in the center the round lake where the children sail their boats. Beyond
spreads the wide sweep of the Place de la Concorde, with its obelisk of
terrible significance, its larger fountains throwing brilliant jets of
spray; and then the trailing, upward vista of the Champs Elysees to the
great triumphal arch; yes, even to the most indifferent, Paris is
beautiful.

To the subtler of appreciation, she is more than beautiful; she is
impressive. For behind the studied elegance of architecture, the elaborate
simplicity of garden, the carefully lavish use of sculpture and delicate
spray, is visible the imagination of a race of passionate creators--the
imagination, throughout, of the great artist. One meets it at every turn
and corner, down dim passageways, up steep hills, across bridges, along
sinuous quays; the masterhand and its "infinite capacity for taking
pains." And so marvelously do its manifestations of many periods through
many ages combine to enhance one another that one is convinced that the
genius of Paris has been perennial; that St. Genevieve, her godmother,
bestowed it as an immortal gift when the city was born.

From earliest days every man seems to have caught the spirit of the man
who came before, and to have perpetuated it; by adding his own distinctive
yet always harmonious contribution to the gradual development of the
whole. One built a stately avenue; another erected a church at the end; a
third added a garden on the other side of the church, and terraces leading
up to it; a fourth and fifth cut streets that should give from the
remaining two sides into other flowery squares with their fine edifices.
And so from every viewpoint, and from every part of the entire city,
to-day we have an unbroken series of vistas--each one different and more
charming than the last.