_Paris, December 20, 1801._
What a charming abode is Paris, for a man who can afford to live at
the rate of a thousand or fifteen hundred pounds a year! Pleasures
wait not for him to go in quest of them; they come to him of their
own accord; they spring up, in a manner, under his very feet, and
form around him an officious retinue. Every moment of the day can
present a new gratification to him who knows how to enjoy it; and,
with prudent management, the longest life even would not easily
exhaust so ample a stock.
Paris has long been termed an epitome of the world. But, perhaps,
never could this denomination be applied to it with so much propriety
as at the present moment. The chances of war have not only rendered
it the centre of the fine arts, the museum of the most celebrated
masterpieces in existence, the emporium where the luxury of Europe
comes to procure its superfluities; but the taste for pleasure has
also found means to assemble here all the enjoyments which Nature
seemed to have exclusively appropriated to other climates.
Every country has its charms and advantages. Paris alone appears to
combine them all. Every region, every corner of the globe seems to
vie in hastening to forward hither the tribute of its productions.
Are you an epicure? No delicacy of the table but may be eaten in
Paris.--Are you a toper? No delicious wine but may be drunk, in
Paris.--Are you fond of frequenting places of public entertainment?
No sort of spectacle but may be seen in Paris.--Are you desirous of
improving your mind? No kind of instruction but may be acquired in
Paris.--Are you an admirer of the fair sex? No description of female
beauty but may be obtained in Paris.--Are you partial to the society
of men of extraordinary talents? No great genius but comes to display
his knowledge in Paris.--Are you inclined to discuss military topics?
No hero but brings his laurels to Paris.--In a word, every person,
favoured by Nature or Fortune, flies to enjoy the gifts of either in
Paris. Even every place celebrated in the annals of voluptuousness,
is, as it were, reproduced in Paris, which, in some shape or another,
presents its name or image.
Without going out of this capital, you may, in the season when Nature
puts on her verdant livery, visit _Idalium_, present your incense to
the Graces, and adore, in her temple, the queen of love; while at
_Tivoli_, you may, perhaps, find as many beauties and charms as were
formerly admired at the enchanting spot on the banks of the Anio,
which, under its ancient name of _Tibur_, was so extolled by the
Latin poets; and close to the Boulevard, at _Frascati_, you may, in
that gay season, eat ices as good as those with which Cardinal de
Bernis used to regale his visiters, at his charming villa in the
_Campagna di Roma_. Who therefore need travel farther than Paris to
enjoy every gratification?
If then, towards the close of a war, the most frightful and
destructive that ever was waged, the useful and agreeable seem to
have proceeded here hand in hand in improvement, what may not be
expected in the tranquillity of a few years' peace? Who knows but the
emperor Julian's "_dear Lutetia_" may one day vie in splendour with
Thebes and its hundred gates, or ancient Rome covering its seven
mountains?
However, if _Tivoli_ and _Frascati_ throw open their delightful
recesses to the votaries of pleasure only in spring and summer, even
now, during the fogs of December, you may repair to