Part 8

"What vessels are these, Captain?" inquired Oriel, pointing to several ships, appearing at different distances in the open sea before them.

"Yonder vessel, whose tall masts are bending before the brisk breeze that fills her sails, is an Algerine merchantman, and has most probably a cargo of dancing masters, cooks, figurantes, and opera singers, which are as much now the chief produce of the people to whom she belongs, as they were a thousand years ago the principal exports of their progenitors. That sombre thing, with the long funnel in the centre of her deck, is very similar to the steamers of which the ancients were so proud, before an improved propelling power was discovered. She belongs to the Abyssinians--a people remarkably slow in adopting the inventions of their more civilised neighbours; she trades from the sea of Babel Mandeb to the Gulph of Guinea, sometimes touching at Madagascar, and the neighbouring islands, and carries passengers, pigs, crockery, and snuff. This rakish looking craft, flying afore the wind like a petrel in a storm, is a free trader with a rich cargo of smuggled merchandise from the continent to the Mauritius; and the big ship yonder, bearing down upon us as if she'd sink every thing that stood in her way, is a man of war belonging to the Liberians--a powerful nation of blacks. All these small fry that are starting up from every point, are merely coasting vessels--government packets,--fishing smacks--pilot boats,--pleasure yachts, and other floaters of a similar nature."

"But what is this?" inquired Oriel, pointing to something of a very strange appearance that was seen at the distance of about three quarters of a mile, making way at a rapid rate towards the shore. They all gazed in that direction, and a most extraordinary spectacle they beheld. At first it seemed like a ball--but as it approached the ship it enlarged, and every one who saw it knew it to be a balloon. How it came there, floating on the waves by itself, many conjectured; but their surprise at its appearance was wonderfully increased, when they observed a man, with his body immersed in the waves, clinging to it, or more probably attached to its fastenings. His peril he endeavoured to make known by screams of the most piercing description; but it was not till the miserable wretch was being rapidly borne past their vessel that the people of the Albatross discovered the full extent of his danger. For at least half a mile behind him the sea was a mass of white smoking foam, which was created by nearly a hundred immense sharks following him with eager speed, lashing the waves with their tails, leaping over each other, plunging, snorting, and displaying the most ravenous desire to catch him in their enormous jaws. Sometimes the balloon ascended a little distance above the sea and then would rapidly descend, plunging the unhappy aeronaut over his head in the salt water; but while the sharks were all striving against each other to make a mouthful of his limbs, it would again ascend, floating swiftly over the surface, bearing its screaming appendant about a foot above his unrelenting pursuers, who continued to follow him struggling furiously with each other, and eagerly snapping at his limbs whenever they approached the surface of the water. It was impossible to render him any assistance, although he passed within a few yards of the ship, he was carried so swiftly along; and on he went, shrieking with agony, now high above the waves--then dashed in beneath them--then flying over the surface, with the horrid expectation of being immediately devoured by the hungry pack by whom he was pursued.

"Scrunch me, if that isn't the most cruel chase I ever saw," exclaimed the captain.

"These sort of accidents are not at all extraordinary," observed Fortyfolios, "and with such things must frequently occur. Balloons are an old invention, and one the least useful for philosophical purposes of any we have received from the ancients. Attempts have been made, attended with success, to get one or several individuals borne by them from an island to an adjoining continent, and from one part of a continent to a part far remote; but as they have found it impossible to control the current of wind met with in certain elevations, and as they can seldom rely upon a current in any one direction lasting for any length of time, they have been able to rise as high as they please, but can never previously fix exactly upon the place of their descent; and it has in many instances occurred, as in the one we have just now observed, that after the aeronaut has made his ascent, a sudden wind takes him in a direction contrary to what he designed, or various currents rising unexpectedly at nearly the same time, he is shifted about to every point of the compass; and when he is obliged to descend, he finds himself floating over some unknown sea, or some wild uncultivated land, hundreds of miles from human assistance, where he is left to endure the conviction that he must either be drowned or starved. A balloon is, in fact, a toy, with which one fool amuses many."

Nothing more was said on the subject, although the dangerous situation of the poor fellow who had attached himself to the balloon was anxiously watched as long as he remained in sight, and the imminent peril in which he was seen: his heart-rending cries, and desperate struggles, long left their unpleasant impression on the memory of all who beheld him.

The bold outline of the coast they were approaching every hour became more apparent: its singular mountain and other landmarks were seen, pointed out, and commented on. Birds flew into the rigging--weeds accumulated before the ship--and stray logs of timber, broken barrels, and pieces of wreck, were continually floating past. The character of the scenery now began to be clearly defined--the lowlands spreading out far and wide into the interior, intersected by numerous railroads, and the mountains holding up their proud heads covered with vegetation nearly to their summits. The more the country became visible, the greater was the evidence it exhibited of a high degree of cultivation, a fruitful soil, and a numerous and industrious population; and as buildings began to be made out, it was observable from their form, numbers, and disposition, that manufactures was a primary object in the estimation of the inhabitants.

