No More Learning

Indeed,
Pierre Bon-Bon, from what I have been able to understand of his
disposition, was of all men the least likely to be imposed upon by any
speciousness of exterior deportment. It was impossible that so accurate
an observer of men and things should have failed to discover, upon the
moment, the real character of the personage who had thus intruded upon
his hospitality. To say no more, the conformation of his visiter's feet
was sufficiently remarkable--he maintained lightly upon his head an
inordinately tall hat--there was a tremulous swelling about the hinder
part of his breeches--and the vibration of his coat tail was a palpable
fact. Judge, then, with what feelings of satisfaction our hero found
himself thrown thus at once into the society of a person for whom he had
at all times entertained the most unqualified respect. He was, however,
too much of the diplomatist to let escape him any intimation of his
suspicions in regard to the true state of affairs. It was not his cue to
appear at all conscious of the high honor he thus unexpectedly enjoyed;
but, by leading his guest into the conversation, to elicit some
important ethical ideas, which might, in obtaining a place in his
contemplated publication, enlighten the human race, and at the same time
immortalize himself--ideas which, I should have added, his visitor's
great age, and well-known proficiency in the science of morals, might
very well have enabled him to afford.

Actuated by these enlightened views, our hero bade the gentleman sit
down, while he himself took occasion to throw some fagots upon the fire,
and place upon the now re-established table some bottles of Mousseux.
Having quickly completed these operations, he drew his chair vis-a-vis
to his companion's, and waited until the latter should open the
conversation. But plans even the most skilfully matured are often
thwarted in the outset of their application--and the restaurateur found
himself nonplussed by the very first words of his visiter's speech.

"I see you know me, Bon-Bon," said he; "ha! ha! ha! --he! he! he! --hi!
hi! hi! --ho! ho! ho! --hu! hu! hu! "--and the devil, dropping at once the
sanctity of his demeanor, opened to its fullest extent a mouth from
ear to ear, so as to display a set of jagged and fang-like teeth,
and, throwing back his head, laughed long, loudly, wickedly, and
uproariously, while the black dog, crouching down upon his haunches,
joined lustily in the chorus, and the tabby cat, flying off at a
tangent, stood up on end, and shrieked in the farthest corner of the
apartment.

Not so the philosopher; he was too much a man of the world either to
laugh like the dog, or by shrieks to betray the indecorous trepidation
of the cat. It must be confessed, he felt a little astonishment to see
the white letters which formed the words "Rituel Catholique" on the
book in his guest's pocket, momently changing both their color and their
import, and in a few seconds, in place of the original title the words
Regitre des Condamnes blazed forth in characters of red. This startling
circumstance, when Bon-Bon replied to his visiter's remark, imparted to
his manner an air of embarrassment which probably might, not otherwise
have been observed.

"Why sir," said the philosopher, "why sir, to speak sincerely--I I
imagine--I have some faint--some very faint idea--of the remarkable
honor-"

"Oh! --ah! --yes! --very well! " interrupted his Majesty; "say no more--I
see how it is. " And hereupon, taking off his green spectacles, he wiped
the glasses carefully with the sleeve of his coat, and deposited them in
his pocket.

If Bon-Bon had been astonished at the incident of the book, his
amazement was now much increased by the spectacle which here presented
itself to view. In raising his eyes, with a strong feeling of curiosity
to ascertain the color of his guest's, he found them by no means black,
as he had anticipated--nor gray, as might have been imagined--nor yet
hazel nor blue--nor indeed yellow nor red--nor purple--nor white--nor
green--nor any other color in the heavens above, or in the earth
beneath, or in the waters under the earth. In short, Pierre Bon-Bon
not only saw plainly that his Majesty had no eyes whatsoever, but
could discover no indications of their having existed at any previous
period--for the space where eyes should naturally have been was, I am
constrained to say, simply a dead level of flesh.

It was not in the nature of the metaphysician to forbear making some
inquiry into the sources of so strange a phenomenon, and the reply of
his Majesty was at once prompt, dignified, and satisfactory.

