George W. Bell

And it was decreed that the lives of those who wrought should be spared.

As Leo Bergin, before he retired, himself took a deep interest in all industrial affairs, he reported Oseba in profusive detail as the labor situation of Zelania was discussed.

There had been an intermission and lunch, and the audience, feeling refreshed, showed deep interest in a problem, the solution of which had taxed the best energies of the ablest statesmen in many countries for many generations. As a text for his pleasing sermon, Oseba said:—

“To you, my children, to the Shadowas of Cavitorus, it will seem strange, but among the Christian Outeroos there is industrial confusion about everywhere, with little prospect of early harmony—for Zelania alone is a land without strikes, without class hatred, and, of those having parliaments, without a labor party in the legislature.”

I conclude from the notes:—

Zelania was settled by an excellent class of people, and though too much of the better lands, as before remarked, were at first allowed to fall into few hands, influenced by the isolation and distance from the scenes that created the old precedent, by the novelty of the environment, from the necessities of discovering new expedients to satisfy the new demands or conditions, and from the quickening influence of new competition in a new, free, and exhilarating climate, there was a rush of brains to the head in Zelania, and a new shuffle of the cards was called.

Where none were rich, and all had to hustle, the “grafter” was respected. A community of interests arose, and he who wrote and he who wrought marched shoulder to shoulder, choosing from among themselves the instruments or servants through which the public conscience should find expression in law.

In questions of colonial policy, none invoked the “shades of honored sires,” none appealed to the “experience of the ages,” none asked or cared what Britain or America was doing, but “how can we construct the most comfortable edifice from the material at hand?” was the problem they sought to solve.

If all those who have prayed, struggled, fought, and died for liberty, from Otanes, the Persian, down to the swarthy sons of Cuba or the Philippines, could behold this scene, they might well say—not in the words of Mr. Oseba—“Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation.”

In Zelania there were no class contests. There was no social revolution in the story, but the people “rose to the occasion,” they looked around inquiringly, yielded to the logic of the situation, and—were.

Boiling fountains

Boiling Fountains, Lake Rotomahana.

Here the people saw clearly the fundamental theory, or basic essentials of production. Here they saw Nature’s treasure-house filled with tempting rewards, and they soon realised that toil was the open sesame to which Nature responded promptly, and with a lavish hand.

They saw that “labor and land,” after a long divorce, must re-wed—for the children’s sake—and that “wealth,” instead of being a partial god that sprang from magic caves to aid the cunning in squeezing humanity, was really but the savings or net products of “yesterday’s” toil, and capital but that part of wealth devoted to improving the implements with which toil may more easily coin more wealth from the stores of material, offered by Nature free to her inquiring children. Who “corners” the raw material, insults dame Nature, and assassinates liberty.

There being some considerable unanimity of feeling on these questions in Zelania, it was deemed wise to arrange some equitable rules for the working of the various factors, cogs, wheels and pulleys of this complex machine. Of course, a few persons who felt strongly that they were entitled to complimentary passes to all the public entertainments objected; but these gentlemen were asked to stand by and “hold the ’phone” while the inquiry was being made.

Mr. Oseba said: “So near is the Government of Zelania to the doors of the people that the laws are really but the recorded conclusions of the community.”

The people had learned—I conclude from the notes—that in all countries and in all ages, a monopolisation of the land with legal privileges had resulted in insolent class distinctions, poverty, misery, and oppression, and they proposed to take up a collection, and erect a new lighting-plant. For—

Not for booty came the Briton, but for a home;
And he built a State, from foundation to dome.
In honor of his sire he “grew.” To the “old chimes”
He listened, but he hewed and carved, to fit the “times.”
As oracles, he inquired of “Justice.” “Glory”
To him was naught, “but works,” said he, “live in story.”

Mr. Oseba reminded his audience of the rules regulating land tenure and “settlement,” which held in view the broadening of the base of the social pyramid, and he said the labor laws were but extending the same principles to other members of the productive or industrial machines.

“The labor laws of Zelania,” says he, “are unique; but they are only ‘unique’ in ignoring the ‘experience of darker ages,’ in their purpose to equitably distribute the burdens and profits of industry, and in the desire of the framers to secure permanent industrial peace and intelligent social co-operation.

“The labor laws of Zelania may be said to be but rules provided for the better understanding between, and the better security of the employer and employee, as joint promoters of industrial enterprise, and nowhere is the holder of wealth given an undue advantage over the creator of wealth.

