Popanilla breakfasted rather late the next morning, and on looking over
the evening papers, which were just published, his eyes lighted on the
following paragraph:--
‘Arrived yesterday at the Hotel Diplomatique, His Excellency Prince
Popanilla, Ambassador Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary from
the newly-recognised State of Fantaisie.’
Before his Excellency could either recover from his astonishment or make
any inquiries which might throw any illustration upon its cause, a
loud shout in the street made him naturally look out of the window. He
observed three or four magnificent equipages drawing up at the door of
the hotel, and followed by a large crowd. Each carriage was drawn by
four horses, and attended by footmen so radiant with gold and scarlet
that, had Popanilla been the late ingenious Mr. Keates, he would have
mistaken them for the natural children of Phoebus and Aurora. The
Ambassador forgot the irregularity of the paragraph in the splendour
of the liveries. He felt triumphantly conscious that the most beautiful
rose in the world must look extremely pale by the side of scarlet cloth;
and this new example of the superiority of art over nature reminding
him of the inferiority of bread-fruit to grilled muffin, he resolved to
return to breakfast.
But it was his fate to be reminded of the inutility of the best
resolutions, for ere the cup of coffee had touched his parched lips the
door of his room flow open, and the Marquess of Moustache was announced.
His Lordship was a young gentleman with an expressive countenance; that
is to say, his face was so covered with hair, and the back of his
head cropped so bald, that you generally addressed him in the rear by
mistake. He did not speak, but continued bowing for a considerable
time, in that diplomatic manner which means so much. By the time he
had finished bowing his suite had gained the apartment, and his
Private Secretary, one of those uncommonly able men who only want an
opportunity, seized the present one of addressing Popanilla.
Bowing to the late Captain with studied respect, he informed him that
the Marquess Moustache was the nobleman appointed by the Government of
Vraibleusia to attend upon his Excellency during the first few weeks of
his mission, with the view of affording him all information upon those
objects which might naturally be expected to engage the interest or
attract the attention of so distinguished a personage. The ‘ancien
marin’ and present Ambassador had been so used to miracles since the
loss of that lock of hair, that he did not think it supernatural,
having during the last few days been in turn a Fantaisian nobleman, a
post-captain, a fish, a goddess, and, above all, an author, he should
now be transformed into a plenipotentiary. Drinking, therefore, his
cup of coffee, he assumed an air as if he really were used to have
a Marquess for an attendant, and said that he was at his Lordship’s
service.
The Marquess bowed low, and the Private Secretary remarked that the
first thing to be done by his Excellency was to be presented to
the Government. After that he was to visit all the manufactories in
Vraibleusia, subscribe to all the charities, and dine with all the
Corporations, attend a dejeuner a la fourchette at a palace they were at
present building under the sea, give a gold plate to be run for on the
fashionable racecourse, be present at morning prayers at the Government
Chapel, hunt once or twice, give a dinner or two himself, make one
pun, and go to the Play, by which various means, he said, the good
understanding between the two countries would be materially increased
and, in a manner, established.
As the Fantaisian Ambassador and his suite entered their carriages, the
sky, if it had not been for the smoke, would certainly have been rent
by the acclamations of the mob. ‘Popanilla for ever!’ sounded from
all quarters, except where the shout was varied by ‘Vraibleusia and
Fantaisie against the world!’ which perhaps was even the most popular
sentiment of the two. The Ambassador was quite agitated, and asked the
Marquess what he was to do. The Private Secretary told his Excellency
to bow. Popanilla bowed with such grace that in five minutes the horses
were taken out of his carriage, and that carriage dragged in triumph
by the enthusiastic populace. He continued bowing, and their enthusiasm
continued increasing. In the meantime his Excellency’s portrait was
sketched by an artist who hung upon his wheel, and in less than half an
hour a lithographic likeness of the popular idol was worshipped in every
print-shop in Hubbabub.
