This gentleman assured Popanilla that the
Vraibleusian public were nervously alive to anything connected with
discovery; that so ardent was their attachment to science and natural
philosophy that voyages and travels were sure to be read with eagerness,
particularly if they had coloured plates. Popanilla was charmed with
the proposition, but blushingly informed the mercantile Maecenas that he
did not know how to write. The publisher told him that this
circumstance was not of the slightest importance; that he had never for
a moment supposed that so sublime a savage could possess such a vulgar
accomplishment; and that it was by no means difficult for a man to
publish his travels without writing a line of them.
Popanilla having consented to become an author upon these terms, the
publisher asked him to dine with him, and introduced him to an
intelligent individual. This intelligent individual listened
attentively to all Popanilla's adventures. The Captain concealed
nothing. He began with the eternal lock of hair, and showed how
wonderfully this world was constituted, that even the loss of a thing
was not useless; from which it was clear that Utility was Providence.
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