“The labor legislation of Zelania comprises about thirty-five distinct Acts, and in tone they are usually almost more advisory than mandatory. There are no general laws regulating the hours of labor, or providing a minimum wage, but in the interest of open-handed justice, certain courts may exercise considerable power when called upon to settle questions of this character.[D] The labor legislation began in Zelania as early as 1865, in ‘The Master and Apprentice Act,’ and has at least kept pace with the rational demands of the community ever since.

“The labor laws of Zelania, like her industries, have grown gradually with the country’s requirements, as suggested by the industrial unfoldment of the country. As it is an industrial and commercial community, the laws are designed to cover every phase of business activity, to be specific in their directions, simple in their application, and speedy and inexpensive in their execution.”

Uttering a truth, but possibly misquoting, Mr. Oseba remarked:—

“As a despairing statesman once said, ‘Rome realises no danger, nay, she heeds no warning, until the enemy is thundering at her gates, when she must act without deliberation,’ so, in like manner, the industrial Acts of other countries are usually formulated and passed to meet pressing emergencies, while the sagacity of Zelania prepares, not for emergencies, but that emergencies may not arise.

“While labor is the chief factor in the production of all wealth, from a time to which the ‘memory’ of man runneth not to the contrary, the select few, who cunningly possessed themselves of the wealth, have treated with scant courtesy those who created it.

“In Zelania, this ‘time-honored custom’ has been changed, for it has been ordained that he who coins his sweat into the things that administer to human wants, shall not be forgotten by those who coin their cunning into magnets for drawing the price of those things to their commodious pockets.

“In Zelania, my children, people who toil, who build houses, make corkscrews, and grow asparagus, are regarded as considerably human, even outside of Sunday-school and prayer meeting.

“Here the power of one to toil and to produce is considered his capital. His family, in whom the community has an interest, is to be considered and supported from this source, and, if in the employ of another, such a person meets with—or is overtaken by—an accident—his capital impaired—he must be ‘compensated.’[E] This, for a time, seemed a hardship on employers—all changes being hardships—but experience has proven otherwise, for the practice not only produced a nobler ‘fellow-feeling,’ but mutual interest between the employer and the employed.

“Every change necessitates other changes, and every new light exposes some defects that call for improvement.

“In this measure there was a glimpse of justice, but to obviate apparent hardships, the State undertook to insure the laborer, and then it was seen that private companies could find a lot of—financially—healthy exercise in the same line, and thus the industrial machine became more symmetrical.[F]

“To the casual observer, or to him who regards the torch-bearer as an innovator luring away his fetish, and to the wise-looking owl that sits on the cemetery gate hooting at the passing train of progress, these novel experiments seem mischievous and revolutionary; but in the early future, the long-eared politicians of many lands will have to face the inquiry, ‘What has made Zelania the industrial paradise of the world? Give us a smile from her canteen.’

“She is changing the ideal, she is blessing the brick and the mortar of which the Temple of State is built.

“If the State is made for woman and for man,
You should make the man and woman—best you can.

“The fact that for a dozen years, the industrial machine of Zelania has worked smoothly, and that, while in other lands there has been much confusion, she has enjoyed an era of unparalleled progress and prosperity, should be some answer to the fears of those who, because ‘of old’ they made much gains in furnishing Diana with her stage outfit, are now feeling weary.

“However, should these laws fail to satisfy the aspirations of an educated people,” Mr. Oseba argued, “the agents of the ultimate authority would be instructed to adjust them to the popular needs of society, and the new patents would be issued.

“As a fact, of all people the Zelanians alone receive as much from, as they contribute to, their Government.

“I am not sure my children, not very sure, that in all cases these liberal laws have quickened the employee’s stroke. I am not sure that all employees are endowed with sufficient grey matter to appreciate the fact that every security or privilege conferred by law imposes reciprocal obligations. To emancipate a man, should ennoble him.

“A free man should scorn to soil his palm with an unearned penny. The law that raised the eyes of labor did not intend to direct them to the face of the town clock, and the law that forbade an employer demanding twenty shillings worth of work for fourteen shillings in truck goods, never meant that labor should take from its employer a gold sovereign for fourteen shillings’ worth of work.

“Justice and security should elevate the soul, sharpen the sense of right, awaken the energies and quicken the pace of all who fall under these benign influences.