As they drew nearer the Hall of Audience the crowd kept increasing, till
at length the whole city seemed poured forth to meet him. Although
now feeling conscious that he was the greatest man in the island,
and therefore only thinking of himself, Popanilla’s attention was
nevertheless at this moment attracted by, a singular figure. He was
apparently a man: in stature a Patagonian, and robust as a well-fed
ogre. His countenance was jolly, but consequential; and his costume a
curious mixture of a hunting-dress and a court suit. He was on foot,
and in spite of the crowd, with the aid of a good whip and his left
fist made his way with great ease. On inquiring who this extraordinary
personage might be, Popanilla was informed that it was THE ABORIGINAL
INHABITANT. As the giant passed the Ambassador’s carriages, the whole
suite, even Lord Moustache, rose and bent low; and the Secretary told
Popanilla that there was no person in the island for whom the Government
of Vraibleusia entertained so profound a respect.
The crowd was now so immense that even the progress of the Aboriginal
Inhabitant was for a moment impeded. The great man got surrounded by a
large body of little mechanics. The contrast between the pale perspiring
visages and lean forms of these emaciated and half-generated creatures,
and the jolly form and ruddy countenance, gigantic limbs and ample
frame, of the Aboriginal, was most striking; nor could any one view
the group for an instant without feeling convinced that the latter was
really a superior existence. The mechanics, who were worn by labour, not
reduced by famine, far from being miserable, were impudent. They began
rating the mighty one for the dearness of his corn. He received their
attacks with mildness. He reminded them that the regulation by which
they procured their bread was the aboriginal law of the island, under
which they had all so greatly flourished. He explained to them that it
was owing to this protecting principle that he and his ancestors, having
nothing to do but to hunt and shoot, had so preserved their health that,
unlike the rest of the human race, they had not degenerated from the
original form and nature of man. He showed that it was owing to
the vigour of mind and body consequent upon this fine health that
Vraibleusia had become the wonder of the world, and that they themselves
were so actively employed; and he inferred that they surely could not
grudge him the income which he derived, since that income was, in fact,
the foundation of their own profits. He then satisfactorily demonstrated
to them that if by any circumstances he were to cease to exist,
the whole island would immediately sink under the sea. Having thus
condescended to hold a little parley with his fellow-subjects, though
not follow-creatures, he gave them all a good sound flogging, and
departed amidst the enthusiastic cheering of those whom he had so
briskly lashed.
By this time Popanilla had arrived at the Hall of Audience.
‘It was a vast and venerable pile.’
His Excellency and suite quitted their carriages amidst the renewed
acclamations of the mob. Proceeding through a number of courts and
quadrangles, crowded with guards and officials, they stopped before a
bronze gate of great height. Over it was written, in vast characters of
living flame, this inscription:
TO
THE WISEST AND THE BEST,
THE RICHEST AND THE MIGHTIEST,
THE GLORY AND THE ADMIRATION,
THE DEFENCE AND THE CONSTERNATION.
On reading this mysterious inscription his Excellency experienced a
sudden and awful shudder. Lord Moustache, however, who was more used to
mysteries, taking up a silver trumpet, which was fixed to the portal by
a crimson cord, gave a loud blast. The gates flew open with the sound
of a whirlwind, and Popanilla found himself in what at first appeared an
illimitable hall. It was crowded, but perfect order was preserved.
The Ambassador was conducted with great pomp to the upper end of the
apartment, where, after an hour’s walk, his Excellency arrived. At
the extremity of the hall was a colossal and metallic Statue of
extraordinary appearance. It represented an armed monarch. The head and
bust were of gold, and the curling hair was crowned with an imperial
diadem; the body and arms were of silver, worked in the semblance of a
complete suit of enamelled armour of the feudal ages; and the thighs and
legs were of iron, which the artist had clothed in the bandaged hose of
the old Saxons. The figure bore the appearance of great antiquity,
but had evidently been often repaired and renovated since its first
formation. The workmanship was clearly of different eras, and the
reparations, either from ignorance or intention, had often been effected
with little deference to the original design. Part of the shoulders had
been supplied by the other, though less precious, metal, and the Roman
and Imperial ornaments had unaccountably been succeeded by the less
classic, though more picturesque, decorations of Gothic armour. On the
other hand, a great portion of the chivalric and precious material
of the body had been removed, and replaced by a style and substance
resembling those of the lower limbs. In its right hand the Statue
brandished a naked sword, and with its left leant upon a huge, though
extremely rich and elaborately carved, crosier. It trampled upon a
shivered lance and a broken chain.
