liness. I have seen nothing in life, imagined nothing from the descriptions of poets, that is any way comparable to it. It is matchless.

In one of the last rooms the servitor unlocked two handsome cases, and showed me, with a great deal of circumstance, two heads by Denner. They were an old man and his wife-two hale, temperate, good old country gossips-but so curiously finished! Every pore was painted. You counted the stiff stumps of the good man's beard as you might those of a living person, till you were tired. Every wrinkle looked as if a month had been spent in elaborating it. The man said they were extremely valuable, and I certainly never saw anything more curiously and perhaps uselessly wrought.

Near them was a capital picture of a drunken fellow, sitting by himself and laughing heartily at his own performance on the pipe. It was irresistible, and I joined in the laugh till the long suite of halls rung again.

Landscapes by Van Delen-such as I have seen engravings of in America, and sighed over as unreal-the skies, the temples, the water, the soft mountains, the distant ruins, seemed so like the beauty of a dream. Here, they recall to me even lovelier scenes in Italy-atmospheres richer than the painter's pallet can imitate, and ruins and temples whose ivy-grown and melancholy grandeur are but feebly copied at the best.

Come, Karl! I am bewildered with these pictures. You have twenty such galleries in Vienna, you say! I have seen enough for to-day, however, and we will save the Belvidere till to-morrow. Here! pay the servitor, and the footman, and the porter, and let us get into the open air. How common look your Viennese after the celestial images we have left behind!

And, truly, this is the curse of refinement. The faces we should have loved else, look dull! The forms that were graceful before, move somehow heavily. I have entered a gallery ere now, thinking well of a face that accompanied me, and I have learned indifference to it, by sheer comparison, before coming

away.

We return through the Kohlmarket, one of the most fashionable streets of Vienna. It is like a fancy ball. Hungarians, Poles, Croats, Wallachians, Jews, Moldavians, Greeks, Turks, all dressed in their national and striking costumes, promenade up and down, smoking all, and none exciting the slightest observation. Every third window is a pipe-shop, and they show, by their splendor and variety, the expensiveness of the passion. Some of them are marked "two hundred dollars." The streets reek with tobacco smoke. You never catch a breath of untainted air within the Glacis. You hote, your café, your coach, your friend, are all redolent of the same disgusting odor.

LETTER XV.

The Palace of Schoenbrunn-Hietzing, the Summer Retreat of the Wealthy VienneseCountry-House of the American Consul-Specimen of Pure Domestic Happiness in a German Family-Splendid Village Ball-Substantial Fare for the Ladies-Curious Fashion of Cushioning the Windows-German Grief-The Upper Belvidere PalaceEndless Quantity of Pictures.

DROVE to Schoenbrunn. It is a princely palace, some three miles from the city, occupied at present by the emperor and his court. Napoleon resided here during his visit to Vienna, and here his son died—the two circumstances which alone make it worth much trouble to see. The afternoon was too cold to hope to meet the emperor in the grounds, and being quite satisfied with drapery and modern paintings, I contented myself with having driven through the court, and kept on to Hietzing.

This is a small village of country-seats within an hour's drive. of the city another Jamaica-Plains, or Dorchester in the neighborhood of Boston. It is the summer retreat of most of the rank and fashion of Vienna. The American consul has here a charming country-house, buried in trees, where the few of our countrymen who travel to Austria find the most hospitable of welcomes. A bachelor friend of mine from New York is domesticated in the village with a German family. I was struck

The husband and wife,

with the Americanism of their manners. a female relative and an intimate friend of the family, were sitting in the garden, engaged in grave, quiet, sensible conversation. They had passed the afternoon together. Their manners were affectionate to each other, but serious and respectful. When I entered, they received me with kindness, and the conversation was politely changed to French, which they all spoke fluently. Topics were started, in which it was supposed I would be interested, and altogether the scene was one of the simplest and purest domestic happiness. This seems to you, I dare say, like the description of a very common thing, but I have not seen such a one before since I left my country. It is the first family I have found in two years' travel who lived in, and seemed sufficient for, themselves. It came over me with a kind of feeling of refreshment.

In the evening there was a ball at a public room in the village. It was built in the rear of a café, to which we paid about thirty cents for entrance. I was not prepared for the splendor with which it was got up. The hall was very large and of beautiful proportions, built like the interior of a temple, with columus on the four sides. A partition of glass divided it from a supperroom equally large, in which were set out perhaps fifty tables, furnished with a carte, from which each person ordered his supper when he wished it, after the fashion of a restaurant. The best band in Vienna filled the orchestra, led by the celebrated Strauss, who has been honored for his skill with presents from half the monarchs of Europe.

The ladies entered, dressed in perfect taste, a la Parisienne, but the gentlemen (hear it, Basil Hall and Mrs. Trollope!) came in frock coats and boots, and danced with their hats on!

It was a public ball, and there was, of course, a great mixture of society; but I was assured that it was attended constantly by the most respectable people of the village, and was as respectable as anything of the kind in the middle classes. There were, certainly, many ladies in the company, of elegant manners and appearance, and among the gentlemen I recognised two attachi's to the French embassy, whom I had known in Paris, and several Austrian gentlemen of rank were pointed out to me among the dancers. The galopade and the waltz were the only dances, and dirty boots and hats to the contrary notwithstanding, it was the best waltzing I ever saw. They danced with a soul.

They danced and eat

It was quite the more The most delicate ladies

The best part of it was the supper. danced and eat, the evening through. important entertainment of the two. present returned three and four times to the supper, ordering fried chicken, salads, cold meats, and beer, again and again, as if every waltz created a fresh appetite. The bill was called for, the ladies assisted in making the change, the tankard was drained, and off they strolled to the ball-room to engage with renewed spirit in the dance. And these, positively, were ladies who, in dress, manners, and modest demeanor, might pass uncriticised in any society in the world! Their husbands and brothers attended them, and no freedom was attempted, and I am sure it would not have been permitted even to speak to a lady without a formal introduction.

We left most of the company supping at a late hour, and I drove into the city, amused with the ball, and reconciled to any or all of the manners which travellers in America find so peculiarly entertaining.