 | THE
MERRY TALES
OF THE
THREE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM. THE MAN MACHINE;
OR,
THE PUPIL OF “CIRCUMSTANCES.” The merry tales of the three wise men of Gotham |  |
1. THE
MERRY TALES
OF THE
THREE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM.
THE MAN MACHINE;
OR,
THE PUPIL OF “CIRCUMSTANCES.”
I was born, began the first Wise Man of Gotham,
in a country that I consider unworthy of my nativity,
and for that reason I shall do all in my
power to deprive it of the honour, by not mentioning
its name. I am, moreover, descended from
a family, which must necessarily be of great antiquity,
since, like all old things, it has long since
fallen into decay. My father had little or no money,
but was blessed with the poor man's wealth,
a fruitful wife and great store of children. Of
these I am the eldest; but at the period I shall
commence my story, we were all too young to
take care of ourselves, until the fortunate discovery
was made by some great philanthropist, that
little children, of six or seven years old, could
labour a dozen or fourteen hours a day without
stinting their minds, ruining their health, or destroying
their morals. This improvement in the
great science of PRODUCTIVE LABOUR, delighted my
say, from his own shoulders to that of his children.
He forthwith bound us all over to a cotton
manufactory, where we stood upon our legs
three times as long as a member of congress, that
is to say, fourteen hours a day, and among eight
of us, managed to earn a guinea a week. The
old gentleman, for gentleman he became from the
moment he discovered his little flock could maintain
him—thought he had opened a mine. He
left off working, and took to drinking and studying
the mysteries of political economy and productive
labour. He soon became an adept in this
glorious science, and at length arrived at the happy
conclusion, that the whole moral, physical, political
and religious organization of society, resolved
itself into making the most of human labour,
just as we do of that of our horses, oxen, asses
and other beasts of burthen.
I was nine years old when I went into bondage,
and had previously learned to read and write
pretty fluently; for in my country there are few
so poor that they cannot obtain these advantages.
It was lucky for me, for I never learned any
thing afterwards but the art of adding to the
amount of productive labour. I continued in this
happy asylum of infant innocence till I was thirteen
years old. I say happy, according to the
glorious science of productive labour. It is true
to eat it in, it was of little consequence whether
we had plenty to eat or not. The short space
allowed us for eating had another great advantage,
as the superintendent assured us. By swallowing
without chewing, our food was longer in
digesting, and of course administered more to our
nourishment. He instanced the snakes, who always
swallowed their prey whole—and the wisdom
of serpents was proverbial. Food and time were
precious things, and people ought to make the
most of them. It was also a maxim with him
that too much liberty or leisure, was quite as bad
as too much food and too much time to eat it
in. It made people radicals and unbelievers.
Thus he clearly proved that the little we had to
eat, and the little time to eat it, was highly beneficial.
To enforce this salutary doctrine, there was a
system of fines, which for a long while made a
great hole in our pockets. Our moments were
all numbered—there was a fine for every moment
we exceeded the limited time of meals—a fine
for every moment we went beyond the specified
time allowed for all the ordinary operations of
nature—a fine for looking out at a window—a
fine for opening a window, although we might be
suffocating in an atmosphere of cotton exhalations,
heated like an oven—a fine for sneezing, lest we
and thus diminish the amount of productive
labour. There was a fine for nodding over a
spinning jenney, when the poor souls, worn out
with the endless monotonous toils of the day, involuntarily
sought refuge in a momentary forgetfulness.
In short, we were chained and enslaved
by a system of petty fines and exactions, which, in
addition to the certainty of being punished on Saturday
night, when we brought home our diminished
earnings, soon made us as docile as the
galley slave at his oar. We had neither time to
learn, nor inclination to play, for the short intermission
of our labours was passed in dozing. We
became stupified in mind, and the functions of
our bodies gradually obeyed the impulses of the
engine, which gave life and motion to the machinery.
By the time I had been there three
years, I became sensible that my soul had transmigrated
into a spinning jenney, and that I had
actually become a piece of machinery.
But the happy discovery that even little children
of six or seven years old could add to the
amount of productive labour, instead of wickedly
eating and being merry at school or at play, was
fated to be improved upon, like every thing else
in this most improving age. Some persons of rather
morbid sensibility, began to surmise that this
mode of calling out the productive labour of little
either humane or politic. It was discovered
in the course of inquiry, that this seclusion
from air, exercise, instruction and amusement,
together with the total absence of all variety in
the routine of their existence, each so essential
to the welfare and happiness of children, was
highly pernicious to their health, their morals and
their minds. Though it might add to the great
mass of productive labour, it was equally certain
that it also added to productive vice and ignorance.
Various plans were accordingly suggested
from time to time, for combining perpetual confinement
and labour, with the necessary freedom,
instruction and amusement; and for arresting the
progress of moral and physical degeneracy, without
infringing upon the paramount claims of productive
labour—the grand and only desideratum of
the social compact.
It was in pursuance of this great object that a
celebrated philosopher, or philanthropist, I hardly
know which, fortunately conceived a plan by
which these desirable effects might not only be
produced, but combined with an entire new state
of society, which would remove all temptation
to crime, and consequently all necessity for punishment.
Accordingly he lost no time in establishing
in our neighbourhood a manufactory for
man.
My father was quite taken with this improvement
in the glorious science of productive labour,
which he considered would be killing two birds
with one stone; and for my part I was quite willing
to go just whither he pleased. I had lost
all habit of thinking or acting for myself, and
being pretty well assured that I could not be
much worse off, felt perfectly resigned to go any
where else, than where I was. I never envied
any thing that I recollect, but a little bird that
had made its nest within view of the window
where I worked, and whose merry notes and
wayward liberty, sometimes brought the tears into
my eyes, without my knowing what was the matter
with me. The superintendent caught me at
it one day, and fined me for losing time in wiping
them away with my sleeve. I accordingly joined
the new establishment with as little anxiety or
anticipation as the blind man changes his prospect.
When about five hundred men, women and
little children were got together, our master, the
manufacturing philosopher, made us a speech, in
which he proceeded to lay down his first principles.
I think I remember almost his very words,
for they made a great impression at the time,
and he often repeated them afterwards. My
to exercise during the early part of my life,
has likewise become very retentive.
“I consider,” said he, “the people employed in
my establishment as a part of the machinery, the
whole of which it is my duty and interest to combine,
so that every hand, as well as every spring,
lever and wheel, shall effectually co-operate to
produce the greatest pecuniary gain to the proprietors,
which is what I understand by the perfectibility
of the Man Machine.[1]
“You are well aware of the advantages of having
good substantial machinery, and the necessity of
keeping it clean, well arranged and in a high state
of repair; and that if it is allowed to get dirty, and
out of order, it produces unnecessary friction, and
consequently will not perform the same quantity of
work. If then a want of due care as to the state of
your inanimate machines, produces such mischievous
results, what may not be expected when the
MAN MACHINE is suffered to get out of order by
neglect?
“When you shall acquire a right knowledge of
these machines, their curious mechanism—their
self-adjusting power—when the proper main spring
shall be applied to their various movements, you
will become conscious of their real value, and you
will be readily induced to turn your thoughts more
frequently from your inanimate to your living machines;
you will discover that the latter may be
easily trained and directed to procure A LARGE INCREASE
OF PECUNIARY GAIN, while you may also
derive from them high and substantial gratification.
“Now the main springs, or first principles, which
I would apply to the regulation of these Men Machines,
are equally obvious and simple. In the
first place, I am fully satisfied that children are
merely compounded of corporeal machinery; and
that, as you may equally apply the powers of a
steam engine to the manufactory of cotton or the
destruction of mankind, so you may with equal
ease direct the machinery of man to good or evil
purposes. In the one case, it is done by regulating
the operation of the steam engine by certain rules
of science and experience, in the other by example
and education. Unhappily, however, the talents
and ingenuity of men, have lately been too much
turned to the object of improving inanimate machinery,
forgetting, it would seem, that the labour of
the Man Machine may, by proper regulation, be so
regulated and arranged that one man may be able to
do the work of twenty.
“Not only this, but I will venture to assert, without
fear of contradiction, that as you may improve
the Man Machine so as to make it doubly operative
in adding to the mass of productive labour; so
may you in like manner give it, at the same time, any
character you please, by means which are at the
command of all those who influence the affairs of
the world and take a proper advantage of circumtances.
I also assert, that a community may be
so trained, as to live without idleness, without poverty,
without crime and without punishment, by the
mere application of circumstances.[2]
“I assert, in the second place, that the will of
man has no power over his opinions, and therefore
it is absurd to make him accountable for errors
which originate entirely in a defective system of
education, over which he has no control whatever,
at the period in which he receives all his impressions.
In fact, my dearly beloved machines, it
is susceptible of demonstration, that from the creation
of the world to the present time, all men have
been erroneously trained, and hence all the inconsistencies
and misery of this world.[3]
Hence, it arises
that generation after generation have been taught
crime from their infancy, and when so taught,
entangled beyond escape in the toils and nets of the
law. All this would have been avoided had CIRCUMSTANCES
been altered. The judge would have
been at the bar, and the criminal on the bench.
“From these undeniable facts, it results that as
the human machine cannot be accountable in the eye
of reason for opinions originating in an erroneous
system of education over which it has no control,
so neither can it be legally or morally accountable
for its actions so far as they are influenced by those
opinions. To punish the Man Machine for these
by fine, imprisonment or death, is therefore about
as rational and just, as to punish a spinning jenney
for going wrong, after being constructed on wrong
principles. Indeed nothing can be more absurd or
barbarous than the whole system of punishments.
Punishment, I will venture to assert, never has, nor
ever can have any effect to prevent the commission
of crime, as is proved by the daily commission
of crimes, notwithstanding these punishments.
“Punishment does not entirely prevent the
commission of crimes; therefore it does not prevent
them at all; therefore it is absurd, inexpedient, and
cruel. Experience therefore has settled the question.
But even if this were not the case, analogy
would be decisive on the subject. It is the opinion
of some of the best philosophers, that mankind
originally derived all their knowledge and a great
beasts of the field; and certainly this is a much
better foundation, than the erroneous system of
education which has been pursued for the last six
thousand years, and which by gradually substituting
the precepts of blockheads, for the examples of
nature, hath brought ruin upon a thousand generations.
Look round then upon all nature, and see
what her unsophisticated votaries practice. Is the
eagle punished by the rest of his tribe for robbing
the fish-hawk of the prey he has attained by long
and laborious watchfulness? Is the rat or the
weasel clapt up in his hole, for the better part of
his life, by a jury of rats or weasels, for making
inroads upon a cheese, or robbing a hen-roost that
did not belong to him? Is the tyger hung in chains
by his self-styled rulers, for tearing a lamb to pieces?
Or is the lordly lion shut out from the light of
heaven, and fed on bread and water, because he
follows the instinct of nature in hunting down and
devouring the weaker animals? No, my dear
Men Machines, the wise animals of the forest, are
too reasonable to punish their fellows, for doing
what nature, habit, example, and education have
made it impossible they should not do.
“Extend the analogy through all creation, and
you will find man alone arrogating to himself the
prerogative of punishing his fellow creatures, for
the absurd purpose of preventing crime. And
mankind are absolutely allured into the commission
of crimes, by the very terror of punishment, in the
same manner, that birds are inevitably drawn into
the jaws of the serpent, from the actual fascination
of terror.
“Besides this, it is demonstrable, that criminal
laws, instead of preventing, create crime, by making
that criminal which was before innocent. I
recollect hearing an observation made by an innocent
man, who had been forced into the commission
of murder, by the erroneous system of education
pursued for the last six thousand years, which
made a great impression upon me, and gave the
first hint of my New View of Society.[4]
`Alas!'
said the unfortunate, or as the vulgar say, guilty
man—`alas! what an unlucky being am I. If
society had not thought proper to punish murder, I
might have passed for an innocent man.' By following
this train of reasoning we shall find that
the sole use of criminal law is to create criminals,
who are only so because the law capriciously inflicts
punishments upon certain acts which would
otherwise be perfectly innocent.
“The error of these wise lawgivers, is in
mistaking the real object and end of all laws.
intended as restraints upon the extravagant impulses
of the PASSIONS, those phantoms which like
all other phantoms had their origin in the ignorance
and bigotry of mankind, and which I have altogether
excluded from my New View of Society.
Now if religion and morality cannot prevent men
from committing crimes, what is the use of religion
and morality, or what is the use of laws to prop
up such a patchwork system? If one cannot
answer the end, all three together cannot do it. If
religious and moral impressions connot restrain
mankind from the commission of crime, then the
laws will not do it. If the stings of conscience, and
the fear of eternal punishment is insufficient; then
the fear of temporal punishment must be equally
so—therefore law and religion are entirely useless
in the world, and therefore I have banished them
entirely from my New View of Society. In fine,
my dear young pupils, be assured that crimes will
never cease in this world, till all punishments are
abolished, and mankind taught virtue by means
of an inveterate habit; by certain fixed and inflexible
rules, inherent as it were in the Man Machine,
like the laws of motion which govern the spinning
jenney, and from which it cannot depart, without
a dissolution of its parts, equivalent to the cessation
of motion called death, in the Man Machine.
“Yes, my dear pupils, nothing is wanting to restrain
these crying evils, and repair as far as possible
the miseries inflicted on the Man Machine for the
last six thousand years, by an absurd and erroneous
system of education, than an habitual, invariable, and
inflexible adherence to the sublime maxim, that
self-love properly understood and uniformly practised,
is the basis of all virtue, as well as happiness,
in the social state.[5]
Instead of burthening you
with abstract principles of right and wrong, which
have no other effect than to confound all distinctions
between virtue and vice, I shall merely advise
you, whenever you have any doubt on the subject
to consult your self-love, that is to say, in
other words, inquire what course will best conduce
to your own individual happiness, and depend upon
it, that will point unerringly to the happiness of
society. I will now dismiss you, the elder to the
instructive lessons of the steam engine and the spinning
jenney; the younger to the play ground, where
they will be taught all the duties of self-love, at
leap-frog and jackstones. Take notice, however,
I prohibit you all from playing at push-pin, a game
which, by giving rise to mischievous ideas of individual
property, may justly be denominated the
root of all evil.”
Unfortunately I was too old to be permitted to
learn all my social duties in the play ground, so I was
dismissed to the spinning jenney for a lesson. Here
as before, I worked so many hours in the day for
the benefit of productive labour, and the honour of
the New View of Society, that I had little leisure,
and less inclination, to trouble myself with nice distinctions
between the social and moral duties.
Indeed, I considered them as of little consequence
to the perfection of the Man Machine, recollecting
that nothing but self-love, properly regulated, was
necessary to the most perfect virtue and happiness.
Now I had as much self-love as most people, and
as my master had laid it down as the so very excellent
a thing, I thought as a matter of course, the
more I had, and the more I indulged it, the better
for myself and the world. I soon found, however,
there was little or no room for cultivating and
indulging this excellent fundamental principle of
happiness. I had a natural inclination for good
eating, and my self-love was always particularly
gratified, by playing with children somewhat
smaller than myself, over whom I could exercise a
reasonable degree of influence and authority.
This propensity to ambition, was, however, carefully
checked during the play hours, when we
were superintended by certain worthy old ladies,
who taught us, that the only ambition compatible
with a well regulated self-love, and the perfectibility
most advantageously for our master. As this was
a community of which the most perfect equality
was to be the basis; it would be highly improper,
they said, to attempt any undue exercise of talents
or energy. It would be only generating envy,
jealousy, and all those passions which had been the
bane of society, ever since the serpent seduced
Eve, with the temptation of superior knowledge.
