IT was ten o’clock the next morning when I arose and looked at my watch. I thought it might be eight-thirty, or seven. The day was slightly gray with spray flying. There was a strong wind. The sea was really a boisterous1 thing, thrashing and heaving in hills and hollows. I was thinking of Kipling’s “White Horses” for a while. There were several things about this great ship which were unique. It was a beautiful thing all told—its long cherry-wood, paneled halls in the first-class section, its heavy porcelain2 baths, its dainty staterooms fitted with lamps, bureaus, writing-desks, washstands, closets and the like. I liked the idea of dressing3 for dinner and seeing everything quite stately and formal. The little be-buttoned call-boys in their tight-fitting blue suits amused me. And the bugler5 who bugled6 for dinner! That was a most musical sound he made, trilling in the various quarters gaily7, as much as to say, “This is a very joyous8 event, ladies and gentlemen; we are all happy; come, come; it is a delightful9 feast.” I saw him one day in the lobby of C deck, his legs spread far apart, the bugle4 to his lips, no evidence of the rolling ship in his erectness10, bugling11 heartily12. It was like something out of an old medieval court or a play. Very nice and worth while.
Absolutely ignorant of this world of the sea, the social, domestic, culinary and other economies of a great ship like this interested me from the start. It impressed me no little that all the servants were English, and that17 they were, shall I say, polite?—well, if not that, non-aggressive. American servants—I could write a whole chapter on that, but we haven’t any servants in America. We don’t know how to be servants. It isn’t in us; it isn’t nice to be a servant; it isn’t democratic; and spiritually I don’t blame us. In America, with our turn for mechanics, we shall have to invent something which will do away with the need of servants. What it is to be, I haven’t the faintest idea at present.
Another thing that impressed and irritated me a little was the stolidity13 of the English countenance14 as I encountered it here on this ship. I didn’t know then whether it was accidental in this case, or national. There is a certain type of Englishman—the robust15, rosy16-cheeked, blue-eyed Saxon—whom I cordially dislike, I think, speaking temperamentally and artistically17. They are too solid, too rosy, too immobile as to their faces, and altogether too assured and stary. I don’t like them. They offend me. They thrust a silly race pride into my face, which isn’t necessary at all and which I always resent with a race pride of my own. It has even occurred to me at times that these temperamental race differences could be quickly adjusted only by an appeal to arms, which is sillier yet. But so goes life. It’s foolish on both sides, but I mention it for what it is worth.
After lunch, which was also breakfast with me, I went with the chief engineer through the engine-room. This was a pit eighty feet deep, forty feet wide and, perhaps, one hundred feet long, filled with machinery18. What a strange world! I know absolutely nothing of machinery—not a single principle connected with it—and yet I am intensely interested. These boilers19, pipes, funnels20, pistons21, gages, registers and bright-faced register boards speak of a vast technique which to me is tremendously impressive. I know scarcely anything of the history of18 mechanics, but I know what boilers and feed-pipes and escape-pipes are, and how complicated machinery is automatically oiled and reciprocated22, and there my knowledge ends. All that I know about the rest is what the race knows. There are mechanical and electrical engineers. They devised the reciprocating23 engine for vessels25 and then the turbine. They have worked out the theory of electrical control and have installed vast systems with a wonderful economy as to power and space. This deep pit was like some vast, sad dream of a fevered mind. It clanked and rattled26 and hissed27 and squeaked29 with almost insane contrariety! There were narrow, steep, oil-stained stairs, very hot, or very cold and very slippery, that wound here and there in strange ways, and if you were not careful there were moving rods and wheels to strike you. You passed from bridge to bridge under whirling wheels, over clanking pistons; passed hot containers; passed cold ones. Here men were standing30, blue-jumpered assistants in oil-stained caps and gloves—thin caps and thick gloves—watching the manœuvers of this vast network of steel, far from the passenger life of the vessel24. Occasionally they touched something. They were down in the very heart or the bowels31 of this thing, away from the sound of the water; away partially32 from the heaviest motion of the ship; listening only to the clank, clank and whir, whir and hiss28, hiss all day long. It is a metal world they live in, a hard, bright metal world. Everything is hard, everything fixed33, everything regular. If they look up, behold34 a huge, complicated scaffolding of steel; noise and heat and regularity35.
