University of Virginia Library

14. CHAPTER XIV.

After this unlooked-for termination of what the colonists
called the `Pirate-War,' the colony enjoyed a long
period of peace and prosperity. The whaling business
was carried on with great success, and many connected
with it actually got rich. Among these was the governor,
who, in addition to his other means, soon found himself in
possession of more money than he could profitably dispose
of in that young colony. By his orders, no less than one
hundred thousand dollars were invested in his name, in
the United States six per cents, his friends in America
being empowered to draw the dividends, and, after using
a due proportion in the way of commissions, to re-invest
the remainder to his credit.

Nature did quite as much as art, in bringing on the
colony; the bounty of God, as the industry of man. It is
our duty, however, to allow that the colonists did not so
regard the matter. A great change came over their feelings,
after the success of the `Pirate-War,' inducing them
to take a more exalted view of themselves and their condition
than had been their wont. The ancient humility
seemed suddenly to disappear; and in its place a vainglorious
estimate of themselves and of their prowess arose
among the people. The word “people,” too, was in
everybody's mouth, as if the colonists themselves had
made those lovely islands, endowed them with fertility,

and rendered them what they were now fast becoming—
scenes of the most exquisite rural beauty, as well as granaries
of abundance. By this time, the palm-tree covered
more or less of every island; and the orange, lime, shaddock
and other similar plants, filled the air with the fragrance
of their flowers, or rendered it bright with the
golden hues of their fruits. In short, everything adapted
to the climate was flourishing in the plantations, and plenty
reigned even in the humblest dwelling.

This was a perilous condition for the healthful humility
of human beings. Two dangers beset them; both coloured
and magnified by a common tendency. One was
that of dropping into luxurious idleness—the certain precursor,
in such a climate, of sensual indulgences; and the
other was that of “waxing fat, and kicking.” The tendency
common to both, was to place self before God, and
not only to believe that they merited all they received, but
that they actually created a good share of it.

Of luxurious idleness, it was perhaps too soon to dread
its worst fruits. The men and women retained too many
of their early habits and impressions to drop easily into
such a chasm; on the contrary, they rather looked forward
to producing results greater than any which had yet attended
their exertions. An exaggerated view of self, however,
and an almost total forgetfulness of God, took the
place of the colonial humility with which they had commenced
their career in this new region. These feelings
were greatly heightened by three agents, that men ordinarily
suppose might have a very different effect—religion,
law, and the press.

When the Rancocus returned, a few months after the
repulse of the pirates, she had on board of her some fifty
emigrants; the council still finding itself obliged to admit
the friends of families already settled in the colony, on due
application. Unhappily, among these emigrants were a
printer, a lawyer, and no less than four persons who might
be termed divines. Of the last, one was a presbyterian,
one a methodist,—the third was a baptist, and the fourth a
quaker. Not long after the arrival of this importation, its
consequences became visible. The sectaries commenced
with a thousand professions of brotherly love, and a great

parade of Christian charity; indeed they pretended that
they had emigrated in order to enjoy a higher degree of
religious liberty than was now to be found in America,
where men were divided into sects, thinking more of their
distinguishing tenets than of the Being whom they professed
to serve. Forgetting the reasons which brought
them from home, or quite possibly carrying out the impulses
which led them to resist their former neighbours,
these men set to work, immediately, to collect followers,
and believers after their own peculiar notions. Parson
Hornblower, who had hitherto occupied the ground by
himself, but who was always a good deal inclined to what
are termed “distinctive opinions,” buckled on his armour,
and took the field in earnest. In order that the sheep of
one flock should not be mistaken for the sheep of another,
great care was taken to mark each and all with the brand
of sect. One clipped an ear, another smeared the wool
(or drew it over the eyes) and a third, as was the case
with Friend Stephen Dighton, the quaker, put on an entire
covering, so that his sheep might be known by their outward
symbols, far as they could be seen. In a word, on
those remote and sweet islands, which, basking in the sun
and cooled by the trades, seemed designed by providence
to sing hymns daily and hourly to their maker's praise, the
subtleties of sectarian faith smothered that humble submission
to the divine law by trusting solely to the mediation,
substituting in its place immaterial observances and
theories which were much more strenuously urged than
clearly understood. The devil, in the form of a “professor,”
once again entered Eden; and the Peak, with so
much to raise the soul above the grosser strife of men, was
soon ringing with discussions on “free grace,” “immersion,”
“spiritual baptism,” and the “apostolical succession.”
The birds sang as sweetly as ever, and their
morning and evening songs hymned the praises of their
creator as of old; but, not so was it with the morning and
evening devotions of men. These last began to pray at
each other, and if Mr. Hornblower was an exception, it
was because his admirable liturgy did not furnish him
with the means of making these forays into the enemy's
camp.

