1790, "...you must call Paris the most magnificent and most vile,..."

Paris, April 1790

"You view everything and ask: What is Paris? It is not enough to call it the first city in the world, capital of splendor and enchantment. Stop here, if you do not wish to change your opinion, for if you go further you will see crowded streets, an outrageous confusion of wealth and poverty. Close by a glittering jewelry shop, a pile of rotten apples and herrings; everywhere filth and even blood streaming from the butchers' stalls. You must hold your nose and close your eyes. The picture of a splendid city grows dim in your thoughts, and it seems to you that the dirt and muck of all the cities in the world is flowing through the sewers of Paris. Take but one more step, and suddenly the fragrance of happy Arabia or, at least, Provence's flowering meadows, is wafted upon you, for you have come to one of the many shops where perfume and pomade are sold. In a word, every step means a new atmosphere, new objects of luxury or the most loathsome filth. Thus you must call Paris the most magnificent and most vile, the most fragrant and most fetid city."

-- Letters of a Russian Traveler, 1789-1790, N. M. Kazamzin [translated Florence Jonas], 1957, p. 184-185.