‘Your Excellency perceives,’ said the Secretary, pointing to the Statue,
‘that ours is a mixed Government.’
Popanilla was informed that this extraordinary Statue enjoyed all the
faculties of an intellectual being, with the additional advantage of
some faculties which intellectual beings do not enjoy. It possessed not
only the faculty of speech, but of speaking truth; not only the power of
judgment, but of judging rightly; not only the habit of listening, but
of listening attentively. Its antiquity was so remote that the most
profound and acute antiquarians had failed in tracing back its origin.
The Aboriginal Inhabitant, however, asserted that it was the work of one
of his ancestors; and as his assertion was confirmed by all traditions,
the allegation was received. Whatever might have been its origin,
certain it was that it was now immortal, for it could never die; and
to whomsoever it might have been originally indebted for its power, not
less sure was it that it was now omnipotent, for it could do all things.
Thus alleged and thus believed the Vraibleusians, marvellous and
sublime people! who, with all the impotence of mortality, have created a
Government which is both immortal and omnipotent!
Generally speaking, the Statue was held in great reverence and viewed
with great admiration by the whole Vraibleusian people. There were a few
persons, indeed, who asserted that the creation of such a Statue was by
no means so mighty a business as it had been the fashion to suppose; and
that it was more than probable that, with the advantages afforded by the
scientific discoveries of modern times, they would succeed in making a
more useful one. This, indeed, they offered to accomplish, provided
the present Statue were preliminarily destroyed; but as they were
well assured that this offer would never be accepted, it was generally
treated by those who refused it as a braggadocio. There were many also
who, though they in general greatly admired and respected the present
Statue, affected to believe that, though the execution was wonderful,
and the interior machinery indeed far beyond the powers of the present
age, nevertheless the design was in many parts somewhat rude, and the
figure altogether far from being well-proportioned. Some thought the
head too big, some too small; some that the body was disproportionately
little; others, on the contrary, that it was so much too large that it
had the appearance of being dropsical; others maintained that the legs
were too weak for the support of the whole, and that they should be
rendered more important and prominent members of the figure; while,
on the contrary, there were yet others who cried out that really these
members were already so extravagantly huge, so coarse, and so ungenteel,
that they quite marred the general effect of a beautiful piece of
sculpture.
The same differences existed about the comparative excellence of the
three metals and the portions of the body which they respectively
formed. Some admired the gold, and maintained that if it were not for
the head the Statue would be utterly useless; others preferred the
silver, and would assert that the body, which contained all the
machinery, must clearly be the most precious portion; while a third
party triumphantly argued that the iron legs which supported both body
and head must surely be the most valuable part, since without them the
Statue must fall. The first party advised that in all future reparations
gold only should be introduced; and the other parties, of course,
recommended with equal zeal their own favourite metals. It is
observable, however, that if, under these circumstances, the iron race
chanced to fail in carrying their point, they invariably voted for gold
in preference to silver. But the most contradictory opinions, perhaps,
were those which were occasioned by the instruments with which the
Statue was armed and supported. Some affected to be so frightened by the
mere sight of the brandished sword, although it never moved, that they
pretended it was dangerous to live even under the same sky with
it; while others, treating very lightly the terrors of this warlike
instrument, would observe that much more was really to be apprehended
from the remarkable strength and thickness of the calm and
peace-inspiring crosier; and that as long as the Government was
supported by this huge pastoral staff nothing could prevail against it;
that it could dare all things, and even stand without the help of its
legs. All these various opinions at least proved that, although the
present might not be the most miraculous Statue that could possibly be
created, it was nevertheless quite impossible ever to form one which
would please all parties.