“I am not sure, not very sure, that all the people of Zelania are worthy participators in these noble benefactions; I am only explaining the facts of the situation, the generous sentiment that so largely prevails among the people, and the purposes and intentions of the makers of the law.

“Of course Zelanian statesmen may need to remind the people, that increased effort will be demanded for every opportunity given, and that for personal success, energy, self reliance and hustle must be wholly relied upon, or there may be some misunderstanding.”

Whoever leans heavily upon the Government—not the language of the chaste Oseba—usually gets tired easy, so while it is well to furnish every passenger with a life preserver, the fellow who is too lazy to kick deserves to die at sea, to save funeral expenses.

“But, my children,” says Mr. Oseba, with rather a human smile, “as it is much less wearisome to put on avoirdupois than to put on grey matter, the social millennium has not yet become firmly seated, even in Zelania.”

But, Mr. Oseba, they are steaming up and they will get there all the same, for now that the light has been turned on, the audience will encourage the players to grander performances.

In all changes in life there are sorrows. We come into, and go out of life with pain. In every advance some are left behind, by every improvement some hand is left idle, until it is trained to a new duty. Every economic advance violates some custom under which hoary wrongs found an honored refuge.

But I conclude, from many pages, that Zelania’s labor laws are still imperfect, as the leaders themselves recognise, by further improving them. But she is safe in her situation, and these eternal principles of justice are destined to exercise a wide influence throughout the world, for improved light always gives the whole plant a more symmetrical growth.

To the undeviating progress of the industrial situation of Zelania, the world is indebted, first, of course, to her unparalleled natural conditions, second to the intelligence of her people, then to her progressive statesmen, and especially to R. J. Seddon and the able men who have constituted his political family. These, without tradition, history or precedent, have raised the industrial plane of the country to a condition approaching the social ideal—as per mandate.

Like Bolivar and Lincoln and many other of humanity’s torch bearers, Mr. Seddon, by the force of his own genius, arose from the industrial walks of life. His was not a meteor flight bursting resplendently upon a startled world; but faithfully biding his time, he came prepared, and evidently he came to stay—for the time of his leave-taking has not yet been announced.

Kiwi / Milford Sound

Kiwi. / Milford Sound.

“Mr. Seddon was born a true Briton. He was toughened by colonial experience, his hands were calloused with honest toil, his muscles were hardened with heroic struggles, his intellect was developed by a broad and intelligent observation of interesting events; and he belonged to, arose from, and came forward to serve the people.

“He knew but one rank, that of the free citizen; but one guide, the people’s voice; but one master, that of duty—as he understood the command.

“Well, an upper seat became vacant, and, having a ripe experience in parliamentary affairs, appreciative authority, with inviting tones, remarked, ‘Richard, come up higher,’ and he joined a strong Cabinet. He did his duty as he felt it, and was a part of Zelania’s most progressive laws. He ripened with the ever-changing seasons.

“Events hastened; the public appetite was whetted, and said, ‘More!’ Mr. Ballance, a beloved Premier, foolishly died, a still higher seat was vacant, and again appreciative authority said, ‘Richard, come up higher.’ He became Premier—the most responsible position in any country ruled under the British parliamentary system—in 1893, and for ten years, with the strength of a Hercules, the courage of an Ajax, and the industry of an Ixion, he has courageously worked in extending, amending, pruning and consolidating the industrial rules of Zelania, until the world that first looked on with amusement, and then with inquiring interest, now beholds with admiration the successful workings of an industrial theory that gives hope to humanity.

“He was a product of the times. The opportunities came, and he harmonised the conditions with the interests and the aspirations of his countrymen, and, without the use of an elevator, he has reached the dome of the temple.

“The labor laws, like the land laws, are based upon the enlightened selfishness of the people in their organised capacity, the idea being, not that everyone may, but that everyone must, earn his or her own living—must be a producer and not a pauper, a tax-payer and not a vagrant. This is democracy.

“The people are not kept, but they are allowed opportunities to keep themselves; they are not aided as a charity, but they are enabled, as a right, to earn and to have, and to contribute to the general well-being of the country.

“In Zelania the soil is a basis of wealth; capital and labor are the active factors, and society, for the good of each and all, proposes that these factors shall peacefully pursue the joint enterprise of production, according to the dictates of justice and humanity.

