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people fraying out old silks to obtain the gold and silver threads
from worn…out stuffs； this occupation soon became the rage； nothing
could restrain the delirium of destruction； great ladies tore
priceless tapestries from their walls and brocades from their
furniture； in order to unravel those materials and as the old stock
did not suffice for the demand thousands were spent on new brocades
and velvets； which were instantly destroyed； entertainments were
given where unravelling was the only amusement offered； the entire
court thinking and talking of nothing else for months。
What is the logical deduction to be drawn from all this？ Simply
that people do not see with their eyes or judge with their
understandings； that an all…pervading hypnotism； an ambient
suggestion； at times envelops us taking from people all free will；
and replacing it with the taste and judgment of the moment。
The number of people is small in each generation； who are strong
enough to rise above their surroundings and think for themselves。
The rest are as dry leaves on a stream。 They float along and turn
gayly in the eddies； convinced all the time （as perhaps are the
leaves） that they act entirely from their own volition and that
their movements are having a profound influence on the direction
and force of the current。
CHAPTER 10 … Bohemia
LUNCHING with a talented English comedian and his wife the other
day； the conversation turned on Bohemia； the evasive no…man's…land
that Thackeray referred to； in so many of his books； and to which
he looked back lovingly in his later years； when； as he said； he
had forgotten the road to Prague。
The lady remarked： 〃People have been more than kind to us here in
New York。 We have dined and supped out constantly； and have met
with gracious kindness； such as we can never forget。 But so far we
have not met a single painter； or author； or sculptor； or a man who
has explored a corner of the earth。 Neither have we had the good
luck to find ourselves in the same room with Tesla or Rehan； Edison
or Drew。 We shall regret so much when back in England and are
asked about your people of talent； being obliged to say； 'We never
met any of them。' Why is it？ We have not been in any one circle；
and have pitched our tents in many cities； during our tours over
here； but always with the same result。 We read your American
authors as much as； if not more than； our own。 The names of dozens
of your discoverers and painters are household words in England。
When my husband planned his first tour over here my one idea was；
'How nice it will be！ Now I shall meet those delightful people of
whom I have heard so much。' The disappointment has been complete。
Never one have I seen。〃
I could not but feel how all too true were the remarks of this
intelligent visitor； remembering how quick the society of London is
to welcome a new celebrity or original character； how a place is at
once made for him at every hospitable board； a permanent one to
which he is expected to return； and how no Continental
entertainment is considered complete without some bright particular
star to shine in the firmament。
〃Lion…hunting；〃 I hear my reader say with a sneer。 That may be；
but it makes society worth the candle； which it rarely is over
here。 I realized what I had often vaguely felt before； that the
Bohemia the English lady was looking for was not to be found in
this country； more's the pity。 Not that the elements are lacking。
Far from it； （for even more than in London should we be able to
combine such a society）； but perhaps from a misconception of the
true idea of such a society； due probably to Henry Murger's dreary
book SCENES DE LA VIE DE BOHEME which is chargeable with the fact
that a circle of this kind evokes in the mind of most Americans
visions of a scrubby； poorly…fed and less…washed community； a world
they would hardly dare ask to their tables for fear of some
embarrassing unconventionality of conduct or dress。
Yet that can hardly be the reason； for even in Murger or Paul de
Kock； at their worst； the hero is still a gentleman； and even when
he borrows a friend's coat； it is to go to a great house and among
people of rank。 Besides； we are becoming too cosmopolitan； and
wander too constantly over this little globe； not to have learned
that the Bohemia of 1830 is as completely a thing of the past as a
GRISETTE or a glyphisodon。 It disappeared with Gavarni and the
authors who described it。 Although we have kept the word； its
meaning has gradually changed until it has come to mean something
difficult to define； a will…o'…the…wisp； which one tries vainly to
grasp。 With each decade it has put on a new form and changed its
centre； the one definite fact being that it combines the better
elements of several social layers。
Drop in； if you are in Paris and know the way； at one of Madeleine
Lemaire's informal evenings in her studio。 There you may find the
Prince de Ligne； chatting with Rejane or Coquelin； or Henri
d'Orleans； just back from an expedition into Africa。 A little
further on； Saint…Saens will be running over the keys； preparing an
accompaniment for one of Madame de Tredern's songs。 The Princess
Mathilde （that passionate lover of art） will surely be there； and …
but it is needless to particularize。
Cross the Channel； and get yourself asked to one of Irving's choice
suppers after the play。 You will find the bar； the stage； and the
pulpit represented there； a 〃happy family〃 over which the 〃Prince〃
often presides； smoking cigar after cigar； until the tardy London
daylight appears to break up the entertainment。
For both are centres where the gifted and the travelled meet the
great of the social world； on a footing of perfect equality； and
where； if any prestige is accorded； it is that of brains。 When you
have seen these places and a dozen others like them； you will
realize what the actor's wife had in her mind。
Now； let me whisper to you why I think such circles do not exist in
this country。 In the first place； we are still too provincial in
this big city of ours。 New York always reminds me of a definition
I once heard of California fruit： 〃Very large； with no particular
flavor。〃 We are like a boy； who has had the misfortune to grow too
quickly and look like a man； but whose mind has not kept pace with
his body。 What he knows is undigested and chaotic； while his
appearance makes you expect more of him than he can give … hence
disappointment。
Our society is yet in knickerbockers； and has retained all sorts of
littlenesses and prejudices which older civilizations have long
since relegated to the mental lumber room。 An equivalent to this
point of view you will find in England or France only in the
smaller 〃cathedral〃 cities； and even there the old aristocrats have
t