e
place where the two branches enclosing the Ile du Palais unite,
immediately to the west of that island, the breadth of the Seine at
Paris is no where greater than about 550 English feet, and at some
points it is not more than half that distance from the one bank to
the other. The bridges, therefore, by which the Seine is traversed,
are not to be compared in point of magnitude with those of the Thames
at London. Even the Pont Neuf, which connects the Ile du Palais with
both the northern and the southern divisions of the city, and
comprehends in fact two bridges, with an intermediate street, is
shorter taken altogether, than Waterloo bridge by more than 200 feet;
and the Pont Louis XVI., which next to the Pont Neuf is the longest of
the Parisian stone bridges, measures only about 485 feet between the
abutments, while Westminster Bridge measures 1223, and Waterloo Bridge
1242 feet. It is in the _number_ of its bridges alone, therefore, that
the Seine is superior to the Thames.

_The Boulevards._

The most remarkable feature in the general appearance of Paris, is the
inner inclosure formed by the celebrated road called the _Boulevards._
On the north side of the river, the Boulevards follow a line nearly
midway, on an average, between the river and the wall. The space which
they comprehend, therefore, is but a small portion of that included
within the outer boundary of the city. The length of this part of the
road is about 5,200 English yards, or somewhat under three miles. That
on the south side of the river is of far greater extent, approaching,
as it does, throughout its whole sweep, very much closer to the wall,
and in some parts entirely coinciding with it. It measures about
16,000 yards, or above nine miles in length. Each of these lines,
although in reality forming an uninterrupted road from its
commencement to its termination, is divided into a succession of
parts, each having its particular name. The northern Boulevards are
twelve in number, the southern seven. We have nothing in England like
the Parisian Boulevards. They may be generally described as a road or
street, of great breadth, along each side of which are planted double
rows of elms. But these shady avenues do not present merely a picture
of rural beauty. Rising as they do in the heart of a great city, they
partake also of its artificial elegance and splendour, and are
associated with all the luxuries of architectural decoration.
Considered merely as