“It is selfish, of course. Capital must be secure, and industry must necessarily move her tireless wheels. Then society, as a whole, having an interest in each of its members, and a stake in the proceeds, must be the arbiter in all industrial disputes, and the interested parties, being loyal members of the social compact, must yield obedience to the public will.”

Well, that is worth embalming!

They numbered the people. If high or low,
Was not worth asking; enough to know
That each had wants; and, that all might live,
Those receiving must willingly give.
Then strove they in love, and not in hate,
To build for aye this matchless State;
For they knew that a temple could not endure
That enriched the baron, and crushed the poor.

“Society,” continued the sage, “made up of the industrial cells, requires the security of every shilling, the service of every member, and the peaceful co-operation of all the factors in every industrial enterprise, and as it has not yet been determined how much of our imagined ‘natural rights’ we may be called upon to yield for the general good, the passionless decision of the public will, for the time being at least, must be the only guide.

“Under the benign Ægis of a rule, bearing the lengthened legend, ‘The Industrial Conciliation and Arbitration Act,’ there serenely reposes the most perfect industrial security known in this discontented world. The Labour Laws of Zelania may be ‘experimental,’ but they sprang from the soul of the public conscience, they were moulded by a desire to secure impartial justice, and for many years they have given a degree of industrial peace, stability, and prosperity, that has won the favour of the general citizenship, and is now exciting the surprise and winning the admiration of the world.

“Then, to cap the climax, my children,” said Mr. Oseba, “of all the measures ever calculated to confirm the claims of the Master as to the ‘brotherhood’ of man, it has been ordained in Zelania that, under liberal provisions, all persons above the full age of sixty-five years, shall be entitled to a life pension.”

In harmony with other liberal legislation, support for these measures was asked, Oseba informs his people, not as a matter of charity, but of justice, for it seems to have been held that as members of an industrial community, all worthy persons were supposed to have entitled themselves to a living, and that those who found themselves indigent at that age, had either met with misfortune, or had failed to receive a just equivalent for his or her contribution to the public wealth. There, it seems to be recognised that the world owes, to all men, a living, and that these pensions are advances made to those who have failed to “collect” what was properly due to them. Rather new.[G]

A public sentiment that, above the taint of charity, coins its “respect for worthy old age” into sovereigns, that may be “demanded as a right,” by the deserving, stands as far above the pious cant of other countries—as philosophy stands above superstition.

Indolence, poverty, sorrow and want are common to human society, and benevolence and charity have been lauded as saving virtues for many ages; but here, where new ideas seem to generate spontaneously, there has arisen a novel notion—that so closely is the world akin, that the very fact of a person having taken the pains to be born, to behave pretty well, to float to Zelania at the proper time and to exist for sixty-five years, justly entitles him or her to £18 worth of annual “respect.”

“This is novel indeed,” says Mr. Oseba, “and this notion, in its conceptions of human relationship, social duty and moral responsibility, is nobler than all the sermons—save one—ever preached on this little globe.

“R. J. Seddon is no saint; I am told, my children, he gets angry, he storms, and he may use cuss words, but no poet, priest or philanthropist ever uttered nobler thoughts than he, in his championship of this progressive measure. Only the dreamer can realise the far-reaching moral grandeur, not of the measure itself, but of the lofty sentiment upon which it is based—and the Premier claimed to speak ‘for the people.’

“Considering the general backwardness of the Outeroos in breaking old traditions and especially in the direction of a greater recognition of human brotherhood, or the rights of the individual as a unit of society, the Zelanians have another rule, even more surprising, as you will see, for it is not only the offspring of a sentiment or idea, as novel in its nobility of conception as that upon which grew the old age pension, but it is so radical a departure from old British customs, as to startle a student with its audacious demands.

“In the older lands the desire, as well as the custom, is to erect commanding fortunes and to perpetuate wealthy and powerful families—though many of the kindred struggle through miserable lives in poverty; but in Zelania, should a person who contemplates permanent ‘retirement,’ endeavor by will or ‘last testament,’ to leave all his belongings to the ‘white headed boy,’ or otherwise fail to provide, according to his means, for the ‘proper maintenance and support’ of any of his dependents, the Courts ‘may go back of the returns,’ inquire into the matter, practically annul ‘said will,’ and make such provisions as ‘shall seem fit,’ according to the demands of open-handed justice.

