AN OLD MAN’S IDYL. 
GERMANY AND THE GERMANS. 
At Heidelberg. 
Nature and man have been at work here. 
Bot h did wliat they could, and gave us Heid¬ 
elberg. Nature thrust forth her sublimity 
in lofty mountains, and spread out her love¬ 
liness between them in most, beautiful val¬ 
leys. Man has woven centuries of thought 
and longing over these mountain sides and 
through these valleys, until the traveler of 
to-day is awed into silence as he beholds the 
power of God and the ruined traces of man. 
You cannot mention a force of nature that 
has not been lavishly expended here. Away 
below us, looking like a ribbon of silver, the 
river Necker flows from a narrow valley 
through a rich plain, till it joins the Rhine 
at Mannheim. At the entrance to this nar¬ 
row valley, mountains covered with dark 
forests rise grandly from the water’s edge, 
and you are in the midst of the wild scenery 
of the Bergst,rosso. At the right hand the 
majestic ruins of Heidelberg Castle hang in 
mid-air. Over these is spread the peculiarly 
blue sky of Germany. The sun, dyeing the 
ivy a deeper tint, sketching each tree and 
shrub with its pencils of light, chasing shad¬ 
ows around tin* base of trees and under 
arches, which, even in ruin, seem to speak of 
eternal strength; the echoes of the peasant- 
hov’s song hurtling down the mountain; the 
waving fields of grain bowitlg to the whis¬ 
perings of the wind; the long, narrow city 
at your feet, sending up a hum of life to meet 
the hush of death; the Castle itself, backed 
by the gigantic Konigstuhl, are all elements 
of a picture which acknowledges no superior 
in the Fatherland. 
Nature tones this picture down at night. 
She sots it In silver then. The eye alone can 
catch all these beauties. Language is too 
harsh a thing, and would rudely break most 
of them. Our conversation, therefore, shall 
be about the Castle, while our feelings are 
possessed by the beauties that are filling the 
pathway. 
lIoiili'lhcrE fustic. 
This is your Ideal castle made actual. 
You cannot feel one fancy of disappointment 
here. Then; is just enough decay and just 
enough preservation. The ivy clambers just 
as you want it to. The tower has fallen as 
you would imagine it to have done, The 
images of knights, cut in stone, look down 
upon you with just enough of antiquity. 
I nderground pas ages are found right, whore 
you thought them to be. Conjure up some¬ 
thing you would like to have in or about an 
old ruin, — then come to Heidelberg and be¬ 
hold it. 
As we go together up this steep ascent at 
the further end of the. town, we see that the 
first straight, portion has no beauty; lmt this 
passed, the reward is ample. There are now 
two ways by which we can continue our ap¬ 
proach to the Castle,—one along a smooth 
path, arched by venerable trees, and gently 
reaching above the tops of those which grow 
on the hill-side, till the level space behind the 
Castle and before the great gateway is 
reached ; the other by steps leading into the 
very heart of the fort ress, through a large 
subterranean ball conducting us into a small 
court, and thence to the level of the court¬ 
yard. Crossing this, we reach an archway 
which brings us to the grartd north terrace, 
and here we obtain a point of observation 
unsurpassed in all Europe. 
Before we leave this place, we recall one 
or two historical facts. The castle was 
founded by Elector Rodolph, in the Four¬ 
teenth century. Combining the double char¬ 
acter of palace and fortress, it was, fora long 
time, the residence of tins Electors Palatin¬ 
ate. Its style represents the separate varie¬ 
ties of the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth 
centuries. The building is solid and square, 
with towers at either end,—one low and 
round, the other higher and octagonal. In 
1698 the French captured and partially 
burned the edifice; in 17(54 lightning left it 
roofless, as it is to-day. 
Bearing these data in mind, we stroll on¬ 
ward to a grove of magnificent, forest trees, 
which are growing cm the old ramparts of 
the Castle. On this side is the castle ditch, 
now tilled with trees whose tops are on a 
level with us. On that side the bastion wall 
extends down perpendicularly for a hundred 
feet, and there re sts on the hill at whose base 
lies Heidelberg. 
These facts do not test the imagination. 
Mountains in Europe are in the habit of 
having castles on their sides, and rivers and 
towns at their base. But we who stand here; 
know that imagination is powerless to create 
a scene like this. She couldn’t, color the 
sky, or throw up and round off the hills, or 
^ fill in the trees, or spread out, the grass, or 
curve the river, as we see them to-day in 
, their beauty. The picture is a masterpiece 
[, of nature. Language! cannot exagerate it; 
it is a place to feel in rather than to de¬ 
scribe. 
