e with whom he is on
more intimate terms, and who do not value him exclusively, or even
chiefly, for such qualities. His domestic affections are weakened; he
lives for himself and enjoys the present moment without either
reflection or foresight; with the outward appearance of an open friendly
disposition, he becomes, in reality, selfish and interested; that he may
secure general sympathy from indifferent spectators, he is under the
necessity of repressing all strong emotions, and expressions of ardent
feeling, and of confining himself to a worldly and common-place
morality; he learns to value his moral feelings, as well as his
intellectual powers, chiefly for the sake of the display which he can
make of them in society; and to reprobate vice, rather on account of its
outward deformity, than of its intrinsic guilt; gradually he becomes
impatient of restraints on the pleasure which he derives from social
intercourse; and the religious and moral principles of his nature are
sacrificed to the visionary idol to which his love of pleasure and his
love of _glory_ have devoted him.

Such appears to be the state of the minds of most Parisians. They have
been so much accustomed to pride themselves on the outward appearance of
their actions, that they have become regardless of their intrinsic
merits; they have lived so long for _effect_, that they have forgotten
that there is any other principle by which their lives can be regulated.

Of the devotion of the French to the sort of life to which we refer, the
best possible proof is, their fondness for a town life; the small number
of chateaux in the country that are inhabited--and the still more
remarkable scarcity of villas in the neighbourhood of Paris, to which
men of business may retire. There are a few houses of this description
about Belleville and near Malmaison; but in general, you pass from the
noisy and dirty Fauxbourgs at once into the solitude of the country; and
it is quite obvious, that you have left behind you all the scenes in
which the Parisians find enjoyment. The contrast in the neighbourhood of
London, is most striking. It is easy to laugh at the dulness and
vulgarity of a London citizen, who divides his time between his
counting-house and his villa, or at the coarseness and rusticity of an
English country squire; but there is no description of men to whom the
national character of our country is more deeply indebted.

It seems no difficult matter to ascribe mos