I shouldn’t like that, I think. My soul would grow weary. It would pall36. I like the softness of scenery, the haze37, the uncertainty38 of the world outside. Life is better than rigidity39 and fixed motion, I hope. I trust the universe is not mechanical, but mystically blind.19 Let’s hope it’s a vague, uncertain, but divine idea. We know it is beautiful. It must be so.
The wind-up of this day occurred in the lounging- or reception-room where, after dinner, we all retired40 to listen to the music, and then began one of those really interesting conversations between Barfleur and Miss X. which sometimes illuminate41 life and make one see things differently forever afterward42.
It is going to be very hard for me to define just how this could be, but I might say that I had at the moment considerable intellectual contempt for the point of view which the conversation represented. Consider first the American attitude. With us (not the established rich, but the hopeful, ambitious American who has nothing, comes from nothing and hopes to be President of the United States or John D. Rockefeller) the business of life is not living, but achieving. Roughly speaking, we are willing to go hungry, dirty, to wait in the cold and fight gamely, if in the end we can achieve one or more of the seven stars in the human crown of life—social, intellectual, moral, financial, physical, spiritual or material supremacy43. Several of the forms of supremacy may seem the same, but they are not. Examine them closely. The average American is not born to place. He does not know what the English sense of order is. We have not that national esprit de corps44 which characterizes the English and the French perhaps; certainly the Germans. We are loose, uncouth45, but, in our way, wonderful. The spirit of God has once more breathed upon the waters.
Well, the gentleman who was doing the talking in this instance and the lady who was coinciding, inciting46, aiding, abetting47, approving and at times leading and demonstrating, represented two different and yet allied48 points of view. Barfleur is distinctly a product of the English20 conservative school of thought, a gentleman who wishes sincerely he was not so conservative. His house is in order. You can feel it. I have always felt it in relation to him. His standards and ideals are fixed. He knows what life ought to be—how it ought to be lived. You would never catch him associating with the rag-tag and bobtail of humanity with any keen sense of human brotherhood49 or emotional tenderness of feeling. They are human beings, of course. They are in the scheme of things, to be sure. But, let it go at that. One cannot be considering the state of the underdog at any particular time. Government is established to do this sort of thing. Statesmen are large, constructive50 servants who are supposed to look after all of us. The masses! Let them behave. Let them accept their state. Let them raise no undue51 row. And let us, above all things, have order and peace.
This is a section of Barfleur—not all, mind you, but a section.
Miss X.—I think I have described her fully52 enough, but I shall add one passing thought. A little experience of Europe—considerable of its show places—had taught her, or convinced her rather, that America did not know how to live. You will hear much of that fact, I am afraid, during the rest of these pages, but it is especially important just here. My lady, prettily53 gowned, perfectly54 manicured, going to meet her lover at London or Fishguard or Liverpool, is absolutely satisfied that America does not know how to live. She herself has almost learned. She is most comfortably provided for at present. Anyhow, she has champagne55 every night at dinner. Her equipment in the matter of toilet articles and leather traveling bags is all that it should be. The latter are colored to suit her complexion56 and gowns. She is scented57, polished, looked after, and all men pay her attention. She is vain, beautiful, and she thinks that America is raw, uncouth; that its citizens of whom she is one, do not know how to live. Quite so. Now we come to the point.
It would be hard to describe this conversation. It began with some “have you been’s,” I think, and concerned eating-places and modes of entertainment in London, Paris and Monte Carlo. I gathered by degrees, that in London, Paris and elsewhere there were a hundred restaurants, a hundred places to live, each finer than the other. I heard of liberty of thought and freedom of action and pride of motion which made me understand that there is a free-masonry which concerns the art of living, which is shared only by the initiated58. There was a world in which conventions, as to morals, have no place; in which ethics59 and religion are tabooed. Art is the point. The joys of this world are sex, beauty, food, clothing, art. I should say money, of course, but money is presupposed. You must have it.