As the whole system of our master-proceeded
upon the assumption, that the Man Machine was
as much without passions as a steam engine, and
that they were generated in him by the abominable
mode of education inflicted upon each succeeding
race, for the last six thousand years, he organized
the system accordingly. All the children, being of
course born without passions or desires, it was his
opinion that it was only necessary to tell them to
do right, and they would do it of course. We
were accordingly very seriously told, what all children,
so far as I know, have been told from the
creation of the world, “that we were never to
injure our play-fellows, but on the contrary to
contribute all in our power to make them happy.”
“This principle,” would our master say with infinite
self-complacency—“this principle, this simple
precept, when properly comprehended, if no Counteracting
Principles oppose its influence, will
hitherto kept the world in ignorance and misery.”[6]
But these “counteracting principles,” as our
master called them, and which I suspect were
nothing more than those passions which are supposed
by some ignorant people to be implanted in
human nature, were always getting between his
legs, as it were, and tripping up his theory. Emulation
was continually peeping forth, in one wicked
little rogue outrunning another, and thus mortifying
his feelings. In wrestling, the stronger machine
was very apt to impose upon the weaker, by throwing
it down with as little ceremony as possible.
At leap-frog, a mischievous urchin would sometimes
designedly bump a little fellow down on his nose,
by not leaping high enough. In short, these “counteracting
principles” were so troublesome and
inconvenient, that my master more than once
wished them fairly at the d—l, they stood so in
the way of the perfectibility of the Man Machine.
My master was indeed sometimes highly provoked
at these “counteracting principles,” thus eternally
thrusting their noses into his plan of perfectibility.
It puzzled him confoundedly to find where his theory
was out at the elbows. At last he discovered that
his children were not young enough to give his
children received those impressions which give a
decided direction to their future character, almost
the moment they are born. Nay, he went still
further, and maintained, with great appearance of
reason, that they took special notice of every thing
that happened at the time, he himself recollecting
perfectly well, being very much alarmed, when the
nurse first took him in her arms, least she should
let him fall on the floor.
Accordingly he determined to go to the fountain
head, by introducing into the establishment
the institution of matrimony, and having the children
begotten to his hands. “I shall take them
ab ovo,” said he, a phrase of which I have since
learned the meaning, although at that time I did
not exactly comprehend it. The first born of this
new and perfect race in perspective, was a little
boy, who from the moment of his birth was allowed
to hear nothing but the repetition of the
great precept, not to harm his play-fellows, but
to do all in his power to make them happy. At
three years old he was launched into the play
ground, and made his debut by biting the finger
of one of the matrons who presided over our
sports, and who attempted forcibly to keep him
from indulging the instinct of the Man Machine,
for dabbling in a mud-puddle. Our master cast
produced this enormity, that he might give it a
sound drubbing, and to his great satisfaction discovered
it in a habit, which the mother had a long
time indulged, of biting her nails. This practice
was strictly forbidden; but as one of the fundamental
principles of my master was, that no punishments
were necessary to keep the Man Machine
in order, any more than the steam engine,
nobody minded the prohibition, and the women bit
their nails, as usual, when vexed or perplexed.
Notwithstanding the all-powerful precept which
lays at the root of the perfectibility of the Man
Machine, and which was not spared upon the
little biting boy, there was some “counteracting
principle” which certainly baffled detection, or at
least opposition. By the time he was twelve
years old the machine became so completely out
of order, that my master turned him out of the
establishment as a disgrace to his theory.
Still the plan of inculcating perfection into the
Man Machine, by play, would certainly have answered
the end completely had it not been for
two “counteracting principles.” The first, was
those same inconvenient products of that erroneous
system of education pursued for the
last six thousand years, which my master called
circumstances, and which, coming perpetually
time pretty generally got the better, and routed
them completely. To subdue these entirely, or
to direct them uniformly to the furtherance of
that self-love, which is the source of all virtue
and happiness, was found rather of the nature of
an impossibility. The second “counteracting
principle” was, that the little pupils of the play
ground, by having their plays always prescribed
to them, and by being eternally under the eyes
of the superintending matrons, who were perpetually
telling them not to do this and to refrain
from that—who were in fact always standing over
them, repressing their gambols, directing their
sports and restraining entirely the free will of the
Man Machine, became at last entirely indifferent,
or rather frequently declined going out to play.
When they did, they preferred sitting quietly still,
rather than be perpetually restrained, lectured,
advised and dosed with the eternal repetition of
the grand precept. The consequence was, there
was no room for the practical exemplification of
the virtues of the system, at play. For my part,
although I was principally confined to the spinning
jenney for instruction, I freely confess that
such was the weariness of mind and lassitude of
body, produced by this mode of eternal supervision
over our hours of relaxation, that it became
by sleeping away my play hours. But notwithstanding
all these discouragements, the practicability
of the system ere long began to be fully
exemplified. There was one little machine that
was at last brought, if not quite, very nearly, to
perfection. Owing to the absence of those “counteracting
principles” which played the deuce with
most of the pupils, this little machine, at last
became so completely regulated, that my master
pronounced it almost as perfect as the machinery
of a cotton mill. If he had a task to do, he was
sure to do it exactly, and no more. If he was
told to go to a certain place, he could no more
be brought to go a step further than a horse in
a mill or a turnspit at the jack. He never discovered
any disposition to excel his companions
in their sports or their exercises—never did any
thing but what he was told—never committed an
offence—never resented an affront—but always appealed
to the golden rule. In short, he seemed
happily free from the operation of those mischievous
“counteracting principles,” erroneously called
the passions. If my master could only have made
us all exactly like him, we should have represented
the millennium. But unfortunately there were
as yet too many “counteracting principles” among
us, to admit of universal “HARMONY,” and the perfect
was a sort of butt, and instead of righting his own
wrongs, always carried his complaints to the matrons.
This got him the name of tell-tale, and the
ill will of his fellows. My master considered him
as a living evidence of the triumph of his system,
and at length when he grew up, made him
one of his “committee of management” or supreme
junta. In the course of his performance of the
duties of this new station, he one day had occasion
to walk to a neighbouring town, on his way to
which he met a wagon, and not having my master,
or one of the matrons, to tell him what to
do, suffered it to walk right over him, while he
was considering the matter. He was the first
perfect Man Machine I ever saw, and my master
ever afterwards held him up as an example.
I had now reached the age of eighteen; but I
must confess that my machinery was not a little
out of order. The perpetual routine of the same
employments—the want of those excitements, or
rather a field where the excitements of emulation,
ambition, desire of riches and distinction,
might bestir themselves, became at first irksome,
then stupifying. My faculties sunk into a benumbing
apathy, for want of exercise—and my personal
activity expired under the drudgery of the same
daily task, neither more or less, that I had to perform
Still I was fully persuaded that the system was practicable,
and that its operation would certainly produce
the perfection of the Man Machine, were it not for
the unlucky force of those “counteracting principles”
which beset it on every side. Nothing, I was
convinced, but those vile passions, which are not
natural, but absolutely forced upon us, by a preposterous
system of education for six thousand years
past, could possibly prevent its ultimate and final
consummation, in the perfection of the Man Machine.
But unfortunately these impertinent and troublesome
passions, are always nestling about one's
heart, and playing the most intolerable pranks with
our machinery. In process of time there grew up
some young girls in our establishment, and I was
moved with a desire to marry. There was, it is
true, the most perfect equality reigning among us,
together with a perfect community of interests.
But it unluckily happened that, owing to some
“counteracting principle” or other, the machinery
of some of these damsels was better constructed,
more highly finished, and somewhat more sightly
than that of others. There was one especially who
was so superior to the rest that she played the mischief
with my master's system of equality. All the
young fellows were anxious to marry her; and as
master's old enemies, the “counteracting principles,”
began to bestir themselves with great activity.
In vain he represented to us that it was only the mischievous
influence of these villains that made us
think one woman better than another—that it
was their equally villainous coadjutors, the five
senses, and the rest of the gang of countervailing
circumstances, that assisted in leading us to the preposterous
conclusion, that it was necessary to our
happiness we should marry this pretty girl. All
would not do—we quarrelled about it—fought
about it—and the machinery of the whole establishment
was at times thrown into great confusion.
My master's indefatigable enemies, the “counter-acting
principles,” were in fact continually at work,
throwing stumbling-blocks in the way of our perfectibility,
and going about like roaring lions among
us. It was enough to provoke a saint to see how
they succeeded for a time in thwarting the success
of my master's plans, for the harmony of the universe.
The great difficulty was to produce that
perfect state of equality which would preclude all
possibility of one machine envying another. Now
it happened unfortunately that this perfect equality,
and this perfect community of goods, which were
both so essential to the perfection of the system,
proved for a long time very difficult to preserve.
and renders the surface unequal, and the least “circumstance,”
was sufficient to create jealousies and
rivalships among us, until by degrees, we quietly
sunk into a calm acquiescence to the will of the
committee of management, and acquired a habit of
perfect submission, which is one of the principal
ingredients in the pure state of perfectibility.
It was thus in our community. Although their
rights and their duties were all equal—and all
equally shared in the common fund in proportion
to their labours; still, as those who had laboured in
the community ten years, had of course twice the
stake in the common fund of those who had only
laboured five, this single counteracting circumstance
produced a broad and palpable inequality.
Accordingly a lady whose husband had twice the
claim on the great fund, did not fail to look down
on one who had not a claim to half as much. She
valued herself on her fortune, just as if it had been
in her own possession, and for aught I could see,
the passions engendered by this species of inequality
were precisely those of the world, in the degraded
state it has been brought to, by the “erroneous
training”[7]
of the last six thousand years. Nay, I
malignant, from the parties being continually as it
were under the same roof, and brought together
many times a day, every day of their lives. But
even if this provoking inequality had not existed,
there were other “counteracting principles,” which
assailed the Man Machine, from different quarters,
and occasionally put it out of order.
It sometimes happened, that one member of the
community by the regularity of his machine, and by
being perhaps less beset by those intolerable rascals,
the “counteracting principles,” would by a
course of conduct as regular as clock-work, entitle
himself to the special notice and rewards of our
master. This approach to perfectibility in the
Man Machine, instead of operating as an example
and stimulus to others, as it would have done but
for the “counteracting principles,” produced only
disorder. Every body was jealous of the unfortunate
Man Machine who had approached so much nearer
to perfectibility than themselves—instead of imitating,
they envied him, not his perfectibility, but the
particular honours and rewards he acquired. To be
sure it is just so in the world, where the “counter-acting
principles” go about like roaring lions; but
it ought not to have been so in our new state of
society; and that it was so, is to me quite unaccountable.
I speak from my own experience. My ambition,
which I take to be one of the “counteracting principles,”
at length prompted me to put my machinery
in order, and make a dash at perfectibility,
that I might obtain the particular notice of my
master, and perhaps something more substantial.
I succeeded, and became the most miserable dog
in the community. I had upset the beautiful system
of equality, upon which the whole establishment
rested; I was no longer their equal, and they
began to envy, of course to hate me, by the mere
force of the “counteracting circumstances.” To
make my peace with these pragmatical machines,
and to restore the equilibrium of the society, I was
actually obliged to backslide a little in order to
bring myself down to the dead level of perfectibility.
Thus I found to my great mortification, that individual
perfectibility, was incompatible with the perfectibility
of the whole, and that the only way to
preserve “HARMONY” was to be no better than
other people.
The rascally “counteracting principles,” received
aid and assistance from other sources, besides
the inequality of wealth, and the different estimation
in which different persons were held by the
society at large, and especially by our master.
Some of the married women, had prettier children
than others—and this was a source of inequality.
envied their more happy next door neighbours,
whose pretty little curly pated machines, were
playing themselves into perfectibility on the lawn,
before their doors. On the other hand, some of the
men had better, younger, or prettier wives than others,
who not being specially instructed in such matters,
did frequently break the tenth commandment.
My master was, in truth, for a long while the victim
of “counteracting circumstances;” he at one time,
as I have heard, had serious thoughts of cutting off
all the women's noses, to bring them to a level, and
so organizing his men and women machines, by the
mere force of education, as that they should conform
to the law of nature which ordains, that every bird
shall lay only so many eggs within a certain period.
He had no doubt of bringing this about, if he could
only begin ab ovo, and dodge his old enemies the
“counteracting circumstances.”
But he was for some time deterred from this
plan by the astounding objection that, though he
might regulate the number of children, it would be
difficult, if not impossible, to regulate their looks,
and prevent one from being handsomer than another.
He had no doubt that nature produced none
of these ridiculous inconsistencies, but that they
were the offspring of that diabolical system of education
under which mankind had groaned for the
“are, it is true, handsomer than others—but then
the pig is sophisticated by associating with man,
and suffering under the influence of the counter-acting
circumstances. Doubtless all young wild
boars are perfectly equal in a state of nature. I
will inquire into these matters.” His inquiries
ended, I imagine, in conviction, for he attempted
some reforms in these matters; which caused so
much dissatisfaction among our women, that they
came near seceding in a body, and thus putting an
end to all prospect of the perfectibility of mankind.
My master accordingly gave up the point, satisfied
that though he might regulate the man machine to
some little purpose, the woman machine, was too
much under the influence of the “counteracting
principles,” ever to become perfect, without an
entire new organization.
Scarcely had this danger blown over, when a
dispute occurred, which again threatened the destruction
of our “HARMONY” and the prospective
perfectibility of mankind. This affair unfortunately
originated in too near an approach to the perfect
system of equality contemplated by my master.
There were two married women, living in opposite
sides of the square which formed our village, whose
circumstances, situation, husbands, children, characters
and persons were so singularly equal in all
no other reason that I could ever learn than because
their pretensions were so equally balanced,
that the rest of the community could never agree
as to which was entitled to be considered the most
happy. What was still more provoking, as there
were no reasonable grounds of quarrel between them,
and nothing to complain of, they were obliged to
take it out in civil speeches. In this state of affairs,
one of them luckily discovered, that her best
room fronted north, while that of her rival looked
to the south, and consequently monopolized all her
sunshine, great part of the year. Here was a manifest
hole in the elbows of my master's great system
of equality. There was no dividing the sunshine
equally among mankind. He might have
altered his village, so as to make the whole of it
front south: but his whole system so completely
hung on the shape of his village, that it would
have fallen to the ground, on the least hint of an
alteration. He was horribly puzzled by this counteracting
circumstance.
In the mean time, a northern and southern interest
sprung up among us, such as prevails in
some countries, and founded upon equally important
differences. The lady of the north front had
her faction, which held firmly to the principle,
that there was a manifest partiality in favour of
south front had also her friends, who swore roundly
that they could perceive a leaning in favour
of her of the north. Each had her party, whose
clamour was exactly loud in proportion to the insignificance
of the occasion, the few causes of excitement
among us, and the narrow sphere in
which they were exercised. In short, there was
the deuce to pay among the Men Machines, the
Women Machines, the first principles, and the
“counteracting circumstances,” which all pulled
different ways, so that my master hardly knew
which way to turn himself to get rid of these
implacable enemies. He was inclined to suspect
at one time, that it might be possible to shave the
chin of equality so close as actually to draw blood
from the patient, who, though his beard might be all
of equal length, might be himself in a humour to
knock him down. But he was not a man to knock
under to “counteracting circumstances,” nor any
such saucy fellows, while there was the remotest
prospect, to use his own words, “of making one
woman to do the work of twenty,”[8] “of improving
man as an instrument of labour,”[9] “and training
gain,” “a return not less than fifty per cent.,”[10]
on all the investments and expenditures for the improvement
of the Man Machine.
