The fever of display has consumed
comfort. A gondola plated with gold was no easier than a black wooden
one. We could well spare a little gilt upon the walls, for more
cleanliness upon the public table; nor is it worth while to cover the
walls with mirrors to reflect a want of comfort. One prefers a wooden
bench to a greasy velvet cushion, and a sanded floor to a soiled and
threadbare carpet. An insipid uniformity is the Procrustes-bed, upon
which "society" is stretched. Every new house is the counterpart of
every other, with the exception of more gilt, if the owner can afford
it. The interior arrangement, instead of being characteristic, instead
of revealing something of the tastes and feelings of the owner, is
rigorously conformed to every other interior. The same hollow and tame
complaisance rules in the intercourse of society. Who dares say
precisely what he thinks upon a great topic? What youth ventures to say
sharp things, of slavery, for instance, at a polite dinner-table? What
girl dares wear curls, when Martelle prescribes puffs or bandeaux? What
specimen of Young America dares have his trousers loose or wear straps
to them? We want individuality, heroism, and, if necessary, an
uncompromising persistence in difference.
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