Sunny Memories of Foreign Lands, vol 2 | Page 5

mind on that point by
observing what men the public schools of England had hitherto
produced;" certainly a very adroit reply, yet one which would be
equally good against the suggestion of any improvement whatever. We
might as well say, see what men we have been able to raise in America
without any classical education at all; witness Benjamin Franklin,
George Washington, and Roger Sherman.
It is a curious fact that Christian nations, with one general consent, in

the early education of youth neglect the volume which they consider
inspired, and bring the mind, at the most susceptible period, under the
dominion of the literature and mythology of the heathen world; and that,
too, when the sacred history and poetry are confessedly superior in
literary quality. Grave doctors of divinity expend their forces in
commenting on and teaching things which would be utterly scouted,
were an author to publish them in English as original compositions. A
Christian community has its young men educated in Ovid and
Anacreon, but is shocked when one of them comes out in English with
Don Juan; yet, probably, the latter poem is purer than either.
The English literature and poetry of the time of Pope and Dryden
betray a state of association so completely heathenized, that an old
Greek or Roman raised from the dead could scarce learn from them that
any change had taken place in the religion of the world; and even
Milton often pains one by introducing second-hand pagan mythology
into the very shadow of the eternal throne. In some parts of the Paradise
Lost, the evident imitations of Homer are to me the poorest and most
painful passages.
The adoration of the ancient classics has lain like a dead weight on all
modern art and literature; because men, instead of using them simply
for excitement and inspiration, have congealed them into fixed,
imperative rules. As the classics have been used, I think, wonderful as
have been the minds educated under them, there would have been more
variety and originality without them.
With which long sermon on a short text, I will conclude my letter.

LETTER XX.
Thursday, May 12. My dear I.:--
Yesterday, what with my breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I was, as the
fashionable saying is, "fairly knocked up." This expression, which I
find obtains universally here, corresponds to what we mean by being
"used up." They talk of Americanisms, and I have a little innocent
speculation now and then concerning Anglicisms. I certainly find
several here for which I can perceive no more precedent in the well of
"English undefiled," than for some of ours; for instance, this being
"knocked up," which is variously inflected, as, for example, in the form
of a participial adjective, as a "knocking up" affair; in the form of a

noun, as when they say "such a person has got quite a knocking up,"
and so on.
The fact is, if we had ever had any experience in London life we should
not have made three engagements in one day. To my simple eye it is
quite amusing to see how they manage the social machine here. People
are under such a pressure of engagements, that they go about with their
lists in their pockets. If A wants to invite B to dinner, out come their
respective lists. A says he has only Tuesday and Thursday open for this
week. B looks down his list, and says that the days are all closed. A
looks along, and says that he has no day open till next Wednesday
week. B, however, is going to leave town Tuesday; so that settles the
matter as to dining; so they turn back again, and try the breakfasting;
for though you cannot dine in but one place a day, yet, by means of the
breakfast and the lunch, you can make three social visits if you are
strong enough.
Then there are evening parties, which begin at ten o'clock. The first
card of the kind that was sent me, which was worded, "At home at ten
o'clock," I, in my simplicity, took to be ten in the morning.
But here are people staying out night after night till two o'clock, sitting
up all night in Parliament, and seeming to thrive upon it. There
certainly is great apology for this in London, if it is always as dark,
drizzling, and smoky in the daytime as it has been since I have been
here. If I were one of the London people I would live by gaslight as
they do, for the streets and houses are altogether pleasanter by gaslight
than by daylight. But to ape these customs under our clear, American
skies, so contrary to our whole social system, is simply ridiculous.
This morning I was exceedingly tired, and had a