But these pestilent villains, the “counteracting
circumstances,” were not so easily managed as
might be expected. They had in the long period
of six thousand years, in which the Man Machine
has been debauched and corrupted by education,
insomuch that it is a thousand miracles
that his machinery is not irretrievably out of order—
I say, they had acquired such power, and withal
such a thorough knowledge of the Man Machine,
that as fast as they were driven out of one door
they popped in at another. Nay, if the doors
were all shut they climbed in at the window,
and if there was no window, they managed to
squeeze themselves through the keyhole. Thus
in the case of the two ladies of the northern and
southern exposure; my master had no sooner
quieted the two factions, by demonstrating that
to be out of the sun in summer, was equal to
being in it in winter, when the “counteracting
circumstances,” like vile traitors as they were,
changed sides before you could say Jack Robin
great quarrel, about which party would have been
in the right, provided the case had stood as they
originally apprehended. As to the two ladies,
they hated each other worse than ever, when they
found my master had decided there was not a toss
up of copper between them. “Marry come up,
my dirty cousin,” exclaimed each of the other—“I
should be very sorry if I was no better than I
should be.”
But I have not come to the worst yet. Not only
the wicked “counteracting principles,” played
pranks with my master, but it sometimes unluckily
happened that his own principles would turn upon
him, and show their teeth terribly. For example,
it was easy to comprehend the simple principle of
self-love, which, as I have said, constituted the great
primum mobile of the Man Machine, according to
my master's theory. But to apply it successfully to
the attainment of the great end of perfectibility
was a different affair. When the good man talked
to them about the absolute necessity of attending
exclusively “to the happiness of self,”[11]
as the only
means of promoting the happiness of the community,
they were extremely apt to comprehend this,
the bent of their passions and appetites, or in
other words, the “counteracting principles,”
without any regard to the happiness of others,
taking for granted that would come as a matter of
course. My master in vain attempted to set the
Man Machine going according to the nice adjustment
of the self-love and social principles. The
one was perpetually getting the better of the other,
being a hot-headed self-willed rascal, and withal a
great bully; while the other had hardly a word to
say for itself. It was in vain to threaten an appeal
to the laws, for as there was to be no crimes in our
community, there was no necessity for restraints or
punishments.
I will give an example here, of the terrible blunders
some of us made, in the application of this
grand fundamental principle of my master, whose
whole system, I am convinced, was perfect, except
that it was not calculated for the particular kind of
Men Machines, he had to do with. These have
been so bedeviled, by the horrible system of education
pursued for the last six thousand years, that
I question whether it will not take at least six
thousand years more, to put their machinery in perfect
order. But to my example.
There was among us, a wild, sprightly man machine,
which, owing to being as it were, under high
claws of the “counteracting principles,” and
making sad misapplications of my master's precepts.
It was next to impossible to bring his passions and
appetites under the dominion of metaphysicks, or
to instil into him a proper comprehension of the
great abstract truth, that the indulgence of our self-love,
consists in restraining it. One day my
master brought him up before us all, for the
purpose of lecturing him for the benefit of the
community.
“Well, Sandy,” quoth my master, mildly, “I am
afraid I shall never be able to make a perfect machine
of you.”
“How so, sir,” replied Sandy.
“Why, you are continually violating the sublime
fundamental principle of self-love.”
“I don't know how that can be, sir, for I do all I
can to gratify it, as you have convinced me it is my
duty to do.”
“Yes, but you did not properly comprehend me.
The self-love I mean, is the sacrifice of our wishes
and desires to those of others—it is in fact the
absence of all self-love.”
“Why did you not tell us so at first,” said Sandy,
rather sulkily—“I'm sure I should never have
thought that it was possible a thing could be exactly
what it is not.”
“That doubt is owing to the imperfection of our
sophisticated nature, which cannot comprehend the
sublime truth, that man is a machine, originally
constructed with a due regard to the two great
moving principles of matter, the centripetal and the
centrifugal forces. By the first, his passions, appetites,
wants, wishes, desires, and gratifications, are
perpetually urging towards the centre, thus exclusively
concentrating in his own individual gratification.
By the second, a continued endeavour is
made to resist and overpower the first, by forcing
or attracting the passions and appetites from this
disposition towards the centre or self, and giving
them a wider and more beneficial sphere of indulgence.
It is in the proper balancing and restraining
the centripetal force of the passions, by the
interposition of the centrifugal, that these, the gratification
of which is the grand object of self-love,
become the foundation of all worldly happiness,
and constitute the perfect state of the Man Machine.”
This confounding of matter and spirit, and
jumbling together the ideas of mechanical, physical
and moral action, was what always puzzled us, and
gave an air of incomprehensibility to my master's
theories. The Man Machine Sandy, was at
first either convinced, or confounded, I hardly know
which; but he soon rallied again, and to say the
common sense pretty nearly put my master to a
dead halt.
“You have exactly hit upon my case, sir, and the
very difficulty that prevents me from becoming a
perfect machine in the shortest time possible.
Somehow or other, I can't get this same centrifugal
force, my master talks of, to do its duty. It
is a lazy, lounging, indifferent principle, that is
half the time asleep while the other is as busy as
a bee, and some way or other, manages to get the
better nine times in ten. My good wishes, instead
of going abroad now and then, as they should do,
are almost always attracted to the centre by that
rascally centripetal gentleman you mentioned.”
“That is because you don't suffer my fundamental
principles to operate upon you properly;
and wilfully resist the natural and inevitable result
of a perfect system of education, which can be
nothing less than a perfect state of the Man Machine.”
“Indeed, sir, I don't—I try all I can to love myself
in the proper manner; and to be persuaded
that perfection is as easy as kiss your hand. But
somehow or other, I confess I do love Jenny better
than Kate—and the centripetal principle especially
moves my self-love to prefer kissing her, to
seeing any body else do it.”
“Out upon you,” exclaimed my master—“this
is all owing to the counteracting principles.”
“What are they, sir. I confess I never could
fairly understand them.”
“Why—hem—why—ha—he—hum”—my master
appeared a little puzzled here—“Why the counteracting
principles are a sort of—a kind of—
stumbling-blocks, which education, habit, and bad
systems have thrown in the way of the perfectibility
of man. In short, they are what I call—circumstances.”
“I reckon you mean the wants, desires, and passions
of us Men Machines,” quoth Sandy.
“And I reckon you are a great blockhead,” exclaimed
my master—“How often have I told you
that the Man Machine has naturally, neither wants,
desires or passions—They are the product of that
erroneous training which has produced all the
miseries and inconsistencies of this world.”
“What! no passions, sir?”
“None—not an atom more than a piece of calves-foot
jelly.”
“Why, Lord bless you, sir, I always heard say,
that if we had no passions, desires, and all that
sort of thing, we should be without any motives of
action whatever.”
“Pooh—self-love would keep us going.”
“But what is this self-love, sir?”
“A bundle of circumstances,” quoth my master.
“I reckon its a bundle of passions,” quoth
Sandy.
“And I reckon thou art a confirmed, incorrigible,
irreclaimable blockhead of a Man Machine,”
cried my master in a great passion—“I say, sir, may
the d—l take thee for a sophisticated idiot—I
affirm that man is born without passions—that there
are no such scoundrels in the creation—that they
are nothing but circumstances—circumstances, sir—
counteracting principles—counteracting principles,
sir—which an erroneous system of education has
conjured up to the confusion of all those who
labour for the perfectibility of the Man Machine.”
Hereupon my master seized Sandy by the shoulders,
and would have thrust him forth from the
community had he not offered to acknowledge the
supremacy of “circumstances,” to knock under to
the “counteracting principles,” and swear there
were no such villains as the passions in this world.
“After all,” quoth Sandy, a little doggedly—
“after all, thank fortune, I am not answerable
either for my opinions or my actions.”
“Not answerable!—I'll make you know to the
contrary, sirrah.”
“No, sir—you tell us every day that the will of
man has no power over his opinions, and that it is
therefore absurd to make him accountable for his
over their early education, which is conducted
uniformly upon mischievous principles—that they
are not only taught to think and reason wrong, but
actually to commit those crimes for which they
are afterwards punished—that, therefore, when they
grow up they cannot be justly charged either with
the errors of their opinions or the wickedness of
their actions.[12] I thank my stars, therefore, that
if I think or act wrong, my teachers are to blame,
not I.”
Here was the mischief to pay again among the
“counteracting principles,” which thus turned short
upon my master, and bit him shrewdly. His first
and great principle, that the errors and inconsistencies
of men proceeded entirely from an erroneous
system of education, and that they were
therefore not accountable for them, here did him
the worst office that could be. It convicted him,
in the sight of the whole community, of getting in
a passion contrary to fundamental principles, and
that the man who professed to teach perfectibility
was himself imperfect.
He might as well attempt, thought I, to teach
music without understanding the gamut. But
to the force of habit, and I still continued to
think my master a perfect Man Machine, although
the “counteracting principles” were sometimes
permitted to assail him, as Satan did Job, merely
to try his patience.
The Man Machine Sandy continued to exemplify
from time to time the influence of the centripetal
force, and the mischievous activity of the
counteracting principles. He was perpetually demonstrating
the notion of my master, concerning
the diabolical errors of an erroneous system of
education. But these errors being, according to his
theory, not his fault, but that of his parents who
were both dead, could not be punished without a terrible
perversion of justice. To compromise matters
as well as he could, my master at length dismissed
him into the wide world, where, as I afterwards
learned, the poor fellow, acting upon the principle
of not being accountable for his opinions or actions,
appropriated to himself certain bank notes that did
not belong to him, and was hanged in defiance of
all the rules of justice, as well as in utter disregard
to the sublime notion of a community of goods.
In the course of my master's experiments upon
the Man Machine, there were a great many machines
that left the establishment, or were turned
away for being too much under the influence of the
counteracting principles. They took with them
during their induction into the mysteries of
perfectibility; but somehow or other there were so
many deductions, for this, that and the other matter,
that the Men Machines complained loudly at the
smallness of their dividend. But there was no help
for it; for my master's system proceeded entirely
upon the principle, that as the Men Machines who
presided over this perfect establishment, must of
necessity be entirely and exclusively perfect in
themselves, there was no necessity to guard their
administration of the public fund, with that jealous
circumspection requisite towards less perfect rulers,
in a less perfect system.
Upon the whole, however, our community sustained
its numbers pretty well. The children that
were born, and the recruits that came in from time
to time, prevented any apparent diminution. For
my part I had no inclination to leave the establishment.
I had at last become a model, as my master
assured me, of a perfect Man Machine. I had
neither virtues to exercise, nor counteracting principles
to lead me astray. I worked my task as
regularly as the spinning jenney went through hers:
I ate like a machine, at a particular time—I slept
by rule, rose by rule, and did every thing by rule.
In short, I did every thing like a perfect machine of
a man. In process of time our whole community
also arrived at a perfectibility that was truly astonishing,
might be said that we had neither virtues nor vices,
at least there was neither room for the exercises of
the one, nor excitement for the indulgence of the
other. There is no doubt that we all became
quite perfect.
My master valued himself exceedingly at having
at last got completely the upper hand of his old
enemies, the counteracting circumstances. He had
not the least doubt but that his system would in a
little time be universally adopted, and that there
would then be no further use for law or gospel in
this perfect state of society. But of all the pieces
of machinery ever invented, the most wayward,
perverse, and inconsistent beyond all doubt is the
Man Machine. No sooner does it become perfect,
but it begins to decay, grows rickety and good for
nothing. At least so it was with the machinery of our
establishment. Our perfectibility at last centered
exclusively in the performance of our daily duties.
These consisted in working at our tasks regularly—
eating, drinking, sleeping regularly—and in fact
doing every thing we had to do with a regularity
becoming perfect machines. Every thing was in
common; therefore no one was in want; and therefore
there was no room for the exercise of charity
and benevolence. The children were all taken
care of by the community, and the aged and sick
were nursed and sustained by persons expressly ap
parent and child, were therefore of little consequence
among us, and were seldom or ever called
into exercise. In short, as the system of our society
was so perfect as not to require the cement of mutual
wants, mutual weaknesses, and mutual dependence,
there was no room, nor indeed any occasion,
for the exercise of the social virtues, except so far
as they are negatively exercised in refraining from
actual violence or injury.
Again, as the perfection of my master's system,
and of his Men Machines, consisted in the total
absence of the passions, or rather the annihilation
of the counteracting principles, it is obvious that this
could only be brought about by the absence of
those excitements which stimulate them into rebellion.
In removing these, it was requisite, or
rather it was unavoidable, that most if not all the
motives for any extraordinary exertion of talent, or
vigorous exercise of the intellect, should be wanting.
Our talents, therefore, as well as our virtues,
soon became rusty for want of exercise. Our
master and the committee of management,[13]
were
the only persons to whom the exercise of any but
the working faculty, was at all necessary. They
the laws, and they administered them. They took
care of our morals, our manners, and our money,
while we, thrice happy machines, had nothing to do
but move ourselves about, with all the regularity of
a spinning jenney—we worked by rule, ate by rule,
slept by rule, and were as merry as so many cabbages,
growing in regular lines. As the endeavour
to excel our companions, in any thing but work,
would have savoured of a design to overturn the
perfect system of equality, all such unseemly ambition
was studiously repressed as one of the mischievous
counteracting principles which it was
necessary to put down in the most summary manner.
As there was no such thing as exclusive property
in our community, and even a man's soul
could not be called his own, being under the exclusive
direction of my master's first principles—
the passion of avarice, or the desire of accumulation,
had certainly less influence over us, and we
worked solely for the good of the whole. It is true
we did not labour with that spirit and alacrity men
do when they are labouring for themselves, but from
a habit acquired by the machine, which went its
regular course day after day. But this, my master
considered as the highest proof of perfectibility,
which properly understood, consisted in
doing every thing necessary to the happiness
of the community not from a sense of duty
“It is much better,” would my master say,
“to do good from habit than impulse, sentiment,
or feeling, which are such capricious rascals they
can never be depended upon.” On the whole
there is no doubt but we actually became perfect
machines. We believed in all my master's first
principles—in the encouragement of crime for
the last six thousand years, by an erroneous system
of education—in the non-accountability of man for
his opinions or actions—in the wickedness of punishing
crimes—the division of labour—the community
of goods—the perfect equality, and above all,
in the committee of management. If this was not
perfection, I believe there is no such thing in this
world.
But scarcely had my master demonstrated the
great truths of the New View of Society, and made
his Men Machines quite perfect in their evolutions,
when his old enemies the counteracting principles,
rallied again, and became as troublesome as ever.
My master in a little time discovered, that though
it was quite easy to make the Men Machines perfect,
it was not quite so easy to keep them so. As
the inanimate machine becomes rickety, out of
order, and wears out in time, so does the animated
machine called man, continually give way to that
mischievous counteracting principle, called backsliding.
Scarcely therefore were the great counteracting
desire of knowledge, thus totally subdued, than the
lesser and more ignoble ones began to cut a figure,
like corporals and sergeant-majors, in the absence
of the commanding officers. The counteracting
principle of envy, the most grovelling, contemptible,
and at the same time, the most malignant,
began to erect itself, and to do the duty of half a
dozen others, in sowing the seeds of dissolution in
the perfect system of society. Experience, as I
sometimes thought, gradually developed a truth
that my master had left out in his catalogue of
counteracting circumstances, to wit, that it is utterly
impossible to place the Man Machine in any situation
where he is out of the reach of the “counteracting
principles.” On a desert island, said I,
mentally, in my moments of disappointment, where
no other human being exists, it actually seems that
he will envy his fellow men the enjoyment of social
intercourse, and the birds the wings that enable
them to go whither they will, while he is confined
to his solitude. Place him in a dungeon, and,
I dare say, he will envy others the enjoyment of air,
exercise, and free action. Place him in beggary,
and he will very likely envy the dog his bone—and
place him on a throne, he will envy the poorest
peasant his ruddy health and active limbs. Where-ever
there is inequality of any kind, there, as it
would seem, will envy subsist—and if it were possible
and mental qualities—in every species of
possession—in all that Providence can bestow
upon man, I could almost swear there would
still be the same necessity for the ten commandments
as the rules of our actions, and of laws
to enforce them, that there is at this moment.