/ Within a few feet of where we stand rise 
f the walls of 
SrL 
Tli« Great Tower. 
It contained the famous dining lmll of 
Frederick the Fifth. On a tablet of stone 
we read this inscription:— “Lewis, Count 
Palatine of the Rhine, Elector and Duke of 
Bavaria, erected this tower and finished it, in 
1583. Frederick Fifth, Count Palatine of 
the Rhine, Elector Vicar of the Holy Roman 
Empire, and Duke of Bavaria, pulled down 
the upper part of this tower, rebuilt and 
vaulted it, and added thirty-three feel to the 
height of the banqueting hall, after having 
removed the column which supported the 
roof without any damage or derangement 
whatever. Finished in the year 1019.” 
This tower has wrapped itself in ivy now, 
and is buried with memories of tin* past. It 
looks so aged, and yet so human, that you in¬ 
stinctively wail, for a voice from its green 
crevices. You want its thousand stories of 
courtly splendor by day and of joyous rev¬ 
elry by night. 1 doubt not it could send 
forth burdens of sorrow as well, and could 
speak to us of bitter passions grown mighty 
through centuries of lawless gratification. 
All our wishing will not break the silence, of 
this decaying pile. The secrets of the dead 
fall silently into oblivion as ever and anon 
some crumbling stone finds a burial-place in 
the deep, dark ditch below. And yet, if we, 
wait a moment longer there shall come from 
this same dying tower a speech whose lan¬ 
guage lias gone out into all the earth. One 
word incarnates the thought., and that, word 
is Freedom. The belts and bars of Supersti¬ 
tion have been drawn hack, and Tyranny 
hurled down these mountain sides, by the 
impulse of Lliat divinity which taught the 
brotherhood of Man. Scattered thus all over 
the Continent these towers teach by contrast 
the fact of Progress. 
Between the tower of which we have been 
speaking and the chapel there is a plain but. 
noble range of apartments called the English 
Buildings. These were erected in 1(512, by 
Frederick the Fifth, for the especial use of 
his wife, the Princess ELIZABETH of Eng¬ 
land, daughter of James the First. Various 
portions of the Castle allude, by their history 
or inscriptions, to this Princess. Upon the 
arch of what must have been a magnificent, 
gateway is the following phrase:— “Fred¬ 
erick Fittli to his dearest wife Elizabeth, 
in the year 1651." 
The Chapel of St. Udalrich, which we en¬ 
ter after leaving this part of the ruins, exhi¬ 
bits the latest reparation, and was used for 
service in the year 1808. it constitutes a 
part of Frederick the Fourth’s palace, and 
was in no way out of harmony with 1 lit! en¬ 
tire building; now, however, one sees in it, 
nothing but bare walls and a naked altar. 
* From the chapel we pass to the building 
containing the Great Tun of Heidelberg. 
This was said to bold 283,200 bot tles of wine. 
Our idea of its size must refer to the age in 
which it was built; for London has single 
vats where a dozen Heidelberg Tuns might 
dance. 
Let us pay tribute here to the memory of 
a great man, whose statue stands near this 
immense cask, where, 1 doubt not, he him¬ 
self used often to stand wrapped in muddled 
contemplation. The little imago represents 
the Court Fool PoKKKS, who never went, to 
bed sober, which is not. to be wondered at, 
seeing that lie had previously placed from 
sixteen to eighteen bottle^of Rhine wine be¬ 
neath ins belt. This was the man’s daily 
allowance; of course ho could be equal to 
State occasions. In adjacent cellars we 
notice some thirteen smaller casks that were 
frequently filled, and then contained 60,000 
gallons each. The hearts of men must have 
been made glad in those days, if wine could 
do as the Scripture says it does. 
We will now enter a small room over the 
great gateway, and see a quaint collection of 
pictures, consisting, almost, entirely, of por¬ 
traits of the Princes and Princesses Palatin¬ 
ate, to whom the Castle lias, at various pe¬ 
riods, belonged. If we now wish to find 
vaulted dungeons and subterranean passages, 
we shall discover more than we can follow 
or even enter. Those which are the most 
gloomy and fearful,—where every stop leads 
us into deep dark, mystery,—lie just, hcnenl.il 
that stupendous ruin of the circular tower 
fronting the Geissbcrg. After groping along 
these silent pathways until our sympathy is 
made somewhat, real for those who were once 
dragged along them to die in the cold, clammy 
dungeons at tlieir end, let us come out into 
daylight, and sit down before the most beau¬ 
tiful feature of the Castle’s ruins. 
