendicular
argument. Monikins who the day before had
strenuously affirmed that their strength lay in the
phraseology of the Great Allegory, now suddenly
had their eyes opened, clearly perceiving that words
had no just value. The argument had certainly
undergone some modifications; but, luckily, the
this apparent anomaly; explaining, however, that
it was quite common in Leaplow, more especially
in all matters affecting politics; though he felt persuaded
men must be more consistent.
No great time is required to put a well-organized
political corps to the right-about, when proper
attention has been paid to the preparatory drills.
Although several of the best speakers among the
Perpendiculars had appeared in their places, with
ample notes, and otherwise in readiness to show
that the phraseology of the resolution was altogether
in favor of their views of the question, every
monikin of them promptly rejected his previous
argument, for the simple and more conclusive views
of Captain Poke. On the other hand, the Horizontals
were so completely taken by surprise, that not
an orator among them all had a word to say for
himself. So far from replying, they actually permitted
one of their antagonists to rise and to follow
up the blow of the Captain; a pretty certain sign
that they were bothered.
The new speaker was a very prominent leader
of the Perpendiculars. He was one of those politicians
who are only the more dexterous from having
been of all sides, knowing by experience the
weak and the strong points of each, and being familiar
with every subdivision of political sentiment
that had ever existed in the country. This ingenious
orator took up the subject with spirit, treating it
throughout on the principle of the honorable member
who had last spoken. According to his views
of the question, the gist of a resolution, or a law,
was to be found in things and not in words. Words
were so many false lights to mislead, and—he need
not tell this house a fact that was familiar to all
who heard him—words would be, and were, daily
moulded to suit the convenience of all sorts of persons.
lavish of words, for the time might come when the
garrulous and voluble would have cause to repent of
having used them. He asked the house if the thing
proposed were necessary—did the public interests
require it—was the public mind prepared for it; if so,
he begged gentlemen to do their duties to themselves,
their characters, their consciences, their religion,
their property, and, lastly, their constituents.
This orator had endeavored to destroy words by
words, and I thought the house regarded his effort
rather favorably. I now determined to make a
rally in favor of the fundamental law, which evidently
had as yet been but little regarded in the
discussion. I caught the Speaker's eye, accordingly,
and was on my feet in a moment.
I commenced by paying elaborate compliments
to the talents and motives of those who had preceded
me, and made some proper allusions to the
known intelligence, patriotism, virtue, and legal
attainments of the house. All this was so well received,
that taking courage, I determined to come
down upon my adversaries, at once, with the text
of the written law. Prefacing the blow with an
eulogium on the admirable nature of those institutions
which were universally admitted to be the
wonder of the world, and which were commonly
pronounced to be the second perfection of monikin
reason, those of Leaphigh being invariably deemed
the first, I made a few apposite remarks on the
necessity of respecting the vital ordinances of the
body politic, and asked the attention of my hearers
while I read to them a particular clause, which
it had struck me had some allusion to the very
point now in consideration. Having thus cleared
the way, I had not the folly to defeat the objects
of so much preparation, by an indiscreet
precipitancy. So far from it, previously to reading
the attention of every member present was attracted
more forcibly by the dignity, deliberation, and gravity
of my manner, than by the substance of what
had yet been said. In the midst of this deep silence
and expectation I read aloud, in a voice that reached
every cranny of the hall—
“The Great Council shall, in no case whatever,
pass any law, or resolution, declaring white to be
black.”
If I had been calm in the presentation of this authority,
I was equally self-possessed in waiting for
its effect. Looking about me, I saw surprise, perplexity,
doubt, wonder and uncertainty, in every
countenance, if I did not find conviction. One fact
embarrassed even me. Our friends the Horizontals
were evidently quite as much as fault as our opponents
the Perpendiculars, instead of being, as I had
good reason to hope, in an ecstasy of pleasure on
hearing their cause sustained by an authority so
weighty.
“Will the honorable member have the goodness to
explain from what author he has quoted?” one of the
leading Perpendiculars at length ventured to inquire.