"Eyes! my dear Bon-Bon--eyes! did you say? --oh! --ah! --I perceive! The
ridiculous prints, eh, which are in, circulation, have given you a false
idea of my personal appearance? Eyes! --true. Eyes, Pierre Bon-Bon,
are very well in their proper place--that, you would say, is the
head? --right--the head of a worm. To you, likewise, these optics
are indispensable--yet I will convince you that my vision is more
penetrating than your own. There is a cat I see in the corner--a pretty
cat--look at her--observe her well. Now, Bon-Bon, do you behold the
thoughts--the thoughts, I say,--the ideas--the reflections--which are
being engendered in her pericranium? There it is, now--you do not! She
is thinking we admire the length of her tail and the profundity of
her mind. She has just concluded that I am the most distinguished of
ecclesiastics, and that you are the most superficial of metaphysicians.
Thus you see I am not altogether blind; but to one of my profession, the
eyes you speak of would be merely an incumbrance, liable at any time to
be put out by a toasting-iron, or a pitchfork. To you, I allow, these
optical affairs are indispensable. Endeavor, Bon-Bon, to use them
well;--my vision is the soul. "

Hereupon the guest helped himself to the wine upon the table, and
pouring out a bumper for Bon-Bon, requested him to drink it without
scruple, and make himself perfectly at home.

"A clever book that of yours, Pierre," resumed his Majesty, tapping our
friend knowingly upon the shoulder, as the latter put down his glass
after a thorough compliance with his visiter's injunction. "A clever
book that of yours, upon my honor. It's a work after my own heart. Your
arrangement of the matter, I think, however, might be improved, and many
of your notions remind me of Aristotle. That philosopher was one of my
most intimate acquaintances. I liked him as much for his terrible ill
temper, as for his happy knack at making a blunder. There is only one
solid truth in all that he has written, and for that I gave him the hint
out of pure compassion for his absurdity. I suppose, Pierre Bon-Bon, you
very well know to what divine moral truth I am alluding? "

"Cannot say that I--"

"Indeed! --why it was I who told Aristotle that by sneezing, men expelled
superfluous ideas through the proboscis. "

"Which is--hiccup! --undoubtedly the case," said the metaphysician, while
he poured out for himself another bumper of Mousseux, and offered his
snuff-box to the fingers of his visiter.

"There was Plato, too," continued his Majesty, modestly declining the
snuff-box and the compliment it implied--"there was Plato, too, for
whom I, at one time, felt all the affection of a friend. You knew Plato,
Bon-Bon? --ah, no, I beg a thousand pardons. He met me at Athens, one
day, in the Parthenon, and told me he was distressed for an idea. I bade
him write, down that o nous estin aulos. He said that he would do so,
and went home, while I stepped over to the pyramids. But my conscience
smote me for having uttered a truth, even to aid a friend, and hastening
back to Athens, I arrived behind the philosopher's chair as he was
inditing the 'aulos. '"

"Giving the lambda a fillip with my finger, I turned it upside down. So
the sentence now read 'o nous estin augos', and is, you perceive, the
fundamental doctrines in his metaphysics. "

"Were you ever at Rome? " asked the restaurateur, as he finished his
second bottle of Mousseux, and drew from the closet a larger supply of
Chambertin.

"But once, Monsieur Bon-Bon, but once. There was a time," said the devil,
as if reciting some passage from a book--"there was a time when occurred
an anarchy of five years, during which the republic, bereft of all its
officers, had no magistracy besides the tribunes of the people, and
these were not legally vested with any degree of executive power--at
that time, Monsieur Bon-Bon--at that time only I was in Rome, and I have
no earthly acquaintance, consequently, with any of its philosophy. " (*2)

{*2} Ils ecrivaient sur la Philosophie (_Cicero, Lucretius,
Seneca_) mais c'etait la Philosophie Grecque. --_Condorcet_.

"What do you think of--what do you think of--hiccup! --Epicurus? "

"What do I think of whom? " said the devil, in astonishment, "you
cannot surely mean to find any fault with Epicurus! What do I think of
Epicurus! Do you mean me, sir? --I am Epicurus! I am the same philosopher
who wrote each of the three hundred treatises commemorated by Diogenes
Laertes. "

"That's a lie! " said the metaphysician, for the wine had gotten a little
into his head.

