dignity even to St. Peter's, or again gushing in the form of cascades from some great work of architect or sculptor, or still again dripping refreshingly over the brim of a beautiful basin that was old when the Christian era began. The Forum is in ruins, basilicas and baths have been transformed into churches, palaces have been turned into museums; but the fountains of Rome are eternal.
If all the fountains of Washington, instead of being left lifeless and inert as they are during a greater portion of the time, should be set playing at their full capacity, they would not use the amount of water that bursts from the world-famous fountain of Trevi or splashes on the stones of the piazza of St. Peter's. At the Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte,
near Paris, the great landscape architect Lenôtre built cascades, canals, and fountains, using one twelfth of the daily water supply of the District of Columbia. The fountains at Versailles are one of the most attractive spectacles enjoyed by the people of France.
The original plans of Washington show the high appreciation L'Enfant had for all forms of water decoration; and when the heats of a Washington summer are taken into consideration, further argument is unnecessary to prove that the first and greatest step in the matter of beautifying the District of Columbia is such an increase in the water supply as will make possible the copious and even lavish use of water in fountains.
