About three English miles from the Great Belvedere—­or rather about the same number of miles from Vienna, to the right, as you approach the Capital—­is the famous palace of SCHOeNBRUNN.  This is a sort of summer-residence of the Emperor; and it is here that his daughter, the ex-Empress of France, and the young Bonaparte usually reside.  The latter never goes into Italy, when his mother, as Duchess of Parma, pays her annual visit to her principality.  At this moment her Son is at Baden, with the court.  It was in the Schoenbrunn palace that his father, on the conquest of Vienna, used to take up his abode; rarely, venturing into the city.  He was surely safe enough here; as every chamber and every court yard was filled by the elite of his guard—­whether as officers or soldiers.  It is a most magnificent pile of building:  a truly imperial residence—­but neither the furniture nor the objects of art, whether connected with sculpture or painting, are deserving of any thing in the shape of a catalogue raisonne.  I saw the chamber where young Bonaparte frequently passes the day; and brandished his flag staff, and beat upon his drum.  He is a soldier (as they tell me) every inch of him; and rides out, through the streets of Vienna, in a carriage of state drawn by four or six horses, receiving the homages of the passing multitude.

To return to the SCHOeNBRUNN PALACE.  I have already told you that it is vast, and capable of accommodating the largest retinue of courtiers.  It is of the Gardens belonging to them, that I would now only wish to say a word.  These gardens are really worthy of the residence to which they are attached.  For what is called ornamental, formal, gardening—­enriched by shrubs of rarity, and trees of magnificence—­enlivened by fountains—­adorned by sculpture—­and diversified by vistos, lawns, and walks—­interspersed with grottos and artificial ruins—­you can conceive nothing upon a grander scale than these:  while a menagerie in one place (where I saw a large but miserably wasted elephant)—­a flower garden in another—­a labyrinth in a third, and a solitude in a fourth place—­each, in its turn; equally beguiles the hour and the walk.  They are the most spacious gardens I ever witnessed.

The preceding is all I can tell you, from actual observation, about the

PALACES at Vienna.  Those of the Noblesse, with the exception of that of Duke Albert, I have not visited; as I learn that the families are from home—­and that the furniture is not arranged in the order in which one could wish it to be for the purpose of inspection or admiration.  But I must not omit saying a word or two about the TREASURY—­where the Court Jewels and Regalia are kept and where curious clocks and watches, of early Nuremburg manufacture, will not fail to strike and astonish the antiquary.  But there are other objects, of a yet more powerful attraction:  particularly a series of crowns studded with gems and precious stones, from the time