I Have Been Out Again On The

The Spring Is Already Here With Her Hands Full Of Flowers.

American Gentlemen Are A Cross Between English And French Men, And Yet Really Altogether Like Neither. They Are More Refined And Modest Than Frenchmen, And Less Manly, Shy, And Rough, Than Englishmen. Their Brains Are Finer And Flimsier, Their Bodies Less Robust And Vigorous Than Ours. We Are The Finer Animals, And They The Subtler Spirits. Their Intellectual Tendency Is To Excitement And Insanity, And Ours To Stagnation And Stupidity.

I Have Sometimes Been Haunted With The Idea That It Was An Imperative Duty, Knowing What I Know, And Having Seen What I Have Seen, To Do All That Lies In My Power To Show The Dangers And The Evils Of This Frightful Institution.

A Great Number Of The Women Are Victims To Falling Of The Womb And Weakness In The Spine; But These Are Necessary Results Of Their Laborious Existence, And Do Not Belong Either To Climate Or Constitution.

Politics Of All Sorts, I Confess, Are Far Beyond My Limited Powers Of Comprehension. Those Of This Country As Far As I Have Been Able To Observe, Resolve Themselves Into Two Great Motives. The Aristocratic Desire Of Elevation And Separation, And The Democratic Desire Of Demolishing And Levelling.