“Zelania recognises every person as an integral part of the social group, with reciprocal rights and duties. An individual may pray with and prey upon the community and acquire ‘much riches,’ and, as the legal custodian of this ‘lucre,’ he has considerable latitude; but, as a fact, he is only a trustee, and when he leaves his money in this world—lest it should melt—he is not allowed to deprive any of his dependents who may remain for a time as members of the community, of all ‘consolation’ for his departure.[H]

“Contrary to the general notions of outside barbarians, the advanced legislation in Zelania is not the result of an erratic temperament, but of advanced thought, of a nobler conception of human duty, and a higher ideal of social progress.

“Zelania as a social entity is not a commanding empire. She points to no glorious traditions, to no rivers of blood, to no ancient splendors with ruined aqueducts, fallen columns or ivy-grown temples; no chained captives and moss-grown universities, where hoots the hooded owl; but representing a new phase of intellectual aspiration, her sturdy statesmen have planted the banner of social progress beyond the dreams of other lands, and they have made her the most interesting, the most hopeful, and, socially, the most conspicuous spot on the broad surface of Oliffa.”

Eloquent in his recital, Mr. Oseba closed this topic:—

“The time is hurriedly coming, my children, when the statues of Zelanian statesmen who have pushed to their full realisation the noble principles, towards which humanity has been vainly struggling for countless ages, will adorn the most popular niches, galleries, and squares of the world’s most civilised centres.”

SOME PLEASANT OUTINGS.

Here Mr. Oseba runs off on a pleasing tangent, and he leads us to the conclusion that a tour of Zelania is a jaunt of unrivalled pleasure; so full of change, of variety and surprising incidents, that curiosity lashes one forward, and physical vigor so rapidly improves as to banish all thought of weariness. On these tours good health is actually “catching,” and the appetite always arrives before meal time.

He describes in interesting detail the ease, safety and comfort, as well as the jocund hilarity, of these kaleidoscopic gyrations, and how easily, with a word and a wire from Mr. T. E. Donne, the candid and competent tourist manager, one may find the path to the noblest scenes.

“That time may not hang heavily on the spring bathers, millions of fish—better than Peter ever hauled from the Sea of Galilee—are waiting in many lakes for the tempting fly, and if one tires of glacier climbing in the South, the woods are full of red deer, and other nimble game, waiting to give him a wilder sport.

“As for climate, I conclude that one may choose that as he chooses his drinks, for he may have sunshine or shower, chilling glacier or burning valley, frozen or boiling lakes, simply by switching on or off a new path. The weather is ‘almost always’ good, and as one may dodge a storm by going fishing, instead of going mountain climbing, or a hot wave by stalking deer instead of hunting geysers or Maori maidens, bad weather is not worth talking about.”

Then he turns the globe and shows that Zelania is in the Southern Hemisphere, and he expects that as soon as his discoveries are made known, many thousands of people—to avoid the severe cold winters of Europe and America—will spend a season of eternal spring among those romantic scenes. Here Mr. Oseba grows eloquent. I quote:—

“As bare-handed Nature, by her almost infinite allurements, spanked the rude savage of Zelania into an eloquent politician, so she improves upon every animal turned loose upon her palpitating bosom. Bring a little starved rabbit to Zelania—well, it does not become a tiger the same afternoon, but it soon begins business, and in a brief period it has the ‘lord of creation’ on the defensive—for it is eating him out.

“The offspring of every animal, every bird, every lake, brook or river fish, brought to Zelania, in a very short time greatly improves in size and beauty. Well, so it is with people.”

ENCORE ZELANIA.

The notes of Leo Bergin record no sign of weariness, either on the part of the audience or the orator. The sittings had been prolonged, but a cheerful and most intelligent interest seemed to have been preserved throughout, and the closing scenes in the review of Zelania had almost aroused enthusiasm. The curtain had been rolled down for a brief intermission, and as it was known that the last act was now to be staged, all the anxiety and freshness of a new sitting were manifest in the audience.

The lantern appliances had been removed, and it was evident that the conclusions of these unique proceedings were very near. The notes say:—

“Oseba arose, and when he stepped to the footlights, and indicated his readiness to proceed, he was greeted with an applause well becoming a Boston audience on the appearance of a Webster.”

Here the poetess Vauline, apologising for the interruption at so late a stage in the proceedings, ventured to inquire by what course of reasoning the sage Oseba had reached his conclusions that the Anglo-Saxon was destined to a universal supremacy, and why the Zelanians should now be regarded as the torch-bearers of the future ages?

