“In a late conversation with his majesty, he inquired in the kindest manner after the health of the Great Sachem [this is the title of the head of the Leaplow government], and observed that our growth and prosperity put all other nations to shame; and that we might, on all occasions, depend on his most profound respect and perpetual friendship. In short, sir, all nations, far and near, desire our alliance, are anxious to open new sources of commerce, and entertain for us the profoundest respect, and the most inviolable esteem. You can tell the Great Sachem that this feeling is surprisingly augmented under his administration, and that it has at least quadrupled during my mission. If Leaphigh would only respect its treaties, Leapthrough would cease taking our seamen, Leapup have greater deference for the usages of good society, and the king of Leapover would seize no more of our ships to supply his mistress with pocket-money, our foreign relations might be considered to be without spot. As it is, sir, they are far better off than I could have expected, or indeed had ever hoped to see them; and of one thing you may be diplomatically certain, that we are universally respected, and that the Leaplow name is never mentioned without all in company rising and waving their caudae.”
“(Signed.) JUDAS PEOPLE’S FRIEND.”
“Hon.————-, etc.”
“P. S. (Private.)”
“Dear Sir:—If you publish this dispatch, omit the part where the difficulties are repeated, I beg you will see that my name is put in with those of the other patriots, against the periodical rotation of the little wheel, as I shall certainly be obliged to return home soon, having consumed all my means. Indeed, the expense of maintaining a tail, of which our people have no notion, is so very great, that I think none of our missions should exceed a week in duration.
“I would especially advise that the message should dilate on the subject of the high standing of the Leaplow character in foreign nations; for, to be frank with you, facts require that this statement should be made as often as possible.”
When this letter was read, the conversation reverted to religion. The brigadier explained that the law of Leaphigh had various peculiarities on this subject, that I do not remember to have heard of before. Thus, a monikin could not be born without paying something to the church, a practice which early initiated him into his duties towards that important branch of the public welfare; and, even when he died, he left a fee behind him, for the parson, as an admonition to those who still existed in the flesh, not to forget their obligations. He added that this sacred interest was, in short, so rigidly protected, that, whenever a monikin refused to be plucked for a new clerical or episcopal mantle, there was a method of fleecing him, by the application of red-hot iron rods, which generally singed so much of his skin, that he was commonly willing, in the end, to let the hair-proctors pick and choose at pleasure.
I confess I was indignant at this picture, and did not hesitate to stigmatize the practice as barbarous.
“Your indignation is very natural, Sir John, and is just what a stranger would be likely to feel, when he found mercy, and charity, and brotherly love, and virtue, and, above all, humility, made the stalking-horses of pride, selfishness, and avarice. But this is the way with us monikins; no doubt, men manage better.”