“The language you have just heard, Mr. Speaker,”
I resumed, believing that now was the favorable
instant to follow up the matter, “is language
that must find an echo in every heart—it is language
that can never be used in vain in this venerable
hall, language that carries with it conviction
and command”—I observed that the members were
now fairly gaping at each other with wonder—
“Sir, I am asked to name the author from whom I
have quoted these sententious and explicit words—
Sir, what you have just heard is to be found in the
Article IV. Clause 6, of the Great National Allegory—”
“Order—Order—Order!” shouted a hundred
raven throats.
I stood aghast, even more amazed than the house
itself had been only the instant before.
“Order—Order—Order—Order—Order!” continued
to be yelled, as if a million of demons were
screeching in the hall.
“The honorable member will please to recollect,”
said the bland, and ex-officio impartial Speaker,
who, by the way, was a Perpendicular, elected by
fraud, “that it is out of order to use personalities.”
“Personalities! I do not understand, sir—”
“The instrument to which the honorable member
has alluded, his own good sense will tell him, was
never written by itself—so far from this, the very
members of the convention by which it was drawn
up, are at this instant members of this house, and
most of them supporters of the resolution now before
the house; and it will be deemed personal to
throw into their faces former official acts, in this
unheard-of manner. I am sorry it is my duty to
say, that the honorable member is entirely out of
order.”
“But, sir, the Sacred National—”
“Sacred, sir, beyond a doubt—but in a sense
different from what you imagine—much too sacred,
sir, ever to be alluded to here. There are the works
of the commentators, the books of constructions,
and especially the writings of various foreign and
perfectly disinterested statesmen,—need I name
Ekrub in particular!—that are at the command of
members; but so long as I am honored with a seat
in this chair, I shall peremptorily decide against all
personalities.”
I was dumb-founded. The idea that the authority
itself would be refused never crossed my mind,
though I had anticipated a sharp struggle on its
construction. The constitution only required that
white, whereas the resolution merely ordered that
henceforth white should be black. Here was matter
for discussion, nor was I at all sanguine as to
the result; but to be thus knocked on the head by a
club, in the outset, was too much for the modesty
of a maiden speech. I took my seat in confusion;
and I plainly saw that the Perpendiculars, by their
sneers, now expected to carry everything triumphantly
their own way. This, most probably, would
have been the case, had not one of the Tangents
immediately got the floor, to move the amendment.
To the vast indignation of Captain Poke, and, in
some degree, to my own mortification, this duty
was intrusted to the Hon. Robert Smut. Mr. Smut
commenced with entreating members not to be led
away by the sophistry of the first speaker. That
honorable member, no doubt, felt himself called
upon to defend the position taken by his friends;
but those that knew him well, as it had been his
fate to know him, must be persuaded that his sentiments
had, at least, undergone a sudden and miraculous
change. That honorable member denied
the existence of color, at all! He would ask that
honorable member if he had never been instrumental
himself in producing what is generally called
“black and blue color?” he should like to know
if that honorable member placed as little value,
at present, on blows as he now seemed to set on
words—he begged pardon of the house, but this
was a matter of great interest to himself—he knew
that there never had been a greater manufacturer
of “black and blue color” than that honorable
member, and he wondered at his now so pertinaciously
denying the existence of colors, and at his
wish to underrate their value. For his part, he
trusted he understood the importance of words, and
the value of hues; and while he did not exactly see
gentlemen appeared to think it, he was not by any
means prepared to go as far as those who had introduced
this resolution. He did not believe that
public opinion was satisfied with maintaining that
black was black, but he thought it was not yet disposed
to affirm that black was white. He did not
say that such a day might not arrive; he only
maintained that it had not yet arrived, and with a
view to meet that which he believed was the public
sentiment, he should move, by way of amendment,
to strike out the whole of the resolution after
the word “really,” and insert that which would
cause the whole resolution to read as follows, viz.
“Resolved, that the color which has hitherto
been deemed to be black, is really lead-color.”