With a smile of approval Mr. Oseba answered:—

“The question is timely and important. Following the laws of natural progress up to a certain point, survival depends largely on the thickness of the skin and the length of the claws, but, above that point, it is a question of grey matter, and the Anglo-Saxon has brains in his head. Well, the Zelanians are a picked squad on the skirmish line of the Anglo-Saxon legions.”

Here again I “boil down,” and note my own conclusions from Mr. Oseba’s argument:—

The Anglo-Saxon intellect is the product of more than 1,400 years of unparalleled vicissitudes, and by its inherent virtue it has resistless force. Progress is a question of intellectual development, of susceptibility, adaptability, and adjustability of a people, and in the constitution of this racial brain are found all these traits in full measure. Besides, in the Anglo-Saxon character there are found a solid sincerity and love of justice, that inspire a respect and confidence that are irresistible. It is a matter of brain—of ideal.

The ideals of Assyria, Persia, and Babylonia were Empire—military conquest, and we see passing over the stage but kingly splendor, and, as a background, the gods that lashed the people—if there were any—into loyal obedience.

The ideal of Egypt was durability—to eternise the works of kings—based upon a religious idea, and she erected the Pyramids, still the wonder of the world’s wonders.

The ideal of Phoenicia was commerce, and the ship was the type of her realised dream. Here the city was greater than the empire, and the merchant was greater than the king.

The ideal of Greece was beauty—then personal beauty—in form and character. Under the reign of this ideal came her noblest achievements. But the Greek brain was erratic; the Greek heroes were soon deified. The artist came, and when the marble statue became the ideal and also the idol, the Greek philosopher became a sophist, and Greece fell a prey to a more practical race.

The ideal of Rome was power, force and the glamour of Patrician splendor. That the lower orders might fight more bravely for the further aggrandisement of the holy city, they were fed on barley buns and flattered with an imaginary freedom, but the ideal of Rome was force.

The ideals of Venice and Genoa were wealth, luxury and art, and their palaces and cathedrals—still the wonder and admiration of the world—became their realised dreams; but only these, and the folly of the Doge, remain to us.

The ideal of Spain—in her greatness—was royal splendor, propped by the spiritual authority, with subject colonies to furnish places for favorites and revenues for the State.

The ideals of Britain were trade, the factory, the shop, the ship, and the “old family”—to occupy the easy seats. But these British ideals developed individual enterprise, and soon it was discovered that in Britain there were people. Save for a few brief periods in Attica, from the fall of Israel to the rise of Britain the people cut little figure in recorded history.

The ideal of America, say up to the passing of Lincoln, was personal liberty, and under this sentiment she produced some of the noblest characters that ever stood erect and wore the image of God. But the gates were turned in, millions came from afar, the earlier sentiments were perverted, great wealth became the master motive, and dollars have become the national ideal.

All these countries have succeeded, if Mr. Oseba’s arguments are valid, in some measure in developing the “master motive,” or in realising the national ideal.

“Well, my children,” said Oseba, “the force of Zelania as a social leader is also in her ideals, and as the conspicuous happiness and prosperity of a people are the best evidence of a benign rule, the appreciation of her ideals has proved their utilitarian virtues.

“Well, by some exploit in mental gymnastics, the Zelanians have chosen the highest possible ideal, Justice—the enthronement of the individual—and with the inherited instincts of the race and a most favorable environment, it was to be expected that, with the ripening of the yearnings of man, humanity should find its highest type in these Romantic Isles.

“In closing, allow me briefly to recall to your minds a few of the more important features of my argument on these most interesting themes.

“I have reminded you, my children, that liberty never gained a victory in an old, well-established, and wealthy nation.

“I have reminded you that with great wealth and population people become conservative, the rulers cling to inherited power, the wealthy fear change, and the mass, by custom becoming loyal, reform is impossible—or at best, progress is slow indeed.

“I have reminded you that commerce is the basis of modern civilisation, but that only people inhabiting the water-front have ever become sufficiently commercial to materially influence any considerable portion of mankind; and I have reminded you that it was only through the colonial enterprise of commercial nations that the great progressive movements have been carried on.

“Further, I have reminded you that only in the colonies, in new and isolated communities, far removed from central authority, where novel conditions required novel methods, is self-reliance nourished, liberty aroused, and social progress made possible.