Nor did the accession of law and intelligence help the
matter much. Shortly after the lawyer made his appearance,
men began to discover that they were wronged by
their neighbours, in a hundred ways which they had never
before discovered. Law, which had hitherto been used for
the purposes of justice, and of justice only, now began to
be used for those of speculation and revenge. A virtue
was found in it that had never before been suspected of existing
in the colony; it being discovered that men could make
not only very comfortable livings, but, in some cases, get
rich, by the law; not by its practice, but by its practices.
Now came into existence an entire new class of philanthropists;
men who were ever ready to lend their money
to such of the needy as possessed property, taking judgment
bonds, mortgages, and other innocent securities,
which were received because the lender always acted on a
principle of not lending without them, or had taken a
vow, or made their wives promises; the end of all being
a transfer of title, by which the friendly assistant commonly
relieved his dupe of the future care of all his property.
The governor soon observed that one of these philanthropists
rarely extended his saving hand, that the borrower
did not come out as naked as the ear of the corn
that has been through the sheller, or nothing but cob; and
that, too, in a sort of patent-right time. Then there were
the labourers of the press to add to the influence of those
of religion and the law. The press took up the cause of
human rights, endeavouring to transfer the power of the
state from the public departments to its own printing-office;
and aiming at establishing all the equality that can flourish
when one man has a monopoly of the means of making
his facts to suit himself, leaving his neighbours to get along
under such circumstances as they can. But the private
advantage secured to himself by this advocate of the
rights of all, was the smallest part of the injury he did,
though his own interests were never lost sight of, and coloured
all he did; the people were soon convinced that
they had hitherto been living under an unheard-of tyranny,
and were invoked weekly to arouse in their might, and be
true to themselves and their posterity. In the first place,
not a tenth of them had ever been consulted on the subject

of the institutions at all, but had been compelled to
take them as they found them. Nor had the present incumbents
of office been placed in power by a vote of a
majority, the original colonists having saved those who
came later to the island all trouble in the premises. In
these facts was an unceasing theme of declamation and
complaint to be found. It was surprising how little the
people really knew of the oppression under which they
laboured, until this stranger came amongst them to enlighten
their understandings. Nor was it less wonderful
how many sources of wrong he exposed, that no one had
ever dreamed of having an existence. Although there was
not a tax of any sort laid in the colony, not a shilling ever
collected in the way of import duties, he boldly pronounced
the citizens of the islands to be the most overburthened
people in christendom! The taxation of England was nothing
to it, and he did not hesitate to proclaim a general
bankruptcy as the consequence, unless some of his own
expedients were resorted to, in order to arrest the evil.
Our limits will not admit of a description of the process by
which this person demonstrated that a people who literally
contributed nothing at all, were overtaxed; but any one who
has paid attention to the opposing sides of a discussion on
such a subject, can readily imagine how easily such an apparent
contradiction can be reconciled, and the proposition
demonstrated.

