Shortly after the sailing of the great fleet the Private Secretary
engaged in a speculation which was rather more successful than any
one contained in his pamphlet on ‘The Present State of the Western
Republics.’
One morning, as he and Popanilla were walking on a quay, and
deliberating on the clauses of the projected commercial treaty between
Vraibleusia and Fantaisie, the Secretary suddenly stopped, as if he had
seen his father’s ghost or lost the thread of his argument, and asked
Popanilla, with an air of suppressed agitation, whether he observed
anything in the distance. Popanilla, who, like all savages, was
long-sighted, applying to his eye the glass which, in conformity to the
custom of the country, he always wore round his neck, confessed that he
saw nothing. The Secretary, who had never unfixed his glass nor moved
a step since he asked the question, at length, by pointing with his
finger, attracted Popanilla’s attention to what his Excellency conceived
to be a porpoise bobbing up and down in the waves. The Secretary,
however, was not of the same opinion as the Ambassador. He was not very
communicative, indeed, as to his own opinion upon this grave subject,
but he talked of making farther observations when the tide went down;
and was so listless, abstracted, and absent, during the rest of their
conversation, that it soon ceased, and they speedily parted.
The next day, when Popanilla read the morning papers, a feat which he
regularly performed, for spelling the newspaper was quite delicious to
one who had so recently learned to read, he found that they spoke of
nothing but of the discovery of a new island, information of which had
been received by the Government only the preceding night. The Fantaisian
Ambassador turned quite pale, and for the first time in his life
experienced the passion of jealousy, the green-eyed monster, so called
from only being experienced by green-horns. Already the prominent state
he represented seemed to retire to the background. He did not doubt
that the Vraibleusians were the most capricious as well as the most
commercial nation in the world. His reign was evidently over. The new
island would send forth a Prince still more popular. His allowance
of pink shells would be gradually reduced, and finally withdrawn. His
doubts, also, as to the success of the recent expedition to Fantaisie
began to revive. His rising reminiscences of his native land, which,
with the joint assistance of popularity and philosophy, he had hitherto
succeeded in stifling, were indeed awkward. He could not conceive his
mistress with a page and a poodle. He feared much that the cargo was not
well assorted. Popanilla determined to inquire after his canoe.
His courage, however, was greatly reassured when, on reading the second
edition, he learned that the new island was not of considerable size,
though most eligibly situate; and, moreover, that it was perfectly void
of inhabitants. When the third edition was published he found, to
his surprise, that the Private Secretary was the discoverer of this
opposition island. This puzzled the Plenipotentiary greatly. He read
on; he found that this acquisition, upon which all Vraibleusia was
congratulated in such glowing terms by all its journals, actually
produced nothing. His Excellency began to breathe; another paragraph,
and he found that the rival island was, a rock! He remembered the
porpoise of yesterday. The island certainly could not be very large,
even at low water. Popanilla once more felt like a Prince: he defied all
the discoverers that could ever exist. He thought of the great resources
of the great country he represented with proud satisfaction. He waited
with easy, confidence the return of the fleet which had carried out the
most judicious assortment with which he had ever been acquainted to
the readiest market of which he had any knowledge. He had no doubt his
mistress would look most charmingly in a barege. Popanilla determined to
present his canoe to the National Museum.
Although his Excellency had been in the highest state of astonishment
daring his whole mission to Vraibleusia, it must be confessed, now that
he understood his companion’s question of yesterday, he particularly
stared. His wonder was not decreased in the evening, when the
‘Government Gazette’ appeared. It contained an order for the immediate
fortification of the new island by the most skilful engineers, without
estimates. A strong garrison was instantly embarked. A Governor, and a
Deputy-Governor, and Storekeepers, more plentiful than stores, were to
accompany them. The Private Secretary went out as President of Council.
A Bishop was promised; and a complete Court of Judicature, Chancery,
King’s Bench, Common Pleas, and Exchequer, were to be off the next
week. It is only due to the characters of courtiers, who are so often
reproached with ingratitude to their patrons, to record that the Private
Secretary, in the most delicate manner, placed at the disposal of his
former employer, the Marquess Moustache, the important office of Agent
for the Indemnity Claims of the original Inhabitants of the Island;
the post being a sinecure, the income being considerable, and local
attendance being unnecessary, the noble Lord, in a manner equally
delicate, appointed himself.
‘Upon what system,’ one day inquired that unwearied political student,
the Fantaisian Ambassador, of his old friend Skindeep, ‘does your
Government surround a small rock in the middle of the sea with
fortifications, and cram it full of clerks, soldiers, lawyers, and
priests?’
