CHAPTER XVII. NEW LORDS, NEW LAWS—GYRATION, ROTATION, AND ANOTHER NATION; ALSO AN INVITATION.

I felt that my situation had now become exceedingly peculiar. It is true that my modesty had been unexpectedly spared, by the very ingenious turn Dr. Reasono had given to the history of our connection with each other; but I could not see that I had gained any other advantage by the expedient. All my own species had, in a sense, cut me; and I was obliged to turn despondingly, and not without humiliation, towards the inn, where the banquet ordered by Mr. Poke waited our appearance.

I had reached the great square, when a tap on the knee drew my attention to one at my side. The applicant for notice was a monikin, who had all the physical peculiarities of a subject of Leaphigh, and yet, who was to be distinguished from most of the inhabitants of that country, by a longer and less cultivated nap to his natural garment, greater shrewdness about the expression of the eyes and the mouth, a general air of business, and, for a novelty, a bob-cauda. He was accompanied by positively the least well-favored being of the species I had yet seen. I was addressed by the former.

“Good morning, Sir John Goldencalf,” he commenced, with a sort of jerk, that I afterwards learned was meant for a diplomatic salutation; “you have not met with the very best treatment to-day, and I have been waiting for a good opportunity to make my condolences, and to offer my services.”

“Sir, you are only too good. I do feel a little wronged, and, I must say, sympathy is most grateful to my feelings. You will, however, allow me to express my surprise at your being acquainted with my real name, as well as with my misfortunes?”

“Why, sir, to own the truth, I belong to an examining people. The population is very much scattered in my country, and we have fallen into a practice of inquiry that is very natural to such a state of things. I think you must have observed that in passing along a common highway, you rarely meet another without a nod; while thousands are met in a crowded street without even a glance of the eye. We develop this principle, sir; and never let any fact escape us for the want of a laudable curiosity.”

“You are not a subject of Leaphigh, then?”

“God forbid! No, sir, I am a citizen of Leaplow, a great and a glorious republic that lies three days’ sail from this island; a new nation, which is in the enjoyment of all the advantages of youth and vigor, and which is a perfect miracle for the boldness of its conceptions, the purity of its institutions, and its sacred respect for the rights of monikins. I have the honor to be, moreover, the envoy-extraordinary and minister-plenipotentiary of the republic to the king of Leaphigh, a nation from which we originally sprung, but which we have left far behind us in the race of glory and usefulness. I ought to acquaint you with my name, sir, in return for the advantage I possess on this head, in relation to yourself.”

Hereupon my new acquaintance put into my hand one of his visiting-cards, which contained as follows:—

General-Commodore-Judge-Colonel PEOPLE’S FRIEND:

Envoy-Extraordinary and Minister-Plenipotentiary from the Republic of Leaplow, near his Majesty the King of Leaphigh.

“Sir,” said I, pulling off my hat with a profound reverence, “I was not aware to whom I had the honor of speaking. You appear to fill a variety of employments, and I make no doubt, with equal skill.”

“Yes, sir, I believe I am about as good at one of my professions as at another.”

“You will permit me to observe, however, General—a—a Judge—a—a—I scarcely know, dear sir, which of these titles is the most to your taste?”

“Use which you please, sir—I began with General, but had got as low as Colonel before I left home. People’s Friend is the only appellation of which I am at all tenacious. Call me People’s Friend, sir, and you may call me anything else you find most convenient.”

“Sir, you are only too obliging. May I venture to ask if you have really, propria persona, filled all these different stations in life?”

“Certainly, sir—I hope you do not mistake me for an impostor!”

“As far from it as possible.—But a judge and a commodore, for instance, are characters whose duties are so utterly at variance in human affairs, that I will allow I find the conjunction, even in a monikin, a little extraordinary.”

“Not at all, sir. I was duly elected to each, served my time out in them all, and have honorable discharges to show in every instance.”

“You must have found some perplexity in the performance of duties so very different?”

