There is nothing gorgeous now. We live
a very naked life. This was the only reflection I remember making, as we
passed from century to century, through the succession of classic,
Oriental, and mediaeval courts, adown the lapse of time,--seeing all
these ages in as brief a space as the Wandering Jew might glance along
them in his memory. I suppose a Pompeian house with its courts and
interior apartments was as faithfully shown as it was possible to do it.
I doubt whether I ever should feel at home in such a house.
In the pool of a fountain, of which there are several beautiful ones
within the palace, besides larger ones in the garden before it, we saw
tropical plants growing,--large water-lilies of various colors, some
white, like our Concord pond-lily, only larger, and more numerously
leafed. There were great circular green leaves, lying flat on the water,
with a circumference equal to that of a centre-table. Tropical trees,
too, varieties of palm and others, grew in immense pots or tubs, but
seemed not to enjoy themselves much. The atmosphere must, after all, be
far too cool to bring out their native luxuriance; and this difficulty
can never be got over at a less expense than that of absolutely stewing
the visitors and attendants. Otherwise, it would be very practicable to
have all the vegetable world, at least, within these precincts.
The palace is very large, and our time was short, it being desirable to
get home early; so, after a stay of little more than two hours, we took
the rail back again, and reached Hanover Square at about six.
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