Since then Ford has gone one worse.
Through these white novels of Cooper runs this acid of ant-bites, the formic acid of democratic poisoning. The Effinghams feel superior. Cooper felt superior. Mrs. Cooper felt superior too. And bitten.
For they were democrats. They didn't believe in kings, or lords, or masters, or real superiority of any sort. Before God, of course. In the sight of God, of course, all men were equal. This they believed. And therefore, though they felt terribly superior to Mr. Dodge, yet, since they were his equals in the sight of God, they could not feel free to say to him: "Mr. Dodge, please go to the devil." They had to say: "Pleased to meet you."
What a lie to tell! Democratic lies.
What a dilemma! To feel so superior. To know you are superior. And yet to believe that, in the sight of God, you are equal. Can't help yourself.
Why couldn't they let the Lord Almighty look after the equality, since it seems to happen specifically in His sight, and stick themselves to their own superiority. Why couldn't they?
Somehow, they daren't.
They were Americans, idealists. How dare they balance a mere intense feeling against an IDEA and an IDEAL?
Ideally—i. e., in the sight of God, Mr. Dodge was their equal.
What a low opinion they held of the Almighty's faculty for discrimination.