“Ah—I see you have been long enough in Leaphigh to imbibe some of its prejudices! It is a sad country for prejudice. I got my foot mired in some of them myself, as soon as it touched the land. Why sir, my card is an illustration of what we call, in Leaplow, rotation in office.”

“Rotation in office!”

“Yes, sir, rotation in office; a system that we invented for our personal convenience, and which is likely to be firm, as it depends on principles that are eternal.”

“Will you suffer me to inquire, colonel, if it has any affinity to the social-stake system?”

“Not in the least. That, as I understand it, is a stationary, while this is a rotatory system. Nothing is simpler. We have in Leaplow two enormous boxes made in the form of wheels. Into one we put the names of the citizens, and into the other the names of the offices. We then draw forth, in the manner of a lottery, and the thing is settled for a twelvemonth.”

“I find this rotatory plan exceedingly simple—pray, sir, does it work as well as it promises?”

“To perfection.—We grease the wheels, of course, periodically.”

“And are not frauds sometimes committed by those who are selected to draw the tickets?”

“Oh! they are chosen precisely in the same way.”

“But those who draw THEIR tickets?”

“All rotatory—they are drawn exactly on the same principle.”

“But there must be a beginning. Those, again, who draw THEIR tickets—they may betray their trusts?”

“Impossible—THEY are always the most patriotic patriots of the land! No, no, sir—we are not such dunces as to leave anything to corruption. Chance does it all. Chance makes me a commodore to-day—a judge to-morrow. Chance makes the lottery boys, and chance makes the patriots. It is necessary to see in order to understand how much purer and useful is your chance patriot, for instance, than one that is bred to the calling.”

“Why, this savors, after all, of the doctrine of descents, which is little more than matter of chance.”

“It would be so, sir, I confess, were it not that our chances centre in a system of patriots. Our approved patriots are our guarantees against abuses—”

“Hem!”—interrupted the companion of Commodore People’s Friend, with an awkward distinctness, as if to recall himself to our recollection.

“Sir John, I crave pardon for great remissness—allow me to present my fellow-citizen, Brigadier Downright, a gentleman who is on his travels, like yourself; and as excellent a fellow as is to be found in the whole monikin region.”

“Brigadier Downright, I crave the honor of your acquaintance.—But, gentlemen, I too have been sadly negligent of politeness. A banquet that has cost a hundred promises is waiting my appearance; and, as some of the expected guests are unavoidably absent, if you would favor me with your excellent society, we might spend an agreeable hour, in the further discussion of these important interests.”

As neither of the strangers made the smallest objection to the proposal, we were all soon comfortably situated at the dinner-table. The commodore, who, it would seem, was habitually well fed, merely paid a little complimentary attention to the banquet; but Mr. Downright attacked it tooth and nail, and I had no great reason to regret the absence of Mr. Poke. In the meantime, the conversation did not flag.

“I think I understand the outline of your system, Judge People’s Friend,” I resumed, “with the exception of the part that relates to the patriots. Would it be asking too much to request a little explanation on that particular point?”

“Not in the least, sir. Our social arrangement is founded on a hint from nature; a base, as you will concede, that is broad enough to sustain a universe. As a people, we are a hive that formerly swarmed from Leaphigh; and finding ourselves free and independent, we set about forthwith building the social system on not only a sure foundation, but on sure principles. Observing that nature dealt in duplicates, we pursued the hint, as the leading idea—”

“In duplicates, commodore!”

“Certainly, Sir John—a monikin has two eyes two ears, two nostrils, two lungs, two arms, two hands, two legs, two feet, and so on to the end of the chapter. On this hint, we ordered that there should be drawn, morally, in every district of Leaplow, two distinct and separate lines, that should run at right angles to each other. These were termed the ‘political landmarks’ of the country; and it was expected that every citizen should range himself along one or the other. All this you will understand, however, was a moral contrivance, not a physical one.”

“Is the obligation of this moral contrivance imperative?”

