Chapter III

I hold that kings and noblemen can not breathe in America. When they set foot upon our soil their royalty and their nobility fall away from them like the chains of a slave in England. Whatever a man may be in his own country, here he is only a man. My countrymen may do as they please, but I make a stand for simple American manhood. I will meet no man on this soil who expects from me a greater deference than I could properly accord to a citizen of my own country. My allegiance to republican institutions is slack through lack of faith in them as a practical system of governing men as men are; all the same, I will call no man “your majesty,” nor “your lordship.” For me to meet in my own country a king or a nobleman would require as much preliminary negotiation as an official interview between the Mufti of Moosh and the Ahkoond of Swat. The form of salutation and the style and title of address would have to be settled definitively and with precision.

With some of my most esteemed and patriotic friends the matter is more simple; their generosity in concession fills me with admiration and their forbearance in demand challenges my astonishment as one of the seven wonders of American hospitality. In fancy I see the ceremony of their “presentation,” and as examples of simple republican dignity I commend their posture to the youth of this fair New World, inviting particular attention to the grand, bold curves of character shown in the outlines of the human ham.

DOG