than without it. As a rule, I always did get it at hotels in
America. But I had no comfort with it. Sherry they do not
understand at all. Of course I am only speaking of hotels. Their
claret they get exclusively from Mr. Gladstone, and, looking at the
quality, have a right to quarrel even with Mr. Gladstone's price.
But it is not the quality of the wine that I hereby intend to
subject to ignominy so much as the want of any opportunity for
drinking it. After dinner, if all that I hear be true, the
gentlemen occasionally drop into the hotel bar and "liquor up." Or
rather this is not done specially after dinner, but, without
prejudice to the hour, at any time that may be found desirable. I
also have "liquored up," but I cannot say that I enjoy the process.
I do not intend hereby to accuse Americans of drinking much; but I
maintain that what they do drink, they drink in the most
uncomfortable manner that the imagination can devise.

The greatest luxury at an English inn is one's tea, one's fire, and
one's book. Such an arrangement is not practicable at an American
hotel. Tea, like breakfast, is a great meal, at which meat should
be eaten, generally with the addition of much jelly, jam, and sweet
preserve; but no person delays over his teacup. I love to have my
teacup emptied and filled with gradual pauses, so that time for
oblivion may accrue, and no exact record be taken. No such meal is
known at American hotels. It is possible to hire a separate room,
and have one's meals served in it; but in doing so a man runs
counter to all the institutions of the country, and a woman does so
equally. A stranger does not wish to be viewed askance by all
around him; and the rule which holds that men at Rome should do as
Romans do, if true anywhere, is true in America. Therefore I say
that in an American inn one can never do as one pleases.