A Bundle of Letters | Page 4

take, than those young
ladies in England. But they had a most lovely way of speaking (in
England), and the men are REMARKABLY HANDSOME. (You can
show this to William Platt, if you like.)
I gave you my first impressions of Paris, which quite came up to my
expectations, much as I had heard and read about it. The objects of
interest are extremely numerous, and the climate is remarkably cheerful
and sunny. I should say the position of woman here was considerably
higher, though by no means coming up to the American standard. The
manners of the people are in some respects extremely peculiar, and I
feel at last that I am indeed in FOREIGN PARTS. It is, however, a
truly elegant city (very superior to New York), and I have spent a great
deal of time in visiting the various monuments and palaces. I won't give
you an account of all my wanderings, though I have been most
indefatigable; for I am keeping, as I told you before, a most
EXHAUSTIVE journal, which I will allow you the PRIVILEGE of
reading on my return to Bangor. I am getting on remarkably well, and I
must say I am sometimes surprised at my universal good fortune. It
only shows what a little energy and common-sense will accomplish. I
have discovered none of these objections to a young lady travelling in
Europe by herself of which we heard so much before I left, and I don't
expect I ever shall, for I certainly don't mean to look for them. I know
what I want, and I always manage to get it.
I have received a great deal of politeness--some of it really most
pressing, and I have experienced no drawbacks whatever. I have made
a great many pleasant acquaintances in travelling round (both ladies
and gentlemen), and had a great many most interesting talks. I have
collected a great deal of information, for which I refer you to my

journal. I assure you my journal is going to be a splendid thing. I do
just exactly as I do in Bangor, and I find I do perfectly right; and at any
rate, I don't care if I don't. I didn't come to Europe to lead a merely
conventional life; I could do that at Bangor. You know I never
WOULD do it at Bangor, so it isn't likely I am going to make myself
miserable over here. So long as I accomplish what I desire, and make
my money hold out, I shall regard the thing as a success. Sometimes I
feel rather lonely, especially in the evening; but I generally manage to
interest myself in something or in some one. In the evening I usually
read up about the objects of interest I have visited during the day, or I
post up my journal. Sometimes I go to the theatre; or else I play the
piano in the public parlour. The public parlour at the hotel isn't much;
but the piano is better than that fearful old thing at the Sebago House.
Sometimes I go downstairs and talk to the lady who keeps the books--a
French lady, who is remarkably polite. She is very pretty, and always
wears a black dress, with the most beautiful fit; she speaks a little
English; she tells me she had to learn it in order to converse with the
Americans who come in such numbers to this hotel. She has given me a
great deal of information about the position of woman in France, and
much of it is very encouraging. But she has told me at the same time
some things that I should not like to write to you (I am hesitating even
about putting them into my journal), especially if my letters are to be
handed round in the family. I assure you they appear to talk about
things here that we never think of mentioning at Bangor, or even of
thinking about. She seems to think she can tell me everything, because
I told her I was travelling for general culture. Well, I DO want to know
so much that it seems sometimes as if I wanted to know everything;
and yet there are some things that I think I don't want to know. But, as a
general thing, everything is intensely interesting; I don't mean only
everything that this French lady tells me, but everything I see and hear
for myself. I feel really as if I should gain all I desire.
I meet a great many Americans, who, as a general thing, I must say, are
not as polite to me as the people over here. The people over
here--especially the gentlemen--are much more what I should call
ATTENTIVE. I don't know whether Americans are more SINCERE; I