Paris, December 14, 1801.

I have already spoken to you of the Pont Neuf. To the east of it, as you will see by the Plan of Paris, the small islands in the middle of the Seine are connected to its banks by several bridges; while to the west, there are two only, though a third is projected, and, previously to the late rise of the river, workmen were employed in driving piles for the foundation. I shall now describe to you these two bridges, beginning with the

PONT NATIONAL.

Before the revolution, this bridge bore the appellation of Pont Royal, from its having been built by Lewis XIV, and the expenses defrayed but of his privy purse, to supply the place of one of wood, situated opposite to the Louvre, which was carried away by the ice in 1684. It is reckoned one of the most solid bridges in Paris, and, till the existence of the Pont de la Concorde, was the only one built across the river, without taking advantage of the islands above-mentioned. It stands on four piles, forming with the two abutments five elliptical arches of a handsome sweep. The span of the centre arch is seventy-two feet, that of the two adjoining sixty-six, and that of the two outer ones sixty. On each side is a raised pavement for foot-passengers, in the middle of which I should imagine that there is breadth sufficient to admit of four carriages passing abreast.

GABRIEL had undertaken this bridge from the designs of MANSARD. The work was already in a state of forwardness, when, at a pile on the side of the Faubourg St. Germain, the former could not succeed in excluding the water. A Jacobin, not a clubist, but a Jacobin friar, one FRANÇOIS ROMAIN, who had just finished the bridge of Strasburg, was sent for by the king to the assistance of the French architects, and had the honour of completing the rest of the work.

In the time of Henry IV, there was no bridge over this part of the river, which he used frequently to cross in the first boat that presented itself. Returning one day from the chace, in a plain hunting dress, and having with him only two or three gentlemen, he stepped into a skiff to be carried over from the Faubourg St. Germain to the Tuileries. Perceiving that he was not known by the waterman, he asked him what people said of the peace, meaning the peace of Vervins, which was just concluded. "Faith! I don't understand this sort of peace," answered the waterman; "there are taxes on every thing, and even, on this miserable boat, with which I have a hard matter to earn my bread."—"And does not the king," continued Henry, "intend to lighten these taxes?"—"The king is a good kind of man enough," replied the waterman; "but he has a lady who must needs have so many fine gowns and gewgaws; and 'tis we who pay for all that. One would not think so much of it either, if she kept to him only; but, they say, she suffers herself to be kissed by many others."

Henry IV was so amused by this conversation, that, the next morning, he sent for the waterman, and made him repeat, word for word, before the Dutchess of Beaufort, all that he had said the preceding evening. The Dutchess, much irritated, was for having him hanged. "You are a foolish woman," said Henry; "this is a poor devil whom poverty has put out of humour. In future, he shall pay no tax for his boat, and I am convinced that he will then sing every day, Vive Henri! Vive Gabrielle!"

The north end of the Pont National faces the wing of the palace of the Tuileries distinguished by the name of the Pavillon de Flore. From the middle of this bridge, you see the city in a striking point of view. Here, the celebrated Marshal de Catinat used frequently to make it part of his morning's amusement to take his stand, and, while he enjoyed the beauty of the prospect, he opened his purse to the indigent as they passed. That philosophic warrior often declared that he never beheld any thing equal to the coup d'oeil from this station. In fact, on the one side, you discover the superb gallery of the Louvre, extending from that palace to the Tuileries; and, on the other, the Palais du Corps LÉgislatif, and a long range of other magnificent buildings, skirting the quays on each bank of the river.

These quays, nearly to the number of thirty, are faced with stone, and crowned with parapets breast high, which, in eighteen or twenty different spots, open to form watering-places. The Seine, being thus confined within its bed, the eye is never displeased here by the sight of muddy banks like those of the Thames, or the nose offended by the smell arising from the filth which the common sewers convey to the river.

The galiot of St. Cloud regularly takes its departure from the Pont National. Formerly, on Sundays and holidays, it used to be a very entertaining sight to contemplate the Paris cocknies crowding into this vessel. Those who arrived too late, jumped into the first empty boat, which frequently overset, either through the unskilfulness of the waterman, or from being overloaded. In consequence of such accidents, the boats of the Seine are prohibited from taking more than sixteen passengers.

Not many years ago, an excursion to St. Cloud by water, was an important voyage to some of the Parisians, as you may see by referring to the picture which has been drawn of it, under the title of "Voyage de Paris À Saint Cloud par mer, et le retour de Saint Cloud À Paris par terre."

Following the banks of the Seine, towards the west, we next come to the

PONT DE LA CONCORDE.