“Not legally, it is true; but then, he who does not respect it is like one who is out of fashion, and he is so generally esteemed a poor devil, that the usage has a good deal more than the force of a law. At first, it was intended to make it a part of the constitution; but one of our most experienced statesmen so clearly demonstrated that, by so doing, we should not only weaken the nature of the obligation, but most probably raise a party against it, that the idea was abandoned. Indeed, if anything, both the letter and the spirit of the fundamental law have been made to lean a little against the practice; but having been cleverly introduced, in the way of construction, it is now bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh. Well, sir, these two great political landmarks being fairly drawn, the first effort of one who aspires to be thought a patriot is to acquire the practice of ‘toeing the mark’ promptly and with facility. But should I illustrate my positions by a few experiments, you might comprehend the subject all the better.—For though, in fact, the true evolutions are purely moral, as I have just had the honor to explain, yet we have instituted a physical parallel that is very congenial to our habits, with which the neophyte always commences.”

Here the commodore took a bit of chalk and drew two very distinct lines, crossing each other at right angles, through the centre of the room. When this was done, he placed his feet together, and then he invited me to examine if it were possible to see any part of the planks between the extremities of his toes and the lines. After a rigid look, I was compelled to confess it was not.

“This is what we call ‘toeing the mark’; it is social position, No. 1. Almost every citizen gets to be expert in practising it, on one or the other of the two great political lines. After this, he who would push his fortunes further, commences his career on the great rotatory principle.”

“Your pardon, commodore, we call the word rotary, in English.”

“Sir, it is not expressive enough for our meaning; and therefore we term it ‘rotatory.’ I shall now give you an example of position No. 2.”

Here the commodore made a spring, throwing his body, as a soldier would express it, to the “right about,” bringing, at the same time, his feet entirely on the other side of the line; always rigidly toeing the mark.

“Sir,” said I, “this was extremely well done; but is this evolution as useful as certainly it is dexterous?”

“It has the advantage of changing front, Sir John; a manoeuvre quite as useful in politics as in war. Most all in the line get to practise this, too, as my friend Downright, there, could show you, were he so disposed.”

“I don’t like to expose my flanks, or my rear, more than another,” growled the brigadier.

“If agreeable, I will now show you gyration 2d, or position No. 3.”

On my expressing a strong desire to see it, the commodore put himself again in position No. 1; and then he threw what Captain Poke was in the habit of calling a “flap-jack,” or a summerset; coming down in a way tenaciously to toe the mark.

I was much gratified with the dexterity of the commodore, and frankly expressed as much; inquiring, at the same time, if many attained to the same skill. Both the commodore and the brigadier laughed at the simplicity of the question; the former answering that the people of Leaplow were exceedingly active and adventurous, and both lines had got to be so expert, that, at the word of command, they would throw their summersets in as exact time, and quite as promptly, as a regiment of guards would go through the evolution of slapping their cartridge-boxes.

“What, sir,” I exclaimed, in admiration, “the entire population!”

“Virtually, sir. There is, now and then, a stumbler; but he is instantly kicked out of sight, and uniformly counts for nothing.”

“But as yet, commodore, your evolutions are altogether too general to admit of the chance selection of patriots, since patriotism is usually a monopoly.”

“Very true, Sir John; I shall therefore come to the main point without delay. Thus far, it is pretty much an affair of the whole population, as you say; few refusing to toe the mark, or to throw the necessary flap-jacks, as you have ingeniously termed them. The lines, as you may perceive, cross each other at right angles; and there is consequently some crowding, and occasionally, a good deal of jostling, at and near the point of junction. We begin to term a monikin a patriot when he can perform this evolution.”

Here the commodore threw his heels into the air with such rapidity that I could not very well tell what he was about, though it was sufficiently apparent that he was acting entirely on the rotatory principle. I observed that he alighted, with singular accuracy, on the very spot where he had stood before, toeing the mark with beautiful precision.

“That is what we call gyration 3d, or position No. 4. He who can execute it is considered an adept in our politics; and he invariably takes his position near the enemy, or at the junction of the hostile lines.”

