it was with a kind of listless indifference that we stepped
out upon the balcony before the window. And, behold! down below, an old,
paved square, walled in by delightfully dingy old houses; a stone
fountain; a string of waiting landaus (for Landau itself is near by),
with scarlet linings to their tops--giving a bit of color to the
picture; a party of German students crossing the square, wearing the
caps of different colors to betoken different societies or clubs, and
almost every one with a scarred cheek or suggestive patch upon his nose;
and, lastly, on the right hand, and so precipitous as almost to overhang
the square, a hill crowned with the castle, grand, though in ruins,
which nature vainly tries to conceal. There are ruins, and ruins.
Except the Alhambra, in Spain, none in the world equal these.

What this castle must have been in the days of its glory, when it was
the residence of a court, we could only faintly imagine. It is of red
sandstone, and was a succession of palaces, built to enclose a square,
or great court-yard, each of entirely different architecture and design,
the _facade_ of one being covered with statues, another having pointed
gables, &c.; all having been erected at periods fifty or a hundred years
remote from each other. At each corner were watch-towers to apprise of
coming foes. You may still ascend the winding stairs of one, though the
steps have been hollowed into bowls by dripping rain and mounting feet.
Between these towers, upon one side, and on the verge of the hill, still
remains the grand stone terrace,--where a hundred couples might
promenade in solitude on moonlight evenings,--with summer-houses at each
end; and beautiful gardens are still connected with the ruins. For all
these palaces are in ruins. A few habitable rooms only remain among them
all. Several sieges, and partial demolition at times, the castle
suffered, and at last, a hundred years ago, lightning completed the
work, since which time no efforts at restoration have been made.

The whole is overgrown with ivy, and embowered in shrubbery. Great trees
spread their branches in the midst of the walls that still remain
standing, and crumbling earth and drifting dust have filled many parts,
even up to the broken window ledges of the second story. Across the
broad stone steps leading to one of these palaces, tangled vines
disputed right of way, and a neglected cherry-tree had scattered with
wanton hand its over-ripe fruitage. T