angle of the two streets, of aux Fers and St. Denis, presenting only two facades to the beholder.  It was restored and beautified in 1708; and in 1788 it changed both its form and its position by being transported to the present spot—­ the Marche des Innocens—­the market for vegetables.  Two other similar sides were then added, making it a square:  but the original performances of Goujon, which are considered almost as his master-piece, attract infinitely more admiration than the more recent ones of Pajou.  Goujon’s figures are doubtless very delicately and successfully executed.  The water bubbles up in the centre of the square, beneath the arch, in small sheets, or masses; and its first and second subsequent falls, also in sheets, have a very beautiful effect.  They are like pieces of thin, transparent ice, tumbling upon each other; but the lead, of which the lower half of the fountain is composed—­as the reservoir of the water—­might have been advantageously exchanged for marble.  The lion at each corner of the pedestal, squirting water into a sarcophagus-shaped reservoir, has a very absurd appearance.  Upon the whole, this fountain is well deserving of particular attention.  The inscription upon it is FONTIVM NYMPHIS; but perhaps, critically speaking, it is now in too exposed a situation for the character of it’s ornaments.  A retired, rural, umbrageous recess, beneath larch and pine—­ whose boughs

  Wave high and murmur in the hollow wind—­

seems to be the kind of position fitted for the reception of a fountain of this character.

The FONTAINE DE GRENELLE is almost entirely architectural; and gives an idea of a public office, rather than of a conduit.  You look above—­to the right and the left—­but no water appears.  At last, almost by accident, you look down, quite at its base, and observe two insignificant streams trickling from the head of an animal.  The central figure in front is a representation of the city of Paris:  the recumbent figures, on each side, represent, the one the Seine, the other the Marne.  Above, there are four figures which represent the four Seasons.  This fountain, the work of Bouchardon, was erected in 1739 upon the site of what formed a part of an old 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