Yet for all this you are not to suppose that I have
ever doubted, except in momentary intervals of
vexation or disappointment, the possibility of introducing
a universal state of perfectibility into this
world, provided it is not destroyed too soon to give
my master's first principles a fair chance of operating
upon the Men Machines. How long did mankind
go on patiently doing the work of steam engines
and spinning jenneys, until an inspired nobleman
suggested the idea of the one, and an inspired
barber demonstrated the possibility of the other?
Ages elapsed from the first suggestion of the application
of the power of steam to mechanical purposes,
and the application itself—and still other
ages, before the machine was perfected. Can we
then expect that the Man Machine, equally complicated
in its mechanical organization, will all at
once spring into perfection? No, my friends; as
the nice skill of the moulder labours whole days to
prepare for the perfect casting, so must the nice
skill of the reformer labour whole years, not to
say centuries, to produce the perfect man. Nothing,
the human machine, but the same labour and perseverance
which has perfected the steam engine and
cotton machinery, co-operating with the proper
application of “circmstances” and the absence of
the rascally “counteracting principles.” Then, gentlemen—then
there will be no further occasion for
laws or religion—punishments or rewards—potentates
or presidents,—the whole universe will be
governed by “A COMMITTEE OF MANAGEMENT,” of
which I expect to be treasurer, and then—
“The cow jumped over the moon”—
about till he came nigh oversetting the bowl, and
putting an end to the perfectibility of man at once.
It was some time before he recovered his gravity
sufficiently to proceed, as follows:—
But however this may be, I must confess that
besides the little malignant counteracting principle
of envy, which is ever the substitute of emulation
and ambition, there were certain other “circumstances,”
as my master called them, such as those
unnaturally natural appetites, or instincts, which,
however trifling and contemptible, like rats and
mice on board a ship, often endangered his whole
system. These were perpetually thrusting themselves
forward in the disguise of a preference of
blue eyes to black—of youth to age—of fair to
brown, and of brown to fair. Sometimes two machines
would agree in their preferences, and this
agreement at once gave play to a whole train
of counteracting circumstances, which caused my
master infinite trouble and vexation. At other
times two machines would differ about what my
master in his New View of Society, had expressly
stipulated there should be no difference about.
For instance, one was a presbyterian, another an
episcopalian, and another had no religion at all.
This was sufficient for argument, which on such
subjects generally becomes contention, and often
abuse. In the great and good-for-nothing old system
of society which subsists in the world, where the excitements
to the passions are divided and subdivided
almost to infinity, such disputes are easily forgotten
and forgiven, except among those whose interest
it is to keep up the antipathy of sects. But
in our community, we had so few causes of
excitement, that one answered the end of the
whole, and seemed to concentrate within itself
the fury of all the passions. No matter therefore
what was the cause, however insignificant, it
produced the same effects. The perfect Man Machine
who saw his neighbour machine receive
particular notice or approbation from my master,
envied as bitterly as the courtier who sees his rival
master lectured away, on the sublime principle
of self-love, but it all would not do. That incomprehensible
scoundrel, human nature, seemed
to set his face against him; and it happened
too often that the man of nature, aided by the
rascally counteracting circumstances, got the better
of the Man Machine and caused him to backslide
exceedingly.
But my master did not despair, for amidst all these
discouraging circumstances, the common fund increased,
and the committee of management had
every year a larger amount of property to manage—
for the community. But for my part, I began to be
discouraged—not that the reflections I have just
now made, occurred to me at that time; they are
the product of succeeding experience in the great
world. I firmly believed, and believe still, that
the fault of all this was not in my master's system,
but in human nature, that is to say, human
nature debased and corrupted by six thousand
years of “erroneous training,” as my master called
it.
“Rome was not built in a day,” said my master
one time—“and a system of six thousand years
can only be completely routed by a counteracting
system of equal duration. I shall not live to
see it—but it will certainly happen; if my system
is pursued six thousand years it will become
who knows after all what may happen? Who
knows but the moral perfectibility may bring about
the mechanical perfectibility of the Man Machine.
If my system can only prevent, as I have proved
it can, for a time, the commission of all sin, then
of course there will be no necessity for future rewards
and punishments, and as a natural consequence
no necessity for a man to die. Who
knows but I may live long enough to see the
millennium? It is only applying the principle of
perpetual motion to the Man Machine.”
My master was highly delighted with this new
light, and went on with new hopes and spirits.
He was quite sure his Men Machines had
been perfect, at least for an hour or two, and
though they had afterwards got a little out of order
he had fairly established his principle, that they
were susceptible of absolute perfectibility. All
therefore that was necessary was to make this
perfectibility everlasting, and this could only be
done by operating upon a long succession of generations
of Men Machines. So he held faster to
his system than ever, and so did I. Indeed I had
no doubt that each succeeding race of our community,
provided they were properly trained, and
the counteracting principles could be kept down,
would approach nearer and nearer to the perfect
state, and at length reach it permanently at last.
that in the course of three or four centuries,
at farthest, our surplus fund would increase to such
an extent as to enable my master, if he lived so
long, to purchase all the land in the kingdom, and
thus make perfect Men Machines of all my countrymen
by actually buying them up as we do other
machinery.
But alas!—one of my master's old and desperate
enemies, was destined, by that envious Providence
which, as it would seem, could not bear
to see a vile system which it had permitted to exist
for six thousand years, routed by his New View of
Society, to destroy all my anticipations in the bud.
My master had unaccountably forgot, that in order
to make his system complete, it was necessary that
the rulers as well as the people should be equally
perfect. A reciprocity of perfection was indispensable.
But here my master's system was terribly
out at the elbows, and presented a signal example
of the extreme difficulty of introducing perfection
into this world, or in other words, of reconciling
impossibilities. It is obvious that the Men Machines,
having the management of the surplus
fund—the buying and selling—in fact, every thing
connected with the pecuniary affairs of the community,
must of necessity mix with the world and
become acquainted with the value of money, the
arts of bargaining, and other matters indispensable
would therefore be assailed not only by the bad
examples of people educated in that “erroneous
system” which has prevailed for six thousand
years, but also by all those temptations, or “counteracting
principles,” which constitute what are
called the seductions of the great world. It is
hardly possible, therefore, but that their machinery
should get more or less out of order, and they themselves
backslide from the summit of perfectibility.
Thus it happened that the treasurer of our
establishment, who, at the time of his election, was
considered the most perfect Man Machine amongst
us, being assailed by the “counteracting principle”
called a love of money, and by the other
“counteracting principle,” the desire of appropriating
other people's property to his own use,
played us all a saucy trick. He fell from grace
—his machinery got terribly out of order; and
he backslided into a far country with nearly the
whole proceeds of the surplus fund we had been
labouring to accumulate for years. The committee
of management ran after the treasurer—
my master ran after the committee, and we were
left alone like so many babes howling in the wilderness.
Having been so long in leading strings,
not one of us could walk alone, and it became
sufficiently evident that after all, the perfectibility
of the system entirely depended, not upon our
committee, and a runaway reformer. From the
mere force of habit our machinery continued to
perform its task—to eat and sleep, to rise in the
morning and lie down at night—but the rest was
all a vacuum—a blank—a state of absolute perfectibility,
produced by a state of stagnation.
In process of time my master, who was perfectly
innocent of all participation in the fraud
of that infamous Man Machine, the treasurer,
except in so far as he had not sufficiently provided
against the influence of the “counteracting circumstances,”
returned from an unsuccessful pursuit
of many hundred miles. We had now the
world to begin again. But to say the truth, perfectibility
is such a horrid dull thing, and there
was such a want, a total absence of the charm of
variety in our lives and occupations, that for some
time past a great portion of our community had
hung loose upon the establishment. It was only
the cement of the “surplus fund,” that kept them
together, and that being gone they longed like
children, for such in fact they were in knowledge
of the world, to go forth and see its distant wonders.
In one word, they sighed for that freedom
of will, that release from eternal restraint—eternal
supervision—and eternal monotony, which they
were obliged to submit to, in order to arrive at
perfection. The idea of freedom was so exquisitely
grateful, that they forgot their losses, and in a
and the logic of his New View of Society which he
read over to them six times, they flew away like
gay birds in all directions, leaving him a disconsolate
teacher without any scholars, but myself, and
a few of the lame, blind and incapable of the community
who were left behind. The ties of kindred
and the feelings of humanity had, in truth, been
very much weakened for want of exercise in our
establishment, if they were not entirely left out in
the march to perfectibility. What became of the
grown up children, thus putting themselves upon
their country, destitute of the habits and experience
necessary to self-government, security, nay,
existence in the wide world, I know not to a certainty.
I have heard that many of them were
wrecked upon the unknown coast of the world, and
that the remainder, during a great part of their
lives, were indebted for support, to that society
which they had deserted, in pursuit of perfection.
My business is not however with them. I am to
relate my own story, which will exemplify the
situation of human beings, such as it would in all
probability be in the event of the ill success of
my master's great plan, and the consequent necessity
of their again mixing with the world as it is,
with the obligation of obeying its laws, conforming
to its institutions and fulfilling its duties.
I continued with my master some time after the
backsliding of the treasurer, and the dispersion of
I could not help liking him for the trouble he took
to make the world perfect. Besides, as the
apostate Man Machine of a treasurer could not
run away with the village, the land and the improvements,
our establishment was not altogether
ruined, and recruits begun to flock in from time to
time. It would seem indeed that whatever may
be the situation of a man, good, bad, or indifferent,
there will always be found some one to occupy it
the moment it is vacant. Be this as it may, my
master railed more than ever against the “erroneous
system” of education pursued for the last six
thousand years, and I verily believe would actually
have hung up the “counteracting principles” in a
row, could he have fairly got them in his clutches,
notwithstanding his opinion of the injustice of all
punishments.
We used to hold conversations together, and
my master, who had great confidence in the perfection
of my machinery, frequently consulted
me on the subject of either converting these
vile counteracting principles to his own notions,
or exterminating them entirely. On one of these
occasions, I thought I would bring him fairly to
the point, by asking what he meant exactly by
these counteracting principles, which seemed to be
always in his way.
“To tell you the truth, sir,” said I, “although
my corporeal Man Machine is perfect, so far as
respects its being entirely and exclusively governed,
directed, set going and stopped, by the great principle
called the force of habit, whereby the mischievous
influence of the passions is entirely obviated;
yet I fear that I am not equally perfect in
my comprehension. I confess, sir, I have never
yet been able to understand exactly which you
mean by the counteracting principles. I have no
doubt they are a set of diabolical rascals, but I
should like to have so particular a description that
I might know them half a mile off, and get out of
the way when I saw them coming.”
“What I mean,” replied he, after some considerable
pause—“what I mean by the `counter-acting
principles,' or `the force of circumstances,'
is, all those vices, follies, inconsistencies, absurdities,
habits, principles, and feelings, which an
erroneous system of education for the last six thousand
years has implanted in the human race, so as
to change, as it were, their very natures, making
them almost unsusceptible of perfectibility, and
it would seem, incapable of remaining perfect
when I have made them so. O! if I could only
get rid of these, what a world I would make
of it—there would be no use in a better, I promise
you.”
I was just as far off as before, and went on.
“May I ask, sir, what you mean by an erroneous
system of education?”
“A system which counteracts human nature,
sir.”
“But how, sir?—You have always told us that
human nature is nothing but a bit of wax, on
which any impression may be made, if taken while
it is soft. It seems to me, though I know I am
mistaken, that there can be no such thing as human
nature, and therefore that it cannot be counteracted
by an erroneous system of education.”
“Right, sir—right—human nature is an absurdity,
a non-entity—a—a—in short, man is nothing but
a machine, and his nature, or the first principle of
his existence, nothing more than the force of an
innate—an innate—an—a—law of matter like that
which causes the wheel to go in a circle, and the
runner in a horizontal line.”
“But it has often puzzled me, sir, why—if
human nature is a mere machine with its one
inflexible law of action like that of a wheel—why
you should take so much trouble to make it go
better. But after all, sir, I don't see how this explains
the counteracting principles.”
“Look'e, sir,” said my master, who was so well
satisfied with the truth of his theory that he never
would allow any body to question it, without growing
rather sore—“Look'e, sir—the counteracting principle
is implanted in the Man Machine by an erroneous
system of education; and the force of circumstances
is nothing more than the temptations thrown into
his way by this erroneous system.”
“As how, sir?”
“By the counteracting principles, sir.”
“I believe I am very stupid, sir—but really I
do not even yet comprehend these principles.
What are they?”
My master began to redden.
“Why, sir—if I must take the trouble to answer
your impertinent questions, sir, I tell you—that
avarice, lust, ambition, envy, malice and revenge,
are what I call the counteracting principles.”
“O! I understand now—what we used to call
the passions.”
“The passions!—'tis false, sir—they are not
what we used to call the passions—the passions are
phantoms—they have no existence except in the
brain of stupidity—they are the infamous incestuous
product of the vile system of education pursued
for the last six thousand years. There is no such
thing as passion—or I say, there should not, and
there would not, be such a thing, if it were not for
the rascally counteracting principles—you are a
blockhead, sir—and may go—where you please.”
“It may be—but I am a perfect machine for all
that—nobody shall convince me to the contrary.”
“You are a perfect ass,” said my master, turning
his back upon me in great wrath—“you are a
perfect ass—and the machinery of your upper
works is not worth a tobacco-stopper. I wonder
how I could make a tolerable cotton spinner of
you.”
This attack upon my perfectibility, nettled me a
good deal; neither was I quite satisfied with my
master's definition of the counteracting principles.
I began to hang rather loose upon the establishment;
but am not sure I should have left it, but for
a “circumstance,” which I consider the most unlucky
that ever happened to me in my whole life.
It is time to remind you that I had once a father,
mother, brothers and sisters. The pursuit of perfectibility,
with other important matters, has hitherto
prevented my telling you that I lost them all,
one after the other, in the course of a few years.
My father—but I will not expose him—he died.
My mother did not long survive; and my poor little
brothers and sisters dropt one after another, into
that yawning tomb prepared for their reception by
the glorious champions of productive labour. They
withered like so many poor ignoble little flowers,
shut out from air and sunshine—they waxed pale,
sickly, and yellow—they became stinted in growth,
dry, flimsy, inactive—and at last incapable. One
after another they died away, as it were of no
other disease than that of the spinning jenney.
eyes, although it was so long ago; but their fate at the
time made but little impression. I was too busy
attending upon the evolutions of the ever turning
wheel, the sole object of my earthly contemplations.
From long watching the eternal round of
the spinning jenney, its action became so impressed
on the pupil of my eyes, and its buzzing noise upon
the drum of my ear, that present or absent, sleeping
or waking, my brain retained no other image,
and bore no other impress but that. The wheel
was perpetually dancing before me; and as a man
after looking at the bright sun in the firmament,
for a few moments, sees when he withdraws his
eyes a thousand orbs dancing before him, so did I
a thousand spinning jenneys. It was thus that my
natural feelings and nicer perceptions, died away
for want of exercise, and when I saw myself alone
in the world, by the death of all my family, I
tried to be sorry, but could comprehend nothing
distinctly but the spinning jenney.
