at one is apt to
feel on leaving a favourite spot, perhaps for ever. This square, unique
in its kind, occupies the site of the ancient residences of the kings of
France, who abandoned it in consequence of the death of Henri II, in a
tournament. Henri IV caused the present area to be enclosed by hotels,
which are all of brick, a novelty in Paris, and built in the style of
his reign. Fashion has, however, been stronger than the royal will; and
noble ranges of rooms are to be hired here at a fourth of the prices
that are paid for small and crowded apartments near the Tuileries. The
celebrated arsenal, where Sully so often received his royal master, is
near this place, and the Bastile stood at no great distance. In short,
the world has moved, within the last two centuries, directly across the
town.

I can never tire of speaking of the bridges of Paris. By day and by
night have I paused on them to gaze at their views; the word not being
too comprehensive for the crowds and groupings of objects that are
visible from their arches. They are less stupendous and magnificent, as
public works, than the bridges of London, Florence, Dresden, Bordeaux,
and many other European towns, the stream they have to span being
inconsiderable; but their number, the variety of their models, even the
very quaintness of some among them, render them, as a whole, I think,
more interesting than any others that I know. The Pont de Jena is as
near perfection in all respects, perhaps, as a bridge well can be. I
greatly prefer it to the celebrated Ponte della Trinita, at Florence.
Some enormous statues are about to be placed on the Pont Louis XVI,
which, if they do not escape criticism, will, at least, I think, help
the picturesque.

I have now known Paris a sufficient time to watch, with interest, the
progress of the public works. The arch at the Barriere de Neuilly has,
within my observation, risen several feet, and approaches its
completion. The wing, a counterpart of the gallery, that is to enclose
the Carrousel, and finally to convert the Louvre and the Tuileries into
a single edifice, has advanced a long distance, and preparations are
making to clear the area of the few buildings that still remain. When
this design shall be executed, the Palace of the Kings of France will
contain considerably more than a mile of continuous buildings, which
will be erected around a large vacant area. The single room of the
picture-gallery is of itself a quarter of