owever insignificant, had at least the charm of
being new, and which have answered the purpose of stimulating me to
fresh absurdities.

A few months ago I was standing on the deck of a steamer bound from
London to Hamburg. It was midnight, and we were approaching the mouth of
the Elbe. Right ahead was a light of great brilliancy and power; this,
the captain informed me, shone from Heligoland, and was seen so clearly
because the island was about a hundred and fifty feet above the level of
the sea,--a great boon to navigators, the neighboring coasts being very
low. But my informant had been in the habit of regarding Heligoland as a
lighthouse and nothing more; he could tell me nothing about its
constitution, its manners, or its customs, and I determined to visit it
forthwith.

By the late wars upon the Continent, the political geography of the Elbe
has been completely changed. Between the mouth of the river and Hamburg,
the right bank formerly belonged to Holstein, and the left to Hanover.
Now both are Prussian. Hamburg itself is under the wing of the Prussian
eagle, and may soon be under its claw. The feeling in that city is
anti-Prussian; but the citizens were wise enough to side with their
powerful neighbor, and to contribute troops. This has certainly saved
them from the fete of Frankfort, but it is not probable that Hamburg
will be allowed to remain a thoroughly independent state. Prussia will
probably abolish her diplomatic, and perhaps her consular service, and
permit her to retain certain important rights and privileges. It is, at
the present moment, an anxious crisis for the great merchants. In
Hamburg, fortunes are made with a rapidity, and to an extent, unequalled
in any Continental town; this is owing to the freedom of the port; but,
were the Prussian custom-house system to be introduced, Stettin and
Koenigsberg would spring into dangerous rivalry, and her commercial
interests would decline.

Hamburg is the only city in Europe which bears much resemblance to New
York. It has no antiquities, for the old town was entirely burnt down
about twenty years ago. It has no treasure-house of art, it has not many
"historical associations." It is a city of business, and four thousand
persons meet together every day in its Exchange. Its river is crowded
with shipping; American cars rattle along its streets; and ferry-boats
built on the American principle steam to and fro across the Alster-Dam.
Its hospitals, sailors' ho