“How, sir, are these lines, then, manned as they are with citizens of the same country, deemed hostile?”

“Are cats and dogs hostile, sir?—Certainly. Although standing, as it might be, face to face, acting on precisely the same principle, or the rotatory impulse, and professing to have exactly the same object in view, viz., the common good, they are social, political, and I might almost say, the moral antipodes of each other. They rarely intermarry, never extol, and frequently refuse to speak to one another. In short, as the brigadier could tell you, if he were so disposed, they are antagonist, body and soul. To be plain, sir, they are enemies.”

“This is very extraordinary for fellow-citizens!”

“’Tis the monikin nature,” observed Mr. Downright; “no doubt, sir, men are much wiser?”

As I did not wish to divert the discourse from the present topic, I merely bowed to this remark, and begged the judge to proceed.

“Well, sir,” continued the latter, “you can easily imagine that they who are placed near the point where the two lines meet, have no sinecures. To speak the truth, they blackguard each other with all their abilities, he who manifests the most inventive genius in this high accomplishment, being commonly thought the cleverest fellow. Now, sir, none but a patriot could, in the nature of things, endure this without some other motive than his country’s good, and so we esteem them.”

“But the most patriotic patriots, commodore?”

The minister of Leaphigh now toed the mark again, placing himself within a few feet of the point of junction between the two lines, and then he begged me to pay particular attention to his evolution. When all was ready, the commodore threw himself, as it were, invisibly into the air, again head over heels, so far as I could discover, and alighted on the antagonist line, toeing the mark with a most astonishing particularity. It was a clever gyration, beyond a doubt; and the performer looked towards me, as if inviting commendation.

“Admirably executed, judge, and in a way to induce one to believe that you must have paid great attention to the practice.”

“I have performed this manoeuvre, Sir John, five times in real life; and my claim to be a patriotic patriot is founded on its invariable success. A single false step might have ruined me; but as you say, practice makes perfect, and perfection is the parent of success.”

“And yet I do not rightly understand how so sudden a desertion of one’s own side, to go over in this active manner head over heels, I may say, to another side, constitutes a fair claim to be deemed so pure a character as that of a patriot.”

“What, sir, is not he who throws himself defencelessly into the very middle of the ranks of the enemy, the hero of the combat? Now, as this is a political struggle, and not a warlike struggle, but one in which the good of the country is alone uppermost, the monikin who thus manifests the greatest devotion to the cause, must be the purest patriot. I give you my honor, sir, all my own claims are founded entirely on this particular merit.”

“He is right, Sir John; you may believe every word he says,” observed the brigadier, nodding.

“I begin to understand your system, which is certainly well adapted to the monikin habits, and must give rise to a noble emulation in the practice of the rotatory principle. But I understood you to say, colonel, that the people of Leaplow are from the hive of Leaphigh?”

“Just so, sir.”

“How happens it, then, that you dock yourselves of the nobler member, while the inhabitants of this country cherish it as the apple of the eye—nay, as the seat of reason itself?”

“You allude to our tails?—Why, sir, nature has dealt out these ornaments with a very unequal hand, as you may perceive on looking out of the window. We agree that the tail is the seat of reason, and that the extremities are the most intellectual parts; but, as governments are framed to equalize these natural inequalities, we denounce them as anti-republican. The law requires, therefore, that every citizen, on attaining his majority, shall be docked agreeably to a standard measure that is kept in each district. Without some such expedient, there might be an aristocracy of intellect among us, and there would be an end of our liberties. This is the qualification of a voter, too, and of course we all seek to obtain it.”

Here the brigadier leaned across the table and whispered that a great patriot, on a most trying occasion, had succeeded in throwing a summerset out of his own into the antagonist line, and that, as he carried with him all the sacred principles for which his party had been furiously contending for many years, he had been unceremoniously dragged back by his tail, which unfortunately came within reach of those quondam friends on whom he had turned his back; and that the law had, in truth, been passed in the interests of the patriots. He added, that the lawful measure allowed a longer stump than was commonly used; but that it was considered underbred for any one to wear a dock that reached more than two inches and three quarters of an inch into society, and that most of their political aspirants, in particular, chose to limit themselves to one inch and one quarter of an inch, as a proof of excessive humility.