In the age of which we are writing, a majority of mankind
fancied that a statement made in print was far more
likely to be true than one made orally. Then he who stood
up in his proper person and uttered his facts on the responsibility
of his personal character, was far less likely to gain
credit than the anonymous scribbler, who recorded his lie
on paper, though he made his record behind a screen, and
half the time as much without personal identity as he
would be found to be without personal character, were he
actually seen and recognised. In our time, the press has
pretty effectually cured all observant persons at least of
giving faith to a statement merely because it is in print,
and has become so far alive to its own great inferiority as
publicly to talk of conventions to purify itself, and otherwise
to do something to regain its credit; but such was

not the fact, even in America, forty years since. The
theory of an unrestrained press has fully developed itself
within the last quarter of a century, so that even the
elderly ladies, who once said with marvellous unction, “It
must be true, for it 's in print,” are now very apt to say,
“Oh! it 's only a newspaper account!” The foulest pool
has been furnished by a beneficent Providence with the
means of cleansing its own waters.

But the “Crater Truth-Teller” could utter its lies, as a
privileged publication, at the period of this narrative.
Types still had a sanctity; and it is surprising how much
they deceived, and how many were their dupes. The journal
did not even take the ordinary pains to mystify its
readers, and to conceal its own cupidity, as are practised
in communities more advanced in civilization. We dare
say that journals are to be found in London and Paris, that
take just as great liberties with the fact as the Crater Truth-Teller;
but they treat their readers with a little more outward
respect, however much they may mislead them with
falsehoods. Your London and Paris publics are not to be
dealt with as if composed of credulous old women, but require
something like a plausible mystification to throw dust
in their eyes. They have a remarkable proneness to believe
that which they wish, it is true; but, beyond that weakness,
some limits are placed to their faith, and appearances must
be a good deal consulted.

But at the crater no such precaution seemed to be necessary.
It is true that the editor did use the pronoun
“we,” in speaking of himself; but he took all other occasions
to assert his individuality, and to use his journal diligently
in its behalf. Thus, whenever he got into the law,
his columns were devoted to publicly maintaining his own
side of the question, although such a course was not only
opposed to every man's sense of propriety, but was directly
flying into the teeth of the laws of the land; but little did
he care for that. He was a public servant, and of course
all he did was right. To be sure, other public servants
were in the same category, all they did being wrong; but
he had the means of telling his own story, and a large
number of gaping dunces were ever ready to believe him.
His manner of filling his larder is particularly worthy of

being mentioned. Quite as often as once a week, his journal
had some such elegant article as this, viz: — “Our
esteemed friend, Peter Snooks” — perhaps it was Peter
Snooks, Esquire—“has just brought us a fair specimen of
his cocoa-nuts, which we do not hesitate in recommending
to the housekeepers of the crater, as among the choicest
of the group.” Of course, 'Squire Snooks was grateful for
this puff, and often brought more cocoa-nuts. The same
great supervision was extended to the bananas, the bread-fruit,
the cucumbers, the melons, and even the squashes,
and always with the same results to the editorial larder.
Once, however, this worthy did get himself in a quandary
with his use of the imperial pronoun. A mate of one of
the vessels inflicted personal chastisement on him, for some
impertinent comments he saw fit to make on the honest
tar's vessel; and, this being matter of intense interest to
the public mind, he went into a detail of all the evolutions
of the combat. Other men may pull each other's noses,
and inflict kicks and blows, without the world's caring a
straw about it; but the editorial interest is too intense to
be overlooked in this manner. A bulletin of the battle
was published; the editor speaking of himself always in
the plural, out of excess of modesty, and to avoid egotism
(!) in three columns which were all about himself,
using such expressions as these: — “We now struck our
antagonist a blow with our fist, and followed this up with
a kick of our foot, and otherwise we made an assault on
him that he will have reason to remember to his dying day.”
Now, these expressions, for a time, set all the old women
in the colony against the editor, until he went into an elaborate
explanation, showing that his modesty was so painfully
sensitive that he could not say I on any account,
though he occupied three more columns of his paper in
explaining the state of our feelings. But, at first, the cry
went forth that the battle had been of two against one;
and that even the simple-minded colonists set down as
somewhat cowardly. So much for talking about we in the
bulletin of a single combat!

