The side overlooking the Melna is less debased. The uninviting ravine has been responsible for this, I expect, as the plaster artists no doubt looked twice before embarking upon their course of "improvement." Decorative detail has been replaced by ivy, and exceptionally huge beeches, which overhang the river and sway their dark heads under the high lancet windows. I need not describe the palace. It is a diminutive Versailles, with twenty-five windows in the façade instead of eighty-nine, but none the less an imitation good enough to make a majestic copy of majesty. The French park, albeit under a Hanoverian sky, made a direct appeal to one's heart. Obviously the owners had lavished every care upon it. German orderliness had done wonders. Everything was straight and smooth. A faultless green lawn led to the Persephone fountain, a good example of Ernout, himself a good pupil of Coysevox. You have only to know that this garden was planned by La Quintinie, who sent his best workmen to carry it out, to understand the secret of its spacious nobility. If the Grand Duke George William, a pensioner of the King of France, was a great admirer of Louis XIV., his grandson Frederick was one of the finest products of the age of enlightened despotism. He entertained Voltaire on a visit, and met Rousseau at Grimm's house. He was responsible for the English garden, surrounding the French park laid out by his grandfather, which slopes in picturesque disorder down to the Melna. The clear, rapid torrent is crossed by a wooden bridge, which still keeps its name of "Pond de la Meilleraie," and is wide enough to admit the passage of the cavalcades which start from the castle to hunt in the Herrenwald, that magnificent forest whose leafy roof, as seen from the terraces, stretches away to the horizon. 2. MY QUARTERS Two large panelled chambers on the first floor, in the northern wing of the castle, opposite the great court. The room in which I usually worked looked out on the terrace. Through the open window I could see the dark sea of foliage in a tawny sunlight. An overwhelming silence reigned. The other, less melancholy, had two windows looking out on the ravine where the Melna plunged and roared, and beyond that the Königsplatz, the barracks of the 182nd Regiment and the Cathedral, a garish eyesore. A white trail of smoke floated on two shining bars--the Hanover express which had brought me. I blessed the decision which had deposited me in this part of the building. It possessed an enormous open grate, with curious ironwork, and everything dated from the time when German taste was not yet hopelessly debased.