ry
question that was put to me.

There are things of surpassing interest in this country, but have any of
us heard an English man or woman ask a foreigner what he thought of us?
Or, if they were silly enough to do so, who would be interested in the
reply?

Some will say that this comes from pride, or insularity; but they would
be wrong. We are not obsessed by the desire to interfere with our
neighbour that is noticeable all over America.

In spite of true generosity and kindliness, I was aware of an
undercurrent of illiberalism and violence which amazed me.

In every city that I have visited there are clubs, both male and female,
to forbid or promote some harmless triviality and until these are
ridiculed they will prevent the United States from ever becoming what we
should call a free country.

Because there is little gallantry and no reserve, people do not
necessarily become of one class. We cannot regulate equality, since we
are born with different brains, natures, and environment, and so far
from being equal, there is such a rigid regard for precedence in America
that you are even congratulated after a dinner party because you have
been seated "one off Mrs. ----".

While more than severe on anyone who accepts a title, there was no
detail too insignificant about our Court or aristocracy that did not
excite an almost emotional interest in my audiences. Every day of my
tour I received letters begging me to tell them more about the life and
habits of our upper classes or anything that I could "about Princess
Mary's underwear."

If these letters had been merely the cackle of the feminine goose who
likes writing to an advertised person, I would have torn them up, but
they were sometimes signed by men, and often expressed the opinions of
important local editors.

One night after I was in bed, having had a long talk with an
intellectual reporter upon the dearth of great literature in his
country, he rang me up to say his paper was annoyed that he had not
brought back an accurate description of my hat and dress.

He apologised profusely, but said that that was what the public really
cared for: that none of our discussion upon Lincoln, Edgar Allan Poe or
William James's fine style, or anything else of interest would be
printed in the morning paper. But what I had said to one of the lady
reporters, when we were left to ourselves, about Princess Mary's
marriage being one of love, would probably be enlarged by headlin