Thanking Mr. Downright for his clear and sensible explanation, the conversation was resumed.

“I had thought, as your institutions are founded on reason and nature, judge,” I continued, “that you would be more disposed ta cultivate this member than to mutilate it; and this the more especially, as I understand all monikins believe it to be the very quintessence of reason.”

“No doubt, sir; we do cultivate our tails, but it is on the vegetable principle, or as the skilful gardener lops the branch that it may throw out more vigorous shoots. It is true, we do not expect to see the tail itself sprouting out anew; but then we look to the increase of its reason, and to its more general diffusion in society. The extremities of our cauda, as fast as they are lopped, are sent to a great intellectual mill, where the mind is extracted from the matter, and the former is sold, on public account, to the editors of the daily journals. This is the reason our Leaplow journalists are so distinguished for their ingenuity and capacity, and the reason, too, why they so faithfully represent the average of the Leaplow knowledge.”

“And honesty, you ought to add,” growled the brigadier.

“I see the beauty of the system, judge, and very beautiful it is! This essence of lopped tails represents the average of Leaplow brains, being a compound of all the tails in the country; and, as a daily journal is addressed to the average intellect of the community, there is a singular fitness between the readers and the readees. To complete my stock of information on this head, however, will you just allow me to inquire what is the effect of this system on the totality of Leaplow intelligence?”

“Wonderful! As we are a commonwealth, it is necessary to have a unity of sentiment on all leading matters, and by thus compounding all the extremes of our reasons we get what is called ‘public opinion’; which public opinion is uttered through the public journals—”

“And a most patriotic patriot is always chosen to be the inspector of the mill,” interrupted the brigadier.

“Better and better! you send all the finer parts of your several intellects to be ground up and kneaded together; the compound is sold to the journalists, who utter it anew, as the results of the united wisdom of the country—”

“Or, as public opinion. We make great account of reason in all our affairs, invariably calling ourselves the most enlightened nation on earth; but then we are especially averse to anything like an insulated effort of the mind, which is offensive, anti-republican, aristocratic and dangerous. We put all our trust in this representation of brains, which is singularly in accordance with the fundamental base of our society, as you must perceive.”

“We are a commercial people, too,” put in the brigadier; “and being much accustomed to the laws of insurance, we like to deal in averages.”

“Very true, brother Downright, very true; we are particularly averse to anything like inequality. Ods zooks! it is almost as great an offence for a monikin to know more than his neighbors, as it is for him to act on his own impulses. No—no—we are truly a free and an independent commonwealth, and we hold every citizen as amenable to public opinion, in all he does, says, thinks, or wishes.”

“Pray, sir, do both of the two great political lines send their tails to the same mills, and respect the same general sentiments?”

“No, sir; we have two public opinions in Leaplow.”

“TWO public opinions!”

“Certainly, sir; the horizontal and the perpendicular.”

“This infers a most extraordinary fertility of thought, and one that I hold to be almost impossible!”

Here the commodore and the brigadier incontinently both laughed as hard as they could; and that, too, directly in my face.

“Dear me, Sir John—why, my dear Sir John! you are really the drollest creature!”—gasped the judge, holding his sides—“the very funniest question I have ev—ev—ever encountered!” He now stopped to wipe his eyes; after which he was better able to express himself. “The same public opinion, forsooth!—Dear me—dear me, that I should not have made myself understood!—I commenced, my good Sir John, by telling you that we deal in duplicates, on a hint from nature; and that we act on the rotatory principle. In obedience to the first, we have always two public opinions; and, although the great political landmarks are drawn in what may be called a stationary sense, they, too, are in truth rotatory. One, which is thought to lie parallel to the fundamental law, or the constitutional meridian of the country, is termed the horizontal, and the other the perpendicular line. Now, as nothing is really stationary in Leaplow, these two great landmarks are always acting, likewise, on the rotatory principle, changing places periodically; the perpendicular becoming the horizontal, and vice versa; they who toe their respective marks, necessarily taking new views of things as they vary the line of sight. These great revolutions are, however, very slow, and are quite as imperceptible to those who accompany them, as are the revolutions of our planet to its inhabitants.”