About the time my master insulted me for not
properly comprehending the counteracting circumstances,
and while I felt a little sore on the subject,
one of these diabolical villains was let loose upon
me before I was aware of it. News was brought
me that a person possessing a good estate in a distant
part of the country, had died intestate, and
that after minute investigation it was found I was
therefore regularly summoned to take possession.
Here was a “counteracting circumstance,” as my
master called it, enough to make one's hair stand
on end—turn his whole New View of Society
wrong side outwards, and destroy the perfectibility
of man.
My views, perceptions, and opinions were for a
time changed, as if by magic. When I had nothing
I was a great admirer of a community of
goods—now I was rich I turned up my nose at the
very idea of such an odd ridiculous notion, and
argued with my master on the subject with a degree
of independence at which he was quite astonished.
I offered to bet him a round sum to back my
opinions, and this was better than all his first principles
put together. My master proposed to make
me treasurer, but as there was no common fund,
but what I might contribute, I resisted the tempting
offer of being allowed to take care of my own
money, manfully. In an evil hour, I determined to
give up all the delights of perfectibility—to yield
to the force of the counteracting circumstance—
to follow the bent of the enlarged principle of social
self-love, and return to the great world again, to set
a good example and reform its abuses. Before I
went, I resigned my portion of the village, the land
and its improvements, to the remnant of the community
that had laboured with me, after which I
of I knew not what. I remember the first thing
that alarmed me in my debut, was seeing two pigs
fighting, an atrocity which none of the orderly swine
brought up under the New View of Society ever
were guilty of while in a perfect state. They are
terribly under the influence of the counteracting
principles, said I, to a person who happened to be
near.
“Of what?” said he, turning quick upon me.
“Of the counteracting principles,” said I.
“They are under the influence of passion,”
said he.
“My dear sir, there are no such things as the
passions—they are nothing but circumstances.”
“Who told you so?” replied he, eyeing me with
a queer look, half surprised and half angry.
“My master—he can prove to you, by his precepts,
if not by his example, that there are no such
things in his New View of Society, as passions.
They are nothing but circumstances and counteracting
principles, as I said before.”
“Tut,” replied he—“'tis only a new name for
an old thing—your master, whoever he is, may
call black white, or white black, yet that won't
alter the colour.”
“I see you have never read the New View of
Society—you are suffering all the evils, miseries
and inconsistencies of that abominable system of
the last six thousand years. You have `been
taught crime from your youth,' as my master says,
and I dare affirm, will one day be unjustly subjected
to punishment for those very offences which
it was impossible you should not commit.”
“Abominable system of education! Taught
crime from my youth! Punished for offences it
was impossible I should not commit! What do
you mean, sir?” cried he, in a passion.
“I mean,” said I, with perfect politeness—
“I mean that it is more than an equal chance
that you will one day be hanged by the mere
`force of circumstances'—as my master says.”
Upon this the imperfect Man Machine unluckily
gave way to the rascally counteracting principles,
and came forward with an evident intention to
knock me down.
“I'll teach you to throw out reflections upon
me”—
“My dear Man Machine—I meant no reflection,
—none in the world—if you should happen to be
hanged it will not be your fault—it will be the
fault of your education, for which you are no more
accountable than for your subsequent actions. If
any body deserves to be hanged, it is your father
and mother, who brought you up in a profound
ignorance of the `counteracting principles,' and
social happiness.”
“My good friend,” replied he, in a tone of contempt—“you
are either a fool or a madman—I
can't tell which.”
“I am a philosopher.”
“The difference is not much now-a-days,”
quoth he—and coolly turned away.
As I proceeded on my way to take possession of
my estate, I every moment discovered that I had got
into a new world, where I was a fish out of water.
Every thing seemed at sixes and sevens—and there
was a horrible freedom of will and of action that
kept me in perpetual trepidation—neither man
nor beast seemed to pay the least attention to
the sublime precepts of the New View of Society.
In our establishment there was a perfect equality
—except that no person was permitted to have a
voice in choosing the committee of management,
unless he was worth a hundred pounds.[14]
There
was also a perfect freedom of action—except
that the committee regulated the employment of
every member “consistently with the public
good.”[15]
In short, there was a regularity—a
beautiful monotony, like the ticking of a clock,
and children—pigs, ducks, geese and chickens—hogs,
dogs, horses, cows, oxen, sheep and
asses—there seemed scarcely any perceptible difference
between them—the instinct of the one
seemed quite equal to the reason of the other—
and if there was any difference, it was in favour
of honest instinct. The committee of management
constituted the great moving principle,
which set the whole machinery of the establishment
going—they were the steam to the engine.
I should do injustice to one of the most perfect
machines I ever saw, if I neglected to mention in
this place, a most sagacious donkey, whose special
vocation it was to carry water. He would go to
the well and return with his load as regularly as a
Man Machine, and that too without a driver. But
no reasoning, no violence, no first principles, could
make him go one step beyond the well, or carry a
single load after the hour of twelve. He knew as
well as any Man Machine, when the clock struck
twelve, and whenever it was attempted to make
him take another trip to the well, the “counteracting
principle” became invincible. What more
could we expect from your boasted rational animals?
But the world into which I had got, was a melancholy
contrast to this perfect system. Every
man seemed to be actually in some measure governed,
every man took his own way. Every one chose
his own occupation, without consulting, or being
directed by a committee of management, which by
relieving the community from the labour of thinking
for itself, leaves every one at full liberty to
do nothing—but labour for the joint benefit of
others. As with the biped so with the quadruped
machines. Not one of them seemed to know its
place as in my master's establishment; each rambled
and fed, apparently where it liked, and so it
performed its appropriate task, or answered its destined
end, was allowed every other species of freedom.
The worst of it was, that though I could not
help pitying and despising all of them in a lump, I
was provoked to see them look a hundred times
happier and more sprightly than my master's two
legged, and four legged machines. The men whistled
and the women sung at their work—the little
children laughed and shouted in a most unseemly
manner amid their unregulated gambols, where
they sometimes fought and squabbled horribly.
Their happiness was unaccountable—and could
only proceed from an utter ignorance of my master's
New View of Society. If they could only
read that, thought I, they would go near to destroy
themselves. The poor creatures little anticipated,
that probably two thirds of them would live to be
hanged or otherwise punished, only for committing
system of education inflicted on mankind for the
last six thousand years. But the greatest enormity
I saw, was an ox who seemed so particularly
delighted with the liberty he enjoyed of doing as he
pleased for a little while, that he actually cut a caper
that would have scandalized all the sober machines
of my master's establishment. I could not
help drawing a contrast between the gaiety I now
saw, and the philosophic ennui, which at all times
displayed itself in our establishment, and which increased
with every advance to perfection.
These impressions and reflections, however insensibly,
gave place to others, as I gradually approached
towards my new home, where I at length arrived
without any material accident. It was a retired
spot, in a remote county—pleasantly situated, and
within two miles of a little town. The old servants
of the late owner received me with attentive respect,
and conducted me to a room where dinner
was served up in handsome style. I asked them if
they had dined, and on their replying in the negative,
invited them to sit down with me. They at
first thought I was joking—but on my peremptorily
insisting upon it, they sat down with awkward embarrassment.
It was plain to me they never had read
the New View of Society—and knew nothing of
the community of goods—the perfect equality—the
incapacity of the Man Machine to govern his opinions
of the last six thousand years—the divine impulse
or circumstance of self-love, and the counteracting
principles. Here was a fine field for the application
of my master's theory.
I resolved to lose no time, and as soon as dinner
was over, began by laying down the first principles
of the New View. I taught them that man was a
machine, and might be governed like all other
pieces of machinery—that as men were taught
crime by the very education they received, there
was no necessity nor even justice in inflicting punishment—that
from the beginning of the world to
the present time, all men had been erroneously
trained, and hence all the inconsistencies and
misery of mankind—that a man's will has no control
over his opinions nor his actions, so far as they
are influenced by those opinions—that as all crimes
originated in an erroneous education over which
we had no control, we could not be justly accountable
for them, either in the sight of God or
man—that self-love was the prime source of all
virtue and happiness—that man was a machine
having naturally no passions but what are instilled
into him by an abominable system of education—
that he is capable of perfectibility—and that
nothing stands in the way of it but the rascally
counteracting principles. These doctrines I repeated
every day, until my people got them by
the form of a catechism, which I heard every
Sunday, instead of sending them to church to hear
the parson “dogmatize.” I put in force a number
of my master's regulations, and adopted his system
in all its material parts, having no doubt that in a
reasonable time, I should produce a great reform in
my household. And so I should without doubt, but
for my master's old enemies, some of whom followed
me into my retirement, and were as busy
as ever in counteracting our plans for the perfectibility
of the Man Machine.
My establishment consisted of an old house-keeper,
with whom I had more trouble than with
all the rest put together. She had long reigned
mistress, and master too, of the house—for I have
been credibly informed, that my predecessor, an
old bachelor, was more afraid of her than my master
was of the counteracting principles. Indeed,
my experience has long since taught me, that it is
no way of escaping the tyranny of the sex to remain
single. I never yet saw an old bachelor
that was not sooner or later most awfully henpecked
by some bitter old, or sweet young housekeeper,
nurse, cook, or bed-maker. Mistress Jeannie, as
she was called, was one of the very pillars of aristocracy.
She could not bear the sight of your
“ruff scruff,” as she called them, and disliked your
poor people inordinately. The pedigrees of all
times better than at the herald's office, and Lyon,
King at Arms, was a fool to her in genealogy. You
could tell the antiquity of a family by the courtesy
she made to its representative at church. In
short she had been used to the exercise of power;
and held herself considerably above the majority
around her—two of the great counteracting principles
in the way of reform. It will always be
found, I fear, that the desire, or the abhorrence of
a system of equality, entirely depends upon the
question, whether it will raise or depress us in the
scale of society.
The other members of my establishment, were a
steward, or manager, a shrewd, wary Scotsman, of
whom it was said that he paid much attention to
the affairs of his master, and much more to his
own. He was supposed to be considerably under
the influence of the counteracting principles—
something of a hypocrite, and a little more of a
rogue. His name was Macnab, and he prided himself
upon what he was pleased to call his Celtic
origin. There was a footman, a coachman, stable
boy, and one or two others of miscellaneous occupation,
together with two maids, one of whom was
no beauty, and the other had as much vanity and
affectation as a dutchess of three tails. Rather
unpromising machines for perfectibility, thought I—
but what of that? I have no doubt, as my master
or to the world at large, by means which
are at the command of those who influence human
affairs.[16]
Much to my satisfaction, I discovered in a little
time, that my people glided with perfect ease into the
New System of Society, so far as respected their intercourse
with me. They set down at meals at the
same table with me, and so far from displaying any
awkward embarrassment, or making any sacrifices
of appetite in consideration of my authority, they
made a point of helping themselves to the choice
bits on all occasions. This was promising, and I
had little doubt of ultimate success, when all at
once the villainous counteracting principles made
their appearance, and hatched a plot against me
that had well nigh overturned my New System.
The first was the counteracting principle of
insubordination. My steward, the Celtic Macnab,
began to demur most sturdily to my directions—
insisting that as we were upon a perfect equality,
in all other respects, he, as the person that had
most experience in these matters, ought to have
the sole superintendence of the agricultural part
of the system. On my demurring to this, he
turned away without ceremony, muttering some
and machinery. He then went to honest Murdoch
the ploughman, a brave Kilkenny boy as ever
broke heads for amusement, and directed him to
plow a certain field for the purpose of planting
ruta baga.
“Ruta what?” quoth Murdoch.
“Turnips,” said Macnab.
“The divil burn such articles as turnips, say I.”
“But you must plant them for all that.”
“Must—must, did you say? That for you Macnab,”
cried Murdoch, snapping his fingers—“there
is no must here in the New Jerusalem. Turnips!
—faugh!—would you set an Irishman planting turnips
when there is such a ting as the beautiful patate,
in the land of the living. Divil burn me Macnab,
if I plant a turnip if you christen them by the
name of the best saint in the calendar.”
“But I say you must and shall—an't I the manager?
You forget yourself, Mr. Murdoch.”
“Faith, Macnab, you're out there—I'm just
beginning to remember myself. You manager!—
take notice, ye old Celtic dried up mushroom, there
is to be no manager or management here—our
master—that is to say, our instructor, for all other
master's I disdain—has satisfied me that we have
nothing to do with making our own opinions—now
my opinion is decidedly in favour of planting patatees—and
if I am wrong you will please put it down
ye old worn out Man Machine,” cried Murdoch,
throwing up his hat—“huzza for patatees!”
“I say turnips,” vociferated Macnab.
“And I say patatees,” vociferated Murdoch.
“If I plant any thing but patatees, may they rise up
and ate me, instead of my ating them.”
Macnab was on the point of referring the matter
to me, when he recollected that this would be acknowledging
my authority. So he gave up to Murdoch,
who planted his potatoes in triumph.
One day I desired my coachman to get up the
horses, for a ride to the neighbouring village. But
he declined the motion, observing that the principle
of self-love, which I had convinced him was the
groundwork of all happiness, prompted him to go
in the carriage himself, having made a party with
the pretty chambermaid to the fair. Accordingly,
he went to the stables and ordered out the horses.
The stable boy demurred; it appears he also had
made a party to the fair, and would not give up
to the coachman. The counteracting principles
waxed warm within them—they incontinently fell
together by the ears, and battered each other till
the Man Machine was terribly disarranged.
The inside of my house was in a worse state if
possible, than the outside. There was the mischief to
pay among the Women Machines. The authority
of the old housekeeper fell to the ground—and her
assailed by the whole force of the New View of Society.
The Women Machines in fact carried my
master's first principles to such an extreme that
they actually degenerated into the counteracting
principles, and went over to the enemy. The principle
of perfect equality, in their hands became
self-willed disobedience—the principle of a community
of goods, became the counteracting principle
of helping themselves to whatever they wanted
—and the great fundamental principle of self-love
became anti-social, by the prevalence of my master's
grand counteracting principle of the centripetal
attraction. In short, there was one eternal
squabble in the house, and poor Jeannie, who had
never throughly come over to the principle of universal
equality in all things, almost fell a victim to
the sublime doctrine of perfectibility. Half the
time I had no dinner cooked, and was obliged to lie
in an unmade bed, owing to the predominating influence
of the counteracting principles.
“O! man, man!” I sometimes exclaimed in
despair—and more emphatically—“O! woman,
woman!—after all I fear that thou art nothing but
a bundle of counteracting principles. But perseverance
does wonders. My master certainly
made Men Machines perfect at one time—I will
not despair.”
With this resolution I set about a reform, as
speedily as possible, for to say the truth, I found
that if we went on in this way much longer, I should
be obliged either to take up money or starve. Saving
honest Murdoch's potatoes, our crop this year
was nothing. It really appeared, that owing to some
misunderstanding or misapplication of my master's
first principles, that his perfect system of equality,
resulted in making every body dependent exclusively
upon the person whose duty it was to perform
the particular office required. Thus I was
entirely at the mercy of my cook for a dinner—
my coachman for a ride—and my housemaids for a
new-made bed. This I was satisfied must be the
work of the counteracting principles. I will set
about counteracting them forthwith.
I called these refractory Machines together and
lectured them on the spirit of insubordination,
paying at the same time proper respect to the
principle of equality. I told them that equality
was, after all, not the entire absence of every species
of inequality, but such an equality as was
consistent with a due spirit of subordination—that
a community of goods, did not mean the right of
helping ourselves to just what we wanted—that
the sublime principle of self-love, was not the love
of self, but of society—and that the idea of a man
not being accountable for his opinions and actions,
only meant to apply to those opinions he might
a due regard to the laws and customs of society.
