and stick to it, as any of the
rest, was so modest and self-depreciatory that he would not go further
than to state and advocate each theory in turn, praising its author, and
defending him against the other six. After doing this, he was bold to
confess that he did not altogether agree with any of the seven. He was
on the point of launching his own hypothesis, which would have been
incompatible with all the rest, when his heart failed him. He therefore
ended by inviting discussion, and sat down, blushing unseen beneath his
yellow skin, exactly as he used to blush half a century ago when he was
called up to construe a piece of Homer. Three of the seven Egyptologists
were present, and they now rose, one after another, beginning with the
oldest. Each of them stated his own theory, showing much deference to
the lecturer as "the greatest living authority" on this particular
subject; and then, after politely referring to the opinions of the two
rival savants whom he saw in the audience, became humorous and sarcastic
at the expense of the absent four.

But, as the absent are always wrong in comparison with the present, so
youth is always wrong in comparison with age. The youngest
Egyptologist--being in truth a somewhat bumptious man, fresh from Oxford
by way of Cairo and Alexandria--had presumed to make a little feint of
sword-play with one of the lecturer's diffident remarks. This brought up
the other two who had already spoken; and they withered that young man
with infinite satisfaction to themselves and the male part of the
audience.

The victim, however, was not young and Oxford-bred for nothing. He rose
to deprecate their wrath. He was not, he said, contesting the opinion of
the lecturer, whose decision on any detail of the matter under
consideration he would take as absolutely final. But he pointed out that
the opinion he had ventured to examine was expressed by his friend, Dr.
A., in a paper read before the Diatribical Society, six weeks before,
and it was manifestly at variance with the canon laid down by his
friend, Dr. B., as a fundamental test of knowledge and common-sense in
the domain of Egyptology.

Thus discord was sown between Dr. A. and Dr. B., and the seed instantly
sprang up, and put an end to all that was useful or amicable in that
evening's discussion.

Yet everyone agreed that it had been a most interesting conference, and
the audience dispersed in high good humor.

It took nearly a quarter of an ho