_Paris, March_ 26, 1802.
In visiting a foreign country, and more especially its capital, the
traveller, whose object is instruction, enters into the most minute
details, in order to obtain a complete knowledge of the various
classes of its inhabitants. As Seneca justly observes, in his
epistles, what benefit can a person reap from his travels, who spends
all his time in examining the beauty and magnificence of public
buildings? Will the contemplation of them render him more wise, more
temperate, more liberal in his ideas? Will it remove his prejudices
and errors? It may amuse him for a time, as a child, by the novelty
and variety of objects, which excite an unmeaning admiration. To act
thus, adds the learned stoic, is not to travel, it is to wander, and
lose both one's time and labour.
"_Non est hoc peregrinari, sed erraie_."
Wherefore Horace, in imitation of Homer, says, in praise of Ulysses,
"_Qui mores hominum multorum vidit, et urbes_."
I have, I hope, given you enough of sights and shows; let us then, my
good friend, follow the wise example of the ancients, and take a view
of men and manners.
Owing, in some measure, to the levity of French character, and the
freedom which now prevails generally enough in all society here, this
sort of study, sometimes so tedious, is greatly facilitated. In the
Parisian assemblies of the present day, by an almost continual
collision, self-love discovers the weak side of an individual whose
whole merit consists in a little small-talk, and a rotation of those
_jolis petits riens_, which, seconded by a well-favoured countenance
and an agreeable carriage, have given him in the world the reputation
of an amiable man; while, from another, we see a thousand essential
qualities, concealed under a coarse exterior, force themselves into
notice, and which his modesty, or more frequently his timidity,
prevented him from displaying.
From the preceding preamble, you will naturally conclude that I
purpose to appropriate this letter to a few remarks on the