This bridge, which had long been wished for and projected, was begun in 1787, and finished in 1790. Its southern extremity stands opposite to the Palais du Corps LÉgislatif; while that of the north faces the Place de la Concorde, whence it not only derives its present appellation, but has always experienced every change of name to which the former has been subject.

The lightness of its apearance is less striking to those who have seen the Pont de Neuilly, in which PERRONET, Engineer of bridges and highways, has, by the construction of arches nearly flat, so eminently distinguished himself. He is likewise the architect of this bridge, which is four hundred and sixty-two feet in length by forty-eight in breadth. Like the Pont National, it consists of five elliptical arches. The span of the centre arch is ninety-six feet; that of the collateral ones, eighty-seven; and that of the two others near the abutments, sixty-eight. Under one of the latter is a tracking-path for the facility of navigation.

The piles, which are each nine feet in thickness, have, on their starlings, a species of pillars that support a cornice five feet and a half high. Perpendicularly to these pillars are to rise as many pyramids, which are to be crowned by a parapet with a balustrade: in all these, it is intended to display no less elegance of workmanship than the arches present boldness of design and correctness of execution.

On crossing these bridges, it has often occurred to me, how much the Parisians must envy us the situation of our metropolis. If the Seine, like the Thames, presented the advantage of braving the moderate winds, and of conveying, by regular tides, the productions of the four quarters of the globe to the quays which skirt its banks, what an acquisition would it not be to their puny commerce! What a gratification to their pride to see ships discharging their rich cargoes at the foot of the Pont de la Concorde! The project of the canal of Languedoc must, at first, have apparently presented greater obstacles; yet, by talents and perseverance, these were overcome at a time when the science of machinery of every description was far less understood than it is at the present moment.

It appears from the account of Abbon, a monk of the abbey of St. Germain-des-PrÉs, that, in the year 885, the Swedes, Danes, and Normans, to the number of forty-five thousand men, came to lay siege to Paris, with seven hundred sail of ships, exclusively of the smaller craft, so that, according to this historian, who was an eye-witness of the fact, the river Seine was covered with their vessels for the space of two leagues.

Julius CÆsar tells us, in the third book of his Commentaries, that, at the time of his conquest of the Gauls, in the course of one winter, he constructed six hundred vessels of the wood which then grew in the environs of Paris; and that, in the following spring, he embarked his army, horse and foot, provisions and baggage, in these vessels, descended the Seine, reached Dieppe, and thence crossed over to England, of which, he says, he made a conquest.

About forty years ago, the scheme engaged much attention. In 1759, the Academy of Sciences, Belles-Lettres, and Arts of Rouen, proposed the following as a prize-question: "Was not the Seine formerly navigable for vessels of greater burden than those which are now employed on it; and are there not means to restore to it, or to procure it, that advantage?" In 1760, the prize was adjourned; the memoirs presented not being to the satisfaction of the Academy. In 1761, the new candidates having no better success, the subject was changed.

However, notwithstanding this discouragement, we find that, on the 1st of August, 1766, Captain Berthelot actually reached the Pont Royal in a vessel of one hundred and sixty tons burden. When, on the 22d of the same month, he departed thence, loaded with merchandise, the depth of the water in the Seine was twenty-five feet, and it was nearly the same when he ascended the river. This vessel was seven days on her passage from Rouen to Paris: but a year or two ago, four days only were employed in performing the same voyage by another vessel, named the Saumon.

Engineers have ever judged the scheme practicable, and the estimate of the necessary works, signed by several skilful surveyors, was submitted to the ministry of that day. The amount was forty-six millions of livres (circa £1,916,600 sterling).

But what can compensate for the absence of the tide? This is an advantage, which, in a commercial point of view, must ever insure to London a decided superiority over Paris. Were the Seine to-morrow rendered navigable for vessels of large burden, they must, for a considerable distance, be tracked against the stream, or wait till a succession of favourable winds had enabled them to stem it through its various windings; whereas nothing can be more favourable to navigation than the position of London. It has every advantage of a sea-port without its dangers. Had it been placed lower down, that is, nearer to the mouth of the Thames, it would have been more exposed to the insults of a foreign enemy, and also to the insalubrious exhalations of the swampy marshes. Had it been situated higher up the river, it would have been inaccessible to ships of large burden.

Thus, by no effort of human invention or industry can Paris rival London in commerce, even on the supposition that France could produce as many men possessed of the capital and spirit of enterprise, for which our British merchants are at present unrivalled.

Yet, may not this pre-eminence in commercial prosperity lead to our destruction, as the gigantic conquests of France may also pave the way to her ruin? Alas! the experience of ages proves this melancholy truth, which has also been repeated by Raynal: "Commerce," says that celebrated writer, "in the end finds its ruin in the riches which it accumulates, as every powerful state lays the foundation of its own destruction in extending its conquests."