Paris is nearly of a circular form. It stretches along the Seine about four miles and a half, and its breadth, at right angles with the river, is about four miles. It was surrounded in 1785, to prevent the illicit introduction of all exciscable articles, by a wall, seventeen miles in cir cumference ; but as this wall incloses towards the west a considerable space of ground unoccupied with buildings, its real extent may be comprised in a circuit of not more than fourteen miles. London, with its suburbs, is ex tended over a much larger surface, but the French capital is more compactly built, contains much higher houses, and is more densely inhabited. The population of Paris, in 1817, amounted to 7 i5,000—about two thirds of that of the British metropolis. Paris consists of three divi sions—the cite, which lies in the centre,—the vile in the north,—and the univcrsve in the south. The cite, which is built on one of the two islands, (L'Isle St. Louis and L'Isle Notre Dame) formed by the Seine, and comprises the site of the ancient Lutetia, is the original capital, and contains the greater number of important edifices. There are other subordinate divisions, designed to facilitate the administration of justice, which it is of no importance at present to specify. The Fauxbourgs of Paris, those build ings which lie between the Boulevards and the new wall, still retain their individual names ; but as in every sense they form no inconsiderable part of the French capital, they are included in the foregoing description.
The general appearance of this metropolis to a stranger is not of the most fascinating kind. With the exception, indeed, of the public edifices, which. as we shall soon see, are extremely numerous and elegant, and of the new streets, the impression which it is calculated to make is by no means favourable. The streets are crooked, narrow, particularly when contrasted with the height of the houses, ill-paved, and destitute of every accommodation for foot passengers. Every thing like regularity seems to have been studiously avoided. Paris can exhibit no long line of houses, such as you find in London, and particularly in Edinburgh, of equal dimensions, and of the same species of architecture. All the houses are indeed built of stone, —all those of an ancient date are remarkable for height, often six or seven stories, like the buildings of our Scottish metropolis,—and are inhabited by a great variety of fami lies ; but they possess no other points of similarity ; and adjoining houses, in height, in workmanship, and in al most every other respect, often form a contrast to each other. And it not unfrequently happens, that a humble mansion, inhabited by the very meanest of the citizens, is situated beside a large edifice, the residence of some one of the most illustrious men of France. Sometimes also, a splendid gateway, which to an English traveller would suggest the idea of rank and opulence, is found to lead in to a court distinguished only for filth and wretchedness.
And, what a stranger regrets almost as much, some of the finest houses are completely concealed from their fronting inward, or from a high wall, erected to intercept the view from the street. In the division denominated the City. which, as formerly mentioned, was the site of an cient Lutetia, the buildings, with the exception of the public edifices, are the most inelegant, and they are found to improve gradually according to the period in which they were finished The modern streets are, therefore, the most handsome. The Fauxbourg St. Germain, in particular, can boast of the finest streets in Paris, if not in Europe ; and their beauty is much heightened by the detached villas and palaces v4hich they contain, surrounded with gardens, in which the lilac, the laburnum, the acacia, are chiefly conspicuous. The houses, or, as they are termed, the hotels, of the nobility and opulent gentry, are situated either in this place or on the same side of the town, though many of the most distinguished characters still continue to reside in streets which seem exclusively devoted to the poor and the vulgar.
But, to the general inelegance of the streets of Paris, there is, beside the Fauxbourg St. Germain, another re markable exception, namely, the Boulevards, the most spacious and extensive street of the French metropolis. This street occupies the space where the ramparts of the city were placed, in an age when its circumference did not exceed seven miles. This space, unencumbered by buildings, was levelled, and converted to its present use during the reigns of Louis XIV. and his successor. The Boulevards are of a circular form, and consist of two rows of building, all of them elegant, and some of them splen did, detached palaces. The general width of the street, is above 200 feet. The road in the centre is flanked by two rows of stately trees, and between each row of trees and the parallel line of buildings are elegant walks, for the accommodation of foot passengers. The effect of the Boulevards, particularly with strangers, is inexpressibly grand. The magnificence of the houses, which, from the great breadth of the street, are each seen in the most fa vourable aspect—the majestic trees with which the place is adorned—the winding form of the street, which at the same time suggests the idea of its almost unbounded mag nitude, and prevents the eye from being wearied with the extent of the view which it contemplates—these, com bined with the bustle and animation which on every side invite attention, form a most striking picture, and render the Boulevards of Paris one of the most interesting and splendid lines of buildings which any modern city can exhibit.