“And the gyrations of the patriots, of which the judge has just now spoken,” added the brigadier, “are much the same as the eccentric movements of the comets that embellish the solar system, without deranging it by their uncertain courses.”

“No, sir, we should be poorly off, indeed, if we had but ONE public opinion,” resumed the judge. “Ecod, I do not know what would become of the most patriotic patriots in such a dilemma!”

“Pray, sir, let me ask, as you draw for places, if you have as many places as there are citizens?”

“Certainly, sir. Our places are divided, firstly, into the two great subdivisions of the ‘inner’ and the ‘outer.’ Those who toe the mark on the most popular line occupy the former, and those who toe the mark on the least popular line take all the rest, as a matter of course. The first, however, it is necessary to explain, are the only places worth having. As great care is had to keep the community pretty nearly equally divided—”

“Excuse the interruption—but in what manner is this effected?”

“Why, as only a certain number can toe the mark, we count all those who are not successful in getting up to the line, as outcasts; and, after fruitlessly hanging about our skirts for a time, they invariably go over to the other line; since it is better to be first in a village than second in Rome. We thus keep up something like an equilibrium in the state, which, as you must know, is necessary to liberty. The minority take the outer places, and all the inner are left to the majority. Then comes another subdivision of the places; that is to say, one division is formed of the honorary, and another of the profitable places. The honorary, or about nine-tenths of all the inner places, are divided, with great impartiality, among the mass of those who have toed the mark on the strongest side, and who usually are satisfied with the glory of the victory. The names of the remainder are put into the wheels to be drawn for against the prizes, on the rotatory principle.”

“And the patriots, sir;—are they included in this chance medley?”

“Far from it. As a reward for their dangers, they have a little wheel to themselves, although they, also, are compelled to submit to the rotatory principle. Their cases differ from those of the others, merely in the fact that they always get something.”

I would gladly have pursued the conversation, which was opening a flood of light upon my political understanding; but just then, a fellow with the air of a footman entered, carrying a packet tied to the end of his cauda. Turning round, he presented his burden, with profound respect, and withdrew. I found that the packet contained three notes with the following addresses:

“To His Royal Highness Bob, Prince of Wales, etc., etc., etc.”

“To My Lord High Admiral Poke, etc., etc., etc.”

“To Master Goldencalf, Clerk, etc., etc., etc.”

Apologizing to my guests, the seal of my own note was eagerly opened. It read as follows:

“The Right Honorable the Earl of Chatterino, lord of the bed-chamber in waiting on his majesty, informs Master John Goldencalf, clerk, that he is commanded to attend the drawing-room, this evening, when the nuptial ceremony will take place between the Earl of Chatterino and the Lady Chatterissa, the first maid of honor to Her Majesty the Queen.

“N. B. The gentlemen will appear full dress.”

On explaining the contents of my note to the judge, he informed me that he was aware of the approaching ceremony, as he had also an invitation to be present, in his official character. I begged, as a particular favor, England having no representative at Leaphigh, that he would do me the honor to present me, in his capacity of a foreign minister. The envoy made no sort of objection, and I inquired as to the costume necessary to be observed; as, so far as I had seen, it was good-breeding at Leaphigh to go naked. The envoy had the goodness to explain, that, although, in point of mere attire, clothing was extremely offensive to the people of both Leaphigh and Leaplow, yet, in the former country, no one could present himself at court, foreign ministers excepted, without a cauda. As soon as we understood each other on these points, we separated, with an understanding that I was to be in readiness (together with my companions, of whose interest I had not been forgetful) to attend the envoy and the brigadier, when they should call for me, at an hour that was named.