The political effects produced by this paper, however,
were much the most material part of its results. Whenever
it offended and disgusted its readers by its dishonesty,

selfishness, vulgarity, and lies—and it did this every week,
being a hebdomadal — it recovered the ground it had lost
by beginning to talk of `the people' and their rights. This
the colonists could not withstand. All their sympathies
were enlisted in behalf of him who thought so much of
their rights; and, at the very moment he was trampling on
these rights, to advance his own personal views, and even
treating them with contempt by uttering the trash he did,
they imagined that he and his paper in particular, and its
doctrines in general, were a sort of gift from Heaven to
form the palladium of their precious liberties!

The great theory advanced by this editorial tyro, was,
that a majority of any community had a right to do as it
pleased. The governor early saw, not only the fallacies,
but the danger of this doctrine; and he wrote several communications
himself, in order to prove that it was false. If
true, he contended it was true altogether; and that it must
be taken, if taken as an axiom at all, with its largest consequences.
Now, if a majority has a right to rule, in this
arbitrary manner, it has a right to set its dogmas above the
commandments, and to legalize theft, murder, adultery,
and all the other sins denounced in the twentieth chapter
of Exodus. This was a poser to the demagogue, but he
made an effort to get rid of it, by excepting the laws of
God, which he allowed that even majorities were bound to
respect. Thereupon, the governor replied that the laws
of God were nothing but the great principles which ought
to govern human conduct, and that his concession was an
avowal that there was a power to which majorities should
defer. Now, this was just as true of minorities as it was
of majorities, and the amount of it all was that men, in
establishing governments, merely set up a standard of principles
which they pledged themselves to respect; and that,
even in the most democratical communities, all that majorities
could legally effect was to decide certain minor questions
which, being necessarily referred to some tribunal
for decision, was of preference referred to them. If there
was a power superior to the will of the majority, in the
management of human affairs, then majorities were not
supreme; and it behooved the citizen to regard the last as
only what they really are, and what they were probably

designed to be—tribunals subject to the control of certain
just principles.

Constitutions, or the fundamental law, the governor went
on to say, were meant to be the expression of those just
and general principles which should control human society,
and as such should prevail over majorities. Constitutions
were expressly intended to defend the rights of
minorities; since without them, each question, or interest,
might be settled by the majority, as it arose. It was but a
truism to say that the oppression of the majority was the
worst sort of oppression; since the parties injured not only
endured the burthen imposed by many, but were cut off
from the sympathy of their kind, which can alleviate
much suffering, by the inherent character of the tyranny.

There was a great deal of good sense, and much truth
in what the governor wrote, on this occasion; but of what
avail could it prove with the ignorant and short-sighted,
who put more trust in one honeyed phrase of the journal,
that flourished about the `people' and their `rights,' than
in all the arguments that reason, sustained even by revelation,
could offer to show the fallacies and dangers of this
new doctrime. As a matter of course, the wiles of the
demagogue were not without fruits. Although every man
in the colony, either in his own person, or in that of his
parent or guardian, had directly entered into the covenants
of the fundamental law, as that law then existed, they now
began to quarrel with its provisions, and to advance doctrines
that would subvert everything as established, in
order to put something new and untried in its place.
Progress was the great desideratum; and change was the
hand-maiden of progress. A sort of `puss in the corner'
game was started, which was to enable those who had no
places to run into the seats of those who had. This is a
favourite pursuit of man, all over the world, in monarchies
as well as in democracies; for, after all that institutions
can effect, there is little change in men by putting on, or
in taking off ermine and robes, or in wearing `republican
simplicity,' in office or out of office; but the demagogue is
nothing but the courtier, pouring out his homage in the
gutters, instead of in an ante-chamber.

