It Was Neither Moonlight Nor
Daylight, But A Kind Of Spectral Aurora, That Made Every Thing Seem
Unearthly.
As we entered the garden, we found flower beds laid out in circles,
squares, lozenges, and every conceivable form, with diminutive jets of
gas so distributed as to imitate flowers of the softest tints, and the
most perfect shape.
This, too, seemed unearthly, weird. We seemed, in
an instant, transported into some Thalaba's cave, infinitely beyond
the common sights and sounds of every-day life. In the centre of these
grounds there is a circle of pillars, on the top of each of which is a
pot of flowers, with gas jets, and between them an arch of gas jets.
This circle is very large. In the midst of it is another circle,
forming a pavilion for musicians, also brilliantly illuminated, and
containing a large cotillion band of the most finished performers.
Around this you find thousands of gentlemen and ladies strolling
singly, in pairs, or in groups. There could not be less than three
thousand persons present. While the musicians repose, they loiter,
sauntering round, or recline on seats.
But now a lively waltz strikes the ear. In an instant twenty or thirty
couples are whirling along, floating, like thistles in the wind,
around the central pavilion. Their feet scarce touch the smooth-trodden
earth. Round and round, in a vortex of life, beauty, and brilliancy they
go, a whirlwind of delight. Eyes sparkling, cheeks flushing, and gauzy
draperies floating by; while the crowds outside gather in a ring, and
watch the giddy revel.
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