The (tlreulnr Tower. 
This is the place, of all others around us, 
to receive an impression that we can take 
home, We can set this as a pivot within our 
memory, about which the whole castle shall 
revolve. 
By some silently mighty force of nature the 
upper half of the tower lias been cast upon 
the ground; the solid mass of its enormous 
walls still retain their circular form, while 
the lower half yawns beside it. Here we 
have recompense for three thousand miles of' 
restless ocean and dashing seas. Longings 
for home must give way, for a while, t.o con¬ 
templation of this gem of the castle. 
Too simple, as well as too grand, to admit 
of further description, this Round Tower 
should lie seen last and longest. The hours 
glide on with noiseless foot, and as the day 
falls into night behind the hills, that, solid 
mass upon the ground seems to rise slowly 
upward, to take its old position. We sec ft, I 
for a moment, ns it, was the Castle’s sentinel 
through the centuries; and we leave it as it 
is the Ruin’s most attractive scene. u. 
Heidelberg, Germany. 
-♦♦♦ - 
SLEIGHING IN RUSSIA. 
When the roads are rough, the continual 
jolting of the sleigh is very fatiguing to a 
traveler, and frequently, during the first, two 
or three days of Ids journey, throws him in¬ 
to what is very properly designated the road- 
fever. His pulse is quick, his blood warm, 
his head aches, Ids whole frame becomes sore 
and stiff, and hist mind is far from being se¬ 
rene and amiable. In the first part of my 
land journey, 1 bad the satisfaction of ascer¬ 
taining by practical experience the exact, 
character of the road-fever. My brain seemed 
ready to burst, ami appeared to my excited 
imagination about as large as a barrel; every 
fresh jolt and thump of the vehicle gave me 
a sensation as if somebody were driving a 
tenpenny nail into my skull; ns for good 
nature under such circumstances, that was 
out of the question, and 1 am free to confess 
that my temper was not unlike Unit of a bear 
with a sore bead. Happily, however, I kept 
it, pretty well to myself, and as my companion 
was affected about as I was, we managed not 
to disagree. 
Where tin; roads are good, or if the speed 
is not great, one can sleep very well in a 
Russian sleigh ; I succeeded in extracting a 
great deal of slumber from my vehicle, and 
sometimes did not wake for many hours. 
Sometimes the roads are in such wretched 
condition that one is tossed in his vehicle to 
the height, of discomfort, and can lie very 
well likened to n lump of butter in a revolv¬ 
ing churn. In such eases sleep is almost, il 
not wholly, impossible, and the traveler, pro¬ 
ceeding at courier speed, must take advnn | 
tagO of the few moments’ halt at the stations 
while the horses are being changed. As he 
lias hut ten or fifteen minutes for the change, 
he makes good use of bis time, and sleeps 
very soundly until bis team is ready.— TUos. 
W. Knox, in Harper's Magazine. 
-- -»»»- 
Shaving in China. — One who has been 
shaved in China says that the barber first 
stropped the razor on his leg, and then did 
the shaving without any lather. He then 
took a long needle-shaped spoon and brought 
up from numerous little crevices in liis ears 
hits of wax and dirt ; lie then suddenly 
twisted bis subject’s neck to one side in such 
a manner that, it cracked as if the vertebra: 
had been dislocated, and continued to jerk 
and twist, it until il was limber as an old 
woman’s dish rag. 
( 
By the waters or Eire wo sat toaother, j 
Hand In IiuihI in the soUlon days - * 
Of the beautiful summer weather. / 
When aklus wore purple and breath was praise, v 
When tho heart kept tune to the carol of birds, I 
And tho birds kept tunc to tho songs which rnn 4 
Through shimmer of tlower* on grassy swards, 
And trees with voices ACollun. 
Ry tlio rivnr* of Life wo walked together, 
I and my darling, unafraid : 
And lighter than any linnet's feather 
The burdens of Being on us weighed. 
And Love's sweet tnlraofea o'er us throw 
Mantles of joy outlasting time. 
And up from the rosy morrows grew 
A sound that seemed like a marriage chlnie. 
In tho gardens of I.lfe we strayed together. 