‘Why, really, your Excellency, I am the last man in the world to answer
questions; but I believe we call it THE COLONIAL SYSTEM!’
Before the President, and Governor, and Deputy-Governor, and
Storekeepers had embarked, the Vraibleusian journals, who thought
that the public had been satiated with congratulations on the Colonial
System, detected that the present colony was a job. Their reasoning was
so convincing, and their denunciations so impressive, that the Managers
got frightened, and cut off one of the Deputy-Storekeepers. The
President of Council now got more frightened than the Managers. He was
one of those men who think that the world can be saved by writing a
pamphlet. A pamphlet accordingly appeared upon the subject of the new
colony. The writer showed that the debateable land was the most valuable
acquisition ever attained by a nation famous for their acquisitions;
that there was a spring of water in the middle of the rock of a
remarkable freshness, and which was never dry except during the summer
and the earlier winter months; that all our outward-bound ships would
experience infinite benefit from this fresh water; that the scurvy would
therefore disappear from the service; and that the naval victories
which the Vraibleusians would gain in future wars would consequently be
occasioned by the present colony. No one could mistake the felicitous
reasoning of the author of ‘The Present State of the Western Republics!’
About this time Popanilla fell ill. He lost his appetite and his
spirits, and his digestion was sadly disordered. His friends endeavoured
to console him by telling him that dyspepsia was the national disease
of Vraibleusia; that its connection with civil and religious liberty
was indissoluble; that every man, woman, and child above fifteen in the
island was a martyr to it; that it was occasioned by their rapid mode of
despatching their meals, which again was occasioned by the little time
which the most active nation in the world could afford to bestow upon
such a losing business as eating.
All this was no consolation to a man who had lost his appetite; and so
Popanilla sent for a gentleman who, he was told, was the most eminent
physician in the island. The most eminent physician, when he arrived,
would not listen to a single syllable that his patient wished to address
to him. He told Popanilla that his disorder was ‘decidedly liver;’ that
it was occasioned by his eating his meat before his bread instead of
after it, and drinking at the end of the first course instead of the
beginning of the second; that he had only to correct these ruinous
habits, and that he would then regain his tone.
Popanilla observed the instructions of the eminent physician to the very
letter. He invariably eat his bread before his meat, and watched the
placing of the first dish of the second course upon the table ere he
ventured to refresh himself with any liquid. At the end of a week he was
infinitely worse.
He now called in a gentleman who was recommended to him as the most
celebrated practitioner in all Vraibleusia. The most celebrated
practitioner listened with great attention to every particular that
his patient had to state, but never condescended to open his own mouth.
Popanilla was delighted, and revenged himself for the irritability
of the eminent physician. After two more visits, the most celebrated
practitioner told Popanilla that his disorder was ‘unquestionably
nervous;’ that he had over-excited himself by talking too much; that in
future he must count five between each word he uttered, never ask any
questions, and avoid society; that is, never stay at an evening party on
any consideration later than twenty-two minutes past two, and never be
induced by any persuasion to dine out more than once on the same day.
The most celebrated practitioner added that he had only to observe these
regulations, and that he would speedily recover his energy.
Popanilla never asked a question for a whole week, and Skindeep never
knew him more delightful. He not only counted five, but ten, between
every word he uttered; and determining that his cure should not be
delayed, whenever he had nobody to speak to he continued counting. In a
few days this solitary computation brought on a slow fever.
He now determined to have a consultation between the most eminent
physician and the most celebrated practitioner. It was delightful to
witness the meeting of these great men. Not a shade of jealousy dimmed
the sunshine of their countenances. After a consultation, they agreed
that Popanilla’s disorder was neither ‘liver,’ nor ‘nervous,’ but
‘mind:’ that he had done too much; that he had overworked his brain;
that he must take more exercise; that he must breathe more air; that he
must have relaxation; that he must have a change of scene.
‘Where shall I go?’ was the first question which Popanilla had sent
forth for a fortnight, and it was addressed to Skindeep.
‘Really, your Excellency, I am the last man in the world to answer
questions; but the place which is generally frequented by us when we are
suffering from your complaint is Blunderland.’
‘Well, then, to Blunderland let us go!’
Shortly before Popanilla’s illness he had been elected a member of the
Vraibleusian Horticultural Society, and one evening he had endeavoured
to amuse himself by reading the following CHAPTER ON FRUIT.