No More Learning

We sent for a copy of a book called the "Dial,"
and read out of it a chapter or two about something that is not very
clear, but which the Bostonians call the Great Movement of Progress.

The Count merely said that Great Movements were awfully common things in
his day, and as for Progress, it was at one time quite a nuisance, but
it never progressed.

We then spoke of the great beauty and importance of Democracy, and
were at much trouble in impressing the Count with a due sense of the
advantages we enjoyed in living where there was suffrage ad libitum, and
no king.

He listened with marked interest, and in fact seemed not a little
amused. When we had done, he said that, a great while ago, there had
occurred something of a very similar sort. Thirteen Egyptian provinces
determined all at once to be free, and to set a magnificent example to
the rest of mankind. They assembled their wise men, and concocted the
most ingenious constitution it is possible to conceive. For a while they
managed remarkably well; only their habit of bragging was prodigious.
The thing ended, however, in the consolidation of the thirteen states,
with some fifteen or twenty others, in the most odious and insupportable
despotism that was ever heard of upon the face of the Earth.

I asked what was the name of the usurping tyrant.

As well as the Count could recollect, it was Mob.

Not knowing what to say to this, I raised my voice, and deplored the
Egyptian ignorance of steam.

The Count looked at me with much astonishment, but made no answer. The
silent gentleman, however, gave me a violent nudge in the ribs with his
elbows--told me I had sufficiently exposed myself for once--and demanded
if I was really such a fool as not to know that the modern steam-engine
is derived from the invention of Hero, through Solomon de Caus.

We were now in imminent danger of being discomfited; but, as good luck
would have it, Doctor Ponnonner, having rallied, returned to our rescue,
and inquired if the people of Egypt would seriously pretend to rival the
moderns in the all--important particular of dress.
The Count, at this, glanced downward to the straps of his pantaloons,
and then taking hold of the end of one of his coat-tails, held it up
close to his eyes for some minutes. Letting it fall, at last, his mouth
extended itself very gradually from ear to ear; but I do not remember
that he said any thing in the way of reply.

Hereupon we recovered our spirits, and the Doctor, approaching the Mummy
with great dignity, desired it to say candidly, upon its honor as
a gentleman, if the Egyptians had comprehended, at any period, the
manufacture of either Ponnonner's lozenges or Brandreth's pills.

We looked, with profound anxiety, for an answer--but in vain. It was
not forthcoming. The Egyptian blushed and hung down his head. Never was
triumph more consummate; never was defeat borne with so ill a
grace. Indeed, I could not endure the spectacle of the poor Mummy's
mortification. I reached my hat, bowed to him stiffly, and took leave.

Upon getting home I found it past four o'clock, and went immediately
to bed. It is now ten A. M. I have been up since seven, penning these
memoranda for the benefit of my family and of mankind. The former I
shall behold no more. My wife is a shrew. The truth is, I am heartily
sick of this life and of the nineteenth century in general.