"You will find these people a money-getting generation," said the professor to his pupil: "their sole object appears to be to accumulate, and their only idea of the respectability of a person is derived from the proportion of substance he is worth. They never ask, is a man an excellent husband, an exemplary father, or an admirable citizen?--is he distinguished by the attention with which he fulfils his moral duties, or celebrated by the right application of extraordinary talents? they merely inquire how much money he has in his pockets. In fact, when they speak at all of 'a good man,' they allude to some individual imagined to be possessed of a certain amount of available property: money with them is every thing. Respectability means money--reputation or credit means money, and cleverness means money. Money, therefore, is the universal virtue: they who have the most are honoured the most, and they who have it not at all are considered by those who have it, although in ever so small a proportion, as being separated from their fellow-creatures by an impassable chasm, where all that is infamous is thought to dwell."

"And yet they are considered to be a very religious people," remarked Oriel.

"None are more regular in going to church, none are greater respecters of the ceremonies of worship, but of religion they are ignorant," replied Fortyfolios. "Nothing can be more certain than that it is impossible that a pure morality or a sincere devotion can exist, when the heart is filled with one engrossing desire--the accumulation of capital--the very principle of which is selfishness--a feeling incompatible with the social charities of true religion."

"But when did you ever find that any thing like true religion generally existed?" inquired the captain, in a tone approaching sarcasm. "Since the memory of man the faith of the majority has been unvaryingly orthodox, and sticks, like a lobster to its shell, to the old proverb, 'Every one for himself, and the devil take the hindmost,'--and more absurd conduct doesn't exist than some people exhibit, who, after having made money a standard of excellence, condemn to infamy not only those who are not possessed of it, but they who gain it by means not in exact accordance with their notions of the way it should be obtained. Scrunch me, if it don't make one ready to heave one's ballast overboard, when I see the homage paid to a mean-spirited scoundrel, who by chicanery, hypocrisy, avarice, and a horde of other contemptible vices, robs his fellows of a pretty handsome share of plunder; and hear the execrations heaped upon the bolder and better villain, who lays society under contributions in a more open, manly, and daring manner. They pretend to notions of honesty, too, that's the joke. Why a fish would laugh at a thing so ridiculous. The government in their necessity take from the people, and those who can't afford to pay they send to prison--an individual in his necessity takes from another, and the very government who set the example of appropriation punish the appropriator as an offender. Then governments plunder each other, or rather the people of each other; but when any of the people attempt to rob their governments, they judge, hang, draw and quarter the poor wretches without the slightest mercy. Honesty, forsooth! If the whole world were asked what the meaning of the word was, every man would give a different definition, and not only would each contradict the other, but every one would contradict himself. Honesty appears to be of all shapes and all sizes: it will suit all complexions--it will flavour every dish. Honesty is every thing, and yet it is nothing. It is neither fish, flesh, nor fowl--will neither sink nor swim--and is not to be touched, seen, or tasted. Honesty is every where--the greatest rogue is honest to his chosen associates--and yet it is no where, for the desire of appropriation is universal. It is a sort of ghost that only exists in the minds of the superstitious--a mirror that shows any reflection thrown upon it--a sky that all over the world can take every variety of colour. Some call it truth, and lay claim to its possession, although their lives are a continual deceit; some call it justice, and fancy themselves exceedingly just, although they would consign to eternal perdition all not exactly of their way of thinking; and some call it conscientiousness, and are satisfied with their own dealings, when, at the same time, their first thought is for their own personal gratification. But we are entering the bay, and these fellows require looking after." So saying, he suddenly left the group, and began shouting to the crew some orders about the ship.

"Captain Compass has singular notions," remarked the professor: "I should not feel particularly comfortable if I thought he entertained the opinions he expresses. There would be an end to all sense of moral obligations if such ideas became general."

"Oh there is no harm in him," replied Oriel. "He is too frank, too careless, too bold to have any evil intention. It has often appeared to me, though, that the principle we call honesty does not exist either in ourselves or in society to the extent we imagine; and believing such a state of things an evil, I have often wished, but never been able, to find a way in which it could be remedied."

"It is an evil, undoubtedly," here observed Doctor Tourniquet, who had for some time been an attentive but silent listener--"and there is but one way in which it can be completely removed."

"And how is that way to be found?" inquired Oriel Porphyry.

"The cause of this want of a definite unvarying character in our notion of honesty," said the Doctor, "may be traced to the present and past construction of society, where each individual has a separate interest, exists in a state of competition with the others, and must always be endeavouring to shape his own notions of right to his own exclusive advantage: were property a fund in common from which each might be allowed to take what he pleased--there being no individual interests, the world would be one family, and there could be no dishonesty in openly appropriating that to which he had an acknowledged right, don't you see."