The care of this wonderful Statue was entrusted to twelve ‘Managers,’
whose duty it was to wind-up and regulate its complicated machinery,
and who answered for its good management by their heads. It was their
business to consult the oracle upon all occasions, and by its decisions
to administer and regulate all the affairs of the State. They alone were
permitted to hear its voice; for the Statue never spoke in public save
on rare occasions, and its sentences were then really so extremely
commonplace that, had it not been for the deep wisdom of its general
conduct, the Vraibleusians would have been almost tempted to believe
that they really might exist without the services of the capital member.
The twelve Managers surrounded the Statue at a respectful distance;
their posts were the most distinguished in the State; and indeed
the duties attached to them were so numerous, so difficult, and so
responsible, that it required no ordinary abilities to fulfil, and
demanded no ordinary courage to aspire to, them.
The Fantaisian Ambassador, having been presented, took his place on the
right hand of the Statue, next to the Aboriginal Inhabitant, and public
business then commenced.
There came forward a messenger, who, knocking his nose three times with
great reverence on the floor, a knock for each metal of the figure, thus
spoke:
‘O thou wisest and best! thou richest and mightiest! thou glory and
admiration! then defence and consternation! Lo! the King of the North is
cutting all his subjects’ heads off!’
This announcement produced a great sensation. The Marquess Moustache
took snuff; the Private Secretary said he had long suspected that this
would be the case; and the Aboriginal Inhabitant remarked to Popanilla
that the corn in the North was of an exceedingly coarse grain. While
they were making these observations the twelve Managers had assembled
in deep consultation around the Statue, and in a very few minutes the
Oracle was prepared. The answer was very simple, but the exordium was
sublime. It professed that the Vraibleusian nation was the saviour and
champion of the world; that it was the first principle of its policy to
maintain the cause of any people struggling for their rights as men; and
it avowed itself to be the grand patron of civil and religious liberty
in all quarters of the globe. Forty-seven battalions of infantry and
eighteen regiments of cavalry, twenty-four sail of the line, seventy
transports, and fifteen bombketches, were then ordered to leave
Vraibleusia for the North in less than sixty minutes!
‘What energy!’ said Popanilla; ‘what decision! what rapidity of
execution!’
‘Ay!’ said the Aboriginal, smacking his thigh; ‘let them say what
they like about their proportions, and mixtures, and metals--abstract
nonsense! No one can deny that our Government works well. But see! here
comes another messenger!’
‘O thou wisest and best! thou richest and mightiest! thou glory and
admiration! thou defence and consternation! Lo! the people of the South
have cut their king’s head off!’
‘Well! I suppose that is exactly what you all want,’ said the innocent
Popanilla.
The Private Secretary looked mysterious, and said that he was not
prepared to answer; that his department never having been connected
with this species of business he was unable at the moment to give his
Excellency the requisite information. At the same time, he begged to
state that, provided anything he said should not commit him, he had
no objection to answer the question hypothetically. The Aboriginal
Inhabitant said that he would have no hypotheses or Jacobins; that he
did not approve of cutting off kings’ heads; and that the Vraibleusians
were the most monarchical people in the world. So saying, he walked
up, without any ceremony, to the chief Manager, and taking him by the
button, conversed with him some time in an earnest manner, which made
the stocks fall two per cent.
The Statue ordered three divisions of the grand army and a
battering-train of the first grade off to the South without the loss
of a second. A palace and establishment were immediately directed to
be prepared for the family of the murdered monarch, and the
commander-in-chief was instructed to make every exertion to bring home
the body of his Majesty embalmed. Such an immense issue of pink shells
was occasioned by this last expedition that stocks not only recovered
themselves, but rose considerably.
The excitement occasioned by this last announcement evaporated at the
sight of a third messenger. He informed the Statue that the Emperor of
the East was unfortunately unable to pay the interest upon his national
debt; that his treasury was quite empty and his resources utterly
exhausted. He requested the assistance of the most wealthy and the most
generous of nations; and he offered them as security for their advances
his gold and silver mines, which, for the breadth of their veins and
the richness of their ores, he said, were unequalled. He added, that
the only reason they were unworked was the exquisite flavour of the
water-melons in his empire, which was so delicious that his subjects of
all classes, passing their whole day in devouring them, could be induced
neither by force nor persuasion to do anything else. The cause was so
reasonable, and the security so satisfactory, that the Vraibleusian
Government felt themselves authorised in shipping off immediately all
the gold in the island. Pink shells abounded, and stocks were still
higher.