Nor did the governor run into extremes in his attempts

to restrain the false reasoning and exaggerations of the
demagogue and his deluded, or selfish followers. Nothing
would be easier than to demonstrate that their notions of
the rights of numbers was wrong, to demonstrate that were
their theories carried out in practice, there could be, and
would be nothing permanent or settled in human affairs;
yet not only did each lustrum, but each year, each month,
each week, each hour, each minute demand its reform.
Society must be periodically reduced to its elements, in
order to redress grievances. The governor did not deny
that men had their natural rights, at the very moment he
insisted that these rights were just as much a portion of
the minority as of the majority. He was perfectly willing
that equal laws should prevail, as equal laws did prevail in
the colony, though he was not disposed to throw everything
into confusion merely to satisfy a theory. For a
long time, therefore, he opposed the designs of the new-school,
and insisted on his vested rights, as established in
the fundamental law, which had made him ruler for life.
But “it is hard to kick against the pricks.” Although
the claim of the governor was in every sense connected
with justice, perfectly sacred, it could not resist the throes
of cupidity, selfishness, and envy. By this time, the newspaper,
that palladium of liberty, had worked the minds of
the masses to a state in which the naked pretension of
possessing rights that were not common to everybody else
was, to the last degree, “tolerable and not to be endured.”
To such a height did the fever of liberty rise, that men
assumed a right to quarrel with the private habits of the
governor and his family, some pronouncing him proud because
he did not neglect his teeth, as the majority did, eat
when they ate, and otherwise presumed to be of different
habits from those around him. Some even objected to
him because he spat in his pocket-handkerchief, and did
not blow his nose with his fingers.

All this time, religion was running riot, as well as politics.
The next-door neighbours hated each other most
sincerely, because they took different views of regeneration,
justification, predestination and all the other subtleties
of doctrine. What was remarkable, they who had the
most clouded notions of such subjects were the loudest in

their denunciations. Unhappily, the Rev. Mr. Hornblower,
who had possession of the ground, took a course which had
a tendency to aggravate instead of lessening this strife
among the sects. Had he been prudent, he would have
proclaimed louder than ever “Christ, and him crucified;”
but, he made the capital mistake of going up and down,
crying with the mob, “the church, the church!” This
kept constantly before the eyes and ears of the dissenting
part of the population—dissenting from his opinions if not
from an establishment—the very features that were the
most offensive to them. By “the church” they did not
understand the same divine institution as that recognised
by Mr. Hornblower himself, but surplices, and standing
up and sitting down, and gowns, and reading prayers out
of a book, and a great many other similar observances,
which were deemed by most of the people relics of the
“scarlet woman.” It is wonderful, about what insignificant
matters men can quarrel, when they wish to fall out.
Perhaps religion, under these influences, had quite as
much to do with the downfall of the governor, which
shortly after occurred, as politics, and the newspaper, and
the new lawyer, all of which and whom did everything that
was in their power to destroy him.

At length, the demagogues thought they had made sufficient
progress to spring their mine. The journal came
out with a proposal to call a convention, to alter and improve
the fundamental law. That law contained a clause
already pointing out the mode by which amendments were
to be made in the constitution; but this mode required the
consent of the governor, of the council, and finally, of the
people. It was a slow, deliberative process, too, one by
which men had time to reflect on what they were doing,
and so far protected vested rights as to render it certain
that no very great revolution could be effected under its
shadow. Now, the disaffected aimed at revolution—at
carrying out completely the game of “puss in the corner,”
and it became necessary to set up some new principle by
which they could circumvent the old fundamental law.

This was very easily accomplished in the actual state of
the public mind; it was only to carry out the doctrine of
the sway of the majority to a practical result; and this was

so cleverly done as actually to put the balance of power in
the hands of the minority. There is nothing new in this,
however, as any cool-headed man may see in this enlightened
republic of our own, daily examples in which the
majority-principle works purely for the aggrandizement
of a minority clique. It makes very little difference how
men are ruled; they will be cheated; for, failing of rogues
at head-quarters to perform that office for them, they are
quite certain to set to work to devise some means of cheating
themselves. At the crater this last trouble was spared
them, the opposition performing that office in the following
ingenious manner.

