it,
the perfection of confusion is obtained. In all _good_ society, both men
and women speak in subdued voices, and there is no need to allude to
them; but when one descends a little below the _elite_, strength of
lungs is rather a German failing.[31]

We went to the ruins while the fogs were still floating around the
hill-tops. I was less pleased with this visit than with that of last
year, for the surprise was gone, and there was leisure to be critical.
On the whole, these ruins are vast rather than fine, though the parts of
the edifice that were built in the Elizabethan taste have the charm of
quaintness. There is also one picturesque tower; but the finest thing
certainly is the view from the garden-terrace above. An American, who
remembers the genial soil and climate of his country, must mourn over
the want of taste that has left, and still leaves, a great nation
(numerically great, at least) ignorant of the enjoyment of those
delicious retreats! As Nelson once said, "want of frigates" would be
found written on his heart were he to die, I think "want of gardens"
would be found written on mine. Our cicerone, on this occasion, was a
man who had served in America, during the last war, as one of the corps
of De Watteville. He was born in Baden, and says that a large portion of
the corps were Germans. He was in most of the battles of the Niagara,
and shook his head gravely when I hinted at the attack on Fort Erie.
According to his account, the corps suffered exceedingly in the campaign
of 1814, losing the greater portion of its men. I asked him how he came
to fight us, who had never done him any harm; and he answered that
Napoleon had made all Europe soldiers or robbers, and that he had not
stopped to examine the question of right.

[Footnote 31: Until the revolution of 1830, the writer never met but one
noisy woman in Paris. Since that period, however, one hears a little
more of the _tintamarre_ of the _comptoir_.]

We drove up the valley of the Neckar, after a late breakfast, by an
excellent road, and through a beautiful country, for the first post or
two. We then diverged from the stream, ascended into a higher portion of
undulating country, that gradually became less and less interesting,
until, in the end, we all pronounced it the tamest and least inviting
region we had yet seen in Europe. I do not say that the country was
particularly sterile, but it was common-place, and offered fewer objects
of interest than a