How imposing is the long and stately façade that looks across the gardens to Bushey! So solid and yet so rich in its decoration and stone dressings. This is one of Wren’s most successful works; so varied and original in its treatment. With all our fantastical modern freaks, no one seems to have caught or adapted this style, the florid circular windows particularly. How curious is it to look at the old tennis court, where the King’s nobles and gentlemen played the game--a solemn, mournful place of recreation now. The courtyard within and fine colonnade--how fine and dignified! The florid embroidery in stone-work seems exactly to suit the cheerful, sunshiny brick. A walk in these wide _loggias_ on a wet day would be a welcome diversion. Within are the superb suites of rooms allotted to favoured _protégées_ by the grace of the Crown: but few could form an idea of the great accommodation. On one “flat” alone, enjoyed by a single family, there are seventeen or eighteen rooms. The grand staircases at the side that lead up to these suites, and ascend to the roof almost, are pointed out as instances of Wren’s ingenuity. He wished to make the ascent as easy as possible. They were placed therefore in long low slopes, each containing a vast number of steps. From this court we pass into the portion built by Wolsey, which is the most charming and interesting of the whole. Here, too, we must admire the grace of the architecture, the beautiful proportions of the gate-towers, and the tone of the old brick, softened into a ripe creamy pink. Very little has been altered or renewed, everything is as Henry and Wolsey saw it--the extraordinary florid old clock, and the effective and vigorous terra-cotta heads of Roman Emperors fitted into the brickwork with forcible effect. They were a present from the Pope of the time. The great banqueting hall is an imposing work, with its noble open roof and vast proportions. But these things are really not to be appreciated on a visit--when we stare and have to pass to some other part of the “show,” where we stare again. In visiting old towns and old cathedrals we should reside, and let the spirit of the place grow, or steal gradually upon us. When a feeling of companionship arises we get familiar, and find ourselves looking on it again and again. But with short and hurried glances little is really gathered--we have seen, but not known. It will be noted that what we have been considering is not the hackneyed or popular view, which consists in following the lazy herd as it promenades wearily from room to room--the king and queen’s chambers--or the waste of innumerable pictures, including the Hampton Court beauties and the Field of the Cloth of Gold and other notable “curios.” There is of course entertainment in this, but the real attraction is in the place itself, where we might wander for days.