, and that its
divine literature is within my reach! And all this whilst mumbling the
most uncouth speech, and crunching the most crabbed literature in Europe.
The writer is not an exclusive admirer of everything English; he does not
advise his country-people never to go abroad, never to study foreign
languages, and he does not wish to persuade them that there is nothing
beautiful or valuable in foreign literature; he only wishes that they
would not make themselves fools with respect to foreign people, foreign
languages or reading; that if they chance to have been in Spain, and have
picked up a little Spanish, they would not affect the airs of Spaniards;
that if males they would not make Tom-fools of themselves by sticking
cigars into their mouths, dressing themselves in zamarras, and saying,
carajo! {312} and if females that they would not make zanies of
themselves by sticking cigars into their mouths, flinging mantillas over
their heads, and by saying carai, and perhaps carajo too; or if they have
been in France or Italy, and have picked up a little French or Italian,
they would not affect to be French or Italians; and particularly, after
having been a month or two in Germany, or picked up a little German in
England, they would not make themselves foolish about everything German,
as the Anglo-German in the book does--a real character, the founder of
the Anglo-German school in England, and the cleverest Englishman who ever
talked or wrote encomiastic nonsense about Germany and the Germans. Of
all infatuations connected with what is foreign, the infatuation about
everything that is German, to a certain extent prevalent in England, is
assuredly the most ridiculous. One can find something like a palliation
for people making themselves somewhat foolish about particular languages,
literatures, and people. The Spanish certainly is a noble language, and
there is something wild and captivating in the Spanish character, and its
literature contains the grand book of the world. French is a manly
language. The French are the most martial people in the world; and
French literature is admirable in many respects. Italian is a sweet
language, and of beautiful simplicity--its literature perhaps the first
in the world. The Italians!--wonderful men have sprung up in Italy.
Italy is not merely famous for painters, poets, musicians, singers, and
linguists--the greatest linguist the world ever saw, the late Cardinal
Mezzofanti, was an