As we have said，the Palace quarter，of which we have endeavoured to convey some idea to the reader，though merely pointing out the chief features，filled the angle formed by the Seine and the wall of Charles V on the east.The centre of the Town was occupied by a congeries of dwelling-houses.For it was here that the three bridges of the City on the right bank discharged their streams of passengers；and bridges lead to the building of houses before palaces.This collection of middle-class dwellings，closely packed together like the cells of a honeycomb，was，however，by no means devoid of beauty.The sea of roofs of a great city has much of the grandeur of the ocean about it.To begin with，the streets in their crossings and windings cut up the mass into a hundred charming figures，streaming out from the Halles like the rays of a star.The streets of Saint-Denis and Saint-Martin，with their innumerable ramifications，went up side by side like two great trees intertwining their branches；while such streets as the Rue de la Platerie，Rue de la Verrerie，Rue de la Tixeranderie，etc.，wound in tortuous lines through the whole.Some handsome edifices，too，thrust up their heads through the petrified waves of this sea of gables.For instance，at the head of the Pont-aux-Changeurs，behind which you could see the Seine foaming under the mill-wheels of the Pont-aux-Meuniers，there was the Chatelet，no longer a Roman keep，as under Julian the Apostate，but a feudal tower of the thirteenth century，and built of stone so hard that three hours'work with the pick did not remove more than the size of a man's fist.Then there was the square steeple of Saint-Jacques-de-la-Boucherie，with its richly sculptured corners，most worthy of admiration even then，though it was not completed in the fifteenth century；it lacked in particular the four monsters which，still perched on the four corners of its roof，look like sphinxes offering to modern Paris the enigma of the old to unriddle.Rault，the sculptor，did not put them up till 1526，and received twenty francs for his trouble.There was the Maison-aux-Piliers，facing the Place de Grève，of which we have already given the reader some idea；there was Saint-Gervais，since spoilt by a doorway'in good taste'；Saint-Mèry，of which the primitive pointed arches were scarcely more than circular；Saint-Jean，whose magnificent spire was proverbial and twenty other edifices which disdained not to hide their wonders in that chaos of deep，dark，narrow streets.Add to these the carved stone crosses，more numerous at the crossways than even the gibbets；the cemetery of the Innocents，of whose enclosing wall you caught a glimpse in the distance；the pillory of the Halles，just visible between two chimneys of the Rue de la Cossonnerie；the gibbet of the Croix du Trahoir at the corner of the ever-busy thoroughfare；the round stalls of the Corn Market；fragments of the old wall of Philip Augustus，distinguishable here and there，buried among the houses；mouldering，ivyclad towers，ruined gateways，bits of crumbling walls；the quay with its myriad booths and gory skinning yards；the Seine，swarming with boats from the Port au Foin or hay wharf to the For-1'Evêque，and you will be able to form some adequate idea of what the great irregular quadrangle of the Town looked like in 1482.
Besides these two quarters—the one of palaces，the other of houses—the Town contributed a third element to the view：that of a long belt of abbeys which bordered almost its entire circumference from east to west；and，lying just inside the fortified wall which encircled Paris，furnished a second internal rampart of cloisters and chapels.Thus，immediately adjoining the park of the Tournelles，between the Rue Saint-Antoine and the old Rue du Temple，stood the old convent of Sainte-Catherine，with its immense grounds，bounded only by the city wall.Between the old and the new Rue du Temple was the Temple itself，a grim of lofty towers，standing haughty and alone，surrounded by a vast，embattled wall.Between the Rue Neuve du Temple and the Rue Saint-Martin，in the midst of gardens，stood the Abbey of Saint-Martin a superb fortified church，whose girdle of towers and crown of steeples were second only to Saint-Germain-des-Près in strength and splendour.
Between the two streets of Saint-Martin and Saint-Denis stretched the convent enclosure of the Trinitè，and between the Rue Saint-Denis and the Rue Montorgueil that of Filles-Dieu.Close by，one caught a glimpse of the mouldering roofs and broken wall of the Cour des Miracles，the only profane link in that pious chain.
ly，the fourth area，standing out distinctly in the conglomeration of roofs on the right bank，and occupying the eastern angle formed by the city wall and the river wall，was a fresh knot of palaces and mansions clustered round the foot of the Louvre.The old Louvre of Philip Augustus，that stupendous pile whose enormous middle tower mustered round it twenty-three major towers，irrespective of the smaller ones，appeared from the distance as if encased within the Gothic roof-lines of the Htel d'Ale n and the Petit-Bourbon.This hydra of towers，this guardian monster of Paris，with its twenty-four heads ever erect，the tremendous ridge of its roof sheathed in lead or scales of slate and glistening in metallic lustre，furnished an unexpected close to the western configuration of the Town.