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.

the end