Hereupon, the Honorable Mr. Smut took his seat,
leaving the house to its own ruminations. The
leaders of the Perpendiculars, foreseeing that if
they got half-way this session, they might effect the
rest of their object the next, determined to accept
the compromise; and the resolution, as amended,
passed by a handsome majority. So this important
point was finally decided for the moment, leaving
great hopes among the Perpendiculars of being
able to lay the Horizontals even flatter on their
backs than they were just then.
The next question that presented itself was of far
less interest, exciting no great attention. To understand
it, however, it will be necessary to refer a
little to history. The government of Leapthrough
had, about sixty-three years before, caused one hundred
and twenty-six Leaplow ships to be burned on
the high seas, or otherwise destroyed. The pretence
was, that they incommoded Leapthrough. Leaplow
was much too great a nation to submit to so
heinous an outrage, while, at the same time, she was
it in an every-day and vulgar manner. Instead of
getting in a passion and loading her cannon, she
summoned all her logic and began to reason. After
reasoning the matter with Leapthrough for fifty-two
years, or until all the parties who had been wronged
were dead, and could no longer be benefited by her
logic, she determined to abate two-thirds of her
pretensions in a pecuniary sense, and all her pretensions
in an honorary sense, and to compromise
the affair by accepting a certain insignificant sum
of money as a salve to the whole wrong. Leapthrough
conditioned to pay this money, in the most
solemn and satisfactory manner; and everybody
was delighted with the amicable termination of a
very vexatious and a seemingly interminable discussion.
Leapthrough was quite as glad to get rid
of the matter as Leaplow, and very naturally, under
all the circumstances, thought the whole thing at
length was done with, when she conditioned to pay
the money. The Great Sachem of Leaplow, most
unfortunately, however, had a “will of iron,” or, in
other words, he thought the money ought to be paid
as well as conditioned to be paid. This despotic
construction of the bargain had given rise to unheard-of
dissatisfaction in Leapthrough, as indeed
might have been expected; but it was, oddly enough,
condemned with some heat even in Leaplow itself,
where it was stoutly maintained by certain ingenious
logicians, that the only true way to settle a bargain
to pay money, was to make a new one for a less
sum, whenever the amount fell due; a plan that,
with a proper moderation and patience, would be
certain, in time, to extinguish the whole debt.
Several very elaborate patriots had taken this
matter in hand, and it was now about to be presented
to the house, under four different categories.
precision. It proposed merely that Leaplow should
pay the money itself, and take up the bond, using
its own funds. Category No. 2, embraced a recommendation
of the Great Sachem for Leaplow to
pay itself, using, however, certain funds of Leapthrough.
Category 3d, was a proposal to offer ten
millions to Leapthrough to say no more about the
transaction at all. Category 4th, was to commence
the negotiating or abating system mentioned, without
delay, in order to extinguish the claim by instalments
as soon as possible.
The question came up on the consideration of the
different projects connected with these four leading
principles. My limits will not admit of a detailed
history of the debate. All I can do, is merely to
give an outline of the logic that these various propositions
set in motion, of the legislative ingenuity
of which they were the parents, and of the multitude
of legitimate conclusions that so naturally followed.
In favor of Category No. 1, it was urged that,
by adopting its leading idea, the affair would be
altogether in our own hands, and might consequently
be settled with greater attention to purely Leaplow
interests; that further delay could only proceed
from our own negligence; that no other project
was so likely to get rid of this protracted negotiation
in so short a time; that by paying the debt
with the Leaplow funds, we should be sure of receiving
its amount in the good legal currency of
the republic; that it would be singularly economical,
as the agent who paid might also be authorized
to receive, whereby there would be a saving in
salary; and, finally, that, under this category, the
whole affair might be brought within the limits of
a nut-shell, and the compass of any one's understanding.
