The Voyage of Captain PopanillaDisraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield
General
The Voyage of Captain Popanilla
Disraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield
Utopias -- Fiction
that the honour was immense, and therefore he must go by all means.
Skindeep regretted that he could not accompany him, but he was engaged
to a lecture on shoemaking; and a lecture was a thing he made it a point
never to miss, because, as he very properly observed, ‘By lectures you
may become extremely well informed without any of the inconveniences of
study. No fixity of attention, no continuity of meditation, no habits
of reflection, no aptitude of combination, are the least requisite; all
which things only give you a nervous headache; and yet you gain all the
results of all these processes. True it is that that which is so easily
acquired is not always so easily remembered; but what of that? Suppose
you forget any subject, why then you go to another lecture.’ ‘Very
true!’ said Popanilla.
Popanilla failed not to remember his invitation from Lady Spirituelle;
and at the proper hour his announcement produced a sensation throughout
her crowded saloons.
Spirituelle was a most enchanting lady; she asked Popanilla how tall he
really was, and whether the women in Fantaisie were as handsome as the
men. Then she said that the Vraibleusians were the most intellectual
and the most scientific nation in the world, and that the society at her
house was the most intellectual and the most scientific in Vraibleusia.
She told him also that she had hoped by this season the world would have
been completely regulated by mind; but that the subversion of matter was
a more substantial business than she and the Committee of Management
had imagined: she had no doubt, however, that in a short time mind must
carry the day, because matter was mortal and mind eternal; therefore
mind had the best chance. Finally, she also told him that the passions
were the occasion of all the misery which had ever existed; and that
it was impossible for mankind either to be happy or great until, like
herself and her friends, they were ‘all soul.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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