style　of　the　Egyptians。　While　I　was　thinking　how　I　should　answer　this
  question；　little　Doctor　Ponnonner　committed　himself　in　a　very
  extraordinary　way。
  〃Look　at　our　architecture！〃　he　exclaimed；　greatly　to　the　indignation　of
  both　the　travellers；　who　pinched　him　black　and　blue　to　no　purpose。
  〃Look；〃　he　cried　with　enthusiasm；　〃at　the　Bowling…Green　Fountain　in　New
  York！　or　if　this　be　too　vast　a　contemplation；　regard　for　a　moment　the
  Capitol　at　Washington；　D。　C。！〃　　and　the　good　little　medical　man　went　on
  to　detail　very　minutely；　the　proportions　of　the　fabric　to　which　he
  referred。　He　explained　that　the　portico　alone　was　adorned　with　no　less
  than　four　and　twenty　columns；　five　feet　in　diameter；　and　ten　feet　apart。
  The　Count　said　that　he　regretted　not　being　able　to　remember；　just　at　that
  moment；　the　precise　dimensions　of　any　one　of　the　principal　buildings　of
  the　city　of　Aznac；　whose　foundations　were　laid　in　the　night　of　Time；　but
  the　ruins　of　which　were　still　standing；　at　the　epoch　of　his　entombment；　in
  a　vast　plain　of　sand　to　the　westward　of　Thebes。　He　recollected；　however；
  （talking　of　the　porticoes；）　that　one　affixed　to　an　inferior　palace　in　a
  kind　of　suburb　called　Carnac；　consisted　of　a　hundred　and　forty…four
  columns；　thirty…seven　feet　in　circumference；　and　twenty…five　feet　apart。
  The　approach　to　this　portico；　from　the　Nile；　was　through　an　avenue　two
  miles　long；　composed　of　sphynxes；　statues；　and　obelisks；　twenty；　sixty；
  and　a　hundred　feet　in　height。　The　palace　itself　（as　well　as　he　could
  remember）　was；　in　one　direction；　two　miles　long；　and　might　have　been
  altogether　about　seven　in　circuit。　Its　walls　were　richly　painted　all　over；
  within　and　without；　with　hieroglyphics。　He　would　not　pretend　to　assert
  that　even　fifty　or　sixty　of　the　Doctor's　Capitols　might　have　been　built
  within　these　walls；　but　he　was　by　no　means　sure　that　two　or　three　hundred
  of　them　might　not　have　been　squeezed　in　with　some　trouble。　That　palace　at
  Carnac　was　an　insignificant　little　building　after　all。　He　（the　Count）；
  however；　could　not　conscientiously　refuse　to　admit　the　ingenuity；
  magnificence；　and　superiority　of　the　Fountain　at　the　Bowling　Green；　as
  described　by　the　Doctor。　Nothing　like　it；　he　was　forced　to　allow；　had　ever
  been　seen　in　Egypt　or　elsewhere。
  I　here　asked　the　Count　what　he　had　to　say　to　our　railroads。
  〃Nothing；〃　he　replied；　〃in　particular。〃　They　were　rather　slight；　rather
  ill…conceived；　and　clumsily　put　together。　They　could　not　be　compared；　of
  course；　with　the　vast；　level；　direct；　iron…grooved　causeways　upon　which
  the　Egyptians　conveyed　entire　temples　and　solid　obelisks　of　a　hundred　and
  fifty　feet　in　altitude。
  I　spoke　of　our　gigantic　mechanical　forces。
  He　agreed　that　we　knew　something　in　that　way；　but　inquired　how　I　should
  have　gone　to　work　in　getting　up　the　imposts　on　the　lintels　of　even　the
  little　palace　at　Carnac。
  This　question　I　concluded　not　to　hear；　and　demanded　if　he　had　any　idea　of
  Artesian　wells；　but　he　simply　raised　his　eyebrows；　while　Mr。　Gliddon
  winked　at　me　very　hard　and　said；　in　a　low　tone；　that　one　had　been　recently
  discovered　by　the　engineers　employed　to　bore　for　water　in　the　Great　Oasis。
  I　then　mentioned　our　steel；　but　the　foreigner　elevated　his　nose；　and　asked
  me　if　our　steel　could　have　executed　the　sharp　carved　work　seen　on　the
  obelisks；　and　which　was　wrought　altogether　by　edge…tools　of　copper。
  This　disconcerted　us　so　greatly　that　we　thought　it　advisable　to　vary　the
  attack　to　Metaphysics。　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。　I　am　convinced　that
  every　thing　is　going　wrong。　Besides；　I　am　anxious　to　know　who　will　be
  President　in　2045。　As　soon；　therefore；　as　I　shave　and　swallow　a　cup　of
  coffee；　I　shall　just　step　over　to　Ponnonner's　and　get　embalmed　for　a
  couple　of　hundred　years。
  ~~~　End　of　Text　~~~
  The　Poetic　Principle
  IN　speaking　of　the　Poetic　Principle；　I　have　no　design　to　be　either
  thorough　or　profound。　While　discussing；　very　much　at　random；　the
  essentiality　of　what　we　call　Poetry；　my　principal　purpose　will　be　to　cite
  for　consideration；　some　few　of　those　minor　English　or　American　poems　which
  best　suit　my　own　taste；　or　which；　upon　my　own　fancy；　have　left　the　most
  definite　impression。　By　〃minor　poems〃　I　mean；　of　course；　poems　of　little
  length。　And　here；　in　the　beginning；　permit　me　to　say　a　few　words　in　regard
  to　a　somewhat　peculiar　principle；　which；　whether　rightfully　or　wrongfully；
  has　always　had　its　influence　in　my　own　critical　estimate　of　the　poem。　I
  hold　that　a　long　poem　does　not　exist。　I　maintain　that　the　phrase；　〃a　long
  poem；〃　is　simply　a　flat　contradiction　in　terms。
  I　need　scarcely　observe　that　a　poem　deserves　its　title　only　inasmuch
  as　it　excites；　by　elevating　the　soul。　The　value　of　the　poem　is　in　the
  ratio　of　this　elevating　excitement。　But　all　excitements　are；　through　a
  psychal　necessity；　transient。　That　degree　of　excitement　which　would
  entitle　a　poem　to　be　so　called　at　all；　cannot　be　sustained　throughout　a
  composition　of　any　great　length。　After　the　lapse　of　half　an　hour；　at　the
  very　utmost；　it　flags　　fails　　a　revulsion　ensues　　and　then　the　poem
  is；　in　effect；　and　in　fact；　no　longer　such。
  There　are；　no　doubt；　many　who　have　found　difficulty　in　reconciling　the
  critical　dictum　that　the　〃Paradise　Lost〃　is　to　be　devoutly　admired
  throughout；　with　the　absolute　impossibility　of　maintaining　for　it；　during
  perusal；　the　amount　of　enthusiasm　which　that　critical　dictum　would　demand。
  This　great　work；　in　fact；　is　to　be　regarded　as　poetical；　only　when；　losing
  sight　of　that　vital　requisite　in　all　works　of　Art；　Unity；　we　view　it
  merely　as　a　series　of　minor　poems。　If；　to　preserve　its　Unity　　its
  totality　of　effect　or　impression　　we　read　it　（as　would　be　necessary）　at
  a　single　sitting；　the　result　is　but　a　constant　alternation　of　excitement
  and　depression。　After　a　passage　of　what　we　feel　to　be　true　poetr