Cleanliness, like inebriety or intemperance, may be at once a fashion and a passion. Appearing amongst us under both shapes, it has also assumed that of charity. As soon as it was felt that it was shameful to be dirty, it became a work of charity to wash the filthy, no less than to feed the hungry. These dispositions offer an opportunity of reviving the bath in all its classic grace, and investing it with all its Eastern attractions; but the occasion may be lost—that is, we may rest satisfied with what we have done, and the new wash-houses may pass current as achievements of economy and models of cleanliness. The occasion can be put to profit only by the knowledge of the bath in its bearings on the individual and on society; and I have made the attempt to describe it, so that it shall be understood in its uses, enjoyments, and construction.
We have recently been imitating barbarous times in church architecture. These times offer to our admiration usages as well as forms. Shall we have eyes for a Gothic spire, and none for a Roman bath? Nations may have refinement, and yet be destitute of common sense; they may be possessed of sense, and yet be without refinement. A people without the bath can lay claim to neither.
Morocco calls attention to the past; Spain directs it to the future. We pass from dreams to delusions, from poetry to politics. Belgium has been termed the battle-field of Europe—Spain is its bone of contention. The Italian Peninsula is the field of the rivalries of France and Austria, which England balances and adjusts. In the East, England and France are united by the advance of Russia; in the Spanish Peninsula they are alone in presence of each other: the aim of each is to gain ascendancy, and thence a constant source of irritation.
The political experiment which is at present being made in Spain, consists in applying European terms to a country where there are no European ideas, and European institutions to a state of things wholly unlike Europe. The following fragment of a conversation with a leading statesman conveys that contrast in the fewest words.
Spaniard.—I am sorry that you see Spain in such a distracted condition.
Author.—I am rejoiced to find her in one so flourishing.
Sp.—I wish it were so. Surely you are not in earnest?
A.—I wish my country were in the same condition as yours.
Sp.—But your country is rich, powerful, united. We are poor, weak, and distracted.
A.—I am thinking of the contrast between your people and ours.