“Och murder,” roared Murdoch—“Och murder
and Irish—our teacher has gone over to the
counteracting principles. Divil burn the New
System of Society, say I; it is nothing but the old
one in disguise after all.”
Here it will be perceived that the counteracting
principles carried the Man Machine, Murdoch,
from one extreme to the other. The moment I
talked to him of restraining one of my master's
first principles, he and all the rest of them immediately
protested that I abandoned my whole system.
I was almost tempted to believe that if man
was a machine, it must be a pendulum, which
never stops, except at extremes, until it ceases
its motion entirely.
Thus it happened with the machines of my establishment.
I could never get them to stop at the
right place. The villanous counteracting principles,
were always tugging at the skirts of the men,
and the petticoats of the women, now pulling them
over the line this way, and now that, from one side
to the other, to the total disarrangement of my
plans, and the downfall of perfectibility. As I
proceeded to qualify the application of my master's
great fundamental principles, they all help up their
hands, and raised their voices against such unheard
of restraints in a perfect system of society.
“Arrah!” exclaimed orator Murdoch—“here's a
pretty kettle of fresh fish all turned salt. Here's
a pretty attack on the perfectibility of man.
Here's splitting of hairs and philosophising people
out of their liberty. I'm for none of his wishey-washey,
half-and-half equality, and community.
Neck or nothing with Murdoch. By St. Patrick,
who set all the sarpents and frogs free from old
Ireland, I'd rather be a slave outright, than not
be as free as a mother Carey's chicken. By J—s,”
added he, after a pause—“let's vote him down.
Here's six of us, each equal to him—six to one—all
hollow—vote him down—vote him down—huzza
for the first principles, and let every one do as
they please.”
The counteracting principles carried all before
them—the resolution passed by acclamation, and I
found myself in the situation of a man, who in getting
through a wall, has made a hole which he can't
stop again for his life. Still I did not despair, being
positively certain that my master had at one
time succeeded in making Men Machines perfect,
and that what had been done might be done
again. I determined to discharge my present machines
as incorrigible, and collect a new set,
younger, and less under the influence of the counteracting
circumstances. Calling them together, I
announced my intention of dismissing them, on the
score of their not comprehending my master's first
itself, in the shape of a counteracting principle
as usual.
Not one of them would go, unless I consented to
make a fair division of the common property. With
the exception of the old housekeeper, who sighed
for the restoration of her ancient dominion over the
household, I was deserted by all. They clamoured
for a division of property, although I tried to
convince them, that as they had not contributed
any thing to the common fund, but had spent twice
as much as they earned, they were entitled to nothing.
“Och, then, he denies the sublime principle of
equality,” cried Murdoch—“he has fallen from
the state of perfectibility. My sweet ones, what
say you—let's vote him out—let's banish him the
community as an outlaw—a white boy—an imperfect
machine—a traitorous adherent to those diabolical
villains the counteracting principles.”
Murdoch's motion was carried without opposition,
except from the housekeeper, and yielding
to the force of the counteracting principles, I
quietly went into banishment at the neighbouring
village. Thus I found to my no small astonishment,
that the operation of my master's first principles,
being somehow or other got under by the
force of the counteracting principles, had actually
turned me out of my inheritance.
I have said nothing of the Celtic Macnab of late.
The truth is, he seemed to join but little in these
revolutionary proceedings. He was generally
either busy or affecting to be busy elsewhere,
and kept himself perfectly quiet. It will be seen
anon what he was about all this while. At the
village, I was waited upon by the minister of the
parish, who, hearing of my situation, came to offer
me advice and consolation. He advised me to appeal
to the laws for redress. I shook my head—
“That would be giving up my system entirely.”
“What system, I pray?” asked the old man.
“The system of perfectibility, as exemplified in
my master's New View of Society.”
“So then, you believe in the perfectibility of
man?”
“Certainly—I believe that if the Man Machine
was only freed from that erroneous system of education
which has prevailed for the last six thousand
years—and could escape the influence of the counteracting
principles—he would almost as a matter
of course, become a perfect Machine—as perfect
as a steam engine.”
The good man shook his head, and smiled a melancholy
smile—
“So then, you intend to put up with this
wrong, and refrain not only from claiming your
rights, but from punishing those who have invaded
them?”
“Certainly—I hold that as all the miseries, inconsistencies,
and crimes of the Man Machine,
proceed from the errors of his early education,
over which he can have no control, it follows as a
matter of course, that he ought not to be punished
for them. He can no more help them, than a machine
constructed upon false principles, can help
going wrong.”
“And you seriously believe the world has been
going wrong ever since the creation, and that you
are destined at last to set it going right.”
“I and my master.”
“O! the inordinate pride of human nature,”
quoth the old man, shaking his white locks.
“Pooh!—there is no such thing as human nature,
or any other kind of nature. Nature is nonsense
—an absurdity, a phantom, conjured up by folly
and prejudice. Man, sir, is a machine—you might
as well talk of the nature, the passions, the innate
impulses, of a spinning jenney, as of a man.”
“Your principles go to the complete disorganization
of the present system of society.”
“To be sure they do—and that is exactly what
I conceive constitutes their peculiar excellence.
The whole system is radically wrong, and I and my
master mean to set it right if we can only baffle
those scoundrels the counteracting principles, and
evade the force of circumstances.”
“But what is there so very wrong in the present
system, that you wish to overturn it?”
“In the first place—people are actually taught
crime, and then punished for it by the operation of
an unjust system of laws. Now, sir, in order to
remedy these crying evils, I would first put the
judge in place of the criminal and hang him, to a
certainty. Then I would abolish the whole system
of punishments, as unjust and unnecessary—for
nothing can be plainer, than that as all crimes and
errors proceed from an erroneous system of education,
it is idle and cruel at the same time, to make
laws for their punishment.”
“Then—to return to the point—you mean to
leave these people in possession of your estate.”
“I must—or abandon my system.”
“Your estate is worth a dozen such systems.”
“For shame, sir—do you value a few paltry
acres more than the perfectibility of the Man Machine.
I never saw a machine so completely under
the influence of the counteracting principles,
as you are.”
We had many similar conversations, all ending in
the same unsatisfactory manner. In the mean time,
my honest friend, the Celtic Macnab, was quietly
maturing a plan to arrest in the most effectual manner,
the perfectibility of man, so far as it depended
upon myself. He had represented me to the proper
authorities as a mischievous madman, going
whole existing institutions of society—an enemy to
property, order and religion. He further stated
that I was totally incapable of managing my estate,
and that it was the duty of the commission to appoint
an administrator to take it out of the hands
of my domestics, who had possession, and were
wasting it as fast as they could.
In pursuance of this information, I was unexpectedly
taken into custody, and carried before a
commission, to undergo an examination. Macnab
stated shortly what I have heretofore detailed
to the reader, and I was called on for an explanation
of the motives of my conduct. I detailed in
the clearest manner, the first principles of the New
View of Society, and stated the grand objects my
master and I had in view, in thus attempting to
overturn the whole system of the world. I never
was so eloquent before or since. But the machines
constituting the commission of inquiry were sadly
out of order, and the vile counteracting principles
were too strong for my arguments. They pronounced
me mad, although I proved to them that a
man could not possibly be made accountable for
his opinions, and appointed honest Macnab administrator
to my estate.
I was carried to a neighbouring city and placed
in a lunatic asylum. I made no resistance, for I
was satisfied they could not place me among a set
Nay, a sudden hope dawned upon me, that I
might possibly in time introduce my New System
of Society among the machines of the asylum.
Accordingly, one day when all the most quiet and
manageable among us were amusing ourselves in
the enclosure appointed for that purpose, I took an
opportunity of laying down my master's first principles.
Contrary to my expectations there was a
decided opposition to the principle of equality, as
well as that of a community of goods.
“Shall I, who am Alexander the great, sink to a
level with Alexander the coppersmith?” cried one.
“Shall I, who have written verses, ten thousand
times superior to Milton, or Homer, twaddle arm
in arm through Grub-street with Croly and Mrs.
Hemans?” cried another.
“And shall I, who have made the Apocalypse
as clear as noonday, grovel on the same level
with the expounder of a Chinese puzzle?” exclaimed
a third.
“And shall I, who have demonstrated the grand
principle of perpetual motion, acknowledge an
equality with a mere inventor of steam engines?”
roared a fourth.
“And shall I, who have completed a canal to
connect the Icy Sea with the North Pole, degenerate
into an equality with an Irish ditcher?” roared
a fifth.
“And shall I, who have invented a New System
of Society, to supersede law, gospel, crime and
punishment, be placed on the same shelf, with
such fellows as Moses, Solon, Peter the Great, Napoleon
Bonaparte, and Jeremy Bentham?” roared
a sixth.
You are the man for my money, thought I. I will
make you treasurer of the Society, which I have
observed is always the favourite office of great reformers
and philanthropists. I could almost have
persuaded myself that this was my master speaking,
but it proved to be a poor fellow, who in the sequel
demonstrated that he had not above half his discretion.
Before I could proceed to enforce my doctrines
by some of my master's best arguments, the
counteracting principles began to play away finely.
The indignation of the whole party fell upon me,
whom they looked upon as a leveller, a democrat,
a radical, who wished to deprive them of their just
claims to superiority.
Alexander the Great seized Perpetual Motion by
his thin spindle leg, with which he proceeded to
serve me as he had done old Clytus, and run me
through with his javelin. The poet thundered
forth an anathema, that beat that of Ernulphus, or
even one of lord Byron's curses, quite hollow—the
expounder of the Apocalypse pronounced me the
beast with seven heads and ten horns—the lawgiver
proceeded to a breach of his own laws, by
the internal improvement man threatened to make
me read all that had ever been written on the subject—and
the champion of the New System, forfeited
all claim to the office I had destined for him,
by seizing me by the collar, and demanding whether
I dared to question the eternal truth, that no man
was justly accountable for his opinions.
The uproar brought out the keepers, who having
traced its origin in the promulgation of my New
System of Society, immediately placed me in solitary
confinement. Here I had full leisure to reflect,
and to mature my plans for the perfectibility
of mankind. What a world is this, thought I, and
to what has it been brought by the erroneous system
of the last six thousand years! It has I fear
entirely unfitted mankind for any thing like a state
of perfectibility. Neither men in their senses, nor
men out of their senses are willing to adopt the
New System, which seems like the unlucky tailor's
coat that fitted nobody. I had many tight arguments
with the keeper who had me in charge, and
who was sadly under the influence of the counter-acting
principles. I could never convince him
that the world had been going completely wrong
ever since the creation, that all mankind were in
error, and my master alone right. He insisted the
first was a reflection upon Providence, and that it
was entirely contrary to reason that one man should
have indeed observed that reason is always in the
way of us great reformers, and have often heard
my master say, it was one of the strongest counter-acting
principles he had to deal with. There was
another obstacle always in his way, which he called
a “circumstance,” namely, the experience of
mankind, which my master swore, was the most
obstinate blockhead in the world.
I remained in this state of solitary abstraction
for about a month, during which my enthusiasm in
behalf of the New System of Society somewhat abated.
I had all the zeal in the world, but had no ambition
to become a martyr. At the end of the month,
the visitor, a benevolent physician, came to examine
into the cases of these unfortunate beings. He visited
me, and we had a long conversation, in which I
studiously abstained from the doctrines of the New
System of Society. I considered that no man was
bound to sacrifice himself to a theory; and that at
all events, I could do nothing to propagate the perfectibility
of man, while thus shut up from all communion
with my fellow creatures. It was impossible
to reform society, from the inside of a mad-house.
The doctor was surprised at my rationality,
and seemed inclined to report me as being perfectly
restored, when, unfortunately, happening to
differ with him in some point, I apologized, by observing,
that no man was accountable for his opinions
or actions in this world.
“Good day, my friend,” replied the doctor, bowing
almost to the ground, with great gravity—“I
am afraid you are not quite cured yet,” and away
he went. I could have bit off my tongue, and made
a solemn resolution not to say a single syllable
about the Man Machine—the perfectibility of man
—the counteracting circumstances, or any such
matters, the next time the doctor came.
At the end of a month the visitor came again,
and I conducted myself with such discretion that
he immediately procured an order from the trustees
of the asylum for my release. The keeper, as
he bade me farewell, warned me against perfectibility,
and I was very near being shut up again for
cautioning him against the counteracting principles.
Without losing any time I bent my steps towards
my estate with a design of bringing the Celtic Macnab
to a reckoning, for procuring me to be shut up
in a mad-house. When, however, I came to recollect,
that all the errors, inconsistencies, vices and
crimes of the Man Machine originated in his being
set going wrong at first by an erroneous system of
education, and that he could not in strict justice be
called to account for his opinions or actions, I determined
to treat him in the most friendly manner.
We accordingly had an amicable meeting,
in which, in discussing the subject of the New
View of Society, he observed, that the old world
was not the proper sphere for trying the experiment.
were difficult to change, or pull down. It
was in the wide space of the new world, where
there was plenty of elbow-room to give it a fair
trial, and where habits, manners and opinions had
not attained to that rigidity of muscle which renders
them unalterable, that it was undoubtedly destined
the experiment should completely triumph. He
also casually mentioned that my old master, had
already made arrangements for the grand experiment,
and had sailed for the new world.
I caught at the idea—and after some little discussion,
such was my impatience to follow my master,
agreed with Macnab to leave him in quiet possession,
for a sum of money which hardly amounted
to two years' purchase. It was a good estate,
although my people, yielding to the force of the
counteracting principles, had dilapidated it sadly.
Macnab had turned them all out except the old
housekeeper, who still maintained her rank and her
authority. I know not what became of the rest,
only that orator Murdoch took a trip to Botany Bay,
for acting too largely upon my master's grand principle
of a community of goods. I went to bid the
good old parson farewell.
“You are going on a wild goose chase,” said he.
“Yes—but people sometimes catch wild geese.”
“Much oftener than perfectibility.”
“Aye—aye,” said I, good humouredly—“you
it would put down your calling.”
He answered my smile—
“Well, go thy ways for an odd Man Machine.
Thou wilt one day discover the Providence is wiser
than thou art—Farewell. Tell me how you get
on in the new world—when your community becomes
quite perfect, send for me. I will come to
show you, that we parsons are not afraid of perfectibility.”
As I was going away he called me back—
“Stay, friend Perfectibility,” said he, merrily.
“Thou mayest want some person to certify for thee
in the new world, that thou art not quite as mad as
a March here. I will give thee a letter to an American,
formerly a fellow student of mine at Edinburgh,
who will befriend thee if necessary.”
He then sat down, and in a few minutes finished
a letter, which he gave me, directed to Mr. Robert
Ashley, at Bristol, Pennsylvania.
Full of anticipations, I went down to a neighbouring
seaport, and embarked for the new world,
where I arrived after a short passage without any
accident or event worth recording. During the
passage, I had some conversations on the New View
of Society, with an old sailor, who I attempted to
bring over to my master's theory. At last, however,
he cut me short by “D—g his eyes if he
believed there was any way to make a man perfect,
except by making a perfect sailor of him.”
There was, however, a fellow passenger on board,
who I found to be more reasonable, and less under
the dominion of the counteracting principles. We
had frequent discussions on the subject, and I opened
to him all my plans without reserve, not omitting
the sum of money I had with me, to invest in the
perfect community. He became a complete convert
to the New View of Society, and we agreed to
co-operate zealously in the great work of perfectibility.
We went to live at the same lodgings,
where we digested a plan of operations for the
future. The second day after landing, he came to
me, to say that by a great piece of ill luck, the
merchant on whom he had a credit for a large sum,
was out of town, and could not supply him with
funds.