"Preposterous!" exclaimed Fortyfolios.

"An impossible state of things, I should think," added his pupil.

"Nothing more reasonable, and nothing more easy," replied the Doctor. "Let every one in a community labour equally according to his physical or mental powers--every kind of labour being productive will produce every thing in abundance--this abundance having been produced must supply every want--every want being gratified at the suggestion of the inclination, there remains nothing to desire--and as all have an equal right to appropriate as much as they require for the gratification of their inclinations, by having equally, according to their abilities, assisted in producing the abundance they enjoy, no desire in which they might think fit to indulge could ever take the appearance of an act of dishonesty, don't you see."

"Ridiculous!" exclaimed the professor.

"But how in the present state of society can you get such notions adopted?" inquired Oriel.

"Either by educating children from the earliest age into the application of these social principles, or by constituting communities apart from the general mass, who will exist within themselves by the same manner of life, till, as the advantages of such a state of society become universally evident, it is adopted by the whole population," said the Doctor.

"The thing has been tried times out of number," remarked Fortyfolios, contemptuously, "and has always lingered a short time and then died, with very little regret on the part of those for whose superior happiness it was created. It is based upon an idea of equality, which idea has no personal existence in nature. No matter how carefully the young mind is schooled, there will always be some superiority somewhere. In muscular energy, in mental power, in ingenuity, in quickness of comprehension, and in the skilful adaptation of means to an end--even in the natural desires and susceptibilities--even in acquired habits of industry, and self-denial, in all societies, some will be found greater than others, and these will endeavour to rise above the equality by which they are surrounded; perhaps they will succeed, and then the homogeneousness of the community is soon destroyed; perhaps they will fail, and then their more exalted natures must be crushed down to the Procrustean bed of their associates. Equality can only be a state of general mediocrity. Could we imagine such a social organisation, what would become of the worship of superior greatness that leads men to become great? With what feelings would exist, could they exist under such circumstances, those commanding intellects whose supremacy should be acknowledged by all who love knowledge, and virtue, and humanity, at finding themselves classed with the mere breaker of the clod, a creature without an idea, whose only quality, that of strength and fitness for a certain labour, he shares with brutes and with machines; who eats and drinks, and sleeps and dies, and then makes room for another of the same class? Must they also become hewers of wood and drawers of water for the benefit of their fellows? With as much probability of a beneficial result might an attempt be made to force the ploughman, the shepherd, the mechanic, and the domestic servant, to become a sculptor, a philologist, a musician, and a philosopher."

What Doctor Tourniquet might have replied, it is impossible now to relate, as the Albatross at that moment was boarded by the port-officers who came to examine the state of health of the ship and the cargo with which she was laden; and as she was expected shortly to drop her anchor among the shipping with which she was now surrounded, those who designed to land proceeded to make the necessary preparations.

CHAP. VII.

CAFFRETON, THE METROPOLIS OF SOUTHERN AFRICA.

In a large heavy building on the banks of a canal in the city of Caffreton, all seemed bustle and confusion: barges were at the water side unloading, and at the land side were waggons being filled with packages for conveyance into the interior by the rail-roads, and others starting off heavily laden to supply the traders in the town and neighbourhood. A considerable number of black slaves were actively employed in assisting the goods from the barges to the stores, and from the stores to the waggons; who jostled, shouted, and chattered apparently with as much noise as they could make; two or three white men were seen among them giving orders in a loud voice to their dark associates, and seeing that their commands were promptly attended to. Under a gloomy archway, which led from the street to the water side were doors opposite each other. One of these, after passing through a long warehouse filled with articles of merchandise of every description, in the midst of which were several slaves of both sexes engaged in weighing, measuring, and packing parcels of various sizes, led into a counting house, in which about a dozen blacks, principally young ones, much better dressed than those in the warehouse, were writing in large books; and beyond this was a much smaller room, furnished with maps and a few cumbrous books, wherein two men were seated opposite each other; one a tall, thin, sharp visaged man about forty, whose features expressed an extraordinary degree of fear and servility, was reading a newspaper, and the other, who appeared considerably older, was short and corpulent, had a dark complexion, and a look of mingled cunning and fierceness, sat leaning back against a huge arm chair, with an open ledger on the table before him.

"Foreign stock rising, eh!" inquired the latter.

"Yes, sir," replied the other, glancing his eye over the paper, "particularly Columbian and Australian."

"How goes the share market?"

"Brisk, sir, in many things--Gondar Railroad at a premium--Congo Canal at 125-3/8--Ashantee Salt Company, 105-1/2--Mocaranga Timber, 109--Biafra Gold Mines, 200."

