Not all the gold by Commerce won,
Since Time its circuit first begun,
Could re-erect its giant girth,
Or raise such fabric from the earth.

Unless, for thrice a hundred years,
The influence of the circling spheres,
The rain, the dew. the shade, the shine,
Combined to aid the great design.

Crœsus! be modest with your gold,
Little it brings, when all is told:
Monarchs! be humble in your towers,
You're not so regal as the bowers!

A  FLIGHT FROM WAR.

RUNNING from the heat of an Italian
summer, we had established ourselves at
the beginning of July in the year that
promises to be so long memorable in Europe—
the year 1870—in the pleasant "Anlagen"
of Heidelberg. Nothing could be more
deliriously peaceful and quiet than the
scene around us. I know no place in
Europe which combines so many of the
advantages of a large town with so few of
the annoyances mostly inseparable from
such gatherings of humanity as the old
university city of the Palatinate. Among
the former may be reckoned a library of
two hundred and fifty thousand volumes in
all languages, freely at the strangers'
disposition, without the ceremony of any
subscription. The very large staff of
professors and their families form an extremely
agreeable and valuable society. There is
plenty of excellent music to be enjoyed,
mainly on the same terms as the
advantages of the library. The wine is good and
cheap; the beer even better and still cheaper.
There is a long High-street, composed of
shops of every kind, and banks and places
of business of various sorts, to be sure.
But, however Heidelberg may behave in
its business hours, it disports itself
altogether as if it were in the country in that
lovely and delicious country which closely
encircles it. And what a country that
Neckar valley is! You have but to step
aside from the flags of the street, and you
are on the hillside, and amid the shade
of the magnificent forest. The Anlagen
itself (or themselves, as one ought
properly to say, for the word is in the plural
number), is more like a garden than a
street. The word signifies "additions to,"
or suburbs, and consists of a row of cheerful-
looking houses, the recent result of the
growing importance of Heidelberg as a
place of summer resort, looking out on a
shady garden, immediately beyond which
rises the wooded hill on which the castle
stands.

Nothing could be better than the pleasant
rooms we had secured on the cheerful
and quiet Anlagen. And having unpacked
our trunks, and got things comfortably
into their places about us, we said, according
to the often-cited formula, "If there's
peace to be found in the world, the heart
that is weary might hope for it here!''

Altogether nothing could be better. Till
the end of September, when it is time to
recross the Alps, we will set our tent here,
and be as happy as the day is long.

Alas! for the vanity of human wishes!
Alas! for the instability of summer day-
dreams!

This was the way our dream was all at
once disturbed.

German boots and shoes are good. One
of us had ordered a pair, which was brought
home on the morning of Saturday, the
16th of July. They were so much approved
that a second pair was ordered. Crispin,
pocketing the price of the first order, and
promising prompt execution of the second,
bows himself out of the room; but in less
than five minutes, "ecce iterum Crispinus!"
and with such a face!

"Have you not the measure right, my
friend?"

"Measure! Ach, Gott! There is a
telegram in the town. War is declared!"

War declared between Prussia and
France! Heavens and earth! Why, we
are as exactly between the two as a nail
between the hammer and the anvil. And
of all places in the world Heidelberg is not
the town to forget what warfare means.
Thrice before now has this garden of a land
been turned into a wilderness by French
armies. There are the ruins of the castle,
no place of war, only a magnificent
residence destroyed in cold blood. There, in
the High-street, is the Ritter Haus, pointed
out as the only house that escaped destruction
at the hands of the French in 1693.
Twice before had the unhappy town been
sacked by Frenchmen, under Turenne, in
1674, and, under Melac, in 1688. On the
two latter occasions especially the cruelties
and outrages committed were worthy of
fiends rather than of soldiers. And those
days have never been forgotten in the
Palatinate.

On hearing the alarmed shoemaker's
news, I hurried into the town; and in a few
minutes found abundant confirmation of it.
All my Heidelberg friends had before
advised me not to remain there after war
should be declared, if that misfortune were
really to happen. It had seemed too