“But I should not have minded that so much,”
said he, “except that another merchant to whom I
am indebted in part of this money, insists on my
paying him immediately. Now all I want is for
you to advance me the sum, till the day after
to-morrow, when the person on whom my bills
are drawn will be in town.”
He offered to show me the bills, but on second
thoughts, had left them with the merchant's
clerk. The sum he wanted was nearly all I was
worth in the world, but I lent it with as little
hesitation as my friend borrowed it. He then left
me to go and pay the debt he spoke of, desiring
he would certainly be back. But four came,
without my friend, and hour after hour passed
without his appearing. The dinner grew cold,
for I had no inclination to eat—not that I was
uneasy about my money, but my friend. I was
afraid that his simplicity had been imposed on,
or that like me he might have been mistaken for
a mad-man, and put in a lunatic asylum. A week
passed away without my seeing him, during which
time the remainder of my money had disappeared
also. I began to grow uneasy—and one day took
a solitary walk, in the envrions of the city, to reflect
on my situation, and ponder on the mysterious
disappearance of my friend. What was my
joy, on turning round a short corner, to meet him
face to face when I least expected. I was rejoiced
to see him, but I cannot say that he appeared
to share my raptures.
“My dear Man Machine,” cried I, “I am so
delighted to meet you again—I was afraid they
had put you in a mad-house, for believing in perfectibility.
By the way—I have spent every farthing
of my money and will thank you to let me
have what I lent you.”
“What, in a community where all things are to
be in common? You forget the New View of Society,”
said he, with a sort of sneer I did not like.
“Yes, but the system you know is not yet in
operation.”
“No matter, the principles on which it is founded
are eternal and immutable, sir. If a community
of goods is right in one case, it is right in another.
Your money is gone.”
“You don't say so,” said I, in great dismay.
“Gone, sir—I have considered myself as acting
up to the sublime principles of the New System, by
distributing it among the community, upon the just
basis of mutual wants, and mutual conveniences.
The tailor has some of it—the jeweller—the hatter—the
tavern keeper—has each his share—
but the last guineas went for a couple of dozen
Bingham wine, which would do your heart good
even to smell at. You shall come this blessed day,
and help crack a bottle—hey! my fine piece of
perfectibility!”
“So then, you have spent all my money?”
“Your money? my dear friend, you again forget
the sublime doctrines of the New System of Society.
You have only to consider each of these persons
who have received a share of your money, as members
of our community, and you will acknowledge
that it could not possibly belong to you.”
“I believe you are a great rascal.”
“My dear friend, how can you make that out?”
“You have cheated me of my money.”
“My good friend, you are certainly under the dominion
man was in this world. But suppose, for the sake
of argument, that I had defrauded you of your money.
What then—am I to blame?”
“Who else in the name of common sense?”
“Don't mention common sense, I beseech you—
it has nothing to do with the New System of Society.
We must try the question by our great master's
first principles.”
“Agreed.”
“Well then, can you deny that all the errors, inconsistencies,
and crimes of the Man Machine, for
the last six thousand years, may be traced in a direct
line to the absurd and mischievous system of
education which has prevailed all that time.”
“No.”
“Very well—and can you deny the immortal,
and immutable truth of the great principle of perfectibility,
that no man can be justly held responsible
for his opinions or his actions?”
“I do not deny it.”
“Very well; then answer me, thou ricketty, addle-pated,
imperfect machine, whether, even supposing
I had actually defrauded you of your money, I
am to be blamed for it? You must blame the erroneous
system of society, and if you punish any
body, it must be my parents who did not take sufficient
care to put down the rascally counteracting
principles.”
“And you think yourself justified on these
grounds?”
“Certainly, certainly—besides, it was my opinion
that if I did not rid you of your money, somebody
else would, that might not make as good use of
it; and the sublime circumstance of self-love, which
you know is the basis of all social duties, prompted
me to give the preference to myself. You at least
cannot blame me for acting up to first principles.”
“First principles! If the truth were known these
are nothing but my master's great enemies the counteracting
principles.”
“They are the principles of perfectibility.”
“They are the principles of the d—l, who it is
said can even quote scripture to his purpose.”
“My dear machine, how can you, a perfect man,
talk about such antiquated stuff as the scriptures.
Don't you know they are entirely unnecessary to
the perfect state.”
“I don't know,” cried I, in despair—“I know
nothing, I believe.”
“There now you may pass muster in your master's
great community. To know nothing and to
be conscious of it, is the most perfect state of
the Man Machine.” Then assuming all the air of
a mentor, he added,
“Look'e, Mr. Harmony, I will give you a piece
of advice, which if you follow it, will be worth
more than all your money, so that we shall be quit
stranger, don't attempt making him a convert to
principles that will not only justify his borrwoing
your money without ever paying, but picking your
pocket into the bargain.” So saying, he marched
off at a long trot, and presently disappeared in the
great wilderness of houses.
I was now left destitute in a strange land, and
what was most provoking of all, as it were, by the
operation of my master's first principles, which,
now for the first time I began to distrust not a
little. What to do I knew not, for I had been
so used to be told every day what to do, and to
do every day the same thing, that I was a perfect
inanimate machine, so far as respected the total
absence of the principle of self-government. I
stood with my hands in my breeches-pockets, I
dare say with a most rueful expression of face,
when suddenly I felt the letter of the worthy old
parson crumpled between my fingers. As the
last resort, I determined to go and deliver it to
Mr. Ashley, and claim his good offices. He lived
a considerable distance from the city, but being
a man well known, I soon got a direction to his
country seat.
In the morning, I was about getting into a stage
with my trunk, when the master of the house
came up with very little ceremony, or rather none
at all, and presented me a bill. I began to
goods, and the New View of Society. But this
was one of the most intractable machines I ever
had to do with. He told me his first principle
was to get his money if he could—his second to
send his boarders to jail, when they ran in debt
without being able to pay. These sounded to me
very much like some of my master's old enemies,
the counteracting principles. But the truth is, I
began to be so confused about principles, that I
could hardly tell one from another. Be this as
it may, I was carried to prison, when, according to
one of my master's first principles, the landlord,
who applied for, and the magistrate who granted
the commitment, ought to have been put there in
my place. Here I was admitted into a society
which came nearer to my master's New View, than
any thing I ever saw before or since. Here all
were equal, and there was a perfect community
of goods, each man borrowing from his neighbour
without ever thinking of payment. They
all moreover agreed perfectly, in laying the blame
of all the evils they had suffered, and all the
faults they had committed, to the errors of their
education, and were equally unanimous, in declaiming
against the injustice of legal punishments.
I verily believe there was not one of them, that
would not have come most heartily into my master's
idea of a community of goods, throughout
in some respects preferable to that of my
master, seeing we had nothing to do, and had the
best possible chance for perfectibility, being removed
from the temptations of this world, and out of
the reach of the counteracting principles. We
had iron bars, and double doors to keep the villains
out.
Notwithstanding some symptoms of ennui, which
began to creep over me, I felt myself so comfortable
that I hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry,
when one day a gentleman was ushered into my
room, who announced himself as Mr. Ashley.
“I just now,” said he, “received a letter from an
old friend of yours and mine, who says he gave you
one to me, and inquires whether I have seen you.
Being in town upon some business, I thought I
would look you out, and after some little tracing,
found you, where I am very sorry to see you, sir.”
“I have nothing to reproach myself with, and
very little to complain of,” said I. “Our society
here approaches tolerably near to the New View,
and the men come as near to the state of perfect
machines, as any I have seen, except my master and
myself.”
He looked at me with a mixture of pity and
wonder.
“I am glad you have been so comfortable
here. But at all events I hope you will have no
I have paid your small debt, and though our
society may not be quite so perfect as this, I
hope you will be able to tolerate it.”
There was an honest freedom, mingled with
hearty kindness, about Mr. Ashley, that won my
confidence, and after some little struggle with myself
I agreed to accompany him home. His establishment
was large, and he had about him a number
of workmen and labourers. But I regretted
to see that he had made little or no advance in the
great plan of perfectibility. He paid no regard to
the system of perfect equality, except so far as the
administration of justice required, and the grand
principle of a community of goods, was entirely
banished. Instead of treating his men and women
like machines, he actually put them on the footing
of rational beings, accountable for their actions,
forgetting entirely that these proceeded from an
erroneous system of education, over which they
had no control whatever. He laughed at the idea
of entirely banishing idleness, poverty and crime,
and of course the necessity of punishment, by
means of any system ever yet invented. As to the
counteracting principles, he went so far as to say
that this was a phrase invented by my master, who
by giving new names to old things, had sought to
screen the absurdity of his new system, from the
eyes of the ignorant.
Nevertheless, Mr. Ashley was a shrewd, clear-sighted
man, who had seen much, read much, and
reflected much in the course of his life. Like all
the well educated Americans, I have seen, he had
those practical notions of liberty, that are essential
to its existence, and which only the habitual enjoyment
of it can thoroughly implant in the mind.
When the rational inhabitants of the new world,
speak of freedom and equality, they mean nothing
more than the privilege of making their
own laws, and an equality of civil and religious
rights. “The first right of a people,” said Mr.
Ashley to me, in one of our discussions—“the first
right of a people is that of making their own laws—
their first duty is to obey them. They and the
magistrates who administer them, are the only
sovereigns.” This is a sentiment, I may say a
habit, with the Americans; and I often have had
occasion to observe that one of the last things they
think of, is resisting laws assented to by their own
peculiar legislature. My friend and I had long
and frequent arguments, upon the advantages of
the old and new system, for though he was my benefactor,
I was determined not to give up to him
on that account.
“Your master, as you call him,” said Mr. Ashley
to me, one day that I had advanced the doctrine
of perfectibility—“your master appears to consider
proceeding from ignorance.”
“Certainly,” said I, “they are the necessary and
inevitable consequences of ignorance, as my master
affirms.”
“As an abstract proposition and taken in its
broadest sense it is probably true. Could we conceive
the idea of any being, but Omnipotence alone,
gifted with perfect knowledge, that being would
probably be free from all vice. Perfect knowledge
presupposes a perfect conviction of the futility
of indulging the passions, except to the extent
in which they are essential to the existence of the
grand system of the universe. Perfect knowledge,
or wisdom, would know that inordinate lust, avarice,
ambition, gluttony, selfishness, envy, malice,
revenge, and all those passions which lead to the
commission of crime, were in fact sources of misery,
repentance and despair. It would therefore,
having this perfect conviction, abstain from the
criminal indulgence of these passions.”
“I am happy,” said I, “that you are a convert
to one of my master's first principles at least.”
“In its abstract, not in its application. I consider
it, when applied to man, as a preposterous absurdity.”
“As how?”
“Because it can never apply to him to the extent
perfect wisdom, or the argument falls to the ground.”
“But do you not believe, that in proportion as
we lose our ignorance, we recede from vice?”
“Indeed, I do not. In the main, I do believe that
the acquisition of knowledge, unless,” said Mr. Ashley,
smiling, “it meets with one of your master's
counteracting principles, is favourable to virtue.
But he must be little acquainted with the world, as
it has been, and as it is, not to be convinced, that in
the scale of virtue there is little difference between
knowledge and ignorance, except in the refinement
with which the one, and the grossness with which
the other indulges its vices. Generally speaking,
ignorance is not the fault of mankind, but their
misfortune. It would therefore impeach the justice
of Providence to suppose they were the worse on
that account.”
“Here, at least,” said I, eagerly, “you have admitted
one of my master's first principles. You
say that ignorance is generally not the fault, but
the misfortune of mankind. Is not this acknowledging
what my master affirms, that, as no man
directs his early education, so no man can justly be
accountable for his opinions or his actions.”
“Indeed, it is not. What I find fault with, in
your master's first principles, is, that though they
are, a great many of them, such as have been admitted
yet until now they were never carried to that mischievous
extent of practical application, which I
consider the defect, I might almost say, the wicked,
ness of your master's system. Consider what would
be the result of the application of your principle
of non-accountability. A perfect latitude of crime,
and a complete freedom from punishment—the absence
of all restraints of conscience or law.”
“But where would be the harm, if the Man Machine
was perfect?”
“Neither you or your master have a right to ask
the question until you make them so.”
“But you will admit that if they were perfect,
there would be no harm in it?”
“Certainly—only make them perfect, and I will
become a convert to the New System.”
“Only give us time, and you will see it all come
about. All that is necessary is to get rid of the rascally
counteracting circumstances.”
“O certainly—there I agree with you perfectly,”
said Mr. Ashley, smiling. “But as time is, you
acknowledge, necessary to make man perfect, what
is to become of society in the mean while, when
all the restraints of accountability and punishment
are thus suspended? It will fall into a state of nature,
if there ever was such a thing—a perfect anarchy—a
dissolution will take place.”
“My dear friend, that is just what we want. If
we could only dissolve the present state of society,
and produce a perfect chaos, we would then begin
ab avo, as my master says, and do what we pleased
afterwards in remodeling it.”
“But to return,” continued I, “to the inseparable
connexion between vice and ignorance. You
don't believe in it?”
“Let me answer you by another question, in
our yankee fashion. Which are most free from vice,
children or grown people?”
“Why, children, to be sure.”
“And which have most knowledge, children or
men?”
“Why, men, to be sure.”
“Then how can ignorance be the sole cause of
vice?”
Mr. Ashley seeing me rather posed, went on.
“My good friend, be assured the great error of
all system makers, is that of ascribing to one cause,
what is the result of the operation of many. Degrees
of vice are not to be measured by degrees of
ignorance—nor does the mere teaching of what is
right furnish any absolute guarantee for acting
rightly. There are a thousand temptations assailing
us, from which all the knowledge that will ever
fall to the lot of man, can be but an inadequate
defence?”
“That is owing to the intervention of the rascally
counteracting principles.”
“Call them what you will,” said Mr. Ashley,
“names do not alter things, nor can all thy master's
jargon about principles and circumstances, disguise
the passions and appetites of human nature, from
those who are not governed by mere words. It is
indeed a happy circumstance that the morals of
mankind do not depend upon the understanding of
metaphysical distinctions, else I fear there would
be little of morality in this world.”
“Then,” said I, after a pause, “you do not believe
in the influence of knowledge at all?”
“Pardon me,” said he, “I believe it has great influence,
and that to know our duties, is essentially
necessary to the practice of them. They are, to a
certain extent, indispensable to the maintenance
and enjoyment of that freedom which is the basis of
national prosperity and happiness. If to know
what is right is essential to practice, it is still more
essential to the enjoyment of our rights, that we
should know in what they consist. This cannot be
known without education. All I deny is, that
human knowledge will suffice to the total prevention
of crimes, or obviate the necessity of penal
statutes and punishments.”
“Punishments!” said I, “my master allows of
nothing of this kind. He has proved that punishment
is not only cruel, but entirely ineffectual in
the prevention of crime.”
“As how?”
“Why because, notwithstanding these punishments,
crimes are committed every day,” said I.
“Ah! that is your master's usual mode of drawing
conclusions. Because punishments do not prevent
crime entirely, he concludes that they are of
no effect whatever. Because they don't do every
thing, it follows in his system that they do nothing.
He sees that crimes are committed in spite of the
punishment; but only Omniscience can see how
many others are refrained from, in the apprehension
of the punishment that awaits them. In good
truth, my friend, of all thy master's absurdities,
and truly they are manifold, the absurdity of dispensing
with punishments altogether, because those
already denounced are insufficient for the total prevention
of crime, is the greatest. It is as if a parent
should say to a wayward and obstinate child, `Go
thy ways, and do as thou pleasest; I find ten stripes
will not prevent thee from transgressing, therefore I
will not increase them to twenty, but let thee off in
future, without any punishment at all.”'