‘You have no mines in Vraibleusia, I believe?’ said Popanilla to the
Aboriginal.
‘No! but we have taxes.’
‘Very true!’ said Popanilla.
‘I understand that a messenger has just arrived from the West,’ said the
Secretary to the Fantaisian Plenipotentiary. ‘He must bring interesting
intelligence from such interesting countries. Next to ourselves, they
are evidently the most happy, the most wealthy, the most enlightened,
and the most powerful Governments in the world. Although founded only
last week, they already rank in the first class of nations. I will send
you a little pamphlet to-morrow, which I have just published upon
this subject, in which you will see that I have combated, I trust not
unsuccessfully, the ridiculous opinions of those cautious statesmen
who insinuate that the stability of these Governments is even yet
questionable.’
The messenger from the Republics of the West now prostrated himself
before the Statue. He informed it that two parties had, unfortunately,
broken out in these countries, and threatened their speedy dissolution;
that one party maintained that all human government originated in the
wants of man; while the other party asserted that it originated in
the desires of man. That these factions had become so violent and so
universal that public business was altogether stopped, trade quite
extinct, and the instalments due to Vraibleusia not forthcoming.
Finally, he entreated the wisest and the best of nations to send
to these distracted lands some discreet and trusty personages, well
instructed in the first principles of government, in order that they
might draw up constitutions for the ignorant and irritated multitude.
The Private Secretary told Popanilla that this was no more than he had
long expected; that all this would subside, and that he should publish a
postscript to his pamphlet in a few days, which he begged to dedicate to
him.
A whole corps diplomatique and another shipful of abstract philosophers,
principally Scotchmen, were immediately ordered off to the West; and
shortly after, to render their first principles still more effective and
their administrative arrangements still more influential, some brigades
of infantry and a detachment of the guards followed. Free constitutions
are apt to be misunderstood until half of the nation are bayoneted and
the rest imprisoned.
As this mighty Vraibleusian nation had, within the last half-hour,
received intelligence from all quarters of the globe, and interfered
in all possible affairs, civil and military, abstract, administrative,
diplomatic, and financial, Popanilla supposed that the assembly would
now break up. Some petty business, however, remained. War was
declared against the King of Sneezeland, for presuming to buy
pocket-handkerchiefs of another nation; and the Emperor of Pastilles was
threatened with a bombardment for daring to sell his peppers to another
people. There were also some dozen commercial treaties to be signed, or
canvassed, or cancelled; and a report having got about that there was
a rumour that some disturbance had broken out in some parts unknown, a
flying expedition was despatched, with sealed orders, to circumnavigate
the globe and arrange affairs. By this time Popanilla thoroughly
understood the meaning of the mysterious inscription.
Just as the assembly was about to be dissolved another messenger, who,
in his agitation, even forgot the accustomed etiquette of salutation,
rushed into the presence.
‘O most mighty! Sir Bombastes Furioso, who commanded our last
expedition, having sailed, in the hurry, with wrong orders, has attacked
our ancient ally by mistake, and utterly destroyed him!’
Here was a pretty business for the Best and Wisest! At first the
Managers behaved in a manner the most undiplomatic, and quite lost their
temper; they raved, they stormed, they contradicted each other, they
contradicted themselves, and swore that Sir Bombastes’ head should
answer for it. Then they subsided into sulkiness, and at length,
beginning to suspect that the fault might ultimately attach only to
themselves, they got frightened, and held frequent consultations with
pale visages and quivering lips. After some time they thought they could
do nothing wiser than put a good face upon the affair; whatever might be
the result, it was, at any rate, a victory, and a victory would please
the vainest of nations: and so these blundering and blustering gentlemen
determined to adopt the conqueror, whom they were at first weak enough
to disclaim, then vile enough to bully, and finally forced to reward.