The whole colony was divided into parishes, which exercised
in themselves a few of the minor functions of government.
They had a limited legislative power, like the
American town meetings. In these parishes, laws were
passed, to require the people to vote `yes' or `no,' in order
to ascertain whether there should, or should not be, a convention
to amend the constitution. About one-fourth of
the electors attended these primary meetings, and of the
ten meetings which were held, in six “yes” prevailed by
average majorities of about two votes in each parish. This
was held to be demonstration of the wishes of the majority
of the people to have a convention, though most of those
who staid away did so because they believed the whole
procedure not only illegal, but dangerous. Your hungry
demagogue, however, is not to be defeated by any scruples
so delicate. To work these élites of the colony went, to
organise an election for members of the convention. At
this election about a third of the electors appeared, the
candidates succeeding by handsome majorities, the rest
staying away because they believed the whole proceedings
illegal. Thus fortified by the sacred principle of the sway
of majorities, these representatives of a minority, met in
convention, and formed an entirely new fundamental law;
one, indeed, that completely subverted the old one, not
only in fact, but in theory. In order to get rid of the governor
to a perfect certainty, for it was known that he
could still command more votes for the office than any
other man in the colony, one article provided that no person
should hold the office of governor, either prospectively,

or perspectively, more than five years, consecutively. This
placed Mr. Mark Woolston on the shelf at the next election.
Two legislative bodies were formed, the old council
was annihilated, and everything was done that cunning
could devise, to cause power and influence to pass into
new hands. This was the one great object of the whole
procedure, and, of course, it was not neglected.

When the new constitution was completed, it was referred
back to the people for approval. At this third appeal
to the popular voice, rather less than half of all the
electors voted, the constitution being adopted by a majority
of one-third of those who did. By this simple, and exquisite
republican process, was the principle of the sway of majorities
vindicated, a new fundamental law for the colony provided,
and all the old incumbents turned out of office.
`Silence gives consent,' cried the demagogues, who forgot
they had no right to put their questions!

Religion had a word to say in these changes. The circumstance
that the governor was an Episcopalian reconciled
many devout Christians to the palpable wrong that
was done him; and it was loudly argued that a church
government of bishops, was opposed to republicanism, and
consequently ought not to be entertained by republicans.
This charming argument, which renders religious faith
secondary to human institutions, instead of human institutions
secondary to religions faith, thus completely putting
the cart before the horse, has survived that distant revolution,
and is already flourishing in more eastern climes. It
is as near an approach to an idolatrous worship of self, as
human conceit has recently tolerated.

As a matter of course, elections followed the adoption
of the new constitution. Pennock was chosen governor
for two years; the new lawyer was made judge, the editor,
secretary of state and treasurer; and other similar changes
were effected. All the Woolston connection were completely
laid on the shelf. This was not done so much by
the electors, with whom they were still popular, as by means
of the nominating committees. These nominating committees
were expedients devised to place the power in the
hands of a few, in a government of the many. The rule
of the majority is so very sacred a thing that it is found

necessary to regulate it by legerdemain. No good republican
ever disputes the principle, while no sagacious one
ever submits to it. There are various modes, however, of
defeating all `sacred principles,' and this particular `sacred
principle' among the rest. The simplest is that of caucus
nominations. The process is a singular illustration of the
theory of a majority-government. Primary meetings are
called, at which no one is ever present, but the wire-pullers
and their puppets. Here very fierce conflicts occur between
the wire-pullers themselves, and these are frequently
decided by votes as close as majorities of one, or two.
Making the whole calculation, it follows that nominations
are usually made by about a tenth, or even a twentieth of
the body of the electors; and this, too, on the supposition
that they who vote actually have opinions of their own, as
usually they have not, merely wagging their tongues as the
wires are pulled. Now, these nominations are conclusive,
when made by the ruling party, since there are no concerted
means of opposing them. A man must have a flagrantly
bad character not to succeed under a regular nomination,
or he must be too honest for the body of the electors;
one fault being quite as likely to defeat him as the other.