“Oh, I went to that place one day and then I was glad enough to get back to the Ritz at forty francs for my room.” She was talking of her room by the day, and the food, of course, was extra. The other hotel had been a little bit quiet or dingy60.
I opened my eyes slightly, for I thought Paris was reasonable; but not so—no more so than New York, I understood, if you did the same things.
“And, oh, the life!” said Miss X. at one point. “Americans don’t know how to live. They are all engaged in doing something. They are such beginners. They are only interested in money. They don’t know. I see them in Paris now and then.” She lifted her hand. “Here in Europe people understand life better. They know. They know before they begin how much it will take to do the things that they want to do and they start22 out to make that much—not a fortune—just enough to do the things that they want to do. When they get that they retire and live.”
“And what do they do when they live?” I asked. “What do they call living?”
“Oh, having a nice country-house within a short traveling distance of London or Paris, and being able to dine at the best restaurants and visit the best theaters once or twice a week; to go to Paris or Monte Carlo or Scheveningen or Ostend two or three or four, or as many times a year as they please; to wear good clothes and to be thoroughly61 comfortable.”
“That is not a bad standard,” I said, and then I added, “And what else do they do?”
“And what else should they do? Isn’t that enough?”
And there you have the European standard according to Miss X. as contrasted with the American standard which is, or has been up to this time, something decidedly different, I am sure. We have not been so eager to live. Our idea has been to work. No American that I have ever known has had the idea of laying up just so much, a moderate amount, and then retiring and living. He has had quite another thought in his mind. The American—the average American—I am sure loves power, the ability to do something, far more earnestly than he loves mere62 living. He wants to be an officer or a director of something, a poet, anything you please for the sake of being it—not for the sake of living. He loves power, authority, to be able to say, “Go and he goeth,” or, “Come and he cometh.” The rest he will waive63. Mere comfort? You can have that. But even that, according to Miss X., was not enough for her. She had told me before, and this conversation brought it out again, that her thoughts were of summer and winter resorts, exquisite64 creations in the way of clothing, diamonds,23 open balconies of restaurants commanding charming vistas65, gambling66 tables at Monte Carlo, Aix-les-Bains, Ostend and elsewhere, to say nothing of absolutely untrammeled sex relations. English conventional women were frumps and fools. They had never learned how to live; they had never understood what the joy of freedom in sex was. Morals—they are built up on a lack of imagination and physical vigor67; tenderness—well, you have to take care of yourself; duty—there isn’t any such thing. If there is, it’s one’s duty to get along and have money and be happy.
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1
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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bugler
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| 喇叭手； 号兵； 吹鼓手； 司号员 | |
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bugled
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| 吹号（bugle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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erectness
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| n.直立 | |
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bugling
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| 吹号（bugle的现在分词形式） | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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13
stolidity
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| n.迟钝，感觉麻木 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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artistically
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| adv.艺术性地 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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boilers
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| 锅炉，烧水器，水壶( boiler的名词复数 ) | |
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funnels
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| 漏斗( funnel的名词复数 )； （轮船，火车等的）烟囱 | |
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pistons
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| 活塞( piston的名词复数 ) | |
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reciprocated
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| v.报答，酬答( reciprocate的过去式和过去分词 )；（机器的部件）直线往复运动 | |
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reciprocating
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| adj.往复的；来回的；交替的；摆动的v.报答，酬答( reciprocate的现在分词 )；（机器的部件）直线往复运动 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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bowels
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| n.肠，内脏，内部；肠( bowel的名词复数 )；内部，最深处 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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rigidity
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| adj.钢性，坚硬 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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illuminate
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| vt.照亮，照明；用灯光装饰；说明，阐释 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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inciting
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| 刺激的，煽动的 | |
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abetting
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| v.教唆（犯罪）( abet的现在分词 )；煽动；怂恿；支持 | |
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allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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brotherhood
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| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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constructive
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| adj.建设的，建设性的 | |
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undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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52
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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55
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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56
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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waive
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| vt.放弃，不坚持(规定、要求、权力等) | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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vistas
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| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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