a range of streets, the Boulevards are hardly
rivalled by any other part of Paris. Those to the north of the river
are lined on both sides throughout their whole extent, by buildings
more uniformly handsome than are those of almost any other street in
the city, and by many which may be even described as magnificent. Some
of these are private residences; others are shops, cafes, public
hotels, and theatres. The crowds by whom so many parts of these
Boulevards are frequented chiefly give to the scene its singular
liveliness and brilliancy. The southern Boulevards, though equally
beautiful, are far from being so much the habitual resort of the
citizens; but the walks on this very account, have a charm for some
moods of mind which the others want. Another road, planted in a
similar manner, has more recently been carried round the outside of
the present walls of the city. It is distinguished from the inner
Boulevards by the name of the _Boulevards Exterieurs._

_Streets._

To a person accustomed to the appearance of the streets of London, or
indeed of any other English town, those of the interior of Paris will
present considerable novelty of aspect. The extreme narrowness, in the
first place, of those in the more ancient parts of the city, and the
great height of the houses, with their windows in many cases fortified
by bars of iron, would alone give them an air of gloom and precaution,
almost sufficient to impress the Englishman who walks through them
with the feeling that he has been transported, not only into another
country, but into another age. Even where these indications of the
more ancient evils of Paris are not visible, the general aspect of the
town shows that it has not grown with the growth of a free people,
amongst whom the inequalities of rank have been softened down by
respect to the comforts of all classes. Under the ancient regime,
which was in full activity half a century ago, there were only two
classes in Paris, the _noblesse_, and the _bourgeoisie_; and the
latter, being driven into the gutters by the carriage-wheels of their
arrogant masters, went by the general name of the _canaille._ Few of
the streets even now have any side pavement for foot passengers--that
invaluable accommodation which gives such perfect security to the
pedestrian even in our most crowded and tumultuous thoroughfare. The
causeway itself, on which walkers and drivers are thus mingled
together in confusion, is often most uneven a