The Sun.
London, England, 1806-11-21 00:00:00

•
I[PRI4,3E

PARIS AS fl is.

'{FROM .GERMAN •
A Philesophicgi Writer*, under the' prete.ict of
-giving the
..World a Pianre of Paris, has pUblished
six_large volumes,. which are intrch. admired-by fo-
reigners. We will do justice to his intentions, and
not read his book. He is a charming :fellow •;
thinks in the street,
,writes ahoet every post he
comes to ; and knows every thing, except the art
of pleasing, and standing still. He has - written
sib
volumes on 'Paris. I shall give- a -few pages ofi
the same subjed ; for I hate nothing so much as
prolixity.
At Paris every body builds, and-every body spe-
culates ; there some amuse, many ruin, and very
few enrich themselves'. The multitude live` by the
hopes and the follies of the opulent upstarts:
The Literati excite very little sensation at Paris,
because the spirit of books interests. nobpdy, since
the spirit of business has taken 'possessidn of
'mind. Let us likeWiseneknowleuge, that very little
genius is requisite to compose a Novel, and that mind
is necessary for a Tragedy, which is tlrst read with
presumption, performed with confidence, praised
#ith tuthult, kept up with great expellee, and iS
totally destitute of every qualification that caul con:i-
nland success.
The Dranda, it is true, is rather negleaed, and
for this very reason, because the Theatres are so un-
t hnionlywellfrequented, However paradoXteal this
observation may at first sight appear, it is neverthe-
less.trne. A taste for the Drama makes nu altera-
tion in the manners of society. There is, at Parisa,
an .hour in which all appear equally rich, converse
on the same, subjeas, and occupy themselves with
'the same things. Pleasure seems to be the only
employment, and gaiety the prevailing eharaneris-
tic. What shall ,we say to the opinion of MARI-
. YAUX, who maintained, that people who are not
offended by any thing, are not titter for society than
ihose who take offence at every thing ? _ _

Reading and study are almost totally relinquished.
How many things are thete which it is dangerous
to learn ; and how many others, the knowledge of
which.is oftio service ! Fame is no longar the ob-
jeti to which we aspire, but wealth. Our Very au-
thors are ,a kind of literary financiers. There are un-
dertakers and composers of histories, trai els, new
plays; necrologies, &c. It was formerly said, that
the sciences knew no difference et.tank, but rather
destroyed them, and conferred. distinctions which
persons of the highest quality could not always at 7
tain. This fashion is past, the present generation
takes delght only in what is.ridiculous.
As it is absolutely necessary to be rich, in order to
enjoy plea,ure, the exterior of le:pones; tind'a kind
Of consideration, no, means are telt untried to ob 7
bin wealth. :Were any one to follow tile path of
;virtue, I am convinced that he 'would procurc ap-
plause, were it only because ,he would have very few
competitors.
• A talent which is on the decline at Paris is, that of
:conversation. Every thing is absorbed in the vortex
of gaining. People in years still, retain seine sparks
qf gaiety ; but, upon the whole, nothing is mire
insipid, inure frivolens, more silly, than a handsome
WOITIAII 'With whom you are not la' 10., e.
most affront her if you speak :to her of any thing
else than her face. Nothing is so atfeeted, so me-
thodical, so full of pretensions, as Ladies of this •
description. They rule despotically over your con-
versation, your taste, your ideas. But nothing is so
formal, so disgusting, as a woman of genius, who
writes little books, and reads them to great con-
noisseurs. One of these Ladies lately said. to me,
To speak • much and well, is the talent of the hl
espy it; to speak littleand well, is the chartherofa wise
man ; to speak ,and ill, is the unfortunate
fate of the silly.' —" And, to speak like you, Ma-
dame„'', replied 1,." is to speak like a, book."—
She blushed, and has not since invite& me to her
house.
Scarcely any but Foreigners frequent the Garden
of Plants, the Libraries, the Museiim, the works in
_ the Louvre, the public trionuments, which are she
luxury of great Empires, and the ornaments of their
capitals. The inhabitants of Paris have so many
occupations to attend to, so many invitations
which they cannot refuse, so -many solicit,is
tious which they have promised 'to make, so enact y.
unprefikable or sacred assignations, so, many letter.
to write, so many Ladies to console, so many in-
teresting men to visit, that the misrrow almost always
surprises them before they has e commenced the hioi-
ness of the day.
Laughing is out of fashion. at Paris ; in the pro.
nienades people yawn ; iii the saloons Of company
they play ; at the Theatres they roar ; in the city
they tutect to prefer the country ; and in the country
they propagate the occupations of the city. Every
one is eager to exchange his condition. lie is ,a
caputte man Who•relinquishes a profession in which
he lived obscure and tranquil, to aspire to a place
of uncertain duration, and which is sure to ruin hint
who holds it.
What is Mr. Such-a7one doing ?" "it cst
nul," is the reply. " Nobody speaks of him." SO
much the better for him: - What can be said of a
quiet peaceable man, who, satisfied with the 'me-
diocrity of his lot, seeks not •to rare-_ himself by
means.of intrigue, but spends his days in the select
circle of tried souls, in the bosoms of the arts, and
of friendship !
' In my opinion, the Parisians surpass all other
people in is., taste. for the pleasures of the stable
(gormandise) ; we have often a poem on "Gas-
truhomj ; an Almanac!: des Gourmands,- a J4ul7;ul
des Gourmands, and all these works, have an asto-
'nishing sale. A celebrated restaurateur is a per-
son of importance ; there is nothing to which he
may not aspire. In like manner a good cook is
.a. very reputable artist, he generally has souse

otubue,