"Very well! --very well, sir! --very well, indeed, sir! " said his Majesty,
apparently much flattered.

"That's a lie! " repeated the restaurateur, dogmatically; "that's
a--hiccup! --a lie! "

"Well, well, have it your own way! " said the devil, pacifically, and
Bon-Bon, having beaten his Majesty at argument, thought it his duty to
conclude a second bottle of Chambertin.

"As I was saying," resumed the visiter--"as I was observing a little
while ago, there are some very outre notions in that book of yours
Monsieur Bon-Bon. What, for instance, do you mean by all that humbug
about the soul? Pray, sir, what is the soul? "

"The--hiccup! --soul," replied the metaphysician, referring to his MS. ,
"is undoubtedly-"

"No, sir! "

"Indubitably-"

"No, sir! "

"Indisputably-"

"No, sir! "

"Evidently-"

"No, sir! "

"Incontrovertibly-"

"No, sir! "

"Hiccup! --"

"No, sir! "

"And beyond all question, a-"

"No sir, the soul is no such thing! " (Here the philosopher, looking
daggers, took occasion to make an end, upon the spot, of his third
bottle of Chambertin. )

"Then--hic-cup! --pray, sir--what--what is it? "

"That is neither here nor there, Monsieur Bon-Bon," replied his Majesty,
musingly. "I have tasted--that is to say, I have known some very bad
souls, and some too--pretty good ones. " Here he smacked his lips, and,
having unconsciously let fall his hand upon the volume in his pocket,
was seized with a violent fit of sneezing.

He continued.

"There was the soul of Cratinus--passable: Aristophanes--racy:
Plato--exquisite--not your Plato, but Plato the comic poet; your Plato
would have turned the stomach of Cerberus--faugh! Then let me see! there
were Naevius, and Andronicus, and Plautus, and Terentius. Then there
were Lucilius, and Catullus, and Naso, and Quintus Flaccus,--dear
Quinty! as I called him when he sung a seculare for my amusement, while
I toasted him, in pure good humor, on a fork. But they want flavor,
these Romans. One fat Greek is worth a dozen of them, and besides will
keep, which cannot be said of a Quirite. --Let us taste your Sauterne. "

Bon-Bon had by this time made up his mind to nil admirari and endeavored
to hand down the bottles in question. He was, however, conscious of a
strange sound in the room like the wagging of a tail. Of this,
although extremely indecent in his Majesty, the philosopher took no
notice:--simply kicking the dog, and requesting him to be quiet. The
visiter continued:

"I found that Horace tasted very much like Aristotle;--you know I am
fond of variety. Terentius I could not have told from Menander. Naso, to
my astonishment, was Nicander in disguise. Virgilius had a strong twang
of Theocritus. Martial put me much in mind of Archilochus--and Titus
Livius was positively Polybius and none other. "

"Hic-cup! " here replied Bon-Bon, and his majesty proceeded:

"But if I have a penchant, Monsieur Bon-Bon--if I have a penchant, it
is for a philosopher. Yet, let me tell you, sir, it is not every dev--I
mean it is not every gentleman who knows how to choose a philosopher.
Long ones are not good; and the best, if not carefully shelled, are apt
to be a little rancid on account of the gall! "

"Shelled! "

"I mean taken out of the carcass. "

"What do you think of a--hic-cup! --physician? "

"Don't mention them! --ugh! ugh! ugh! " (Here his Majesty retched
violently. ) "I never tasted but one--that rascal Hippocrates! --smelt of
asafoetida--ugh! ugh! ugh! --caught a wretched cold washing him in the
Styx--and after all he gave me the cholera morbus. "

"The--hiccup--wretch! " ejaculated Bon-Bon, "the--hic-cup! --absorption of
a pill-box! "--and the philosopher dropped a tear.

