Transcribed from the 1887 Macmillan and Co. edition ,email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk. Proofing by Andy McLauchan and DavidStapleton.
FROM MISS MIRANDA MOPE, IN PARIS, TO MRS. ABRAHAM C. MOPE, AT BANGOR,MAINE.
September 5th, 1879.
My dear mother—I have kept you posted as far as Tuesday weeklast, and, although my letter will not have reached you yet, I willbegin another before my news accumulates too much. I am glad youshow my letters round in the family, for I like them all to know whatI am doing, and I can’t write to every one, though I try to answerall reasonable expectations. But there are a great many unreasonableones, as I suppose you know—not yours, dear mother, for I am boundto say that you never required of me more than was natural. Yousee you are reaping your reward: I write to you before I write to anyone else.
There is one thing, I hope—that you don’t show any ofmy letters to William Platt. If he wants to see any of my letters,he knows the right way to go to work. I wouldn’t have himsee one of these letters, written for circulation in the family, foranything in the world. If he wants one for himself, he has gotto write to me first. Let him write to me first, and then I willsee about answering him. You can show him this if you like; butif you show him anything more, I will never write to you again.
I told you in my last about my farewell to England, my crossing theChannel, and my first impressions of Paris. I have thought a greatdeal about that lovely England since I left it, and all the famous historicscenes I visited; but I have come to the conclusion that it is not acountry in which I should care to reside. The position of womandoes not seem to me at all satisfactory, and that is a point, you know,on which I feel very strongly. It seems to me that in Englandthey play a very faded-out part, and those with whom I conversed hada kind of depressed and humiliated tone; a little dull, tame look, asif they were used to being snubbed and bullied, which made me want togive them a good shaking. There are a great many people—anda great many things, too—over here that I should like to performthat operation upon. I should like to shake the starch out ofsome of them, and the dust out of the others. I know fifty girlsin Bangor that come much more up to my notion of the stand a truly noblewoman should take, than those young ladies in England. But theyhad a most lovely way of speaking (in England), and the men are remarkablyhandsome. (You can show this to William Platt, if you like.)
I gave you my first impressions of Paris, which quite came up tomy expectations, much as I had heard and read about it. The objectsof interest are extremely numerous, and the climate is remarkably cheerfuland sunny. I should say the position of woman here was considerablyhigher, though by no means coming up to the American standard. The manners of the people are in some respects extremely peculiar, andI feel at last that I am indeed in foreign parts. It is,however, a truly elegant city (very superior to New York), and I havespent 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 havebeen most indefatigable; for I am keeping, as I told you before, a mostexhaustive journal, which I will allow you the privilegeof reading on my return to Bangor. I am getting on remarkablywell, 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 travellingin Europe by herself of which we heard so much before I left, and Idon’t expect I ever sh