In favor of Category No. 2, little more than very
equivocal sophisms, which savored strongly of common-place
opinions, were presented. It was pretended,
for instance, that he who signed a bond was
in equity bound to pay it; that, if he refused, the
other party had the natural and legal remedy of
compulsion; that it might not always be convenient
for a creditor to pay all the obligations of other
people which he might happen to hold; that if his
transactions were extensive, money might be wanting
to carry out such a principle; and that, as a
precedent, it would comport much more with Leaplow
prudence and discretion to maintain the old and
tried notions of probity and justice, than to enter on
the unknown ocean of uncertainty that was connected
with the new opinions, by admitting which, we
could never know when we were fairly out of debt.
Category No. 3, was discussed on an entirely new
system of logic, which appeared to have great favor
with that class of the members who were of the
more refined school of ethics. These orators referred
the whole matter to a sentiment of honor. They
commenced by drawing vivid pictures of the outrages
in which the original wrongs had been committed.
They spoke of ruined families, plundered
mariners, and blasted hopes. They presented minute
arithmetical calculations to show that just forty
times as much wrong had, in fact, been done, as
this bond assumed; and that, as the case actually
stood, Leaplow ought, in strict justice, to receive
exactly forty times the amount of the money that
was actually included in the instrument. Turning
from these interesting details, they next presented
the question of honor. Leapthrough, by attacking
the Leaplow flag, and invading Leaplow rights,
had made it principally a question of honor, and,
in disposing of it, the principle of honor ought never
debts—this no one could dispute; but it was not so
clear, by any means, that there was any honor in
receiving one's dues. The national honor was
concerned; and they called on members, as they
cherished the sacred sentiment, to come forward
and sustain it by their votes. As the matter stood,
Leaplow had the best of it. In compounding with
her creditor, as had been done in the treaty,
Leapthrough lost some honor—in refusing to pay
the bond, she lost still more; and now, if we should
send her the ten millions proposed, and she should
have the weakness to accept it, we should fairly
get our foot upon her neck, and she could never
look us in the face again!
The Category No. 4, brought up a member who
had made political economy his chief study. This
person presented the following case:—According
to his calculations, the wrong had been committed
precisely sixty-three years, and twenty-six days, and
two-thirds of a day, ago. For the whole of that
long period Leaplow had been troubled with this
vexatious question, which had hung like a cloud
over the otherwise unimpaired brightness of her
political landscape. It was time to get rid of it.
The sum stipulated was just twenty-five millions,
to be paid in twenty-five annual instalments, of a
million each. Now, he proposed to reduce the
instalments to one half the number, but in no way
to change the sum. That point ought to be considered
as irrevocably settled. This would diminish
the debt one half. Before the first instalment
should become due, he would effect a postponement,
by diminishing the instalments again to six, referring
the time to the latest periods named in the last
treaty, and always, always most sacredly keeping the sums
precisely the same. It would be impossible to touch
as sacred. Before the expiration of the first seven
years, a new arrangement might reduce the instalments
to two, or even to one—always respecting
the sum; and finally, at the proper moment, a treaty
could be concluded, declaring that there should be
no instalment at all, reserving the point, that if
there had been an instalment, Leaplow could never
have consented to reduce it below one million. The
result would be, that in about five-and-twenty years
the country would be fairly rid of the matter, and
the national character, which it was agreed on all
hands was even now as high as it well could be,
would probably be raised many degrees higher.
The negotiation had commenced in a spirit of compromise;
and our character for consistency required
that this spirit of compromise should continue to
govern our conduct as long as a single farthing
remained unpaid.
This idea took wonderfully; and I do believe it
would have passed by a handsome majority, had
not a new proposition been presented, by an orator
of singularly pathetic powers.
The new speaker objected to all four of the categories.