"After all," continued the visiter, "after all, if a dev--if a gentleman
wishes to live, he must have more talents than one or two; and with us a
fat face is an evidence of diplomacy. "

"How so? "

"Why, we are sometimes exceedingly pushed for provisions. You must know
that, in a climate so sultry as mine, it is frequently impossible to
keep a spirit alive for more than two or three hours; and after death,
unless pickled immediately (and a pickled spirit is not good),
they will--smell--you understand, eh? Putrefaction is always to be
apprehended when the souls are consigned to us in the usual way. "

"Hiccup! --hiccup! --good God! how do you manage? "

Here the iron lamp commenced swinging with redoubled violence, and
the devil half started from his seat;--however, with a slight sigh, he
recovered his composure, merely saying to our hero in a low tone: "I
tell you what, Pierre Bon-Bon, we must have no more swearing. "

The host swallowed another bumper, by way of denoting thorough
comprehension and acquiescence, and the visiter continued.

"Why, there are several ways of managing. The most of us starve: some
put up with the pickle: for my part I purchase my spirits vivente
corpore, in which case I find they keep very well. "

"But the body! --hiccup! --the body! "

"The body, the body--well, what of the body? --oh! ah! I perceive. Why,
sir, the body is not at all affected by the transaction. I have made
innumerable purchases of the kind in my day, and the parties never
experienced any inconvenience. There were Cain and Nimrod, and Nero, and
Caligula, and Dionysius, and Pisistratus, and--and a thousand others,
who never knew what it was to have a soul during the latter part of
their lives; yet, sir, these men adorned society. Why possession of
his faculties, mental and corporeal? Who writes a keener epigram?
Who reasons more wittily? Who--but stay! I have his agreement in my
pocket-book. "

Thus saying, he produced a red leather wallet, and took from it a number
of papers. Upon some of these Bon-Bon caught a glimpse of the letters
Machi--Maza--Robesp--with the words Caligula, George, Elizabeth. His
Majesty selected a narrow slip of parchment, and from it read aloud the
following words:

"In consideration of certain mental endowments which it is unnecessary
to specify, and in further consideration of one thousand louis d'or, I
being aged one year and one month, do hereby make over to the bearer
of this agreement all my right, title, and appurtenance in the shadow
called my soul. (Signed) A. . . . " {*4} (Here His Majesty repeated a name
which I did not feel justified in indicating more unequivocally. )

{*4} Quere-Arouet?
"A clever fellow that," resumed he; "but like you, Monsieur Bon-Bon,
he was mistaken about the soul. The soul a shadow, truly! The soul a
shadow; Ha! ha! ha! --he! he! he! --hu! hu! hu! Only think of a fricasseed
shadow! "

"Only think--hiccup! --of a fricasseed shadow! " exclaimed our hero,
whose faculties were becoming much illuminated by the profundity of his
Majesty's discourse.

"Only think of a hiccup! --fricasseed shadow! ! Now,
damme! --hiccup! --humph! If I would have been such
a--hiccup! --nincompoop! My soul, Mr. --humph! "

"Your soul, Monsieur Bon-Bon? "

"Yes, sir--hiccup! --my soul is-"

"What, sir? "

"No shadow, damme! "

"Did you mean to say-"

"Yes, sir, my soul is--hiccup! --humph! --yes, sir. "

"Did you not intend to assert-"

"My soul is--hiccup! --peculiarly qualified for--hiccup! --a-"

"What, sir? "

"Stew. "

"Ha! "

"Soufflee. "

"Eh! "

"Fricassee. "

"Indeed! "

"Ragout and fricandeau--and see here, my good fellow! I'll let you have
it--hiccup! --a bargain. " Here the philosopher slapped his Majesty upon
the back.

"Couldn't think of such a thing," said the latter calmly, at the same
time rising from his seat. The metaphysician stared.

"Am supplied at present," said his Majesty.

"Hiccup--e-h? " said the philosopher.

"Have no funds on hand. "

"What? "

"Besides, very unhandsome in me--"

"Sir! "

"To take advantage of-"

"Hiccup! "

"Your present disgusting and ungentlemanly situation. "

Here the visiter bowed and withdrew--in what manner could not precisely
be ascertained--but in a well-concerted effort to discharge a bottle
at "the villain," the slender chain was severed that depended from the
ceiling, and the metaphysician prostrated by the downfall of the lamp.




