How is such an education to be achieved, however? Perhaps the clearest answer comes from a much later heir to the Speculum Principis tradition: Mark Twain’s The Prince and the Pauper. On its surface, the story is a wild romp featuring a poor boy who bears an uncanny resemblance to King Henry VIII’s son, Prince Edward (later to become Edward VI). Circumstances miraculously orchestrate themselves so that the two boys accidentally switch places, allowing Tom Canty to rule in the prince’s stead while Edward experiences life firsthand on the streets of England. 

Much can be understood about Twain’s purpose in writing the novel when one understands his primary artistic device: the reason Tom and Edward literally look the same is that they are also figuratively the same. There is nothing essential that truly differentiates a prince from a pauper. What actually distinguishes a person is his character, not his crown.

As we follow the careers of the two boys in the story, we bear witness to the education each boy receives. Although no one believes Tom when he insists he is not the prince, the royal court are convinced the prince has gone mad when Tom fails to properly recite his Greek and Latin or demonstrate any knowledge of the rites and customs of his position. Despite Tom’s lack of book learning, however, he reveals himself to be a wise and just ruler when he successfully proves the innocence of a woman and her daughter accused of witchcraft. In the same way, he pardons a man condemned to boil alive as a poisoner because he himself bore witness to the man saving the life of a drowning boy at the time the alleged poisoning took place. Tom then uses his borrowed power to abolish the practice of boiling prisoners alive. In both instances, Tom’s common sense and experience of people provides him with the tools he needs to deliver justice in a way that Latin recitations could not. 

Tom does, however, require a lesson about the gravity of government. Having grown up obsessed with adventure stories and courtly tales, Tom has a romantic vision of princedom. With the little learning he acquires on the streets from a local priest, Tom holds himself higher than his playfellows and is all too eager to parade around in Edward’s royal robes when he gets the chance. It is not until he ignores his mother’s cries to him from the crowd during a royal procession that Tom finally realizes his robes are as “rotten rags” compared to the love of one who knows him as he truly is. Twain writes of the moment, “Royalty had lost its grace and sweetness; its pomps were become a reproach.”

For Edward’s part, while Tom finds himself a prisoner in the castle, the young prince enjoys a grand tour of his kingdom. He finds a companion in Miles Hendon, a down at heel nobleman who protects Edward, now dressed in rags, from those who react violently to the prince’s continued insistence on his title and privileges as heir to the throne. Even though Miles does not truly believe the prince is who he claims to be, he humbles himself and obeys Edward’s commands that Miles help the prince dress, attend him at meals, and remain standing in the presence of royalty. 

Edward is shocked to find that the state of justice in England is dire. His father’s laws are cruel and punishments are disproportionate to crimes committed. He is also shocked to find his subjects will not heed his authority or listen to his wise counsel just because he offers it. It is not until his commandeering performance leads to a sentence of whipping that Edward begins to understand the true corruption of England’s current justice system. And it is not until Miles willingly offers to take the lashes for him that Edward begins to understand the true foundation of respect and authority. “Kings cannot ennoble thee, thou good, great soul,” he says to Miles, “for One who is higher than kings hath done that for thee; but a King can confirm thy nobility to men.” Justice and mercy do not originate in those who govern, but rather leaders merely steward the truth that has been entrusted to them by the One they serve. 

Once he has been rightly restored to his throne as the new King of England, Edward establishes a new era of English justice:

More than once, when some great dignitary, some gilded vassal of the crown, made argument against his leniency and urged that some law which he was bent upon amending was gentle enough for its purpose, and wrought no suffering or oppression which any one need mightily mind, the young King turned the mournful eloquence of his great, compassionate eyes upon him and answered–– “What dost thou know of suffering and oppression? I and my people know, but not thou.”

In their own ways, Edward and Tom each receive a special kind of civic education. Twain seems to suggest that, even though the liberal arts have prepared Edward’s heart and mind for civic responsibility, his education is not complete until he has an opportunity to play the grand ideas he has learned from books against the complex realities of his material kingdom. The result is a humility and mercy that govern Edward’s sense of justice. 

Similarly, Tom learns what Shakespeare tried to convey long before: “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.” To hold a position of power is not as grand and romantic as he imagined from his reading. In the end, government comes down to a fundamental human truth: it is right relationship between individual persons that matters most.