er of the
inhabitants immersed in scandalous debauch.

With these recollections of the past, let us enter the palace of the
present sovereign. With habits of extreme simplicity, and a personal
expenditure rigidly economical, the residence of the King of Bavaria,
when completed, will be the most extensive and the most sumptuous palace
in the world. But, then, it is not merely the palace of a king: it is
a temple dedicated to the genius of a nation. The apartments of state,
painted in fresco on the grandest scale, bold in design, splendid in
colour, breathe the very Teutonic soul. The subjects are taken from the
'Nibelungenlied,' the Gothic epic, and commemorate all the achievements
of the heroic Siegfried, and all the adventures of the beautiful
Chrimhilde. The heart of a German beats as he gazes on the forms and
scenes of the Teutonic Iliad; as he beholds Haghen the fierce, and
Dankwart the swift; Volker, the minstrel knight, and the beautiful and
haughty Brunhilda. But in point of harmonious dimension and august
beauty, no chamber is perhaps more imposing than the Kaiser Saal, or
Hall of the Sovereigns. It is, I should think, considerably above one
hundred feet in length, broad and lofty in exact proportion. Its
roof is supported on either side by columns of white marble; the
inter-columniations are filled by colossal statues, of gilded brass, of
the electors and kings of the country. Seated on his throne, at the end
of this imperial chamber, Louis of Bavaria is surrounded by the solemn
majesty of his ancestors. These statues are by Schwanthaler, a sculptor
who to the severe and classic taste and profound sentiment of his
master, Thorwaldsen, unites an exuberance of invention which has filled
Munich with the greatest works since Phidias. Cornelius, Julius Schnorr,
and Hess are the principal painters who have covered the galleries,
churches, and palaces of Munich with admirable frescoes. The celebrated
Klenze is known throughout Europe as the first of living architects, and
the favourite of his sovereign when that sovereign did not wear a crown;
but we must not forget the name of Gartner, the architect who has
revived the Byzantine style of building with such admirable effect.

But it was in the private apartments of the king that I was peculiarly
impressed with the supreme genius of Schwanthaler. These chambers, eight
in number, are painted in encaustic, with subjects from the Greek
poets, of which Schwanthaler suppli