“But my master relies upon the force of habit,
the absence of temptation, and the hope of reward,”
said I.
“My good friend, thy master relies upon insufficient
securities. The force of habit is strong I
allow, but where is thy master's surety that men
will not adopt bad habits as well as good?”
“The absence of all temptation to do evil,” replied
I.
“My friend,” replied Mr. Ashley, “where there
are temptations to do good, there will be temptations
to do evil. They are coeval, co-existent
and inseparable.”
“But we are to have neither temptation to one
or the other—temptation is to be banished entirely.”
“Then what becomes of the hope of reward—
is not that a temptation to do good? But be assured
that rewards will not do alone in this world,
without the aid of punishments. You may punish
a man for committing a crime, but it would be
impossible for society under any view, new or old,
to reward all persons for abstaining from it. But
even if society had the means, how is it to arrive at
a knowledge of the degree of temptation resisted,
of the degree of virtuous forbearance exercised, so
as to proportion the reward to the resistance? It
would be confounding all degrees of virtue to reward
all alike, and it would be arrogating to ourselves
the Omniscience of the Supreme Being, to
pretend to discriminate between the temptations
and forbearance of all those who abstain from the
commission of crime. Solon, one of the wisest of
lawgivers, ancient or modern, has said, that in order
to make men virtuous, you must allure them by
rewards, and deter them by punishments. All legislators
have proceeded upon these principles. Is
it appears that his system, so far from indicating
superior wisdom, is founded in a total practical ignorance
of man; and a complete misapplication of
the little abstract knowledge he possesses.”
“Then you deny that the hope of reward operates
in favour of virtue,” said I.
“Indeed, not I. I only deny that it is sufficient in
itself to restrain the passions of mankind—I find fault
only with thy master for affirming it to be so. A
perfect system can no more be made out of a single
principle like this, than a perfect man could be
made with only one leg. Thy system has but half
a leg in truth.”
Here I observed that I thought my master at least
sincere and disinterested, in his plans for improving
the happiness of the human family, and that however
he might be led astray by an unlimited application
of his first principles, his object at least
should shelter him from ridicule.
“Why, I don't know,” replied Mr. Ashley—“a
good intention certainly goes far to sanction a reasonable
degree of theoretical absurdity. But when
such absurdities strike at the root of the whole
frame of society, and in their operation go to unsettle
the very fundamental principles of religion,
morals and government, the author of them becomes
Ferœ Naturœ—a sort of common enemy,
whom it is lawful to run down, either by reason or
my good friend, I believe the sage Don Quixote
was the last man that ever seriously undertook to
fight with a windmill; except it may be that I am
somewhat liable to a similar imputation, in having
seriously attempted to battle with thy master's first
principles. To oppose fanaticism, or uncloak hypocrisy,
by serious argument, is a hopeless task, because
the former neither reasons, nor listens to reason,
and the latter is always too interested to become
a convert. I do not doubt thy master's sincerity,
although he talks a little too much, I think,
about increase of profit, pecuniary gain, and such
like worldly matters, which slip out occasionally;
but whether sincere and disinterested or not, he has
no right to demand, or you either, that because he
is serious, others must of necessity be serious too.
Goodness of intention, like charity, covers a multitude
of sins—but a good intention can only be known
to him who searches all hearts, while its evil consequences
may be estimated by every rational being.
It would be making error perpetual to approach it
on all occasions with a most profound and reverential
gravity. Such is indeed the infirmity of our
nature that what is often impenetrable to reason,
and invincible to persecution and torture, is brushed
away by the light feather of ridicule in a single
moment. There is another good practical reason
for using this weapon in cases like the present.
down by the good sense and good feeling of the
people, excited and awake nedby addresses to both.
This excitement is to be produced, either by verbal
arguments or by printed publications, which
last, to be of any service, must be read. Now, hundreds
will read a book that makes them laugh,
where one will read a book that only makes him
wise. I never expect to attack thy master's first
principles, in a book, but I claim the privilege of
laughing at them when I please, notwithstanding
your gravity. I hope you will take it in good part,
for I promise you, that in some ages and countries,
your master would not have been let off with a
laugh.”
These arguments were renewed almost every
day, and I confess that each one contributed in some
degree to unsettle for a moment my faith in the
New View of Society. But though weakened I
was not overcome, and I exulted from time to time
in detecting Mr. Ashley in what I supposed inconsistencies
and contradictions.
“If I understand,” said I one day, “you deny my
master's first principle, that any character may be
given to a community, or to the world at large, by
means which are in the power and at the command
of those who influence human affairs?”
“I do, as usual,” replied Mr. Ashley, “to the
extent to which he carries it.”
“Then you deny the influence of power, wealth,
talent, superstition, corporeal strength—in short,
whatever has enabled men to obtain an influence
over nations, and to modify their systems of government?”
“My good friend, it appears to me the pupils of
perfectibility have a very imperfect mode of understanding
argument. You, for example, seem to
suppose that I deny every thing you advance, because
I don't assent to every thing. I believe if I
were to deny that this was a bright sunshiny day,
merely because it rains, you would take me up as
affirming there was no such thing as sunshine in this
world. Here, as usual, your master's proposition is
true to a certain extent; but to affirm that the character
of a community entirely depends on its rulers,
or in other words, `those who influence human
affairs,' is running into an extreme, and all extremes
are absurdities. This would be making
man a machine at once, to be set in motion entirely
at the will or caprice of another. I certainly believe
in the very weighty influence of rulers and
lawgivers, but I don't believe all of them put together,
could make the native of Lapland or Kamschatka,
an Italian amateur of the fine arts, any
more than I believe a pig could be brought to prefer
wiping his nose with a cambric handkerchief by
the influence of either his master's precepts or example.
I have seen a learned pig it is true, but his
rewards and punishments, both which your master
discards from his new system. That power, wealth,
virtue and genius, give certain men great influence
in the formation of the community in which they
live, is certain. But there are a thousand other `circumstances,'
as your master would call them, either
aiding or counteracting this influence, and modifying
habits, manners, and opinions. Your master is
only wrong here, as he generally is, in ascribing all
to the influence of man, and leaving nothing to those
more powerful instruments wielded by Providence.
He appears to deal in none but secondary causes.”
Proceeding in the discussion of my master's first
principles, we at length came to the community of
goods, the perfect equality, and the great axiom,
that nothing was necessary to supersede the whole
complicated system of education, government and
religion but the proper understanding of the great
truth, that self-love and social are the same. In
discussing these points Mr. Ashley observed—
“That the object of my master, in making a perfect
equality, and a community of goods, two of the
fundamental principles of his system, appeared to
be that of withdrawing from his Men Machines three
of the great sources of injustice and crime among
mankind, to wit, ambition, avarice and envy. But
the idea of so perfect a system of equality, so perfect
a community of every thing, as would place
passions”—
“Counteracting principles, if you please.”
“Well, counteracting principles then,” said Mr.
Ashley, good naturedly—“the idea, I say, is absurd
and preposterous. There is an inequality in nature,
if nowhere else, which is beyond the control
of systems and theories; and even admitting there
were not, unless you could produce a perfect equality
in that estimation in which men hold the good
things of this world, it would be impossible to prevent
them from envying some one or other—from
indulging a desire to appropriate what is not their
own, and to control the opinions and actions of
their fellows. In short, you must place man in the
grave before you can place him beyond the reach
of the pass— I beg pardon, the counteracting principles.
But were it even possible to introduce and
sustain for any length of time so perfect an equality,
as that all should be precisely on a footing with
regard to worldly goods, and worldly sources of enjoyment,
I fear there would not be the less play of
the little and malignant passions. Experience,
which is a surer guide than the vagaries of sanguine
or deluded theorists, has convinced me that it is
precisely in this state of perfect equality that these
ignoble passions are most excited, and most mischievously,
for the happiness of the community.
My observation has taught me that those who are
any respect, are seldom the objects of our envy
or jealousy. But even if they should become so,
they are placed beyond the reach of their daily effects.
It is among our equals, and companions,
those who rival us in our favourite pursuits—who
cross our paths in the attainment of what we most
ardently covet—who share with or deprive us
of the gratification of some long sought good or
pleasure—it is towards these that the malignant
passions are most frequently and most bitterly excited.
People so circumstanced, are perpetually
coming into conflict with each other, in the attainment
of those objects, which in any state of society I
have ever been acquainted with, must and will constitute
our most powerful excitements. These
petty rivalries, so far from being diminished, only
rage the more venomously, where people are cooped
up in a small space and crowded together under
the immediate eye of the dispenser of honours and
rewards. Proximity is to the passions, what oil is
to the fire; it makes them rage ten times more furiously.
They will be found to operate in a narrow
and confined sphere much more actively, incessantly
and vehemently, than out in the broad space
of the great world, where there is such a vast variety
of pursuits, and so much elbow-room for all,
that the passions seem to lose their force and malignity
by expansion. There are so many temptations,
and each in turn exercising a momentary influence,
that the mind is in a vast many cases saved from the
worst of all tyrannies, that of a ruling passion, the
source of most of the crimes and excesses that blot
the history of the human race.”
Mr. Ashley was no better pleased with my master's
great principle, “that all that was necessary
to the perfection of society was self-love properly
understood.”
“Like all the rest of your master's principles,”
said he, “it is alike absurd and dangerous in its application,
by being carried to an extreme. Besides,
it is refining too much. Mankind are not to be
governed by metaphysical niceties, and it is especially
dangerous, to attempt to make that the foundation
of all virtue, which has ever been considered
the foundation of all vice. In the language and
perceptions of ordinary people, self-love, is synonymous
with the total absence of all the social duties,
and the danger of inculcating it as the basis of
social happiness, is, that you may persuade them
that excessive sensual indulgences, are not only allowable,
but praise-worthy. With ordinary minds,
I imagine it will be difficult to make out a clear
comprehension of the difference between that self-love
which seeks its fruition in the indulgence of
the selfish passions, and that which finds it in administering
to the happiness of others. The latter,
call self-denial, rather than self-love; and I should
have been much better pleased with your master's
system, had he condescended to administer to their
comprehension, by giving it a name they can understand.”
“But my master's system is addressed to the
wise, instead of the ignorant. There will be no
such thing as ignorance in the new system of society.
We are all to be philosophers.”
“What! a community of philosophers! That is
but another name for bedlam. And philosophers
too, passing the greater portion of their time at the
spinning jenney, the loom and the steam engine.
The school of Socrates certainly was nothing to
this. No doubt you will all be perfect in time.”
“Aye, sir, perfect Men Machines.”
“I have no doubt of it,” said my friend dryly.
“But,” said I, “we are not to be always learning
philosophy and metaphysics at the spinning jenney
—we are to be taught all the moral duties, that is to
say, the children—and instructed in their exercise at
the play ground. There, under the superintendence
of sage mentors, the little candidates are to be initiated
into all the mysteries of the proper application
of the great fundamental principle of self-love.”
Mr. Ashley shook his head.
“My good friend, there is a time for all things
make the plays of children a medium for inculcating
either morals or knowledge, they cease to be
recreations, they become tasks, and the whole end
and object of plays, to wit, relaxation of mind, and
wholesome exercise of body, is lost. You may
teach children to forget they are hungry by play—
but neither philosophy or morals, I imagine, are to
be learned at children's plays, which essentially
consist, and in fact derive their principal excitements,
from the strife of strength, skill, courage,
swiftness of foot, or some other physical qualities.
Besides, if you are to make philosophers by play,
it is essential that they should play nearly the
whole time, and then what becomes of the spinning
jenney and the common fund?”
“Then,” replied I, in great vexation, “you don't
believe in one single one of my master's first principles?”
“Not to the extent to which he carries their
operation. Every one of them in my opinion, are
practically false.”
“Nor in the force of `circumstances?”'
“Certainly, if you mean the temptations of this
life.”
“My good sir, I mean no such nonsense.”
“What then do you mean?”
“Why—the—the—force of circumstances—and
I suppose you deny that the counteracting principles
are the greatest rascals in the world?”
“If you mean the passions, I do not deny it.”
“Pshaw! I beg pardon, but you talk nonsense.
There is no such thing as passions in my master's
New View of Society.”
“That may be, but this don't prove they have no
existence.”
“You believe, in short, that the present state of
society cannot be improved?”
“There you go again—because I don't believe
it can be made perfect, you make me say it cannot
be improved. I think it may be greatly improved,
but not by such reformers as your master. His system
may increase the amount of productive labour—
it may, to use his own words, produce to the administrators
of a community of this kind, `a large increase
of pecuniary gain, preserve the body in a good
working condition, and enable one woman to do the
work of twenty.'[17]
If this is perfectibility then you
will undoubtedly be perfect.”
These arguments, and a variety of others Mr.
Ashley from time to time brought forward against
my master's new system, I confess undermined for
a time my firm reliance upon its practicability. By
degrees, I abandoned all present thoughts of joining
the new association of which I saw flaming accounts
me some employment.
“With all my heart,” said he, “what are you fit
for? Can you plow?”
“No, sir—but I can tend a spinning jenney.”
“Can you mow?”
“No.”
“Thresh?”
“No.”
“Plant corn?”
“No.”
“Make cider?”
“No.”
“Have you learned any trade?”
“No—except tending a spinning jenney.”
“Can you handle an axe?”
“No.”
“A spade?”
“No.”
“Do you know when to plant, when to gather in
harvest, and at what season to perform the different
operations of rural economy?”
“No—all seasons were alike with us, and there
was a time not for all things, but for one thing only,
watching the spinning jenney. But I dare say I
can learn—try me, sir.”
Accordingly I went into the fields with Mr. Ashley,
to assist in some light labours of the field, but I
made a poor hand of it. One day he set me to
standing before the wheel watching till it
should begin to go round like a spinning jenney.
From time to time, he tried me at other occupations,
but I know not how it was, I could never get
on, for want of the inspiring din, and clattering
wheels of the cotton machinery, and was either
found quite becalmed in the fields, or watching the
motion of a water wheel, belonging to a mill upon
the estate. At length, however, Mr. Ashley hit
upon an expedient, that partly answered the purpose
of setting my machinery going. He procured
a machine called in America, a horse-fiddle, which
was placed on a pole in the field where I was to be
employed. So long as that went, I went; but when
the weather was calm, the fiddle stopt, and so did I.
The people about laughed at me most unmercifully,
but I was delighted with the experiment, which
demonstrated entirely to my satisfaction, that I had
become a perfect Man Machine. In fact I became
more than ever a convert to my master's new system,
and nothing could afterwards shake my conviction
of the perfect ease with which the perfectibility
of man might be attained, if we could only
get rid of “the circumstances,” and their confounded
abettors the rascally “counteracting principles.”
But not even the consciousness of superiority,
can sustain a man for any length of time against the
ridicule of all around him. I began to be tired of
of me, finding I was proof against his sophistry. It
one day chanced to fall out, that I came across the
sublime theory of the Concentric Spheres, which
struck me exceedingly. I determined at once to
leave Mr. Ashley, and as I had become convinced
that the outside crust of this world was not fitted
for my master's theory, nor my master's theory for
it, decided to try the experiment, and see what the
inside would do for us.
“Where art thou going, my good friend,” said
Mr. Ashley.
“To search for the perfectibility of man, among
the Concentric Spheres.”
“Right, thou wilt find them together, I'll warrant
thee.” And thus we parted. The rest you
know.
| THE
MERRY TALES
OF THE
THREE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM. THE MAN MACHINE;
OR,
THE PUPIL OF “CIRCUMSTANCES.” The merry tales of the three wise men of Gotham | |