The Statue accordingly whispered a most elaborate panegyric on Furioso,
which was of course duly delivered. The Admiral, who was neither
a coward nor a fool, was made ridiculous by being described as the
greatest commander that ever existed; one whom Nature, in a gracious
freak, had made to shame us little men; a happy compound of the piety
of Noah, the patriotism of Themistocles, the skill of Columbus, and
the courage of Nelson; and his exploit styled the most glorious and
unrivalled victory that was ever achieved, even by the Vraibleusians!
Honours were decreed in profusion, a general illumination ordered for
the next twenty nights, and an expedition immediately despatched to
attack the right man.
All this time the conquerors were in waiting in an anteroom, in great
trepidation, and fully prepared to be cashiered or cut in quarters. They
were rather surprised when, bowing to the ground, they were saluted by
some half-dozen lords-in-waiting as the heroes of the age, congratulated
upon their famous achievements, and humbly requested to appear in the
Presence.
The warriors accordingly walked up in procession to the Statue, who,
opening its mighty mouth, vomited forth a flood of ribbons, stars, and
crosses, which were divided among the valiant band. This oral discharge
the Vraibleusians called the ‘fountain of honour.’
Scarcely had the mighty Furioso and his crew disappeared than a body
of individuals arrived at the top of the hall, and, placing themselves
opposite the Managers, began rating them for their inefficient
administration of the island, and expatiated on the inconsistency of
their late conduct to the conquering Bombastes. The Managers defended
themselves in a manner perfectly in character with their recent
behaviour; but their opponents were not easily satisfied with their
confused explanations and their explained confusions, and the speeches
on both sides grew warmer. At length the opposition proceeded to expel
the administration from their places by force, and an eager scuffle
between the two parties now commenced. The general body of spectators
continued only to observe, and did not participate in the fray. At
first, this melee only excited amusement; but as it lengthened some
wisely observed that public business greatly suffered by these private
squabbles; and some even ventured to imagine that the safety of the
Statue might be implicated by their continuance. But this last fear was
futile.
Popanilla asked the Private Secretary which party he thought would
ultimately succeed. The Private Secretary said that, if the present
Managers retained their places, he thought that they would not go out;
but if, on the other hand, they were expelled by the present opposition,
it was probable that the present opposition would become Managers. The
Aboriginal thought both parties equally incompetent; and told Popanilla
some long stories about a person who was chief Manager in his youth,
about five hundred years ago, to whom he said he was indebted for all
his political principles, which did not surprise Popanilla.
At this moment a noise was heard throughout the hall which made his
Excellency believe that something untoward had again happened, and that
another conqueror by mistake had again arrived. A most wonderful being
galloped up to the top of the apartment. It was half man and half horse.
The Secretary told Popanilla that this was the famous Centaur Chiron;
that his Horseship, having wearied of his ardent locality in the
constellations, had descended some years back to the island of
Vraibleusia; that he had commanded the armies of the nation in all
the great wars, and had gained every battle in which he had ever been
engaged. Chiron was no less skilful, he said, in civil than in
military affairs; but the Vraibleusians, being very jealous of allowing
themselves to be governed by their warriors, the Centaur had lately
been out of employ. While the Secretary was giving him this information
Popanilla perceived that the great Chiron was attacking the combatants
on both sides. The tutor of Achilles, Hercules, and Aeneas, of course,
soon succeeded in kicking them all out, and constituted himself chief
and sole Manager of the Statue. Some grumbled at this autocratic conduct
‘upon principle,’ but they were chiefly connections of the expelled.
The great majority, wearied with public squabbles occasioned by private
ends, rejoiced to see the public interest entrusted to an individual who
had a reputation to lose. Intelligence of the appointment of the Centaur
was speedily diffused throughout the island, and produced great and
general satisfaction. There were a few, indeed, impartial personages,
who had no great taste for Centaurs in civil capacities, from an
apprehension that, if he could not succeed in persuading them by his
eloquence, his Grace might chance to use his heels.