But In His Aspirations He
Is More Limited Than An Englishman.
The ambitious American never
soars so high as the ambitious Englishman.
He does not even see up
to so great a height, and, when he has raised himself somewhat
above the crowd, becomes sooner dizzy with his own altitude. An
American of mark, though always anxious to show his mark, is always
fearful of a fall. In his tastes the American imitates the
Frenchman. Who shall dare to say that he is wrong, seeing that in
general matters of design and luxury the French have won for
themselves the foremost name? I will not say that the American is
wrong, but I cannot avoid thinking that he is so. I detest what is
called French taste; but the world is against me. When I
complained to a landlord of a hotel out in the West that his
furniture was useless; that I could not write at a marble table
whose outside rim was curved into fantastic shapes; that a gold
clock in my bed-room which did not go would give me no aid in
washing myself; that a heavy, immovable curtain shut out the light;
and that papier-mache chairs with small, fluffy velvet seats were
bad to sit on, he answered me completely by telling me that his
house had been furnished not in accordance with the taste of
England, but with that of France. I acknowledged the rebuke, gave
up my pursuits of literature and cleanliness, and hurried out of
the house as quickly as I could.
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