tual regimen?
You have studied--well, here is a little list of what you have studied,
and probably even this is not complete:--

Greek, Latin, French, German, Italian, mathematics, chemistry,
mineralogy, geology, botany, the theory of music, the practice of music
on two instruments, much theory about painting, the practice of painting
in oil and water-color, photography, etching on copper, etc., etc., etc.

That is to say, six literatures (including English), six sciences
(counting mineralogy and geology as one), and five branches or
departments of the fine arts.

Omitting English literature from our total, as that may be considered to
come by nature to an Englishman, though any real proficiency in it costs
the leisure of years, we have here no less than sixteen different
pursuits. If you like to merge the theory of music and painting in the
practice of those arts, though as a branch of study the theory is really
distinct, we have still fourteen pursuits, any one of which is enough to
occupy the whole of one man's time. If you gave some time daily to each
of these pursuits, you could scarcely give more than half an hour, even
supposing that you had no professional occupation, and that you had no
favorite study, absorbing time to the detriment of the rest.

Now your grandfather, though he would be considered quite an ignorant
country gentleman in these days, had in reality certain intellectual
advantages over his more accomplished descendant. In the first place, he
entirely escaped the sense of pressure, the feeling of not having time
enough to do what he wanted to do. He accumulated his learning as
quietly as a stout lady accumulates her fat, by the daily satisfaction
of his appetite. And at the same time that he escaped the sense of
pressure, he escaped also the miserable sense of imperfection. Of course
he did not know Latin like an ancient Roman, but then he never met with
any ancient Romans to humiliate him by too rapid and half-intelligible
conversation. He met the best Latinists of his day; and felt himself a
master amongst masters. Every time he went into his study, to pass
delightful hours with the noble authors that he loved, he knew that his
admission into that august society would be immediate and complete. He
had to wait in no antechamber of mere linguistic difficulty, but passed
at once into the atmosphere of ancient thought, and breathed its
delicate perfume. In this great privilege of instant admission