I   WAS greatly interested in the method of government which I discovered to obtain in the Empire of Monomotapa during my last visit there. I say “during my last visit” because although, as everyone knows, I have repeatedly travelled in the more distant provinces of that State, I had never spent any time to speak of in the capital until I delayed there last month for the purpose of visiting a friend of mine who is one of the State Assessors. He was good enough to explain to me many details of their Constitution which I had not yet grasped, and I conceive it—now that I have a full comprehension of it—to be as wise a method of governing as it is a successful one. I must first put before the reader the elements of the matter. Every citizen in Monomotapa takes a certain fixed rank in the State; for the inhabitants of that genial clime have at once too much common sense and too strict a training to talk nonsense about equality or any other similar metaphysical whimsey. Every man, therefore, can precisely tell where he stands in relation to his fellows, and all those heart-burnings and jealousies which are the bane of other States are by this simple method at[122] once exorcised. Moreover, the method by which a man’s exact place is determined is simplicity itself, for it reposes upon his yearly revenue; and there is a gradually ascending scale from the poorest, whose revenue may not amount from all sources to more than 40 Tepas a month, to the Supreme Council, the wealthier members of which may have as much as 10,000,000 Tepas a month, or even more. There is but one drawback to this admirably practical and straightforward way of ordering the State, which is that by a very ancient article of their religion the Monomotapians are each forbidden to disclose to others what the state of their fortunes may be. It is the height of impertinence in any man, even a brother, to put questions upon the matter; all documents illuminating it are kept strictly secret, and though religious vows and binding oaths are very much disliked among this people, yet one is rigidly observed, which is that forbidding the divulgence by a bank of the sums of money entrusted to it by its clients. Certain rash spirits have indeed proposed to destroy the anomaly and either to make some other standard arrange the order of society (which is unthinkable) or else to allow questions of money to be freely debated, and the incomes of all to be matter of public comment.
Now, like many excellent and rational attempts at religious or social reform, these propositions must wholly fail in practice. As for setting up some other standard than that of wealth by which to[123] decide the importance of one’s fellow citizens, the Monomotapians very properly regard such a proposal as fantastic to the point of buffoonery. Nor, to do them justice, do those who propose the scheme seriously intend this part of it. They rather put it forward to emphasise the second half of their programme, which has much more to be said for it. But here a difficulty arises of a sort that often upsets the calculations of idealists, namely, that however much you change the laws you can with more difficulty change the customs of the people, and though you might compel all banking accounts to be audited, or even insist upon every man making a public return of his income, yet it is certain that the general opinion upon this matter would result, in practice, in much the same state of affairs as they now have. Men would devise some other system than that of banks; their returns would be false, and there would be a sort of general unconscious conspiracy among all to support fraud in this matter.
My host next explained to me the manner in which laws are made among the Monomotapians and the manner in which they are administered. It seems that by a fundamental rule of their Constitution no law may be passed in less than twenty-five years, unless it can be proved to have its origin in terror.
If indeed those who are the wealthiest and therefore the most important in the State can prove to the satisfaction of all that they have gone blind[124] with panic, then indeed the passage of a law is permitted even in a few hours. Thus, when a certain number of young gentlemen had so far forgotten their good breeding as to torture by way of sport considerable numbers of the poorer classes, one of these in his turn, oblivious to the rules of polite behaviour, so far forgot himself as to strike his young master in the face. It was under these circumstances, when the greater part of the governing classes had fled abroad, or were closely locked in behind their doors, that the “Tortures Restrictions Bill” was passed; but this haste was even then regarded as somewhat indecent, and it would have been thought more honourable to have discussed the matter for at least two days. Nominally, however, affairs of real importance cannot be legislated upon, as I have said, in less than twenty-five years. It is customary for the Monomotapians first to wait until some neighbouring State has attempted a particular reform. When that reform has been working for some years, if it be successful in its working, the wealthier Monomotapians begin to talk about it according to set rules. And it is again a fundamental point in their Constitution that one-half of those who so debate must be for, the other half against the proposed change. The discussion is carried on by some seventy or eighty men, of whom two-thirds at least must possess a fortune of at least 1000 Tepas a month, but it is customary to mix among them one or two men of exceptional poverty,[125] as this is imagined in some way or other to please the Gods. The middle class, on account of their intolerable habit of referring to learned books and to the results of their travel, are very properly excluded. These, then, debate for a term of years, and when they are weary of it they will very often begin to debate again. Meanwhile the institution or the reform upon which their discussion has turned will have taken root in those foreign countries whi............