Most of the historic cities of Europe have a distinct local color, a temperament¹, if one may be allowed the expression, of their own.  The austere² calm of Bruges or Ghent, the sensuous³ beauty of Naples, attract different natures.  Florence has passionate⁴ devotees, who are insensible to the artistic⁵ grace of Venice or the stately quiet of Versailles.  In Cairo one experiences an exquisite⁶ bien être, a mindless, ambitionless contentment which, without being languor⁷, soothes⁸ the nerves and tempts⁹ to indolent lotus-eating.  Like a great hive, Rome depends on the memories that circle around her, storing, like bees, the centuries with their honey.  Each of these cities must therefore leave many people unmoved, who after a passing visit, wander away, wondering at the enthusiasm of the worshippers.  
Paris alone seems to possess the charm that bewitches all conditions, all ages, all degrees.  To hold the frivolous-minded she paints her face and dances, leading them a round of folly¹⁰, exhaustive alike to health and purse.  For the student she assumes another mien¹¹, smiling encouragement, and urging him upward towards the highest standards, while posing as his model.  She takes the dreaming lover of the past gently by the hand, and leading him into quiet streets and squares where she has stored away a wealth of hidden treasure, enslaves him as completely as her more sensual admirers.
 
Paris is no less adored by the vacant-minded, to whom neither art nor pleasure nor study appeal.  Her caprices in fashion are received by the wives and daughters of the universe as laws, and obeyed with an unwavering faith, a mute obedience¹² that few religions have commanded.  Women who yawn through Italy and the East have, when one meets them in the French capital, the intense manner, the air of separation from things mundane¹³, that is observable in pilgrims approaching the shrine¹⁴ of their deity¹⁵.  Mohammedans at Mecca must have some such look.  In Paris women find themselves in the presence of those high priests whom they have long worshipped from a distance.  It is useless to mention other subjects to the devotee, for they will not fix her attention.  Her thoughts are with her heart, and that is far away.
 
When visiting other cities one feels that they are like honest married women, living quiet family lives, surrounded by their children.  The French Aspasia, on the contrary, has never been true to any vow¹⁶, but has, at the dictate¹⁷ of her passions, changed from royal and imperial to republican lovers, and back again, ruled by no laws but her caprices, and discarding each favorite in turn with insults when she has wearied of him.  Yet sovereigns are her slaves, and leave their lands to linger in her presence; and rich strangers from the four corners of the earth come to throw their fortunes at her feet and bask¹⁸ a moment in her smiles.
 
Like her classic prototype, Paris is also the companion of the philosophers and leads the arts in her train.  Her palaces are the meeting-places of the poets, the sculptors¹⁹, the dramatists, and the painters, who are never weary of celebrating her perfections, nor of working for her adornment²⁰ and amusement.
 
Those who live in the circle of her influence are caught up in a whirlwind of artistic production, and consume their brains and bodies in the vain hope of pleasing their idol²¹ and attracting her attention.  To be loved by Paris is an ordeal²² that few natures can stand, for she wrings²³ the lifeblood from her devotees and then casts them aside into oblivion.  Paris, said one of her greatest writers, “aime à briser ses idoles!”  As Ulysses and his companions fell, in other days, a prey²⁴ to the allurements²⁵ of Circe, so our powerful young nation has fallen more than any other under the influence of the French siren, and brings her a yearly tribute of gold which she receives with avidity, although in her heart there is little fondness for the giver.
 
Americans who were in Paris two years ago had an excellent opportunity of judging the sincerity

Join or Log In! You need to log in to continue reading

Create a new account   I have a account already

	Create an New Account
Email:  (User Name)
Password:	Letters and numbers only. 6-20 characters.
Retype Password:
Screen Name:	Letters and numbers only. 6-50 Characters.
Confirmation Code:	(Please type in the characters in the green image.)

	Login into Your Account
Email:
Password:
	Remember me on this computer.

(Left Keyword <-) Previous: CHAPTER 30—The Dinner and the Drama Back Next: No Data (Right Keyword:->)