England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- England -- Fiction
The good people of the Great City possess but a slight idea of the light
in which they and the modern Babylon are regarded by the remote and
rustic natives of the provinces. Colin partook largely of the general
sentiment respecting that wonderful place, and its, in many respects,
scarcely less marvellous people. To him, in common with every other
child of village or hamlet, however remote, the name of London had been
familiar almost from the cradle. He knew not the time when he knew it
first; and the idea presented by it was that of some great,
undefined, and unknown place, which had no equal in the world, nor
resemblance--(save in that it was composed of buildings and endless
streets)--to anything he had ever seen. It was a vast spectre, without
shape, and measureless, looming in the misty atmosphere of a doubtful
mind, like the ideal pictures of cities and the wonderful palaces of
gnomes and genii, after reading some marvellous Arabian tale. Then,
with the rustic inhabitants of every remote place, anything uncommon or
superior is always presumed to have come from London, and to say that
it came thence, is at once to confer upon it a higher ideal value. Many
a worthless trinket brought by some wandering pedlar is purchased, and
afterwards miraculously preserved from juvenile spoliation amidst the
wreck of all other toys, merely because it came from London. The very
appearance in a village of an individual of more than usual gentility,
startling the bumpkins with a “sight” on some fine summer's morning, is
of itself taken as presumptive evidence that he very probably came from
London. Any innovation or improvement in dress or manners is promptly
and naturally supposed to have had its origin in London. London is the
place, in short, where everything is great,--where everything of
the best is made,--where all the first people of the world do
congregate,--where it is very needful to look sharp about you lest
your very eyes get picked out without your knowing it until they are
gone,--where the most cunning thieves are always at your elbow,--where
everything worth seeing is to be seen, and worth hearing to be
heard,--where anybody may chance to succeed, though he could succeed
nowhere else,--and where, finally, for some one or other or all of these
causes, every man, woman, girl, and boy express a wish to go to before
they die.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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