SOME WORDS WITH A MUMMY.

THE _symposium_ of the preceding evening had been a little too much
for my nerves. I had a wretched headache, and was desperately drowsy.
Instead of going out therefore to spend the evening as I had proposed,
it occurred to me that I could not do a wiser thing than just eat a
mouthful of supper and go immediately to bed.

A light supper of course. I am exceedingly fond of Welsh rabbit. More
than a pound at once, however, may not at all times be advisable. Still,
there can be no material objection to two. And really between two and
three, there is merely a single unit of difference. I ventured, perhaps,
upon four. My wife will have it five;--but, clearly, she has confounded
two very distinct affairs. The abstract number, five, I am willing to
admit; but, concretely, it has reference to bottles of Brown Stout,
without which, in the way of condiment, Welsh rabbit is to be eschewed.

Having thus concluded a frugal meal, and donned my night-cap, with the
serene hope of enjoying it till noon the next day, I placed my head upon
the pillow, and, through the aid of a capital conscience, fell into a
profound slumber forthwith.

But when were the hopes of humanity fulfilled? I could not have
completed my third snore when there came a furious ringing at the
street-door bell, and then an impatient thumping at the knocker, which
awakened me at once. In a minute afterward, and while I was still
rubbing my eyes, my wife thrust in my face a note, from my old friend,
Doctor Ponnonner. It ran thus:

"Come to me, by all means, my dear good friend, as soon as you
receive this. Come and help us to rejoice. At last, by long persevering
diplomacy, I have gained the assent of the Directors of the City Museum,
to my examination of the Mummy--you know the one I mean. I have
permission to unswathe it and open it, if desirable. A few friends only
will be present--you, of course. The Mummy is now at my house, and we
shall begin to unroll it at eleven to-night.

"Yours, ever,

PONNONNER.

By the time I had reached the "Ponnonner," it struck me that I was
as wide awake as a man need be. I leaped out of bed in an ecstacy,
overthrowing all in my way; dressed myself with a rapidity truly
marvellous; and set off, at the top of my speed, for the doctor's.

There I found a very eager company assembled. They had been awaiting me
with much impatience; the Mummy was extended upon the dining-table; and
the moment I entered its examination was commenced.

It was one of a pair brought, several years previously, by Captain
Arthur Sabretash, a cousin of Ponnonner's from a tomb near Eleithias, in
the Lybian mountains, a considerable distance above Thebes on the Nile.
The grottoes at this point, although less magnificent than the Theban
sepulchres, are of higher interest, on account of affording more
numerous illustrations of the private life of the Egyptians. The chamber
from which our specimen was taken, was said to be very rich in such
illustrations; the walls being completely covered with fresco paintings
and bas-reliefs, while statues, vases, and Mosaic work of rich patterns,
indicated the vast wealth of the deceased.

The treasure had been deposited in the Museum precisely in the same
condition in which Captain Sabretash had found it;--that is to say,
the coffin had not been disturbed. For eight years it had thus stood,
subject only externally to public inspection. We had now, therefore,
the complete Mummy at our disposal; and to those who are aware how very
rarely the unransacked antique reaches our shores, it will be evident,
at once that we had great reason to congratulate ourselves upon our good
fortune.

Approaching the table, I saw on it a large box, or case, nearly seven
feet long, and perhaps three feet wide, by two feet and a half deep. It
was oblong--not coffin-shaped. The material was at first supposed to
be the wood of the sycamore (_platanus_), but, upon cutting into it, we
found it to be pasteboard, or, more properly, _papier mache_, composed
of papyrus. It was thickly ornamented with paintings, representing
funeral scenes, and other mournful subjects--interspersed among which,
in every variety of position, were certain series of hieroglyphical
characters, intended, no doubt, for the name of the departed. By good
luck, Mr. Gliddon formed one of our party; and he had no difficulty in
translating the letters, which were simply phonetic, and represented the
word _Allamistakeo_.

We had some difficulty in getting this case open without injury;
but having at length accomplished the task, we came to a second,
coffin-shaped, and very considerably less in size than the exterior one,
but resembling it precisely in every other respect. The interval between
the two was filled with resin, which had, in some degree, defaced the
colors of the interior box.

