iddle of the market, and which was the work of
the celebrated sculptor, Jean Goujon, and his colleague, the
architect, Pierre Lescot. The former is said to have been seated at
it, giving some last touches to one of the tall and graceful nymphs
that adorn its high arched sides, on the day of the Massacre of St
Bartholomew, when he was killed by a random shot from a Catholic
zealot. The simple inscription which it still bears, FONTIUM NYMPHIS,
is in better taste than that of any other among the numerous fountains
of the French capital. The church itself (of which not the slightest
vestige now remains) was not a good specimen of mediaeval architecture,
although it was large and richly endowed. It was founded by Philip
Augustus, when he ordered the Jews to be expelled from his dominions,
and seized on their estates--one of the most nefarious actions
committed by a monarch of France. The absurd accusation, that the Jews
used periodically to crucify and torture Christian children, was one
of the most plausible pretexts employed by the rapacious king on this
occasion; and, as a kind of testimonial that such had been his excuse,
he founded this church; dedicated it to the Holy Innocents; and
transferred hither the remains of a boy, named Richard, said to have
been sacrificed at Pontoise by some unfortunate Jews, who expiated the
pretended crime by the most horrible torments. St Richard's remains,
(for he was canonized,) worked numerous miracles in the Church of the
Innocents, or rather in the churchyard, where a tomb was erected over
them; and so great was their reputation, that tradition says, the
English, on evacuating Paris in the 15th century, carried off with
them all but the little saint's head. Certain it is, that nothing but
the head remained amongst the relics of this parish; and equally
certain is it, that no Christian innocents have been sacrificed by
those "circumcised dogs" either before or since, whether in France or
England, or any other part of the world. It remained for the dishonest
credulity of the present century, to witness the disgraceful spectacle
of a French consul at Damascus, assisting at the torturing of some
Jewish merchants under a similar accusation, and assuring his
government of his belief in the confessions extorted by these inhuman
means; and of many a party journal in Paris accrediting and re-echoing
the tale. Had not British humanity intervened in aid of British
policy, France had made this vi