In this way was a great revolution effected in the colony
of the crater. At one time, the governor thought of knocking
the whole thing in the head, by the strong arm; as he
might have done, and would have been perfectly justified
in doing. The Kannakas were now at his command, and,
in truth, a majority of the electors were with him; but
political jugglery held them in duress. A majority of the
electors of the state of New York are, at this moment, opposed
to universal suffrage, especially as it is exercised in
the town and village governments, but moral cowardice
holds them in subjection. Afraid of their own shadows,
each politician hesitates to `bell the cat.' What is more,
the select aristocrats and monarchists are the least bold in
acting frankly, and in saying openly what they think;
leaving that office to be discharged, as it ever will be, by
the men who—true democrats, and not canting democrats
—willing to give the people just as much control as they
know how to use, or which circumstances will allow them
to use beneficially to themselves, do not hesitate to speak

with the candour and manliness of their principles. These
men call things by their right names, equally eschewing
the absurdity of believing that nature intended rulers to
descend from male to male, according to the order of primogeniture,
or the still greater nonsense of supposing it
necessary to obtain the most thrifty plants from the hotbeds
of the people, that they may be transplanted into the
beds of state, reeking with the manure of the gutters.

The governor submitted to the changes, through a love
of peace, and ceased to be anything more than a private
citizen, when he had so many claims to be first, and when,
in fact, he had so long been first. No sovereign on his
throne, could write Gratiá Dei before his titles with stricter
conformity to truth, than Mark Woolston; but his right
did not preserve him from the ruthless plunder of the demagogue.
To his surprise, as well as to his grief, Pennock
was seduced by ambition, and he assumed the functions
of the executive with quite as little visible hesitation,
as the heir apparent succeeds to his father's crown.

It would be untrue to say that Mark did not feel the
change; but it is just to add that he felt more concern for
the future fate of the colony, than he did for himself or his
children. Nor, when he came to reflect on the matter, was
he so much surprised that he could be supplanted in this
way, under a system in which the sway of the majority was
so much lauded, when he did not entertain a doubt that
considerably more than half of the colony preferred the
old system to the new, and that the same proportion of the
people would rather see him in the Colony House, than to
see John Pennock in his stead. But Mark—we must call
him the governor no longer—had watched the progress of
events closely, and began to comprehend them. He had
learned the great and all-important political truth, THAT
THE MORE A PEOPLE ATTEMPT TO EXTEND THEIR POWER
DIRECTLY OVER STATE AFFAIRS, THE LESS THEY, IN
FACT, CONTROL THEM, AFTER HAVING ONCE PASSED THE
POINT OF NAMING LAWGIVERS AS THEIR REPRESENTATIVES;
MERELY BESTOWING ON A FEW ARTFUL MANAGERS
THE INFLUENCE THEY VAINLY IMAGINE TO HAVE SECURED
TO THEMSELVES. This truth should be written in letters
of gold, at every corner of the streets and highways in a

republic; for truth it is, and truth, those who press the foremost
on another path will the soonest discover it to be.
The mass may select their representatives, may know them,
and may in a good measure so far sway them, as to keep
them to their duties; but when a constituency assumes to
enact the part of executive and judiciary, they not only get
beyond their depth, but into the mire. What can, what
does the best-informed layman, for instance, know of the
qualifications of this or that candidate to fill a seat on the
bench! He has to take another's judgment for his guide;
and a popular appointment of this nature, is merely transferring
the nomination from an enlightened, and, what is
everything, a RESPONSIBLE authority, to one that is unavoidably
at the mercy of second persons for its means of
judging, and is as IRRESPONSIBLE AS AIR.

At one time, Mark Woolston regretted that he had not
established an opposition paper, in order to supply an antidote
for the bane; but reflection satisfied him it would have
been useless. Everything human follows its law, until
checked by abuses that create resistance. This is true of
the monarch, who misuses power until it becomes tyranny;
of the nobles, who combine to restrain the monarch, until
the throes of an aristocracy-ridden country proclaim that
it has merely changed places with the prince; of the people,
who wax fat and kick! Everything human is abused; and
it would seem that the only period of tolerable condition
is the transition state, when the new force is gathering to
a head, and before the storm has time to break. In the
mean time, the earth revolves, men are born, live their
time, and die; communities are formed and are dissolved;
dynasties appear and disappear; good contends with evil,
and evil still has its day; the whole, however, advancing
slowly but unerringly towards that great consummation,
which was designed from the beginning, and which is as
certain to arrive in the end, as that the sun sets at night
and rises in the morning. The supreme folly of the hour
is to imagine that perfection will come before its stated
time.