t library_] Monsieur Riaux, Archiviste de la Chambre
de Commerce. This amiable man unites a love of literature with that of
architectural antiquities. The library of M. Le Prevost is however as
copious as that of Mons. R.

LETTER VII.

THE QUAYS. BRIDGE OF BOATS. RUE DU BAC. RUE DE ROBEC. EAUX DE ROBEC ET
D'AUBETTE. MONT STE. CATHARINE. HOSPICES--GENERAL ET D'HUMANITE.

Still tarrying within this old fashioned place? I have indeed yet much to
impart before I quit it, and which I have no scruple in avowing will be
well deserving of your attention.

Just letting you know, in few words, that I have visited the famous
chemical laboratory of M. Vitalis, (_Rue Beauvoisine_) and the yet more
wonderful spectacle exhibited in M. Lemere's machine for sawing wood of all
descriptions, into small or large planks, by means of water works--I must
take you along THE QUAYS for a few minutes. These quays are flanked by an
architectural front, which, were it finished agreeably to the original
plan, would present us with one of the noblest structures in Europe. This
stone front was begun in the reign of Louis XV. but many and prosperous
must be the years of art, of commerce, and of peace, before money
sufficient can be raised for the successful completion of the pile. The
quays are long, broad, and full of bustle of every description; while in
some of the contiguous squares, ponderous bales of goods, shawls, cloth,
and linen, are spread open to catch the observing eye. In the midst of this
varied and animated scene, walks a well-known character, in his large
cocked hat, and with his tin machine upon his back, filled with lemonade or
coffee, surmounted by a bell--which "ever and anon" is sounded for the sake
of attracting customers. He is here copied to the life.

[Illustration]

As you pass along this animated scene, by the side of the rapid Seine, and
its _Bridge of Boats_, you cannot help glancing now and then down the
narrow old-fashioned streets, which run at right angles with the
quays--with the innumerable small tile-fashioned pieces of wood, like
scales, upon the roofs--which seem as if they would be demolished by every
blast. The narrowness and gloom of these streets, together with the bold
and overwhelming projections of the upper stories and roofs, afford a
striking contrast to the animated scene upon the quays:--where the sun
shines with full freedom, as it were; and where the glittering streamers,
at i