bians live may be described as an aristocratic republic, with a monarchical name.
And here, I fear, I shall not be believed when I describe the kind of monarchy that exists in Colymbia. The monarchy is purely fictitious; the king is a roi fainéant being, in fact, neither more or less than a gigantic turtle, which is kept in a handsome house, has a train of highly-salaried officials to wait on him, and has his big carapace elaborately ornamented with engraving, polishing and gilding, so that he really looks a most royal reptile, and plays and looks his part to perfection in those rare ceremonies in which his presence is supposed to be required.
The government of Colymbia has always been monarchical, but its sovereigns have not always been turtles. On the contrary, they were originally powerful, in fact despotic kings, ruling often with a rod of iron, and acting according to their own will and pleasure, issuing edicts, making new laws, abrogating old ones, condemning to death or pardoning, just as they chose.
But as education and intelligence advanced, the educated and intelligent classes contrived to get the management of the government more and more into their own hands. Bit by bit the power of the king passed into the hands of the people, until at last it was completely absorbed by them. A parliament or diet, nominally elected by the whole male population of the state, became the sole depository of authority. This parliament is divided into two parties, and whichever party has the majority, chooses one of its own number to be the chief of the government. This chief chooses his own ministers always from among those of the party of the majority, and the chief rules