Upon opening this latter (which we did quite easily), we arrived at a
third case, also coffin-shaped, and varying from the second one in no
particular, except in that of its material, which was cedar, and still
emitted the peculiar and highly aromatic odor of that wood. Between
the second and the third case there was no interval--the one fitting
accurately within the other.

Removing the third case, we discovered and took out the body itself.
We had expected to find it, as usual, enveloped in frequent rolls, or
bandages, of linen; but, in place of these, we found a sort of sheath,
made of papyrus, and coated with a layer of plaster, thickly gilt and
painted. The paintings represented subjects connected with the
various supposed duties of the soul, and its presentation to different
divinities, with numerous identical human figures, intended, very
probably, as portraits of the persons embalmed. Extending from head
to foot was a columnar, or perpendicular, inscription, in phonetic
hieroglyphics, giving again his name and titles, and the names and
titles of his relations.

Around the neck thus ensheathed, was a collar of cylindrical glass
beads, diverse in color, and so arranged as to form images of deities,
of the scarabaeus, etc, with the winged globe. Around the small of the
waist was a similar collar or belt.

Stripping off the papyrus, we found the flesh in excellent preservation,
with no perceptible odor. The color was reddish. The skin was hard,
smooth, and glossy. The teeth and hair were in good condition. The eyes
(it seemed) had been removed, and glass ones substituted, which were
very beautiful and wonderfully life-like, with the exception of somewhat
too determined a stare. The fingers and the nails were brilliantly
gilded.

Mr. Gliddon was of opinion, from the redness of the epidermis, that the
embalmment had been effected altogether by asphaltum; but, on scraping
the surface with a steel instrument, and throwing into the fire some of
the powder thus obtained, the flavor of camphor and other sweet-scented
gums became apparent.

We searched the corpse very carefully for the usual openings through
which the entrails are extracted, but, to our surprise, we could
discover none. No member of the party was at that period aware that
entire or unopened mummies are not infrequently met. The brain it
was customary to withdraw through the nose; the intestines through an
incision in the side; the body was then shaved, washed, and salted; then
laid aside for several weeks, when the operation of embalming, properly
so called, began.

As no trace of an opening could be found, Doctor Ponnonner was preparing
his instruments for dissection, when I observed that it was then past
two o'clock. Hereupon it was agreed to postpone the internal examination
until the next evening; and we were about to separate for the present,
when some one suggested an experiment or two with the Voltaic pile.

The application of electricity to a mummy three or four thousand years
old at the least, was an idea, if not very sage, still sufficiently
original, and we all caught it at once. About one-tenth in earnest and
nine-tenths in jest, we arranged a battery in the Doctor's study, and
conveyed thither the Egyptian.

It was only after much trouble that we succeeded in laying bare some
portions of the temporal muscle which appeared of less stony rigidity
than other parts of the frame, but which, as we had anticipated, of
course, gave no indication of galvanic susceptibility when brought in
contact with the wire. This, the first trial, indeed, seemed decisive,
and, with a hearty laugh at our own absurdity, we were bidding each
other good night, when my eyes, happening to fall upon those of the
Mummy, were there immediately riveted in amazement. My brief glance, in
fact, had sufficed to assure me that the orbs which we had all supposed
to be glass, and which were originally noticeable for a certain wild
stare, were now so far covered by the lids, that only a small portion of
the _tunica albuginea_ remained visible.

With a shout I called attention to the fact, and it became immediately
obvious to all.

I cannot say that I was alarmed at the phenomenon, because "alarmed" is,
in my case, not exactly the word. It is possible, however, that, but for
the Brown Stout, I might have been a little nervous. As for the rest
of the company, they really made no attempt at concealing the downright
fright which possessed them. Doctor Ponnonner was a man to be pitied.
Mr. Gliddon, by some peculiar process, rendered himself invisible. Mr.
Silk Buckingham, I fancy, will scarcely be so bold as to deny that he
made his way, upon all fours, under the table.