“And, I have also further reminded you, that of all the tribes, races, or nations that ever loafed about the earth’s surface, those of Phoenicia, Greece, and Britain were alone capable of breaking away from inherited customs, and asserting freedom of action, or of so adjusting themselves to the requirements of a new environment as to develop a state of society differing materially from that of the old order of things.

“Then, too, I have shown you the social outposts of all the nations, and how improbable it is that they should advance any further by their own inherent force.

“I have reminded you also, that the total or aggregate of human rights is the same in all states, regardless of form or population, that, like elbow-room, individual rights decrease as the numbers participating increase, and that of all things a great population is least to be desired, and an over-population the most to be dreaded.

“But Zelania occupies a unique position. She has no traditions, she has no overlord, no organised trusts, no vested rights in hoary wrongs; she has no withering precedents, no millionaire monopolies howling for victims, and having room for many millions she may bide her time, and if she cares for more people she may make her own selection.

“With her numberless wonders to attract the tourist, her splendid opportunities for profitable industry, and her more wonderful social situation to attract the inquiring thousands from many lands, she will soon become, with sagacious management, the Mecca of the world’s leisured wealthy, and from these will come the best of all ‘invaders.’

“My children, with all these splendid facts, I would not advise the empty-handed to rush to Zelania, hoping to secure an easy livelihood; but no person with an inquiring mind who loves Nature, who feels an interest in the social progress of his race, and who is possessed of moderate means, should allow himself to quit this fair and interesting life, without visiting this most charming of all lands, this paragon of social happiness, this paradise of Oliffa.

“Many of you, my children, after having read my report, and having meditated more deeply upon the pleasures and profits of travel and observation, will make this pleasing visit, and should the hospitable people of Zelania meet any quiet, dignified, well-regulated stranger, who says little, but sees and hears everything, who inquires without criticising, admires without flattery, lends freely to all his friends, and pays his own bills, they may ‘guess’ that he is a ‘gentleman’ from ‘Symmes’ Hole.’

“Measures, my children, the character of which would shock the tender sensibilities of those who assume to be the saviours of society, have vindicated the wisdom of Zelania’s statesmen—by the demonstrated applicability of these measures to the necessities of modern progress.

“Of all spots on the surface of Oliffa, this Zelania is most charming, and of all people on the surface of Oliffa, these Zelanians have made the greatest social advance, and occupy the most favored position for future usefulness.

“Then, with all these masterful advantages, with an ideal country, capable of supporting many millions of people, she holds—with a small number of the choicest of the race—her own destinies in her own hands.

“So, my children, there is hope for the world. Genius has annihilated time and space, commerce has brought humanity so in touch, that the light of inspiration may come from without, and seeing the beacon from afar, the oppressed of many nations will arouse and demand ‘a little more light.’”

Great idea, Mr. Oseba, worthy of the “Poet’s Lore,” for though the watchman on the tower may be slow in gaining a glimpse, his keen eye will finally behold its glowing effulgence.

“Zelania is like unto another prophet, teaching from the mountain top. The blaze of her divine torch is not of a fitful glare, but the genial rays of its steady glow are so spreading over all the earth, that the people of all lands may soon behold and wonder, and inquire, and then emulate.

“Well, my children, the tales of my strange adventures are well-nigh told. The curtain will soon fall, and while the lessons from these happy sittings will remain with us as but fading memories, the wonders of this enchanting land will thrill and fill the inquiring souls of men for all time—for the day of Zelania is just at the dawn.

“Inspired by an inherited instinct, and guided by Anglo-Saxon genius, civilisation has won more victories since the crowning of Victoria than during all the generations from ‘Saul of Tarsus’ to Paul of Pretoria, and Zelania is away in the vanguard of the great progressive social force that is destined to enlighten the brain and unfetter the limbs of humanity.

“It is manifest destiny that Anglo-Saxon aspiration, language, and civilisation should dominate the world. With the realisation of this hope, business interests will prevent war; despotism will be good-naturedly hissed from the stage; Europe will be commercially united; production and exchange will be so adjusted as to employ all willing hands; the arsenals will become factories; the great guns will be stood erect as pillars in historic museums; the muskets will be cast into gas pipes, and swords into sheep-shears, and the gods will look down and smile upon the first generation of truly civilised men!

“Then, at the consummation of these noble purposes, when a monument shall have been erected in honor of those who led in the emancipation of humanity, on the highest tablet on the Temple of Eternal Fame, and in letters of imperishable splendor, shall be emblazoned,—

‘Zelania.’”