禁闭
The incognito of an inn is one of its striking privileges -- "Lord of one's self, uncumber'd
with a name." Oh! It is great to shake off the trammels of the world and of public opinion
-- to lose our importunate, tormenting, everlasting personal identity in the elements of
nature, and become the creature of the moment, clear of all ties -- to hold to the
universe only by a dish of sweet-breads, and to owe nothing but the score of the evening
-- and no longer seeking for the applause and meeting with contempt, to be known by no
other title than the Gentleman in the parlour!
The incognito of an inn is one of its striking privileges -- "Lord of one's self, uncumber'd
with a name." Oh! It is great to shake off the trammels of the world and of public opinion
-- to lose our importunate, tormenting, everlasting personal identity in the elements of
nature, and become the creature of the moment, clear of all ties -- to hold to the
universe only by a dish of sweet-breads, and to owe nothing but the score of the evening
-- and no longer seeking for the applause and meeting with contempt, to be known by no
other title than the Gentleman in the parlour!
