of Schoenbrunn; or rather, in the suite of apartments, which were formerly servant’s offices,—­but which are now fitted up in a very tasteful and gay manner, for the reception of Sunday visitors:  it being one of the principal fashionable places of resort on the Sabbath.  We had a half boiled and half stewed fowl, beefsteak, and fritters, for dinner.  The, beef was perfectly uneatable, as being entirely gone—­but the other dishes were good and well served.  The dessert made amends for all previous grievances.  It consisted of peaches and grapes—­just gathered from the imperial garden:  the Emperor allowing his old servants (who are the owners of the taverns, and who gain a livelihood from Sunday visitors) to partake of this privilege.  The choicest table at Paris or at London could not boast of finer specimens of the fruit in question.  I may here add, that the slaughter-houses are all in the suburbs—­or, at any rate, without the ramparts.  This is a good regulation; but it is horribly disgusting, at times, to observe carts going along, with the dead bodies of animals, hanging down the sides, with their heads cut off.

Of all cities in Europe, Vienna is probably the most distinguished for the excellence of its CARRIAGES of every description—­and especially for its Hackney Coaches. I grant you, that there is nothing here comparable with our London carriages, made on the nicest principles of art:  whether for springs, shape, interior accommodations, or luxury; but I am certain that, for almost every species of carriage to be obtained at London, you may purchase them here at half the price.  Satin linings of yellow, pink, and blue, are very prevalent ... even in their hackney coaches.  These latter, are, in truth, most admirable, and of all shapes:  landau, barouche, phaeton, chariot, or roomy family coach.  Glass of every description, at Vienna—­from the lustre that illuminates the Imperial Palace to that which is used in the theatre—­is excellent; so that you are sure to have plate glass in your fiacre.  The coachmen drive swiftly, and delight in rectangular turns.  They often come thundering down upon you unawares, and as the streets are generally very narrow, it is difficult to secure a retreat in good time.  At the corners of the streets are large stone posts, to protect the houses from the otherwise constant attrition from the wheels.  The streets are paved with large stones, and the noise of the wheels, arising from the rapidity of their motion,—­re-echoed by the height of the houses, is no trifling trial to nervous strangers.

Of the chief objects of architecture which decorate street scenery, there are none, to my old-fashioned eyes, more attractive and more thoroughly beautiful and interesting—­from a thousand associations of ideas—­than PLACES OF WORSHIP—­and of course, among these, none stands so eminently conspicuous as the Mother-Church, or the CATHEDRAL, which, in this place, is dedicated to St. Stephen.  The