After the first shock of astonishment, however, we resolved, as a matter
of course, upon further experiment forthwith. Our operations were now
directed against the great toe of the right foot. We made an incision
over the outside of the exterior _os sesamoideum pollicis pedis,_ and
thus got at the root of the abductor muscle. Readjusting the battery, we
now applied the fluid to the bisected nerves--when, with a movement of
exceeding life-likeness, the Mummy first drew up its right knee so as to
bring it nearly in contact with the abdomen, and then, straightening the
limb with inconceivable force, bestowed a kick upon Doctor Ponnonner,
which had the effect of discharging that gentleman, like an arrow from a
catapult, through a window into the street below.

We rushed out _en masse_ to bring in the mangled remains of the victim,
but had the happiness to meet him upon the staircase, coming up in an
unaccountable hurry, brimful of the most ardent philosophy, and more
than ever impressed with the necessity of prosecuting our experiment
with vigor and with zeal.

It was by his advice, accordingly, that we made, upon the spot, a
profound incision into the tip of the subject's nose, while the Doctor
himself, laying violent hands upon it, pulled it into vehement contact
with the wire.

Morally and physically--figuratively and literally--was the effect
electric. In the first place, the corpse opened its eyes and winked very
rapidly for several minutes, as does Mr. Barnes in the pantomime, in the
second place, it sneezed; in the third, it sat upon end; in the fourth,
it shook its fist in Doctor Ponnonner's face; in the fifth, turning to
Messieurs Gliddon and Buckingham, it addressed them, in very capital
Egyptian, thus:

"I must say, gentlemen, that I am as much surprised as I am mortified at
your behavior. Of Doctor Ponnonner nothing better was to be expected. He
is a poor little fat fool who knows no better. I pity and forgive him.
But you, Mr. Gliddon--and you, Silk--who have travelled and resided in
Egypt until one might imagine you to the manner born--you, I say who
have been so much among us that you speak Egyptian fully as well, I
think, as you write your mother tongue--you, whom I have always been
led to regard as the firm friend of the mummies--I really did anticipate
more gentlemanly conduct from you. What am I to think of your standing
quietly by and seeing me thus unhandsomely used? What am I to suppose by
your permitting Tom, Dick, and Harry to strip me of my coffins, and my
clothes, in this wretchedly cold climate? In what light (to come to the
point) am I to regard your aiding and abetting that miserable little
villain, Doctor Ponnonner, in pulling me by the nose? "

It will be taken for granted, no doubt, that upon hearing this speech
under the circumstances, we all either made for the door, or fell into
violent hysterics, or went off in a general swoon. One of these three
things was, I say, to be expected. Indeed each and all of these lines of
conduct might have been very plausibly pursued. And, upon my word, I am
at a loss to know how or why it was that we pursued neither the one nor
the other. But, perhaps, the true reason is to be sought in the spirit
of the age, which proceeds by the rule of contraries altogether, and
is now usually admitted as the solution of every thing in the way of
paradox and impossibility. Or, perhaps, after all, it was only the
Mummy's exceedingly natural and matter-of-course air that divested his
words of the terrible. However this may be, the facts are clear, and no
member of our party betrayed any very particular trepidation, or seemed
to consider that any thing had gone very especially wrong.

For my part I was convinced it was all right, and merely stepped aside,
out of the range of the Egyptian's fist. Doctor Ponnonner thrust his
hands into his breeches' pockets, looked hard at the Mummy, and grew
excessively red in the face. Mr. Glidden stroked his whiskers and drew
up the collar of his shirt. Mr. Buckingham hung down his head, and put
his right thumb into the left corner of his mouth.

The Egyptian regarded him with a severe countenance for some minutes and
at length, with a sneer, said:

"Why don't you speak, Mr. Buckingham? Did you hear what I asked you, or
not? Do take your thumb out of your mouth! "

Mr. Buckingham, hereupon, gave a slight start, took his right thumb out
of the left corner of his mouth, and, by way of indemnification inserted
his left thumb in the right corner of the aperture above-mentioned.

Not being able to get an answer from Mr. B. , the figure turned peevishly
to Mr. Gliddon, and, in a peremptory tone, demanded in general terms
what we all meant.

