ndoned, because it was
found easier to quarry them from the living rock. The principal towers
were more than a hundred feet high, and their angles and ornaments
seemed to be as sharp and solid as ever. This was much the noblest
French ruin we had seen, and it may be questioned if there are many
finer, out of Italy, in Europe.

The palace of Compiegne, after that of Versailles, hardly rewarded us
for the trouble of examining it. Still it is large and in perfect
repair: but the apartments are common-place, though there are a few that
are good. A prince, however, is as well lodged, even here, as is usual
in the north of Europe. The present king is fond of resorting to this
house, on account of the game of the neighbouring forest. We saw several
roebucks bounding among the trees, in our drive to Pierre-fond.[13]

[Footnote 13: Pierre-fond, or Pierre-font]

I have dwelt on the palaces and the court so much, because one cannot
get a correct idea of what France was, and perhaps I ought to say, of
what France, through the reaction, _will_ be, if this point were
overlooked. The monarch was all in all in the nation--the centre of
light, wealth, and honour; letters, the arts, and the sciences revolved
around him, as the planets revolve around the sun; and if there ever was
a civilized people whose example it would be fair to quote for or
against the effects of monarchy, I think it would be the people of
France. I was surprised at my own ignorance on the subject of the
magnificence of these kings, of which, indeed, it is not easy for an
untravelled American to form any just notion; and it has struck me you
might be glad to hear a little on these points.

After all I have said, I find I have entirely omitted the Orangery at
Versailles. But then I have said little or nothing of the canals, the
_jets d'eau_, of the great and little parks, which, united, are fifty
miles in circumference, and of a hundred other things. Still, as this
orangery is on a truly royal scale, it deserves a word of notice before
I close my letter. The trees are housed in winter in long vaulted
galleries, beneath the great terrace; and there is a sort of sub-court
in front of them, where they are put into the sun during the pleasant
season. This place is really an orange grove; and, although every tree
is in a box, and is nursed like a child, many of them are as large as it
is usual to find in the orange groves of low latitudes. Several are very
old, two or