ld convent. A more simple, and a more striking fountain, to my taste, is
that of the ECOLE DE CHIRURGIE; in which a comparatively large column of
water rushes down precipitously between two Doric pillars--which form the
central ones of four--in an elegant facade.

Yet more simple, more graceful, and more capacious, is the fountain of the
BOULEVARD BONDY--which I first saw sparkling beneath the lustre of a full
moon. This is, in every sense of the word, a fountain. A constant but
gentle undulation of water, from three aqueous terraces, surmounted by
three basins, gradually diminishing in size, strike you with peculiar
gratification--view it from whatever quarter you will: but seen in the
neighbourhood of _trees_, the effect, in weather like this, is absolutely
heart-refreshing. The only objectionable part of this elegant structure, on
the score of art, are the lions, and their positions. In the first place,
it is difficult to comprehend why the mouth of a _lion_ is introduced as a
channel for the transmission of water; and, in the second place, these
lions should have occupied the basement portion of the structure. This
beautiful fountain, of which the water is supplied by the _Canal d'Ourcq_,
was finished only about seven or eight years ago. Nor let the FOUNTAIN OF
TRIUMPH or VICTORY, in the _Place du Chatelet_, be forgotten. It is a
column, surmounted by a gilt statue of Victory, with four figures towards
its pedestal. The four jets-d'eau, from its base,--which are sufficiently
insignificant--empty themselves into a circular basin; but the shaft of the
column, to my eye, is not free from affectation. The names of some of
Bonaparte's principal victories are inscribed upon that part of the column
which faces the Pont au Change. There is a classical air of elegance about
this fountain, which is fifty feet in height.

But where is the ELEPHANT Fountain?--methinks I hear you exclaim. It is yet
little more than in embryo: that is to say, the plaster-cast of it only is
visible--with the model, on a smaller scale, completed in all its parts, by
the side of it. It is really a stupendous affair.[15] On entering the
temporary shed erected for its construction, on the site of the Bastille, I
was almost breathless with astonishment for a moment. Imagine an enormous
figure of the unwieldy elephant, _full fifty feet high!_ You see it, in the
front, foreshortened--as you enter; and as the head is the bulkiest portion
of the animal, you