"Capital!" exclaimed the elder, rubbing his hands together briskly, and his forbidding features assuming an expression of intense gratification. "I shall do well by my speculations there;--but how goes the Madagascar Silkworm Company?"

"Down to 45, sir," replied the thin man.

"Bankrupt and jails! you scoundrel, it can't be," furiously exclaimed the other.

"It is so here, sir," said his companion humbly.

"Then my eternal malediction rest on all silk worms. I've lost some thousands. But you haven't said any thing about the Timbuctoo Beet-root Sugar."

"Down to 22, sir."

"You rascal, you're trying to put me in a passion; you're inventing that, because you know I've invested large sums in that affair. I'll have you whipped like a slave if you don't tell me the truth."

"It is so here, sir," said the man trembling, and turning pale.

"Then the Caffreton Universal Intelligence is a universal liar!" screamed the other in a rage. "Why, if it's true, I've lost all I gained by the indigo and cochineal job. It's a bad business, Mr. Quagga. There's cheating in it! There's ruination in it! I shall be laughed at on 'Change. My solvency will be suspected--my credit diminish;--but go on, Mr. Quagga--go on, I'm perfectly cool--I'm not going to put myself out of temper by such a loss, don't think it. In the name of poverty, why don't you go on, Mr. Quagga?" thundered out the principal.

"Wer--wer--wer--wer--what shall I read next sir?" inquired his servant as plainly as his fright would allow.

"Read the arrivals, you stuttering, stupid blockhead," cried the broker.

"Arrived in the bay, the Sultan from Cairo, Selim, master."

"Nothing for me."

"The Golden Horn, from Stamboul, Mahmoud, master:--twenty chests of opium, consigned by Mandragora and Poppy."

"Send some one to see it warehoused in the docks."

"Yes, sir," said the clerk, respectfully.

"What next?"

"The Hellas, from Smyrna, Mavricordato, master."

"Nothing for me. Cargo of figs and raisins, from Drum and Company."

"The Albatross, from Columbus, Compass, master."

"Look to that, Quagga--look to that. She belongs to Master Porphyry, the richest merchant in the whole world. Her cargo is of great value. By last advices from my correspondent, expect some bales of rich fabrics.--Go on, Quagga."

"There's a paragraph, here, sir, that seems to relate to that vessel."

"Read it, Quagga."

"'In the Albatross, arrived in our harbour, comes the only son of the great merchant, Master Porphyry, whose name is in such high estimation in every part of the civilised world for his wealth and his philanthropy. It is said that he has come out on a commercial voyage, and that it was Master Porphyry's desire that his son should visit some of the most celebrated places of traffic in various parts of the globe.'"

"Very good, except philanthropy, which is all humbug, you know, Quagga," observed the broker, "a bad spec--a dead loss.--We must look after him"--and the face of the master seemed to glance more pleasantly upon his servant.--"Well, what provincial news?" he asked, after a pause.

"'We regret to inform our readers, that the respectable banking house of Mangel Wurzel, Carrots, and Co., at Lattakoo, have stopped payment.'"

"Stopped payment, you rascal!" shouted the broker, his face becoming purple with rage. "How dare you tell me Mangel Wurzel and Co. have stopped payment? It's all a conspiracy--a base invention--a lie--a cheat! You know I've got all the payments made to me per the Springbok--on account of that fine gang of Hottentots--in their wretched paper. I'll have you hanged, you scoundrel, for deceiving me. I'll----"

Here the torrent of his indignation was interrupted by one of the young slaves from the counting-house showing himself at the door.

"Well, you imp of darkness! what do you want?" he cried.

"Cap'ain Gumpas, sar, want to peak wi' you," said the young Hottentot.

"Who, scoundrel?"

"Cap'ain Gumpass, sar, ship Albatross."

"Admit him, instantly."

The slave disappeared, and so did the broker's passion.

In a moment afterwards the door opened, and a tall man, of rather handsome exterior, whom it would have been impossible to have recognised as the Captain Compass of the Albatross, had it not been for a peculiar expression in the countenance--sarcastic, bold, and treacherous--no one could mistake, entered the room. His whiskers had disappeared, the colour of his hair had changed, and he looked a much younger and better featured man than he appeared the day previous. As he advanced, the broker seemed to gaze upon him with fear and wonder.

"Well, old Boor, is this the hail I'm to meet after such a long cruise?" cried the captain.

Boor stared till his yellow eye-balls appeared starting out of his head.

"Dockets and bad bills!" at last he exclaimed, with a long breath, "surely it can't be you!"

"But it is, though, old boy, and I'm afloat in the most slappish style," replied the other.

"But how did you escape, when----"

"No matter," said the captain, interrupting his companion. "I'm come to have a little bit of a confabulation with you about a matter that will enrich us both."