And the luscious apples were ripe and red, 
Amt tho languid lilue and honeyed heather 
Swooned with tho fragrance which they shed: 
And under the trees the angels walked, 
And up In tin* ufr a souse of wings 
Awed ua tenderly while we talked 
Softly in sacred ooaummings. 
In the meadow* of uie we strayed together. 
Watching tho waving harvests grow. 
And under the benlsun nf tho father 
Our hearts, like lambs, skipped to and fro, 
And the cowslips, hearing our low replies, 
Itroidered fairer the emerald banks. 
And glad tours shone In the daisies’ eves, 
And tho timid vlolot glistened thunks. 
Who was with ns. and what, was round us, 
Neither myself nor my darling guessed; 
Only wo knew that something crowned us 
Out from the heavens with crowns of rest; 
Only wo know that something bright 
Lingered lovingly whore we stood, 
Clothed with tho Incandescent light 
Of something higher than humunhood. 
Oh, the riches Love doth Inherit! 
Ah, the alchemy which doth change 
Dross of body and dregs of spirit 
Into sanctities rare and strange! 
My llpsh Is feeble and dry and old, 
My darling’s beautiful hair is gray; 
But our elixir and proalous gold 
Euugh at the footsteps of decay. 
Harms of tho world have eomo unto us. 
Clips of sorrow we yet shall drain; 
But we have a secret which doth show us 
Wonderful rainbows in the rain. 
And we hear the tread of the years move by, 
And the »un Is setting behind tho hills; 
But my darling does not fear to die, 
And I am happy in wluit linn wills. 
So we sit by oar household lire* together, 
Dreaming the dreams of long ago; 
Then It was balmy sunny weather, 
And now tho valleys are laid In snow. 
Icicles hang from the slippery caves, 
Tho wind blows cold, 'tls growing late; 
Well, well: wo Imvo garnered all our sheaves, 
I and my darling, and we wait. 
f Atlantic Monthly. 
moxitB for liunilists. 
PANIMI: 
A TRI E STOIIV OF REAL LIFE, 
BY MARY A. K. WAGER. 
“Do you find anything in books?” 
“ No. The actual experiences of the peo¬ 
ple 1 daily meet, outrival the intensest pic¬ 
tures I find in books; and for a * stage’ there’s 
none quite equal to a New York boarding¬ 
house. Every one is a hero. There’s my 
landlady: she was once a belle- rich, hand¬ 
some, accomplished, and used to luxury. 
Even now, through all the gloom of failure, 
loss of friends and semi-poverty * there are 
times when she flashes out in absolute splen¬ 
dor, and astonishes all eyes with the grace 
of her manners and charms of speech." 
The opening question was put by Sybil 
Dunn, —:t golden-haired, Romanesque- 
faced young woman, who existed in a board 
ing-house, and earned her bread and butter 
with the aid of her pen. Save this, we had 
nothing in common, except a malicious lik¬ 
ing for making hash of lugubrious people, 
and telling each oilier odd experiences. 
Among my fellow-boarders were two 
Southern women — mother and daughter — 
whose wealth had been swept, away by the 
war, and who had come to New York to 
hide themselves since poverty necessitated 
toil. They were cultivated, gracious women 
who had inherited the polish of society, and 
were social. One evening our talk turned 
on music, and the mother, Mrs. Mack, made 
some remark about one Fanimi, that, so 
aroused my curiosity i begged her to tell me 
all she knew of him. 
“ There were rumors," she said, “ of his 
having belonged to a noble Italian family. 
He never said much about Italy, only that 
lie bad the curse of his country upon him. 
During the few years he remained in Savan¬ 
nah lie was the idol of the city. He pos¬ 
sessed a personal magnetism so strong that 
men loved him as women love. He had a 
home wherever he went, and it was not un¬ 
usual for him to receive large stuns of money 
from anonymous sources. Perhaps within 
an hour lie would give it, a way, if some poor 
person crossed his path, in physique lie 
excelled one’s finest, fancy of a perfect man. 
He was very tall, but, so harmoniously pro¬ 
portioned that his heighl was in perfect keep¬ 
ing with tiie man. His Hair, which was 
black and waving, lie wore long. Iiis eyes 
were large and black — soft and gentle in 
repose, but like balls of fire when aroused, 
in truth, ins entire person seemed the perfect 
incarnation of a god. A simple country 
woman upon seeing him said wonderingly, 
‘ He looks like Christ.' That was the highest 
praise slit! could give, and seemed to her the 
only fitting likeness. An artist painted bis 
portrait, and although far from being a per- 
