TOPOGRAPHICAL
There drifts across my inner vision the image of a strenuous struggle with Utopian constables, the voice that has thrilled terrestrial millions in eloquent protest. The writ of arrest, drifting loose in the conflict, comes to my feet; I impale the scrap of paper, and read—but can it be?—"attempted disorganisation . . . incitements to disarrange. . . the balance of population"
The trend of my logic for once has led us into a facetious alley. One might indeed keep in this key and write an agreeable little Utopia, that like the holy families of the mediæval artists (or Michael Angelo's Last Judgment) should compliment one's friends in various degrees. Or one might embark upon a speculative treatment of the entire Almanach de Gotha, something on the lines of Epistemon's vision of the damned great, when
Romulus was a salter and a patcher of pattens. . . . "
That incomparable catalogue! That incomparable catalogue! Inspired by the Muse of Parody we might go on to the pages of "Who's Who," and even, with an eye to the obdurate republic, to "Who's Who in America," and make the most delightful and extensive arrangements. Now where shall we put this most excellent man? And this? . . .
But, indeed, it is doubtful if we shall meet any of these doubles during our Utopian journey, or know them when we meet them. I doubt if anyone will be making the best of both these worlds. The great men in this still unexplored Utopia may be but village
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