The day fixed for Popanilla’s trial was at hand. The Prince was not
unprepared for the meeting. For some weeks before the appointed day
he had been deeply studying the published speeches of the greatest
rhetorician that flourished at the Vraibleusian bar. He was so inflated
with their style that he nearly blew down the gaoler every morning when
he rehearsed a passage before him. Indeed, Popanilla looked forward to
his trial with feelings of anticipated triumph. He determined boldly
and fearlessly to state the principles upon which his public conduct
had been founded, the sentiments he professed on most of the important
subjects which interest mankind, and the views he entertained of
the progress of society. He would then describe, in the most glowing
language, the domestic happiness which he enjoyed in his native isle.
He would paint, in harrowing sentences, the eternal misery and disgrace
which his ignominious execution would entail upon the grey-headed
father, who looked up to him as a prop for his old age; the affectionate
mother, who perceived in him her husband again a youth; the devoted
wife, who could never survive his loss; and the sixteen children,
chiefly girls, whom his death would infallibly send upon the parish.
This, with an eulogistic peroration on the moral qualities of the
Vraibleusians and the political importance of Vraibleusia, would, he had
no doubt, not only save his neck, but even gain him a moderate pension.
The day arrived, the Court was crowded, and Popanilla had the
satisfaction of observing in the newspapers that tickets for the best
gallery to witness his execution were selling at a premium.
The indictment was read. He listened to it with intense attention.
To his surprise, he found himself accused of stealing two hundred and
nineteen Camelopards. All was now explained. He perceived that he had
been mistaken the whole of this time for another person. He could not
contain himself. He burst into an exclamation. He told the judge, in a
voice of mingled delight, humility, and triumph, that it was possible
he might be guilty of high treason, because he was ignorant of what
the crime consisted; but as for stealing two hundred and nineteen
Camelopards, he declared that such a larceny was a moral impossibility,
because he had never seen one such animal in the whole course of his
life.
The judge was kind and considerate. He told the prisoner that the charge
of stealing Camelopards was a fiction of law; that he had no doubt
he had never seen one in the whole course of his life, nor in all
probability had any one in the whole Court. He explained to Popanilla,
that originally this animal greatly abounded in Vraibleusia; that the
present Court, the highest and most ancient in the kingdom, had then
been instituted for the punishment of all those who molested or injured
that splendid animal. The species, his lordship continued, had been long
extinct; but the Vraibleusians, duly reverencing the institutions of
their ancestors, had never presumed to abrogate the authority of the
Camelopard Court, or invest any other with equal privileges. Therefore,
his lordship added, in order to try you in this Court for a modern
offence of high treason, you must first be introduced by fiction of law
as a stealer of Camelopards, and then being in praesenti regio, in
a manner, we proceed to business by a special power for the absolute
offence. Popanilla was so confounded by the kindness of the judge and
the clearness of his lordship’s statement that he quite lost the thread
of his peroration.
The trial proceeded. Everybody with whom Popanilla had conversed during
his visit to Vraibleusia was subpoenaed against him, and the evidence
was conclusive. Skindeep, who was brought up by a warrant from the
King’s Bench, proved the fact of Popanilla’s landing; and that he
had given himself out as a political exile, the victim of a tyrant, a
corrupt aristocracy, and a misguided people. But, either from a secret
feeling towards his former friend or from his aversion to answer
questions, this evidence was on the whole not very satisfactory.
The bookseller proved the publication of that fatal volume whose
deceptive and glowing statements were alone sufficient to ensure
Popanilla’s fate. It was in vain that the author avowed that he had
never written a line of his own book. This only made his imposture
more evident. The little philosopher with whom he had conversed at
Lady Spirituelle’s, and who, being a friend of Flummery Flam, had
now obtained a place under Government, invented the most condemning
evidence. The Marquess of Moustache sent in a state paper, desiring to
be excused from giving evidence, on account of the delicate situation
in which he had been placed with regard to the prisoner; but he referred
them to his former Private Secretary, who, he had no doubt, would afford
every information. Accordingly, the President of Fort Jobation, who had
been brought over specially, finished the business.
The Judge, although his family had suffered considerably by the late
madness for speculation, summed up in the most impartial manner. He told
the jury that, although the case was quite clear against the prisoner,
they were bound to give him the advantage of every reasonable doubt. The
foreman was about to deliver the verdict, when a trumpet sounded, and a
Government messenger ran breathless into Court. Presenting a scroll to
the presiding genius, he informed him that a remarkably able young man,
recently appointed one of the Managers of the Statue, in consequence
of the inconvenience which the public sustained from the innumerable
quantity of edicts of the Statue at present in force, had last night
consolidated them all into this single act, which, to render its
operation still more simple, was gifted with a retrospective power for
the last half century.
His lordship, looking over the scroll, passed a high eulogium upon the
young consolidator, compared to whom, he said, Justinian was a country
attorney. Observing, however, that the crime of high treason had been
accidentally omitted in the consolidated legislation of Vraibleusia, he
directed the jury to find the prisoner ‘not guilty.’ As in Vraibleusia
the law believes every man’s character to be perfectly pure until a jury
of twelve persons finds the reverse, Popanilla was kicked out of court,
amid the hootings of the mob, without a stain upon his reputation.
It was late in the evening when he left the court. Exhausted both
in mind and body, the mischief being now done, and being totally
unemployed, according to custom, he began to moralise. ‘I begin to
perceive,’ said he, ‘that it is possible for a nation to exist in too
artificial a state; that a people may both think too much and do too
much. All here exists in a state of exaggeration. The nation itself
professes to be in a situation in which it is impossible for any nation
ever to be naturally placed. To maintain themselves in this false
position, they necessarily have recourse to much destructive conduct
and to many fictitious principles. And as the character of a people is
modelled on that of their Government, in private life this system of
exaggeration equally prevails, and equally produces a due quantity of
ruinous actions and false sentiment! In the meantime, I am starving, and
dare not show my face in the light of day!’
As he said this the house opposite was suddenly lit up, and the words
‘EMIGRATION COMMITTEE’ were distinctly visible on a transparent blind.
A sudden resolution entered Popanilla’s mind to make an application to
this body. He entered the Committee-room, and took his place at the end
of a row of individuals, who were severally examined. When it was his
turn to come forward he began to tell his story from the beginning,
and would certainly have got to the lock of hair had not the
President enjoined silence. Popanilla was informed that the last
Emigration-squadron was about to sail in a few minutes; and that,
although the number was completed, his broad shoulders and powerful
frame had gained him a place. He was presented with a spade, a blanket,
and a hard biscuit, and in a quarter of an hour was quitting the port of
Hubbabub.
Once more upon the waters, yet once more!
As the Emigration-squadron quitted the harbour two large fleets hove in
sight. The first was the expedition which had been despatched against
the decapitating King of the North, and which now returned heavily laden
with his rescued subjects. The other was the force which had flown to
the preservation of the body of the decapitated King of the South, and
which now brought back his Majesty embalmed, some Princes of the blood,
and an emigrant Aristocracy.
What became of the late Fantaisian Ambassador; whether he were destined
for Van Diemen’s Land or for Canada; what rare adventures he experienced
in Sydney, or Port Jackson, or Guelph City, or Goodrich Town; and
whether he discovered that man might exist in too natural a state, as
well as in too artificial a one, will probably be discovered, if ever we
obtain Captain Popanilla’s Second Voyage.