But the Americans are in too great a hurry to plant hedges: they have abundance of native material; but a wooden fence is put up in a few weeks, a hedge takes as many years to grow; and, as I said before, an American has not time to be a year about anything. When first the country was settled, the wood was an encumbrance, and it was cut down accordingly: that is by no means the case now; and the only recommendation of these fences is, therefore, the comparative rapidity with which they can be constructed. One of the most amiable and distinguished men of this country once remarked to me, that the Americans were in too great a hurry about every thing they undertook to bring any thing to perfection. And certainly, as far as my observation goes, I should _calculate_ that an American is born, lives, and dies twice as fast as any other human creature. I believe one of the great inducements to this national hurry is, that "time is money," which is true; but it is also true, sometimes, that "most haste makes worst speed." [32] These are two very pretty villages, of Quaker origin, situated in the midst of a fertile and lovely country, and much resorted to during the summer season by the Philadelphians. [33] It has happened to me after a few hours' travelling in a steam-boat to find the white dress, put on fresh in the morning, covered with yellow tobacco stains; nor is this very offensive habit confined to the lower orders alone. I have seen _gentlemen_ spit upon the carpet of the room where they were sitting, in the company of women, without the slightest remorse; and I remember once seeing a gentleman, who was travelling with us, very deliberately void his tobacco-juice into the bottom of the coach, instead of through the windows, to my inexpressible disgust. [34] I wish that somebody would be so obliging as to impress people in general with the extreme excellence of a perception of the _fitness of things_. Besides the intrinsic beauty of works of art, they have a beauty derived from their appropriateness to the situations in which they are placed, and their harmony with the objects which surround them: this minor species of beauty is yet a very great one. If it were more studied, and better understood, public buildings would no longer appear as if they had fallen out of the clouds by chance; parks and plantations would no more have the appearance of nurseries, where the trees were classed by kind, instead of being massed according to their various forms and colours; and Gothic and classic edifices would not so often seem as if they had forsaken their appropriate situations, to rear themselves in climates, and among scenery, with which they in no way harmonise.