Mr. Gliddon replied at great length, in phonetics; and but for the
deficiency of American printing-offices in hieroglyphical type, it would
afford me much pleasure to record here, in the original, the whole of
his very excellent speech.

I may as well take this occasion to remark, that all the subsequent
conversation in which the Mummy took a part, was carried on in primitive
Egyptian, through the medium (so far as concerned myself and other
untravelled members of the company)--through the medium, I say, of
Messieurs Gliddon and Buckingham, as interpreters. These gentlemen spoke
the mother tongue of the Mummy with inimitable fluency and grace; but I
could not help observing that (owing, no doubt, to the introduction of
images entirely modern, and, of course, entirely novel to the stranger)
the two travellers were reduced, occasionally, to the employment of
sensible forms for the purpose of conveying a particular meaning.
Mr. Gliddon, at one period, for example, could not make the Egyptian
comprehend the term "politics," until he sketched upon the wall, with
a bit of charcoal a little carbuncle-nosed gentleman, out at elbows,
standing upon a stump, with his left leg drawn back, right arm thrown
forward, with his fist shut, the eyes rolled up toward Heaven, and
the mouth open at an angle of ninety degrees. Just in the same way Mr.
Buckingham failed to convey the absolutely modern idea "wig," until
(at Doctor Ponnonner's suggestion) he grew very pale in the face, and
consented to take off his own.

It will be readily understood that Mr. Gliddon's discourse turned
chiefly upon the vast benefits accruing to science from the unrolling
and disembowelling of mummies; apologizing, upon this score, for any
disturbance that might have been occasioned him, in particular, the
individual Mummy called Allamistakeo; and concluding with a mere hint
(for it could scarcely be considered more) that, as these little
matters were now explained, it might be as well to proceed with
the investigation intended. Here Doctor Ponnonner made ready his
instruments.

In regard to the latter suggestions of the orator, it appears that
Allamistakeo had certain scruples of conscience, the nature of which I
did not distinctly learn; but he expressed himself satisfied with the
apologies tendered, and, getting down from the table, shook hands with
the company all round.

When this ceremony was at an end, we immediately busied ourselves in
repairing the damages which our subject had sustained from the scalpel.
We sewed up the wound in his temple, bandaged his foot, and applied a
square inch of black plaster to the tip of his nose.

It was now observed that the Count (this was the title, it seems, of
Allamistakeo) had a slight fit of shivering--no doubt from the cold. The
Doctor immediately repaired to his wardrobe, and soon returned with
a black dress coat, made in Jennings' best manner, a pair of sky-blue
plaid pantaloons with straps, a pink gingham chemise, a flapped vest of
brocade, a white sack overcoat, a walking cane with a hook, a hat with
no brim, patent-leather boots, straw-colored kid gloves, an eye-glass, a
pair of whiskers, and a waterfall cravat. Owing to the disparity of size
between the Count and the doctor (the proportion being as two to one),
there was some little difficulty in adjusting these habiliments upon the
person of the Egyptian; but when all was arranged, he might have been
said to be dressed. Mr. Gliddon, therefore, gave him his arm, and led
him to a comfortable chair by the fire, while the Doctor rang the bell
upon the spot and ordered a supply of cigars and wine.

The conversation soon grew animated. Much curiosity was, of course,
expressed in regard to the somewhat remarkable fact of Allamistakeo's
still remaining alive.

"I should have thought," observed Mr. Buckingham, "that it is high time
you were dead. "

"Why," replied the Count, very much astonished, "I am little more than
seven hundred years old! My father lived a thousand, and was by no means
in his dotage when he died. "

Here ensued a brisk series of questions and computations, by means of
which it became evident that the antiquity of the Mummy had been grossly
misjudged. It had been five thousand and fifty years and some months
since he had been consigned to the catacombs at Eleithias.

"But my remark," resumed Mr. Buckingham, "had no reference to your age
at the period of interment (I am willing to grant, in fact, that you are
still a young man), and my illusion was to the immensity of time during
which, by your own showing, you must have been done up in asphaltum.