Chronograms are as common on fountains as they are on other monuments. The earliest I have happened to come across is an Arabic one on a fountain near the Studion, which points the reader’s attention as follows—“The date fell: We gave thee the fountain of Paradise.” The latter phrase is from the Koran. Its numerical value is 970, or 1563 of our era, which is twenty years later than the chronogram on the tomb of the Prince. The ideal chronogram should contain the name of the builder of the fountain and that of the writer of the verse—though I must confess I never found one that attained that height of ingenuity. Most of them mention the founder’s name alone, as “Sultan Mourad’s fountain is a gift” (994/1586), or “O God, grant Paradise to Moustafa Pasha!” (1095/1684). But the exigencies of arithmetic may relegate the names to the earlier part of the inscription—as on one of two neighbouring fountains in the quarter of Ak Bîyîk (_anglice_, White Whisker): “When the mother of Ali Pasha, Vizier in the reign of Sultan Mahmoud, quenched the thirst of the people with the clear and pure water of her charity, Riza of Beshiktash, the _Nakshibendi_”—an order of dervishes—“uttered the following epigraph: Come and drink water of eternal life from this joyful fountain.” The value of the last phrase is 1148, or 1735. Even in so general a sentiment, however, it is not always easy to get the required figure. Various ingenious devices are resorted to, of which a handsome Renaissance fountain in Kassîm Pasha is an excellent example: “The famous Vizier, the victorious warrior Hassan Pasha, made this fountain as a trophy for Mohammedans. His aims were always philanthropic and he provided this fountain with water like Zemzem. This fountain is so well situated and built in so pleasant a place that one would take it as the site where flows the water of eternal life. Those who look upon it drive away all sorrow from their hearts.” The numerical value of the last sentence is 2080, a date even farther from the Mohammedan calendar than from ours. But the value of the single word “sorrow” is 1040. Drive it away, or in other words subtract 1040 from 2080, and you get 1040 again, which is evidently the date of the construction (1631). The light values of this inscription are as enigmatic as its numerical values, so that I have never been able to photograph it properly. It also states that the water rights are free, meaning that no one _saka_ may sell the water. The builder of this interesting fountain was in his day a saddler, a cook, and a sergeant, which did not prevent him from eventually becoming high admiral of the fleet, inflicting a memorable defeat upon the Russians in the Black Sea, and marrying the sister of Sultan Mourad IV. [Illustration: The two fountains of Ak Bîyîk]