cuts of the relentless scourge of Heine than which no instrument of
chastisement was ever more unsparing, and which in his case was put
to its most merciless use; but he loved art and lavished his revenues
upon pictures, statues, and churches, which the world admires,
imparting a benefit, though his subjects groaned. His successor,
whom I saw, was a man morbid and without force, who early came to a
sorrowful end. His redeeming quality was a fine aesthetic taste,
which he had no doubt through heredity, together with a sad burden of
disease. The world remembers kindly that he was a prodigal patron of
art.

I went to Heidelberg in February, 1870, bent upon a quiet year of
study in Germany and France. Fate had a different programme for me. My
plans were badly interfered with but to see Europe in such a turmoil
was an experience well worth having. Heidelberg that spring was very
peaceful. The ice in the Neckar on which skaters were disporting on
my arrival passed out in due course of time to the Rhine, the foliage
broke forth in glory on the noble hills and the nightingales came back
to sing in the ivy about the storied ruins. There was no suggestion in
the air of cannon thunder. At Berlin, however, as I have described, I
found things wearing a warlike air. I was eager to perfect my German
and sought chances to talk with all whom I met, and often had pleasant
converse with the young soldiers who when off duty numerously flocked
to the gardens and street corners. I recall in particular three young
soldiers whose subsequent fate I should like to know. The first was
a handsome young grenadier who had talked with me affably as we stood
together screened by the bush in the garden of the New Palace at
Potsdam watching the family of the Crown Prince, that beautiful
forenoon in May.... When I told him I had myself _mitgemacht_ the
Civil War in America he at once accorded me respect as a veteran.