To return to the Schönbrunn 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 it, 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 vistas, lawns, and walks--interspersed with grottoes 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. It was the other Sunday evening when I visited the Prater, and when--as the weather happened to be very fine--it was considered to be full, but the absence of the court, of the noblesse, necessarily gave a less joyous and splendid aspect to the carriages and their attendant liveries. In your way to this famous place of Sabbath evening promenade, you pass a celebrated coffee-house, in the suburbs, called the Leopoldstadt, which goes by the name of the Greek coffee-house--on account of its being almost entirely frequented by Greeks--so numerous at Vienna. Do not pass it, if you should ever come hither, without entering it--at least once. You would fancy yourself to be in Greece, so thoroughly characteristic are the countenances, dresses, and language of everyone within. But yonder commences the procession of horse and foot; of cabriolets, family coaches, German wagons, cars, phaetons and landaulets, all moving in a measured manner, within their prescribed ranks, toward the Prater. We must accompany them without loss of time. You now reach the Prater. It is an extensive flat, surrounded by branches of the Danube, and planted on each side with double rows of horse-chestnut trees. The drive, in one straight line, is probably a league in length. It is divided by two roads, in one of which the company move onward, and in the other they return. Consequently, if you happen to find a hillock only a few feet high, you may, from thence, obtain a pretty good view of the interminable procession of the carriages before mentioned: one current of them, as it were, moving forward, and another rolling backward.