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I don't know why this people, which appears so content, is generally of such feeble and delicate
health. The women in particular are extremely thin and appear all of them affected in the chest. I
don't
know whether this state of things must be attributed to the climate, which is variable and passes without
stay from one extreme to the other, or to the manner of life of the women. Here it is an unknown thing to
see a woman working on the soil, or busying herself in any way with the labors in the field; whence it
results that her labors are all within, and are limited to the cares of the household. Perhaps this shut-in
life is unhealthy. I have not seen, since being in America (except in Canada) a single woman bearing the
slightest analogy to our peasant women.
Boston is a city of sixty thousand souls. Its harbor is magnificent; it is situated on the middle of
an island, and you reach it from every side by mens of causeways which have been constructed across
the
water. Much less commercial bustle is to be seen there than in New York, but the general aspect of the
town is much more agreeable. The latter lies on a flat terrain and offers to the eye, no matter from which
side it is observed, but a single row of houses. Boston, on the contrary, is built on uneven and
mountainous ground, in such a way that to the observer at a certain distance, it presents some charming
views. It contains many private houses constructed with taste and elegance; [yet] in the matter of public
edifices, I see but the government house [State House] in the least remarkable. ...
We are lodged here in the best inn in the city (Tremont Hotel). Everything in it is on a grand
scale; about 150 strangers are to be found there at the moment, you are magnificently served, and it is
scarcely more dear than elsewhere. ....
It has seemed to us that here people throw themselves less at the head of strangers than in New
York; but there is more true courtesy. There are in society others besides business men. They are
interested here in the fine arts and in literature; there is a class of persons engaged in neither trade nor
industry and who pastime is to live with all the agreements provided by an advanced civilization. This
class, composed of those who have received from their parents a large fortune to live without engaging in
business, is not very numerous; but it is agreeable.
We dined the other day at Mr. Sear's. He has a fortune of five or six millions, his house is a kind
of
palace, he reigns there in great luxury, he treated us with splendor, I have never anywhere seen dinners
more sumptuous. Among the ornaments of the table was a very pretty lady who is, I believe, his niece. I
chatted at length with her, but I don't even know if I shall see her again, so the attention is a pure loss. It's
absolutely the same with all the beauties I meet. We see a good number of them in society. We take fire
3 or 4 times a week, one driving out the other. But the faces are always new and I think, God pardon me,
that we always tell them the same things, at the risk of complimenting a brunette on the whiteness of her
skin, and a blond on the ebony of her hair. But all that is bagatelle and occupies but a very small place in
the lives of two men of politics, utterly devoted to speculations of the most elevated order.
We have already been present at two Balls, as we shall see a third this evening. The toilette of
the
women is exactly the same as in France; the French mode dominates in the United States, and people
are perfectly in touch with the least revolutions that it undergoes. Many ladies have questioned me on
this subject, and I replied to them (with the same assurance as if they had consulted me on the
penitentiary
system) of coques [bows?] as learnedly as Michalon or Alcibiade could have done.
Music is cultivated here with a little more success than in New York; but the mass haven't the
inner feeling for music. There is a museum where paintings are shown, but as I have not yet seen them, I will
ask your permission to speak no further of it. ...
By nature, it [the Boston aristocracy] is somewhat changeable, because the equal partition of the
inheritance does not allow a fortune to remain long in the same family. On the other hand, the
inheritance
laws are far from being as democratique (equalitarian) as they are with us. In France the equal
division
between all is compulsory; here, when the father of a family dies, the law divides the patrimony equally;
but he had the right to give all his property, personal and real, to a single one of his children, and when
he does so his wish is carried out. This right, which renders paternal authority with more efficacious than
it is with us, has a very great moral influence on all society, outside of the advantage that it has in
preventing the extreme division of properties.
Father, who has just written me and whose letter I received at the same time as yours, says some
very just things on the exceptional position of the United States. It seems as if he had seen with his
own
eyes what goes on here; and I am entirely of his opinion, that American society, its progress and its
prosperity, prove nothing at all, and offer nothing for the imitation of the old nations of Europe.
But I am none the less satisfied thoroughly to understand this republic, of which they speak so
much and from which they claim to draw so many arguments in favor of "democratic" innovations. There
are many people, who, in good faith, consider the United States a powerful argument in favor of republics; I
am very glad to be in a position to reply to them. The study of contemporary peoples is like that of
history; you must study them less to see examples to follow, than to learn to beware of the imitations
people desire to make.
[written] Sept. 16, 1831
(Pierson, p. 351)
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