Why does the nation give A. B., for
instance, and all comers a large, comfortable, well-ventilated,
warm room to sit in, with chair, table, reading-desk, &c., all more
commodious than what he may have at home, without making him pay a
sixpence for it directly from year's end to year's end? The three
or nine days' visit to Oropa is a trifle in comparison with what we
can all of us obtain in London if we care about it enough to take a
very small amount of trouble. True, one cannot sleep in the
reading-room of the British Museum--not all night, at least--but by
day one can make a home of it for years together except during
cleaning times, and then it is hard if one cannot get into the
National Gallery or South Kensington, and be warm, quiet, and
entertained without paying for it.
It will be said that it is for the national interest that people
should have access to treasuries of art or knowledge, and therefore
it is worth the nation's while to pay for placing the means of
doing so at their disposal; granted, but is not a good bed one of
the great ends of knowledge, whereto it must work, if it is to be
accounted knowledge at all? and is it not worth a nation's while
that her children should now and again have practical experience of
a higher state of things than the one they are accustomed to, and a
few days' rest and change of scene and air, even though she may
from time to time have to pay something in order to enable them to
do so? There can be few books which do an averagely-educated
Englishman so much good, as the glimpse of comfort which he gets by
sleeping in a good bed in a well-appointed room does to an Italian
peasant; such a glimpse gives him an idea of higher potentialities
in connection with himself, and nerves him to exertions which he
would not otherwise make.
Pages:
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180