Of other buildings, devoted to civil purposes, the CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES, the HOTEL DES INVALIDES, with its gilded dome (a little too profusely adorned,) the INSTITUTE, and more particularly the MINT, are the chief ornaments on the south side of the Seine.  In these I am not disposed to pick the least hole, by fastidious or hypercritical observations.  Only I wish that they would contrive to let the lions, in front of the facade of the Institute, (sometimes called the College Mazarin or des Quatre Nations—­upon the whole, a magnificent pile) discharge a good large mouthful of water—­ instead of the drivelling stream which is for ever trickling from their closed jaws.  Nothing can be more ridiculous than the appearance of these meagre and unappropriate objects:  the more to be condemned, because the French in general assume great credit for the management of their fountains.  Of the four great buildings just noticed, that of the Mint, or rather its facade, pleases me most.  It is a beautiful elevation, in pure good taste; but the stone is unfortunately of a coarse grain and of a dingy colour.  Of the BRIDGES thrown across the Seine, connecting all the fine objects on either side, it must be allowed that they are generally in good taste:  light, yet firm; but those, in iron, of Louis XVI. and des Arts, are perhaps to be preferred.  The Pont Neuf, where the ancient part of Paris begins, is a large, long, clumsy piece of stone work:  communicating with the island upon which Notre Dame is built.  But if you look eastward, towards old Paris, from the top of this bridge—­or if you look in the same direction, a little towards the western side, or upon the quays,—­you contemplate, in my humble opinion, one of the grandest views of street scenery that can be imagined!  The houses are very lofty—­occasionally of six or even eight stories—­the material with which they are built is a fine cream-coloured stone:  the two branches of the river, and the back ground afforded by Notre Dame, and a few other subordinate public buildings, altogether produce an effect—­especially as you turn your back upon the sun, sinking low behind the Barriere de Neuilly—­which would equally warm the hearts and exercise the pencils of the TURNERS and CALCOTS of our own shores.  Indeed, I learn that the former distinguished artist has actually made a drawing of this picture.  But let me add, that my own unqualified admiration had preceded the knowledge of this latter fact.  Among other buildings, I must put in a word of praise in behalf of the HALLE-AUX-BLE’S—­built after the model of the Pantheon at Rome.  It is one hundred and twenty French feet in diameter; has twenty-five covered archways, or arcades, of ten feet in width; of which six are open, as passages of ingress and egress—­corresponding with the like number of opposite streets.  The present cupola (preceded by one almost as large as that of the Pantheon at Rome) is built of iron and brass—­of a curious, light, and yet sufficiently substantial construction—­and is unassailable by fire.  I never passed through this building without seeing it well stocked with provender; while its area was filled with farmers, who, like our own, assemble to make the best bargain.  Yet let me observe that, owing to the height of the neighbouring houses, this building loses almost the whole of its appropriate effect.