He said that each and every one of them
would lead to war. Leapthrough was a chivalrous
and high-minded nation, as was apparent by the
present aspect of things. Should we presume to
take up the bond, using our own funds, it would
mortally offend her pride, and she would fight us;
did we presume to take up the bond, using her
funds, it would offend her financial system, and she
would fight us; did we presume to offer her ten millions
to say no more about the matter, it would
offend her dignity by intimating that she was to be
bought off from her rights, and she would fight us;
did we presume to adopt the system of new negotiations,
intimating that she would not respect her old negotiations,
and she would fight us. He saw war in
all four of the categories. He was for a peace category,
and he thought he had in his hand a proposition,
that by proper management, using the most
tender delicacy, and otherwise respecting the sensibilities
of the high and honorable nation in question,
we might possibly get out of this embarrassing
dilemma without actually coming to blows—he
said to blows, for he wished to impress on honorable
members the penalties of war. He invited
gentlemen to recollect that a conflict between two
great nations was a serious affair. If Leapthrough
were a little nation, it would be a different matter,
and the contest might be conducted in a corner;
our honor was intimately connected with all we did
with great nations. What was war? Did gentlemen
know?—He would tell them.
Here the orator drew a picture of war that
caused suffering monikinity to shudder. He viewed
it in its four leading points: its religious, its pecuniary,
its political, and its domestic penalties. He
described war to be the demon-state of the monikin
mind; as opposed to worship, to charity, brotherly
love, and all the virtues. On its pecuniary penalties,
he touched by exhibiting a tax-sheet. Buttons
which cost six-pence a gross, he assured the house
would shortly cost seven-pence a gross.—Here he
was reminded that monikins no longer wore buttons.—No
matter, they bought and sold buttons,
and the effects on trade were just the same. The
political penalties of war he fairly showed to be
frightful; but when he came to speak of the domestic
penalties, there was not a dry eye in the house.
Captain Poke blubbered so loud that I was in an
agony lest he should be called to order.
“Regard that pure spirit,” he cried, “crushed as
it has been in the whirlwind of war. Behold her
standing over the sod that covers the hero of his
country, the husband of her virgin affections. In
vain the orphan at her side turns its tearful eye upward,
and asks for the plumes that so lately pleased
its infant fancy; in vain its gentle voice inquires
when he is to return, when he is to gladden their
hearts with his presence”—But I can write no more.
Sobs interrupted the speaker, and he took his seat
in an ecstasy of godliness and benevolence.
I hurried across the house, to beg the Brigadier
would introduce me to this just monikin without
a moment's delay. I felt as if I could take him to
my heart at once, and swear an eternal friendship
with a spirit so benevolent. The Brigadier was too
much agitated, at first, to attend to me; but, after
wiping his eyes at least a hundred times, he finally
succeeded in arresting the torrents, and looked upward
with a bland smile.
“Is he not a wonderful monikin?”
“Wonderful indeed! How completely he puts
us all to shame!—Such a monikin can only be influenced
by the purest love for the species.”
“Yes, he is of a class that we call the third monikinity.
Nothing excites our zeal like the principles
of the class of which he is a member!”
“How! Have you more than one class of the
humane?”
“Certainly—the Original, the Representative,
and the Speculative.”
“I am devoured by the desire to understand the
distinctions, my dear Brigadier.”
“The Original is an every-day class, that feels
under the natural impulses. The Representative is
a more intellectual division, that feels chiefly by
proxy. The Speculatives are those whose sympathies
speaker. This person has lately bought a farm by
the acre, which he is about to sell, in village lots,
by the foot, and war will knock the whole thing in
the head. It is this which stimulates his benevolence
in so lively a manner.”
“Why, this is no more than a development of
the social-stake system—”
I was interrupted by the Speaker, who called the
house to order. The vote on the resolution of the
last orator was to be taken. It read as follows:—
“Resolved, that it is altogether unbecoming the
dignity and character of Leapthrough, for Leaplow
to legislate on the subject of so petty a consideration
as a certain pitiful treaty between the two countries.”
“Unanimity—unanimity!” was shouted by fifty
voices. Unanimity there was; and then the whole
house set to work, shaking hands and hugging each
other, in pure joy at the success of the honorable
and ingenious manner in which it had got rid of
this embarrassing and impertinent question.
| CHAPTER XI. The monikins | |