it
for a little less than they would have to pay in a European hotel.
The only very dear hotels I have come across in the United States are
those of Virginia. There I have been charged as much as two dollars a
day, but never in my life did I pay so dear for what I had, never in my
life did I see so many dirty rooms or so many messes that were unfit for
human food.
But I will just say this much for the American refinement of feeling to
be met with, even in the hotels of Virginia, even in the "lunch" rooms
in small stations, you are supplied, at the end of each meal, with a
bowl of water--to rinse your mouth.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER V.
MY OPENING LECTURE--REFLECTIONS ON AUDIENCES I HAVE HAD--THE MAN WHO
WON'T SMILE--THE ONE WHO LAUGHS TOO SOON, AND MANY OTHERS.
_Boston, January 7._
Began my second American tour under most favorable auspices last night,
in the Tremont Temple. The huge hall was crowded with an audience of
about 2500 people--a most kind, warm, keen, and appreciative audience. I
was a little afraid of the Bostonians; I had heard so much about their
power of criticism that I had almost come to the conclusion that it was
next to impossible to please them. The Boston newspapers this morning
give full reports of my lecture. All of them are kind and most
favorable. This is a good start, and I feel hopeful.
The subject of my lecture was "A National Portrait Gallery of the
Anglo-Saxon Races," in which I delineated the English, the Scotch, and
the American characters. Strange to say, my Scotch sketches seemed to
tickle them most. This, however, I can explain to myself. Scotch "wut"
is more like American humor than any kind of wit I know. There is about
it the same dryness, the same quaintness, the same preposterousness, the
same subtlety.
[Illustration: BOSTON.]
My Boston audience also seemed to enjoy my criticisms of America and the
Americans, which disposes of the absurd belief that the Americans will
not listen to the criticism of their country. There are Americans and
Americans, as there is criticism and criticism. If you can speak of
people's virtues without flattery; if you can speak of their weaknesses
and failings with kindness and good humor, I believe you can criticise
to your heart's content without ever fearing to give offense to
intelligent and fair-minded people. I admire and love the Americans. How
could they help seeing it through all the little criticisms that
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