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 may imagine something of the probable resulting effect.  Certainly it is most imposing.  The visitor, who wishes to make himself acquainted with the older, and more original, national character of the French—­whether as respects manners, dresses, domestic occupations, and public places of resort—­will take up his residence in the Rue du Bac, or at the Hotel des Bourbons; within twenty minutes walk of the more curious objects which are to be found in the Quartiers Saint Andre des Arcs, du Luxembourg, and Saint Germain des Pres.  Ere he commence his morning perambulations, he will look well at his map, and to what is described, in the route which he is to take, in the works of Landon and of Legrand, or of other equally accurate topographers.  Two things he ought invariably to bear in mind:  the first, not to undertake too much, for the sake of saying how many things he has seen:—­and the second, to make himself thoroughly master of what he does see.  All this is very easily accomplished:  and a fare of thirty sous will take you, at starting, to almost any part of Paris, however remote:  from whence you may shape your course homewards at leisure, and with little fatigue.  Such a visitor